damn scotland

2Ps as shit people who go to my school have done

Canada: Somehow misheard “I don’t like to get my hands dirty, especially when drawing” as “I don’t like to get my hands dirty, especially when drunk driving”

America: Dabbed so hard his glasses flew off

Russia: “I wear black to be edgy-”

Italy: Drew a pentagram on someone else’s art project

Romano: Played Wannabe by the Spice Girls in the middle of class and jammed tf out

Germany: “Pugs are not cute tHEY ARE FORCED TO INBREED AND IT IS VERY PAINFUL, (my name)”

Prussia: (German foreign exchange student asks where the pencils are) “.. What’d you just say? I thought you were talking about German wartanks-”

Japan: Got so surprised he accidentally said “nya” and then proceeded to hate himself for it

China: Brought a red panda plush to school and kept having to yell “IT’S NOT A FOX” at people

Francois: Taught his classmate how to say “Fuck your mother” in French because he kept getting in trouble for saying a word that technically isn’t a swear

England: Drank caramel syrup straight outta the bottle. When asked why, replied with “It’s thick and delicious  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)”

Scotland: Gave him the caramel in the first place. Saw how uncomfortable everyone was seeing that and proceeded to give him another bottle.

  • Norn: Where is everyone?
  • Ireland: This calls for drastic measures.
  • Norn: *uses his hands as a megaphone* ENGLAND'S FOOD SUCKS!
  • England: NO IT DOES NOT.
The Reynolds Pamphlet/ Jekyll and Hyde

The London Paper!

Have you read this?

There’s a killer out in London’s Streets!

So you better beware-

‘Cause he causing us a great scare!


This man against us is known by many yet without a name,

and for his actions of horrendous violations

At this time, they’ve yet to find a reason for such strife,

But he prefers to use a cane

Rather than using a knife!


He’s got a dreadful hatred for ‘em

Those of them in the high class

in the high class?

in the high class!


And Scotland Yard being senseless,

Without the slightest indication as to who



Have you read this?

We’ll we’re never gonna be safe again now!

Never gonna be safe again now!

We’re never gonna be safe again now!

Never gonna be safe again now!

That’s one more thing to worry about!

That’s one more thing to worry about!


I came as soon as I heard!



(‘Aint she from the brothel? …. DAMN!)


Lucy, my god, what do you think your doing here!


It is Hyde I fear!

I know this monster is the cause of outcry

You will never find anyone with such a twisted mind!

I know this demon is a curse on mankind

He has let his wickedness grow inside, over time!

Put what I said aside-

There’s no where else to hide!

He will never stop ‘till he’s died!

God, I’m truly terrified!                                                       

We’ll we’re never gonna be safe again now!      

Never gonna be safe again now!               

We’re never gonna be safe again now!   

Never gonna be safe again now!            

That’s one more thing to worry about!                       

That’s one more thing to worry about!

anonymous asked:


Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Scotland should never have been part of the UK in the first place. The only reason the Act of Union got signed in the first place was the English Crown bribed everyone who got a say. I figure 1715, 1719, and 1745 demonstrated that rather a significant chunk of Scotland was less than pleased with the way it worked out too. Follow that up with Culloden and the post-’45 Highland Clearances, and it’s not surprising London has a higher population than Scotland. Given how much effort was put into getting rid of the Scots.

anonymous asked:

We all know that, realistically, Claire wouldn't have gone back through the stones any sooner, even if she knew Jamie was alive, not when it meant leaving her child behind - but what if she had to come back because of Brianna? What if, with Bree originally being meant to be born in XVIII century, and with only one of the parents being a traveler, she was getting sicker every day and the only cure was to get her back to her own time? A druid-lady can diagnose her ;)

Brianna moaned from the sofa in Claire’s office. Her brow was slick with sweat, face the pallor of chalk, and her small body curled up in a ball trying to fight off the pain in any way possible.  

