yer faces

J/C Fic

First and foremost to all my new followers…and there seems to be a decent amount of you. That kinda makes me nervous, but…I am a shipper. I ship end game. I don’t care if you’re a shipper/neutral or anti. All are welcome if they wish. I only care if you’re a hater. If you are, kindly move along. I have no time for negativity. I typically write S/C stories, with the occasional Outlander one thrown in.

Fic prompt from @massivelycasualtyrant

While I know she wanted something sexier, the story she gave me could not have been anything that what it became. I swear I had ghost around me. My ghosts, writing this. I didn’t want them, but they were there.

I cannot write Jamie for the life of me, and I hate that I can’t, but there you have it. But it’s his story and only he could tell it.

Originally posted by yellowfeather84

Pernicious Bliss

I gripped the shift, thin and worn, like it was still draped along yer body… 

With a thunderous howl, the wooden door was wrenched open, Jenny appearing on the other side. I could see her brush the soot off her skirts, but I dinna look up. I could feel m’heart beating something fierce; racing round like Jenny’s wee bairns after the chickens.

I felt the dress ripped from my grasp, and a tear sprung from its edge. I stood quickly, ducking out from under the cubby, but looked down upon my sister with an anger I could feel surgin’ inside of me.

“Give it back.”

She stood back, holding the shift up high, tight in her hand. “She’s gone, Jamie. Ye said so yerself. Why must you keep bringing her back?”

“Janet Murray,” I could hear my words, steady and firm, “Ye give me back my wife’s clothes, or I

swear- “

“Swear what?” Jenny stood before me, her eyes blazing, “Ye canna do a thing to me, James Fraser. I come to tell ya the red-coats have gone, so ye can ferret back up to yer hole in the hills, and I find ye frozen in place, wi’ your face in her shift. She’s gone.”

I pulled the shift from her fingers, holding onto it for dear life. I wouldna let go of this, the way I had with her hand that night, so long ago.

“Aye. She’s gone,” I agreed. “I’m reminded of it every day. Claire was,” I stood straight as an arrow, my voice lowering, “Claire is my wife.” I was quiet, our anger equal in fierceness, but on opposite sides. “And what do you mean by hidin’ this from me all this time?” I waved the shift in my fist, before bringing it to my nose and closing my eyes. Her memory always pricked my skin like a thistle, but I felt alive in that pain; her face reflecting back in my blood.

I grabbed the bag Jenny and Ian had filled wi’ food and trinkets to keep me entertained, and stealin’ a quick glance outside to make sure the soldiers had disappeared as quickly as they had come, fled back to the home I had lived in for nearly six years.

Wi’ the red-coats so close tonight, I couldna make a fire. But as I sat in my cave, the chill of the wall against my back, I ken I wouldna be cold tonight. I breathed in her scent, faint, but still there, “Ah, mo nighean donn, you’ll keep me warm, will ya not, Sassenach? Ye always could.”

“Jamie, everyone’s awake,” she hissed, pushing my hand away from her breast.

“Aye, everyone is,” nudging my morning wakefulness against her round behind. She laughed a laughed that warmed my soul each time it floated passed my ears.

She tried to pull away from me, giggling “Your feet are cold.”

“Hmm…I ken you’ll warm em up.”

She turned over in my arms, her breath hot against my lips. I kept trying to catch them, but she’d keep on pulling away, giggling, before coming close again.

“Sassenach,” I growled, before showin’ her I could take what I wanted. I gripped her body, pullin’ her into me. She ran her fingers along my side, just in the wee spot she ken would always get me. I laughed, lettin’ her break free, until she rolled on top, pinning my arms above my head.

“I win.”

“Did ya now?” I quirked my brow nudging my cockstand against her bottom.

She laughed, her body falling atop mine, pressing her breasts against my skin, my arms free to wrap round her body. I buried myself in her hair, inhaling, and she whispered in my ear, scratching her face across my beard, “What is it you want, Jamie?”

I fell against my blankets, her shift, heady wi’ her scent, even after all this time, whirling around my brain.

I closed my eyes, taking hold of myself through my breeks. It had been so long, I dinna want to disgrace her wi’ what I was doin’. But I couldna stop myself.

“Could ya maybe, Claire?”

I could hear her answer, it came through the cave softly, and wrapped around my body, keeping me safe and warm, as she took my cock in her hand.

Each night she’d come. I’d watch her face lookin’ upon me from the walls; her smile caught in the steady flow of water, dancing along the stones, hiding in between the cracks, before bursting through the other side with fire and light.  I would feel her hand upon my cheek, her breath upon my lips. She was soft, those nights. Her skin chilly and smooth. Pernicious bliss, I thought with a smile. She was lovely in the dark. Almost hidden, my thoughts only allowing for fragments of her to come through.

“You know I’m not really here, Jamie,” she would say.

I would just hold on tighter to her shift, curling myself into her body.

The nights a fire was lit, though, she was fierce. Her anger, punching me in the chest, ferocious and strong, leaving marks, wounding my flesh. Or was tha’ me? She was strong and passionate, then. Would push me to the wall, grabbing and fighting, thrashing about. She rode me hard, those nights. Taking her own pleasure wi’ every part of my body; her hair wild, falling across her shoulders. She was strong in the fire.

Some nights, she’d walk away from me. I would see the shape of her through her shift, the dampness causin’ it to cling to her hills and valleys, just so. Her nipples pointing hard through the thin cloth. As the ember flame perished, I’d shiver. I’d call her back, my legs not moving to run for her. She’d duck, curling herself around the edge of the cave so that all I’d see were her fingers clinging to the stone. I’d call out to her, my throat hoarse from the smoke and chest tight wi’ fear.


I’d wake with my hands bloodied from the ground, the dirt itching under my nails. I’d look to the entrance, the light barely shining through, and she wouldna be there. She wouldna be there until I breathed her in, calling her forth, again. Then, she’d come.

My heart would warm, beating faster beneath my chest.

“Oh, mo chridhe. You are a sight.”

I’d watch her dance in the cave, the dark, damp walls turning to the blue paper of the Laird’s room. Our room. She’d sing songs to me, from her time. Songs that would make me laugh, and she’d laugh along wi’ me. She’d take my hand, pull me up beside her.

“Dance with me, Jamie.”

“Ye know I canna dance, Sassenach,” I’d say.

“I can’t sing, has that stopped me?”

I would laugh, hearty and healthy, “Nah. And I would never wish ye to.”

