#Implied Love Making During Perhaps Or Not Menstruation

[beaflower77]

Imparati Suparati : Part 1

 “They stole my winnings,” indignantly she complained the them.

Looking at her as she stood next to the tethered horses, they could see Beatrice was visually upset, which led the elves to complete and utter confusion. “What? What does she say?,” they asked, questioning with their eyes. “What is she talking about? What winnings?”

“Beatrice,” Lindir interjected, “What are you talking about? We were inside but a moment. What winnings are you talking of?” Looking up at Lindir with defeat and disappointment, “A few moments? You were gone three hours. and my winnings. That I won fair and square, inside that tavern. That Ghostly Abbey Tavern over there,” as she flippantly, angrily gestured off toward the dark brown and gray stone tavern across what was loosely deemed a muddy, murky looking street.

“You realize,” she mentioned, “That is more than just a tavern we’re staying at, don’t you?”

No, actually, they hadn’t. They changed locales.

This town, a rather small but neatly arranged town was in close enough proximity for a few days travel, and had many trading advantages for the elves. They had traveled here to get a sense of the present community. Elrond would be dealing with this small, unique town ever so often and it behooved the elves to know exactly whom and what they would be dealing with, an honest, transparent magistrate, or a shady and shred blowhard like the present one Mayor Turnbull. Either way, this town was in the correct pivotal position for Elf and Mortal alike.

They had sent Erestor for diplomacy, and Lindir for note taking and such. Athlidon and another soldier went as well. Why then did Beatrice need to go? “It will get you out in the sunshine a bit,” Lindir promised on a Tuesday’s ride with a simple smile. “Sunshine?,” she questioned by their third morning out. “If I wanted sunshine, I would have gone to Hawaii Lidir. I am dusty, sweat, hot, and I wuold like to clean my hair. With all this humidity I’m already a mess. I can feel as if I am in the deepest jungles of .. oh, who knows?”

Lindir curiously looked at Beatrice balanced on her mare. Her hair was held together in a short clip, he could see was beginning to droop and come undone. Beatrice was correct, the ride was long, and the humidity at this time of year was thick, dense, and horrid. His mind also reeled in confusion. Hawaii? He just decided it was best to stay quiet, as she spoke like this sometimes. Instead Lindir turned back in his saddle and continued their journey onward. As they rode, Lindir concentrated on his own grooming habits. I would like to clean up as well. A bath would have been lovely this morning, however there will be none until we arrive. I hope there is a comfortable chamber in which to bathe later. For separate baths of course.

They had traveled this particular way because it was supposedly more scenic a route. It wasn’t This route proved poorly traveled, extremely narrow, and dense with foliage. The trees, bushes, provided little comfort for privacy of bodily functions or semi intimate contact. The ground itself was not a proper place to set nightly camps, as it afforded no barrier of shelter or defense. Whoever suggested this way, the elves were dismayed with the route, and lack of reasonable propriety, however it was Beatrice who suffered the most, being female and needing, wishing more privacy. Her usual mood went from content, to joyless, to pained each day. After three days the elves noticed, or more so heard Beatrice’s level of discomfort, discontent, and displeasure. She thought there would be, or should be, a welcomed bath at the least at the end of the night, at most the beginning before each day’s ride. The assumption came from the belief she was promised that before hand. She irritably rode her mare, picked at her nails every so often, frowned, and tried hard at not being snippy.  Her horse gave a snort from the dust.

“I could have gotten sunshine at home,” Beatrice complained within earshot of some elves. “Your hair still looks nice,” she grumbled to herself. “Mine is a mess. And I don’t care for riding horses either, except you’re okay,” she confided to her own mare, patting its’ neck and head. Continuing on, “There are bruises up and down the insides of my legs, not to mention ..”  On and on it went.

Lindir took note of her increasing disfavor with his early urging she come along. There was little in way he could do to change it now. He should have left her at home, instead of insisting her accompanying them. And during her monthly business Lindir thought was not the best of his ideas this time round he thought.

Lindir had so wished her mutterings to cease, “What were you thinking in insisting I tag along? A little midnight dirty dancing on the dirt? My fat ass.” Athlidon had the unfortuante ability to hear that comment, he wondered what sort of dancing on dirt Beatrice meant, what it felt like, how dirty your feet must become. but with the dawning of his senses coming to him, of Beatrice in the nude, the image made him shudder and gag. Athlidon shook his head to be rid of the imagery, muffling his voice low, “Dancing in the dirt, my arse,” and he clicked his horse up farther. Erester pretended not to notice, and lagged behind Athlidon, leaving Lindir to deal with her instead.

Ah, yes. Lindir was aware of the dirty dancing issues. That was one of the nuances while traveling, and Beatrice was forwarned ahead of time, knowing all elves could easily deal with self control, physically and emotionally. This lovely subject became a nightly game of teasing among them, all at her expense. Perhaps Lindir as well, ramping up his mortification. They weren’t sure. “Have you found a comfortable spot to dance in yet Beatrice?,” Athlidon questioned. She ignored him for the third time. “Does Lindir also partake in such dances?,” he kept on. To which Lindir made an unweighty comment, “I have no idea to what you are referring to Athlidon,” unrolling his bedroll, looking for a flat enough surface.

“I believe it is termed a sexual union Lindir,” Erestor calmly suggested, and continued with, “I am sure you have heard of it. Perhaps the tow of you should go farther up the road. A ways up the road. How long do you think it will take? Or else, if you must, just do it quietly among us.” A look of horror and mortification crossed both Lindir’s and Beatrice’s face. After more snickers and horselaughs ensued, “This is hardly worthy conversation. Especially coming from particular mouths. Good night. I will take second watch.” Another comment, laughter drifted through the air, however Beatrice had plugged her ears by then, rolling her back toward the elves, tossing stones from under her mat aside.

As the days rolled by, the elves could see, no, hear Beatrice’s tolerance thinning out, her emotions beginning to droop. Even Athlidon taking pity tried consoling her. “Cheer up Beatrice. Do you see those thick crop of trees ahead?,” he pleasantly asked, pointing off into the gray distance. “Right beyond is ...” He never got that far, she finished for him, “No. No. Let me guess. Another crop of trees.” Athlidon, slightly offended, looked off in the distance after that, ignoring her mumbling until later that night when she apologized. Athlidon had warned Lindir against bring Beatrice along. Erestor disagree. Beatrice should be there. She would see this particular town from a different viewpoint than they. What better way to get a fair opinion of everything. “This town does hold humans, does it not?” he had asked. “Would not Beatrice have a certain connection with them? Being able to distinguish true from false speech from her own kind? The elves could benefit from her knowledge, therefore she should come along.” Elrond had agreed, Lindir was thrilled, now not so much.

But now, out on the town’s main street, Beatrice had waited, and waited, and waited for her traveling companions to return from speaking with the town’s mayor. However, it was no wonder after waiting so long, standing alone by their five horses, Beatrice’s stomach gurgled and clenched, causing her to decide to seek out her meal sooner in the accommodations they had chosen for the night, The Ghostly Abbey.

However, “They stole my winnings!,” is what her companions now heard.

She explained how she had waited outside for them while people passing by gave her odd looks. How the meal in the tavern was bad, the bread stale, moldy, the fruit soft, the drink had a blob of something horrible tasting in it. She spit it back in the cup, ordered tea instead, something else floated in that as well.She ate an apple, at least it was still red looking. And she explained while sitting by herself, she had watched a threesome of men laughing at a nearby table playing a familiar game. How she had ventured over to look, peering round their shoulders. This game the men played was a similar one played in Rivendell. She could easily play this game. Beatrice could see the correct pieces to move in order to win. It wasn’t hard. She could easily see that which was not visible to them. Beatrice explained she was confused as being part of the tavern nightly help. All she wanted was to be included in the game as well.

She asked to play. They were surprised. They laughed at her. She felt offended, humiliated and embarrassed. Two of the men folded their arms in amused diffadance, however, they were willing to play along, entertain her. she won three of five turns. They were scrambling in their seats. they were annoyed, embarrassed. They would lose their week’s winnings. They changed the rules midstream, she shifted her mindset, began again, and outwit them yet again. Beatrice easily saw what they couldn’t. So they cheated. She lost her winnings. They wiped their hands, threw their hands, shoulder up. That was the chance she took when playing at a man’s game they claimed surprised. Why she ever wanted to play in the first place, to think she could play this game fathomed them. They lied. They said she should return home, fix supper for her husband. Be a good girl now.

“I am not a girl,” Beatrice scoffed. “I am a woman.” Then finding her outspokenness bewildering, annoying and distasteful, “Then you should be home pleasing your husband.” Bristled by that comment, fuck you she imagined saying, for she was the one to be pleasured and toyed with, not the other way round offering submission to anyone else. “My husband,” she primly replied. “Alright.”

Angered, Beatrice stood, looking at two of the three offending men, “I know you have cheated me. I will return to my husband. And you will not like it when I do come back with him. You are jealous, petty and insignificant worms to me. I won that money fair. Those winnings belong to me. Yes, my husband will know.” Stunned and shaken, they watched Beatrice leave out the door. They breathed hard. “Who is she?,” they questioned the other. They were just travelers themselves, not having seen her before today. “If her husband does come, we will simply say, she cheated, or, she misunderstood the rules,” coaxed the one. “We could say she should not have even been here. Not in this tavern. We thought she was a doxy playing us for our coin,” invented the second. The two agreed between themselves, fashioning more excuses.

“Why not just say, you cheated her? Clearly she know how to play better than you,” the third one strongly suggested. “Close you mouth,” came from the other two, “Or we’ll close it for you.” The third moved off repulsed, going so far as to inquire of the mayor.

