She weighed next to nothing in his arms. So fragile yet strong at the same time. They were breathing each other so deeply… The heat of the fire in their room had nothing on them. It was about comfort, it was about healing and it turned into so much more so fast. They were the extension of the fire at that moment.
“Let’s go bed.”
Jamie slowly walked the distance between where they stood and the bed, like he was walking on clouds. His hands running from her backside to her thighs and just holding her up as he did, had left a trail of tingling sensation that Claire was still reeling from. She needed his big hands on her again, lighting up her every nerve. There was a time not long ago that she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel it, or wanted to feel it, or that she could. But only those hands, made for her, given to him for her, like he had once said, could heal her.
She was running her smooth delicate fingers on his nape and upper back, drawing patterns and words they could not utter, since breathing was turning into a hardship at this point. Claire needed out of her stays, she felt restrained. All she wanted was his weight on her, his burning hot skin against her. She wanted to feel his muscles and scars, to kiss them, to lick his perfect worked stomach. Tonight she was hungry for him in a way that only love filled with lust could explain. And he is mine.
How is this woman mine? Jamie asked himself that question many times and caging Claire with his toned arms atop the bed just reminded him yet again of the wonder of her love for him. That flushed beauty, her mouth semi-open for his kisses, her teasing eyes… He ran his nose along her neck and caught her lips. She tugged on his hair for dear life and her tongue came out to dance with his, to claim him. Like any person else could compare… If he could, he would be claimed like this every single day of his life.
And the flames went higher…
Jamie held himself up on his elbows, close to the precipice of losing balance altogether, as Claire started running her foot up his calf, lifting the kilt ever so slightly. Biting him gently on the lower lip, she released the auburn curls and sat on the mattress. Like on their wedding night, he helped her untie the restraining stays, and exactly like on their wedding night their gazes didn’t leave one another. Only difference was, the desire was stronger, the air was heavier.
After removing the stays, Claire unbuckled the kilt’s belt and maddeningly teasing, slowly removed the plaid in all his glorious folds aside. He was intensely ready himself. It overwhelmed all her senses like always. If it weren’t Jamie, this lack of control would have left Claire nervous, but it could never happen with Jamie… “Jamie.” She breathed.
“I’m here, Sorcha.”
He lifted her shift over her head, the sudden gush of cool air caused by the movement of it making her nipples stiffen. That and the dark blue gaze that didn’t fail to shake her to her core. She was still in her stockings, one loose and one still fastened with a flimsy pink tie. She made a move to take them off but he didn’t let her, holding her hands, he placed them around his neck again, while he ran his hands up her glorious round arse and held her tight around the waist, closer to him. Not one inch of room left to breathe anything else but the sweet scent of each other, enhanced by the flames that only went higher.
He started kissing and sucking on her neck, tasting her herbal sweetness, moving one hand to comb her curls away. The only sound in Jamie’s ears were Claire’s exquisite soft moans. Those sounds that made him go mad, also made him relinquish all his senses to her incredibly smooth skin. Moving to her lips again, the intense and slow kiss held a promise of contained words. Words that were not enough to describe the chemistry that happened between them in these moments. He wanted to watch her lose herself.
Feeling Jamie peeling his beautiful mouth away from her, Claire whimpered. He replied by putting his forehead against hers and swayed for a bit holding her in place. One hand tucked her hair behind her ear and a cheeky smirk came upon his face as he dragged his hands over her arms and laid down. She knew what he wanted. And she wanted to give it to him.
That bed and its magic blue quilt was their sanctuary, a place that held many whispers and sweet nothings, said in the dark of the night and in the fresh light of the dawn.
Jamie lay down and placed a hand on his wife, his goddess, guiding her to climb on top of him. The sensations was overwhelmingly satisfying, it was a lightning coursing through them, echoes of thunder reverberating through their limbs. Smiling at her, he put both hands on her shoulders as she started to rock. Slowly, he let his arms run along hers and up again. Their breathing was erratic.
She was supporting herself on him, the marble of his torso feeling like an anchor in a sea of blue quilt. “You feel so good, Jamie.”
