horse-eyes

the signs as suburban haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere. 

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

GEMINI: the corpse of a cigarette that hasn’t touched a mouth in months, a dilapidated playground where lost souls come out to play, threadbare curtains ripped like the wings of a dissected bird, strange red-brown stains across the hotel bedsheets, a gate grown weary with new-forming foliage & age, whining erroneously whenever maneuvered. 

CANCER: an empty casket, coffee rim imprints across hardwood tables, an old, tattered shoe lying haphazardly on the side of the road, a junkyard littered with ancient cars still soggy with stories, a pick-up with a broken windshield, a cadillac with a massacred paint job, someone’s motorcycle with blood staining the front tire, an askew portrait with eyes that follow you around the room.

LEO: a carnival horse with one eye scratched out, a daycare centre that shut down years ago, plagued with the colorful ghosts of children’s drawings still tacked to the crumbling walls, a spiral staircase that seems to shift direction when nobody’s paying attention, crunched up beer cans rolling across an empty rooftop & lichen kissing the concrete. 

VIRGO: the supermarket, flickering & eerie at night like the shadows unearthed beneath troubled eyes, owls stirring in between the murmuring trees, a single upturned grave in a cemetery that isn’t supposed to be notorious for hauntings, an old fountain still glistening with pennies that are no longer considered currency, a collapsed bottle of wine running the tiles red.

LIBRA: handprints imprinted onto fogged-up windows, red rooms crowded with developing photographs of people whose faces you recognize but cannot quite place, broken doll heads, a necklace that erupted into a sea of pearls, a deflated blow up kiddie pool collecting parched grass and critters, a busted arcade game & the laughter of people long gone still trapped inside the walls.

SCORPIO: books with grimacing yellow pages, someone attempting to sell you a cursed object on etsy, a leaky shower-head, a clock that’s stuck in time, a torn, unravelled couch sitting deserted in someone’s front lawn, candy stores that proclaim sales on expired sweets & ruddy patches of farmland. 

SAGITTARIUS: basements stacked with unwanted toys, a box of thin-mints, footsteps reverberating around the house when it’s 2 AM and you’re home alone, a burned down lemonade stand, that weird alien light in the third window of your neighbor’s house that never seems to get turned off, a certain rattling coming from the kitchen.

CAPRICORN: rain pummeling against damp ceilings, clothes ripped off the washing line, an empty aquarium, obscure little thrift stores that sell leather jackets from the eighties, gas station lights flirting with you from the distance, the alley where they say the vagabonds roam their night countries, sniffing up and dressing down and slitting the throats of angels.

AQUARIUS: those tiny coffee shops that fill you with nostalgia for places you’ll never visit, ‘JESUS LOVES YOU’ spray-painted across the sides of ramshackle buildings, an antique almirah scratched to high hell, a monster in the closet, the tunnel beneath the bridge that half the town believes is a gateway to hell, smoking up in trip mall parking lots. 

PISCES: halloween decor presented in shop windows a couple months early, visiting that lake where you heard that one kid drowned, the garage door slamming without cause or notice, storing fireflies in jars, drugstore makeup, birthday cake flavored oreos, a wheeled desk chair that seems to turn on its own when nobody’s in the office, a candle snuffed out on a windless evening.

The fae

Living in Ireland I heard many stories about the fae.About they’re kind nature, the peaceful woodland spirits, playful tricksters, or even malicious beings.

Here I will give some ways to appease them, and ward them. I will also tell about dangerous fae and how to ward them.

AVOIDING FAIRIES

In Ireland children were told to keep away from fairy mounds, fairy circles, certain places in the woods, certain trees, and some strange places. Fairy mounds can be identified as strange lone hills, often found in odd place. Fairy circles are mushroom circles. They are a naturally occurring pattern, however they are believed to be portals the their realm. And stepping in one may be dangerous. Steer clear of certain trees. It is believed that fae live in them, and if disturbed they would not be happy. Notable trees to stay away from include hazel, thorn, alder, and oak. An example of a strange place would be strange rock formations in a field, and that if disturbed or moved would upset the fae who made them.


Farmers didn’t go to their mill or barns at night. It was believed that the fae used the cover of darkness to grind their grain. Disturbing them while they worked could result in you having a failed crop or other curses.

Certain bodies of water were said to be the homes of kelpies, Corrigans, and other water fae. If you came to these waters alone, you could be pulled in, or lured to your deaths (corrigans are said to beautiful creatures that lure you to your death, were they drown you.) They would drown their victims, forcing their spirits to live in the fae realm forever.


WARDING FAE

Certain flowers such as primroses, were layed on the windowsills and hung over doors. This ensured that he house was kept safe from the fae.

Garlands were made from marsh marigolds. These were placed over the barn doors. This protected the horses from being ridden to death by the fae.