And we would dance, her voice echoing around the cave, bringing it to life. All the creatures hidden in the dark would slink out, coming to clap and stomp their feet as we did.

We’d fall into the piles of blankets and I would kiss her deeply, lifting her shift up, and I would push inside her. My name would fall from her lips, and the creatures around us, would leave us in peace.

Some nights I was quick. Some nights I would take my own pleasure inside her body, forgetting her. Other nights, I would love her in every way imaginable. I would kiss every part of her, leaving a trail of heated flesh that would bubble up in the cool night air. I would nurse from her breasts, let her nourish me, before moving on. I’d play around her tummy, my tongue tickling her by her sides, and she’d push me away in fun, but she’d always pull me back. Back into her.

I would taste in her most private of places, her honey pooling on my tongue as her legs would tighten around my head. And when she called to me, when she would beg to be taken, only then, would I enter her, swiftly and to the hilt. And I would be home. We would be home.

I turned my head, my fingers drawing across the scars on my back. The scars she left from the night before. I set her aside, dropping the shift to the blankets, and I would brush away the dried blood, only nothing fell away; so, I’d feel again, but the marks under my fingers were old. Nothing remained but scars from so long ago.

I would break. I would fall to my knees, cursing you. Cursing God! I promised I would gladly walk through two hundred years of purgatory for ye Claire. But did ye have to punish me yerself, while I did?

I settled myself in, one hand tucking under my breeks as the other held yer shift to my face, once more. I closed my eyes and ye came to me with yer hand open, taking hold of mine, beneath the breeks. I could smell yer hair all round me.

I buried myself in her hair, inhaling, and she whispered in my ear, scratching her face across my beard, “What is it you want, Jamie?”

“You.” I dropped the shift, wet from my tears, from my hand and let it fall into the fire.

anonymous asked:

Lord!!!' I am so in love with The Gateway!!! Thank you for this AU. It is so magnificent. I cannot wait for the next installment. Thank you. This blog is my jam. You all rock!

anonymous asked:

I am eagerly waiting for The Getaway! I love it!

anonymous asked:

Loved the latest Getaway. Those crazy kids.

diversemediums asked:

Could we get another installment of The Getaway please?

anonymous asked:

Any plans to continue The Getaway?

Wrapping her large scarf around her neck, Claire waited in the draughty bus station walking from end to end as she tried to decipher the local routes. Hungry and cold, it’d been just over two days of heavy travelling and the extended journey was beginning to take its toll on poor Claire.

Keep reading

A Wild Night in Vegas -- Part 11

This chapter happened a lot faster than @outlandishchridhe and I anticipated. It’s a lot of fun! We’re loving where this story is going!

Catch up on the previous chapter HERE or find the whole story HERE

Fraser Bairn Watch: Month 5

Exhausted, Claire opened the apartment door and took a deep breath. Amongst the aromas of food cooking, she thought she smelled something fainter, sweeter. Eyes springing open, she locked her eyes on the vase and saw five fresh roses in it.

“Welcome home, Sassenach,” Jamie called from the kitchen.

Grinning, she walked in and kissed him.

“Thank you for the roses, Jamie. They’re lovely.”

“Five roses for five months gone. Only a few left for me to thank ye for carrying our bairn.”

Leaning on him this way, she was acutely aware of her rounding stomach as it pressed against Jamie’s.

“You’re welcome,” she said before pulling away from him.

They ate their dinner at the table and, for once, nothing made her sick. Before they went to bed, she did a little homework at her desk, though she couldn’t sit as close to it as she used to.

Tomorrow was to be their 20 week ultrasound and Claire had been waiting for this day for weeks. They’d finally be able to see the baby look, well, more like a baby.

“You know, we can find out tomorrow if this little one is a boy or a girl.”

“I dinna want to find out,” he said, turning a page in his book.

Her mouth fell open as she stared at him. It took a minute before he realized what she was doing.

“But I want to know the sex of the baby!”

“Weel, I dinna want to know. Don’t ye want to be surprised?”

“I think this baby was a surprise enough, Jamie. Don’t you want to get prepared?”

“Sassenach, people have been having bairns for centuries without knowing what they are and they seemed to do just fine getting ready.”

“Why can’t I just find out and you not? You can still be surprised then.”

Jamie fixed her with a flat look and closed his book with a sigh.

“Sassenach, have ye ever seen yerself try to keep a secret? I love ye, but yer face canna keep a secret from me. If you find out, ye won’t be able to keep it from showing all over your face.” He reached out and stroked her cheek and she leaned into him instinctively.

The pleading look on his face made Claire’s resolve waiver. She really did want to know, but finding out together would mean much more than having to carry it around with her for the next few months by herself.

“Oh, alright you bloody Scot. We won’t find out until this little peanut decides to make its debut,” she huffed, placing her hand on her belly.

Jamie twined their fingers together, resting over her wee bump. She suppressed flinching away from it and when she finally looked up at him, she saw that heartbreaking smile spread across his face as his hand moved theirs back and forth over her stomach.

“I love ye, mo nighean donn. I ken it makes ye a little disappointed,” he started, but was halted by her rising up on tiptoe to give him a peck on the lips that, as always, turned into something a little deeper.

“Compromise, right?” she whispered. “You and I have done a lot of it so far. It won’t kill me and at least I’ll know that you’re suffering right along with me.” She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that Jamie loved. He lived for that laugh, the smile making her whole face crinkle in happiness.

He rested his head against hers for a moment, basking in the warmth of her smile. Leaning in, he kissed her softly, letting his hands wander over her. After he squeezed her arse, he began to pull her closer. But she pulled back and took a breath.

“Are ye alright, mo chridhe?”

“Yes, I’m… I’m alright. I’m a little tired though, could we maybe just snuggle a bit tonight?”

Watching her face for a moment, he thought he understood why she was hesitating. Her stomach was getting larger by the day and it made her uncomfortable.

“Ye dinna have to get naked, Sassenach. Leave yer shirt on, it doesna matter to me.”

She gave him a weak smile before pulling out of his arms.

“That’s alright. Perhaps another time.”

Leaning over the side of the couch, she gave his cheek a light peck and left to change for bed. When he joined her, he saw she wore the nightgown she’d been favoring lately. It covered her and gave her body little shape, which was likely what she wanted it to do.

As she lay on her side, the sheets tucked up around her, he gently eased in behind her, careful to not fully cup the wee swell of her belly. Instead, he opted for reaching for her hand, entwining their fingers together..



