is it just me or do they have abnormally large cups in this game

RFA + Minor Trio: Christmas Morning (☆ω☆*)

Merry Christmas!!!

Cheritz has done so much for us this Christmas with the 30% off on the Christmas DLC, Mint Eye Special believer package, and the announcement for the release of Ray’s route! I want to give a special thanks to Cheritz for making such a wonderful game and bringing so much cheer to fans around the world!

I want to thank you guys for all the Christmas wishes I have received, and for you guys being so supportive of me and my blog!

My gift to you guys!: I’ve written a mini-fic for Christmas morning with the RFA and minor trio. This is my first mini-fic scenario sort of thing so I really hope you guys like it! I hope this Christmas is wonderful for everyone, filled with joy and presents, and well spent with family! I love you guys, and once again, Merry Christmas!

Please do not request for mini Fics – I only will do mini fics for the holidays (Christmas, New Years, Halloween, etc.) I only take requests for headcanons, which will be reopening around New Years, I hope. I still have quite a lot to do – I have 42 in my inbox. Thank you :)

RFA + Minor Trio: Christmas Morning

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Yoosung

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How would you feel (part 1)- Stiles Stilinski

Author: @smutilinski

Character(s): Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word count: 2155

Warning: NSFW 18+, swearing and people insulting each other (just in case that would offend someone), Angry (possibly asshole) Stiles

AN: Please let me know what you think it would mean the world to me and it would also help me improve my writing. I apologize if the spelling isn’t perfect, as english is not my first language. Thanks to @minhosmeanhoe for all the encouragements and support :). (part 1 of 2)

Plot: (Y/N) comes back to Beacon Hills after leaving 2 years ago. Only scott knows why she left and he swore not to tell a single soul. Stiles is still very angry at her and she confronts him about it.

Part 2

You had been staring at the clock hanging on the beige wall in front of you for about five minutes, waiting for the principal to hand you your schedule. You sighed before glancing at the corridor that was empty, except for some student who were running to their classes and a tall guy that was walking towards you. The young man was wearing a blue long sleeved crewneck shirt. He had grown up a lot since the last time you had seen him. He wasn’t the cute, but dorky guy you knew 2 years ago. He had the same dark hair, but it was longer and styled messily on top of his head. When he got close enough, you could see that he needed to shave, as there were very short hairs that had grown slightly on his chin and jawline. He was even more attractive than before you left and it made your stomach flutter when you looked at him.

He sat next to you in silence as you turned slightly towards him. He opened his mouth to talk then closed it, his eye staring at the dirty floor tiles. He let out a sigh and said:  ‘’I didn’t know you were coming back.‘’ His eyes were still glued to the floor.

‘’I didn’t think you would want to know. As I recall, you texted me that you never wanted to see me again Stiles. ‘’ You said, looking back at him with a blank expression. You were getting very good at concealing your emotions from other people, but boy was it hard to do it when it came to Stiles. You had known each other for far too long to hide anything.

This time though, you were secretly hoping that he would see the tears that threatened to escape your eyes at any moment, and take you into his arms like he used to. But that didn’t happen. Instead, he got up and started to walk away before stopping to say something else, still facing the other way : ‘’ Why did you come back then? Huh (Y/N)? Why come back when everyone you’ve ever known doesn’t give a damn about you? ‘’ And when you thought he was done, he turned around and added in a soft voice : ‘’ Actually, you know what? When I saw you today, it made me think of how better my life would have been if you had died in the woods the night scott got bitten. ‘’ Without another word, he turned around and left.

By the time the principal greeted you, tears had already fallen down you cheeks. You managed to wipe them away before he could see them. He escorted you into his office to have a talk before escorting you to your class. He probably didn’t realise that you were not entirely new to Beacon Hills High School.

When you got there, the principal introduced you to the rest of the class. While he was talking, you noticed that Scott Mccall was smiling at you in the front of the class. You returned the smile and before you could do anything else, the teacher told you to sit next to none other than Mr. Asshole Stilinski. As you made your way to your seat, Scott shot you a sympathetic smile, while his best friend was glaring at you. You both spent the rest of the class in silence avoiding to look at each other. As soon as the bell rang, Stiles left without even waiting for Scott.

You had kept in touch with the true alpha during those years away so you pretty much new all the crazy things that had happened in beacon hills. Scott was also the only person who knew why you had truly left town without saying goodbye to the guy you loved so much.

He invited you to eat lunch with them. You wanted to decline, but he said that Stiles would probably just stay silent for the whole meal. So you agreed, through gritted teeth, for ‘’the sake of the pack’’.  Besides you couldn’t possibly refuse anything to scott and his cute puppy eyes.

