isitgintimeyet reblogged
Emma’s outward likeability
Jane Austen famously described Emma as “a character whom no one but me will much like.” And it’s true — Emma isn’t a very sympathetic protagonist, at least at the beginning. And I absolutely do think that this should come across in adaptations.
However, I do not think that Anya Taylor-Joy’s prim, haughty portrayal is the right fit. This Emma isn’t just unlikeable to the audience — she’s cold enough to make you wonder why the other characters like her. And I don’t think that should be the case at all.
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Letting Go - A Christmas Ficlet
So here’s an update on the Letting Go story. Whilst I suppose it can be read as a stand alone story, it does fit after the end of the epilogue in ‘Letting Go’. I never intended this story to go into a second arc, but i guess it’s nice to drop in every now and then to see how they’re doing.
Now that Jamie and Claire are together and have moved to Lallybroch, this is the story of their first Christmas there with the extended family.
Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge, @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve for their support and advice with this story. I hope you enjoy and that you all have a wonderful holiday time.
All I want for Christmas is…
I don’t want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don’t care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
Mariah Carey/ Walter Afanasieff
One year ago
“It’s been such a lovely day, Jamie but I feel guilty now, just sitting here watching the fire. Are you sure we shouldn’t be doing something? Helping someone?”
“Och no. Jocasta’s fine, supervising Da and Murtagh washing up. Jenny and Ian have their own routine putting the bairns tae bed and yer uncle seems content studying those old maps he found.”
“Ok, you win. We’ll stay here just a little bit longer. What’s that under the tree?… Are you sure everyone opened their presents this morning?”
“I dinna ken, Sassenach. What does the tag say?”
“It says ‘Sassenach.’ Don’t try and look innocent, Jamie. What have you done?”
“Well ye’d best open it and find out, then.”
“Oh. Oh, Jamie, it’s beautiful…”
“I’ve never loved anyone but ye. I never want tae be apart from ye ever again. This is it… us fer ever. Sae, Sassenach, I ask ye, will ye marry me?”
“Jamie, yes, of course I will. I love you too.”
**************
“Sassenach, what do ye want fer Christmas?”
A reboot, just because it’s Christmas Eve, so why not?
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Just A Friend
So. here’s the final chapter, although there may be an epilogue (thanks to @faeriesfanficblog for the suggestion)
Thanks to you all for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting. I appreciate all of you. I cant tell you how much I enjoy reading your lovely comments.
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support
I hope you enjoy this chapter
Chapter 14: From Regret to Realisation
A noise rouses me from my deep sleep. My legs ache as if from unaccustomed exercise and I feel in desperate need of a shower. Last night’s activities come hurtling back into my mind as I become aware of the large, warm body lying next to me. What had I been thinking? Actually, that was the problem—I hadn’t been thinking. My body betrayed me and totally bypassed my brain. I can’t even blame alcohol. Two beers each—last night can hardly be classed as a drunken mistake.
A loud snore makes me turn over to face the reality of what I’ve done. Jamie is lying flat on his back, still asleep. The duvet is loosely tucked around his torso, leaving his chest exposed. I feel myself blushing slightly as I notice the evidence of our nocturnal tryst—an angry purplish bruise on his shoulder and another above his left nipple.
I don’t want him to wake up just yet. I don’t really want to be having an awkward conversation at this time in the morning. And, the fact is, I don’t really know what I want. Actually, I do know—I want it to be this time twenty four hours ago—when Jamie and I were friends. Everything’s shifted now and I’m worried that it’s the end of our friendship.
So, we do need to talk, I know that. But not here, not now, not with the smell of sex in the air and my lips still tingling from his kisses.
With a muffled sort of ‘hmmph’ noise, Jamie rolls onto his side, facing me—fortunately still asleep. Under the duvet, one leg trespasses onto my side of the bed, trying to wind its way around my calf. I hold as still as possible, willing him not to wake up, trying to delay that inevitable moment of awkward realisation.
