#just very self conscious. also when you look healthy and like an able young man you get lots of 'how dare you' type shit

[milkweedman]

Not me putting off trying my wheel again bc im afraid that even on a 'good day' I might not be able to treadle. Hah. :/

Edit: OK either im not on a good day or else my good days are now hell, so I guess I will be avoiding the wheel out of sheer emotional self preservation

[scarlettwitcher]

Daddy

Summary: Geralt allows Y/n to call him a nickname she hears and soon faces the consequences for it.

Characters: Geralt, Reader, Jaskier

Word Count: 3,161

Warnings: fluff, tinsy bit of angst, mentions of abuse, sexual frustration(?), implied smut, this is basically just a crack fic, dom!Geralt, and daddy!geralt

Author’s Note: So this was a head cannon I shared with my girl @queenxxxsupreme and let’s just say I got her hooked on this imagine. I hope you guys like this, it really was just for fun. Also, send my girl some love for being the amazing beta she is. Love ya babe! I have a few WIPs that I won’t be able to release until next week because I have a wedding tomorrow and plans all day sunday so I hope y’all accept this in the meantime. Tag lists are open as are requests! As always, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome! 

You shivered under the Witcher’s touch, the first kind feeling you’ve had in years, as he tried to comfort you after finding you alone in the forest. The vampire that caught you when you were young was sadistic to say the least. He really didn’t need you for your blood but you were his drug. Years passed after he snatched you away from your home but you lost count after the first year. The vampire trained you, turning you into his submissive blood bag. By the time you turned eighteen, you knew nothing of the outside world other than the vampire that had you under lock and key. 

It seemed like fate finally wanted to intervene when the vampire left you alone at his cabin. He left the dark home to get some supplies in town and left you alone. You took the risk to finally free yourself of your binds and run free from the prison you had lived in. You really didn’t get far before running into a very tall, and intimidating man which you found really odd considering you were in the middle of a forest. He had white hair and golden eyes that watched you with caution, almost as if you’d attack him at any moment. You began to fear for your life and you could only assume the man in front of you could tell by the way he slowly raised his hands in surrender towards you. Something about this man made you trust him just a bit as he got closer and grunted a greeting. “Are you alright miss?”

“I-I’m okay… I think.”

“Are you lost?”

“Not really… W-where am I?”

“You’re outside of Cintra.” You could only nod quietly as you looked around at the quiet forest. You really had no idea where you were. You suddenly felt a bit self-conscious under the strange man’s gaze, knowing you were covered in dirt and your clothes were torn, and dirty. You stood there awkwardly before clearing your throat. 

“Could you help me…..please? I just escaped the man that had me captive and I need some help.” Geralt took a deep breath as his eyes wandered around all of the trees he was surrounded with. He grunted, nodding once, as he helped you climb on his horse, holding the reins as he walked down a path. And that was the start of the wonderful adventure the two of you would embark for a few years. 

After Geralt found you in the woods, he took you in, cared for you. Within the first night, he helped you bathe since you were really weak and very malnourished. When Geralt saw your skin for the first time, he couldn’t help the surprise and concern that flooded his features. Your skin was sickly pale from never being in the sun. Your skin clung to your bones and you were covered with scars from head to toe. Most were whip scars while some were burns and others claw marks. After that first night, Geralt swore to himself to always protect you. He never knew why he felt such an intense need to care for you but he didn’t really want to think about it. 

After the first year of traveling with the Witcher, you were healthy. Your skin was glowing and you had gained enough meat on your bones, making you a plump little thing that most men couldn’t keep their eyes off: including Geralt. He never knew when his feelings grew stronger, when he started to love you. He never let it show, never wanting to risk his enemies using you against him and you stayed your oblivious self. 

“Geralt, please, can we stop at the next town for the night? I’m quite tired.” You whined quietly as you tugged on his pants as you walked next to him riding Roach. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, his lip quirking up slightly as he watched you pout up at him. You were very innocent but you knew that you could always win the Witcher over with your puppy eyes and soft pout. 

“But we’ve only been walking for a few hours, princess.” You huffed at the nickname, knowing he was trying to get a rise out of you. 

“Come on, Ger, it’s been a few days. Please?” You pouted harder, making the widest puppy dog eyes you could muster at him. Geralt chuckled as he saw you. He couldn’t help the feeling that was blooming inside of him, making him feel warm as he watched you. What he would give to just have you every which way he wanted you. 

“Okay, okay, well stop tonight.” You jumped gleefully as Geralt chuckled quietly. After walking for a few more hours, you encountered a rather large town. While Geralt stopped at a stable to leave Roach, you got rooms for the night. You watched Geralt make his way to the Tavern and knew to join him there when you were done. Once you had the room keys, you made your way to the tavern, passing the town’s brothel. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see him. He was gorgeous. Might even be Daddy.” Your brows furrowed as you heard some of the women speak. 

“The Witcher is your daddy now?“ 

“That hair, that body, and that ass. He could murder me and all I would say is, ‘thank you daddy.’” The girls laughed as they looked at the girl who was speaking with incredulous looks. You wondered if the Witcher had a new title along with all the other names he gained over the years. The girls noticed you walking by and hushed their conversation. You made your way to the tavern walking in, finding your companion at the table in the back. You quickly made your way over, dropping in the seat next to him, like you always did, as you grabbed his cup, taking a sip from the ale. Geralt watched you amused. You could never finish a full mug of Ale and would rather steal sips from Geralt’s, which he never minded. 

“Thanks for taking care of me all this time." 

Geralt knew you always felt like a burden and while he knew you weren’t, he couldn’t say it. He could see you wouldn’t believe it. So instead, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him for a side hug. You personally knew Geralt did not like public affection but when you needed it, he would give in just a little. That was your reassurance enough. Geralt took the mug of ale from you, taking a large sip as you smiled softly. "Thanks daddy." 

It took you a second to realize what happened as the Witcher beside you was coughing loudly. You looked at the table covered in ale and realized he had spit it all out and was now choking. You watched him with worry as he kept coughing, trying to compose himself. The rest of the tavern had gone silent to watch Geralt choke. Finally, after what felt like eternity, his cough had calmed down. He took a sip of what was left of the drink to calm his throat. He looked at you bewildered as you watched him with concern. 

"A-are you okay?" 

"Where did you learn that word?” You looked at him confused, wondering why he was asking you that. 

“I-i was walking past the brothel and a few girls called you daddy. I thought it was a nickname like White wolf… ” You started to feel embarrassed for using the word and you looked down at the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used it.” Geralt watched you intensely as he tried to figure out what to do. He wouldn’t deny the blood that rushed to his cock the moment you said the title. Why it turned him on was beyond him but the words coming from your lips would have him coming undone. He didn’t like how you felt ashamed and he sighed, giving in just a bit. 

“Don’t apologize dove. It’s.. okay. I don’t mind it, just took me by surprise.” Your head whipped up and a large smile painted your features as you jumped up into his arms, hugging him tightly. You licked your lips and whispered. 

“I’m glad you’re okay with it, daddy.” With that, you let go and moved to leave the tavern, leaving Geralt’s room key on the table as you sauntered off towards your own room, ready to sleep the night off. Geralt watched you dumbfounded as he opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t. He was fucked. 

A few months had passed since that night and you both continued on your travels. In one town that you stopped, you met a healer who was willing to teach you her tricks while you were in town. Geralt had a contract that would take at least a month. You were more than happy to learn how to patch up the big idiot you traveled with. One night you learned how to heal a deep wound with a simple spell and you were too excited, you wanted to tell Geralt. The moment he walked into your shared room, you pounced. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Guess what I learned today?” Geralt closed his eyes tightly as he took a second to will his feelings way. He knew if he didn’t, he’d jump you and fuck you into the floor until you were both covered in splinters. You noticed the way Geralt stiffened and moved closer poking his chest. His eyes snapped open, watching you with an intensity that had you bouncing on your heels. “I-i learned a spell today!" 

"Daddy, look at this dress. It’s so beautiful.”

“I found these flowers near the river. I thought you’d like them daddy." 

"You’re so brave, daddy. You saved them." 

"Daaadddy please." 

Geralt seemed grumpier and grumpier every day. Geralt should’ve known this was a bad idea. He was mad for letting himself think with his dick and not his head. You had stopped at a town for the night, since you were exhausted. Walking into a tavern for the night, you heard soft strumming and you would’ve recognized the voice everywhere. 

"Jask!” The Bard turned swiftly on his heels as he saw you and smiled widely. 

“Ah, is that the precious Y/n I see?” You giggled as you ran over hugging him tightly as you rested your head on his chest. “And the White Wolf! Tell me, darling, how you’ve managed to stay with him so long." 

"Jask, I can’t give away my secrets.” Jaskier laughed and nodded towards a table as you sat beside him, talking up a storm, telling him everything you had learned and all of the adventures you and Geralt had while the Witcher only watched the two of you amused. 

“So, of course, daddy walks into the tent, soaked in blood, getting everything else covered in blood and he-”

“Daddy?” Jaskier looked taken aback as his eyes drifted between you and Geralt but as his eyes remained on Geralt far longer than you, a smirk creeped on his features as he laughed. “Are you two-”

“No.” Geralt’s thick voice penetrated the air for the first time that night. 

“Oh, Jask! It’s one of his nicknames. He said it was okay for me to use it.”

“One of his nicknames you say? Who used it darling?" 

"Some woman at a brothel.” Jaskier couldn’t contain his laughter as he smiled smugly at Geralt who was looking at everything except the Bard. The color in his cheeks draining a big. Jaskier could’ve sworn he even looked nervous. 

“Well, darling, you be you. Isn’t that right,” Jaskier looked at Geralt with an evil glint in his eyes as he licked his lips. “Daddy?” Geralt’s eyes snapped up to Jaskier, glaring at the Bard. He was about to speak when he heard you softly yawn beside Jaskier. You stood and bid your good nights to the men as you made your way to the room you had booked for the night. Geralt decided to join you, knowing he didn’t want to be alone with Jaskier even for a second. Jaskier knew he had to join the two of you on your travels and decided to spend the night in your room, knowing he could sleep in your bed with you comfortably. Soon the night passed, and after the break of dawn you were on the road again. 

After a week on the road, Geralt heard of a possible contract and you all made way towards the town. Since it was a good few days of travel, the three of you took camp in the forest. You had bought a new dress and had worn it that day. You were in your tent having difficulty taking it off. “Daddy, can you help me?”

Geralt looked up from where he was sitting, staring at your tent. Jaskier couldn’t help himself as he watched Geralt almost leap at your voice. “Yeah daddy, go help her." 

"Shut up bard.”

“Awe daddy don’t be rude.” Geralt growled at him as he made his way to your tent. He entered and looked at your back. You were holding your hair up with one hand as your other one was trying to reach for the ties on the back of your dress. 

“Hey daddy, can you help me untie this?” Geralt took a deep breath as he walked towards you, looking over you like a giant tree. He reached towards the dress cautiously, letting his fingers skim over the material before slowly undoing the ties, your skin exposing more and more after every tie. The last tie ended at your lower back, just over your hips. You hummed softly as he helped you. “Thank you daddy.”

Geralt swallowed thickly as he felt himself harden, just like every time he did when he heard you use the name on him. Truth was, he absolutely adored the way you called him daddy, and he’d often go to sleep with dreams of being buried deep inside of you as you moaned the title in his ear, telling him to go harder. Geralt, too lost in his thoughts, didn’t realize he had dragged his fingers down your soft skin, relishing on the way you felt. He felt the goosebumps that littered your skin and that broke him from his lust clouded dreams. He pulled his hand back like you had burned him and disappeared from your tent in the next second. You didn’t have a chance to turn and look at him before he was gone. You couldn’t deny that you loved the way he touched your skin. You couldn’t deny the recent feelings you had for the older man and the way he made you have butterflies in your stomach. 

Jaskier watched as Geralt left your tent in haste and strummed his lute. “Didn’t go well daddy?" 

"Jaskier, I will beat you.”

“Oh no daddy. Don’t hurt me.” Geralt walked off, needing to cool down, feeling all of his pent up emotions at the tip of his tongue and cock. He was so sexually frustrated and he could only accept the fact that you were the only one who could satisfy him. He pounded his way through brothels but nothing could quite get him like you did. Your voice, your touch, the name. The stupid name. 

After settling the next night into the town with the contract, Geralt disappeared, deciding that taking his frustrations on the monster was better. The monster was no match for the pent up, sexually frustrated Witcher, going down within the minute. 

“You know, I feel like I should tell you. ‘Daddy’ isn’t one of Geralt’s names.”

“What do you mean?” You looked up from the plate of food you were inhaling at the tavern you had stopped at to eat. 

“It’s not like White Wolf. It’s more of a pet name of sorts. Like when you sleep with someone. If they like it, you use it. In this case, daddy is quite kink- darling you okay?” Jaskier watched as the blood drained from your face at his confession. You had been using a sex pet name for almost a year. Jaskier could only figure out what was going through your head as he chuckled to himself. “If he didn’t have any feelings towards you, he wouldn’t have let you use it.” You nodded quietly in understanding. You had to find out. You stood up abruptly making your way to the inn you were staying at. You didn’t know what you were going to say or even do. You just knew you had to see him. 

Barging into his room, Geralt stood with his back to you, shirtless. You licked your lips and willed your thoughts away as he only turned his head to look at you. He turned fully and watched as you stood there, looking pale and bewildered. “Dove?”

“Why do you let me call you daddy?” Geralt took a second and sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor before grunting quietly. He moved to sit on the bed as he motioned you towards him. You slowly moved in between his legs as you watched him. Even sitting he was taller than you. He grabbed your wrist pulling you into him, almost close to straddling him at this point. He cupped your cheek making you watch him. 

“Because I like the way you say it. I like the way it makes me feel." 

"But.. I- but.. " 

"I’m sorry if you feel tricked.”

“It’s not that.. It’s just, well the other day in the market, I wanted to thank the salesman for an apple he gave me and when I used the name on him, his wife threw an apple at m-” Before you could finish, Geralt growled lowly from his chest as he stopped and stood, gripping your arms tightly but not enough to hurt you as he towered over you. 

“You will not use that name with anyone else, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

“Good girl.” Geralt sat back down, pulling you with him, keeping you between his legs as he cupped your chin, making you look at him. “Love, I’ve tried holding back. You’re too pure for a man like me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. But you make me selfish. You make me crave like I’ve never before.” He leaned in his dragging his nose against your neck as you shuddered softly under his touch. He pressed a soft kiss against your neck as you shivered. “Say you do too.”

“Daddy… I’ve been yours since the day I met you.” It was like a the hold that contained Geralt’s need snapped, and everything came flooding in. He pulled you into his hold before throwing you on the bed, crawling over you, filling all of your senses that was him. 

“Good, because you belong to daddy, baby girl.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @supersassyprobablysad @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @dancingalone21 @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @brooklymw @persephonehemingway

The Witcher Tags: @alwayshave-faith @ayamenimthiriel @queenxxxsupreme @stretchkingblog97 @secretsthathauntus @sinnamon-bunn @aubageddon91 @strangerliaa @dressed-up-heartbreak @ex-templarsthot @laneygthememequeen @givemebooksorgivemedeath @afterthenightprevails @l-km07 @msgeorgiarae @uncoolcloudyhead @moderapoppins @augustwalking @yokaimoon @thatshellfiredean @riviawitch3r @sxmmylee @hookedinto-stories @theatreandtea-blog​ @nellaphine​ 

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The Alliance

Summary: Ivar takes his betrothed to meet a very special person before they depart.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

A/N: I know, I took FOREVER to post this but at last here it is in all its non-proofread glory. I hope you all enjoy it.

His father had once told him about this ridiculous Christian thing called a miracle when he was a child, it was a word he used when describing his washing up back on Kattegat shores.

Something that is not possible.

While he did truly hate the entirety of the Christian religion and those who believed in it, Ivar didn’t know any other words to describe how he had gotten a ship ready so soon.

It was almost purely a coincidence that out of a small fleet of ships that had been used to raid in England last year one hadn’t yet been completely stripped down. So Ivar hired a large group of young able bodied men and a single experienced old timer to lead them in preparing the boat.

Of course the ship being partially prepared already didn’t mean that there was not still a lot of work to be done. They still needed rations of food, ale and drinkable water for those on board to make it to Tunisia without starving. There was also a need for even more essential things like oars, a new sail, blankets, ravens and ropes.

All these things kept Ivar in a constant state of annoyance and stress, none of which was helped by the fact that he hadn’t had much time spent with his betrothed.

While he himself was very occupied with preparing for the journey, Princess (Y/N) was preparing for the arrival.

Going over details with Ragnar and hand picking the warriors she wanted to journey back with them, as well as teaching everyone her language. 

It had already been discussed during first meal that she would teach Ivar privately on the journey so that he wouldn’t have to take time away from his preparations.

At last tonight the ship was fully stocked and prepared to make the journey to Africa. Ivar felt such a sense of relief in this moment that it was only second to the feeling of winning (Y/N)’s hand in marriage. 

He was so exhausted he nearly fainted on the docks.

But he managed to pull himself the rest of the way to his chamber and was surprised to find (Y/N) sitting in his bed.

‘Ah, a pleasant surprise.’ he said as he pulled himself up onto the mattress next to her.

‘Sorry to intrude, I just needed a minute away from everyone, it feels as if I haven’t had a moment to myself since the feast.’ she said.

‘I understand, I am glad you find comfort in my chambers, since we will be sharing it rather soon.’ Ivar sighed as he laid down.

‘Tired?’

‘Exhausted, I’m honestly wishing we could just skip the weddings and just be married at this point.’ he yawned.

‘Really?’ (Y/N) asked as she laid down beside him.

Ivar was surprised by this, a small part of him had expected that now that he was here that she would leave.

‘Yes, of course I cannot wait to meet your family, I just wish the boat was easier to prepare, or at least less tiresome.’ 

‘I understand, Sven seemed stressed when he had to prepare for the journey to bring us here. I wish I could bring you some comfort.’

‘You already are, just being here.’

‘Do you really find my company so comfortable? No nervousness?’ she asked, turning onto her side to face him a bit better.

‘Why should I be nervous?’ Ivar countered. 

‘Lots of reasons, you will soon be on a boat for the first time in your life to meet the family of the woman you will be marrying.’ she said.

‘I have wanted to be on a boat on my way to new places since I was a boy, it is only now that I have the opportunity. If anything I am thankful to you, and despite how tired I am from preparing for it, I am excited for the journey.’ Ivar said softly.

‘I am nervous.’ the princess confessed.

‘Why? I cannot imagine a woman as amazing as you being nervous.’ Ivar replied as he sat up.

‘You are the first man other than my father to be in my life, and he wasn’t in it long enough. I have never felt anything for a man, but I feel something for you Ivar. Something I have never felt before and sometimes it scares me, I think that I will not be a good enough wife to you.’ she confessed. 

‘I know you will be a great wife, Freya will guide you to be the best wife in all of Midgard.’

‘Who is Freya?’

‘Freya is Odin’s wife, the goddess of fertility...and a few other things involved in marriage.’ Ivar explained.

‘Other things?’ the princess asked in confusion as she sat up and began removing her rings from her fingers.

Ivar watched almost in a trance as she reached behind her back began to undo the laces of her dress.

‘She is also the Goddess of things like war and death.’ he said, mouth going dry as the princess began comfortably removing her dress and skirts.

‘Does war and death naturally go along with marriage?’ (Y/N) asked as she finally removed the last of her skirts.

‘No...but she is also associated with beauty, lust...and sex.’

‘Sex? I imagine that is a large part of a healthy marriage. Just another reason to feel nervous I suppose.’ she said as she got back in the bed.

‘Sorry if my disrobing made you uncomfortable, I was becoming a bit warm. May I help you out of your clothes as well...My Love?’

‘My Love?’ Ivar asked, deciding not to answer her request to undress him.

‘My mother used to call my father her Love, when I was a girl I couldn’t wait to say that to someone, but then I began training and it took over my mind to the point that I forgot about my silly little dream.’ she said as she began tugging at Ivar’s tunic.

It seemed she had taken his silence as compliance and decided to just go ahead and undress him, and Ivar was too stunned to fight it. So he raised his arms and let her pull the material over his head.

