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ofmermaidsandmarauders · 4 years ago

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stolen dreams took our childish days - chapter 3

read on FF or AO3

I hope you all enjoy this next chapter in Jamie and Claire’s foster care adventure. It’s a bit shorter than usual, but... Enjoy! xoxo

March 2020

It’s about three weeks before they’re able to arrange a visit after school for Fergus to see his mom. It means Jamie has a few extra hours to kill before he has to pick him up from the visitation center. He’s finishing up at the office when his phone dings. It’s on do not disturb which means the notification is from Claire, the only person whose number will bypass the setting.

Maybe you should pick up a treat for Fergus. I’m sure that he’ll be sad to be leaving his mom. He told me that he loves chocolate chip cookies. Or maybe ice cream. Or idk, Jamie, maybe he won’t need a snack and his mom will have brought him something.

He could sense Claire’s frantic energy in the text, a grin splitting his mouth wide open.

Breathe, Sassenach. What a fine idea. I’ll pick him up something special. See you tonight.

Glancing at the time, Jamie decided the workday was done and that he’d need a few spare minutes to pick up a treat for the lad.

It didn’t take long at the bakery to pick out a cookie, and before he knew it, Jamie was waiting patiently in a vinyl chair with no support. He kept glancing at his phone, answering a few emails before he heard a door open and looked up. A kind woman with cropped curly hair and dark skin with a badge around her neck stood in the doorway of one of the rooms just to the right. “Mr. Fraser?” she asked, at which he stood and nodded. “I’m Veronica, I’m the one covering the visits.”

“Aye, I am. It’s nice to meet ye as well,” he responded softly, taking a few steps toward her.

“Fergus is having a difficult time leaving his mother. I’m not sure if you have a few minutes, the transition during the first visit is always the hardest,” Veronica explained, gesturing to the room.

“Would it be alright if I said a quick hello and tried to help ease the lad back to my home?” Jamie inquired, the bag from the bakery in his left hand, lifting it as if showing that he had brought bribery.

“Well, alright… As long as you’re comfortable.” Veronica turned back into the room and Jamie stepped toward it, stopping in the doorway as he saw Fergus crying in his mother’s arms, the woman’s own eyes appearing glassy.

“Fergus, lad?” he called softly, knocking on the dark wooden door. Fergus’ head peeked up before he started to cry harder, burying his face back in his mother’s neck.

“I don’t wanna go!” Fergus cried out, his knuckles white from the grip on his mother’s shoulders.

Jamie took a moment to observe the interaction. Fergus’ mother appeared younger than he expected. Very young, actually. Jamie was preparing to turn thirty-two in a few months and made the mistake of assuming that Fergus’ mother would be close to his own age, but she looked as though she couldn’t be older than twenty-five.

Her curls were thinner than his wife’s, but she had the same dark hair. For a moment, Jamie envisioned her as a younger version of Claire, like a younger sister who had lost her way in life. Claudia was nothing like the monster that he had created in his head. She looked tired, her eyes were sunken in a bit. Her skin was pale and the lass was thin. Eerily thin.

What Jamie then noticed was how fiercely she was holding Fergus, like she was afraid to let him go. He felt guilty, as if he was the one forcing the two apart, but he had to remind himself that this wasn’t the case.

“Och, lad. Are ye no’ going to introduce me to yer mam? I ken ye’re sad but I’d like tae meet the lass!” Fergus looked at Jamie and cracked a smile, likely at Jamie’s accent.

“Mama, this is Jamie. He talks funny, but he’s real nice. He and Claire… that’s his wife, you ken? They’ve been really nice. Claire said that maybe me and you could talk on the phone before bed at night if you’ve got a phone. And Jamie makes Mickey pancakes really good and…” Claudia held up a hand, a pained smile on her lips, though Jamie was sure Fergus couldn’t tell the difference.

“Maybe I could introduce myself to Jamie, now?” Her smile became softer and more teasing as she kissed Fergus’ forehead before placing him on the ground, stepping tentatively toward Jamie. He squared his shoulders before holding his hand out.

“It’s a pleasure tae meet ye, lass. Fergus speaks verra highly of ye. He’s quite the lad. Brilliant and funny and charming,” Jamie trailed off, his cheeks going pink as he realized he was telling her about her own son.

“Oh, well… I thank you for that. It’s obvious he’s fond of the both of you.” Claudia looked at her hands, picking at the cuticles. She swayed on her feet before looking back at Fergus.

“I hate to say it’s time to go, lad, but ye have yer schoolwork to finish, aye? Say goodbye to yer mam,” Jamie instructed, feeling uncomfortable with the fact that he had to be the one to end the visit. Wasn’t Veronica supposed to step in at some point and do this? Why had he said that? Maybe he was being too forward?

“Mr. Fraser is right, Fergus, but I’ll pick you up from school again next week and you’ll get to see your mom again, alright?” As if on cue, Veronica stepped in and began tidying up the toys in the room, speaking softly to Claudia before Fergus gave his mother one final tight hug and kiss. Jamie picked up the lad’s knapsack in his free hand, gesturing for Fergus to lead the way from the room.

“I bought ye some cookies. Claire told me they’re yer favorite. Ye can have one in the car if ye promise to be careful with the wee crumbs. Do ye have a lot of work to do tonight?” Jamie filled the silence on the walk to his car, helping Fergus into the booster seat in the back. Fergus, normally chatty after a day at school, was noticeably silent as Jamie prompted him again with the question. Refusing to leave until Fergus had spoken to him, Jamie squeezed himself into the floor of the backseat, looking up at Fergus’ sad face.

“I don’t want to leave my mama. I don’t want to be apart from her anymore. It’s not fair!” Fergus sounded frustrated, and Jamie didn’t blame him. To only be eight and have to leave your mother not once, but twice. With no say in the matter, either. He didn’t blame Fergus for thinking it wasn’t fair.

“Och, weel, the both of us ken it’s not quite fair, but ‘tis what must be done until yer mam can keep ye safe and healthy. And in the meantime, ye’re always welcome with me and Claire, whether ye want to be there or not. We love having ye in our home, lad. I hope ye ken that.” Jamie was worried that his attempts at reassurance were a waste of time, but Fergus appeared to be comforted by them as he reached his small hands down to pat Jamie’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” the boy whispered softly, letting his eyes close as he sunk back into his seat.

Assuming the conversation was over, Jamie moved back into the driver’s seat and began their journey home. He had much to discuss with Claire before bed that night.

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“Claire, ‘twas mebbe the most horrible thing I’ve seen in my life. The lad wouldna stop weeping. ‘Tis a shock my own heart isna torn in two at just the thought of it!”

Claire couldn’t contain a giggle at his dramatics, even if it was a depressing thought.

“Jamie, of course he’s sad! He had to leave his mom after finally getting to see her. I can’t believe you met her. What was she like?” she asked, the question coming out before she even knew it was one she had.

“Kind. And sad. Thin. Tired. Young. Verra young. Mebbe ten years younger than you, Sassenach. Sae thin, sae young. The lass looked like she would fall apart. She’s got a heid of curly hair just like her son. Much like yers, in fact. She was… She was just his mam.” Jamie’s shoulders felt at this last statement, his body settling into the mattress for the night. He hadn’t expected the thought to shake him so much. Jamie hadn’t even planned on meeting her, but something had pushed him to go in that room and coax Fergus out. Rolling onto his side, he thought deeply about what brought them to take in a child in foster care. Their goal had been to provide a safe and healthy home to a child in need. He thought he was protecting Fergus, but in fact, he was worried he may have been doing the complete opposite. Were they keeping the boy from the one person in life who would unconditionally love him?

Claire could sense that Jamie was deep in thought, and she took the opportunity to wrap her arms around him, climbing on top of him. Her cheek settled against his chest and she let out a little sigh when his hands found their place in the curve of her lower back.

“She’s just his mam,” Jamie repeated, the words causing a shiver to run down his spine.

“It’s not your fault that he’s here, Jamie. We’re just keeping him safe and giving him a good home until they can be together again, that’s all. You’re doing a good thing.” Claire peppered kisses along his skin between her statements. Her left hand rose to cup his cheek, thumb stroking over the curve of his upper lip. She felt her fingers start to dampen and realized that Jamie had been so shaken that he was crying. It was only then that she realized Jamie had lost his own mother, Ellen, at Fergus’ exact age.

“Oh, Jamie,” she breathed out, her hands going to his shoulders, holding tighter to him. “It’s alright. He’s going to be alright.”

“I ken, I just hope we are more help than hurt for the lad.” Jamie’s voice was hoarse, his hands stroking at the soft skin on Claire’s back.

“I love ye, Sassenach.” The words meant many things, more than he knew how to put into words, and he knew that Claire would understand the hidden meaning.

“She would be proud of you,” Claire whispered, the words coming out before she even knew they were there. Jamie stiffened beneath her for a moment before letting his body relax. His grip tightened for a fraction of a second before loosening his hold so that his hands could stroke beneath her t-shirt. “You’ve turned into an amazing person, Jamie. Ellen Fraser would be so proud of the man you’ve become.”

Jamie didn’t say anything else, just let the tears he had been holding in freely flow while his wife wiped them away.

#outlander #outlander fic #jamie x claire #JamieClaire #ol fic #foster care #foster care fic

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bigscaryyanderewriter · 5 years ago

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Playing the Long Game (Spy x Reader)

3k words

YOU RECEIVE A GIFT TODAY, PEASANTS. IT TWAS COMMISSIONED BY A LOVELY PERSON.

Tw: Yandere Themes, Knife Play, Bondage, Gags, Torture mention, Smut

Living in the clutches of Spy never really tested you, since you only took opportunities when they presented themselves. Escape never became an option, really. It wasn't so bad, playing the role of a captive, since you had been in the profession yourself. As a spy, not a captive, though you had spent a fair amount of time playing that as well.

He knew you only would escape if he gave you the chance, if he were to be weak. That was why he never was very sympathetic with you. Underestimating someone he respected would be a fatal mistake, especially how long you patiently wait for any way to strike him. To say things were tense would be incorrect, though the nuances of your interactions were often missed. Really, you two could have been dancers with the social routines you have when with one enough.

You never hated each other. Something else was there, but neither of you really understood it. Maybe it was love? You think it was being in the same boat as people.

You could remember first meeting him, opposing one another. In disguise, you looked at him and slowly worked through that defense. He knew though as soon as he saw you. You could say it was the preposterous love at first sight. He was prepared to kill you right there and then, but you kneed him in the groin before hopping out of a window. You weren't weak, but you could admit to the way your heart stopped at he looked into your eyes. It was… Intimidating.

You would meet again though, and again, and again. Sometimes him in disguise, you would catch him and attempt to kill him. Sometimes reverse. You were well acquainted when you both wound up bound back to back in the containment container of a third party. He worked with those mercs and you were an independent party, but you had very similar enemies.

You blinked as you shifted slightly, peering through your eyelashes around the room.

"Ah, you're awake then? It is just us, don't worry." His voice was bored as you both were stuck with nothing much to do.

"Hm, oh, it's you. Been a while, Spy… Should have known I would get stuck with you of all the mercs." You laughed in a rough way, your throat was hurting a bit as you leaned back against him.

"Were you hoping for someone else?" The man behind you said while you moved your unbound feet about. You moved your foot up to rest on your knees and leaned down. Amateurs didn't even check your shoes, underestimating you was stupid.

"No, I just found that I should buy a scratch off today, because I am quite lucky. Anyways. Would you like to get out of here, mon ami?" You mimicked his accent with a sly smile as you knew he was grinning behind you. It was a mutual sense of humor.

"If you have a plan, then that would be much appreciated." He moved his hands as far as he could apart with the restraints.

It was a small wire cutters you pull from your shoe with your teeth. Turning your head, you drop it into your hand and cut the cords that hold you both together. Only a couple of snips and voila! You were free as you both got up, beginning to figure the rest of the "plan" out.

The rest was history, a story of bonding as you both sneak your way out of a shipping container and through the yard without alerting anyone. Why work together? The enemy of my enemy is my friend and right now. You both were feeling chummy as all get out. It was delightful to talk with someone similar to you, plus he paid for dinner when you both were safely away. Surprisingly, he was good for a smoke too. Well, it wasn't a surprise. You were just happy he didn't give you a cyanide cigarette as you looked up at the beautiful, starry sky.

Parting ways, you hadn't failed in seeing him fight over whether or not to give you a particularly lovely flower from a vendor. You laughed under breath, but you told him you were flattered and that you would be off now.

"Try not to be so obvious next time, heartbreaker." You smirked before absconding into the nightlife, vanishing from him. The way you said that made his heart thud within his chest as under his mask… A blush formed, a feeling he hadn't felt for a while. It was an unfathomable feeling, like as if he was some boy in a schoolyard looking at a girl who just beat him in his best game.

It took awhile for you to run into one another again. When you did though? Sparks of a whole different kind flew when you had to fight off Pyro with nothing but a squirt gun filled with balsamic vinegar and a large tarp. It was easier than you would expect. Leaving dead in your wake as you had just scurried through their base. Spy was there, a flower in hand as he approached you and in a moment of surprise. A syringe was in your neck and you were out, only to hear the faint, "Merci beaucoup, Medic."

You woke up where you still find yourself, a rather lavish apartment in what you suspect has to be Europe. Never were you sure. You never asked anyways, since there was nothing for miles with how long it took Spy to go get groceries. He could be trying to fake you out though. You feel constantly paranoid.

The windows you couldn't break, not that you wanted to. You had no reason to break anything. If the Spy wanted you dead, then you would be dead and torture didn't seem to be on the table as well. Too nice of a place for that. Running a hand on the slight dust covering the counter, you purse your lips. This wouldn't do. You were above such conditions, so you went to cleaning.

Sure, it was nicer than any other place you have been locked in, but if they were trying to make it nice and they didn't go all the way? You have standards! Standards that would be met as you went to work, needing to keep busy as you waited.

Impatience was a weakness.

