weary roads

4

Gwent

“Invented by dwarves and perfected over centuries of tavern table play, Gwent is a game of initial simplicity and ultimate depth, something beloved by both road-weary travellers during long nights around the campfire and elegant nobles looking to liven up dragging dinner parties.”

By :  Tony Sart

Nikita Volobuev  (Left)

Ekaterina Grusovskaya (Right)

Ivan Nikov

Ring of Fire

Imagine Thorin working at your family’s forge and slowly falling in love with him.

The market square was bustling as you set out a row of tarts along the counter of your stall, the awning above flapping gently with the summer breeze. Your sister, Raina leaned against the post next to you, gazing into the crowd with latent interest. Ever the gossip, she reveled in market days and the opportunity to savour the rumours swirling among the townsfolk of Ered Luin. Despite the staunch character of the dwarven race, many could not help wagging their tongues about the latest histrionics in the lives of their neighbours.

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Family Is Everything


Your name: submit What is this?

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Summary: You’re scared to tell Sam you’re pregnant. Reader Request.

Warnings: Reference to sex, pregnancy and language.


“Hey.” Sam ambles haphazardly through your front door, planting at a distracted kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, back.” You tug at the shoulder of you over-sized sweatshirt, pulling it back into place.

Sam has no idea what he’s walking into.

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He looks like an old ukrainian woman who lost her son Dimitri in the war and now sits by the side of a weary road less-travelled selling potatoes for a very modest price

anonymous asked:

ficlet word: diner

It’s late and the diner is one of those little twenty-four seven places with stressed out waitresses and road weary truck drivers.

The sign in the front says to seat yourself and they’re glad for it. Dean picked one of the back booths in the back. He smirked to himself when he saw that there was a young couple sitting right in front of them. The kind of couple that looked rigid and uptight, the kind of couple that don’t look like they visit this kind of place often. The kind of couple that were very set in their ways.

It was the perfect booth for the both of them.

The guy, some dude who’s probably going to go bald before forty eyed Dean as he looked him up and down and then turned his gaze towards Sam, the frown on his face deepening. He leaned over towards the girl and whispered something in her ear that caused her to frown too.

Dean slid into the booth first, settling himself against the wall and angling his body to where Sam could slid up right next to him. Sam shot him a quick look, glancing over at the couple with a question on his face but Dean only smiled and suddenly Sam seems to understand everything perfectly. Sam returned the smile.

Dean rested his arm along the back of the armrest as Sam climbed into the booth and along the seat until he settled himself right on top of Dean’s lap.

Dean let out a surprised sound, not expecting Sam to take it that far but frankly he’s not complaining. They’re facing the couple and suddenly the couple seemed all too interested in their meal that they previously seemed disinterested in, eating without saying a word.

Their server, a young woman who looked like she was still barely in college and stressed showed up a few moments later and handed them the menus. She looked at them for a second and started to say something about how patrons weren’t allowed to sit in the laps of other patrons unless they were children when she locked her jaw shut at the look that Dean sent her way. Instead she smiled, pulling out the little rectangle notepad, pen ready.

“So… what can I get y’all?” She asked, her voice dripping with a heavy southern accent.

“I’ll take a chocolate milkshake.” Sam said, handing the girl back the menu. “With whipped cream and a cherry please.” He added with his best innocent smile that he could muster.

She nodded, scribbling it down before turning to look at Dean. “Do you want one too, sir?”

Dean looked over the menu like he was actually considering getting something before he handed the menu back to her and shook his head. “Naw, we’ll take just the one.”

The girl looked between the two of them, her eyes wide before she cleared her throat, said that it would be out in a moment and then proceeded to turn on her heel back towards the kitchen. When Dean straightened his gaze back to in front of him he couldn’t keep from smiling when he saw that the couple was looking at them again.

They flushed bright red when they realized that they were being really fucking obvious at their staring and quickly turned back to their nearly finished meal. Sam is the one who actually laughs, a bubble of giddy laughter exploding through his chest.

He laced his arm around the back of Dean’s neck and rested his forehead against his, their noses barely touching. Dean had his hand resting just below Sam’s knee which he slowly started to move up, thumb rubbing small circles into his thigh.

“What’d you think they do if you fucked me on top of this table?” Sam purred against Dean’s neck and Dean nearly choked because fuck kid, you can’t just fucking say that without warning a man first .

Dean swallowed around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat and pushed away the thought of how Sam would look spread out along the table.