‘I used to listen to my parents call each other all sorts of things, very rarely anything nice.’ Ivar said quietly as he began to become self conscious.

(Y/N) was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and her naked body was a blessing to behold, and he knew she would never find such a beauty in his broken bones.

‘I noticed, I always knew that all marriages were not out of love, but all the ones I have seen normally have a bit more...respect between them. I imagine a lot of anger has been between your mother and father, I’m sure they each have reasons.’ she said as she stood in front of him

‘They have plenty of reasons, they share them quite often, I’m sure you will find out once we are officially married. They will grow tired of acting civil quite quickly once they no longer need to impress you. Pretty soon my mother will be complaining drunkenly to you while my father seethes.’ he tried to joke to mask the way he flinched when she went to remove his pants.

The princess saw his tenseness and stilled her motions.

‘I want to see them Ivar...I want to see you. I am to be your wife and you are to be my husband. You belong to me just as I belong to you, please let me see you.’ she asked.

‘You are kind...and naive. I can look at you and see that  you have never felt disgust; true and complete disgust, the kind that makes you want to turn away so that when your stomach lurches you don’t have to worry about adding your sick to an already unpleasant sight. I do not want you to feel such a thing for me yet.’ 

‘I would never find you disgusting, you are the man who bested me in combat. What about you could be disgusting? Your strength, your character?’

‘My legs, more than once I’ve seen women look away from me in favor of my brothers.’ Ivar said.

‘I have never favored your brothers, not to say I do not like them. They are not attractive to me physically, but your spirit....I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and magnificent.’ (Y/N) said holding Ivar’s face gently in her hands.

‘You are only saying that, and I appreciate it, but I assure you once we reach Tunisia you can pick any man you like to come back with us. To satisfy your needs that I never could.’ Ivar replied sadly as he tried to turn away.

‘No man, no matter if his skin was as black as war paint and his dreadlocks flowed down his back like rain, could ever have a spirit as great as you.’ she swore, keeping her hold firm on him, making him meet her eyes.

She tried to make her sincerity pour out of her brown eyes, so that her intended could be assured that he had no reason to feel insecure. She felt no disgust toward him and she had no desire to lay with any man other than the one she was to be married to.

Ivar did not look away this time, instead he just looked at her, searching for any of the signs that she was lying. Her eyes didn’t shift, her eyebrows didn’t twitch and her face didn’t tense up...she was telling the truth.

She really didn’t find him repulsive, and that was a reality that he was almost unprepared to accept.

‘May I undress you...my Love?’ she asked again.

‘Yes.’ he said so quietly that even he barely heard it.

She unlaced his trousers, slowly so that if Ivar truly wished for her to stop he could let her know. Despite how he was gripping tightly at the furs on his bed, he did not push her hands away and easily raised his hips so that she could pull them down.

Once the pants had been removed she stood and took in the sight before her, Ivar’s legs looked truly broken...practically tortured.

‘In Tunisia we have so much gold that if we really wanted we could boast being one of the wealthiest kingdoms in all of Africa, but we don’t. In all honesty...we don’t value it at this point, obviously we know everyone else does but do you know what we truly value?’ the princess asked as she kneeled before Ivar just as she had when she proposed the Matrimonial Fight.

‘We value this.’ she said running her fingers over one of the many scars over Ivar’s right leg.

‘Scars, we cherish them. They show what a person has been through; how they have lived and how hard they have fought to keep living. Some warriors wear scars to show how many kills they have made and how many battles they have fought. I believe the Great and Many Spirits gave you the scars in advance because you are destined to see many victories.’ the princess began.

‘We bleed our people, a scar will show their loyalty and their endurance. I was born into a royal bloodline, so other than minor scrapes from training I have had no scars...until these.’

(Y/N) ran her hand over the scar where he cut her chest when she had proposed the fight, then the one on her shoulder that claimed her as his bride to be.

‘These scars were given to me by you, do you know what that means Prince Ivar of Kattegat?’

Not trusting himself to speak without his voice shaking, Ivar shook his head.

‘It means that I am fated by the Spirits to endure you, no matter what you do I will be at your side. You can not scare me away Ivar, you can’t push me into the arms of another. You are mine to endure, just as I am yours...My Love.’

If her words weren’t enough to move him to tears then her leaning down to place a kiss on the scar she had been touching certainly was.

He tried to cover his quivering lip, but he couldn’t stop his sob from escaping his mouth.

(Y/N) moved to sit on the bed and wordlessly pulled Ivar into her arms, and without hesitation he accepted the affection.

He cried into her naked chest for what felt like an eternity but had really only been about thirty minutes, not that Ivar could be blamed for this; he had fallen asleep.

The princess carefully laid back and pulled the furs over the two of them, seeing as the fire was dwindling. 

As Ivar slept in her arms she thought of how she had found herself here; she had been so desperate for some peace and quiet. Between teaching Derja to so many people with different learning styles and your servants chattering about how excited they were to return home the princess needed a break.

So she devised a plan to get away; a simple plan that consisted of simply telling different people different things. Telling the servants to go to her chambers to sleep while she teaches the royal family and then telling the royals she was going to rest. Then she thought as to where she should go now that she was alone, at first she considered taking up one of the empty chambers but did not want to make unnecessary work for the slaves.

For a while she just silently moved around the long halls until she spotted Ivar’s thrall leaving a room carrying a basket of sheets. Assuming that the room was Ivar’s and the sheets had already been changed she snuck into the room while no one was in the hall.

Ivar’s room was very obviously his, and it even showed more of who he was than he probably realized.

Most of the furniture was placed very closely to the bed so that he wouldn’t have to crawl as much, unlike the other rooms where everything was spread out to fill the space. There was an almost infinite amount of scratches and dents in the wood works of the room as well as the furniture from years of Ivar throwing weapons around during his many anger spells.

The room was empty and full and beautifully scarred just like Ivar, in an odd way just being in this room put the princess’s mind at ease.

She knew that at some point Ivar would come back to his chamber and they would obviously address her being here, but she did not know that it would lead to this. Ivar sleeping in her arms, not that she minded at all.

In fact she soon joined Ivar in the land of peaceful slumber; in her dream she was chasing after a large beast through the fields of Tunisia to turn into the most magnificent fur for her husband, in his Ivar was fighting in a great battle, standing strong and whole and at his side he saw his princess fighting alongside of him.

Both of them would have been happy to stay in their dreams forever, but of course it was not meant to be.

Trya entered the room an hour before the sun was set to rise, just as she always did with her shield and a small pebble. And as usual she threw the pebble from the door toward the bed and held up the shield.

However, on this morning, there were more daggers thrown her way than normal.

Cautiously she lowered the shield to see her master was not alone in his bed, the African princess was also there.

Both royals were, as far as she could tell, undressed.

Trya...good morning.’ Ivar greeted as he sleepily stretched and yawned.

‘Good morning Prince Ivar, Princess (Y/N).’

‘Good morning, I hate to trouble you, but could you fetch my servants from my chambers and have them bring me a courtesy robe, so that I can leave you to your own morning chores.’ she requested politely as she covered herself with the furs.

‘Of course, right away your highness.’ Trya bowed before she left, leaving Ivar and the princess alone.

‘Well this will be our last day in Kattegat before we board the ship, there will be quite a feast tonight.’ Ivar said.

He had no intention of speaking on their emotional conversation last night, or the fact that they had just been in a very obviously compromising position.

‘I have been told, Leena and Kya are so excited that they get to help prepare a traditional African meal. I am more excited to go home and see my family, I’m sure they are worried, I was not meant to stay this long.’ (Y/N) said.

‘Really?’ he asked, to which the princess nodded.

‘When Sven proposed the marriage I agreed to only one week, if only to meet the man I might marry. It’s been a month, so I can’t imagine what my mother must think is keeping me here.’

‘I hope she doesn’t assume we are keeping you against your will.’ he said.

‘No one knows what the mind of a worried mother is capable of coming up with.’ the woman sighed.

The door opened and in walked the one of the Tunisian servants holding a white robe made of fine silk folded over her arm.

‘Princess, Ivar Prince.’ she greeted as best she could in Norse.

‘Prince Ivar.’ (Y/N) corrected as she got out of the bed.

This time Ivar didn’t look away, he had seen all of her last night, and it didn’t feel like he was doing anything wrong now. She had consciously let him see her full beauty last night, and she would also be his wife, there was no reason for him to feel guilty for looking at her.

However, none of that changed how breathtaking he found her to be.

The princess was dressed and politely left to get dressed for the first meal of the day, leaving Trya to dress Ivar.

As usual the room was silent as she helped him into his trousers but this morning the silence seemed pregnant.

‘You have something you wish to say Trya?’

‘No Prince Ivar...just that I am happy for you, in all my years serving you I have never seen you like this. So...happy.’ the thrall commented as she put on his boots.

Ivar thought about it and he realized that she was right. In the months since the Tunisians had arrived he had found himself generally in a good mood. He was no longer waking up to do nothing but crawl through the markets to watch the people live regular lives with working legs.

Now he had important things to do, he had a princess to make his wife and a boat to board; he had real duties.

‘Thank you Trya, I hope my good mood lasts while we are on the ship.’

Soon Ivar made his way to the high table, taking his time to look around and trying to memorize all the little things he never paid attention to. 

Tomorrow would be the last day he would see these things before he boarded the ship to go to Tunisia. From how everyone has been speaking of the feast that would be held tonight, he imagined he’d be far too drunk to pay much attention then.

‘Brother.’ Ubbe greeted as Ivar crawled into his seat.

Ivar grunted tiredly in response, taking notice that (Y/N) had not yet made it to the high table.

He also realized his mother was at the table quietly eating her meal without looking up at anyone, seeming as if she had no idea her entire family was even there.

It was the first time Ivar had seen his mother since he told her that no matter what he would be going on this journey.

Aslaug hadn’t really spoken to anyone really, not even just to fight with Ragnar; which was truly odd. Her silence was clearly her way of showing her disapproval of this entire journey, and it pained Ivar not to be speaking with her.

‘Mother, will you be joining us on the journey? I made accommodations for you.’ he said.

Of course he received no reply.

‘Her mood aside it is nice to see you and the princess are already getting along so well.’ Ragnar said.

Hvitserk and Sigurd snickered as they ate their meals.

‘What are you talking about?’ the youngest asked.

‘Don’t be shy brother, you two are to be wed, no one can blame you for not being able to wait. I doubt any of us could if we were so lucky.’ Ubbe said.

‘The thralls saw the princess leaving your room in a courtesy robe, good for you brother.’ he continued.

‘It has only just happened, how do you all know already?’ Ivar asked in pure confusion.

‘Forget all that, we want to hear about it.’ Hvitserk said eagerly.

‘Quickly before she gets here.’ Sigurd urged.

‘There is nothing to tell, we just slept. She wanted a moment alone so she went into my chamber, when I came in we spoke then fell asleep.’ he explained.

‘He is being truthful.’ the princess said as she entered the Great Hall with her usual party in tow and took her place.

‘Good morning princess, may I apologize for my sons' crudeness.’ Ragnar said.

‘No need King Ragnar, the one thing that spreads faster than illness is gossip. And they, as his brothers have the right to be curious.’ she smiled politely.

The princess looked to the queen and sighed, seeing there was no point in trying to have a pleasant exchange.

‘What will you all be doing today, checking over our luggage?’ Aslaug asked, surprising everyone.

‘Our luggage?’ Ivar asked.

‘That is what I said, I guess if my entire family insists on drowning we might as well do it together. So that I can be smug when we all arrive in Valhalla.’ she said snidely.

Ragnar rolled his eyes at his wife's dramatics.

‘I see must apologize again for my family.’ he sighed.

‘And again there is no need, she has every right to be upset, in all honesty I imagine my own mother will be far worse to deal with and I will be doing a lot of apologizing in Tunisia.’ she said.

‘And there will be no need.’ Ragnar lightheartedly mocked the princess's voice.

From anyone else (Y/N) was sure she’d be offended, but something about King Ragnar was oddly charming.

‘Why don’t you all go enjoy your last day in Kattegat. Say your goodbyes.’ Ragnar suggested.

‘Yes, go through the markets and see how many gifts you will get this time princess.’ Sigurd said.

‘Ah! Speaking of gifts, I have something for Ivar, the blacksmith gave it to me for you. He said he wanted to give it to you after the fight but it wasn’t ready.’ (Y/N) said before wordlessly looking over to one of her servants.

The girl nodded and left to retrieve the gift and while they all waited for her to return they gave their guesses for what they thought the gift was.

More than likely it was probably a set of daggers or some new welding tools that he was thinking about.

At last the servant came back but she certainly wasn’t holding daggers or tools.

‘What is this?’ Ivar asked as she approached him.

‘Crutches, he said he had been working on the design for a long time, and he wanted to give it to you as an engagement present.’ the princess said as Ivar was handed his new gift.

Ivar looked over the craftsmanship and sure enough he could tell that a great deal of effort had been put into each one. 

They were made of bronze, with oak wood handles that had very finely sanded as to not cause splinters and at the bottom there were sharp spikes that he assumed were meant to root into the dirt, but he also figured if he needed to he could use them as a weapon.

‘Amazing.’ he said as he inspected them.

‘Try them out Ivar.’ Aslaug smiled.

The first smile anyone has seen on her face since the Matrimonial Fight, it seemed no amount of her anger could compare to her love for Ivar.

Ivar pushed his seat away from the table before firmly planting the first crutch, making sure the spike was stabbed into the wooden floor before doing the same with the second crutch.

Once he was fairly certain that the crutches wouldn’t slide he began to pull himself up.

This was the closest to standing he had ever been in his entire life, he was obviously not at his full height but he had never stood this high before.

‘Do they feel alright Ivar?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Excellent brother.’ Ivar answered excitedly.

‘Try walking.’ Sigurd said, an underline of malice in his voice.

‘Sigurd.’ Aslaug said in warning, sending her third son a look only a mother was capable of making.

‘No, he is right, crutches are made to help men walk, not just stand around like trees.’ Ivar said, returning his brother’s look.

Ivar straightened up his position a bit more and very cautiously moved the right crutch a few inches in front of him before he used the strength of his arms to pull his top half forward; his legs dragging behind him.

He looked very focused as he did this a few more times until he seemed to get the hang of it, he stood a bit taller as he moved about the room, smiling with an almost childlike glee.

‘I take it you are pleased with this gift Ivar.’ the princess asked.

‘Of course I am, this is the first time I’ve ever seen things from this height, I didn’t even know I was this tall.’ he replied happily.

‘Still the shortest out of us.’ Hvitserk teased in good fun.

‘And you’re still the dumbest.’ Ivar returned in kind as he moved back to his seat and sat down.

‘Never mind all of this, tonight will be our last night in Kattegat before we all board the ship and sail off to Tunisia.’ Ragnar said.

The princess noticed a small, barely there, look of distaste in his eyes as he looked at the crutches at Ivar’s side.

‘It is and I would like to at last spend some time with my fiance.’ Ivar said smiling at (Y/N).

‘Why not spend the day with your beloved brothers?’ Ubbe joked.

‘I see you all too much for my liking, besides, she is better looking.’ 

The rest of the meal was full of joyful banter between Ivar and his brothers, every so often the princess would join in. Overall everyone, with the exception of Queen Aslaug, was in good spirits and anxiously waiting for the feast.

Eventually everyone began to go their own ways; the queen leaving wordlessly as Ubbe and Hvitserk began to speak of all the women they planned to see. 

Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd left to see who could bed the most women before morning, leaving Ivar, the princess and Ragnar at the table.

‘Well now that we have a bit of peace, what do you actually have planned for today?’ the king asked.

‘I want to take her to meet Floki, it has already been too long since I’ve seen him. Between my engagement and his preparing to set sail with Bjorn we haven’t had the time to visit.’ Ivar answered as he grabbed his crutches and pulled himself up.

Again (Y/N) noticed a look of distaste come over Ragnar’s face as he looked at Ivar stabling himself; and again she decided not to say anything.

‘Come Princess, let us start our last Viking outing.’ the prince invited.

(Y/N) stood and her servants bid her farewell before heading to the kitchens to prepare tonight’s feasts, and Bintu went to follow behind her princess when she was stopped.

‘Bintu, it is our last day in this country before we return home, don’t you want to spend it doing something you enjoy?’ the princess asked.

‘I enjoy keeping you safe.’

‘I can think of another person you’d rather spend your time with.’

Bintu was visibly flustered as she looked around for a second to see if anyone else had heard (Y/N)’s teases.

‘Hush now, there is nothing else for me to do...with anyone.’ she said quickly, hoping no one would be able to translate it fully.

‘Then go on and enjoy a day of peace alone, see what else this country has to enjoy...I want you to have fun today.’

Bintu looked ready to argue some more but her princess would not let her.

‘I’m just going to keep teasing until you go, and you know it.’

‘All these years later and you still exhaust me just as you did as a child.’ she sighed in defeat as she left.

‘What did you say to her?’ Ivar asked.

‘Nothing she wasn’t hoping I’d say; trust me she will be enjoying her day with a mutual friend of ours.’ (Y/N) smiled.

‘Sven.’ Ivar and Ragnar grinned.

It was true that despite Bintu’s determination to keep her activities with the old man a secret Sven was proudly boasting their affairs to anyone who would listen.

‘Go on now you two, I will busy myself elsewhere. Ivar, be sure to send Floki and Helga my love.’ Ragnar said.

Finally Ivar and (Y/N) made their way out onto the markets and they were met with an almost immediate silence.

It would seem everyone was in shock to see Ivar’s face without having to lower their heads.

‘Come this way, to the stables.’ Ivar said, trying to ignore all the attention on him as he led the princess through the separating crowd.

‘Why must we go there?’

‘Floki doesn’t live in Kattegat, even if my legs worked it would still take days to get there on foot.’ 

‘Is your friend a recluse?’

‘Of course not, he is just…’ Ivar paused to find a word to describe the man that helped raise him.

‘He is just Floki, there is really no other way to describe that old man. He prefers to be in the company of the Gods over other humans, you will know when you meet him and meeting him is something no one ever forgets.’ he settles.

The princess hummed in response.

‘I believe I have heard of the name Floki...is he a man of power?’

‘Floki seeks no point in power, he feels he hasn’t the mind for it. In his eyes the Gods made him to follow; to follow their will and the men they favored.’

‘If not a man of power who is he? Who is he to your people and to you.’

Ivar laughed as the two of them reached the stable and he gave a boy direction to set up a cart to carry them to Floki’s estate.

‘Floki helped to raise me...whenever my parents fought which as you’ve seen to be often, mother would take me to Floki because she didn’t want me to be as my father.’

‘Why? King Ragnar seems to be a very good man.’

‘He is; the greatest and most famous man in our country, but he is not a conventional Viking. He has questioned and even denied his own belief in the Gods, befriended and protected Christians. Even now under his tunic he bears the cross of a Priest named Athelstan, the first Chritian he’d ever spoken to.’ Ivar explained. 

The princess took a minute to process this information as she and Ivar were helped into the cart.

‘This tells me who he is to you, but it doesn’t tell me who this man is to your people.’

‘Floki is our boat builder, his ship took Ragnar to England for the very first time, every man who calls himself a builder has consulted with Floki. His craftsmanship is only second to the dwarves. The Gods gave him the ability to pick the best trees and the foresight to know exactly how to build a boat that could cut through water like a knife though fresh bread.’ he answered.

‘So he is the man who created those ships, I must say I’m excited to meet him. My people… we see many visitors and wanderers; and a great many just jump on ships to far away places, but we have no way to travel independently. The boats we will receive in this alliance could change our way of living.’ (Y/N) said.

‘And the gold we will receive from your country will help us fund raids and wars that have long been fated.’

As they spoke the cart carried them out of Kattegat and the princess looked at this new scenery in wonder. There were so many trees here, and the earth was so moist compared to the almost desert-like village she lived in.

‘I wish we had known about the abundance of trees you had here, I imagine we will be trading some of our gold for wood.’ she said absentmindedly.

‘Do you not have trees in your country?’ Ivar asked in mild disbelief.

‘Of course we do, just not many, not enough to build anything.’ 