The longer you stay there, the more bored you got and anxious you became. Picking up a cookbook as you looked through various recipes and at the freshly stocked ingredients. Time passed and soon you had the Spy arrive. He explained everything. It wasn't intimidation or some threat that he used, just a calm voice. You jokingly said that you needed a vacation anyways, but you saw the turret outside the door when he came in. He acted like nothing was off.

You were well behaved, having been searched for all the gadgets you had on your person. There was nothing for you to use other than the stuff supplied, but it wasn't anything for you to escape with. It drove you slowly to the brink as you got cabin fever. You needed to get out of there. It was too much when things were stagnant. Nothing would happen, only Spy showed up to keep you company. Spy was your sole source to the outside world aside from books and newspapers. You were trapped.

Spy made it clear through… Subtle means that there would be consequences if you tried to leave. Both of you knew. It was irritatingly like chess. You broke though, willpower to keep staying here gone. Luxury or not, you needed to breathe. Every inch of the accessible areas in the apartment had been etched into your memory. You knew the locks on the windows, the little holes in places where you were probably not supposed to notice them.

You broke through the window. It was so easy and you feel a prick to the back of your neck though and your body crumpled down into the glasses and everything faded out of existence. Trapped.

You woke up in a much… The place was not nearly as nice, the position you were in… The binds dug into your wrists and a gag sat within your mouth. Trying to struggling you winced at the cuts on your arms from when you fell into the glass. Everything ached. You were laying on a bed, arms and legs akimbo as you feel the nakedness of your body.

He had it all planned, didn't he? You thought you were so smart, but your mother always warned you that someone would be smarter. Your pride made you doubt her. Now you were trapped in by this fucking Spy, alone and forgotten by the world it seemed. It was not what you wanted. You wanted to leave, escape.

The knife being sharpened by Spy as he sat in the corner gleamed in the low light. "Bonsoir, ma chere… I'm glad you're awake. You've been so good, but nothing can last. Hm?"

You groan while you shift a bit, you back too hot against the mattress. It was annoying. Trying to talk through the gag made drool form, but it wasn't anything intelligible. Weakness was sitting in you as you laid there. Soon, he was moving towards you, pulling off his jacket to put on a nearby coat hanger and came over.

"I think you know that I don't do intimidation. This knife isn't for scaring, I'm afraid that… You have a lesson to learn." He spoke, dragging the cold blade across your bare skin. It made you shiver, flesh covered with hard goosebumps. Your nipples pert with the chill of the room and fear. You were afraid after so long.

The knife pressed harder, making your whimper through the gag in your mouth. You were unable to get words out. It was rough. It was the knife digging in a little and blood was drawn. You had been cut before, had been tortured before. You have the scars as proof, but Spy didn't want information. He just wanted to prove a point to you, to make it known that he was in charge.

Hot crimson dripped from inside you as you stare with empty eyes. It was not fun. There was nothing left to do, but endure as he made cuts along you that let muffled cries fumble through the gag. It didn't hurt has bad as it could have though, the cuts shallow as he listed off offences. Some arbitrary and repetitive for your escape, some for not being wise enough to have just found something else to do, being stupid, hurting yourself and some were just him saying how long he was forced to wait for you.

Spy was patient usually, but now. Here you were bleeding as he sliced you up like deli ham, mouth moving down to lick some of the cuts and making you twitch. You had been naked in front of men before, you had killed men while bare. Lying beneath Spy had your eyes watering and breath hitching with each movement of him.

His blue eyes on you as he slowly shifted above you. A smile on his face with his mask still covering the top of it. Your own had been stolen long ago. Nothing to hide you, everything on display as he trailed a gloved finger along your knee. It made you shiver again as he slowly moved forward.

"You are quite irresistible in this state, bleeding and in tears… Aw, how delicate you must be." He mocked slightly, "Poor girl, poor girl. Maybe we should get you back to the kitchen. Warm milk and cookies for you and off to bed? It is so much easier for both of us if we are honest with one another."

"That is the thing you need in a relationship, honesty or that is what most people say. I would rather have passion." He murmured in your ear as the knife caressed your cheek. You feel that weakness still sit inside you, holding back violent sobs. The pain, humiliation, and the way he was making you want to pounce on him despite everything was driving you crazy. Maybe you enjoyed the way he made you hurt, maybe this shift was closer to what you were used to. You would rather be anywhere else.

Gripping your thigh now, Spy looked down on you as traced the knife along where your femoral artery would be. A dark chuckle escaping as he looked at your tightly closed eyes and mouth loosely holding around the gag. It was taking everything to remain still. A knife there was something you didn't want as you knew death would come fast if you were cut.

The knife was tossed aside as he gripped your face, slowly kissing along your jaw and working his hand down between your legs as he massaged the place where the knife had been held. It was a sudden shift, his hungry mouth on you as you whine under him. It hurt to be so needy, the touch was welcome as you took the lovely feeling until his fingers dug into one of the cuts.

A shriek came from behind the gag as you writhed slightly beneath him. He laughed against your skin pulled the bloody hand to wipe it around the gag, some getting in your mouth and on your tongue before. He hunched over your form as he quit hurting you purposefully, moving to slide his hand downward.

Spy's eyes burned into your flesh as he slowly rubbed at the bundle of nerves between your legs. You tried to remain stoic now as he toyed with you, teeth gritting on the plastic.

"I have been wondering for a while, although a bit selfishly. Did you stay so long out of strategy or just because you wanted to stay?" He quickened the pace on your clit, making you growl.

Everything was warmer as you took heavier breaths through your nose, ignoring the pleasure as he went to kiss your chest. Moving he teased and pulled on you, making a quiet moan slip. Thus began the full assault as he went up to pull the gag away. His hand speeding up in way that had your mouth forming a silent scream.

"I suppose that feels good then?" He quipped before pulling his hand away, making you look directly at him.

"Are kidding me? If you're going to do it, at least do it fully." You scoffed as your privates pulsed with need and your body felt cold without him touching it. Rolling your hips, you whined as you ground up against the bulge with his clean dress pants. A gruff noise escaped him as he frowned.

"I don't think you realize what a punishment is." He scoffed a bit.

"What do you want then? To teach me a lesson? Pay attention to me, make me want to stay with you. Nothing is exciting though! I liked it better when we were both out there." Eyes rolling a bit as you worked harder to drive him as crazy as you feel. Pent up, tired of waiting, looking for escape.

He moved his face down, lips against yours while his hand went to grab your hind end and kneading it in his hand. The way he was rubbing against you had you grunting into his mouth as you both put in the work. His hand went to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down before slipping a condom on. Both of you were panting unable to stop at this point as he slid into you. Groans came from both of you, you gasped and he placed his hands on the bed beside your head.

Two bodies panting and gasping as you bucked upwards into his thrusts as you cried out. It was hard to move with the way you were held down by the restraints, but your hips moved up against him. His own hips pumping in and out of you as you curled your hands into the sheets.

"A-ah! Fuck, you're so tight- Hmm, so needy for me…" He sighed into your ear, he was setting a growing pace as the sounds of your bodies echoed through the room. It was intense as skin smacked against skin, sweat beginning to burn the fresh cuts and even open some of them.

"Spy- Spy, spy, please, I can't- I'm so close, please!" You were whining in an almost pathetically high pitch way. He thrust faster as he feel you squeezing tightly on him, bucking into your clenching insides as he gasped. You were right on the edge.

Murmuring in your ear as he smiled, "Cum for me and prove that you're mine. No one else is going to ever make you feel this good." You twitched when he whispered huskily to you, breath hitching in your throat when you orgasmed.

His own pace stuttering as he cursed above you and soon slowed with more shallow thrusts, making you catch your breath when he stilled above you. His own release having hit him as he slowly pulled out laid beside you before lighting up a cigarette and lowering it down to you. Taking a drag, you blew out smoke and sighed. "Next time you want to get kinky, you could just ask."

"I think just throwing it on you like this is better, oui?" He chuckled as he took a drag himself and relaxed against the metal frame of the bed as you rested your head on him slightly.

"Hah, whatever you say. Spice is nice, but a little bit of vanilla would be nice." You muttered.

"Another minute and I can untie you for a round two. That can be as vanilla as you want." His hand stroking your hair.

"That would be more than appreciated. " The cuts, they still hurt as you lay there, looking up at him as he smoked. It seemed peaceful, but all of this was like chess. As soon as he let your arms free, you would probably grab the knife on the table by the bed and a power struggle would begin anew.

#tf2 spy #tf2 #yandere tf2 #x reader #yandere #reader insert #spy x reader #yandere x reader #lemon #knife play #commission #my writing

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bee-kathony · 6 years ago

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Formerly Fraser - Ch. 9 “A Second Chance”

written by @julesbeauchamp & @curlsgetdemgurls

a/n: the response to this story has been absolutely amazing, we can’t thank you enough for each and every comment! just the epilogue to go!

Claire’s hands came up to cup his cheeks, pulling him down further to her. She could hardly still believe he was here -- today of all days, but now wasn’t the time for questions.

“I’ve thought of nothin’ else, but yer body stretched out,” Jamie mumbled against her lips, “Naked and mine.”

Claire took a step backwards until her legs hit the bed and she sat down, looking up at Jamie, “I’m yours… forever.”

“Aye, I’m no lettin’ ye get away this time, Sassenach. Never again...I was a fool,” Jamie grinned as he came down on his knees, his hands on her thighs pushing the material of her nightgown up. Her legs were trembling as he spread them slowly apart, opening her up.

“I haven’t um --” she stammered, leaning back on her elbows as Jamie placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh. “No one’s done this to me in a very long time,” she said shyly.

“I hope twas me that was the last, mo nighean,” he nipped at her skin, brushing his stubble along her thigh as she always liked.

“It’s possible,” she teased, running a hand through his thick curls. Her breath hitched as he hooked both fingers in her panties and she lifted her hips to help him take them off. Her nightgown was bunched around her waist and she stared down at Jamie who was looking up at her from between her thighs. “Please,” she whispered and then he was there. In the most intimate place, his tongue was licking lightly in small strokes as his finger slid inside.

“Jesus H.,” she sighed, leaning back on her elbows, her head lolled to the side as she watched him. His head bobbed up and down and the sounds he was making was driving her mad. Claire knew she wouldn’t last much longer if he continued like this, but she had no strength to push him away and bring him up to her. So instead, she gave in. Parting her legs wider, she pressed a hand to the back of his head and held him steady, letting moans of her own mix with his.

In no time, she was crying out his name, “Jamie Jamie Jamie,” her breathing heavy and she opened her eyes to slits as she saw him wipe his mouth on the back of his hand. “Come here,” she opened her arms for him and he crashed into her.

Hands raced to rid each other of their remaining clothes. In fact, Jamie was still dressed in his wedding attire and it was only just now as she helped him unbutton that she realized this. She shook her head to dispel the thoughts that she was sleeping with someone else’s man away -- Jamie was hers, always had been and always will be.

Jamie laughed as he stood up near the edge of the bed, pulling on his belt that held up his kilt and it fell to the floor with a thud. A true scotsman, he stood before her now, naked and clearly wanting her.

“Do ye want me, Claire?” He asked, climbing onto the bed, positioning himself on top of her.

“Yes,” she slid her hand between their bodies, taking hold of his cock. “Yes I want you.”

As Jamie pressed forward, she guided him home. It was relief that they both felt in that moment. Of finally being together -- in every sense of the word. There was no one in between them now and there was nothing that would separate them.

“Harder,” she begged, wrapping one leg around his waist to push him deeper. “Oh, God!”

Jamie’s hips rolled with an unrelenting force behind them, never yielding, always pushing. His mouth was sloppy and hot on hers, capturing her moans in his mouth. “Oh God, oh Claire!” He had her speared to the bed, body and soul open to him for the taking and he took it.

Claire wrapped her arms around his back, her hands trailing up and down his body, desperate to feel him in her hands. To feel how real this was. “I’m gonna--” she cried, her eyes squeezing shut as Jamie hit that one spot inside her that made her see fireworks.

There were tears on her face and she realized this as Jamie pressed his thumb against her cheeks, wiping them away. His hips stilled as he came, repeating her name as a prayer until finally he lay on top of her, their heartbeats synced.

“We’ve still got it, aye?” Jamie grinned as he lifted up on his arms and pulled out of her.

“Always have, Fraser,” she laughed, her hand resting over her stomach. “If I knew it’d be this good, I would have never let you leave that hotel room.”

“Was it no good then?” He rolled to his side, his head propped on one hand while his other traced lazy circles around her breasts.

“Oh, it was amazing,” she assured him. “But it felt different this time -- like it used to be.”

“Because I ken I have yer heart as ye have mine, Sassenach,” he kissed her deeply, lingering in the taste of her. “Blood of my blood, ye ken.”

“Back in London, I thought…” She looked at him, “I thought we were starting over, in a way. I mean, I know we were both drunk but I know you, even alcohol couldn’t make you follow a woman into her hotel room, I thought we were kind of getting back together. But you left that morning.”

Jamie looked down, ashamed, “Aye, I did.”

“Why?” She lifted up his chin to make him look at her, “And why did you leave me that note? How did you want me to interpret that?”

“When I woke wi’ ye in my arms, I felt so happy...So damn happy,” He touched her cheek, “I remembered how it was not to feel hollow or sad, longing for somethin’ I could never have again. I didna want to leave ye, I swear but then I remembered I had failed our marriage once, I couldna risk to do it again and hurt ye. I ken it wasna the best move to simply disappear, even less leavin’ ye that note but I dinna want ye to think it had been just one time like that, just for pleasure.”

“Well that’s exactly what I thought,” Claire admitted quietly, her voice almost cracking. “You made me feel cheap.”

“I’m sorry, Claire. Truly, I am. I never thought ye’d want me again...I got scared because the one thing I had wanted most in life was finally happenin’ and I didn’t know what to do. How to handle things… And I handled them poorly.”

“Then why did you rush into the wedding?” She watched him, not sure she truly wanted to know the answer to her question.