Lunch was going on pretty well. You were getting along with everyone. So well, that you had almost forgot about what Stiles had said to you that morning. But you could feel him staring at you the whole time, which made you incredibly uncomfortable, but weirdly at the same time, the intensity of his stare was turning you on. You decided that two could play that game, so you turned your head towards him and stared at him dead in the eye while smirking. His expression didn’t change. After about a minute of intense staring on both parties, he clenched his jaw and hit the table with his fist ‘’fuck it’’ He said, glowering at you. Then he turned to look at scott, while standing up and added: ‘’Sorry Scott I tried to tolerate her, but I can’t’’ And then he left with his fists clenched

Everyone stared at the cafeteria doors with a confused expression except scott He looked even more confused than the others,  he raised his brows and opened his eyes widely, like he was onto something. He looked at you and pointed at  the door with a large grin. He said: ‘’You should go talk to him, he’s gonna want to have the full story (Y/N).’’ You slowly got up, not sure that he would even listen to you and you walked towards the doors. He wasn’t in the hallway, so you ran outside, forcefully pushing the doors. As you got outside the school you saw him leave in his jeep. It could not wait, so you got in your car and decided to go directly at his house, as he was too far ahead for you to follow him.  

When you got there, you saw that his dad was at work. You parked your car in the street and when you got out of it, you walked towards the house. You banged at the door, determined to confront him about his behaviour. You jumped almost 3 foot up when you heard someone talk behind you: ‘’what are you doing here? I thought I was clear (Y/N). If not then, I hate you so please go away’’ You could not control your emotions anymore. Tears were streaming down your face as you walked passed the guy who used to be your best friend.

He walked towards his door, unlocking it. You turned around and you slowly walked back towards your car. ‘’Can you at least understand why I am beyond mad at you?’’ He was talking loud, but not out of rage because he sounded perfectly calm. ‘’I mean, how would you have reacted if I did that to (Y/N).‘’ You turned to face him crying profusely. That’s when you realised that he was closer. ‘’ You want to know why I left so pissed earlier? Well, I was looking at you and you looked at me the same fucking way you did that night.’’ He was looking at you so intensely.

You had finally stopped crying when you held his gaze. Stiles took a deep breath, just before he ran to you and crashed his lips on yours. You kissed him back, sliding your hands at the base of his neck. He bit your lip asking for entrance and you gladly granted it to him. When he paused to breathe, he stepped back looking at you like you had just shot him with an arrow. ‘’Fuck. No.no.no shit’’ He turned around and walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him. You felt like you had no more air in your lungs. Actually it was way worse than that. You felt as if someone kicked you in the stomach after they had told you they loved you and then the set you on fire. It felt just like that night 2 years ago.

It was a normal friday night except for the fact that your mother was moving away to beverly hill for a big contract and you were going to stay at the Mccall’s until she could come back to beacon hills. You were happy because that meant that you didn’t have to leave your best friends like you were supposed to when your mother had gotten the job a month before that. You were on your way to the stilinski’s for movie night and to tell him that you were not going away after all. He greeted you with a big hug which was not totally abnormal. Even though he was your best friend, you had developed deep feelings for stiles and you were hoping that that night would be the perfect night to tell him about those feelings.

After arguing about the movie and winning the argument you sat back and contemplated the screen with a smile on your face as you heard Galadriel talk in elven. You got close to Stiles and snuggled up in the crook of his neck like you always did when you were watching movies. He wrapped his arms around you and played with your hair while you slowly drifted away and fell asleep. ‘’(Y/N), Hey, the movie is over. I can’t believe that I could have watched star wars.’’ You slowly opened your eyes only to find stiles’ mouth inches from yours. Your eyes met his and his hand moved slowly to cup your cheek.

Before you could realize it, his soft lips were on yours. You broke the kiss to straddle him while he was looking at you with a soft smile. He pulled you closer to him and kissed you again. This time was different, the kiss was harder and desperate. Your hands kept moving as you were trying to discover every inch of each other’s body. He pulled away so that you could catch your breath. ‘’My dad texted me and he’s gonna be working ‘till morning. Do you want to stay here?’’ You nodded and kissed him again. He pushed you off of him and led you to his room.

When you got there, he shot the door behind him and pushed you against it, kissing you even harder than before. You were both gasping for air, but your need to touch each other made the need to breathe seem totally useless. He stepped back to remove his shirt and then removed yours. He pulled your shorts down your legs as he kicked his own pants out of the way. Your lips reconnected as he lifted you up and carried you to his bed, putting you down carefully.

Stiles knew it was your first time too and he made sure you were comfortable in every single way he could. He removed your panties while kissing your inner thigh. You whimpered desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most. He smirked and licked your folds as you moaned his name. Your eyes rolled back and your hands tangled in his hair. ‘’Shit you taste good (Y/N)’’ He moaned against your core sending vibrations to your clit. You were getting closer as he pushed a finger inside you. You muttered a ‘fuck’ as he pushed another in. He sucked on your clit as you reached your high. He got up and licked his fingers clean.

