1k, Belle and Adam One-Shot, ff.net
A one-shot of the scene (and conversation) that must have occurred between the kiss and the reunion with the servants. Set after the 2017 film, but it really applies to the original also.
Follower Appreciation Prompt: Pairing 2--Rose/Cullen, Prompt 8--Non-sexual acts of intimacy, how about "helping the other get dressed" Thank you ❤️
(This is also for @w0rdinista , who asked for Rose/Cullen #4 Hurt/Comfort)
By the time they return to Skyhold, the ache in her arm—not-arm—has faded, except when she moves out of instinct to reach for a glass or to turn a page or grip a bannister and the shuddering memory of loss sends shrieking pain through flesh she no longer has.
She spends a lot of time in her room.
She spends a lot of time in her nightgown.
Her husband—and she should be glowing right now, she should be happy, she should have flowers in her hair every day—her husband presses kisses to her temple, to her lips, to the scar on the right side of her face that never bothered her the way her arm—not-arm—bothers her. If he moves toward her shoulder, she pushes him away and cannot meet his eyes.
He lets himself be pushed. She doesn’t know what his eyes would say if she dared meet them, but she can guess. She doesn’t want to guess. Doesn’t want to think about it at all.
She hates the kind-faced, sad-eyed girls Josephine sends to dress her. She hates the oversized tunics and sloppy robes she can shrug into by herself even more. She can’t bear to look inside the closets and wardrobes whose contents once brought her so much joy. On the worst days, she imagines setting fire to the whole lot. It would be easy.
She can still summon fire, after all. And lightning, the dearest of all her talents.
It’s just harder to control.
Harder to focus.
She simmers close to boiling all the time. The smell of ozone almost drowns out the smell of ineffective washing.
I really like your ObiJango stories, especially when Obi-Wan being parental towards Boba (or the clones) is Jango's Ultimate Weakness. Could you mix that up with Obi's history with Mandalore? Like, Jango discovers Obi telling traditional Mando tales to his progeny, or Boba reveals that his dad told him all about The Jedi That Protected the Duchess, or something? Or just any sweet moment with this pair.
Stopping at the bedroom door, Jango stared at it with a surprised
look as he continued to listen to the familiar voices on the other
“What happened next Obi-Wan?” Boba whined softly, eager and
excited but slightly drowsy clearly from the slurring Jango could
hear in his sons voice.
There was a soft chuckle. “I’m not sure I should tell you, you’re
suppose to be sleeping young one.” He teased gently only to get
another whine. “Oh very well, I best tell you or you’ll be unable
to sleep out of sheer frustration.”
Raising a hand and resting it against the door, Jango grinned faintly
at the utterly fondness in the Jedi’s voice.
“Now lets see where was I…” Obi-Wan mock mused.
“Hercules went up against Cerberus!” Boba squeaked a bit,
wiggling and stars, he sounded his age at that moment, excited at a
tale spun by his elders though Jango was pretty sure that Obi-Wan was
telling Boba about Hercules and his twelve labors, an old legend from
Mandalore’s more primitive days.
yes, Hercules, undaunted at the prospect, entered the Underworld and
searched for Cerberus who he found at the gates of Acheron. Before
the beast could as much as bark at him with one head, the man threw
his arms around all three heads and wrestled with the giant hound for
hours until he pressed it too the ground and gained its submission
and off to Eurystheus the hero took him.” Obi-Wan’s
voice had gone low and steady, luring in anyone willing to listen.
A story tellers voice.
“What happened with the king then?”
Boba asked gleefully.
“Well there are a few different
accounts here but we’ll go with the one where Hercules brought the
three headed hound to the king to finish his labors only to for the
king to jump in the bronze jar, screaming that Hercules was a menace
and that he still had one task left despite it all. Sick and tired of
the man after the twelve years, Hercules let Cerberus go home and
pulled Eurystheus and the jar out of the ground and swung him around,
threatening to throw him and the jar into the surrounding rivers.