“I was angry after what happened at the house after yer date wi’ Arthur…’Tis no’ excuse and I had no right to be but I was. I thought ye truly didna want me, I thought I might as well finally give Annalise what she wanted, after all, I didn’t think you’d unhappy to finally get rid of me for good.”

“Get rid of you for good? Our marriage failed once because we didn’t talk or communicate enough. Do you realise we need to start doing it now or we’ll make the same mistakes twice and I don’t want us to do that.”

“I ken, mo nighean donn,” He whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

“Can ye forgive me? It was unfair to everyone me almost goin’ through wi’ this wedding...I never loved Annalise, I can’t possibly spend the rest of my life wi’ her.”

“From this day forward, we must communicate always, Jamie,” Claire looked up at him earnestly. “There is not room for secrets or lies anymore.”

“I promise ye,” He leaned down and sealed their lips to reaffirm his promise.

“Did you really never love Annalise?”

“Never, Sassenach. I ken how bad that sounds but ‘tis the truth...We were never compatible her and I. No’ only didn’t we have anything in common, there’s only one woman I loved in my life and she’s next to me right now.”

Claire’s mouth curled up into a smile, “I love you.”

“I love you, a nighean donn. I have loved ye from the moment I saw ye, I will love ye ’til time itself is done, and so long as you are by my side, I am well pleased wi’ the world.”

“Come here,” Claire moved slightly and wrapped her arms around him. Closing her eyes to hold him.

Jamie held her tightly, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. She couldn’t help but let the tears roam free. After all, she had waited ten years to be in his arms like this again. Ten years where whenever she had wanted to cry, nothing came up. And those weren’t sad tears.

“Dinna cry, a nighean,” He whispered, stroking her back, “Please dinna weep.”

“I’m sorry,” She looked up at him, smiling through the tears, “I’m just so happy right now.”

“Aye, so am,” He wiped her cheeks, smiling and kissed her again, “Dinna move.”

Claire watched as Jamie got up and made his way towards her dresser. He looked at her for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to her jewelry box. He opened it and carefully took her wedding ring placed in its original velvet pouch. He walked to the bed again, sitting down, “Gimme yer hand, Claire.”

Looking at him, her vision blurred again and she obliged, holding out her shaking hand.

“Da mi basia mille,” He whispered, sliding the ring back where it belonged. His own tears strolling down his cheeks.

Claire cupped his cheeks, pulling his face closer to hers and kissed him. Slowly and tenderly, moving to straddle him. “Give me a thousand kisses,” she leaned in, placing one of a thousand kisses to his lips.

His hands gripped her waist, holding her steady on top of him as she began to roll her hips, “And I’ll give ye a thousand more, Sassenach.”

******

“What am I going to say to Annalise at work now?” Claire was still lying next to Jamie, the sheet haphazardly covering their legs.

“Nothin’, this isna supposed to be office talk,” he stroked her hair back, “And I need to talk to her first, I dinna think she is all too happy about how today turned out.”

“Well I know that but I doubt she’ll be as professional,” Claire sighed, nuzzling his neck.

“Then just fire her, ye can do that no?” He grinned, looking down at her.

Claire looked at him, bursting into a laugh, “As tempting as it is, it would probably make things worse, darling.”

“Ye’re right,” He grinned, kissing her lips briefly, “She’ll be fine, dinna worry about her. She probably hates me but I’m sure in no’ time, she’ll have found a rich lad ready to spend all his money on her and she won’t show up at work again.”

“Most likely,” Claire turned onto her stomach, resting her chin on his chest, “Can we stop talking about her now?”

“Aye,” He stroked her cheek, smiling.

“You know…” She placed kissed on his stomach, “The space in the closet is still empty if you want to fill again with your clothes, it’s all yours.”

“I’d be verra happy to, mo nighean donn,” He smiled, stroking her curls back. “I’ll go tomorrow and fetch my things. I’ve missed this house.”

“Have you missed other things about this house?” Claire smirked, lightly tracing her hand down his chest.

“Aye, I’ve missed the shower,” Jamie laughed. “Great water pressure, ye ken?”

“Oh I ken,” Claire said softly, leaning in to kiss him and then pulled back, climbing off the bed and taking him with her. “Want to revisit that part of the house?”

“God yes,” he moaned and followed her into the bathroom.

A moment later, Claire was standing under the hot water -- her second shower of the day -- but this time Jamie’s hands were massaging her scalp with shampoo. It was the most glorious feeling to have someone wash your hair, let alone Jamie.

“I love the way the soap looks on yer skin,” Jamie leaned down, kissing her neck. “The way it feels so slippery under my hands.”

“I bet you’ll feel slippery too,” Claire grinned, turning around in his arms and gathering soap suds from her hair and bringing them to his pubic hair. “You need a wash down there right?”

“Christ, Sassenach,” Jamie muttered through his teeth, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as Claire took him in her hand and began to work him at a maddening pace.

Once they had both rinsed off the remaining suds and dried off, Claire laid back down on the bed, wrapped in a towel while Jamie went to grab them a couple glasses of whisky. She felt like she was on her honeymoon -- doing nothing but make love and lounging around.

“Jamie?” She called loudly.

“Aye, a nighean?” He walked back into the room, smiling. Holding two glasses of whisky, “Somethin’ a miss?”

“No,” She grinned, looking at him, “I was just thinking that maybe we should take some days off somewhere?”

“‘Tis a good idea,” He sat down on the bed and kissed her cheek, “Anywhere ye’d like to go?”

Sitting up, Claire took a glass from his hand and sipped it, “I don’t know...Maybe we could go to the highlands? Or the seaside? I don’t think it matters, really. You know as well as I do that we won’t leave the hotel,” She chuckled.

“I canna fault ye there,” He kissed her and licked his lips, “Whisky always taste better from yer lips, do ye ken that?”

“No, I did not,” She grinned, taking a sip, “Now I do.”

Jamie put his glass down on the table beside him and leaned back, resting one arm behind his head and the other around her waist. Claire sat back on the bed and watched him, looking up at his face. She observed how over the course of ten years his body had mostly stayed the same but now there was an even more defined quality about him. He had more white hairs and a few more wrinkles, but she loved every one of them.

They were starting over, a new beginning and this time -- she knew it would last.

#formerly fraser #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fanfiction #FF #chapter 9 #em and jules write the things #divorce au #no longerrrrrrr #well kinda

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thesilverdragoon · 5 years ago

Text

Animal

“The Ninth Vare.

Twas a place many would make pilgrimage to during the warmer months of the year, along with others just like it.”

“What were they?”

“Monuments erected by the Holy See throughout Coerthas, to inspire the zealous masses, and to instill the authority of their might, and the church. Time, like with all those who stand within it and before it, has ravaged these monuments, these towers rather, utterly.”

“And that’s all that’s left now? A lonely cairn out in the middle of the highlands?”

“That’s right. But, it was one place that we could always meet. Especially during harder days such as these. I remember...”

__________

The sky had grown dark in a rather short span of time. A blizzard had swept through the western Coerthan highlands that night. Much like all the other nights within the past several years.

The black dragon’s wings pushed against the winds, unshaken by them. Why would they be? They were wings that of a mighty beast, one born and raised there all his life. He knew them, and they knew him.

Down below, mist covered most of the already-snow-ridden-land, making it more eerie than it already was whenever dusk fell. Even up above, Lev could hardly see anything under him, or even in front of him. But he knew the mountains well enough. He knew where he was going.

He didn’t need sight for that.

After a while, the collapsed stone monument came into view, the dim flames of candlelight billowing at the foot of the plaque that remained slotted in the wall at the foot of the steps. Magic likely kept them from going out. The winds were calmer around the Ninth Vare itself. One could easily stand or kneel there, undisturbed, as they prayed.

Lev slowed and lowered himself to the earth, landing with a heavy, but somehow still gentle thump in the deep snow. Immediately a trail that had been made up the hill caught his attention. It was fresh. Someone had just come up here.

His gaze followed the path all the way up to the stone steps, a lone figure standing there, coat fluttering in the wind.

“Well bugger me,” He snorted, leaning down, his wings twitching and becoming shorter and shorter before becoming a part of his back once again. The claws and the teeth receded into something more ‘normal’, the scales faded back into skin.

The scent, as musty and sweaty as it was, hit him like a truck. What were the odds? At long last… Though, he had come purely on a feeling anyway.

When he reached the foot of the steps, he paused, curious to whether or not he should even wait for a reaction. In the end though, he smiled gently and made his way up on the opposite side until he stood before the stone plaque bearing the crests of the four High Houses of Ishgard.

“How long has it been now? Ten, twenty, thirty years, maybe more?” Lev began, that familiar lilt of humor still in his voice. “I’m afraid I’m starting to lose count. And I can see why dragons do the same. Time is nothing but a moment to them.”

Vesevont kept his jaw steeled and his eyes firmly on the crest in front of them, the firelight from the offering candles melted in piles alongside the stone monument flicking off of its rough surface.

Neither of them spoke for a time, until Lev turned his head to glance at his once dear friend.

“You’ve grown old.” He said.

Vesevont’s nostrils flared briefly as he furrowed his brows. His eyes looked sunken in, and so did his cheeks, for that matter. And there were wrinkles and many scars, here and there.

But his eyes were the same. Still alight. Still blazing. Still piercing as they had been.

“You haven’t changed your hair in thirty years.” Lev grinned.

“Thirty years and those are the words you decided to first speak to me since you abandoned us that night?” Ves answered harshly, turning his head now to look back at the other man.

Lev still held his youth. He looked as though he hadn’t aged a single day.

“I admit...I didn’t put as much thought into it as I should have.” Despite the rough tone of voice he was being met with, Lev still held a smile. “Where have you been all this time?” He knew the answer, but he asked regardless.

“Around.” Ves said quickly, looking down at the floor. “Here and there, for years now.” He kept a stiff frown on his face, eyes downcast. “Somehow, I never ran into you. Not once.”

“Somehow. Things can play out strangely like that, I’ve found. You certainly seem as though you’d accomplished much while I was away.”

The knight sighed heavily and looked over his shoulder, back into the dark mist and the blizzard blowing right over this place, right over them.

Lev too looked towards it, brows furrowing a little. He eyed Ves again shortly after. “I had run into some companions of yours when I made my way to the south in search of you. I had hoped they would have been able to help me locate you, but alas. I did receive a few clues in terms of more...recent events, that ultimately led me back to here-”

Ves immediately went rigid. His whole body about as still as a statue.

“I don’t know who you mean.” “There’s no use in denying it now old man. I’ve heard you’ve been plenty busy ever since making your way south. I heard the whole story. Missing son, traveling down so far south as Limsa Lominsa, meeting several new friends there, finding a place to live, getting a job- you really HAVE been busy, haven’t you?” It was only then that Ves dared to look Lev in the eyes. He was confused. What was he getting at? “...And so I have been,” He spoke slowly, cautiously, a wary expression to accompany it all.

“And so have I heard the tale of the knight that occasionally lives within Anyx Trine amongst fellow dragons. With his companion hatchling, I believe. Or, something like that.”

Just how much DID Lev know? Ves wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if it was even a good thing.

“Why did you come find me then? You want something. I can hear it in your voice. If you’re going to say something then just say it.”

“You haven’t changed a bit have you, you old aldgoat? At least, in your stubbornness.” Lev shook his head almost in disbelief. He beckoned for the knight to follow him as he sat down at the top of the steps, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, gazing outwards.

Ves did the same, slower, but, eventually settled into a similar position.

After a few more moments, Lev spoke again. “At first I sought you out only because I longed to be reunited with someone I called friend. A very dear friend, mind. Not that that has changed, of course. And, in hearing of your adventures and travels here and there throughout the years, moreso the recent ones...I find myself a bit...troubled I suppose.” “Troubled?” Ves asked, ears lowering slightly. “How so?”

“Well,” Lev pursed his lips, looking down at his boots briefly. “Namely the part about how you’d grown into somewhat of an arse.”

That much threw Ves off entirely. Even physically. He blinked a few extra times, unsure if he had heard that correctly. “What?-”

Lev frowned now, “I believe you know what I’m referring to.”

He did. Ves knew. At that he stood up, shaking his head. “I knew this was a mistake. Coming out here.” “Did you now? And how did you know to come out here? I can’t imagine someone had told you where I was going. Even I wasn’t very sure myself earlier in the day. Hadn’t discussed it with anyone.” Lev got up and followed after him. Ves was dodging him. “Where are you running off to now you old codger? Out into the snow? You’ll freeze to death-” “Sometimes I wonder if that’s better than listening to whatever drivel it is the lot of you have to offer.” Ves hissed, brushing past him and down the steps. Lev went after him, surprised at the strength of the reaction. “Wait-” He reached out for the old man’s shoulder but was met with a hand slapping his own away.

“Don’t, touch me.” “Vesevont!” Lev exclaimed, more in shock than actual anger. “What’s happened to you?” He’d always known the man to be rigid with many things, but this felt entirely different. This felt hostile, like a caged animal hissing and biting at anyone who dared to come near. “Tell me.”

“I don’t believe it’s any of your business.”

“I do believe that is it.” “Oh!” Ves paused at the foot of the steps, laughing almost, and looking over his shoulder at Lev. “And how do you figure that? I’m quite curious as to how you even CAME to that conclusion in the first place. Perhaps your brain really has frozen into something so hard as a rock.”

Lev’s mouth fell agape slightly. His ears pinned back, “Do you even hear yourself talking? The words dribbling out of that hole in your head you call a mouth? I’m almost convinced your ears are so packed with shite you can’t hear yourself or even think straight.”

“Did THEY send you?” “What???” “You know damn well WHAT and damn well WHO. Is that what they want? To deliver some more words about how I’m just a foolish old man without any IDEA about anything?” Ves snorted like an enraged bull, holding his head about as high.

Lev stood there, still unsure that this was even real to begin with. It felt wrong.

“...Vesevont something’s happened to you. You’ve changed, and I want to know why. Don’t I even deserve THAT much?”

“I’d wager not. One doesn’t just leave without a word for thirty years normally and then expect to come back as though everything’s fine.”

