Jake and Amy have a housewarming party, Rosa is stressed, and Ben Wyatt is quoted.
It was the second time in less than three months that Rosa Diaz has found herself in the waiting room of a hospital, and frankly, she was getting quite tired of it.
(Granted, this time she wasn’t there because one of her best friends and possibly the love of her life was just hit by a goddamn bus and was barely holding on, but that didn’t make this trip any more pleasant.)
Niko could you imagine the adventures of neighbors blood moon and Steve
“NEIGHBOR STEVE! THE SON HAS REQUESTED THE PRESENCE OF CHILD TIMMY AT THE OVERNIGHT GATHERING OF YOUTH, UPON THE WANING MOON. THERE WILL BE A LIVE SACRIFICE AND FEAST! THE CHILDREN WILL HAVE A MOST EXCELLENT TIME!”
“THERE IS NO NEED TO YELL, NEIGHBOR STEVE. THE HELL-WIFE AND I WILL BE CHAPERONING THE EVENT. THE CHILDREN WILL NOT BE UNSUPERVISED.”
“NEIGHBOR STEVE, THERE IS NO NEED FOR SUCH LANGUAGE. I WILL INFORM THE SON THAT HE MAY LOOK FORWARD TO CHILD TIMMY’S ARRIVAL. HE WILL BE MOST PLEASED.”
I can see it now. Hellbeast and Neightbor Steve coming this fall to ABC in “What the F*** moved in next door?!”
In the first episode Neighbor Steve becomes terrified for Son Timmy’s immortal soul when he bring home his science partner the horrifying hellspawn who lives next door. He is even more horrified when the two appear to be getting along. Hellbeast is delighted. he believes can use The Son’s new found friendship to connect with Neighbor Steve.
Will there be a continuation of Claire as Jamie's neighbor, what will things be like when he comes back from France now that he and Claire are an item? Thank you for the amazing writing.
Anonymous asked: Hi I was wondering if Neighboring Love has a chapter three? I can’t stand the thought of Jamie and Claire being separated for so long. Anonymous said:Can you continue the most beautiful man in the world story? Great work on here, always love to see your updates!! Anonymous asked:Can you please continue the story of young Jamie and Clair falling in love on Quarter Day before he goes to France? I think it was called Neighboring Love. Thank you! Anonymous asked:Totally loved today’s fic with awkward teen love J&C at Quarter Day, I don’t typically ask but will there be more possibly fast forward to J coming home from France?
I tightly clutched the fine gold chain Brian had given me that held the ring from Jamie in my hand. The ring felt like my lifeline and in the palm of my hand; I could feel it pulse with my heartbeat.
“He should be here by now,” I murmured to myself, staring beyond the Broch where not a soul could be seen in the distance.
The worry in my heart became a pit in my stomach. All I want was Jamie home, and safely so. Three-hundred sixty-five days and eight hours had passed since he left for France, three-hundred sixty-five painful and lonely days. His letters came as frequently as would be expected, about twice a month. I couldn’t help but cherish each word on the page he had written. Some so much that the paper itself had begun to rip at the folds. I had written back to him, detailing the goings-on at the estate and the strangers that had traveled though.
One such stranger never left. I could feel his lecherous gaze from the fields now. His gaze made me feel as though something slimey had oozed all over my body. Involuntary shudders wracked my body in revulsion and not from the crisp Scottish air that whipped my hair around my face. When Jamie’s reply to the stranger his father had kept on as a farm hand came in, I could see the anger and frustration with every stroke of the pen. His letters were cramped together, more spiked than his usual elegant curved writing, and some were smudged, indicating he had given up formalities and used his left hand to hastily scribble his remarks. I felt an odd sense of pride and security with his response, knowing the moment Jamie arrived, the young Lieutenant Randall would undoubtedly cease his advances.
“Claire!” Jenny called from the door. I turned to see my soon-to-be sister standing, arms crossed, on the stoop. “It’s nearly supper. Come inside and have a bite to eat. Jamie will be here when he gets here. Freezing yourself outside willna bring him home any faster.”
Sighing, I gave one last longing gaze out towards the mountain pass and slowly made my way indoors.
Jenny linked her arm with my own, ushering me to the sitting room.
“I thought you said supper was about ready?” I questioned, arching an eyebrow.
“Oh aye, and it will be in another hour or so.” Opening my mouth to protest, I was cut off when Jenny raised a hand. “I’ll no’ argue with you Claire, but the young red coat is eyeing you something fierce and it’s no’ a pleasant eyeing either. Da has about bloodied his face on several occasions. Ye need take care of your surroundings, sister.”
Jenny’s face was etched in worry, the softness in her tone alerting me to how serious the situation actually was. My questioning look softened and I gently took Jenny’s hands in my own. “I will try to be more aware. I just can’t keep my mind from Jamie.”