Frightened Eurystheus finally released Hercules from his service,
screaming for all to hear that Hercules was the greatest hero that
lived and to please spare his life. Finally free of his punishment,
Hercules left Tiryns and went home.”
Boba gave a little cheer at the happy
Well relative happy ending considering
the reason why Hercules was in service to the king but you couldn’t
have everything in life.
Jango opened the door, smiling at the
sight of Obi-Wan and Boba curled up together in the narrow bed of the
hotel, his son curled up against Obi-Wan’s chest with a blanket
wrapped around him and one of the Jedi’s arms around his little
body. The other hand was gently teasing its fingers through Boba’s
dark curls though when the door slid open to reveal Jango, they both
stopped what they were doing to peer at him.
“Dad!” Jango laughed when his boy
threw the blanket off and scuttle to him in his sleep wear, lifting
him up on his hip. “You’re back!”
“Yes and you’re not sleeping.”
Jango grinned wryly, raising his brows. “Did you convince Obi-Wan
to let you stay up hmm?” He dug his fingers playfully into his boys
Giggling helplessly, Boba threw his
arms around Jango’s neck, hugging him.
Obi-Wan sat up on the bed with the
blanket sliding off his frame where Boba had abandoned it, smiling
drolly at the bounty hunter. “He wanted a good night story. I must
admit I may have picked the wrong one since Hercules labors are a
rather long Mando’a legend.” He shrugged, his tunic falling off
his left shoulder and exposing a pale freckled shoulder to Jango.
“…Are you wearing my tunic?”
Jango questioned warmly, clearly taking the other off guard and
Obi-Wan blinked, lifting his hands and pulling the sleeves back from
where they had slid over his hands.
“Yes well I didn’t bring any
sleepwear so I had to borrow something to sleep in.” Obi-Wan
confessed with a bit of embarrassment. “I can of course put it ba-”
The other adult quickly interrupted as Boba looked between the two
with a grin on his face.
“No, no it looks good on you.”
Jango moved over to the bed. “Please keep it on.” He murmured
while setting Boba down. “But now you need to go to bed. Its far
past your bedtime young man.” He smirked at his son.
Laying down and getting tucked in by
his dad as Obi-Wan got up, Boba yawned and snuggled up. “Kay dad…
I’m glad you’re home.” He giggled quietly as he got a forehead
kiss from his dad.
Following the Jedi out of the room,
Jango turned the light off. “Glad to be home, love you son.”
“Love you dad.” Followed him softly
out before the door closed behind him.
That left Obi-Wan and Jango in the
outer room, the Jedi shuffling slightly dressed in leggings and
Jango’s slightly oversized tunic. “I’m sorry, I should have had
him in be-”
Cupping the others chin in his hand,
Jango pressed a slow and chaste kiss to his lips. “Technically
speaking.” He murmured when he pulled back. “You did ner riduur.”
Jango smiled as he was treated to the blush deepening before Obi-Wan
his his face against his armor plated shoulder.
Title: Thoughtful Impracticality - Kidge Week Day 7 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keidge Summary: They say the best gifts come from the heart, right? Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy
this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.
AN: Just call me Chester, because I’m a filthy cheetah. Anyway, same forewarning for the other two fics; read through once for problems so be aware.
History teacher Bellamy Blake has a globe on his desk and books galore. There's a map of the Pacific on one wall, with the flag of the Philippines hanging on the other. He wears glasses, a button-up with the sleeves rolled, and a smile everyday. His classroom is a little cramped with 20 desks, but it's worth it for being five steps away from the sculpting studio. It has definitely nothing to do with the pretty blonde art teacher, who has the colors pink, blue, and purple dyed into her hair.
he’s either the absolute best or the worst depending on who you ask; his rep of being engaging and mostly laid back precedes him which is why a lot of people come in thinking it’s gonna be an easy a and then they’re shocked when he assigns an essay on the effects of neocolonialism on the first day. still, he’s mostly loved by everyone because he may be a bit of hardass when it comes to work, but he knows what he’s doing; he has a way of having seemingly normal conversations in class and then when you leave you realise you know almost everything about the war of 1812
and then there’s his thing with the new art teacher.