Now he was getting angry. “Let us forget the past for one moment and look at what’s going on now you stubborn fool-” “No, let us not.” Ves dramatically turned around and began walking through the trail in the snow he had made prior to coming there.

Lev chased after him, once again reaching out for him and pulling him back roughly, and hard enough to spin him around to face him. “This isn’t the Vesevont I know. Where has he gone? Please, tell me so that I may FIND him.” He kept a firm grip on the knight’s upper arms to keep him in place, and so that he couldn’t move away.

“You want to know where he’s gone?” Ves sneered uncharacteristically. “He’s died. He perished years ago, Lev. I suppose he’s out there somewhere buried under the ice. Maybe you’ll find a frozen corpse or something if you’re lucky. You can bury him too someplace nice if you’d like.”

Lev’s lip twitched and he shook his head, frowning about as hard as Ves was now. “No- no, that isn’t so. There I am, down in the south, hearing stories of how you’ve said horrible things about people who offered you hands in kindness, right to their faces even. Spat on everything they’ve offered you, in their own homes, against their family- Vesevont-” He almost shook the old man a few times. “Vesevont please, tell me why!” “You look as though time has not laid a single finger upon you. I should fully expect then that it has not laid a finger on your brain as well.”

Lev’s fingers dug in. “Ves-” “Then you met with them. You walked into that...that, house,” Ves continued, the word ‘house’ uttered with such disdain, as though he barely considered it so. “You saw those THINGS that lived there. The beasts from the Void-” “I saw them, yes. And they, me. Vesevont you’ve made a horrible mistake, they-” “-are MONSTERS, LEV. WHAT PART OF THAT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? BECAUSE THEY CLEARLY DO NOT, AS WELL. Harboring these MONSTROSITIES and believing their lies- believing they’re FAMILY even- who DOES THAT?? LEV?? WHO?!” “We aren’t all meant to walk the same path Ves-” “No, no certainly not, but I CANNOT abide by those who so WILLINGLY CHOOSE to walk alongside EVIL. Now let me GO-” Ves pulled hard and broke free from the other man’s grasp, turning again to walk down the hill and through the snow, despite the fact he could not see where he was going.

He didn’t care.

He’d been doing that his entire life as it was.

Lev stood in his place, shaking his head and bringing a hand up to the side of his face. This couldn’t be happening. “And were dragons not once depicted as such evil beings?!” He called out. The old knight wasn’t stopping. Lev ran after him, trying to get in front of him, but Ves angrily marched on, refusing to listen.

“Were they nothing more than devils, hellbent on destroying us and our home?! You’ve seen so for yourself that that was not true Vesevont!!”

“I don’t need to spend more than a few moments in that house to know they’re tricking those two IDIOTS into an unpleasant demise-” “Vesevont you don’t KNOW THAT-” “No, no certainly not. I certainly don’t. It’s how I’ve lived for so long after all.” “What does that have to do with anything?!-” They continued down the hill with their back and forth, like two bickering hags.

“It’s funny you should suddenly care so much about this- It isn’t as though I was insulting YOU, but you seem to be taking it as such. Why IS THAT, I wonder?” Ves snapped at Lev again, finally pausing to confront him.

“Because you’re being completely and utterly ridiculous is why! You’ve never been this harsh before...not in this way! And you won’t tell me why that is! I KNOW you know why- who else would?! Have you grown so bitter that this is all you’ve been reduced to? A nasty, ungrateful-”

“Don’t you-”

“-vindictive-”

“LEV-”

“-pathetic excuse for a WORM-” There came a sudden roar as Ves launched himself right at the man, who thankfully was able to catch him by the wrists just in time. Though, it was a bit of a struggle to hang onto him.

They struggled briefly, the prior refusing to calm down. “VESEVONT STOP THIS-”

“YOU’VE COME ALL THIS WAY- AFTER THIRTY YEARS-” Ves screamed as pulled and pushed against him but nothing was working. He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t run. He couldn’t move. “TO TELL ME YOU KNOW BETTER? TRAITOR-” “I LEFT BECAUSE I SAW WHERE ALL THIS WOULD LEAD- I DIDN’T WANT ANY OF IT! AND I WANTED SO BADLY FOR YOU TO COME WITH ME! BUT I KNEW YOU NEVER WOULD!”

Ves raised a leg and kicked Lev in the stomach hard enough to get him to let go, back away immediately after and almost falling himself. He maintained his balance however.

Lev let out a hacking cough as he went down on his knee and looked up, sharp teeth bared and teal eyes almost shining brightly. Scales began to form on his neck, and his nails sharpened slightly, but he maintained enough control.

“Look at you- are you going to call ME the monster? You with- with teeth and claws and- whatever the hell ELSE? We were meant to rise ABOVE THIS Lev, not fall SLAVES to our every whim and want like ANIMALS!”

Maybe it was the tone, or maybe it was the words, Lev wasn’t entirely sure himself. But he felt hurt. Like something deep inside had been cut by a sharpened knife.

He panted for several seconds, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. His eyes were stinging and he couldn’t believe how bad he felt now. He’d heard words like that before.

Just...just not from-

“Then...” He started, sounding shaky, “...then perhaps that truly is all we are, as they say here in our home. Nothing more than slaves to our natures. Our course set out for us from birth, carved into the cold stone and eternal.”

Lev barely managed to hold his head up to look at the old knight.

“You had once denied such a belief. You were once a testament to a different kind of truth. That we could all change if we so truly desired in our hearts.

And I believed you.”

The man paused, his breath hitching as the icy winds blew over them both. Consuming any and all warmth, making everything throb and ache.

“…I thought better of you, old friend.

...But I guess to you, we really are all animals, aren’t we?”

Vesevont glared at him, with something unholy burning in his eyes, something not born of magic. But something born of time and a troubled life.

The knight turned his back on the heretic, walking away without stopping, without looking back, into the fog. Into the great big nothing.

Lev sat there in the snow for what felt like an eternity. The ice burned against him but he found himself unable to move. Instead, he squeezed his eyes tight and kept his head down, shoulders quivering.

The emotions would pass, soon enough. He’d grown used to it.

Sooner or later, they would go away, and he could carry on.

For a while.

__________

“...We are...hungry...” “Not now...not now...”

#the first part is a kind of lev addressing mak #the last bit?? well it's not hard to guess #irony comes back and decks him in the face #this was getting a lil painful to write cuz lmao ive not made this asshole this horrible before and its like cringe #dovah writing

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rogue-of-broken-time · 7 years ago

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Discord happenings from Day 2:

-Some cute pets were shared!! :D

-PANIC

-FIRE AND PANIC

-AAAAAAAAAAAH

-Some good nice PMA™ reminders for everyone to take care of themselves during the aforementioned fire that honestly made me very happy to see :D

-"y'know, for someone with a broken clock as an icon you sure do have good timing for making this server"

-@isa-ghost shared some sweet bunker HC's and lore (before everyone realized I was listening in to the voice chat, then they proceeded to pretend to theorize since it was the Theorist Library VC lol)

-"rOGUE STOP" (Me: ":D") "I SEE YOU SMILING IN THE CHAT ROGUE"

-Nora joined the party also!! (And then me and Booper were semi-joking about how we need Fin and Lumi to join in since we have us, Nora, and Huffle in the server and we could finally Unite™)

-People heard my voice for the first time hehehe :3 (I almost wasn't going to join in because my voice is Atrocious but I couldn't resist lol)

-One thing led to another and now there's a Cards Against Humanity channel. (I've been informed that this was grave mistake on my part, but I'm… actually slightly curious to see what might come out of that lol)

-And a new development: some solid Lumi Appreciation™ (*cough cough* @lum1natrix *cough*)

All in all, 'twas a good day thus far! This is turning out to be much more fun than I thought, and again I'm wowed at how many people have joined so far?? I think there's like, actually 80 people and I'm kinda in shock that so many people like it?? But I've laughed a lot harder today than I have for a long time, so thank you guys :3

(We're always letting in new people if you wanna join! It gets fun at the peak of the day, haha. The link is right here!)

#rogue made a discord!#jacksepticeye #jse community

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chloes-yellow-cup · 7 years ago

Text

Nowish - Part 7

Bechloe. Staubrey. Bellas Squared/Stechlobree.

A story in which I convinced myself by accident that this could work. Let me try and convince you too.

Nowish Master Post - Everything on one page.

A Shared Lifetime - All my fics

Recommended Mood Music on Spotify. Artistic license taken with song release years.

Note on the links: The ones about music lead to YouTube vids for fun. Rest are GIFs or links to whatever gift idea I have.

Bella Reunion 2017

~B~

Saturday, June 24th, 2017

Beca settled heavily into a chair. “Oh god, I don’t think I can dance anymore.” She had never been more thankful she’d decided to go with her sneakers for the reunion.

“What’s the matter, Shawshank? Married life making you slow?” Amy frowned and eyed her as Beca laid her head on the table for a second. “I’d have thought it would have taken a few more years for that to happen.”

“Unlike some people, I have been dancing for the last three hours.” Beca sat up and flagged down one of the wait staff and ordered a beer. “It’s now time to drink.”

Amy nodded sadly. “And turned you into an alcoholic. As expected.”

“What do you mea—Never mind.” Beca shook her head. “I know how this goes. You make weird statements and confuse me and I end up confessing something embarrassing by accident.”

“Aw, but that’s the fun part.” Amy sighed. “And without Bumper here, you know I need to keep distracted until I can get back to the hotel and-“

“Do not finish that sentence if you don’t want to wear my beer, Amy.”

“You don’t have your beer yet.”

“Damnit.”

“But I’ll take it easy on you. Don’t want you to get all worked up thinking about my sexy ass.”

Beca rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Thank you, Amy.”

Amy slammed back the rest of her drink and pushed up out of her seat. “Time to see a man about a horse.”

Beca watched her walk away then looked back out at the dance floor, smiling at the rest of her Bellas. They were the biggest knot of people on the dance floor, though, surprisingly, not the loudest. The reunion this year was back at Barden, so there was a bigger than normal turnout, with many former members jumping at the chance to see their old stomping grounds.

Beca smiled as Legacy’s mom showed off her signature move which shifted to laughter when she noticed Emily standing to the side with a slightly horrified and embarrassed expression on her face when Chloe jumped next to her and copied it exactly. Katherine Junk was probably one of the coolest parents she had ever met, though Beca never wanted to make her mad after she’d heard about the chokehold over George Michael.

It was weird, being back on campus and not having to run off to class. Or rehearsal, she thought idly as Stacie and Aubrey swung past her line of sight. She had to admit, she sort of missed the radio station. Not the CD stacking part, but when Luke had finally let her DJ regularly her sophomore year. That she missed. She even, sort of but not really, missed Jesse and his movie chatter. They didn’t get to talk nearly often enough.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Cynthia Rose dropped down on her left and Beca smiled.

“Hey. Nothing, really. Just thinking of what it’s like being here and not having to…” her fingers waved through the air. “Rush anywhere. Do anything. Be…”

“Responsible? So tired you can’t see straight?” Cynthia Rose paused. “Not like that last was a problem for me, exactly.”

Beca nodded and laughed. “Exactly. Adulting is weird.” Her beer arrived and she dropped enough money on the tray to cover a generous tip. “They just… turn you loose. Like you’re just… ready. Done baking. Go forth into the world, young student.” She shook her head. “I so wasn’t ready.”

“You seemed to have landed on your feet.”

Beca smiled again, softer this time. “I got lucky.” Cynthia Rose snorted. “Not like that, perv.” But she grinned with her. “I knew I had you guys if I stumbled. Even if I’d had to do it without those 3 lunatics I drove across the country with. I knew I had support, even from my dad, there at the end.”

“Married life mellowed you, Becs.” Cynthia Rose told her. “This is the longest, most positive thing I have ever heard you say.” Her expression turned sly. “Except when Stacie recited that speech you made to Aubrey on her birthday.” She laughed when Beca pushed on her shoulder.

Beca picked at the label on her beer, but continued. “I also got lucky with my job. This could have been a lot harder than it was.” She sipped from her bottle. “Should have been harder. So, I’m grateful to all you aca-bitches for not kicking me to the curb when I was an insufferable…”

“Smart ass? Cynthia Rose raised an eyebrow. “Tiny dictator who made us all run laps when she was in a bad mood?”

“That all works.” Beca tipped her bottle at her. “Legacy always said her mom told her that kind of stuff all the time. ‘The Bellas will be your family.’ I was so glad that she wasn’t wrong. And that my… fear? That seems to fit my main emotion our senior year… didn’t cause us to lose the chance for upcoming generations to be Bellas.”

“Well, most of that was Muffgate, but… I get what you mean, though I didn’t think of that until we were at Worlds.” Cynthia Rose sat back in her chair. “I thought I knew. But it took seeing all the other Bellas there, ready to give their all for us, who almost lost it all over a stupid mistake, before I realized, really realized, what we had become.”

Beca said it with her. “Family.”

“That’s beautiful.”

Cynthia Rose and Beca both jumped at the new voice and looked to their left. Cynthia Rose put her hand on her heart. “Lilly! Jesus! Where did you come from, girl?!”

Beca tried to stop her own pulse from racing. “I’ve given up asking. She just kind of… appears.” It was also usually the only time Lilly’s voice was audible without leaning closer than you really wanted to. Lilly smiled, like she knew what Beca was thinking. ‘Oh god, have you been a mind reader all this time? I’m so sorry for all the dirty thoughts I have ever had about Chloe when you’re around!’

Lilly just stared at her before she looked away, saying something Beca couldn’t hear this time. She looked over at Cynthia Rose who was closer.

“She asked about TWA™ and if she showed up this year.” Her eyes cut right and looked back at Beca. “And then something about having plastic sheeting stashed in the basement at the Bella house if we need it.”

Beca swallowed hysterical laughter. “No, she’s not here. Stacie says it’s because she’s afraid of me. Apparently my rant that first year was noticed.”