“Ye ken I love ye, right?”

“Of course I do.”

He nodded, taking a moment before continuing.

“And ye ken I think yer beautiful, right?”

“I… yes, I do.”

“And that I dinna think yer fat or ugly? That seeing ye carry my child is the most amazing blessing ye could ever give me?”

She paused before answering, and gently brought their hands down to rest near her stomach.

“Yes, Jamie. I do. I’m sorry, I really am just tired tonight.”

“Aye, it’s fine, mo nighean donn. I just want ye to ken that I love ye verra much.”

She turned around, searching for a kiss.

“I love you, too, Jamie. So much.”


Sitting in the waiting room with so many pregnant women felt strange, but Claire was comfortable. He held her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of hers constantly. A door opened and the nurse called them back. He was excited for this, to see their child again. The last time it hadn’t looked like much more than a fuzzy blur on the screen. Claire had assured him it would look more like an actual human being now. His little human being.

Claire sat on the exam table fidgeting nervously. Jamie put a hand on her knee to keep her leg from bouncing.

“Alright Miss Beauchamp, how are we feeling today?” the nurse asked.

“Very well, thank you.”

They launched into the barrage of questions he couldn’t answer, so he just waited. As the ultrasound machine booted up, the nurse smiled at them.

“So are we going to learn the sex of your baby today?”

Claire shot him a dark glare before turning back to the kind woman.

“No. We’d like it to be a surprise, apparently.”

The nurse laughed at the scorned look on Claire’s face and patted her hand.

“Alright then, I won’t tell you,” she continued to chuckle and looked at Jamie as if to wish him luck with the decision they made.

Then she stage whispered to Claire, “The doctor will know, you know, just in case you decide to change your mind.”

Claire finally broke a real smile and sighed, looking back at Jamie again.

“No, no. I’ll wait,” she said, grinning at Jamie.

Hearing the heartbeat of their child never ceased to enchant them. Each little lub-dub brought tears to both their eyes. Blinking them back, Jamie tried to clear his vision. He wanted to see their wee bairn completely, wanted to commit this moment to his memory forever, and he didn’t want the memory to be blurry.

“Here’s your baby!” the nurse exclaimed, pointing out the head, feet and bottom of their baby.

“He looks like a wee person now,” Jamie said softly, staring in awe at the black and white screen. “I can actually see which end is his head now.”

Claire swatted at him playfully and giggled at his awestruck face.

“Well it’s a good thing that you didn’t want to know the sex of your baby, Miss Beauchamp, because this little one isn’t showing me anything! Turned away and legs crossed. This one is going to be a stubborn one for sure,” he joked as Claire chuckled.

“Well between her father and I, I’m not really surprised by that assessment.”

“He’s protectin’ his virtue is all. I wouldna want my baws splayed all over a screen for anyone to look at either,” Jamie said, seriousness coloring his tone but smiling nonetheless.

“Would you both like a printout to take with you?” the nurse asked, cleaning the gel off of Claire’s belly. As soon as it was clean, Jamie noticed she pulled the shirt she had on down as fast as she could.

“Can we have a couple please? Maybe 3?” Claire turned to look at him. “I thought maybe we could frame one and I know you like to keep one at work.”

“Aye, mo chridhe, whatever you wish.”

She grinned and reached for him, pulling him down to kiss her soundly.


“Jamie?” Claire asked, softly.

He turned his head away from the ultrasound picture to her, the sound of her voice alarming him.

“What is it, Sassenach? Are ye feelin’ alright? Ye look… concerned.”

She took a deep breath and met his gaze.

“I think we need to talk about something.”

He raised his eyebrow at her and she continued, trying to keep eye contact with him.

“I was wondering… well… at the ultrasound today, the nurse called me ‘Miss Beauchamp’ and it got me thinking. I was wondering if… if you wanted to stay married. To me.” She kept her eyes on his, and saw his face mask over. The last time they had talked about this, she had brushed him off. She didn’t want to do that now..

“We haven’t really talked about it and…” she trailed off, unable to finish her thought, too scared of what might come from this to be the one to go first.

He held her gaze, but didn’t answer. Several tense moments passed between them, but his lips stayed sealed shut. He simply looked at her and she knew that she would have to be the one to break the silence. She reached into her bag and pulled something small out of it.

“Because,” she started hoarsely. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Because I… I want to stay married to you.”

She opened her palm and in it was a titanium band. She was staring hard at the band in her hands, not risking looking up at Jamie. A finger under her chin lifted her face to his; he was much closer than before. His face had a broad smile across it right before he leaned in and took her lips against his.

“Wait right here, mo graidh,” he whispered against her lips.

He got up and made a beeline for their bedroom and returned almost as quickly as he left, a small box in his hand. When he opened it, Claire gasped.

“I bought this for ye, before we left for Colorado. I thought,” he paused, voice breaking just slightly. “I thought ye might make a choice then, but then, weel…then ye didna. But I kept it anyway, if only for the chance that I might be able to woo ye properly if we decided to go another way.”

He took the small ring out, a solid band with thistle and interlace overlay on top of the solid metal.

“Oh, Jamie,” she sighed. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Will ye wear it?”

“Will you wear yours?”

He smiled at the glint in her eyes, the need to mark him showing strong on her face.

“Aye, I’ll wear it and gladly. I’m completely under yer power and happy to be there, Claire.”

“I am too,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t change it. I don’t want to change it.”

“Well that’s good to hear, Sassenach. Perhaps, as we dinna really remember our own vows, we could do a wee thing now?”

Taking her left hand in his own, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly. He took a deep breath and prepared to slide the ring onto her finger. The light caught the inside and glinted, hinting that something was inside it.

“Wait, what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Inside the ring. Is it engraved?”

Her eyes darted up to his and his ears turned a little pink.

“Oh, ah… Aye. It’s Gaelic, ken?”

Turning the ring slowly, she tried to read the foreign language.

“What does it say?”

“Mo graidh, mo chridhe fuil.”

“And what does that mean? For those of us who don’t speak Gaelic?”

“It means ‘my love, my heart’s blood’.”

The smile on her face grew as she stared at it for a long moment.

“I, um… I had something put into yours too…”

Taking the larger ring from her hand, he turned it to the light.

“My knight,” he said softly. “The keeper of my heart. Claire, that’s beautiful.”

“So,” she cleared her throat before she broke out into tears again. “Did you have something in mind for our sober vows?”

“Aye, it’s an old Scottish tradition, if ye dinna mind it.”