(they firmly deny that it’s not a thing but it’s to no avail; highschoolers believe what they want to believe)
it starts when clarke- ahem, ms griffin-wink-you-can-call-me-clarke-wink- shows up on the first day. it’s a small town and no one has ever seen or heard of this woman, the one with as much colours splashed in her hair as there are on her skin. she’s from the northeast, her degree from harvard and somehow she ends up here in virginia, teaching in art in sleepy old ark. it’s a mystery that nancy drew probably couldn’t solve.
their feud starts of small, a terse whispered conversation in the hallway watched by almost two dozen eager eyes. clarke likes to play music while her students work, claiming that it helps nurture creativity, and mr blake does not appreciate the noise. she agrees to turn it down a bit and he goes back to his class.
but ark’s walls are thin and he can still hear the muffled sounds of pink floyd while he’s trying to teach the civil war.
and that’s how it starts.
they’re always unerringly polite, throwing compliments like knives at each other in the hallways, but sometimes when there’s the odd student lurking around after school they hear the real conversations about how mr blake is a stick in the mud with a hard on for the civil rights movement and how clarke wouldn’t know professionalism if it punched her in the face.
it’s the most interesting part of the school year and when it comes to sort out timetables for the new term, almost half the school wants in on art and history classes.
(admin offers bellamy blake a bigger classroom in the new wing on the other side of the school. it can hold up to forty students, has one of those smart board things, and the air con doesn’t take a good a fifteen minutes to kick in.)
(he declines and when asked why, he just shrugs. ‘i like smaller classes,’ he says, and then goes back grading essays.)
that might be a reason, but more than a handful of people notice the quirky comic style drawings that he’s pinned to the bulletin board at the front, and clarke is far less subtle, telling one of her seniors, ‘oh, bellamy bought it for me,’ when they asked where she got her ‘if ain’t baroque, don’t fix it’ mug.
and then if that wasn’t enough, it turns out that mr blake sometimes gives clarke a lift home because she only lives a block away from him with her cat, frida. it’s practically too much for a bunch of teenagers to handle, and almost all the freshmen believe that they’re going to get married.
‘oh please, actual human emotions are far too complex for me to achieve,’ she says when questioned about it in class one day. unlike mr blake who just glares them into silence anytime someone dares broach the topic, clarke chatters away freely, uncaring of who’s listening.
‘don’t stop at that,’ bellamy says, leaning against the doorway. his sleeves are rolled up as usual and his hair doesn’t look like it’s been combed in three days. he flashes them all a hint of a smirk, once again reminding them why clarke and mr griffin are the most frustrating couple in school for a number of reasons. ‘a lot of things are too complex for you. like remembering to pack lunch.’
he throws a brown bag at her which she catches singlehandedly. ‘turkey on rye. something that has more sustenance than peanut butter ritz crackers.’
‘hey, it has all major food groups covered: carbs, fats, and protein,’ she says
bellamy just twists his face and pushes off the wall, heading back to his class, and clarke calls after him, ‘thanks for lunch hunny!’ causing the tips of his ears to turn red.
honestly, they’re both terrible at keeping this…. whatever a secret, and far too good at it since there’s no concrete evidence.
(of course, jasper jordan insists that he caught them making out in a janitor’s closet one time, but first of all, jasper has a reputation of being sneaking out of class to get high most times, and secondly, why would they make out in a janitor’s closet when mr blake has a car?)
so that’s how mr blake and clarke became one of ark’s biggest won’t they/ will they couples while continuing to flaunt their relationship in everyone’s face. is that one of bellamy’s dress shirts she’s wearing with leggings, or is it just an oversized tunic? is that lipstick smudged on mr blake’s collar, or is it a drop of ketchup from his lunch? did clarke lean in to mutter something in his ear about exams so their students wouldn’t have a chance of hearing or reading her lips, or did she brush a kiss to his cheek?
no one knows for sure, and no one probably will ever know, because clarke and mr blake don’t kiss and tell.
