#makes me wish I was living in a cottage somewhere in Scotland

[grayyylake99]

Say what you want about HTTYD THW (not my favorite by any means) BUT MAN THE SCORE 😭

It’s so whimsical and magical that I instantly recognize as part of the third film. Each movie has its own distinct instruments while still maintaining its theme.

So many pieces in THW are absolutely beautiful and everytime I listen to the score I get dramatically sad knowing there won’t be anymore movies.

There’s maybe one or two pieces I didn’t care for (mainly the “battle scene”) but everything else is just beautiful.

I love you John Powell.

[15-dogs]

arrangements |n.l.|

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader

summary: you run into a rather handsome man who seems to share your interest in plants...although, he has odd taste

warnings: light swearing

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 1884

You were late. So late. You had an interview with prospective clients which you were supposed to be at 5 minutes ago. The couple was getting married and they wanted to see what flowers you had arranged for their centerpieces. So there you were, running down the busy streets of London, carrying vase upon vase of flowers.

Because you were in such a rush, you didn’t see the tall man step into your view, crashing straight into him and dropping a vase. Your jaw dropped at the sight of your arrangement all over the pavement before your eyes snapped up towards the clearly embarrassed man.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled.

“I told them I would bring four options. Not three, four!”

You tugged the bag of flowers closer to your chest, making sure they were all okay. The man in front of you cleared his throat to gain your attention. When you looked up, he pushed a strange but beautiful plant into your arms.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Your fourth option. If possible, could you return the vase to me?” The man patted down his tweed coat, finally pulling a card out and handing it to you. “There you go, that’s my number and address.”

“Neville?” you read. He nodded. “I can do that. Thank you so much, Neville.”

You began to dart off towards your destination when he called after you, “I didn’t catch your name!”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)! Pleasure!”

You arrived at the doorstep of a small cottage a few minutes later, panting from your run. You knocked on the door once but no one came. You tried it again and it happened once more. Then you became suspicious. You circled the house, seeing that all the lights were off. You pulled your phone out to check your calendar and, lo and behold, you screwed up the dates. The consultation was tomorrow.

Perfect.

You arrived on time to the consultation the next day and that time with all of your own arrangements. It went surprisingly well. The brides-to-be agreed to come to your shop in a month to collect the arrangements as their wedding was fast approaching.

You sat in the back room after you had closed and the sun began to set, ordering the materials you needed for the centerpieces when you came across Neville’s business card. Your eyes drifted up towards the odd plant he had left and you decided it would be best to give it back to him, seeing as how he wanted the vase regardless.

So that’s exactly why you stood outside of Neville’s apartment, knocking at the door with a little plant in hand.

“Just a minute!” Neville’s voice was muffled from inside the apartment but you could hear his footsteps fast approaching. For some reason, your heart began to beat a little faster in your chest.

Neville opened the door, faltering at the sight of you. You didn’t notice this in your hurry yesterday, but Neville was actually quite handsome. He had a strong jaw and lean body which was accentuated by his professional workwear. He wore a white button down and rolled up his sleeves, doing wonders to his toned arms.

“(Y/N)?” he questioned as if it weren’t painfully obvious.

“Yeah. Reckon this a bad time…”

“No, no! Not at all! Please, er, come in.” Neville stepped away from the door to let you by. Your stomach erupted into butterflies at his musky scent while you passed by.

“Your place is lovely.”

And it was. It was on the smaller side, but it was certainly well used. Everything had a place, that was evident. He had gorgeous plants decorating the room― the likes of which you had never seen before.

“Glad you think so. What brings you here?”

“Oh, right. I wanted to return your plant. I didn’t need it after all.” You chuckled nervously as you handed it over to Neville, hoping that he didn’t notice the way your eyes lingered on his body.

“I appreciate the efficiency,” he teased, evoking a smirk from you. “Would you like a drink? I was just about to settle down, actually.”

“I’m so sorry, did I interrupt you?”

“I’m alone,” he blurted out. You furrowed your brow at his implication. “I mean, um, there was nothing really to interrupt.”

“Ah, I see.” 

You weighed your options: have a drink with an incredibly handsome man or sit in your shop waiting to get a call back from some asshole named Steve who was your new distributor? That wasn’t too hard of a choice.

You and Neville spent the night chatting, telling each other about your lives. He told you all about his job as a professor at a boarding school in Scotland. He explained how he went there as a kid and dreamt of becoming a teacher there.

“So, professor,” you began, “what do you teach?”

Neville’s smooth facade dropped for a moment before he said, “Environmental science.”

“Impressive.”

“And you? I’m assuming you’re a florist?”

“Right you are, professor. When you ran into me yesterday I was actually going to a consultation for a wedding.”

Neville moved a little closer to you, his arm wrapping around the back of the couch. Your breath caught in your throat at the way he stared down at you.

“Is that so?”

“That is so.”

“You must be quite busy with weddings as it is the season for it, Mrs. (Y/L/N).”

Neville was incredibly close now. His arm had moved from the couch to your back, pulling you towards him and you didn’t mind at all. His eyes flickered down to your lips, drawing an inaudible squeak from you.

“It’s Miss, actually.”

“Perfect.”

Neville leaned in, placing gentle yet sloppy kisses against you. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he pulled you onto his lap. As he peppered kisses down your neck, you knew where you would end up that night. 

That was, until, your phone began to ring. Groaning, you pulled your cell out of your back pocket, Neville chuckling against you.

“Yes?...Steve, yes, hello...I can’t get it next weekend, Steve!...What form?...For Christ’s sake, Steve, email me the damn form! I can do it tonight!”

You angrily hung up on Steve the distributor and rolled off of Neville, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. A smirk tugged at his lips as you stood up, clearly finding the situation terribly humorous.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Neville. I have to fill out this paperwork and whatnot to get my flowers in time�� my damn distributor doesn’t know how to do his job.”

Neville shook his head with laughter while walking you to the door. “Don’t worry about it. Maybe we can finish this up another night, quite possibly over dinner?”

“That sounds lovely.” You popped up on your toes to press a kiss to Neville’s cheek. “Goodnight!”

“Night, love.”

Somewhere along the way, you and Neville became a couple. After a few dates, he had admitted that he needed a wedding date next month and that’s when you decided to make it official.

It was hard to find you two apart because both of you had fallen for each other― hard. Neville would write you letters when he was away and ship strange floral arrangements which you would put in your store because it reminded you of him.

You were tending to one of the plants Neville had sent when your two brides came in to pick up their flowers.

“Hello Lavender! Oh, and Parvati is here too! I’ll go get the flowers in just a moment.” You finished spritzing water onto the tall white flower and made your way to the back room.

“Brilliant,” Lavender said.

“Say, (Y/N)?” Parvati walked over to the plant you were just tending to as you stepped out from the back room, a sample vase in hand. “Where did you get this?”

“That?” You walked up to the plant, tilting your head. “My boyfriend gave it to me. He’s really sweet, adores plants quite a bit. Sometimes I think he might like them more than I do!”

“Lavender, come take a look at this. This is Moly, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?” you asked, joining the two women.

Lavender turned to face you, a wide grin on her face as she said, “You never told us you were a witch!”

“I’m sorry?” Your eyes were wide with horror.

“Oh, no need to pretend. We’re witches too! Although, I don’t quite remember seeing you at Hogwarts. Did you go to a different school? Beauxbatons, perhaps?”

You clenched your eyes shut and rubbed your temples; those girls had truly lost it. Parvati seemed to sense your confusion and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Your boyfriend,” she started, “what’s his name?”

“Neville. Neville Longbottom. Why does that matter?”

The brides shared a knowing glance that had your stomach sinking. Lavender nodded at Parvati and then both drew their wands. It took hours of explanation just to wrap your head around the fact that magic was real and that your boyfriend was one of them, delivering you magical plants from his Herbology greenhouse every now and then.

Once you had finally comprehended the situation, it was dark. Lavender and Parvati were long gone, having left you to your own devices to process. At some point you had carried yourself to Neville’s apartment, knocking on the door.

“Darling, what are you doing here?” he questioned as he opened the door.

“You’re a wizard,” you deadpanned.

“I…”

You pushed past him to enter his place, taking a seat on his couch. “I don’t mind, I just wish you would’ve told me.”

Neville blinked in shock. “You don’t mind?”

“No.”

“And it all makes sense?”

“Enough.”

“I couldn’t...I’m not allowed…” Neville floundered as he paced in front of you, finally kneeling to look you in the eyes. “How did you find out?”

“My clients, the ones I’m arranging the centerpieces for their weddings, they...recognized the plants you sent me. Moly, I believe it was?”

“Yeah, Moly. How did they recognize it? Were they magic?”

“Yes. They claimed to know you, too.” You shifted in your seat. “Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.”

Neville froze. Then he dipped his head with laughter. Your brows knit together as Neville joined you on the couch.

“What’s so funny?” Irritation seeped through your tone as much as you tried to hide it.

“We’re going to their wedding next week. Well, they just spared me from a terribly awkward conversation about the party guests’ peculiar habits.”

You huffed, crossing your arms at his explanation. Neville tugged you closer so that you snuggled into his side but you pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” The concern was evident in his voice.

“Nothing,” you lied.

“Darling, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth about studying Herbology?”

“That’s seriously what you’re upset about?” he chuckled, pulling you close. Neville placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and the tension feld from your body. “Fine, you know what? I’ll tell you all about my teachings― even show you a few of my findings― if you promise to stay the night.”

Was that even a question?

[boys-from-santacarla]

hi hi!! so i saw that people could send in an ask describing themselves to get a lost boy paired with them? but yeah heres a desc of me ig!

so i’m tall, and relatively large- i have dark purple/burgundy hair in a shaggy mullet with an undercut. i come up with crazy ideas and shit but i almost never go thru with them bc i get a n x i o u s- anyway i love rock and punk such as dead kennedys, mötley crue, def leppard, the ramones, ect and goth/alternative such as the cure, joy division, bauhaus, sisters of mercy, and souxie sxioux and the banshees (i have the brain capacity of a seagull so my apologies if i misspelt that). i love small tattoos, and stretch ears. i am german, french, irish and scottish, hawaiian/other pacific islander that i don’t wanna mention all of them and jewish! i don’t think i needed to include that but i’m proud of my heritage and i thought maybe it would be useful sjfjsjfnks. i can go from moments of batshit like licking chargers, eating lotion, sand and paint, and lighting things on fire and “i wanna live in a big city and cause chaos and make others fear me” to “i wanna live in a small cottage in the rolling hills of scotland and raise sheep and have 3 cats named rat, tat, and tatta” i love painting, and i have multiple articles of clothing that i have painted and drawn on, as well as cut, but i cant sow for the life of me. i also wanna have a small apartment somewhere but travel the world in a van. yeah- i think that’s about it- sorry this was so long KFJDBFJDNFJFMJ

DUDE, YOU ARE ASKING TO BE PAIRED WITH

Marko

Man, what a deadly twosome. You'll have the boys' nightmares coming true.

I don't know if you are taller than him. If you are, oh boy, can you enjoy it making blondie upset. He finds you being taller than him a real turn-on. If you aren't, he still finds you sexy as hell.

This man comforts and helps you with your anxiety, because when he falls in love there will be nothing as pure and strong in your life as what he feels for you, so if there is anything he can do to assist you, count on him. And about the crazy stuff, you know he is a mentally strange motherfucker too, and that is something that makes the two of you the explosive couple you are. If your anxiety stops you from doing something you love, he will encourage you to do it, because he knows you have the potential and blindly trusts in your skills, but will understand if you insist on not doing it and will give you time and space if you still don't feel prepared or in the mood. He will never give up tho.

You two would have these amazing brutal-as-fuck compilations with your favorite songs. Dividing them into moods, like having your favorite punk songs in the "wreck the system" tape, and your favorite metal songs in the "sunset strip whore" mix. For when you get into the classic goth mood, the atmosphere it creates and his company can turn the moment into a romantic event.

He shares your fascination for corporal modifications, so he will speak with you about some cool tattoos he saw in some random guy's arm at the boardwalk or this idea he has for a tattoo that he swears would look incredible. If you wanted to get one done for yourself, he will help you out selecting or designing the concept and will be by your side at the moment of getting it done. You could get a tattoo of an ordinary happy face and he would tell you it creates a super tough and dangerous aspect.

Ok, this is more a headcannon of mine, but I believe Marko to be Jewish too! So you will have him pronouncing B'shert very often.

Now, oh Lord, I wish I could tell you he is going to protect you from catching an infection, but truth is, there's no voice of reason in a pair like this. The worst part is, you two compete to see who can endure eating more sand. I'm not sure who would win this one.