“I don’t mind.”

He stared down at her hand for a moment before sliding the ring onto it slowly. She did the same with his, pleased that the ring fit him well.

“You’ll have to repeat the words after me. They’re in Gaelic.”


Claire stumbled over the foreign words, her lips and tongue making the unfamiliar sounds. But he could see in her face just how hard she was concentrating to say them correctly. Or, as correctly as she could.

When she finished repeating him, he leaned in to kiss her gently.

“So,” she asked, searching his face. “What exactly did I just commit to? What did I say?”

“It rhymes a bit, in English. But what we said was ‘ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done.”

“I think I like that better than regular vows.”

His eyes moved down to her rounding belly, but he made no move to touch it. She could see the longing in his eyes, but he didn’t reach out toward her. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead before standing up and holding out a hand to her. On some level, she wanted to grab his hand and put it on her belly. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Once again, Jamie proved to her that he wasn’t like any other man. As much as he wanted to feel their child, to touch her and hold her, he would never force that on her. He recognized and understood that she was uncomfortable with the changes in her body. She also understood that he wasn’t asking her to talk about it either; just let her feel what she was feeling.


She was dressed in the nightgown again, but he said nothing about it. He had no right to, it wasn’t his body that was changing. All he could do was give her the space she needed and support her however he could.

When she snuggled close to him, he did all he could to keep from touching her belly. It took her some time to fall asleep, constantly moving around to find a comfortable position.

They lay in bed, Claire sleeping soundly in his arms. He looked down at her stomach, bulging a little through the night dress. If he touched the bairn now, she wouldn’t know, wouldn’t shy away from him. But it wouldn’t be fair to her. Perhaps she didn’t want his touch right now, what right did he have to force that on her unconscious body?

Then she did something that surprised him. Still completely asleep, she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. He froze in place, afraid she’d wake and find him touching her and be angry. Carefully, he tried to slip his hand away from her, but her grip tightened. She mumbled incoherently, sleepily patting his hand on her stomach and snuggling closer, a look of complete contentment covering her face. The stern lines that had been carved in her brow as she tried to get comfortable and fell asleep melted away as she nuzzled against him even closer.

He looked down at her, careful not to jar her and moved slowly to kiss the top of her head. She mumbled again, her grip on his hand slacking, but he didn’t move it. He couldn’t. He was so happy to feel her and the bairn, feel close to them both like this, that he would steal the moments that she gave him.


Claire woke suddenly, feeling a ravenous hunger surge through her. These damned cravings would kill her one of these days.

“Jamie,” she said softly, nudging him awake. “Jamie?”

His eyes opened slowly.

“…’s the bairn…”

“We’re both fine, but…”

One eye snapped fully open.

“Do ye need hot wings again?”

She shook her head, a guilty look crossing her face.

“No, I just… Doesn’t chili sound really good?”

“Canna say it does just at the moment.”

Biting her bottom lip, she looked up at him.

“I could kill for some chili right now…”

With a sigh, he started pushing himself up.

“Alright. I’ll go and see if someone’s open and selling chili.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Ye dinna have to do that, Sassenach. I’m pleased to fetch ye chili if ye wish.”

Swinging her legs out of bed, she fumbled in the dark for something to put on her feet and a sweater.

“No, I’d like to come. I feel terrible, sending you out at odd hours like my personal servant.”

“Are ye sure?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “And this way I won’t be eating it in our bed. Won’t be finding bits of nachos in our sheets for the next week.”

“Ye make a verra fine point, Sassenach. Let’s go, then.”

Luckily, the chili wasn’t as difficult to find as the hot wings had been. They had her small bowl of chili within fifteen minutes.

“You know what else sounds good?” she asked as Jamie pulled out of the parking lot.

“Ye mean besides sleep?”

“Ice cream.”

“I didna ken pregnancy would give a woman such strange tastes.”

“Do you think we can find someone who does ice cream all night?”

“The place we just left does.”

Licking the spoon, she looked over to him sheepishly.

“I’ll split it with you.”

“No, no. I’ll no’ take any of it. I canna really eat at three in the morning.”

Making a U-turn, he pulled back into the drive through and ordered one chocolate frosty for his pregnant wife. The young man at the window gave them an odd look, which Jamie ignored.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as they headed home.

“I put ye in this position, gettin’ ye wi’ child and all. The least I can do is feed whatever bizarre cravings our bairn has.”

She grinned as she finished her strange combination of chili and ice cream.


The following afternoon, Jamie was sitting on the couch doing a little reading while Claire worked on some things for her classes. Just as he stretched, he glanced over to her and saw her flinch hard. She stared down at her belly in complete shock, her hand almost went to touch it, but stopped. He looked away from her before she could see him watching. Wondering what had caught her so off guard, he forced his attention back to his book, but continued to glance at her under hooded eyelids.

That night, they lay curled up together as they usually did. Once she settled and fell into deep sleep, she moved his hand onto her stomach. It was the only time she was comfortable having him touch her and he cherished the feeling. As he began relaxing into sleep, he thought he felt something. A faint flutter against his hand made his eyes snap open. Surely it was too soon to feel the bairn move.

With bated breath, he waited to see if it would happen again. When it didn’t, he was sure he’d imagined the feeling. He felt Claire softly push his hand against her, burrowing farther into his neck and pulling him with her down into their dreams.


Claire woke up in the morning snuggled warmly into Jamie’s side. She didn’t want to disturb him, she’d done enough of that the night before. Slowly, her eyes drank in her sleeping husband’s face.

Husband, he was her husband.

He had been since that first night together, of course, but now that they’d made the decision to stay together and married to boot, that word felt so important. She glanced down at his hand and saw the ring that marked him as hers. She smiled, but inside her emotions ran rampant with worry about what could be.

No. No, she wouldn’t let her thoughts travel down that road. Jamie was a good man, a man who loved her, a man who did everything in his power so she was happy and well cared for. A man who she wanted to be hers for always.

A need rose up in her so quickly and so strongly she couldn’t completely stifle the sound of distress that came out of her throat. Jamie stirred and she froze, still wanting to watch him sleep. He readjusted and pulled her closer, hand drifting towards her abdomen.

Suddenly, she felt it. A soft push from the inside of her belly. It had startled her the day before, the feeling foreign and somewhat frightening. Truly there was a child in there. Of course she’d seen their little one on the ultrasound screen, but it was another to feel her. To know she was in there and moving around. It was a different kind of knowing. And it amazed her.

