#the owners were very very sweet and also a little unaware that their dogs were being spicy lol

[sidetongue]

look at hims dancy legs

[sadachmesarthim]

C-cowboy starker? What if cowboy starker, I mean? I think... cattle driver Tony maybe, and ranch hand Peter,,, always wanted to write about this but I’m shy 🙈

mid-writing edit: i’ve spent half an hour on this and my computer is literally lagging with how fast i’m typing. i really hope this makes sense because holy shit, i love cowboy starker. anon, i need you in my inbox every single fucking time you have an idea about starker. idk if it’s in passing, idk if it’s super fleeting and doesn’t make sense. anon, you are my muse

ohhhhh my god anon i ,, love this idea so much i’ve actually thought about this a bit ngl you don’t even know how much i like western aus

okay so hear me out:

i’m thinking brokeback type shit, right?? but just a tad different like be honest who doesn’t like the whole bbm trope yfm and twink jake gyllenhaal is my baby okay okay okay sorry babe i’m still crossfaded as fuck and i could talk about that movie for days anyway back on topic

- no okay but think of it - tony, he’s recently divorced and morgan, his baby girl, his one and only daughter, she’s 19 now and seeing this absolute gentleman of a roughneck. his house is empty, he isn’t paying child support anymore, he doesn’t have this bitchy redhead on his ass 24/7 about getting a job in the city

- because tony hates the city, hates that his father dragged them away from the mountains and prairies he remembers from his childhood. hates what the city gave him - black eyes and mean names and disappointed parents

- so tony high tailed it the fuck out of dodge the second he turned 18. abandoned school, abandoned his family, took his beat up ford out to montana and disappeared. married this nice girl, virginia pepper, worked construction to support her while she went to school. had a pretty baby girl a year or two later. moved both of his girls out to a ranch he bought with their tiny savings, got a couple’a cows and a horse and made friends with a neighbor with a bull

- but eventually, pep had bigger dreams. they were both young when they got married, didn’t look past the immediate sexual compatibility to see that their futures were well and truly not going to go well together

- so she left the ranch, took morgan with, and made her way to the city. became some big lawyer or doctor or businesswoman or something, tony didn’t know. didn’t really care because the child support invoices still came every single month like clockwork. 

- so instead of focusing on his distant daughter and his ex wife that wouldn’t listen to him and his family that just... didn’t understand, he threw himself into the wildlife around him

- became closer with those neighbors that had a bull. eventually came to an agreement and let him free with his girls

- built a very solid herd of highlanders in a handful of years, slowly attracting the attention of more and more owners wanting to trade, to buy, to sell 

- and maybe one year, he realizes, he’s in a bit too far over his head with this. he has 100 of these four legged fuckers, he has 50 acres to take care of by himself, he has horses to feed and shoe and groom. he has fields to plant and water and harvest if he wants to feed any of the animals mentioned above

- so he reaches out to his neighbors, puts feelers out and sees if anyone knows a farmhand who’d want to help him out, maybe live on the property full time for a bit. and when he gets a call back his heart breaks a bit, because oh my god he wasn’t prepared for this

- a kid, can’t have been more than morgan’s age, has responded to him, and he’s good with his hands mr. stark, and he knows his way around animals mr. stark, been takin’ care of ‘em for his whole life now mr. stark 

- and this kid is ,, he sounds so innocent and sweet there’s no way tony’s gonna say yes before he actually meets him 

- so tony gives the kid his address, tells him to come out and give things a once over before he makes his mind up

- so peter does. he comes out, introduces himself, looks around the property with tony. and tonys heart hurts, because this kid, this kid that’s standing right in front of him, is almost skin and bones and looks like he’s about to crumble into dust and blow away in his hands

- he brings peter into the house, brings him coffee, offers him food. even after peter politely declines he brings over some bread to share, maybe a slice of pie?? maybe tony can cook and bake. he has a sweet tooth after all, and he’s been on his own for the better part of two decades. 

- and he really gets to know peter. they sit, they talk, until the sun dips down and the open mountain chill takes over them

- and peter tells him that he’s been on his own for a couple of years, that his parents died when he was young and that his aunt and uncle took him in on their ranch. that he grew up around animals, working, helping out

- but when they died the property was repossessed by the bank and peter’d all but ran with ben’s keys and the clothes on his back. he’s been on the road ever since, going from missouri to texas to wyoming to montana, all in search of work, never staying in one place longer than a few months. 

- he doesn’t tell tony that he’s secretly so, so tired of life on the road. doesn’t say how elated he was when he heard someone was looking for a fairly long-term live in farm hand. because that’s something he knew, something he was good at. 

- he also doesn’t tell tony that his heart skipped several beats in a row the second peter laid eyes on him, and that he really wants to work for the gorgeous man in front of him

- it’s finally dark, his coffee cup is long empty and abandoned and peter’s just spilled nearly every single deep dark secret he’s ever had. tony’s closing the windows, and peter makes for the door. he’s taken up enough of this beautiful kind man’s time, he should leave before he stays even further past his welcome

- but tony’s stopping him, blocking him from the door, lightly grabbing his wrist and turning peter to face him fully

- and he’s asking begging pleading  telling peter he should stay, that the spare room upstairs is warm and not going to be used anytime soon. that he still needs a farmhand and, as he sees it, peter’s already here

- secretly, tony can’t stand to see him leave

- he couldn’t handle letting his man this... kid, really, leave. not when tony could provide for him. not when he could feed him until his edges soften and his cheeks round out and his tummy gets squishy. not when he could work him into a sweat outside, watch that paperwhite skin turn a rich tan under the summer sun

- not even when he realizes the sudden care for the orphan in front of him is slowly becoming less familial, less platonic, and more... instinctual. base. greedy. 

- because who better to make sure this kid is looked after than tony? tony, who has work-worn hands and time-softened eyes and cooking skills any bachelor would die for

- it’s honestly not even that shocking to him when peter says yes

- not when he takes his hand off the doorknob and immediately turns, immediately breathes out a “yes, yes of course mr. stark, thank you so much mr. stark, i’ll do whatever you need me to, you’re incredible mr. stark”

- and it all immediately goes to tony’s dick head because fuck, that was not the intended reaction but it was absolutely welcome, what the fuck

- so tony takes him upstairs, gets peter settled in the guest bedroom right across from his own

- and when he goes to bed that night he absolutely does not touch himself while thinking about the barely 20something thats maybe 10 feet away. doesn’t think about what peter said earlier, with tony’s hand wrapped around his wrist

- absolutely doesn’t cum with peter’s name on his lips, biting down on his knuckles so peter doesn’t hear

- and peter absolutely doesn’t cum with three fingers in his ass, tears streaming down his face, listening to the creaking mattress springs and heavy breathing from across the hall. of course he doesn’t

- and of course they don’t get along well. of course not. of course they don’t work together like they’re telepathically connected, not even needing to speak to know what the other is thinking. it’s like peter can read his mind, knowing exactly what needs done when

- but it’s not just tony. peter can tell before anyone else when the farrier needs to be called. when one of the girls is pregnant, even before she starts showing. knows when one of the cattle dogs has a hurt paw without even seeing him. can tell when it’s going to rain, so he knows whether or not it’ll be a good day to cut the alfalfa fields

- it’s a little freaky to be honest but tony doesn’t hate it. it’s really useful with everything on the farm, and it’s... it’s nice. having someone that can so effortlessly understand him. 

- it’s also like peters... totally unaware of it. like he doesn’t even know he knows things he shouldnt know. which blows tony’s mind even more. 

- it kinda turns him on, and he finds himself with his hand around his cock wondering if peter knows he’s getting off thinking about him. like, more than once. maybe even more than once a week. definitely more than once a week. 

- and maybe peters kind of catching on, a little. that maybe his feelings toward his employer/landlord/new friend are shared

- it also doesn’t help that he gets uncontrollably aroused every time tony goes to bed. like. every... single... time...

- peter always knew he was.. attentive. but he didn’t know it would manifest as literally feeling tony’s arousal through the fucking walls

- and it doesn’t help that peter’s filling out. he’s getting darker as the months get warmer, he’s getting significantly more meat on his bones now that he’s eating more and working more

- and it really doesn’t help that tony is getting eyefuls of the half naked ranch hand almost 24/7. it’s really not his fault that peter works better without a shirt on

- and maybe it comes to a head one day. maybe they’re picking up alfalfa bales from one of the fields and they stop to take a break and tony just ,, can’t handle sweaty, tan, barely-a-twink-anymore peter.

- and peter can feel it, with his ,, unique senses, that tony’s watching him. like, a lot. like, way more than normal even 

- so he decides to play it up a bit. he takes his shirt off, he throws his gloves in the bed of the truck and balls the tee in his hands, wiping his face off with it and sighing deeply

- and he knows tony saw that because he could fucking hear tony’s breathing change and he smirks a little bit, because that’s enough confirmation for him to know for sure

- so he looks up, and he meets tony’s eyes, and they’re wild and feral and tony looks like one of the wolves that tried to take out one of their cows last winter - hungry and ready to devour what was in front of him

- and peter just looks at him, a little incredulous, and finally speaks up: ‘you gonna get over here ‘n kiss me, or what?’ - and tony fucking breaks

- he turns the truck off and slams the door when he gets out, grabbing peter by the neck and fucking dragging him against tony’s clothed body

- “do you know what you’ve been doing this whole time?” 

- of course peter does, tony, you fucking moron. he knows and he’s been trying to get you to rip him to shreds, dumbass. you’re just oblivious

- but tony still can’t help but see the tiny young man that walked up on his doorstep those years ago, can’t help but want to protect him and keep him safe and warm and fed 

- so of course tony wanted to go slow, and wanted to be gentle with peter

- but pete was having fucking none of that, because oh my god tony i’m not 19 anymore please just fuck me already and been wanting you for way too long and please tony just--  and he grabs tony’s hand and makes him squeeze even harder

- and it’s hot, and it’s messy, and it’s not even really sex, just them rutting and grabbing and jerking each other off up against the door of tony’s truck, belt buckles undone and jeans just barely tugged down

- and tony’s basking in it, watching peter’s eyes screw shut and his pretty plush lips open and the little ‘aah, nngh fuck, tony’s that push their way from his throat

- and he knows, the second they’re done here, they’re abandoning their work for the day and he’s taking peter back to the house and he’s going to show him what this is like for real, what it means to be touched with intention and love and emotion behind it - not just a quick handjob standing in the hay field

- and he does. he worships peter’s body when they get back to the house

- he kisses every single part of him, nips at the tiny bit of excess fat on his stomach and thighs and hips, relishing in the fact that peter is his, his to take care of, his to keep safe and healthy and happy

- and eventually, the guest room opens up again. peter’s stuff slowly moves into tony’s room. he stops getting paid, but that’s okay

- because why would you get paid to work on your own farm? 

[nixelspixels1225]

I should be working on college work but here I am. Okay but...

FE3H College/University AU: Blue Lions Part 1

Side note: I have a headcanon that Lambert and Rodrigue had a side relationship going on, which applies to this a little bit,,,

Dimitri

Maintains a 3.5 GPA, is an over-achiever, and isn’t ever late to class.

He has therapy dog that’s a boy :) I imagine it’s a White Terrier who kind of has the same personality as him.

He’s apart of the debate team with Felix; is considered the best on the debate team, rivaling with Edelgard’s team.

plays on the baseball team with Sylvain and Felix (more on that in Felix and Sylvain’s portions). Every time he goes to bat, though, he ends up either hitting it out of the park or he breaks a bat somehow. He’s the reason they have to keep buying extra bats. 💀

He commutes from his home and Lambert is/was a well-known big time politician, but Dima inherits it. His uncle Rufus (who he doesn’t like as stated in the game) comes and checks in him every once in a while, but he’s basically a drunken bank owner and doesn’t really care for Dima.

On days he’s at his lowest he brings his dog with him to class. Everyone wants to pet his dog, but the dog is pretty picky with people touching him. When Dimitri raises his hand in class, the dog copies him and raises his paw. 🥺

Everyone assumes he’s gay, but doesn’t make any inclinations on if he actually is or not. He usually sticks to not talking another himself at all. The college/uni has days where students can bring their pets for an outdoor event and Dima almost doesn’t wanna bring his dog because he stubbornly considers his dog a friend over a “pet”

He's definitely a teacher's pet, no doubt.

Attends a small therapy session through the college every two weeks.

You cannot get him to drink alcohol or smoke pot honestly. Maybe unless a certain professor were there and did it first, he may be convinced.

Felix

Get ready for Sylvix vibes.

Maintains about a 3.1–3.4 GPA. Sometimes ends up being late to class, but only if he is just perpetually exhausted.

Is apart of the debate team. He has to be on it because his excuse is that he has to keep an eye on Dimitri (this kinda goes along with my Lambert/Rodrigue headcanon post)

Is also apart of the baseball team but that's because he likes being active. It helps him with his anger issues. He's probably the best player on the team to be completely honest. Short? Runs fast? Well-balanced and strong? Yes.

oh yeah he has anger issues. People have told him to go to therapy but it only pisses him off. His therapist is basically Sylvain. dhebjbhjbhcjjbh

A good majority of people legitimately cannot tell whether or not Felix is aromantic, asexual, straight, or what the hell he is. Sylvain would say he's sexually attracted to anything metal but that's an inside joke between them.

Felix commutes to college/uni. Actually, he doesn't live too far from Dimtiri.

Owns a black cat, originally out of irony, but he ended up growing to be extremely fond of cats. Especially black cats. It has bright green-yellow eyes and is actually very sweet.

Often finds himself in Sylvain's dorm, sometimes sneaking in his cat since they don't allow pets in the dorms due to other students possibly having allergies. He likes to sometimes bring over Mexican food, guacamole and tortilla chips.

When staying up late to study with Sylvain, he'll put his hair in a messy white girl bun. Sylvain teases him that he needs a starbucks coffee, acrylic nails, and a shit ton of makeup and he'll be as good of a white girl as Dorothea or Hilda.

is very oblivious to Sylvain crushing on him, but also is unaware he likes Sylvain a lot. Also. Yes, they will die together. Totally doesn't click that he likes Sylvain.

Calls Sylvain "Idiot" in the streets, but "Syl" in the sheets DJHDEHVEVHJHVJJVH--no they don't actually bang until they get together.

[belettewrites]

Some mountains and a dog part 4

previous | next | masterpost | AO3

cw: animal death mentioned

It was just before midday; they had been on the road for three yours, Jaskier on Roach and Geralt leading him. He had started doing that more, after the mountain. To show Jaskier that he was cared for; that Geralt hadn’t meant it, but did mean what he had said about wanting to apologize. And it was nice to see Jaskier on Roach, next to his and Geralt’s bags, as if he belonged with him.

Geralt had no doubt about Jaskier belonging with anyone; the bard was a mage, after all, and his own person, and was as free as a bird. He felt blessed to have Jaskier by his side – that Jaskier had been by his side for twenty years, and had chosen to stay there even when things had become shitty. Well, shittier. He had stayed when Geralt ran to find Ciri, he had stayed when it turned out that Ciri had powers, he had stayed to wait for Yennefer when it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to help much.

He had stayed and was still there, by Geralt’s side, cheeks sun-kissed and hair ruffled by the wind, laughing a laugh that was only meant for Geralt.

“Geralt!,” Jaskier suddenly gasped, turning him away from his thoughts, “Look, a dog!”

He smiled. Jaskier did this every time they came across a dog. “Geralt! Look at its tiny paws!” he would say, and Geralt would hum; “Geralt! Look at how soft it looks!” he would cry out in delight, and Geralt would hum. “Jaskier, look over there, the dog,” Geralt had said once, and Jaskier had taken his hand and squeezed it briefly before letting it go, a smile brightening his face.

“Don't approach it,” Geralt warned, “it's a shepherd dog and its job is to protect the flock. Don't want it to think you're a threat.”

Though Jaskier, even smelling magic like he always had ever since he had revealed his true nature to Geralt, didn't seem like much of a threat. But Jaskier’s safety was not something Geralt wanted to play with, so he looked over at the dog to make sure he wasn’t being threatening.

The dog had seen them and was watching them distrustfully. Especially Geralt; he was used to it, cats always hissing at him, but dogs usually were nicer. Though this one had to protect something, and there was nothing more dangerous than a dog with instincts telling him to protect something.

Geralt had once seen a dog turning on his own owner because the man was yelling quite angrily at his child, who looked close to tears. The dog, a big dog with long black fur, had growled, stepping between them. The child, unaware of what was happening, had hugged it, but their father had turned pale and after glancing down, had gone away quickly. Seemingly satisfied, the dog had licked the child’s hands, and Geralt had turned away, not forgetting how far the dog was ready to go to protect what was under its care.

So he was more than relieved when a voice called out:

“Charcoal! What are you looking at, you doof- oh!”

Jaskier dismounted Roach and straightened up, ready to defend Geralt against any prejudices.

But there was no need; the woman, when she saw them, smiled and waved her hand to say hello, the dog staying close to her, almost making her trip over it. It was almost weird, seeing another person here, when it had only been him and Jaskier for the last few days; how easy it had been, to forget about the rest of the world.

Jaskier waved back, seemingly unbothered by the sight of another human here, and Geralt relaxed as the dog turned its attention away from them. It was a big dog. "Fluffy" Jaskier would say, fur white and gray and black, its head bigger than Geralt's hand. It looked young; still in training, then.

The woman walked closer to them. She wasn't tall, but wasn't small either; red hair falling on her shoulders, freckles on her cheeks and nose. She looked – pretty, the kind of person Jaskier would have spent the night with years ago. Though he had stopped doing that well before Ciri; after his performances he would always come back to Geralt, smiling softly at him and stealing his ale. It warmed Geralt more than he could say.

“Excuse him,” the woman said, still smiling, “he thinks anyone that isn't me or my wife is a threat, but he’s a sweetheart.”

“It's nothing,” Jaskier replied, “I had a dog a bit like him when I was younger. Great with children, though you should've seen how he reacted when someone that wasn't us walked by.”

The woman laughed.

“Well, let me say, it is nice to meet other souls up here. I'm Violet.” she added with a smile.

Then she hesitated, glancing at Jaskier then turning her attention back to Geralt, and to his swords.

“Say, I don't want to sound rude, but- what are you doing here? I mean, there's no one here but me and my wife, and the occasional traveler. We have a beast that steals the sheep, but apart from that, I don't think it's the kind of place you'd expect to find lots of contracts. Or a court to play in,” she added after glancing at Jaskier's lute case.

“Geralt needed some holidays,” Jaskier replied at the same time Geralt said “Jaskier wanted to see the mountains.”

“What?” Geralt blurted out, freezing.

Jaskier turned to him, a soft look in his eyes. Violet watched them without saying anything, an amused smile on her lips.

“Geralt, you spent the whole winter being a teacher to- Fiona, and before that you spent the whole year hunting monsters and saving humanity. You deserved a break. Though, frankly, I didn't expect you to agree so easily.”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier didn’t know that he would agree to anything he would ask, though he was sure the other man was already aware of that, to some extent. Jaskier laughed, gently took his arm, and faced the woman again.

“See? The things I have to do?”

“My wife’s the same. I swear, she wouldn’t rest if I wasn’t there to remind her,” she smiled before adding, “Lila – my wife – and I are taking care of a sort of refuge for travelers, like you; eat lunch with us, and we'll see if we can ready a room for you, so you won't have to worry about sleeping in the woods tonight.”

“It's fine,” Jaskier started, “we-”

“You shouldn't,” the woman insisted, “there's something lurking around at night – it has killed two sheep already, and our old dog too, it- it wasn't pretty to see. My wife had to put an end to his misery, it was – rough.”

The pain was evident in her eyes, reflecting the loss of a life companion. Geralt saw Jaskier put his hand on Roach’s muzzle.

“So when you said there was no contract here-” Geralt tried to ask.

“Ah, well. It's just that, I'm afraid we don't have much coin to offer you, sir witcher. A beast, but no contracts,” she shrugged, though he could see she was tired.

Jaskier took his hand and squeezed it; Geralt tried very hard not to feel too warm at that, and hummed. His bard smiled knowingly.

“I'll take care of the beast,” Geralt said, “in exchange for lunch, and ale for my bard, if you have some.”

Violet smiled at them, a bit unsure but grateful nonetheless.

“Follow me, it’s not that far.”

She then started walking and they followed, still staying close to each other.

“I think we may have some goat cheese left,” Violet said, still in front of them, expertly avoiding stepping on unsteady rocks. “My wife makes them and they’re delicious – and I swear I’m not biased!”

Jaskier replied something; what, Geralt didn’t know. He let him carry the conversation like he always did, smiling and winking and actually caring about what was being said to him. Geralt was just happy to be there, Jaskier next to him. Happy to be known, too – he did need to take a break, after spending the whole winter teaching Ciri, and the beginning of spring fighting monsters. He would take care of Violet and her wife’s problem, they’d spend the night here, and they would go on the day after, pleased to be in each other's company. Maybe the life of a witcher could be sunny, too, sometimes.

***

“Honey? I found travelers that haven’t tasted your fine goat cheese yet!” Violet called out, a grin on her face as she opened the door of her house, the bells that were hung on it happily tinkling.

They had walked for ten minutes on a dusty road after finding Violet, the dog Charcoal running back and forth around them, always going back to her but lingering around Geralt in hope that he would pet him.

Jaskier knew that Geralt had a sweet spot for animals even if they didn’t always return it; he could think of at least three different occurrences where Geralt had looked absolutely dumbstruck when a dog had made its way to him before standing on his hind legs to beg for pets. On one occasion, a cat had made its way to their table when they were sitting in a tavern, and Jaskier would never forget how Geralt’s face had softened when the cat had allowed him to pet it.

Jaskier hid a smile when Geralt removed one of his gloves to pet the dog, who wagged his tail in obvious joy. Fuck, but bringing Geralt here had been a wonderful idea.

They were now waiting outside an admittedly pretty good-looking house, made out of dark stones that once must have been part of the volcanoes around them. The wood shutters looked old, but it seemed like someone had been carefully treating the wood with oil that would make it last longer, and it was overall obvious that the house was very well cared for – that it was not only a house, but also a home. Small, little violet flowers that Jaskier recognized as crocuses were growing under the windows, and it was absurd how much it made the place look welcoming and happy, as if an artist had put their brush here, adding a soft touch of color to an almost dark painting.

Jaskier was putting weight on his right leg since his left knee was still hurting him a bit – the bruise had gone from deep blue to pale yellow, but he avoided using that leg as much as he could, hoping that Geralt wouldn’t notice – though he had obviously failed at that, as Geralt had forced him to ride Roach earlier. It was something they did, now, Jaskier pretending that he didn’t want to ride and Geralt sighing fondly before helping him climb on the saddle.

“I’m surprised you even agreed to share it, honey,” a woman replied, short brown hair tied back by a black bandanna. She was almost tackled by Charcoal who in his joy to see her again had jumped on her. “Hold on, you doof, we’ve seen each other this morning.”

Violet was laughing again, and Jaskier smiled; it was good, to see people happy. It was good to see them with Geralt by his side, to let Geralt see that you could work but still let yourself be happy.

“Lila, this is Jaskier the bard,” Violet said, “and Sir Geralt. They’re quite famous, did you know? Sir Geralt said he’d take care of the thing that’s taking our sheep if we let him and his bard have lunch with us.”

Lila looked at them, squinting her eyes to see them better. Jaskier smiled at her, and Geralt – well, Geralt did his best, Jaskier assumed.

“Come on in, then,” she finally replied, “we wouldn’t want the stew to grow cold.”

***

The inside of the house was quite simple, but still showed that this place was a safe haven for both Violet and her wife and the travelers that apparently sometimes passed by.

“We’re not officially a refuge,” Lila explained as Jaskier helped her dress the table, “we just welcome people and offer them a room for the night – especially in winter, when it gets particularly cold outside.”

Jaskier nodded without replying anything. Lila seemed surlier than her wife but she still was a kind soul, ready to help. She reminded him of Geralt, in a way.

The room was nice; it was large, the windows letting the sun pour its light inside, brightening the place and making the floating dust look like sparks. There were plants hanging from the ceiling, and Jaskier saw that Geralt took a moment to admire them. It was strange, to see a house where a special thought had been put into the decoration – the places they were staying at usually didn’t care much for that kind of thing, and Kaer Morhen was more about practicality before beauty.

At the center of the room was a wooden table surrounded by two benches, one on which Geralt was sitting, listening to Violet who was animatedly talking, a dish towel in her hands, the dog sitting at her feet. Jaskier let his mind wander as he set down the pitcher full of wine but was brought back by the mention of his name in Violet and Geralt’s conversation.

“Jaskier and you, do I need to prepare two rooms? We have enough of them, it wouldn’t bother us.”

He tensed, but still pretended that he wasn’t listening. It would be weird, not sleeping next to Geralt after all these years – even at Kaer Morhen they had shared a room, Geralt not quite ready to let him go after barely escaping Nilfgaard and Jaskier needing the proximity of his witcher to be able to fall asleep. And they shared all the time on the path, to share warmth and to save coin.

But there were no threats here, no need to save their coin, and so Jaskier prepared himself for a sleepless night. It would be fine, not reading to Geralt, not braiding his hair before going to bed – it would be fine.

“Just one room will be enough,” Geralt replied, and Jaskier almost dropped the glasses he was about to put on the table. Well, that – that was nice. Maybe Geralt needed him close to be able to sleep, too.

Jaskier glanced up and met Lila’s eyes; she raised an eyebrow at him, clearly aware of his inner turmoil.

“Lunch is ready,” she announced instead of saying whatever it was that she had been thinking about Jaskier and his… feelings… for his traveling companion.

They took place on the benches, Jaskier and Geralt facing each other. Lila served the stew, and Geralt took Jaskier’s plate wordlessly, taking the carrots out of it and then giving it back to him. Jaskier smiled at his friend, and Geralt shrugged as if it were normal. Which it was, had been ever since Jaskier had said twenty years ago that he didn’t like carrots.

“So this beast,” Jaskier started, munching on his stew, “what does it do, exactly?”

Violet and Lila exchanged a glance, and Lila put her fork down, drinking a bit of wine before answering. Geralt had not stopped eating, though Jaskier had seen him discreetly hand Charcoal a piece of bread.

“It- takes the sheep,” Lila started, “and nothing else. Happens only at night, though, and Violet wanted to stay up but I told her that I’d rather not lose her to that thing. What are a few sheep next to my wife?”

Violet had blushed a little, but was fondly looking at her wife.

“There were footprints,” Lila went on, “but not ones that I could identify. Like, they look like ones of a wolf, but – they weren’t, not really.”

