this came out like arse but

Meet the Artist!

It’s about time I did a nicer one of these than that old meme one I did like… Last year? Whenever it was! xD

I am like, so ridiculously proud of how the objects I drew came out. I couldn’t be arsed to go lift them from the internet, so I drew ‘em instead. xD The Metroid Prime, Rush, and Dr. Pepper logos; the Samus decal on the 3DS; the betta; and of course Mod-Kirinhorse anthro! I’m still bad at clothes but meh!

I opted for my actual hair instead of the usual bob cut I normally use for Zen, since this is Me-Zen rather than OC-Zen. c: I’m overdue for a haircut!
Fun fact, because I haven’t trimmed the ends since the last time I got it cut into a bob, my ponytail will split down the middle and lay on each shoulder when I bend down and stand back up. xD
Fun fact two, all five elements of the Chinese Zodiac are represented in my family!

Jealousy pt.1

Originally posted by nnochu

•Bad language
•Reader x Jungkook
•Filthy, filthy smut
•Took me ages writing this
•Daddy kink
•I’m going to hell for this
•Dirty talk
•Rough, against the wall sex

Don’t take the comments seriously, its just a joke, I don’t wish to purposely insult bts

Summary: Taehyung is jealous of your relationship with Jungkook, Kook reminds you who you really belong too

Keep reading

“Ow, frick.” You muttered to yourself when you accidentally walked into the coat rack, reaching up to grab it quickly so that it wouldn’t fall over. 

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you knew for sure it was pretty late. You thought you’d be back around two hours ago, but those fruity drinks at the bar kept calling your name and you couldn’t help but stay for two (or four) more drinks with Y/F/N! You hadn’t hung out with her for a hot minute and you could honestly say it was one of the best nights you’d had in a while. So yeah, maybe you were a little tipsy, but at least you were able to make it back home safe! The only problem you faced now was Harry. Harry didn’t mind when you went to hang out with your friends. In fact, he encouraged it! (“I promise you I’ll log out of Netflix if you don’t get off your arse, love.”) He just didn’t like it when you came home in the wee hours of the morning. 

A plan was bubbling away in your mind as you made your way up the stairs as quietly as possible, thinking about how you could conduct yourself in a way where Harry wouldn’t wake up. He usually went to bed pretty early, plus he was a deep sleeper. Your plan was super, super simple. All you had to do was a) get into the room, b) go to the dresser in the dark, c) change into a clean shirt, d) go to the washroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, e)- You froze when one of the steps creaked under your foot before you took another cautious step up the stairs. The point was: Get changed, slip into bed, and don’t wake Harry up. 

“Get changed, slip into bed, don’t wake your boyfriend up.” You sang quietly, twisting the doorknob and opening the door slowly before poking your head in. This was exciting! It was like you were a spy on a secret mission. If you were a spy, you’d be the best spy. Scratch that, you’d be the bestest spy! 

“I’d be the bestest spy.” You trailed off, squinting your eyes as you tried to maneuver yourself in the dark. You perked up when you felt the handle of the dressers, pulling it open and rummaging through it for a shirt. “Move over, James Bond.” You giggled to yourself, wiggling out of your dress and nearly stumbling over your feet. “The name’s Bond. Y/N Bon-” You stopped when the room suddenly flooded with dim light, turning around to see a groggy Harry with his hand on the lamp switch. 

“Don’ remember hiring a stripper. I’m in a committed relationship, thank you very much.” Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, lips tugging up in a lazy smirk at the sight of your half-naked state. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” You joked, padding over to Harry and flopping down on top of him, your legs on either side of his torso. 

“You said you were comin’ home three hours ago, you dolt. Didn’t pick up your phone when I called.” Harry hummed, hands gripping your hips lightly before he squeezed. 

“I know, I know.” You yawned, stretching your limbs and wincing when you felt a couple cracks.  “Ooh, wanna know something that happened tonight? Y/F/N was getting drinks for us and-” 

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. Shh…” You squeaked when Harry patted your face and shut his eyes again. 

“I know, but- Woah!” You giggled when Harry shoved you off of him before rolling on top of you, pinning you down with a loose grip. 

“I think the bestest spy should be the bestest at keepin’ quiet, so why don’ we do tha’?” He hummed, reaching over and flicking the lights off. 

“Touché.” 

+

gif isn’t mine!

Unorthodox [m]

genre : smut

summary : you broke up with your boyfriend, and yet you still find yourself underneath him.

Your hands leafed through the rack as your eyes looked for the perfect little combo. You didn’t have an exact style in mind, maybe something nice and perhaps powder blue. You didn’t want something too gaudy and try hard, you’d never forgive yourself if you wore something like that. 

Baekhee was on the other side of the rack also working through the pieces. “I thought you guys weren’t together anymore.” She said, breaking your stealthy concentration.

You looked up at her, “Oh no, we aren’t together. You know that.”

Keep reading

Hungry (M)

Requested by: @ioannadrit Hello dear I hope you like this <3

Characters: Kim Hanbin (BI, iKon), You (Reader/OC)

Genre: Smut

Warning/s:  Kitchen Counter Dirty Sex, Spanking, Choking, Hair Pulling, Everything OH GOSH THIS IS MY PASS TO HELL TYVM

Length: 2,284 words

Plot:   You are cooking dinner for you and your boyfriend because he texted you that he’s hungry.  However, when he gets home, you’ve realized that he’s actually not hungry for food.