Just A Friend
So. here’s the final chapter, although there may be an epilogue (thanks to @faeriesfanficblog for the suggestion)
Thanks to you all for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting. I appreciate all of you. I cant tell you how much I enjoy reading your lovely comments.
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support
I hope you enjoy this chapter
Chapter 14: From Regret to Realisation
A noise rouses me from my deep sleep. My legs ache as if from unaccustomed exercise and I feel in desperate need of a shower. Last night’s activities come hurtling back into my mind as I become aware of the large, warm body lying next to me. What had I been thinking? Actually, that was the problem—I hadn’t been thinking. My body betrayed me and totally bypassed my brain. I can’t even blame alcohol. Two beers each—last night can hardly be classed as a drunken mistake.
A loud snore makes me turn over to face the reality of what I’ve done. Jamie is lying flat on his back, still asleep. The duvet is loosely tucked around his torso, leaving his chest exposed. I feel myself blushing slightly as I notice the evidence of our nocturnal tryst—an angry purplish bruise on his shoulder and another above his left nipple.
I don’t want him to wake up just yet. I don’t really want to be having an awkward conversation at this time in the morning. And, the fact is, I don’t really know what I want. Actually, I do know—I want it to be this time twenty four hours ago—when Jamie and I were friends. Everything’s shifted now and I’m worried that it’s the end of our friendship.
So, we do need to talk, I know that. But not here, not now, not with the smell of sex in the air and my lips still tingling from his kisses.
With a muffled sort of ‘hmmph’ noise, Jamie rolls onto his side, facing me—fortunately still asleep. Under the duvet, one leg trespasses onto my side of the bed, trying to wind its way around my calf. I hold as still as possible, willing him not to wake up, trying to delay that inevitable moment of awkward realisation.
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Chapter 50 – Finish Line
A/N: I knew I was going to be emotional when posting this chapter. But I wasn’t quite as ready as I thought I was.
I’ve said what I needed to say in my chapter notes over on Ao3, so please excuse me for the lack of eloquence here.
As always, my gratitude.
@elizabeth-beauchamp, for indulging all my paranoias about the tiniest details and sending the funniest voicemails.
@Sassysassenach for her artistry and her stickers when I need it most.
for everyone who reads this, for everyone who ever sent me a kind word, for everyone who loves this family as much as I do.
Thank you.
Never before had Claire felt as utterly devoid of warmth as this moment. The cold hadn’t hit her all at once, striking instead with all the slyness and cunning of an evil stepmother. Crowning her with white crystals and coating her lashes with diamond dust, its treacherous beauty beguiled her into childlike wonder and compliant immobility. She only realised the danger when it was already too late; when the ribbons of satin silver had eaten their way through her clothes, seeping through her skin and gnawing at her bones.
Left raw and vulnerable to the rising winds, nose and toes were the first to turn into useless blocks of ice. With her core temperature dropping from one low to the next, she was soon too stiff even to shiver, muscles no longer obeying her command as glacial gusts pulled at her hair and lashed at her face. Frozen to the marrow, even the blood in her veins moved thick and sluggish, recalcitrant to perform its essential duty. All she could do was sit and wait; watching with a mixture of abject impotence and morbid curiosity as the walls of her glittering tomb climbed higher and higher.
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Just a Friend
So, here we are, penultimate chapter - only one more after this. Thanks to you all for supporting this piece of fluff. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Warning: it is NSFW below the cut
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support with this.
Chapter 13: From Shelving to Sh…
This weekend’s plans were simple—catch up on all the housework I’ve been putting off; finally finish off the redecorating of the spare bedroom; oh, and no drinking.
My only social engagement is brunch at Geillis’ and Dougal’s house on Sunday morning. Since they are returning from their honeymoon on Saturday and will be totally shattered and jet lagged, I’m guessing that brunch will consist of very strong coffee and whatever pastries I pick up on the way.
However, despite any fatigue, Geillis was insistent on Sunday brunch (“two weeks wi’out a good old gossip—how will I survive?”) and who am I to refuse? Plus, I am looking forward to seeing her again. The time difference, not to mention the temperamental WiFi situation in the Cayman Islands, has made any communication between us very difficult.