Ah!, almost forgot, Paul had to buy a fire extinguisher because now he has two pyromaniacs in their prime to worry about.

First off, those are now top on my list "best names for your domestic rats" lmao. Second, this guy follows the game. I mean, the only friends he has besides the boys are his pigeons, and I bet my left arm one of them it's named Rambo.

Yes, this is sweet. He has this DIY fascination too, so for date ideas you two get together with a bunch of clothes ready to be modified. Like kids in kindergarten, you two end up with paint all over your faces, but the final product is worth it, tho. Because you two can express your distinctive styles with your brand new shirts and jeans. Cut wounds will be involved in this too.

[oneblueumbrella]

Thirty-minute Thursday

Howdy folks, in the interest of making sure I write on a regular basis, I’m starting Thirty-minute Thursday. The idea literally pulled me out of bed last night so I could scribble it down.

Basically: I grabbed a plot bunny, set my timer, and wrote for thirty minutes. I did one single pass edit, mostly for typos, and now I’m sending it out to you.

I hope to continue this each week, both to stretch my writing muscles and ease back into the tumblr-verse.

FORTUNE

PROMPT:  "A beautiful, smart, and loving person will be coming into your life," the fortune cookie says to Greg. Greg laughs in the Chinese restaurant. He doesn't believe in those things... Two minutes later, Greg bumps into Mycroft Holmes…

Greg rolled his eyes, re-reading the words. Outwardly, he was pretty sure he looked as sceptical as anyone would, reading such a fortune. Nobody would know how much those words had hit home. If he was a believer in karma, or fate or whatever, it might spark hope. Instead, Greg knew both karma and fate were human constructs, designed to make some people feel better about themselves, or less responsible for their lives or something.

If karma was real, he had no idea what he’d done to deserve Karen. Clearly he’d pissed off someone, because even now she affected his life. He wouldn’t be standing in this dodgy Chinese, the last place still open near work on a Thursday night, closer to midnight than he’d care to admit. Overtime wouldn’t matter this much; he’d be able to afford some decent food, and without all the hours at work, he could cook it for himself.

But she took so much when she left – literally and figuratively – so he was the guy who took on plenty of overtime when it was available. Greg was pretty sure people thought he was a workaholic, or maybe just a boring lonely old guy. That was closer to the truth than he cared for. A broke, lonely old guy was more like it. He was only boring because there was no time for anything interesting anymore. A quiet pint sometimes, and the football if he was lucky, but otherwise, life had not ended up where he thought it would.

If only karma was real. Greg reckoned he’d done some good in his life, tried to help people, let little old ladies go ahead of him at the checkout. Sure, there were some stupid decisions when he was younger, but nobody was hurt by a teenage boy scribbling on a wall somewhere, or wearing truly terrible clothing, or listening to awful music. He’d be due something good by now, by his reckoning.

Smoothing the paper out, Greg read it again.

A beautiful, smart, and loving person will be coming into your life.

He’d thought all those things applied to Karen, when they met; now he knew better. Knew to look past the superficial to find beauty, past loud statements to find quiet intelligence. Had seen it in people he was too afraid to approach.

Right now, when he thought of beautiful and smart and loving, one figure rose in his mind, and nobody in the world would be able to guess who it was. He’d learned to read the quiet mannerisms, to see the subdued reactions to the world surrounding that astonishing man. More than Sherlock, Greg appreciated the understated gestures of love Mycroft Holmes showed his brother. The two of them were the most undemonstrative people Greg had ever met, and he often wondered what their childhood had been like, to produce adults so different and yet so similar. He’d never had the courage to ask either man.

“Here you go!” the cheery man behind the counter said, passing Greg his order.

“Thanks,” he said, cradling the thin bag. It was hot, but he made it out the door before he had to shuffle it to the other hand.

As he did, the fortune cookie paper slid from his grasp, and Greg automatically ducked to grab it. Something crashed into his head, or he crashed into it, and with disconcerting suddenness he was sitting on the ground, blinking, his head pounding and stars dancing across his vision.

“Shit,” he said finally, more out of shock than anything else. What the hell did he hit his head on? There was nothing in the middle of the footpath, surely?

“Are you hurt?”

The voice was familiar, and Greg froze. Surely not. Not here, at such a late hour. Not after the fortune cookie.

“I’m fine,” Greg said, scrambling up. “Hi, Mycroft.”

“Gregory,” came the response, along with a suppressed smile. “I apologise, I was reaching down to pick up your…”

“Fortune,” Greg said with a self-conscious smile.

“Ah,” Mycroft replied. “An important prediction, if you are so intent on keeping it?”

“Maybe,” Greg said with a smile. He closed his fist around the paper. “Right now I’m more interested in this, though.” He raised the bag containing his dinner.

“You have not yet eaten?” Mycroft asked, his eyebrows raised.

“It was a late one,” Greg agreed.

Mycroft hesitated. “Might I offer you a lift home?” he asked.

“Sure,” Greg said. He ignored the irrational beating of his heart at this. Mycroft had given him a lift before, and it was hardly the start of anything significant.

“I have often wondered,” Mycroft said when they were settled in his car, “why it is you take on quite so much overtime.”

The direct question made Greg blink. “I beg your pardon?” he asked blankly.

“I apologise,” Mycroft said. “Last time we spoke, you encouraged me to ask a question when I hesitated. I understood it was acceptable to do so.”

“Yeah,” Greg agreed. “I did. Sorry. Just tired.”

“Yes,” Mycroft replied. “Hence my question. I apologise if it is too personal.”

“Not at all,” Greg replied. He sighed. This was the point he could laugh it off, change the subject; Mycroft would certainly take his lead. But he was tired, and it was a legitimate question, and if he was being honest with himself, it would be nice to talk to someone that wasn’t taking his order – either at work or in the dodgy Chinese.

“I have to,” he said finally. At Mycroft’s raised eyebrow, he added, “My ex-wife cleaned me out. Pension’s only a few years off but it’s not enough to stay in London, so I’m trying to save as much as I can until then.”

Mycroft stared at him. “I see,” he replied finally.

Greg shrugged. “It’s alright,” he said. “My clearance rate’s pretty high with all the extra hours. Might even get a promotion before I retire. That’d make the pension a bit better.”

“Gregory,” Mycroft said, “Please allow me to offer you an assurance.” He drew a deep breath. “Should you ever lack for a place to live in London, I will gladly accommodate you. I have access to a number-”

“No, Mycroft,” Greg interrupted, feeling himself flush. “I mean, thanks, but it’s fine.”

“It is not,” Mycroft replied with a heat that surprised Greg. “To be left in such a situation is far from fine, and if I am in a position to rectify it, I would wish to do so.”

Greg stared for long enough that Mycroft eventually looked away. It was fairly dark, but Greg would bet money Mycroft was flushing.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you offer that to someone?”

“Not to someone,” Mycroft corrected him. “To you.”

“Me?” Greg asked.

“Yes,” Mycroft replied simply, and to Greg’s astonishment his usually reserved face showed a range of emotion Greg was not even sure Mycroft even felt.

Holy shit.

“Oh,” Greg replied. He glanced out the window, blinking. “We’re at my place.”

Mycroft nodded. Greg’s heart pounded as he said, “Can I offer you a drink?”

“A drink?” Mycroft repeated.

“Or not,” Greg said. “A fortune, maybe.” He handed over the paper. “I think I’ve already got mine.”

Mycroft read the tiny words, his mouth dropping open at the implied meaning. When he looked back up at Greg, it was with a question clear in his eyes.

Greg nodded, heart in his mouth.

Mycroft returned the nod, swallowing hard as he followed Greg from the car.

+++

Five months later, the fortune sat framed in the entrance to a small, comfortable flat in central London, close to Westminster and Scotland Yard.

Five years after that, it adorned the bedside table of a cottage in a very tiny village an hour from central London, in which two very happy men had agreed to retire.

[mymelodyheart]

Highland Destiny Chapter 7 ~Vive La France~

Claire carefully pulled out a box from her wardrobe. It was a box that contained Frank's important documents, among other things. Geillis had mentioned the name Jared Fraser in a conversation the previous night while they were discussing Jaime, and somewhere on the back of her head, the name rang a bell. She had seen it written somewhere before.  But where?

She browsed through all the papers and finally pulled one out that caught her eye. On the letterhead, it said Château Cheval Blanc. Claire had seen this document in the past but never paid close attention to it, just like with the rest of the papers Frank left behind. After her husband died, her lawyer had gone through everything she bequeathed and her endowment fund policies, but nothing registered at that time because of the grief she was going through. Not wanting to deal with the bureaucracy that comes after the death of a family member, all the papers have been put away to be forgotten. Now, looking at the single piece of paper in her hand, Claire Beauchamp just realised she was a 15% shareholder of the company Château Cheval Blanc, formerly owned by the late Jared Fraser.

..........

James Fraser was watching Claire from the bedroom door as he leaned on the door frame. She was putting away a box labelled "FRANK" into the wardrobe. He wondered if she still missed her late husband. The thought of her thinking of another man, deceased or alive, didn't sit well in his wame. It felt like an overwhelming burn blossoming at the bottom of its pit only to rise up to his chest and make his heart constrict. "Sassenach, I have to go soon," he said softly.

Distracted, she looked at his direction. "Oh right, I forgot you have a plane to catch...give me a sec." She was frowning and seemed lost in her thoughts.  Will she miss me?  Studying her surreptitiously, he noticed how small she looked dressed in nothing but his shirt and that ridiculous white woollen socks she loved to wear when at home. With her hair loose and wild, she had her reading glasses perched on her head buried in the riot of curls. When Claire did finally come to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his chest beaming at him with her cheeks flushed and her lips still swollen from his kisses. She smelled of bergamot oil and wildflowers, and her breath of coffee. "Right soldier, have a safe trip. Enjoy Paris for me!" She stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss, her lips soft and warm and very inviting.

He looked down at her bright amber eyes and once again he was drawn to its bottomless pools of whisky gold. "Christ Sassenach, I will be missing ye so much. I wish ye were coming with me." He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his head to give her a thorough kiss. The sounds she made at the back of her throat was driving him insane with lust, making leaving difficult. It was only two hours ago they made love, and he felt like doing it all over again.

"I will miss you too, but you'll be back tomorrow night...so enjoy while you're there," she whispered. "Besides, you'll be too preoccupied to think of me. You must be one very important man to be sent to Paris on a business mission." She nuzzled her face at the base of his throat, careful not to disturb his tie while her small hands made their way under his suit, causing him to smile.

"I guess I have my use. How about ye? What will ye do without me?" he asked, his forefinger caressing the lines of her jaw while his other hand slipped under her shirt and settled underneath the waistband of her panties. He wanted her to say,  I don't know what I'll do without you.  Or something ridiculous like , I will feel lost without you.

"Well...I have friends coming over tonight. Geillis, Joe and Tom. We'll be watching rugby with a few pizzas and wine thrown in..." she replied, her fingers weaving through his hair at the nape of his neck, making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Jamie stiffened at the mention of Tom's name but maintained his cool. "Alright, no wild parties. I ken what ye're like when ye've had a bit too much to drink..."  What was she thinking?   This home was their bubble away from the prying eyes of the world.  

"Like I lose all my inhibitions? Like I did with you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" she ribbed, as she ran her hands down his back to momentarily rest on his arse and then slowly glide up again from the base of his spine to his shoulder blades.

He smiled despite having mixed feelings about Tom Christie coming over to the cottage. "I'm having difficulty leaving ye Sassenach, and yet ye're teasing me." She stood so close, he wanted her to cling to him and wrap her legs around his waist. He could have easily lifted her up to him, but he wanted so badly for her to make that move.

"Oh, so am I a tease now? Look who's talking." She laughed as she released him. "Alright soldier, on you go...you don't want to miss your flight."  But I don't want to go. Ask me to stay.

Instead of letting go, he held her tight and searched her face. Jamie wanted to say something...anything, but for once, he was at a loss for words. Not that he didn't want to say what he wished to convey, but because he didn't know how to say it. The only thing he knew was that his feelings for Claire were too powerful for words, so instead, he showed her with his kiss.

..........

Normally, the first thing James Fraser would do when he arrived in Paris was to call Annalise de Marillac, his on and off girlfriend/lover for the last 4 years and a well-known socialite among the Parisienne celebrious. Twice they were engaged and twice she broke off their engagement, not because of Jamie but because of what she perceived her life would be living in Scotland. She loved the celebrity lifestyle and the fame that came with it, and Jamie preferred a quiet life in the highlands. Although they have broken up amicably, they have maintained a no-strings-attached sexual relationship whenever Jamie came to Paris.