You positioned yourself higher on the bed as he put the condom and climbed on the bed, placing himself in between your legs. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. He closed his eyes and groaned as he pushed himself slowly inside of you. He opened his eyes, meeting yours and interlaced his fingers with yours as your other hand was on his back, your nails leaving red trails against it. ‘’Stiles. Harder.’’ You moaned as the pain vanished and he obliged. He found the perfect pace and kissed you. Your moans and his deep groans filled the room as you felt your second orgasm coming fast. ‘’ Fuck (Y/N) you’re so tight.’’ Your toes curled and you dig your nails into his back. He dipped his head and rested it in the crook of your neck and kissed it. You came, clenching around his cock, sending him to his release. He rolled off of you and took off the condom throwing it away. You got under the covers as he took you in his arms and you rested your head on his chest.

‘’wow at least we got to do that before you left.’’ He smirked. You opened your eyes wide and smiled at him. ‘’ Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I’m not leaving after all! I’m going to stay at Scott’s’’. You fell asleep, cuddling.

It was nearly 4 am when you snuck out of Stiles’ bedroom without saying goodbye. You walked back to your house and you left beacon hills with your very confused mother the next day.

MONSTER - CONSEQUENCES (CHANYEOL PT.8) [CHRONICLES OF THE WOLF] *NC-17*

*Guess who got access to other Chronicle files~~*

[ Chanyeol| Monster ] 

  \ consequences

 -

The dinner was very eventful, you decided with a grin as you could picture the innocent little Haerin biting her frustrated mate. The second Jongdae’s eyes turned red you knew that girl was in some sweet trouble, and you giggled under your breath, splashing water over your face to clean off the suds.

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For New Auld Lang Syne

Happy New Year, @diversemediums! Secret Santa back again! I am here to deliver the ninth installment of your Christmas fangiftion. A few notes before we begin:

  1. The Prompt: Jamie and Claire in a cheesy Hallmark movie style fic (any time period you want to do) that makes you giggle, perhaps causes a wee bit o’ angst, and warms your heart would be the hot cocoa to my Christmas evening. NSFW accepted. At the word “Hallmark,” inspiration slammed into me. When my best friend is anywhere in earshot of the question: “How did Mrs. Fear meet Mr. Fear?” (Tonight 8 years ago, kids!) She will always always ALWAYS respond “Oh my GOD it’s the best story - like a Hallmark Christmas movie!” Ergo, this story will be loosely based on how my husband and I met during the holidays many moons ago, since Hallmark hasn’t called me yet for rights to the story.  This will also serve as my reminder to tag the wonderful @moghraidhjamie, and thank her for being so gracious as to organize this wonderful Secret Santa again this year.
  2. The Soundtrack: Bells of St. Paul by Linda Eder because her voice is stunning.
  3. This was going to be the end, but the epilogue wrote itself before I even wrote this chapter…oops.
  4. Previous installment can be found here

Chapter 5

Was there a better way to wake up?  Fully encased in thick, wool blankets to guard against the outward chill and the delicious smells of wood smoke and bacon billowing through the air?  A comfortable bed to make your cocoon, to bury yourself beneath the warmth from the harsh, cold reality of the outside world.  Safe, sheltered, warm, and loved.  Claire was perfectly cozy, and she swore she was never leaving this bed.  Not for all the tea in China.  This was Heaven, and God himself could not kick her out.

Soft padding of sock-covered feet, the rattling of ceramic dishes, and low muttered Ghaidhlig woke her from her semi-sleep state.  Claire stretched languorously, limbs extended to their full length, pointing and flexing her fingers and toes.  Her joints popped and released from their stiffened sleep state; her muscles tingled with pins and needles from the sudden movement.  Her belly growled, uncomfortable with hunger.  Her eyelids slowly blinked and fluttered open.  Blinded by the bright winter sunlight, she groped for the thick wool of the plaid blanket from the couch, hoping they had brought it with them from the couch.  Soft, worn tartan met her fingertips, and she firmly grasped her prize.  The blanket was quite large; large enough to even cover a small bed.  With her clothes strewn about the loft, the blanket would have to do.  Claire creatively draped the plaid around her - both for warmth and modesty - and headed towards the kitchen for much needed sustenance.

The sight in the kitchen didn’t do much to quell Claire’s appetite.  Above the stainless steel countertops, Jamie’s full torso was completely exposed, pajama bottoms slung low on his hips.  His muscles flexed as he worked at the stove; he whistled tunelessly to what she thought might be Good King Wenceslas.  God, he really is tone-deaf.  He bounced his shoulders and swayed his hips to his own music.  The sight was utterly adorable, and Claire couldn’t help but laugh out loud.  Her chuckle reached Jamie’s ears, and he froze suddenly on the spot, the vertebrae in his spine aligning perfectly straight to fit a soldier.  He slowly turned, spatula still in hand.  A fierce blush crept up his neck, to his face, and even stained the tips of his ears.

“I…uh…thought ye were still asleep,” Jamie confessed sheepishly.