Cynthia Rose cocked her head and gave Beca a Look. “It was in the middle of the bar, at full volume, after your fifth drink. You jumped on your chair and yelled - I’m going to paraphrase here – ‘Where is That Whore Alice™? Bitch is a hoor’ – which you totally pronounced that way, Becs – ‘and I’m going to punch her in the tits for being mean to my best friends for three years.’”

Beca smirked. “Yeah that. Stacie heard from Aubrey that it got around, and may have scared her off.”

“Good. Though, if you need some help.” Cynthia Rose leaned forward. “I know people.”

Beca growled. “To take out the trash? Psh, nah.”

“Trash?”

Beca looked up as Jessica and Ashley took seats across the table, Jessica smiling after her question. Before she could answer, arms wrapped around her neck. She wondered what it meant that she knew it was Stacie by the size of the boobs against the back of her head as a chin rested on the top of it. “If Beca’s talking about trash at a Bellas reunion, we’re talking about That Whore Alice™.”

Flo walked past Stacie and sat down at the table. “In my country, the man that bought her would be trying to get his goat back.”

Beca laughed then patted the arms looped in front of her. “Aw, Stace. You do get me.”

“Stop sweet talking me when our wives are out of earshot.” Beca felt Stacie jump after a sharp smacking sound. ”Oops.”

“Sweetie, stop sweet talking Beca when your wife walks into earshot.” Aubrey took the seat on Beca’s right. “You know it makes Beca adorably flustered.”

Stacie shrugged around Beca’s head. “She is cute when she’s flustered.”

Beca just grinned and watched as the rest of her Bellas found spots at the table, dragging over chairs as necessary. Amy came back with a half empty bottle of tequila and a stack of red Solo cups.

“Oh god, no. Amy. Not…” Beca trailed off as the rest of them cheered. “I mean. Yay.”

Stacie kissed her cheek. “C’mon Becs, it’ll be like old times.” She let Beca go and pulled a chair over beside Aubrey.

“If I puke in the bushes ‘like old times’ someone is going to pay.” Beca noticed a look flash between Legacy and Cynthia Rose, whose eyebrow went up just a fraction. She hoped she’d remember to ask Legacy about it later but the outlook wasn’t good now that Amy was pouring ‘shots’ into the cups. They looked overly generous to be legitimately called ‘shots’.

“Don’t worry; I’ll hold your hair.” Chloe’s voice whispered in her ear before she settled herself on Beca’s lap, who immediately wound an arm around Chloe’s hip to hold her in place. “Again.”

“Thanks babe.”

As Amy passed out the drinks, Mrs. Junk (because really, Beca couldn’t call her anything else) came up. “Ooooh, tequila!” When Amy passed her a cup, she gave it to Legacy who gaped. “What? Don’t be shocked. You turn 21 soon enough. One won’t kill you.” The rest of the Bellas cheered as Amy poured another one for her. “I know this isn’t your first drop of alcohol, Em. I’m your mother, not blind.”

“It’s my first tequila?” Emily squeaked out. “If it helps?”

Once everyone had their cups, they all looked at Beca. She raised her glass, feeling love rising over her like a wave from all directions.

“Bellas for life!”

“BELLAS FOR LIFE!”

Beca shook her head and tossed the shot back, thinking that she almost didn’t have this in her life.

How stupid she’d been.

“Gross!” Emily stuck out her tongue. “Why would you ever…” She gulped the water her mother handed her.

How very lucky.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #staubrey #bellas squared #wlw #beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey posen #stacie conrad #anna kendrick #brittany snow #anna camp #alexis knapp #stechlobree #Pitch Perfect #bechloe fic #bellas fluff #Nowish #A Shared Lifetime

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phoenix-before-the-flame · 7 years ago

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The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Ok well no not really, that's a lie, there were two people stirring in the wee hours of night, thinking about their christmas past, present and future.

Merry Christmas @auroskhai ! Hope you're having a real good one today! And I got a pretty fluffy present for you right here! I hope you enjoy💖

"So what, you're telling me you never believed in Santa Claus? " Lucy scooted back into Natsu, sighing happily when she feels his warm chest against her back. She grabs his arm and drapes it over her waist, trying desperately to soak up some of his heat.

It's not like he needed all of it.

Natsu was always ridiculously hot, literally and in the other way that makes him don his trademark snarky grin whenever she said it. Cuddling with him in summer was like condemning herself to the deepest pits of hell but at least now in the winter's chill it was fully welcome.

He chuckled at her antics and hugged her close, pulling Lucy flush against him. He hissed when she evilly rubbed her frosty toes against his calf. Why doesn't she ever wear socks when she knows her feet get cold easily? He's pretty sure it's a deliberate thing, that mad woman.

"Well back home we didn't exactly have snow. Or a chimney, so there's that." Natsu relented his other arm to Lucy, deciding to abandon her pillow in favour of his bicep. It was gonna be dead by morning but it was worth the closeness, even if it meant waking up with her hair in his mouth.

"Plus the windows and doors had grills on 'em so he'd have to get through those," He explained. "And that sounded more like a thief to me when I was a kid." Natsu snorts at the sudden memory of Igneel's roaring laughter when he'd first come to that conclusion. Looking back on it now Natsu still felt he was right.

"Oh my god you thought Santa was a thief." Lucy deadpanned. "What about the tooth fairy, was she a thief too? Please tell me the easter bunny have rabies or something." He couldn’t see it but Natsu could feel the grin growing as she spoke. She wiggled like she wanted to turn over but otherwise, stayed as she was.

"Guy comes to my house in the dead of night, eats all my cookies and leaves after maybe leaving some presents if I'm good by his standards. Yeah he totally sounds like someone I should believe in."

"I bet you were a real grinch at Christmas time, huh?" Lucy mused, elbowing him in the stomach.

"I was still a saint!" Lucy snorted in disbelief. "Ask Wendy. She'll totally vouch for me. But you shouldn't rag on me, what about you? Did you ever believe in the jolly ol' fat guy or what?"

Natsu nosed her cheek, pushing aside stray blonde strands that tickled him into sneezing. Best not let that happen, once was enough for Lucy and she still won't forgive him for that. But she forgave him when he almost ran her over with his bike. And she said he was the weird one, honestly.

It was snowing outside, a light wave behind the frosted window just beyond the bed but it'd be a heavy blanket by morning. A thick, heavy blanket of cold that Natsu'd frolick through, creating snow-Happys and bombard her with when her back was undoubtedly turned. And probably rally in the neighbourhood kids while he was at it. He was really good with kids, and just seemed to attract wherever he went.

It was refreshing to say the least, how he made her appreciate the cold. Her mind drifted to somewhere else, fireplace always empty and locked up, only needing to look pretty like everything else in the house. Why use it when the house had perfectly good heating as it is? It was always warm there yet, inexplicably cold, and it grew colder yet when she innocently asked the question to the wrong person. Even when her mother told her otherwise, she still wouldn't forget.

"No, I didn't." She whispered. Lucy wiggled again and Natsu relinquished his hold on her waist for her to turn over, rolling on her side to face him. Her eyes were downcast, watching as her fingers ghosted over the bare mattress.

She never liked having the sheet on. It felt too smooth and always made it hard for her to sleep.

"Dad killed any sort of belief I might’ve had." Lucy wrinkled her nose. "And I think I might’ve killed it for a few kids at school." His hand found hers atop the mattress, tapping her knuckle thoughtfully. "Sounds like you were the real grinch." He joked, grabbing the blanket- worn, kinda holey but full of love- and threw it over their heads, landing on them with a heavy 'fwump'.

"You're a mean one, little miss grinch~" Natsu sang, bumping noses with her. Lucy glanced at him, a little smile on her lips as she let out a breathy giggle. He couldn’t do anything about her past, but he could at least lessen her guilt about things that happened. They weren't her fault anyways.

"But I'll admit, I might’ve lied about being a saint." She quirked a brow, the look dripping with sarcasm. "I was maybe a little bit of a grinch back then. So we can both share the title of being 'the mean one'."

"You're so thoughtful. " Lucy said, pinching his cheek. He didn't look it, but Natsu had very pinchable cheeks with just the right amount of squish between her fingertips when her hands, more often than not, found themselves on his face. And it especially didn't help when he grinned, like right now for example, it just made her want pinch them even harder. She thinks she might be developing a problem.

"I know." He said smugly, waggling his eyebrows. "But it's such a weird idea though, isn't it? A guy somehow flying all around the world delivering the perfect gift to each and every kid there is. I did physics Luce, that just ain't happening."

She hummed in agreement, reaching behind to tuck the blanket under her side. That little cold spot was freezing her butt off. "Well since it check out then its a good thing we grinches never believed in him. Else this revelation would've been a real shocker." Lucy surmised, brushing back his hair out of his eyes, to no avail. It just fell back , thick pink locks that didn't really to anything to block his tired yet happy green gaze.

She too could feel the sleep pulling at her from all sides and drooping her eyelids low. Natsu stifled a weak yawn, which was followed by a stronger, more powerful yawn.

"Am I boring you?" She teased, poking his chest.

"No I'm not." He managed through another yawn. "You're just making me sleepy s' all. You're comfy." Natsu inhaled deeply, nosing at her again. Her smell, she remembered him say, always relaxed him,made him feel calm and can always ease him to sleep. Weird but somehow incredibly heartwarming.

"Well ok then, we should try and get some sleep." "But I wanna stay up and talk some more." He protested, draping a leg over her as if to prevent her from any sort of escape.

"Fine. What're we gonna talk about then? Because it's your turn to carry the conversation. I don't think we can trash talk Santa anymore." "Never know until we try, right?" Lucy huffed as he rolled dragging her to rest half on top of him with a satisfied rumble, hand combing through mussed up hair before cradling her neck, hair bunching up beneath his fingers.

"We could do something me and Igneel always did. It was sort of an every night thing but," He shrugged. " it still works for the holidays."

"First you start off with 3 things you're grateful for right now and then you say 3 things that you want for the future. Not stuff but just, things you want to happen." Natsu explained, hand leaving the back of her neck to smooth up and down her back. "He always said when you did that you'd wish it into existence.

Here I'll go first. Right now I'm grateful for....." He paused, eyebrows scrunched up together in deep thought, bottom lip jutting out cutely. "Happy. " Natsu said with absolute certainty. "He's better than us because he probably believes in Santa."

She buried her face in his chest, shaking with silent laughter. "Natsu what the hell." "It's true and you know it."

Lucy glanced up at him." Our cat believes in meow mix, kitty litter and that he can somehow fly." Seriously, she'd seen that cat jump from balcony to balcony like it was some kitty version of Assassin's Creed. "Be serious."

"I am! Lemme just finish! I'm grateful for Happy, my super cool, extra awesome firefighter job and well, you of course. How could I forget about the lovely miss grinch?" He pinched her cheek, the one way lower down and snickered when she yelped, pulling his hand to settle back on her waist. "Your turn."

"Yeah alright. I'm grateful foooor, our friends." "Sure you grateful for Gajeel? Be serious."

"I am!" Lucy replied, parroting his earlier words. "Lemme just finish! I'm grateful for all our friends, including Gajeel." "A mistake but continue."

"And I'm grateful for Plue, even if he keeps chewing through all my shoes. And you of course, like you'd even had to guess about that one."

A weak sneeze sounded from outside the room followed by some weak shuffling before everything went back to quiet, save for their light breathing beneath the blanket. That's good, if Plue woke now then they'd never get to sleep, he was too excitable that big puppy.

Lucy drew her legs up from poking out under the blanket. These toes were warm and they were staying that way. "So I'm supposed say what I want now, right?"

He nodded sleepily, tucking her head under his chin.

"Well, I want my novel to be published soon. Like next month soon." She mumbled into his chest. " And maybe a better job." Definitely a better job, working for Jonah Jameson wasn't fun or paid that great.

"And I don't wanna sound cheesy but, I wanna stay with you. For as long as possible." She finished casually, knowing with satisfaction that his cheeks swirled red despite the calm expression he wore. Sure he had his moments of making her red, but she had her times too, they weren’t as often as his but that made them all the more fun.

"Your turn Pinky. What do you want?"

Natsu stayed silent for a few seconds, hands smoothing up and down her back once more. "What I want huh...." He said softly.

"I'd want some more cash." Natsu said simply, shrugging weakly.

Lucy pulled herself up, balancing herself on his chest as she stared down at him confused. " I thought you said no stuff on the want list." Lucy pouted. "You're breaking your own rules here. "

"Don't worry Luce, my list gets better. I also want a ring too, a really, fancy one." His eyes darted to the side and Lucy was absolutely sure the blush spread to his ears. Though she could be sure she was the same, her face feeling warm. She gnawed on her lip, almost sure of what he might say next.

"What'd you need a ring for Natsu?" She asked softly, cupping his face. " Your list is sounding kinda expensive."

"Well..." He wet his lips almost nervously, eyes darting to the sides before settling on her face. His next words came out soft, nearly hesitant. " I need a ring because I want to make little ms. grinch a Mrs., if she'll say yes when I have it."

"Well I'll say yes from now." She laughed happily, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose watching as an elated smile grew on his lips. Natsu’s arms wrapped around her tighter, almost crushing her in the hug but Lucy hardly minded. "But I think I'd prefer Dragneel to grinch, if that's ok with you."

"Aye sir." He let out a light laugh, pressing a sloppy but well meaning kiss to her shoulder. "Love you Lucy."

"I love you too Natsu. Now let's get some shut eye, before Santa comes and finds us." She winked and he snorted, eyes already drawing shut at her words.

Even so, they still stayed up for another hour, 'til the sun pierced even their thick blanket, aimlessly chattering as giddiness bounced between them easily. They finally fell asleep way into Christmas morning, where nothing really was stirring and the blanket outside was cold and white.

And the last thought they shared was of jingling bells, clearer than any bells ever heard on a sleigh.

#natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu x lucy #nalu fanfiction #fairesandchristmas #fairy tail #fairy tail au #fairy tail fanfiction #nalu nerds #merry christmas dude hope you enjoy!!!