A celebrity in his own right, after a successful breakthrough with Frisealach in Europe, James Fraser never cared for the limelight. His publicist, François de St. Germain insisted he maintained a well-publicised profile to capture the interest of the international market. Following his advice proved to be profitable for his business, and soon he was rubbing shoulders with the elite, and world-renowned whisky connoisseurs. Jamie was often photographed with and linked to beautiful women in tabloid newspapers - all in the name of marketing and promotions for Frisealach Distillery. With his good looks, charm and business acumen at such a young age, it didn't take long before he became the darling of European media, and his whisky was most sought after.

His fame led his uncle Jared to approach him for help when his wine business, Château Cheval Blanc, the biggest in France started to fail due to some unfavourable judgments in the past. It was barely surviving and was only being propped up by investors who acquired shares on a condition to invest a substantial amount of money. The biggest shareholder was Annalise de Marillac's father, the ambitious Frédéric de Marillac. Before Jamie's uncle died, his only dying wish from his nephew was to make sure the company stayed under Fraser's name, and he promised his uncle he would do what he can.

In the last five years, Jamie had made it his mission to buy out all the shareholders but only managed to accumulate 40% of the shares of the company. When he offered to buy out Frédéric de Marillac's 45%, it was turned down even when the offer was double its value. After finding out Jamie was seeing his daughter, Frédéric Marillac agreed to the proposition under the condition he married Annalise. Frédéric knew Jamie was desperate to have the company under sole ownership. And Frédéric also knew that Jamie's marriage to his daughter would boost his own business, recognising the fact that his prominence was quickly rising and opening important doors in the corporate world. Although Jaime was willing to marry Annalise for the sake of keeping the company in Fraser's name, he wasn't prepared to give up living in Scotland, and Annalise wasn't ready to leave the celebrity lifestyle. 

When Annalise broke off their engagement, it became a race for the two businessmen to find the elusive 15% shareholder for control over the business. In reality, James Fraser had no power over the company, but in the media, he was the image that represented Château Cheval Blanc.

..........

Jamie walked in into his luxury suite in The Four Seasons Hôtel George V and threw his travelling case onto the massive, luxurious bed. He had always stayed there whenever he came to Paris because he knew Annalise loved the extravagant, sumptuous settings. He had booked the room weeks in advance before he met Claire, and now, looking at his surrounding, he felt hollow and empty and the beauty of it meaningless.

He reached for his phone and instead of calling Annalise, he called Claire.

"Sassenach? Hi, it's me, Jamie."

"Jaime! Of course, it's you, silly! Who else would call me by that name? Are you in Paris already?" Her voice sounded like a balm to his soul.

"Aye, I just came into my room," he replied, smiling to himself as he loosened his tie and leaned back against the headboard. "Mmm, are ye alright, Sassenach?

"Yeah, I'm great. You?" He could hear running water.

"Aye, I'm just getting comfortable. What are ye doing? Are ye busy?"  I hope not.

Claire laughed. "I knew you were about to ask that. I'm having a bath right now. I went for a walk earlier in the fields to pick some wildflowers but came home all drenched. I was so cold I had to run a bath. That's Scottish weather for you!"

"Sassenach?"

There was a long pause before Claire replied. "Yes, Jaime?"

"I really miss you."Jaime wanted to say more, but he was unsure what.

"Oh Jamie, I missed you too but seriously, did you call up just to tell me that? Don't you have work to do?" She sounded amused.

Ignoring the question, Jamie asked, "What do ye miss about me?"

"Well, if you must know, I missed the sound of the floorboard creaking under your weight whenever you're walking around," she said giggling.

"Is that all?" He asked in a more serious tone.

Jamie heard Claire sigh. "Are you homesick Jamie? Don't worry, in just over 24 hours you'll be home soon."

"Aye, ye're right Sassenach, I'll be home soon to ye." Jamie felt comforted by this thought.

..........

Jamie had made up his mind. In truth, he only wanted to save Château Cheval Blanc, because it was his uncle's request and he wanted to preserve his family heritage. It was time to cut off his ties with the de Marillacs. He will make one last offer, and if Frédéric turns it down, then it's time to move on. Jamie knew he had done his best, and if the meeting turned out to be unsuccessful, nothing more could be done.

As expected, Frédéric turned down the offer since he knew the business in Château Cheval Blanc was picking up again after Jamie's name was linked to the company. But Jamie wanted no more part of it and had arranged with his lawyer, Ned Gowan, to prepare the papers for the sale of his own shares. Not surprisingly, a couple of hours after the meeting concluded, Annalise sent him a text.

Darling, I heard you were in town. Why didn't you call? Anyway, we need to talk. Maybe I was hasty breaking off our engagement. I was young, and I loved the parties, but now I'm ready to settle down. We can live in Scotland if you wish. Or wherever in the world. I can't talk now, but I will be coming to Scotland in the next few days. We can talk about our wedding then.

Jamie tried to call Annalise to tell her it was over, but she didn't answer the phone.

.........

Claire had just come out of the shower, her hair still wet and wearing only Jamie's shirt, as she made way to the kitchen. The plan was to make quiche for Jamie's supper when he arrives. Earlier in the day she had quickly tidied up the lounge, getting rid of the evidence of previous night's rugby party with her friends. She was in the middle of chopping leeks when a car parked outside. Unable to see from the window, she wondered who it might be. Looking at the clock, it was only 4 pm, and Jamie wasn't expected until 9 that evening. She was just heading for the bedroom to put a robe on when the front door suddenly opened. 

"Jamie! You're home early!"

Jamie dropped his bag and coat on the floor, and without saying a word, he walked towards Claire in 3 strides and lifted her in his arms. Before she could say a word, he had her pinned against the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing her hungrily. 

"Oh God, Sassenach I missed ye so much," he muttered when he finally released her mouth for some air. He proceeded to kiss her neck as his hands roamed her body and stopped when he realised she wasn't wearing anything underneath. "Christ Claire, what are ye doing walking around the house half-naked? What if ye had visitors?"

She laughed. "Visitors came and went last night. And...by the way, welcome home soldier. I wasn't expecting you this early."

Still holding her against him, Jamie carried Claire to the dining area and sat down on a chair with her straddling him. He nestled his face into her neck, his arms pulling her body closer. "Weel, work was done early, and I couldna wait to come home to ye...so I bought an earlier ticket."

"Jamie," she whispered, "you feel at home here, with me?"

He lifted his head and smiled. "Aye Sassenach, I do. Ye didna mind having me around, dae ye?"

"No, Jamie. I don't mind having you around," she replied, her arms wrapping around his neck.

They sat hugging each other for some time, not speaking, just holding each other close, listening to each other's heartbeat.

"Sassenach?"

"Mmmm?"

"Will ye accompany on Saturday as my date to a charity ball? Frisealach will be hosting the event to raise money for St. Agnes, and I would like it verra much if ye can come."

Claire smiled. "Of course, Jaime I would love to." And with that, she pulled his head closer and kissed the top of his head.

[gingerlexi2897]

When we go to Scotland as a family, we have one rule: we have to visit a castle every day and we have to sit in a pub every day. Thankfully, neither of these are very hard to find so we tend to do a pretty good job of following it. Since Itty and Erin are basically family at this point, we stuck to the rule and Erin would quite enthusiastically remind us of it about every 5 minutes.

The Saturday morning following Erin, Itty, and I’s adventure in Glasgow, we threw all of our laundry back into our backpacks, hauled our luggage back down the 4 flights of stairs, and took an UBER out to the airport where we collected our rental car. After a quick pit stop at Costco, (because why not?) we found ourselves heading north on the M90 towards Perth for a week of laughs, zero personal space, and of course, castles and pubs.

When Mum and I first visited Scotland back in the summer of 2014, we spent about a week in Perth and absolutely fell in love with the riverside city and the surrounding countryside. Since then, every time we have been back in the country, we have tried to at least drive through the town. It was here last summer that we met the Martins and the Crawfords after a Sunday church service at Tayside Christian Fellowship and first heard from them about camp in Hungary. So when it came to making our plans for this summer, we knew we wanted to be somewhere close to Perth and our friends there. Thanks to some help from the Crawfords, we were able to find a self-catering holiday let just up the hill from the River Tay and Perth, close enough to town yet far enough to feel like you were in the middle of nowhere.

The owners had converted what used to be an old stable block for Kinfauns Castle and turned them into 1 to 4 bedroom holiday cottages. When we originally made the plans and booked the cottage, we weren’t sure if Itty and Erin would be with us for this part of the trip, so we booked the two-bedroom and hoped for the best. If you’ve ever wondered how to fit 3 people in two single beds we would suggest pushing the two beds together, as well as being comfortable with zero personal space, having strong upper body strength to fight for your blanket, and oh bums to crack. It is genuinely a miracle that Erin, Itty, and I not only shared the two single beds but were squished into the backseat of a car for a week and didn’t want to kill each other. In fact, we only aggressively yelled when we decided to give running a try and I remembered a very important fact: I don’t run. 

For the two Sundays that we spent in Perth, we attended Tayside Christian Fellowship and spent the afternoons with the team that had been at Camp with us. I think being back with our friends from Camp was something that we had been looking forward to since we had left Budapest the previous week. After lunch at Jim and Carolyn’s, we gathered our bags that they had so kindly brought back from Hungary with them, and set about the task of washing ALL of our stuff. It seems that the day the Scottish team flew back to Edinburgh, it had absolutely poured, soaking everyone’s bags. Unfortunately, ours, even though they were hard-sided had not managed to stay dry. For the first part of our week at the holiday cottage was spent with nearly every piece of clothing we had with us strewn out on every possible surface in an attempt to dry it. Thankfully in all of the loads of laundry we did, only one pair of red socks snuck into a load of whites, so with pink-tinted clothes we set about to achieve our goal of a castle and a pub a day.

You’ll be happy to know that we achieved our goal of a castle and pub a day. We spent hours wandering the halls and gardens of Glamis Castle, the childhood home of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, Scone Palace, the crowning place of Scottish kings, and Blair Castle with its giant trees, amongst others. For us, it doesn’t really matter if it is an ornately decorated palace or ruins in a field, we love all castles equally. Just like we love all fuzzy Highland Cows equally. If you know me, you know I absolutely LOVE Highland Cows. From their wee legs to their fuzzy hair and everything in between. I may or may not have cried the first time I saw one in person 5 years ago. One of the things Erin and I discovered early into our friendship was our mutual love of cows, so one of the most important items on the list for Scotland was to see a Highland Cow. I wish I could share all of the pictures I took of her in the buildup to seeing these cows, but there simply isn’t enough room. It’s the little things in life that bring so much joy. Oh, and if you’re looking for gift ideas for either of us in the future, a fuzzy cow will do.

Mum, (and now Itty and Erin as well), are huge fans of the book and TV series Outlander, so when we found out that one of the towns used for filming wasn’t too far from us in Perth, we knew we had to go. Culross is this adorable, picturesque town with narrow cobblestone streets, ruins of an abbey, and a quintessential pub. It’s almost as if it has been entirely unaffected by life outside the city walls and it is just the same as it had been almost 400 years ago. Even though we blatantly ignored the menacing rain clouds on the horizon and ended up in the pouring rain, Culross was absolutely worth it.

While all of the touring was great, it was the evenings we spent with our friends that were the best part of the week. During the 7 days we stayed at the holiday let, we had the opportunity to see many of our friends who lived in the area and have them over to our little cottage either for dinner or just a drink afterwards. From silly jokes to discussions about theology or just local history, we covered it all. It really is the people that keep us coming back every chance we can get.

To more castles and pubs in the future,

Lexi

Songs for Scotland pt II:

Smack That – Akon, Eminem

Senorita – Camilla Cabello, Shawn Mendes

Lift Yourself – Kanye West

Sweet But Psycho –  Ava Max

Castles and Pubs When we go to Scotland as a family, we have one rule: we have to visit a castle every day and we have to sit in a pub every day.

[seablue4u]

A New Beginning

This is a fulfillment for the #OLPromptExchange for @thelallybrochlibrary The prompt was “Your feet will bring you where your heart is. 

This is the first thing that I’ve ever published on the web for people to actually read. 

Claire stepped off the plane and into the crisp clean air at the Inverness Airport, in Scotland, with five month old Brianna Fraser on her hip. She was tired. She hadn’t slept the entire nine hour trip. Her mind was reeling a thousand miles an hour, her bairn on the other hand seemed to have no problems sleeping through the ride.