“Mo nighean donn”, he said in a whisper like sob. “Don’t stop, Claire…” Moaning, their hearts and bodies rode each other. Jamie placed his hand in the center of Claire’s chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of her heart, slowly reaching for her ivory breasts, kneading and teasing her.
He loved watching her - her head dropping backwards as she started to lose herself in the moment - trying to remain “bodily sober” enough to see her face change a thousand beautifully different ways with their lovemaking, but he too was about to lose it as well.
Claire leaned forward gifting her breasts to him and Jamie thought heaven was upon him. Taking one nipple in his mouth, he sucked and softly bit and felt Claire shiver under her hands. She held his head with some force and if Jamie were to die for lack of air, he would have died one happy man.
“You’re so beautiful, Claire. Please don’t stop mo nighean donn, more.”
“Oh Jamie, my love.”
Claire was starting to lose herself entirely, holding onto Jamie’s neck and shoulders wanting to kiss him, but not wanting him to take his mouth from where it was. Jamie groaned and sat up completely. She kissed him urging for his tongue to meet hers, trying to get into him and he was getting into her. So deep, so passionate, so so so much, but never enough.
Claire caressed his face, marveling at his furrowing brow, smoothing it, kissing it. They were still riding thunder as Jamie brought one hand down to touch the place, hot enough as to make metal melt, as to turn coal into diamond. Then, he buried his face in her neck, she burying her nails in his back, and ecstasy ensued. Together, they became one. Jamie kept his face on her neck, Claire was overdone with one long sob leaving her lips as the aftershocks came through. She couldn’t let go, she couldn’t breathe and neither could he.
After the lingering effects washed over them, Jamie held his well rested wife against him. She propped herself on her elbow, kissed and caressed his pecs and whispered, smiling, “Tha gaol agam ort, mo Seaumais”.
Ok so a shimada bro prank war at the watch point. It starts off as genji trying to olive branch to hanzo, they would play small pranks as a child. Hanzo isnt impressed, the more it goes on the harder it is to ignore until he wakes up after a really harsh drinking sesh with an undercut. All bets are off. Hanzo goes through all the petty pranks and they slowly get more and more extreme. He finally gets sombra to hack genji and makes it so everytime he goes near zenyatta cheesy love music plays out… hanzo didnt ask how she managed this but hes sort of regretting it once rick astley is stuck in his head.
Genji doesnt take this laying down and thus poor innocent mccree gets involved. Genjis dragon also drags hanzos into the fray, much to hanzos dismay. Genji makes sure mccree is as naked as possible at all times round hanzo, mccrees a bit concerned about genjis wellfare cause he doesnt seem to know his own strenght anymore or at least thats what he blames the ripped shirts and spilt beverages. A few ‘innocent’ japanesse phrases taught to the cowboy makes everything so much more fun especially with how eager the cowboy is to be close to the elder shimada.
Zenyatta doesnt realise what hes done when he corrects mccree. Thats not the right way to compliment someone mccree, i dont think thats quite a first date suggestion. Mccree is absolutely furious at genji thinking hes taking the piss out of his feelings. Which wasnt genjis intention, he wasnt aware there were emotions involved. He just knew mccree was flirty in his own language and english and hanzo was easily flustered.
The pranks die away then. Mccree avoiding hanzo at every point and hanzo didnt realise how much time he spent with the cowboy till he left the room as soon as the archer entered. Frankly the mood was bringing the whole team down. It took genji a week to finally crack, he explained to hanzo thar mccree didnt know about the pranks, his reaction when he thought genji was messing his feelings. Why he was avoiding him out of embarrassment not dislike.
Hanzo being hanzo stews for a few days until jack butts in after another fight with reaper. All about lost time and taking the first step and communication. Which leaves both of them sore when hanzo storms out with the word hypocrite leaving a sour taste on his lips.