She willed the wee one to do it again, to prove that it wasn’t just a gas bubble. She was concentrating so hard that she didn’t realize Jamie’s hand was on her stomach, cupping the small swell lovingly. He hadn’t woken, but a pure smile crept over his face; the same smile that came over him when she brushed his hair back while he slept. It simultaneous melted and broke her heart.

She knew she was being unfair to him, not letting him touch her, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the changes her body was going through. She had to make the effort, she thought to herself. She had to do this for him, as he did all these things for her.

At that thought, another idea sprung to her mind. Another way to show Jamie that she truly understood and was thankful for everything he did for her. As if in agreement with her thoughts, the little peanut gave another soft kick to her abdomen. She smiled and snuggled back into him, letting herself drift back to sleep for a little while longer.

Can we talk about the script of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.2 tho?

Cause that was just delightful. :D



“Of course I have issues…THAT’S MY FATHER!!!”


Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 5

There was a short line of people standing outside Duke’s, waiting for their turn to go in. Claire, arms crossed, went up to the security guard holding a clipboard.

“Are you on the list?” he barked.

“Um, Claire Beauchamp?” 

“Oh.” His gruff demeanor changed instantly. “Says ‘ere you’re VIP.” He pulled a lanyard with blue tags dangling that read DUKE’S. “Go on in. Ask for Duncan at the bar.”

“Thanks.” Claire slipped the pass over her head and walked into the pulsing, smoky darkness.

Everyone inside looked like they’d stepped out of Rolling Stone or something, Claire thought. She was glad for once she’d listened to Geillis’s advice and dressed up a little for the occasion; she was wearing makeup on her normally pale face and wild curls, a short blue dress with heels – and the black biker jacket Mary her co-worker had lent her to match a certain red-haired singer.

She walked up to the bar. The only bartender on duty could only be Duncan. As she approached, he noticed the VIP pass and immediately gave her a glass of champagne, directing her backstage. “To the green room, love!” he shouted over the din.

Claire was still unsure about this. And this, exactly, was whatever she wanted it to be. Wasn’t that what he had said? For now, he was a friend. And friends could see other friends and support each other at events like this. As much as she – and Rupert – would have liked Geillis to be there, a seven hour drive from Edinburgh and a hectic work schedule was not feasible.

Down a darkened hallway hidden behind a black curtain by the bar, Claire reached a door marked for performers. Boisterous laughter could be heard on the other side, and Claire wondered which was Jamie’s. For courage, she downed the champagne all at once, bubbles fizzing in her mouth. Thinking perhaps they wouldn’t hear her knocking, she decided to turn the knob and walk in.

A group of faces turned to stare, but she only had eyes for one. Towering over most, Jamie’s gaze found hers and a blinding smile widened on his face. Pushing through the crowd sitting on chairs and sofas, he met her at the door.

“You’re here!” Jamie leaned in and pecked her on the cheek. Claire was enveloped in the warmth of his scent – spice, citrus, and honey all at once. Resisting the urge to wrap her arms around him, she merely smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

“How are you, Jamie? Nervous?”

“A wee bit.” He grinned. “The day I dinna get the cramp in my wame, I’ll ken ‘tis time to retire.” 

“Makes sense,” Claire laughed.

“Here, let me introduce ye.” Jamie took her hand (with only a minor jolt) and pushed past the throng. Composed of band members and a few random girls, the rest were close friends of Hugh Munro’s, who enjoyed the perks of knowing the owner. 

Claire was greeted cheerfully by Willie, Ian, and Rupert, who pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. She solemnly promised him to bring Geillis next time, regardless of work schedules. All the while introductions were made, Jamie did not let go of her hand. And neither did she.

Lastly, they approached a taciturn man who stood off by himself behind the chairs. He nursed a beer, and only raised an eyebrow as Jamie advanced closer, Claire in tow.  

“Claire, this is Murtagh, my uncle and our manager. Murtagh, this is Claire, whom I told ye all about.” A faint pink tinged his ears and the back of his neck. Again, he rifled his hand through the red tresses, embarrassed.

She stuck out her hand and was surprised by the firm grip, which held hers for a second longer than normal before he took a swig of beer.

“Mmphm. Ye’ll be the Sassenach lassie then. Yon lad hasnae shut up about ye since Edinburgh.” A thick Scots accent permeated his words, mumbled barely audibly. Claire strained to catch the tone of them, but they lacked any sort of discernible emotion.

Sassenach?” Claire peeked at Jamie, who turned even redder.

“It only means English, to a Scot. Uncle?” Jamie nudged Murtagh, who shook his head.

“Aye, no offense, lass. ‘Tis only he’s never dated an Englishwoman before. French fer sure, mebbe a Lowlander here and there.” He winked at Jamie, who covered his face in despair.

“Really? Well now, that’s interesting. Tell me more.” Claire winked back at Murtagh, who seemed on the verge of smiling.

“Nay. That’s enough. Thank ye, Uncle.” Jamie steered Claire away with a broad hand on her shoulder. She turned back to Murtagh one last time. 

“A pleasure, Murtagh!” The man raised his beer briefly in acknowledgement. She could clearly see that he was protective of his nephew, and liked him for it. 

At the back of the room stood a long table, crammed with platters of finger food. Squeezed in were bottles and bottles of whiskey. Claire could glimpse Laphroaig, Glenfiddich, Macallan, Glenlivet, and the odd bottle of Chivas and Johnnie Walker. Jamie insisted on exchanging her empty champagne glass with the whiskey , which she took neat.

Sláinte!” Jamie clinked her glass, and poured the liquor straight down his throat. Claire followed suit, grimacing a bit at the peaty taste and shivering as the heat of the whiskey lit her insides.

They stood side by side, watching the men interact with a group of girls. They didn’t look older than 25, some of them, Claire noted wryly. A few cast furtive glances at the corner where Jamie and Claire were standing, smiling when they looked at him, frowning openly at her. Claire tried not to care; she reminded herself that Jamie was after all famous, and it was only natural that they wanted to capture his attention. Finally, a girl gathered her courage enough to walk over and introduce herself to Jamie.

Hiiiii,” the girl tittered, flipping her long blonde hair and briefly touching Jamie’s arm. “I’m Malva. How are you?” She smirked, and slid sideways casually to block Claire completely from sight.

“Hello, Malva. Nice to meet ye. Who are ye with tonight?” Jamie offered a polite smile, used to fan encounters.