After finding out the truth that Frank had been having affairs the entire time they were married she decided to leave, now she had decisions to make, like where she would go. She couldn’t go to the Reverend Wakefield’s home, that would be the first place Frank would think to call. No, she would check into an Inn.

“Food first,” she thought, as her stomach started to grumble.

As she drove she looked out the window at the countryside. She remembered the events that happened last time she was here in Scotland. Thoughts of Castle Leoch, Wentworth Prison, LallyBroch, Fort William  and Culloden went through her head. She missed Scotland, the crisp air and the open spaces; Boston didn’t have that; everything was so close together. She missed Jenny, Ian and Fergus, oh Fergus! How she thought of him as her son even now, but most of all she missed Jamie. He was her soul, her reason her conscience if she were being honest.

She stopped at a little bakery on Academy Street and got herself and Brianna out of the car. The place was bustling for so early in the morning. People were ordering pastries and tea while talking to one another about their families.

“This is nice.” she thought with wistfully as she sat down at a table near the window.  She knew it was impossible but she so wished she were still with Jamie.

She had dreams of what life would be like if she had stayed. She would have told Jenny, Ian, and Fergus the truth. They deserved to know the truth, that she was from the future and that she knew what was going to happen.

Hours passed as she sat there looking out the window of the bakery, with her tea, sweet pastries, and milk for the baby. She really didn’t see anything or hear anyone she was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear or see Mrs. Graham approach her with a toddler and wee Roger in toe.

“Not so little anymore,” She thought to herself looking at Roger.

“Claire!  Charaid,  what are you doing here?” The older woman exclaimed.

“It’s a long story,” Claire replied.

“Well come on back to my place with Fiona and me and we’ll get you settled. Roger is staying for a while as well while the Reverend is away.” Mrs. Graham said.

“I have a room at an Inn in Inverness.” Replied Claire.

“Nonsense, Claire, you’ll stay with me and that’s it.”

Claire knew it was futile to fight the woman so she picked up Brianna and put her in the car and followed Mrs. Graham back to her house.

The house was a simple stone cottage with moss hanging on the roof. Smoke was coming from the chimney. The smells emanating from the home were delicious. It smelled like, homemade stew with potatoes, carrots, turnips, and other vegetables she couldn’t place.   There were all sorts animals running around in the front and back yards, but the one that made her breath hitch was a black stallion, who reminded her of Donas, back in the eighteenth century. She sort of missed that sordid horse if she were honest.

Inside the cosy house she sat in the living room while a bassinet was being set up for Brianna in the guest room. She looked around the room, there were pictures of Fiona, Mrs. and Mr. Graham at varying stages of their life and even some of wee Roger. Seeing these pictures made her yearn even more for what could never be.  There were pictures of holidays, school functions, picnices and everything in between. She never had a life like this with Frank, and she would never have a life like this with Jamie.

Mrs. Graham entered the living room and sat down next to her, a knowing look in her eye. It was like she knew what was going on without Claire having to say a word. Claire took a deep breath and started telling her about finding out about the very first affair that Frank had, when they were married;before she went through the stones, she told her about finding out that Frank had started sleeping with his students when they first moved to Boston and continued after Brianna was born.

By the time Claire was done talking the sun was setting in the sky behind the mountains. She knew it wasn’t going to solve anything by talking, but she felt better, another one of her secrets could be told to someone she trusted. She felt as if the weight she had been carrying was lifted from her shoulders in a way.

“I feel like I’ve broken my promise to Jamie by not staying with Frank.”

“From what you have told me about him, Jamie is not a man that would hold it against you for breaking this promise if he knew the situation. He would want you to do what is best for you and his daughter.” Mrs. Graham squeezed Claire’s hand in reassurance and got up to refill the teapot.

“Do I tell her about Jamie, the real story? Frank made me promise when I was pregnant that I wouldn’t say a word to the child ever.”

“I know, and if I’m honest that’s the most idiotic move ye’ve made regarding your bairn Claire. Brianna deserves to know who her father is, where she comes from, where you’ve been, it’s her story too. Don’t you think?”

They sat in silence, Brianna playing on the floor at the women’s feet while the older children ran around outside until supper. Claire was thinking about everything that had happened.

She had so many decisions to make. She couldn’t go back to Boston, she didn’t have any relatives there, but she didn’t have anyone here in Scotland either. Not anymore anyway. In essence, she was on her own. She could get a job as a nurse somewhere surely, and get her own place. That thought brought up the outlandish possibility of trying to find and buy Lallybroch. Is it possible? Is it possible to get any of my belongings back? Any of Jamie’s belongings? She mused. She’d look into it. The long shot that it would be. She looked over at Mrs. Graham with an unspoken question in her eyes.

“Your feet will bring you where your heart is.” was the reply.

[thewallflowereon]

Oh how I wish I could run away to Scotland.

See Edinburgh, live in the best dark academia life. Maybe become a college professor who teaches literature or philosophy or astronomy or quantum physics. Maybe I’d like to go to the highlands and live in a little cottage with cattle and farmland surrounding me, though I doubt much could grow with that weather. Maybe work in a little coffee shop or in a little book store or library. Maybe sell homemade jelly and jam and make homemade bread to go along with it. Have a porch with a rocking chair, a tree with a swing, a case of books, a desk full of written poetry or letters, yet to be sent out to foreign countries with quaint names. Maybe I’d go see Callanish Stones like the ones in outlander. I don’t care how I’d live there, I just care that I do. Burry me along with the fungi and mushrooms and let them consume me. Burry my six feet deep in the highlands’ mountains, or place my ashes somewhere down in a riverbank, or grow my ashes with a tree seed, so that I may be reborn as a beautiful honey crisp apple tree. Oh how I wish, I wish.

[heatherfield]

Tagged by the lovely @a-mi-zivi. Thank you!

Answer the questions given to you. Make 11 questions of your own. Tag 11 people.

1. Can you tell me about a dream that you still think about sometimes? I’ve had a lot of weird dreams—and ones that I remember—but nothing that I think about regularly. I did just remember a dream I had as a kid where I had the “Beauty and the Beast” book and cassette tape that “read” the book. I just saw it at a church bazaar sale and picked it up for 50 cents because, why not???

2. How about top 5 things that made you smile this week?

The new “Little Women” miniseries

My dad pulling out “To Walk Invisible” on Christmas day ‘cause he happened to see it at the library and knows I love the Brontës

MY UNCLE’S NEW KITTEN

The pretty Christmas decorations

Seeing various family for Christmas

3. Is there a book you would buy multiple editions of? TOO MANY. I want to collect all the pretty versions of classic books but there’s so many it makes my heart hurt. I do own at least two versions of every Jane Austen book though. 

4. What does your dream living space look/smell/feel/sound like? A cozy 19th century-esque cottage/small house with lots of books and natural light.

5. What are some tropes that would be included in the perfect story for you? A couple that slowly grows to love each other when they get to know each other (the guy falls hard for the girl first, of course, and the girl realizes how great the guy is). There has to be some painful, mutually unrequited pining going on before the big happy ending. Usually takes place in the 19th century.

6. What’s your go-to meal when you don’t really feel like eating but you still have to? Hahaha you mean me every day?? Microwave butter chicken dinners, or my own pasta dish with kale and butter and lemon and penne. Mmmmmm.

7. Tell me one unpopular opinion? Um... oh, one is that I don’t really like Benedict Cumberbatch.

8. What kind of dystopian future do you think you have the skills to survive? Oh, probably non at all.

9. What is a huge popular thing (movie/book/tv show/song/celebrity) that you find underwhelming? A lot, too be honest. :P Oooh, Game of Thrones. Downton Abbey.

10. What is your most surreal experience? Meeting Raphael Sbarge.

11. Which song would you sing to introduce yourself? Oh, goodness, I have no idea!! Oh, wait, probably “Belle” from “Beauty and the Beast” XD. 

And then I was tagged by the lovely @misscamthenorwegian. Thank you!

1. If you could go one places absolutely free of charge and stay for two weeks, where would you go? Travelling around Scotland and Ireland and England would be amazing. Although it would also be great to relax somewhere in the Mediterranean. 

2. What’s the best season? I appreciate them all but I love summer and the nice weather.

3. What’s your favorite joke about a neighbouring country? *snort* There’s a lot that can be said about the United States...

4. You can make one thing come true tomorrow. What would it be? That... Meghan Ory and Raphael Sbarge star in a Hallmark movie together? :P

5. What smell reminds you of your childhood? Ooooh... I don’t know! But I still live in my childhood home with my parents lol.

6. What’s your favorite fictional dragon? I’m super boring but I can’t think of any!

7. A thousand years from now your hardrive is recovered by archeologists, and they manage to restore the contents. What will puzzle them the most? Dang it, that’s hard. Maybe how both a complete mess all of these files are (like, everything I’ve done since the mid-2000s-ish) but in some areas how things are completely organized to the most miniscule degree. 

8. Your favorite artist or composer has agreed to make the theme for your favorite TV show. What will that theme be like? Hmm... probably whimsical and dramatic, and very reminiscent of an Alan Menken score mixed with a bit of Bear McCreary? Ooh but also Dario Marianelli.

9. Most overrated book you’ve ever read? Anything by Francine Rivers.

10. What’s the nerdist thing you own? ...I have the action figure of Robin Hood from the BBC’s “Robin Hood” TV show.

11. Who would you want to swap lives with for just one day? Oooh, just one day would be cool. Hmm, would I go for someone whose secrets I want to know? Or just overall cool experience? I think it would be fun to be some random rich person who’s not famous so I could just be pampered for a day. Or better yet, it would be fun to be an actor in a period drama so see what it’s like to be on set and wear all the gorgeous costumes.

Okay, here are my questions (I’ve been putting this off for way too long and I’m sorry if these are too generic but tough beans):

What is something you’d like to be remembered for?

What is one thing you own that you’ve never get rid of?

What is the most embarrassing crush you’ve had? (Real or fictional)

What is one of your favourite scents?

Is there a writer/artist that you emulate e.g. incorporate into your own style?

What’s one song that you could listen to every day for the rest of your life?

What’s your least favourite word?

Do you have a favourite trope that you could see play out over and over?

What’s the one chore you don’t mind doing?

Do you like to go away on vacations or do you stay home?

Is Valentine’s Day fun or overrated?

Tagging, should you wish to do this: @ilovecorgibutts, @jadelotusflower, @dreamlikemusings, @boleyngirl39, @lunasink, @loveofromance, @ashadeofpemberley, @austennerdita2533, @zoe19blink, @4vrafangirl and whoever else would like to do this. :D

[maiakinsley]

heart full of stars.

inspo/aesthetic tag

Summary 

“the future girl,” he breathed out, “with a heart full of s t a r s.”

In the distant future, time travel is not only possible, but civillian. When the technology was first introduced, only government officials were allowed to use it; after safeguards were developed to ensure time travel could be introduced to the public, businesses jumped at the chance to create a new sector of travel. 

When the galaxies have already been explored, who could pass up the opportunity to see what no living creature ever has - the past?

Jexa Braley, a time travel agent with the luxurious travel agency known as the Opal Star, is the best in the business. Her research - that any time travel agent must do before a group can travel - is always impeccable; she is sure to find the right dates to travel back to and always uses the best identities for her tour group. Not once has she ever done any actions to disrupt the past, and her clean track record could prove it. 

It was during one of her research runs (on the second run, to be exact) that Jexa broke rule number 1: do not interact with any individuals from the past. She didn’t mean to - her notebook had taken all of her attention as she wrote notes and details on the Scottish city around her for her travel group. Jack Collins was similarly distracted - eyes upward to the sky during a contemplative nightly stroll - and noticed her when it was too late. The two collided; he apologized, and offered her a drink to make amends. It was then that Jexa broke rule number 2: if you do interact, remove yourself from the situation as soon as possible. 

Jexa couldn’t stay away. At the end of every meeting, Jack always convinced her to meet with him again, and soon, she was spending more time in the past, than in the present. She knows that it isn’t a matter of if anybody from her life will find out about her secret trips, but when... 

Sparknotes (TLDR)

Characters:

Jexa Braley - Time travel agent, has worked at her job for 3 years. As per her job, she has to do research runs back to a specific time period that a group of interested travelers wish to go to and ensure they can “tour” it without altering the past. 

Jack Collins - WW2 veteran pilot in the RAF; living in Glasgow. At the time of the story, it’s been 5 years since WW2 and he’s adjusting to civilian life but troubled by the friends he lost in the war (most notably, Dunkirk, in which he lost a pilot he was flying with). 