Characters: Thorin, Company, Reader. Setting: Erebor after BOTFA (Everyone lives, fix-it). Synopsis:
Firmly ensconced in Erebor and fed up with the tedium of their daily
duties, Thorin’s company tries to revive old times by going on a camping
trip. Meanwhile, Thorin is reconsidering his choice of queen and trying
to avoid the company’s well-intentioned meddling into his love life,
with mixed success. Warnings: NSFW. Angsty. Hurt/Comfort with a lot of hurt. Notes:This is the first sequel to THE LONG DARK. It will make a lot more sense if you read that story first. My thanks go out to my darlings @hardlyfatal , @fromthedeskoftheraven and @snugsbunnyfluff
for listening to my interminable whining about this story, making
excellent suggestions and slogging through my first (and n-th) drafts
without a single complaint. Words: 2737
it’s been too many nights of being with
to now be suddenly without
Where was he?
You’d thought you’d seen a dark-cloaked shadow a bit farther up the
path, but it must have been a mirage. You were now in the spot you’d aimed at,
and Thorin was nowhere to be seen. The mouth of the cave had long vanished
behind the curtain of pelting rain. You felt like you were going to drown,
which was ridiculous.
Luckily there was a path of sorts, or you would have never known where
to go. You soldiered on, sloshing through the ankle-deep mud more out of
stubbornness than any likelihood that you would actually find Thorin. You could
barely see your hand in front of your face after all. A stone toppled away
beneath your foot and you slipped, dislodging more stones in the process. Your
butt hit the ground, starting a small mudslide. You slid down the small
incline, gaining speed as more rocks joined the shifting earth beneath you.
172: “ The food looks great but.. There’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now. ” Emperor Hux to NB-Mitaka? (Maybe Kylo too if you want)
[This is set 2 months after the end of For The Empire. TW for NB preg.]
The Emperor frequently travelled off world, and where he went the Lord Protector followed.
Dopheld didn’t have that option. He was Hux’ secretary yes, but he was also the main liaison between the Imperial mind and the government in the Emperor’s absence. He had missed the two of them terribly, but there wasn’t really any alternative to staying behind.
Still, they’d be home soon. He just had to get through this evening’s welcoming banquet and then they could retire to bed at last.
“I don’t think we should leave the food alone in here,” one waiter muttered to his colleague, “if there’s no one to guard it then ‘Taka might eat it all.”
The other man snorted but wisely kept his mouth shut on the topic of Dopheld’s ‘weight gain’.
Frankly he was baffled that at this stage most of the staff were still under the delusion that he was just getting fat. It was ridiculous. He looked like Starkiller Base.
At least the security teams weren’t that stupid. But then they were all under the control of Kylo’s Knights. They had a vested interest in protecting their Master’s children. One of them had even offered him a chair.
He wished he’d accepted it- his feet and back were killing him. It would have been against protocol though. They weren’t married yet so he was still just a secretary. He had to keep standing.
Request: Can I please request a part 2 for the peasant Barry thing, like maybe he and the reader become friends and say the reader always sneaks out to see Barry but one day she sneaks Barry into the castle or something, idk if that makes sense but thanks😘 your an amazing writer btw
Joe isn’t sure if Barry’s in love or just plain dumb. This is the fourth time his foster son has gone into town, claiming to be getting food. He never comes back with food though, just a sad look. He was expecting someone to show up, Joe could tell. Call it a fatherly instinct, if you will.
Rocking back and forth on his muddy brown boots, Barry tilts his head to the side, eyes surveying the market place. The same people, doing the same things. No princess. He sighs, arms dropping to his sides, letting the oversized white tunic fall off one shoulder.
And then something grabs him. Like, literally, grabs the back of his tunic and yanks him. When he goes to scream, a familiar hand clamps on his mouth. “-rincess?!” he beams, voice muffled. “I’vebeenwaitingforyouallweek!” he says in one breath, smiling underneath your palm.