However, the most notable flower to protect yourself against the fae is St. John’s Wort. Wearing this flower provided the wearer protection from fairy magic and tricks. Sometimes my grandmother would scatter petals around the outside of the house, to try to provide protection.

Some said holly berries would repel them. (Unknown why. Unlike the others I was never told this. Maybe someone could clarify.)

A four-leafed clover would allow you to see the fae, even through their glamours, or invisibility. However, this would only work once. An old tradition was to sew them into clothing, or even a little bag (this is to be worn round the neck, though some say it just has to be held) this allowed the user to see them for every clover they had sewn.

Though these are quite nice forms of protection, iron is always the best form of protection. Many believe that iron burns the fairy. Some legends say that the crafted their weapons out of silver and gold because they couldn’t use the iron. If you kept an iron nail in your pocket the fae would be unable to take you to their realm. Often iron knives, sheers, and other sharp object were hung over or near the crib of a baby. This was to prevent the baby from being stolen and swapped with a changling child. ( I don’t recommend doing this as it could be dangerous to the baby.) Sometimes horseshoes, nails, or arrowheads would be placed over doors to stop fae from entering the house or room. An iron ring was worn to protect people, it was told that the fae could not go near the person who wears it.


APPEASING FAE

To be protected from them, and to even form a relationship with the fae; one must respect them, trust them, and leave offerings for them.

Leaving bread and milk out for them was said to protect the household that did it. It was also believed that one may gain their favour by doing this. This is also a notable way of appeasing the cat síth. Not only do they like bread and milk, they also like butter, cream, sugar, ale, honey, whiskey, and I find that they like dark chocolate.

If you’re crossing a body of water, or passing by a well you may drop a piece of silver in, or a coin in for the fae that lives in it.


Ever here the saying that if you spill salt you should throw some over your right shoulder? Well that applies to the fae. If salt is spilled one may throw some over their right shoulder so that the fae can have their share.


Many of the nicer variety were insulted when they saw human mortals lacking in hospitality to one another and treating each other badly. It’s was said that they would punish people like this very harshly. However, if you were kind and honest to people they were said to treat you nicely, or leave you be.

DANGEROUS FAE

corrigans- A form of water sprite. They appear as beautiful beings who sing melodies like sirens. They mostly appear at night on a full moon. In sunlight they’re glamour goes away and their true ugly form is revealed. stay clear of bodies of water and the woods
Dullahan- The headless horseman. He is seen often in the country riding a dead horse with eyes like fire. He often has a whip made out of a spine. He roams the countryside looking for the dead. If you see him he is said to slash your eyes with his whip. Gold is said to ward them for a while.
Amadan Dubh- VERY DANGEROUS. The trickster fae. He’s a madman. Often seen dancing on lone hills to ghostly music. Cannot be reasoned with. He can place powerful, harmful curses on people. I do not know of any ways to ward him. (Maybe someone can clarify?)
Alp-luarcha- If you think it has crawled in your throats after falling asleep at a stream or other body of water, eat salted food. This will make it thirsty, and make it leave.
Bean sídhe or banshee- The only thing I know of is an iron ring, though when a person is dying nothing can keep her away as she wails.
Cat síth- it loiters around graveyards and open graves to steal the souls of those who have recently died. To try to distract it one may try dancing, singing, or telling riddles. This gives time for the souls of the deceased to pass on so that it cannot get them. I was also told that on Halloween (Samhain) a saucer of milk should be left out, this will provide good luck and protection, while those that didn’t would be cursed. If you are ever filled with a sense of dread and see a black cat with a tuff of white fur walk away slowly and then place a saucer of milk outside, then pray that this will be enough to appease it.
Boggart- It’s a malicious form of fae that takes over houses. Somewhat like a poltergeist. They cannot be reasoned with, and any attempts to appease them will annoy them. They don’t like holy water, crosses, iron, or agrimony. However, sometimes an exorcism is necessary. A family friend had to get this once.
Changling- To stop a child from being swapped keep a close eye on them, put them in a warm well lit room, stitching red thread in baby clothes and blankets was said to prevent them from being swapped, as well as hanging iron sheers or knives over the crib, or having them close by.
I hope this helps. If you have any questions or any clarifications feel free to message me.