They all fell into a contemplative silence only broken by Charcoal’s loud breathing. Geralt slipped him another piece of bread, and Jaskier bit his cheek to prevent himself from telling him that he was teaching that dog terrible manners by rewarding him like that.

“How often does it happen?” Geralt asked, acting as if the big dog wasn’t lovingly staring up at him, hoping for more food.

“We don’t know,” Violet replied, her voice soft, “some weeks nothing happens, and then the next we lose two sheep and our dog.”

She looked up at Geralt, and Jaskier was stricken by the acceptance on her face.

“You said you would go and take a look, Sir Geralt, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll find it. But that would be okay – it hasn’t attacked us, and we know better than to go out during the night. And – you being willing to go already is – well, it’s-”

“What my wife is trying to say,” Lila cut in when it became obvious that Violet didn’t know how to end her sentence, “is that we’re already grateful that you would try to take care of it, and that even if you didn’t find anything, we would be okay. We’ve survived so far.”

Geralt nodded, and Jaskier found himself thinking about a song about two lovers, facing what Destiny was making them face, getting hurt and injured but always having each other and always going on –

Then he realized that it sounded a bit too much like him and Geralt, if him and Geralt had been lovers, and his ears grew hot.

“I’ll still go and see what I can do,” Geralt replied. “I’ll go tomorrow night.”

Lila nodded, and Violet smiled again.

“Now,” Violet started, “I was wondering, Jaskier, if you would be okay with playing something tonight?”

It had been a while since he had played for other people- well, okay, maybe not that long, but still. Playing for himself was okay, playing for Geralt was more than nice, but playing for other people? That was what had made Jaskier start to play, first for his sister who loved music but couldn’t sneak out to listen to music she actually liked like he could, then for bigger crowds. It wasn’t about being loved by his public, it was about people loving what they were hearing and forgetting about life for a while.

“Of course,” he smiled, “I’d be more than happy to.”

“He sings well,” Geralt said, and Jaskier blinked at him before feeling his face warming up.

“Why thank you, darling,” he managed to reply before turning to Lila. “Need help with something this afternoon?”

Lila looked at him with the same knowing look in her brown eyes that she had had earlier, and shrugged.

“Not particularly. Tomorrow, though?”

He grinned at her.

“I look forward to it. Now, tell me, I was promised a very fine cheese, made by the most talented cheese maker of the continent – her words,” he added while gesturing towards Violet, “not mine.”

Violet laughed and Lila stood up.

“I’ll go fetch it, it’s good with bread. If you haven’t fed it to the dog,” she added while glancing at Geralt, who froze on the bench. Jaskier burst out laughing, but still took his own piece of bread and broke it in half.

“Here, dear heart, take half of mine,” he managed to say, shoulders still shaken by his laughter.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, which only made Jaskier laugh harder, losing himself in the mirth of Geralt’s golden eyes.

[adoredontour]

all the fics i read and loved this month, in order from longest to shortest!

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December) by green_feelings @greenfeelings 128k

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove 124k

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore 113k

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

nothing worsens, nothing grows by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 102k

and he sits there quietly with harry’s headphones in his ears while his eyes begin to close, totally unaware that he’s listening to the soundtrack of harry falling in love with him.

or, another roadtrip au featuring harry as the misunderstood hipster, louis as the bitter psych major, liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

& more under the cut!

Follow Your Arrow by bitter_leaf @bitter-leaf 78k

Harry was the golden child, blessed in every way; Niall was the charming miscreant, a bad boy; Liam was the future-son-in-law parents of daughters dreamt of, and Zayn was the kid parents wished was their son. But Louis, Harry thought, Louis was the special one.

It's senior year and everything is about to change.

somethin’ bout you by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 59k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

The Recklessness in Water by LarryOn @larryonsimon 50k

Louis Tomlinson is miserable. He's stuck on a family vacation at a lake cabin in New Hampshire when all he wants to do is bemoan his sorry existence and wallow in his sweatpants. As if the humidity and mosquitos weren't bad enough, he becomes the singular target of an obnoxious lifeguard named Harry.

Missed Connection by littlelouishiccups @littlelouishiccups 39k

Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words to you are tattooed on your skin.

With a boring and generic soul mark like Hi, Harry is pessimistic he’ll ever find his soulmate or that he’ll realize it when he meets them. But he could always have it worse, like his new friend Louis who had a drunken one night stand with his soulmate a few years ago and woke up the next morning alone.

before we knew by falsegoodnight @risthebrave 39k

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

what’s mine is yours to make your own by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 39k

sometimes, the closest harry ever feels to home is louis. it's their shared hotel rooms on tour, their shoes toed off in the doorway next to each other, jackets hung on the same post.

it's everything he doesn't notice until it's been taken away from him.

And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train @runaway-train-works 35k

“Lets move back a bit yeah?” Harry clutches at his waist with a free hand and tugs him to move through the crowd until they are almost at the back of the group and settles them both beside the far wall. “There. That better?”

Louis looks up at him, as if he’s a tad dazed. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Can’t really see much from back here either though.”

Harry lifts a shoulder and grins at him, placing a hand on the wall behind Louis to pen him in. “We’ll just have to create our own fireworks then, won’t we?” He says it jokingly with a wink, and Louis laughs but he seems nervous. He must know that Harry is harmlessly flirting. Harry flirts with everyone after all, including Louis.

“Do you think this is a good idea Haz?” Louis asks quietly, almost too quietly in the clamour of the room, his head bowed as he scuffs his shoe on the carpet.

“Stop over thinking it Lou, it’s one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Or

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

last blues for bloody knuckles by creamcoffeelou @2ofusmp4

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

A mob au.

like it’s a game by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 32k

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

gathered on wings by Brooklyn_Babylon @twopoppies 32k

As Harry lay by Louis’ side, covered in sweat and come, he knew he should feel ugly, messy, ruined, like the life he’d left behind. But something about the way Louis looked at him, the way his eyes stared at him with want and awe, made Harry wonder if he’d ever feel this beautiful again.

Harry rolled his eyes at himself for his momentary romantic dreaminess. As good as this was, he knew it was nothing more than sex. He literally couldn’t afford to fall for just anyone, no matter how fit they were.

-----

What Harry Styles wanted was to be taken seriously as an artist. What he needed was a new sugar daddy to pave the way. Louis Tomlinson is an artist who isn’t what Harry is looking for. Somehow he still manages to turn Harry's world upside down.

let’s make a thing of cream and stars by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 24k

It doesn't explain why he's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of him.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Louis' wet dreams since he was about eighteen.

(Or: Louis is a Radio 1 DJ and Harry is a pop-star he interviews.)

Strong Enough by jacaranda_bloom @jacaranda-bloom 21k

The biggest obstacle is still in place, firmly ensconced as a roadblock, cemented in their path and preventing them from moving forward. The thing is, it’s not actually Harry that’s the problem. Harry, for all his faults, for whatever decisions he’s made to lead to him to where he is in his life right now, would move heaven and earth and all that’s in between to help Liam, to support him. No. It’s Louis. He’s the one that has to reach out. He’s the one that has to let go and get the fuck over himself. It’s been five years for Christ's sake. It’s time to move on and suck it up.

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad that it’s Liam that drags the subject out from the shadows and into the world. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity @aliensingucci 18k

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

The Orchards of Jessop by jaerie @jaerie 15k

At age 40, there isn’t much excitement in widower Louis Tomlinson’s life, but wasn’t that the reason he’d moved to Jessop Island in the first place? Back then he hadn’t thought retiring before he reached 30 and moving to the countryside would mean that he’d be doing it alone. Now, just to fill the space, he welcomes lodgers into his home that pass through working as temporary labourers at the orchards just up the road. They’ve all been young adults eager to start lives of their own after one last summer of freedom.

All of them have been much the same, coming and going from Louis’ house with just enough social interaction to keep the house from feeling so empty. But when a global pandemic shuts down the world, being quarantined with a quiet twenty year old who keeps to himself might turn out to be an awkward arrangement. By the time the restrictions have been lifted, their relationship has developed into something Louis isn’t quite ready to give up. With their twenty year age difference, Louis has to be prepared for the inevitable outcome when the reality shatters the private world they’ve been living in. He’s not sure he’ll be able to let it go.

if i had the chance, the things i would do to you by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 14k

Niall sighs. He leans forward, pushing his mug of tea carefully to the side, before bracing his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. It makes him look like some sort of bottle-blonde cherub. "You have quite the fanbase, Harry. I'm not denying that. And you've done a good job of popping out every once in a while in the past two years, just to make sure you're still talked about. But that's all you've done, and I'm not satisfied. I want more." He blinks at Harry. "Don't you want more?"

(Or: AU where Harry and Louis compete in the Lip Sync Battle)

One Way Road To Something Better by femstyles @femstyles 12k

Four years ago when Louis and Harry moved in together, Louis promised Anne that he’d take care of Harry no matter what. But things don’t always go as planned, and sometimes risky choices have to be made.

Inspired by Don't Let It Break Your Heart

baby look what you’ve done to me by ballsdeepinjesus 9k

The next day kind of turns everything upside down, though. Louis gets another lingerie catalogue addressed to Harry. He’s about to toss it when he sees a personalized note stuck to the front; it thanks Harry for his previous purchases and offers him a complimentary six-month subscription to their magazine free of charge. It’s a unisex lingerie catalogue. Lingerie specifically designed to allow for the existence of penises, apparently, judging from the bulging cocks covered in lace that he sees as he flips through the pages. His breath catches in his throat at the thought of a faceless Harry -- mysterious, odd Harry -- dressed up in his purchases, whatever they may be.

He thinks he needs a lie down, to be honest.

[louis moves into harry's old flat. harry gets a lot of mail.]

golden hearts (light their way back down) by fairytalelights @lookslikefairytale 4k

“..So, top or bottom?” Louis asks when Harry tunes back in. And... what? Harry knew he should have been paying more attention but he has no idea how in the hell Louis explaining camp rules to him could have led to discussing sexual preferences this quickly. He must have smiled and nodded at the wrong place one too many times.

or, the one where Harry’s first day as a summer camp counsellor doesn’t go quite as planned.

Still, Somehow, You’re Perfect Now  by FallingLikeThis @fallinglikethis 3k

Harry Styles is Captain of the footie team and all-around popular dude-bro-pal to the entire senior class. He’s kind to everyone from what Louis Tomlinson can tell, and kinder still when he thinks no one is looking. Of course, Louis has been looking. Ever since he transferred schools at the beginning of the year and noticed Harry for the first time, it’s been hard to look away.

All My Friends Are Here by abrighteryellow 

He is about to decline, though. If he has to sit through forced merriment, the least he can do is avoid participation at all costs. He is about to, but then the guy with the microphone is looking out into the crowd. He’s saying things, too — about rules and prizes and team names. At least, Louis assumes so. He can’t really hear him over the ringing in his ears.

“Alright, mate. I’ll play.”

A pub quiz has invaded Louis’s favorite dive. Fortunately, it comes with a charming host.

Front porch and one more kiss by Femstyles @femstyles <1k

A goodnight kiss on a front porch

BONUS: (rereads)

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry @isthatyoularry 136k

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Close to Nowhere by angelichl @angelichl 34k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

led by your beating heart by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 24k

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

[sunshinesholland]

dog days | t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: 1.77k

Summary: Being a dog mom is tough. Having a busy schedule and feeling mom guilt is even tougher. So who are you to say no when your dog just wants to spend some time playing at the park, even if it is pouring down rain. It’s what dog parents do. Or at least just you?

A/N: So I have a half pitbull named Mia Bella and I think Tessa is absolutely cute and they’d make sweet friends and... this was self indulgence and it’s finest and I’m not even sorry about it.

It’s a little ridiculous, you suppose, while it’s managed to go from a light drizzle of rain to a torrential downpour and everyone else has completely left the park, you’re still out. Determined to get your pup the playtime she deserves, having felt guilty going into work on a Saturday morning. Most people are likely indoors right now, snuggled up with a warm cup of tea, watching their favorite series on Netflix. Meanwhile are absolutely chilled to the bone, but with your dog smiling up at you, tail wagging and tennis ball in mouth, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Well, maybe you would. An umbrella would be nice. You at least have an anorak on, and a cap to protect you from the onslaught of rain.

But your dog Bella comes back, scampering with glee and the biggest smile on her face. She drops the ball in the mud, proudly staring up at you. As a Staffordshire terrier, she’s unbelievably expressive. Her big doe eyes begging you to throw the ball and her cheeks widened in what can only be described as a grin. No other family dog you’d had as a child was ever as expressive as your own. She’s your furry best friend, and you had a million pictures on your phone to prove it. Dog mom stereotype completely fulfilled. And yeah, your trainers are soaked, and your jeans are clinging to your skin, but your baby is happy.

You smile and reach down to scratch behind her ears, before grabbing the ball lying in front of your feet. Before you can even lift your arm to throw, she’s off and running, trying to be ahead of the game and beat the ball before it gets where it’s going. You smile, because she always does this, and throw it anyways. You wait a few minutes, expecting her to come racing back as usual. But it’s a heavy downpour and your view is obstructed further by your position at the bottom of a slight incline and the presence of trees and now you’re panicking.

“Bella?! Bell!” You’re yelling, and running now, feet sloshing against the mix of mud and slick grass.

If you weren’t already cold, the breeze from your pace is hitting your already soaked clothes makes you feel even colder. But all you can think of is your dog. She’s such a sweet girl, extremely smart and friendly but she’s a pitty and the sad truth is people aren’t very kind or trusting of bully breeds.

And you hear her bark and you’re immediately fearful, is she barking because she’s scared? Is she barking because she’s lost? Is someone hurting her? And you reach the clearing of the park, away from the trees and you see her under the park’s gazebo. She’s sat next to one of the benches, with another dog and what you can only assume is its owner.

“Oh thank god, Bella. You scared me so much!” You’re out of breath and you sound like a frightened mother. Because you are.

She comes ambling to you, completely unaware of how scared she’s made you. She’s just happy she’s made a new friend and she’s got a fun sprint in. You kneel down and attach her leash to her collar, squeezing her face in your hands and ruffling her fur. You can’t be mad at her, she’s wagging her tail and she’s safe and happy and oblivious.

“I honestly didn’t think anyone else would be crazy enough to be out here,” the stranger’s voice raised to speak over the rain, flashing a cheeky grin.

The rain is relentless against the metal roof of the structure, but it’s somehow still calming and beautiful, the sound of rain thumping against the metal. A stark contrast to being fully immersed in the pouring rain in combination with the pounding of blood in your ears, as you just were.

The rain has soaked his hair, curls falling against his forehead. He’s wearing a black zip up, and a pair of joggers. He’s managed to look cozy, warm, and attractive, and he really has no business looking this good, especially while being caught in a rainstorm. You imagine you look like a drowned rat, baseball cap doing nothing to hide the mess of soaked hair flowing from under it. Your cheeks most likely flushed from the cold and the frantic dash across the park. You brush your hair that’s fallen in your face away, clearing your throat.

“I, uh, had work this morning. And I’m a graduate student and weekends are the most time we get together without me having my nose in a textbook and I felt guilty and- you didn’t ask for my life story, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, averting your eyes from this unbelievably handsome, rain-soaked stranger, looking down at Bella.

She’s not smiling at you like she was a moment ago, instead she blinks at you before yawning. Ah, what a show of compassion. She’s bored now, she’s had her fun and you’re boring her with your need for emotional support, you think.

“It’s quite alright, I suppose I did call you crazy. You felt the need to explain yourself, even if it does somewhat confirming the initial judgement,” and you’re realizing he has an English accent, and you look up to see a softer smile on his features, eyes crinkling at the corners, effectively softening the harsh assessment, albeit joking.

And you can’t help but wonder how English rainstorms are, and if that’s why he’s fine being out in this weather. And why he’s here, in the states? And also, who gave him the right to be so charming? And why did Bella come to him? She usually isn’t very comfortable around men (although a sweet dog, she is constantly in protector mode as you’re a single girl and it’s just you two in the apartment in a busy city).

And furthermore, he’s fine with a pitbull coming up to him? Okay well, she is very very cute, and very sweet, you think, completely unbiased. Not at all thinking this because you’re her owner and proud dog mom. Not biased at all.

“Well I guess since you told me all of that, I can tell you why we’re crazy enough to be out,” he jokes, sitting down at the bench, reaching down to pet his dog.

You had been so caught up in the relief of finding your pup, of the cute stranger  his lovely accent and the tap, tap, tap of the rain against the roof that you hadn’t even noticed the lovely dog sitting patiently at his side. Your heart swelled upon recognition of the boxy terrier snout, familiar doe eyes and pointy little ears. Seeing another dog of the same breed group made you unbelievably happy. While you loved all dogs, you had a soft spot for the far too misunderstood,  gentle terriers of this breed group.

“Me and Tess were just getting our afternoon jog in when the rain started,” he continues, smiling down at his pup and then looking back at you, effectively bringing you out of your internal dog-loving monologue.

“I actually also had work today, but my girl is important to me and I needed to make time for her,” he explains, “So we’re both crazy dog parents, if we’re willing to risk hypothermia for them, I suppose,” he grins.

You can just feel how soft your eyes must be looking at him. You kneel down, Bella is at your side, sniffing at Tess, trying to get closer.

You look up at him, chocolate brown eyes meeting yours and ironically, it’s hard to not melt, “Would it be okay to pet her?”

You ask, trying to be respectful despite her tail wagging a mile a minute, and her already leaning against you to be pet.

“I don’t think either of us get a choice, darling” he laughs, eyes crinkling and head slightly tilting back at his dog’s antics.

The sound echos in the acoustics of the gazebo, and it blends beautifully with the rain calming down, now more lightly tapping against the roof. The rain is dripping down the roof edge, against the cement. You feel warm, despite being being drenched from head to toe. You stop your petting (to Tess’s dismay), and stand up.

“Would it be alright if they went and played? Since both of their activities got cut short?” You question, smiling back in what you hope is at least half as an appealing manner as his laugh.

He grins at you, reaching to unleash Tess, as you do the same with Bella, before he stands up beside you. The dogs are immediately off, running circles around the structure. The rain has let up enough that Bella is fully in your view, allowing you to relax and chat with the unnamed curly-haired boy.

“I’m sorry, I know your dog’s name, but I didn’t catch yours,” you turn away from the dogs to look at him and he’s smiling watching the dogs run.

You think he may not have heard you but he turns to you and you’re blindsided by the dazzling smile being directed at you.

“Tom, my name’s Tom,” he replies, outstretching a hand for you to shake.

You’re laughing at his formal nature, but shake his hand nonetheless.

“Well Tom, if you’re also a single dog parent, I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you,” you grin, feeling giddy for some stupid reason. It’s his sunny disposition, and his cute face, you bet.

“I drink tea… But I suppose I could make an exception for your cute dog,” he grins, bumping your shoulder playfully,

“Yeah, going for coffee, it’s for the dogs. Like when parents have to be friends because their kids are. They like each other, and who are we to stand in the way of friendship?” You add, looking out at the park space they’re running in. In your head you’re playing it cool, but in Tom’s eyes, you’ve got a slight grin but you’re beaming, absolutely glowing even in the gloom of the rainy afternoon.

“Yeah, exactly. We might have to meet up again soon too. I mean, think of the children,” he says in reply, nodding his head, looking out as well, trying to match your attempt at a collected demeanor.

And both of you are watching the two chase each other, barking happily. All while you and Tom are grinning from ear to ear. And you’re grateful that you’re not the only dog parent crazy enough to come out in a downpour, and you remind yourself that when you get home, you’ve really gotta give Bella a treat for running off like she did.

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - Sam - Front Door

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Swearing, hostage situation, pain, worry

Choice:  [You chose to go in through the front]

Y/N = Your Name 

---

Glancing at the massive mansion you weighed your options. Sure, you could probably sneak around the back easier than Sam. But the front door was also most likely to draw the witches’ attention. You were smaller than the boys, you stood a better chance at dodging whatever they threw at you while the boys made their way through the house. 

Sam was faster than you too. With his long legs he’d make it around the back way before you ever could. Which meant you’d get all three hunters into the house quicker. Making the hunt tip in your favour instead of the two against two it’d be while you made your way around following the tree line. 

Yeah… The front door was your best bet at keeping the two men in your life safe. 

“I’ll take the front door,” You said as you steeled yourself for the hunt and Sam’s surely soon to follow overprotective rebuttal. Choosing to focus on rechecking your revolver for the thousandth time, you kept your eyes away from Sam’s squared jaw and the way you could follow the worried words he swallowed back down with a bob of his adam's apple. 

“No (Y/N), I’ll take…” His normally light eyes were darker where he watched the front door, as if an army of monsters were waiting for you on the other side of the white wood. His big hand shook from strain as he clenched his own gun at his side. The worry rolling off him in waves and wrapping around you like warm, soft cotton. 

“No can do big man. You’ll make it ‘round the back much faster than me, and we need all hands on deck. Stat,” You shot back with a tired sigh. You didn’t have time to stand around there and argue. Your body was buzzing with unused adrenaline, your muscles tensing and relaxing with the need for action now that you were so close to finishing the hunt.

“(Y/N)...” Sam’s voice was low and rough, the early hints of a whispered argument you didn’t have time to listen to. You didn’t need to hear his many reasons, or whatever excuses he’d tried to cook up. 

There was no way you were putting him, or his brother, in harm's way by sitting the hunt out. No matter what Sam was planning to say to stop you from walking through that front door. And you sure as hell weren’t going to walk around the back and leave the two of them alone in there for God knows how long with the size of the house as big as it was. 

Still, you kept your eyes on your weapon, on the door, on Dean… Anywhere but Sam. Knowing that those damned puppy dog eyes could always make your stubborn strength crumble. You weren’t going to leave him. Ever. Even if you couldn’t tell him how you felt. Choosing to just hastily slip your heart into his big palm and hide it up his sleeve instead. 

You not going in there... Hell, to you that meant deserting him. Even if he saw it as a way of keeping you safe from the many imagined shadows in his mind. If Sam’s fears were the monsters in his closet, then you would be the flashlight and soothing lullabies that he never got as a child. The warm hand to hold that assured him he could still rely on others, that people wouldn’t just up and leave.

You were not going to run from the front-lines. You weren’t letting him fight your battles for you as if you were some sheltered princess hiding behind the walls his fears had shaped him into. You’d promised yourself to never abandon the Winchesters, and that’s exactly why you had to go in the front door. You had to hunt with them. 

“Don’t Sam. I’ll… We’ll meet up inside, ok?” Biting back the promises you wanted to give him, if only to soothe his worry, you straightened and walked past him instead. Eyes locked on the white wood of the front door as you fought the urge to brush up against his sleeve and check in on the heart you’d safely tucked away under the flannel. 

“I just… Please be safe, alright?” Sam’s hand was wrapped softly around your small wrist as he stopped you in your step. Big, calloused fingers brushing against the sensitive skin above your pulse point, as if he was reassuring himself that you were still alive even as you stood right next to him. The small, gentle gesture made you catch your breath as you struggled to keep your voice strong and confident. Turning with a smile you let your own forced bright words chase the last of the shadows from worried eyes. 

“Of course, I’ll kick ass in there, then we’ll go home, together,” You promised as you carefully removed your wrist from his shaky hold. The small circles his index finger has traced on the soft skin above your pulse etched into the very core of you as you forced yourself to refocus on the door. On the hunt. 

In the not-so-immortal words of Elmer Fudd; it was time to hunt some rabbits… Or, well, witches. But who the fuck cared? Whatever was hiding in the McMansion ahead of you, it was as good as dead now that the Winchester’s and you had shown up to play.

Keeping your steps light and your eyes on the wooden door you tried to ignore the feel of Sam’s eyes burning into you. The warmth of worried eyes dragged up your spine the same way you’d imagined big hands do time and time again. He should be moving, not watching you run towards the door. But you couldn’t turn around to signal for him to get going. Not when you knew he was standing there, looking afraid and alone with dimming sunshine eyes that would make you want to run back to him.

And so, you kept moving, keeping your eyes on the heaviness of wood ahead instead of the soft heartrending protective worry behind you. Worry you knew wouldn’t fade until you met up again inside the house. Until he was certain you wouldn’t leave him in that achingly permanent way that each new vicious monster tried to make a reality. The way you were unfortunately likely to leave him at some point in the future. Since your lives didn’t really hold the promise of forever. 

For now, you just had to rely on the heart in his sleeve to keep the hunter company. To keep Sam safe until you could have his back again. 

--- 

The front door was locked. 

Of course it was. Nothing could ever be easy. Why couldn’t just one monster, just once, make your lives a bit easier by rolling out the red carpet and lining up in front of you? A little roll-call of big and bad for you to check off, one bullet at a time. 

Luckily, a locked door had never stopped you. So, just as you felt the warm worry of Sam’s eyes leave you to start moving around to the back of the house, you slid down to crouch in front of the door. Resting on the balls of your feet, you momentarily holstered your gun to dig out the small lock picking kit you always kept on you. 

As the scouts said; always be prepared. And though you might not have had the girl scout, cookie sales type of childhood, you were damned sure to be prepared for any situation. Weapons and other little lethal toys included. 

The lock was pretty basic. For a mansion that just screamed ‘rob me’, the owners had felt quite secure in their seclusion. Relying only on a standard single cylinder deadbolt lock. Opening the door itself was child's play. Even if the short inconvenience had your body itching for action. 

As soon as you heard the satisfying click of metal sliding against metal you pocketed your kit again. Your hand finding your revolver at your side as you carefully stood back up and let your eyes glance behind you to find both boys gone. Dean would be just reaching his door by now, and Sam still had a bit left to move around the freakishly large house. 

Keeping the gun pointed at the door you took a small careful breath and rolled tense shoulders. It was show time. You’d go in, kick some Copperfield wannabe’s ass and find the boys again. Just like you always did. 

---

If the outside of the house had seemed large and overly luxurious, the inside screamed new money and tried too hard at being bourgeois. From the first step in on the heavy carpeted hallway to the over the top winding staircase to the second floor, the little you’d already seen of the place seemed like someone had tried to copy it right out of some over the top romance novel. 

You nearly expected seeing Scarlett O'Hara glide down the stairs and invite you in for some sweet tea and drama. Instead you were stuck with the Scarlet Witch, and not the cool, kick-ass superhero version. Yours were a little less Wanda and a hell of a lot more Wicked Witch of the West. 

Sighing, you weighed your possible options. Other than the stairs the hallway split into two nearly identical rows of rooms that seemed to go on for forever. One snaking away under the stairway and out of sight, while the other continued down towards what you guessed was the back of the house, where Sam would be coming in. 