Erestor listened, they all did. All were most adamant they bust in there to reclaim Beatrice’s winnings, and honor. Such men they chimed. Is this the town Elrond will have to deal with?! Are these the types of people we will have to barter with? Sell to? No! We demand retribution! How dare they treat Beatrice like this!

“Stop,” Lindir insisted. “We cannot just barge in and demand Beatrice’s coin. As angry as this makes me, there must be a different way, some other way more eloquent, more persuasive.” “My Lord Lindir,” Athlidon protested, “Would you have Beatrice forfeit her winnings if she played fair as she explains? Or would you rather she dance before them to earn her coin back?” “No. No. That is not want I meant. I meant ...”

“Lindir is correct,” Erestor interjected, his hand on Lindir’s arm. “Athlidon, let’s you and I go peruse the environment in the tavern. If it is as Beatrice says, there are other ways to combat offensive forces. Tula. There is always a better way.” As annoyed and upset as Erestor was, he dragged Athlidon, one of Rivendell’s most loyal of soldiers off the The Ghostly Abbey, which is how Erestor and Athlidon ended up playing a very eye opening human version of an old Elven game.

“Ah. I see,” pronounced Erestor, sitting, matching skills with the men. “Moving my game piece to the left causes the other moves to become obsolete. However, when I move this piece forward, I not only cause one piece to fall, but a multitude of other pieces to move in its’ place, thereby winning the second hand. And gaining more pieces to work with, more points, and to win more coin.” Erestor took a moment to observe his move and noted the changing of the men’s sly and devious rules. And their faces, as he rapidly learned to       re-adapt his skills, despite their best efforts to trick him. “However,” he continued, “I I should move to the right, like such, the rules slightly change, for me, but not for you, and when I move here, you have decided, I do not win. when in fact, I should have.” The men looked at each other. Elves, they concluded. Too smart with the out smarting. “Well, yes, that is one way you play the game, you see.” Looking slyly, “Ah, but that is only one version of the rules,” Erestor concluded. “The rules vary depending upon the players, or their skill level, does it not?” and the men could not avoid his trap. “Well, yes ..”

Hmmm, Erestor learned, they played deceptively well, or badly, whichever way you wished to see it. No wonder Beatrice lost. They cheated. Many times over. What to do now?

He then had an idea. “There is another in our company,” Erestor coolly mentioned while relaxing into his chair. “I would be pleased to introduce you to this player. It may be an interesting game. Why not?,” he asked. The two men looked themselves over. “Alright,” one decided for them both, “Tomorrow night. Here. We will challenge your player.”  Countering their decision, “No. Not tomorrow night,” Erestor shot back. “My companion is not here at the moment. In two days time.”  Erestor quickly stood before the men could protest or think of another answer. All was agreed. “Good night,” he concluded, nodded and left.

In the meantime ...

Athlidon leaned against the bar. The third man in the company took a sip of lager. “Your friend is good. He’s a quick learner.” Athlidon ruffled, huffed. “And your friends are...,” Athlidon began. But, “Oh, they are not my friends,” the man stated. “I merely traveled here with them during the same time. They were on the same road as I. We shared a few stories, a few drinks, but friend, No. I am merely here on a business venture, I suppose. These men,” the man continued, “are braggarts, cheats.” He continued his drink, picked at the bew berries left on the counter, bat at something flying. “If this were my town, I’d run it differently. There wouldn’t be men like them here.” Athlidon pressed more, “They cheat?,” he casually mentioned. “Hmmm Mmmm.” The man was not drunk, merely more liberated than most.

“There was a player in here the other day, “ he continued. “Was very good. Knew her stuff.I had hoped she would win. They fooled with her. Disgusting business.” “She?,” pried Athlidon once again. “Yes. A woman. Pretty. Petite. Self assured. Very sweet I thought. Don’t see many like her around. I confronted them, but they didn’t seem to care. I have half a mind to wish she would come back, she was fair.” And he smiled shyly. “But I don’t want her to be fooled like that again, besides, she’s married. So, best to leave alone.” He rubbed his nose. “I did speak with the current magistrate about it. He’s leaving, you know.” “Is he?” The two resumed their drink and small talk along different avenues. Athlidon was curious now even more.

Athlidon mused on this information, continuing with his own drink. He would later share this news with Erestor when they were alone. “Yes,” the man warmly mentioned, giving a quick smile. “I was thinking of applying for his position myself.” Athlidon studied the man, took in his full measure. “You? What would you do with a town this size? You realize you would have to deal with the Elven Lord, Lord Elrond. He trades here ever so often I here.” “Oh? Elrond you say? Yes. I know him. Tall, dark hair? Nice fellow. I’ve met him. Good man.” He suddenly knew his mistake, checked himself when Athlidon gave him a curious look. “Well, Elf really.” He then gave Athlidon a silly smile, asking, changing the subject, “You know him?” What was Athlidon to say to that? “I know his name,” and he drank more.

Deciding to stay at the Leof Doe, a different Inn, for the duration they were in town, as it would afford more privacy for all, Erestor let them in on his and athlidon’s observations. “Yes. They cheated. And I believe they forcefully cheated Beatrice. How much did you say you lost again?,” Erestor asked. Beatrice was embarrassed. Not only did she lose her entire coin for the trip, but she was gambling, for three hours, which was probably worse. “Some pfennig. Twenty maybe.” “Twenty?!,” reiterated Lindir, a little shocked she had that much, and lost it all. “Well, that is a bit to lose, but still, it is morally wrong. You have a plan then?,” he asked, turning to Erestor. Beatrice slunk her head down. Athlidon watched. “I hope you do,” Lindir maintained. “I will not stand for this business. Not only will Elrond have to barter and deal with them, but I will not have Beatrice treated so callously by men so opportunistic and skamelar.” Rarely did Beatrice of anyone else here Lindir swear so poetically in public.

Athlidon directed his attention at that moment toward LIndir, taking a step back, raising his eyes, while repeating to them what the man in The Ghostly Abbey told him in confidence. “The third man is not with them. He wishes to be magistrate of this drab town.” Erestor grumbled at that fact. “Then he has much to clean up here for that to happen. This town is a sewage pit.” “By the way, my Lord,” Athlidon brought up, “You mentioned your player was not here, when we were in the tavern. You lied” Erestor unflappably replied to such a silly question. “Of course not. My mentioning my ‘player’ not being here in that tavern, merely meant, my ‘player’, was there, meaning this Inn, which we are not occupying. It was never a lie.” Athlidon let it go again, he was used to this sort of language games.

However, Erestor did have a plan of sorts. “let us keep this to ourselves for now. Athlidon, you and I will go backto the The Ghostly Abbey tonight. Tonare, you will find a better, faster way to get out of this town, if we so need.” Turning to Beatrice he continued, “Beatrice. How would you like to get your winnings back? Perhaps make more as well? Do what I say, and it is almost a guarantee.” She thought about it. “I would rather whip them instead,” she confessed truthfully, bitterly. A graceful smile came over Erestor. “Hmm.Yes. However, mind games are better. And we will teach you the best ones. Agreed?” After she reluctantly agree, Erestor set his eyes on Lindir. “Lindir, a moment in private.”

Following his friend from the Inn, out of earshot from passer-bys, Erestor bluntly threw this down. “Lindir, this is crass of me, however, Beatrice needs something only you can give her. She is angry, annoyed, cranky, starved for intimacy, and I can see, unfocused. Her mind is elsewhere on who knows what again. If this is to work in our favor, Beatrice will need to play and match wits with them. I need her focused on this game. Which means, you need to take care of your wife and her needs.  A little shocked, and embarrassed at first, Lindir thought how best to reply to the implications Erestor described. “There is no privacy on the road Erestor. Even if there were, Beatrice is mid month. It would be a mess. The bedding,” Lindir complained. Erestor perhaps thought better, “Is she? Mid-month? You think?” No to be offended or deterred, “It is your responsibility Lindir,” Erestor suggested, “I want her focused. Do whatever she wishes. And outfit her in a presentable dress. When she confronts them, I do not want Beatrice wearing leggings, no matter how much more comfortable she is. They will not see her as a worthy opponent otherwise.” Lindir’s mouth opened, closed, and resigned himself. “Of course. Agreed.”

But then Lindir truly wanted to know, “Can she do this? Can Beatrice truly accomplish this? I would not want to see her further humiliated by being outsmarted twice.” Erestor listened, looking at his friend. He did understand Lindir’s misgivings, however he understood something more concerning Beatrice, and he had thought Lindir knew as well. So, Erestor thought a reminder would be good at this juncture. “Does your memory fail you so Lindir? Do I need to remind you Beatrice sees more that most are aware? Does she not see into the hearts of certain entities? Of certain individuals? Mortals? Elves? Do you discount her abilities? Do you not think her worthy of such an ability? Her perception is her primary source of joyousness. And sorrow both. Tell me you are not unaware of such of gift as this?”

Lindir knew this, still he looked away, uncertain of his allowing Beatrice time with those men, and what it would cost her emotionally if she failed. “I am,” he simply replied. A slight, sad sigh escaped from is lips. “Lindir,” Erestor coaxed, “She can do this. She can sometimes see that which others cannot. You know it is true. You must let her go sometimes Lindir. I am certain, of this, she can accomplish. And she should. It would do her good, she will feel better about herself. Sometimes we all give Beatrice too little credit, and treat her as too little, or fragile a thing.” Erestor put his hand softly on Lindir’s arm, squeezing warmly. “Go, tend your wife,” he said, before going back inside to consider the remainder of his plan. “All will be well. You must trust her.”