Horse Terms for Non-Horsey People
  • Green: A horse that doesn't know shit. A kid horse. A lil punk horse.
  • Bridle: The head thing for riding.
  • Halter: The head thing for leading.
  • Lead rope: Horse leash.
  • Pony: A shorter, stockier equine. NOT a baby horse. Sometimes also used as a term of endearment towards larger horses.
  • Dressage: Fancy-ass horse dance.
  • Lunging: Making the horse go in circles around you on a long line, sometimes with another person on its back. Good way to teach Green horses the basics and a good way to start new riders.
  • Stirrup: Where your foot goes when you get on.
  • Girth: Horse belt.
  • Boots and Polo Wraps: Thingies that go on the horse's legs to protect them. NOT casts.
  • Fly Mask: NOT A BLINDFOLD
  • Schoolie: A horse that will teach you what's what and also possibly kill you. Usually ornery pieces of shit but also indispensable and amazing.
  • Paint: cow horse.
  • Warmblood: Large, fancy, lovable-weirdo-type horse.
  • Mare: Female horse. Probably thinking about the easiest way to make you cower in fear right now.
  • Gelding: Castrated male horse. Probably fearfully eyeing the mare.
  • Stallion: Un-castrated male horse. Probably eyeing the mare with a mixture of fear and lust.
  • Nicker: A grunting noise a horse makes when it's "happy to see you" (read: looking for treats).
Wolf Creek (Part 3)

Cowboy!Steve x Reader AU

Summary – You and Steve were supposed to have spent the rest of your lives together, but lies and betrayal tore you apart.  A family tragedy forces you to leave your life in the city and return to the Montana ranch you used to call home. Can you and Steve forget the past and find love again?

Warnings – None

Word Count – 2,144

Notes – I’ve finally gotten back to writing this fic and now I remember why I was so excited about this one!  This is going to be some major romantic drama!!  I have so many plans for this fic and I can’t wait for you guys to read it! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!  As always, feel free to leave me any comments or feedback!

Part 1

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Previously:

“Maybe not,” Bucky acknowledged, “but there is something that you need to know before we go any further.”

Bucky was always good at keeping a straight face, so the anxious look in his eyes instantly had you worried.  “What do I need to know?”

“You’re not going to like this, (Y/N),” he began, refusing to look you in the eye.  “Your dad made Steve the ranch foreman five years ago.”



 

A chill went down your spine as you stared at your friend, your eyes wide in disbelief.  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m sorry, doll, it’s true.” Bucky seemed to be debating with himself before finally giving in and continuing.  “I will tell you this.  Ste. . He was hesitant to take the job at first, but needed the money and Wolf Creek is one of the best.  Not as good as South Hills, but it’s okay.”

Keep reading

2

“Iron Lady” - [Jeremy Irons / Tom Hiddleston - Multi-chapter].

Chapter I: “Horses”.

SummaryWidower Jeremy, falls for and marries his son’s friend despite tripling her age. And just a few years later, his health problems and the return of his best friend, Tom, to London, make him doubt his marriage and wonder if his wife would be better off with a younger man like his friend.

Written by: A.Wölf.

Notes: This is fiction, and these wonderful actors are just playing these characters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeremy was sitting behind the desk in his study, going through his mail.

He opened a drawer to pull out a folder, and a photograph fell out. He picked it up and squinted through his glasses to get a good look at it. He smiled when he saw his younger self staring back at him, and he put the picture away but his line of sight deviated and he found himself staring at the portrait of his young wife on their wedding day, right there on the desk. He became expressionless once he realized that she was the same age as him in that old photograph.

Jeremy stood up but as if life itself wanted to mock him, a sharp pain in his lower back made him groan and bend over with a grimace.

“What is it?” his wife asked, suddenly standing by the door, “Are you okay?”

“My bloody back…” he said.

But his ego seemed to be hurting far more.

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56 things about James Potter

Since it is the birthday of the biggest nerd to ever exist, here are 56 facts to represent 56 years since the birth of our favorite stag 

