not rugby related

Favorite (not rugby related) parts of All Out!!! episode 17:

1 - Sekizan’s snort/laugh (every time he smiles a puppy is happily adopted into a warm, loving family).

2 - Ume-chan in a ponytail (while making the teacher feel included).

3 - Being plain is good ᕙ( ಠ ‸ ಠ )ᕗ

4 - Gion and Ooharano having a moment?

5 - This guy


Sekizan shyly asking for a second helping of dessert

Fanfiction - The Captain

This ficlet is a direct continuation of Cassiopeia, a story featured in my Constellations series – a modern AU with Jamie and Claire in college together. I had this on my mind since I first wrote Cassiopeia, so I hope you guys enjoy it! I apologize in advance for any errors rugby related – my limited knowledge about it came entirely from Google. See you on the other side lovies! <3

The Captain

“You really should go to bed.” She laughed as he pressed a kiss on her temple. The last one, which had been preceded by ten others, varying only on the place on her face they landed – all of them also the last one. “If people find out I’m the reason you stayed awake until – “. She glanced at her wristwatch, the luminous clock hands marking three hours after midnight. “Very – very - late and therefore didn’t get your proper rest, I’ll be skinned alive if we lose tomorrow’s game.”

“Ach.” He growled, nuzzling her hair. “What I’ll lack in sleep will be fairly compensated in spirits. I’m certain I’ll play my best game ever.”

“Hmm.” Claire giggled as he tickled her neck, brushing his lips on her sensitive skin. “At least I haven’t spent you.” She quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. “Is that really a rule before a big game though? That you can’t…hmmmmm?” She made a meaningful sound with her throat and wiggled her eyebrows.

Jamie snorted and blushed beautifully.

“Dinna ken.” He shrugged. “That has never really been an issue before. But,” He added conspiratorially. “If this is yer way of making me an indecent proposal…”

“Don’t be forward, James Fraser.” She playfully slapped his arm. “I don’t even know your full name yet and here you are – plotting to experimentally shag me in the bushes before a decisive game?”

“We aren’t in the bushes!” He defended himself. “It’s a fountain. And it’s James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. And ye’re not that good of a stalker if ye dinna ken that. I’ve known yer full name for months, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.”

They were sitting on the edge of a big fountain near their dorms. The weather was pleasant and warm, a light breeze making the brown leaves crack on the trees; a type of night that makes the blood sing and hum, propelling people to be a little reckless and share all their secrets in quiet embrace.

“I wasn’t stalking you!” She defended herself. “I just noticed you. A lot. I might have followed you at distance on occasion but that was entirely…”

He interrupted her by kissing her deliciously, a slow and sensual kiss that left a tightness on her belly.

“I have to go.” Jamie breathed and she could hear the regret in his voice. He held her face between his long and surprisingly gentle fingers. “Will ye come to the game? I’ll play better if I ken ye’re there.”

“A horde of wild ostriches wouldn’t stop me.” She smiled and gave him a light peck on the lips.

They walked together, hand in hand, the late hour shielding them from curious eyes until they reached Jamie’s dorm entrance. He hugged her by the waist, their bodies pressed together in an intimate but surprisingly natural way.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at all.” He confessed, caressing her waist with circular moves. “I’m too scared to wake up and find this was all a dream. The best dream ever.”

“So what’s your suggestion?” She asked, placing her arms around his neck and inhaling his addictive scent. “Skipping sleep altogether?”

“Sleep with me.” He blurted. “I mean - just sleep. Ian texted me saying he’s staying at Rupert’s tonight. So you could stay with me if ye wanted.”

Claire gave him a direct look. With any other young man she was acquainted with, this probably would be a shameless attempt of getting in her pants after only a few hours of making out. But Jamie was different – she knew it with astonishing clearness. He knew it was too soon for more intimacy – and wouldn’t risk their precious connection with a rushed gesture, seeking only fleeting pleasure. But her body ached to feel him beside her, surrendering to sleep under her vigilant eyes; she longed for the feel of him, dreaming within her reach.

“Alright.” She smiled. “If you think we can dodge the doorkeeper.”

They quickly agreed on a strategy – Jamie entered first and cheerfully greeted Mr. Culpepper, another unabashed fan of Jamie’s rugby abilities. They previewed the game tomorrow, how their rival’s full-back was an infuriatingly good catcher and how the weather would influence the wing’s performance. With Jamie’s imposing frame strategically positioned in front of Mr. Culpepper, blocking his view to the door, Claire half crawled half ran inside and up the stairs, holding the key to Jamie’s room.

“I think we’re condemningly good at this.” She gloated when Jamie finally joined her inside the room. She was already lounged against his pillow, wiggling her toes. “Maybe we are meant for a criminal career together.”