Claire approached him slowly, careful not to startle him and to give her time to strengthen her own resolve.  She clutched the blanket, her only armor, closer to her chest.

“I was…” Claire offered an admission of her own, “…but I got hungry, and everything out here smelled so good…”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded and gestured to the familiar bar stools from the night before.  “Come, Sassenach. Let’s eat.”

__________________________________________________________________________

As if he needed one more endearing quality, Jamie could cook.  Quite well, in fact.  And considerate to boot.  He had prepared veggie omelettes to fluffy perfection with sweet yet still crunchy peppers, tangy tomatoes bursting with flavor, and smoky mushrooms that Claire could’ve sworn were truffles.  Off to the side - just in case she were vegetarian - sat a plate of bacon fried, crispy and hot.  Fresh coffee waited in a high-tech stainless steel press with any fixings one could possibly desire.  In awe of the sheer thoughtfulness of making her breakfast, Claire was simply dumbstruck.  She couldn’t remember the last time Frank offered to make her a meal, let alone when he last asked what her preference was on…anything.  Her silence must’ve panicked Jamie, as he quickly jumped with an offer to make her something vegan or anything else she might desire.  Reaching for a piece of bacon, she quieted his concerns and urged him to sit with her to enjoy their meal.

They sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by scraping forks and the soft sounds of chewing.  Stillness between them, yet, Claire’s mind was buzzing.  She had to tell him; she owed him that much.  Jamie had given her honesty - open and complete honesty.  If last night were the beginning of something, she couldn’t harbor this knowledge from him.  It wouldn’t be fair.  She needed to lay it all out on the table, let him be the one to decide if this new truth would be a game-breaker.  She cursed herself for not confessing her truth last night.  Shrouded in the mysterious moonlight, secrets become beautiful, romantic, and heartbreaking no matter how ugly they might be.  The harsh sunlight of the late morning was not as forgiving.  Secrets could never be pretty in the bright, ruthless light of day.  She had to tell him.  The only question was how.

“Something on yer mind, Sassenach?” Jamie asked.

How did he know?

“I’m sorry,” he added.  “I can hear the wheels in yer head turnin’ an wheel ye certainly dinna have a face for poker, aye?  If it’s something ye wish to keep to yerself, ye dinna need to tell me.”

Claire sighed and began playing with the scraps on her plate with her fork.  Where to begin?  She shifted stray bits of egg, mushroom, and bacon hoping they would reveal the answer like tea leaves in the bottom of a cup.  She found no resolution.

“I know we just met,” she started.  “But you should…it’s that I…well, what I mean to say -”

Jamie’s finger pressed against her lips to quiet her.  He shook his head and opened his arms to her, beckoning her closer.  A moment passed, then two, and still Claire hesitated.  He raised an eyebrow and smirked, both with his mouth and with his eyes, which held that secretive glimmer that managed to always make her knees buckle.  She caved and nodded.  Accepting his comforting embrace, she snuggled into him, her back to his front so they could perch on the same stool.  He wrapped his strong arms around her and began to slowly rock back and forth.  He whispered soft, comforting words in Ghaidhlig in her ear and smoothed her curls back from her face.  Between the soothing swaying motion and the reassuring rhythm of the ancient language whispered to her, Claire was lulled to perfect contentment.  She sighed against Jamie’s chest, fully surrendering to the solid warmth of his body.

He hummed against her hair, “Better now?”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “How did you do that?”

She felt a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest against her back.  “Och, I’ve seen Ian do this plenty of times with Jenny when she’s gotten herself all worked up… and my Da with my Mam when I was a wee’un. Sometimes it helps when yer flustered to have someone hold ye for a bit, make ye feel safe and protected.”

She sighed again against his chest, and his palms rubbed up and down her arms, the same as he did the night before when he tried to warm her.

“It’s alright, mo nighean donn,” Jamie whispered.  “Tell me yer heart; I’ve got ye.”

Claire steadied herself with a deep breath as she turned within Jamie’s arms to face him.  Her hand lovingly touched his cheek, her thumb grazing the copper stubble there.  Not Frank, she reminded herself.

“You know, I was with Frank for quite some time.  Enough time to talk about the things that we wanted and expected.  Or at least the things that he wanted and expected,” she started and then paused, waiting for the interruption that never came.  Instead, Jamie sat patiently, quietly, and nodded for her to continue.  So not like Frank.

“Shortly after we moved to Glasgow, we had a scare - I thought I was…well I wasn’t.  When I had gone to the doctor to confirm, she had noticed some…abnormalities…and I can’t - well I most likely can’t -” Her strong facade began to crumble; her chin quivered and wrinkled.  Her cheeks felt suddenly hot, and her lashes were suddenly wet with impending tears.  She absolutely hated how she looked when she lost her composure.  The fact that she knew she looked this way now made her even more upset, which made her breath come in fast, shallow gulps.