Marsa Harlow - friend to Jexa and colleague at the agency; in charge of checking travel plans and monitoring all trips in case anything goes dire 

More minor characters obviously but this is the most important

Plot:

On one of her research runs, Jexa bumps into (cliche i know but leave me BE) Jack Collins, a red-haired Scottish boy with eyes as beautiful as the ocean 

She’s flustered, already knowing she broke the first rule - which she’s never done - and when he invites her inside a local pub for a drink to make up for it she just agrees because there’s something about him that she just can’t say no to?

(and she’s already broken one rule, why not make it 2?) 

They hit. it. off. Jexa tells herself the whole night this is the only time they’ll meet, so enjoy and just cut herself off from him. She’ll go back home and tell her higher ups that this specific time and place isn’t fun for a travel group and they can pick somewhere else to go 

but, he’s just so nice and funny and charming and when he asks if he can see Jexa again she just can’t help but say yes

novel continues with them meeting here and there, different dates all timed expertly apart. Jexa creates a different identity for herself, says she’s from England, but she studied in Scotland, etc etc. she is able to edit her time travel logs to make them nonexistent so people don’t catch on at work because what she’s doing now is illegal 

They’re close - and when Jack drops the love bomb on Jexa while they’re out on a ~vacation~ of sorts at a summer cottage, she doesn’t even hesitate to say it back. She’s fallen hard for someone she can’t be with - and part of her knows this, but part of her can’t leave him 

and she gets sloppy. a few trips fall through the cracks of her scrutiny and she doesn’t even realize that her time travel device has been tampered with until she’s standing outside of Jack Collin’s house, feet deep in snow, watching as he eats a Christmas dinner with a wife and son 

her colleague and friend at the agency, Marsa (who was blissfully unaware of Jexa’s travels until she noticed the trips) showed her what Jack’s life was like 5 years into the future for him if Jexa stopped visiting him. that he’d move on, and be with the woman he’s meant to be with. 

this is hard for Jexa. she leaves with Marsa and doesn’t see him for months. she couldn’t bring herself to - but she started to feel guilty that she just left him without no word. even if he’ll have a good life in the end, she can’t help but feel crushed knowing that he doesn’t know why she’s gone

(and if she’s being honest - she just wants to say goodbye to him for real)

so she goes back, and ends things with him - only she wants to be truthful and decides to break another rule: never reveal where you’re really from. 

she tells him that he’ll be married happily with children but not with her

he obviously doesn’t believe her - thinks she’s making an excuse for dumping him - but she shows him her device and they talk and he solemnly accepts that this is their fate; to have loved each other once and to never be able to again 

they share one last dance and she leaves 

months pass by again. she’s done her best to forget about jack. she tried to date, but nobody came close to him. 

on a whim, she decides to look him up - finds his obituary, just wants to be reassured she made the right decision - and finds that he didn’t marry or have kids - that his obituary praises him for his sacrifice in the war and his charity work. 

it strikes her that she saw a timeline of jack where she disappeared without telling him the truth; that he must’ve assumed she up and ditched him and married another woman under those assumptions 

but by going back and telling him the truth, she altered his timeline. his future. 

so she set forth on the most important plan of her life 

she goes back to 1 year after she last saw jack. she explains why she’s back and how she unintentionally changed the course of his life 

her time travel device has been altered, thanks to Marsa (who has come around to this idea and plan) to transmit back to their office that no life pulse can be read - in this event, as per company policy, the module will self destruct so no evidence of it can be discovered. 

and they live happily ever after the end.

[cyclicallife]

Over a decade ago, when life seemed easier in many ways, partly due to blissful naivety, I left Paris en route to Munich. There I met up with German buddies with the intention of making our way on yet another adventure around the British Isles. Though I had been there a few times prior, I hadn’t traveled by car and I knew this would add a whole new dimension to our journey. The British Isles, namely Scotland, are the land(s) of my ancestors. I was keen on getting off the beaten track, so to speak, and really explore.

The year prior, or perhaps two years prior, we met up in Zurich, where I was studying at the time, and set out to explore Italy. Both journeys were full of spontaneity and, naturally, considering our ages, delicious German beers. Heavy drinking aside, each journey graced us with limitless possibilities. Cliche, perhaps, but it is true in the sense that we each grew throughout our adventures. Of course this is only in hindsight, as always, and one looks back on such voyages with a sigh and a smile, retracing not only the steps that we took then, but the steps that lead each of us to our current places here and now.

There were many, many laughs along the way which weren’t entirely due to the beer, some two or three cases, which took up more space than our luggage. We encountered some caravan dwelling folks in Calais who seemed to live in a clown car of sorts as each time we turned around there was another… and another… and another. Each one disembarked until their numbers were great and we soon realized that their intentions were not as friendly as we had assumed… blessed naivety. When we needed, which was often, we slept on beaches when the weather was “nice” and huddled under the car, an old Mercedes (which is probably still going strong to this day) when the weather took a fowl turn. One of their friends, who was studying at Oxford, invited us to stay in his dorm room which made up for the nights sleeping under the car. We cooked white rice over a camp stove and added ketchup to flavor it… a delectable meal indeed, even if the rice was a little crunchy. We crossed over the Irish sea on a late night ferry from Holyhead. The ferry seemed almost entirely empty at this godforsaken hour and we sprawled out in the passenger lounge on hard plastic seats to catch a little rest. Rest evaded me as the rocking of the ferry made me queasy.

Somewhere well south of Dublin we were driving along a double-lane highway which, seemingly instantaneously, turned into a sort of country lane just wide enough for two cars to pass. From there it tapered off into a single lane, then a dirt road, then a path which, I presume, was made for a tractor or other such piece of equipment. I am not sure if it ended off all together into pure, Irish countryside or not… The roadmap, had it been used with more regularity, consisted of major roadways, highways, etc., But this little dirt track surely wasn’t on it. To make matters more interesting, our dual language road map was perfect for a German or English speaking traveler wishing to stay on the main autoroutes, but not helpful in our current situation. All the signs we could see, some just propped up on rock walls, others, which seemed to point in a random direction and undoubtedly acted more as weathervanes, swiveling this way and that even in the gentlest of breezes, were in Irish (Gaelic).

In the middle of seemingly nowhere we came upon a small cottage. It was an idyllic, postcard worthy scene. After a brief discussion it was decided that, since English was my native tongue, I would go and speak with whoever was there — if anyone at all. I paused for a moment after knocking on the door to admire the location of the house. I also began to wonder how one might live here in what seemed to me to be the middle of nowhere. Just when I was about to leave the door opened and an older women greeted me. I can’t imagine how I looked considering we had been sleeping under a car and consuming white rice with ketchup washed down beer for the better part of 2 weeks. But she didn’t seem to notice or care. I presume she had been watching from a window, studying the car with German plates and the three bedraggled boys in it.

“Good afternoon,” I said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but we’re lost.”

She smiled warmly.

It wasn’t until years later that I began to consider my comment and her potential interpretation of it. Here we were in what I called the “middle of nowhere”, but to her it was home.

Lost Past and past participle of lose. Adjective: lost Denoting something that has been taking away or cannot be recovered, e.g., a lost opportunity.

It isn’t that an opportunity is lost forever, it is simply that such tidbits of wisdom only arrive when one is ready to receive them. I believe the opportunity will present itself again and again in various ways and forms until the knowledge is seen and accepted.

This journey, that of illness and recovery, is an opportunity, right? I get glimpses of this now and then and a sort of blissful warmth runs over me. Then I slip backwards and become bitter at the thought of seeing something that has caused so much pain and suffering as a chance to learn and grow. Couldn’t I have learned this in a different way?

I awoke to a text from a dear friend of mine. She has been a source of endless support, care and love during these years of both illness and recovery. She spoke about destination and used the analogy of building a stone path and how I’m looking far ahead to some distant point. In turn, the stones I’m laying down to build the path are being overlooked in my haste, in my desire to arrive at some terminus of sorts, one just out of my reach. The task is daunting, too. Building a path that stretches for miles and miles leaves me angry and thus depleted. I came to realize that the stone path I have been laying can barely be considered a path at all. It’s a twisting and winding mess leading here and there, running wildly in every direction, chasing every possibility, seeking out any and every venue in hopes that one thing, that any thing, will relieve me, nourish me, heal me…

I have been wondering about this notion of being lost, of being somewhere neither here nor there and struggling desperately to find the way — any way for that matter. How might it be if, by chance, I stopped desperately trying to find a way? Or, rather, the way, as it seems I’m after one in particular. What if I stopped giving a damn about the stone path all together? What if I stopped giving a damn about direction? If I just sat here, then what?  To me the construction of a path is a sign of strength and courage, forging boldly ahead in the face of it all. Even if I see the path as rambling madness running off in every-which-way, I still view it as such. What if I ceased the exhausting construction of this path? What if I just let it be? What if I just was?

Osho, an Indian spiritual guru and philosopher, said, “be — don’t try to become.” I have spent far too much becoming. Becoming healthy. Becoming happy after such turmoil. Becoming whole again. Becoming. Becoming. Becoming. All of these are there, so close, just out of reach — just there.

If I become this, then I’ll have that. What a very strange equation.

This is the opportunity, this is the tidbit of wisdom that has arrived. Perhaps it has come a few times and I simply wasn’t ready to be open to it, to receive it.

The warm smile from the older lady in Ireland was reassuring and comforting. Now, after so many years and countless experiences, I wonder if she was smiling because she knew I wasn’t lost then and that, in actuality, there is no such thing as being lost at all.

[quillquiver]

He’s only been walking for about a minute before something in the air changes. Frowning, Castiel Novak looks up from where he’s been watching his step to take a look at the copse of trees around him, shivering slightly against the wind. The rain has finally cleared to give way for sunset–gold light spilling across hill and rock. It’s beautiful in an ancient, abandoned sort of way… but something in the air has him alert and careful. 

This glen demands respect.

He pays special attention to his steps from then on, careful not to put his feet anywhere outside the marked paths. 

The more Castiel walks, the faster his heart beats and his body curls into itself, and suddenly, the nice Scottish man who picked him up on the side of the road and drove him to the fairie glen doesn’t seem so crazy.

“They’re there,” he’d said sagely, nodding up the road. “Ye canna see ‘em, but they are. And if they choose you, lad, well… ye best do whatever they want, because fairies are a fickle sort." 

Dunvegan, the faerie castle, is a big and imposing outcropping of rocks, and after seeing the old and new spirals on its other side, Cas carefully makes his way to the top. There are a couple of people making their way back down, and he nods to them as they pass. 

But to get to the top, he has to climb up a narrow passageway. He goes from thinking he can fit with his backpack, to being completely stuck.

When a couple of grunts and some shifting only manage to wedge him further, he gives up. 

"Fuck.”

And then a hand appears in his peripheral vision.

It’s pale, with calloused, freckled fingers and knuckles and a couple of braided leather bracelets adorning the wrist. Cas follows the equally freckled arm up to a white t-shirt and, quite frankly, beautiful face of a man.

He’s got brown hair and a perfect nose, with high cheekbones and a plush-looking mouth. The freckles that seem to cover the rest of him sweep across the bridge of his nose and apples of his cheeks in soft nebulae. Bright green eyes framed by long lashes look down at him expectedly, and Castiel is made aware of the fact that he’s been staring longer than socially acceptable.

“Uh…”

The man smiles.

Cas thanks the powers that be that he’s wedged between two rocks because he goes weak in the knees.

The man wriggles his fingers as if in invitation and Cas grabs hold, his own blue eyes widening when the man barely grunts and pulls his through. Though he gracefully steps back, Castiel ends up a pile on the ground. The man grins more widely and bites his lip. He's wearing a kilt.

Cas is a goner.

“Um–thank you. Thanks.” His face is on fire as he struggles to his feet.

The man merely nods and goes to sit on a nearby ledge, over-looking the sunset. 

Castiel takes this opportunity to explore. He walks to the edge of the castle and back, spending time just staring at the two spirals that are supposedly entrances to the faerie realm. The younger one is well-groomed and beautiful, with gifts dotting the stones laid out, while the older is overgrown and slowly disappearing in the grass. Cas stares at the latter and shivers. Still, he–noisily, despite the fact that he tries to keep quiet–takes his camera from his bag and snaps a picture. 

When he’s finished, he notices the man staring at him.

He’s even more beautiful backlit by the sun, and Cas takes a minute to get himself together before carefully approaching the other and pointing to the place beside him. “Can I sit?”

The man stares.

Brow furrowing, Castiel tilts his head to the side in thought before his eyes widen once more and his cheeks flush in further embarrassment. Immediately, he repeats his question, this time signing along as best he can remember from the one ASL class he took in college. 