You could take that hallway, down past the smiling faces of the former owners and hex bag recipients. Happy in the bliss of picture-perfect lives and unaware the gory fate that awaited them. That’s the way your heart wanted you to take. To get to Sam’s side as quickly as possible. But you knew it would be a waste of precious seconds. You needed the whole house checked. Not just that one hallway. Both boys would end up there and easily cover that length of smiling portraits between them. 

Tearing your eyes off the quick and easy way to get back to Sam you let your eyes glide over to what was hiding under the stairs. That was most likely the way Dean would head down once he reached the front of the house. The hallway looked darker than the others. And your best friend would always shield the rest of you by taking the most dangerous tasks on himself. 

Which left you with the winding wuthering heights of staircases. Swallowing down a couple of creative swear words you aimed your gun slightly higher, keeping your eyes peeled for movement on top of the stairs. You had to go up there. It was the right choice to make. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t sting like a son of a bitch at the thought of leaving the two men to deal with the downstairs area. 

You couldn’t let yourself dwell on it. You’d meet up with them afterwards. It was fine. 

Two witches. It shouldn’t take long. And then you’d be back by their side, watching their back as they watched yours. But first, you needed to find the two monster squatters and exterminate them. 

Keeping your eyes and gun raised, you stepped onto the stupidly wide steps of the stairs. Taking them one at a time as you paced your quiet breaths with soft, careful steps against the carpeted stairs. Damn it, this place really had to be hell to clean. Not only was it massive, but with this much carpet around, a bucket of suds and hot water just wasn’t going to cut it. 

At least your steps were swallowed by the thick carpet below your heavy steel toed boots. Which made it much easier for you to move relatively quickly up the unnecessary amount of steps in the lazy slope of the staircase. Allowing you to reach the top and scan the new endless hallways that came into view after just one strained minute. 

Fuck.

Of course there’d just be more hallways, more smiling faces in pretty picture frames. Well, you had no choice but to start looking. One door at the time as you rolled your shoulders and steadied your gun, one finger resting on the trigger guard as you chose a hallway at random and stepped towards the first of many doors. 

--- 

Damn it, how many rooms did one couple need? They had more guest rooms than you had enemies, and that was saying something. As there wasn’t a shortage of people who wanted to kill you. 

Your muscles were screaming at you from where they’d been forced to tense and relax every time you carefully pushed a new door open, only to be met with another empty room. Or, in one case a linen closet that was twice the size of your room back in the Men of Letters bunker. 

Freaking unfair. 

Yet, you kept walking, slow and steady, towards the end of the hallway. Checking one room at the time and keeping an eye on the still unchecked rooms as you strained to hear any sign of a scuffle from downstairs.

It was so quiet... Screw the damned cliché, but it was right. It was too quiet. Two of the best hunters you knew were searching downstairs. You should have heard something by now. Anything. Yet, even as you stopped moving and held your breath to listen, there was nothing. No sound of a fight, or gunshots from downstairs. Where were the damned witches hiding? 

Of course, the silence was a good sign. The Winchester brothers were still safe. You had to believe that, even as the pressure cooker of worry and what ifs boiled deep in your gut. The two men in your life were somewhere in the big mansion. And your legs ached from where you had to force yourself to continue your search without going to look for them. 

Every part of your body wanted to screw the logical hunter 101 ingrained in your mind after years in the business to find them, to find Sam, back downstairs. But you knew you had a job to do, and you were damned good at your job. ‘Employee of the month’-good. You needed to stick to the plan, to go slow and steady, not the frantic steps of overprotective love and worried hearts. 

Sam had your heart. You’d slipped him that a long, long time ago. For now, you had to rely on your mind, on your instincts and your training. You’d be back by his side soon enough. But for now, you had to stifle your fears, and move on with the search. Like a good little soldier.

The Winchesters were the best in the business.

You loved Dean like a brother, and your best friend could take care of himself. Sam too, you knew that he could. Sam Winchester was the strongest man you’d ever had the pleasure of stumbling headfirst into unrequited love with. Broken and reshaped so many times by an unforgiving world until the pressure had made him a diamond, all sharp and beautiful, as he reflected the harsh reality of the Winchester family business through sunshine eyes and gave the world a rainbow in return.

Breathing out through pursed lips, you forced your thoughts to return to the hunt as you shifted your hold on the gun. Fingers tightening around it as you kept your eyes on the remaining few doors of the hallway. A small, barely there sound drawing your eye from the door you’d been eyeing and down to the end of the hall. Bingo.

Smirking to yourself, you ignored the last few doors and strode quietly towards the final door. Someone was in there, and it sure as hell wasn’t one of the brothers. 

Moving your finger off the trigger guard. You reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to find the chrome turn in your hand without any movement from your careful fingers. Taking a step back, you readied yourself to see what was hiding behind door number… Hell, you hadn’t bothered counting. 

Coming face to face with wide blue eyes as the witch pulled the wooden door open and froze in her steps from the gun aimed right between them. Allowing yourself a quick victorious grin you nodded at your gun as your eyes stayed on the Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Bitch in front of you. Speaking up before she could spout some bullshit about guns not being able to kill her. 

God, you were just so sick and tired of the same stupid back and forth that all the monsters seemed to have to go through when you fought them. Like you were some sort of greenhorn that didn’t know your vamps from your wendigos.

“Witch killing bullets, don’t fucking move,” 

Of course, the witch parted painted lips. 

Still intent on forcing you through the little high school play of empty threats or promises of pain that you’d had to sit through one too many times. Yet, before she could start saying whatever prompt the monster playbook told her to say, she was forced quiet by a gunshot from downstairs. 

The loud explosion of sound shook your concentration for just one small second. As you glanced down the hallway towards the stairs. Worry heavy in your stomach. But that was all it took. The witch was just that fraction of a heartbeat faster than you as she sent you flying sideways into the wall, your head connecting with the smiling picture frames and your gun dropping to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. 

Fuck.

Your bleary mind barely had the time to even formulate the single swear word as darkness swallowed your vision. The edge of a frame had connected with your temple. There was no way you could keep yourself from slipping temporarily away from the real world. Your last thought as you faded into nothingness against the pounding pain in your head was Sam. 

A weak prayer for his safety on your lips as you crumpled to the floor. 

---

You hadn’t been out for long. You knew that much. The still fresh pounding in your head that had brought you back and the coppery taste of blood on your tongue was still in the early stages as you forced your eyes to open again. 

But it had been long enough for the witch to pull you back into the bedroom she had been busy leaving and tie you to a wooden chair in the middle of the white walled room. The leather belt tied around your wrists burning against the skin and erasing the soft touch left above your pulse point by Sam as you tried to loosen it. 

“Oh, look who’s up!” The woman in front of you was impeccably dressed, but that didn’t make her any less slimy to you as she softly clapped manicured hands together like a giddy child with a new toy. Her vicious attempt at teasing mismatched with the classic black dress that ended at her knees and matching heels that were leaving dents in the room’s heavy carpet. 

“Bite me, bitch,” You spat back as you tugged against the restraints. No good, you couldn’t even make the leather biting into your wrists give a little. If you were proud of your girl scout preparedness, then she was the one with the eagle scout rank. She’d tied your arms up good. Though she’d left your feet alone, you noted, which at least gave you some chance. 

She clearly had plans for you as she sauntered closer. Maybe she was going to hex you, or hurt you. But she sure as hell didn’t look like she was getting ready to kill you. No, you were playing the role of hostage. A little bait to get the Winchesters to come running and keep them from hurting her. 

Damn it. 

You knew better than to be inattentive when facing a monster. But the gunshot had come out of nowhere, and after spending so long in absolute silence, it had rattled your mind and broken your focus. 

Setting your angry eyes into the witch in front of you, you caught the glint of steel behind her where your revolver had been thrown haphazardly on the bed. If only you could get loose then she’d be toast in a second. But the leather was tied tight enough that you could nearly taste it mixing with the blood in your mouth from the cut on your lip. 

You had to think. You didn’t have many options. You could scream. Call for help and wait for the cavalry to come to your rescue. Sam and Dean were smart, they’d know what your scream meant, and they’d come running in prepared, instead of whatever trap the witch hoped to prepare. But it wasn’t a perfect solution. Someone could still get hurt. Sam could still get hurt. 

Or, you could keep fighting. Keep being the good little soldier and use whatever you could to get out of the chair and knock the Eastwick wannabe in front of you down a few pegs. 

It wasn’t much of a choice at all. But you had to choose and choose fast.

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you do?

[Try to get loose] or [Scream for help]

---

Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

---

[thecassadilla]

Pining for the Fjords

Word Count: 5,736/AO3 Link

Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Kristoff Bjorgman has the ability to bring the dead back to life with the touch of a finger - and only a few rules. After joining forces with a private detective, Kristoff finds himself in a difficult position when he brings his childhood sweetheart, Anna, back from the dead.

The only condition is that they can never touch each other, or else Anna will die, again - but this time, it will be permanent.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Despite feeling quite burned out, I somehow managed to write another fic (I have no self-control). This is a Pushing Daisies!AU. If you haven’t watched the show, I highly recommend it - and if you live in the United States (and possibly elsewhere, but I don’t know for sure), it’s free on cwseed! I can provide a link for anyone who is interested! Pushing Daisies is one of my favorite shows - it’s morbid, grotesque, and mysterious, but also sickly sweet and fairytale-esque. And the visuals and aesthetics are stunning. It’s also from 2007, which is where I’m convinced I left my brain. This fic draws heavily from the source material, but you don’t have to be familiar with it to understand this fic. Will this be continued? I have no idea. I don’t make decisions lol. I hope you enjoy it!

(As a disclaimer/trigger warning, death is spoken about *a lot* in this fic and there is a temporary major character death. If the thought of any of that makes you uncomfortable, I would advise you not to read this fic.)

Pining for the Fjords - a euphemism for death. “Used to describe a dead person or animal as a way of convincing somebody that the corpse is not, in fact, dead,” Urban Dictionary.

Kristoff Bjorgman had a gift. It wasn’t a gift that was nicely packaged with a bow on top, and was rather quite morbid - he could touch someone who had died and bring them back to life. As simple as it sounded, there were terms and conditions that went along with this gift. The first was that he could bring the deceased back to life for one minute only, or someone else would die as a consequence. An eye for an eye, so to speak. The second was that, if he allowed the person he touched to remain alive, he could never touch them again. Or else they would die, again - but this time it would be forever.

He learned about this arrangement the hard way; as a young child, he hadn’t been exposed to death. At the age of ten, while running in a field with his beloved dog, he would learn about death, and subsequently, his gift, the hard way. For, his dog, Sven, would run into the middle of the street and be struck by a semi-truck before his very own eyes.

He would race over to the side of his now-deceased dog, and gently rest a hand on the side of his limp body, only for the dog to become reanimated and jump off the ground. In that moment, he was unaware of the consequences of bringing Sven back to life - not too far away, a squirrel would die in place of Sven. 

He returned home that afternoon, with Sven in tow, happily trotting beside him. Across the street from his home lived a pair of sisters; he would often play with the younger of the two, a girl named Anna. In the grand scheme of things, his gift seemed insignificant, for he had fallen in love with Anna. She, herself, was a gift to Kristoff - curious, imaginative, fun, and fearless - and they spent many hours enjoying each other’s company. 

As he watched her play with her father on her family’s lawn from his kitchen window, tragedy would strike for the second time that day. His mother, who had a knack for baking pies, would collapse on the kitchen floor, mere inches from him. Suddenly, his newfound gift would once again prove itself useful. He would slowly approach her body and crouch down next to it, hesitantly touching his index finger to his arm. Immediately, she would gasp for air and rise off the ground, completely unaware of what had happened. 

Unfortunately, the clock continued to tick away, and once sixty seconds had passed, the first caveat of Kristoff’s gift would make itself known. He watched in silent horror as Anna’s father collapsed on the grass across the street, in front of his helpless friend. An eye for an eye; one life in exchange for another. 

The second caveat of Kristoff’s gift would make itself known later that evening; his mother tucked him into bed, and upon placing a goodnight kiss to his forehead, would fall to the floor once again. Only this time, she could not be brought back. And thus he learned that he could never touch a resurrected life, or they would die permanently. It meant he could never pet Sven again. It meant that his mother and Anna’s father became unwitting, and unfortunate, consequences of his gift.

At their respective parent’s funerals, happening just mere feet from each other, Kristoff and Anna, overcome with grief and puppy love, would have their first and only kiss.

Immediately following his mother’s funeral, officials from the state would collect Kristoff and take him away from his life, while Anna would remain in the house across the street from his, with her mother and sister. Kristoff would avoid any and all social attachments, fearing what he’d do if someone else he loved died.

Little did he know, fifteen years later, his life would be turned upside down yet again. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the age of twenty-five, Kristoff would find himself in the midst of an unusual business arrangement. Now the owner of a run-down, failing musical instrument shop, and lonely as ever, a chance encounter with a private detective would change his life once again. 

Though Kristoff managed to keep his deep secret to himself for nearly a decade and a half, luck would find him in the wrong place at the wrong time. In the alley behind his shop, as he was throwing out garbage, a man would practically fall from the sky - technically, from the roof of the building - and hit his head on the edge of the dumpster. As luck would have it, the dead man would brush against Kristoff and return to life. Unfortunately for the now undead man, he wouldn’t get to live much longer, as Kristoff was constantly reminded of the two caveats to his gift. Unwilling to have a random person in proximity die, with another simple touch the undead man was once again dead. Unfortunately for Kristoff, there was another man on the roof who witnessed the entire thing - Private Detective Olaf Olson.

“So, how long have you been a necromancer?” The detective asked, once they reconvened inside Kristoff’s empty shop.

Kristoff anxiously rubbed the palms of his hands along the sides of his pants and shook his head. “I’m not a necromancer - at least, I don’t think I am. Is that what I am? Oh god.”

Olaf narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been able to raise the dead?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, my whole life?”

“And nobody ever thought to have you tested? Or send you off to the circus?”

“Nobody else knows - except you. And I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Mhmm,” Olaf agreed, sucking in his lower lip and giving Kristoff a scrutinizing glare. He motioned around the shop. “How’s business around here, boss?”

“Um, it’s fine,” he answered, nervously.

“Doesn’t seem to be too busy.”

“I mean, it’s not but...it’s fine.”

Olaf raised a hand to his face. “Well, the good news is that I have a business proposal for you.”

Kristoff’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Yeah?”

“You see, everyday in this city, dead people turn up. Sometimes, these people are murdered without an idea as to who killed them. And when this happens, there’s usually a reward for figuring out who the killer is - a big reward. I get us in to see the body, you take advantage of your party trick, and we split the reward fifty-fifty.”

And so, they did. It was easy, albeit dirty, money. The arrangement itself was rather simple; Olaf was made aware of the terms and conditions, and normally the “transactions” went smoothly. The two men were awarded privacy in the morgue, so long as the coroner was paid off, and Kristoff would set his watch for sixty seconds, ask the deceased who killed them, and then promptly return them to being dead. For a few months, it worked really well, and Kristoff was able to keep his struggling business afloat. He was able to justify it all because it brought justice to the bad people of the world. Until the winter morning that everything got flipped on its head. 

It was a quiet day in January, and Kristoff was sitting in his apartment, which was situated above his shop. The television was on in the background as he lounged on the couch with a bowl of cereal, his dog Sven on the floor a few feet away. Suddenly, the tone of the news program changed to alert its viewers of breaking news.

“The body of a young woman has been found in a snow bank directly outside of a popular ski resort,” the news reporter announced. “While her name is being withheld at this time, it has been confirmed that she was traveling alone at the time of her death. Officials are still unsure if foul play was involved, or if this was some kind of tragic accident.”

Kristoff’s attention was immediately drawn to the unnamed dead woman. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he had an icy, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach about her. And sure enough, later that day, all of his fears would be confirmed. 

It was nearing mid-afternoon when Olaf walked into his empty shop. He was sitting on a stool behind a counter, when the other man walked up and placed a folded newspaper on the counter.

“How’s it going, pal?”

“It’s going,” Kristoff answered, glancing down at the paper. 

“You've been keeping up with the news?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “It’s all about that dead girl.”

“Cops think she was murdered - no idea who did it, though. Autopsy said she was suffocated, so she was already dead when they put her in the snow. Big reward.”

“Yeah?” He asked, feigning aloofness.

Olaf narrowed his eyes. “Are you playing stupid?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Because I just told you that the dead girl was probably murdered and that there was a lot of money to find her killer, and you’re the only one who can find out who that bastard is.”

Kristoff stared blankly at the other man.

“The clock is ticking. They’re hauling her body to the cemetery today.”

“So soon?”

“No friends, one family member. No point in letting her fester. Are you in or not?”

“Do I have a choice?” Kristoff asked drily.

“Good answer. Now let’s get moving, we have a long drive and you need to change your clothes.”

He glanced down at his outfit before standing up and walking around the counter. “Where are we going, exactly?”

“A small town called Arendelle.”

He swallowed, unsure if he heard the detective correctly. “Arendelle?”

“Yeah, are you familiar with it?” Olaf asked, picking his newspaper up off of the counter, folding it up, and tucking it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. 

Kristoff nodded. “I grew up there. Until I was ten.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready to go back.”

“Do you…?” he started, then trailed off. He was almost afraid to ask.

The other man looked at him pointedly. “Do I what?”

“Her name,” he spit out. “Do you know her name?”

“Anna Andersen.” He pronounced the first “A” in her name incorrectly; pronouncing it like the “a” in “apple” instead of like the “a” in “alms.”

“Anna,” he whispered, correcting the other man’s pronunciation.

The detective cocked an eyebrow. “You know her?”

“She lived across the street from me,” he answered, simply. It wasn’t enough to convince the other man.

“Seems like she was more than just a neighbor.”

“I haven’t seen her since I was ten,” he shrugged, though a profuse blush was spreading across his cheeks.

“Mmhmm,” Olaf acknowledged, though he remained unconvinced. “Well, we better get moving. 

And the next thing Kristoff knew, they were on the road. He wasn’t quite sure how he ended up driving, though he was grateful for the distraction. His mind was spinning; he couldn’t believe that she was gone, forever, and worse, that he was going to be forced to have one measly minute with her when he selfishly wanted more. He wasn’t even sure if she’d remember him after so much time had passed - perhaps if she didn’t, it would make it easier on him. And then there was the other problem - should he mention that he’s the reason her father died?

His heart started palpitating as they drove past the cheerfully colored “Welcome to Arendelle” sign, and it only worsened as they pulled up in front of the funeral home. It was so loud that he was positive that Olaf could hear it. 

He was overcome with a wave of nausea as he stood unmoving by the car, staring up at the looming building. It wasn’t until Olaf, now a few feet ahead, cleared his throat and motioned for him to follow. He did, shoving his hands into his pockets. He watched as the detective handed the funeral director a wad of cash, and the two men were led to a room at the end of the hallway.

“Would you mind if I did this one alone?” Kristoff asked, once the funeral director was out of earshot. They hadn’t entered the room yet, and were standing in front of the still-closed door. “Because I knew her?”

“What could you possibly have to say to her that you can’t say in front of me?” Olaf shot back, obviously offended by Kristoff’s proposal. “We’re here to find out who killed her.”

“I know, but she was my friend,” he begged, a few beads of sweat starting to gather by his hairline. “I could use the closure.”

“Fine,” Olaf grumbled. “But you better ask who killed her first.”

“I will.”

“And remember, you have one minute. Not a second longer.” His tone was stern, and he raised a finger as a warning.

“I know the rules,” Kristoff assured him. “Wait in the car?”

Olaf muttered something under his breath, but willingly walked away from the situation. Kristoff held his breath and pushed open the door to the room; it was small, and in the center was a shiny white casket. He hesitantly approached it, trying to gain his composure. The entire thing was surreal; he felt like this was some kind of twisted dream. Acknowledging the fact that he didn’t have much time, he opened the casket and looked down.

She looked ethereal; just like he remembered, but obviously much older. She was wearing an off-white lace dress, her hair parted down the center and each half was neatly draped over her shoulders. Bile rose in his throat as he stared at her, unsure if he could do it. Though it would bring her killer to justice, he was also being selfish.

After another moment or two of looking at her, he decided it was time. He set the timer on his watch, slowly brought his trembling hand to her face, and delicately tapped her cheek with his index finger before taking a step back. She sucked in a breath of air and her eyes flew open. And then she jumped out of the casket.

“I’ll kill you!” She yelled, grabbing the first thing she could - which just so happened to be a candelabra off the fireplace next to the coffin.

“Anna, stop!” He begged, bringing his hands up to his face to protect it in case she decided to throw the candelabra at him. “It’s me - Kristoff - from across the street.”

The look of anger that had shrouded her face quickly faded away and a look of relief washed over her instead. Her hand went limp and the candelabra fell to the floor. “Kristoff.”

She took a few steps toward him with her arms reached forward, prepared to pull him into a hug. He stepped backwards, eventually colliding with the wall. “You can’t touch me,” he warned. 

“Oh.” Her arms fell to her sides and she glanced over at the coffin. “That’s mine isn’t it?”

He swallowed. “Yes. Do you know what happened?”

“I mean, I was hoping that it was all a dream. That I wasn’t suffocated to death with a pillow.”

“You were,” he frowned. “I’m really sorry.”

She blinked a few times, placing a hand on the edge of the casket, but she didn’t say anything.

So, he spoke again. The clock was ticking. “While there’s a lot I’m sure we both want to say, we have less than a minute. So, I have to ask - do you know who killed you, Anna?”

She shook her head, her eyes cast downward. “I don’t - I was sleeping. I didn’t wake up until the pillow was over my face. I’m sorry.”

Kristoff exhaled harshly, feeling defeated. They wouldn’t be able to bring her killer to justice. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“How much time do I have left?”

He glanced down at his watch. “Forty seconds, give or take.”

She gave him a sad smile. “That’s not enough, I have so much to say. All those years, I wondered what happened to you. You just disappeared. I kept hoping that you would come back, but...you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I -” he was trying to find the words, but it was difficult. He had so much that he wanted to say. None of this was fair. “The state took me away and sold the house.”

“Well, since I don’t have much time left, I just want you to know that I missed you a lot. And I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I never stopped thinking about you, either,” he confessed. “Life just...wasn’t the same without you.”

“I wish things would’ve worked out differently,” she sighed. “My time is almost up, isn’t it?”

He took another look at his watch before nodding solemnly. Twenty-five seconds.

“I’m glad that you were the last person I got to see before...you know.” She huffed a nervous laugh. “Um, if it’s not too much, could you tell my sister that I’m sorry? And that I love her?”

“Of course,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure if Elsa would be keen to visitors. 

“And I hope this isn’t too forward, considering we haven’t seen each other in so long, but I want you to know that I always had feelings for you, and they never went away.”

“Me too,” he said, quickly, a blush creeping over his face. “I mean, my feelings for you never went away, either.”

“How does this work?” She asked. “You just touch me again, and that’s it?”

“Yeah,” he answered, wishing that it wouldn’t have to be this way.

She nodded once, inhaling deeply. “Okay.”

He took a slow step toward her. They had less than ten seconds left now. 

“You could kiss me,” she blurted out suddenly. “That probably sounds crazy but it would bookend everything. You would be my first kiss and my last kiss.”

His breath hitched in his throat, and he nodded, willing to grant her her dying wish. She closed her eyes, and he leaned down, ready to press his lips to hers and then promptly catch her limp body. But instead, he took a step backwards.

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. “What are you doing? Isn’t my minute up?”

Though he was grotesquely aware of the consequences, he had already made his decision. He didn’t want to live his life without her, as selfish as that was. “What if you didn’t have to die?”

“That would definitely be preferable,” she said, a look of relief washing over her features. 

“Okay, look, I’m not supposed to do this because there are grave consequences,” he said in one quick breath. “But I can’t just let you die, again.”

“What are the consequences?”

He closed his eyes, ashamed to admit the truth. “Someone else has to die in your place.”

Her face fell. “Oh.” 

“But it’s already too late,” he assured her, waving his hands rapidly. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I’m not ready to let you go.”

The corners of her lips quirked up slightly. “I’m not ready to let you go, either.”

“Great,” he huffed a sigh of relief. “We have a lot to talk about, though. And we have to get out of here.”

“I can’t just walk out of here,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I’m supposed to be dead.”

He glanced rapidly around the room. “The casket. You have to get back inside.”

“Okay,” she agreed, climbing back in.

“Now, just lay really still,” he directed her. “I’m going to follow the hearse to the cemetery.”

She nodded, and he closed the lid. Wiping the sweat off of his brow, he hastily opened the door and raced out of the funeral home. As expected, Olaf was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, reading his newspaper.

“How did it go?” The detective asked, as soon as Kristoff hopped into the car.

“Uh, it went well.”

Olaf cocked his head. “Did you find out who killed her?”

“No, she didn’t know,” he answered, as he started the car.

“Of course not,” the detective groaned. “Did you get your closure, at least?”

He was staring at his rearview mirror, trying to catch the moment the hearse pulled away from the building. “Sort of.”

“Why aren’t you driving?”

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to go to the cemetery and see the burial.” 

Olaf narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, sorry. It shouldn’t take long.” 

“I knew I should’ve driven,” he sneered, unable to hide his annoyance.

A few moments later, the hearse was driving down the street and Kristoff was following closely behind. The cemetery was a short drive away, and because no one was going to be attending the burial, that in itself was going to be quick. He had to come up with a plan.

The two men sat in the car and watched as the casket was brought over to the plot of land where it was going to be buried. Finally, Kristoff got out of the car and walked over, just in time to see it get lowered a few feet into the ground. 

“Hey,” he said to the gravediggers, who turned their attention away from the shovels in their hands. He pointed towards the entrance of the cemetery. “There were some kids near the front. I think they were defacing one of the stones.”

The two men quickly dropped their shovels and raced toward the pickup truck parked a few feet away from Kristoff’s car. As soon as they drove off, he got onto the ground and opened the lid to the casket.

“Thanks for coming back,” Anna smiled.

“After all that, you thought I was going to just leave you here?”

“No,” she giggled. “I’m just really happy you came back.”

He smiled down at her. “Come on, we have to go.”

He wished he could help her out, but luckily, it wasn’t a difficult climb. As soon as she was back on the grass, he closed the lid to the casket. 

“My car is right over there,” he said, pointing at the old car. He still hadn’t decided how he was going to explain this to Olaf, but it didn’t matter at this point. It was already done.

She squinted at it. “Is someone in your car?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s Olaf. He’s my...business partner?” What he also hadn’t thought of was that he was going to have to explain who Olaf was to her and the unorthodox partnership that they had arranged. He decided to cross that bridge when they came to it.