He held off a few more days to childishly prove something to jack ( hes not sure what but it was sure as hell summat). He finds the cowboy in the training rooms, practically begs in his own stoic way when the man tries to get the hell outta dodge. Once hes no longer going to bolt he explains about the prank war. How it help and hindered the brothers reconciliation and how hanzo dragged zenyatta into their little war even if the result was plesent for both parties it was a bit insensitive of hanzo to flaunt his little brothers feelings in front of his desire. Not that genji didnt strike back, teaching the only guy that had truly held the elder shimadas attention flirty little phrases in his mother tongue and more often than not showed off more skin than was decent( this coming from a guy that cant wear a shirt right to save a life)
So yes jesse it was part of a prank war but it was based on the truth, the archers reactions a splash of honesty that the shimada would have prefered to keep hidden but its too late now hes decided honesty is the best policy. So if you would say just about anything now mr cowman it would be very appreciated.
And mccree didnt say a word, just pulled the other man into a rather gentle kiss, shivering as the two noodle dragons wrapped themselves around the couple.
The next day genji woke up with his body covered in magnets in the shape of dicks.
A week later a platnium haired hanzo could be seen chasing a laughing genji across the watch point.
The pattern carried on until winston enforced new rules.
These were broken when reaper snuck in and moved everything in jacks room a lil bit to the left. A bit mean to do to a guy thats nearly blind but jack got his revenge in more imagintive ways over the next few months and long intontheir 'retirement’.
Two years later mccree proposes with a little prank ring that gave a small electric shock when it was placed on the finger.this of course came in a little cowboy hat ring holder ( no one cried at the wedding and that is a universally acknowledged truth for everyone who wants to live a long happy life, gabriel has his ways kids dont test him)
We’re not supposed to have food in our rooms. It’s one of Watford’s most ignored
rules. It’s never enforced, and if the
rooms themselves have anything to say about it, they tend to keep their mouths
everyone I’ve talked to has some sort of stash in their wardrobe or under their
bed. Agatha loves her sherbet lemons,
and Penny has a seemingly endless supply of licorice hidden in a locked
cupboard. Only she knows the whereabouts
of the key, assuming she’s telling the truth and there is a key at all. As for me, I keep at least two mint Aero bars
tucked away at all times, though it seems no matter where I hide them, Baz
always manages to find them. Further
evidence of vampiric senses, if you ask me.
is more of a bring-food-from-the-dining-hall-into-the-room kind of person than
a secret stash person, at least I’ve never seen any evidence of a stash. I have to wonder what sort of things Baz
would keep hidden away. Rats maybe,
still alive to keep their blood warm for when he gets peckish. But then again, I would probably have noticed
something like that.
don’t know how he always manages to get food up to the room unnoticed, but I
also know he’s on a first-name basis with Cook Pritchard, so maybe he gets
he appears in the door this evening, tall and silent as ever, he’s holding a
steaming mug of tea. I don’t say
anything about it, I know better at this point.
He’ll just snap at me.
crosses the room and sets the mug down on his nightstand, dropping down to his
bed and uncurling to his back. I raise
an eyebrow at him, stretched out like a cat.
“What’s with you?” I muse.
throws a glance my way. “What?”
dunno, you’re just being… weird.”
you for your opinion, Snow, it’s entirely uncalled for as usual.”
roll my eyes. “Forget I said anything.”
turn back to my textbook with a scowl. Serves me right for trying to start casual
conversation, though maybe I was a bit rude about it. At least I can say I tried.
lays there on his bed for another moment or so, staring up at the ceiling,
breathing slowly and deeply like this is the first time he’s properly filled
his lungs in weeks. I glance at my
watch. I’m supposed to meet Penny in the
library to study in half an hour, I don’t need to go just yet.
Baz stands, he takes a detour on his way to the bathroom to reach over and flip
my book out of my hands.
the hell is wrong with you?” I call after him, but he responds simply by
slamming the door in my face.
Baz. Simple, stupid, but effective. Like a playground bully.
wonder if he gets any actual joy out of it.
heat of my anger is already fading, but it still frustrates me that he’s been
getting away with this kind of abuse all our lives and nothing I do ever seems
to deter him. It’s like he’s a giant and
I’m a pissed-off ant, biting and crawling and trying to hurt him, only to be
flicked away by a giant indifferent finger.
mug on the bedside table catches my eye, steam still curling off the tea. He hasn’t taken a sip yet, which is
surprising. Usually he drinks the stuff
practically straight out of the kettle, like it isn’t scalding his entire
throat on the way down. Maybe it’s not,
maybe that’s some obscure vampire thing.