At last the cart stopped and the thrall helped them get off safely, making sure not to be too rough while sitting down the most feared prince in all of Kattegat.

‘Thank you for delivering us safely, take this as a token of my grace. Please be sure that the horse is rested while we visit.’ the princess said as she handed the thrall a golden ring from her finger.

‘Princess I can not possibly-’

‘Take it, you won’t find too many charitable royals boy.’ 

With swift reflexes Princess (Y/N) threw her dagger at the sudden voice that came from behind her.

The dagger landed at the feet of an old man; he stood more than six foot but was lightly leaning against an even taller walking stick. his eyes were lined with charcoal and his bald had was covered in faded tattoos.

His very presence made the princess feel as if she, a royal princess of a rich kingdom, was no more than a child hiding behind the huts of Tunisia once more.

‘Whew! I see this one does not take kindly to surprises.’ the man chuckled madly.

‘You can't fault her for defending herself, you are quite a horrid sight to a young woman.’ Ivar said with a glare.

‘That may be true, how many daggers has she thrown at your crippled arse?’ the old man snapped back in response.

(Y/N)’s eyes were nearly out of her head, she had never heard Ivar speak so rudely to anyone, nor had anyone ever been so disrespectful to a royal in her presence. 

Before she could voice her dissatisfaction Ivar and the old man began to laugh wildly.

The old man threw aside his stick and moved towards Ivar and wrapped his arms around him.

‘Floki!’ Ivar said cheerfully.

‘Ivar the Boneless.’ the man smiled as he let go of the prince.

‘I want you to meet someone very special, Floki; this is (Y/N) Princess of Tunisia. She is to be my wife.’ Ivar said proudly.

‘I know who she is, some gossip of Kattegat can still reach this old boat builder’s ears. I hear she gave you one hel of fight.’ Floki said.

‘She did, but I would be disappointed if she hadn’t, I wanted her to meet you before we depart for Africa.’

‘I’m glad for it Ivar, let me get a better look at her.’ 

The old man placed his hands on her shoulders and held her in place and just looked down at her.

Floki really was a very tall man, even though she could tell he was slouching and not at full height he was still stood almost a head over her.

His eyes were lined thickly with coal, but nothing could hide the age on the man’s face, it was obvious to the princess that this man had lived a hard life and known much loss and great sadness.

‘I can see she has the same sight as me… she is reading me just as I’m reading her. What do you see princesses?’ he asked.

‘I see that you wear coal on your eyes to hide the sadness in them, your scalp is tattooed, something that I’m sure pained you, but it was far from your truest pain. You are old, and a great many heartbreaks can be gained in a long life lived hard.’ she answered.

Floki smiled and closed his eyes as he let out a sigh.

‘What do you see in me, Floki?’ the princess asked in return.

‘I see that you have been raised to keep face in front of people, but you are more than a princess; you thirst for blood. You want to fight on the battlefield for glory, but you have never seen it. You are naive to how horrid it is and you know it...but still you want it.’ Floki guessed.

She was shocked to have what she considered to be her deepest desire exposed by a stranger.

‘I do, but if the spirits are kind to my people I will never see the reality of war.’ she said once she regained her composure.

‘She will either be the best thing that happened to you Ivar, or she will be the end of everything. Only time will tell which one.’ he said gravely as he looked between the young royals.

A pregnant silence filled the atmosphere and for a moment neither Ivar or (Y/N) knew what to say, thankfully Floki laughed.

‘Come on, Helga is going to want to send you off to another country ten pounds heavier.’ the man said as he dragged Ivar off toward the small house.

(Y/N) picked up Ivar’s crutches and Floki’s walking stick before she followed behind the two Norsemen and thought to herself that Ivar was right.

She would never forget meeting this man.

[owlsbride]

Icha Icha and Prejudice: The book Club

Chapter VIII: Of Anxiety and Tension

Sakura had had the hardest night of her life. Not even at the hospital, she had ever felt that way. At work, during an examination, a healing session or a surgery, she always felt confident, safe, accurate and with a firm hand. Sakura trusted herself when things get complicated, her resolution always took her forward, and she was not one to fail.

But last night? Last night was something else at all. She was feeling nervous, anxious, flustered and bothered. Of course, Sakura knew who to blame: Hatake Kakashi.

After the dinner with Kakashi, the little encounter they had, in which Sakura agreed with her inner self that that wasn't a fight; the new pet name issue, the promise of a message as soon as he arrived at the sand village, and reading Icha Icha, she was without rest or sleep.

Sakura was angry, yes, but at the same time, since she got out from the shower and took that damned book in her hands, the feeling changed into something much more distant than anger. Instead, a sense of constant discomfort was forming in the depths of her being. The famous butterflies in the stomach, a fire building in her lower belly. Something aching going up from the inside of her thighs to her hips. She was very conscious of what was happening to her. Hormones.

Sakura had had her hormones in check until not long ago. They were asleep, and it could be said that she, despite being a completely healthy young woman, who had no fear of sex, had been able to control her impulses efficiently and strictly. No, it wasn't that Sakura didn't like having sex, in fact, she liked it a lot, but what she didn't like in the least was the previous ritual. What bothered Sakura was strutting like an animal in heat, looking for the alpha male with whom she could mate and thus fulfil the cycle.

She had had tones of discussions about it with Ino who was already in a serious relationship, so she didn't need going out hunting for her preys anymore. It had been different in the past though, while the blonde was single, she didn't miss the opportunity to go out every night that she had free to have fun, dance, drink and why not look for auspicious lovers to spend the night with until the right man appeared. Sakura followed her on all her adventures but never ended up in anyone's bed. Sakura got bored with the game before she even started it. She never judged her friend, how would she? Ino was doing precisely what a young woman should do, as any men would. But the discussions they both shared were all about Sakura's choices: if she didn't venture into the night, to experiment a fleeting romance or an excellent laid, how was she going to find the one who could be the man of her life? Ino knew that Sakura was looking for him deep down, but she had given up.

But right now, everything was different. Even if Sakura was still reluctant to look for a mate, she knew that she wanted somebody and that somebody was Kakashi. For a time now, she had realised that she was lost for him, even if she didn't acknowledge the feeling to herself or her inner self, for that matter.

She was well aware that something was going on between them even if they keep silent about it. They were close friends, they worked together, and they both had grown up, like really grown up. She wasn't a teenager anymore, and he wasn't in his twenties either. Sakura had often made numbers to analyse the gap age between them and told to be true it wasn't that much. She also studied her past and childhood to observe how their relationship's evolution was and when all of this started. She arrived at a sad and relieving conclusion at the same time: although Kakashi had been her sensei for a while, and had always taken care of her, neither of them had really paid much attention to each other. Kakashi was more interested in Naruto and Sasuke's training and so was she, in a way. She had never had a crush on Kakashi before, and neither did he. It all started a few years ago after Sakura's promotion in the hospital and her big failure with Sasuke when she said no to marriage while this one, too relieved for her liking, disappeared from the village. It was then that Sakura and Kakashi began working together, as Hokage and co-hospital director, sharing late meals, discussing plans and talking about this and that, and smiling at each other teasingly just for the like of the thrill. So yes, their relationship had turned into  this  (and Sakura didn't know what  this  was) right after they both became significant and complete adults.

Sakura Knew she wanted Kakashi even if anything physical or tangible happened between them. Even if this flirting game ended sooner or later, she knew he was going to still be in her life. After all, he was a reliable person, and she trusted him with her life.

'When are you going to stop justifying yourself, Sakura?'  

Her inner voice was right, she was trying to find a justification to what happened yesterday night. She hadn't been able to sleep at all, at least not how she would wish to.

The book was starting to become really explicit, and the story was good enough, now she would understand Kakashi a bit more. A romance novel, with deep feelings, third parties in discord, complex stories, characters with good personal backgrounds, and an incredible number of scenes loaded with eroticism and sensuality that did not come to fruition. A tension that increased page by page, generating a feeling of anxiety that only asked for a bit of release, but that seemed to never reach. Jiraiya knew how to heat things up and prepare the groundwork.

That night, the second one on her long vacations, she found herself wondering if Kakashi knew how to heat things up too. If he could touch a woman and just with an innocent feather touch make her tremble asking for relieve. And just like that, Sakura also found herself being jealous. No, in her thoughts Kakashi shouldn't touch just a random woman, he should touch her. and suddenly, the characters in the book weren't only characters, they were both of them. Kakashi and Sakura in the rain, under the shade of a tree, in a lake or in a bed: kissing, touching, moaning. Sakura punished herself for these thoughts and putting Icha Icha aside, she tried to sleep.

The morning found her in her bed, still half wrapped in the towel, without dressing and having had light dreams that did not ensure any rest. The images of her and the Hokage did not stop plaguing her mind for an instant.

Sakura took another shower, she felt dirty after thinking about Kakashi in that way. She felt dirty, even if she didn't do anything about it. Satisfying herself was out of the question, not only it could be useless, but it could be dangerously encouraging to look for something else, and that was never going to happen.

'Silly girl.' Inner Sakura had repeated her more than once.

She checked her phone, no message from the Hokage, she could only wish for him to arrive safe and sound and that everything was going on okay at Suna. She also called Ino for lunch, of course, the blonde said yes, she always had time for Sakura, more now that the pinked haired girl was having some free days.

They talked for hours, even if sometimes Sakura got lost in her own thoughts losing track of the conversation. Ino knew that something was wrong with her friend: the edgy looks, the eventual 'hmm' as answered, the red chicks when something related to sex was mentioned. But she knew Sakura, and better than push was letting her be, sooner or later, she would come to her to talk or ask for advice. That had been their modus operandi forever, and Ino knew how things worked. Everything in good time, especially with the stubborn  Forehead .

After lunch Sakura wasn't ready to go back home, the sun was starting to set, and the time was fantastic. She rechecked her phone and still nothing. Why didn't he texted her? It is said that not news good news but the feeling of anxiety and discomfort had returned to Sakura as soon as Ino had left her alone again. Sakura needed to release her tensions, she had to do something, and in her life, that was training. She had to thanked the heavens that this morning she got dressed as so many years ago. She had bandaged her chest, and on top, she had put on her sports bra, her eternal red jacket and the black shorts with the skirt and as if she had known his destiny before his time she headed towards the training grounds. She was surprised when she found Naruto there, both of them with the same idea. Was he running from something too?

"Hey Sakura-Chan" Naruto greeted her with his cheery voice as if time had never passed. "What are you doing here?"

"Naruto, hi" she internally thanked the familiar face, "I thought to train a little. I did not expect to see you. What are you doing here?" Sakura said, smiling.

"Hinata," Naruto said, lowering his eyes hiding his hand behind his neck. "She doesn't stop scolding me about Suna" he finished.

"What a mess you made there Naruto, you don't grow any more," Sakura said, crossing her arms, tapping her feet against the ground.

"Ahhh, Sakura Chan not you too" Naruto was too embarrassed to look into her eyes. "Kakashi sensei is there now right?" Just hearing her name made Sakura's hair stand on end.

"Yes, I think so. Why?" She played dumb.

"You two became very close" Naruto started thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't say that much" Sakura was perspiring.

"Do you think you could convince him not to be so hard on me?" Naruto had his eyes so blue and pleading like years ago when he was a child.

"I don't see how I could help you" Sakura started to change the subject "Do you think we could spar a little you and me?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Naruto, I can't just be a doctor who doesn't move a finger."

"Okay" Now he smiled, and when he did, the sun seemed to shine brighter "But don't be too hard on me Sakura Chan."

Sakura was tough, and Naruto hadn't lagged behind in the slightest. Neither of them had lost the training timing they had had in the past, and the final fatigue was reflected in both of them, now lying on the sand of the field looking at the stars and laughing together. Sakura was happiest with Naruto in her life. He was like the brother she didn't have, and no matter how much he made her angry, Naruto always made her day infinitely better. Sakura felt immensely better, at least part of the tensions suffered during the last night and the day, had disappeared after the hard training. She was so tired that she was ready to go back home, showered and go to sleep. Yeah, definitely everything was better thanks to exercising.

Sakura arrived home, late enough like to not do anything. Her muscles were so sore that she only wanted to relax them with the hot water and an incredible amount of bubbles. But her phone buzzed seconds before she reached the bathroom, and she could no longer pay any attention to it.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

22:40: H.Kakashi: Are you there? I'm so so so sorry...

22:40: H.Kakashi: Sakura this have been madness

Finally, he had the decency of texting her.

'Maybe he was busy.'  Inner Sakura always playing for his side. That made Sakura even madder. She was not going to answer.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

22:41: H.Kakashi: You were right Sakura, I should have brought you with me. The heat is killing me, my head is killing me, everything is killing me

22:41:H.Kakashi: Okay... Let's talk later.

'Well..That's something entirely different'  Inner Sakura said, and Sakura huffed her hair showing her discomfort.

Sakura wasn't going to answer right away, somehow she felt that she didn't have to be so much available all the time. Okay, he was recognising his mistake now, but too late, sir, too late. If Kakashi wanted a response, he would have to wait like she had done the whole day. So, just like that, she went to her kitchen, took a bottle of cold water, and after fifteen long minutes, she texted him back.

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Kakashi woke up with his phone buzzing in his hand. He didn't remember falling asleep, but at some point, while waiting for Sakura's answer, it had happened. It had been a long time since he had such a deep sleep and it had barely lasted, according to the clock on the nightstand, only fifteen minutes. Almost like an automaton, he put the mask back on his face and looked around. There were no noises from the next room, Shikamaru had never returned. With his eyes still narrowed, he looked at his cell phone and laid his head back on the pillow. Should he answer now or tomorrow? Anyway, he read the message and smiled despite himself.

23:05:H.Sakura: Told you so, sensei .

Notes: Hello There? So chapter 8. A few things I like to say, 1-In the last chapter, after having a shower Kakashi went to bed without rearranging his mask but with underwear on. I guess that's because, he was tired to put the mask as he should, and the dressing thing, is because I believe he is the kind of man that thinks is better to have clothes on than nothing at all, is like saying 'Hey I'm sexier with my boxers on" Why I believed that? I have no idea, nobody asked me either, but I just wanted to tell you how I picture his personality, what do you think? About this chapter: 2- Sakura is still discovering her sexuality as an adult, so far, Icha Icha is better for her than Pride and Prejudice for Kakashi, apparently. 3- I mentioned that Kakashi used to be in his twenties, because actually in the past he was, and now looking back, maybe because of my experience, 20 something is actually not that much to be a full adult, I had made so many stupid things at that age. 4-Ino is so great! I kinda love friends like her, and she will know everything eventually, she is no fool and knows her friend perfectly. 5-Naruto... well I think Naruto is pretty innocent yet, but he is a good friend. With all that said, Please..... You know what to do! is not that much, I would be happy even with only an emoji. Seriously, I would love the feedback.

[aroarolibrary]

Oh man so, first off: congrats to angel/dean shippers on getting your canon thing in spanish but secondly:

Man this whole thing that’s been happening with this show over the last few weeks has 100% reminded me that this show and Sherlock were the two fandoms that made be super romance repulsed because of all the internalized self-hate and trauma they caused me. Like. I was romance repulsed before but those fandoms?? Jacked it up to 100% for years in which I couldn’t interact with any romantic stories or fandoms at all.

Story time!!!

Tw for: self harm, self hatred, hypersexuality, mental health issues, child neglect.

So imagine you are me: a young person who has just graduated high school and, very suddently, went from being “single mother of your little sister” who you had essentially raised on your own for the last four years when she was 5 to 9 yo to “every day college kid that sees their sibling that they raised for the last four years maybe once a month.

Also imagine that, out of all of your high school friends, none of them are attending the same university as you and so. Well.

You’re feeling pretty lonely and depressed.

Now also imagine: you didn’t really have a chance to consume media I HS because: parent. In fact 90% of what you watched was kids cartoons for your sibling +bonus Inuyasha at 3am as a...Uh....treat.....(that’s the kind way of saying ‘setting an alarm at 3am to check to make sure the parents actually got home from wherever TF they vanished to nearly every night).

But hey! You are free now and can watch/read what you want between classes! Only, well, where to start? You go to a book store and find a Sherlock Holmes book and think “okay ya I’ve always wanted to read these!” And proceed to consume them in one week flat.

They are amazing. The relationship between Sherlock and John reminds you of your and one of your best friends/honorary cousins that you haven’t seen in a while and it brings you comfort to read, but now you are out of stories so, you do what any person this day in ages does: you find fanfiction. Now, Sherlock wasn’t a thing at this point and so nearly all the fanfics were based on the books and, of those, 80-85% you gen. No romance at all. Just relaxing stories about friends and solving mysteries.

Then Sherlock happens and, don’t get me wrong, I was definitely a fan when the show started, but suddenly fanfiction was no longer mostly gen, it was shifting, becoming more and more shipping and romance related and it became harder and harder to find non-romantic stories.

Then a person I was living with suggested supernatural. “It’s a story about brothers and it focuses on them.” They said “very little romance. You would probably like it.”

And so I watched it and, they were right, I did. And ya, that one wasn’t exactly like the early Sherlock Holmes fandom, it had a lot of shipping from the get go, but I could also really easily find gen fics that focused on siblings and familial relationships and ignore the rest since there was a pretty even 50/50 split with a slight favor on the gen side.

(Keep in mind there is a LOT of other irl trauma going on in the BG of this story which I know I’ve talked about before. A lot of which is also feeding into the romance repulsion and my avoidance of romance in fandom spaces along with my “blossoming” hypersexuality)

Anyway, the familial relationship in spn was a comfort. At the point I moved from Sherlock to SPN I was in my second year on university and was doing a bit better mentally (in the “sadness” front at least) but I was still missing seeing my sister a lot and so SPN was a comfort in that sense. It was something to relax with that didn’t have romance or anything of the sort that, at that point, was only driving me further and further into hypersexuality (I was dating my first ‘official’ partner at that point and, while I can recognize it now looking back, romance in shows and movies made me feel inadequate as a partner. Like I was failing and not doing enough. Was not romantic enough. Was not showing affection enough. But physically I also couldn’t bring myself to do those things either. What I could do was sex. And, well, when that’s all you have to offer...)

ANYWAY: spn was the one show I knew of on TV that was low to no romance and that the fandom was also decently low on romance, instead focusing mostly on family and the brothers.

Cut forward a few years, I’m back into a depression, I’ve failed at a relationship again because all I can offer is sex and that’s really not enough for people that are looking for actual romance and:

And supernatural introduces an angel character to the show. It’s interesting but I’m pretty depressed and not really all that interested in the show anyway at this point-

But then the fandom happens and it’s like a flood. The romance pours in from all corners along with the absolute hate for anyone that doesn’t see anything romantic happening. It’s like watching a wild fire go through a fandom, what was once a fandom that mostly was just about siblings all of a sudden became all about this angel character and Dean. So much so that it over shadowed everything and any attempt to just enjoy the show as a gen thing or as a family-centric show became impossible.

It was also around this point that a lot of...idk what to call it really because it wasn’t exactly hate, it was like a “this is the only way to read/be in this fandom and if you aren’t we are going to harass you non-stop until you see things our way”. If you couldn’t see the romance between these two characters it was because you were homophobic. If you preferred gen it was because you were homophobic. If you focused on just the brothers and their relationship it was because you were homophobic. If you couldn’t see that Dean was better off in a romantic relationship then with his brother who he had an ‘unhealthy’ relationship with then you were homophobic.

(Keep in mind at this point I was out as bisexual and had attempted to date a woman at this point. I say attempted because, well, again: aromantic even if I didn’t know it then)

It was intense and, from the POV of an aromantic person struggling with being unable to understand even basic romance: it was traumatizing.

I tried to see it, to understand what these shippers were seeing that I couldn’t. Yes, I could see how Sam and Dean’s relationship could be viewed as unhealthy, but as someone who had lived a similar life to theirs as a kid, and to suddenly be bombarded with this idea that the “healthy” way to cope with that is a “romantic relationship” it was a lot. And by a lot I mean a death spiral.

There was...a lot of one night stands and sex and half-attempted relationships after that, in that desperate attempt to understand. There was also panic, nausea, fear that my own relationship with my sister was unhealthy. Was causing both of us harm. That the only way I could keep from hurting her further was to find a “healthy” romantic relationship instead because siblings aren’t meant to be close, not even those where one raised the other alone for years on end.

