Anonymous asked:
Prompt: Truly, madly, deeply.
Anonymous asked:
Outlander: If you could change just one thing, what would it be?
that the story will eventually come to an end
Anonymous asked:
Help! I’ve lost a story. I can’t remember the name of the fic or who wrote it but I’m fairly certain it was for Imagine. Someone wrote a story about Jamie at Hogmanay. Joanie made an innocent comment that made Jamie realise that Laoghaire hadn’t changed. Joanie say something along the lines of finally seeing her ma. About the witches spell being broken. Jamie said it wasn’t a spell but true love. Or something like that. Hope you can help.
You remember right, Nonnie.
The one-shot "Stronger Than Magic" was written by Mod Lenny.
Enjoy!
~ The Mods
Anonymous asked:
Prompt: Scream.
Hi anon - this Modern Glasgow AU ficlet should fit the bill!
Enjoy!
Love
The Mod-sketeers
Anonymous asked:
Love token.
Hi anon - check out this story by Mod Lenny, from our archives.
Enjoy!
Love
The Modz
Anonymous asked:
Prompt: Trapped.
Hi anon - check out this story by Mod Gotham from our archives. It takes place within episode 05x06 at Jocasta’s wedding, and shows how several characters feel trapped by the choices that they’ve made...
Enjoy!
Love
The Modz
Anonymous asked:
Prompt: Hot tub
Hi anon - Check out this beautiful ficlet from Flood My Mornings!
Love,
The Modz
imagineclaireandjamie reblogged
Anonymous asked:
A mother’s love knows no bounds.
Wishing a beautiful and very happy Mother’s Day to you and yours!
Love,
The Mods
–
Mod Lenny - Claire tells a bedtime story to wee Brianna
Mod MBD - this chapter from the Voyeurs AU
Mod Bonnie - Flood My Mornings - Ian (III)
Anonymous asked:
Scream!
--
For all the time that Claire Fraser had spent at Lallybroch over the years, the silence of early mornings still surprised her.
Newly settled as they were at the house - the bairns were adjusting well, enjoying unpacking their boxes and finding new homes for their favorite books and toys and spending much more time with their Murray cousins - and glad as she was that they’d made the change from the hustle and bustle of Glasgow and their lovely but cramped flat...Lallybroch mornings were so bloody quiet.
She hadn’t been sleeping well lately - and in the half-light of silent dawn, she absently rubbed her belly and the ever-growing swell of Bairn Five. Jamie (and Fergus) had been watching her like a hawk, stubbornly not letting her lift anything heavy, pushing her to sit on a stool and supervise both the packing and unpacking of all their things.
It didn’t matter that she wasn’t fragile. It didn’t matter that she could pick up a book or a vase or fold Brianna’s jumpers in a box.
They worried for her. And she loved them all the more for it.
Downstairs the house was still asleep. They had chosen the large guest room on the second floor as their bedroom - William and Fergus were thrilled to share Jamie’s boyhood bedroom on the third floor (though Fergus, at seventeen, would be leaving for university before they knew it and William would have the room to himself), Bree and Faith had settled into their own room on the fourth floor, next door to their cousins Maggie and Kitty. It was still a bit unsettling to be so far apart from the bairns - accustomed as they were to sleeping off of one long hallway in their Glasgow flat - though the privacy did have its appeal...
Claire stretched, and rolled on her side to face her sleeping husband. Gently she touched the furrow between his brows - he was still bearing so much stress, even though he’d relinquished much of his responsibilities at the printshop in order to move here full-time. For the dear man worried about her, and Bairn Five, and her health, and how well the other four bairns would adjust to their new life, and whether Fergus would be accepted to his uni of choice, and how he could integrate himself into the day-to-day running of the farm without stepping on Ian and Jenny’s toes...
...today was his birthday. Today, of all days, he deserved to relax.
Slowly, Claire traced kisses on Jamie’s face. His forehead, the bridge of his nose, his fluttering eyelids...
...when she reached his lips, he kissed her back. Slow. Deep.
His hand rucked up her sleep shirt, settling on her bare hip, thumb tracing the skin stretched for Bairn Five.