The two of them climbed into the car, Kristoff in the driver’s seat and Anna in the backseat. Upon hearing both doors close, the formerly distracted Olaf turned his attention to the new passenger, and then to Kristoff.

“Kristoff,” he said, a fake smile plastered across his face. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Anna,” she answered cheerfully.

The fake smile remained. “Why is the dead girl in your car and not in the ground?” 

“I needed closure,” Kristoff shrugged.

“Your closure was supposed to last sixty seconds.”

“To be fair,” Anna chimed in, “there is a lot of history here. A minute wasn’t long enough.”

Kristoff nodded along with her statement.

The detective was seething. “Does she know about the terms and conditions that came along with her newfound gift of life? That someone else died in her place?”

“She’s aware,” Anna answered, referring to herself in third person. “She’s not thrilled about it, but she’s extremely grateful that she’s alive.”

“And you both acknowledge that I could’ve been the one to die in her place, right?”

“That’s why I asked you to wait in the car,” Kristoff explained.

“You were planning on doing this all along?!”

“No! Yes? I don’t know, I wanted options!” He exclaimed, starting to feel a little flustered. “Look, it’s over. I’m going to start driving now, we all need to go home and sleep on this.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive back was a lot tamer than the few minutes they spent sitting in the cemetery. Olaf spent most of the drive muttering to himself, clearly upset that he could’ve been a casualty of Kristoff’s impulsivity. Once they reached the music shop, well past dark, Olaf parted ways without saying a word to either of them, and Kristoff brought Anna upstairs to his apartment. As soon as they entered, Sven perked his head up.

“Oh, you have a dog!” She exclaimed, rushing over to him and immediately dropping to her knees. “He looks just like Sven.”

“That is Sven,” he said, dropping his keys on the small table by the front door.

“You saved him, too?”

“He was the first,” Kristoff explained. “That’s how I…found out about all of this.”

“I see,” she said, smothering the dog with pets and kisses. “You can’t touch him either?”

He stood on the opposite side of the room, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. “No. But, um, we kind of have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes, we do,” she agreed, looking over at him. “So I can’t touch you at all, right?”

He shook his head. “No. Even the slightest touch would mean that you die permanently.”

“No hugs?”

“No hugs,” he answered.

“But what if you need a hug?” She looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“I haven’t hugged anyone in years, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Fine, what if I need a hug?”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry?” Was all that he could offer.

“And that means no kisses, too, right?”

He shook his head again, suddenly aware that the tips of his ears were burning. “No kisses.”

“Darn,” she said, softly, gently stroking Sven’s fur.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” he promised. “It’ll take a little getting used to, but I’d love the company. Or, you can leave. It’s your second chance at life and you can live it however you want to.”

“Don’t be silly,” she cooed. “I don’t want to leave. The last time I had the desire to leave somewhere, I literally died.” She annunciated each syllable in the world “literally” as if to stress the importance of its meaning. 

“I just don’t want you to think that you’re obligated to stay,” he offered, shrugging his shoulders. “You can have my bed until we can figure out some kind of a sleeping arrangement.”

“I wish sharing was an option,” she said absently, continuing to focus on the dog. “But you don’t have to give up your bed for me.”

“I insist,” he said. He walked over to the couch and plopped down on it. “I’m so tired, I’m just going to stay right here.”

“You’re still wearing your suit,” she pointed out.

“Don’t care. I know you don’t have a change of clothes with you, so feel free to wear something of mine.”

“You want me to go through your drawers?”

“Don’t know what you’d be comf…” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to finish the sentence.

Anna couldn’t help but smile at him; he certainly didn’t look comfortable laying on the couch like that, but she could only imagine how drained he felt.

But an hour later, she, too, would feel incredibly drained. She had yet to change out of the dress she was supposed to be buried in, and was sitting on the edge of Kristoff’s bed, watching television. The entire situation was difficult for her to wrap her head around, and it didn’t help that nearly every station was covering her story. She was grateful that Elsa had chosen a photo to release where she didn’t quite look like herself; a photo from when she was nineteen and had dyed her hair blonde. She was glad that it had been five years and the blonde was gone and she hoped that the world wouldn’t recognize her as the “dead girl” if she went out into it. 

She had never expected to see her own face on television in such a morbid, dismal way. Dubbed a “lonely tourist,” a part of her regretted ever venturing out to that ski resort in the first place. She wished she would’ve been content with the life she was living; just her and Elsa, in their childhood home. Reading books and tending to her garden, but always craving something more. She wondered how Elsa had been coping with all of this; she never ventured out of the house, due to her rampant fear of social situations. Anna was practically her caretaker, and now she’d have no one. She wished she could see her sister again. She wished she’d never left in the first place. 

Snapping out of her daydream and turning her attention back to the TV, the news reporters were now talking about how her murderer was still on the lam, and the large reward for information pertaining to the case. Upon hearing about the reward, she had a flashback to the viewing room; one of the first things that Kristoff had asked her was if she knew who murdered her. Was he out for the reward money? And the man in his car, Olaf, his “business partner.” What type of business were they running? Suddenly feeling very restless and alone, she turned off the television and went back into the living room.

She perched herself on the coffee table, a safe distance from the couch, and grabbed the remote. Gently, she poked Kristoff’s arm with it.

“Kristoff?” She whispered.

“Huh?” He stirred, his eyes barely opening. He wiped at his mouth and sat up slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really,” she lied, but then decided honesty was more valuable. “Well, maybe a little. They were talking about me on TV.”

“What were they saying?”

“They’re calling me a ‘lonely tourist.’ They’re not wrong, but it’s weird.”

He was now wide awake, focusing solely on her. “I can only imagine.”

“Apparently there’s a big reward for finding the person who murdered me.”

The color drained from his face when she said that. “Yeah?”

She inhaled deeply. “You said Olaf was your business partner. What kind of business do you two run?”

“I have the music shop right downstairs,” he admitted, though it was a half-truth. That wasn't what she was asking.

“And Olaf?”

“He’s a private detective.”

“I guess I should just come out and say it,” she said, slightly frustrated at his hesitance. “Was I an opportunity for monetary gain?”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Pardon?”

“The reward money. In that first minute, you made it a point to ask me who killed me. Was it for the reward money?”

“No!” He insisted. “It was for justice. I mean, the only reason I found out that it was you was because of Olaf and the reward. I had already agreed to go before he told me that it was you.”

“So, your business is to go to funerals, wake the dead, find out who killed them, and collect the reward money?”

“Yeah,” he answered sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Are you mad at me?”

She blinked. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to be mad when I’m sitting here in front of you and I should be six feet under.”

“I swear, I only go in with good intentions. To see justice be served. Killers behind bars. The reward money is a bonus; it’s how I keep the music shop in business.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Don’t be - it’s a little shady. The entire thing was Olaf’s idea. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he saw me accidentally bring a man back to life and then immediately re-dead him. If he hadn’t seen me, I’d just be a guy with an ability that no one else knows about.”

“And I’d be in the ground,” she added.

He huffed out a nervous laugh. “Yeah.” 

“Part of me wishes that I’d never gone to that stupid ski resort. Why did I have to hate my life? Why couldn’t I just be satisfied with the life I had?”

He paused briefly before responding. “I think it’s natural for us to want to try new things.”

“I feel bad for my poor sister. She barely functioned when I was home, and she warned me about leaving, and now she thinks that I’m dead.” She buried her face in her hands.

“What about your mother?”

“She died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

She pulled her hands away from her face and ran her fingers through her hair. “You wouldn’t have known. Please don’t think that I’m not happy to be here, because I really am thrilled to be alive and with you, and I’m not taking any of this for granted. It just feels so...strange. Confusing.”

He nodded in agreement. “It will be an adjustment for both of us. There’s still a lot we have to talk about.” The truth about her father was one of the things that he knew he’d have to bring up eventually, though he was absolutely dreading the thought of it.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I just needed someone to talk to.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, laying back against the couch. “But you should try to get some sleep. It was kind of a crazy day for you.”

She placed her hands flat on her thighs for a minute before standing up. “Thank you again for rescuing me, today.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “And Anna? I just want you to know that I’d make the same decision again in a heartbeat. No doubt in my mind.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “Goodnight, Kristoff.”

“Goodnight.”

And so she retreated to his bedroom, keeping her dress on and laying on top of his sheets. She still felt a bit restless, and so she turned to face the wall on the left side of the bed, lifted up her left arm and pressed her palm flatly against it.

Just on the other side of the wall, Kristoff had turned to face the inside of the couch. Unable to sleep and unaware that Anna was doing the same, he raised his right arm and placed his hand against the wall.

Unbeknownst to either of them, without the wall as a barrier of protection, their hands would be touching.

[satinwulf]

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ SANSA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ AHN HEEYEON ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-SIX ] year old has been in the capital for [ TWENTY-SIX YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ ASSOCIATE ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ RESERVED ] && [ CIRCUMSPECT ] of late, when they used to be so [  WHIMSICAL ] && [ SANGUINE ]. during the daylight hours, [ SANSA ] can be found working as a [ FASHION DESIGNER & BOUTIQUE OWNER ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ THE ARCHER BY TAYLOR SWIFT ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. ( mowgli. twenty-four. cst. she/hers. )

STATISTICS.

full name:  sansa  elethea  stark.

moniker / nickname: princess,   sans.

gender && pronouns: cisfemale,      she / hers.

dob && age: december 23,   1994.     26.

zodiac sign: capricorn.

ethnicity: korean.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

romantic orientation: biromantic.

mafia affiliation: associate  to  the  stark  family  via  familial  ties   -   sansa  does  NOT  partake  in  anything  further  than  simply  being  known  as  a  stark.

occupational history: former  socialite  turned  fashion  designer.      current  owner  of  the  satin  wolf,      an  upscale  boutique  featuring  her  designs.

financial status: sansa  comes  from  wealth,      but  has  also  amassed  her  own  funds  through  her  business   -   albeit,      it  is  easy  to  do  so  when  you  don’t  have  to  pay  rent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: ahn  heeyeon,   ‘hani’.

height: five feet,   eight  inches.

physical build: tall  and  slim;   sansa  is  not  very  toned  nor  muscled,       her  body  is  very  much  so  smooth  lines  and  long  limbs.

eye colour and shape:  brown,      almond.

hair colour and style: currently  strawberry  blonde,   formerly  many  different  colors,    as  sansa  expressed  herself  through  having  it  dyed  previously.       it  is  often  worn  straight  and  down  when  she  isn’t  working,      and  pulled  into  a  messy  bun  when  she  is!

usual expression: stoic.

accent and speech style: sansa  has  a  very  soft  voice,       very  saccharine  and  sweet  by  its  very  nature.        she  has  no  blatant  accent,     and  speaks  often  in  run  on  sentences.

distinguishing marks / characteristics: any scars, tattoos, piercings.

clothing style: very  street  chic  but  also  dependent  on  the  occasion   -   she  dresses  for  the  life  she  wants  to  have  and  live.

jewellery and accessories: earrings,   necklaces,   hats,   scarves   -   any  and  everything  is  on  the  table  when  it  comes  to  accessorizing  the  perfect  outfit.        sansa  never  considers  herself  fully  dressed  without  her  apple  watch,      earrings,      and  a  silver  wolf’s  head  locket  necklace.  

FAMILY:

father: eddard stark.

mother: catelyn stark,      nee  tully.

siblings, if any: robb,      arya,      bran,      rickon.

extended relations: hoster  &  minisa  tully,     edmure  tully,      brandon  stark,      lyanna  stark,      benjen  stark.

significant other(s): none,   currently.    formerly  a  fiance.

children: none.

household pet(s): a  female  merle  great  dane  named  boleyn,   “bo”  for  short.

FAVOURITES.

colour: blue.

weather: a sunny,   but  cool  fall  day.

food item:  red  velvet  cupcakes.

beverage: peach lemonade.

time of day: mid - evening.

television genre: drama.

PERSONALITY.

hobbies: painting,     baking,      reading   -   and  occasionally  writing.

pet peeves: sansa  loathes  loud  chewers,      people  who  refuse  to  put  effort  into  their  outward  appearance,      and  people  who  think  ketchup  and  ranch  go  on  everything   -   or  anything  at  all.

phobias: spiders,      rats,      snakes.

allergies: penicillin.

mbti type: enfj,    the  protagonist.

enneagram type: 4w3,      the  enthusiast.

positive traits: whimsical,      sanguine,      clever.

negative traits: reserved,      circumspect,      fretful.

morning routine: up  by  seven,      morning  walk  with  her  dog,      shower,      breakfast,    begin  work  by  nine,      sharp.

beauty routine: multi - stepped,   always  beginning  with  primers  and  concealers.        sansa  is  a  bit  of  a  makeup  enthusiast;      even  if  she’s  just  at  home  working,      she  prefers  to  have  some  level  of  it  on,      as  she  feels  it’s  yet  another  creative  and  artistic  outlet   . . .    even  if  it  is  just  for  herself.

sleeping habits: sansa  has  always  been  a  heavy,      deep  sleeper,      even  as  a  child.        she  can  fall  asleep  in  the  blink  of  an  eye,      and  be  out  for  hours  without  even  a  hint  of  discomfort.        she  used  to  be  the  person  who  was  up  all  night,      and  tended  to  sleep  all  day   -   now  she’s  asleep  by  8:30pm  most  nights  and  up  by  7:00am.

living space && home: a  high  rise  loft  apartment,      kept  impeccably  clean  and  decorated  in  a  modern  contemporary  style,      with  many  hues  of  gray  and  light  pastels.

all  the  king’s  horses  and  all  the  king’s  men  couldn’t  put  me  together  again,      ‘cause  all  of  my  enemies  started  out  friends.

sansa  attended  king’s  way  college  and  graduated  with  a  bachelor’s  degree  of  fine  arts,    having  majored  in  fashion  design.        her  graduation  present  was  the  satin  wolf,      a  boutique  of  her  own  to  showcase  her  designs.        it  is  located  in  neutral  territory,      and  operated  by  staff  hand  selected  by  sansa  herself.  

the  death  of  hoster  tully  was  a  sad  affair  for  her,      and  yet,      sansa’s  grief  was  also  met  with  a  sense  of  relief.        that  with  her  grandfather  no  longer  pulling  strings,      the  pressure  of  being  brought  into  a  life  she  did  not  want  might  wain.

it  is  her  intent  to  never  become  involved  further  than  she  is  currently  with  any  of  the  syndicates,    even  her  own  family’s.

dancing  under  lights  since  she  was  seventeen.     her  brain’s  flooded  with  ketamine,     high  from  every  party,      low  from  self - esteem;     it’s  selfish  but  she  never  sleep.       honestly,      she  needs  a  little  sympathy.

the  socialite  daughter,      beautiful  and  charming,      always  interested  in  the  next  party   -   the  next  event.        sansa  had  a  penchant  for  attention,      late  nights  spent  out  drinking  and  dancing  even  when  she  less  than  legal;      it  made  her  feel  happy,      feel  free.        it  was  a  way  to  forget  that  things  could  be  dark  and  grim   -   to  forget  that  her  parents,      her  siblings,     nearly  everyone  she  knew  was  involved  in  a  lifestyle  that  made  her  stomach  curl.       so  she  danced  and  partied,      smiled  wide  for  pictures,     found  a  boyfriend  that  enjoyed  the  same  things  she  did   -   one  who  wasn’t  interested  in  what  her  family’s  name  could  do  for  him   . . .   or  so  she  thought.        when  he  asked  her  to  marry  him,      she  cried  tears  of  joy,      and  things  were  perfect.        just  like  they  always  were  for  sansa.

until  one  night  a  few  months  ago,      when  she  and  her  fiance  were  leaving  a  club   -   drunk  and  stumbling,      clinging  to  his  arm  with  practiced  ease    . . .   when  two  rough  hands  that  weren’t  his  pulled  her  away.        into  a  darkened  alley,      where  accomplices  met  and  held  her  at  knife-point.        they  wanted  to  know  about  her  father.        her  uncles.        her  mother,     aunts,      grandfather.        stark  plans,      stark  anything   -   gravely  voices  that  wondered  how  many  pretty  pennies  they  could  get  if  they  just  took  her  off  the  streets  now.       held  her  until  they  paid,      and  maybe  they’d  just  kill  her  anyways.       the  rough  brick  of  the  building  at  her  back  digs  into  unmarred  skin,      leaving  it  scratched  and  red   -   prick  of  a  blade  just  centimetres  away  from  the  flesh  of  her  neck,      threatening  to  cut  it  open  and  leave  her  bloody.

she  can’t  figure  out  where  he  is,      the  man  who’s  supposed  to  love  her   -   seemingly  vanished  into  thin  air  the  minute  things  had  turned  sour.        sansa  is  convinced  of  the  worst,      mascara  tears  trailing  down  her  cheeks,      because  this  must  be  it.        the  end  of  it  all.

reprieve  is  the  sight  of  one  man,     then  two,      crumpling  to  the  ground.        a  familiar  face  appearing  in  the  dimly  lit  alley  as  the  knife  at  her  throat  clatters  to  the  ground  and  her  freedom  is  given.        alive  but  shaken,      sansa  hasn’t  been  the  same  since.

i  used  to  be  a  darling  starlet  like  a  centerpiece.       had  the  whole  world  wrapped  around  my  ring.      i  flew  too  closely  to  the  sun  that’s  setting  in  the  east,       and  now  i’m  melting  from  my  wings.

returning  to  a  normal  life  post  incident   -   post  trauma   -   has  been  easier  said  than  done.        now  reclusive  in  nature,      stowing  herself  away  for  days  in  her  high  rise  loft  apartment,      sightings  of  the  eldest  stark  daughter  are  said  to  be  few  and  far  between.        she  no  longer  frequents  her  own  boutique,      working  instead  from  home  and  through  various  intermediates  to  ensure  everything  is  well  controlled;      sansa  only  appears  when  it’s  absolutely  necessary,      when  business  requires  a  gentle,     steady  hand  and  cannot  be  managed  from  afar.        

custom  designs  are  still  available,     but  often  very   hard  to  come  by.        sansa  is  incredibly  selective  with  who  she’ll  meet  in  person  with,      and  thus,      only  those  who  can  guarantee  her  trust  have  been  able  to  get  them.

sansa  does,      however,      outfit  most  of  the  stark  syndicate  in  gear  that  is  both  fashionable  and  functional.        including  safety  measures   &   fabric  a  little  more  durable  than  most.        this  is  generally  the  extent  of  what  she’s  willing  to  do  for  the  syndicate,      the  idea  of  being  involved  in  violence  is  absolutely  terrifying  to  her,      especially  after  everything  she  went  through  without  even  being  more  than  a  child  of  known  members.

she  still  is  unaware  of  her  ex-fiance’s  involvement  in  the  attempted  abduction   -   if  he  was  working  along  with  the  men,      or  if  he  was  just  cowardly  enough,     uncaring  enough  to  have  let  her  be  pulled  from  his  arms.        she  hasn’t  spoken  to  him  much,      outside  of  ending  their  relationship  as  a  whole,      the  truth  isn’t  worth  the  extra  pain  it  may  cause,      or  so  she’s  convinced  herself  for  now.

wanted  connections  !!     i  may  send  some  of  these  into  the  main  after  a  bit  if  they  aren’t  filled  just  because  i’m  #needy.

judas    . . .      this  would  be  sansa’s  ex - fiance!      i  did  write  it  off  a  tweaked  and  modernized  version  of  her  relationship  with  joffrey  but  it  definitely  doesn’t  have  to  be  him.         their  relationship  was  seemingly  picture  perfect   -   and  likely  too  good  to  be  true.         they  were  frequent  party  and  club  attendees  together,      and  truly,      was  based  off  of  the  fact  that  being  together  was  akin  to  the  high  that  came  with  endless  drinks  and  fun.        ideally,      he  would  have  just  been  using  sansa  to  hopefully  siphon  information  or  even  to  gain  an  in  to  the  stark  family   -   the  possibilities  are  endless  and  i’m  ??   here  for  them?       sansa  romanticized  the  fuck  out  of  him  and  their  relationship,      ignoring  any  and  all  warning  signs  until  things  went  bad  the  night  of  the  after  club  incident.        essentially  she’s  ghosted  him,      aside  from  mailing  back  his  ring  and  a  letter  telling  him  it  was,      in  very  few  words,      over.      the  finer  details  are  very  much  so  up  for  discussion  and  interpretation  so  y’know,      run  wild.

white  horse   . . .      whomever  saved  sansa  from  the  alley   -   no  gender  requirements  because  we  love  equal  opportunity  ass  kickers  in  this  house.       they  had  at  the  very  least  an  acquaintanceship  with  sansa  in  the  past  and  after  their  act  of  heroism,     sansa’s  sort  of  attached  herself  to  them  in  a  very  idealized  way?      not  necessarily  romantically  but  very  clingy,     she  doesn’t  want  to  be  a  burden  but  also  it’s  very  hard  for  her  to  not  instinctively  shift  into  thinking  of  them  as  her  protector  and  she  just  needs  and  wants  to  feel  safe   . . .   all  of  the  time.        taken  by  dacey  mormont.

pink  pony  club   . . .     sansa’s  #squad.      their  relationship(s)  may  be  slightly  strained  from  sansa  shifting  into  recluse  mode,    but  ultimately  they  would  be  the  people  she  spent  the  most  time  with  previously.      dancing,    studying,    coffee  dates,    all  of  the  close  friend  things.      bonus  points  for  friendships  from  childhood  to  now,    because  we  all  need  the  montage  of  childhood  sleepovers  to  sansa  showing  up  at  their  house  at  6:00  in  the  morning  because  she  can’t  sleep  and  she  brought  coffee,    also  do  they  have  time  to  talk  about  how  she  can’t  stop  shaking  and  she  just  needs  a  hug.

also  if  you’ve  made  it  this  far,      ‘sup  i’m  mowgli  and  i  told  myself  i  wasn’t  allowed  to  join  the  discord  until  i  finished  my  intro  because  i  have  the  attention  span  of  a  goldfish  and  it  still  took  me  all  day   ??     anyways,     i’m  gonna  be  sneaking  myself  on  in  there  soon  but  y’all  can  feel  free  to  also  just  add  me  @  mohglee#0602  ty ty <3

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

"Don't make this harder than it already is " with an Unhinged Narancia ot Giorno.

I hope Narancia isn't too ooc in this while still being a little unhinged.

I also made it gender neutral.

Subtraction

(Yandere Narancia Ghriga X Gender Neutral Reader)

You looked at the text on your phone to see if you were at the right address and you were. You were honestly a little shocked how could you have ever been chosen as a tutor for a household as extravagant as this. You felt a lump grow in your throat as you walked closer to the door. You had absolutely no idea who you were dealing with. Today was going to be you first meeting with the child you would be tutoring.

Why were you tutoring? Because you needed to make a few extra dollars while you were in university, so you had placed numerous posters out advertising yourself as a tutor for children from six years old to thirteen years old. For weeks you hadn't gotten a single call about it until yesterday and thus is why you were here now.

You stood in front of the door, you brought your hand up to the door but you just couldn't knock it.

'God (Y/n) what are you so worried about!' You mentally screamed before bringing yourself to knock the door.

It seemed like only a second before the door was opened.

"You must be (Y/n)" a voice not belonging to the man that called you said. The voice belonged to an albino male who wore a red suit.

"Yes I am, and who may you be?" You asked him.

"I'm Pannacotta Fugo, Narancia's old tutor" he snarled as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh" you mumbled. As you stepped inside.

"So how is Narancia? Just so I know what I'm getting myself into" you asked with a wry smile.

"He's claims that he wants to learn but he never puts any effort into his learning" he huffed.

"Well I'm sure that with the right approach he'll learn" you said, trying to keep an optimistic view.

"Who are you to tell me that I haven't been trying!" He snarled at you.

"I'm not saying anything like that" You squeaked as you backed away from the platinum blonde male.

"Who the hell's this?" A ravenette teen asked as he approached you both. You were a little confused by their appearance, some of their features were very feminine while others were more masculine.

"My name is (Y/n), I'm here to tutor Narancia" you said. The teen pulled an expression of disgust.

"Ugh I've had enough of all of this tutoring" he groaned.

"Umm could I talk to the head of the household" you asked Fugo.

"I know he isn't in the year range you advertised but I'm sure that you'll have no problem tutoring him" a voice familiar to the man who called you said. You turned around to see a tall male in a white suit and short black hair.

"I'm sorry but... I only have worksheets from grade one to seven" you replied.

"Narancia, Fugo. Could you please leave me to talk to (Y/n) for a moment" he asked and the two teens left without a word.

"I understand that you only work with primary grade students but Narancia hasn't attended school for a majority of his life, I will admit he isn't the brightest and he acts rather childish" he began to explain.

"I've come to realise that Fugo might not have the right approach to teaching him, that's why I called you" he continued.

"I will pay you extra for the trouble if that's what you want" he said before you even had a chance to speak.

"I don't want to sound greedy or rude but how much more are you talking about?" You asked.

"An extra €50 for each lesson"

"I'll take it" you said as you walked to a large table before taking a sheet out of your bag.

"Narancia you can come back" the male called.

As Narancia walked in he huffed when he saw the sheet. He sat next to you without a word.

"Don't worry Narancia I'm not going to ask for you to much of today" you said with a smile.

"Think of this as an introduction, I get to know about you and you get to know about me" you explained, which seemed to ease him a bit.

"The only work I'm giving you today is this sheet, just write down the answers you think are correct don't think you have to get them all correct, this is just to find out what you need to improve one" you said as you handed him the worksheet. You then noticed as Narancia started the worksheet that Fugo watched over the poor boys shoulder like a hawk.

"Fugo why don't you sit down next to me?" you asked as you pulled the chair next to you out. He simply ignored you as he sat next to Narancia.

Minutes passed as Narancia went through every question on the sheet with not a word said.

"Done!" He chimed as he handed you the sheet with a sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his face. You quickly skimmed over each question. Most of these answers were completely wrong. He was at grade three level at the most.

"So how did I do?" He asked in a sly tone.

"Ummm... Alright, but I'm a little confused as to how the answer to 20x13 is 160?" You said as you watched his bright look fade.

"Are you kidding me? We did this exact problem yesterday!" Fugo screamed as he grabbed Narancia by the hair before slamming his head into the table.

"I told you the answer yesterday!" He continued as he was about to slam his head in again before you grabbed Fugo and pulled him back.

"Stop it, your gonna hurt him!" you screamed as you held him back from hurting Narancia.

Narancia looked at you with a blank expression. He was dumbfounded by the fact that you had helped him rather then just simply watching. He began to see that your sweet charisma was just something unlike anything else. He began to admire your features, you were beautiful. He was just so encapsulated in his thoughts about you that he hadn't realised you approaching him.