The man raises a brow. “’M not deaf.”

Cas suddenly wishes the earth will open up and swallow him whole. His face turns bright red with both his mistake and the gorgeous way words roll off the man’s tongue, and he scrambles to untie his own in order to answer. “I am so sorry.”

“No trouble,” the man says. His green eyes look Castiel up and down in a way that makes his heart race. “Y'gonna come'n sit, or…?”

Cas has never moved so fast. 

He clumsily falls into the seat beside the man, apologizing again when he jostles him. 

“So, y’re a tourist?”

Castiel nods. “I’m from the States.”

“American.” The man whistles. “Y’re a mite far from home, arentcha?”

“I’m working in a hostel,” Cas explains. “In Kyleakin? It’s called the Skye Backpackers. I’m their new receptionist but I start next week, so I’m hitchhiking around the island to get a feel for it.”

“Seems like a good living,” the man nods. “I think I’d like to see America. All of it, not just the United States part.”

“Well, if you ever end up in Illinois, let me know.”

“Cheers.”

Cas licks his lips during the lull in conversation and clears his throat. “Are you from Skye? Or somewhere else in Scotland?" 

A sad, resigned sort of smile steals across the man’s face. "I’m from right here,” he eventually sighs.

“Oh, you live in one of the farm houses nearby?”

But instead of answering, the man flashes a smile and offers his hand. “I’m Dean.”

The change in topic is a little unorthodox, but Cas is too distracted by the fact that he has a name. Dean. It suits him.

“Castiel,” the other replies in kind. They shake hands, and Cas’s fingers tingle all the way up his arm and to his shoulder. “Everyone calls me Cas.”

“Cas,” Dean repeats. “Tha’s a good name.”

“Thanks. So’s Dean.” A beat. “You just came up here for the sunset?”

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. You?”

“A couple of people told me to come here because it’s so beautiful. A couple people also told me to stay away because of the faeries." 

“The faeries,” Dean hums. "Did ye hear the stories?”

“A couple. I heard about the bagpiper who was approached by the faerie king to play at one of his parties, but who was reluctant to leave his family especially because he’d promised to play at a friend’s wedding. But when faeries ask you for something you do it, so he went to the faerie realm and played until really late. When he asked to go home, the King allowed it but said things would never be the same once he went back. When he arrived back home, it was hundreds of years later and everyone he’d known and loved had died, because the King failed to tell him about the fact that a second in the faerie realm was a hundred years in his reality.”

“Mm,” Dean says, staring at the horizon. “Faeries can be tricky.”

“I also heard about the girl who came here a couple of years ago and when into the cave on the ridge.”

“There’s a nasty thing lives in there.”

“Yeah. Apparently, she got back to her hostel, went to bed, and woke up screaming in the middle of the night swearing something was trying to choke her.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

There’s another lull, and Cas bites his lip. He takes another picture just to do something with his hands, but quickly abandons the endeavour when Dean stares at him while he does it. Swallowing thickly, with sweating palms and a racing heart, Castiel decides to throw caution to the wind. After all, he’ll probably never come back to this part of Skye after this weekend. 

“So, um, do you have any plans for supper?”

Now, Dean’s smile widens to something slightly predatory. “Why?” he smirks. “Y'want'a share a meal?”

Cas blushes. “I have too many groceries and an empty airbnb so, yeah,” he says, sounding far more cocky than he feels. “I think I’d be willing to try my hand at Scottish hospitality.”

Dean laughs, and it’s probably the best sound Castiel has ever heard. “So I won’ have t'worry 'bout bein’ murdered, is that’ what y’re saying?”

A grin. “Murder is definitely off the table.”

“Then lead the way, Cas from America.”

***

It takes them fifteen minutes to get back to Cas’s cottage. Their otherwise forty-five minute walk is cut down almost to nothing due to a kind young woman picking them up and dropping them off at Castiel’s rented cottage. 

Once inside, Cas opens a couple of beers and hands one over, taking a swig himself and licking his lips. “Are you okay with pasta? I’ve got a bottle of white I should really use.”

Den’s excitement is so palpable the air almost crackles with it, and Castiel feels himself start to smile as well. The thing widens impossibly when the other man leans casually against the wall and clears his throat. “That seems—that’ll be fine.”

Castiel makes pasta carbonara.

He’s finishing off the sauce and about to put the spaghetti in to boil when he feels Dean off to his side. This isn’t new–for the majority of their time in the kitchen, the other man has been looking over Cas’s shoulder inquisitively. This time, however, Dean’s entire body is pressed up against his back and he’s got a grounding hand on Castiel’s hip. 

Cas almost burns himself. 

"Smells good,” Dean murmurs. 

Castiel squeaks.

“M’I makin’ ye nervous?” the other asks against his ear. Cas can feel him smiling and bites the inside of his cheek. There’s a beat. “Because if I am,” Dean continues. His thumbs begin to caress the t-shirt-covered skin of Castiel’s hips. “Ye need only tell me to stop.”

In answer, Castiel leans back into the touch.

***

“So, how’re ye likin’ Scotland?”

They’re seated on the back porch’s hanging swing, lantern lit on the coffee table directly in front of them. Empty plates and wine glasses are strewn across the table, with the finished wine bottle sitting as centrepiece among the carnage.

Cas looks lazily down to where Dean’s cuddled up against him. He smiles. “I love Scotland.”

“Oh, do ye?” Dean laughs.

“Mm. Very much.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, then, broken only by the sound of Dean licking his lips. Castiel isn’t entirely sure who initiates after that, but soon he and Dean are tangled up on the swing, kissing lazily.

It’s the best kiss Cas has ever had; warmer than anything else he’s ever felt, like a shot of whiskey warming him from the inside out. It only takes about another minute for Castiel to clue into the fact that the tingling he feels in the wake of Dean’s fingertips and lips is definitely not normal.

To the other’s protests—mm! one more wee kiss, please—Cas pulls away with a small ‘pop’ and stares, wide-eyed. “You’re… not human, are you?”

Dean shakes his head, much too pre-occupied with the sweetness of Castiel’s mouth to do anything but lean in again. Cas reciprocates, but only barely.

He’s kind of freaking out about the fact that he’s not freaking out.

“So, you’re a… faerie?”

This time Dean leans back with a small, hesitant nod. “The first of my name.”

“You’re a king,” Castiel says faintly.

“Close,” Dean amends. “A crown prince.”

Cas makes some sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat, climbing off of Dean and sitting, eyes locked on the wine bottle.

“Ehm, can I get ye somethin’?” Dean asks considerately. “Glass o’water, maybe? A pint? Some whiskey so all this seems like a bad dream?”

"Why were you out there, anyway?”

“Ah, y’know,” the other answers, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’m not so keen on the prince thing.”

This is something Castiel can relate to—after all, hating his circumstances is why he left Illinois in the first place. “So what,” Cas smiles. “You prowl around Dunvegan looking for unsuspecting tourists?”

“Hey now, if I remember correctly, you, sir, were the one who invited me here.” His voice turns guarded now. “And ye promised ye wouldn’t murder me.”

Cas weighs the pros and cons of his situation for approximately two seconds before leaning in and pressing a plush kiss to Dean’s mouth. “No one,” he says against the other’s lips. “Is getting murdered.”

Dean grins.

***

The next morning, Castiel walks Dean to the door of his cottage with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He has a crick in his neck from sleeping on the porch swing all night, but given the choice, he’d do it again.

“Can I see you again?” Dean asks. “Tonight?”

“I’d like that.”

***

And so begins the rumoured tale of romance between a human and a faerie.

[aaronpullinteeth]

Get To Know Me:

Found a list of questions online....I’m bored.....so here we go:

1. What’s your philosophy in life?

Don’t judge a person by the box they tick, judge them on if they’re an asshole or not.

2. What’s the one thing you would like to change about yourself?

My hairline.

3. Are you religious or spiritual?

Nope.

4. Do you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert?

More of an extrovert nowadays.

5. Which parent are you closer to and why?

My mom. Since I haven’t seen my dad in about 10 years.

6. What was the best phase in your life?

The middle point of my college life I’d say. End of first year and start of second year.

7. What was the worst phase in your life?

I was aged about 13 - 14 years old. I lost my grandfather and my dad and I had a huge fight and he kicked me out so I ended up losing half of my family, my half siblings and most of my life. 

8. Is what you’re doing now what you always wanted to do growing up?

No. I never saw myself doing this. Plus as a kid I wanted to be Spider-Man.

9. What makes you feel accomplished?

Seeing people smile.

10. What’s your favorite book/movie of all time and why did it speak to you so much?

The Crow. Something about the dark, gothic aesthetic and cool story, the music...just everything really. Watch it if you haven’t.

11. What is a relationship deal breaker for you?

Someone being intolerant (racist, sexist, homophobic etc)

12. Are you more into looks or brains?

A bit of both, but neither matter if the person is an asshole.

13. Would you ever take back someone who cheated?

I did once. It was a bad idea.

14. How do you feel about sharing your password with your partner?

On the one hand, I don’t mind it, since I don’t hide things, but on the other hand, you should trust your partner enough for them to have their own space, if you don’t trust them enough to have their own space like that, then the relationship isn’t gonna work. 

15. When do you think a person is ready for marriage?

.....when they say they’re ready? I don’t know. There isn’t one thing where you can say “That’s it, you have passed the Ready For Marriage” test.

16. What kind of parent do you think you will be?

Honestly, I have no idea. Hopefully a good one. I mean, I have the textbook template of what not to do in my dad.

17. What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner?

Already been there. Just accept it. Since my mom trusts me enough to, as she puts it “make your own stupid mistakes”

18. Who is that one person you can talk to about just anything?

An old friend of mine from school.

19. Do you usually stay friends with your exes?

I have done before. Depends on the ex and how it ended.

20. Have you ever lost someone close to you?

Yes I have. A fair few people.

21. If you are in a bad mood, do you prefer to be left alone or have someone to cheer you up?

Depends what’s happened, but usually I prefer to be left alone.

22. What’s an ideal weekend for you?

Staying in all weekend and gaming, eating shitty food and never having to get dressed.

23. What do you think of best friends of the opposite sex?

I think I’d say my best friend is the opposite sex.

24. Do you judge a book by its cover?

Everyone does. The important thing is being open to having that judgment changed once you get to know what’s on the inside.

25. Are you confrontational?

In a way, not in an aggressive manor.

26. When was the last time you broke someone’s heart?

I think about a year ago.

27. Would you relocate for love?

I’d consider it.

28. Did you ever write a journal?

No. But I write lyrics which are usually based on my mindset at the time so... kinda, I guess.

29. What are you most thankful for?

Punk rock and dogs.

30. Do you believe in second chances?

Sadly, I do.

31. What’s the one thing that people always misunderstand about you?

A lot of people think I’m gay. I don’t mind when people think I am. It’s not an insult. I’m not, however.

32. What is your idea of a perfect vacation?

A cottage in the countryside of Scotland

33. What did your past relationship teach you?

Don’t ever get with someone because you think it’ll be easier.

34. What are your thoughts on online dating or tinder?

It’s just a newer way of finding people. Just be careful with it.

35. What’s on your bucket list this year?

Well this year is almost over so I’m gonna count this for next year and say: Go to more concerts and get back in shape.

36. When have you felt your biggest adrenaline rush?

Playing live on stage.

37. What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done and would you do it again?

Depends on your definition of crazy, I guess. Some would say playing music on stage, some would say streaking on the street for a dare, some would say having to “sing” Monster Mash on stage for a play, when I cannot sing to save my life, some would say walking through the streets dressed as an old woman....take your pick. And yes, I’d do all of those again.

38. If a genie granted you 3 wishes right now, what would you wish for?

More money. The chance to play in a band again. For my mom’s cancer to be cured.

39. What’s your biggest regret in life?

Being too shy to take the risks in life I should have. I’m not that way anymore, but there are a fair few chances I missed in the past because of it.

40. What do you think about when you’re by yourself?

Usually pro-wrestling or punk rock.

41. Does your job make you happy?

When you really get to help someone, then yes.

42. What did you want to be when you were younger?

Spider-Man

43. Why did your last relationship end?

A number of reasons. But deep down, I didn’t love the girl.

45. What’s been your biggest mistake so far in life and what did you learn from it?

Letting someone back into my life after they treated me like shit. I learned not to let someone back into your life after they treated you like shit.