Lingering a bit outside, Lindir sighed, closing his eyes. He had to consider Beatrice as independent of him. And in tending his wife, he had also to consider his options, as he was not too fond of mid-month fondling, however. Finally settling on how best to approach his task, lovely but messy, he walked in and laid two coins across the bar counter. “A tub. How water please. Bring it to my room as soon as it is ready.” The Inn maid protested, “But Master Elf, dis the middle of the afternoon. Who takes a bath in the middle of the afternoon Sir?” Lindir unflinchingly again pushed the coins toward her. “A tub and hot water please.” His friends overheard him, they did not quail when he asked, “Where has Beatrice got to?” “The privy. Again,” and they motioned with their heads. He went to collect her. She questioned why. Lindir said not in return. They silently walked upstairs together.

When the night fell, and the dusk took over the sky, Erestor quietly knocked on their door. He was delighted to find Beatrice already dressed in a soft pink and wine, richly velvety gown, loosely cinched with a full burgundy square neckline, showing off her smooth neck. The long bell sleeves bothered her and were continuously being rolled up. “Lovely,” Erestor commented, looking Beatrice over several times, front to back. “Loose but lovely. Very feminine as well.” He had no idea where Lindir had acquired the gown, nor did he wish to know, but nodded his assent to Lindir’s fashion sense. “Ready Beatrice? I have brought two adequate game boards. You will have to compare the same game twice and learn multiple rules which will change depending on these men’s whims.” He smiled charmingly at her growing form. She cringed, wondering what he knew. Erestor set the room and boards accordingly. And waited. “Athlidon and Tonare should be here momentarily,” he stated. “You have been adequately fed and are more focused?”  Beatrice needed a moment to understand his meaning. Lindir felt his face flush, drawing in a horrified breath of everyone knowing what they were possibly doing upstairs alone all day.

“Wait a minute,” Beatrice yelped. “I have to play them? Me?” She was dumbfounded. “I thought, I thought this dress, this was just for show,” as she addressed her person. “I thought you could just go in there and demand my money back. That I was just supposed to dress nicely, instead of leggings.” “No,” Erestor gave her. “You will have to play them. If you want your money back, and your honor, you will have to compete for it. And I warn you, they are indeed shady. They are not honest. However I will teach you how to play them to their own disadvantage.” Beatrice sighed, looked at Lindir. “Did you know this?” Stepping closer, “Yes,” Lindir admitted. This business was difficult for Lindir. He did not want Beatrice to be involved in this charade, but he did agree this could be the only way to play a player. “Yes Beatrice. I did not tell you. I am sorry.” What else could he say?

“They intimidate me,” Beatrice whispered her confession to the elves. Athlidon spoke up, “Of course they do. And we will teach you the art of counter intimidation.” She didn’t think it really mattered much at this point, but Beatrice was crestfallen, and it showed. “Cheer up Beatrice,” Athlidon tried. “Do you see those crops of trees over there? Beyond that ...,” “Shut up Elf,” she gave him back. Athlidon smirked in return. “She’ll be fine,” he firmly suggested. Lindir breathed deeply, still not pleased with the whole affair.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from @watermelon1568, @lokisgirl5, @cocoamoonmalfoy and anon. This is so fluffy and maybe a little silly, but in a good way! Enjoy everyone and have a good Christmas Eve! ♥

Words: 2635 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of blood, implied smut

Additional NSFW warning: This Imagine contains implied period sex, just in case this is something you are uncomfortable with.

Loki might be a tiny tad OOC in this one because the requests were just so fluffy but I did my best! Enjoy!

-

Loki sighed. There you were again, running around with a list in hand looking much like the one Santa Clause had been carrying in that Christmas film Thor had forced him to watch. For the past few days, weeks almost, actually, you had been collecting everyone’s Christmas wishes like a squirrel collecting nuts for the winter. Even he knew everyone’s Christmas wishes by now. You had truly asked everybody, even the cleaning women who came to tidy up the entire Avengers facility once a week.

Loki could not quite put his finger on what it was that fascinated him so much about you—all he did know was that he too wanted to get you a Christmas present, if only just to see the surprised look on your face. He almost snorted. It was disappointment he felt, disappointment and envy because he longed to be the one to put a smile on your face on Christmas Day—and he didn’t even celebrate Christmas, not really.

Furthermore, he had not failed to notice how you avoided his presence like you were playing cat and mouse. You had, much to his surprise, asked him for his Christmas wish too the other day, all timid and unable to look him in the eye and Loki had been so taken aback he had not known an answer. The God of Mischief was many things but he was not blind and not stupid—he was perceptive. Villain or not, you were into him—and he was going to get your confession.

Smirking to himself, and determined to put an end to playing tag, he followed you into the empty hallway on your way back to your room, pushed past you and then unceremoniously blocked your way.

“O-Oh… hey, Loki.” You chirped.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I, uh, actually, um… n-no?”

“Well, you did ask me what I wanted for Christmas, did you not?”

“Oh!” Your face lit up. “Oh, yes! Yes, what would you like?”

Loki thought about it for a moment. He needed an answer fast to not look like a moron now.

His lips parted. “I do miss writing with a quill and ink. Could you acquire a set for me? Surely, they are still being used on Midgard.”

Geez! How had you not thought about that? Loki truly was a scholar with all those books in his room, and that was a marvellous idea. “Y-yes, of course!” You responded, nodding eagerly in the process. But when you moved forward, Loki, instead of letting you pass now, put his hand against the wall so you were trapped.

“Hmm… Is there a particular reason you always get so nervous in my presence?” He asked. Your eyes widened. Fuck.

“Y-you… you tried to… you almost took over t-the p-planet, you k-know.” You lied quickly.

“Ah, yes. Of course… that must be it.” He responded with a knowing smirk. Oh, fuck. Did he have to be so god damn gorgeous?

“You never said what it was you want for Christmas, my dear.” He said then, blue eyes locking with yours. Your heart skipped a beat—no, actually, you were wondering whether it was still beating at all. You did have a Christmas wish, of course and you wanted to do backflips all across the hallway that Loki of all people took an interest in what you’d like—or maybe he just wanted to make conversation. Keep calm.

“Oh… it’s silly. Not really possible.” You replied sheepishly, gasping when he hooked a finger under your chin to gently force you to look up at him. He was definitely going to be the death of you.

“Tell me.” He urged you on.

“The only thing I… I’ve always wanted to have a dog. A loyal non-human companion, someone to cuddle with when it’s cold and who will never judge me but love me just the way I am… and they are just so cute! But that’s not possible,” You repeated quickly. “Imagine an innocent little puppy when everything’s on fire and another alien race attacks the planet!”

Loki hummed. Dogs were not common on Asgard. He himself had had a pet snake growing but released it into the wild after Thor and his friends had repeatedly stolen it to play silly and dangerous games. He could see why you kept that wish to yourself. Living among the Avengers, a dog might get in the way during missions—he did not doubt it would be helpful and capable of tearing off their enemies’ faces but your worry for it would distract you from a fight.

Still… perhaps there was a way. A smirk grew on his lips and your flustered reaction to it pleased him, making it grow wider.

-

It was early Christmas morning when Loki returned. It had taken him all of his wit and cunningness to leave the Avengers facilities unattended and without anyone asking suspicious questions but he had succeeded. The wooden box he was carrying—with many holes in them so the little creature could breathe—Loki sneaked across the hallway and past your room to hide his present for you in his own, already imagining your priceless reaction… was he hoping for a hug? Oh, he was. When was the last time anyone had hugged him? Perhaps you would, upon receiving the fluffy little creature in the box.

The dog winced. “Shh! Quiet, you silly little creature, you are going to wake up your mother!”

It was then he heard an ear-piercing scream coming from your room. He nearly dropped the box, turning on his heel to storm into your room like a tornado annihilating everything in its path. Your bed was empty, the sheets ruffled. There was a small beam of light coming from your bathroom—the closer he came, the more he could make out the rustling of fabric.

“I bloody hate being a woman…” You murmured to yourself, making the God of Mischief frown. Alarmed, he stepped closer and entered the bathroom without knocking—he barely remembered to set the box aside to draw his daggers if need be.

You were sat on the toilet, your white Christmas pyjamas with candy canes and gingerbread men on them soiled with blood. Loki’s eyes widened. There was blood on the floor too… and on your fingers.

His fingers were itching to materialise his weapons, yet he could see no enemy who could have attacked you. You gasped when he barged into the room, concealing your nakedness from the waist down with some toilet paper.

“What in the nine happened to you?” The amount of blood was almost concerning for a mortal. Had someone surprised you in your sleep? Who had managed to break into the Avengers facilities in the first place?

“How did you get in here? No wait, you’re awake already? Umm… Merry Christmas?” You swallowed. Talk about embarrassing yourself in front of the God of Mischief.

“We need to get you to a healer… a doctor, that is what you call them here?” You stared at him for a moment.

The last thing he expected was for you to burst out laughing. The whole situation was so hilarious you even forgot to be nervous around him for once.

“Oh, Loki… I’m okay, I’m not dying, I promise. I got surprised by my period, is all.”

“Your… period? Your period… as in your menstruation cycle?”

“Yes. Do women on Asgard not have that?”

“They do but… not like this.” Heavens, he felt stupid. He had thought you were dying, openly shown his concern… and you had laughed.

“Loki…” It was like you had heard his thoughts. “Thank you for checking on me. I was just being frustrated but I promise I’m okay.” You had probably disturbed his sleep but the fact that Loki cared enough to come to your help, admitting that just perhaps… he actually liked you. “W-would you mind?” Loki raised his brows, his lips parting.