“How did ye ken that was my bed?” Jamie asked with a smile. “It wasn’t exactly tagged.”

“No.” She replied with a faint blush appearing on her neck. “But this one smells of you.”

They quickly made their arrangements for the night, Jamie entering the bathroom to change into his pyjamas bottoms, while Claire used the room to undress and put on an old and oversized t-shirt lent by Jamie. It certainly covered more of her than most of her dresses and night shirts.

“Well, what do you think?” Claire asked when he reappeared, opening her arms and giving a slight twirl. “I might keep this one. It’s a very comfy shirt.”

“Aye.” He gulped. Claire could see his chest softly heaving; his eyes darker than before, softly tracing with their gaze her elegant legs and her breasts under the cotton fabric. “I might have to insist that you do.”

They laid down together, awkwardness brought from their mutual arousal raising between them. They were on their sides, staring into each other’s eyes, too afraid to actually touch. Eventually Jamie gave a throaty laugh and, putting his arm around her torso, pushed her against his chest.

“Come here curly wig.” He said in a husky voice. He brushed her back, in a slow and soothing rhythm, helping her body relax against his. Their breathings became synchronized, their hearts pulsing in closeness, their bodies sharing a newfound familiarity – and they surrendered to sleep like one, facing each other - so when their eyes opened in the night’s quietness, they could continue to dream.


Claire woke up watching the soft light playing in the roof. She felt stiff from the lack of sleep, her head pleasantly drowsy – more alive than she had ever felt in her entire existence. She rolled to look for him but found only a note in the pillow beside her head that made her smile.

“Had to leave early to warm up and discuss tactics. Thank you for the best night of my life, mo nighean donn. Lunch after the game? J.”

When she approached the rugby’s field, she could already hear the roar and hum of an excited crowd, like a hive of bees. She managed to find some of her friends and luckily they had saved her a good sit, where she’d be able to enjoy the view of Jamie playing.

“And here comes the Oxford team,” The speaker shouted as the blue team emerged from the locker room. “Lead by the best fly-half Oxford has had in years, James “King of Men” Fraser!”

Claire cheered and whistled with the rest of the crowd, her heart swelled with pride and love at the sight of Jamie’s flaming red hair, contrasting with the deep blue of his jersey. He walked with grace and respectfully shook the hand of the captain of the red and black team.

He turned and looked at the crowd, clearly searching for someone. She knew he had spotted her, raising her hand to wave at him, when the corners of his mouth opened in a smile and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

Northumbria had prepared well for the game; their players were in good shape and had a pretty good flanker, a large man with the looks of an untamed gorilla – but in spite of their best efforts, they didn’t really stood a chance against the meteor of Jamie Fraser.

His kick was powerful; his commanding voice rouse the team to him. He seemed to always make the right decision and after a few minutes the home’s team was already leading comfortably.

“I have never seen something quite like it!” The speaker roared with excitement. “Fraser is on fire, he’s killing Northumbria! We are watching a legend be born! They form the scrum and Fraser is ready to receive the ball.”

Claire smiled as Jamie ran the field, knowing that he carried her with him; that she inspired him to achieve greatness.

Out of nowhere a player ran against him, scorn and anger propelling him forward, and tackled Jamie.

Claire watched in horror as Jamie flew across the air like a fallen bird and hit his head against the field – the red of blood hauntingly dripping from his head to his closed eyes, visible even at the distance.


She pushed the door of the infirmary and noticed he had company. Blonde, perky boobs and tiny denim skirt type of company.

Claire had been delayed getting to him because she had wanted to talk to the doctor first; she didn’t remember to breathe until he had reassured her that he had sustained only a minor concussion and a small wound in his scalp that he had already sutured.

She hawked and Jamie’s eyes noticed her, a glow appearing amidst the blue.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asked, her lips feeling cold and numb. “I can come back later.”

“No!” Jamie said hurriedly. He was lying on his back on the infirmary bed, his blue jersey’s white collar and shorts stained with dark red blood, a bandage already snuggly tied around his forehead. He was barefoot, someone having removed his boots and knee long blue socks. “Annalise was just checking in – she was about to leave.”

Claire raised a brow looking at the fair girl who presented Jamie with a surprised and very offended look.

“I brought my copy of Divine Comedy.” The French student pressed on, a tentative smile drawn on her lips, pretty in pink like a rose bud in the spring. “I thought I can read for you and keep you company.”

“Claire will stay with me.” He assured, his eyes never leaving Claire’s face. He looked undefended and slightly frightened. “Won’t you, mo nighean donn?”