Quickly, Jamie’s large hands cradled her cheeks; his thumbs sweetly brushed away the threatening tears.  He pulled her close, sheltering her close to his heart.

“Shhh, mo nighean donn, shhh,” he whispered.  “It doesna matter to me.  Any of it.”

To his surprise, his words only made Claire sob harder into his shoulder.

“I know!” She cried.  “That’s what makes you so bloody wonderful! And will you tell me what that means for the love of God?!”

Jamie laughed and pulled her shoulders back so he could see her face.  Red, splotchy, and tear stained - but still so very beautiful to him.

“Is that so?” he smirked.  “Mo nighean donn - it means ‘my brown haired lass.’ I’ve wanted to call ye that since I saw ye walked into the bar.”

Claire stared at him, mouth gaping open like a caught fish. He had seen her.  He had seen her and thought she was special.  Special, important, beautiful.  How dare he.  Her hand flew back to smack him hard on his chest, but before her hand could make contact, he deftly caught it with his thumb and forefinger.  Jamie placed a tender kiss to her open palm.  Claire sighed against the simple gesture.  There it was again - her insides turning into molten heat at a single simple touch.  Her brain caught up with her heart, and she shook her head to clear herself of the sensation.

Claire sniffled and continued, “Yes. When I told Frank, he didn’t want to believe the doctors.  He thought we should get a second opinion - that I should get a second opinion because he certainly wasn’t the defective one - that the doctor must be wrong.  I tried bringing up adoption, and he scoffed at the idea of raising another man’s child, even though he knew how I was brought up.  But you… you! You say all the right things in multiple languages, you adopt French orphans, and you even find a way to compliment my stupid brown hair! So yes, you, James Fraser, damn you!”

When she lost her words this time, she let her forehead fall onto Jamie’s shoulder in complete surrender.  She had said her peace.  Her secret was out in the open now.  There was nowhere for her to hide, no matter how hard she try to bury her face in the crook of his neck.  Despite the blanket wrapped around her, Claire felt completely naked.

Jamie let her take her time, crying, breathing, and then crying a bit more.  He was her rock, holding her steady when she couldn’t hold herself.  He told her the words his mother used to tell him after he had had a bad dream.  He told her how beautiful she was, inside and out, knowing good and well the words would sound completely foolish in English.  He told her his heart, which was hers if she wanted it, allowing the steady rhythm of Ghaidhlig rocking them to comfortable stillness.  And even though she had no idea what he was saying, his words soothed her.  Eventually, Claire sighed and straightened.

“We’ve both said we have no idea where this might lead,” she declared, barely a whisper, “but we both know that this is different, we can feel that this is different.  Down to our very bones.  So, I’d like to ask you something that may be a bit awkward, uncomfortable, and premature.”

He kissed the tip of her nose.  “I’m an open book.”

Claire smiled weakly and asked, “Would it be alright if I met Fergus?”

____________________________________________________________________________

A few phone calls, two trips in the car, and a change of clothes later, Jamie and Claire arrived at St. Mary’s Home for Children.  The gloomy, imposing building was in the Victorian style, much like the rest of the surrounding city.  It reminded Claire of Oliver Twist and Dickens.  She thought of poorly heated rooms in the dead of winter, of meals that consisted of little more of broth and oatmeal with no green vegetables in sight, of threadbare, ill-fitting clothes that offered little protection to the elements, and of caretakers who were often more cruel than kind.  It was more than enough to send a cold shiver down her spine.  She shook her head to clear these ridiculous thoughts.  This is the 21st century, Beauchamp!  Not the 19th!  She steered her resolve and followed Jamie through the double doors.

A young man about Jamie’s age and sharply dressed met them in the bright and newly renovated lobby (not an ounce of gloom or Dickens in sight).  His light brown hair was fashionably combed back, and a warm smile graced his face.  As they approached the reception desk, it became painfully clear - that smile was for Jamie and Jamie alone.  And Claire didn’t like it one bit.

“Jamie!” The man called. “You’ve made it just in time! They’re putting on a small holiday celebration for the children. The staff said that you and your - friend - are more than welcome to join in the festivities.”

Friend. The word held just the slightest bit of disdain and distrust.  The man hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself to Claire, and the only conversation he made was directly with Jamie.  He was isolating her.

Jamie’s hand at the small of her back jolted her from her thoughts. He was gentle guiding her - never pushing her - toward the man in the suit.

“John, this is Claire Beauchamp,” Jamie said. “And Christ, man, leave the special friend nonsense at the door. We both know she’s much more than that.”

The last bit he added with a wink and a laugh.  After the courteous nods, handshakes, and awkward “hellos,” the trio headed for the corridor that lead to - as far as Claire could tell - a common area that was cheerful decorated to celebrate the holiday season.  The gleeful, high-pitched exclamations of children echoed down the hallway as they approached.  With his height and long stride, Jamie led the way, causing Claire to fall behind.  The corridor walls were littered with hand drawn pictures created by the children; some larger, framed, more artistic pieces hung at regular intervals as they were the donated works of former residents who had left the home and gone on to succeed in their endeavors.  A particular piece caught Claire’s eye, so she stopped to observe the meandering lines and colors, ignorant that Jamie had continued on ahead without her or that someone now stood beside her, admiring the same painting.