I had no context outside of fandom about what a healthy sibling relationship looked like and, hell, most TV shows at the time painted sibling relationships as antagonist 90% of the time and with them only interacting when necessary. My parents both had siblings but my dad talked to his maybe once a month and my mom faught with Hers a lot. I had never faught with my sister. We got along perfectly, mostly because from the ages on 13 - 18 I lived for her alone and so I was used to putting her first no matter what.

But this fandom, that had been a comfort for me for a while, suddenly said that was wrong. That instead romance was the way to go and I...

Well. I am conscious of myself enough now to know that I was purposely hurting myself. A lot. Punishing myself over and over and over again, not just because I couldn’t figure out how to “feel” romance like I was supposed to do but also because I was a terrible sibling. Because I had failed my sister some how and had ended up in an “unhealthy codependent” relationship with her since, if Sam and Dean’s relationship was like that according to fans, then obviously so was ours.

(God and don’t get me started on the spiral that the new Inuyasha Sequel put me into a few months ago. I’m STILL not out of that spiral yet. These last few months have not been good for the “romance isn’t important/is unnecessary” front)

I would like to say that I soon realized how terrible the fandom was for my mental health and that it was causing me to harm myself but that isn’t how this story ends. How it ends is that I Eventually I ended up not being able to watch SPN any more. Every episode was just another dagger in my side. Another failure to press my face into. Another series of interactions where I couldn’t see. Couldn’t understand. Another episode that would let to another desperate one night stand/attempt at understanding how this was better. Healthier. How this was how things were supposed to be. Another night of not talking to my family or friend and another few days of not talking to my sister because talking to her too much was wrong.

So ya. This story doesn’t end nicely. It just slowly fades to black. To a point where I hate myself so much that I can’t bring myself to interact with the fandom or internet at all. Where everything just kind of...goes away and vanished but where the trauma still exists. Where stories that start out about family and, suddenly, introduce love interests leave me nauseous and choked. Where my romance repulsion gets so strong that I can’t sleep because I just keep remembering my failures. The fact that it’s not healthy to focus or care about your family. That there must be romance. There must There must there must. Because with out it all other relationships are bad/wrong/unhealthy and you are bad/wrong/unhealthy for only having those.

Just the endless mantra. All night long.

Bad.

Wrong.

Unhealthy.

Bad.

Wrong.

Unhealthy.

Bad

Wrong.

Unhealthy.

Over and over and over again.

[sabineelectricheart]

The Only Absolute Truth About Love

Summary: Sylvain felt blessed when he came to find out the only absolute truth about love. It was a heavenly punishment, rather than a gift.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 2100

Notes: I really wonder what my dearest readers think about the choices made on this fic. Do leave a comment, I’m a little slow (in time and in rational thought), but I really do appreciate it.

In all of his too many years of existence, forged through pain, war and loneliness, Sylvain, the heir to the great Gautier name, felt blessed when he came to find out the only absolute truth about love.

It was a heavenly punishment, rather than a gift.

The feeling of love immediately and inescapably equates to regret. All lovers eventually come to regret their folly, and it is a catch-28, as one often regrets not only in loving a person, but also in not being able or brave enough to actually express it.

It was a silly feeling, really, a feeling Sylvain would never admit to having even if had left him unable to sleep at night. Not the real kind of love, the one every man and woman he ever came across said he had never felt, instead of the courtly love he professed for every slightly striking beauty in the continent.

The redhead has no time for it, he tried to convince himself repeatedly, as life was much too short to care for monogamy, as people were inherently flawed and prone to hurt one another, as no one would ever care for him other than the blood that runs through his veins. However, the painful and suffocating clench he felt in his heart at the sight of his beloved in another man’s arms often gave pause to those thoughts.

He, then, wonders if he should have shed those fatalist convictions aside, if he should have taken a chance on them. He should have said something, anything, but whenever he opened his mouth, nothing good ever escaped. Only jokes, flirts and unfair comparisons.

The young lord swears on the Blue Sea Star that he wanted to become better, to pull himself together. He vowed it on the Goddess Tower, after all, and those promises are not to be forsaken. He thought he had time, he thought she would wait, but it turns out he was wrong.

He never meant for it to go this far, for him to catch feelings for his professor after Moons of shameless flirting. As far as he had noticed, the young woman was quite contented in the relationship they had, with the constant naughty whispers exchanged in public just to make the other feel flustered, to calling each other ‘dear’ just to tease.

Sylvain never knew she wanted more. If he had, he would have provided for whatever she could need. If he had only asked, he would have been hers. He should have asked either way, because anything was better than this, being forced to haunt empty rooms and hallways, hoping to sneak a glance or a moment of her time.

This was a particularly pleasant night, the Great Tree Moon shone full above the monastery, as Byleth walked through the hollowed passages between the academy and her new apartments amongst the faculty.

A soft smile was playing on her lips at the delight she felt after returning to the classroom, after so much tragedy of war. Pedagogy was the first and only thing she really found herself in, and she was glad for the sentiment of normalcy settling over Garreg Mach, as a new batch of students came along from all three corners of Fódlan.

Alas, regardless of her personal feelings about her chosen profession, it was still hard work, and the former mercenary wanted nothing more than a spot of relaxing tea and the close, warm embrace of her soft bed.

She turned into another hallway, a tapping sound echoing in the emptiness with each step she took on her leather boots, when a hand suddenly gripped her forearm, tugging her into an empty classroom. She tried to steady herself, scowling as she heard the door slam behind her. Instinctively, her hand snatched her dagger from her robes, pointing it towards the perpetrator before she could even see them.

To the woman’s great surprise, he who stood in front of her was Sylvain Gautier, a solemn expression on his moonlit face as he watched her. She felt her lips fall into a frown, unimpressed that the person she considered one of her closest friends before he forcefully distanced himself had decided to pull this kind of stunt now.

“I swear to you that if this is some kind of sick joke, Gautier…” She snapped impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest and leaving the threat hanging between them. They both knew who was stronger between them.

“It’s not!” He rushed out, approaching her, only for her to step back again. “I just...”

“I do not have all night, you know.” Her eyes burned into his, annoyance bubbling into her stomach the longer it took for him to say something. “Sylvain, I…”

“Leave him.” He blurted out before she could even utter another word.

Byleth scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“Aegir.” Sylvain amended his statement, becoming clear about whom and what he wanted to converse, his amber eyes looking back at the woman almost pleadingly. “Leave him.”

The professor released a cold laugh, disbelief running through her system at how stupid his request was. She was tired, to say the least, not enough energy running through her system to engage in an argument, so she turned to leave.

His strong, calloused hand grasped her arm again, keeping her in place, only for her to pull it back as if his touch had stung her.

“Please, Byleth.” He uncharacteristically pleaded with her. “I just want to talk to you.”

“There was a time I wanted to talk to you, too, Sylvain. Six Moons ago, to be more precise.” She sneered at him, eyes still glaring. “However, you were so adamant on ignoring my letters and visits, so I decided to let it go. I ought to you the same curtesy.”

“I never wanted any of this to happen!”

“When you say ‘this’, do you mean giving me in the healthy, committed relationship you could never bother to provide?” Her deceivingly soft hands made their way to her slender hips, to punctuate her dissatisfaction. “Let us be completely candid, Sylvain. Should you have not seen me with Ferdinand, should you have not heard of our engagement, you would not have bothered with me and whomever I choose to spend my time with.”

“Certainly not, I…!” He tried to interject.

“I find it so very convenient for you to admit that when I am in a loving relationship, no?” Byleth bit back sarcastically, cutting him off. “Are you unable, in some capacity, to stomach the fact that you cannot have everything you want? You cannot have me and all other womankind, and I would bet you merely want me to return to the position of your lover, if not just so anyone else cannot play what was once yours.”

It was absolutely jarring for them both to witness the usually stoic, soft-spoken Byleth to be so bitterly emotional, but the woman has held onto these frustrations and pains for much too long and it was time to let it out.

“Stop it, Byleth! You very well know it is not like that!” He growled, his features hardening as he tried to hold himself back.

“Then tell me what you want, Sylvain Gautier!” She exclaimed in anger.

“I want you!” He shouts, and then repeats with a softer voice. “I want you. I want to be with you and you alone.”

The professor turned silent once again at his confession, her harsh and judgemental glare softening at the words she would have liked to hear from him many Moons ago. Alas, things are different now. Now, she is in a relationship with Ferdinand von Aegir. Now, all the feelings she had for Sylvain were gone, replaced by anger and betrayal over the fact that he had led her on, only to force himself into her life when he realized she had gotten over him.

“You are so selfish.” Was all she thought to say. “I am tired, Sylvain. I am tired of loss and loneliness and fighting, and I was only more alone whenever I was in your company. You made me feel like I was worth nothing to you, and now you come forcing yourself back into my life as if you are completely blameless in the whole situation? I wasted so much time on you, Sylvain…”

“And I understand I am not worth it.”

“No, you were not.” She breathed out. “But it was freely given. Not anymore, though.”

Their eyes met again, his still pleading ones meeting the exhausted ones of hers. She has been wanting to talk about this for months, approaching him every opportunity she managed to weasel, but he brushed her off, always making excuses about being busy or away, when she would see him flirting and sneaking around with village girls as soon as she turns her head.

“I know you are at your best now. I can tell.” He mumbled after a few minutes, too soft that she almost did not hear. “And… And yes, I know how selfish I am being. I know how selfish it is to say that I hate it. I hate seeing you with him, flirting with him the way you used to do to me. I hate seeing you look at him as if he held the world in his hands. I hate… I hate the fact that you replaced me with him!”

“I did not replace you! Ferdinand is not some kind of substitute to you. He is his own man, and I am perfectly aware of the differences and similarities.” She took a deep breath in, calming herself. “Ferdinand... Unlike you, he has been a blessing on my life. He never made me doubt my relationship with him because he made sure to spend every second of the day assuring me that I am the only one for him, that I am not just some girl he would fuck around with for fun then leave eventually the same way you did.”

She grew self-conscious underneath his studying gaze, but she continued. “He made me realize that love is not supposed to hurt. That love could be both grand gestures and courtly affections and the small, everyday grind of life. I love his sunny disposition, his positive outlook on things, his delicacy and mannerisms. I even love his flaws. I love what he does for me and I love who I am when I love him back.”

“Anything Aegir does, I can do, too, Byleth.” The redhead petulantly pointed out.

“No, Sylvain” The woman sighed as she approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders so she could look him directly in the eye. “Love is not a matter of being able to serve and do things for the other person, it is not about the uncertainty of being servile enough that you feel entitled to it. I hope you will come to realize it when she find the same kind of love that I did.”

She pulled away, turning to leave, when she heard his all-to-familiar nickname for her leave his mouth. “Dear?”

Goddess above, did she hate the fact that her muscle memory had reacted, turning to him immediately at the name she had reserved only for each other over the years. The frown on her face told him she did not appreciate it when he called her that anymore, but he continued anyway.

“Please do not use this name on him.” There was a sad smile on his face, all traces of hopefulness gone. He has given up. “I can stand seeing both of you together, seeing you kiss as if you thought no one was looking, but I do not think I could stand hearing your voice call him the way you used to call me.”

There was silence in the air again, because how does one go about responding to a request such as that?

“I will make sure to keep that in mind until you are ready to let go, Sylvain.” She offered her own smile.

Leaning up, she leaves a lingering kiss on his cheek, his eyes fluttering close knowing it was a bid farewell.

Not waiting for an answer, Byleth left, eyes shutting as guilt filled her stomach the moment when she heard his pained sob echo through the lonely room as she shut the door behind her.

As the morning came, the Gautier heir had left the monastery and returned to his territory to the north. He would be wed before the season went out, hoping to find out what “getting over” love even means.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[mightiestheroes]

Hello! Could you maybe write a Jaskier x Reader where Reader is also a bard. And they meet from time to time in taverns or to play for some royal festivity. And reader is super shy and comes off as cold expect when playing for others and everyone, including Jaskier thinks she is just vain and thinks better of herself. But she hast a crush on him and wants to know him better. And then they get caught by bandits or something dangerous. And then angst and fluff happens!

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Y/N huffed another deep breath. She loved performing, her lute and being able to sing bringing her so much pleasure in life. A lonely life. She wasn’t sure how that was possible but being among lots of people made her feel even more lonely. But she knew it was probably mostly her own fault. She was shy from the very beginning, she thought that performing would help her socialise and meet some friends or maybe even someone to fall in love with. But no such luck. She met another amazing bard – Jaskier some time ago in The Hairy Bear when she walked in while he was singing and damn, he was good. He had a strong but smooth voice that carried emotions so perfectly. She sat down and ordered a stew and some ale. She noticed people being naturally drawn to him, enchanted even and she felt jealous. She knew it was stupid but she wished she could be like him around others. After a few more songs and a loud applause, the bard appeared by her table.

“Do you play as well? That’s a beauty!” he asked pointing to her lute.

“Thanks, it was a gift from King Foltest. I performed at his court a few times.” You responded quickly but without much emotion because you got shy and nervous once again. He didn’t seem bothered by this at first.

“What are you doing now?” Jaskier seemed genuinely interested which made you even more flustered and distant.

“I’m a bard,” was your short response.

“Marvelous! Will you play something for us?” he asked loudly and the room seemed to go silent.

“I suppose I can.” You said taking your instrument and started playing. You decided to stay at your table where you felt quite safe and comfortable. Some of the folks looked at you sceptically while scoffing but you closed your eyes and started singing. When you finished and opened them, you saw Jaskier who was a bit shocked and other patrons clapped. But no one came to talk to you, no one commented on your song. They continues to eat and drink as they were.

“That was beautiful! Sorry but I didn’t catch your name…” Jaskier trailed off. You looked at him for a few seconds still replaying his words in your head. You noticed his blue eyes sparking with curiosity and joy, his playful yet warm smile. You wanted to stay there for a little longer and get to know this man. But your brain had other plans as always.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry, but I have to go.” You stood up quickly, leaving the fellow bard confused but intrigued. Jaskier wasn’t sure what to think about you. You were talented for sure, you had an amazing voice that could match his own. An idea popped into his head that it would be great to sing together some time. But he wasn’t so sure if he’s going to see you again, especially when you didn’t seem to be very friendly. Maybe playing on royal courts made you cocky and shallow. Maybe Foltest gave you not only that stunning instrument but also some lessons on how to treat commoners with pride and vanity. The young bard shrugged his shoulders and went on with singing and having fun with the small crowd.

The next time you meet him it’s his turn to walk in on your performance. You were standing in a middle of the town’s square which held spring festivities. And once again Jaskier found himself captivated by your voice and aura. You spotted him when you were finishing your last song and felt your heart quicken. He bowed theatrically and all you could gave him was a small, tight smile. People started clapping and you quickly bowed to them and wandered off. Jaskier thought it was quite odd, because he always mingles with people and talks to them about anything and everything to keep them entertained. He guessed people really saw your distance and coldness towards them. You were so angry with yourself, because finally you met someone interesting but couldn’t get past your fears and thoughts to get to know him. You wanted to work on that and you decided to try and talk to more people. The next day was so beautiful, the sun was shining and a warm delicate wind was bowing on your heated skin. You were roaming the streets and the market watching people walking around, buying and selling their goods, interacting. You walked up to an elderly woman who was selling herbs and oils. You breathed deeply, trying to stop your hands from shaking.

“Hello, do you have something to keep your throat healthy?” you asked shyly but quite proud you managed to do that.

“Oh of course, little dove. Are you a singer?” the sweet woman asked and you get nervous again but tried to fight it.

“I am indeed. I am a bard.” You replied and added a small smile in the end.

“That sounds interesting! Can you sing for me?” she caught you off guard but you kept reminding yourself that you want to make friends.

“I’m not sure… Maybe something short.” You replied and started singing quietly an old lullaby elder speech. As you saw the woman’s eyes widen as well as her smile, you felt amazing and smiled wholeheartedly at her.

“You are very talented, my dear! But you seem lonely.” she exclaimed and you got flustered again but decided to be honest.

“I am, actually. I am very shy with people and they don’t like me because of that…”

“You are beautiful and talented, you have nothing to be afraid, sweetheart. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!” she smiled and patted your hand. You returned the smile and thanked her as you walked away with a good feeling.

What you didn’t know was that a certain blue-eyed bard saw and heard everything and decided to befriend you next time he sees you.

Which happened a few weeks after that, when you both got invited to perform on some lord’s ball. You kept practicing your interactions with people and felt a bit better about yourself but going to such a big event still made you nervous. You also kept thinking if Jaskier is going to be there as you were getting ready. You put a little more effort into your appearance to make yourself calmer and braver. When you walked into the huge ballroom, your hands got a little bit sweaty but you pushed through and sat by the table. You heard a fit of giggles and followed the sound only to find Jaskier himself entertaining a few young women. You were happy to see him in hope to get to know him some more but the sight made you feel self-conscious again. Some people were trying to talk to you at the table but you couldn’t stop watching the handsome bard and brushed them off which seemed cold and rude once more. You needed some relax so you poured yourself some wine and observed the crowd. When you stepped outside to catch some air you noticed Jaskier by the small garden, watching the stars and mumbling to himself. Maybe it was the wine or the way the Moon made his face look angelic, but you took a few strides and came next to him. He did a little doubletake which made you blush and smile at him.

“Well, hello Y/N! Fancy seeing you here.” He greeted you but stayed aware of your usual cold demeanor. Which is why your response shocked and pleased him to no end.

“I was hoping to see you here…” you admitted shyly and couldn’t look him in the eyes so you quickly added “What are you doing outside?”

“Umm… I have an idea for a new song but I can’t get it right.” He started to walk into the garden away from the court and you followed him. “Will you help me?” he asked.

“Sure, let’s hear it!” he made you feel at ease as you walked and talked and hummed. You didn’t even notice when you got that far away as you sang with him the new song.

“I think we should sing it together, you know? As a duet.” He stopped and suggested looking her in the eyes with a small smile.

“I’d love that, Jaskier.” Hearing her say his name made the bard feel a bit dizzy and he felt butterflies in his stomach. He wanted to say something clever to make her smile again, when they heard rustling from the bushes. Two men emerged holding something in their hands which looked awfully like knives.

“What do we have here? Nevermind, give us your coins!” the first one exclaimed and they both pointed their knives at you. You paled and your breath hitched feeling scared.

“We don’t have any. Just leave us alone and go away.” Jaskier put his hand before you and tried to convince the men.

“Don’t think so. If you don’t have money, we can get something else…” the other one suggested looking at you and licking his lips. You wanted to say something, to protect yourself but Jaskier beat you to it.

“Like hell you are! Don’t even come near her” he screamed and started throwing punches. When the two men fell to the ground, the bard seemed shocked himself but then quickly turned to you.

“You can thank me later…” he tried to joke not sure how to handle this.

“You could’ve gotten hurt!” you shouted suddenly at him.

“But I didn’t. I wanted to make sure you were safe.” Jaskier admitted taken aback by your outburst.

“What for? They had knives Jaskier!” you weren’t sure yourself why you were mad at him.

“Because I care about your cold heart!” he was getting angry too.

“Cold?!” you felt tears in your eyes, his words hurt even if they were true.

“You act like you are better than all of us and brush off anyone who wants to get closer to you!” you knew he was right. You threw your arms in the air feeling helpless and not being able to find the right words.

“I know.” Was everything you said quietly and he stopped in his tracks looking at you expectantly. “I don’t think I am better than anyone. I just get stupid and nervous and it was always easier to push people away. But…” you stopped yourself not sure if you should tell him the truth.

“But what, Y/N?” he asked somehow hopefully and trying to catch your eyes. You took a deep breath and muttered.

“I don’t want to push you away.” You said quickly and quietly but he seemed to hear that. Jaskier smiled brightly and took your hand in his. You looked up just in time to see his breathtaking smile.

“Then don’t.” he simply replied and put his hand on the side of your face. He glanced down to your lips and you felt somehow calm and content. You smiled slightly and it was all it took for Jaskier to kiss you with all his passion.