46. Where is your favorite place in the entire world to go?

Oddly specifically, there’s a pub at the very bottom of the massive hill in Robin Hood’s Bay that over looks the sea. Being in the beer garden of that pub, sitting on the wall, looking over the sea....it’s the most at peace I have ever felt whenever I’ve been there.

47. What are your top five favorite movies?

The Crow, The Dark Knight, 10 Things I Hate About You, Guardians Of The Galaxy, Toy Story 2.

48. What are some of your favorite songs?

Basically anything by The Wonder Years, Bowling For Soup or Blink182.

49. What qualities do you admire about your parents?

Nothing about my dad. The work ethic, optimism and open mindedness of my mother.

50. How would you describe your best friend?

Fucking awesome and my rock.

51. What’s your favorite hobby to do alone?

Writing.

52. What’s something you can’t go a day without doing?

Breathing...it’s important......ok, seriously, it’s cuddling with my dog.

53. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve done lately?

I’m not sure....it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to do anything truly spontaneous.

54. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?

Ran away.

55. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

Ignorance.

56. Why do you think you’re still single?

I don’t get out enough. And possibly my face.

57. What accomplishment are you most proud of?

My band’s album.

58. What is one dream you have yet to accomplish?

Get to have an actual wrestling match.

59. What is your greatest fear?

The Birdseye Stuffed Bear.

60. What are three things you value most about a person?

A sense of humor, open mindedness and the ability to talk about utter bullshit at all hours.

61. Who are five people you are closest with?

Currently I’d say there are only 3 and they know who they are.

62. What is the greatest struggle you’ve overcome?

Losing half of my family.

63. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?

Either in America (somewhere like New York) or in the middle of the Scottish countryside.

64. What’s the most exciting thing that’s happened this past year?

To me? Probably going to see NXT UK live.

65. What’s your favorite beer?

More of a whiskey drinker to be honest.

66. What’s one thing that bothers you most about the world today?

The political landscape.

67. Who are you closer with your mom or your dad?

Mom.

68. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I’m sure I answered this already, but my hairline. I miss having long hair.

69. If you could change one thing about the world what would it be?

The political landscape.

70. Who was your favorite teacher and why?

Mr Hope. He was my teacher in Maths when I was in year 9. He had the best sense of humor and somehow made it so Maths wasn’t the most boring thing in the world.

71. What sport did you fall in love with?

Pro-Wrestling

72. What is the weirdest thing about you?

Almost everything about me is a little weird. Maybe the fact that the bones in my wrist pop in and out of their sockets.

73. What was your longest relationship?

Not that long to be honest, 4 or 5 months.

74. What would your best friend say is your best quality?

She once told me my best quality is that I’m “quirky”

75. Who is your favorite historical figure?

If it counts, Kurt Cobain.

76. What made you choose the college you went to?

It was accessible and offered the courses I wanted? Isn’t that why everyone chooses a college?

77. If you could tell your former self one thing right now what would it be?

Take those chances.

78. What food could you not live without?

I think I could give up any item of food if I had to.

79. Dogs or Cats?

Dogs, but I love both.

80. What’s closest you’ve ever come to being arrested?

Not sure. 

81. What was your best birthday?

I’m not much of a birthday person so I don’t often do much. 

82. What’s one thing you wish you knew how to do?

Play guitar.

83. Where’s one place you’d like to go that you haven’t been?

America. (I know it’s huge, but I haven’t been anywhere in America so...)

84. What was the last book you read? And When?

Batman - Death Of The Family, about a week ago.

85. Where do you usually get your news?

The internet or at work.

86. What are some of your own personal goals in the next 5 years?

Get in shape. Move forward in my job. I don’t know. I don’t like looking too far ahead.

87. What would you consider your greatest accomplishment so far?

Again, pretty sure you’ve asked this. Recording an album with my band.

88. If you could get away with anything that you do?

I think the grammar failed here.... not sure. 

89. Who is your greatest hero?

My mother.

90. What’s the greatest risk you’ve ever taken?

Up rooting my life and moving miles away to start a new one.

91. Why are we here?

Our parents got busy and well.... 9 months later.

92. If heaven is real and you died tomorrow, would you get in?

Probably not.

93. Do you believe in fate?

No.

94. How do you think people see you?

With their eyes..... oh, you mean metaphorically? Likely as an idiot.

95. If you had the ability to erase something that you did in the past, what would it be?

Letting someone back in.

96. What song makes you unconditionally happy?

My dog.

97. If you could have anybody else’s life, who’s would you take?

I wouldn’t. What’s the point in wishing you were someone else? These are the cards you’re dealt, do the best you can with them.

98. What fictional character do you most relate to?

Jason Todd.

99. If I asked you at age 5 what you wanted to be when you grew up, what would you say?

You’ve asked this already....again. Spider-Man

100. What is your biggest irrational fear?

Again....you’ve asked this. The Birdseye Stuffed Bear.

101. If you could take us anywhere in the world right now, where would you take us?

Right now? At this exact moment? Where’s RAW being held tonight? 

102. What is your biggest regret?

I had a chance once to apply for a wrestling school and I didn’t take it.

103. If you died tomorrow, what would you wish you had done?

See the above.

104. Can you pin point the moment in your life where you were the happiest?

The first time I got to perform Dammit by Blink182 live on stage infront of an actual audience.

105. What song makes you unconditionally sad?

Elvis Presley - An American Trilogy. It was my granddad’s fav song and was played at his funeral.

106. If past lives are real, what was yours?

I’d like to think i’m brand new.

107. Have you ever seen something you can’t explain?

Pretty often.

108. What is your biggest accomplishment?

You’ve asked this 3 times.

109. If you could do one thing without suffering the consequences, what would you do?

Punch a certain someone in the face......with a brick.

110. What is the strangest dream you’ve ever had?

That I was a sentient tree and couldn’t move anywhere but I was able to make sarcastic comments at everyone who walked by.

111. What is the darkest thought you’ve ever had? What about the darkest thing you’ve never told anybody?

I once saw a baby crying on a bus and I thought to myself “I wonder how far the baby would go if I punted it” And I haven’t told people a lot of dark things I hear daily at work.

112. Is there something out there, a thought, an idea, a current event, or a fear that you find deeply unsettling?

The political landscape

113. What would you consider to be your deepest fear? (This question can be really telling of the depth or lack thereof of a person.)

You’ve asked this question so many times already!

114. Is there an activity that calms you? A place or a thing that makes you feel at ease?

Hugging my dog while watching wrestling.

115. What makes you feel uneasy? Overwhelmed? Anxious?

The political landscape....I mean, we’re on the verge of World War 3 here.

116. What is your favorite song and why?

Peaces - Sum41. It’s just..... too relatable. 

117. Do you have a favorite book? A line in a piece of literature? A poem? Why do you relate to it?

“ All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day.”  - Batman: The Killing Joke

It just speaks to me on how close you can be to breaking. You have to try and be the best person you can be, always.

118. What scene in a movie has evoked the most feelings out of you?

More a scene from a TV show, rather than a film, but...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GN5Yv8Hfk_o

Excuse the shitting quality.

119. What do you do or where do you go when you need to be alone?

I go home and stick headphones on.

120. What makes you feel like you need to be alone?

Usually after work.

121. Can you remember a time in your life you felt the most alive? Tell me everything about that memory.

Being on stage, playing a live performance with my band. It was just living a dream.

122. When have you felt the lowest in your life?

Likely about 3 years ago. I had just lost a job, my neighbors were bullying me to the point I was terrified of leaving my house and I had just let someone back into my life that decided to try and wreck it again.

123. Where have you felt the most failure? The most success?

See above for failure. Most success was when my band’s album got online and I could see that people where actually listening to it and like it.

124. Tell me about the facts or harsh truths you choose to ignore but know you shouldn’t.

That one person was extremely bad news.

125. When have you felt like you were living life to the fullest? When have you felt like you weren’t?

I think I’ve answered this already.

126. What is the first lie you ever told? Which is the biggest?

I can’t remember my first lie....I was likely about 3 years old. Biggest? I told someone I loved them when I didn’t.

127. What is the first secret you ever kept from anybody? Which is the biggest?

Not sure about first but biggest might have been that a girl cheated on her boyfriend with me multiple times.

128. Are you a religious or spiritual person? Tell me why and tell me how.

No I’m not and because it just doesn’t make sense to me.

129. Have you always had the same political beliefs? Is there something that impacted them?

Yeah, I have always felt the same.

130. Where do you find meaning in your life?

Writing, creating and friends

131. Have you ever been in love? Tell me about the times you have been.

Yes I have. Once. I’m not going to go into the details but let’s just say, she didn’t feel the same way and kinda just used me.

132. Tell me about the times someone broke your heart.

See above.

133. Why did you cry the last time you did so?

Last time I really really cried was when I found out my mom has cancer.

134. Have you ever cried tears of joy?

Once.

135. What did you do when you hurt someone the most?

Ended a relationship I wasn’t truly invested in and I didn’t feel even close to the same way, so I know it was the right thing to do but she didn’t see it that way.

136. If your life was a movie or a book what would be the title to it?

I’d like to think it would be named after one of my songs....maybe Swallow Me Whole

137. When have you caused the most harm to yourself?

Mentally or physically? Mentally, well, as I’ve already said, letting someone back in. Physically....I guess from drumming so much I’ve fucked my wrists

138. What has been the biggest change you ever made that made you the most proud of yourself?

Fighting against being so shy.

139. Think about the people you love the most in your life, what do you do for them?

I like to think I make them laugh and I’m always here when they need me. Just at the end of the phone. 

140. Is home for you a place or a feeling? Describe that place or describe that feeling.

I’d say it’s more a feeling of true comfort.

141. If you could be anywhere other than where you are right now, where would you be and what would you be looking at?

Right now? Where’s RAW being held tonight?

142. Have you ever questioned your sanity and why?

All the time. You should see the characters I create.

143. What is your most cherished childhood memory?

Sitting in the car with my mom for hours singing Bon Jovi.

144. Have you ever had dreams about a past life?

Not that I can remember.

145. Do you have any recurring dreams or nightmares?

Yeah, I have a couple.

146. Do you believe more in fate or that we are the creators of our own destinies because we are governed by free will?

Creators of our own destinies. I mean, sure, you can’t change the hand you’re dealt, but what you do with that hand is 100% down to you.

147. Do you believe in extraterrestrial life? Elaborate on why or why not.

I do. There’s just no way that we are alone in the universe. The fact that the universe is ever expanding and evolving, that shows that there must be life out there other than on our planet.

148. Would you find more comfort in the theoretical idea that that we were the most advanced species in outer space or would you find more comfort in the idea that we weren’t?

That we weren’t. Because if we are the mos advanced, the universe is fucked. I like to think we will always have something to learn.

149. What would be your thought process if you were presented with irrefutable evidence that a god didn’t exist? What would be your thought process if you were presented with irrefutable evidence that a god did exist?

Evidence that a God doesn’t exist - Well I’m right.

Evidence that a God does exist - Sweet. Where have you been all this time, asshole?

150. What do you think was there before the universe came into creation?

....Nothing....

151. Do you believe in other dimensions and parallel universes?

I’d like to. I love the concept that every decision you make branches off into another dimension where the opposite call was made. I find that fascinating. 

152. How do you define art?

Expression in the form of creation

153. If you could have the option of eradicating pain from your life would you choose to do so? Why or why not?

No, to quote Butters from South Park (of all characters) “ Well yeah, and I'm sad, but at the same time I'm really happy that something could make me feel that sad. It's like, it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. And the only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt somethin' really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good, so I guess what I'm feelin' is like a, beautiful sadness. I guess that sounds stupid.”

154. Is a life exclusive to pleasure (no suffering) worthwhile?

Nope.

155. What do you think happens after death, if anything?

Honestly, I think nothing happens. I think you just die....that’s it. End of. Game over. Roll credits. Blank screen.

156. If you could be given the date of your death would you want to know it?

No.

157. Presented with the opportunity to be immortal would you take it?

I can see ups and downs to it. I think I’d go for yes

158. Would you rather be loved or love?

Can’t choose both? If I had to pick, I’d rather love.

159. How do you define beauty?

Something so nice it makes you feel good in some way.

160. Where does happiness come from? Define what happiness means to you.

Feeling fulfilled by something.

161. Do you believe yourself to be truly free? If so, why? If not, what is holding you back?

In a way, yes. But the way society works, you’re not truly 100% free due to the need to earn money for food, shelter and comfort.

162. Deja-vu: is there anything to it or merely coincidence

Coincidence I’d say.

163. What was your father or mother like at home? How does he or she act different outside of family?

My mom acts a lot more relaxed at home. My dad was an asshole at home and tried to come across as a decent person in public.