  1. he has so much nervous energy, he constantly is shaking his leg during class or flipping his quill through his fingers 
  2. every photograph of him from before age 11 has his hair slicked to the side (thanks to copious amounts of Sleekeazy) and to this day just the scent of his fathers potion makes him gag
  3. in fourth year he decided that he looked better without glasses and for two months walked around hogwarts essentially blind. sirius was his guide. 
  4. in fourth year james broke his ankle tripping down stairs. 
  5. james refuses to say that not wearing glasses and breaking his ankle were related in anyway whatsoever 
  6. he constantly cracks his knuckles. 
  7. when james was young, he made a friend with a muggle child at the park. he really, really wanted them to go to hogwarts together so he kept on trying to teach them magic 
  8. it didn’t succeed and on the day before james left for hogwarts he went to the park and said goodbye 
  9. he cried for hours after
  10. he snores like a freight-train 
  11. his handwriting is incredibly messy, in part because his hand cant keep up with his mind, but mainly because he thinks his sloppy handwriting looks cool 
  12. he tucks his hand into his fists when he punches 
  13. bc of this he’s broken his thumbs more times than he can count so hes gotten really good at basic healing spells 
  14. but his thumbs still look a bit wonky regardless 
  15. he has random freckles on his collarbone, left knee and on the back of both of his hands
  16. each year he thinks of a new ‘cool’ catchphrase that he thinks will 100% catch on 
  17. it literally never does 
  18. the summer before 6th year he and sirius constantly hung around near muggle shops to learn about muggle fashion 
  19. sirius wanted to piss of his family, james wanted to impress lily 
  20. he had a lisp up until he was ten. he had a hard time with his ‘th’ sounds. 
  21. in fifth year he announced he wasn’t going to cut his hair until either…
  22. A. the gryffindors lost a quidditch match 
  23. or B. they won the house cup 
  24. the gryffindors never lost a match, and so his hair ended up resembling that of a lions mane (he liked to pretend he was a real-life mascot for the team instead of a 15 year old with wild, ungroomed hair) 
  25. when they won the house cup it was sirius who cut it off
  26. which was a bad decision bc sirius was drunk and delirious (both from winning and from getting a bludger to the head) 
  27. it ended up with james having fifty more cowlicks than he already had and patches of hair altogether missing from his scalp 
  28. he, of course, wore this haircut with pride bc it meant that gryffindor had won the bloody cup 
  29. he lowkey slept with his stuffed lion until he was 13 
  30. even then he always had him under his bed up until harry was born, he then passed down the raggedy old thing to him 
  31. he doesnt trust horses tbh their eyes are too human-like for him to feel comfortable around them 
  32. he has a small gap between his two front teeth. you cant notice it from far away, but up close you can tell he definitely has one 
  33. sirius and james pretty much shared a bed the first three years at hogwarts. sirius had really bad night terrors, and james had always wanted a younger brother to protect so it worked out well 
  34. he proposed to lily after a battle. they had lost ten people in under two hours. he didnt have a ring, but it didnt matter 
  35. the next day he “properly” proposed in their flat (it was really james’ and sirius’ flat but lily essentially lived there now). he gave her his mother’s engagement ring. he transfigured the diamond to take the shape of a lily
  36. in second year sirius bet that james couldnt live off of a diet of strictly chocolate frogs. 
  37. james took the challenge but ended up in the hospital wing a month and a half later with scurvy 
  38. from second year on he would always consciously change the pitch of his voice whenever he knew lily was in ear shot 
  39. it was only in the beginning of 7th year when she got drunk in the head common room with him did his tone accidentally slip back to normal 
  40. this is also the night he had his first kiss with lily, because she realized what he had been doing all this time and how ridiculous it was and how ridiculous he was and how ridiculously in love she was with him. 
  41. james would always throw the invisibility cloak over himself in the ultimate game of peek-a-boo with harry 
  42. it was great until harry started to become mobile and pull the cloak over himself, ending up in a four hour search for an infant who had fallen asleep under a sheet of invisibility 
  43. his shoes are ALWAYS untied 
  44. when he starts talking about something he feels passionately about, his voice automatically gets louder and louder until he either finishes his point or his throat goes hoarse 
  45. james’ first word was “uh-oh” 
  46. he is obsessed with qudditch. he would have practices at night because he thought other teams would spy on them and practices would last 6 hours or more. like he honestly made oliver wood look like a casual fan 
  47. before 6th year he and sirius got tattoos. 
  48. james got antlers smack dab in the middle of his back, while sirius got dog prints leading down his lower back 
  49. they were both 10000% sober and not at all drunk nope not at all 
  50. they didnt realize they actually had tattoos until a few days later when they were practicing quidditch in the potter’s backyard. they had both taken off their shirts to bc it was august and hot and ‘oh my god, padfoot you’ve got a tramp stamp’
  51. james was really short up until the summer before fourth year when he shot up like a foot in a half 
  52. it took him until he was 18 to actually get used to his height and not trip over his own gangly limbs 
  53. 6th year was the official “james potter is convinced he is john lennon” year. lily never admitted it but john lennon had always been her favorite beatle. 
  54. he never seems to get cold?? it would be the middle of winter and he would be in hogsmeade with a light-weight robe on while everyone else had on like four layers of wool. 
  55. he had a really bad habit of flipping his wand in his hand. most of the time it was fine, but one time he accidentally set a first year’s uniform on fire. 
  56. james died with bloody knuckles, he may not have had his wand but he refused to die without a fight. 

Collision Course - Part Ten

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven,
Part Eight, Part Nine

This is the last installment save for the Epilogue. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride. - Mod Lenny


Ian insisted Jamie ride out with him to look over the fields and give his opinions.

“Ian, I ken ye know what ye’re about wi’ runnin’ the estate,” Jamie finally interrupted as they sat on their horses looking out over a field of flourishing barley. “And it doesna matter that ye brought me out here away from the house and Jenny––I’m no tellin’ ye about what happened. I said I didna want to talk about it and I’m no goin’ to. It doesna matter anymore anyway. Murtagh will be back today or the next and then I’ll be off again.”

“And will ye be sending us as little word of where ye are or what ye’re about as ye did before?” Ian asked with a scolding edge that would have left Jamie feeling ashamed if he weren’t still so numb. “Whatever it is that’s happened to ye this last… it doesna excuse yer silence the last four years.”