A/N:  I personally think that I went a bit overboard but yeah I am always like that so I hope you enjoy and I apologize about any errors.

~~~~~

”Jagiiiii, I am hungry :(!!!”

You smiled as you read your whiny boyfriend’s text message.  After such a long time, finally, he’ll be able to stay in again with you for the night.

For the last six months, Hanbin has been very busy with their group’s debut.  You’ve been together for a little over a year, and you are pretty happy about it.  You already know the consequences of dating an idol and you understand your boyfriend’s situation.  Despite his busy schedule, he would always make sure to make time for you and visits you every now and then.  With that, you’re satisfied and would never ask for more.

After you’ve responded that you’re going to prepare his favorite, you started grabbing ingredients from the fridge as you wait for the rice to cook.  You would like to make this night special and Hanbin should be more than satisfied once he tastes your prepared food.

While you are boiling some water, you began chopping the pork and the vegetables that you’ll put in to the soup.  You grabbed the kimchi from the fridge and put it on top of the kitchen counter.  You went back to the stove and began putting the ingredients in the boiling water, making sure that the soup won’t spill.  You began stirring while you drop the potatoes and meat on the pot.  You closed the lid and went to the kitchen counter to clean some of the mess that you have created while chopping and preparing.

Because of how focused and busy you are with your food preparations, you didn’t even notice the front door opening and your boyfriend coming in, dropping his bag on the floor.  He removed his shoes and coat and proceeded to the kitchen as soon as he smelled the enticing scent of what you are cooking.

Keep reading

Why no Ghost?? Some speculations....

Budget problems aside (imo wasted on one too many dragon shots but ok) having Ghost at Winterfell with Sansa would  perhaps create a few problems…narrative wise for D&D and the plots they love…

1. They apparently deleted a scene in which Jon tells Ghost to look out for Sansa. It would be extremely sweet but also kind of telling to have Sansa swagger around Winterfell with literally Jon’s “ghost” by her side. If they were trying to “tone down” on the Jonsa vibes and force make people “see” Jonerys then even a single Ghost(Jon)xSansa scene would nicely crap all over that plan. It’s already very telling to show Jon assaulting Ramsay like a mad wolf and snapping and snarling at LF as if he actually ‘were’ Ghost…

2. Arya couldn’t get within a mile of Sansa with her current attitude. Whether Arya is only pretending to threaten Sansa to trick LF or serious about it, Ghost would bite her on the arse if she came at Sansa with a dagger, casually bragging that she could cut her face off. If Nymeria did not follow the NoOne!Arya then Ghost would certainly not like her spewing threats and shit at the woman he was ordered to protect for his master. The entire Sansa-is-surrounded-by-enemies- now-that-Brienne-has-left plot element would not work (not that it makes particular sense to begin with) because Ghost would rip anyones throat out if they came near her (again, just like Jon himself)

3. Jon’s identity as King in the North is somehow tied to Ghost. When one of the Lord’s declared “He is the White Wolf. The King in the North.” that was Jon’s being accepted as a Stark, a “Wolf” and the leader of all the Northern Houses. Ghost symbolises this moment. He symbolises Jon’s “Starkness” (what made him ‘equal’ to all the other Starklings despite being a bastard) and also his being “snow” white, his being a bastard, which is also part of his identity. One reason why Ghost is absent — and even if not shown (bc budget for dragons), never even talked about – is that Jon is heading for a major identity crisis (all the living Starks are, but that’s another post) and the “loss” of Ghost that we viewers perceive is also somehow mirroring the loss of Jon’s identity as a Stark, a Snow, a Northerner and KitN. Ghost’s master is Jon Snow, the King in the North. Jon (or Aegon, if the rumours are true) Targaryen doesn’t have a direwolf, he probably has a pet dragon named Rhaegal…*rolls eyes* 

Guess we’ll see. But with all the dragon overload I just want one scene at least with this beautiful creature…

Journals

Description: Simon and Baz keep journals. 

Words: 1246

For @bloodredblossoms611 who prompted me to write this. (Thank you, it was so much fun to write).

Pining, and some angst. But a very happy ending. I hope everyone likes it! 

September 1st, 2008

T. Basilton Grimm Pitch

I’m only keeping this journal so I can tell my step mum I’m doing it, she thinks that it’ll help me work through my issues. Ha, issues, is that what we’re calling it now?

My roommate is an insufferable drag, the bloody chosen one. He doesn’t look like a chosen one, he doesn’t look like anyone would choose him. My father insists that it’s a good thing, that I have to keep an eye on the Mage’s heir, I don’t know how I’m going to survive.

September 1st, 2008

Simon

The mage thinks I should keep a journal, he thinks it’ll help me with my words. I don’t think I can be helped with my words.

I think my roommate is evil, he’s a Grimm-Pitch, and the Mage tells me that both those families are evil, so how can he not be? He stares at me a lot, he’s probably trying to figure out the neatest way to kill me. He’s a bloody clean-freak.

September 1st, 2009

Simon

I’m back at Watford, I can hardly believe it. I’d started to think that I made it up, that I would never have someplace to call home. I cried a lot, Baz came in and made fun of me. He’s such an arse, always acting like he’s the most important person in the room. Maybe the mage will let me switch this year.

September 1st, 2009

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I came into the room to find Snow crying, he’s such a pathetic excuse for a chosen one. He even invaded my summer, I couldn’t even bloody think of anything else. Simon Snow demands attention, he’s like an elephant stumbling around and destroying everything he touches.

September 1st, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I can’t believe I still keep a diary, like a bloody preteen girl. I only do it because Daphne somehow knows when I stop.  

Snow is unbearable, it’s just the first day of term and he hasn’t left me alone. Just stared at me, all day. He is no friend to subtlety, doesn’t even try to hide it, what kind of hero is he?

September 1st, 2012

Simon

Baz is up to something, even more so than usual, I’m going to find out what it is. I figure if I never leave him alone he can never do whatever it is that he does. I’m going to figure out what he’s plotting, the old families probably finally decided it was time to get rid of me. I get it now, why I have to be his roommate, I have to keep an eye one him.

October 12th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

Snow never leaves me alone, I can’t even get 15 minutes to shower without him thinking I’m setting up some elaborate trap. I wish I could bite him, turn him and finally make him feel like I do. Like a villain. My life is fucked up enough without Snow stalking me constantly.

October 20th, 2012

Simon

Baz goes into the catacombs constantly, I’m not sure what he’s doing down there but I doubt it’s something that’s good for me or the Mage or non-evil people in general. I found dead rats, but I don’t know what he’s doing with them. I spend all my time following him, Penny’s starting to get irritated.

December 18th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

We’re home for Christmas break, and I still feel like I’m going to round a corner and find Snow staring at me. Bloody Snow, I can never be rid of him. He’s probably at the Wellbelove’s, snogging Agatha and pretending to be a happy family. The thought bothers me, it scratches at my stomach. I shouldn’t care, though, Snow is just my stupid roommate. Not my friend, or-

December 19th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

It’s unbearably early, something I should not be saying on break when Snow’s not here to wake me up with his stumbling. But I had a dream, about Simon. He kissed me, and it was nice, and I didn’t want to bite him (well, not that way). God, this can’t be happening, Snow is unbearable. I hate Snow, more importantly, Snow hates me.

January 3rd, 2012.

T. Basilton Grimm-Place

As if my life wasn’t shit enough without adding ‘in love with his enemy’ to the mix. The term started today, and it’s much worse seeing him, having him be there. I don’t how to act normal, but I’m trying, Not like it matters, Snow will just assume that I’m plotting another way to make his life miserable.

January 3rd, 2012

Simon

Baz is acting strange, for once in his life he hasn’t taken every possible opportunity to make my life miserable. He’s just quiet, I caught him staring at me. Maybe he figures he can lull me into a false sense of security and then strike.

March 15th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I don’t know what I’m going to do. Snow won’t leave me alone for one second to try to sort out these feelings. Every time I see him (in class, or our room, or trailing me in the catacombs), I just want to kiss him or bite him. That’s when I’m at my worst, when he’s following me and we’re alone and it would just be so easy to end this, one way or another. I don’t think I’m going to survive.

October 28, 2015

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I feel tired, the Numpties took everything out of me, everything usually reserved for dealing with Snow. I can’t deny that it’s nice, that despite all the pain it causes me it’s nice to see him. He was what I held onto when I felt myself slipping away. He looks at me like I’m about to explode. Even now he keeps glancing up at me over his homework like I’m going to pounce on him (which, maybe I am).

October 28, 2015

Simon

Baz is back, I don’t know how to react. He looks hurt, who could have hurt him? Maybe it was some kind of rite of passage, maybe he’s finally ready to take me out. I should tell him about his mom, or I should look through his stuff to find out where he’s been. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

October 29th, 2015

Simon

