Archives for the Date December 20th, 2018


Loss Ficlet: October 20, 2018 (Part Two)


This is part two of a request that @kalendraashtar​ made a long, long while back.  Today is her birthday.  And I would be remiss if I didn’t say that she is a constant inspiration to me.  She is a sorceress with words and one of the most talented authors in this fandom.  She is also a god damn good person who I’ve come to love quite dearly as a friend.  So everyone wish her a happy birthday.  She’s a gift. 💜

* I won’t tell you what Kale’s request was because it will ruin the last few moments of this fic that I quite like. 

Also, my thanks to @kkruml for fixing my messes.

Part One of this two-part ficlet is located here.  This is post-wedding and pre-Act II.  THIS PART IS NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

October 20, 2018, Part Two
Loss (Modern AU)

Heavy sleep has always been a rare treat for me.  

The kind of sleep where you wake with your body perfectly situated.  The flawless gymnastics of a form making choice after subconscious choice in slumber that resulted in weightlessness. To turn against the mattress like this. To curl against the pillows like that.  To situate the blanket under a cheek just so.  

And that was precisely the state from which Jamie woke me.

If I had been able to force my body into action, I would have wrapped my fingers around his thick throat and killed him where he stood.

Through an archaeological excavation of layers upon layers of bedding, his hands unearthed my hips.  Gripping, turning, pulling just slightly. He hovered over the site of his dig and only the duvet and his clothes separated him from what he was searching for. “Are you ready to get up?” His hold on me was firm, but his tone contained no hint of a lascivious intent.  

He really did just want me to wake up.

I groaned a little as I ran through a tally of my current state.

One.  My back felt as though it were on fire from standing through the surgery.  

Two.  The muscles of my fingers (small ones of which I took no heed most of the time) were rioting from the delicate work of surgery.  They almost cramped at the thought of wrapping around so much as a glass of water.

Three.  The arches of my feet protested at the thought of bearing any weight.  

Four.  My head was the only notable (and surprising) exception from the list of things that ached. (No hangover. A victory.)  And good lord was I ever tired.

With my face pressed into a thin line of tacky drool along my forearm, I grunted, “Leave me be, you bloody Scot.”

Keep reading

nolifesinceoutlander: massivelycasualtyrant: dianagabaldonthegoddess: Who else wishes this…




Who else wishes this really was baby Faith or Bree? If only we can go back in time.

Hell, if they can change the book story, why not have Jamie and Claire parents again.

Jamie can be surprised when Claire finds out that at 50 she’s pregnant and both Jamie and Bree help her delivery the baby boy they name Robert after the baby brother who died with his mother in childbirth. So that would make the circle-complete.


emmbutt: popoppy: “Wrong Century” by Tomas Kucerovsky the look…



“Wrong Century” by Tomas Kucerovsky

the look of wistfulness on her face just punches me straight in the heart

this is literally my favorite piece that ever comes up on tumblr and if you want me to change my mind well then goOD LUCK WITH THAT

truth coming out of her well to shame mankind (tumblr safe version)




This is it… this is the height of what memes and memetic culture can do and the purpose they can serve, and why it’s so important to have this freedom of expression and exchange. Protest, reference, the instant connection of ideas, heavy weighted messages conveyed by the simplest of means. This image speaks volumes about the state of internet politics right now, and it does so by omitting the most important and recognizable part of itself.

Also, look at the quality here and the effort the artist put into making Truth’s erasure so disturbingly seamless. 

romyschneiderism: (x)



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