Oh my god! Rik released another song!! And it’s beautiful!! He really is A Smeòraich <3

M O O D B O A R D | ROGER MACKENZIE WAKEFIELD 1960s

Autumn at Hogwarts (aka University of Glasgow because my uni is actually Hogwarts)

I shut my eyes again…and deliberately summoned the image of the estate of Broch Tuarach—Lallybroch, to the people who lived there. A beautiful Highland farm, with woods and streams; even a bit of fertile ground—rare for the Highlands. A lovely, peaceful place, sealed within high hills above a mountain pass that kept it remote from the recurrent strife that troubled the Highlands.  

Pick Me! | Chapter 2

Chapter 1

My mind slow and groggy with sleep gradually turned into the pounding ache of a wine hangover. I gripped the side of the attached upholstered sofa cushion as my stomach lurched and churned with a sudden sickening feeling as consciousness slowly came back to me. I was laying half on, half off the living room sofa still in my disgusting scrubs and an empty bottle of wine wedged between my back and the cushions.

My phone dinged at the same time my iPad lit up with notifications.

“What?” I questioned aloud my eyes going cross with the brightness of the screen before the sinking dread filled me with ice and sudden flashing memory of the night before. “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!”

I didn’t look at the numerous notification bubbles until I opened the home screen, where an obnoxious red oval told me I had 103 messages.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ,” I whispered again in astonishment. “Why so many?”

With trepidation, I clicked on the message icon and scrolled through to see just how many people made up the 103 messages. My eyes widened in shock, “FIFTY!”

My hand shook as I clicked on the first message…and then nearly launched the iPad across the room to get the offending thing away from me. The fear of breaking the screen was the only rational thought keeping me from tossing it as yet another grotesque message and an even worse image was in the following five! After the tenth message with nothing but disgusting, thoughtless images and slurs inside I responded.

I copy and pasted the message and continued to send it to each and every dick pic sent to me, which was an alarming twenty people out of the fifty that sent messages overnight.

Finally, after the multitude of disgusting messages, several vulgar and suggestive message–one of which said “What’s long and hard and full of Seamen?”, there was one person I vaguely remembered sending a message to last night that seemed to have responded.

My brow furrowed in confusion. “What the fuck did I even say to him?”

I reread his message then anxiously scrolled up to see what prompted his unusual first sentence.

“Oh dear God.” I groaned in horror as ice filled my veins. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.” I closed my eyes but the drunken words were burned into the backs of my eyelids.

“At least I spelled my name right,” I grumbled and flopped face first onto the leather of the couch. With half of my face still pressed into the couch, I messaged the very kind Army Doc back.

I moved my head back towards the cushion where the stench of the hospital and stale wine mingled with the rich leather. I let out a huff and pushed myself up from the couch, a shower was definitely in order.

The pounding water and fresh steam of the shower helped clear the fog from my head and bring my body back to a semblance of normalcy. In the hour and half, I had spent under the water, two new messages had arrived from the dating site. Still wrapped in a towel, I thumbed through them.

My heart picked up a beat and I felt my face flush in excitement as an uncontrollable smile lit up my face.

I stopped and looked at my wardrobe, debating the possible combinations and hating every single option.

“Get a grip, Beauchamp! It’s only coffee!” I said confidently before blindly reaching for a hanger.

The second message was from one of the original men who I matched with and apparently hadn’t made a fool of myself with.

I failed to read the rest of his, what I’m sure was a well thought out message, and snooped on his profile. In the picture, he had on a garish red jumper with giant blue balls knit into it. Did he think this was endearing? I tried to ignore the jumper and focus on his face but found my eyes kept creeping back down to the ridiculous article of clothing.

“Oh, well now why did you have to go and say something cute Mr. Fraser?” I huffed in mock exasperation scrolling back up to focus on his face. A strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, with a long straight nose let to piercing blue, smiling eyes. Eyes that seemed to smile and be illuminated from behind, made my heart skip a beat and butterflies to flutter in my gut. A tumbling mass of red curls framed his face and the lone stray curl that curved towards his left eye made him even more enticing. I wanted to know this man.

I gazed at his likeness for longer than what would be deemed appropriate, lost in his smile that lit up his entire face, like that moment in time he could not be any happier. “Now I have to go back and read your message, you’re too adorable not to.”

I caught myself laughing at his choice and use of words. I feel much the same. Here I sat, 32 barely making enough time to sleep from insane work schedules, failing at anything that required care and attention. I wouldn’t doubt that if I were to buy a houseplant the poor thing would die, not from my lack of a green thumb, but my lack of love to give to it.

After rereading Jamie’s message and began to compose my reply. I caught myself giggling like a schoolgirl, and had to make an effort not to let the butterflies fly away with my words.

Now, that starts to get interesting :D

endless list of otps: the frasers

“Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul”

A. Malcolm

Jamie Fraser | request by @clairvoyantsam  pic thanks to X

Outlander - A love letter to Scotland

actually sketching in my sketchbook aha

New Outlander 3x07 BtS pics - the Haugh’s Apothecary via Outlander Community

Forbidden love: The WW2 Letters Between Two Men

FACT # 706

hundreds of love letters between two gay World War II soldiers were found and are being made into a book. In one, one of them wrote, 

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all our letters could be published in the future in a more enlightened time. 

Then all the world could see how in love we are.”

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