“Oh, I’m here with friends. Can’t wait for your set tonight. Which is your favorite song?” Malva sidled closer, and Claire was forced to take a step back, nearly knocking over some whiskey bottles.

“Och, weel, I like them all, I guess. Bad if I didn’t, eh?” Jamie reached out a hand behind Malva, and pulled Claire gently into his side. “This is a friend of mine, Claire Beauchamp.”

“Hello.” Claire felt the words stick in her throat. The back of her neck felt alternately cold and hot and prickly.

“Hey.” Malva’s stare was anything but friendly. If looks could kill, Claire thought briefly. She felt the momentary urge to nuzzle into Jamie’s neck, maybe plant a kiss or two there, marking him as hers.

Oh wait. Am I… jealous of her?

Claire dismissed the idea and tried to smile at the girl. She was only a fan, after all. Malva did not return her gesture and just flipped her hair again, hoping for Jamie’s attention.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around. Good luck with the show.” Malva let the tip of her tongue trail over her lips suggestively. Claire fought the impulse to scratch her eyes out and let her instincts take over, wrapping her arm around Jamie. Surprised, he glanced down at her, and smiled briefly at Claire.

“Thank ye. Hope ye enjoy it.”

Malva sauntered off, moving her hips in a really obvious way that made her look mostly ridiculous. Angus seemed willing to deal with her, and Claire breathed easier for the first time in minutes. 

Well. Was it always like this? she wondered.

“It isnae always like this, ye ken,” Jamie said.

Claire, startled, cursed her glass face again. “Like this what?”

“The fans. Some are pushier, or even grabbier, than others. Mainly they are respectful, they only want an autograph or picture. A bit of a chat. A hug sometimes. But that’s it.”

“Jamie, you don’t have to explain to me. I’m not—”

“Och, yer face looked like bloody murder fer a second there. I promise, I’d never dally with a fan like that. ‘Twouldna be right.”

“What about me?” Claire asked with a smile. 

“Ah, weel, ye said so yerself. Ye didna ken who we were to start with.”


The concert was phenomenal. Close to two hundred people crowded near the stage, clapping, and singing along. The surprise performance had gone over spectacularly, the patrons raising the roof when The Clan was announced.

Murtagh had led her to stage left, where Claire had stood mesmerized by the show, and by Jamie in particular. He was great at what he did, playing off the audience and  gauging their mood and seeming to know just when to kick it up a notch. The band had them all riled up since the beginning, playing upbeat songs that had everyone, Claire included, dancing in their spots.

Finally, as the hour grew late, the songs grew mellower. Claire swayed on her feet, head keeping time with the rhythm. Every once in a while, Jamie would turn to look at her and smile. Finally, close to one in the morning, Jamie pulled up a stool and took up his acoustic guitar. The crowd quieted down a bit to listen.

“Now fer a new song, written verra recently. This one goes out to the girl with whiskey eyes.”

Despite the screaming of a few girls who no doubt thought the song was for them, Claire felt her heart quicken and her palms tingle. He had once told her she was “bonny, with eyes like whiskey.” Was this song meant for her?

Jamie strummed his guitar, caressing the mike in a way that was only his.

I know you’re hurting

You know better than anyone

It’s hard to let your heart trust

But this is real


I’m here for you

Good times and bad

This isn’t an ending

Only the beginning of something


I promise I will wait

As long as it takes

Because your heart is worth it


Feelings unknown

But let these words and actions show

To help you see, give me a chance

And so—

I promise I will wait

As long as it takes

Because your heart is worth it

Claire’s cheeks flushed; she held her hands up to her face, trying to contain the heat. She looked around, but she was alone in the dark, staring out at the blue-lit stage where Jamie was calling out to her. Time ceased to matter; what she thought she ought to do or feel was irrelevant. It seemed like everyone would read it on her damned glass face.

As Claire realized herself in that moment, in the space of a ¾ tempo, her heart had decided of its own volition to tumble over the abyss and into those feelings unknown.

anonymous asked:

Could you do an story where Claire and Jamie return to Castle Leoch before going to the colonies. Bonus points for one where Jamie never married Laogherie :) (up to you!!)

The horses followed the craggy path with ease. The jolting motion, however, was causing my stomach to churn unpleasantly. In front of me Bree had her chubby hands wrapped in the horse’s mane, her giggles and squeals growing louder with each lurching jolt. Breathing deeply through my nose, I tried to quell the sick feeling of nausea with no luck. The wet earth smelled of manure and amphibians which only increased my unease.

“Jamie?” I called out weakly. He didn’t stop or turn around. “Jamie?” I called again, this time I believe, louder than before, still he didn’t turn.

“DA!” Bree screamed, our horse’s ears twitched out and snorted at the shrillness, but it caught his attention. Jamie turned around, face flush from the cold and obvious laughter.

“Aye, mo nighean ruaidh? Ye need me?”

Bree shook her head, red curls bouncing all over. “Mama needs ye.”

Looking from Bree to myself, I could see the confusion and understanding dawn on his face. “Ye alright, Sassenach? Yer face is a twinge green.”

I shook my head ready to answer only to quickly clap my hand across my mouth. Without thought, I had stopped my horse and flung myself off of her, racing to the bramble throwing up. My hands shook, and my face broke out into a cold sweat as I tried to steady myself.

“Claire!” Jamie was behind me, gripping my elbow to spin me around. His eyes filled with concern as both of our daughters watched from horseback, a crease between their eyebrows.

“Mama sick?” Bree asked at the same time Faith yelled, “Mama you can’t be sick!”

“I’m not sick,” I said barely above a whisper, my voice cracking and hoarse. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, it was never this bad with either of them!”

“The ween givin’ ye trouble, mo ghradh? Do ye think ye could make it to Inverness or shall we stop at Leoch?”

“No. No!” I tried with more force. “I don’t want to stop early. We have a ship to catch, I can’t risk you getting taken away. I will not risk losing our family when we are so close to freedom!”

Jamie tucked my head under his chin, and I could feel his laugh rumble through my own chest. “I’ll no be taken from ye, mo ghradh. Never again.” I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “Wee Hamish is in charge at Leoch now since Colum and Dougal have both passed. He’ll give us some sanctuary for the time needed. He is still family and he’ll protect us.”

I shook my head against his chest, breathing in deeply his unique smell, finally feeling calm. “No.”

“If ye canna handle the horse through a mountain trail, how are ye going to fare on a ship to the Colonies across a rough sea?”

I felt myself go pale at the thought of rough waters. “God what I wouldn’t give for an aeroplane right now!”