"Narancia are you alright?" You asked the dazed teen, which seemed to bring him back to reality.

"Y... Yeah I'm fine" he stuttered in response, unaware of the blood dripping from his nose.

"Oh no your nose is bleeding!" You gasped as you grabbed tissues from the nearby table and wiped the blood away.

"No wonder Fugo couldn't get you to learn, how are you supposed to feel encouraged to work on your maths if this is how he reacts" you said.

➖➖➖

After a few weeks he had grown to really like you being around. You were smart but also very kind and understanding. You always tried to grab his attention with thingt that you called 'visual aids' or 'practical examples', like teaching him how percentages and decimals were the same as fractions by bring in a cake for him to divide.

Each week he grew to be more excited for you to come. He would wait the whole day for you to come, like a dog waiting for their owner to come home.

Unlike most other people you had actually tried to understand him. You seemed to pick up on all his interests. He aspired to be smart like you but he also began to admire you, he felt like butterflies were fluttering in his stomach when he was around you.

But like all good things... It had to come to an end.

➖➖➖

"No (Y/n) this can't be my last lesson! There's still so much more you can teach me" the ravenette pled as he held onto your arm.

"I'm sorry Narancia but I really need the time to study, I have so many exams and tests coming up" you explained as you tried to leave the house.

"But you can't leave me!" He whined like a child as clung onto you like a dead weight.

"Why?" You asked.

"Because I love you!" He accidentally blurted out, his face turning red as he realised what he had said.

You looked at him, you couldn't deny that he was cute and all but you just couldn't see you and him being in a relationship and you also couldn't just have a relationship when you had so much of your time committed to your studies.

"Narancia, that's really sweet of you but I'm sorry" you said, gloom casting over his features.

"It's just I'm not really looking for a relationship right now, ok?" You explained to him.

"Ok then... I understand" he mumbled as he let go of you.

"I'm glad you understand" you said as you exited the door.

"Good bye" you said before vanishing.

He just stood at the door I awe. He felt all those lovestruck feeling go topsy turvy. His stomach seemed to drop and his heart felt like a bullet had gone though it.

'They rejected me' he thought.

'No this can't be possible, they can't just reject me'

'I need them' his mind went into overdrive as he processed what had just happened.

'your not going to just let them abandon you too, are you?' a dark voice whispered in his mind.

➖➖➖

You walked back to your dorm with a heavy heart, you just hoped you hadn't let him down to hard. You suddenly a strong gust of wind brushed past you, you looked for the source but failed to see or hear the small plane that hovered around you.

You continued you walk until you were stopped by a familiar face, your classmate and good friend Alex.

"Hey (Y/n), how you going?" He said.

"I'm good" you responded

"So are we still studying tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah I'm just going to get some groceries and then I'll head over" you replied with a smile.

"Ok, I'll see you then" he said as he hugged you, unaware that a pair of eyes glared at him with malice intent.

"There's no way in hell I'm fucking letting you take them away from me"

➖➖➖

You knocked on Alex's door but he didn't respond. You knocked again and still no answer. You turned the door knob and it wasn't locked so you opened it.

The dormroom was so dark. All of the curtains were closed and not a single light was on.

'maybe he had just gone out quickly and forgotten to lock the door' you thought until you saw something small near his bedroom door. You closed the door before you walked up to it, a hand between the door and the doorframe.

You opened the door and turned on the light, regret kicked in.

Alex's bloody body laying lifelessly on the floor, blood splattered across the every inch of the room. You screamed as you ran to the door but before you could even wrap you hands around it some unknown force knocked in straight off.

"I'm sorry... If only you had said yes this wouldn't of happened" an a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see a a figure whose face was hidden behind a hood.

"Na... Narancia, is that you?" You stuttered. The figure took off his hood and turned the light on.

"Yep" Narancia said in a sickeningly sweet tone and a innocent smile on his face contrasted by the blood that covered him.

"Why... Why would you do this?" You asked.

"I did it for us (Y/n)" he simply responded as he walked up to you.

"Us!?" You questioned as you backed away from him. Eventually he cornered you.

"I didn't want you to leave me... Your so sweet and caring towards me" he explained.

"That isn't a reason for you to commit a murder!" you screamed.

"That guy was trying to get in your pants!" He yelled back.

"I'm sure that all that scumbag wanted from you was a quick fuck!" he continued

"Your deranged!" You yelled as you pushed him away and tried to find another way to escape, which was cut short by three shots to the leg which sent you tumbling to the floor. There had been no sound or bullets but something had shot you.

"Don't make this harder then it already is" Narancia mumbled as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

"I don't want to have to make a massive scene..."

[hoodie-lover]

My Multiverse part 7

Dream followed Ink carefully, not objecting, but curious. Ink stopped in the middle of the large ornate room Dream had sometimes been in. For no reason, it put Dream off, he felt uncomfortable, he felt afraid. Ink was sitting on a velvet chair, legs crossed, and smile wide. Dream felt happiness coming off of Ink, but it was a sadistic happiness, a bad type of happiness. 

“Sit, Dreamy~.” Ink commanded, patting his lap expectantly. Dream was taken aback, but he did as Ink asked. 

Ink ran his hands over Dream’s delicate figure, grabbing Dream’s arms, pulling and jerking them, wrapping them around his shoulders, pulling Dream closer and closer. Dream tried to struggle, but found himself paralyzed. Fear was taking control of the small guardian. Ink placed his hands on the back of Dream’s skull and forced Dream into a passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with poison and insincerity, Dream was repulsed. He tried to pull away, but he was stuck to Ink. 

It was only after a minute or so Ink let Dream go. “You liked that, right?” Ink asked, and Dream hesitantly nodded, but he was too shocked to see Ink grab his ribs through his shirt and squeeze, “Right?” Ink asked again, rage boiling just underneath his words. “You will, just let me see your soul.” Ink commanded.

Dream gasped and pulled his arms off of Ink, causing the skeleton’s eyes to become red. Dream tried to get off of Ink’s lap, but was locked in place by a magical chain wrapped around his neck that wasn’t there before, the other end in Ink’s hand. 

“Show. Me. Your. Soul.” Ink demanded, yanking Dream closer than he already was. 

Dream obliged, scared out of his mind. The golden apple illuminated the room, emanating warmth and joy. Ink looked at the soul, a lustful glow in his eyes. He threw Dream off of his lap, keeping the chain in one hand, and the soul in his other. He rubbed his hands over the soul, pressing his fingers onto it. He looked over at Dream, he was writhing in pain, giving Ink a pitiful cry for mercy. Ink giggled and lifted the soul up to his mouth, and took a large bite. 

Ink moaned and loosened up as he looked at Dream as he shivered and cried. With his eyes on Dream, Ink took another bite, and the scream Dream emitted was cute, in Ink’s opinion. That continued until the soul was nothing but an apple core, covered in rainbow saliva. Dream’s eyelights were grey, void of anything. It reminded Ink of when he looked in the mirror when he had let his vials run out. For his final touch, Ink sent a surge of energy through the hand holding the apple, giving it a rainbow sheen. 

Ink gave Dream his soul back, and Dream’s eye barely gained any light. “Ink, what did you do to me?” Dream asked, and Ink picked up Dream bridal style. “I made you like me. A person without emotions, no care for others, and the ability to control others.” Ink explained, and Dream merely nodded absentmindedly. 

“How do you feel?” Ink asked, his face blank.

“Empty.” Dream said, exhaling softly. 

“You’ll feel full soon. You just need to try out your new powers.” Ink told him, resting him on the couch. 

“I’ll get your first test subject.” Ink said, leaving Dream alone, empty and swaying. 

Ink returned with Nightmare. Nightmare’s steps were sloppy and uncoordinated, as if he were drunk. His eye was blank, posture crooked, and face void of all life and sentiance. 

“What is my brother doing here?” Dream asked, no concern, care, guilt, or love in his voice. 

“So you can practice of course!” Ink said, beaming with curiosity. 

“Oh. How do I do it?” Dream asked Ink, and the creator was happy to give a demonstration, and a dusty one at that. 

The world was fuzzy, Nightmare’s grip on reality was slipping. He couldn't really see, hear, smell, touch, or taste, he just was. Floating on nothing in the infinite reaches of his mind. Though, after a while, a whisper came to be. It was small, but he gravitated to it. A light followed the whisper, and it made him relax, he wanted the light. It seemed to come closer, making Nightmare’s world fuzzier. 

Ink lifted Nightmare off the floor, Nightmare’s arms covered in dust and stick thin. His legs were in no better condition, barely able to hold up Nightmare’s weight. Dream had Ink’s rusty knife in his hand, purple dust staining his clothes and face. Dream also had a small smirk on his face. 

“What are you doing?” Dream asked Ink, and the god snickered. “You’ll see.” And Ink pressed his mouth to Nightmare’s, and the guardian’s eye sparked to life. Dream looked at Ink with confusion, what was he doing?

When Ink pulled himself away from Nightmare, he gasped for air. “I-Ink? Where am I?” Nightmare said as he fell onto the ground. 

“You’re with Dream and I. And you know what we are to you?” Ink asked, placing his hand on Nightmare’s head, stroking him as if he were a cat. 

“My masters.” Nightmare said, purring as if he were pet. 

“See Dream? You can even make them think a certain way without directly controlling them. It’s very useful when you don’t want them waiting around for a command.” Ink explained, smiling.

“I generally like to do such things with a kiss, though if you find a method you like more, that’ll be good as well.” Ink continued.

“You kissed my before making me like you. How did you change me?” Dream asked, and Ink replied with a calming tone.

“I did that so you wouldn’t kill me, or do anything else that could jeopardize what we’re doing.” Dream nodded with understanding and saw Ink gesturing for Dream to give a command to Nightmare. 

“Come here Nightmare.” Dream told his brother, and Nightmare did so, his hands hanging in front of his chest, legs shaking, struggling to support him. 

When Nightmare stood in front of Dream, the smirk Dream had on his face became softer, replaced by a more genuine smile. He placed his hand to Nightmare’s face, and shed a tear. 

“Can we uncorrupt him?” Dream asked, and Ink nodded, 

“We can do anything we want.” Was the simple reply he received.

That day, Dream had his brother back. And he cared not how he had achieved such a day. Dream, with the help of Ink, managed to show Nightmare the multiverse, meeting all his friends and making memories. 

“I really hope you like Red. He may be mean on the outside, but he is really sweet when you get to know him!” Dream exclaimed, gripping Nightmare’s hand like his one and only lifeline. 

“If that’s what you say Mas-Dre-Brother.” Nightmare responded, smiling with contentment. 

Dream knocked on the door and Red walked out, when he saw Nightmare, he was about to attack. Dream snapped his fingers,  Red’s eyes shrunk, becoming pinpricks, all attacks disappearing. Dream and his brother were let into the house without hesitation. 

“So, what brings you and your brother here?” Red asked, a dull tone to his words, but unnoticeable when unaware of why it’s there. 

“Is it wrong wanting to visit a friend?” Dream responded, and Nightmare snickered. 

“Guess not. I’ll see if Paps wants to cook.” Red offered, but he and Dream soon burst into laughter. 

“I am not interested in a visit from Reaper, Red” Dream stated, as he rested a hand on Nightmare’s shoulder, needing the support from laughing so hard. 

“Me neither. How ‘bout we go to Grillby’s?” Red offered, serious this time. Dream nodded his head and grabbed Nightmare’s hand, leading him out of the house like he was a dog on a leash. 

Red walked in to the usual fanfare and welcoming of the Underfell residents, though things got weird when they asked who his guests were. After several minutes of stuttering, Dream got annoyed at the interruption and with another snap of his fingers, shut the bat up. 

“Let’s get a booth!” Dream announced and lead the other two to a table, where they placed their orders, Dream and Nightmare getting chocolate milkshakes while Red ordered a burger, fries, and mustard. 

Edge soon stormed in, furious Red had not reported to his post. He screamed and shouted, threatening to dust Red if he ever skipped without reporting to him at least. Dream was angry at the interruption, he remembered what it felt like to be angry, and he hated it. Dream got up from the booth and walked over to Edge. The taller skeleton began to cackle at the short little guy standing in front of him. 

“And what are you doing here sweetie? Get out of my way before I make you.” Edge threatened, and Dream scoffed. 

“It’s you who should be getting out of my way.” Dream said as he threw Edge out the window. Dream then walked out the door and placed his foot on Edge’s breastplate, fury boiling within him. 

“What are you?!” Edge cried as he had Dream’s hand wrapped around his mouth. 

“Your master.” And with that Edge went limp and got up, going home to sit on the couch until they were done.

Dream returned to the booth, sitting down as if nothing had happened. When he was given weird looks by everyone, except Nightmare, Dream sighed. Dream then snapped his fingers and everyone got rigid and stiff. Dream’s voice echoed through the bar. 

“You will not question me.” And everyone relaxed. 

The rest of the day went smoothly, no one questioned Dream when he snapped his fingers and people did things out of the ordinary, or when he snapped and hurt people getting in his way. By the end of the day, Dream was content with what he had done, and the day he had spent with his brother. 

Though, when he and Nightmare got back, Ink said it was time for business. Fun time was over, and Error needed punishment. 

Next

First

Characters belong to their respective owners

[huffpostarts]

The Very Best Holiday Presents For Dogs To Eat!

We've spent the last couple months testing as well as curating the most effective holiday gifts for dogs (and their individuals)-- and today's suggestions are all presents for your dog to EAT! If I needed to guess, I think today's possibly our dogs' favored day of the gift overview!

When it concerns screening edibles, I don't rely on the dogs. They do not have one of the most critical tastes. My initial step is to evaluate components to see if it's something I really feel comfortable giving them. Currently, I'm not a person that's "all health, constantly." I such as to balance a little bit of junk food from time to time. These victors, though, all rank actually very for being nutritious-- as well as I added our preferred supplements to balance out too many Christmas cookies. I had a tough time tightening it down, so right here are our favorite seven ideal holiday presents for dogs that they can EAT!

DGP

Let's kick this off with our supplement fave. I've covered this before, and if you have a dog with joint troubles or you simply desire preventative care, this is the one for you. DGP is all about sustaining flexibility as well as versatility, as well as if your dog is already on a glucosamine-type supplement, it can be included in provide extra support. Lucas has bad hips, as well as he's beginning to get a bit older-- though he appears unaware of that-- as well as likes to play at dog daycare eventually a week. It was taking its toll on his joints, but with the DGP, he currently appears to be rather solid. I'm SUPER satisfied with this supplement, as well as my big boy is going to stay on it without a doubt!

Indigo Triple Chews

Dental health and wellness is important, yet we aren't fantastic about brushing these guys' teeth. We look for oral products that maintain their teeth clean and their mouths healthy and balanced. The Indigo Triple Chews are by FAR our faves. They're digestible as well as grain-free. They integrate benefits by consisting of antioxidants as well as probiotics with the dental treatment. But why we enjoy them: They really are durable. We've tried every sort of dental chew, and also they complete them SO fast. Also quick for just how expensive they are. These seriously last longer than any other we tried. I desired a statistics, so I offered one to Lucas prior to I took a seat to write today. It took him from 3:24 up until 3:51. In my house, that's a Christmas miracle.

Fruitables Holiday Edition: Vanilla Snowflake Flavor

So, these deals with have without a doubt the very best story to them. They are made with genuine snows! Seriously! You can watch a video of them gathering the snow. These are tiny, crunchy treats that are made with 300 snowflakes in every bag. How funny and also adorable is that?! The active ingredients are quite allergy-friendly, as well. The deals with don't contain any wheat, corn, soy, man-made shades, or preservatives. While the young boys uncommitted too much regarding those aspects, they did gobble them up! I definitely like the story and also think these would make a very sweet stocking stuffer for any kind of fortunate pup!

Zuke's.

Complete disclosure: If you have a dog who is as food sensitive as Cooper is, Zuke's have actually not been the best deals with for him. Somehow, they actually intensify his sensitive stomach. For more details about dog sensitive food then visit https://petsish.com/best-dog-food-for-sensitive-stomach/ . The large young boys, on the other hand, couldn't. get. enough. We like Zuke's for training because they have a strong smell and are easily gotten into bits. These jerky ones, though, have a lamb that we're attempting with Coop, therefore much, so excellent! The other flavors are wonderful for the other dogs. There are a couple different beef options and turkey, as well. These jerky treats-- made from completely secure meat sourced in the United States and New Zealand, instead of China-- consist of genuine meat, carrots, blueberries, apples, as well as antioxidant-rich natural herbs. We damage them right into little items to make use of when we're collaborating with the dogs outside because the solid odor keeps them engaged. These are treats we NEVER wish to run out of!

Train-Me Treats.

We do a lot of training around here, and also we use treats for nearly every little thing from normal walks the block to instructing brand-new methods to dealing with whatever Cooper's brand-new fear-of-the-moment is. To keep them interested, we have to mix up the benefits. These training treats from Crazy Dog were brand-new to me, and they've been working so well. They're soft-- a lot far better than crunchy when training-- and all listing meat as the initial ingredient. They can be found in bacon, hen, and beef flavors as well as either 4-ounce or 6-ounce bags.

Animal Naturals of Vermont supplements.

Many years earlier, we drove from DC to Indiana. After that, later, from Indiana to Louisiana. After that, once again later on, from Louisiana to Indiana. Sigh. All those miles with the dogs is rather stressful, so we had actually been acquiring Pet Naturals of Vermont calming treats. They have a HUGE range of supplements beyond the preferred soothing treats, however, and we've been using the Daily Best for Emmett (although, I believe perhaps he needs the elderly formula) as well as the Skin + Coat. They're well-formulated as well as definitely have a great flavor-- the young boys gobble them up. Perk for any person with an allergy-prone dog: The Skin + Coat version is flavored with duck, making it more widely endured!

PetSafe 2-Meal Automatic Pet Feeder.

If you reside in a multi-pet house, this may not be the Christmas present for you (unless you have a feline that has separate access from your dog or something). My herd demands being fed at a particular time. Every. Single. Day. Breakfast is at 7. Dinner is at 5. I know not everybody has pets so diligent concerning their feeding times, yet these guys firmly insist. For a while, Coop was additionally eating lunch. And, actually, Newt gets a challenge toy mid-day. Anyhow, this item would certainly be a dream if you needed to do a mid-day feeding or if you had a late meeting or supper strategies and intended to feed your family pet on schedule. For a dog like Emmett-- that takes, roughly, 15 pills a day some of which need to be timed with dishes-- this would be a lifesaver if you needed to leave early/come house late. All you do is load the feeder, established a timer, and also TA DA! Your pet is fed the right amount at the right time, even if you have to go out or are running late! $34.95 for the 2-Meal (1.5 cups per side) version (HINT: The 5 cup version is coming later on in the week!).

Barker Kitsen deal with selection-- No much longer available.

You people, I'm in love. Can you be in love with a family pet merchant? I sure am! This online store is devoted to "under-the-radar items," which implies you're going to discover something NEW in their shop. I seriously enjoyed poking around, as well as I check out family pet items all-the-live-long day! From their objective: "The business's goal is to assist quality-minded pet owners make premium item choices to keep their family pets healthy and satisfied, while providing arising as well as unknown brands nationwide direct exposure as a circulation source for their products." As I claimed, I'm in love! They sent us a lot of deals with to try: Raw Bistro free-range bison liver and flaxseed deals with, natural pleasant potato treats from 2 Dogs Treats, Bixbi's Skin and Coat chicken bust jerky, as well as Scrappy Moo deals with. Not one of those deals with was a flop. We enjoyed them ALL. (Cooper can even consume the bison! Yippee!) And the product packaging is incredibly cute. Incorporated with the fantastic goal, I'm head over heels!

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home-Chapter 4

Warnings: Fluff. Language. 

The door to the creamery pulled open with ease beneath his ample muscles, and you wondered if he had ever accidentally broken things unaware of his own strength and abilities. The place was a new addition to the corner since you had last walked these streets, but was there ever such thing as ‘bad ice cream’?

“What’ll it be, Ms. Calvert? How about you save us a seat, and I’ll order?” He pulled out a black diner chair from a round table in the farthest corner of the quaint place. “They do have a mocha flavor that I would highly recommend though.”

You realized your hood was still up on your noisy raincoat even now inside, but you casually stalled removing it in his presence afraid your witchy, tangled locks would frighten him.

  “I’ll take your word for it then.” You handed him some cash you thought enough to cover your scoop, and he scoffed, pushing it back at you with super-hero reflexes.

“Your money is no good here, Mills. Don’t even think about it! Let me treat you, will ya’? I can’t take the risk of a tabloid snapping a pic of Steve Rogers letting a lady pay. You’d ruin me.”

God, he was all too much. The shit-eating, almost satanically handsome smile, added to his already chiseled, yet soft face. And the way he would chew on his lip like it was a popping piece of bubblegum nearly made you want to cry. We won’t even discuss the charm, though.

When his backed turned to you, your let your loose hair escape from under the cover of your coat, and Dodger watched you with judgement at your feet.

“How’s it look, boy? We don’t want your dad running the other way, do we.” You used the blank face of your phone to give yourself a once over, and applied some drug-store chap-stick to your lips for precautionary purposes, of course.

Chris paid the server, and gracefully carried your two scoops, his own, and a special treat for his canine companion over to you attentively. Placing one delicious treat in front of a very eager dog, he scooted the other empty seat closer toward your side of the table.

“A sweet for a sweetie.” He served you, releasing a breath of relief when he sat. He attempted a straight face, trying to make the line work, but lost his nerve and puffed out an uncontrollable laugh.

Sure, it was ridiculously overused, and probably classified as grounds for hysterical heckling to most. But, the cutesy compliment seemed to somehow pass off as endearing coming from someone such as he. So, you just thanked him, and laughed alongside.

“I should thank you again, Chris. For what you did with your friend, and the magazine. It was so beyond generous of you.” You licked the contents off the upside-down spoon between your lips bashfully. “But… I mean… I guess I’m just trying to figure it all out. How did you know? About what my blog even consisted of and stuff.”

He wasn’t making eye contact, but you could see the shadow of his lashes flutter into a smile as he played more with his treat than ate it.

“Okay. Confession?” He answered, leaning in closer to you. The chill of his breath from the bites of ice cream he had taken in felt like ice blended with fire across your face.

He had hired a PI to follow you and track your phone records for the last week. And he had searched the web history of your laptop seeing the fashion vlogs you kept up with, but also discovered all the times you had Googled his name?

You gulped.

“I have a fake account on social media, and I’ve followed you for a year or so now. Your mom sent a Christmas card and your picture was on it. Made me think about how I hadn’t seen you in so long. So, I searched you, found you, and I’ve sort of had a little insight into your life since.” The point of his tongue poked into his cheek, as he scratched a light graze through his hair. Appearing ashamed, or uncomfortable for some reason.

“Why a fake account, Chris? I mean, I would’ve loved to hear from you, silly.”

“There are all sorts of those people online pretending to be celebrities, and asking for money ‘n shit. I don’t ever want my friends to think they’re getting scammed under false pretenses. Thought it just the best idea, ya’ know.”

Dodger had finished his cup before it had even slightly melted, and a sticky, sugary sheen had settled into his whiskers. He rested his head on folded paws, closing his eyes due to the probable brain freeze.  

“In turn, that’s how I knew you were so damn talented, Amelia. You work hard, and I just think you should have something to show for it. Especially after that assho-“

“Wait.” You broke in. “What exactly do you know about that asshole?”

Laying it all out on the table, well most of it, and clearing the air of any falsified details that were embellished along the towns game of telephone seemed the mature decision.

Chris cleared his throat, and stretched, resting an arm over the back of your chair, appearing to get comfortable for whatever confessions to come. You could feel his hand almost reach out to pet over your back, but he pulled away frightened it may be out of line.

“Well, I heard… Mhmm…. I heard that you ran into his office one day in a jealous rage after he had hired a very…endowed paralegal. And when you just wouldn’t give up the feeling you had about him sleeping with her, he kicked you out. Then, you saw him out with the same bimbo a week later.” He closed his eyes, his face uncomfortable at the awkward timeline of your less than lucky turn in your relationship.

You palmed your own miserable face, exasperation and defeated mortification written on your every piece of reddening flesh. You felt shameful tears trickle before you could halt the unbreaking emotion.

“That’s what people are saying? Truly, that is what’s going around? I thought you said you heard everything from my mom, Chris?”

“I only heard you were getting a divorce from her, sweetheart. I didn’t get the rundown. That little tidbit I heard from my sister.”

The story had become much more potently twisted than you had ever expected, and it seemed somehow even from another state, your ex, Ben, had taken stance as the innocent party in matters. This jumbled wheel of false information would take much more effort than you were willing to give to clear up.

“God, no. No, no, no, no, no! That’s beyond the truth, Chris. I was afraid the story had been misconstrued, but not to this level. I literally saw him on his knees over top of her. Naked. In the floor of his office with his tie around her wrists…” You wiped your eyes, as if somehow the entire disaster would disappear if you could clear your frazzled, blurry sight.

“Welcome to my life, Millie.” The man huffed.

Here you had the gall to complain about a little nonsense murmuring around the neighborhood, and in the last year Chris had been in the scummy tabloids linked to several women, partying ‘too hard’ after a spilt, and deemed and ‘ass man’. Who really had it worse here?

“I don’t know how the hell you do it. I’m sorry. I had no right to complain whatsoever.”

He peeped to his left out the store-front window, only moving his eyeballs.

“Well, you’ll find out exactly what it’s like when that shithead with a camera standing out front slaps us on his headline tomorrow.”

Sure enough, carelessly in the middle of the street, stood a long-haired man in a ballcap, snapping pixelated images of you two seated in the dim corner of the café.

“I can see it now.” You announced, spreading your hands like examining a marquee sign. “Captain America spotted with unimpressive blonde woman at downtown creamery.”

Chris gestured a smile, but boldly reached up the squeeze the back of your neck under rain dampened hair. “Blonde, maybe. Unimpressive? Gimme a break, Millie. Don’t play fuckin’ bashful with me.” His subtle massages over the heat of your neck had you squirming in the seat below you. Maybe, you were pretending it was his leg. But that’s nobody’s business.

He saw something apparently you did not. Was there a memo you had missed?

“If you don’t know what the hell that dimply little devilish smile does to people, then you are sincerely misusing a weapon of mass destruction. Calvert.”

“Me?!” Some harlot buried inside of you possessed your body, and you scooted your chair an inch or two closer to him, punctuating your flirting with a squeeze to his thigh. “How about you put those oceans on each side of your nose away, Evans. And fess up to those lash extensions, will ya’?”