I did it, went through his stuff I mean. And I found something, a diary. I read something, and I’m just not sure how to react. I don’t know what’s happening, I just don’t know how to feel about this.

October 29th, 2015

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

Snow is acting weird, even more than usual. I think he’s avoiding me, not looking me in the eye. And then he even smiled at me, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. But I sure a hell am not letting him suck me into whatever weird drama is going on in his life. I won’t let him do that to me, not now.

October 30th, 2015

Baz

Simon kissed me, he kissed me until my lips were numb, he kissed me all night. I kissed him, I kissed Simon Snow. Simon Snow kissed me, I feel like I’m dreaming, and maybe I am. He kissed me and I can’t even find it in myself to be angry that he went through my stuff.

Wow Baz, you really like to write about me.

Shut up, Snow, and stop reading my journal.

Diary*

I swear to God Snow.

Flood my Mornings: Climbing

Anon said: This is a prompt for Bonnie & FMM: since BabyBree is becoming quite the strong minded little lady, can we see her get into some antics at the worst possible time?

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

Fernacre, July, 1951 


JESUS, lass!” Jamie hissed as he lunged to snatch Bree mid-stride and prevent what would have been a flying leap off the picnic table. He forced himself to exhale before setting her onto her feet and asking, “Why in the name of all that is holy and right do ye turn demon the instant we go out in public?”

The demon giggled. 

“Brianna, hear me, it’s no’ a game, this.” He dropped to a crouch before her, trying to keep his already-worn temper in check. “I mean it. NO climbing up upon things, d’ye hear?” 

“Okayyyy!” she trilled, beaming with joy, already turning on her heel. 

“Wait just there, we’re not—” 

But she was already out of reach, scampering off to join a pack of other children headed toward the play-slides. 

“Stay within the yard!” he called after her. “Heaven BLOODY help me,” he groaned under his breath in Gaelic, getting back to his feet and his conversation. “I’m terribly sorry for that wee hooligan, Tom.” 

“It’s alright, bud,” Tom Harper laughed, handing him back his bottle of terrible American beer. “Kids will be kids, no harm done.”

“Perhaps it’s some great test of parenting, to see how well I cope wi’out Claire to hand….or how poorly, as the case might be.”

It was the annual Fernacre employee summer picnic, or as Bree saw it, a battlefield ripe for the carnage her impish soul apparently craved. Scarce an hour the two of them had been there, and she’d already knocked over a pitcher of Lemonade, bitten another child who had bumped into her, squirted tomato sauce all down her front, and managed to get a lollipop stuck in her hair. This was to say nothing of the tantrum on the car ride about not being able to see the clouds (it being a hot, blue day and there being no clouds), and several outbursts of language he was more than grateful Claire had not been present to overhear. Nine days out of ten, Bree’s heartbreaking sweetness outweighed the net destruction (though there was plenty of the latter in any given day, and no mistake); but there would be a full moon brewing in the sky this evening, certainly, for Brianna Fraser had come out IN FORCE. 

“Really, though, she’ll grow out of it,” Tom said with a veteran’s confidence. “Our Rob was just the same at that age. It’s your first kiddo’s job to put you through the wringer. It’s in their contract and everything!” His wink went suddenly sideways as both brows furrowed over his Sunglasses. “Speaking of which, Claire’s okay, I hope?” 

“Oh, aye, she’s well enough,” Jamie assured him, taking what restorative strength he could from the watery excuse for a draught. “The babe kept her up all through the night, and she didna think she could manage being out the heat, besides.” 

“Don’t blame her one bit.” He wiped sweat from his forehead before adding significantly, “Not long, now, huh?” 

“No,” he grinned back, “not long at all.” 


Earlier that morning

Will you absolutely hate me if I stay in bed today?”

“Of course not, mo nighean donn,” He tucked the covers more securely around her and then stood, looking around to see what he might bring her. 

“Would it be pressing my good luck to beg you to take the monster with you?”

He kissed her, then Ian. “…Which one?” 

“Oh, I’d happily give you BOTH, if I could!” She rubbed her now-still belly ruefully and winced a bit. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, little one, you have got to give Mummy a BREAK when she’s trying to sleep. We can’t keep having these midnight drill parades!”

A whinnying horse galloped into the room and catapulted herself onto the bed next to Claire. “Mum-ma, you comin’?”

“No, lovey,” Claire said, pulling Bree close into a great, warm hug. “Mummy’s going to stay here and take a nap.” 

“Nappin’ isna FUN!” 

“Oh, it’s LOADS of fun for me! But you and Daddy will go and have a lovely time at the picnic, just the two of you.”

Bree grumbled for a minute, then brightened. “Can’see iffee’s ‘wake? If Beeyin’s ‘wake?”

Claire smiled that warm, sweet smile he loved so well. She pulled up the hem of her nightshirt from under the blankets, patiently letting Bree inspect the whole expanse of her with exuberant pats. 

After a few moments, Bree glowered up and whispered in a confidential yell, “I dinna heer’im.”

“I don’t feel him ei—Oh! There he is!” 

Bree shrieked in delight, dissolving into insane giggles as she poked the heaving mass back to and fro. At such a degree of intensity, it was rather like the game Jamie had seen the Fair where you clubbed the stuffed groundhog with a mallet only to have another pop up on the other side. ‘Clubbed’ indeed, for Claire was obliged to grab Bree’s hands and croon, “Gently, Bree, baby, *gently*…” 

After a long, peaceful while, Claire happened to glance up and catch his expression. She was a canny one, his wife, and she gave him a gimlet eye at once. “And just what are you smirking at like a cat in the cream?”

In truth, he WAS grinning, so widely he must have looked positively deranged. “You. are. SO. BIG.”

“You ARSE,” she laughed, managing to land him a kick in the belly even through the blankets.

“Ye ARE! I mean, LOOK!” He came to sit on the edge of the bed and joined Bree in outlining just how massive she was. “Big as a—a—”

“A HOUSE!” Bree finished helpfully, “or A ‘POTTAMUS!” 

“I do hope wee Ian comes out a fair shade more polite and complimentary than YOU lot,” Claire said, splitting a glare between the pair of them. 

“And just think, you’ve *two weeks more,* forbye.”  

One and a half, thank you very much,” she corrected primly.

“But let’s just stop and consider.” He raised a significant brow. “Should wee Ian see fit to bide his time…

“Don’t EVEN suggest it.”

“….It could be THREE weeks more…” He was having trouble speaking normally through the bubbling laughter. “….or even FOUR, until—”

“You wish four more weeks upon me, Jamie Fraser, and I will make you wish otherwise.”

Bree turned her coat in a flash. “Don’ wisp that at Mum-ma, Da.” 

“Oh, verra well, if ye say so,” he said, mock-abashed, with a wink at his wife. Glancing at his watch, he groaned and straightened with a yawn. Claire’s tossing and turning in the night from Ian’s acrobatics hadn’t done him any favors, either.  “Alright, a leannan, let’s see to your clothes and get along to the picnic.”

“You really do delight in seeing me as huge as a beached whale, don’t you?” Claire asked sardonically as Bree scurried from the room, cheering.

“Aye, I do,” he admitted freely, wrapping both his arms around her and nuzzling his nose against hers. “Truly one of the happiest sights I’ve ever seen.” 

In the cave, he had many a time wondered—longingly—what Claire might look like at the time of her full term; and what he had imagined paled in comparison. She was full and lush in every single inch of her. Hair thick and glossy. Skin softly glowing like sunlight on a flower petal. Whisky eyes seeming to sparkle with the same light, heavy with a soft, sleepy happiness. Claire was absolutely exquisite in this height of her bearing, and he would happily spend all his days glorying in the memory of her, this way. 

“I never imagined…” He bent and laid a kiss on her straining navel, reflecting that spending a fair number of those days in good fun and laughter would *also* be greatly rewarding. “…that anyone could get even bigger wi’ child than JENNY.” 

“Bree!” Claire shouted, swatting him with a pillow as he lunged up to kiss her cheeks and neck ferociously, “tell your Da to take his imagination and shove it up his—”

A crash sounded from the other room, followed by a ‘whoops-eeee’, which, in retrospect, had not boded well for the rest of the day


“MISTER FRASER!!!” 

His head whipped around so fast he heard his neck crack.

She was on the top rung of the fence separating the yard from the adjacent pasture, and he felt his heart stop as she fell from it headfirst. 

The next moments as he sprinted toward her seemed to pass as slowly as in a dream. He could hear shouts and cries behind him, but he didn’t stop for an instant until he was vaulting over the fence and snatching her up off her back. He didn’t remember what words he may have uttered, or in what language, but a few moments later, he was exhaling in great gasps of relief seeing that she was conscious and not injured, just badly scared with the breath knocked out of her. 

Dazed, she began to cry with great long wails that drove away the two mares that had come to investigate the visitor to their pasture. Thank the Lord she hadn’t chosen the next paddock over, where the true brawlers were kept. 

“You’re alright?” he demanded once more as he got back to the right side of the fence, vaguely aware he was speaking in Gaelic. “You’re not hurt?” 

She coughed and gasped for breath, considered, then showed him, lips trembling, a slightly-red patch on the fleshy part of her palm.

He laid a fervent kiss in her hand—silently praising heaven she hadn’t broken the wrist, for all that she was still crying like a banshee—and then could contain himself no longer. 

“What did I say about climbing?” His teeth were gritted tight and his hands were shaking even as they strove to remain gentle. “AND about wandering off??”

“I din’knowww,” she wailed, hearing his tone and trying to hide her face in his chest. 