“Pardon?” you crinkle your eyebrows, pulling your hand away. Blushing, Barry shrugs it off, scoffing. “Can you help me? I discovered an…well, I do not know what it is.” you pause for a moment, peering up at the clouds, “I need you to tell me what it is. Come, I will show you at the castle!” you exclaim, yanking on the peasant’s arm and beginning to walk.
Except, Barry doesn’t go to move; you stumble backwards, confused. “Erm, I would - it would be my honor, Your Highness. But, I cannot enter the castle.” he mumbles, giggling at you when you cock your head. Is he banned? “I am a peasant. I will never get past the gates.” he says solemnly, light brown hair bouncing when he shakes his head.
Pursing your lips together, you collect your lavender dress in your hands, showing your matching flats. He furrows his eyebrows but allows you to pull him into the forest. “I have knowledge of a secret passage.” you giggle, hopping over a big gray rock.
Barry eyes widen, arms flying out in case you fall. Your flats continue to skip forward, until you get to a small stream. Leaning down, you start to slip off your shoes. “Princess, I- oh…” Suddenly your flats are pressed to his chest. “Princess!” His eyes widen, watching your feet splash in the rampant water. “Oh, please do not fall apart…” he mumbles to his boots as he follows you through the stream.
When your feet connects with the ground, you turn, noticing Barry take giant steps, almost out of the water. You beam, retrieving your flats from him. “We are almost there! Come along!” You wave your hand, jumping over a stray log, castle only a few feet away.
He scowls, shaking his leg of the water. His mossy green eyes grow an inch, noticing how far you are. “Princess!” he hollers, feet swishing in his boots as he walks. Oh, his poor shoes…his only pair… “You know, Princess, you are quite adventurous.” he smirks at his brown boots, hands on his hips. “Do you do this often-”
When he looks up, your gone. Quickly, he peers from side to side. Great, he lost you. “I like to go on quests sometimes.” you shrug, leaning on the windowsill.
“How did you-” he gawks, pointing up.
“The rope.” you roll your eyes, gesturing to the long yellow rope on the side of the wall.
Right… Barry gulps, hands grabbing the wire rope. “I didn’t suppose you have a lift?” he calls up, eyes filled with hope; you shake your head, blinking at him. “Very well…” he mumbles, sighing as he places his hands higher. With a heavy grunt, he attempts to pull himself up, managing to get about a foot off the ground. You huff, watching him fall. This is gonna take a while…
Unlike many, Summer isn’t an easy season for me. It’s icky, sweaty and overall just uncomfortable. So every year, I find myself looking for relaxed and breezy fashion options that not only make the heat a little more bearable but also keep things fashion forward. That is why I’m so excited for Pakistani summer trends this season because they manage to do just that and more!
Trends come and go but every Summer there is one color and piece that remains constant; the little white kurta.
We’ve been talking about the revival of the gharara for the past couple of years now and the contemporary take on this classic piece is every bit casual. Brands like Generation and Rano’s Heirlooms are realizing that limiting ghararas to the formal category is unfair to a piece that could be perfect for the summer given it’s relaxed and comfy nature. Pairing it with a white kurta is a dream summer outfit and if I could wear this ensemble everyday, I would!
Tulip Shalwar, Bootcut Trousers, Culottes
To say that tulip shalwars are in right now is an understatement. Everryyyone is wearing them. However, in the sea of tulips, bootcut trousers and culottes are also managing to hold their ground. Brands are giving them their own ethnic touch to keep them culturally relevant.
Wraps and Boxy Tunics
An easy flow of air is what anyone wants in the scorching heat so it’s not surprising that oversized boxy tunics would make their way into the popular trends this season!
There is no denying that khusas will always be in. But this season, we see Peshawari sandals that are traditionally worn by men make their way into contemporary women’s fashion and why not.. they’re comfortable, chic and definitely on my must have Summer list!