“Probably watch until we finished. They’ve never seen anything as hot as my baby with a dick in him.” Dean replied back, turning the dirty talk up to nearly a hundred. If Sam wanted to play this game, then they would play. “Couldn’t keep their hands off themselves.” He whispered as he leaned closer towards Sam, nearly pushing Sam back against the edge of the table, bending him in half. “When they hear the noises you make…” Sam closed his eyes as Dean continued. “Whimpering and moaning my name…” Dean’s lips hovered just above Sam’s. “They’d sit there and watch.” Dean laughed suddenly and Sam smiled up at him. “Then they’d call the cops.”

Their server returned with their milkshake topped with two straws and one cherry. Sam brought one of the straws to his lips.

“Mmm.” he hummed around the red plastic. “It’s really good, try some.” The woman looked over as Sam held the straw out for Dean. Dean didn’t break eye contact with Sam as he took a sip.

“Delicious.” Dean agreed, looking at Sam and licked his lips.

Sam set the glass down and glanced at the woman who was now making no point to hide her distaste. He picked the cherry off the top of the whipped cream and popped the entire thing into his mouth.

She turned toward the man and said something under her breath as she kicked his leg. He said something back and then turned to look at them.

Sam stared back at them as he laid his hand on Dean’s cheek, pulling him toward his lips. He kissed Dean hard, dipping his tongue into his mouth as Dean kissed back. They made a point to be as obnoxious about it as they could, moaning loudly, breathing heavy. Dean pushed his hands up through Sam’s hair and held tight. Sam bit onto Dean’s bottom lip and pulled as he leaned back, breaking the kiss; keeping his eyes on the couple the whole time.

Dean reached up and pulled the cherry stem from his mouth and grinned at the couple.

The woman made a disgusted noise as she abruptly stood up, throwing her napkin on the table. The man shoved his empty plate away from him and followed her to the register.

“Got the whole section to ourselves now,” Dean said with a smirk and took another sip.

Uncorked

Prompt: You gradually fall for Simon

Simon/Reader, Fluff and Smut.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, NSFW

When you’d arrived at the Sanctuary, near starved and desperate for the safety, Simon had been one of the first people you’d met. Even covered in more than a week’s worth of grime, hair slicked back and clothes riddled with what felt like more holes than fabric, he’d still find cause to make a pass at you.

At first you’d thought it must be a wind up, a cruel joke to make you look stupid in front of the others but then he’d waggled his eyebrows and the grin that slotted between his moustache had been nothing but genuine. Road weary and still grieving the loss of your husband you’d given him a flat “no, thank you,” that had only made him chuckle before he shook away the word like water off a duck’s back.

That was six months ago.

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Seek, and You Shall Find: Chapter 12

Sorry I’ve been AWOL the past couple of weeks. But, here it is… The final chapter of S&YSF…

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3  Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8   Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11


Jamie tapped timidly on Colum’s door. He began formulating a plan in his head ever since he received Jenny’s letter.

Putting first things first, he had to find a way to leave Castle Leoch. Preferably without having to sneak out, but if the worst came to the worst…

“Come in.”

Jamie screwed his face into a mask of distracted concern. He hoped his acting was acceptable enough to fool Colum.

“Oh, Jamie. Come sit.”

He did just that, making sure to drag his feet a little to play up his sadness.

“I must ask ye something, Uncle,” he rasped.

“Aye, what seems to be the problem, lad. Ye werena this upset when yer witch lady left.”

Jamie chose to ignore that comment; this was not the time to start an argument. “I received a letter today, ye ken?”

“I did not.”

“Well, it came from Lallybroch. From Jenny. She's… ill. A physician came to see her, but he didna ken what was wrong. I'm… afraid for her. I dinna… I dinna want anything… to happen to her, and I dinna see her…”

He knew this would touch Colum close to his heart. Although he was angry with Jamie’s mother–his sister– for many years, Jamie knew he regretted never speaking to her before she died.

It was working. Jamie saw the softening of brows, the diminishing frown. “And ye wish to go see her?”

“Aye, Uncle. Very much so.”

“Ye’ll need a horse.”

“Two, Uncle. Murtagh wishes to see her as well.”

Colum sighed heavily. “Very well. Ask Mrs. Fitz for some provisions.”

“Thank ye.”

Jamie stood to leave. As he reached the door, his uncle spoke again. “But, I expect ye back at the castle afterward.”

He didn’t look back. “Aye.”

At that moment, Jamie wasn’t going to tell Colum that he would never be back.

***

Murtagh leaned cautiously beside Colum’s door, straining his ears. Jamie had come up with a plan, he said. A way to convince his uncle to let them leave without repercussions.

That boy was going to be the death of him, he just knew it. Charming as his mother and stubborn as his father, Jamie knew how to rope Murtagh into anything.

And all for a woman?