“Ye DO know.” He pulled her up and made her look at him. “Brianna Ellen, ye must listen to what I say! Don’t ye understand ye could have gotten very badly hurt? Lass, look at me.”

She was sobbing, now, working herself up into hysterics. “C—can—na—

“Why not?”

“Cause—mad—dit—m—meee—

He went completely still at that. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, deep breath. 

Help me, Da. 

With gestures and apologetic looks, he shooed the well-meaning onlookers back to their picnic and made for the big oak tree in the opposite corner of the yard. It was well-shaded, and he sat down against the trunk, holding his daughter to his chest as she sobbed against his shoulder. 

Thank God she wasn’t hurt. Thank GOD. 

“Bree, cub?” The walk had calmed him, and he was glad to hear his voice was gentle and soft. “Look at me, aye?” 

After a moment, she glanced timidly up (face red as an apple and covered in liquids of all description) and he smiled at her, stroking her cheek and her hair. “I’m here, a leannan. It’s just me…just Da… I love you.” 

“Love—” she hiccuped through her tears, “—too.” 

He kissed her and held her close for a minute before setting her on his legs facing him and saying gravely, “But ye made me verra afraid today, a chuisle. Ye disobeyed and could have hurt yourself.” 

“I did’nint mean to,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Aye, I ken ye didna mean to get hurt,” he said, gently pulling her fists away from her face, “but ye meant to be climbing the fence, even after I told ye not.” 

“…It was fun, though,” she offered with a shrug, voice tremulously defiant.

“Aye, well…” 

Come on, Da…. How would ye have explained this to me?  

A shrill whinny sounded in the distance, then another, and Jamie glanced around to see the two sorrel foals playing together in the south pasture, teasing and prancing about one another.  

He smiled and felt peace whispering through the grasses. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away. 

“Ye ken, when wee Ian is born, Bree, he’s going to grow up fast. Before long, he’ll be as big as you and running about on his own! And you’ll want your wee brother to be safe, aye?” 

She straightened at that, no longer crying. Bairn safety was no small matter, in her book. She nodded. 

“Say there were something like a great, nasty snake crawling about in the grass about to bite your brother on the foot…..Would ye just stand by and let him be hurt?”

Brianna looked up at him in absolute affront. “NO, I’d kill dat snake!”

He very nearly choked, but managed to keep a moderately straight face. Call upon a Fraser, and a Fraser ye shall get, he supposed;  but he cleared his throat and plunged on, determined to make his point. “But what if wee Ian didna understand the beast was dangerous? What if he went running to the snake because he thought it would be fun to play wi’ it?”

“Well…I jus’tell him not.”

“Aye, just so,” he said, “because we have to protect the people we love, d’ye see?” 

“Uh-huh.” She was staring up at him, rapt but not quite understanding. 

“So when I tell ye not to do things like climb the fence, mo chridhe, it’s only to keep ye safe, to keep ye getting hurt because I love you so. And when the bairn comes, it’ll be your job to keep him safe, too.”

She nodded emphatically. “I’ll do him safe, Da, promise.”

“But that means ye have to keep yourself safe, as well. Elder sisters have to be the best at obeying Mam and Da so the smaller bairns ken what’s the right way of things. Can ye do that?” 

“Aye,” she said at once. “I’ll ‘bey.” 

For precisely sixty seconds out of every hour, he predicted. 

“Hear me, though, Bree: the next time ye disobey like ye did today, I shall have to strap ye. I dinna want to do it, not one bit, but it’s how you’ll learn. Are we understood?

“….What’s s-tuh-rap?” 

“Getting smacked hard on the bottom wi’ a belt.” 

Hard?” she clarified, shocked. 

“Aye, hard enough that it hurts.” 

“But ye said—” She scrunched up her face and gestured with both hands. “NOT do things to KEEP me of getting hurted….”

A Dhia, Da, he laughed silently, how by all the saints did ye raise three—

“JAMIE!!”

His head snapped up and he saw Marian rushing down from the house, beckoning wildly, with a look of—

“Da—ddy—” Bree gasped out from where she bounced against his shoulder. “Why we runnin’?”

His heart was pounding.

“Because your brother has decided he’s going to arrive early.”  

Light of All Lights - A Fairy Tale in Five Parts (1/5)

Notes: This fic would not nearly be what it is without @caprelloidea​‘s handholding, encouragement and keen eye. She’s the best, I think you all agree. Based on a picset posted by @bleebug, encouraged by @its-imperator-furiosa​‘s enthusiasm for the idea, and written with @queen-mabs-revenge​ in mind. There is nothing explicitly dominate/submissive about this, but there are borrowed elements of that dynamic.

Summary: When his ship crashes onto a secluded island after a storm Killian “Deckhand Hook” Jones finds himself the unlikely companion to the dark “goddess” who inhabits it. A fairy tale in three parts. 

Rating: Explicit for whoa smut in the later chapters. Some mild violence.

Word Count: 15K+

ON AO3

______

Thunder cracked in the sky above, the entire ship tremoring and shuddering with the force, and not a blink later purple silver lighting flared brilliant white in the crew quarters. The storm was upon them.

Starkey crowed as Hook threw up an arm, his hammock swinging violently, almost pitching him to the deck, the flinch happening before he could check himself.

“Oh no not the raaain,” came a high pitched mocking voice from somewhere in the black darkness of the cabin. Probably Evans. Loud raucous laughter followed, but Hook ignored it, their mocking jeers the least of his concerns as the thunder boomed again, the ship pitching with the force of another wave.

Hook squeezed his eyes tighter, his hand clenched at his side to still the shaking.

It wasn’t that he was scared of storms persay, but bumpy seas always meant no lanterns could be lit, all fires must be extinguished, and the crew quarters were pitch black save for the flashing lighting in the portholes. It wasn’t that he was scared of the dark either, but he definitely preferred the light. He was also quite sure they were all going to die, and like most things in his life, he was terribly afraid of death.

“‘Maybe ‘e’s worried ‘is hook will rust,” came another voice. “Then how’ll he lay about scratching his arse the useless twat?” The laughs came again, the pounding rain at least drowning them out a tad. Thunder cracked once more, and in unison the men all shrieked in mock terror.

“Not me hair!” Came a cry.

“B-b-b-bloody hell,” came another. They laughed again. It was an old game, the same old insults, the same mocking jeers.

Hook continued to ignore them, a decade and then some of practice helping him along, focusing on his breath, on maintaining his place in the swinging hammock as the ship rocked and swayed beneath him. If he fell on his face in front of them again, it would only make it worse.

Keep reading

BOFUR TATTOOS (11/14)

You know Bofur, right? In human years he must be a 30/40 years old something, he’s cheerful, happy, the life of the party. And I would lie to you if I told you he was any different in his youth. Being in a miners family he started to use a pickaxe before he knew how to walk properly. He passed his youth surrounded by older miners who looked over him like the little “mine mascot”. It was the day he came of age that he and a handful of his coworkers reached the nearest men’s city to sneak in a pub and have a proper party, away from his parents watchful gaze. There they met a group of hobbits, the first Bofur ever met. All together they, of course, got drunk in no time, dancing on the tables, ruining the pub and gaining a kick in the arse out of the front door. Bofur remembered very little of the rest of his first crazy night, what he remembered was how he woke up past afternoon of the next day with a huge tattoo all across his chest. They were phrases, nay, they were lyrics of a song. But not a dwarven song, more likely a hobbit’s one. A song about a inn, a man and…the moon?

Please do not edit or repost.

Keep reading

Prompt: “You’re such a bitch.”/”Don’t be fucking rude.”

You didn’t want to go to the party. You knew she would be there. You couldn’t stand her. Kendall, in your eyes, was satan. She was rude, fake, spoiled, stuck up and everything else. But no one seamed to know this but you. You had had multiple run ins with her since you and Harry started dating. She never had anything nice to say to or about you. Calling you ugly and saying you weren’t good enough for Harry and how Harry would find his way back to her, he always did. And each and every time you thought Harry would catch her in the act, she smiled and laughed, as if you were having a great conversation the whole time, as soon as he came back with a drink for you. And each and every time you wanted to slap him and make him realize that his ex, was indeed, a bitch. But harry being Harry, he always wanted to see the best in people. You didn’t know if Harry knew that she was so mean, or if he knew and chose to ignore it. Either way, as you stood in front of the mirror, sliding on your red dress, you knew just how your encounter with Kendall would go. You tried not to let her dampen your mood, though. Luckily Harry was able to take your mind off it, pressing kisses to your neck the car ride there. And you spent a good 30 minutes at the party without any sign of Kendall. But as soon as Harry left your side to get you a drink, the she-devil herself walked up to you. 

“(y/n)! Lovely to see you here.” she said looking you up and down, clearly judging you. “Where’d you get the dress, the dumpster?”

“At least I don’t have to leave the house half naked to get peoples attention.”

“Hey now, lets not be harsh. Wheres Harry? Off finding someone better I suppose?”

“Harry loves me.”

“Sure, and the Pope isn’t Catholic. Why can’t you see that you’re just Harrys little charity case. He’ll get sick of you eventually, and when he does, he’ll come running back to me. He always does. Its just a matter of time.” she said to you harshly. And just like that Harry came back,

“Heres your drink, my love.” he said and kissed your temple. You gladly took the drink from him and took a much needed sip.