I love Monsta X, but I still laugh whenever I think about the “All In” outfits. I get that Shownu and Wonho are sexy, but those shirts with the giant back slits got more and more ridiculous over time. What Wonho was wearing in the dance video couldn’t actually be called a “shirt.” And the funniest part (to me) is that my bias/visual Hyungwon usually wore an oversized tunic or a trenchcoat for all of promotions, even for the time when most of the other members had those shirts with back slits.
Over the last several months Hawke had come to terms with the fact that Fenris was just not the type to stick around the day after. No amount of puppy eyes and pouty lips or promises of hotcakes in the morning could convince him to stay, and whenever he tried to discuss it with him, the subject only served to piss the warrior off further. So as Hawke yawned a great big first-breath-of-the-morning yawn and stretched, extending his arms and legs out so that his stiff joints cracked and he felt the weight of another body on the bed, he assumed the dog had invited himself for a snuggle and it was his faithful mabari fast asleep next to him. A lazy grin stretched over his face and he smacked his lips as he reached back to give the dog’s haunch a pat.
“You’ll always keep me warm, won'tcha boy?” He asked, expecting to feel thick muscles and short bristly fur against his palm. Instead, his hand connected with the warm, smooth skin of a familiar arse, resulting in a fleshy smack. There was an annoyed grunt in response and Hawke startled fully awake, nearly flinging himself onto his side in his eagerness to roll over as he tried to sit upright in the tangle of sheets.
For the umpteenth time that night, Aylen rolled in the bed, squeezing her eyes shut. It was no use, she couldn’t sleep. She’d been trying for hours since getting in bed with Kaaras, after an evening of close intimacy and sweet words whispered, kisses and more. He was lying naked under the pelts next to her, but she had her back to him now.
She finally opened her eyes and gave a soft sigh. The only light in the room was that of the embers that remained in the fireplace, and the moonlight that seeped through the windows. Should she try to sleep again…? No, she knew it was useless. The thoughts and concerns in her mind wouldn’t let her, whispering in the back of her head. It was worse when she closed her eyes, in the quiet of night. So instead she sat up and got off the bed; gently, as to not wake Kaaras up. She didn’t want to worry him. She went around the bed and grabbed Kaaras’ shirt to cover her nudity, even though it looked more like a ridiculously oversized tunic on her. She liked that though: it made it obvious it was his, and it smelled of him. Usually that helped easing her… Not tonight, not quite.
Hugging the shirt around herself, she walked across the room and quietly opened one of the windows, leaving it ajar behind her as she went out to the balcony and leant against the stone balustrade, looking ahead but not really looking at anything in particular. She was worried, lost in the thoughts that buzzed in her mind and gnawed at her.
They’d been trying for a while now. Nothing yet. She’d not dared to say anything about it, but truth was… She was concerned about it. She’d stopped taking witherstalk ever since they’d agreed to try having a child of their own. But… She didn’t know. It didn’t look like it was working. Was it because she was an elf? The Dalish had a hard time having offspring as it was, and it wasn’t uncommon for a lot of Dalish couples to find out, after a lot of trying, that they couldn’t have children at all. Her parents were a lucky case: how many of her people could say they had more than one child? Very few, in fact.
Perhaps I can’t, that little voice told her, and she worried at her lip at the thought. She and Kaaras had spoken about it, and both really wanted children. They wanted to have a family of their own, and both had been so excited when they’d agreed to try. But what if she truly couldn’t? How would Kaaras react to that?
Perhaps I’m not enough. She felt tears stinging her eyes, threatening to fall, just from thinking about it, and hugged herself a bit tighter.
There were other things that worried her too. Kaaras. Aylen knew he didn’t like talking about it, but she wasn’t blind: the mark wasn’t getting any better. She knew it flared up sometimes, more often than he let on, even though the Breach had been sealed a long time ago and Corypheus was no more. It made her fear for him, for his health, his life. And she felt helpless, because she had no idea what to do about it. She wasn’t an expert on magic or the Fade. Solas had left without a trace after Corypheus was defeated, so he couldn’t help with that. She didn’t know how to help him. Even though Kaaras didn’t mention it and hadn’t requested her help with it, Aylen had asked the healers, see if there was something that could be done. No one knew.