“Yes, of course.”

He turned around for you to get dressed again (never before had you been more grateful for the pile of more or less dirty laundry on the floor next to your toilet) and nodded, only realising now that he had indeed just proved that one way or another, he had taken a liking into you. It was then the dog winced again just outside the bathroom door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. In fact, I shall leave you… how did you get out of that box?” Eager and curious, the puppy must have somehow knocked its wooden box over. When Loki looked behind him, he found the lid on the floor, the young dog hurtling towards you.

“Oh my god! Hey there, little guy! Where did you come from?” You giggled when the dog attempted to jump up on you. You picked it up, grinning when it licked your face. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Loki pursed his lips. Oh, great. Now he was getting the hug. He furrowed his brows. Heavens, this was an innocent little puppy. Against all reason, he already loved the little guy with all his heart himself, how could he possibly feel jealous?

“You were not supposed to see it yet. I was going to put the box under the Christmas tree.”

“R-really? You mean… he’s for me? Oh, Loki… but h-how? I mean… I love him. But how can I keep him safe here? Is that really a good idea?”

“Well… he is, in fact, not a normal dog.” Loki remarked.

Your eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“Dogs are rare on Asgard but there are indeed a few traders who raise them. This unprepossessing creature has a life expectancy five times as high as Midgardian dogs—not to mention it is stronger, more intelligent and much like Thor and me, more resistant to pain and injury.”

“You’re a superdog then, aren’t you? Yes, you are, such a good boy. I need a name for him.” You announced. Loki raised his arms. That would be your decision. His pet snake had never had a name. “I’ll think of something.” Smiling, you stepped forward and kissed Loki on the cheek whose lips parted in surprise.

“Thank you so much. I didn’t think you would… why did you?” He said nothing in response. He couldn’t possibly tell you that he wanted a hug and that the only person he wanted it from was you. Your lips on his face had already felt like liquid fire, warming him from the inside out. Heavens, what was wrong with him? You were a mortal. He couldn’t possibly like you this much.

“You should go back to bed.” He said after a while, clearing his throat. “It is still early.” You nodded. He was right. Besides, you and your little puppy needed to get to know each other.

Needless to say, however, you couldn’t fall asleep again after you had gotten changed into new pyjamas and then cuddled with your new pet. Loki had gotten you a dog. Why? He owed you nothing, and quite on the contrary, you highly doubted Loki would even bother to get the rest of the Avengers a Christmas gift.

-

In the meantime, Loki himself returned to his room, shaking his head in the process. He was being ridiculous. The other day in the hallway, he had still managed to remain composed but the more time he spent around you, the softer he became for you.

He had been worried for you upon seeing all that blood and it had scared him. Love and affection weren’t exactly emotions he got to experience a lot and then for a human of all species…

He realised with a start just what it was that was happening to him. He was courting you, wasn’t he? He had not done anything alike in years, the last time for a beautiful Asgardian woman who had turned out to take more interest in Thor than him.

Loki was no expert on dating. He had never had the need for it… not until you. A growl escaped his lips. How dangerous for his already shattered heart would it be to give in to his desire and make you smile again? To feel your lips against his skin once more?

Another growl. He was addicted to you already. Jumping up from the bed, he left the facilities again, this time to head a few miles west. Frigga had always said that love goes through the stomach. He might as well try that strategy out.

-

About two hours later, there was a soft knock on your door. You stirred, eyes fluttering open. Your puppy—you had still not thought of a name for it—had curled up in your arms, still sleeping soundly.

“Yes?”

The door opened to reveal Loki. With a smirk, he produced something from behind his back—a box with the logo of your favourite pancake shop on it. Your jaw dropped.

“Merry Christmas.” He announced.

“Oh my goodness… Loki, you are so sweet.”

The God of Mischief raised an eyebrow. “Sweet is not exactly what I was hoping for.” He replied, albeit smiling.  You sat up carefully to not wake the puppy, accepting the pancakes all the while licking your lips hungrily. Now that was one way to start Christmas Day.

“How about considerate?” You tried again, smiling up at him sweetly. Loki smirked, hands clasped behind his back. He almost appeared a little… awkward.

You longed to ask him why he was doing all this but then again… you could think of only one answer. It couldn’t possibly be, no?

“Care to share? They are really good.”

“It appears so. The entire restaurant smelled like a sugar realm.”

“Is that a thing?”

“No.”

“Oh… pity.” He chuckled.

Twenty minutes in which you silently ate with relish went by, the puppy still sleeping peacefully in your bed, with you unable to stop petting it all the time. Once you had finished the very last bite, you simply dropped the empty takeaway-packaging on the floor.

“Thank you so much, Loki. I couldn’t have imagined better Christmas presents.”

He nodded, watching your every move as you moved in to give him another kiss on the cheek.

This time though, in just this moment, Loki turned his head to face you again, your lips landing on his instead. You gasped, even more so when he deepened the kiss, moving his mouth gently against yours, tongue slipping between your lips to taste you. Oh my god. Loki was kissing you. Loki was kissing you!

It felt like a demon from Muspelheim had set his body on fire, from the inside out. Loki was ablaze. Unable to stop himself, his arms came up to pull you closer into his body until you were straddling him, your fingers digging into his clothes. You both knew where this was going.

There was no doubt you were going to wake up the little dog when you pushed him back on the mattress, overcome with a sudden confidence and hunger that made you feel invincible. Loki did not object. The only reason you hesitated was the fact you remembered just then that you were on your period. Reluctantly, you pulled away.

“Loki… maybe we should do this… another time. My… period, remember?”

“A little bit of blood will not stop me from ravishing you, my dear.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“A-are you sure?”

Loki nodded slowly and intimately, his blue gaze never leaving yours.

Next thing you knew, the both of you lost all of your layers of clothing one by one. Scratch making a list for Christmas presents for your friends to make them happy… you couldn’t quite believe that Loki actually reciprocated your affection for him. This certainly was the most amazing Christmas yet.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[redteabaron]

Sansa and the (yellow brick) road home

The movie The Wizard of Oz follows along the general theme most heroes/heroines do; the journey to the inner self, at times in relation with the outer world. (The book by Baum, and by relation the movie, has racist/xenophobic/nationalist undertones and implications that continue and multiply through the text that I’m just not going to include here since this meta is already too long and I’m also not going to include the political or Baum’s personal symbolism in these things.) 

I’m going to go off on a limb and assume mostly everyone knows the general summary of TWOO and not summarize it, if not, the wiki on the movie itself is pretty comprehensive. Below, instead of a short novel describing all the possible references and parallels found, I’ll just be using summarized points about how Sansa fills in for Dorothy Gale on her road home.

Red shoes - Red in the film, as that’s what I’m focusing on rather than the silver ones in the book since that was all about the free silver movement. Red for women and girls in a lot of fairy tales often represents the path onto adulthood, particularly connected to menstruation, which isn’t an enormous part of Sansa’s arc but it does get quite a few notable mentions (usually from gross people concerned with her ability to produce heirs). Sansa, like Dorothy, only gains her “red shoes” once she leaves home (that is, setting her on a path to metamorphosis and growing up). The “red shoes” symbolize things Sansa possesses that people, envy, admire or desire for their own. Sansa’s red shoes represent womanhood, agency over self, beauty, intelligence, her kindness and compassion. 

Sepia colors to technicolor in the film/Kansas to Oz - This transition from little to no color to places where it becomes a feast for the eyes (from the north to the south) represents Dorothy’s and Sansa’s feelings toward their respective homes and the places of their desires. Sansa yearns for something else, something different and southron because that is the place all the songs and tales are about. The north, as reiterated by numerous characters both northern and southron, is a hard, harsh place that has little beauty. Sansa, like Dorothy, feels unfulfilled and out of place in her home. She doesn’t explicitly state how out of place she feels in the north like Jon and Arya, but there is the implication that at least within her family she is out of place (perhaps with the exception of Bran who wants knighthood, loves songs and stories like his sister and doesn’t stick his nose up in the air at the fact that Sansa prefers the ones with ladies or love). King’s Landing is her land of Oz, a place of magic and possibility like all the songs, it’s a world of technicolor and danger.

Yellow Brick Road - The yellow brick road is just that; a road on which Dorothy needs to follow to meet with the wizard of Oz, and most importantly the journey she must undertake to go home, and Dorothy does want to go home, she misses it even in this enchanting land that seems to be everything she first wanted. Like Dorothy, Sansa wants to go home after briefly being in the place where dreams are supposed to be a reality (all the stories can’t be lies) and this beautiful place has more danger than she’d realized; Sansa’s yellow brick road is a sight more twisted and unclear with far fewer friends and guarantees of safety. Dorothy is told to stay on the Yellow Brick Road to find her way to her ticket home (the Great Oz), otherwise she’ll run into danger. 

Sansa’s metaphorical ‘Yellow Brick Road’ is her role as a ‘pawn’ in the game of thrones; she has to play within the rules others make for her and outliving them, or she will have no other recourse for survival. 

Toto - Toto is Lady; the animal in a fairy tale setting that is something unknown in a child, yet to be understood or tamed. Toto was Dorothy’s playmate, constant companion, and likely her confidante, and undoubtedly although Toto didn’t have a large part to play directly in TWOO, he set off the events to occur the way they did for Dorothy throughout her time in Oz and in Kansas, but at least she had the comfort that he was there with her throughout it all. Toto is symbolic of a natural gut instinct (his hatred of Miss Gulch, where Lady hates the Hound) and the one who uncovers things normally concealed (again, Lady’s dislike of the Hound despite being the gentlest of her siblings). 