“Kendall, nice to see you.” Harry said hugging her and kissing her cheek. It made you cringe. Not because Harry was hugging his ex, but if he only knew what a bitch she was…

Harry and Kendall made light conversation, before Harry quickly turned to say hello to someone else. 

“Its going to happen eventually. And when it does, I’ll be sure to say ‘told you so’” Kendall said to you. 

“God, you’re such a bitch!” you yelled, and sure enough, the small room with the small amount of people got quiet. Harry turned around, appalled. 

“(y/n)…whats gotten into you?” Harry questioned. He looked between you and Kendall. Of course she was acting all innocent and as if she didn’t spend the last 10 minutes insulting me. 

“I didn’t say anything to her Harry I swear. I was just telling her I hope she doesn’t get lonely while you’re on tour.”

“I’m so sorry Kendall. I think we should go.” Harry said sternly, grabbing your arm and leading you to the door.  The car ride home was completely silent, you were on the verge of tears the whole time. As soon as the front door closed, Harry started.

“What the bloody hell was that? Why would you call her a bitch? She’s been nothing but nice to you from the moment she’s met you. I don’t understand.”

“But Harry that’s the thing. She’s so rude to me. While you were off getting me a drink, she spent the whole time insulting me. She was saying I got my dress from the trash and how you don’t love me. She said you’d get tired of me and you’ll come crawling back to her- you always do.” 

“I know Kendall, and that doesn’t sound like her. She’s a sweet girl. If you don’t want me hanging around her, I’d rather you just say so, rather than trying to make her look bad.” he yelled. 

“So you’re going to believe her over me? Harry I’ve never lied to you. I wouldn’t lie about this. Her goal every time she sees me is to make me feel like shit when you aren’t around. Then when you come back, she acts like nothing ever happened.”

“I’m not going to listen to this. When you decide to be mature, I’ll be upstairs.” he said, and left you standing in the foyer, starting to believe everything Kendall was saying to you.

All you could do was cry. You shouldn’t have been feeling sorry for yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You picked up your phone to try and take your mind off it. As soon as you opened Twitter, hundreds of tweets blew up your phone. Deciding to see what the fuss was about, you clicked on a video taken of you and Kendall from that night. As is played, everything Kendall said to you was caught on camera. Everything. As it turns out, a fan snuck into the party and caught the whole interaction on camera as she sat at the bar. Many people in the comments were coming to your defense, as it was a known fact that you did not like Kendall. Just then you got a tweet from Harry. It said: “Don’t be fucking rude, @ kendalljenner. All the love. Hx.” 

Harry came racing down the stairs seconds later. “Oh my God, baby I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I’m such an arse.”

“Yea. Yea you are.” you said hitting his chest hard.

“Ok I deserved that. Babe I’m so sorry, I should’ve believed you. I had no idea she was so mean. Now I see why you don’t like her. And everything she’s ever said to you - please please don’t believe it. She’s just bitter she’s not as smart, kind, funny and beautiful inside and out as you are. You’re not a charity case and I love you very much. Don’t you forget that.”

“Don’t worry I know its not true. Also, you never tweet about anything personal, let alone directly at someone. What made you do it this time?”

“I cant let her get away with being rude to you. I’ve fucked up royally, and I want the public to know that I may be kind but I’ll never let someone walk all over the people I love. I don’t give a damn who the hell they are.” 

You laughed and he kissed your cheek, secure in knowing that Harry would always be there for you and have your back, no matter what. 

Freaking Out

Requested by: @decaffeinated-student-cheesecake

Note: The requester wanted a drabble with promps  54, 97, and 103, and a ship as well. I figured to combine the two into a big one shot :)

Setting: Marauders Era AU where Voldemort didn’t cause a wizarding war.


“Y/N, you haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?” Lily asked you.

You haven’t touched your breakfast. You picked your food with your fork but you don’t have the appetite. You both were sitting at the breakfast table you co-own in your shared apartment.

“Y/N?” Lily placed her fork down and turned to you. You looked at Lily, trying to look fine.

“I’m fine, Lily.” You gave her a smile.

“Y/n-“ You stood up from your chair and made your way to the door.

“I’m going to ahead to St. Mungos. They need me to be early. I’ll see you later.” You told her as you wrapped a scarf around you neck and put your jacket on.

Lily noticed you hurriedly left your shared apartment. After years of being friends in Hogwarts and now that you are roommates in your shared apartment, she knows if you are hiding something.


You hurriedly made you way to St. Mungos. It is true that they needed you to be early today but for a different reason. You made your way to your healer’s room for your check up. You turned the door knob to see your healer, Madam Rye.

“Miss L/N, just in time.” Madam Rye greeted her with a smile. You made your way to the hospital bed and sat there. You looked around the room, entertaining yourself as you wait for your healer to proceed. The room had white clean walls with one window, not quite inviting.

“This won’t take too long and I already talked to your supervisor healer if you end up being late for your rounds this morning.” She continued as she prepared a series of potions for your clinical tests.

You allowed Madam Rye to conduct your clinical tests.

“I’ll be right back with your results from today’s exams and from the other day in a few minutes.” She left and took your samples to the laboratory room.

You stared to the window and patiently waited for your results. Through the window, you see a cloudy and gloomy day in London in view, something you haven’t seen in a while. You had spent most of your days training to be a healer and tending to the sick here in St. Mungos with Lily Evans. You both decided to become healers right after Hogwarts and now here you are, three years later, avoiding your best friend. Your heart hammered in your chest. Palms sweated. Breath hitched. It’s as if you were back in Hogwarts waiting for your N.E.W.T.S results.

“I can’t take one more second of this.” You told yourself as you fidget on your seat.

The door opened behind you and as soon you turned you saw Madam Rye came in with your results. She walked back to her desk and sat in front of you.

“Miss L/N, I have your results.” She said.


Three weeks have passed since you heard your results. You fixed yourself up and checked yourself on the mirror. You opened your purse to grab your lipstick and retouched your soft lips with your favorite shade. You looked up to see yourself one last time and left the washroom. You just threw up your entire dinner. Just side effects of being pregnant. You get nauseated by smelling or eating your favorite foods but that’s the least of your problems. You made your way back to your table at the little restaurant you always go to with Sirius, your boyfriend. You see him passing paying the bill before you got back to the table. Sirius stood up from his seat and grabbed his jacket.

“Shall we go?” he asked and you nodded.

Sirius guided you with his hand behind your lower back as you both went out of your favorite restaurant. Sirius looked up and smelled the cold London air.

“Ahh.” He breathed out.

“It’s such a beautiful night.” He continued as he looked up the sky. He looked at you and see you starring down the pavement. He stopped you for a moment, lifted your chin up so that you could see his concerned grey eyes.

“Is everything alright, love?” he asked.

At this very moment, you wanted to lie to the man you loved and say everything is ok but you knew you should tell him sooner.

“I-I I have to tell you something.” You cupped his face.

“Please don’t freak out.” You looked into his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t freak out. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“What is it, Love? You’re making me nervous.” He chuckled nervously. You opened your eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Sirius’s face went pale. He let go of you and slowly backed away.

“Sirius?”

“I-I” He said and left.

Your heart sank. Life drained out from your body. This was what you were afraid of.

You trudged your way into the apartment. On the corner of eye, you see Lily reading a book on an arm chair in a lamp lit room. Lily looked up from her book.

“How was dinner with Pads?” she asked. You leaned yourself to the door behind you, stared blankly at nothing.

“I’m pregnant, Lily.” You stated. Lily, with her mouth open, sat up from the arm chair and discarded her book to the side.

“I told him tonight.” You looked at your dear friend as tears fell from your tearful eyes. Lily got up and walked towards you. She held your arm trying to comfort you.

“He didn’t say anything. He just left.” You broke down on her shoulders and held her tightly as if you were afraid of her leaving as well.


You’ve calmed down, holding a cup of warm tea that Lily brewed on your hand. You stared at the steam floating away from the cup. Lily sat in front of you at the table, concerned about you.

“What’s the plan?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know.” You continued to watch the steam. Lily leaned back and shook her head, locking her jaw slightly.

“This isn’t fair.” She said. She looked at you. You looked at her.

“It. Is. Not. Fair.” She emphasized. “How can he just leave you alone like this?! How can he just treat you this way?!”

Lily held your hand and looked at you straight in the eye. “I can’t just let this slip away. I won’t let him treat you like this. If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass!

Knock. Knock.

You both turned to the door when you heard knocking. Lily stood up and went to get the door. She opened the door, allowing Sirius to come in. Lily slammed the door shut when he came in. You stood from your chair and faced him.