“Are ye well?” he breathed against her lips.
She smiled. “Very well.”
His hand darted lower, cupping her. “Mmpmm. I can tell.”
She gasped, and he swallowed it.
“Do you have any idea what you mean to me, Claire?” he whispered. “Do you?”
She quivered. Shakily raised one hand between them, and dug her fingers into the thick hair at the base of his neck.
He pressed a bit harder. Bit her parted lips.
“Yes.” Her eyes closed, the words almost a struggle to form on her lips. He nuzzled her neck, licking, sucking, biting. Humming in contentment against her racing pulse.
“And do you...have any idea...what you mean to me, Jamie?”
Her eyes snapped open, and she pulled his head up so that she could see him. Face flushed, mouth parted, breath heaving. “Do you, my love?”
“I hope to prove it to you every day, Claire.” His eyes suddenly serious, pupils dilated in the growing dawn.
With every ounce of her will she reached between them to push away his hand. Threw back the quilt. Crossed her arms and pulled off her shirt. Her skin prickled in the cool air.
“Bolt the door,” she instructed.
He sprang up, licking his hand as he crossed the room, turned the lock, and pushed down his boxers almost in one fluid motion.
She pushed his pillow to the center of their mattress. He lay on his back, looking up at her. Smoldering with love and want and deep, deep joy.
She settled on top of him, and his hands rose to cup her belly.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered. Then slowly, slowly bent down to kiss him. “And stay quiet.”
Anonymous asked:
How about Soulmate AU / Soulmate-Identifying Marks AU? Has this been made? Thanks!
Paging our dear friends over at @thelallybrochlibrary for this one!
Anonymous asked:
Devil Woman [Song, Cliff Richard]
set shortly before the end of Book 1
Slowly Jamie sipped his spoonful of soup. I sat beside him, warm in the afternoon sun streaming through the window of our room. Watching. Joyous.
“This tastes better than yesterday’s,” he remarked, stirring the mixture of broth and barley and beef.
“It’s the same as yesterday’s,” I replied softly. “Brother Anselm told me as much, when I fetched it for you in the kitchen. It just means that you’re aware of it more. Enjoying it more.”
He swallowed another mouthful. “It’s no wonder - since you bewitched me wi’ that lavender and dirk and opium and God knows what else.”
I knew it had been risky, even foolish - but I couldn’t regret what I’d done. Because the result was right in front of me, the sun creating a fiery halo in his hair, his free hand clasped gently in mine.
“It was laudanum,” I chided softly. “And I’m not a witch. I told you as much, after Cranesmuir.”
He set down his spoon - the bowl empty - and tilted his head, looking at me thoughtfully. “Magic potions. Magic stones. From a time wi’ metal birds in the sky and pictures that talk and move. I dinna ken what ye are, Sassenach.”
“I’m yours,” I said softly.
He grinned. How my heart leapt to see it.
“Ye are. And I thank God every day for it.”
Anonymous asked:
Over my dead body.
(set shortly after this story, in the aftermath of 05x12 “Never My Love”)
Fitful sleep would be a generous way to describe how they had passed the night - coiled tightly around each other, sharing breath, sheltered from the storms outside and within.
Safe.
Jamie peppered her face with tiny, breathless kisses.
“Today - you and me,” he breathed into her ear - knee between her thighs, arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders, an anchor in the dark. “Wi’ the door locked and the window open.”
His voice - his touch - electrified her. Hairs on her arms stood on end, breath shallowed, ankles curled around his. “Yes.” Her lips formed the word, but she didn’t bother using her voice. For he knew.
He shifted then, careful of the sticky salve he’d rubbed into the wounds on her breasts, thumb stroking her shoulder. “Do you remember...”
She turned her face, butting the end of her nose against his. “Paris,” she whispered. Felt his pulse quicken.
“The day we spent, like this.” He dug his thumbnail into the bone of her hip. “After your ordeal.”
Sumptuous drapes, and gilded plaster on the walls, and a bedroom the size of the Big House. Food left on trays outside the enormous doors.