Claire looked down at her daughter, distraught and frantic with herself for not being able to help. Colleague after colleague made their way into her office eager to help and all left with forlorn faces and disappointment.  

“I’m sorry, LJ. I wish there was something I could do for her. You know I would if I could.” Joe whispered and clapped a hand to Claire’s now shaking shoulders. “Take this time to be with her. She’ll—” Joe cleared his throat, his voice becoming thick with emotion. “She’ll want someone who loves her beside her when it happens.”

“Oh, God!” Claire sobbed as she stared at her only reason for living growing weaker by the second.  

“Mama?” Bree’s broken voice called out, barely audible.  

“Yes, sweetheart. Mama’s here. I’m right here.” Claire said rushing over to kneel by her daughter.

Claire lightly moved a wayward ruddy curl from Bree’s face, committing the silkiness to her memory.  

“Mama, I don’t feel good,” Bree whimpered out, her pale face splotched with fever flushed cheeks.  

Stroking her head, Claire whispered, “I know sweetheart, I know. Mama is trying to make it better. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

A feeble nod came from Bree and she turned her head to the side to face her mother—eyes glassy and unfocused. “Right here,” she said and pointed to her chest, just above where her heart lay.  

Claire grimaced and felt her stomach drop like a lead ball. She picked up Brianna and set her in her lap, curling herself around her frail child.  

“Is it normal for me to dream of places I’ve never been, Mama?” Bree muttered turning over to bury her face in Claire’s chest.  

“What sort of places, darling? It’s very normal to dream of far off lands and places your mind longs for.”  

“I-I’m not sure where it is,” she said, nuzzling deeper into Claire’s safe embrace. “It was really green and so cold!” her small body trembled with the memory. “There were these purple flowers that covered the hills and people laughing while running through them.”

Claire smiled and vowed if Brianna survived this, she would take her anywhere that her heart desired. “That sounds like a lot of places, darling. Could you tell me more?”

“Well, there was this one place, and I go there a lot, that was super tall! Like an apartment building, only it looked like a castle! It was a yellowish white stone all over, with a big garden and horses.” Bree tilted her head up and Claire could see the smile on her face, “It was so beautiful, Mama. I like it there—even if the people talked funny and had weird clothes.”

“Oh, really?” Claire exclaimed, a smile on her face. “Tell me about these funny accents and clothes. I want to hear all about it.”

And Brianna did; she told her mother everything she could remember from her dreams. The endless hay fields, the babbling brooks, and the little kids she played with while she was there, all depicted with the utmost care and excitement. As her stories went on, Claire couldn’t help feel a pang of regret. The children and area Bree described eerily reminded her of Lallybroch, and the people she spoke of sounded like the family she longed to return to.

“—and there’s this big tower with a silly name! Broch Tuarach, it means north facing tower.”

“North facing tower,” Claire said at the same time as Brianna, who was giggling.  

“It’s round so it doesn’t face any way, but the door,” Bree covered her mouth giggling with even more enthusiasm. “The door faces north!”

“Does it indeed, darling? That is a silly name for a tower.  You are quite right.” Claire felt her skin crawl with electricity and a knot—that had never fully gone away—tighten even in her chest.


“Yes, Mama?” Bree said through her giggles.  

“Did you meet a man there that had the same colored hair as you?” Claire dared to ask. Her heart stuck in her throat.  

Bree’s eyebrows scrunched up in thought. “Umm… I don’t think so. There was a very nice man with a peg leg and there was one who used to live in a cave—but he always wore a hat. I never saw his hair. He’d come out to say hi sometimes, not very often. But he did tell the best stories!”

Disappointment flooded through her. For a moment, Claire had hoped that Bree would have had a glimpse of her father through a dream world.  

“He sounds wonderful.” Claire kissed the top of Bree’s head and sat up. “It’s best we get home. Maybe you’ll dream again of this magical place.”

“Alright, Mama,” Bree replied sleepily.  

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