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#Briannas crop top
mysimsloveaffair · 4 months
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Shortly after my family leaves, I arrive in the Spice District in San Myshuno. Now that I see it, I realize I was wrong to prejudge it. It would have been a great place to live, but then again, I would be living in an apartment – not a large house like the one I’m in now. 
My cousin Bri is outside waiting for me and greets me with a big hug.
Brianna: Long time, no see cuz!
Wade: Way too long
Brianna: Terra is already inside.
We go inside and find Terra; surprisingly, Maia is also there. My eyes fall on her cropped top and fitted jeans. It’s the first time I’ve seen her dressed up, and she looks fantastic.
Wade: Bri, Terra - this is my friend Maia from BB.
Brianna and Terra: *together* Nice to meet you, Maia.
Maia: Nice to meet you all, too.
Brianna: I hope at least one of you can bowl because Terra and I suck.
Maybe my college bowling course pays off today.
(Full post available to read on my website)
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larussos-left-sock · 2 months
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Kreese x OC
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Flexing my ai art fr here LOL
Summary: John Kreese can't stop lusting over Johnny Lawrence's daughter and decides they do something about that (they both do)
++Characters remain unaged for some reason or other (personally, I choose vampires but choice is yours)++
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Being Johnny Lawrence's daughter did not have any virtues. Especially having had her at eighteen years old, just a few years before her estranged brother Robby. Brianna truly could not recll the last time she spoke to the boy. This was due to the fact that she was far too busy taking care of her other younger brother, "Hawk" who she shared only a neurotic, drug-abusing mother with. At least she and her brother's hair started to match recently; as her long haire was always dyed a deep crimson. The only man in her entire life who took care of her was her boss and mentor, John Kreese.
She was twenty-one now, but as a child of fifteen, when she first met Kreese; he honestly freaked her out. Almost like some deranged guardian angel, she would always catch a glimpse of his red 1967 Chevy Impala everywhere she went after he had met her and found out who her father was. Apparently, the two of them had some beef from the 80s. Frankly, she did not care. Johnny was a deadbeat and altough she somewhat despised him, a part of her craved for his validation above anything on this planet. Over the years, she tried to fill that hole he left in her heart with all sorts of frivalous ideations and actions. Being all-valley champion three years in a row, for one. Drinking her entire body weight in tequila before Kreese did what he had to and threatened to fire her from the southern-comfort styled bar he owned if she picked up one more bottle; another time he saved her life. Or her personal favorite, her disgusting sexual appetites for men who could be her daddy for her.
Grimacing at the thought, Brianna looked down at her phone sitting on a deep laquered wood counter of the Cobra Kai office desk; recently refurbished since her father had decided to bring the place back to life efore Kreeese swept in and took another child that the nlond man could not take care of, off his hands. She sighed as turned the iPhone down and continued to forge Kreese's signature on countless insurances and tournament agreements. She was working three jobs at fourteen, plus school in which she failed more than half of her classes. That was when her mom nearly overdosed. When Brianna and Eli went to pick her up at the hospital, she was gone and she did not hear from Martha again until she was sixteen. Kreese offered to pretty much "pay" her to do Karate when he met her at fifteen. The All-Valley prize money was quite substantial as the audience grew ever since the underdog, Daniel LaRusso, kicked her dad's ass in 1983. During the day though, befoer practice, she would go to school. The government pay stubs that she claimed for her dead aunt paid a lot of the bills. Now she worked two jobs and spent countless hours a day with John Kreese.
"Hey, Dollface," a low voice shouted, speak of the devil, "Why don't you get out on the mats and help me with this demonstration. Retards aren't seeming to get it."
He clucked his tongue sharply as she shook his head in irritated disbelief. Brianna looked down at her clothes, then. A cropped, black tank top accessorized with a cross choker hanging from her neck and a miniskirt (with shorts built-in. thak go for skorts.)
"I'm wearing a skirt. I'm not really wanting to flash a group of teenage boys my cooch," she joked, laughing at the stupid word. Raising a brow and apparently not in the mood for her antics by his irritated expression, Sensei Kreese replied, "Stop acting like a primadonna and get your ass on that mat."