Or maybe he’s just a prat that wants to look tough.
lightbulb that goes off in my head is almost audible as I watch the steam dance
above the mug.
my wand from the sheets beside me, I stand from my bed as quietly as I can and
tiptoe across to Baz’s nightstand, wincing with every creak from the
floorboards. The tea is that perfect
smooth colour, brown and soft with cream and sugar. Sparing a fleeting glance at the bathroom
door, I dip my wand down so that the tip just barely breaks the surface of the
tea, sending ripples floating away from the intrusion.
more salt,” I murmur in as soft a voice as I can manage, pushing the
crackle of magic from the base of my neck down through my wand arm and into the
was that, Snow?” Baz calls from the other side of the door. There’s a sudden splash of the sink.
didn’t say anything, twat,” I call back, carefully bringing my wand over my
mouth and letting the stream of droplets fall onto my tongue. It’s flowers and cream and… salt. Definitely salt.
smirk as I return to my bed. Mission
Baz re-emerges, I pull my textbook closer so he can’t knock it away again. I try to look appropriately engrossed. He doesn’t pause at the door, just goes
straight back to his bed, and though I can’t see his face in my periphery, it
seems as though he doesn’t suspect anything.
Needs more salt isn’t a proper spell,
per say. More of a charm. Penny says that spells occur when the words
play the biggest role. They are usually
well-known sayings or lyrics, things that carry a little bit of their own
magic, which makes them the easiest for beginning mages to master. Charms are different, harder to control. The power of a charm doesn’t lie in the words
but in the intent. The magic comes
entirely from the mage. Often charms
come out as accidents, when something is said with so much feeling that magic
simply slips in.
is quite good at charms, at putting magic into whichever words she
chooses. She insists that anything can be a charm with enough
Baz reaches for his tea, I can’t help but watch.
sure hope Penny is right.
raises the mug to his lips and takes the first sip.
features freeze like he isn’t quite sure how to arrange them.
a beat he lowers the cup and stares at it like it’s a puzzle, his brow
beginning to furrow.
takes another thoughtful sip, and this time the tiny curl of his lip betrays a
hint of disgust.
make sure to be staring back down at my book when he turns his gaze on me. I feel it burn into the top of my head, and
the burn spreads to my cheeks as I try not to crack.
still feel his eyes on me as he takes a long, pointed drink from the mug.
glance back at my watch. It’s still too
early, but Penny will probably be in the library already, and I don’t know how
long I can handle Baz’s stare.
close my book and stuff it in my bag, wearing what I hope is a neutral
expression and not a beet-red blush. I
stand from my bed and slip into my shoes.
I see him take another sip. When
I look at him, he’s still watching me, and his face is surprisingly clear for
someone drinking salted tea out of spite.
not fully sure which one of us is the winner here.
halfway out the door when I decide to break the tension.
Fool’s,” I state like it’s a simple good-bye before I shut the door.
two stairs down as he yells “IT’S NOT EVEN FUCKING APRIL YOU TWAT!”
i’m laughing imagine jake and amy looking after terry’s kids like trying so hard to keep them happy and nothing’s working and jake’s like “it better not be this difficult when we have kids” and amy’s like “tell me about it” and after a minute they both realise what they just said and kind of look at each other in shock and amy finally goes “we’ll talk about this later”
Taking baby and child spirits away from their parents is such an awful idea. Sometimes you have no choice to take in a child for their safety, or you can’t find an adult of their species to help care for them, I understand that and applaud anyone who can handle the difficulties. I have young spirits I’ve taken in for various reasons and some of them I couldn’t find an adult to help, because there were so few of their kind left I literally could not find a single other individual or they were exiled from their civilization for their (deceased) parent’s crimes or other reasons. I’ve rescued orphans of a species I had badly wanted to work with for a very long time where, after taking them to adults who could help, the entire species declared me an enemy because my involvement with the child meant I had a part in their tragedy, nevermind that I had been the one to rescue them. And I still returned the child knowing this would happen.
There are issues with babies that have been said before: Chances are that you’re not prepared for a human baby, much less a spirit where you do not even exist within the same plane and cannot be there for them the majority of the time they need you. The issue of exactly where you or the spirit shop obtained the child. That they’re a developing creature and not something cute to be your pet. I won’t list every issue.