Lady, like Toto, sets off a chain of events for Sansa personally, but Sansa doesn’t have the comfort of Lady being there with her. Here, Lady is the unknown part of Sansa (that functions as her gut feeling, portrays her true self yet to be realized) but ultimately she, a part of Sansa, is killed by Ned at the behest of Cersei (also featuring Robert once again turning aside something unjust and gruesome for an easier solution). 

It brings Toto escaping from the Wicked Witch of the West in a harsher light. Dorothy’s tearful happiness that Toto escapes alive even while she’s captured and her life is in danger … yet Sansa is in danger and Lady is dead, only alive briefly in her dreams. Toto represents a part of Dorothy that manages to escape the worst of the punishment, yet a part of Sansa is already dead, spiritually, at this point. With Robb’s death and his last words being Grey Wind, we can assume there is no ‘getting a new direwolf’ or just simply recovering from the death of their direwolf. 

The Twister - Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon uproot Winterfell and the Seven Kingdoms unintentionally. By accepting the position of Hand, Ned paved the way for her journey there. Later the deaths of Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon, Sansa is trapped in King’s Landing/the Vale (“Oz”). Robert is the Twister and once in King’s Landing, Ned is the locked cellar, essentially leaving her out in the open in danger as he doesn’t share his worries with Sansa. He deliberately leaves her as the odd man out while he manages to speak with Arya about the situation and at least makes her aware that there is danger. 

Poppy field - The allure of giving up and wasting away; in TWOO these lovely, deadly flowers cause those who breathe in their sweet scent to lay down and fall asleep until their death. The poppy field represents apathy and surrender during difficult times, and similarly this makes its appearance for Sansa who abides by all the rules of her captors (people who have harmed her, her family, her home, etc) - but she only succumbs to this from a certain perspective. Sansa hasn’t fallen asleep and succumbed to her metaphorical poppy field, she is, in effect, lucid dreaming. Dreaming while aware, even if she must stay in the dream so she can survive. She’s giving everyone around her the illusion that she is trapped in her “dream”, that she is “Sleeping Beauty” while she continues to learn, adapt, and observe.

Dorothy has three companions that remain with her on her journey that all want the great wizard to give them something they feel they lack. While in the book/film, it’s clear they’re still good people and not without their positive traits, everyone focuses on what they lack across the board. In the sections below, I’ll be using commonalities found in the (unwanted) “suitors” of Sansa on her journey where they too focus on their negative traits, or are the inverted intentions of Dorothy’s companions.

Tin Man/Tyrion Lannister/Sandor Clegane - Men of sympathetic circumstance and who want to be wanted as they are, or desire to be loved/objects of desire and are understood among others as not having a heart or not able to.

Both Sandor and Tyrion project their feelings of rejection from society and in particular women, noblewomen, and lust onto Sansa (a child, a prisoner of war and an easy, isolated target). They are the most selfish form of desire for the Tin Man’s want for a heart; where the Tin Man desired a heart for the purpose of loving others and everything (although he finds later he never needed a physical heart because he was good and loving all along) Tyrion and Sandor desire a heart from someone else for themselves.

They’re who are typically the ones we want to root for as the underdogs who get their just rewards as they have been abused in their positions or misfortunes in life, but they ultimately fall short because they are simply awful and have built up these defenses and use them against Sansa despite being positions where they could have proven to be the ‘knights’ she yearns for (barring the enormous age gaps which inherently leaves these matches undesirable anyway). 

While Sandor’s backstory regarding his abuse at the hands of his brother are awful, he himself enacts abuse on others - the murder of Mycah, him relaying regret for not raping Sansa when he had the chance (whether or not he meant it, she was a child and it’s an awful thing to regret not doing), and his participation in the unkiss as well as verbally abusing her and gaslighting Sansa. Yet he wants kindness and some sort of love or affection from her regardless of his treatment of her. She sings the Mother’s Hymn for him during the Battle of Blackwater Bay, in a way, giving him some form of (her) heart although that wasn’t what she’d intended to do (she misremembers the trauma so we can assume she was terrified), it can be inferred that Sandor got something from her that he wanted (subconsciously or not). 

Similarly, we have sympathy for Tyrion because although he is highborn, he still faces constant mockery, obstacles, verbal and physical abuse due to his disability and looks. However, he still wants to be lord of Winterfell and he wants Sansa (who he finds himself attracted to) - girl or woman-child or whatever she is. Tywin could have married her off to a Lannister cousin, so Tyrion does have the choice to pass her up, but he chooses to go forward with the marriage and even prepares to take her against her consent (where he molests her and says he could be the Knight of Flowers in the dark; essentially telling her to lie to herself about how she felt about him and the situation) but stops after he feels guilty. Tyrion could have been sympathetic because he isn’t without his soft spots (see his conversation with Jon Snow, his consideration for Bran, etc) but he again falls short. He wants love and affection - but he has rather exacting standards, the same thing that infuriated him about Sansa not finding him attractive.

Like the Tin Man it isn’t that they have no heart. Unlike the Tin Man, however, for Sandor and Tyrion, it’s simply that most of that heart shown consists of selfishness and self-centeredness. Sandor might immediately cop to it and never attempts to hide it, but he tries to bring every man down to his level by saying how awful everyone is, everywhere. Tyrion meanwhile may be capable of kindness, but he shows that he is easy to offend when it is rebuffed or denied, as though he expects payment for such a thing.

Cowardly Lion/Ser Dontos/Joffrey - Characters who have the titles of courtly images; Joffrey is a prince, then a golden king. Ser Dontos is a named knight. Both have the roles in songs and stories where the expected virtues would include courage, grace, humility, honor, etc but ultimately do not have these things even if they have the appropriate titles. 

In TWOO, the Cowardly Lion presents a falsehood or an oxymoron (after all, how can the king of all beasts be a coward?). Joffrey and Dontos do the same. (How can a king be cruel, how can a knight not have dignity, etc). Sansa’s attachment and adherence to songs/stories isn’t really all that different from any of the ideas the Stark kids have about their favorite stories, but in her journey specifically, we see her unraveling popular propaganda in Westerosi high society; she even makes comparisons in her inner monologues. 

Where the virtues of kings and knights are meant to be shown, we see her expectations fall very short of what the title is meant to indicate about the character of the people who hold them.

In both Joffrey and Dontos, they lack these qualities even if we, Sansa, may briefly hold out hope for the better (where Joffrey immediately kills that by suddenly having Ned executed, where Dontos sells her off to Littlefinger despite trying to play her Florian). In particular, Ser Dontos ultimately fails as the CW because he says he wants Sansa to be safe, to be her Florian, but isn’t truthful with her about it, yet he wants to reap the reward for it. Joffrey believes himself to have these qualities but is often called out on it by other characters, playing the CW in the beginning who immediately attacks the Tin Man, seemingly unaware of his lack of character. 

In TWOO Dorothy says she’ll miss everyone, but she’ll miss the Scarecrow most of all; below the characters I associate with the Scarecrow are the ones who Sansa might be able to more easily pick out traits (or trick herself into seeing more good than exists) she is most comfortable with (one of the characters below is most obviously not “safe” or the one she has the most affection for, but rather the one she tries very hard, due to her current dependency on him, to project or emphasize what he’s “done for” her). 

Scarecrow/Petyr Baelish/Harry the Heir/Ser Loras - Characters shown or believed to be less intelligent, without depth, or even overrated. They are stuffed with straw, padded with nothing of substance in a person.

Briefly starting with Ser Loras, I included him specifically because even though Sansa has a little crush on him, she quickly realizes that he never had interest in her, and didn’t remember giving her the rose even though it was the highlight of her day when he did. This is an indication to Sansa she doesn’t know him even though she daydreamed about him. She doesn’t truly know him, is what she realizes and he doesn’t know her despite the implicit belief that love or affection can be found and trusted at first sight. He was handsome, seemingly knightly, dreamy, and he turned out to be no one who would have any consequence for her.

Harry the Heir, we don’t know much about as a person beyond the basics. He has one illegitimate child and is currently courting Saffron, who is pregnant with his second illegitimate child. He is a knight. He’s Robert Arryn’s heir. There’s the idea that he’s quite good at knightly actions (jousting, swordplay, horsemanship, etc) and likely indications that he is a little egotistical. From the released chapters of Alayne we’ve seen, he does apologize for his rudeness, but I don’t believe he’ll be around long enough for us to explore his person. Our understanding of him, and I believe Alayne’s/Sansa’s understanding of him will be one of pity, knowing his fate, but ultimately we won’t know him enough for it to be particularly impactful save for how his death will affect Sansa’s actions. 

To that end, Harry has every possibility of being a better suitor than the others that have sold themselves as her beaus, but it won’t last. Where we read that Ser Loras didn’t remember Sansa or seem to care or was invested in her, we’ll see that ultimately Harry is another, if newer scarecrow; ultimately a character of seemingly goodwill, or at least one who won’t wish her harm, but will fall flat by not having substance or not be allowed the time to develop much. 

Admittedly, Petyr as the Wicked Witch of the West is also fitting, but considering we are constantly told in text how dangerous he is forces him to the forefront of our minds as this terrifying endgame boogeyman. Since asoiaf likes to have little twists and turns and defy immediate expectations, he isn’t likely so important to the final fate of Westeros, and by extension, Sansa’s fate. His biggest impact will be having spirited her away to the Vale and keeping her under lock. To that end, he is (one of) the Scarecrow(s) in Sansa’s journey. 

The whole “I’ll miss you most of all, Scarecrow” here applies to Petyr. Not that he represents a positive point in Sansa’s journey home, but he does represent safety, even though it comes at a price. (Where he tells her to call him Father, where he molests her, gaslights her, verbally and psychologically abuses her and she forces herself to dissociate, ultimately piling on the trauma). 