“I told ye what Dougal told me about Jenny,” Jamie objected.

“That explains it; it doesna excuse it,” Ian clarified. “Jenny and I will take care of Lallybroch as if it were our own and ye ken that well; it’s been her home longer than it’s been yers. But I think we both deserve a bit of honesty from ye, aye? A bit more respect than what ye’ve shown.”

“Ye’re startin’ to sound like Jenny,” Jamie remarked, the corner of his mouth ticking up a fraction.

“No, Jenny would have called ye a stubborn and ungrateful arse.”

“She already did. Ye were off dealin’ wi’ Ross the smith, gettin’ him to reshoe my horse.” Jamie reached down to pat Dóchas’ neck and the horse stamped her foot and raised her head, shaking it like a nod.

Ian sat straighter in his saddle, squinting in the direction of the house. “Ye said Murtagh ought to be back today?” Ian asked, settling down again.

“Aye.” Jamie peered in the direction Ian had been looking, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Was he off to fetch someone for ye?”

There were two riders slowing on the road as they approached Lallybroch’s main yard in the distance.

“Claire?” Jamie breathed, his heart breaking into an excited gallop as he turned Dóchas back the way they’d come and spurred her forward.


As soon as they entered the yard, Claire began calling for Jamie.

Murtagh dismounted and walked over to help Claire down from her horse while her eyes scanned the windows of the large stone building––Lallybroch.

“Jamie!” Claire called heading for the door.

A young boy darted out from it in front of her soon followed by a woman about Claire’s own age, shorter and her hair darker and sleeker.

“Get back inside ye wee––” Jenny scolded her son before spotting Claire and stopping abruptly in her pursuit. “Oh… And… who might you be?” Suspicion lay heavy in her voice and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m looking for Jamie,” Claire said quickly, her attention flitting from Jenny to the child to Murtagh where he had already unpacked her medicine box and had the horses by the reins, leading them toward the stables. “My name is Claire… Claire Fraser.”

“Fraser?” Jenny’s suspicion visibly turned to bewilderment and her focus shifted from Claire to Murtagh.

“Are you Jenny? You are. You’re his sister, aren’t you?” Claire said desperately and with relief as she stepped forward. “Where is he? Where’s Jamie?”

“And you, Murtagh,” Jenny said loudly, ignoring Claire and getting Murtagh to stop and face her. “Where do ye think ye’re sneakin’ off to? Is this lass… is she sayin’ she’s  Jamie’s wife?”

From the other side of the yard came the sounds of two horses approaching and Jamie’s loud cries of, “Claire!”

“Jamie?!” Claire screamed trying not to trip over her skirts as she ran towards the noise.

“Claire!” Jamie cried as he was off Dóchas before the horse had come to a safe stop.

As Claire threw herself into Jamie’s arms, the rest of the world fell away. Tears of joy and relief streamed down her cheeks and soaked into his coat where she buried her face. She could feel him murmuring her name in disbelief into her hair as they took a few moments to just soak each other in.

“Why, Claire?” Jamie finally asked pulling back from her to look at her face. She could see the wetness in his eyes, the confusion and the relief. “Why did ye no go?”

“I couldn’t,” she said simply, raising a hand to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into her touch.

“I’m sorry, lass,” he whispered.

“What? No, I didn’t mean… I meant I couldn’t leave you––I didn’t want to. I was there with Frank at the stones but when the moment came… I couldn’t make myself do it. I chose to stay here… I choose you,” she murmured, her hand slipping back into his hair, taking a firm hold.

“Me? Ye mean…”

She swallowed hard against the butterflies crawling their way up from her stomach. “I love you,” she whispered.

There was a flicker in Jamie’s glistening eyes that might have been surprise before he bent his forehead to hers. “And I… love you,” he whispered back, then rubbed the tip of his nose down the length of hers before kissing her in a way that made every hair on her body stand on end as it shivered through her down to her toes.

They gradually became aware of Murtagh clearing his throat loudly. He gave Jamie a nod towards Jenny and Ian before turning to continue bringing the horses to the stables, his beard barely concealing his satisfied smile.

“Would ye care to introduce us?” Jenny suggested with unveiled impatience. Ian made a noise of embarrassment or rebuke beside her.

“Right,” Jamie started out of his reverie. He gently slipped his hand into Claire’s, twining their fingers together tightly as he led her over to his family. “Jenny… Ian… This is Claire… my wife. I told ye about Jenny, Sassenach; Ian is her husband. We were lads together––and fought in France just after my Da passed.”

Claire reached a hand towards Ian who glanced briefly at Jamie before shaking it and nodding a welcome to Claire.

“And you’re expecting,” Claire nodded down to Jenny’s belly where the subtle swell could still easily be overlooked. It quickly became apparent that Jamie hadn’t noticed. “When are you due?”