“You know I do.” She kissed the cleft in his chin, rasping her cheeks against his stubble. “You always know how to care for me.”
He pulled back a bit, suddenly serious. “I vowed to care for you and protect you when we wed, Claire.”
Faintly against the starlight pouring through their open window, she could just see the outline of his shoulders - always burdened with so many worries - and the wild tangle of his hair. She sat up, reached to cup his cheek.
“I know, Jamie. You do. You don’t need to tell me. I know.”
“Until the last breath in my body.”
He was coiled tight - with exhaustion, with rage, with fear.
“I’m very glad of it, Jamie. I am.”
Still he seemed unsettled. So gently she pushed him onto his back, there on their mattress. Rose above him, guided by touch. Brought their bodies together. Leaned down to kiss him. Showing him - as he had shown her - what both their hearts knew to be true.
--
Dawn.
Jamie had placed the bench from her mirror in front of the windowsill, so that she could lean her elbows against it, and watch the sun rise, and smell the rain that had fallen in the night.
It was still early - nobody was out in the dooryard yet, though before too long Missus Bug and Lizzie would make their way to the barn, swinging empty pails for the day’s milk and eggs.
The breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders, and carried the scent of pines to Jamie, sprawled naked in the bed.
He was still, but clearly awake - and he watched her turn around to face him.
“What are you thinking about?”
He stretched and yawned. “Fergus had asked for my help wi’ the roof of his cabin. There’s a leak to fix. I’d send Roger Mac, but - ”
“But what? Send him.”
He pursed his lips, scratching his belly absently. “I suppose. He needs to learn sometime.”
“Dare I say - I think it would be easier for him to learn without you being there to teach him.”
His brow furrowed. “Are you saying that I’m intimidating, Sassenach?”
She smiled, and his heart soared to see it. “Perhaps. Sometimes.”
He opened his arms to her, and she raced into them, dropping Jamie’s plaid from her shoulders to the floor. They held each other, breathing, listening to the birds greet the new day.
“Never wi’ you, I hope?” he whispered.
She kissed the side of his neck. “You protect me - and your family - by all means necessary. I love you all the more for it.”
He sighed.
Somewhere downstairs, a door slammed shut.
She pulled the quilt up and over their heads.
Anonymous asked:
Lady in red.
Hi anon,
The red dress - or something like it - actually makes an appearance in Mod Gotham’s Modern Glasgow AU. Enjoy!
Love,
The Mods
imagineclaireandjamie reblogged
Hello librarians! I’m looking for a fic in which Claire was raised by Jamie’s parents. Does that ring a bell? Thank you!
Hi there @beckyrdh,
There’s a few fics that could be what you’re looking for.
- Chain of Command by Mod MBD on @imagineclaireandjamie - Claire is a servant in the Fraser’s home, but Brian and Ellen do take a hand in raising her.
- Forget Me Not by melodyheart - Modern AU where Claire was raised by Brian and Ellen.
- Guardian Scotsman by @writtenthroughtime - Not exactly what you described, but along the same vein; Claire comes through the stones as a child and is found and taken in by Murtagh.
- To Love You Always by @lallybrochloser - Jamie and Claire are born six months apart, and Claire eventually is taken in by the Fraser family after the death of her parents.
If these aren’t quite what you were looking for, please feel free to send us another ask!
Happy Reading!
Thanks for the shout-outs, lovely Librarians!!
Anonymous asked:
Like father, like daughter.
Alone Together: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 || Chapter 19
Claire crossed her legs on the couch in the living room, mindlessly leafing through a magazine. Watching - and listening - as her husband and daughter played on the carpet, Jamie sprawled on his elbows to be at eye level with Bree.
“Doh!” Brianna exclaimed, handing Jamie a square wooden block.
“Thanks,” he said sincerely, and piled it on top of the four other blocks she had already given him. “What’s next?”
Brianna’s tiny fingers grabbed for her rubber giraffe - a favorite, especially now that she was teething - and handed it over to Jamie.
“Hmm. Are we building a house for Giraffe?”