“What are you doing here?” she said in a low voice. He turned to her.

“I need to talk to Y/N.” he said.

“Now you want to talk to her?”

“Lily, please stay out of this.” He pleaded.

Lily snapped.

You got her pregnant?! And what?! You left her! What were you thinking?!” she screamed at him.

“Lily, please.” You tried to calm her down.

“You can’t just treat Y/N like this! Oh Godrick-”

“I know.” Sirius cut her off.

“I know I was a bloody arse. I left her standing alone in the street. I know I left her without saying anything. I was a complete arse. I don’t deserve, Y/N.” He looked at you and walked towards you. He held your hands and looked deep into your eyes.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I did all those awful things. I’m sorry I panicked. I just don’t know what to do when you told me. I wish I could have reacted better. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much. I want to raise our baby together. I’m ready to step up and be the father of our child.”

“Oh Sirius.” You embraced each other and he kissed your forehead.

“I love you both so much. I don’t want to lose you two ever again.”

Request where one of the saviour's gets handsy with the reader and when she beats the hell out of the savior negan takes a liking to her

Originally posted by hughxjackman

ooooo, the promo for the new season has me wet x

Keep reading

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty; Chap. 1

summary: 
“if you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one.
and if you wanna make it through the night, you better say my name like
the good, the bad, and the dirty.”

or alternatively, a high school au in which dan and phil used to be best friends and are now enemies that hate each other’s guts until it becomes something a little more complicated than they thought.

genre: angst, smut, some fluff

warnings: graphic fighting scenes, a few mentions of blood, friends with benefits, eventual smut and acts will be specified per chapter, enemies to friends with benefits to lovers, e x c r u t i a t i n g l y  slow burn

word count in this chapter: 2444

read on ao3!!!

a/n: not going to lie, i’m very excited for this fic and feedback on whether you guys like it too is much appreciated it <3 this is something that has been an idea for a very long time and i thought it was time to write it and see what you guys think! i’m going to try and upload this every thursday. like i said, feedback is appreciated!!! hope you enjoy :))))) <3333

Keep reading

Jegulus - Detention

I wrote this for @dying-for-jegulus.  It’s the first Jegulus story I’ve ever written, and so I’m reeeeeally hoping that you like it.

Regulus walked through the cold sixth floor corridors, shivering slightly into his robes.  He walked cautiously, jumping at the slightest sound echoing off the walls. If Peeves was to find him roaming the corridors this late at night…. 

He heard another sound and pressed himself against the wall, attempting to blend into the shadows but his pale skin made it very difficult.  Footsteps were approaching.  They were only just around the corner now, and he could see the shadow of someone. Please let it be him, please let it be him, he thought desperately, unable to peel his eyes away from the shadow.

When the person behind the shadow turned the corner, Regulus felt himself sigh with relief.  Just the person he wanted to be caught by.  He couldn’t help smiling slightly as he shifted away from the wall and walked away from the head boy, pretending he hadn’t noticed him.

“Hey!  Stop right there!” James called, his voice sounding very stern and head-boyish.  Just how Regulus liked it.  Regulus stopped in his tracks, not turning around.  He tried not to smile - he didn’t want to spoil it, he always spoiled it with his betraying smile.

James walked around him and stopped right in front of him.  His stare was smouldering, and Reg very suddenly didn’t feel cold anymore.

“Stop smiling,” James murmured.

Regulus force the smile off his face.  “Have I done something wrong?”

“It’s a bit late at night for you to be wandering around the corridors, isn’t it Black?” James said slowly, not taking his eyes off Reg.

“I didn’t realise the time, Potter.  I should get going back to my dormitory,” Regulus replied, taking a step back.  James reached out and gripped Reg’s arm, pulling him closer so that they were only inches apart.  Regulus could already feel James’s intoxicating breaths on his face.  Maybe he could spoil it again, and just lean up to kiss him…

“You do realise that you broke the rules, don’t you?” James breathed, tightening his grip around Reg’s arm.

“Oh, did I?” Reg answered, blinking his eyes with false innocence.  “I’m very sorry.”

“Sorry just won’t do it,” James said.  “I have no choice but to put you in detention.  Teach you a lesson.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re not supposed to smile, Reg,” James murmured again, smiling slightly himself at Reg’s inability to keep a straight face.

“Sorry,” Reg replied, clearing his throat professionally and getting back into character.  “Oh, detention,” he said quietly.  “But I’m a good student.”

“You’re a very bad student,” James said.  “Time to punish you.”

James smirked at Regulus and pulled him into the nearest classroom, closing the door behind them.

“What are you going to do to me?” Regulus asked.

James smirked once more and pushed Reg up against the wall, pinning his hands above his head.

“Wait,” Reg whispered.  “Don’t forget your invisibility cloak.”

James nodded quickly and pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag, covering them both.  They used it as a precaution.  Not that anyone ever ventured into empty classrooms on the sixth floor corridor at eleven o’clock at night anyway.

“Happy now?” James asked softly, pressing a kiss to Reg’s forehead.

“Mmhm,” Reg mumbled.  “Yeah.  Now continue.”

“So demanding.”

“James, pin me against this wall and kiss me like this is the last time you will ever see me.”

James let out a low growl and grabbed both of Reg’s arms, pinning them high above his head.  Before Reg even had the chance to say anything else, James’s lips crashed against his own, kissing him fiercely.  Regulus closed his eyes, getting lost in all things James.

He loved this boy with all of his heart.  He loved stolen moments like this.  He loved feeling exhilarated, and when he was with James, he was always exhilarated. 

James let go of Reg’s arms and wrapped his arms around him as he deepened the kiss.  Reg ran his hands through James’s hair, which was messy enough without Reg messing it up some more.  But nevertheless, he loved messing up the Gryffindor’s hair.

James stopped the kiss to regain his breath, and then began trailing kisses down Reg’s jaw and his neck.

“James,” Reg breathed softly into James’s hair.  “I love you.”

He could feel James smiling against him.  “I love you too, Reg,” he murmured.


An hour later and they were both very exhausted and very naked.  They lay together on the floor of the classroom with the invisibility cloak over themselves.

The door opened abruptly, and instinctively Reg pressed himself closer to James.  Oh god, he thought.  This is the time we’re going to get caught.

“Shhhhhh,” he heard someone say, followed by a giggle.

“JAMES POTTER!”

Regulus could recognise that voice anywhere - it was none other than his brother’s voice.  Crap, he thought.

“I know you’re under that invisibility cloak, Prongs.  Your arse is hanging out, and actually it’s not half bad.”

There was a sound of someone getting whacked.  “Sorry Moony.”

“James, who are you naked under there with?  Better be someone good because we planned to use this classroom ourselves!” Sirius continued, receiving what sounded like another whack.

“Shut up, Sirius,” came Remus’s voice.

James shrugged at Reg under the cloak and gave him a ‘shall we just reveal ourselves?’ look.

Regulus was terrified, but at the same time he nodded.

James slowly pulled the cloak off, revealing only their heads and shoulders for Sirius and Remus to see.

“Hey Sirius,” Reg said, trying hard not to laugh at his brother’s expression.  He looked a mixture of shocked, disgusted and embarrassed.

“Nope.  NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE.” Sirius said.

“What was that you were saying about my arse being not half bad?” Regulus teased.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE JAMES!  I DIDN’T REALISE.  I JUST - I’M GOING NOW.  COME ON REMUS.”

Sirius dragged Remus from the room spluttering all sorts of nonsense.  Regulus could hear his name being mentioned and James’s name being mentioned.

James pressed his lips to Reg’s forehead again.  “Well, at least they know now.”

“Yeah.  But I still like this detention thing.  We should do it again.”

“I’m on patrol next Wednesday.”

“I’ll try to misbehave.”

“Mmm,” James murmured.  “You do that.”

Drunk and Disorderly - Imagine

*Y/N’s POV*

It was well after 2am by the time I gave up waiting, shuffling to the bedroom with a defeated sigh, leaving a couple of hall lights on behind me should he arrive home after I’d fallen asleep.

Harry had been out with his friends since 6.30pm, dinner and a few drinks he told me, “Nothing major sweetheart, I’ll be home by 12”.

“12 my arse” I grumbled as I crawled in to bed, shuffling under the duvet and into the cool sheets. I had waited up for him like he asked, but as 12 came and went, and my phone remained void of messages, I gave up. It was unusual of Harry to stay out later than intended and not let me know, and to say his lack of contact had me worried was an understatement.

I settled in to bed, lying flat on my back with my hands resting on my chest and my eyes gazing up at the ceiling, the exhaustion threatening to pull them closed but my concern repeatedly pulling them back open. As 3am drifted past, I finally slipped into an uneasy sleep.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I was ripped from my dreams by a loud banging on the front door, but I was faintly aware of a thin band of pale light creeping in between the curtains. A second series of aggressive knocks rattled the front door. I quickly flung myself from the bed and pulled a jumper over my body, dashing down the stairs in my pyjama trousers and socks. As I unlatched the front door, I assumed I would pull it back to find Harry, having lost his keys or too drunk to get them in the lock I wasn’t sure, but I knew it would be him. I was prepared to be relieved to have him in front of me, I was also prepared for the anger that would inevitably follow as he slurred out an excuse for returning during the early hours of the morning. But as I opened the door, everything I expected was replaced with one thing:

Shock.

Stood before me, silhouetted by the crisp light of the early morning, were two police officers. The two men took no notice of my appearance as one offered me a soft smile.

“Miss Y/L/N?” he asked. By this point, I was too stunned to answer. Every possible reason as to why I was being faced with two police officers at 5 o’clock in the morning flashed through my brain in what must have been no longer than a second, and all of them ended with Harry, arrested, injured or worse. I’ve seen the programmes, the cop dramas and movies, and no good ever comes from having a policeman stood on your doorstep without good reason.

My inner turmoil must have been present on my face as the taller officer, a slender man with a thin beard and moustache, spoke again without waiting for my reply to his earlier question.

“No need to panic love, I can tell what you’re thinking and it’s not that” he said, his words lifting a weight off my heart. But still my brows furrowed in confusion.

“Is everything ok?” I asked.

“Well we are here on behalf of your boyfriend, Mr Styles, yes?” he asked and I nodded.

“Got ‘imself into a bit of trouble last night” the other officer said. He was shorter than his colleague and rounder, his hand stuffed into the front of his vest to brace him against the chill of the morning air.

“What happened? Is he ok?” I rushed.

“He’s fine. He was arrested last night for being drunk and disorderly. Kept him in the cells over night to sober him up. We’ve been sent to request that you come and collect him, there are a few forms that need to be filled out on his behalf” he explained. I was stunned silent. Harry, drunk and disorderly? It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t sit well in my stomach. I was well aware of the fact that Harry, like perhaps anyone else, was more than susceptible to the effects of alcohol, and on more than one occasion I had to pull him away from a fight on a night out, but for Harry to follow through on what I had always assumed were idle threats surprised me.

“Oh, oh right. Um, ok, just let me get dressed and I’ll follow you there in my car?” I suggested.

“Sounds good. We’ll just wait for you in our car, head out when you’re ready” the shorter officer spoke once again before they both turned away and returned to their car which was parked on the road just outside. I shut the door quickly and rushed upstairs, not bothering to change the jumper I had thrown on, but instead opting to switch my flannel pyjama bottoms for a pair of jeans. I stuffed my feet in to a pair of trainers as I grabbed my phone and keys before dashing out the front door again, locking it firmly behind me.

The officers drove slower than was probably necessary as I followed them across town to the local station, making a point to hold back after each junction to make sure that I was behind them. I pulled my car up beside them as we reached the station car park and followed them inside like they said.

“We’ve got Miss Y/L/N ‘ere Sir” the tall officer said, who I learned was called Tom as we hurried across the frozen ground of the car park and in to the welcome head of the station reception.

“Ah yes, thank you Sargent, I’ll deal with it from here”. Both officers gave me a small tip of the hat as they disappeared down one of the many corridors that branched off from the desk I was stood before.

“Not what you were expecting this morning ay Miss?” the man behind the desk said as he collected some papers from beside him and placing them in front of me along with a pen.

“Em no, not exactly” I said with by best attempt at a chuckle.

“No need to worry, just need you to fill out a couple of things and then your boyfriend will be released without charge, no harm done. Well maybe not for him, I imagine he’ll be getting a bit of an ear bashing from you on the way home, am I right?” he said with a smile.

“You got that right” I snorted as I began filling in the required details on the papers in front of me.

“I’d say he’s got the worst yet to come” he continued and once again I nodded, he had no idea. The paperwork was long and extensive, giving me more than enough time to decide whether I was angry, or relieved that nothing serious had happened to him. It didn’t take me long to decide that I was angry, furious in fact. For Harry, things like these become global news ‘Harry Styles arrested for being drunk and disorderly’, ‘Harry Styles spends night in a cell following arrest’, ‘Harry Styles: global superstar or drunken thug?’. His worldwide influence was growing day by day, his album was number 1 across the world, he himself is number 1 on 2 Billboard charts, and he was marking that achievement, by getting himself arrested. Way to go Harry.

“Done” the man behind the desk said as I signed the last page. “I’ll just head along and get ‘im” he said, before removing himself from his chair and disappearing, the large bunch of keys strapped to his waist jingling as he went. It was only moments before he returned, a tired and rather apprehensive Harry in his wake.

“Good luck Son” the man called as I turned to leave the building, Harry shuffling along behind me. It was silent, neither of us spoke as we hurried across the car park to escape the chill of the morning air. The smell of stale alcohol drifted from him as he slipped into the passenger seat beside me, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap as I pulled out of the station and began the journey home.

“Sorry” Harry mumbled after several more minutes of thick, tense silence. I snapped.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Drunk and disorderly Harry are you kidding me?! What happened?!” I shouted, the anger in my voice resonating throughout the small confines of my car. Part of me wanted to calm down, to let him explain and to listen to what reasonable excuse he had for behaving in such an uncharacteristic way. But the anger at his carelessness was consuming me, so I pushed the reasonable thoughts aside and continued speaking before he had the chance to reply.

“Do you have any idea what the media are going to make of this?! How could you be so stupid Harry?!”

“Y/N please, let me explain” he signed gently, looking at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. I waved my hand in the air to encourage him to continue.

“I don’t even know what happened, I wasn’t that drunk,” I snorted but he pushed on, “I wasn’t I promise! We were having a couple of drinks after dinner, just like I said and then this guy recognised me, said I was ‘That guy who was in that band’. He knew you though, kept going on about how I had such a ‘pretty girl’ and all this shit. He was off his face Y/N, literally blind drunk, I was surprised he was still on his feet. But he kept going on and on about you, said he’d seen you picture in the papers or something, and he was saying some disgusting things. Kept saying I should share you out, give him and turn for the night, said I could watch if it made me feel better” Harry cringed and I supressed a shudder, the anger dissolving from my body with each word he spoke.

“I lost it after that, I don’t even remember what happened. I must have followed him in to the street or something and attacked him cause the next thing I knew I was pinned to the ground by two police officers and the guy was being lifted into an ambulance. Someone said that they’d seen me follow the guy out of the bar so they arrested me for being drunk and disorderly and took me to the station. I’m sure you know the rest” Harry said with another gentle sigh. I pulled the car up outside the house and killed the engine.

“But they released you without charge, no assault conviction, nothing” I frowned.

“Yeah, a couple of people in the bar heard what was being said, told the police everything and they let me go”.

“I was so worried Harry” I whispered, turning in my seat to face him as he did the same. He sighed and reached over to brush his hand against my cheek, running his thumb along the puffy skin beneath my eyes which had developed from lack of sleep.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I asked if I could call you but they wouldn’t let me until everything had got sorted out” he said gently, his fingertips brushing down my neck and pushing my hair back behind my shoulder.

“You don’t ever have to do that because some creep is saying something about me you know?” I said and he nods his head gently.

“You didn’t hear what he was saying Y/N, it was so,” I hushed him.

“Harry what people say doesn’t matter, what he was saying would never have happened, you and I both know that. Don’t get yourself into trouble just to protect me” I said gently.

“I’d do anything to protect you, sweetheart” he said, his voice holding the most conviction it had since I picked him up.

“I know” I said, leaning across the centre console to press my lips lightly against his. Neither of us tried to deepen the kiss, simply let the comforting warmth of his lips against mine sooth the stress of the night.

“Come on curly,” I said, pulling away just far enough to speak, my lips brushing gently against his, “let’s get you inside and in the shower, you stink of alcohol” I said with a giggle, pulling away completely and reaching for the door handle.

“Fine,” he sighed as I opened the door and stepped out, “but you’re getting in with me” he added as I shut the car door, a small smile spreading across my lips as his words ignited a warmth in my stomach.  

Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 4

At noon, Claire found a spare moment to grab her mobile and text Geillis, on the off chance that she would be on break too. 

traitor. what did u say to him about me?

She waited a full twenty minutes before the phone buzzed in reply.

technically, nothing. i told Rupert, ye ken? ;)

what did u say specifically to Rupert then?

oh, only that you workd at the University College Hospital A&E, 235 Euston Road, London, NW1 2BU. ur lucky i didn’t give him your home address. 

Claire gripped the phone, mildly wishing it were Geillis’s neck. So throttling it was, not hugging as previously considered.