He wanted to kiss you. Or his tongue did anyway as it played and begged circles around his own lush lips. But not here. Not yet. Not for the world to see and break the internet.

He ruffled his hair, clearing the lumpy mass of battling self-control in his throat. You smiled, purposely, adding to his obvious already demise.

“Amelia fuckin’ Calvert, A trip you are, my dear.”

As he stood up, gathering the empty cups of sugary cream, he noticeably adjusted himself nearest his screaming manhood, and your eyes abandoned all loyalty to catch a glimpse. You followed him in standing, scratching a head over Dodgers head who had already risen to catch his owners’ heels.

“If it weren’t for this guy, I don’t think I would’ve accepted your dessert invitation. How could I say no to him after he spent his hard-earned allowance on that beautiful rose?”

“Well, I’m glad you two troublemakers have taken a liking to each other. You can keep him company some when I leave in two weeks.” Chris held the door open for you, carefully grazing the small of your back.

“Leaving?” No doubt he sensed the dread in your voice.

“Yep. We start filming on the 28th, so I’ll be wheels up the day before.”

The rain had passed on for the day, and Dodger was curious and keen to investigate every puddle planted on the sidewalk. He shifted too abruptly to the right, nudging your legs. You toppled, and tripped over your own feet towards Chris’ bubble, and he caught you by the hand. He didn’t have to do so by lacing his fingers into yours, or lingering there as long as he did, but you wouldn’t dare utter an objection.

“So, I expect you let me give you that tour of the house before I leave…..”

Mental note: Use your every dime of savings to buy the most lush set of lingerie on the continent.

Oh, you wretched, nymphomaniac. Don’t flatter yourself.

“What. The. Shit.”

Your lady-like cursing confused the flamboyantly kittenish man stepping in unison beside you, and he followed your suit to halt.

“Chris…” Your head hurt already from the deep v of your inquisitive brow. “My car, Chris. Where is my car?”

He looked upward at the street signs, double-checking that his distracted mind hadn’t discombobulated his sense of direction, and you had taken a wrong turn along the way. You immediately searched the deep pockets of your crossbody for your phone, and cringed, dropping your head back in defeat seeing a text from your once husband.

Shithead: Just getting all my affairs in order before we sign the divorce papers. Ooops, so happens your car was in my name.

“Mills. Talk to me. What’s happening?” Chris searched your face for some clue.

“I’m now carless. Along with homeless, and for the most part jobless. All thanks to my so overly generous husband, it seems.” You didn’t feel a shred of hurt, or pain, or sadness. But your dignity, and pride? Man, talk about shattered with an atom bomb.

“Not if I have anything to say about it, you’re not. Come with me. Let’s play with this son of a bitch a bit, shall we.”

As if you already didn’t want to mount him in the broad daylight….

TAGS: @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @miidailyinspiration

[missduplicities]

Chapter 43

Taehyung parked the car outside his house past midnight. He had been driving around the streets for a while, not really knowing what else to do. By the time he reached home, he had to force himself to get out of the car and walk inside the apartment, where Yeontan was patiently waiting for him.

“Hello, missed you too,” he said as he pet the little dog, who was jumping around, clearly happy at the sight of his owner. “Where are the others, huh?” he asked the dog, who followed him to Jimin’s room, which was the closest.

“Jiminah!” he called him, opening the door without knocking out of habit. “Oh, hi Sooah,” Sooah and Jimin were cuddling in bed, watching a movie of some sort. Sooah seemed very startled by the sudden appearance of Taehyung, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. “Good thing you’re here,”

“H-hi,” Sooah shyly said. A wide smile drew on Jimin’s face, noticing how she’d gone very flustered.

“Saw you went to the supermarket,” Jimin grinned, but Taehyung sighed defeated and walked straight to the bed where he sat, letting them know their date was officially interrupted. “What is it?”

“I need to talk,” he said, looking beaten.

“Oh, should I leave you alone?” Sooah asked, sitting up, ready to leave.

“No, I actually need you, too,” Taehyung said as he made his way in bed with them, lying on Jimin’s legs and facing the couple. Sooah turned to look at Jimin, just to confirm he wasn’t upset, and saw him smiling fondly at Taehyung.

“What is it, taetae?” he lovingly asked as he stroke his friend’s hair. Sooah felt a rush of love towards his boyfriend, but decided to deal with it later when they were alone. Taehyung dramatically sighed again as he looked for a way to say what he needed to say, but soon realized there was no other way to say it, so he just started.

“I want to talk about Seong Eunha,” Jimin and Sooah side-eyed each other without saying a word, so he continued. “I know she is both of you guys’ best friend, so I assume you probably know already that she likes me,”

“No way!” Jimin gasped, pretending to be shocked, earning a smack on the arm from Sooah who didn’t want Taehyung to be mocked.

“I guess we knew, yeah,” Sooah said, letting him continue.

“I didn’t know she liked me. Not until she told me,” he was getting nervous all over again, which was stupid since Eunha wasn’t even in the room. But Sooah was, and even though she was very sweet and nice to him, he was still afraid of how she might react. “Well, I know it’s okay to tell you because I asked her, and also because I know she’ll tell you anyway,”

“Tell us what?” Jimin asked, getting anxious.

“That I told her I liked her,” Taehyung finally admitted. Both his friends straightened up and looked at him fully surprised. “I hadn’t told you before,” he said looking at Jimin. “I guess I wasn’t sure. I didn’t realize until very recently,”

“That you like her?” Sooah asked just to confirm she had heard right.

“Yeah,” Taehyung shyly said.

“You like Eunha?” Sooah asked again, not giving credit to her ears.

“Yeah, I like Seong Eunha,” he said with a shy smile, but it faded away as he went on. “But, according to her, I don’t. She won’t believe me. She says I’m only confused,”

“I’m going to kill her, honestly,” Sooah sighed, getting frustrated with her friend that wasn’t even present.

“And are you?” Jimin asked. “Confused?”

“No,” Taehyung said, getting defensive. “Of course I’m not, I like her! I’ve liked her for a while now but I guess I was too stupid to admit it,”

“You were,” Jimin said.

“Thanks,” Taehyung glared at him. “I really like her,”

Jimin knew he was being serious, and that he was very upset, so he just kept on stroking his hair as Taehyung poured out his heart.

“You know I take these things very seriously. I’m not the type to go around looking for girls, getting dates, having one-night stands. I haven’t even had my first kissed,” he seemed a little embarrassed to say that last part, unaware that he was melting his friend’s hearts already. “I’ve always thought these things should be only reserved for love and not merely attraction. I know I should lower my standards maybe. And I know I push people away because I guess I don’t want them to hurt me, but I was stupid enough not to realize that I was hurting them by doing that.”

He made a pause, took a deep breath, then continued.

“The other night, the night she told me, I didn’t know what to feel. I guess I was excited, flattered, and maybe a bit nervous by her sudden confession. But I also was scared, because I knew I was hurting her. I had unconsciously been pushing her away, maybe not physically, but I backed down every time things got too serious. And I don’t want to hurt her, I want everything but that.” He left his place on Jimin’s legs and sat up, hugging his legs. “I can’t bare the idea of losing her.”

“Did you tell her all that?” Sooah said with eyes wide.

“No, because I’m an idiot,” he said, throwing himself back on the bed facing the ceiling. “She even asked me when I started liking her and I couldn’t answer,” he grunted, angry at himself. “So now she doesn’t believe me when I say I like her,”

“Look, if you ask me,” Sooah started, feeling sorry for the guy. “I think she’s just doing the same as you said, trying to put her distance so she doesn’t get hurt. Believe me, she’s been hurt. But I also know she’s scared to hurt other people,”

“So, you both are just as stupid,” Jimin said, losing his patience.

“Hey!” Sooah frowned at him. “Weren’t you in the same position when you said you liked me?”

“Yeah, but at least I was clear and told you,” Jimin said. “These two can’t even admit it to themselves,”

“Hi, I’m still here,” Taehyung said in a small voice. “And I actually came here for help,”

“Sorry,” Jimin sighed. “Taehyung, you should have told her all this,” “I didn’t get the chance. As soon as I told her I liked her she freaked out and we left the place. But I told her not to push me away,”

“You did?” Jimin asked, actually surprised.

“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t letting her push me away, but that I won’t try to rush things, that I’ll be waiting until she feels like we can talk about our feelings again,”

“My brave good boy,” Jimin threw himself to Taehyung and kissed him on the cheek, making Sooah laugh and Taehyung cringe. “I’m actually proud,”

“What did she say though?” Sooah asked the questions that mattered.

“She said ok,”

“Ok?”

“Yeah, well, she said something else but I’m not telling you,” as if I didn’t like you enough, he remembered her exact words and the sweet smile on her face. He felt nervous just by the memory. “She also wrote me a letter,”

“She did?” Sooah asked with a big smile. Of course, Taehyung didn’t know the reason, but he figured it was a good thing.

“I’ve been…” he was getting very shy suddenly. “I’ve been writing her letters. You already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” they both said in unison.

“But we don’t know the details,” Sooah assured.

“Yeah, she doesn’t tell us everything,” Jimin nodded, looking very convincing. “I guess that’s another thing you have in common,”

“Shut up,” Taehyung said, gently kicking him.

*

As soon as Eunha arrived at her room, she was boarded with questions by Ji-Eun and Midori, who had been watching from the small terrace in her room at Taehyung and her in the car.

“Where’s Sooah?” was the first thing she asked.

“Take a guess,” Midori said.

“Oh, she’s with Jimin this late?” Eunha asked, making both her friends laugh at her for going straight to mom mode.

“Are you really asking that after you just got out of your car date this late?” Midori teased, though she had a point. “So, how did it go?”

“Sit, it’s a long story,”

“Oh God,” Ji-Eun nervously said, sitting on the couch, which was the only furniture in Eunha’s room. “Should we wait for Sooah?”

“No, I can tell her later,” Eunha said. “But I hope she gets home soon,”

“I’ll let her know you’re here already,” Ji-Eun said, sending a text to her friend.

“So, what happened?” Midori asked, getting impatient.

“He texted me earlier and asked if I wanted to go out for dinner, to what I said yes, of course.” Eunha didn’t want to forget any details, so she had to go through everything that had happened that day. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! He transferred to your school,”

“He did?” Midori asked, very surprised.

“Yeah, and he doesn’t have any friends yet, so it would be nice if you hung together every now and then,”

“Are you asking me to babysit your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Eunha said, hating herself for doing so. “Well, the thing is, we met at the studio. Yoongi ran away, leaving us alone,”

“I love him,” Midori said, feeling even more admiration for him.

“We drove around for a while and talked about nonsense, you know, the usual,”

“Classic,” Ji-Eun said with a smile.

“Then we ended up in a restaurant where the waitress kind of flirted with me,”

“Waitress?” Midori asked, just to check she had heard correctly.

“Yeah, she seemed nice,” Eunha said absentmindedly. “So, you remember he wrote me those letters?”

“Yes, constantly,” Ji-Eun said.

“Well, I wanted to write a letter to him, too,” she shyly admitted. “So I did,”

“I love you,” Ji-Eun added, stumping her tiny feet to the floor out of pure excitement.

“What did the letter say?” Midori asked, getting excited too.

“Well, I just wanted to answer the ones he had written. And also to let him know he’s a great friend and a great person in general,”

“That’s my unnie!” Midori clapped, feeling proud of her braveness.

“Well, things didn’t go as expected,” Eunha said, still trying to understand what had happened.

“Oh, no!” Ji-Eun took her hands to her face, covering her mouth.

“Did he… did you get rejected?” Midori seemed too scared to ask, but she had to do it.

“No,” Eunha said with a straight face. “He said he liked me.”

Midori and Ji-Eun turned to look at each other, not knowing if they heard correctly.

“Come again?” Ji-Eun asked.

“He said he likes me,”

“And why aren’t you happy you psychopath?” Midori asked, losing her patience.

“Because I don’t think he does,”

“I swear I’m going to slap you,” Midori threatened.

“No, listen. I have to be sure, and he does too. But I don’t think he’s sure, and I’ve been there before. I don’t want him to settle with me just because he’s attracted to me or because he thinks I’m funny or interesting or whatever. I need him to be sure he likes me.”

“I get your point,” Midori sighed, finally empathizing with her friend. “But the good thing is he told you, right? I mean, you can only go up from here,”

“Yeah!” Ji-Eun reassured with a smile. “What did he tell you when you told him this?”

“He said he didn’t want to rush things. That he wanted to get to know me better, to be my friend, and that we can later see what we do about it,”

“He is a sweetheart!” Ji-Eun said, and Eunha had to agree.

“I thought he had one functional brain,” Midori jokingly said, but Eunha knew this was her way of showing affection. “It seems like he has at least three. Good thing he used them well this time,”

*

Eunha woke up the next day on the couch of her new room. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep; the last thing she remembered was Sooah coming home in the middle of Ji-Eun's TedTalk about romance tropes in books. They had been up until very late since Eunha had to tell her all the details.

Her pain was sore from the position she had fallen asleep in, which was the first thing that upset her that morning. The second was a text message from her boss at the coffee house, who remind her she needed to cover the morning shift that day, as they had accorded when she talked about resigning. That was officially going to be her last day working there, which was what she wanted, but she couldn’t help feel a bit nostalgic. That had been the first place that welcomed her when she moved to Seoul, so it was bitter-sweet to leave it along with the friends she’d made in the place. Her boss had always been nice to her, and he helped her out a lot during the first months when she messed up a lot. So, training the new barista was the least she could do.

After a quick shower and a trip to her old room to look for something to wear, Eunha joined Sooah at the kitchen for breakfast.

“Morning,” the youngest girl greeted with a smile. “Going out so early?”

“It’s my last day at the café,” Eunha said.

“And how do we feel about it?” Sooah knew she might be sad about it.

“I don’t know yet,” Eunha sighed. “I have lots of fond memories there,”

“It’s not like we’re not still going there every day,” Sooah said with a smile.

“True,” Eunha said as she put marmalade to her toast.

“What are you doing after that?”

“I don’t know yet, why? Want to do something?”

“We’re recording a video with the trainees,” Sooah said. “And I wanted to see if you could help us,”

“Sure, what kind of video?”

“Nothing too fancy, just a practice video,”

“Alright, but I’ll be done until past lunchtime,”

“Yeah, we have practice at their company before that, so don’t worry,”

“Is Jungkook coming?” she genuinely asked for him, she was missing her younger friend lately.

“Yeah, he’ll be there,” Sooah said with a smile. “So will Taehyung,”

“Why?” Eunha asked with a serious face.

“Well, because he’s the one who usually helps us with the videos,”

“So I’ll be her assistant?” she was a bit offended by the thought.

“Just be happy he’ll be there,”

“I didn’t think we’d see each other this soon,” Eunha admitted. “I thought I’d see him until next weekend for your birthday,”

“As if he wouldn’t look for the silliest excuse to see you before that,” Sooah had a point, but Eunha wasn’t going to admit it.

An hour later, Eunha was at the coffee shop, teaching the new barista the basics. The guy was a young high school kid who was working there as a part-time job; he seemed really nervous, which made Eunha instantly like him. She had a soft spot for teenagers, getting along with them most of the time.

“Why did you decide to start working here?” Eunha asked, hoping that making conversation would make him less nervous.

“I moved here recently,” the boy said as he cleaned the tables. “I don’t really know how to do much, and a friend suggested being a delivery boy or a barista.”

“You moved here on your own?”

“Yeah, just a month ago,” the boy shyly said.

“That’s really brave,” Eunha said with a smile. “I moved here on my own too, but I was much older than you at that time. I was lucky enough to move with a friend I knew from back home, so it made things easier,”

“Most of my friends are in another country,” the boy said.

“You’re not from here?”

“I lived in Australia for the past ten years. It was hard enough to get used to being the only Korean boy in the whole town,” he said with a shy smile. “It’s been harder here, I guess.”

“Well, let me know if I can do anything to make things easier, okay?” she said, passing him a cup of coffee for him to drink. “I mean it. I know it’s my last day here, but you’ll see me here often. And I’ll make sure to pass by just to see how you’re doing,”

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” the boy was blushing a little, which she found cute.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Now come here, I’ll teach you how to make an espresso,”

*

Taehyung dropped Jimin and Hoseok off at the studio, having the car for himself that day. He wished he had things to do, things that occupied his thoughts and made him stop thinking about Eunha. He had been thinking about her ever since he left her at her house last night. And after making sure things were okay between them via text, he had been reading and re-reading their conversations, not wanting to start a new one so soon.

He was glad Jimin and Sooah asked him to help with the video, at least he had something to do now. However, he had only found out Eunha was going to the recording, too. And now he was properly nervous.

He didn’t want to seem too anxious, so he took Yeontan for a walk and ran to the store just to make enough time. He took Yeontan with him, not wanting to leave him home alone.

When he arrived, he remembered what she’d said about the first time they met and felt a bit of a rush at the thought of it being a parallel of that day. He smiled when he caught her eye, and she smiled at him from behind the bar.

“Hello,” he said once he stood in front of her.

“Hi,” she said. “What can I get for you today, sir?”

“A strawberry lemonade, please,” Eunha grinned at his choice but didn’t say anything else. “I’ll be at the table outside,”

“Great choice,” she laughed this time, clearly seeing what he was doing. “I’ll take your order in a minute,”

“Thank you, miss,”

He walked back outside and chose the table he’d sat at the first time they met, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a dork. The weather was nice to be outside since it was a bit chilly but the rays of the sun were heating. Yeontan instantly curled up in a ball under his chair. Taehyung put a book out of his tote bag and started to read it when the guy who was sitting at the table next to him interrupted.

“Excuse me,” the guy called him in English, he was clearly a foreigner. “Do you have a lighter?”

“No, sorry,” Taehyung said in his best English.

He was annoyed by the fact that the guy had just assumed he spoke his language, but he decided to let go of it and went back to his book, only to be interrupted a second time.

“Do you know if I can smoke here?” the guy asked again.

“I don’t think you can,” Taehyung said, not sure if he had made himself clear. The kid who had been next to Eunha at the bar came outside, carrying a cup of coffee for the guy at the next table.

“A flat white, sir,” the boy said as he put the cup down on the table; Taehyung was curious about the boy’s accent, but decided to ask Eunha later. “Do you need anything else?”

“Do you know if I can smoke here?” the guy asked again.

“I’m sorry, I think you can’t,” the boy nervously said.

“What a shame,”

“Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, thanks,” the boy walked back inside, and not even a minute later, Eunha came out carrying Taehyung’s drink. He smiled as he realized she had decided to take it herself, instead of giving it to the new boy to take it to him.

“Thanks,” Taehyung told Eunha, making sure to look at her in the eye.

“You’re welcome,” she said, meeting his gaze and smiling. He felt electricity rush through his entire body. Eunha turned around, ready to go back inside when the foreigner guy interrupted.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said in bad Korean.

“Is everything okay?” Eunha asked in English. She speaks English, Taehyung was so used to adding things to the list now he did it automatically.

“Did you make this coffee?” the guy asked. Taehyung saw Eunha tense up and cautiously watched over the other table just in case.

“Uh, yeah,” Eunha said. “Is there any problem?”

“Yeah,” the guy said. “I believe you’ve ruined my life. This is the best flat white I’ve ever had,”

“Thanks,” Eunha nervously laughed, but Taehyung could tell she looked relieved.

“Now I’ll have to make sure to come here only when it’s your shift,” the guy said, leaning back on his chair. “I have to make sure you’re my personal barista from now on,”

“Oh, well, actually, it’s my last day here,” Eunha apologetically said.

“Well, that’s a shame,” the guy said, smiling at her. “I missed my chance to become a regular,”

Taehyung didn’t know when or why he had stood up. He just couldn’t listen to the ridiculous conversation anymore. He couldn’t keep on looking at the stupid guy giving heart eyes to Eunha.

“Excuse me,” Taehyung called, and Eunha instantly turned to look at him. “Can you… can you bring some water for my dog?”

Eunha turned to look at Yeontan, who was still peacefully sleeping under Taehyung’s chair.

“Sure, let me get it,” Eunha said with a smile and went back inside. A minute later, the new boy came holding a cup of water. Taehyung was disappointed to see it wasn’t Eunha who brought it, but at least the guy wasn’t talking at her anymore.

“Here’s your water, sir,” the boy said, handing the cup to him.

“Thanks,” Taehyung said with a smile.

“Do you need anything else?” the boy asked, still looking very nervous.

“No, thanks,”

He couldn’t wait for Eunha’s shift to finish. He needed to get out of there and spend the rest of the afternoon with her, away from stupid guys who tried to flirt with her. He was regretting what he said the night before about being her friend; it wasn’t going to be easy.

[ontarioyoga]

Is There Such Thing As Baby Yoga

New Post has been published on https://www.ontarioyoga.net/is-there-such-thing-as-baby-yoga/

Is There Such Thing As Baby Yoga

Learn The Art And Practice Of Prenatal And Postnatal Yoga Fertility Yoga Yoga For Menstruation And Menopause And Restorative Yoga

The signature Bliss Baby Yoga philosophy and methodology fuses scientific knowledge of safe practices with a holistic, spiritual understanding for a satisfying learning experience.

We offer an ever-growing array of specialised online yoga teacher training courses and classes, and professional development modules, taught by Ana Davis and her team of highly qualified and passionate women’s health experts.

Enjoy a softer, more feminine approach to yoga, embodying the sacred essence of Ahimsa , that will deepen your own practice and connection with your feminine body and soul, and enhance your teaching repertoire—from wherever you are in the world!

‘I have been using this book to help with postnatal depletion and my cycle and I can’t recommend Moving with the Moon enough! Ana is clearly passionate in her knowledge and understanding and has created a peer-reviewed educational resource that is easy to open and use at any section, depending on what you need help with at the time. There are treasures to be found for all woman; young, old, time poor, exhausted, trying for a baby, depleted from having a baby, menstrual disorders, all of us.

The classical women’s postures and restorative postures for women’s health are my go to sections, all beautifully illustrated. There’s even a Moving with the Moon playlists suggestions at the end of the book! Thank you, Ana, for your passion and the work that has gone into creating this resource. This will be passed down the family.’

In The First Few Months After Having A Baby The Last Thing Many People Want To Do Is Put On Some Work

Baby Yoga is a wonderful way to bond with your baby. Babies naturally love to be gently caressed and handled and practising Yoga is a perfect way to do this in a calm, relaxed environment.

There are many reasons why regular Yoga practice is beneficial to both parents and babies and here are our top five.

Issues To Watch For When Doing Or Teaching Yoga Is There Such Thing As Too Much Yoga Uncategorized

I have been doing yoga longer than I have been teaching it.  However, I have recently realized that in some cases anyway, there is such a thing as too much yoga.  Let me explain some issues that could hinder your yoga practice and why I say that.

Most of you that read my blog already know that my spine is fused from top to bottom.  But what you may not be aware of is that I am also hypermobile or “double jointed”.  Between the two, I finally figured out that I am doing too much yoga for ME.  Of course as I age, the hypermobility has decreased some, but it still has given me problems.

In a nutshell hypermobility is the looseness of the joints.  As a kid, this was a really cool thing.  Even as an adult I still manage to have some fun with it but in doing yoga, it can produce some issues for those with this condition.  For example, in doing down dog or any of the warrior poses, I have a bad tendency of locking my knees.  That means they bend a little backwards and create what I “thought” was stability.  It’s not a bad thing but in doing yoga, you really need to pay attention to the way your joints and bones move.  They all work together and if your joints are locking up it puts your whole posture out of whack.

mechanical problems

diseases and conditions resulting in joint damage

brain, nerve, and muscle disorders that damage nerves, tendons, and muscles

bone fusions

Are There Any Baby Health Conditions That Might Affect Its Use And Success

If your little one has any specific physical conditions such as ‘clicky’ hips, reflux or congenital disorders do consult your health visitor or GP before trying baby yoga. The great thing about baby yoga is that you can just take it to the level that both you and your baby feel comfortable with – it is not a competition! So just do the bits that work for your baby, stretching the parts of their body that are safe to be exercised. 

When your baby is or if they have recently had injections, be aware that they may be extra sensitive. In some instances baby yoga can be a good distraction for your baby, helping them to cope with these experiences. However, some babies may not enjoy doing baby yoga at this time. Your baby will make it clear if they are not enjoying it so always be aware and in tune with the signals they are giving off and react accordingly.  

Read more: How yoga can help keep pregnant woman and new mums stress-free

Baby Yoga Can Give You Better Rest Increased Flexibility And A Happy Baby

After nine long months, you’re delighted to have a sweet baby to cuddle and love. But a new baby means a new schedule, and you may find yourself with less time to focus on your health. It’s important to find an exercise regimen that is gentle enough for your body but is also challenging and exciting.

Whether you’re new to yoga or were a committed participant before you had your child, baby yoga is an excellent way to get you on a structured postnatal wellness path. “We recommend baby yoga for anyone who is looking for a healthy, playful bonding activity to do with a new baby,” says Lauren Chaitoff, co-owner of New York City children’s yoga studio Yogi Beans and contributor to .

Check out these nine reasons to do baby-centric yoga that will have you and baby feeling great in no time! 

It’s a Great Bonding Experience With Your BabyMom and baby programs focus on both of you. “We modify traditional yoga poses so that moms can practice yoga while holding and rocking their babies,” states Laura DeNino, baby yoga instructor at the Yoga House of Charleston. The result is time dedicated to bonding. 

You’ll Be Able to Ease Back Into YogaUnlike high-level adult yoga classes, child yoga acknowledges the changes that a new mom’s body has been through. You’ll work with your recovering and changing body instead of against it. 

So grab that yoga mat and find a baby yoga class near you. Your body and your baby will thank you! 

Care directory

What Is Container Baby Syndrome And Do I Really Have To Worry About It

All parents need a safe spot to put their babies down. But is there such a thing as too much time in a bouncer seat or activity centre?

July 7, 2021

Photo: iStock/Fly View Productions

The inverted metal V in the middle of my living room separated my life as a parent into two eras: the before-Jolly Jumper times, and after. Before-JJ, I bounced my colicky baby on a yoga ball for hours, cramming granola bars in my mouth with one hand. Post-JJ , I could sit and enjoy a whole sandwich while his delight at moving his own body beamed straight into my heart. These short breaks played a huge part in bolstering my mental health as a new mom.

Before long, though, guilt would start chipping away at my bliss. Yes, my friends and I cheekily called these types of products, especially Exersaucers or activity centres, “circles of neglect” . Despite the jokes, I knew I shouldn’t leave my son in the jumper for very long—it wasn’t good for his little body, I’d heard. But how long was too long? Would five more minutes spell disaster?