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anoutlandishfanfic · 7 years ago

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Week Eight: By Your Side

Premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night?

You can read previous weeks here.

July 30th, 1743; Castle Leoch.

I jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat and turned to find Murtagh standing in the doorway of my surgery.

“I, ah, beggin’ yer pardon, lass,” he stammered as he doffed his hat. “I didna mean to startle ye,”

“No, it’s quite alright,” I assured him and waved him inside. He stepped forward tentatively, making my blood run cold and a question tumble from my lips.

“Has something happened?”

“Ach, nae, lass! Nothin’ o’ the sort. Jamie’s just fine, last I saw him, but he said- ah, tha’ is, I thought ye might- ifrinn,” he trailed off and glowered at me.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

I’d never seen Murtagh so tongue tied before. Not that he spoke all that much, but what he did say was always short and to the point. The man that stood before me was clearly at a loss for words and I hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was getting at.

Shifting from foot to foot, he tried again, “Do ye need me to, ah, fetch ye anythin’? More water or wee plants from the garden or such? The lad willna be in from the far pasture til the evenin’ meal an’ I didna want ye to be in need while he was away, ye ken.”

“No, thank you,” I answered slowly, wondering what on earth had prompted his offer. “I’m well situated at present.”

He nodded gravely, placing his worn hat back on his head. “Aye, well, I willna be far.”

With that he turned and left.

What was that all about?

…

Jamie didn’t make it back to the castle before the meal, leaving me solo amid the myriad of noxious smells that passed for dinner at Leoch. Scents were a constant battle for me and I fought nausea at every meal. Geillis was in attendance tonight, but she was doing little to distract me from my stomach.

In fact, she was only adding to my discomfort.

“Enough about my husband, what about yours?” Geillis asked with a coquettish smile.

“What about him?” I replied cautiously, swallowing hard.

She dug a rather sharp elbow into my ribs. “Well, what d’ye think? Does he look as nice out of his sark as he does in it?”

Oh God, does he ever.

Uncle Lamb had taken me to see Michelangelo’s David the summer we were in Italy, but its chiseled features had nothing on my husband. It was my professional medical opinion that a more perfect pairing of oblique and gluteus maximus muscles didn’t exist.

“Um…” I groped for an answer as I tried to get my brain out of the bedroom.

“Then ‘tis true?” she whispered.

I panicked, imagining the new lie Laoghaire had spun and was feeding the gossip mill, “Is what true?”

“About the thumbs?”

“Thumbs? Geillis, what in God’s name are you talking about?”

“Surely ye ken that? A man’s thumb will tell you the size of his cock, Claire! Great toes too, of course, but those are harder to judge, what wi’ the shoon and all.” She nodded towards Jamie, who had just appeared, as if summoned, in the doorway of the great hall, “Yon wee fox cub looks as though he could cup a good plenty in those hands of his, hm?”

“Geillis Duncan, will - you - shut - up! Someone will hear you!” I hissed, my face flaming.

“No one of importance,” She waved the idea away and grinned cheekily, her voice rising a decibel or two. “Besides, they ken he’s got ye wi’ child already, ‘twould no’ be a shock for me to commend him.”

If Laoghaire were in the room, I’d have strangled her on the spot, and I very nearly strangled Geillis in her stead.

I could see the girl’s look of pure hate when I told her I was carrying Jamie’s child, the image forever ingrained in my mind. She was not one to let things be and I knew the moment the words left my mouth that gloating this fact was a mistake. She’d even had the gall to suggest, to my face, that the baby wasn’t Jamie’s.

Part of me was surprised she hadn’t spun that into her tale.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, shut up!” I pinched her hard beneath the table. “Its none of your business!”

She took on a look of complete innocence as Jamie sat down on the other side of me. He smiled apologetically and squeezed my hand as he poured himself a glass of wine. I was surprised there was any left, for Geillis seemed to have drank far more than her share.

“Oh, aye? Well,” The sly smile was back in Geillis’ green eyes. “I dinna ken about that, Claire, for the entire castle kens it to be true.”

“Kens wha’?” Jamie asked as he took a sip.

“That ye got your wife wi’ child on your wedding night.”

He choked on the liquid, his face quickly matching the deep crimson of the wine.

…

it was ungodly hot in here. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck as I tried to breathe thru my mouth and not my nose. The stench of the unwashed Highlander across from me was enough to fumigate an entire city block and, when combined with whatever the hell that was, it was all I could do not to vomit onto my plate. The man dished himself another helping of the concoction, sending a fresh barrage of fumes my way.

“She hasna the sense God gave a goose, ye ken,” Geillis tittered on, oblivious to my discomfort and Jamie’s barely concealed rage. The grating sound of Geillis’ voice swelled with each wave of nausea, her every intonation making the bile rise in my throat.

I gripped Jamie’s arm as my head began to spin.

“Are ye alright?” he whispered, bringing his face very near mine.

Gagging as the smell of his breath overwhelmed my senses, I got out an emphatic no before he swept me off the bench and made for the door.

A combination of sheer willpower and the breeze created by Jamie’s movements kept the inevitable at bay until we made it into the passageway on the other side of the door. He wasn’t able to avoid the mess, and took the brunt of it upon himself as we came to a sudden stop.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked between dry heaves, the both of us now wet with my warm, pungent vomit.

Jamie managed a wry grin, answering, “Dinna fash, Sassenach, I’ve been covered in worse.”

He didn’t turn to go towards the stairs that led to our chamber, but continued down the passageway ahead of us.

“Where are we going?” The back of my throat burned, my words little more than a whisper.

“Your surgery,” he replied, “‘tis cooler, aye?”

It was. For all it’s cave-like disadvantages, it did remain cool in the heat of the day.

Jamie pushed the door open with his shoulder and the chilled, damp air welcomed us. He set me down gently atop the stool near my work table, then moved about the room in a determined frenzy. The empty bucket I used for such a time as this was placed in front of me, the door was latched and locked, the basin was filled with fresh water and a clean cloth found, and the bed in the corner prepared for an occupant. All of this completed, he shed his soiled shirt and knelt in front of me.

“Wha’ can I do, mo nighean donn?”

I took a deep, shuddering breath and leaned forward, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I think you’ve already done it.”

…

“Did you tell Murtagh about the baby?” I mumbled, half asleep, sometime later.

I hoped Murtagh had heard the news from Jamie and not from someone else, as Laoghaire had saw fit to broadcast my condition to the entire castle.

Jamie brushed the hair off my neck, replacing it with a kiss, before responding with a rumbling, “Umhmm.”

Murtagh’s random visit suddenly made sense, and was far more endearing than I had registered in the moment.

“Why do ye ask?”

“He stopped by to make sure I was alright while you were gone,” I explained.

“Gone?” Jamie’s confusion was evident, “I didna go anywhere, Sassenach.”

I smiled, “Apparently, the far pasture was entirely too unreachable for his liking.”

A knock sounded at the door, followed by the godfather in question’s muffled voice asking, “Are ye within, Jamie?”

Speak of the devil…

Jamie made a sort of growling noise deep in his throat and pulled me closer. “Ignore him and he'll go away.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the face he made.

“Shh, Sassenach,” he whispered, silencing me by giving me a breathtaking kiss.

It worked.

“I ken ye can hear me, ye wee gomerel,” Murtagh muttered as he tried to open the door, but found it latched. He shook it a time or two, testing the strength of the lock, before uttering something in Gaelic and giving up.

His footsteps echoed in the passageway and I knew he’d left.

“What did he say?” I grinned as Jamie's ears turned pink.

“Somethin’ about stabling a broodmare with an ass,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “‘Twas a complement to ye, to be sure, mo nighean donn, just not to me.”

“What a pity,” I quipped, taking his mouth in mine as my hands drifted further south, “ for your ass is worth complementing.”

he tipped his head back and laughed in earnest, “I dinna think ‘twould sound the same coming from him, Sassenach.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfic #metamorphosis au #week eight #by your side

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btsbound-blog · 8 years ago

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The Center Console Does Nothing to Support You (M)

Jungkook x Reader Smut (roadhead) Words: 3,009 (just four more from being a Childish Gambino song)

*A/N: To my handy dandy Jungkook stan @jungshock and Admin Kaycie from @houseofbangtaninternational for encouraging me to write this filfth. Twas fun. PS: who even invented roadhead? o.O*

Lake Shore Drive after Rush Hour is beautiful, empty. That, plus the added late night summer air rushing through rolled down windows, it all makes you feel weightless, free, adventurous.

But tonight’s adventure is not really one of your own, but your boyfriend, who sits behind the wheel with one hand gripping the tattered leather and the other rubbing at your bare thigh. It’s a situation you two have been in more than a handful of times this summer, sneaking out of the gated community of your north side homes, travelling the half hour path to get to your friends waiting for you on the south side, your and Jeongguk’s safe haven. On eroded streets littered with potholes and weeds growing from sidewalk cracks is where you feel the most at ease.

Electricity thrums from the palm wrapped around your skin. Jeongguk is excited for the race tonight, ready to show his friends how much he has improved since their last race. You truly have no interest, unaffected by your boyfriend’s competitive side. You have been with him too long to care, but also because you know your disinterest makes him work even harder to win.

You will not lie to yourself, the dynamic of your relationship with Jeongguk must seem a little odd from an outsider’s perspective (hell, even some of the older boys in Jeongguk’s group would question him to the umpteenth degree), but it is one the both of you are very comfortable with. You and he are equals, and for the most part, you come across as best friends; not all that big on PDA besides the times either of you are feeling more introverted or needy, choosing to glue to the other’s side. And the banter is endless, sometimes quipped and hard to tell if you’re joking or not, sometimes so over the top and dramatic no one could possibly mistake you two for just being typical young adults in love.

There’s a lurch in the car as he speeds down the rather empty expressway, and you subtly eye the needle and see it push towards 75 mph. With a sigh, you continue scrolling through your phone.

“Try not to get us or yourself killed tonight, Jeon,” you mutter nonchalantly. “You know you don’t get anything if you win this stupid race, right?”

Jeongguk scoffs next to you, and you don’t even have to turn to see the offended look on his face. “Um, bragging rights is what I would win, [y/n].”

Right, because Jeon Jeongguk, Certified Shy Dork, would totally use the bragging rights with anyone but you (you, who does not give a shit). You tear your eyes away from your screen to stare him down until he feels it.

The street lights trail across his face, accentuating the roundness if his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, and it takes all of your strength to remember why you chose to glare at him in this moment.

He feels it soon enough, your eyes on his profile, and he chances a glance over in your direction before focusing back on the road. “What?”

“Jeongguk, you don’t have to impress these guys. They like you. You’re in their little gang.” Though you are neither here nor there when it comes to his new choice of friends, you understand his desire to fit in, to have them like him. It would be adorable if he wasn’t partaking in an...illegal form of entertainment.

You hear him scoff again, twitching at the way he involuntarily kneads your thigh. You must have hit the nail on the head, as you usually do. “I’m not trying to impress them,” he denies, not even sounding confident to himself.

You give another sigh, this one not as noticeable. You and Jeongguk were born and raised Northsiders, living a rather privileged life with proper allowances for taking out the trash and not worrying about getting sick because health insurance is a thing. Of course Jeongguk would want to make these guys think he could hang, “get down and dirty” as he had said unironically one time.

You pat the hand that’s still firmly on your leg, rubbing mindlessly at the sturdiness of his forearm before covering the top of his hand with your own, playing with the fingers. You can feel his nerves become restless as you continue to fret with his fingers, pulling at them only for them to snap back into place against the skin cloaked in warmth.

“Issue?” you hear him ask, his previous laxed state becoming more and more wired.

You give a pout you know he won’t notice, turning in your seat to practically face him head on. “Ggukie, your hands are getting clammy,” you whine, only slightly teasing. It truly did gross you out a tad when his furnace of a body would get sweaty at too much contact.

With a smirk, he loosens his grip only to move his palm further up your thigh. And normally, you would push him away, cringe away from the humid touch- but his fingers skirt on the inside of your thigh as they run higher and higher, and your legs jerk together at the barely there stimulation.

Jeon Jeongguk had been a special case, never going a moment in his 22 years of living when he wasn’t getting attention from women. You distinctly remember when you both were children, how your mother and aunt would fawn over the adorable runt, how small and pure he looked.

“Oh, [y,n], don’t you think little Jeonggukie is cute?” they would ask you, heart eyes too prevalent for your liking. It made you roll your eyes and turn your nose up at the boy.

And even through his awkward teenage years, he still got the attention because he was still adorable, or that is what your friends and mother say. He was just Jeongguk. Always had been. It hadn’t dawned on you that maybe the girls in your school had a point until one day he came over to visit you, and suddenly you opened the door and had to look...up. That was at the age of nineteen, when you first realized that yeah, Jeon Jeongguk was an eyeful and more (cue the flustered, bumbling idiot you became).

And here he sits now, one strong hand easily steering the leather bound wheel while another built arm is stretched to constantly be touching you, and really, how can someone look so hot doing so little?

He’s right there, you think to yourself, mindlessly chewing at your bottom lip as you contemplate your next move. The lights still dance over his face, illuminating his features in the dark of night in a lazy rhythm. He really is right there. All you have to do is lean over and…

You place a peck on his cheek, pulling back a bit to check his reaction, testing the waters. He seems unfazed by the gesture, only half of his lips tugging up in a smile. So you go back in again, leaving open mouthed kisses that trail down his jaw. You don’t realize the grip you have on the wrist connected to the hand still trapped between your legs until you let go to pull at your seatbelt.

With a quick glance, you look outside the windows, making sure there isn’t a car riding besides you (fuck anyone behind you). And since the coast is clear (enough), you let your hand slide over to his jean clad legs, the other hand finding balance on the leather console between you two.

“Holy shit!” Jeongguk shouts, urgency in his voice enough to make you flinch away in panic.

“What? What?!” You ask frantically, checking the road around you, slamming yourself to duck your head out the window. You swear to god, if Jeongguk hurt an animal-

“Were you about to blow me?”

