Archives for the Date February 20th, 2021

aspiritualwarrior:“Buddhism advises you not to implant feelings that you don’t really have or avoid…


“Buddhism advises you not to implant feelings that you don’t really have or avoid feelings that you do have. If you are miserable you are miserable; that is the reality, that is what is happening, so confront that. Look it square in the eye without flinching. When you are having a bad time, examine that experience, observe it mindfully, study the phenomenon and learn its mechanics. The way out of a trap is to study the trap itself, learn how it is built. You do this by taking the thing apart piece by piece. The trap can’t trap you if it has been taken to pieces. The result is freedom.”

— Henepola Gunaratana

Imagine the reverse situation than the one we witnessed in Voyager, where Claire casually walks on Jamie in his printshop. What if it was Jamie who travelled to the XX century and ended up as Claire’s patient in hospital?

Slamming the palms of her hands against the OR doors, Claire rushed into theatre. The call had come through on her pager only moments before, *luckily* she’d just been on her way out and hadn’t had to travel across the city.

“What is it, June?” She whispered to the head nurse as she plunged her hands under the tap, washing the unseen dirt from her fingers in preparation.

“RTA I think, Dr. Somewhere in the highlands though, poor chap’s being airlifted in.”

“Jesus, must be serious,” she mumbled, circling the soap in her hands as she washed away the suds.

Behind her the doors swung open once more, the sound of the heavy metal smacking against the wall reverberating through Claire’s feet and up into her bones as she turned to see her fellow surgeon, Dr Adams, stroll into the tiny clean-up room, his eyes darting around the small space.

“Ah!” He said, a little humour to his tone as he spotted Claire behind June, “there you are, Claire. It seems you’ve been requested.”

“I know,” she replied, placing her hands in the air as if to illustrate the point, “I got the page before I’d even left the building.”

Shaking his head, Dr Adams laughed, “then you’re doubly in demand,” he said, beckoning her forward as he backed out of the room, “because the fellow they’ve just brought in is asking for you too.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire brushed off the silly comment, her hands still hovering in midair. “Don’t be so daft, Dr. There are a million and one ‘Claire’s’, he could be asking for anyone!”

Winking, Dr Adams turned, tilting his head to the side so that Claire could only see his profile as the door began to close, shielding him partially from view, “aye, that maybe true, Claire, but there is only one ‘Claire Beauchamp’ around these parts, ken?”

Claire remained cemented to the spot, her mouth hanging open in confusion for a second after Dr Adams had disappeared from sight before rushing from the room and hurtling down the corridor to the ER admittance desk.

“Where did you tell June they were bringing that RTA in from?” She panted, her heart racing as she tried to calm her frayed nerves. After a short stint in Boston with Frank, it had been clear to Claire that their *epic reunion* wasn’t to last. Only a year after Brianna had been born, she had packed them both up and returned back home to Britain.

Unable to let go, they had moved into a small apartment in central Glasgow. Claire had juggled being a full time mother with her studies and eventually finished her medical training.

The staff nurse on the desk broke through her memories of the last seven years, her inquisitive tone pulling Claire from her reverie.

“Did ye hear me, Dr Beauchamp?” She whispered, seeing the far off look in Claire’s eyes as she waved her hands in front of her face.

“N-no, sorry Amy. Where?”

“Just outside Inverness, the report is sporadic,” she said, her eyes flickering from Claire back to the notes she had open on her messy desk, “says he wandered onto the road out of nowhere. The driver called it in and waited for the ambulance to arrive. Ye ken the highlands, Claire, quite barron at the best of times.”

Nodding, Claire wiped her brow and turned on her heel whispering a discrete ‘thank you’ as she rushed back towards the emergency at hand.

‘Stop it’, she screamed internally, her mind whizzing, all manner of optimistic thoughts rattling around her brain as she scuffed her work shoes against the worn linoleum, ‘who else knows you here…?”

“Maybe, just *maybe*…’ her inner voice begged, her positive side drowning out the negative one.

Stopping for just a second she scrunched her eyes together and shook her head, dispelling all thoughts as she tried to clear her mind of *anything*.

“Dr!” A male voice shouted from in front of her as she brought herself back to the present. “We need you, now!”

Scrubbing in once more, Claire forced herself to listen as the ambulance staff – who’d come in with patient– rattled off all known injuries, their hospital jargon coming to life in front of her eyes as she carefully thought through her process before entering the OR.

Fortunately the patient had been sedated on arrival, his vitals stabilised as much as possible as he was prepped for surgery.

“Are you ready, Claire?” Joe announced, his broad American accent sounding much softer than usual as the pair braced themselves for the job at hand.

RTA’s were uncomfortably unpredictable. Ignoring Dr Adams remarks, Claire began to prepare herself for any given situation.

“Ya never know, LJ,” Joe joked, trying his best to lighten the mood before seriousness set in, “could just be a bump on the backside. A quick once over and out again. Here’s to no internal bleeding!” He whispered in her ear as they opened the swing doors that led to the operating theatre.

The world seemed to stop before completely twisting on its axis as Claire stopped dead. A mop of red hair fell from the table, the curls tumbling over the slate black of the padded cot that supported his weight.

She knew from just the outline of his head; those sharp lines could only belong to one man.

As her vision blurred, Joe put his arms under hers, holding her against his chest as she lost consciousness for just a second.

“So…” he muttered, pulling Claire to one side as the supporting surgeon eyed Claire distastefully, “he *does* know you.”

“Jesus H– *Jamie*,” she spluttered, half believing it to be a dream as she reached her hand out to the unconscious Scotsman.

