I’m an assassin and was on a mission when I ended up seeing you. I thought you were cute and wondered what you were like until I realized that you were part of a group I was supposed to take out and now I don’t what to do because you’re actually really nice to old ladies and animals and stuff.
This story is lovingly dedicated to the absolutely delightful @mywoolmitten, who so generously provided many of the plot points and even let me move some bits of her Michigan farm to the Scottish Highlands, so that our Modern Glasgow Frasers could have some fun. Love you, Mitts!
Claire turned back from the passenger seat in the Range
Rover. In the middle seat, Rollo’s head on her lap, pouted eleven-year-old
Julia. Eighteen-year-old William squirmed in his seat beside her, not best
pleased to have been dragged out of bed early on a Saturday morning.
“It’s verra close, *a nighean.*Just a few more minutes,
Jamie glanced over his shoulder to check for oncoming
traffic before turning off the highway onto the side road, following the signs
to Forget-Me-Not Farm. He slowed to make sure that the wee caravan – Fergus and
Marsali in their battered Mini, and Faith, Brianna, and Roger in Faith’s Volkswagen
– had also made the turn.
“I dinna understand why we’re going to a sheep farm, of
all places,” William huffed. “I dinna like Auntie Jenny’s merinos, they always
want to bite my fingers off.”
“Well this is an actual sheep farm – thousands of sheep –
and they sell all kinds of yarn and woolen products.” Claire sipped from her
to-go cup of coffee, holding it carefully as Jamie guided the car around a
particularly large pothole. “They also produce some of the wool that is used to
make your kilt – remember, the one you were so excited to get for your last
William sighed theatrically.
“It’s part of yer culture, laddie!” Jamie exclaimed. “And
ye have to humor yer sisters every once in a while, aye?”
“Sometimes I feel that’s *all* I do,” he muttered.
Claire whirled to face her son, eyes narrow.
He sighed, shook his head, and turned to watch the moors
roll by the window.
One final bend in the road – and then a field dotted with
gray and black and white fuzzy bodies for as far as the eye could see.
As soon as Jamie had parked the car, Julia almost flew
out the door, running to the fence to get eye-to-eye with her favorite animals.
“They’re Shetlands, mama!” she exclaimed, vibrating with
excitement. “Look how beautiful they are!”
Faith and Brianna quickly came to their wee sister’s side,
Roger standing back with Fergus, Marsali, and William. Fergus gently rubbed the
small of Marsali’s back as she caressed the swell of her belly.
“I’ve never met someone who can be so excited about
*everything,*” Roger mused, watching Julia reach through the fence to lovingly
pat a Scottish Blackface on the nose.
“She has always been like that,” Fergus murmured, kissing
his wife’s temple. “She has brought so much joy to our family – she is a
literal ray of light. For all of us.”
The men startled as Jamie soundlessly crept up behind
them and clapped a solid hand on their shoulders. “Well then – let’s let the
wee ones have their fun. Yer Mam tells me there’s a good shop to explore – and they
even make their own whisky!”
It took William a while to get the hang of it, but soon
he had spun more yarn than his sisters.
“Are ye sure ye’ve never done this before, lad?” The kind
shopkeeper, clad in homespun woolen mittens, squinted at the pile of soft blue
yarn beneath William’s spindle.
“I haven’t, I swear! It’s just – weel, I had thought that
only *girls* would like doing this.” His voice was shy, but strong. “I like it.
“It’s no’ fair – my fingers are smaller than yours!” Julia
frowned at her much smaller pile of yellow yarn.
“Now, now – it’s no’ a race. Quality is *always* more
important than quantity.”
Julia huffed softly, but bent to her work.
From her vantage point across the room, Claire smiled –
so happy to see her son actually enjoying himself.
“What do ye think, Mother Claire?” Marsali, beaming in
her sixth month of pregnancy, appeared at Claire’s elbow, holding a wee woolen
Claire smiled – still getting used to the idea that she
would soon be somebody’s grandmother.
“I think it’s beautiful,” she replied, giving her
daughter-in-law a quick, impulsive hug. “And I’m sure Faith would love to make
you something, too – ”
“Oh, aye – we’ve already talked about it. She said that
Brianna is making her her own spinning wheel, and it should be ready in time
for when the bairn comes.”
“That sounds just like the two of them.”