As his words slowly catch up with your brain, you turn back to glare at him, eyes squinted and tongue poking in your cheek. His expression is a mixture of wide-eyed shock and an eager smile.

You speak too calmly for comfort, obviously hiding your irritation with being interrupted. “I was...planning. On it.”

That does nothing to change his face. He only glances at you, huffing out a laugh. “That’s a real thing?”

...Did he seriously just ask you if roadhead is a real thing? “What?”

With a defensive shrug, he explains. “I just...I thought that only happened in movies and fanfiction.”

Leaning against the passenger door, you scrutinize your boyfriend, pushing his hand away from you. Leave it to him to ruin the moment with his very unsexy antics. “Whose fanfiction are you reading?”

Jeongguk sputters for a second, the streetlights catching the gaping look on his face. “I...pfft, is that part important? At least, right now?”

You want to interrogate him, watch him get flustered with the idea of having to admit one dirty little secret you seemed to not know. But, unfortunately (or very fortunately, depending on how you look at it), he’s still very hot and still very much mouthwatering in probably the most naughtiest of ways.

You can curse your hormones later.

You crawl back into your previous position, noting how Jeongguk leans his head to give you more room to lick, mouth and bite at the skin of his neck. You barely miss the way his eyes flutter, and you snap instantly.

“If you don’t keep your fucking eyes and focus on the road I will climb into the backseat, I swear to god, Jeon,” comes the hissing threat. At his frantic nod, your lips fall back to his throat with more fervor, frustration building at having to stop so many times. It shows in the way your teeth bite harshly into the meat of his neck, sadistically satisfied with the air he sucks in through his teeth.

Your palm goes back to work, breezing through the foreplay of feathering up the inside of his thigh and quickly palming at the semi-hard length in his pants. You’re sure he feels the smug grin against his neck; how sensitive your boyfriend is, how worked up he gets for you so easily. It sends a shot of lust to your own core to know you affect him so.

When you try to shift closer, the seatbelt locks, and you huff again, having to pull away to shove it off of you so you can try and mold the upper half of your body to his as best you can with a goddamn console still there and immobile.

You are quite skilled, nimbly undoing the buttons and zipper of his jeans so you can stuff your hand down his underwear. The hissed “shit” he whispers only makes you thrum with more excitement. You have lost count of how many times you have done this, worked your hand up and down his cock (Jeongguk could probably tell you because, underneath this sexy exterior he sometimes wears, he is always 100% A Dork Trademark). You have become an expert, collecting the precum that pools at the tip when he’s finally completely hard and hot in your closed palm. Though the precum acts as a decent lubricate, you both know a more effective way of getting him dripping wet. You give a slow lick at the sensitive spot behind his ear, biting back a smile at his heavy exhale, before you finally lower your mouth to breathe against the head of his aching member.

It takes some maneuvering, getting into a somewhat comfortable position where your ribs aren’t entirely digging into the console. There’s still a pinch, but it’s manageable; and really, feeling the way the smallest shiver shoots up Jeongguk’s spine when you wrap your tongue around the underside of his cock just makes it worth it. You repeat the action, letting the tip of your tongue get caught under the head before wrapping your lips around it completely. With one hand wrapped around the base, you move your mouth lower and lower, always licking until the head rests at the back of your tongue. Your gag reflex betrays you when you try to inch downwards, closing up and making you pull off to breathe.

Your reflexes can be a bit finicky, sometimes wanting to cooperate, sometimes wanting to be a complete and utter bitch to work with (“so, a lot like your personality, as a whole,” Jeongguk would say, which would result in a smack to his shoulder). But you keep your tongue moving, leaving kitten licks at the crown while your throat calms down enough so you could try again.

You take your time, ignoring your own eagerness, as you suck your way down his length, making sure to breathe heavily through your nose and keep your throat open until- success.

The center console presses against your lungs, and your other hand scrapes the leather as you try to focus on the way he hits the back of your throat. With another steady breath, you experiment with swallowing around him.

You feel the car swerve and you yank your head off his cock, yelling his name angrily, though your throat is a bit scratchy. Your body lurches to the side as he jerks the car back to its straight position.

“Fuck, sorry,” he apologizes with a tight voice, weaving his fingers into the tresses of your hair. “It’s just...your mouth.”

You think any other time you would flattered, maybe even a bit cocky with how he submits when you’re the one with his dick in your mouth. But you would very much like to live, or at least not die with his dick out and have the firemen find you in this rather precarious position.

You don’t regard his apology, simply opting to go back to your previous task. The air rushes outside, but it doesn’t mask the slick sounds that accompany you coating his dick in your saliva, mixing with the salty precum that beads at the top whenever you go just a bit lower than usual.

He does a lot better when you decide to try for deepthroating again, electing to tighten his grip on your head and stuttering out a groan when you swallow a few times around him. You even congratulate yourself when you don’t choke as he bucks his hips up, desperate to go deeper in the wet, tight heat of your throat.

You’re a mess, spit dribbling from the tight seal of your lips and smearing down your chin and your hand; it’s fucking hot. The heat swirls and knots in the pit of your stomach when he accidentally pushes your head down, moaning out another frantic apology. It takes you a second, but you finally pulling your hand away from the base, confident that you can steady yourself enough to fit the last few inches down your throat.

“Shit, shit!” Jeongguk tries to bite back the noises, successful up until you pull up to suck tightly around the head. In the back of your mind, you notice that the air outside the car has eased, meaning you must be off the expressway and onto the side streets that take you to your destination. You must be close.

You suck with a purpose, moaning and rubbing your thighs together because you won’t have time to get yourself off. You hear his faint warning, the “gon-gonna cum, [y,n]-” as you keep your lips secured around the tip, bringing your hand back to stroke the length now completely saturated with spit and precum.

His breathing is heavy, and you chance a glance to look up to see his brows furrowed together, jaw slack as noises get caught in his throat. Right before he cums, his mouth snaps shut, teeth biting into his bottom lip and his muscles tense. Your eyes flutter shut when his seed coats your mouth, not giving yourself a chance to taste too much before you swallow it down. Your hand still twists up his cock, milking him for all he’s worth until the last remnants dribble pathetically against your tongue.

You give one last lick, holding back a giggle when he tries to flinch away from the overstimulation. With a final kiss to hiss check, you fall back into your passenger seat, rubbing at your ribs as you try to will down the lust that makes you throb in your shorts.

“Shit, [y/n].” Jeongguk’s voice pitches at the end, his tone showing just how wrecked he is. You’re sure you would sound the same if you spoke, so you only nod.

The road you’re on now is familiar, the asphalt getting bumpier and holier the further along you go. You’re almost there.

Still not trusting your voice, you only give your boyfriend a look when he suddenly pulls over to the curb, shifting the gear into park and leaning over the console to drag you into a sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

You swallow his groan, and you’re sure he can still taste himself on your tongue. When he finally pulls away with a tug of your bottom lip, he grits out, “Your turn.”

When the hand that had been on the steering wheel comes to your knee, you can ignore the dampness of his palm in lieu of how he tugs your legs open.

“What about-” you pause to clear your throat. “What about the drag race?”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue. “They won’t start without me. Besides, you can be my goodluck charm.” He beams up with a smile that seems so pure, you honestly can’t believe this boy is your boyfriend, the boyfriend - who still has his goddamn dick out -ready to finger you.

“Tch, fucking better win,” you mumble as he tugs at the buttons of your shorts. “Drag me all the way out here for nothing.”

You both knew your words were empty. Away from your homes on summer nights like these, this was your safe haven, paradise.

*A/N: Rap at me about how he would totes submit to his girl and we can be friends.

~Admin Sarcasm*

#bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #admin sarcasm #enjoy this random fic that has no purpose

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wantondestructionandsuch · 8 years ago

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A Short Anthology of Valentine’s Day Poetry

To @angstytortoise, hello there. I hope you like what I have here, because this is all for you. Also, thank you to @lostporpoise for sending that wonderful poem last February 7.

Introduction

February the 14th saw two different events take place within the stones of Ancient Rome. These two events, at least to me, are still eminent in how we each spend our Valentine's Day.

One event, named the Lupercalia, was a pagan festival for the she-wolf that fed the two founders of Rome, Romulus and Remus, with her milk in the cave named Lupercal. The Roman pagans celebrated the event to drive away evil spirits and promote health, nourishment, and fertility for the Romans.

The second event, named Valentine's Day, was a day commemorating the martyrdom and execution of St. Valentine under the orders of Roman Emperor Claudius II. St. Valentine was executed for refusing to renounce his faith in Jesus Christ.

On this Valentine's Day used to stand two different events, one of celebration, another of commemoration. On this Valentine's Day, we separate ourselves into two factions, those with and those without. We are either those who are strengthened by the love that the she-wolf had given to the two brothers or those who are separated by the little differences we have between people and societies.

Whoever you are reading this and to all who hope for a better Valentine's Day, I want to give you these set of poems of how I think we should (or shouldn't) all feel during Valentine's Day. Jubilant, wonderfully curious, uniquely normal, loved, strengthened, empowered, whatever word makes you feel happy, I want for you to find this feeling on this Valentine's Day and keep it with you beyond your lifetime, whether you have someone to share it with or you have the blessings of the day all to yourself.

Find the love that makes life so much sweeter. It doesn't have to come from the romantic, arousing relationship of that ultimate someone else.

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A Good Morning

The church bells always rang in the morning Before the sunrise could flutter its eyelids It was a salvation from the night It was morning, sweet morning

And so the people rose from their earth Moved about in tune with the cacophony Of minds strung by the substance of sleep They looked down on their drunken feet Because it was too shameful for them to see It was still morning, sweet morning

A spoken rumor developed after noon It spilled into every corner of every pair of ears How could it be that the sun would leave us It gave warm amusement for the crowd Every second was counted like sand Until they could roam nakedly Under the shade of dark night's veil No more morning, sweet morning

Then it all came to light once the sun had slept The day belonged to the night Every feast, every pleasure indulged Cups raised for the death of another sun And eyes closed shut for the birth of the next No mourning, sweet mourning

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A Night For Dreaming

The fragrance of freshly baked bread And a sip of bittersweet coffee Kept me wandering through the late nights Sleep beckons to me but I could not stay When the dark of night sips the same cup Of caffeine and chews on the same morsel Of crumbly bread, it called for something more

And look where my curiosity has fled Every second in time's precious hands Lost itself in the evergreen I dove into Somehow darkness became my dear friend It freed me from what hid in these wilds 'Twas a dash from sheer bright light, to be truthful

Then what I had witnessed next was Insanity crystallized in its purest finality Perhaps it was my caffeinated state of daze Or the veils of the night parting from themselves I saw the moon, only more beautiful than it was How impossible it was, for a moon to Outshine its former glory Madness! Just utter madness

But, no, it was as clear as the night could be Nowhere on this patch of rocks and molten magma Could the moon be ever more majestic, more inviting Than this spot of overgrown weeds and anthills No, not even in my home, I could not see The same moon that once graced Itself in my small, human understanding

It pervades my restless soul through the night The lasting image of a moon so simple, so perfect And yet so far away from reality's reality I fear I will not find the same spot of grass From whence I stumbled upon in my drunken stupor

So I shall look longingly at every passing moon Each with the same hope and fear of finding The same face I had lost that one dark night

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Each Passing Glance Of You

A single stone amongst a quarry of its own Could find itself with every passing glance Every pile of dust or puddle of mud Only recognized a single grave of familiar faces

Yet somehow I missed you in the wind The friend I could never remember You had a thousand faces How could I not see them all

Perhaps your fire came not from the embers of the surface But from the sparking flame within each word, each thought You had a thousand faces But only one soul to captivate me

Now, I am lost in my wild fever dreams Of your velvet heart beyond the universe I once knew You had a thousand faces And now I search for one of them

One day, we shall meet where the water lilies drown And only roses bloom, thorns and all, for us to burn You're my friend with a thousand faces And I fell in love with each one

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An Affinity For Light And Warmth

The silence that comes with every hollow heart Left when the breath of you Made it full of something again Love would be a too easy guess

It had a funny taste, one that wasn't so familiar The pollen of sunflowers came to mind Blooming such beautiful images Images that brought me back to you

The psychedelia you feel when the warmth Of another hollow heart beating next to yours Washes over the cratered fragments of your soul Leaving behind wishes of true love

Love, the substance that drives the forces of time and space To suspend itself between two irrational beings And bind them for as long as the spell lasts For it to inhibit all other matter and minds

I don't want ours to be a substance to be used or abused For love should be the shared soul between us, among people The calm stab in the chest that brings living things Back to a place where we could no longer see the difference Between you and me

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What The Rain Dropped

Cold showers cascaded deep onto the soil As we walked by the road travelled so many times By those like us; weary, wet, and alone together

We frowned but not in the way anyone would comprehend It was the kind where we alone could read "Everything is fine, could be better, but still okay" And nothing more to say

Sweet music was made that rainy day The torrents of raindrop roared upon the ground As we shivered in our damp jackets And felt one heartbeat under the umbrella How could we not sing in such a perfect moment

Through this path, it seemed the world lost us We traveled to everywhere, nowhere, anywhere all at once And the path to it would have kept us singing Until there was no song left to sing

I fell harder than the hurricane that would mark this land But I kept walking down the path on steady ground Because I had a friend who could bring me up When the storm just kept coming down

With our dirt-trodden sneakers, every hidden treasure Was ours to behold and chance upon Though we kept our own valuables to value And kept marching through cold showers

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Chains Broken And Made

Flap your wings, dear friends The world is broken and open for plunder Take what is yours and fly for no one But the sky and those who love it so As much as the world loves you

Raise your colors and go about Through every twisted path under heavy burden Tread freely like the air that lifts you To every heaven uncharted above Be leaves and wander where fate takes you

Rise up against the manufactured fears of this world For that is all they are: cheap tricks of repeated value Born out of the chains that bring people to their knees Stand tall, stand true and those chains shall break Freeing all from hatred and apathy

Indeed, every chain is of great strength from fear But ours is a sword tested and tried under pressure That shall take each link that sequesters us And shatter it in its greater conviction

No more shall we stand divided amongst Colors of the same shade and texture Ours is the world for the taking And ours is the world to give

Make no mistake, we shall drop the sword With a steady and strong force Cultured by the seasons and tides of our time To strike the blow against fear and hate

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Child Of None

This child of none was born in the darkness And abandoned in the shadows of the world But was found by the heavens of the stars And kissed by winter sunshine

This child of none opened its wide eyes to the world It basked in the tapestry it weaved Telling all that the horizons could show Each demure thread its own wonderful color

This child of none shivered in its solace Wailed to the sun to never leave the sky But, as every flower must submit to the earth So too must the stars submit to the dark

This child of none held out its plea To the moons that fell upon its lap It gave the child the hopeful luminescence That guided all lost things to its place

This child of none bore the same truths All men blindly fear in their search for life Yet it wore different lens to see and hear Every spectrum and sound they were worth And it only saw beautiful things

#pssecretvalentine #angstytortoise #writerscreed #a short anthology of valentine's day poetry

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jaezeeelcapili · 5 years ago

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Happy 2020!