“Before you say anything, Jamie is first and foremost my closest friend,” John whispered.  “But as his lawyer I must ask if - “

“I’m not after his money if that’s what you’re asking,” Claire hissed.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair.  Claire smirked to herself.  She had bested the lawyer.  He had no other play to make, and she had ended the argument in one single blow.

He inhaled and exhaled loudly, the sound reverberating through the hall.

“I know,” John started.  “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, daughter of Henry and Julia Beauchamp. Born October 20th of the year 19-“

“You INVESTIGATED ME?!” Claire’s angry cries echoed through the corridor.

She could feel him smirking behind her. “Like I had plan to say before you interrupted me, I am a very good lawyer.”

Claire was fuming now.  Her arms crossed her chest, and her foot tapped nervously against the polished tile floor.  She anxiously awaited for the lawyer to recite more of her unorthodox upbringing, to bring up reasons why she wasn’t suited for someone like Jamie.  But they never came.  Instead, he waited.  Claire felt like bait, trapped bait.

“Forgive me, but - why would you choose to live in your late uncle’s old townhome in Western Terrace when you could’ve lived wherever your ex-boyfriend’s employer providing housing?” John asked.  It sounded completely innocent, to the untrained ear, but to Claire, she knew there was a right and a wrong answer to the question.

She sighed.  She was truly caught now.  Claire caught the angry red glow of the Exit signs in her periphery, but they couldn’t save her.  Nothing could save her now, except the truth.

Claire’s hands curled  into fists, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palms.

“I’ve given so many different answers to the same bloody question,” she murmured. “It’s essentially free - it was paid off to the bank when I was eleven.  It’s big, meaning Frank - if we’re going to talk about him use his name; he’s not bloody Voldemort or Donald Trump - and I had room to start a family, but that’s not how it all shook out is it?!”

Her voice crescendoed far past a whisper to match the loud belt of a proud soprano.  Her shrieks and cries echoed through the hallway, and the sheer volume of it embarrassed them both.  Both red-cheeked and fuming, Claire and John still stood at a stalemate, staring at that same singular piece of painted canvas.

“We didn’t travel in my first few years with Uncle Lamb,” she seethed. “He had wanted a home for me, and he made it here. He kept it here, even though we constantly traveled. I don’t normally talk about those years because it was shortly after I lost my parents, and I was hurting, and Lamb was hurting too. So I used to laugh it off. Why would this crazy man keep an odd house in Glasgow? Because he’s absolutely nutters, that’s why! Except…except he wasn’t. He was a scientist. An archaeologist. His entire life was based in preservation and in history. So I wanted a history, I wanted to preserve. I wanted my place for me and for my family and for our memories. A place where we could carve out traditions for old times’ sake. Does that answer your question?

Though Claire couldn’t see him, she felt John’s satisfactory grin behind her back.

“That will do,” he said quietly.

Claire heard his leather shoes click clack against the shiny tiles as he walked away.  He whistled a familiar tune, and the lyrics instantly flowed into her mind.

Should old acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind

Should old acquaintance be forgot

And old lang syne

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During her confrontation with John, Jamie had stolen away into the common room.  He was already seated with a young boy no more than eight years old, when Claire found herself hovering in the doorway.  Their curly heads were ducked close together - one red and one dark brown.  Soft yet rapid exchanges in French flew between them so quickly she could barely catch more than a familiar word or two.  Matching, mischievous grins were plastered across their faces, and they were giggling incessantly.  The scene warmed Claire to her core.  She hadn’t even met him yet, but she felt something deep inside her call out to both Jamie and to Fergus.  This was where she belonged - with them, with her family.

She watched as Jamie stood, ruffled the young boy’s hair, and started towards her.  When he reached the door, he smiled at her broadly and offered her his hand.

“Ready, Sassenach?” Jamie asked.

Claire returned his grin. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”

Fin…for now…

DIOmestic

(read it on AO3)

A/N: This is a present for @wasabu for Jojo’s Bizarre Secret Santa 2015! I know you like the mudads and Giorno and Jonathan so I wrote this. Hope you enjoy!! <3 <3

Merry Christmas!!


6:23 a.m.

“Good God,” grumbles Dio, still curled up in the bed with his eyes closed. “Noisy.”

“Oh, sorry,” Jonathan whispers from behind him, but the thumping of his large feet across the room doesn’t cease. Dio can almost hear him going through his mental checklist to make sure he hasn’t missed anything.

“Don’t forget the shaving cream,” Dio tells him. Jonathan always forgets and comes home with a subpar shave, because hotel shaving cream is truly awful, and Dio not only has to look at it, but also has to rub his face against it if he wants to kiss his husband.