REQUESTS OPEN

[greenwaterskeeter]

i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

[spookysnicket]

ANON: Request for HCs (nsfw included) of Billy Lenz with a shy, touch-starved loner S/O who's self-conscious about her relationship inexperience?

---

(Here you go love! I struggled with these for a bit, so I apologize if they aren’t all that great. I hope you enjoy though, and thank you so much for requesting! NS!FW warning, adult content below! HCs below the cut as always)

👁 For starters, Billy’s pretty much in the same boat. The closest he’s ever gotten to a stable relationship before you is, well, with his right hand. He’s horribly touch starved as well- seriously, have you seen this boy? He’d probably stop stabbing you mid-kill if you gave him a hug

👁 With Billy, it’s all or nothing. There is no in between. Either he’s smothering you to death with snuggles and sexual advances or he’s gone completely timid, full attic hermit, MIA. The on/off switch in his brain is sporadic, so there’s little you can do to push him to the side in your favor. You’ll have to adapt to and work around his ever changing emotional and mental states

👁 Keep that in mind when you consider that Billy is still a young man, and it doesn’t help at all that he’s a raging bundle of hormones personified. He’s been abused, neglected, and traumatized practically his whole life. He’s got a lot on his plate, and he’ll be plenty more than a handful for you at times. You’ll have to push your boundaries and test the pliancy of your patience to get through his most manic of episodes. The relationship can get one sided pretty frequently, but it’s for the sake of both your safeties

👁 Billy is EXTREMELY touchy. There’s something about human contact to him that’s utterly hypnotizing, and he’s going to use you to get his fix. Whenever he comes around, he’s always near or right next to you, holding or reaching out to grab some part of your body if you haven’t done so to him already

👁 Cuddling is perfect for the two of you when Billy’s less manic, which typically happens when he’s tired or right after sex. The usual position is with him curled into a ball, tucked snugly and securely in your arms, or with your bodies crossed up and intertwined like a human pretzel. Billy’s quite warm, so you likely won’t even need a blanket

👁 He will tease you using your touch starved nature, as if he isn’t the same way. There’s nothing stopping this crackhead from making fun of how “clingy” you are, regardless of the fact that he almost screamed last week because you weren’t in the mood to hold his hand or play with his hair

👁 Your relationship with Billy isn’t the pristine picture perfect example of a healthy couple. With all of Billy’s trauma and dubious mental health, it can be trying for the both of you. There are plenty of days where you’ll have to stand your ground or take initiative, but in the end it helps Billy learn what’s okay to do with you and what’s not (well, he tries to learn). It’s up to you to essentially mold Billy’s idea of a real relationship outside of the physical portions, and hopefully in doing so, help you figure that out too. At least you’re learning all of this together!

👁 That in mind, he’s also doing the best he can for you, too. Billy has experience with sorority sisters- real bubbly, upbeat, and confident girls- and he knows that you’re different. In that way, you’re much less foreign to him than the usual giddy college prep, you make more sense. He knows what it’s like to be lonely and dejected. He knows what it’s like to want to hide away, yet yearn to be with others. You’re easier to relate to, which therefore makes it 1000x easier for Billy to be able to adjust to you, and show his love to you in his own ways

👁 Now, this is still Billy Lenz we’re talking about. Don’t expect to find a dozen red roses waiting on the foot of your bed one night. His affection comes in the forms of using “I”s instead of “Billy”s when he talks to you, letting his body relax and lean into you rather than stiffening like a board during hugs, or coming down from the attic to seek you out for more than sex

👁 Billy isn’t gentle in the slightest, so there will be no tender lovey dovey hugs and kisses aside from any instances where you’re practically begging for some- and even then he tends to be a bit rowdy and brutish with his touch. On the flip side, you have to be very careful with giving him physical attention. He’s a big whiner, and if you touch him too harshly he’ll get real grumpy about it

👁 NS!FW: Completely disregard the end of that last fluffy HC during sex. Billy’s natural pacing is fast and hard, and he would go apeshit if you were just as eager, loud, and rough back. For the first few times it’ll just be him trying to get off as much as possible with your body, but if you give him enough reciprocation and encouraging signs that tell him he’s doing a good job, he’ll slowly start to fixate on your pleasure as well

👁 NS!FW: He is THE most vocal slasher during sex. This boy is in the negatives when it comes to any shame levels. Billy just really loves to talk, and especially so when he’s got you turned to a moaning mess, pinned on your back and looking up at him with stars in your eyes while he drives his thin, stuttering hips into you with a wild and uneven pace

👁 NS!FW: Despite knowing how shy and self conscious you may be, Billy’s got one massive degradation kink. He’s going to practically blabber out an essay through grunts and moans about how good his “pretty piggy” feels around him. He’ll shudder and scream out your name with every orgasm, and he doesn’t care if anyone’s around to hear

👁 NS!FW: Billy always wants to be touching you during sex, and is partial to any positions that have you both pressed flush together. The thought alone of your warm skin pulling from his own between a sticky film of sweat could make him nut on the spot

👁 NS!FW: Billy’s quite creative, and very open to trying anything at least once. Not sure what to do? No problem! He’s more than happy to take the reigns and fuck you as he pleases, but in a less frenzied state, he wouldn’t object to anything you’d prefer instead. I really see him as a dom-leaning switch, so he’d go absolutely nuts if you ever mention wanting to dom him or take the lead

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

Edinburgh to Boston - Chapter 9 - Snow Day

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

Chapter4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Hello all, Sorry for the delay getting this chapter out there.  Real life some times gets in the way. This includes technology as my hard drive died. I didn’t lose much, most of what is really important was able to be salvaged.

I finally got around to including links to the other chapters, so anyone who has not read them all will be able to find them if they want. 

Has anyone noticed that Jamie has not called Claire Sassenach in eight chapters? Well, that will be rectified now. You don’t know how hard it was not to call her that all this time.

If there are any questions, comments, or thoughts please don’t hesitate to let me know. I can only learn from what you all say. Respectfully, please.

I do need to thank my beta @curlsgetdemgurls reading this and giving me the courage to post this. You are the best. Chapter 10 is underway.  I have no idea when it will be done, but there is a Chapter 10. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Without further delay, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 9

Snow Day

Jamie and Claire sat at the table by the window, enjoying their breakfast. Jamie attacked his bowl of parritch, mixed berries, and honey with the ravenous appetite of a starving wolf who just happened across a carcass.

“Nuthin’ like a healthy bowl of parritch to start the day,” said Jamie, giving a withering look at Claire’s breakfast choices of fried eggs, bacon, and toast slathered with butter and jam.

“Well, Fraser, when in America, eat like one,” she said while waving a delectable piece of crunchy fried pork in the air. “It happens to be quite good. Even though they have got this bacon thing all wrong. Not like the rashers we have at home. Still, it is delicious.” Popping the tasty morsel into her mouth, she rolled her eyes and groaned ecstatically.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at the remaining piece sitting on the plate, “Looks mostly like fat to me.” He reached over, snatching the ribbon of porkiness from her plate, considered it, and swiftly consumed it. “Hmm, fatty, salty, crispy, and smoky.  ‘Tis good, but I wouldna want to eat it every day.  Cannae be good for ye.”

Sighing and shaking her head,  Claire leveled a look of exasperation at him. “Live a little will you? We’re on vacation!”

He let out a laugh, “Yer right, but there is no need to be unhealthy.  As it is, I’ll no’ be going to the gym today. Hmm, mebbe I’ll just carry ye around instead,” he said smugly. Tilting his head to the side, he gave her body an appraising look, much like gazing upon the beauty of a perfect rose.

“What do ye weigh a leannan, about 8-9 stone? That’s no’ much. I’ll never get a decent workout just carrying ye around,” he smirked.

“Why thank you, I think. That is supposed to be a compliment, right? You don’t think I’m too thin do you?” Suddenly becoming self-conscious, she looked down at herself trying to figure out if she was too fat or too thin.

“Aye, it ‘tis and no yer not. I like ye just fine the way ye are.”

Jamie leaned back in his chair stretching out his long legs and taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, lass, what would ye like to do today?”

“Well, if you are worried about not getting your proper exercise, there are other forms of exercise that will raise your heart rate, you know,” Claire said as she cast a quick glance back toward the bed.

Jamie ignored this.

“I ken what we can do! Why dinna ye take me to some of yer favorite places ye liked to go when ye lived here?”

“I don’t know if that is a wise idea. Boston winters are very cold and I don’t think that either of us has appropriate clothes to go wandering about. Besides, I don’t know how many places are open today. Most people will be digging out.”

Getting up, Jamie went to rummage through his suitcase. Sure enough, he found his favorite forest green cable knit pullover, his black jeans, a pair of duck boots, and his down jacket.

“Weel, I’ll be damned.  I dinna remember packing these. Check yer bag let’s see what you have in there.”

Claire opened her suitcase and found clothes suitable for outdoor activities. She found her favorite cashmere jumper in midnight blue and her woolen turtleneck sweater in deep rich wine. She also found her favorite black skinny jeans, a warm wooly hat and gloves, and her parka.

“I know I didn’t pack these. I’m sure of it.” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she considered how these clothes ended up in her bag.

“It doesna matter how they got there, yer clothes are here. Let’s get dressed. I shall leave the itinerary to ye.”

Claire’s breathing quickened. She began to nervously play with one her curls, twisting it around her finger, over and over.  Truth be told, there was a certain amount of anxiety about leaving the room. She worried about dredging up old memories that she safely tucked away after ending her marriage to Frank. Least of all was the prospect of visiting places that held unpleasant memories. Most certainly she did not want to visit these places with Jamie. Fearing the possibility of a chance meeting with Frank gave her shivers.  She concluded that the likelihood of a chance meeting would be remote as classes would be canceled. That would leave Frank free to shack up with some bimbo, er umm, a young woman all day.

“What’s amiss, lass? Ye look a bit peely-wally. Are ye alright?”

“Sorry?”

“Something is bothering ye. It’s written all over yer face. Ye ken ye can tell me anything.”

Jamie walked back to the chair by the window, pulling Claire along. He sat down and settled her on his lap.

“I dinna want ye to feel that ye need to tell me anything that ye canna, but I can see yer fair fashed over something. Mo nighean donn, tell me what’s bothering ye if ye can.” He raised his hand cupping her cheek and began to stroke his thumb over her cheekbone.  Melting into the warmth of his hand, she relaxed.

“I wasn’t honest with you when I told you I slept well.”

She cleared her throat nervously, eyes darting around the room searching for something to focus on while gathering her thoughts.

“I, ah, had a nightmare about, ...well, it was about Frank. It left me feeling rather unsettled, to say the least.”

Her body language and voice were contradictions, outwardly appearing composed while her voice quavered with emotion. Describing her dream, she related how Frank tried to plant seeds of doubt and used her insecurities against her. The Scottish Barbarian and The English Rose. Insinuating she had a need for someone to dominate her. Jamie observed Claire as she told her story. Her face contorted with frustration, anger, shame; her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I told…,” her voice cracked, “I told him that I love you and you love me. And, and that he should bugger off and not come back,” Claire said this with pride in her voice. “But he said he would come back when I called him. I don’t want to see him ever again, really I don’t. I’ll never call him back, never.” With that, Claire buried her face into Jamie’s shoulder crying shedding tears of outrage and irritation.

Jamie’s mouth drew together in a tight white line.  His eyes burned with anger. That Englishman, that filthy sassenach bastard! How could he have the audacity to come into his bed between him and his woman upsetting her, trying to sow the seeds of doubt. He had no care for insults or slurs directed at him. He heard them before. But, Claire! She is kindness and goodness personified. If I ever meet him...

Jamie’s arms came around her, pulling her close to him.  His strong hands rubbed her back in soothing circles. He spoke to her softly in the Gàidhlig, speaking words of comfort that had no meaning to Claire but spoke to her heart and soul.

Jamie cradled her close to his chest and gently stroked her hair, “I’ll let nay harm come to ye as long as I walk this earth. Dinna be afraid, a leannan, there is the two of us now.”

Claire nodded her head and sniffed.

Jamie’s hand reached under Claire’s chin, raising it up so that he could look onto her face. Her eyes were puffy, nose red and runny, and her cheeks were tear stained.

“Ye are so beautiful, mo chridhe,” Jamie said smiling. He took a serviette wiping Claire’s runny nose as he kissed away her tears.

She sniffed, “You must be blind. I’m really not sure you should be operating anymore. I’m sure I don’t look beautiful right now.”

“Yer beautiful to me always,” he said lovingly.

Jamie’s voice took on a more serious tone. “Claire, if ye dinna want to go out because yer worried that ye will run into Frank,” he growled saying the bastard’s name, “I dinna want you to do anything that will make ye uncomfortable. We could always find something else to do.” He waggled his eyebrows in an attempt at being suggestive.

“Ridiculous man,” she said with a smile in her voice, feeling so grateful to have found him.

Closing her eyes to aid her concentration, she considered Jamie’s suggestion carefully weighing each of the pros and cons.

How much longer will I give Frank power over me, to control me and my life? It’s been three years since we divorced and he still tries to make me insecure, belittle me. When will I remove myself from his grasp? It’s now or never. It’s time to choose.  Time to take back what’s mine.

“NO! No, I won’t run and hide.  Frank has run my life for far too long, and I’ll be damned if I let him continue. Let’s go see Boston, Jamie. We’ll make our own memories,” Claire said grinning.

“That’s my lass. Yer strong, brave, and fearless and I love ye for it.” Jamie gave her a resounding smack on the lips that left her breathless.

They quickly dressed and departed the room laughing, smiling with their fingers intertwined.

**************

Jamie and Claire stepped outside of the comfort of their hotel into the bitter cold and biting winds. In spite of being warmly dressed, the frigid temperature threatened to seep its way into the very marrow of their bones.

The sidewalks were barely passable despite the best efforts of man, machine, and salt. Icy patches dotted the landscape causing the lovers to slip and slide along the walkways. Jamie’s hand reached out taking Claire’s elbow to steady her. They climbed over mounds of grey city snow that sported an occasional yellow streak.

After walking for twenty minutes, they reached Boston Common, each sporting red runny noses and equally red cheeks.

“I’m beginning to think yer first suggestion to stay in bed all day was a good idea,” Jamie said with a smirk on his face, the steam of his breath escaping with each word.

“Do you want to turn back?” A look of concern written all over her face.

“Nah, I was concerned about ye, Sassenach.”

Claire stopped dead in her tracks.  “Sassenach?! I know that word and it isn’t very nice.  Isn’t that something derogatory to call me?” Her amber eyes narrowed glaring at him with unnerving thoroughness.

“In truth, it depends on who and how they are saying it. The word sassenach really means Englishman or English lady. At worst, it means outlander. I have always called ye Sassenach in my mind.  Ye see I have always thought of ye as my English Lady. A woman of grace and refinement, a true Lady.”

With that, Jamie smiled placed his hand over his heart and made a courtly bow, “My Lady, I am at yer service.”

Giggling at the sight she decided to return the gesture.  Bowing her head and spreading the skirt of her jacket, Claire curtsied, “My Lord.”

Jamie popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

“Who told ye?” he demanded.

Claire looked quizzically at Jamie, “Who told me wot?”

“That I am a Laird.”

“You’re a wot???” she gasped.

“I am Laird Broch Tuarach of Lallybroch Estate.  My home. ‘Tis only an honorary title now, but it has been handed down in my family since the 18th century. Lallybroch is a working farm in the Highlands, ye ken.  My sister Jenny and her husband Ian run it. Their five children live there too. But, technically it is mine as I retain the title and will pass it on to my son someday.”

“Hmm, do I have to curtsy every time I see you, my Laird?” Claire asked with a coy smile.

Laughing to herself, she wondered how the OR staff would react if they had to curtsy every time he came to do a case.

“Nay, I think we can dispense with the formalities if ye please,” Jamie said with a chuckle.

“Good. It’s awfully hard to curtsy in the bloody snow.”

“May I offer ye my arm my Lady as we stroll about on this fine cold day...for the sake of yer safety of course. I wouldna want ye to slip and fall injuring yerself.” His blue eyes, as blue as the cold clear sky, crinkled with mirth as he extended his arm for her to take.

Bobbing her head, and lowering her eyelashes demurely she said, “It would be my pleasure, my Laird,” and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Claire suddenly wondered why this felt like such a familiar thing to do.

Jamie tucked her hand securely in place pulling his arm and her hand closer to his body. He began to speculate why it felt like he had done this more times than he could remember. It felt natural, more like an everyday occurrence for them to walk like this.

A strong wind blew up around them, coating Claire from head to foot in a sheath of powdery snow crystals. The hair that peaked out from under her cap glistened, lashes sparkled with the tiny flakes that clung to them, and her clothes were enrobed in glittering flakes. She took on an otherworldly aura.

His mouth opened as he watched the swirling dust of snow float around her.

She must be one of the faes. No, not just a fae, but Queen of the Fae. For only the Queen could be so beautiful.

He stood there envisioning her in the finery befitting a Queen. A circlet of silvery moonbeams would adorn her head accentuating her mass of curls. Her lithe form draped in a diaphanous gown made of diamond dust while her feet were encased in slippers made from starlight.

He wanted to fall on his knees in worship, beg her to take him to her Queendom. He would become her Knight of the Realm, her Champion. With dirk and sword, he would do battle shielding her from harm. He would slay dragons, protect her from evil sorcerers, and safeguard her from malevolent creatures. As darkness envelops the earth, he would sleep at her feet sheltering and guarding her against the dangers that lurk in the blackness of night. She had cast a spell on him and he was happy to be under her power.

He heard the tinkling of her laughter, much like a wind chime, light and gentle in the breeze. Her eyes crinkled with merriment as a small buffy-brown bird landed on her shoulder. It hopped along coming closer to her ear merrily chirping. Claire raised her hand and stroked the downy head of the little bird speaking softly to it. Her hand went to her pocket and returned with a bit of her toast from breakfast. She opened her hand and the warbler flew onto her hand seized the bread and took wing.

Jamie stood in awe of the scene unfolding before him. “Is a wild bird so tame for her?!” The scene repeated itself several more times with birds flitting along her arm, singing and trilling to her. Each was tenderly stroked, given a bit of bread, then flew off to join its fellows. Her hand went to her pocket pulling out the remainder of the toast wrapped in the serviette. She tore the bread into bits scattering it on the snow.  En masse a clan of the small birds gathered joyously chirping doing a demented dance around the bread, pecking at it.

Mary, Michael, and Bride, she is the Queen of the Fae!

Claire looked at him with a radiant smile.

For a split second, Jamie became irrationally afraid.

“How did ye do that, lass!? The birds, they seem so tame!”

“I don’t do anything, really. They just come. It’s been happening for a long time, ever since I was a little girl. It started not long after my parents died,” Claire said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Sassenach, do ye want to tell me about it if ye can?” Jamie asked cautiously knowing her parents' death is a painful and sensitive area for her.

There was a moment of hesitation, then taking a deep breath to steel herself for the memories.

“As I told you after my parents deaths my uncle Lamb became my guardian. He was writing a book on the meaning of birds in different cultures. While he sat writing in his study, I would play in the garden. One day, not long after my arrival, I was playing with my plushy dog when a bird, a sparrow, flew down next to me. Its head turned side-to-side watching me. Then it began to sing one of the sweetest songs I had ever heard. I held out my hand and it hopped on, chirping madly while wildly flapping its wings as if it were a leaf caught in a maelstrom.”

Claire’s eyes clouded and her lip quivered while struggling to maintain her composure as the childhood memories beset her.

“I began to pet the bird and it quieted under my touch. It began to sing again, but this time soft and low. For a moment, I thought I heard my mother’s voice singing the lullaby she sang to me at bedtime.”

She gave Jamie a sidelong glance to see if he thought she was deranged. He stood there calm, placid, face expressionless, giving no hint to his inner thoughts.

“I started to cry and the bird flew off. I got up and ran into to tell Lamb what happened. He picked me up, put me on his lap, and cuddled me to his chest. After he wiped my tears, he told me that ancient Egyptians believed that sparrows carried the souls of the dead to heaven. Perhaps this one came to tell me that my parents were in heaven with God and the angels and I shouldn’t worry.”

A single tear ran down her cheek.