He supposed Mistress Beauchamp was a good woman, if not a bit strange. And she had captured the lad’s heart fully.

But, damn, he hoped she was worth all of this trouble.

Murtagh flinched at the sound of the heavy wooden door slamming. Jamie’s flaming head appeared, dancing in the torchlight.

A single glance, and a nod was all he received for an answer.

Tonight, they would ride.

***

“Yer awfully quiet, lad.” Murtagh broke the silence that had plagued them since the left Castle Leoch.

Jamie didn’t turn toward him, keeping his body straight and forward facing. “Aye.”

“What’s wrong with ye?” Murtagh was never one to mince words. Tact wasn’t his strongest quality.

“Nothing.”

“Weel, ye dinna much look like a man that is on his way to see his love.”

“It’s no Claire I’m worried about. It’s Jenny.” Murtagh didn’t respond, but merely raised a brow. “I havena seen her in years. I’m no a brother to her. Not as I should be.  Her bairns dinna ken me, and I dinna ken them.”

“Hush. Family is family, lad. Time doesna change blood.”

Jamie’s lips twitched into a half smile. “I ken that. But–”

“Dinna worry sae much. Yer just suffering for a problem that hasna happened yet.”

“Hmph.” Jamie tilted his head toward Murtagh. “I dinna ken ye were so… smart.”

“Weel. Ye should pay attention more often.”

***

Lallybroch was a white speck in the distance. Jamie felt his heart beat faster, harder.

Squaring his shoulders and repeating Murtagh’s words in his mind, Jamie urged Donas forward.

***

The dogs began to bark before Jamie even stepped foot on the property. His scent had become unfamiliar to them.

“Luke! Hush! If ye wake wee Maggie, I’ll throttle ye!” The voice’s familiarity warmed Jamie’s wame.

“Ian,” Jamie said, barely loud enough over the barking. But, it reached Ian’s ears, and he perked up.

“Jamie!” His kind, good humored face broke out into a grin. “We were wondering if ye’d show up!”

And, with that, Ian hobbled over to him, unsteady in the early morning’s exhaustion. Jamie met the smaller man halfway, and enveloped him in a hug.

“It’s good to see ye, mo charaid,” Ian whispered against his shoulder.

“Aye. I’ve missed ye.” Jamie patted Ian’s back before pulling away. “Where’s Jenny?”

“Asleep, still. With Maggie.”

“Maggie?”

“Our youngest. Only a couple weeks old.”

Jamie sighed, full of regret. “I’ve missed so much…”

“Aye, but ye can make it up to us later. But someone has been waiting for ye.”

“How is she?” Jamie was anxious to get to Claire.

“Fine, fine. She was a bit road weary when she came to us, and sick. Feverish. But, she told us about ye when she was well.”

“And ye trusted her?” Jamie was surprised they did, but not unhappy about it.

“Weel, Jenny was a bit less trusting of her. But, when she helped Jenny deliver Maggie… I suppose that formed a bond, ye ken?”

“She delivered a child?” Jamie was shocked– not because Claire helped birth a baby; he knew she was more than capable, but that Jenny would let her.

“Aye. Quite a woman, that Claire.”

“Where is she?”

“I dinna ken. I would say in bed, but she hasna been sleeping well since she arrived. I wouldna be surprised if she was roaming the house.”

Jamie was suddenly overcome with emotion. “Thank ye, Ian. For taking care of them: Jenny and Claire.”

“Oh… hush, now. Go find Claire. I’ll help Murtagh with the horses.”

***

Thankfully, Claire wasn’t far. Jamie saw her form, hunched in front of the fire in the sitting room.

“Claire.”

She turned toward him. He saw how pale and thin she had become; it was amazing what a few weeks of harshness could do to a body. But she was there, complete and well.

She smiled. It was a smile that crinkled her eyes and morphed her face into a beam of light. Despite everything, she was radiant.

She spoke then, with low, soothing tones he had become so familiar with in the past months.

“You found me.”


Note: Thank you to everyone who supported me. I couldn’t have done it without you! I feel incredible accomplished for finishing my first full length story. 

I have been so focused on this story that I’ve neglected a few of my others. Right now, I have four WIPs (Alla Prima, Ghosts in the Daylight, Between Two Worlds, and Snail Mail), and I’m excited to get back to them!

Again, thank you so much for your support! I don’t know if I could have finished this story without it!

XOXO

Pack Your Bags

This ficlet is part of the Jamie Through the Stones AU which starts with Third Time’s the Charm.

This ficlet is a direct continuation from Turning Thirty

My Fanfiction Master List

Available on AO3 as Written in the Stones

This is an Outlander canon divergence AU ficlet.