And so, Saturday morning has gone totally to plan—hoovering, dusting, tbleaching—all ticked off my mental checklist. And now it’s time to tackle my spare bedroom.
This room, although regularly used by weekend guests and friends too inebriated to make the journey across town safely, had, I’ll admit, become something of a dumping ground—with mismatched furniture and walls sorely in need of redecoration.
With several trips to charity shops, a weekend spent repainting the walls and woodwork, and one very stressful trip to IKEA over the summer, the room is now looking presentable. There are just a few finishing touches still required—pictures to be hung, bed to be made up with new linen and a shelving unit to be assembled.
ICYMI
Just a Friend
So, here we are, penultimate chapter - only one more after this. Thanks to you all for supporting this piece of fluff. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Warning: it is NSFW below the cut
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support with this.
Chapter 13: From Shelving to Sh...
This weekend’s plans were simple—catch up on all the housework I’ve been putting off; finally finish off the redecorating of the spare bedroom; oh, and no drinking.
My only social engagement is brunch at Geillis’ and Dougal’s house on Sunday morning. Since they are returning from their honeymoon on Saturday and will be totally shattered and jet lagged, I’m guessing that brunch will consist of very strong coffee and whatever pastries I pick up on the way.
However, despite any fatigue, Geillis was insistent on Sunday brunch (“two weeks wi’out a good old gossip—how will I survive?”) and who am I to refuse? Plus, I am looking forward to seeing her again. The time difference, not to mention the temperamental WiFi situation in the Cayman Islands, has made any communication between us very difficult.
And so, Saturday morning has gone totally to plan—hoovering, dusting, tbleaching—all ticked off my mental checklist. And now it’s time to tackle my spare bedroom.
This room, although regularly used by weekend guests and friends too inebriated to make the journey across town safely, had, I’ll admit, become something of a dumping ground—with mismatched furniture and walls sorely in need of redecoration.
With several trips to charity shops, a weekend spent repainting the walls and woodwork, and one very stressful trip to IKEA over the summer, the room is now looking presentable. There are just a few finishing touches still required—pictures to be hung, bed to be made up with new linen and a shelving unit to be assembled.
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Just A Friend
Waking up to a grey and damp Sunday morning. Hope it’s less dreary where you are. Thanks for all the comments likes and reblogs. We’re now onto Chapter 12, with one more chapter to go. Hope you enjoy
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support.
Chapter 12 - From Ex to Exit
Geillis stands up and gives a small shake, as if ridding herself of any negative thoughts. “Coming, Claire?”
I lift up the hem of my dress. “I’ll just be a minute. Something stuck in my shoe. I’ll follow you in.”
Pulling off a silver sandal, I run my fingers over the thin sole, dislodging a small stone that had embedded itself into the leather. A noise from the doorway distracts me momentarily as Angus strides into the room, carrying a very full glass of red wine. Having clearly said goodbye to sobriety a few hours ago, he’s now shed his jacket and tie, there’s a stain on the front of his shirt and his face is flushed. How could any woman resist?
“Hello there Cinderella,” he greets me as he sits down next to me on the sofa.
I quickly put my sandal back on and scooch out of his wine spill zone, tucking my dress firmly underneath me. “Hello.”
“I feel like we’ve no’ had chance tae connect today. Ye ken, the best man and the bridesmaid, there’s something verra, verra romantic about that, d’ye no’ think?”
“Er…” I rack my brain for the perfect response—that ideal combination of scathing put down and icy politeness—but nothing comes to mind. Inspiration will probably strike in the middle of the night. “Not really.”
He ignores my unenthusiastic reply and carries on talking. “Sae are ye staying here tonight?”
“Yes,” I focus on picking imaginary fluff off my dress, hoping that Angus will get the message and just piss off without me having to spell it out to him. I really don’t want to be mean to him, and certainly not today of all days, but, god, read the room.