“I was happy that Momma and Daddy were in heaven, but I really didn’t understand all of what he was talking about.  Later, as they continued to visit me, we talked about it again. Lamb told me that a Buddhist teacher he knew believed that a person in mourning is considered a very holy person. This holy state opens the mourner to experience things that are beyond the physical world and more receptive to the spiritual world. Lamb thought that was why I thought I heard my mother singing or my father’s laugh when the birds came. Grieving opened my heart to other possibilities.”

“Three months before you came,” she continued, “whenever I would walk Ginger in the park the birds would continue to visit. I began to hear another voice, a new one. It was deeper, rich, and very, very masculine. He would call my name, sometimes in passion and sometimes with love and laughter.” Giving him a quick sidelong look she finished her tale,  “I know now that it was your voice I heard.”

Jamie startled at this revelation. Was it truly his voice or could it be the other’s voice calling out to her from across the centuries? He wondered if she was ready to hear about the Fraser Legend. No, he thought not just yet. He disliked withholding something from her but now was definitely not the right time.

Beginning to fidget, she moved her foot in the snow gouging out a divot with the heel of her boot. She felt the heat rising up to color her cheeks. She was afraid to look at Jamie fearing that she would see he truly thought her insane.

Neither spoke for a time. The only sound around them was the wind soughing through the leafless branches.

“Claire, look at me.” Jamie placed his fingers under her chin forcing her head up to look at him. She kept her eyes closed not able to bear the disdain she would see in his eyes for her.

“Mo ghràdh, look at me, please. I believe you. I dinna understand it, but I believe you.”

“How can you believe me when it sounds crazy even to me? Really, Jamie! I have often wondered if this...” Claire waved her hand toward the birds eagerly consuming the bread, “was nothing more than the imaginings of a sad and lonely child who grew up to become a sad and lonely adult searching for her lost parents and her lost home. A woman who is so desperate that she convinces herself that some sparrows hold the souls of her dead parents. Christ, Jamie!”

He looked at her, her glass face giving away her sense of loss, loneliness, and pain. “Sassenach,” he spoke gently to her as if she were a frightened child, “I am an educated man but I am also a Highlander born and bred. I do ken there are many a thing that is beyond our understanding. There are many tales of the highlands that still canna be explained. Why not this?” His eyebrow lifted in an inquiry.

“Can ye explain what happened to Robert Gordon? The man was clinically dead after 30 minutes of resuscitation no heartbeat, no breathing. Then all of a sudden the man sits up and starts talking. He told us everything that happened in that room, everything we said and did. He said he saw his wife and bairns calling and greetin’ for him.  There was more for him to do he kent, so he decided to come back.”

“Yes, I remember.” Claire shuddered at the remembrance of the event. It still gave her chills to think about it.

“Can ye explain that? No, I dinna think so. There are things that are outside our ken. Why must ye explain yers? It just is. Dinna question it, especially when it makes ye happy to believe so.”

Her rational mind, the scientific part of her, rejected any possibility of this being true, but the little girl in her wanted, no needed to hold on to any chance that she might still have some connection to her family.

Claire’s eyes drifted down toward the snow.  The clan of sparrows left, all except three.  She sighed.  It was always the same, three of the warblers always remained, two males and one female.

The birds stood there cocking their heads from side-to-side regarding Claire and Jamie. The female and one of the males flew up alighting on Claire’s shoulder. The female came close rubbing her feathery head against Claire’s cheek, softly cheeping to her.  The male landed on her opposite shoulder gently pecked at her hair.

The more vocal male flew up landing on Jamie’s forearm giving him a level look. He began to chatter and chirp loudly hopping up his forearm with the determination of a sprinter moments away from the finish line.

His black birdy eye coldly glared while uttering piercing squawks of what seemed to be warning or admonition.  The feathery wings spread wide fluttering frantically. This was one very agitated bird.

“If we are going to believe these creatures possess the souls of my family, I think he is my father and these two are my mother and uncle,” Claire said with a small smile.

“Aye, I think yer right, Sassenach.”

Jamie reached up took hold of both of  Claire’s hands, linking them together.

“Sirs and Madam,” Jamie said with all solemnity, “I am James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, and I am deeply in love with yer daughter and niece. My intentions are honorable and I promise to see her safe, care for her and love her all the days of my life. I ask yer approval of our relationship.” He bowed his head in respect toward the feathery family.

In unison, their heads swiveled toward Claire questioning.

“I love him too. He fills my heart with love and joy. He takes away the emptiness. When I am with him it's as if the sun comes out on a cloudy day filling my life with light and warmth.”

The downy kinfolk flew around them coming to land on their joined hands singing sweet and mellow.

“I hope ye dinna mind, but I plan to kiss yer daughter.”

Their hands broke apart.  Jamie raised his hands up to cup Claire’s face, “Before yer family, I love ye, Claire Beauchamp across all time.”

“I love you too, always and forever,” she sighed into his mouth.

He leaned forward and tenderly pressed his lips to hers. A kiss filled with so much love, tenderness, and promise.

His eyes crinkled and a smile lit his mouth, “Aye, I must love ye Sassenach, ye have me talking to the birds too.”

The little bird family took flight soaring high above the lovers and disappeared into the sky knowing their daughter and niece was well loved.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Safe by My Side

Paring: Dean Winchester x Reader

For the SPOOKTOBER 2018 Competition

Requested by @smallmarvel : For your Halloween fic celebration, could I request a little Dean Winchester x reader where they go to a haunted house and Dean is acting all cool but one of the jump-scares get him? And the reader ends up "protecting" him in the haunted house even though Dean said it'd be the other way around.

Words: 3167

Warnings: Playful teasing, uhhh??? Maybe pining? Maybe?

A/N:  I wanted the reader to have this playful (almost flirtatious) banter between herself and Dean and I’m not sure if I succeeded but I loved making Cas pop out of nowhere and trying to make it a little more outrageous each time. I sorta changed up the jump scare bit, but it still kinda counts. I haven’t written anything Dean-centric in years so I may be rusty, this was written with the younger, less tortured Dean in mind.

The younger Winchester brother had dark circles under his eyes and was buried beneath a mound of papers and books. He looked exhausted.

"According to the news reports, several people were found dead after visiting a Haunted House attraction in Iowa. Eyewitnesses say they all just collapsed and turned pale. The current theory is that they all suffered from cardiac arrest," Sam informs you and Dean about the latest string of strange deaths that caught his attention. "Which is odd because all the victims seemed perfectly healthy."

Dean offered a cup of coffee to Sam -who accepted it graciously- before he took a sip from his own steaming cup, he looked far more rested than Sam, although you could tell he too was not at his best because he had let his scruff grow out more than usual. You had opted for tea that morning in fear of having a caffeine overdose -your hands were shaking plenty as it was.

"Young, healthy people suddenly dying of heart attacks… sound familiar to you?" Dean quirked a brow at his brother, undoubtedly a reference to a previous case they had worked. "We thinking Reapers again?"

Sam simply shook his head, "Official reports said heart attack, but have you ever seen a heart attack do this?"

Sam pointed at his computer screen and both you and Dean leaned in closer to get a better picture. An image of one of the victims was on display on an online forum run by fans of the occult. The image showed a young man, skin drained of almost all colour, his eyes red and hair a ghostly shade of white. A look of pure horror frozen onto his face as his lips were permanently set in a forever scream.

"Yikes," was all Dean said.

"Yikes indeed, which also means cause of death is not a heart attack or a Reaper."

"Wait, so what you're saying is that this demon or whatever it is, is literally scaring people to death?" You asked, slightly ruffled by the idea of being scared to death. Chills, unwelcomed, crawled up your spine and caused gooseflesh to spread over your skin.

Dean noticed you shiver slightly. His cheeky smile was obscured by his coffee mug.

"Don't worry Y/N, I'll keep you safe," he nudged you playfully with his elbow, and despite the teasing tone, you noticed a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes and let out a soft sigh, serving out your signature blend of exasperation and sarcasm. You tried really hard to hide the small smile that tugged at your face muscles but being around Dean always made you feel more vulnerable, exposed. It also made it so you'd have to constantly fight off the blush in your cheeks and the dazzled glint in your eyes every time you were close to him.

You had been an ally to the Winchester brothers for going on two years, and even though you and Dean had undeniable chemistry (like two magnets pushing and pulling against each other), neither of you dared explore it further.

They were hunters and, even though it wasn't by choice, so were you. Besides, Hunters rarely got their happily ever after. And in all honesty, you weren't sure you'd be able to survive it if anything ever happened to Dean while you guys were together.

"The mighty Dean Winchester, my hero..." you teased him back after you managed to compose yourself.

The two of you held eye contact for a while until Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, making you jump a little as you took a seat next to him to look over several newspaper articles on his laptop. An article headline revealed that the house attraction was located on carnival grounds.

"Oh, Sammy-boy, carnivals. Best keep you away from those clowns," you joked.

Sam smiled a little before putting on a serious face, "Please, stop calling me Sammy-boy."

"Not a chance!" you wiggled your brows playfully as you took another sip of your tea.

"The day Y/N stops calling you Sammy-boy, is the day Dean gives up pie," Cas chimed in nonchalantly from the upper floor of the bunker. You and the boys gasped from freight, not expecting Cas to pop out of nowhere like he always does.

"Jesus, Cas! We talked about this. If you keep on popping out of thin air unannounced I'm going to have to put a little bell on your neck so we know when you're around!" You lectured the adorable trench coat wearing angel. He gave you a confused and apologetic look.

"Where would you find a bell large enough? I apologise, Y/N, I simply came here for this book," he held up a book he previously didn't have in his hands and without a word of warning, he blinked back out of sight.

"Oh, and one more thing," Cas popped back in front of you. "Hold onto this for me." He handed you a small ancient looking pendant and then disappeared again.

"Sure," you replied to thin air. "Aaand he's gone."

"Well, that was a very insightful visit..." Sam deadpanned.

"So, everyone up for a road trip to Iowa?" Dean tossed the keys to the Impala gently in one hand.

Sam grumbled, obviously not too keen about the prospect of running into clowns, especially since it was the Halloween weekend. You, on the other hand, were slightly more optimistic. You got to solve a case and celebrate Halloween with two out of three of your favourite people, Cas was away handling 'angel duties' as he had put it. You hadn't seen him in one place for longer than 5 minutes in almost two weeks.

***

When you finally arrived in Iowa and got settled into a quaint but minimalistic motel, you and the boys decided to go to a diner to get something to eat.

"So what's the plan?" You asked as you watched Dean stuff his face with the most outrageously sized burger you had ever seen while Sam gulped down his first cup of coffee of the day.

"Well I was planning on doing some more research at the motel," Sam informed you.

You smiled into your coffee cup, stifling your laugh before it could surface. Sam rose an eyebrow at you while he moved his salad about with his fork.

"What?" He asked feeling a little self-conscious.

"Afraid of running into any clowns, Sammy-boy?"

Dean smiled like a smug squirrel with cheeks full of food at your jab.

"No, just afraid of being stuck with the two of you while you trade flirtatious banter."

Dean choked on his food and your eyes went wide as a blush spread across your face.

“Well that sure as hell shut you up,” Sam leered with delight at his quip.

Once Dean finished with his burger he added: "So I guess that means you and I are going monster hunting."

You turned to him with some alarm in your expression, "Wait… but we don't know anything about this monster. Or how to kill it. If we even can kill it!" You whisper shouted.

Dean rose one brow and tilted his head with a suggestive smirk, "Don't worry. I promised to keep you safe, didn't I?"

You leaned closer to him, "Dean Winchester, my knight in shining armour." You teased

Sam groaned into his coffee.

"Oh, brother..." He whispered before looking towards a waitress and saying: "Check please."

***

"So what's the plan?" You asked Dean as you made your way towards the haunted house.

"I was kinda just going for See monster: attack it."

You shook your head, "Not a plan for that. A plan for that." You pointed at the flashing lights blinding patrons from the windows, blaring otherworldly recordings of screams and cackles next to dozens of paying visitors dressed in costumes of all shapes and sizes.

Finding the real monster on an ordinary occasion would be difficult as is since you didn't know what it looked like, but with the added difficulty of everyone being disguised, that elevated things to near impossible. Not to mention the obvious jump scare attractions and disorienting lights and sounds blaring from the PA system.

Having a third pair of eyes would have been beneficial, but Sam doing research was equally important if you wanted to figure out how to kill this monster.

You unknowingly huffed with exasperation, not looking forward to the cat and mouse act that was undoubtedly going to play out.

Dean didn't seem as bothered by all the potential problems that could arise and simply gave you a nonchalant shrug. "Well in that case, how about: hear a scream, run in that general direction?"

You clapped sarcastically, "Bravo, good to know we're all in good hands."

"Oh, you wish you knew how good these hands were," Dean winked.

You gasped before playfully jabbing his side, making him clutch his side with a coughing laugh, "Ow, your elbow is so sharp… and bony."

“It’s sharpened by years of having to listen to your terrible excuse for wit, Winchester.”

“Wow, Y/N! You wound me?” He placed his hand on his heart dramatically.

“Come on Romeo,” you shook your head at his theatrics. Dean was always more playful around you. You loved that feeling, knowing you brought out a side of him people rarely saw.

As you made your way through the entrance a glum-looking attendant stopped you with a cardboard Stop sign.

"Fifteen dollar entrance fee beyond this point. Halloween special weekend requires patrons to be in costume for free entry." He delivered his lines in a very drowsy monotone, clearly unhappy at his current employment.

"Fifteen dollars?" Dean barked in disbelief, his mouth agape when he looked at you with shock.

"I've got this," you whispered to Dean as you sauntered over to the attending clerk and gave him a heart-melting smile. The clerk didn't look up from his desk so you cleared your throat. He finally looked up, his face caught off guard by the charming smile you had on.

"My friend and I didn't know we had to wear costumes, you think you could, maybe, let it slip... Just this once?" You flipped your hair. When he looked like he wasn't going to budge, you leaned closer and dragged your finger against his name tag. "Please Chad. It would mean the world to me!"

"I'm not supposed to… Company policy," he shrugged apologetically.

You leaned closer and whispered as though you were conspirators, "Aww, come on Chad. I'd be really grateful."

The clerk blushed and stammered a bit, "I- I wish I could but..." He averted his gaze, too shy to look you in the eye for too long.

Dean grumbled disapproving beside you, it sounded a little jealous to your ears. You would be lying if you said that didn't make you feel a little wily

You over exaggerated your pout. Then you saw a stack of name tags laying on his desk. "Hey, can I borrow those?" You pointed at the stack of name tags.

"S-sure..." he handed them to you.

"And a pen?" You batted your eyes innocently. Chad handed you his pen.

You jotted down two names and stuck them on your and Dean's jackets. Yours said 'God' and Dean's said 'Lucifer'.

Dean just gave you a very unimpressed look and you simply wiggled your eyebrows, "What? Too soon?" You joked.

You turned back to the attendant, "Now we're in costume."

The clerk looked between you and Dean and then back to the name tag stuck to your left breast pocket of your jacket, "I guess that counts."

"Thanks, Chad!" You winked gleefully as you made your way into the haunted house.

You heard the clerk whisper something to himself and then Dean cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Chad, eyes back on your magazine pal."

You beamed at his overprotective streak.

***

As you searched the house, slightly tense with anticipation of some sort of scream or attack, you and Dean made small talk as you walked from one overly dramatized room to the next.

"So, you and Chad were chummy. You gonna ask him out on a date? Maybe hunt a poltergeist." Dean huffed, pretending he wasn't jealous.

"No, definitely not." You said straight-faced. Dean's green eyes lit up as a smile danced across his lips. "Vampires are more appropriate for first dates!"

Dean's smile faltered and his ears turned red slightly. You snickered.

You twirled to stand in front of him, "Oh please, Dean Winchester. You know I only have eyes for you." You jabbed, imitating your flirtatious eyelash bat from before.

Dean sighed as he ran his hands through his well-maintained scruff, but then he saw something that made him grin. With curiosity, you turned around and yelped with sudden freight.

"Fuck!" You gasped as a giant animatronic scarecrow looked down upon you.

Dean laughed, holding his sides. "You should see your face."

You punched him playfully, "Jerk! You know I hate scarecrows!"

Dean parried your playful punches and ended up griping you cross-armed against his chest. He didn't notice how tightly your back was pressed to his chest until he felt your body move along with the resounding vibrato from his deep laughs.

He let you go and cleared his throat, his hands unsure of whether to stuff themselves in his jeans or his leather jacket. You wiped the awestruck look from your face and tried to let the smell of the smoke machine wash his musk away from your brain. It was futile. You tried to return to your playful demeanour from before.

"Come on, Mr Funny Guy. Let’s go before I beat you to death with this guy’s robotic arms," you pointed to the scarecrow, making sure your eyes didn't land on its face.

"I'm shaking in my boots."

You scowled at him in faux anger and he shrunk his neck and held up his hands.

"Ladies first," you urged him to open the door.

Dean complied and as soon as the door swung open, a creepy 6 foot Easter bunny with different sized red eyes and blood-stained teeth popped from its hidden trigger switch -a bloodied fake knife in one hand.

Dean laughed at the jump scare and turned to give you a triumphant look. As soon as he did he shouted, "Jesus, Cas!" as he stumbled onto the floor from surprise.

Cas was practically covered from head to toe in black ooze. His clothes partially singed and his torso home to two daggers.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked from the floor.

"Hell happened," he said monotonously before turning to you and asking, "Do you still have that pendant?"

"Yeah," you fished it out from around your neck and handed it to him.

"Thank you. Oh and be careful, I'm pretty sure the only thing that can kill your monster is a ceremony dagger blessed by a witch doctor steeped in alligator blood."

"Alligator blood?" You asked. "Where would we get--"

Cas pulled out a 9-inch knife and handed it to you.

"Thank Sam," was all Cas offered in response before blinking out of existence.

You waltzed over and kneeled next to him, offering your hand. "Don't worry Dean, I'll keep you safe from the big, bad killer Easter bunny… Oh, and the harmless trench coat wearing angel too."

Dean tried to hide his smile when he picked up the irony of your words, but you saw it nonetheless. He accepted your hand, but before you could help him to his feet he pulled you down towards him and cupped your face close to his. And after a tantalisingly long pause, he kissed you passionately, knocking the air right out of your lungs. When your kiss broke your lips were partially kiss-swollen and your face had a blank expression. He had literally rendered you speechless.

"So that's what that’s like," He said hoarsely.

"What?" You asked in a splendorous daze, your whole body tingling.

Dean smirked, "A moment of quiet."

You were snapped out of your moment of elation by his retort and scowled at him again, slapping his chest as you untangled yourself from his strong arms.

"Oof!" He protested.

"Ha ha, Winchester," you helped him off the ground. 

When you were standing close together again the both of you tried to hide your blush when it dawned on you both what just happened. You both stepped away from each other clumsily, averting your eyes from each other's faces.

"We've got some hunting to do." You said frantically as you practically shoved the knife at him, storming ahead as you tried to shake the memory of what just happened away.

After some uncomfortable silence, Dean tried to lighten the mood again, "Are you blushing under that scowl?"

You rolled your eyes, "Say's the guy who was jealous of Chad!"

"I wasn't jealous of Chad!" He denied your allegation childishly, waving the sharp knife around dangerously causing you to bob around the knife.

"You know, I don't know how I feel about someone as jumpy as you swinging that sword around."

"It's not a sword and I'm not jumpy!" He waved the dagger again causing you to duck this time.

"I dunno, at this point I feel like I'd be safer with Sam by side. Clown phobia and all!" You quipped.

"Yeah, unless our monsters happened to look like scarecrows or clowns, or both!" He retorted. “Clownish Scarecrows! Ooh, Scarecrow Clowns! Wouldn’t that be something?”

You sighed and turned to Dean. Leaning close to him so he let his guard down. He stalled for a moment, unsure of what you were about to do.

The energy between the two of you had shifted, become more electrified now that you both knew what kissing the other felt like. Your toes were still tingling, but now wasn't the place to address his rash actions and your equally rash acceptance of them. When your lips were merely a hairsbreadth away, you snatched the giant knife and used his weight to flip him onto his back.

"Nevertheless, I still think it'd be better if I took over the role of the knight in shining armour." You said sweetly while he grunted from the impact of the fall.