well, he showed up here. chased frnk away, as it were, nice surprise. and he asked me out for coffee.

!!!!!!!!!!!! :O :O

TECHNICALLY, dinner, but i’m afraid i can only do coffee. For now.

claire, i must get back to wk, but i am calling you later. don’t even think about not taking my call. OK?!?!?!!!

Claire allowed herself a small grin. alright, we’ll talk later.

She put her phone away, but it buzzed one more time.

u must name one of ur future bairns after me!

Claire stuffed the wretched thing in her pocket and walked away, leaving all thought of blue-eyed, red-haired children behind.

_______________________________________________________________________

The lavender sweater hung inside her locker, while Claire just stared at it. It was 5:45, and Jamie was due in fifteen minutes. Should she change out of her scrubs, put a bit of makeup on, or just stroll out in her nurse-wear, tennis shoes, and tangled curls?

“Why am I even debating this?” Claire muttered to herself, before slamming the locker door shut with a clang. After washing her hands at the sink, she pulled a hair tie out of her purse, making a messy bun on the top of her head. If Jamie was the sort of man that cared much about a woman’s appearance, then she wouldn’t want to go out with him after this anyway.

In her navy pea coat, Claire stepped out of the hospital, bundling herself against the chill in the air. At six on the dot, Jamie turned the corner, in a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and that damnable leather jacket. Noticing Claire immediately, his face broke out in a sunny grin; he came right up to her and gave her a brief peck on the cheek.

“Hello, Claire. I’m glad to see ye didna change yer mind.”

“Hi, Jamie,” Claire managed, still a little stunned at his greeting. “I almost did, just now, wishing I had worn something else. You look very… well, James Dean comes to mind.”

He laughed, deep bass and staccato. “Ye look lovely. I’d love for people to see I’m out with a  doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor,” Claire amended with a smile.

“Not yet.” Jamie extended his hand toward the street. “Shall we?”

That hand found its way to the small of her back, there but not touching, and Claire did not know what to make of it. She imagined it was him not pushing himself on her, letting her take the lead—and she liked him for it.

In shy, comfortable silence, Claire walked them to a nearby café she frequented with the other nurses. They sat across from each other and ordered from the waitress, black decaf for her, and cream and sugar for Jamie.

“Could we get some scones with clotted cream please?” Claire asked. The server nodded with a smile and swept away to fetch a plate. “They’re absolute heaven,” she explained to Jamie, helping herself to a steaming scone.

“Did ye eat properly today?” Jamie probed. “Seems like they work ye to the bone.” 

Claire smiled. “I had a sandwich from the hospital cafeteria.”

“I’ll no’ have ye go hungry. Please, let’s order something more.” He raised his hand to signal their server, but Claire brought it back down. A tingle shot across her skin and she withdrew hastily. 

“Perhaps later.” So you are considering a ‘later’, a voice piped up in her mind. Claire shut down this inner monologue with a long sip from her cup.

“So Claire…” Jamie brushed his hand against the back of his neck; this was a gesture she had seen before and thought oddly endearing. “I’d like to apologize for asking yer friend Geillis for information on where to contact ye.”

“Oh.” Claire blinked. “There’s no need really.”

“She told me ye changed yer number ye see,” Jamie continued, with red-tipped ears. “And I certainly wasna goin’ to show up unannounced at yer doorstep.”

“It’s fine. It’s nice to see you again.” She looked down at the table and breathed deeply. “I guess you should know what took me to that bar in the first place, weeks ago.”

“Only if ye care to tell me. I assumed Frank did something bad.” He stirred another sugar in with a nod for her to continue—if she wanted to.

“Frank cheated.” Claire swallowed hard. “I caught him in the act, you know—” here Jamie winced in sympathy—“and I fled to Edinburgh to see a friendly face. Geillis helped me drown my sorrows.” 

“And then, like a wee idiot, I asked ye backstage and you thought I wanted—“

“I admit, I was a bit flattered.” Claire grinned, remembering. “Mostly annoyed though.” 

“Were ye?” Jamie’s eyes gleamed, teasing. His hand lay close to hers on the table. Her fingers twitched involuntarily, and she took the spoon off the saucer instead. The waitress refilled their cups and lay down a fresh plate of scones.

“A bit.” Claire inhaled the sugary yeast of the bread, the sharpness of the coffee, and the spicy scent that was him. “It’s been a month. And you were right, it’s still raw and hurting. Less than yesterday, but more than tomorrow.” She tried to keep the bitterness from her tone, and almost succeeded. Her eyes met his honest, open gaze and she thought he understood.

“I suppose that’s how it goes. One day at a time.” Jamie squeezed her hand briefly, unawares, and too soon let go.

Flustered, she bit into a warm scone and licked the crumbs off her lips. “Tell me about your tour, then. Seemed like an awful lot of cities in such a short time.”

“It was hellish betimes, lass. It helps that we are all genuinely good mates and we love what we do. Ian’s my brother-in-law, ye ken?”

“I didn’t! He married your…?”

“Sister. Jenny. I’m an uncle four times over. They’ve managed to carry on despite the long distance.” Jamie’s blue eyes sparkled in remembrance of his nieces and nephews.

Claire smiled and raised her cup to the mysterious Jenny. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Aye, and abstinence too, apparently.” The Scottish burr of rolling r’s ensnared her into a feeling of warmth and security long forgotten. Claire laughed, and it felt good to laugh, openly and truthfully, cleansing her heart.

Jamie took a bite of a scone liberally spread with cream. “Ian’s always been by my side. We’re childhood friends, and wi’ Jenny always about, it only seemed natural for them to get marrit.” When he spoke with emotion, his accent got thicker, she noticed.

“And the rest of the band?”

“Cousins. And our manager is our uncle, Murtagh,” said Jamie.

“All in the family indeed. And why music? Don’t get me wrong, you’re very talented,” Claire clarified as Jamie cleared his throat in amusement.

“Even though ye had never heard of us before?” His eyes gleamed with humor.

“Geillis would have told you, of course.” Claire blushed.

“Weel, my da took me to a concert when I was eight years old, to see U2. They played in Edinburgh at Murrayfield Stadium. The first notes began and it was puir magic—how everyone responded and I thought, I want that someday.”

Another comfortable silence stretched between them. The sky outside had darkened rapidly into November night. Small flakes were falling; they melted as soon as they brushed against the window. It had been an hour—or perhaps two, Claire wasn’t keeping track, to be honest—and even more surprisingly, she didn’t want to leave.

“And ye, why nursing?”

“I suppose I like helping people. I was always fascinated by the first aid tent at Uncle Lamb’s expeditions and digs. He was an archaeologist. I had a most unusual upbringing.” Claire grinned into the dregs of her coffee when Jamie looked taken aback. “I know how to dig latrines and light fires and the proper procedure for cataloguing priceless ancient artifacts.

“But it was healing that attracted me. When men from the dig would come in, hurt or sick, and I could help do something for them. And I hope to continue doing that, when—if—I get into medical school.”

Jamie tapped her hand with a long finger. “So ye are plannin’ to be a doctor! I knew it! It’s a relief, bein’ certain about what it is we want to do in life, isn’t it?”

“Frank always said he was jealous, that I’d always known what my calling was,” Claire said. “He wasn’t always an arse.”

The waitress came over with the check and an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to toss you out, but we’re closing soon. Would you mind cashing out with me? You don’t have to leave yet, though.” Jamie gave her a dazzling smile and pulled a £20 note.

Noting Claire’s glance at the bill—far too much for what they had consumed, even with tip—Jamie explained, “I always felt guilty about spending hours and hours at cafés in Scotland and only drinkin’ water. Now that I can, I like to make it up to others.” He put the money on the small tray and told the waitress to keep the change.

That brought to mind their previous coffee encounter. “If the tour’s over, why are you in London then?” Claire asked.

“Och, I live here,” Jamie answered.

“I thought you said you lived on your family’s farm, Lolling- something?” Claire said, confused.

“Lallybroch,” Jamie corrected gently. “Aye, that’s home, but not where I live. Verra important distinction.” He tried to wink, but was apparently incapable of it; he managed to blink with both eyes and nod at the same time, which made Claire burst out laughing again.

Seizing her hand suddenly, he looked eagerly into her eyes. “A friend of ours, Hugh, owns a bar here, Duke’s. He’s asked us to play this weekend, and we said yes, as a surprise for his patrons. He’s a good lad, he gave us one of our biggest breaks early on.”

Claire sat unmoving, staring distractedly at their hands together and trying not to notice that tingling sensation that seemed to develop whenever their skin came into contact. Trying not to get caught in the intense azure of his gaze which she was studiously ignoring. If she looked, she would say yes. Yes to anything he suggested or wanted. And it felt like too much, too soon.

“Jamie—” 

“Come. Please. I’d really love for ye to be there, Claire. Bring Geillis if ye like—I know Rupert would.”

“I don’t know.” Don’t do this. Don’t do this to me. “It seems complicated. I mean, you’re James bleeding rock-star Fraser and you seem all kinds of perfect. I can’t deny you’re attractive. That I’m attracted to you.” Just say it. “I’m drawn to you—this—whatever this is. But my head… it’s not there yet.”

Jamie’s thumb circled her palm, eliciting uninvited sparks. “And yer heart?”

Claire flushed red. “Oh, Jamie.”

“I’d like to try for it. As long as it takes. I’ll be here—you can have whatever you need from me. I’ll wait, Claire. I’ll stay.”