New chapter coming this weekend...
isitgintimeyet reblogged
The UK Government found £12bn for a test and trace system that doesn’t work.
We’re at 26k thousand cases JUST TODAY in the UK.
But they only have £22m for the whole of Manchester and today voted not to extend free meal provision for underprivileged kids through the school holidays.
Just A Friend
Waking up to a grey and damp Sunday morning. Hope it’s less dreary where you are. Thanks for all the comments likes and reblogs. We’re now onto Chapter 12, with one more chapter to go. Hope you enjoy
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks and @faeriesfanficblog for their support.
Chapter 12 - From Ex to Exit
Geillis stands up and gives a small shake, as if ridding herself of any negative thoughts. “Coming, Claire?”
I lift up the hem of my dress. “I’ll just be a minute. Something stuck in my shoe. I’ll follow you in.”
Pulling off a silver sandal, I run my fingers over the thin sole, dislodging a small stone that had embedded itself into the leather. A noise from the doorway distracts me momentarily as Angus strides into the room, carrying a very full glass of red wine. Having clearly said goodbye to sobriety a few hours ago, he’s now shed his jacket and tie, there’s a stain on the front of his shirt and his face is flushed. How could any woman resist?
“Hello there Cinderella,” he greets me as he sits down next to me on the sofa.
I quickly put my sandal back on and scooch out of his wine spill zone, tucking my dress firmly underneath me. “Hello.”
“I feel like we’ve no’ had chance tae connect today. Ye ken, the best man and the bridesmaid, there's something verra, verra romantic about that, d’ye no’ think?”
“Er…” I rack my brain for the perfect response—that ideal combination of scathing put down and icy politeness—but nothing comes to mind. Inspiration will probably strike in the middle of the night. “Not really.”
He ignores my unenthusiastic reply and carries on talking. “Sae are ye staying here tonight?”
“Yes,” I focus on picking imaginary fluff off my dress, hoping that Angus will get the message and just piss off without me having to spell it out to him. I really don’t want to be mean to him, and certainly not today of all days, but, god, read the room.
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Just A Friend
Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.
There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie
It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.
Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.
A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.
The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.
“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”
“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”
The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.
“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”
“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.
“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”
ICYMI
New chapter coming this weekend...
From Ex to Exit
Just A Friend
Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.
There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie
It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.
Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.
A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.
The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.
“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”
“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”
The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.
“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”
“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.
“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”
isitgintimeyet reblogged
The Vortex. Manchester Exchange. 2007.
Walked past some of my favourites theatres in London today. So sad to seem them closed. Miss the excitement and throng of people gathering each evening before curtain up. Even the buildings inspired me to pursue my dream. Hope those just beginning to dream can find a way to realise their potential. We will beat this. Stay strong.x
(If in doubt, grow a tash)
My favourite theatre- Manchester’s Royal Exchange. Looks like a space ship has landed in a grade 2 listed building. Intimate theatre in the round
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Just a Friend
Thank you all so much for your support with this story.
Sorry for the delay with this next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
Chapter 10: From Posing to Plus One
I adjust the numerous cushions behind me on the purple velvet chaise longue and take another sip from my glass of champagne. This luxurious moment is marred somewhat by the underwire in my strapless bra digging painfully into soft tissue. With my free hand, I surreptitiously try and manoeuvre it into a more comfortable position.
“Claire, after this we have tae get ye a new bra, fer the dress.” Geillis has noticed. She notices everything.
She is sitting on the edge of a lavender boudoir chair, so full of excitement, I can practically see the air humming around her. She can’t seem to keep still, her legs constantly jiggling while the fingers of one hand beat a tattoo on the arm of the chair. Despite all the movements, the champagne in her glass remains unspilt, unsurprisingly.
Eventually, the sales assistant enters holding aloft a large white garment bag. “Here ye go, ma pet. If ye jes’ want tae pop behind the screen over there, we’ll get ye sorted.”