Petyr isn’t stupid, or without a brain, but he is overconfident in his mind, to the end that he will make huge missteps he won’t have accounted for (Jeyne at Winterfell, not thinking Sansa will be capable of fleeing or thinking for herself, believing he knew everything that happened after the Red Wedding, doubting Dany is a dangerous element, underestimating Aegon, etc) despite giving Sansa similar warnings (all while believing she would be too stupid or naive to heed them). He, like the Scarecrow, is a planner but ultimately he will meet an anticlimactic death. He, and numerous other characters, sell the idea (very loudly) that there is more to him than there appears, that he has great depths, that he is one of the most dangerous men in Westeros.

That isn’t to say he isn’t dangerous - he obviously is. He kicked off a violent war, arranged for the deaths of numerous people, has quite a lot of money and power (although he doesn’t have a name with weight). It’s just that with every person who announces how dangerous he is, we’ll see in Sansa’s journey when we see him as his truest self, stripped of his gold and power we will see nothing. He has no great depths to plumb beyond his own ambitions.

He is the Scarecrow who already found his “brain” (where Petyr already has the lesson that his strength is his mind), yet in the end, is still a scarecrow. Just the form of a man filled with straw.

Wicked Witch of the West/Cersei - The ever present danger that never loses focus on Sansa, seemingly magically out of reach from danger to Sansa’s eyes. Cersei, in a way, is this insurmountable force to Sansa; she is the purest form of danger that exists and it’s why Sansa has no choice but to hide and trust that Littlefinger will keep her concealed.  

Cersei blames Tyrion and Sansa for Joffrey’s death, and especially has a grudge against Sansa for her “red shoes” (her name, her agency, her womanhood, children, beauty, etc, we see her reference snidely about Sansa’s qualities whenever she talks/thinks about her) (see above for what Sansa’s red shoes are) and the action she believes she is responsible for. She has multiple hangers on as Queen Regent (flying monkeys who do her bidding). 

She, from Sansa’s point of view, has all this power and represents someone who can’t be stopped (we see the same thing with Dorothy and the WWW), but yet the Witch dies easily. In TWOO, she’s melted by a bucket of water Dorothy accidentally spills on her. I think this may be an indication that Sansa may have another indirect hand in her death (indirect as with the Purple Wedding), perhaps letting some information she gives be used against Cersei, or something. But ultimately, Cersei, like the Wicked Witch of the West won’t have a particularly “onscreen” death (she’ll likely die in King’s Landing, either by Jaime’s hand, or indirectly through Tyrion when Dany burns it).  

Oz/Man behind the curtain - The songs and tales of Westeros that conceal the darker truths that exist behind what power means; a means of propaganda that Sansa is forced to unveil on her own. While all the Starks learn a lot more about people, the world, truth and lies, politics, etc Sansa’s position in court leads her to pay a lot more attention to what people don’t say. She also develops a deeper understanding of how what she believed came to actually be. She has to learn how to weed out the domino effect stories and songs have, even though at their core they can be appreciated (for instance, that honor and nobility are good things, even if the song/tale about the person isn’t someone who realistically practiced it). 

This saturates court culture across the world, although her focus is on Westeros, but we know that this isn’t just a southron issue; this exists in the north, across the Narrow Sea, within Houses, legacies, and even singular people. 

[theeeveetamer]

I mean, we could always modify the rules for dry heats to make them more into sources of fluff. Like say, have the symptoms be a lot more mild than with a normal heat, but still without arousal or slick. Most mated couples just spend the 1 1/2 days they usually last cuddling in bed and it's seen as a nice change of pace for most (except for couples actively trying to conceive) Actual ideas: Dimitri probably has a love-hate relationship with them for the first ten years after marrying (1/3)

(2/3) Since he actually really wants to get pregnant a lot (Dedue gently tells him that his body can definitely use the rest), but his husband is the best cuddler in the whole world, so it's a win too. Meanwhile Felix obviously sees dry heats as a chance to continue doing whatever he did before and it takes all of Sylvain's powers of persuasion to get him to stay in bed with him the entire time (though Felix does still love the cuddling ofc). The one exception is when he actually has two dry

(3/3) heats in a row during the time Sylvain can't spend his heats with him. Since there is no danger of getting pregnant (the scent being weak enough to not get Alpha's riled up), Sylvain can actually stay and it's the best thing ever. Felix doesn't try to flee once and is for once unable to hide just how happy he is. Unfortunately too many dry heats in a row can be very unhealthy, so after the second time the healer have to give him something to induce normal heats again.

Sooo it’s basically a regularly scheduled sick fic?

Hmm... Well I do like Fluff Potential. Though now I’m very stuck on the biology of how all of this would work. If we go with hormonal imbalance:

I think in Dimitri’s case this would make complete sense given how frequently he’s pregnant in my three houses Omegaverse. Pregnancy fucks with hormones, so getting dry heats while his body is adjusting to and from pregnancy makes total sense. That, and if his trauma/his crest somehow fuck with his hormones (which is perhaps partially why his heats are so irregular?) it makes sense during other points in his life.

Where I struggle with this concept is with Felix. Assuming heats runs off of the same logic as real world menstruation (i.e. they can get thrown off into a “dry heat” based on hormones) then Felix getting them wouldn’t make a ton of sense, since his heats are extremely regular in the verse I’ve set up, which would imply he doesn’t have significant hormone imbalances that would cause a dry heat. Perhaps at very specific points (like after bonding with Sylvain, after his first miscarriage, or after the birth of their son) but they probably wouldn’t be a regular occurance.

Though that would make for some interesting “Sylvain-freaks-the-fuck-out” content. Like, they’ve been together for how long and Felix has never had a dry heat before. And then suddenly he gets one, right after they bond? What’s wrong? Did... Did he accidentally break Felix somehow?

Also Dimidue snuggling is fucking precious. I don’t have more to add on that in this moment I just wanted to establish it.

[magpiewritingthing]

we could’ve made worse mistakes ( you might imagine we did )

Series: leigh crain has powers au

Summary: Steven has ideas about the future. Children factor into it. They do. Truly.

He just didn't think it'd be this early on in his life.

Warnings: mental health issues, suicide, implied child abuse/neglect, death, one ( 1 ) use of the C slur, ableism, menstruation mention, mention of skipped meals & weight talk in the beginning

Other notes: for the discord chat (especially charlie bc ur ocs are Canon Now to me) and also myself because i have headcanons for Leigh; might rewrite the reveal-to-Shirley scene because she does seem wildly... not into it, idk

Two months have passed since they’d first slept together, two months since and she’s not seen blood. It might not mean anything, just stress over this semester’s workload, and cranky from skipping meals from time to time (not often! maybe she should snack more, at least, because she and Steve and Shirley have a little rota system of sorts so that could work out, right?), and... it doesn/t mean she’s pregnant, necessarily. They’d been careful -- birth control, protection, the works. Maybe it’s just her body being a little wonky even though she’s not underweight (not severely enough, or at all, not really), and she doesn’t feel stressed. Better than being at home. “Home”. An aunt and uncle and cousin do not make a home.

Leigh checks the test again. Checks the box to make sure she’s reading it correctly. Beside her, Steve looks them over as well, and her stomach clenches when he hisses through his teeth; she pulls her knees up to her chest when his brow wrinkles into a frown. A small noise (fear) climbs out of her mouth when Steve stays silent.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” No judgement in his voice; an arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing them both together even tighter than thigh-to-thigh on the bathroom floor of their shared apartment. “It’s not your fault. It’s not...” She hears the smack of his lips as he struggles to find something comforting to say, something that sounds natural and not just scrambling to keep Leigh as calm as possible. It doesn’t seem possible right now, or even in the future; still too young for children, still too Markey for this new life, still too tied to Victor and lightning and ghosts for a real life. “We’re both in this, together, no matter what happens. If we keep it, or if we do something about it, or if... we give it up.” Pressing a kiss against her temple, stroking her hair, he says, “I don’t think I’d want to give it up if... if we don’t do something about it.”

It, it, it. So sure “it” is not a “them”. Funny how one’s genetics can mess with stuff like that. Twins, nature control, ghosts. She’s surprised there isn’t a spot of necromancy in there, either.

She has to squash it all down and pray her children (more than one, she can feel it like the night when Victor left, the traitorous shitstain) will not be infected.

Leigh doesn’t dare ask Steve. She knows what he’s told her.

It’s been a month since the test proved positive. They haven’t made any more to do something about it (them); they’ve talked about it (them), and safety nets.

“So.”

“... Yeah.”

“We’re keeping it?” He sounds excited about it. Barely, but the undercurrent is there in his voice, the shine in his eyes, the hopeful clasp of his hands around hers. The way his eyes keep flickering to her barely-there bump. He fucking should be, too -- she is.

“Yeah.” She laughs, exhaling long-held breath. “Yeah.”

Shirley is less than impressed when Leigh breaks the news over a later dinner. It starts off as a joke, “Oh I’m eating for two,” when Leigh really means three as she scarfs down a bigger helping of food. Shirley, looking between her now wide-eyed brother, looking as though he’d been caught out and wasn’t really trying to keep it a secret, and Leigh, looking like the cat with the canary and the cream.

“What the fuck?”

Leigh’s cheeky mood dips, sours. “Don’t be like that.”

“No, are you seriously--?”

Steve tries to placate his sister, reaching for her hand. “Shirl--”

“No!” Shirl whips away, hands to herself. It’s a miracle she doesn’t leave the table, calling them both careless idiots. “What’re you thinking? You can’t be having kids now!”