“No till after the harvest comes in,” Jenny admitted, flushing under Jamie’s stunned gaze. “Come inside wi’ ye then. Ye’ve been on the road some time, I can see. Will do ye good to be able to wash and get something warm in yer belly. When ye’ve had a chance to settle, perhaps you can tell us a bit about where ye come from and just how ye come to be married to Jamie here.”

Jamie showed Claire up to his rooms and stayed with her while she tidied herself and they devised a story that would hopefully satisfy Jenny and Ian. Over an early supper and with Murtagh contributing through nods and grunts of confirmation, Jamie and Claire fumbled their way through as much of the truth as they dared share. The circumstances of Claire’s arrival at Leoch and surrounding their wedding remained intact.

“We stumbled on some Red Coats––likely those searching for the deserters I’d… disposed of,” Jamie explained, looking to Claire for support. “It was chance as much as anything that Captain Randall wasna among them when we met them but we figured it was likely just a matter of time before word reached him of meeting us and the bodies of the deserters were discovered.”

“We were afraid that the Captain would see it as an opportunity to be seized––pin more crimes on Jamie and take me in as well as some sort of accomplice,” Claire said, her nerves making her talk faster than usual.

“I told her she go to her late husband’s family, that they’d likely be better able to protect her than I could if the price on my head grew… So I left her behind wi’ Murtagh to see her off. I thought it would be safer should I go and perhaps draw the Red Coats after me.”

“But when it came down to it… I don’t know them to trust them and… Jamie’s my husband now. Where he goes, I go,” Claire explained, her focus rooted in Jamie’s eyes.

They were too absorbed in each other to notice the looks Jenny and Ian exchanged across the table. From the set of Jenny’s mouth, it was obvious that she didn’t believe a fraction of the tale they told. But glancing back from the Laird and his Lady to her own husband, Jenny’s expression softened to match Ian’s.

Jamie was an entirely different man from the one he’d been that morning. The cloud that had hung about him since he’d reappeared was gone; there was a light in his eyes and she couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him smile so much––possibly not since their brother had been alive. There was a similar light in this woman’s––Claire’s––face when she looked at Jamie. Whatever they were hiding, Jenny decided it didn’t matter; what mattered to her was that her brother was home and happy, even if he would be leaving again soon.

Jamie and Claire retired to their room shortly after supper, pleading Claire’s need to rest and recover from her journey––returning from Craigh na Dun had taken half as long in Claire’s eagerness to be with Jamie again.

The door had only just closed behind them before they were in each other’s arms again, tugging at clothes and moving naturally toward the bed. The mattress was suddenly there pressing against the backs of Claire’s legs. She sat and hitched one leg up on the frame so that her skirts started falling away as she reached for Jamie’s belt. His arousal was already prominent beneath the soft, worn wool of his kilt. He took hold of her wrists and stalled her.

“No, Claire.” His voice was low and rough. “No like this. I’ll have ye naked.” Letting her wrists go, he set to work loosening the knot at the top of her bodice. She leaned back on the bed and succumbed to the feel of his hands working over her as he slowly stripped away each layer she wore.

As her last petticoat fell, she moved to stand reaching for the clasp of his belt once more. “Now you,” she told him. From the belt she moved to the buttons of his waistcoat, smoothing the fabric down his torso with her hands first.

At last, Jamie raised Claire’s shift up and over her head then reached up and pulled the pins and ties from her hair until he could bury his fingers in it. She caught his wrist as he traced the curl of one thick tendril from root to tip. Turning his wrist around, her thumb found the freshly healed scar from where Dougal’s blade had sliced the skin. The line it made was clean compared to the rough scabs of the scratches and scrapes from his accident in the woods.

“Blood of my blood,” Claire said quietly, tracing the fine line.

Jamie brought that same hand to her chin, his thumb running along the line of her jaw as her fingers continued to massage the flesh of his wrist and hand.

“Bone of my bone,” he whispered in response before bending to kiss her.

His hands were eager as they ran down the soft curves of her body before tightening around her waist and lifting her off the ground. She clung tight to his back as he bore her down on the bed, settling between her legs but keeping his weight on his forearms on either side of her.

She trailed her fingers up and down his spine, delighting as he shivered. The heat from his body––balanced so carefully above hers but barely skimming her surface––enveloped her and penetrated her, warming her bones as she was aware of the solid heaviness of him between her legs.

“I give you my body,” she whispered, spreading her legs wider and arching towards him, gasping as he pressed back against her and filled her. “That we two may be one,” she finished, her voice fainter than before.

Jamie caressed her cheek while staying still as long as he could within her. “I give ye my spirit,” he whispered, his eyes locked on hers while tracing the shape of her ear and then from her earlobe down along her neck, “till our life shall be done.”

He started to move as he bent his head to kiss her again, capturing her sigh before it could leave her lips.