Geillis disappears behind the screen, while I continue to savour the champagne and take a good look at my surroundings. This room is like being in a big fluffy cloud. The walls are white with huge white wooden open wardrobes, filled with masses of lace, frills and satin. One wall has a full length mirror set in an ornate gilt frame. The floorboards are painted white as are the shutters at the windows. The only splashes of colour are from the chaise longue and two boudoir chairs, which do look somewhat incongruous against the overwhelming whiteness, like burlesque performers stuck in a room full of angels.
But perhaps they couldn’t risk white seating. All the shuffling bottoms, fake tan and spilt wine would play havoc with pristine upholstery—less virginal and more slightly seedy and used. The velvet decadence is probably preferable.
ICYMI
New chapter this weekend...
From Marriage to Mackenzie
Just a Friend
Thank you all so much for your support with this story.
Sorry for the delay with this next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
Chapter 10: From Posing to Plus One
I adjust the numerous cushions behind me on the purple velvet chaise longue and take another sip from my glass of champagne. This luxurious moment is marred somewhat by the underwire in my strapless bra digging painfully into soft tissue. With my free hand, I surreptitiously try and manoeuvre it into a more comfortable position.
“Claire, after this we have tae get ye a new bra, fer the dress.” Geillis has noticed. She notices everything.
She is sitting on the edge of a lavender boudoir chair, so full of excitement, I can practically see the air humming around her. She can’t seem to keep still, her legs constantly jiggling while the fingers of one hand beat a tattoo on the arm of the chair. Despite all the movements, the champagne in her glass remains unspilt, unsurprisingly.
Eventually, the sales assistant enters holding aloft a large white garment bag. “Here ye go, ma pet. If ye jes’ want tae pop behind the screen over there, we’ll get ye sorted.”
Geillis disappears behind the screen, while I continue to savour the champagne and take a good look at my surroundings. This room is like being in a big fluffy cloud. The walls are white with huge white wooden open wardrobes, filled with masses of lace, frills and satin. One wall has a full length mirror set in an ornate gilt frame. The floorboards are painted white as are the shutters at the windows. The only splashes of colour are from the chaise longue and two boudoir chairs, which do look somewhat incongruous against the overwhelming whiteness, like burlesque performers stuck in a room full of angels.
But perhaps they couldn’t risk white seating. All the shuffling bottoms, fake tan and spilt wine would play havoc with pristine upholstery—less virginal and more slightly seedy and used. The velvet decadence is probably preferable.
isitgintimeyet reblogged
Just A Friend
Thanks for all the support.
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
I’m on holiday next week so the next chapter may be slightly delayed, but for now here’s…
Chapter 9: From Siblings to Safety Net
Jamie leads the way through the car park. I tread gingerly, the combination of unaccustomed high heels and uneven ground—a potentially lethal combination. He turns and notices my dilemma.
“Here,” he holds out his arm for me. I smile and gratefully take hold of his forearm until we reach the comparative safety of the marquee.
Once inside, Jamie pauses and looks around, trying to find his sister. I look around too, not that I know what his sister looks like, but I’m assuming, based on her brother, that she’ll be pretty easy to spot in the crowd.
The room is full with a steady stream of people moving swiftly towards the bar and rather less swiftly back to their tables carefully balancing bottles and glasses. I spot, through a break in the procession, Rupert sitting at a table talking to a petite brunette, who I assume is his wife Morag.
“Look,” I nudge Jamie and point towards the table. “It’s Rupert and—“
“Aye, so it is.” And he deftly negotiates our way through the maze of alcohol carrying individuals to the table.
Rupert and his wife stand up as we approach and he greets us enthusiastically, patting Jamie on the back and kissing my cheek.
“Nice tae see ye again,” he says, smiling.
“Good to see you too, Rupert.”
Jamie envelopes Morag in a huge bear hug. Is this the usual greeting for Rupert’s wife? I glance at Rupert but he’s totally unperturbed by this display of affection.
Sorry for the delay — been a’holidaying. (Hope you’ve liked the pictures)
new chapter coming tomorrow