The mats lay out before her, polished to a deep black sheen that mirrored the expressions of the students' faces. They were a motley crew - pasty skin, beady eyes, and punching bags waiting to be filled. Or so it seemed to her, anyway. She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her outfit, then back up to the Sensei.
He was still glaring at her, and Brianna sighed, knowing that she wouldn't find respite in defiance. With a roll of her eyes, she gracefully stretched out her limbs, feeling the muscles tense under her skin. Despite her disdain for these children, there was a part of her that enjoyed the adrenaline that coursed through her veins everytime he was allowed to spar too. Besides, when she and Kreese would practice with each other just to mess around.
She heard a whistle as she bent down to take off her mary-janes. Knowing it was Kyler, she turned without hesitation and whipped it at his head, knocking him to the ground with a hard thud. Laughing to herself, as he did torment her brother for what seemed to be years, she took the other shoe off and bowed to Kreese; who seemed proud and amused at her actions.
Starting their dance off, she threw a kick at her sensei, and then another when she missed. Hitting his jaw on the second one, she threw a jab of her knuckles into his side. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and determination as Brianna and Kreese continued their sparring match. They moved in harmony, each strike and counter strike landing with precision and power. Brianna's deep red hair flowed around her face as she focused on her next move.
Johnny Lawrence watched from the sidelines, a mix of pride and anger in his eyes. He couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment as he saw his daughter grow into such a skilled fighter. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel the weight of his own failures and that they drove him into an enemy's nest. The girl barely ever even said 'hi' to him; let alone called him dad. He had let Brianna down time and time again, and now he watched as Kreese took her under his wing. The former karate champ turned and left, excusing himself as though he had an appointmnet somehwere. Miguel watched him go, worried.
The room swirled when finally, he clipped the backs of her legs with a swift kick; just as she was raising his ankle to attack to his chest. Falling backwards with a clamor, she felt his huge, calloused hand lace itself around her neck. Her nether regions became scalding hot, her face blushing as a moan nearly slipped past her lips and she instictualey spread her legs slightly wider.
His steely voice made her ragain her inner composure, but did not stop the wetness pooling in her panties as she thought she could feel his hard cock pressed up against her slit; only layers of clothes seperating them. "What did Ms. Lawrence do incorrectly?" he sneered to the students. They all exchanged glances before her brother, ever so kindly, spoke up, "She was only focused on offense Sensei!"
"Correct, and although I do not preach defense as a skill, perhaps you really should know where your opponents feet as swinging and get better balance, Brianna." He demanded, stern. If she weren't so angry, her panties would be soaked through.
Brianna tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She would have willingly been his captive, embracing his dominance and feeling his body pressing against her.
"Do I make myself clear?" he asked, his unbending eyes never leaving hers.
"Yes, Sensei," she muttered, trying to regain control of her body that seemed to be betraying her.
Letting her go, he stepped back and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Good. Now, show me what you've learned."
Brianna didn't waste any time. She chopped her leg into his side, feeling the pain shoot through his body. But even as she smiled in triumph, she knew that she had to be careful. Kreese was always watching, always looking for ways to win. Still when he was forced to bend to the strength of her kick, his head came down as well, giving her a clear line for her foot to follow as it thwackd him in the face. His whole body turned with the force of her kick, the kick that he had taught her. That should not turn him on as much as it did, but when the side of her foot collided with the side of his face, he could smell her deletable perfume and it went straight to his cock.
Collapsing, it was her turn to press down on his jugular, stradding his neck with her bared, soft thighs as she took her hand off his throat and placed him a headloack with the strongest muscles of her body. The scent of her arousal was like a wild, untamable beast, emanating from between her thighs and seeping through the fabric of her shorts. Placing too huge hands on the insides of her thighs, he pries them apart and bucks her off of him; that round ass of hers wiggling on his chest drove him wild.
"You're getting cocky, kid," he growled, his lips brushing against her ear. "But remember, I'm the one in control here."
He said the last part so that only she could hear it. Brianna bit her lip, replying, "No mercy, sensei." with a shrug.