“Aye, yer magical contraptions that could get us across the water in less time would be most welcome. I’m no so fond of the prospect of going across the water, and it’d be best if at least one of us were conscience to watch after the girls. Fergus isna here to look after them this time.”

“I know, but I do not wish to delay! He’s over there, alone, waiting on us! Who is to say he even found your aunt and that she believed him as to who he is! He’s our son, Jamie, I need to get to him. It’s been four months as it is, another week of travel by horseback and a two months at sea, I can’t wait any longer.” My voice breaking now from the tears threatening to overtake me.

“Shhh, Sassenach. We’ll get back to him, he’s no alone. He has Murtagh with him, who would protect him with his life. Fergus would rather ye make sure yerself and this bairn are safe rather than come after him in a single minded fury. We’ll stop at Leoch and rest then be on our way, aye? We’re no but an hour or so’s ride from the castle.”

Sighing in defeat I murmured into his chest, “Fine. But I don’t want coddled! I’m not even showing for Christ’s sake.”

Jamie laughed and sat me behind Bree once again, “No, yer not, but yer still carrying something precious and I dinna want either of ye harmed.”

The two hour ride turned into four, pausing for my frequent need to expel the contents of my stomach every few minutes. Bree had grown restless, switched places with her sister and promptly fell asleep against Jamie’s chest.

“Mama?” Faith asked, looking more timid than I had ever seen her before. I kissed the top of her head and squeezed her closer to me.

“Yes my love?”

“You’re not going to get sick like ye were with….me are you?” Tears filled her blue eyes as she hastily looked down.


“Fergus told me ye nearly died and me as well had it not been for Mother Hildegard and… and I don’t want to lose you or my new brother. I can’t lose you!” Her small shoulders began to shake as she spoke, her words dropping off with each sniffle.

“No baby, no. You won’t lose me or this baby. It’s completely normal for me to be sick right now, there’s no reason I shouldn’t be.”

“You weren’t with Bree!” She countered.

“No, and I wasn’t this bad with you either, but each baby is different. So my body will react differently for each child. Don’t you worry about that. What I need for you to do is be happy and love this child as much as you can. You’ll be almost eleven by the time this baby makes his or her appearance, and I know it’ll be challenging for you. So just love them and be patient. A baby is a big responsibility.”

“I will Mama, I promise.” She turned and buried her face in my chest, her sniffles dying down the longer I held her close.

“Look up sweetheart.” I whispered into her ear, brushing the brown curls away from her face. “Take a look at Castle Leoch.”

So a couple of people have over the years asked me, “Hey, how did you make that neat Cry mask?” And to make things easier for me and everyone else, I made this tutorial. :D

So these are all the things ya need
-Things for papier maché (there are a lot of different ways, so just go with whatever works for you.)
-A knife
-Some random brushes
-A pen
-Some stretch band or just something that you can use so the mask stays on yer face

As stated before, there are different ways to make papier maché. You can buy it in powder form (like the bag in the picture), or you can make your own. I use wallpaper paste, but whatever works. :3

Rip (or cut) up the newspaper, blow up the balloon and then start applying layers. Make the base a little bigger than your face and don´t make it too thick or too thin. If it´s too thick, it´s gonna be hard to cut through later and you´ll be having trouble breathing in it. If it´s too thin, it´ll break. So try to hold a good balance.

The mask will take quite a while to dry (for me at least). But after that, put the mask on, mark where your eyes are and then cut out some circles with your knife. Take it easy so you don´t hurt yourself, I`ve done that way too many times. “>w>

Cut the edges and sandpaper the mask. This is a pretty important step, cause otherwise the mask will be wrinkly and that´ll look a little weird. (For reference, look at the top picture of this post. My old Cry mask and the MonoCry mask weren´t sandpapered.)

Time to paint. Put on some layers of white, then fix the eyes and the mouth. Then put some varnish on the mask. It´ll help a little against water and the paint will hold better. You can hotglue some fabric in the eye sockets, but that´s optional. Just make sure you´re able to see through them. I glued an antenna on as well, but again, optional. I do recommend putting something soft where the nose is, cause otherwise your nose will be squished. And that sucks. Last thing will be putting on your stretch band.

DONE! You now have your own Cry mask. This works for other kinds of masks as well, so go crazy. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Hope this was helpful and if you have any questions, just ask. I´d be happy to help. 

And if you use this tutorial, please post the result and tag me. Cause I wanna seee~

Take it easy and have it good, peoples. ♪(┌・。・)┌ 

Alla Prima- Chapter 6

Prologue   Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

C: I know how to make it up to you.

Jamie’s heart fluttered in time with the vibrations of his phone. When Claire told him that she would talk to him later, ‘later’ ended up being a mere 4 hours. The longest 4 hours, Jamie thought.

He glanced around the small office, making sure his brother wasn’t looking, before replying.

J: You know you don’t have to, right? It really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Her reply was almost immediate. She must be on lunch.

C: Hush. It’ll make me feel better. Anyway, I’m taking you to dinner on Friday.

His heart drummed out an uneven rhythm. Dinner? On a Friday? Wasn’t that kind of like…

A date?

Before he could make a fool of himself by asking that question, she added:

C: And there’s no room for argument. :)

Well, he didn’t really feel like arguing with that.

J: Alright, Sassenach. You may take me to dinner.

C: We’ll sort out the details later. Got students coming in!

“Who’s Claire?” Jamie jumped. He wasn’t aware of his brother peeking behind him.

“Jesus, Willie!”

“Sort out the details for what?”

“What are ye doing over here?”

“Weel, I saw ye looking at her phone with the stupidest grin in yer face. So, I came to investigate. Do ye have a date?” Willie nudged his shoulder, eyebrows waggling.

“Shut it. No. She’s…she’s just a kind woman…”

“That’s taking ye on a date?”

“No! I…” Jamie sighed. “I dinna ken.”

“I can ask Jenny,” Willie suggested, only halfway joking. Being the mathematical genius he was, his way with women was stereotypically awful. How he managed to convince a woman to marry him was mind boggling.

“Ye’ll do no such thing. Ye ken how she is.” Jamie cleared his throat, and pitched his voice upward in imitation of his sister. “‘Oh, Jamie, when can we meet her? Is she good to ye? Tell me all about her. We should have her over for dinner on Sundays.’”