Gracefully exiting 2019 and welcoming 2020 with a stronger and grateful heart.

Peace ☮️, love ❤️ and happiness 😊 for 2020. More cash 💵 na rin syempre para makagala ako somewhere pag may time! 😁

I honestly don’t know what to feel or expect for 2020. Maybe, I’m just gonna wing it. No expectations from people, no pressure to myself. Just living and feeling every moment.

My 2019 was really different from any other year I had. Hmm. ‘Twas tough (but I think, it was also my fault why it was tough for me. I’m always in a hurry to accomplish things that usually takes time and I worry about “almost” everything esp. about the future.) Sa sobrang hirap, I decided to cut my hair super short which was really not me cause tbh, I don’t like having short hair. But, I realized that it helped me to change because as my hair grows through time, I noticed that I also grow as a person. Wala lang, gusto ko lang talaga ng “change.”

I initially had 3 big goals planned for 2019 but I only fulfilled one. It’s okay, I’m still super happy and proud of myself. I don’t want to force anything that is not meant to happen yet.

I learned so much from doing 2 (almost 3) things at the same time. To others, it wasn’t a big deal since they’ve been doing a lot of things altogether at once but for someone like me who used to take “one step a time,” it was really challenging, it was something new. Scary but I was able to do it. Yay!

Only few people knew about it. I pretend that everything is okay and fine and I have a lot of extra time but honestly, I feel like I don’t. I became so busy and really occupied which is good (for me) because I became less dramatic compared before. I was able to established my routine, became a morning person and productive everyday. I managed my time well and cut all the unnecessary habits I used to have. Also, I always feel good and fulfilled whenever I am able to make time for every people I love.

I want to share to you these 3 important things I’ve learned this year. You probably already knew about these but as you continue to read, just let these be a reminder to you.

1. Beginnings are always the hardest. Everything I expected was harder than I thought. I wanted to give up but I chose to keep going and be stronger.

Everyone starts with something, right? So allow yourself to be a beginner because no one starts as an expert. Just keep going because eventually things will be okay. It will always be okay.

2. Embrace your mistakes. I used to hate making mistakes. I always feel bad every time I make mistakes but I chose to learn from it, make it right and be better next time.

It’s okay to make mistakes to see what doesn’t work. It makes us a little wiser and careful as well. And admit it or not, it is easier to remember how to do things right when you did it wrong for the first time.

3. Enjoy the process because everything takes time. I used to worry and rush and put pressure on myself that I need to accomplish things right away but I chose to relax, take it easy and slow down.

Whatever we want to get or achieve in life has its own “process.” It might be shorter or longer than you expected but one thing is for sure — the “process” teaches us an important value called Patience. People have different timelines. We all don’t have to rush because we are all just in time.

So remember to keep going, learn from your mistakes and take it easy. Also, always have a grateful heart. Everything happened to you in the past (good or bad), is part of who you are today.

Life knocked me off few times but I learned to get up and continue on with my journey. Thank you, Lord! The best Ka! I am forever grateful to You! I’ve met a lot of amazing people which did change my life forever. I wouldn’t be able to do everything without the help, guidance and support of all the people that God blessed me with. Thanks from every cells of my human being! You are all now part of my success today and in the future.

2019 made me stronger and made me do a lot of firsts. I’ve learned so much from this year and I know there’s more to learn and to experience which I’m really excited about.

Cheers to a new, wonderful and better days ahead! Welcome 2020!

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gaudeixcc · 6 years ago

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Peloton New – Eiger

The sleepy town of Grindelwald lies at the foot of the Eiger. A Swiss peak with a frankly terrifying North face which is concave and year-round bathed in shadow. As a climbing challenge it’s ferocious.

Climbing the Eiger the normal route, whilst not for the likes of you and I, is it seems relatively straightforward.

Climbing the North face however is a completely different barrel of monkeys.

So many climbers have died trying that the Germans have a nickname for it. ‘Murderous wall’.

Before being successfully climbed in 1938 by Anderl Heckmair, who along with 3 chums made it to the top with many a tale of derring do, many climbers lost their lives trying.

In 1935 for example, 2 German climbers had to bivouac 5 times over a period of a few days whilst attempting the summit. Fog came down and watched from Grindelwald below the people saw them disappear. 2 days later they were found frozen to death at 3,300 meters in a place now called ‘death bivouac’.

Like many a great Strava segment, the Heckmair route has iconic ‘segments’ named after various heroics in the history pre-summit.

The White spider, the Traverse of the Gods, flat iron and difficult crack (we’ve all been there).

Probably the most infamous drama to play out on the mountain was in 1936 when 2 Bavarian climbers, Andreas Hinterstoisser and Toni Kurtz and a couple of Asutrians had a crack at the North face.

Stuck on the wall and cut off by bad weather, they made fatal mistakes. They traversed across an area of flat purchase-less mountain face but instead of leaving the rope behind so they could get back, they took it with them. Now stuck, 3 of the group where swept off by an avalanche with Kurtz left hanging in mid-air on a rope. 3 guides went up the hill to try and rescue him. They used the railway inside the mountain which has a couple of places where you can come out directly on to the North face. They got within shouting distance of Kurtz who relayed the fate of the others.

The guides managed to get a rope to him so he could traverse down, but hands ravaged by frost bite, he spent hours trying to get the rope into his carabiner. In the end he just gave up and died exhausted on the side of the mountain.

Nobody wants that, least of all me….. still… twas nearly my fate this weekend.

A small subset of The Gaudeix Peleton this year visited Kitzbühel in Austria to mark my 50th year on the planet. Of the 5 riders, 2 are good skiers, 2 are good snow-boarders and 1 is 50 and never worn a ski boot outside of Hemel Hempstead. This was going to be interesting.

I had taken this task seriously. I’d had 11 hours-worth of lessons and the boys had bought me two 3 hour sessions of one-on-one tuition from an 8-year old Danish boy called ‘Viktor’.

He and I had a lot in common.

1. We are both male

2. We were both spending 6 hours together.

The rapport flowed and we found ourselves chatting away perhaps once or twice. It wasn’t frosty… we just shared little common ground. He asked me what I did. I told him I worked in Insurance…. and that was the end of that little line of enquiry. I then dropped one of my sticks off the ski lift into what looked like a ravine. ‘Couldn’t nip and get that for me could you Viktor?’

Still, in fairness to Viktor, he did treat me gently and didn’t at any point leave me for dead on a steep mountain. Not at any point. Thanks Viktor.

My confidence grew gently. I crashed a couple of times…. Once spectacularly on a very flat and unassuming piece of ground. I felt like I was going maybe 10-15 mph…. just standing up… not doing anything. Exerting no effort. It was like my brain had a sudden moment of ‘hang the fuckety on, what’s going on here. You’re standing still but still moving. Stop this bus immediately’. At this point I did a massive cartwheel on the flat ground and ended up in a heap with a hurty rib and a concerned looking Viktor whose voice said ‘are you ok?’ but whose eyes said ‘how the fuck did you just crash here… it’s flat you complete fucking moron’.

After that ‘lil event though, things kinda progressed well. I did more skiing. Viktor took me on some blue runs. I didn’t die in any meaningful way. All was well.

The big day of the week though was Saturday. Hip flasks packed. Time called fairly early. Everyone drinking hot chocolate with beers and added hip flaskery. We hit the town early. We hit the town hard. Some harder than others.

It’s not fair on those involved to go into too many raw details, so I’m going to deploy the famous ‘summary bullets’ to the evenings events and let others add the names/fill in the blanks. Here goes;

• Snowboarder X…. too drunk to stand un-aided, staggers down road… then runs at a complete stranger shouting… and hugs him. Literally the funniest video I’ve ever seen…. And I have played it to no-one today at work. Noone at all…

• Skier Y…… upstanding pillar of the community. Responsible job in the transport industry…. Never kicked a football in his life. Taped to the bar with electrical tape and broke a hotel wardrobe door.

• Snowboarder Z….Generous purchaser of birthday Champaign… roommate to gentle old man…. Literally left me for dead on a mountain to be eaten by wolves…. Revoluted me for the cost of the wolves whilst I was being eaten.

• Skier Z…. self-employed….. can start his car with an App…. Tired legs…. Also taped to a bar with electrical tape. Broke no doors.

Clearly names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I can’t however leave this edition of Peloton news without re-living the disaster that was day 3.

I hadn’t seen Viktor that morning.

I had felt that I held kept my head above the snow.

Off we all went to the other side of the mountain.

The fist little sign of trouble was when Moley suggested that we take a quieter, less well travelled route. The trouble with skiing that I have found, is that once you are committed to a route by going down some part of it…. You are committed… there is literally no going back. This particular route was not long…. But very narrow and icy. I instantly panicked and then fell over.

At this point an 80-year old German woman enters the scene. She stands on her skis by the side of my broken body and starts asking if I’m ok…. Moley, ever the gentleman, assures her that there is nothing to see here and that he is ‘taking care of it’.

She literally refuses to move.

‘He shouldn’t be on this slope’ says Frauline.

I’m preoccupied looking for my other ski and I think I’ve also lost a stick.

At this point I’m sitting down and looking over the edge of the slope I’m sitting on.

‘He shouldn’t be on this slope’ continues the old bint.

‘He’s fine’ continues Moley. ‘I’ve got him… we’ll be out of your way soon’.

I continue to sit.

Eventually I get cracking again and manage to slide my arse off that particular hill and move on to the next drama.

I didn’t like that slope. Too narrow and very icy.

My arse hurts.

My rib hurts.

My pride hurts.

Eventually, snowboarder X & Y arrive at the top of a blue (black?) run and fuck the hell off without so much as a backward glance.

They leave the Hemel Hempstead flyer with Moley and Macca to pursue their own agenda. I’m left wondering what they talk about…. When they do their thing together. I have no idea because I’ve been skiing for 11 hours in total. I don’t know what goes on chat-wise at the front of the Ski-pack. I just know what happens at the back.

Anyhoo, within minutes, I find myself on the North Face of the Eigar looking down. Fuck me this is a looooong slope. I mean really, really long. And it’s about 40 degrees in angle.

I go down and within seconds I’m travelling at a pace I really don’t like at all. Not one Iota. So I do what I do best. I fall off dramatically and take a German lady with me for good measure.

She said ‘are you ok?’….. her eyes said ‘for the love of fuckery what on earth are you doing here you complete amateur’

I was now sitting in the middle of a mountain on my arse. One ski moving downhill being chased by Macca with Moley up the slope looking for my stick.

I was frightened, confused and angry.

How the fuck was I going to get off this slope. I literally had no idea. I’m on the side of a mountain. I can’t go down 2k’s on my arse for fucksake..!

Both Moley and Macca are trying to gently talk me down. I’m having none of it.

‘What the fuck am I doing here’, I whine.

For those of you present several years ago on Barhatch, when an unnamed cyclist so pissed on my fire that I popped a little wheelie in anger and then spoke to no-one for 30 mins…. you’d recognise this particular version of me.

I’m getting irrational and angry at how average I am at pretty much every sport I try. Cycling. Average in the pack. Squash… average. Boxing… average…. Football….. yep, pretty shit at that.

I feel fear.

Macca is trying to talk to me ‘put the weight on your downhill ski Hoppo and try and press your arse into the mountain. It’ll give you better purchase on the edge and will be a lot easier for you to sustain… come on Hoppo…then you can rest… and we can go down gently’.

All I hear is ‘blah blah blah blah.. Hoppo….blah blah blah… Hoppo….blah blah blah…. Die’

Moley gently slides into view.

‘No worries Hoppo… just traverse…. Just traverse over there Hoppo… you can do it’.

All I hear is ‘Traverse… blah blah blah…. Traverse…. Blah blah blah’.

I am genuinely fearful. I’m sweating and my legs are burning. The slope is 45 degrees and covered in ice.

Literally hundreds of people and gently sweeping down it without a care in the world. I am the only person on the slope going fucking sideways….. slowly. From one side…. to the other…. And then down a few inches.

This takes what feels like hours.

I reach the bottom a sweating gibbering mess.

I look back up the slope. Fuck me it’s massive. For far too long I felt like Toni Kurtz… desperately trying to get down… but too cold… too frightened… so close… I thought I was going to be stuck on the mountain for ever.

In my wild subconscious I thought I heard two snowboarders overhead chuckling as they were lifted to safety whilst watching the madness below. Couldn’t have been our two.

I was nervous on day 1 as had absolutely no idea what to expect.

I came back alive and un-injured.

Being 50 isn’t about being brilliant at everything you do. It’s about just saying yes to doing brilliant things.

One day I will ski the murderous wall and overcome the demons.

March 2020? Not sure I’ll be quite ready then… but one day.

See you there next year.

In the meantime I shall be retreating to the safety of my bicycle.

Slide away mother fuckers, slide away.

Hoppo

#PeletonNews

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