What if it gets worse? What happens if it does him serious harm? And if it spreads? I don’t know how to help him. Even with that I’m not enough. I don’t want to lose him to the mark. I can’t lose him. I love him. I need him. But I’m not enough to make it better
No, she couldn’t sleep with those thoughts in her mind. She could only stare ahead and be more anxious, which frustrated her. She didn’t know what to do about these things, and they were slowly gnawing at her, consuming her mind with worry and making her chest feel tight and painful.
In a crowded back lot in Toronto, the King of France is waiting for his close-up.
“I spend 10 months of the year here now,” said London native Toby Regbo, the 23-year-old lead actor who plays King Francis II in the CBS Corp. historical romantic drama “Reign,” currently shooting its third season in Canada’s biggest city.
Regbo, in an embroidered, crushed-velvet tunic and oversized ring on his finger, is standing outside his trailer while crew members scurry to put the finishing touches on a war room on a sound stage at Cinespace Film Studios.(x)
1: Who spends almost all their money on the other?
Evie smiled brightly as she gazed down
at the little golem statuette in her hands. It was perfect. Cullen
had told her all the about the statue in Honneleth from his childhood
and when she saw this in the shop window she couldn’t resist.
“You spent all your coin on that?”
“It’s adorable.” Evie gushed,
running her thumb lovingly over the polished stone. “And it’s for
Cullen…” She added with a blush as she tucked the little
statuette in her empty coin purse. She was sure he was going to love
2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap?
Cullen kept an arm wrapped securely
around Evie’s waist as he worked. Her even breaths rustled the fur of
his mantle with her every exhale, tickling his neck and making him
shiver every few seconds.
She had dragged her weary body into his
office only ten minutes prior, wanting to crawl into bed with him.
However he still had a great deal of work to do so instead of
collapsing into bed, she had settled in his lap and fell asleep in
“Ser, I have the-” The messenger
halted his words when he took in the sight of the Inquisitor curled
up in the Commander’s lap.
“Just put them there.” Cullen
whispered, gesturing to the already oversized stack of missives on
Once the messenger had given Cullen the
reports and left, Cullen chanced a quick glance down at Evie. He
would never tire of having her curled up in his lap while he worked.
Her presence made everything easier for him.
Just finished my workout! And it stopped raining so I’m getting ready to go run some errands on foot! Wanted to share this side-by-side - I threw on this hoodie and remembered how tight it used to be. Looked up an old photo of me wearing it and I am so excited, but also want to share some thoughts I’ve been having all week:
Losing weight is weird. I’ve been on so many diets in my life, I’ve struggled with eating disorders and body dysmorphia. The past few weeks I’ve really been noticing my weight loss and it’s so thrilling. I’m so proud of myself and so happy that I’m losing weight in a healthy way that makes me feel strong and smart. I really feel like I am taking care of my body.
That said, it’s hard not to obsess over my progress and the number on the scale. It’s just what I’m accustomed to. I really want to get back in the habit of only weighing myself once per week. I want to focus on non-scale victories. Sharing this photo is me doing just that.
Weight loss is hard and it can take a mental toll on you. Even though I know I should feel confident and beautiful in my body, I still feel insecure. So few of my clothes fit me right. I keep wearing clothes that are too big for me that I wore last year - last year I was trying to hide my body under them and this year, I still feel afraid to come out. Clothes that do fit me make me feel self conscious because all of the sudden I feel like my body is worthwhile again and it’s weird to have clothes that are form fitting and flattering (seriously most of my wardrobe is oversized sweaters and tunics and leggings!).
It’s so much to process and take in!
The bottom line is though that I’ve been through so much with my body and my body image and I am SO proud of myself for being healthy and positive this go around. Remember: it’s a journey. Weight loss is a journey, self love is a journey, and they don’t always go hand in hand. One doesn’t come because of the other.
That’s all I’ve got. Thanks for reading if you did! Ok now to walk to Whole Foods to stock up on La Croix and see if they have the new Halo Top flavors!!