“I will.” She said, still divided between annoyance with the presence of the member of his fan club and amusement at his clear embarrassment. “I won’t leave you unless you want me to.”

He grinned and nodded, grimacing with the pain the movement caused inside his head, his palm going to his temple to steady the dizzying feeling.

“Alright.” Annalise puffed. “I guess I’ll see you in class. Take care, Jamie.”

She reluctantly walked to the white door, her denim covered hips swaying like a gazelle strutting to allure the male, in a final desperate attempt of mating.

“Hmpf.” Claire snorted with a disgusted look. “I think you ought to thank me, Jamie – if I hadn’t intervened you’d probably end up tied to the bedframe with her straddling you.” She gave him a suspicious look under her lashes. “Unless that’s what you wanted? I can call her back here and you can have a bondage session declaiming Dante.”

“Are you jealous?” He asked somewhat smugly and certainly delighted. “The lass is naught to me, Claire. She gave me a wicked headache with her high-pitched voice though.”

Claire sat on the armchair by his bed, her hand searching his and entwining their fingers. Grounding her. Calming her. Stealing away the terror that had filled her chest at the sight of him, unconscious and bleeding on the muddy field. The nightmare of having him stolen away, when they had just found each other, still resounding in the corners of her mind.

“That probably has more to do with the two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle that hit you in the head.” She said tersely, touching his cheek. “That brute tackled you like a nasty bulldozer.”

“It’s the game.” Jamie highlighted with calm. “It’s not the first nor will it be the last time I get hit pretty roughly. But we won, aye?” He finished in a cheerful tone.

“Yes.” She gulped, breathing deeply to calm her panic. “I’m sure that would come as a great relief if you had died. Something to put in the tombstone and get people talking in the wake, you know?”

“Are ye upset?” He asked softly, watching her fidgeting with his fingers. Her eyes avoided his, focusing on the number seven engraved in white on his sleeve and the smaller “Fraser” stylized underneath it. “Do ye want to talk about it?”

“Not sure.” She murmured, smoothing his red hair with her eager fingers. “You need your rest, Jamie. We have plenty of time to talk later.”

“I canna sleep knowing there’s something disturbing ye.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, his short stubble prickling on her sensitive skin. “Is it the lasses singing in the stands? Because ye have to know they mean nothing and…”

“No. That’s not it.” Claire stopped him. “I’m just scared, Jamie. You are a wonderful player and I know that – you really shine when you’re out there and I get the thrill, I really do…”

“But…” He encouraged her, caressing her brow with his index finger.

“But I’m a doctor.” She exhaled, trying to gather her strength. “Well, not yet – but I wanted to be a doctor for, I guess you could say, all my life. The joy of soothing an excruciating ache, delivering a baby or fixing a broken bone is just…magical, you know? You really feel it’s more than a job – it’s a gift. A gift that someone gave you and you keep giving it back to other people.”

“Aye.” He nodded in understanding.

“I’m a healer.” She said in a low voice. “And this game is everything I fight against. It’s breaking and tearing apart. It’s crushing and mangling. I could see the beauty, the skill, the power behind it – but now, with you… I can only see the damage. I can only see a thousand different ways I could lose you.”

“Claire.” Jamie said softly. “Do ye want me to give up playing?”

“I want you to be safe.” She whispered fiercely, with a menace of tears strangling her voice. “I want you to be whole by my side, Jamie. I don’t want to have to heal you.”

“If ye’re asking me to quit the team,” He breathed deeply and looked at her, his blue eyes serious and honest. “I will. For you, I would do it. I would do anything.” His finger caught a tear that broke the barricade of her eyes.

“I could never ask you that.” She snuffled and gave him a tremulous smile. “It’s part of who you are and I wouldn’t change a single thing about it.”

He smiled, a tender and happy sight that warmed her to the very marrow of her bones.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, alright?” She raised from the chair and sat on the bed next to him. Her head carefully nestled on his chest; oblivious of the smell of sweat, mud and blood; craving only to feel the reassuring heat of him. The proximity. The immediacy of his life, heart throbbing strongly - still countless beatings left until the end. And she intended to witness them all, her ears flooded by the sound of his vibrant life. 

“You can be the captain to them; Jamie “King of Men” Fraser; the all-star player; the idol.” She scooted up and softly kissed his lips, their foreheads pressed together. “But to me…you have my heart. You are my heart. So take good care of it and keep it with you.”

Well, I heard William and Kate is doing an engagement with Harry..I rolled my eyes because they had the whole summer to do engagements…Why wait until Harry returns to do engagements..They’re using Harry’s popularity to get public support and I think Harry shouldn’t participate with them. I don’t like harry being a third wheel. ——— I don’t think William and Kate ever did something rugby related..