“Ye better not let her hear you mocking her so. But, I get yer point. I’ll no tell her. But…” Willie paused, mouth twitching, wanting to ask. Jamie cocked his eyebrows and nodded. “Weel, can ye tell me something about her?”

“Her name is Claire, we met at the park. She’s a professor. She pretty and funny, but I dinna ken much else about her.” Willie’s eyes softened, their stormy color calming.

“Sometimes, ye dinna need to know anything else.”


“Okay, time’s almost up. Don’t pack up yet, I’m not finished! Remember, make sure to study a little everyday. I was disappointed in many of the last test scores. Just, a tiny review every night. It’ll help you in the long run. Now, get out of here! See you on Wednesday!” Claire grinned at her students as they filed out of the lecture hall. As the last one disappeared, she sighed in relief. Last class of the day. Thank God. Freshman were exhausting: old enough to know better, not old enough to care, as they say.

She glanced over at the phone on her desk. No reply. Of course, she didn’t really expect him to. She told him she had a class. It was still disappointing.

Should she text him? Let him know that she was done for the day? Or, was that too forward?

God, she wasn’t very good at this.

Speaking of the devil–or thinking, as it were–her phone lit up with his name.

J: Busy day?

She smiled, then. A full, stupid, toothy smile. Thank god she was alone.

C: Always. And you?

She waited impatiently for his reply.

J: Nah. I let my brother Willie do all the work today ;)

C: At least you’re honest :P Will I see you at the park this evening?

The reply was almost instantaneous.

J: Of course.

C: Great! We can get our plans together for Friday.

J: :/

C: Remember, no arguing!

J: I’m not! Did you see me argue? I just made a face!

C: Whatever! See you in a little bit. And get some work done!

J: No!

She giggled, enjoying their flirtations. He seemed less inhibited behind a screen, and she felt less shy. Would their banter continue when they spoke in person again?

She hoped so.

“What are you laughing at?” Claire turned to find Mary in the doorway, blue eyes wide and curious. Mary worked at the primary school across the street from campus, so she liked to visit Claire when she could.

“Mary, you’re early! How did you make it so fast?”

“I power walked. Who are you talking to?” She motioned to the phone in Claire’s hand.

“Oh, um. A friend.”

“A man friend?” Mary quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes. A male friend.”

“An attractive man friend?” Her eyebrow wiggled up and down.

Claire groaned. “Yes, he is. Very attractive.”

Mary pulled a chair up to the desk, and plopped in it, getting comfortable. She rested her head on her fists and looked at Claire expectantly. “Do tell.”

“Well…” How should she begin? “We… met in the park.” I stalked him in the park. “We exchanged numbers. I accidentally called him in the middle of the night instead of Lamb. So, I told him I’d make it up to him. WithDinnerOnFriday.” Mary gaped, surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

“Like a date?”

“I didn’t say ‘date.’ Do you think he thinks it’s a date?”

“Do you want it to be?” Did she want it to be? Jamie was handsome, no question. And, from what she could tell, was sweet with a good sense of humor. But, he wasn’t the kind of man she usually went for.

“I don’t know. He’s not…my type, I guess?” Mary gave her a sympathetic look from under her lashes.

“Claire…Don’t take this the wrong way… But maybe you need a different ‘type.’ The men you’ve been with are…”

“Cheaters and scum?” Claire offered. She said this jokingly, but she knew the truth of it down deep in her taped up heart. Scenes flashed before her eyes: a boyfriend’s wild hair between a petite blonde’s legs, a break up text lighting her phone, her ex-fiance’s note: I’m sorry. I can’t. -F. No, her experience with men was…abysmally awful.

“I was going to say ‘not right for you.’ But your phrase is more accurate.” That was putting it nicely. Of course, Mary was always nicer than necessary. “How is he not your type, anyway?”

“He’s… he’s an artist. And, I tend to go toward sciencey, history, math guys. And, he’s just so… he’s passionate, you know? You can see it immediately in his eyes. They pour emotion. And, you know me. I’m not… I’m guarded, kind of.”

Mary contemplated. “He sounds romantic,” she admitted with a sigh. “If I didn’t have Alex…”

Claire slapped her lightly on the arm. “Mary! I’m telling!”

Mary giggled. “No, no! I’m only joking!” And then, more serious: “I think you should give Artist Guy a chance. How can you find love without any risk?”

“His name is Jamie. And I never said anything about love.”

“Maybe not now. But perhaps you will later. You deserve it.”


He was waiting for her when she arrived. When she saw him, her face broke into a smile that crinkled her eyes.

“Hey, Jamie!”

“Hey! How was yer day?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just another Monday. How was yours?”

“Oh, it was fine. So, about this dinner…”

“Oh, yes! Let’s walk and talk.” Without eating for a response, she began walking along the paved trail that circled the park. “So, I was thinking… does 7 o'clock sound okay to you?”

“Oh, um, aye. I get off work at 5, so yes.”

“Great! Now, since this is your dinner…” Jamie gave her a look at this, which she studiously ignored. “I figured you could pick where we go. What’s your favorite place?”

“Ohhh, I dinna ken. Can I tell ye later?”

“Sure, no problem.”

The walked in companionable silence, the sun slowly setting behind the trees.

“Claire…” She turned to him, her eyes sparkling in the low light. “I just… I was thinking… I dinna ken much about ye.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Ohhh, I dinna ken…”

She squinted at him, and nodded. “My name is Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. My favorite color is green. I’m a professor. I love strawberries, but hate strawberry ice cream.”

She held out her hand for a handshake, and he took it. “My name is James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. My favorite color is blue. I work with my brother Willie at Fraser Designs. I love strawberries and strawberry ice cream.

She grinned at that. “Well, James, I suppose we aren’t total strangers anymore.”

anonymous asked:

hey ship do u have any weird niche jokes?

An Englishman is being shown around a Scottish hospital.

At the end of his visit, he is shown into a ward with a number of patients who show no obvious signs of injury. He goes to examine the first man he sees, and the man proclaims:

Fair fa’ yer honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain e’ the puddin’ race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
painch tripe or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace
as lang’s my arm.

The Englishman, somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient, and immediately the patient launches into:

Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.

This continues with the next patient:

Wee sleekit cow'rin tim'rous beastie,
O what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
wi’ bickering brattle.
I wad be laith to run and chase thee,
wi’ murdering prattle!“

"Well,” the Englishman mutters to his Scottish colleague, “I see you saved the psychiatric ward for the last.”

“Nay, nay,” the Scottish doctor corrected him, “this is the Serious Burns unit.”