“Jamie,” Jenny said at the same time. “Ach, I ken that well. He’s taking his time. Ye ken how he is with the sea sickness. Murtagh probably had to let him rest a day or two before taking off for home. You’ll see, by the time supper starts on the morrow or the following eve, Jamie will be home.”
A look of wickedness glinted in her eyes. “I canna wait to see what Jamie thinks of your current sleeping situations.”
“Why would he care where I’ve been sleeping? He’s already informed that I’ve been living and sleeping in the estate. Uncle Lamb too!”
Jenny only grinned like that cat who got cream for her supper and shrugged. “I suppose you’ll have to tell me what he says, or doesn’t say since you’re so sure he’ll no say anything, of the room you’ve taken as your own.”
By the time supper had started, my appetite had disappeared. I sat at the table mournfully pushing the venison stew from side to side.
“Take care, Claire. Mrs. Crook fixed up a mighty fine supper. Ye’ll be needing your strength,” Brian said loudly, garnering everyone’s attention. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment.
Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Jamie wouldna like to hear that his bride hasna been eating nor taking care of herself. I see the disappointment on your face and even more in your eyes. He’ll be home and when he does get here, he’s going to want you awake and healthy, no sick or weak in bed.”
My cheeks burned harder as I took a sip of the broth. Brian patted my shoulder. “That’s my girl,” I thought I heard him say, but I couldn’t be sure.
The next morning dawned just as gray and lugubrious as I felt. Jamie didn’t show up in the middle of the night. I knew it was a silly wish, but my heart still ached in disappointment. I could tell Jenny was sending me to the gardens just to get my mind off of Jamie and his unknown whereabouts. The smell of mint, thyme, and other various smells surrounded me in a therapeutic way. Each plant giving off it’s own unique aroma as it grew, or a more pungent scent as it’s being plucked.
“Mistress Beauchamp?” A clipped English accent jolted me out of my methodical ministrations.
Clutching a sprig of thyme to my heart, I looked up to see Lieutenant Randall standing directly on top of the freshly sprouted rosemary. It took enormous effort on my part to not glare at him or shoo him from my herb garden.
“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” I asked, voice full of annoyance.
He quickly pulled his hat from his head and twisted the brim between his hands. “I was hoping you may be able to answer a question that has been burning me?”
His voice was shaky and not at all what I imagined ever to come from the lecherous Lieutenant.
“What’s the question, Lieutenant? Is it something medicinal you need help with? I’m sure there are more advanced healers in the area, but I’ll be happy to try and help you in whatever way I can.”
He looked down, shuffling his feet uprooting the new rosemary plant. My anger was being contained just below the surface of my skin. I could feel the prickling sensations of white hot anger begin to pull at my arms and the back of my neck.
“Would you do me the great honor in accepting my courtship? An English Rose such as yourself deserves so much more than what the Scottish Countryside can offer. I’d be most obliged if you were to accept my hand in courtship so that I may restore you to your rightful place, and hopefully as a respected lady of a well decorated English Officer.”
“I-I,” I choked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Would you please do me the honor of–”
“Yes, I heard you the first time,” I interrupted him. “Why would you think I need to be restored to any place? I grew up not three miles from this estate from the time I was a young girl. The Scottish Countryside is my home.”
“How can you say such a thing?” Lieutenant Randall yelled. “This country is full of backward barbarians and you, an English lady, consider yourself at home here?”
I nodded slowly as I stood to look him in the eye. “Yes, I do consider this country my home. Are we not still on English soil? Technically the Scottish countryside is a part of England and has been for quite some time. I don’t see these people as backward or barbarians! They are my friends, and some so close I would dare to say even family. I love the peacefulness here, the beauty of the mountains and lochs. Do you not see the area around you and feel complete awe and serenity?”
“We are not in England,” he sneered, his grip on his hat tightening to the point his knuckles went white. “We are in a Godforsaken land that I’ve been dumped in. I’m trying to make the best out of this hellish situation and rescue you from this hell!”
His arm darted out and gripped my forearm, pulling me tight to his chest. I felt my entire body recoil at his touch. “I’ll ask again, madam. Will you do me the honor in accepting my courtship?”
“She canna accept your courtship, sir,” a thick Scottish brogue spoke from behind me. I nearly wept in relief. Jamie was home.
“Oh, and why’s that? You’re nothing but a Scottish whoresson! Who are you to say what she can and cannot accept? I asked the lady, not a barbarian such as yourself!” Lieutenant Randall’s face had gone a rather odd shade of puce in his anger, and his grip tightened painfully on my arm.
“Och, because she’s betrothed to myself, that’s why. The lass is being kind and trying to let you down easy by ignoring the question. Ye see, my name is James Fraser, the future Laird of the ground on which you stand. And I’ll ask ye this once, to take your hands off my wife.”