“Yes, yes,” says Jonathan, and Dio knows he’s rolling his eyes, “it’s already in my toiletry bag, fusspot.”

“Good.” Dio ignores the jab (he is fastidious, okay, not a fusspot) because he is a benevolent husband. Instead, he yawns and settles in to go back to sleep.

Keep reading

Sweet Dreams

(gif not mine, credit to the original owner who wants to see me suffer)

A/N: The first installment of what is going to be my Exo Mafia series - yes I know it’s been done many times but I wanted my own - I’m starting with Kris because hes hot like TT  (like look at the gif omg)

Pretty please give me your feedback, this is only the beginning of the sexual frustrations that this AU will offer soooooo stay tuned(?)

Love ya’ll x

Keep reading

Ever Have I? Never.

Several someones told me to write NnT fic, so I went ahead and wrote some NnT fic. There is a significant shortage of pre-exile Holy Knight Seven Deadly Sins (a.k.a. pre-pie era) in canon and in fandom; here’s my minor contribution toward fixing that.


“Uh-huh, like you’ve ever done anything valuable.”

“And which one of you two has any incredible accomplishments to their name? Don’t tell me the old fart over there is king of the fairy tale clubhouse or something ♪.”

“Don’t aim your underhanded snark at Diane just because she’s right, Ban.”

“Hey Kiiing, I’ve told you where to stuff it before, haaven’t I?”

Meliodas sighed internally. And externally, too.

Keep reading

Damn You, Winchester

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 1,877

Warnings: Dean being a little shit but other than that, none

Summary: Dean loves to play pranks on you. 

A/N: I am so sorry I didn’t upload a new fic yesterday. I was getting a new tattoo with my best friend! They were $13 for Friday the 13th!

Originally posted by mnkxv

You had just gotten back from a solo hunt and all you wanted to do was to take a hot shower and sleep for the next couple of days. You told Sam and Dean to stay home with this one because it was really a one man’s job and Sam and Dean really needed a break.

So you decided to take the heat for this one. You trudged into the Bunker and down the metal stairs. You saw Sam in the library from the next room over and smiled softly. Sam was your best friend and the person you could tell anything to.

Dean, on the other hand, was the man you had a massive crush on. Lately, it seems like he’s been picking on you because you were the easy target in the Bunker. He used to pick on Sam all the time until you came along and it seems like he became less and less interested in his baby brother and more and more interested into the new girl.

You dragged yourself into the library and smiled at Sam who looked at you. He immediately got up and checked you to see if you had any injuries. No matter if you tell them you were fine, they will always check. That is one of the reason why you love the brothers.

“Sam, I’m fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” You let out a breathy laugh and looked up at him.

“Good, I’m glad you’re back. You rest and get comfortable because for the next couple of days, we are stuck here. It seems like nothing new is popping up on the radar so be thankful of that.” He laughed.

“Thank Chuck. Alright, I’m going to go shower and then I’ll tell you all about how I kicked their ass.” You laughed and made your way to your room which luckily had its own bathroom attacked to it. You loved Sam and Dean to the bottom of your heart but it was nice to have something to call your own.

Constantly sharing with two thirty-year-old men is exhausting. You peeled off your clothes and stuck them in the hamper, grabbed a fresh towel for yourself. You never had to worry about Sam or Dean walking into your room without knocking first. That was one of the rules you laid out for them when you moved in. They respected you, you respected them.

You ended up taking 30 minutes when you usually took 10. The hot water relaxed your muscles and really made the tension in them go away. You stepped out, feeling refreshed. You wrapped your towel tightly around your body after semi-drying your hair.

You immediately went to your drawer that contained your bras, underwear, and socks. When you opened it, your eyes widened and you gasped.

“DEAN WINCHESTER, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE.” You couldn’t believe what that asshole did. The door opened to reveal said asshole with a smug grin on his face.

“Hey, you’re back. How was the hunt?” The little shit pretended like he had no idea why you called him in there.

“What the fuck did you do to my panties?” You helped up a few pair of cut up underwear.

“Why are you yelling at me? I did you a favor; you needed new ones anyways.” You growled out as you threw the wrecked panties at his face. He laughed and dodged them fairly easily.

“You are so buying me new ones. You are replacing every single pair you wrecked.” The man-child kept on laughing even as you threw a pillow at him. He held up his hands in defense as he nodded.

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You groaned out in frustration, ready to throw something at him but he left the room. You just would have to go panty-less for a couple of days.

Dean actually replaced your entire underwear set the very next day which you were proud of. You thought he would take his sweet time in doing so. The next day was a day off for you and the brothers so you decided to enjoy it while catching up on shows with your favorite candy ever: M&Ms.

You grabbed your bowl that you stashed away so that the boys wouldn’t eat it. You made your way to the makeshift living room where the TV was. This TV and the TV in Sam’s room were the only ones that had Netflix but you didn’t mind.