Stephanie So, a paediatric physiotherapist at Pediatric Physiotherapy Associates in Scarborough, Ont., who’s been advising parents on kids and healthy movement for more than 30 years, isn’t sure what to make of the label—“It sounds a bit negative,” she says—but she is aligned with the idea that parents need to be aware of the importance of offering infants safe opportunities to move freely and practise new skills, like rolling and crawling. 

Have You Ever Downplayed A Dream Did You Tell Your Friends Your Family

Here’s the thing: your dreams DO matter. How are they ever going to come true if you pretend they are not important?

In today’s episode, Rachel shares her own intimate dream. It is one that may not be possible for so many reasons, but by speaking her dream out loud, she just may be bringing herself one step closer to manifesting it.

Let today’s vulnerable sharing be a reminder that you can dream, too. You can get your hopes up. You can believe in the possibility of beautiful outcomes. You are a constituent of this universe, so you get a say in what happens!

Tune in to dream big and shout from the rooftops exactly what it is you want – the universe will be listening.

Baby Yoga: 10 Reasons You & Your Newborn Should Consider Practicing

Doing Yoga with your baby has a lot of health benefits, and there are many reasons why you should give it a try.

Yoga: the great mind, body, and spirit connective activity. Despite yoga being very popular, many are unaware that those invaluable connections can be explored outside of one’s inner self. In fact, mothers who practice yoga with their newborns can experience an entirely new type of connection among a variety of other great and positive benefits.

RELATED: 15 Moms Who Should’ve NEVER Worn Yoga Pants

In addition to getting comfortable in one’s new mom role, moms are often trying to get comfortable in their new mom’s body and get adjusted to their new mom hours. There is a pretty good chance yoga can help with all of that. Read on for more ways to get that mom and baby  on.

Top 5 Reasons Why Baby Yoga Is A Must Do For You And Your Baby

A lot of mums and dads think that baby yoga is mum and bub yoga. Well I’m here to dispel that myth and give you 5 very good reasons as to why it’s important for your baby.

A lot of yoga studios do mums and bubs yoga. Parents attend because they think it’s baby yoga and then are very disappointed because the emphasis is on the mum or dad. It’s just a yoga class that invites babies along and has nothing to do with true baby yoga. Yes it’s still very good for you as a parent but what does it do for your baby? Not very much.I can understand that disappointment. You were promised one thing and got something else entirely. And I’m all about the baby and the relationship building between parent and baby.

I’ve done my research, as always! And there are very few true Baby Yoga studio classes. One other that I know of is at Yoganic at Willoughby … http://www.birthlight.com/page/birthlight-australia-centre

They are the official Birthlight Yoga training affiliate where I did my Baby Yoga Diploma last year … http://www.birthlight.com/page/baby-yoga and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fBp3noYlyg

Babies are rocked and touched in utero and baby yoga looks at recreating that special bond and movement that was experienced previously. After birth, gentle movement and touch together are the basis of synesthesia . It is the way babies bring together their sensory experiences in a general way through an emotional interaction with their parents or carers. So what are the benefits of any yoga? 

Baby Neck Strengthening Exercises And Tummy Exercises

When it comes to baby exercises, neck strengthening and tummy time are key. “Babies spend so much time on their backs early in life that spending time on their belly is important to build strength in different positions,” says Sarah Johnson, PT, DPT, a pediatric physical therapist at Riley Children’s Health. “Developing the back, core and neck strength creates the building blocks babies will need to progress in their development of gross motor skills such as crawling, sitting up and eventually walking.” These allow baby to start supporting themselves and explore the world around them.

During tummy exercises and any baby exercises, also be sure to supervise at all times. When it comes to baby tummy exercises, don’t force baby. Start with just three to five minutes a day and gradually increase from there.

Is There Such Thing As Perfect Alignment In Asana

There isn’t, bodies are all different, but I do think there is a safe alignment and that is important to avoid injury. For ex if the pose asks you to bind and when you bind you get all twisted/bent in an unhealthy way, then modify by using a strap or skip the bind completely as long as you’re keeping the twisting motion, to the degree your body allows.

I also like to think of the “intention” of the pose, what I should aim I focus on . Here’s an example of breaking down a pose by its intentions https://www.yoganatomy.com/triangle-and-revolved-triangle-pose/

About The Instructor: Elizabeth Rudzki Green Ms

Elizabeth earned a Masters in Counseling Psychology from Loyola University of Maryland before returning to Pittsburgh, where she is thrilled to share her passion for yoga with her community. Elizabeth lives in Squirrel Hill and is married to her high school sweetheart. They welcomed Stella Marie into their lives in April 2013 and stay busy with 2 dogs, a cat and making their house a home. Elizabeth completed her 200 hour yoga certification through South Hills Power Yoga and is grateful to help others create flexibility of body and mind.

Hatha Yoga Guide: Science Benefits And Insights

In this comprehensive guide to the fundamentals of hatha yoga, yogi and mystic introduces us to this phenomenal science. In a series of articles, he corrects many misunderstandings about the process and explores how we can reap the maximum benefits hatha yoga has to offer.

The body is a very large part of who you are right now. The science of using the body to hasten your evolutionary process is hatha yoga. The body itself has its own attitudes, its own ego, its own nature. Let us say you decided, “Starting tomorrow, I will get up at five in the morning and go for a walk.” You set the alarm. The alarm rings. You want to get up, but your body says, “Shut up and sleep.” It has its own way, doesn’t it? Hatha yoga is a way of working with the body, a way of disciplining, purifying and preparing the body for higher levels of energy and possibilities.

Finding A Mother And Baby Yoga Class Near You

Baby yoga is really safe and easy to do in the comfort of your own home if you don’t feel like attending a class; all you need is a warm, safe and calm environment. Place a non-slip towel or yoga mat down on a clear space of floor and you and your little one are good to go! 

If you feel nervous about doing baby yoga for the first time on your own, then why not enrol in a local class to gain confidence. These will usually be run by baby yoga instructors. A quick Google search of mother and baby yoga classes near me will help you find one close by. 

However, if your baby is healthy and there are no known issues which could affect their enjoyment then you should feel empowered to go ahead!  This is a big workout for your little one, so go gently at first, reading your baby’s reaction and mood with every step. 

It Promotes Bonding Between You And Your Baby

The number one reason why baby yoga works so well for parents and their babies is that it strengthens the child-parent bond. After all, you’re in physical contact with your baby for most of the session. Given how busy modern schedules are, taking care of your baby can sometimes feel rushed because you’re juggling it with other items in your to-do list, but doing baby yoga allows you to slow down and spend time mindfully with your baby.

At the same time, babies need a lot of affectionate touch, especially from their parents and caregivers, and they can miss out on it when they’re always in strollers. Since baby yoga requires you to hold your baby a lot while paying careful attention, you deepen your bond and become more attuned to your baby’s body language and cues. After spending so much time in the womb, which is dark and enclosed, babies can become more comfortable with the outside world with the guided sensory stimulation from baby yoga.

It Gives You The Chance To Meet Other Parents

Baby yoga classes are only for parents and their babies, so you’ll be with people who can relate with what you’re going through. Some classes even encourage a certain theme or facilitate discussions about parenting, so it’s easy to start conversations and meet other parents. You can even hang around after the class to socialise.

Another great thing about baby yoga is that it provides a supportive, non-competitive environment where you won’t feel pressured and you can speak up about your concerns. In fact, it’s usually okay to stop or go out in the middle of the class to change your baby’s nappies, and you don’t have to feel self-conscious about your baby crying. Of course, your baby also gets to meet and interact with the other babies there!

Climbing Stairs For A Toddler Is No Mean Feat

To understand the full impact of how much effort a small child needs to exert to climb stairs imagine you, yourself, are a little toddler again and you want to climb your first stairs. Put the situation into proportion: those first steps you climbed were giant steps, reaching up as far as your thigh!

Could you do that today? Climbing thigh-high steps requires humongous effort from the thigh muscles. Try climbing stairs, three or four steps at a time!

Learning To Move Is Not That Easy For A Baby

From birth on, all humans embark upon a long and intense period of physical training comparable to the intensity of the training of an athlete. We all know and accept the fact that the movement vocabulary, fitness level, and endurance of children by far exceed the physical capabilities of adults, but why should this be so? In so-called “primitive” or non-urbanized societies this is not the case.

Baby Yoga What Is It And Why Should We Care

We explore the ins and outs of sharing a mat with your mini.

Melanie Dimmitt

When presented with the notion of yoga for babies, I scrutinized it as I would a designer diaper bag. A lovely idea, in theory, but do I really it? Amid the plethora of mommy-and-me offerings – music classes, French lessons, sign-language… even Salsa dancing – why choose yoga? Babies are naturally bendy, are they not? It isn’t called a ‘happy baby’ for nothing. However, on closer inspection, there’s more to baby yoga than child’s play .

First things first. What is it, exactly?

Baby yoga tends to mean one of two things – an adult yoga class that you bring baby along to, or yoga that is actually for your baby. In a parent-focused class, bub takes the role of spectator-slash-adorable-prop.

“The babies lie on a blanket in front of the parents’ yoga mat,” explains Neelu Shruti, of Love Child yoga studio in New York. “Throughout class, which includes upper body stretches and glute strengthening, we will include baby in poses such as ‘push-up kiss baby’, or hold baby while doing squats, lunges or abdominal exercises.”

Love Child studio’s Baby & Me Yoga class incorporates restorative poses and sequences well suited to new parents – so long as they’re okay with the occasional flow interruption and not-so-silent Savasana.

But there are, according to Neelu, ample reasons to abandon your landslide of laundry for a class such as this.

We’re listening.

Now… will a yoga mat fit in my new designer diaper bag?

Top Tips For Getting Started With Baby Yoga

Do your baby yoga routine when your baby appears active and is showing you they want to play and move. 

Do not do baby yoga if your baby is tired, hungry or has just been fed. Remember baby yoga is only beneficial for your baby if they are feeling happy and comfortable.

Don’t do baby yoga with your baby if you are feeling over-tired or uncomfortable yourself. Your baby may pick up on your signals and feel discouraged. 

Keep good eye contact with your baby as you do the moves. Really ‘tune in’ to your baby.  If you do this you can respond quickly to baby’s cues and check they are still enjoying themselves. 

Smile at your baby to give them reassurance.  

Never force the movements. If your baby is under five months they will have less range of movement at their shoulders, elbows, hips and knees compared with an older baby. Younger babies rely on this natural tightness to move, so it is important not to disrupt this. 

Start off with just a couple of repetitions, increasing length and duration as you learn together. 

Remember to show your baby how proud you are of their new skills! 

Ensure that your little one is wearing a well-fitting nappy such as Pampers Active Fit. This type of nappy will adapt to your baby’s movements because it has stretchier sides than ordinary nappies to help to keep your baby dry and protected no matter how much they move. 

Consult your health visitor or family GP if you have any specific concerns.

How To Learn Yoga From Your Baby Or Toddler

Juliette Kando is a dancer, choreologist, author on fitness and health, and Fellow of the Benesh Institute at the Royal Academy of Dance.

Happy-baby-pose also called Ananda balasana

Any parent who knows a little about yoga will agree that many of the movements made by babies and toddlers are very similar to yoga asanas. From a choreologist’s point of view this is not surprising since, upon analysis, yoga is very closely related to human movement development from birth onward.

This article explains the origins of human movement and demonstrates many naturally inborn baby and toddler yoga moves. While playing with your child you can copy those moves. Teat the child as your teacher. Together you can enjoy playing and discovering yoga as a fun and entertaining way to get fit.

Why Baby Yoga Classes Can Also Benefit Mom

Hopefully a little bit of a workout. Some yoga classes are gentle and/or focus a lot on playing games with the babies .

Classes at dedicated yoga studios tend to offer more workout and less playtime. There is often a focus on poses that help new moms relieve the strain of nursing and start to regain some abdominal strength.

Yoga Poses for Breastfeeding Moms

The ideal class from a mom’s perspective allows you to do as much yoga as possible while your baby isn’t upset. Because, let’s face it, your baby isn’t the one that needs this time and space to do yoga. You are.

You will also get out of the house to an environment that is not stressful where you will meet other new mothers. The value of connecting to this community should not be underestimated.

Is There Such A Thing As The Best Yoga Mat

Kate was looking for a new mat because hers was getting worn. The one she had was a lower quality, so it was beginning to tear in small areas. While it was nothing serious, she decided to begin looking for a better yoga mat. She was looking into many different websites and other resources to lean about how to find a good mat.

There are many different sizes and style of mats available nowadays, so Kate was having a little bit of a hard time deciding on just one. She wasn’t really sure where to go for the best prices, or best styles of many mats available.

So what are a few qualities that make a good mat?

•Shouldn’t be too hard or soft•Should have a side that is sticky•Length can vary •Price may be important to some people•Thickness should be at least 4 mm

Mats come in all sizes, designs and styles. Finding one that you think is the best is all up to you. There is no right or wrong mat. The first thing that you should look for in a yoga mat is comfort. Being comfortable with your mat is a big plus.

Mats usually have at least on sticky side. This helps to keep it in place and from sliding all over the place. As far as the length of the mat goes, this is another personal preference. Some prefer longer mats as you can move around more on them. These types are great for taller people.

Picking the best mat for you doesn’t need to be a chore. There are many sites that can help you find the best deals and mat just for you.

Limit Babys Activities To No More Than 15

Most yoga classes are between 45 minutes to an hour. That’s fine for mamas, but that length of time is too much for babies. While a baby is more than welcome to have some tummy time or sit and babble happily away while you perform additional, restorative or strength-building poses, your baby should only be actively doing yoga for 15 or 20 minutes. Anything more than that can overtax his/her already busy and developing body.

Why Do Children Love To Hang Upside Down

We always have a special treat at the end of a children’s ballet class. I, the teacher, pick up each child, by their ankles and hang them upside down; one at a time, of course. “Again, again!” they shout when they are upright again. Children often know instinctively what is good for their hard-working bodies.They love hanging upside down because it helps them stretch, relax and grow; it reverses gravity, takes the weight off their little growing bones.

How To Give A Mummy And Baby Yoga Class Charlie Stewart-Brown

Teaching a Mummy & Baby Yoga class is a joy for a yoga teacher, but more importantly for the mum and baby.  It’s a wonderful activity for them to do together and a lovely opportunity for them to bond in a different environment.  I set up the first ever class of this type in Switzerland and it’s become increasingly popular across the country.

The mums get to know other mums in their area which is especially nice if it’s their first child or they’re expats living in a country away from their family and home friends.  It can be an especially difficult and lonely time for mothers who work and are on maternity leave, who often struggle with their change in identity, productivity and even boredom.  Mummy & Baby Yoga classes are a great opportunity to socialize with other women in the same boat and do an activity for themselves, without having to pay for childcare.  More often than not the mums in my classes would go for a coffee together afterwards and the babies became friends too!  The babies are fascinated by one another and it’s beautiful to watch them develop more and more each week and start interacting together.

The Yoga Instructor Should Be Certified

Certifications and credentials are always a good thing to verify when trusting your well-being – and your baby’s – to someone else’s expertise. However, yoga certification should be an essential “prerequisite” before enrolling in a class. 

First and foremost, the instructor should be trained and experienced in teaching parent-and-baby classes, understanding which postures and holds are safe, and which aren’t, to keep your baby safe. Your safety is also a priority. Your connective tissue is still very elastic from the hormonal changes that took place to accommodate pregnancy, labor and delivery. Postnatal classes should support that, keeping you safe from stretches or postures that could lead to potential strain or injury. 

If you find out your baby isn’t as into the classes as you are and you opt to take a yoga class on your own, make sure to inform the instructor you are XX weeks postpartum as s/he will probably amend certain poses for you until you’re body is further along in its recovery.

Playing With Your Child At Ground Level

Instead of sweating it out at the gym, why not just play with your child at ground level in a physical conversation to discover three things:

Babies and little children can teach us the basics of yoga.

Children prove the benefits of hanging upside down.

Your body has done all this before.

As soon as you start learning yoga from your child the muscular system begins to remember long forgotten moves from the days you yourself were a baby, then a toddler, exploring the wonders of human movement capabilities. How blissful was this very short pre-school time, before you, like all other children in formal education, were told to “sit still and behave.” From then on we all became bound for life to chairs, tables, and desks. Here is a unique opportunity to re-live that wonderful youthful, carefree and happy time with your baby or toddler.

Benefits Of Postpartum Yoga For Mothers

It helps ease new parent jitters. Get started by attending a class taught by a trained instructor — it’s a safe and structured way to engage with your baby.

It’s a little TLC for your body. Any kind of yoga gives you an opportunity to nourish and care for your body through focused stretches and mindful breathing exercises, which is especially important after carrying a baby for nine months and then giving birth!

It stretches and strengthens the muscles that need the most TLC. The gentle movements and mindful breathing that are integral to yoga boost abdominal strength and activate the pelvic floor muscles, which aids recovery from giving birth, while classic poses — from upward facing dog to cobra — help open up the shoulders and chest you rely on for all of the rocking and cradling you do in the first few months with your baby.

It helps you meet new moms. After baby is born, you might not have as much time for socializing. But it’s reassuring to talk to other mothers who are going through the same experiences as you are. Yoga class provides a safe and nurturing environment for new parents to discuss worries and concerns. You’re not alone!  

It helps you and your new baby bond. Yoga is a healthy, playful activity you can enjoy together. 

Is There Such A Thing As A Yoga Expert

I was speaking recently with some yoga colleagues and interestingly, we had all shared a similar experience:

the experience of ‘discovering’ something in our practice and then at some point being in a class where the teacher taught ‘our’ discovery,

of realizing that we had actually been taught that so-called discovery a hundred times before, but just didn’t ‘hear’ it!

I found it quite amusing that this was such a common experience. When I reflected on why, the following 2 thoughts came to mind…

So much is conveyed in a class that I think because it means the learning never stops.

In my opinion, there is no such thing as a yoga expert. BKS Iyengar teaches to approach the mat each day ‘as a beginner’. I understand this to mean that no matter how much progress I’ve made, knowledge I’ve gained, classes I’ve taught, there is always the potential to learn more, to delve deeper. As the asanas penetrate, I change. And as a result of that change, I’m forever a beginner learning to understand my state of being . While not easily embraced, I believe this process to be humility at its best.

So why do I blog about yoga?

Despite not being a yoga expert, I blog. Should I? I don’t know, but upon reflection I think my intentions can be summed up in 4 main points:

I blog to share my passion for Iyengar Yoga with others and hopefully ignite a spark that might lead others to their own mat.

Is There Such A Thing As Too Much Yoga

I don’t know why I was surprised that there was two yoga classes a day, during my week long yoga retreat in Mexico. It was a friggin’ yoga retreat!! The classes were wonderful, but I was a little bored. Why did I go? Someone had put it on my to-do list. Oh, yeah, that was me. Once it’s on there, it’s on there.

Haramara Retreat has no electricity, no internet and you can’t flush your used toilet paper. Simply throw it in the wastepaper basket and call it a day. I found this curiously fun. It did take a couple of, “Oh, crap, I put it in the toilet.” I was afraid that the retreat police was going to knock on my hand-built, environmentally-conscious cabana door and put me in a time out. Or worse, make me fish the toilet paper out of the bowl.

We had fresh, local, organic food and fruit I’d never heard of. There were unpaved trails, a private beach with climbing rocks, an infinity pool overlooking the Pacific Ocean and really stupid sand crabs. The crabs would climb, or rather side shimmy, up the tropical hillside and then die. Weren’t they going in the wrong direction? Every night, walking back to our rustic and built without machinery, cabanas, we’d step over dead crabs in the path.

The ocean was rough and loud, which lulled me to sleep each night.

I loved the open air shower, with its unobstructed view of the ocean. I didn’t worry about my hair clogging the drain because there wasn’t a drain. My strands gracefully and peacefully became one with the jungle.

Baby Exercises To Get Your Baby Moving

When you think about exercise, you wouldn’t tell babies to drop and give you 20. But the Society of Health and Physical Educators recommends that all children up to age 5 do some kind of physical activity every day. And yes, that means babies too. Baby exercises are an important part of infant development. Infant exercise can help strengthen baby’s neck, help develop their hand-eye coordination and help baby learn to walk. So where do you start? From strengthening to baby yoga exercises, it’s time to get baby pumped to move with these baby exercises.

In this article:Baby hand-eye coordination exercises

What Does This Mean For Yoga Teachers

So here’s the big question: What does this mean for you when working with a student who has had a hip replacement?

Proper exercise after surgery can reduce stiffness and increase flexibility and muscle strength, so yoga is a good thing for this condition. But how much and how soon are dependent on many factors such as physical health before the surgery and presence of chronic conditions that may affect the speed of healing. In the past this surgery was reserved mostly for older patients, as artificial hips didn’t last as long as they do now, and having a repeat hip replacement is possible but not desirable. But as technology has improved, so has the number of years the prosthetic parts can be relied upon to serve their purpose. So now it is more common to see hip replacements in younger people, who may be in better overall physical condition and who will heal faster.

So what restrictions should students with THR follow and for how long? The answer is, it depends. The goal is to avoid disturbing the healing process after surgery, and once healed, to preserve the function and integrity of the artificial joint for as many years as possible. Total rehabilitation after surgery will take at least six months for most people.

So when a student tells you they have a hip replacement, first, ask how long ago the surgery was, and whether their procedure was the anterior or posterior approach.

Getting The Word Out About Your Class

Feel free to leave a comment or let me know how it goes if you set up your own Mummy & Baby Yoga classes.  For any question, please join and post your question on the Facebook group:  Yoga Teachers Advice Forum and you will get advice from myself and over 130 yoga teachers worldwide.

Take care and breathe deep.

Standing Walking Climbing And Running

Before a baby learns how to stand upright to walk, it has to perform thousands of deep squats, most of which fail and end up plonking their butt on the floor. A nine-month-old little athlete grunts and puffs for strength to get up and to find balance.

They never give up until they can walk, run, skip, and jump. Why does this drive for moving ever have to stop?

It Eases Tension And Gets You Moving

As a parent, baby yoga will also be beneficial for you! Baby yoga is still a type of yoga, so you’ll experience a lot of the usual perks associated with regular yoga classes. Through the modified poses and guided breathing, you’ll be able to relax more, sleep better, and let go of tension. If you’re consistently putting your baby’s needs first before your own, you have to practice self-care too so you won’t experience burnout. 

While both mums and dads can do baby yoga, some classes cater specifically to mums, offering postnatal exercises that put them back on track with their fitness. Since a mother’s body has gone through plenty of changes recently, these classes emphasise muscles such as the pelvic floor, back, and tummy. Aside from easing back pain and speeding up recovery, baby yoga can guide mums into building up strength and flexibility again.

It Helps With Your Babys Development

The most obvious impact of baby yoga is that your baby becomes more at ease with their body. Baby yoga serves as both exercise and play for them. Not only do babies love being lifted and stretched in the right way, they pick up better body coordination too with baby yoga. For example, when you lay your baby on their tummy, neck and upper body strength become enhanced, so it’s good to put your baby in different positions. Exercises where babies cross their arms or feet over the midline of their body can even contribute to brain development

Whatever stage of life we’re in, stimulation is necessary for us to grow and develop and it’s the same for babies. A baby yoga class offers variations in movement, visuals, and even sounds. Because they’re in a controlled environment, babies become better at processing different stimuli without being overwhelmed. Beyond body awareness, they also form a better sense of the physical space around them.

There Is No Such Thing As A Due Date

Us women are impatient creatures at times. The most frustrating part of pregnancy is probably the ‘due date’ wait. To be given a date of when to expect to be holding your baby in your arms, is asking for stress levels to rise and frustration to build! Imagine being told you’ll win the lottery on the 1st March, to then wake up and realise it ain’t happening. All of that excitement to get to this one date, and it came and went in a flash with no prize!

What we need to remember is that these ‘dates’ are based on every woman having 28 day cycles and conceiving their baby on the 14th day of that cycle. It’s also assuming that all women have the exact same length of pregnancies and all babies are ready on the exact day too. Basically, it’s an estimate. A very rough estimate. For labour to begin remember, our minds and our bodies need to feel calm, happy, safe and relaxed. Spend time doing things that make you feel wonderful – watching your wedding video, browsing old photos, going to your favourite restaurant, watching The Notebook… if your body sense stress of any kind , it’ll keep your baby in longer!

Breathe in, breathe out, and let your body do it’s thing. And if it’s not too late already, don’t tell people your ‘due date’! ?

Which Gravity Inversion Table To Get

I recommend the Teeter Inversion Table because after all these years of using cheaper models I have come to the conclusion that my current Teeter Inversion Table is the easiest to assemble and to use, with the most sensitivity for balance, without jerking as most of the others did. The Teeter is also the most comfortable on the ankles for prolonged use.

What Do We Wear And Take To A Class

Parents and babies should both wear loose, comfortable clothes that are easy to move around in. Jogging bottoms, loose t-shirts or vest tops are ideal.

For babies, I would recommend a sleepsuit with a short-sleeved vest underneath. Sleepsuits are comfortable and easy to whip off when needed.

During the baby massage you will have to take off the sleepsuit, hence the need for a vest. Some babies don’t mind being only in a nappy, whereas others hate it. Both of mine did when I took them to massage classes!

Most classes will tell you what to bring when you book a place, but a towel and/or a yoga mat will most likely be necessary. Some classes will provide the mat depending on where you go.

Many classes take place in a village hall or similar, where the floor can be cold and hard, so a mat is essential. Having somewhere warm and soft to lie your baby down is vital. Babies won’t relax if they’re not comfortable.

I’d also recommend bringing some water. It looks like gentle exercise and it can be taken slowly. However if you’re a newbie or trying to get in shape again, it’s going to take you a little while to get back into things!

Exploring The Benefits Of Baby Yoga

Beate ChungCertified Yoga Instructor

Beate has taught yoga as a certified instructor in the US for over 7 years then she moved to Taiwan in 2010 to open her first yoga studio.

Baby yoga doesn’t seem to be as familiar a term as yoga itself, but more and more parents are seeing the benefits of yoga as a form of exercise that can help them bond with their little one while promoting the development of their babies’ gross and fine motor skills. This practice comes with many physiological benefits. It also improves social interactions among new parents and their babies. Let’s have a look at the benefits of Baby Yoga!

What Are The Benefits Of Baby Yoga

Baby yoga mixes physical touch with emotional contact and movement. The meaningful touch and play used in baby yoga gently encourages your little ones to enjoy and explore their newfound skills as they start to progress and move in different ways. Even if you only do it for 5-10 minutes at a time you will really notice the benefits such as bond and communication.