Let me know what you think.

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Four Times Dean Winchester Guesses Wrong

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/ OMCs, Aaron Bass/ Dean Winchester (attempted)

Tags: Bisexual!Dean Winchester, Growing up, coming out, self-acceptance, homophobia, homophobic language, brief violence, 5+1 things except it’s 4+1 because i didn’t want to write another scene 

Word Count: 2,091 

Summary: Dean Winchester is man of many talents. Gaydar is not one of them. 

(Read on A03)


1.
He’s a small nerdy-looking dude, thin without the trace of the typical high school boy’s need for alpha-maleness. He wears glasses, plays in band, and is called gay and a faggot by the football team on a regular basis. 

And Dean thought he would be a safe bet.  

While Dean might pretend to cheer with the other guys and doesn’t do anything to interfere, he’s secretly attracted to the nebbish guy named Thomas, whose dark hair and blue eyes and inability to go through the day without getting his books dumped into the trash, replaces his fantasies of big-boobed models in his morning showers. 

By seventeen Dean knows that being attracted to dudes will ruin his life. His father, his brother, Bobby — they would all look at him differently if they knew. Would look down on him for being this way. So he keeps this part of him to himself and learns to play it safe. 

Thomas looks safe. 

So it takes him by surprise after he rescues Thomas’s books from the nearest garbage bin and offers to take him on a date that Thomas looks at him with open disgust, the thankful expression replaced by hatred and horror. 

It’s the first time in Dean’s life that he’s ever seen this reaction directed at him by another human being. Of course, it certainly won’t be the last. 

He corners Thomas the next day and threatens the dude, swearing if he hears anything about what happened the day before, he’ll pay, because Dean Winchester isn’t some fucking queer. 

Three days later, Dean finds himself behind a bleacher, sucking the cock of one of the jocks who trashed Thomas’ books in the first place.

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Magnetic Chapter 29: Domestic

Dean Winchester x Reader

1300 Words

Story Summary:  After your Dad was killed, you were shocked to learn all about his hidden life. Deciding to follow in his footsteps, you turn to a life of hunting, surprised at how well you adapted. Then comes along Sam and Dean Winchester, turning your life upside down. You and Dean don’t get along at first, but then things soon start to change.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Waking up the next morning, it took you a moment to realize where you were. The bed was soft, a lot softer than yours. It’s memory foam cushioned your hip, but your chest and head were placed on something firm and solid, with a heavy weight over your back, your legs tangled with someone else’s.

Peeking an eye open, you could just make out the stubble beginning to grow on Dean’s chin, the way his chest still moved up and down slowly as he still slept. His arm was wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to his chest, his hand splayed protectively across your back. You could grow accustomed to waking up this way, safe and warm in his arms.

Seeing the clock on the nightstand flashing 8:30, you carefully slid out from under his arm, watching as he shifted on the bed as soon as you were gone. It gave you a chance to really look at him. With his freckles all along his nose, and his full lashes dusting his cheeks, he looked so much younger asleep. Less beaten and road weary, he didn’t look like the deadly hunter he truly was.

Slipping out of the room, you made your way towards the kitchen, already smelling the coffee brewing. Greeting Sam as you walked inside, you poured yourself a cup of coffee before sitting down across from him. 

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anonymous asked:

Oh my god I love you no one ever writes 7 days to die aus please write/ref more!!

Ahhh, you should bless @gaywood for giving me the prompt in the first place! 

{ AO3 Link }

but okay, I love to think about them not knowing each other at first, and it’s like Ryan collects a whole pack of them that follow him around like puppies as he passes through dead or dying towns

and maybe they’re the first people he’s come across who are decent, who aren’t out for his blood and the guns he’s built with his own two hands or the tins of food that sit heavy at the bottom of his pack. 

There’s Jack who snatches his arm as he’s sprinting from a horde, pulls him into a room that’s well fortified, and Jack’s clearly been there for a while, if the amount of stuff in the room is anything to go by; and he’s obviously got it from other people- killed them, Ryan thinks, and he’s quick on the draw- but Jack ignores him, keeps his ear pressed to the door, tense, before deflating. They’re safe.

Jack saved his life and he’s still got his pistol trained on him, even as Jack blinks at the gun, confused for a moment before moving on to check the other barricades. 

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A deadly sword, a healing hand,
a back that bent beneath his load;
a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,
a weary pilgrim on the road.


A lord of wisdom throned he sat,
swift in anger, quick to laugh;
an old man in a battered hat
who leaned upon a thorny staff.

—  Excerpt from The Fellowship of the Ring, Book II, Chapter 7