You got comfortable and tuned into your favorite show. You picked up a handful of M&Ms and shoved them into your mouth. You chewed happily until you tasted something off about them. You took some tissues that were lying around and spit them out, finally tasting the rainbow of skittles.

If there was one thing you hated, it was skittles. They were the worst of the worst and Dean knew it.

“DEAN!!!” You yelled out for him.

“Having trouble?” His head popped into the room moments later.

“You mixed skittles with my M&Ms?? Why would you do that? You know I hate skittles!” You accused him. He smirked, not even denying it was him.

“I thought you needed some flavor.” You growled and took a handful of the candy, throwing it directly at Dean. Some hit him and effortlessly bounced off of him and some hit the wall.

“You clean that up right now.” You set down the bowl and stomped into your room.

Dean has been getting on your nerves lately and you don’t know what’s crawled up his beautifully sculpted ass for him to act this way towards you. You weren’t really awake since it was 7 in the morning and you needed your coffee.

You knew Sam was up and probably already back from his run but you knew Dean was awake. He always likes to sleep in. Rarely ever is he up at 7 in the morning.

You walked into the kitchen and brewed yourself a fresh pot of coffee and waited while getting out the sugar and cream. A couple minutes later, you heard the coffee machine tell you that your coffee was ready and you grinned, taking the pot out and pouring yourself some coffee.

You poured in a generous amount of sugar and cream, stirring it up. Sam walked into the kitchen and smiled, his hair a little damp from the shower he took.

“I made you some coffee.” You took a sip of your own coffee.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Sam said but it was too late. You spit the coffee out all over the counter, glaring at the elder Winchester who walked into the kitchen.

“I thought you were asleep.” Sam said in confusion.

“I just had to see her take a sip of her coffee.” Dean let out a laugh. Even if his smile was gorgeous, you were getting sick and tired of his pranks.

“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes and abandoned your coffee as you left the brothers to clean your mess up.

It’s been a few days since you came back from your hunt and Sam still hasn’t found a new one. You really wanted to help but you were afraid that Dean would mess with you in some way. For the most part, he left you alone but that only scared you more since he must be waiting for his big ‘masterpiece’.

You walked into the kitchen, ready to cook yourself something since you didn’t trust Dean to make your food. You got out the supplies you needed but realized you needed a measuring cup but when you went to go reach for it, it wasn’t there.

That fucker put it on the top shelf and you weren’t about to go find the step ladder to get it yourself. Sam was out of the Bunker doing Chuck knows what so you had no choice but to ask Dean for help.

“Dean?” You called out for him. It was like he was waiting for you to call for him because he was in the kitchen not a moment later.

“You called?” He smirked.

“First, screw you. Second, get that off the top shelf; I need it.” You crossed your arms and sent him a glare. He chuckled and made his way to you. Before you had a chance to move out of the way, he was already pushing his body into your front and reaching up to grab the item.

Even when he set it on the counter, he didn’t move from his place. He looked down into your eyes and just held your gaze.

“Th-thanks.” You gulped. All he did was wink at you and moved away from you so that every breath you took wasn’t filled with whiskey and gunpowder. You watched as he turned and left you to your devices.

You were very confused as to what kind of game Dean was playing. He’s never played this many pranks on you all at once. He never used to do this many at a time but you couldn’t seem to figure it out.

Currently, you were searching for a case with Dean because Sam was in the storage room looking for who knows what. You were peacefully looking at articles and trying to figure out if certain ones called out for your attention when Dean cleared his throat.

“What do you want, Dean?” You sighed without looking up from your laptop. You heard his chair scrape and saw a large frame take the seat next to you.

“You have something…” He trailed off. You sighed and looked up at him.

“If this is another one of your shit pranks, I don’t want to hear about it.” You saw him give you a small smile but he shook his head.

“What do I have?” You bit your lip and touched your face to see if you could feel something.

“Here, let me.” He cupped your cheek with his abnormally large hand and pulled you close. Your heart started racing and you didn’t know what was going to happen next. Your eyes danced across his but you couldn’t find yourself to look away. He kept pulling you closer until he pressed his lips against yours.

His lips were better than what you imagined them to be. He was a damn good kisser, knowing exactly how to take care of you. You’ve kissed a lot of guys in your day but none of them compare to the green eyed beauty.

You barely began to kiss him back before he pulled away.

“If that was a prank, its mean.” You whispered as you blushed and stared into his eyes.

“No, not a prank.” He smiled when you pressed your lips to his. You kissed him with more passion than before.

“Hey guys, so get this…” Sam started to say. He stopped short at what he saw before him. You pulled away when you heard Sam’s voice and blushed, hiding your face in Dean’s shoulder.

“What did you find, Sammy?” Dean turned his head to his younger brother.

“It can wait.” He rushed out and left you to be with Dean alone.

“Where were we?” He smirked and pressed his lips to yours.