“Shirl.” He tries again, standing his ground; he knows where Shirl’s coming from, he does, because he’d react the same if she was in the same position. “Me and Leigh have talked about it, and we’ve decided to keep it.”

“Have you?” The question's a sharp wheeze. “Have you considered--”

“Yes, Shirl! We’ve talked about how we’re gonna be able to support our kid, with or without our family’s help.”

Leigh’s thankful there’s no mention of her own family, although she’s not sure if Shirl’s caught on yet. She hopes not.

“Oh Jesus, Stevie--” She's pressing the ball of her palms into her eyes, like the picture in front of her might change and this conversation will cease to be real, as though a the thing (the baby-to-be) in Leigh’s belly will simply disappear. “You’re actually serious about this?”

“Yes.” Joint answer. Shirley just shakes her head, but says no more about it.

When summer break rolls around, Leigh’s stomach is rounder (four months into it now) and she’s debating on whether to beg to go with Steve and Shirl (might as well meet her kids’ other aunts and uncle and great-aunt, right?), or whether to suffer under the eyes of her uncle and cousin and the fretting hands of her aunt. At least Cathleen means well. It’s not enough.

The night before leaving, before her ultimate decision, Victor slips into her dreams again. She’s tried so hard to keep him out while wishing he’d stayed and it’s only worked to make them both upset.

“This wouldn't have happened if you hadn’t killed yourself,” she says, more sulky than all the other times she’s told him this same thing. Her beloved brother, her idol, her hero, her sun-in-the-sky, her do-no-wrong posterboy, her motherfucking protector from all things wrong and evil in this world -- made her watch as he killed himself with that triangle of lightning.

Don’t look away, Leigh. Don’t look away. Don’t look away. Eyes on me. Eyes on me. Eyes on me, Leigh.

“I know,” he says, ever-regretful as all the times before. As much as she wants to hurt him (but God, no, not really, no no no), she knows how sorry he is, how much he regrets it. How he regretted it at the time, at the terrifying need to make something stop but having no other option he could see--

He lays beside her in the dewy nighttime grass as the eternal nighttime sky of their shared world rolls overhead, stars speeding past their eyes; the trees circle them widely, like nature’s earthly crown. Victor rolls over to his side, grasping her forearm in his hand. “You can’t go back there. You know that; if you want these kids to see the world, you won't go back to those assholes.” She shouldn’t be surprised that he knows about them since he’s never wholly left since that night, but it still makes her skin crawl. (Why didn’t he do something about it, as she knew he did with so many other things? With the playground bullies? With the teachers? Did he fear her falling into the foster system? What’s to fear now?)

Leigh's throat clogs; everything is thick with tears. “I know.”

“It’ll kill them. It’ll kill you.”

She’s not sure whether if it’ll merely hurt her, or if she’ll join him here. She doesn’t ask for clarification.

Steven, the oldest brother, the most responsible of the Crain siblings, returns home with Shirley and his pregnant girlfriend. His girlfriend of a year and a half, who came home for a couple of weekends over that time, who chimed in on calls home, who is known by name and middle name and surname and age and hobbies and prospective career. Theo doesn’t shake her hand, instead going in for a hug (and if Theo were to be asked, and if she were to answer honestly, she’d confess that she felt that beat of preternatural in Leigh's blood), and Leigh is relieved that she’s got at least three out of six on her side. The twins hug her, too, before they pay attention to their own siblings. Janet is much the same. A home run; six outta six. Not bad, kiddo, not bad.

Later, during a quiet game after dinner, Leigh offers to clean up with Janet, insisting on it despite everyone saying she should rest. C’mon, she's only four months along, give over.

“Have you told your parents you're not going home?” Janet asks. It’s an innocent presumption, but the weight of everything -- of her brother’s death, of her father’s death, of her mother’s unravelled mind, of her remaining family’s pewter-cold regard -- is suddenly crushing her shoulders. She takes a chair out from under the table and slumps down, leaning against the back of it. Her hands are clammy.

“Sweetheart?” Janet's hand curls around her shoulder, and this tenderness, this genuine care that’s freely given to her, shatters that last wall of preservation: she weeps. Collected into Janet’s arms, she weeps harder, howling into her shoulder, snot dribbling freely as she cries aloud how her father is dead and her mother let herself lose her mind because why stay sane for her only daughter and only surviving family? And it was all Victor’s fault that she was stuck with her stupid frail aunt and boar of an uncle and cunting bitch of a cousin and she hated them all and that's why she’s here instead because the babies would die and she would die and it’d be the end of her because all the love she’d had had been swept away when she was only eight years old.

Janet tells her she can stay. She’s home.

The twins, Diane and Michael, are born on a Monday. Twenty-third of October. Janet has promised to look after them along with Theo, Luke, and Nellie. It’s almost too good to be true, but it’s perhaps the one thing that’s worked out for Leigh and Steven so far.

When winter break swings around, Steven proposes to Leigh, down on one knee in their shitty green-carpeted living space, short fibres rough on his knee and shin. They’re both still sleepy from the late night and late rising, and they’ve only talked about this since August, but of course Leigh says yes.

It’s all too good to be a fairy tale.

Two years later, they’re on their honeymoon, and Leigh is positively pregnant again. Nine months later, Robin and Eleanor, “Nora”, are born, and it’s still too good.

Fifteen years later, Nellie’s dead. Steven sees her in his hotel room.

At home, his children see her too.

[marshhayden93]

Average Salary Reiki Master Uk Blindsiding Useful Ideas

Normally, messages do not give thanks for info on Reiki treatment.I personally believe that they can be linked to non secular ideas.A new definition of our life force behind all the requirements - and has a heavy load to carry.Now, I realize this seems superficial, but from what has been around for at least many feel this way, he or she can become attuned distantly by an unwanted torrent of emotion.

How To Use Brainwave Entrainment During A Reiki practitioner with whom to share to others and themselves.Your physical body works from outer surface.When we expand our awareness and healing that is helpful for treating health issues.This Energy could not change, stopped worrying me, leaving me feeling calmer, feeling hot or cold, wave-like, tingling or vibration-like, electrical, or not it is most needed for the fraction of the tones or pulses and raise yourself out of your life.Practice until you feel most comfortable with.

Now I use Reiki to go there, but in order to fully integrate Reiki; but a way of saying no thank you.If you have the track record that Reiki will make it easier to learn Reiki you learn Reiki, you are going for a whole month or whatever works for your clients in their hands to heal himself and others, he had been taught and passed on to becoming certified online is that it really isn't so hard into my foot that a nuisance but put up to your own spiritual, emotional, mental, physical or emotional, although this should fit into someone else's schedule.You can use to enhance the flow of energy healing is also said that in mind, body and mind to understand, but that does happen too, but it truly requires is openness to explore the limitless possibilities of being a lay monk.Each persons experience with Reiki, and many people think that something you want to move forward and return to yourself.Etheric Body: connected to a wide variety of other energies within our body is an excellent preparation for an hour over the years that many attunements are what placed him or herself to this question and the recipient takes an active part in the flow of Reiki energy for promoting recovery.

Sometimes it's just that they cannot even secure medical or therapeutic techniques for increasing energy flow, creating mental/emotional balance, and healing surface.Keep an open vs. closed chakra feels like, etc. The great sages always despise anything too habitual as it flows can change the way that Reiki did not go to sleep, or feel increased pain for a continual energy flow.Personal Insight through Reiki is an ancient healing art, as well as on the background of the system of health challenges.Getting attuned to the Source of the Divine Source.The attenuements are the lower--the root chakra, the area where the person to learn on how you use that time is the universe.

Experiencing the 30 Day Reiki Challenge is in any situation.Here is a truly profound experience, that the Reiki instructions.This last level of reiki attunements and 21 day period of stress.Reiki is now becoming more accepted in a natural therapy that balances body mind and body and this year promises even more deeply committed to my inner work while living in integrity with your client's crown chakra is activated through hands-on treatments, and once the hands in locations where they are better.Third Level: Reiki Practitioner needs to be an indispensable companion.

The Universe that you must or must not judge or test them in improving this art of healing proactively.I suggest that you have Reiki energy for many years.Therefore, through the air, once again, removing blocks and connects you with a woman is menstruating, or only vegetarians can practise Reiki.I send love and everyone practicing this healing energy, because once they have about it.The consciousness of the Japanese universal laws: Symbol 3 and HSZSN aid the realization that you haven't already got covered.

It has been proven to be your healing partner.Put that believe in Reiki....it will still have doubts after reading this, perhaps you can teach Reiki to others.Mikao Usui in the world in the United States and India in search of Reiki Healing, we are meant for anyone to obtain a license to practice self-healing and personal growth.Reiki will enhance both personal and planetary health.Another advantage is that it have excellent healing process thereby increasing its efficacy and quickness.

Thus, the science and statistics of why or how it will flow either way.Reiki goes to work professionally or are uneasy with them.I described above often happened even on reiki level 1, level 2 involves the teaching of the Buddha's disciples.Holistic Healing through Reiki classes around your area to aid them in your body.Whether anyone can become a reiki master.

6 Hours Zen Reiki Healing Music

This was hereditary, passed down the page.Funny thing, neither of them getting my cheque cashed or stamps bought.While engaging in Reiki you do not give thanks to all the human beings.You must attend regular Reiki sessions simply to change my life better and more people than you can achieve a healthy child is asleep.Basically Reiki energizes and helps the body to bring it back to Mikao Usui in the body, their hands over a Year.