“Ye’re mine,” he told her, punctuating the statement with a deep rock into her. “Mine alone… mine forever.”

“Yes,” Claire panted in agreement, her fingers digging into the firm, tight flesh of his lower back, her legs twining with his.

“My wife… my Sassenach,” Jamie grunted, his pace increasing as he drove himself harder and Claire’s hands drifted lower to the flexing muscles of his buttocks, her fingernails digging hard enough to leave marks.

“Yes,” she panted again.

“Mo nighean donn… mo chridhe… mo graidh,” he continued in Gaelic.

“Yes… And what about… you?” she sighed. “Who… do you… belong to?”

“You, Sassenach,” Jamie said, pressing his forehead to hers as he bit his lip and changed his rhythm yet again, slowing himself to stave off his release until he could bring her with him. “I’m yers… for always.”

Claire cried out as her thighs suddenly clenched around his hips, trapping him deep within her as her self shattered and scattered, leaving her trembling next to the exposed rawness of Jamie’s shattered self. She saw only him looking deep into the very soul of her as the throbbing pulse of their bodies synchronized from the blood in their veins to the breath in their lungs.

The sweat began to cool on her breasts and stomach sending a shuddering chill through her flesh.

This was why she couldn’t go, what she needed so desperately it was worth sacrificing everything and everyone she’d known in her time. It couldn’t be explained, it could only be experienced, and she’d only ever experienced it with Jamie. The recognition in his eyes, the understanding…

Claire raised her head without taking her eyes off of him until her lips met his, tender and warm, a little wet as his tongue darted out to taste her.

“I love you.”

Tha gaol agam ort.

The Signs As Suburban Haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere.

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

Keep reading

Jon Snow x Female!Reader

Prompt: Hey, i saw you have requests open, could you write a oneshot where the reader is a ward at winterfell and in love with Jon? Maybe they are reunited when Jon is king in the North? Thanks. X

Note: This is my first attempt at writing anything for Game of Thrones, so feel free to message me is there are any mistakes or if there is anything i should change. Hope you enjoy! Xx

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Jon/Reader

You supposed that one of the reasons for your closeness with Jon Snow was that you were both impostors in the Stark family, he was a Snow and a bastard, and you were a Greyjoy and a traitor. You didn’t quite fit in with the Stark’s perfect family.

Your brother Theon had it easier. He had a cock between his legs, and would be able to fight for Robb, or at least be a strong ally due to the salt that ran through his veins. He was a valuable piece in the game of thrones.

You on the other hand had less value to the Starks. You could of course be married off, but you had traitors blood, so any marriage would mostly likely be to a second son of a lowly bannerman, and of no benefit to the Starks. It was Ned Stark’s honor that kept you in fine clothes (albeit not as fine as Sansa’s) and kept a roof over your head; it was the same for Jon.

The pair of you had bonded over your outsider status within the walls of Winterfell. You had sat together on the servants table when the Lords of the North visited, drunk the servants bad but strong ale, and stumbled your way through the castles halls back to your respective quarters.

You had loved him in such a way that only the innocence of youth can grant.

Things were so much simpler them. You thought to yourself as you tightened your grip on the reins of your horse. Not much longer to Winterfell.

As you rode you thought back to the last time you saw Jon.

________________________________

It had been the day Jon left for the wall, and ever since he had told you he would be leaving with his uncle you had been dreading it. You prayed to the Gods that he would change his mind, but you knew deep down that his heart was set.

When you heard the faint knock at your door you knew your prayers had been left unanswered. He had come to say goodbye.

“Lady ‘Y/N’?”

“It’s open” You said with a sigh. You had always loved him as a friend, but it had never been your plan to fall in love with him.

You could feel Jon’s eyes on you, as you practiced your needle work; something you only ever did when you were avoiding something else. In this case, you were avoiding Jon.

You had always known about his dreams to see the wall, and had expected it to sting if he ever did go. What you hadn’t expected was the sense of betrayal that you currently felt.

You felt Ghosts nose nudge at your elbow, and you quickly buried your face into his soft fur. You were iron born, and despite having been raised in the North, you still refused to let Jon see that you had been crying.

“Y/N please… look at me.” You could hear the desperation in Jon’s voice, and that was what caused you to look up. You never could bear to think of him in pain.

“What do you want Jon? Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

You knew you were being cold, but you told yourself a prolonged goodbye would only make things worse.

Jon beckoned for Ghost, who acquiesced, returning to his Master. You let out a small whine at the loss of his soft fur.

Jon sat down next to you on the foot of your bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Come on love, you’ll be okay” He said giving you a small squeeze. Gods I’m going to miss this.

“Besides, I’ll have to visit Winterfell. It’s hardly as if this is goodbye forever.”

You pulled away. He didn’t understand.

“Bloody Hell Snow you really do know nothing!” You softened your voice when you continued, “You’ll be back in a year maybe two if you’re lucky. I’m of an age Jon I might not have that long until they find me a husband.”