"You know, it may be nice to be the damsel in distress for once," Dean joked as he picked himself up.

"Shall we?" He asked.

"After you." You replied.

***

After that night, you and Dean had found it increasingly easier to share more quiet moments together, much to Sam’s chagrin since he usually had to deal with your blatant flirting and innuendos while he was around. Cas just found the whole situation confusing.

MasterList

[strayneoculturekids]

NCT ot21 Comforting you During a Mental Breakdown

A/N: I couldn’t include gifs because the file was too big and the post wasn’t loading T^T,,, Imagine how bad this’ll be in the future....

Taeyong:

He would be like so worried for you ok

trying his absolute best to understand what you’re going through and give you suggestions or just be a listening ear if that’s what you wanted

would literally get you anything you want

Big fluffy blanket? Already got it. A pint of ice-cream? Heads out to the store super quickly if there isn’t any at home. Cuddles? An absolute given.

“You can talk to me, I’m here, It’s ok”

Would definitely get rid of all distractions and put all of his attention to you because you’re his whole world and he would do anything to make sure you’re healthy and doing ok.

Taeil:

We all know Taeil can be a bit dumb sometimes but he tries his best

He wouldn’t really know what to do at first but he would definitely sit down with you and just be completely silent, letting you tell all your worries to him without interruption because he knows you probably really need to get all of your tears and thoughts out

“I’ll try and help you through this. Just know I love you”

Afterward, if you still weren’t calm he’d probably sing to you especially if you asked him to

He’d be a bit awkward at first but he’s mature and will take care of you 100%

Johnny:

Johnny is such a softie especially when it comes to you

He would try his best to cheer you up but would also be able to recognize if you didn’t really want to be cheered up and just wanted to get out all your tears

If that was the case he’d just like,,, envelope you in cuddles and let you get everything out while nodding and encouraging you

“Just know I’m here whenever you need, alright?”

Is there every step of the way, you need his help at any time at all? He’s completely ready to drop everything and run to your side to give you comfort

Would support and encourage you whenever you need it

Yuta:

Yuta is a manly man alright but if he sees you crying in the corner of your room he will instantly turn into the softest person ever and just like go to your side to comfort you in whatever way he possibly can

Would just listen and nod, offering advice and words of encouragement wherever he saw fit

“You can get through this! I’m here for you”

He would definitely lock hands with you and squeeze tight just to let you know that he’s there with you whatever you’re going through and that you can always come to him whenever you need anything at all or feel like you don’t matter

Would always make sure you were ok afterward and would probably sing if you asked him to

Kun:

Kinda like Taeyong

Like he would do absolutely everything to make sure you’re ok. Would get you anything you need and do everything you want.

Depending on if you want advice, he’d be a tiny bit more talkative than Taeyong though.

Would instantly pull you into his lap and give you little neck kisses from behind while squeezing you to let you know he’s there to support you and help you through this every single step of the way.

“Do you need anything? I’ll get it”

Would totally cook for you if you wanted some home cooking and maybe joke a bit once you’ve calmed down because he wants to see you smile again just to make sure you’re ok

Doyoung:

Doyoung, again, a huge softie when it comes to you

Would get like the saddest look on his face once he saw you sad and would ask what’s wrong and would put in 101% of his effort into understanding what made you upset and what’s happening

Would probably wrap you in a blanket burrito (or both of you in a blanket burrito together) because he’s extra like that

but it’s only because of how much he cares for you and how much he wants you to be safe and feel happy

“let’s get through this together, yeah?”

Would sing softly to you until you fall asleep and then move you to the bed and cuddle with you until morning probably

Ten:

We all know ten, an absolute crack-head like oh my god

But if he saw you having a mental breakdown his entire personality would just change and suddenly he’s the most caring person in the world

would make sure that you’re ok and give you lots!!! of!!! cuddles!!!

“Would you like some cuddles for your struggles?” 

He’d still joke around but it would just be to make you feel better and hopefully see you smile, he just wants the best for you because you mean everything to him

Would sing but probably only if you asked him to, otherwise, he’d just cuddle you and make sure you’re calm and then start talking to you to see what’s wrong and how he can help

Jaehyun:

Cuddles!! Cuddles cuddles cuddles!!! He’s an absolute softie 100% of the time and is absolutely down to cuddle whenever and if you’re feeling sad and cuddling will make you feel better that’s an added bonus!!!

Super supportive and is constantly telling you that it’s ok and you can come to him whenever you need

“I’ll help you feel better. Don’t try to hide this from me, yeah? I’m here whenever you need me”

Would not leave you alone until he made you crack a laugh or even giggle in the slightest bit. Would definitely let you get everything out first though. Even if you said you wanted space he would!! Not!! Leave!!

Unless you were like really persistent on just wanting some time to yourself; but you can bet your ass he coming back in like 5 minutes to check on you because he loves you too much to leave you alone

Winwin:

Wouldn’t?? really?? know?? what?? to?? do??

he’s a super loving boyfriend and would try his godamn best to comfort you.

Would put his arm over your shoulder and bring you closer to him or sit you on his lap and bring your head into his chest.

Wouldn’t really speak, he’d just let you cry and tell him everything that’s been going on while rubbing your back soothingly

“Please don’t try to carry any heavy burdens alone”

He would probably just say whatever comes to mind once you’ve told him everything. Wants to make sure that you know how much he cares for you.

Jungwoo:

I don’t really know how he would act. I mean we all know that he’s very softly-spoken and has a small voice but he will still fight anyone who hurts you.

he’s a protective boyfriend so if he saw you having a mental breakdown he’d instantly run up to you, grab your hands, look you in the eyes with the most sincere and soft expression ever and ask you what’s wrong.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

Once you tell him what happened he’d just give you a big hug and encourage you to tell him everything that’s been on your mind and what he can do to help you.

Lucas:

Another super protective boyfriend. Gets super worried when he sees you and he gets super loud because he’s just like that.

Once you tell him what’s up he’ll try to soften his voice and comfort you quietly. 

Expect him to absolutely envelope you in his long arms and not let go until you’ve promised him you’re ok and you’ve stopped crying.

Like ten, he’d joke around to get a smile out of you and make sure you’re ok. Might roll you up in a blanket like a sushi roll.

“Look! now you’re like me, Xuxi!” (Xuxi sounds like sushi)

Would smile the biggest smile ever when you finally smiled at his jokes because he’s just so relieved to see that you’re ok.

Mark:

I feel like Mark wouldn’t really know what to do either. Like he’s still fairly young but he knows what it’s like to be under a lot of pressure so he’d be good at understanding, he’d just be a bit confused in the comforting part.

Would probably awkwardly sit next to you and put his arm over your shoulders to bring you closer to him.

Wouldn’t really know what to say so he wouldn’t talk for a while, just rub your back comfortingly while you cry and tell him everything.

After you’re done there would be a while of silence before Mark speaks because he’s trying to decide what to say

“I’m here ok? I love you and you can bring your problems to me if you ever need to”

Xiao-Jun:

Like the other two new members (and everyone in NCT let’s be honest), he’s an absolute crack-head. But I feel like he’s the least crack-headed out of the three of them.

Would probably hold your hand tightly or rub your back. I feel like he’s not the type to pull you into his arms or lap but he still cares just as deeply for you as any other NCT member would.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me, we’ll work through this together”

Like Ten, he would sing for you but only if you asked him to, if you didn’t he’d just stay with you until you’ve calmed down and then would ask questions about what he can do and what led up to this.

Hendery:

Potentially one of the most crack-headed like in NCT along with Ten but if he saw you crying his mood would drop instantly and he’d be a lot more soft-spoken so he doesn’t startle you.

Would give you the biggest hug and just stay like that for the longest time until you had stopped crying enough to speak properly.

Patient as hell when he needs to be so he would literally wait for however long it took you to talk whether it was 10 minutes or 2 hours. He’d wait for you to talk first so you could go at your pace and you wouldn’t feel like you were being rushed. 

“It’s ok, you don’t need to rush. Just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll stay like this for however long it takes, you don’t need to worry”

Would want to make you smile so would do something like offer you to dance with him once you’ve let everything out if you’re feeling up to it.

Renjun:

Out of all the Dreamies, probably the one that’s the most careful with you and treats you the softest.

Would lower his voice a lot and speak quietly to you in hopes that it would calm you down. He would probably feel a bit self-conscious about not knowing what to do in this type of situation since he’s still young so he would apologize often.

“Sorry I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ll always be here though”

People make him out to be a bully but really he’s the biggest softie and cares so much about everyone close to him. Would sing if you asked him to but not otherwise.

With skinship he’d probably sit in front of you and grab both your hands and look you in the eyes; not really one to pull your body towards him.

Jeno:

All the Dreamies are inexperienced but Jeno would probably be the most confident when something like this happens.

Definitely the type of person to pull you into a hug or into his lap because he’s a softie. Would hold your hand too probably and wait for you to calm down and then ask if you’re ok and what happened.

“Are you ok? You should’ve come to me sooner”

Would give his full attention to listening to your worries and would rub his hand on your back or his thumb over the back of your hand if he was holding it subconsciously.

Haechan:

This cocky boy would be completely lost if he found you on the floor crying. He would instantly want to know what’s going on and why you’re crying. Not very patient but it’s because he loves you and needs to know what happened as soon as possible so he can try to fix it.

Would be a bit nervous and mentally decided to go ask his hyungs for advice for the next time this happens, but of course, he wouldn’t just leave you there so he’d have to go without the advice of his hyungs this one time.

“What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”

He’d start asking questions straight away but wouldn’t expect an answer until you’ve calmed down. He is FULLY ready to fight someone if they hurt you. Would probably sing a bit without you asking to help you calm down.

Would grab your hands, maybe caress your face depending on how touchy he’s feeling. Definitely trying his best.

Jaemin:

Would be seriously so heart-broken if he saw you having a mental breakdown. He’d instantly run up to you and envelope you in the biggest hug, rocking you back and forth to calm you down

Would treat you really softly like Renjun and caress your face a lot, wiping your tears away. He’s patient so he’d wait as long as it takes for you to calm down before he starts speaking.

“You know how much I love you and care for you, right? I’m always here for you”

Would stay with you and listen to everything you had to say until you fell asleep in his arms. Wouldn’t even move after you fell asleep. He’d just continue cuddling you, treating you like the prince/princess you are.

Yanyang:

He may not be in NCT Dream but he’s still just as young as all the other members and would still be a tiny bit confused.

Would probably ask Kun for advice for the next time this happens like Haechan but wouldn’t just leave you there. Would probably hug you but wouldn’t pull you into his lap or anything like that.

He’d wait until you stop crying, probably rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand to comfort you.

“What happened? Do you want me to do anything for you?”

He’d sit and listen and would probably go get some blankets or ice-cream as well. Would take care of you and make sure you’re ok. Would definitely want to make you smile but wouldn’t push it.

Chenle:

A little baby ok. Would be SO confused and would have absolutely NO idea what to do. He wouldn’t know anything except for the fact that seeing you cry was making his heart hurt like hell.

Would go up to you and look you in the eyes, his lips would probably be trembling and he’d grab your hand, just saying the first thing that comes to mind.

“Are you ok? Why are you crying?”

His voice would be 100x quieter than usual but he wouldn’t even be doing it on purpose, it’s quiet because he’s super sad after seeing you sad and really wants to see you happy again. 

Would listen to everything you say intently, nodding his head to show he understands. After you’ve stopped talking he’d give you encouragement and he’d either start to sing on his own or only sing if you asked him to depending on his mood.

Jisung:

by FAR the least confident when it comes to something like this. He’s still really young and innocent. Really, he would just freeze up for a few second when he first saw you.

Once he got over the initial shock, he’d walk up to you slowly and probably grab both your hands while awkwardly looking you in your tear-filled eyes.

Would be super self-conscious about not knowing what to do like Renjun and would keep apologizing.

“Are you ok? I’m sorry, really. What happened?”

Would listen and nod like Chenle when listening to your problems and would squeeze your hand a lot.

[bored-devil-blog]

Facelift Procedures In The Santa Barbara Cosmetic Surgery Center

Find Out About Facelift Surgery

You do not need to leave your young great Appears behind as you get older. At the hands of an experienced, board certified cosmetic surgeon, then you are able to counteract the effects of gravity and time and revive the naturally vivid look you recall from years before, or perhaps tackle the premature signs of aging before they take hold. Find out more about facelift operation beneath.

What's Facelift Surgery?

Facelift operation lifts and companies sagging facial Cells to revive a naturally young facial appearance. It's frequently said that using a facelift functions to"turn the clock back " helping a man seem just like a younger version of herself or him. By eliminating excess, sagging skin, hammering deep flashes, and tightening and lifting the facial cells, a facelift operation can enable a patient seem not just younger, however, only"better"

volume. Finally, this leads to"jowls" about the face, deep wrinkles, and loose skin around the throat. Even though this is a normal part of growing elderly, patients that are bothered with these symptoms of aging might come across a facelift for a fantastic alternative. If some of the following describe you, then a facelift is an Choice to think about:

· You are feeling self-conscious concerning the way your neck & face Seem because of sagging skin

· You use turtlenecks and pliers maybe because You Would like to, but since You Would like to conceal your aging throat

· If you see your reflection, you Believe That your own face makes you seem more older than you believe

· You Believe That an aging look is negatively impacting your livelihood or personal connections

Adhering to a facelift, most patients often undergo an upsurge in Self-confidence, because their look portrays their healthy, lively vibe.

A facelift can Provide you a look at much better Reflects your lively self.

Facelift surgery is a Intricate process That Needs extensive knowledge In facial skin, a very special skill group of surgical methods, and also a highly-developed eye for aesthetic detail. Not all doctors who practice cosmetic surgery get training in facelift operation in their livelihood training, therefore it is very important to do your homework before choosing a facelift surgeon.

When consulting potential cosmetic surgeons, inquire about Their particular training and expertise in facial cosmetic surgery. Additionally, discover the number of facelift processes every has completed, and make sure you check at lots of before and after photographs throughout your appointment --this can let you to get a sense of a cosmetic surgeon's aesthetic fashion. Men contemplating facelift operation should make certain that a cosmetic surgeon has expertise doing facelifts for male patients; the body of the face is distinctive from a female's and demands a knowledgable strategy. Is especially trained and trained cosmetic surgery, such as facelift methods, and your process will be done in a licensed surgical centre

Kinds of Facelifts

Facelift surgery is personalized to your patient's requirements, and also a decorative Surgeon will tailor their techniques so.

Mini-Facelift Superior candidates to get a mini-facelift. It can be a less invasive procedure which permits a cosmetic surgeon to twist deep facial cells through shorter incisions, so generally found across the hairline over each ear or from the normal creases enclosing the ear. Through these incisions, both structural cells around the cheeks have been raised and tightened to fix jowling, refine the jawline, and then reestablish a"tired" look.

Based on the situation, a mini-facelift could be achieved with local Anesthesia with sedation or general anesthesia; the cosmetic surgeon may suggest the best alternative for your unique needs. A mini-facelift is able to help you address undesirable signs of aging before they become overly conspicuous, postponing the requirement for broader surgery for several decades.

Standard Facelift

A conventional or"conventional" facelift will fully address mild to Advanced aging round the mid-face and throat. While the operation is much more extensive than people to get a mini-facelift, and consequently more recovery period is necessary, the results are more striking. During incisions situated behind the back, beginning close to the woods, and round the front part of the ear, then concealed in the folds that are natural, then a cosmetic surgeon may reposition the cells under the skin and eliminate extra skin into smooth creases, remove jowling and sagging skin below the chin, also revive a naturally youthful contour to your face and throat.

The Precise procedure a cosmetic surgeon utilizes throughout a facelift Depends on a range of factors, such as a patient's body and individual objectives, the degree of the facelift (miniature vs. standard), and also whether another process has been done at exactly the exact same moment. Facelifts are generally performed with general anesthesia, although local anesthesia with sedation might be utilised in some less rigorous processes.

After creating the first incisions, then skin is separated from The underlying connective tissues and tissue. This permits the cosmetic surgeon to replicate the facial tissues, eliminate the jowls and make a firmer basis for the epidermis. Then, extra skin has been removed, and the rest of the skin is laid back on the recently revitalized facial cells, giving the face a smoother, more youthful shape without over-tightening skin.

It is not uncommon to listen to the term"facelift" employed when speaking to Any sort of facial rejuvenation operation, also a great deal of individuals believe a facelift involves working on the whole face--eyebrow, eyes, chin and lips. That is clear; after allyour forehead and eyes are a part of your face also. But a facelift in its only covers the reduced two thirds of their face the cheeks and jawline.

Why is this true? It's largely because of differences in body. Skin, muscles and other cells across the eyebrow and enclosing the uterus are extremely different, and aesthetic operation to every one of the areas requires a totally different set of methods than those used over the course of a facelift.

It's Typical for individuals to opt to get an eyebrow lift, Eyebrow lift or neck contouring in precisely the exact same time for a facelift, however, in such situations, a cosmetic surgeon will in fact be doing two distinct processes in a single operation. Similarly, patients who just wish to deal with aging around the neck or eyes can typically reach their aims with just a pillow lift or neck lift, rather than a facelift.

Life Following a Facelift

A facelift is a Intricate process requiring excellent surgical ability, However, the recovery method is surprisingly fast for many patients. Patients usually return to normal daily activities after around fourteen days (strenuous exercise will have to wait approximately 4 months ) after a normal facelift, and those time frames are typically even briefer following a facelift. As every individual heals a bit otherwise, the cosmetic surgeon can provide you comprehensive directions for aftercare and coming back to action.

Among the primary issues patients have after a facelift is the way that Shortly they'll seem presentable following their processes, and understandably so -- like a body or breast process, as an instance, you cannot readily cover the region with clothes. Bruising and swelling are normal following a facelift, and also is in their peak about two days after operation. Following that, swelling and bruising will slowly get better, and needs to be hard to note after roughly 10 to 14 days. Your cosmetic surgeon may advise you about if it's safe to put on camouflage cosmetics.

Since you ease back to a regular following a facelift, it is especially Important to maintain your face shielded from sunlight. You'll be prone to sunburn for many weeks following operation, plus remaining from sunlight will help scars cure as promptly as possible. Put on a wide-brimmed coat and use sunscreen frequently.

How Can Facelift Outcomes Look Over the Long Term? Facelift is intended to achieve results which doesn't only seem natural today, but may also age naturally alongside you. While nothing could stop the aging process, following a facelift you need to always appear years younger than you'd have with no operation.

But, There Are Particular things you can do to maintain your Results looking their finest. Keeping a healthy, steady weight is significant as important weight changes can lead to skin to stretch again. You also ought to embrace an experienced, quality skincare regimen to help keep your skin healthy and shielded against unnecessary aging.

When done by an experienced cosmetic surgeon, facelift operation is A safe process and a superb approach to rejuvenate your physical appearance. 

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[akelyokikagu]

Shower Realisation

Sometimes, what makes you realise love is not your heart nor your brain. Okita realised it now, after seeing Kagura, after two long years of longing and waiting. However, this girl was clueless as always, perhaps this small accident under the shower would help?

Okita was slightly disappointed when he had to go and ask Mutsu for this favour; because apparently, the Chinese female wouldn't deign to come back properly. Even though it had been well past two years since he last saw her, he still remembered their promise very well. She couldn't lose to anyone but him, and he would protect Edo when the Shinsengumi are away.

Which is why, after their fight with Utsuro, that girl decided to run off to space for her stupid mutt and left him without words. Even back then, had he not gone to find her at the bridge they would be without farewell and while they weren't really known as friends he thought she'd be smarter than that. Their rivalry mattered, perhaps even more than he wanted to admit and it was too late to regret the fact he cared for this idiot. He was without her for two years and his body was dull, life was so damn boring when she wasn't there to prank on. He realised that China had become part of his life, without her it wouldn't be the same. And after two years he was even sure that he couldn't bear that.

He sounded like a hopeless romantic. He seriously wanted to puke, and he was going to— maybe on her when she decides to return home.

Because Edo was her home. Not any other planet, nor space and the universe. She had a whole lot of family, friends and idiots to welcome her and she was late. So, as a good friend he brought her back.