“Get her out of here! If she’s related, there’s no way she should be here…” Adams perked up, pointing towards the door with a knowing look on his face. “You’re alright to cover, Abernathy?” He continued, ignoring Claire completely as the monotonous beeping picked up pace.

“Of course, Dr.” Joe replied, turning Claire in the direction of the door. “I’ll make damn sure he’s alright, LJ, just go and collect yourself…please…” he begged in a subtle whisper, angling her towards the exit.

In a daze Claire snuck from the OR, her legs heavier than lead as she paused just outside the door, gulping in large amounts of fresh air as her head caught up with her body.

Jamie. It had been him. He was here.



Leaning forward, she placed her hands on her knees and continued to breath as if she was in labour.


The thought of birth brought the image of her daughter to the forefront. All of a sudden Joe’s words made perfect sense.

He’d seen the resemblance between her precocious eight year old and the man lying asleep on the table in front of them. He knew.

Walking backwards, Claire let her back hit the wall as she slid down the magnolia painted plasterboard, her arse hitting the floor with a thump as she pulled her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes.

Hours passed as she waited. Nobody seemed fazed that she was balled up on the floor outside the hospital’s main operating theatre, and for that she was grateful. In the madness her mind had gone totally blank, unable now to conjure even the most basic of assumptions for Jamie’s surprise arrival.

On that fateful day all those years ago he definitely hadn’t been able to travel. She’d watched as he’d placed his hands upon the stone, the look of assuredness covering his face as he’d bid her return to safety. He hadn’t heard the buzzing, hadn’t felt even the slightest bit of the power.

“Claire…LJ?” Joe questioned, his face coming closer to hers as he plucked her from the floor and escorted her to the viewing window.

“I thought her was dead,” she whispered shakily, her voice cracking as she spoke.

“He wasn’t,” Joe replied, certainty lacing his tone, “he *isn’t*.”

“He’s alright?” She sighed, tears welling in her eyes as she placed her hand on the two way glass, the transparent surface frosting with her breath as she leaned her head against the cool window.

“Yes, he’ll be fine. It seems the car just clipped him, most injuries were contained to his right hand side. It saved him really, had he been facing, he might have sustained far more serious wounds.”

“Can I see him?” She questioned, her eyes looking over the blood-stained table where he’d been lain only moments before.

“One thing, LJ,” Joe asked, curiosity gnawing at him, “does she know?”

Shaking her head, Claire let the tears fall as she pictured Bree at home with the babysitter, her soft curls bouncing as she read aloud. “No. She knows Frank wasn’t…but she doesn’t know who.”

Leading her away, Joe’s lips twitched into a small smile as he pointed her in the direction of Jamie’s recovery room. “Well, I guess she will now.”

Taking a deep breath, Claire took a timid step forward, her pulse pounding in her ears as she stepped slowly towards the open door. Placing her fingers on the tepid wood of the doorframe, she placed her foot over the threshold, her eyes wide as she caught a glimpse of Jamie, wrapped up tight in the hospital’s military grade bedlinens.

Creeping over, she moved a stray curl from his forehead. He shifted, his eyes closed as he dozed.

Claire waited, her lips quivering as she did a quick inventory of the man she never thought she’d see again.

Watching, she let her fingers linger, running the pads of them over his pale, clammy skin as she re-memorised every curve. Gasping, she drew back a little as his mouth twitched into a smile, the corners of his lips pulling upwards with her touch –just like he had done all those years ago.

“I must be dead, sassenach,” he croaked, his voice startling her as she stilled her movements and stood as still as she was able, her eyes focused solely on him, “if yer here wi’ me…” pausing, Jamie shifted his head closed to Claire’s hand, silently begging her to continue her blissful ministrations.

Claire held her free hand over her heart as she felt for its telltale beat beneath her ribcage.

“…but I dinna care too much.” He finished, seeming at peace now he’d made his assumptions clear.

“Jamie,” Claire replied, her voice sounding strange to her own ears, “you’re not dead. You’re alive, here, with me in Glasgow.” Swallowing, she tickled her fingers against his warm cheek, grinning through the tears as his skin flushed red. “Oh God, Jamie. You’re alive!”

Choking on thin air, Jamie clenched his fists into the bed sheets and opened his eyes, the aqua of his irises causing Claire to lose all train of thought as they locked onto her whisky ones.

“Dhia!” He breathed, his voice light and airy with shock, “w-what’s the year, Claire?” He asked, the strain clear as he spoke, worried that he might awake at any moment and that she might disappear from his view.

Rolling her shoulders, Claire shimmied closer to Jamie, sliding her hand along his cheek, down the column of his neck and down further until she reached his hand. Holding on tight, she bent down, kissed him lightly on the forehead – her tears falling onto his flushed skin and dripping into his hair as she tried to reign in her fraught emotions – and took in one long breath.

“1955,” she said, her voice steady now as she rubbed his frigid fingers until she could feel the life flow back into them, “It’s April 1955, Jamie Fraser…and you are alive.”

stewartandclarke:requested by Anon: SAM HEUGHAN as Tom…


requested by Anon: SAM HEUGHAN as Tom Buckingham in SAS: RED NOTICE(2021)

everythingfox: “Ok little human, we can be friends.”(via)


“Ok little human, we can be friends.”


jade-doodles-questionmark:i-am-the-broken-bride:overlord-puffin:bob-belcher:Reverse socks my hand…

jade-doodles-questionmark:i-am-the-broken-bride:overlord-puffin:bob-belcher:Reverse socks
my hand slipped :)OK I know none of you followed me for this but please just let me have this one

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