For Your Baby Stretch Sense Sleep

Babies are extremely limber and this dexterity can help them perform basic yoga poses with ease. Obviously, the stretches are guided by an instructor or the parents. Yoga can help the baby sleep in more regular intervals, and the stretching and posing foster the baby’s gross and fine motor development. The practice has also been found to be effective in promoting better digestion, preventing constipation and relieving colic in infants.

For Yourself Touch Attach Connect

Aside from the physiological benefits, baby yoga fosters deeper emotional attachments between the parent and the baby. Throughout the exercises, the parent holds and touches the baby and the sedation of touch helps strengthen paternal or maternal bonds. The sensation of touch also promotes circulation, which gives both the parent and infant feelings of calm and relaxation. Parents who enroll in baby yoga classes are also given the opportunity to socialize with other mothers and fathers and discuss “new parents’ stuff”. The classes are also great places for babies to interact with other infants for the first time.

Is It Safe To Do Yoga With My Baby

There are so many reasons why doing yoga with your baby is a fantastic idea. In addition to getting you out of the house and into the world of mamas who are on the same journey as you, taking a Mommy-and-Me type yoga class is a sweet way to bond with your baby outside the confines of the normal daily routine. 

Additionally, yoga is a safe, healthy way to speed up your postpartum recovery. It strengthens core and pelvic muscles, and rebuilds strength, flexibility, and balance in your post-pregnancy body.

That said, safety is always always the top priority for you and your baby. Check in with your OB before signing up for a class. Most physicians recommend postpartum moms wait at least six to eight weeks before getting back into an exercise routine, and you may need to wait longer than that depending on your labor and postpartum recovery process.

Yoga safe and fun to do with your baby as long as you adhere to the following conditions:

Benefits For Both Baby And Parent

I noticed my daughter often has a great lunchtime nap after baby yoga practice. This used to happen after a baby massage class too so it didn’t surprise me to learn they share many of the same benefits, including promoting restful sleep through active play. I asked my baby yoga teacher Sam, from Vital Cores in London, what the other main benefits of baby yoga are:

Strengthening parent and baby bonding through interaction and touch

Mobilising the baby’s hip and shoulder joints

Activating and stimulating vestibular system

Strengthening the baby’s essential neck and core muscles

Developing the baby’s language skills through singing

Aiding digestion by relieving constipation and trapped wind

Toning the baby’s digestive system

For me, another huge benefit to attending baby yoga classes is the social aspect of meeting other Mums and babies. It also helps add some more structure to the day and gives me something different to do with my baby. In the classes I attended, each week there was a different theme so even with set routines to follow it still felt new and entertaining.

Baby yoga is suitable for 12-week old babies until they are pre-walking. We started them when my daughter was around four months old and have continued to do so every week since. The classes are currently moved online due to social distancing measures and this has worked just as well, giving us more positive things to do from the home.

Origin Of Human Movement Behavior

The development of human motion in a Darwinian sense began from

climbing trees to standing, to cave dwelling and

running upright to escape from predators

while carrying a baby or a weapon

Evolving this way, humans developed quite a unique and technically challenging vocabulary of movement. Re-learning kids moves helps to become agile and comfortable at all levels of action. Be it squatting, crawling, climbing or hanging, jumping or running. Coincidentally or possibly devised by really wise people, many yoga asanas represent basic positions needed to achieve such a rich movement vocabulary that small children possess naturally. The amazing thing is that kids do it automatically and with great ease. It may be time for us to find our physical inner child?

What a big heavy head the baby has to learn to carry!

What Age Can You Start Baby Yoga

The best time to start is probably after your baby is 6 weeks old, once you have had your check and the baby has better neck control to keep them safe. By then you will also likely have more confidence. Always look at your little one to check their reaction and to ensure you are doing things they enjoy, it is all about really simple yoga stretches, not complex moves. If you have any concerns at all then consult your health visitor or GP.

It Enhances Your Babys Wellbeing

The movements in a baby yoga class are specifically designed to enhance your baby’s wellbeing. Babies find repetitive movements soothing, and their cortisol levels—or the amount of stress hormone in their body—naturally go down, resulting in a stronger immune system. As a result, babies aren’t as prone to strong ups or downs and crying fits, and they can fall asleep more easily, meaning more time for you to rest! Some poses can even improve digestion, so you might notice that your baby has fewer issues with colic or wind after a baby yoga class.

When Should We Start Baby Yoga

You can start baby yoga as soon as you like. It really depends on when you feel ready, especially if you’re a mum who has just given birth.

Ideally wait until your six week check-up so your GP can give you the all clear for exercising. This is important if you’ve had a C-section, or have had any postnatal complications.

Dads can take their babies whenever they like – there’s no reason to wait. It can really help dads and their babies to bond, particularly if mum is breastfeeding.

Will Your Baby Like Yoga Class

This depends a lot on the personality of the baby. Some delight in the new sights and stimulation of the classroom environment and are perfectly content to look around and take it all in. Others are freaked out by the very same stimulations and may cry a lot at first. They may eventually get used to it, so don’t give up if the first class doesn’t go well. A few babies may snooze through the whole thing.

Is Baby Yoga Actually A Thing

Baby yoga is pretty much what it sounds like – yoga with our babies. It’s much gentler and slower compared to traditional yoga. A lot of the moves are adapted for, or to do with, babies.

You don’t need to know anything about yoga to take part in a baby yoga class – you just need a baby!

It can be a very relaxing experience for the two of you as doing gentle exercise, such as yoga, releases endorphins. These hormones encourage happiness and more love for your baby.

This can help with bonding, which is particularly great for dads. Attending a class can also help you to meet like-minded parents in your area – something which can be difficult when you’re a parent!

Try A Nearby Baby Yoga Class

Make sure to do baby yoga in a class with a trained and certified instructor rather than on your own. Keeping your baby safe and secure is a priority, and a proper baby yoga teacher will let you know about important body mechanics, such as keeping your baby’s head supported if they’re less than six months old.

Once you do find the right baby yoga class, you and your baby might enjoy it so much that you’ll be really excited for the next session! Baby yoga brings the benefits of yoga to both you and your baby, and you’ll feel the difference right after.

A Tutorial For Yoga Teachers

Have you ever had a student come to your class, having recently had a total hip replacement, and tell you her doctor gave her no restrictions in movement whatsoever, encouraging her to do whatever she likes? It can and does happen — and you’re right if you’re suspicious as to whether the doctor is giving correct advice.

But are you prepared to help such people participate in your class safely? I hope in this article to help you do exactly that.

Anatomy Of A Hip Replacement

First, I’d like to take you through some basic hip anatomy, and acquaint you with how the joint is actually replaced.

In recent years, there have been advances in the way total hip replacements are being done. A significantly different approach now coexists with the earlier approach, with the result that we yoga teachers need to know more about hip replacements than we used to need to know. In particular, we need to revise the precautions that we have been offering to yoga students who have undergone this orthopedic surgery.

The following illustration and explanation will help you understand what hip replacement is all about:

A total hip replacement is a cup-shaped indentation in the pelvis.

During hip replacement surgery, the head of the femur is removed and replaced with a metal ball set on a stem. The stem is inserted into the canal of the femur. It may be fixed in place with cement, or the stem may be designed for placement without bone cement. The socket is sanded down to healthy bone, and a plastic cup or socket is held in place with screws and/or bone cement.

Hatha Yoga Prepares The Body

Another aspect of hatha yoga, when one wants to move into deeper dimensions of meditation, is that it allows for a higher possibility of energy. If you want your energies to surge upwards, it is very important that the pipeline of the body is conducive. If it is blocked, it will not work, or else, something will burst. Preparing the body sufficiently before one goes into more intense forms of meditation is very important. Hatha yoga ensures that the body takes it gently and joyfully.

Today, the hatha yoga that people are learning is not in its classical form, not in its full depth and dimension. Largely the “studio yoga” that you are seeing today is unfortunately just the physical aspect of it. Just teaching the physical aspect of yoga is like having a stillborn baby. That is not only no good, it is a tragedy. If you want a live process, it needs to be taught in a certain way.

Hatha yoga does not mean twisting your body, standing on your head, or holding your breath. There was a time when I was personally teaching hatha yoga as a two-day program. People would burst with joy; tears of ecstasy would flow simply doing asanas. That is the way yoga needs to be done. Unfortunately, the hatha yoga in the world today brings peace for some, is healthful for others is and a painful circus for many.

More Energy While Parenting

Although it may not seem that way initially, additional exercise does actually provide the body with more energy. While getting your parenting on, get more energy to continue parenting later, because as we know, it is a 24-hour job by exploring poses and ways to alleviate stress through yoga.

The best part? You get to do it all with your little one. Mommy and me yoga helps mom prepare for the rest of her day and gives that added energetic boost she needs.

Yoga For Babies: Is It Safe

27 February 2012

They may not be able to walk or talk, but they have no problem arching their bodies into the downward dog pose. Yes, toddlers and babies are doing yoga — studios now offer classes for kids as young as 6 weeks old.

Yoga advocates say the classes can help parents and infants bond, and promote development of motor skills. And just as yoga helps adults become more aware of their bodies, yoga can help parents become attuned to their babies wants and needs, said Helen Garabedian, founder of the Itsy Bitsy Yoga, a yoga studio for babies and kids, and author of books by the same name.

Doctors say , like any movement, can be beneficial for babies, but parents need to take precautions to do it safely.

Yoga poses

Garabedian started her yoga practice for babies, toddlers and kids in 1999, as a way to share yoga with her own children and bring like-minded parents together. One pose called “baby planet” involves a parent lifting a baby’s arms to her side as the baby lies on her back, and then bringing her arms to her chest. A pose called corkscrew, which Garabedian says aids digestion, involves placing the baby on his back and slowly rotating his thighs with your forefingers.

Toddlers can try the “down dog” — in which the hands and feet remain on the floor while the hips are elevated. There is also the “up dog,” in which the child lies down on her belly, then lifts her head and chest by extending her arms out straight, and resting on her palms.

Yoga risks

Benefits Of Yoga For Babies

Helps develop motor and sensory skills. The simple stretches and poses can help your baby gain self and environmental awareness. Of course your baby doesn’t need to be running marathons right out of the womb — but experts believe that early activity can help your little one develop voluntary movements, which can build a strong foundation for sports, dance and exercise later on in adulthood.

Aids in digestion. Apanasana, or knees-to-chest pose, has been shown to alleviate constipation, gas pains and .  

Promotes better sleep. Although it’s not guaranteed, some parents report their babies sleep better after attending baby yoga classes.

The Science Of Hatha Yoga

Hatha yoga is not exercise. Understanding the mechanics of the body, creating a certain atmosphere, and then using body postures to drive your energy in specific directions is what hatha yoga or are about. “Asana” means a “posture.” That kind of posture which allows you to reach your higher nature is a yogasana. There are other dimensions to this, but to put it in the simplest way, just by observing the way someone is sitting, you can almost know what is happening with him, if you have known him long enough. If you have observed yourself, when you are angry, you sit one way; if you are happy, you sit another way; if you are depressed, you sit another way. For every different level of consciousness or mental and emotional situation that you go through, your body naturally tends to assume certain postures. The converse of this is the science of asanas. If you consciously get your body into different postures, you can elevate your consciousness.

There are thousands of people who have come out of spinal problems by doing simple asanas. Doctors had told them they would definitely have to go through a surgery, but they never had to. Your back can be restored to such an excellent condition that you will never need to go to a chiropractor. It is not only your spine that becomes flexible; you also become flexible. Once you are flexible, you are willing to listen, not just to someone’s talk; you are willing to listen to life. Learning to listen is the essence of a sensible life.

Details Of The Procedure

Want to get a look at how this procedure is done? Well, don’t get your own hip replaced unless you need to. Instead, go to the following website to try your hand at being a virtual surgeon by replacing a hip with the traditional “posterior” approach: www.edheads.org/activities/hip/

It is quite a fun and enlightening exercise. Don’t worry if you are squeamish; it is animated so there’s minimal blood and guts. The best thing is, nobody gets hurt even if you mess up!

In traditional hip replacement surgery, surgeons access the joint area through the upper thigh, either through the lateral , this is called posterior hip replacement.

Contrast that with a newer surgical approach: anterior hip replacement, which is gaining popularity because it spares the muscles and allows quicker recovery time. This procedure is performed with the patient lying on his or her back on a specially designed surgical table. This position lets the surgeon access the joint from the front of the hip area without surgically detaching any muscles. Instead, the hip joint is reached through naturally occurring openings between the muscles.

Photo of hana® Orthopedic Surgical Table is from mizuhosi.com/profx.cfm, used with permission from the manufacturer

As you can see from the above photo of positioning on the special table used for the anterior approach, the hip is placed in extension for the procedure.

[deanirae]

Here’s the promised rant! It goes on for thirty years! The season 6 as i can’t unsee it because i rewatched it at a weird point in life!

Step one: if you have shipping goggles on, take them off. If you have a big sentiment towards Cas's perspective in 6.20, for now, leave it at the door. It belongs in the trashcan, I hope you know that.

Welcome to season 6 and the gender-coded horror aka all the things that were done to Dean because he just wouldn’t stay in the kitchen.

Season 6 in its entirety stronger than any other season placed Dean into the role of a woman. It’s a thing since day one in spn, but s6 was all about it. Dean's horror in that season strongly resembles stories about women being abused and belittled because they are believed to be less than men; simply because they aren’t men [and know jack shit]. Their feelings don’t matter, neither does their consent, not really, which the season’s vaguely threatening “can’t or won’t?” encompasses very well [women don’t get to say “no” or “can’t” and keep it. It will get dissected and disrespected. Which is also Dean’s story].

Re-watching season 6 I felt like I was watching Rosemary's Baby but simply without the baby??? Everyone there is either lying to Dean or gaslighting him or both, all the while he's being repeatedly told everything that has been done to him, everything that hurt him, everything that took his choice away, was done to him for his own good or for the greater good vaguely including his own (or not) . And maybe he should shut the fuck up and drink a cocktail [or, according to Cas, some more whiskey].

This pattern stars in the very beginning of the season where Dean is being told that an important truth regarding Sam was hidden from him on purpose because Bobby Sam and Cas knew better what's best for Dean and they treated Dean's arguments as emotional and unreasonable. Dean fucking spent an entire year suffering from grief after losing his brother whom due to abuse and brainwashing Dean couldn't help but see as his own child (which is something that season 12 canonically confirmed). Like with Ro’s baby being declared dead at first but hey I digress, scratch that.

Unfortunately, this is just the beginning of his choice being taken away from him, since right away he gets guilt-tripped back into the hunting life and all the things that were supposed to be so good for him he got endlessly ridiculed for. Soulless Sam even drags Dean’s entire life when Dean chooses to stay with Lisa. Dean doesn’t know Sam doesn’t have a soul. He’s just supposed to take the abuse from the guy who pushed him into the domestic life in the first place and consider it normal.

Dean is also being called soft and too feminine, too weak to be treated as an equal decision making party in the hunting arrangement. He’s ranked below Gwen, only woman in the group, the lowest ranking member before Dean came.

Also very interesting that throughout the season Dean is heavily connected with taking care of children, bonding with them, and feeling for them deeply [Ben, 6.02, 6.03, 6.19], which again is something he gets criticized for every single time.

The criticism however doesn't end there and an extremely important example is where Dean begins voicing his concern regarding Sam and his behavior. Even though Dean knows Sam best, Bobby insists that Dean is being paranoid. Even after Sam literally served Dean to the vampire, he gets ordered to stop being so weak and get dressed into a more reason-based professional approach to the problem and he's supposed to put his trauma aside, basically he's being told to man up. Because he’s being emotional. And probably wrong and hysterical.

Of course it's no surprise that the game-changing moment for Dean too puts him in a woman's position within the narrative. While sexual assault isn’t a problem only women experience, statistically and, especially in the media, this is the sort of violence that women are in a larger threat of facing than men. What's more to it, what happens on screen in the episode only shows the girls being lured into a trap and forcefully changed. And all of this has extremely sexual connotations. Being unwillingly turned into a vampire and the forced feeding with a vampire's blood is a blatant metaphor of rape. In Dean's case the sexual undertone of the assault was heavily accentuated even in dialogue.

But not just there. In the episode Dean takes the vampire book and refers to its cover [the vampire watching the girl sleep] as “rapey”. He’s uncomfortable with the whole thing. The act of staring at an unaware sleeping woman is presented as a monster vs woman thing to do, as an assault. When Dean gets turned, he watches Lisa sleep before she startles awake [6.05]. Lucky, the dog-skinwalker, watches his “love”/unaware owner sleep, then crawls into her bed [6.08]. Castiel, despite of knowing the sigils were literally meant to be a restraining order, enters Dean’s room, watches him sleep. Tries to convert him [620]. The same episode also brings  up all the times Dean, completely unaware, was being watched by him. Just like the girl from the book cover was, just like Maddie was.

No surprise Cas takes the creepy cake because he resonates with the disturbing theme perhaps the most, showing through how in season 6 Dean's relationship with Cas played out. Or, to be more specific, how Castiel's relationship with Dean played out (and there is a difference).

The thing of the biggest import here, before I begin, is that power imbalance, the difference of species. The angelic mindset in the Angels versus Humans dynamics, which is rooted in the same arguments men use to establish their dominance over women and to later excuse it: according to Angels (and technically supernatural beings in general), humans are weaker, too emotional, definitely dumber, less experienced, less competent.

And what they deserve, at best, is patronizing treatment showing them where is their place, because they’re too fragile and too stupid to make decisions for themselves. Not worthy taking a meaningful position in a war, but at the same time they're extremely valuable due to their souls, which to an extent kind of reminds me of how women are often seen as valuable only because they are capable of childbirth, which is an ability unique to them in the same way having a soul is something that angels just lack, so they use humans for that.

Castiel might say he values humans as his equals, but even if he believes that, his actions don’t reflect it [5.18 for example, pick ANY episode from s6]. The thinking is so ingrained into him like patriarchal perspective is in men’s heads by default. Castiel's and Dean's relationship in season 6 is solely gender coded in this regard. Castiel simply isn't capable of seeing Dean as his equal because he’s, according to Cas, weaker, less experienced, too biased by his flawed - or castiel's actual words - “crippling” - human perspective, therefore he should be put away from the fighting for his own good. No matter the cost, no matter Dean’s judgment on the matter, no matter his choice. Safety is priority, right? Early in s6 Dean, desperate, tries to protect Lisa and Ben like that too, but he understands, he backs off. They reach balance.

But when the narrative puts Dean in Lisa’s place? The only thing he's allowed to do is to perform some basic tasks that are completely unrelated to what's happening on the Big Front and only when Cas sees it fit, and only how he sees it fit. Dean, as long as  it is for Castiel to decide, doesn't even have to know what he's doing. In fact, in the original plan it was supposed to go along the lines of: Manly Men (angels) Fight Wars To Protect Women (Dean) because they're capable and strong and cunning and rational, while Women (Dean) Stay At Home And Rake The God Damn Leaves. What they do is keep the fire going for the Victorious Soldier when He returns from War and if they don't get that, they're just dumb because their human little brains are too small to comprehend the stakes. So they don’t get a vote. They’re supposed to trust blindly. Men (angels) know better. And all of it of course is because Men (Castiel) love Them (Dean) so much and They’re willing to do everything and anything to protect those poor, brittle things (favorite pets?).

The list of anything and everything includes: lying about everything all the time directly into Dean’s face despite of the crushing emotional pain Dean was in. And I don’t even mean burning Crowley's bones-lying, but every single time Dean has voiced his worry that something is wrong with Sam. What Castiel does is to placate Dean, reassure him that he doesn't know what happens but he's so sorry and he'll try to find out! Aids and encourages Dean’s alcoholism just to make him docile, while lying to him actively, by the way [6.06]. And when that stops being an option and Dean is determined to return the soul to Sam, Castiel suddenly stops being so understanding and sweet. Like a flip of a switch. He guilt trips and indirectly threatens Dean before he follows through [6.10] and after placing Sam's soul back in its place [6.12]. And of course it has nothing to do with actual worry over Sam's wellbeing.

Cas pulled Sam out of the cage and didn't bother to check on him for over a year, even though soulless!sam prayed to him repeatedly. Not to mention that he later broke Sam's wall without blinking, so he did the exact thing he “warned” Dean about and by “warned” I mean that he made sure Dean would know the blame, if anything happens to Sam, is going to be his. The point of the whole show of concern was to keep Dean busy and technically powerless because together, alive and kicking, the Winchesters, while extremely dysfunctional and codependent, make a much bigger threat for the supernatural because it's so much harder to keep the game going when suddenly both of the brothers are asking questions and Dean is no longer being pulled down, preoccupied and controlled by T-1000. Dean is much more compliant when he has no support and when he has no moves to make, which Castiel knows.

So yes, maybe Castiel didn't pull out Sam soulless on purpose but it is no accident that he was so determined to keep him that way regardless of how much it cost Dean, whom, of course, he loves so fucking much.

And when you are an angel loving a man/mother figure so much you are also going to hurt the child just to force him to accept his position and stand down. And later tell him that he had it coming because he didn't listen and didn't do what he's told (if the babysitter is slapped, she’s clearly done something wrong). All of it in the name of freedom, of course.

While attempting to emotionally manipulate Dean into supporting his cause and agreeing that what Castiel is doing is right, Cas invokes values like caring, protecting, being a family -  which are in our society values mostly associated with women. Even the Superman metaphor presents Dean as Lois Lane (which Dean knows, so he throws that hot ball away as fast as he can). Throughout the entire 6.20 Dean is shown as and approached to as the delicate hurt wife that can't believe she's being cheated on, so everyone’s just being soft and protectional on her, poor thing, which starts in 6.19.

And fuck lemme tell you a thing about 6.19, buckle the fuck up. The episode very telling in the context of this gender-based abuse reading. It’s because both Bobby and Sam immediately understood that something is wrong about Cas while Dean couldn't. And, the way see it, it’s not the problem of Dean trusting Cas more and blindly because he's in love with him and stuff, no. At least not mostly. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that technically in the presence of both (especially soulless) Sam and Bobby Cas didn't put that much effort into playing soft concern and caring thing  as he did during the brief encounters he had with Dean alone. Sure Cas determined when he made it clear to Dean that driving the boys to their uncle is not something they have the time for, but there is a difference between the way he spoke about it in Dean's presence, to Dean directly, and the comments he made when only Bobby was there to hear them. Here, compare for yourself:

CAS: Dean, can I have a word? We need to find Eve now.

DEAN: Yeah. Go. Me and Sam just gotta make a milk run.

CAS: We need your help here.

DEAN: Hold your water. We’ll be back in a few.

CAS: Dean, Dean. Millions of lives are at stake here, not just two. Stay focused.

DEAN: Are you kidding?

CAS: there’s a greater purpose here.

DEAN: you know what, I-I’m getting a little sick and tired of the greater purposes, okay? I think what I’d like to do now is save a couple of kids. If you don’t mind. We’ll catch up.

Now, same problem, but with no Dean to hear it. I heavily advise you to dig 6.19 out and watch if not both scenes at least this one because the way Misha delivers his lines here is vital. I know just the words to describe that for you, but hear that for yourselves:

BOBBY: They won’t take long.

CAS: They might find more orphans along the way.  

BOBBY: Oh, don’t get cute.

CAS: Right. Pardon me for highlighting their crippling and dangerous empathetic response with “sarcasm”. It was a bad idea, letting them go.

Now, a bit on both [I still insist you should go watch that scene i’m begging you]:

First scene? Castiel approaches Dean gently, asks for a permission to talk in private, gives him space. He speaks to him super softly. I threw up softly. Dean doesn’t notice the demand in the demand at all, so he just goes ok, you do you, I do me i don’t get it??? So Cas goes into  the emotional territory [always works, don’t it], still soft.

Now dean gets it, but doesn’t budge. So bigger ammo goes off. And don’t even get me started on “Dean, Dean,” and how throughout the show only the villains do the variations of repeating Dean’s name to address him. The delivery slightly differed here but

It was followed by an order that was all the way patronizing. Only Castiel’s eyes reflect the irritation, his voice doesn’t - even though as scene with bobby makes clear - he’s pissed as shit. On dean specifically. He does say “they” but note that sam hasn’t spoken once on the whole issue? It’s dean who he was talking to.

He thinks Dean is crippled for being empathetic and bound to children and he isn’t rational enough to understand the stakes. Let it sink in. now think about it in the context of being a gender [species] issue. Let it sink deeper.

Something in Dean’s words, that thrown in “if you don’t mind” - that’s totally subjective but it kind of makes me think of this women-specific way of speaking from many decades before. Like 40s-50s wife thing? That implied asking for permission woven into their lexicons? Dean is, of course, bitter here, but still, you ever hear a man use that construction? I haven’t. Feel free to discard this point it’s just me trying to work with leftovers of my linguistic training and it’s subjective and i’m in no way saying that line went like that on purpose, ok? It just Bothers  me on some crawling under my skin level.

“Letting” someone do something is Bad Idea - says dude who slaughters in the name of Choice and Freedom. Oops.

And a bonus: Eve lured Dean into her trap, relying on his maternal side. Then, she tried to reach him using Mary. The whole thing being a mother to a mother talk because as a “mother” you should get my feelings.

Another bonus because you probably didn’t dig 6.19 out. That wasn’t an impersonal, rationalish vaguely grumpy sarcasm. That was soft, belittling, ridiculing contempt, the exact one you will meet again in 7.01! I wonder why!!

say bye bye to 6.19, we’re going elsewhere now. Still within the realm of season 6 fucking with Dean’s agency, gendering his problems, and somewhat within the realm of Castiel’s soon to be kingdom.

All that talk about making sacrifices for Dean’s good [because of dean/for dean, mind you] and preserving free will? Oh man, that was to not even convince God [who was blogging about cats at the time], but to make himself feel good and justified in what he’s doing.

And if he really meant what he said by “i’m doing this for you, i’m doing this because of you”, that’s because Dean is his prized possession. Spoils of war from apocalypse no. 1 [5.18 anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Entitlement?]. His trophy wife.

And no one can lay a hand on Dean and hurt him [michael, raphael, balthazar, atropos, crowley, demons] or even insult him [rachel]. Except of him, of course [ignoring him for a year, not even to say sam isn’t dead, grabbing and slicing Dean’s arm without asking and warning, guilt tripping him as hard as it gets re: Sam, agreeing to put him in harm’s way during crowley-related errands, keeping the lisa blackmail going due to convenience, re-making Dean’s reality and life without his consent BUT when that didn’t pan out, making him keep the knowledge just because he wanted to? Um, yikes? And of course hurting sam to get specifically to dean?]

Because

CAS: I’ve earned that, Dean. [6.21]

*mic drop*