164. If you were given a choice to choose your manner of death, how would you die?

In a blaze of glory.

165. Tell me a really, really stupid joke that made you laugh.

I JUST KICKED STAN!

166. Pick two out of physical chemistry, lifestyle compatibility, emotional compatibility and intellectual compatibility.

Emotional Compatibility & Lifestyle Compatibility 

167. If you were forced to vote for one the biggest dictators of history, (Hitler, Mussolini, Mugabe, Mao, Saddam or Stalin), which one would you pick and why?

How’s about none? How are they gonna force me?

168. Show me a music track or a scene from a film that made you tear up.

I already did this.

169. If you could have any animal in the world as a pet, what would it be and why?

Just more dogs.

170. If you were given a chance to explore the oceans, go to outer space or visit 50 different countries, which one you choose and why?

The countries, to see all the different cultures and ways of life.

171. Do you think that men are more rational and women are more emotional?

Nope. I think it doesn’t make a difference what gender you are. It’s who you are as a person.

172. Out of the negative emotions of greed, anger, jealousy and hate, which one would you say affects you the most?

Anger.

173. Out of the positive emotions of compassion, positivity, enthusiasm and initiative, which one is your biggest strength?

Compassion

174. If you could be President of your country for an hour, what is the one thing that you would change?

Brexit.

175. Describe your best first kiss.

Spontaneous, passionate and likely a mistake.

176. Has another’s pain ever given you joy? Be totally honest.

Yes.

177. Tell me your biggest strength outside of your workplace.

Creativity, I guess.

178. If you were given a choice to turn into a zombie or to die, which would you pick?

Die.

179. If you had to pick one, what is the most important value you would teach your children? Honesty, Kindness or Courage?

Kindness.

180. Are you health conscious?

Less so than I should be.

181. Name the one bad quality you wouldn’t mind in a partner.

Being untidy because so am I.

182. Name the one worst quality you cannot tolerate in a partner.

Intolerance.... ironically.

183. Tell me your biggest supernatural or paranormal fear?

Don’t think I have one.

184. If you got a free cheque for $5,000 right this second, how would you use it?

Pay some bills and likely go and take my mom out for a meal and then split the rest up between the closest people to me.

185. Name one really surprising thing that set your heart pumping and gave you an adrenaline rush.

Nothing really surprising has. Just the stuff you’d expect.

186. Tell me about the time you were so embarrassed in love, you wished you could disappear right there and then.

Anytime you confess to someone and they laugh at you.

187. Have you ever been unable to sleep? What do you do with your time then?

Fairly often. Usually game

188. Tell me about your biggest love regret that made you wish you could turn back time?

I don’t ever really wish to go back in time. 

189. Do you believe in materialism or spirituality?

I believe in them, I am, however, neither of them.

190. If you were forced to pick one religion on this planet, which one would it be and why?

In all honesty, I’d pick atheism. It would force people to actually live their life for themselves and their closest family & friends, not a being that may or may not exist. Also it would eliminate one of the biggest reasons for war throughout history.

191. What is the most romantic and loving thing you have ever done for somebody?

I’m not sure what other’s would say, but to be, I’ve wrote someone a song.

192. What is the most adventurous thing you have ever done in your life?

I’m not sure....I guess the fact I was someone’s art project once.

193. What’s your day-to-day mantra?

Be a good person;

194. What quote resonates with you more than any other?

There’s only ever going to be one you, don’t make that one you an asshole.

195. What’s your anti-motto?

Errrmmmm..... Everything is awesome?

196. What trait do you envy in others?

The ability to play guitar

197. What skill do you wish you had?

See above.

198. How do you wish to be remembered?

As a decent person....and kinda funny.

199. How would your best friend describe you in five words?

Quirky, funny, drumming, idiot....five.

200. How would you summarize your life purpose?

To make people happy, I guess.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Could you write something like if Jamie after going to france or in france joined the watch and joined Mcquarrie and his gang and then upon going to a house, like in the show they did with Lallybroch, and then meeting the owner of the house Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, and his young, widowed niece Claire and how would that play out.

The Black Watch:

Four days of hard riding through the Highlands with MacQuarrie and his men had Jamie squirming in his saddle. His arse ached and his legs were numb, the cold driving rain having soaked him on day one.

“Ye’ll like this, Jamie my boy,” Taran chortled, his gruff laughter echoing around the deep valley. “We’ve had word of two Englishmen living amongst us. I think it’s about time we paid them a wee visit.”

The way he spoke made Jamie’s wame churn, and he gripped the reins tightly between his fingers.

He’d known, of course, the moment that he’d signed up to be a part of the Black Watch that there might be loose morals, but so far he hadn’t had to rough anyone up. For that, at least, he was grateful.

He’d returned from Paris to find Scotland overrun with redcoat soldiers. It had disappointed his father to do it, but he’d found the only way he could quietly support his homeland was to patrol it with Taran and his brothers in arms.

Some of them weren’t the friendliest bunch, ragged and coarse in their language and their look, they often went about things in the wrong way. But Jamie felt as though he could change that.

Him and MacQuarrie got on well, they had a quaint sort of bond that made Jamie more likely to be the one giving advice than receiving it. Along the way he had managed to instill a manner of calm, which had been much to his benefit over the long rides through the highlands.

There were some things, though, that he just couldn’t rescue. Sassenachs were one of those things. Having borne witness to some of their more ruthless crimes, Jamie couldn’t say he blamed the men for their less than pleasant view on the English. But that didn’t mean he thought harm should come to those who simply wished to live peacefully.

--

The twee cottage sat in the very centre of the valley they had been traversing. As they saw the plumes of smoke rising through the low lying trees, Jamie began to wonder just how much of a coincidence this jaunt actually was.

He could already hear some of the men readying themselves for a fight, their churlish Gaelic turning his stomach sour.

“Just leave the talking to me, lad.” Taran whispered, running his hands through his bedraggled hair as he turned his horse towards the house, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the glowing fire in the windows.

Standing silently behind him, Jamie obeyed. At least for now, he thought, he would see where this was leading before attempting any sort of peace-making. Keeping his eyes locked on the small wooden door, Jamie prayed that this would be just that --peaceful.

A creek signalled that their presence had been noted, and the door opened to reveal an elderly gentleman wearing thin rimmed glasses and a smile.

“Hello gentleman,” he began, his broad English accent showing his status almost immediately.

Not good, Jamie thought, his food tapping anxiously against the damp ground. Not good at all. If it was money they were after, it seemed they had come to the right place.

“Can I help you with anything?” Glancing between them all, the sassenach’s eyes landed on Jamie as he did a thorough stock-take of the Scots stood on his stoop, “do you need food and water, something for the horses?”

“Nay, I dinna think we need any o’ that,” Taran broke in, his voice sounding pleasant enough to the untrained ear, “but I think there is something we can offer ye, aye?”

Scrunching his brow and scratching his forehead in a sort of shocked bemusement, the English gentleman stepped back, opening the door wider in the process.

“Oh, so you are salesmen then, something to trade, perhaps?”

“Trade? Ach, nay…” MacQuarrie snorted, turning his head to laugh with the others of the party.

Jamie didn’t laugh.

His face was set in stone, his eyes fixed solely on the man stood in front of him dressed in his sharp suit and fiddly bowtie.

“...but I do have something to say to ye and yer kin and I think you should listen carefully, ken?”

Jamie clenched his jaw tight, keeping himself quiet, waiting to see how it might play out before stepping in.

“Me and my brothers,” he began, his hidden veil of nicity dropped now and a chilling menace taking its place, “dinna want any *English scum* on our land. That includes you. Now, that being said, I am willing to be fair about it, if yer disposed to listen to my offer.”

Pulling his knife from the side of his boot, Taran dug the hilt of the blade into his palm, bringing blood to the surface as he glared threateningly at the Englishman.

“I don’t think I appreciate your tone, sir,” the sassenach replied, his cheeks flushing red at the intimidation being leveled at him.

“Uncle Lamb?!” A feminine voice called, her airy tone reverberating down the corridor and out of the door as she skipped down the small steps inside the cottage and then stood stock still at the bottom of them, catching a glimpse of the men crowded on her stoop.

“O-oh,” she whispered, seeing the knife, seeing the blood; the sight of it igniting a sort of dull panic inside her.

“And who do we have here?” One of the older members of the Watch crooned, a leery hint to his voice as he shoved Jamie out of the way to get closer to the lassie.

Closing the door ever so slightly, *Uncle Lamb* placed himself between the gap, cutting off the view of his niece as she hovered in the background, lingering at the bottom of the stairs with a worried look on her face.

“You’ve made your issue perfectly clear, gentlemen, Claire has nothing to do with this little conversation so you’d better forget any plans you have, because she is not part of them. Are we clear?”

All of a sudden he’d developed an extremely feral look behind his eyes. Gone was the meek English nobleman; in its place stood a fierce protector.

It was honourable of him, and Jamie instantly admired his strength. But he also kent well how Taran responded to such...gumption.

As expected, the rogue Scot reacted quickly, his dark intimidation intensifying at the old man’s sudden change of tack. He had a knife to his throat in almost no time at all, the door slamming open as the stramash escalated.

“Ifrinn…” Jamie cursed under his breath, throwing two other members of the watch to the ground in his haste to step in before anyone got hurt unnecessarily.

Grabbing Taran by the arm, he thrust his *brother* behind his back and held the pair apart, his arms outstretched between them.

“MacQuarrie,” he coaxed, his tone somewhere between pleading and calming, “if ye kill the man then I canna have what we came here for, aye?”

Narrowing his eyes at Jamie, Taran took hold of his clenched fist and dug his nails in.

Jamie didn’t budge, his nostrils flaring.

“Oh aye, what *we* came here for…” he returned, a warning floating amongst his words. ‘Tread carefully, brother,’ it said.

Straightening his tie, their poor victim stood upright once more, his fingers shaking with rage as he shuffled on the spot, whipping himself up into a murderous frenzy.

Looking behind him, Jamie held eye contact with Claire. Her wide whisky eyes were filled with tears at the sight of the uncalled for harassment pressed upon her uncle. He could tell she wanted to intervene, the look of steadfast stubbornness cementing itself in her sturdy gait.

Jamie shook his head once, his hair barely shifting as he discreetly gave her the signal to keep quiet.

Swallowing back the urge, Claire did as she was bid. Something told her to trust the man. His heavy-set shoulders, broad as they were, looked as if they could cause some damage had he needed to, but the gentle way in which he hurled her Uncle’s abuser from their tiny cottage made her feel instantly safe.

“I,” Jamie began, an unwavering self-assuredness to his words. Silence fell amongst the party as they glanced from one man to the other, all unsure as to where Jamie was going. “I want the girl, gi’ her to me, auld man,” he continued, his head bowing a little as he held Claire’s gaze, his own becoming even more intense, “promise her to me and we will leave ye be. That is the price that you must pay.”

Lamb, in a rare state, choked, his eyes widening in horror as he absorbed the words.

Just as he was about to curse the Scots, his mouth moving as the words formed, Claire jumped forward and put her hand on his arm, pulling him backwards with the force of her grip.

“Don’t fight them, Uncle. Please,” she begged, burying her face in his shoulder as she spoke, “I’ll do it. I’ll go with him, just don’t put yourself at risk.”

Sobbing, Lamb turned, taking Claire in his arms as he walked them back inside, deeper into the dark hallway --just out of sight.

Jamie held the men at bay, eager to keep them outside of the property at all costs.

“Yer a wee fiend, Jamie lad.” MacQuarrie praised, a sort of unkempt glee to his tone. “We’ll make a soldier of Alba of ye yet!”

Stepping back into the light, Claire stood in front of Jamie, her head held high, ready for battle. She showed no fear as she gulped in a large breath. “I have one condition, if we’re to be wed,” she began, stamping one foot against the floor as if to solidify her request.

“Alright,” Jamie appeased, sure that he would give her the sun and the stars if only he could figure out how to capture them from the inky black sky, “name it, lass.”

“I want to be married properly,” she returned, “in a church, in a dress...in front of a priest.”

Smirking, Taran punched Jamie in the arm as he winked at Lamb.

Ignoring the letchy jibes from his *comraids*, Jamie bowed towards Claire, sweeping his arm around his middle and rising once more. Tipping his head forwards, he took her hand and raised the back of it to his lips, keen to be kind to her, even under such dire circumstance as this.

Squeezing her fingers once, he let her go once more and smiled over at her, putting her at ease as best he could.

“As ye wish, my lass,” he replied, his tongue sweeping across his lips as he reached forward to push a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, “as ye wish.”