Nineteen-year-old Brianna and twenty-year-old Faith studied at the same uni –
and lived in dorms right next door to each other. She and Jamie had thought it
would perhaps be good for the girls to get a bit of separation, but the girls
had refused – and instead had become even closer since moving away from home.
“And it looks like she may be able to use some of William
and Julia’s yarn – or William’s anyway.”
“Are ye the mother of those two young spinners?”
Claire turned to face the shopkeeper, whose arms now
overflowed with knitting patterns.
“Yes – thank you for being so patient with them!”
“Oh, it’s nae bother! So nice to see boys so interested
in learning the craft, so to speak.”
Marsali quietly stepped away as the two older women began
discussing the different plants and herbs that were used to create the natural dyes
which were used to color the yarn produced by Forget-Me-Not Farm. Mother Claire
always had an interest in such things – and she smiled at the thought that
Fergus could probably write an interesting article or two about it.
Speaking of Fergus – her eyes scanned the shop, but didn’t
find her husband. Not even in the section with the homemade snacks and drinks.
“Do you like sheep, Roger?”
Roger slung an arm around Brianna’s shoulder as Fergus
stretched his legs on the other end of the bench.
“Never really been around sheep, to be honest – I grew up
in Glasgow, wi’ my uncle. The closest I ever got to a sheep was Mrs. Graham’s
Faith and Jamie rounded the corner, heads bent in deep
“…see that round house behind the shop?”
“Aye – the sign said that they use it now to bake
pastries and such.”
Jamie looked up and frowned at his daughter, son, and
putative son-in-law lounging in the sun.
“Up off yer arses! Breathe in the fresh country air!”
Roger rolled his eyes at the Great Scot’s insistence on
physical activity so early in the morning – but he *was* Brianna’s father,
So together they walked down the winding path, past the
barn and beside yet another paddock full of blissful sheep to the
octagonal-shaped red building.
“Oh Lord – is that cinnamon bread?” Roger groaned.
Fergus glanced over at his wee brother. “Race you to it?”
And then Roger took off like a shot, Fergus close behind,
Faith and Brianna and Jamie watching, laughing, and just happy to be alive.
“Thank you so much again, Mrs. – ”
“Everyone calls me Mitts – you may also.” The shopkeeper
pushed her spectacles back up her nose, smiling at Claire, Marsali, William,
and Julia – who was still pouting, but very proud of the small skein she had
“And now let’s go find your Da – I hope he hasn’t
wandered off somewhere…”
“He’s probably up at the roundhouse – there’s a great big
cistern at the bottom that was used in the old days to pipe water directly into
the main farmhouse. And that’s where our ovens are, for the farm kitchen.”
“That sounds like something Bree would love,” William remarked,
still fingering his skein. “And Da always loves to eat, so – ”
“It’s just past the shop – turn left and follow the path.”
Claire took the bags and nodded in thanks to the kindly
“Thank you, Mitts!” Marsali exclaimed. “I will be back in
the springtime with the bairn – so many lovely things for you to choose from!”
The woman beamed with praise, and then the Frasers were
stepping along the path to the roundhouse.
William was right – Brianna was deeply engaged in a
conversation with someone who looked like a farm employee, gesturing toward the
corner where the cistern had to be. Fergus was perusing the tray of
freshly-baked scones cooling on the butcher-block counter. And Jamie, William,
and Roger –
“James Fraser. Is that whisky?”
From his perch on an old barrel, Jamie raised a glass to
“It is, my love. Matches the color of your eyes. Have a
wee nip wi’ me?”
"Person A meets their soulmate(person B). Some sign tells them they are soul mates (seeing color in a B&W world, matching birth marks, etc). But they hate each other. With a passion. They are out to make the other one fail.” AU
is finally done! omfg thank you so much to this awesome bro who just volunteer to draw the next part! (well it supposed to be Vexen cause i put his play there but,NVM! Vanitas will take the place for a while ^^”)
so whens the awaited sequel to parentstuck, grandparentstuck (disclaimer: this is a joke im not actually expecting you to do this, do what ya want)
picture this: 2018
we need to talk is in its 35th part after an unexpected 11th intermission, the janshu Bad Comic has updated twice in two years and in parentstuckjamie and anshu decided to have a baby after gamzee got tired of everyones bs. the child is named dab. people are still eating my biscuits on my very own private lawn and when the hell is the next update coming out