Even something this simple, the redhead couldn't do. When he saw the child-figure instead of his favourite rival he bit back his anger, that girl had always been so shameless and confident— why would she change that while growing up? She certainly had become shy with time, refusing to come back as 'Kagura' but instead lying to everyone's faces that she was her daughter.

Ha, as if that gorilla could get knocked up. As if she could, Okita was irritated. He never liked complicated stuff. This was partly why he got along with China: she was simple and frank, she didn't beat around the bush.

So he wasn't going to, either.

Shinpachi looked at him like he was a madman but Okita didn't care, he lunged at this brat who was being even more idiotic than usual today. He gave her plenty of chances to admit her wrongdoings; asked her who was the dad and if it were the boss (blegh). He even went as far as leaving his pride and talked honestly to her; he missed her. He cared for her. Their relationship mattered.

Was this gorilla of a female still as clueless as back then? She acted like he didn't say anything important and still refused to show herself, so he went to the next step and injured a little bit Shinpachi. It was then that she appeared, finally.

He would be lying if he didn't say he wasn't expecting something. That girl had become sixteen, a fully fledged woman for them and he was twenty, a fully fledged man. The hormones may be striking, but for the first time he found a female striking besides his sister. Mitsuba was a loving woman, elegant, poised and soft-spoken and being his sister automatically made her someone he'd respect.

China, on the other hand, was different.

"That girl is finally back," he mumbled to himself with a grin he couldn't stop from stretching all over his face. Her face had become a lot sharper than back then, losing all its baby fat, and so were her eyes. Blue as ever. He was almost sad upon noticing how tall she was now, reaching beyond his shoulders. Here he thought he grew tall enough so she wouldn't call him a chihuahua anymore.

Then her kick came, right into his stomach. Her strength had grown as well, but he didn't it coming.

Why the hell did she wear such… skin-showing clothes? He got it. She was a fighter and needed comfortable clothes to kick asses but why was her short so short?

"Bugh!" He was sent into a wall. His back was hurting. No, his whole body was aching but his brain was certainly melting.

Upon kicking him, Kagura had revealed milky white legs, toned and deliciously smooth to him and he couldn't help but stare a bit. He was a healthy young man of twenty years, after all.

That girl— or rather, woman, had grown some assets after all. She properly looked like a female, not that he didn't acknowledge it before but her younger-self wasn't exactly raised by women and had very wrong ideas as to how to show her femininity.

He glanced back at Shinpachi, almost relieved that the forever-virgin boy had not stared indecently at her like he did. Then, almost with a laugh, he said that their 'beloved brat' had come back, not before he personally welcomed her before of course.

Though, she was anything but a brat now.

Because both of them were in the search of the boss, Okita decided to not say anything unrelated. His purpose was not only to get China but also bring the Yorozuya together so they, the Shinsengumi, would be able to fight by their side again. Him, by her side.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

It was late at night, they were staying at the Yorozuya as China had nowhere to stay at, and him too. At least, that was what he told her and she didn't think more of his words. For a young woman she wasn't exactly careful, he frowned, didn't he realise that she was spending the whole night with a man? Or did she not see him as a man? The latter was very likely; even though he had known since the start that China was a girl and considered her as such, she never acted like he was a proper male. Perhaps it was the time for her to learn.

Suddenly, mental images invaded his brain. Some quite indecent, at that, and Okita groaned as he never had to fight those urges before. There were a lot of time where the Shinsengumi members would venture to Yoshiwara, as they couldn't bring females to compounds the crew would have some fun with courtesans. He sometimes followed, curious or bored, but never found the need to do it in the end. He'd stop at making them bark like dogs.

Kagura, who was sitting not far from him on the couch closed in the distance and hit his head. Hard.

"What?" He angrily asked, part of him wondering if her womanly sensors finally caught on the train of dirty thought he was having about her.

"You looked like you wanted to die, I thought I'd help you out. Returning the favour," she said with a blank face, before returning her attention to the TV. Kagura had already taken a shower and he could smell the sweet scent drifting from her, what did she use? This was why he sat further from her, it was so damn tempting. Everything was so damn tempting, the way her wet hair stuck at her, her flushed skin or how the top was slightly transparent because of the water.

"Yeah, I kind of want to die right now," he whispered. "I'll go take a shower."

"Uh-uh," she nodded. "You can use my shampoo if you want. You stink of blood, Sadist."

"Geez, thank you China. I feel really loved by you."

He left the room, definitely believing that a cold shower was to be. Besides, she wasn't entirely wrong and their fight made him smell like a mix of sweat, dust and blood.

The cold drops on his body felt good and cooled him in more than one way. He wondered whether all his feelings came from pure lust or something else and if that something else hadn't rooted itself in his heart three years ago. When he was eighteen he didn't care about such things, did not think about the future. Meeting China was a life-changer because for once there was someone of his age able to keep up with him and make the child in him come out. She did not treat him like a captain or a killer but just like any boy she met.

Okita realised that his feelings toward his rival may go far beyond those of a friend or an ally, but something much deeper. He felt it when she was away, and he was feeling it now she came back.

"Shit," he didn't know if he should cry or laugh or both at the same time. He was sure to fund a family a day or another in his life, but not with that woman. Then again everything seemed to make sense, ever since she appeared in his life she had supported him when nobody else could. She was the only person who would read him so easily. The fact that he was getting aware of her presence made it more obvious to him; he had it for her.

He was in love with China girl.

"I thought Kondo-san and Hijikata-san would be the only fools," he laughed softly.

"Sadist?" The voice that made his heart jump echoed through the door, "Are you okay? You've been there for a long time."

Okita was too startled to answer and then hear one knock. Then a loud noise, as Kagura had apparently broken something to enter the room. The steam was vanishing and his skin was tingling with the sudden breeze, but most of all, he was stark naked as Kagura entered the room.

"Did you faint or somethi—"

Her eyes fell on him. Then, lowered progressively as he was very much frozen.

"Oh."

What did that mean?

Kagura's face went from pale to red as she looked away, mumbling something like apologies and closed (what remained of) the door. If her steps were any indication, she was dashing to her closet.

"What the hell just happened?" Okita felt at loss and went out of the shower. He quickly dried himself and put on a tank top and a short, but then hesitated to go and sleep in the bathroom. How should he face her? She had seen him under all angles… And more, it was embarrassing. He felt self-conscious and squirmed in horror that the girl he realised he loved, just saw all of him. At least, he wasn't too shabby.

With a heavy sigh, Okita walked out of the room and messed his hair. After reaching the bedroom, he knocked at the closet's door.

"Oi China, come out."

Silence.

"Just so you know, this is your fault."

She didn't look like she wanted to speak to him, and this was exactly the best timing for him to confess the feeling he had discovered for her. So, Okita wished her good night and prepared his own futon before sliding into it. It was so awkward he wanted to die.

"Are you sleeping?" A small voice came from the closet.

"Nah."

"...I just wanted to say goodnight too, Do-S. Tomorrow, let's act as if nothing happened."

Okita was tempted to accept her proposition, but in the end, he smirked and laughed "Oh no you don't. I hope you enjoyed what you saw."

"What?! You damn pervert!"

"You were the one to open the door and peek China," he teased her until she went silent again.

As much as he was embarrassed by the whole thing, it certainly brought a positive change. There was no contest now that China was aware of him being a male.

And he had a lot more in his pocket to show her.

[funkymbtifiction]

My experience as an ENFP 1w9 p6w5 2w3 sp/so

SUBMITTED by filvet

[Gif: Vincent from The Originals, a 162 ENFP.]

I’ve been a fan of funkyMBTIfiction for a while now, but I’ve never submitted anything more than a few asks (maybe more than a few LOL), because… well, give me a few minutes and you’ll find out yourselves.

Let’s start with my core type: I’m a 1. Even though I’m an ENFP, and finding this out has been SO hard, for both me and some of the mods, I’ve never had any doubts about me belonging to this type since first reading its description. I ALWAYS see how the things around me could be better, I’ve got some very strong morals (1 and Fi work very much in tandem in this case) and, even if I’m a Ne-dom, I’m much more grounded and focused than your usual ENXP, which explains why, when I took those really inaccurate online tests, I always got INTJ or ISTJ for my MBTI type.

Did I mention that being a 1 is hard as heck? It is, because those two small letters that represent my instinctual variant, “sp”, mean that my inner critic is much harsher on myself than on others. Things around me could be better, sure, but I am the one whom I should really work on. I made a single mistake on that test, shame on me. I haven’t become a perfect guitarist in the two months I’ve played, better drop the instrument altogether since it’s not worth it (meaning, I’m not worth it). I even get frustrated about the fact that my blood analysis, which are those of a completely healthy young man, usually have a single value that is slightly off, even if it means nothing for my health.

And then there’s my wing, which is both a gift and a curse. 9 brings a certain warmness and peacefulness to 1 and its ever present annoyance at an imperfect world, which has helped me to not be hated by all my friends for pointing out even minor details that are off. Being a 1w9 means that when other people are involved, I’ll probably get frustrated for three seconds, then I’ll swallow the anger and be chill about it. They don’t get the full blast of 1’s critical voice, only I do. But there are two problems that come along with this wing: one is that I find myself not even trying stuff because I know I won’t be perfect at it. This usually happens with physical activities, like sports: “It’d be cool to play volleyball, it’s a nice sport” “Buuut… You know you suck at sports” “Ok, I guess I won’t play volleyball, then.” And sadly, with 9 being just a wing, it can’t override 1, so even if it would be just for fun and it wouldn’t matter if I sucked or not, I can’t bring myself to just live in the moment and enjoy it without much thought.

The other problem is one that I’ve already briefly mentioned: the 9 wing makes me swallow my anger. So we have my core type that is ashamed of anger because it doesn’t fit its idealistic world, and a wing that is too chill to get angry. So, I swallow my anger and puff, it seemingly vanishes. It would be nice if it worked like this, wouldn’t it? Instead, it becomes self-loathing and awful self-esteem, something that I’ve battled most of my life, especially after being bullied during middle school. During those times, when I probably was disintegrating to 4, I was extremely fragile, like, everything could hurt me, and hence I tried as much as I could to differentiate myself from the rest of my peers. But how did I do that? Trying to be as perfect as possible at the one thing that I was already good at: school. See? Still a 1 deep down.

Also, for all my life I’ve reckoned to be on a journey of self-improvement, which is something that is quite common in ENFPs with a core 1, apparently.

Let’s add the rest of the fixes to the mix, shall we? I’m quite sure about the second, p6w5. I debated about 5w6 for a while, but while I was a bit “brainy” and intellectual when I was younger, that was more an effect of the behavior I put forth to battle bullying than the actual way my brain works. Instead, the more time passes the more I recognize I’m quite the anxious wreck. Obviously, university and exams are stressful for anybody, but p6 brings that anxiety to another level. I’m often so anxious that I respond to stress with a wide variety of physical symptoms, which is quite unpleasant. But even as a child, I remember seeing my schoolmates play “dangerous” games like climbing on trees (I know, so dangerous) and all I could think about was them falling and getting hurt. That played perfectly into my core 1, making me all moralistic about it and turning me into the perfect child/miniature of an adult that I’ve been for practically all of my childhood. The combination of p6 and 1 makes me worry that I’ll never be able to integrate to 7 (see? I’m so anxious that I worry I’ll never not worry. Please send help).

I’m much less sure about my last fix, and I’ve debated all three of the Image types. I see parts of myself in all three of those (thanks, Ne), but ultimately I’d say I’m a 2w3. Helping others has always made me feel very accomplished, but I won’t deny that I sometimes do it not just for the pleasure of doing but to be liked and win somebody’s affection. At last, we have the minuscule 3 wing to the last fix, which is only present in my desire to look put together and accomplished and in how I use competition with those who are clearly better than me at something to motivate myself to improve and reach their level.

To sum it up, what does it mean to be an ENFP 1w9 p6w5 2w3 sp/so? It means I have a grounded and perfectionistic mind, that if necessary can focus and pay attention even to minor details, but it must be a conscious effort and as soon as I stop doing consciously I go back to being the forgetful mess I usually am; it means I’m an anxious person who thinks the situation is going to end badly and won’t know how to take that mental image out of his brain. It means I’m one of the warmest and friendliest 1s you could ever encounter, thanks to 9, 6, 2 and the second instinctual variant being so, that I’ll be fair if you ever come to me asking for advice and I’ll be extremely happy to help you. When dealing with me, respect my values, remember I can see through your lies, even those you tell yourself, keep in mind how harsh I can be with myself and soothe my anxiety without belittling it. Or don’t do any of these things, I am my own responsibility after all, and I’ll deal with my weaknesses till I fix them.

[reddeaddenial]

A, G, and S for the boiiisssszzz (I'm sorry if its long setdfyguhij)

Nonono dont apologize, i loooove answering long questions like this! It really makes me think about my ocs and helps develop them more! 

 ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

A: Aptitude1. what are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young?

Nick has always had very quick reflexes. They most likely developed while he was pushing himself to get stronger when he was recovering from his childhood illness. Or maybe they were there all along and he finally had a healthy body to show for it. This of course carried over into him quickly being able to point and shoot, engage quickly with enemies. He’s got terrific aim, but that’s something he’s practiced with over the years. 

Leo is just… Leo. He understands and learns very quickly even from a young age. He learned to read very well early in life and impressed his tutors with his quick knowledge of math. He just retains everything like a sponge. Buuut he comes off simple because of his lack of understanding of social interactions. But i think the most natural ability he has is his way of thinking strategically. He’s been beating his brothers at chess for yeaaars lol And he’s been a massive help to his old gang leader when helping plan out robberies. 

Theo is a natural charmer. he’s been able to tell since he could talk who and what he can get away with by reading the situation in a room. That only got better the older he got. He became the trio’s negotiator for most things. Hell surprisingly he’s the one that knows more than one language!

2. what activities have they participated in?

I’m not really sure what this is defining as activities. So I’ll just go with the RDR2 theme of it. Target contests for sure wit Nick, I bet he’s one quite a bit of cash at those. Leo has gone and done several horse races and hasn’t done too bad there. Theo on multiple occasions has gotten an entire saloon shitfaced and basically they become big parties and everyone having a great time and Theo is gettin’ the juiciest gossip about new places and stores to rob. >:3

3. what abilities do they have that they’ve worked for?

Nick it’s his aim. Before the outlaw life, they were all pretty sheltered and weren’t around lots of guns and such, so while he had the natural reflexes of a gunslinger, he hadn’t the aim. that was built up over lots of hard work and determination to protect his brother. He became pretty adept at it roughly 3 years in. He had to be, for them to survive. He also had to work to learn to cook for him and his brothers. Living on the road, they didn’t know much about food. It was a lot of trial and error, lots of food poisoning lol But now hes the best cook among the three, which isnt saying too much, but he at least knows how to season venison lol. 

Leo had definitely had to work with his ability to shoot a gun, or use weapons in general. He learned the gun out of necessity thanks to Nick’s coaxing, but he’s surprisingly more comfortable throwing axes than using guns lol. He’s just just honestly the most uneasy around guns because of the business they had with their dad and the trio shooting him, even if it was on accident. 

Theo had to work a lot with his knife throwing and just knives in general. He’;s got a lot of visible scars littered about his hands from a lot of failed attempts from some bullshit or another. But he’s gun a lot of dumb luck, like he’d throw a knife at an enemy and the handle hits the man instead of the blade. BUT he hit it so hard and in the back of the head, the guy goes unconscious instead lol

4. what things are they bad at?

Lol Oh man, so much. Like mentioned before, the other two boys cant cook for shit. They gotta live off of canned food or leftovers if Nick’s not around. Nick can’t patch up his own clothes, he sucks at sewing, just gets confused at what he’s looking at, one time he sewed the sleeve of his shirt completely shut, that had Theo and Leo in hysterics at his own expense. Leo as we know isn’t good with communicating well with others. He either comes off stupid or  arrogant to strangers, neither is a good scenario. Theo in particular, sucks at stakeouts, or just waiting around doing nothing, he gets very fidgety and wants to talk. So he’s been forced to find ways to entertain himself with like a book or playing cats cradle

5. what is their most impressive talent?

For Nick it’s definitely his gunslinging. He’s quite proud of how well he can shoot. 

For Theo, probably his medical work. He’s very quick and knows where to cute, and get you nice and buzzed on booze so it’s not too bad. He’s gone as so quickly to remove a bullet, sanitize, stitch and wrap a wound in less than ten minutes, he’s got it down to an art, it’s like removing a splinter to him lol

Leo it would be his brilliant plans. Like he may be quiet, but he is the most sly and creative of the group. I won’t go in too much detail cuz I have some great ideas he’s gonna implement in future chapters. But his brain is gonna have people go ‘well shit why havent we thought of that sooner?’ >:3c

G: Gorgeous

1. what is their most attractive external feature?

The twins like to tease that it’s Nick’s babyface and blonde hair. He just scowls and yanks them down into a headlock lmao. But honestly all the boys got those pretty ‘Teale Green’ eyes, that draw people in. 

2. what is the most attractive part of their personality?

Theo’s is his humor and empathy with others. Leo’s is… well I guess some people would be into the quiet listener type? Nick well… honestly he’s a bit prickly but he has some good morals underneath all that. I think the best part of his personality is standing up and protecting others I suppose. :p

3. what benefits come with being their friend?

Oh boy well basically you get the infinite protection of these three. They’re loyal to a fault and will back you up in any situation. When they bond to people, it’s family. And you treat family right. Of course with that, you gotta put up with Theo’s shenanigans, Leo desperately wanting someone else to thrash at chess, and Nick’s paranoid grumpy ass. But they’re good boys who treat their friends right. ;w; 

4. what parts of them do they like and dislike?

Theo hates that he cares too much about what people think, he can be easily antagonized sometimes because of it. He also has his moments where he just gets into this depressive spiral about how they’ve turned into murderers and thieves and his brothers gotta shake him outa it. He does like how tall he is though, it impresses the ladies and works for a good intimidation tactic :p Leo sometimes hates how identical he and Theo are, because people mistake him for Theo and get weird about how different and quiet he acts, he gets very self conscious about it some days, but hes usually ok. But in the same thought process, its something that he also likes about himself that he and Theo are identical. Idk its a bit of a crisis for him lol

Nick has some Arthur Moods™ when it comes to himself. He looks younger and smaller compared to his brothers some days, he hates the scar on his nose, reminds him of his dear ol dad who put it there, gets kinda self conscious about it too. One thing he suppose he likes about himself is his hair. Little secret, but he keeps good care of that shit, keep it nice and soft, will sometimes tie it back too. The twins tease him on occasion but not too much, else he’ll hide it all under a hat lol

5. what parts of others do they envy?

Nick of course envies his brother’s heights a lot, envies anyone who’s taller than him really. He also just envies people who can just be so carefree even in the darkest of time. He just hyperfixates on the worst a lot. 

Theo envies Nick’s ability to shoot and hunt. They’re useful skills to have as an outlaw that he just hasn’t mastered too well. But at least he’s got his knives! :) Leo envies anyone who can just speak their mind to others so easily. How can they condense all their thoughts into just a few sentences? How do they flawlessly move through unspoken social etiquette? It’s a mystery Leo wishes one day he too will understand.  

S: Streets1. are they street-smart?

They definitely weren’t at first! Sheltered boys practically caged up on their father’s property, only learning about the real world after they shot the man? Yeah they had a lot of learning to do and they learned through a lot of mistake son their part. But ten years have come and gone and they’re definitely a lot more street smart now. 

2. would they give money to someone on the streets?

Probably, they know how that life is like. That first year on their own was very rough on them and they sympathize with the normal poor citizens having more morals than themselves to not go robbing people like they did. 

3. have they ever gotten in a fight on the streets?

Oh definitely! Sometime Theo’s placating nature just riles up people more and shit happens. But he’s got his brothers to back him up. Also on that note, someone trying to mess with Nick and Nick being the unsociable cactus that he is, makes things worse. Next thing you know, someone pulls out a knife and Nick’s curb stomping the guy who called him girly. Y’know, shit happens. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

4. has anything happened to them on the streets?

Lmao see above. 

5. are they cautious when out?

They’re always cautious thanks to Nick’s incessant lectures about watching their backs and always being aware of the law.