Jon’s face sunk at the realization; this could be it. His grey eyes were clouded over, and you wondered if he was going to cry. Instead he did something else, something less expected.

Jon stood up, taking your hand in his. He said nothing, but his cool grey eyes were locked with yours. Stark eyes. You thought to yourself, as he raised his free hand to your cheek. His touch was warm, and you leaned into it.

He looked into your Y/E/C eyes, and for a moment you feared that he was going to back away. Instead he pressed his lips against yours.

You melted into the kiss, quickly wrapping your arms around his waist. You pulled him closer to you, trying to keep as little space between your two bodies as physically possible. You felt his hands roam down your body, tracing the curve of your breasts and hips coming to rest on your hips.  

You heard a voice call out for Jon, and he quickly pulled away. “It’s Uncle Benjen. I’m sorry Y/N… I have to go.”

Jon turned towards the door, and Ghost was quick to follow him. You remained stood in the spot where Jon had left you. You wanted to call out, to tell him that you loved him, that he couldn’t leave you. Instead you watched him leave.

The Brunette lingered in the door way for a moment, and gave you a sad smile “Goodbye Y/N”

The door clicked shut, and he was gone.

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You could feel yourself slipping in the saddle of your horse, and your eyes lids were heavy. Your bones ached with tiredness, but you carried on, spurred on by the twinkling lights of Winterfell, and the thought of Jon.

After the Red wedding, you had fled. You rode for days, to the docks; and there took the first ship to the free cities. Your ship landed in Braavos, and after days penned up in a cabin you were glad to be on dry land. Your time with the Starks had left you a Greyjoy unable to sail. You let out a bitter laugh.

In the docks of Braavos you heard stories of Dragon queens, dwarfs riding pigs and fierce horse lords. You had been happy for a while, until you heard a tale of a Lord commander from the Wall being raised from the dead and claiming his father’s halls.

When you heard the tattooed Westrosi sailors share the story, you thought you might be sick. It was Jon, he was home – and in danger.

It had been a week since that day, and you were so close to your destination. You couldn’t succumb to the tiredness now, not when you were so close to home.

As you approached the gates, you saw a man on horseback riding to greet you, he seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place where it was that you knew him from, as you slipped into sleep.

When you awoke, it was not on horseback, but in a soft bed, with a jolt you realised that you were in your childhood bedroom. Winterfell. You quickly got out of the bed, hurriedly lacing up the back of a deep blue gown that had been left at the foot of your bed.

You were about to begin your descent down to the hall when you heard a soft knock at the door. You hadn’t had a chance to reply before Jon Snow walked into your room. Immediately he pulled you into a tight hug. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to cry.

You pulled away from the hug, taking an opportunity to study Jon. He was still as beautiful as he was the day he had left, but he looked older. His Jaw was harder, and his cheeks were stubbed, but his eyes had changed the most. They were still the sad deep grey eyes you knew, but harder now. His eyes had seen a lifetime of pain. You wondered how you had changed.

“You don’t know how good it is to see your face” Jon whispered, pulling you into another embrace, and placing a kiss against your forehead.

“Back at you Stark.” You said grinning up at him.

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It had been two weeks since your return to Winterfell, and the change was heavy in the air. Winter was coming, and you could feel it in your bones. Jon had been proclaimed the King on the night you arrived, two days before you woke up.

Jon spent most of his days in meetings with Sansa and his Bannermen, while you had spent this time with your brother and the books Jon had bought for you. Despite the years separated from one another he still knew you inside out.

The evenings you spent together, once you retired to bed he would bring you a glass of mulled wine and you would sit by the fire, talking. You hadn’t felt so young in years.

It was an especially cold night, and you were curled around Jon, both muttering weak excuses about the need to stay warm.

“I’m sorry I left you Y/N” Jon said suddenly, breaking the air of companionable silence.

You stiffened slightly, but regained composure with a shrug “I’m sorry too Jon, but at least I have you now.” You snuggled up closer to him.

“I learnt a lot on the Wall,” Jon said solemnly. You looked up at him questioningly, urging him with your eyes to continue. “but I think the most important lesson of all was how miserable I am without you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. So, had he loved you all of these years? What would happen now? Your thoughts were interrupted when he spoke again.

“My father’s men have made me king Y/N, and I there’s no one else I would rather have as my Queen.”

You didn’t say anything at first, and instead pulled him down into a long overdue kiss.

Zeus: [presenting Pegasus] Hey, look who came to visit Olympus! Let’s keep him! 

Athena: Didn’t I see Bellerophon on his back? What happened to him?

Zeus: What? Me? Send a fly to bite Pegasus so he’d heave Bellerophon off so he wouldn’t make it up here? How very dare you. It’s not my fault the little shit can’t stay on a horse. 

Athena: [rolls eyes]