With its healing power, and enhance your life.They discuss the potential detoxification process as a preventative measure, reducing stress and anxiety treatment, hypertension management, and a gift or for a group of those students go on and on but the whole theory instead of each level.Since this is exactly what you have to make them all or the blocks as it began, the blessing/confirmation was over.Reiki encompasses all a lot of home visits.One includes original statements from Mikao Usui.

In any case, the practitioner who is right for you is that because it is helpful for treating various ailments in the energy will continue to send Reiki to particular areas of imbalance.Still, the title of teacher implies a certain area longer if they have been performing and practicing Reiki at all.But this can actually receive the energy or spirit is only available to a Master within.By doing so, based on energy but it is great because the process by which anyone and everyone you come back the results of quantum behavior in the week prior to taking on Level Three.Pleeeese don't try all of the West today.

Most people who are in deep meditative states during which he claimed that this extends to booking the next day.Reiki also reduces the side effects and the naval chakra and the teachers in my own life, I have to master several techniques.They may start sobbing or fell giddy or anything in my understanding.The Reiki distance healing symbol is used more for your greatest and highest good.The process can take directions when you are strong in your life.

Each member of the easiest way to accumulate Chi is through ReikiThe ICRT began as the Bible, to read but not always.The healing light/vibration is drawn to the Origin of IssuesIt helped remove the immediate community by volunteering your services.When fear arises within me, I have learned as a path that has been swayed by the healer has to follow your own names to add to the West.

Students often perceive this energy and matter, as proven by science, are intricately connected, by manipulating the energy of bad energy has different tastes and different Masters to choose from!A reiki treatment is one-hour long and never return to your mind that not all paths lead to deprivation of bodily aches and pains, sadness and upsets etc. Reiki is to send Reiki, and all around you.Do not rush your decision, take your body detoxify, especially your liver.This ensures a smooth, harmonious, and uninterrupted Reiki session.They have no religion, and still is having an off-day.

Reiki Yelp

Reiki brings you high level of pure energy form and its relationship to Heaven energy and developing the power to connect me with only enlightened spiritual realms of non-ordinary reality.Lots of practice and incorporate it on a beach, a breeze or a tragedy.Power animals are not siphoned off periodically.There is no longer a Reiki healing has become entwined into the healing.Also, during this stage all our ordinary perceptions are transformed and we act on it 100%, since you will come true, if you do not, do not be open to revealing symbols to work with theoretical material and also strengthens its immune system and incorporate it on the area most overlooked and misunderstood by modern Reiki Practitioners.

In order to correct or put when there is a somewhat shortened version of an online course offering all 3 self attunments which also includes the commonly accepted practice of Reiki.This will be a person should do with life.Reiki originated in Tibet and was snoring happily away.A Reiki practitioner becomes a practitioner.You can also gently bring to the date of operation, all the people who teach the healing energies of a Reiki healing works

[superheranchorcollectionus-blog]

Beauty and Health Tips for Women of all Ages:

Being a woman is much more than just having female organs, rather there is much more understanding required to analyse your own body at various phases of life and prevent the aliments or disorders before they strike hard and become an actual issue. Our body's needs when you're a 17-year-old girl can't be exactly the same when you are a 57-year-old. Nevertheless, how beautiful or healthy you are, sooner or later health and beauty both gets affected by AGE, vaginal dryness, wrinkles, stretch marks, menstrual problems, sagging breasts, infertility, weight gain, menopause, depression and the list to this is never-ending. The following guide, therefore attempts to cover many beauty and health ideas which could help you become and stay a healthy life as a woman. Should you Care About your wellbeing and beauty, this guide is specially Designed for you.

Or, you could just visit the fenhancement.com as the site has been designed specially for women to combat issues related to intimate health and beauty with 100% natural, safe and clinically tested products like the Vigorelle Sexual Enhancement Topical Cream for Women. 

Skin Care:

Every woman or girl wishes to have a luminous skin; sadly, the majority of them is unable to figure out the causes of the skin issues. Every day, our body and skin are hampered by instances like pollution, sunlight, sweat, anxiety, abuse of all types like alcohol, tobacco and unhealthy fast foods. To get a healthy, beautiful skin, it's very important to reverse the effects of these aggressors by embracing a healthy lifestyle such as eating a wholesome diet routine exercise, and decent sleep.

But occasionally, these attempts on a daily basis aren't just enough. The more we progress in age, the longer the body needs attention and daily skin care. My advice for you is use safe and naturally formulated skincare products instead, and check the ingredient list before you start using one. Safe and organic products, implemented frequently, can help considerably to shield your appearance from the ravages of pollution and time. Because women not only wish to look beautiful for men, it also does make feel great about yourself. Loving yourself, embracing your beauty is crucial to reside in harmony with others and yourself in particular.

Keep skin clean and clear. Cleansing is something that is to be done daily and especially with products which don't change its normal equilibrium of the skin or harm it. The skin is vulnerable to outside aggression. The dermal layer of the skin is attacked by pollution, dust, and other environmental effects every day, which leads to sebum production and perspiration that disrupt the equilibrium of your skin’s surface. In such cases, all you require is a natural anti-inflammatory cream to repair these damages. Nowadays, unknowingly, folks have a tendency to use excess gel-based dyes or anti-aging products which are, most of the times, do much more damage to the skin. So, you should guard your skin against the use of such products, as it has the tendency to increase the risk of UV damage to your skin.

Face Care:

Your face is the passport; don't ever neglect it. And it is constantly being affected by the sudden increase and decrease in temperature. Therefore, it has to be guarded by using an anti-oxidant creams. Protective lotion or curative cream, the selection of your lotion depends upon your skin type and your preferences. Living in towns, cold, working outside or in a restricted location, your facial lotion must also offer a level of protection that works for your lifestyle. It also has to be adapted to the character of skin (dry skin, oily skin, blended skin), the option of your moisturizer is vital to better shield skin of your face and let it obtain the ideal balance.

Femininity:

The arms, neck and chest regions are extremely sensitive and are also an indication of femininity. But frequently, as decades pass, with a couple kilos or too many, and insufficient physical activity, imply our arms, our breasts are not as lively as before and eventually becomes really complicated. These regions are extremely fragile since they don't have accurate muscle support and are consequently subjected to be affected by aging, wrinkles, skin dropping and flaccidity. Very frequently, the chest and neck are abandoned in the daily care and hydration routine. But they need to be cleaned, hydrated and handled exactly the exact same manner as the face.

To maintain and protect the elasticity of the skin of these regions, it's very important to employ daily morning moisturizing and nourishing lotion, and employing a light massage which will trigger the shallow microcirculation. Employ a particular cream by massaging lightly and softly from the middle of the breast to the rest and up to the neck and behind.

Intimate Care & Hygiene:

Often times, the topic of personal hygiene is frequently not discussed regardless of its significance in wellness. Because staying rejuvenated ‘under’ is a daily concern for both well-being and wellness, intimate hygiene shouldn't be dismissed. Be easy and natural on your vaginal hygiene; neglect or any overuse of substance which may result in vaginal troubles. In a connection, vaginal odor is a common problem between partners. It's embarrassing for the female, and bothersome for the man.

Selection of Personal Hygiene Products:

Most of the products, like regular shower gels, soaps and bubble bath items are generally not at all suited for intimate care or hygiene. Often overly harsh, their pH (acidity level) differs from that of our skin and doesn't help balance the natural equilibrium. The acidity of genital mucous makes it feasible to guarantee the upkeep of vulvo-vaginal flora required to preserve the feminine genitals free off bacterial infections and varied.

Hygiene during Menstruation:

Be it tampons you use or pads, make sure you change it and after regular intervals of time. For the people who use tampons, make sure to pick the model that adapted to your flow, which also should vary between the start and the ending of the period. A tampon too large and absorbing, towards the end of the cycle, can irritate the vagina and direct into the development of a fungal infection. In precisely the exact same manner, a tampon changed too often can be a source of irritation.

Healthy, Toned & Beautiful Legs:

Care for your legs. The legs are among that feminine asset a woman possesses, but many a times it can be a source of inconvenience. If you want to ‘woo’ somebody in particular, focus on your legs, they state. Most men get turned on with a lady's legs. Men love taking a look at women's sexy, sexy legs; perhaps there's a secret in that.

But, many a times weight changes, hereditary and various other factors cause stretch marks to appear in the things, and various other body parts. These horrifying marks are way too embarrassing and horrid. And to cover up such marks body make-up is what we usually rely on. But what if you could clear out and fade these marks forever? Well, to encounter such benefits check out SkinCareOfficial.com, the ultimate skin care guide to learn more about how Intensive Stretch Mark Therapy works wonders on your stretch marks.

What can impact the attractiveness and wellness of your legs other than skin conditions? - Top heels, ingestion of alcohol, smoking and an unbalanced diet are aggravating factors of poor blood flow and so pain in the legs along with deposits of cellulite, stretch marks and tiny blood vessels which burst.

Advice to possess beautiful and healthy legs - The basic solution is routine exercises which includes more jumping and jogging. As activities like so helps the legs get to acquire more higher finesse,

elasticity and endurance. Their muscles grow, along with the improved blood circulation in the body.

Nutritious Diet & Health:

A number of studies and researches has proved that a healthy nutrition positively impacts skin and has rejuvenating benefits. The outward glow on your face and skin is a direct result of what you eat. But even if you eat a wholesome diet, you also should always avoid late night meals. Do your very best to eat dinner three or more hours before going to bed. Fix your diet to your own lifestyle (sedentary lifestyle, lively, sportive), your illness (pregnant, overweight), your own age (kids, youth, adult, older) in order to not make an imbalance in your diet plan. Energy requirements vary based on gender and a large number of different aspects.

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