But consider this too: No matter what you do, there is a high chance of the child’s development being stunted. It doesn’t matter what you are Over There, you’re a physical human here and this is where you are centered. Even if you are a member of their species Over There, can you really say that you have the full experience of growing up and adulthood necessary to raise them?
Can you show a dragon where their fire comes from or reassure them that yes this is what it feels like at their age and their feelings are perfectly normal, no their fire isn’t sick? Or reassure them that the bursts of magic and energy beneath their scales are at a normal level and you don’t need to see a healer? Do you know what to do when they get a headache from the influx of magic that every child of their species goes through? Can you make sure they’re learning everything the other dragon parents are teaching their hatchlings?
Or what about taking in a young demon and they have no choice but to follow you on this plane, how well equipped are you for handling the insecurity and other issues that can come from seeing the way humans view demons? What are you going to do when your child sees nothing but Christian depictions of evil demons and bad horror flicks? Are they even going to see anything beyond biblical demons in media if you live in a mainly Christian area, or are you going to have to deal with their issues from that as well?
When a multiheaded spirit with separate personalities can’t stop fighting and begins to hate themselves and wish they could remove the others, are you really able to help them through that? Do you have any idea how to talk with them? Do you even have the slightest level of personal experience so that they don’t feel like you don’t understand a single thing they’re going through?
With any number of predatory spirits, can you help them to understand that their urges are natural and everything is okay? And really help them to understand what is okay to hunt and what is not, and why you still have certain morals, and how to use their weapons and hunt properly and not get hurt in the process? To not get lost in their bloodlust? Gods forbid you have a cannibalistic spirit or one with major hunger issues, can you handle those instincts?
I could list any number of examples but my point is that you are a human on this plane and they are not, and your development cycles and learning are not mutual.
cs au. ‘there’s something about breaking an engagement and leaving the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with and finding yourself roommate-ing with the man who’s loved you through years and boyfriends and breakups and uncertainties that makes a person a little weepy, a little off balance, a little unsure.’
(i’ve been working on this for at least six weeks, and it’s finally, finally finished, and i’m something like pleased with it. (thanks to swallowedsong for looking over it and helping me and stuff.) so, enjoy whatever this is. (really long, among other things. just a head’s up.)
Packs up her share of the apartment instead of going to work, keeps Henry home from school so he can help. Wraps picture frames in scarves and sweaters, shoves books and DVDs into boxes, throws pots and pans and casserole dishes into the back seat. One trip to unload these small bits, another for Henry’s bed and dresser and nightstand.
It takes just over 6 hours to remove every trace of them from this apartment that was supposed to be theirs and is now just his, but she doesn’t cry as she sweeps through one last time. As she takes her key off the chain, locking the door behind her and slipping it underneath. She doesn’t feel broken or empty. Isn’t sure what it is pulsing through her, something that tastes like regret or maybe failure.
“Sorry, kid,” she says, eyes still dry, once they reach the car. He just shrugs. Smiles a small, sad thing.
I have this stupid idea in my head that at Victor and Yuri’s wedding that Pichit and Chris are best men (respectively). And Pichit goes into embarrassing detail about how much Yuri would fanboy over Victor when they lived together in Detroit and Yuri obviously gets very flustered and can hardly look his husband in the eye and Victor thinks it’s so precious. But then Chris fires right back and tells everyone about how Victor would call in the weeks after the banquet complaining how he couldn’t find a single trace of the beautiful pole dancing Japanese boy. Yuri is a little shocked, but can’t help laughing and gazing lovingly at the blushing Russian sitting next to him.
an honest question: is it cyber-stalking if an acquaintance repeatedly (and almost frantically) uses multiple forms to communicate with you when you don’t give them enough attention? Like jumping from Skype to text to Tumblr and Facebook messenger etc in hopes you’re more active on one of these platforms. And not for any business or school reasons, just for casual conversation, but often in short succession (like they texted an hour ago and because you didn’t respond they start trying to skype you). Like this is cyber-stalking, right?
And if yes, does anyone have resources on the emotional/mental impact and/or causes and what to do about it?