Already Brianna had grasped the next object - a board book of Goodnight Moon - and handed it to her father.
“Is this for us to read to Giraffe?”
He opened the book and began reading.
“In the great green room, there was a telephone.”
Bree scooted closer to Jamie, now clutching her favorite toy bunny, eyes intent on the book.
“And a red balloon. And a picture of - the cow jumping over the moon.”
She leaned against Jamie’s shoulder, spellbound.
Quietly Claire pulled out her phone to take a quick snapshot of the two red heads together.
“ And there were three little bears sitting on chairs. And two little kittens, and a pair of mittens.”
A siren floated through the open window, along with the September breeze.
Claire wished that time could stop.
“And a little toy house, and a young mouse. And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush.”
Jamie wrapped a strong, steady arm around his daughter’s back. Holding her close. His greatest gift.
Claire set down her magazine, and joined the two of them on the rug.
“And a quiet old lady who was whispering “hush”,” Jamie and Claire read in unison. Watching their daughter’s eyes slowly drift closed.
imagineclaireandjamie reblogged
What if Jenny realized (just before Jamie´s wedding with L) that she wouldn´t do that when Ian was dead. As much she can´t imagine herself to be wed to anyone else than Ian, she couldnnt do that to Jamie either. He is alone and sad, but he will not be happy in this situation.
“How’s the bridegroom?” Jenny asked as Ian came to bed. “Does he have nerves?” She chuckled. It had been a while since they’d had much worth celebrating at Lallybroch—well, since they’d had much worth celebrating and Jamie home to celebrate with. Hogmanay didn’t count. He’d been there but it had taken half the night before he showed much liveliness at all. But it had been the beginning of him coming back—truly coming back. And the morning would be another fresh start for him and for that MacKimmie widow and her two lasses.
“He didna say anything of the wedding tomorrow,” Ian informed Jenny with a somber tone that had Jenny sitting back up in bed beside him.
“He didna say anything about it? No even a thought for his bride?”
Ian shook his head, his lips pressed together and brow furrowed in thought.
“Perhaps tha’s just how he faces such things,” Ian tried to reason. “It’s no like we were there to see what state he was in when he wed Claire. Might be he was tight-lipped about it all then too.”
Jenny’s excitement ebbed at the thought, the memory of her lost sister-in-law. They hadn’t even had word from Jamie in years when he’d shown up out of the blue and with a sassenach wife. Not having had the opportunity to be there had been just one more thorn she caught on when thinking about those years after their father’s death and before Jamie’s return. When she was being fair, she reasoned that he hadn’t been present for her wedding either, that it wasn’t as important as supporting each other’s choice of spouse and the family they were when they were together.
“After all,” Ian continued in his own reverie, slipping to lie down beneath the blankets already warmed by her presence. “We ken he and Claire didna choose one another when they wed, and see how that turned out. I suppose it may turn that way again wi’ him and the widow MacKimmie… in time.”
“Ye say that like he doesna have a choice now,” Jenny snapped.
Ian barely succeeded in suppressing his laugh. “I wouldna say ye schemed like yer uncle Dougal did when he wed Claire,” Ian said slowly and carefully, “but I think we both ken he wouldna be marrying tomorrow did he no have some help in the match from you.”
“Are ye sayin’ ye think I did wrong? Do ye no think he ought to be happy and wi’ a family of his own? He’s been on his own for so long now. It’s time he had another wife to care for and he’s taken to the lasses well enough,” Jenny responded defensively.
Ian sighed and rolled toward her. “Aye, he’s been on his own for a long while, mournin’ Claire and what they might’ve had,” Ian agreed. “But… who’s to say if it’s been time enough for him? I want for him to be happy too… But it’s no about what we want for him, aye? Should it no be what he wants for himself that matters?”
“What he wants,” Jenny said quietly, her pique ebbing away into her own familiar sorrow, “is Claire back. But that isna possible.”
Anonymous asked:
Hello! Do you know if there are fanfics where Claire was not married before traveling in time? I haven't found any fic exploring this idea and I find it truly interesting 🤔
Paging our friends at @thelallybrochlibrary for this one!