"Well done," he commented to her with that lopsided grin that she wanted to rub off his face with his cunt. He continued to the class, "That was an ingenius way to use a defensive move and turn it into a lethal offensive one. Give our lovely volunteer a round of applause."
The class did as they were told, some of the boys nervously swaying back and forth at how embarrassing it would be if they had to fight her. Kreese felt a pang of disdain as he thought of how their little cocks would get hard at his girl's thighs on their face.
Hawk hooted at his sister, mocking her with his overdramatics and stupid grin. She smiled back at him, gently rubbing his back before heading to the office again; swaying her hips when she was sure Kreese was watching.
About an hour later, in the office, Kreese returned. "That was fun, huh?"
Her blue eyes moved off the papers and up to his silvered ones to look up at him through dark lashes. She looked like sin, one thin strap of her tanktop hanging off a sharp, pale shoulder.
Brianna smirked, a playful challenge in her eyes. "It was more than just fun, Sensei." Her smirk widened, a hint of heat in her voice. "But I'm still not sure I've learned enough from you."
Kreese shook his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sure, doll. Damn near killed me with those thighs of yours." His cock twitched at the memory.
She arched an eyebrow at him, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. "You think so, Sensei?"
His eyes narrowed, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips as the words hung in the air. "I know so. Are you questioning me, Ms. Lawrence"
Brianna felt a flush of heat spread across her body, though she tried to hide it behind a casual smile. No, daddy, she wanted to say.
Read the rest on ao3!!
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dailyowenstrand · 1 year
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Rob Lowe was joined by his real life family - and his 9-1-1 Lone Star family - on Thursday March 23 as he premiered his new Netflix comedy Unstable.
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Ronen Rubinstein, who stars as Rob's onscreen son in Lone Star, was in attendance and rocking a chic pinstripe suit, with wife Jessica Parker Kennedy who looked gorgeous in a metallic cropped top and suit. Also in attendance were castmates Natacha Karam, Brianna Baker, Brian Michael Smith, and Julian Works, who have all starred with Rob and Ronen in the Fox series since 2010 when it launched. (x)
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wirebrother · 8 months
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A story about being a fourteen year old girl in New York City 
would go something like,
The grown men who hung around Union Square were shady characters. They seemed to live there, though most of them had apartments. My girls and I absolutely did not question their attention. We were their friends. 
One of the men could get us acid. None of us had ever tried it. We were about to take the train uptown to pick it up when
His bald head was shiny with sweat. He was zig-zagging unsteadily through the crowd. The wide sweeping arc of those stone stairs, choked with people. No one even looked his way until he
fell. Then they scattered. 
Heat of summer. Everyone out. Back then it was Whole Foods across the street from the stairs, and Bank of America. Now there’s a Sephora there, too. They moved it from the other side of the park. It used to be next to Petco. 
 When the man fell he left a crater in the crowd. It was just the five of us left standing there. Gwyn was the prettiest. I was her best friend. 
The old man was gasping. There was some kind of device, a medical accessory I had never seen before attached to his arm. It looked like a robot arm, struts for support with a blue round plastic joint. There was a staple on the man’s elbow, and red blood leaking out. 
Our grown-up friends watched us from the shade of the entrance to the subway, smoking cigarettes and letting out long low curse words under the big green dome. 
Brianna called 9-1-1. 
Earlier that day, we had shoplifted some shirts from Forever 21. Tamiris took one of them out of her bag and ripped it up into strips. One of us was pulling the old man into her lap. 
It was me.
His poor half-robot elbow. It was bleeding pretty bad. The staple was doing a pitiful job of holding shut that lenticular window to his slick insides, a red smile laughing across the bent joint. The failing silver staple twinkling, a pupil in an accusing eye. 
The bald head was bleeding, too. He hit it when he fell. 
I froze at first. Really, he wasn’t moving. And neither was anyone else. There was a moment before he hit the ground, which extended, for me, long after the disaster had settled and decisions were being made. Katy snapped into action, and Gwyn. Even timid Tamiris was helping out.
But I kept seeing the high heeled shoes stepping nimbly out of his way, kept forgetting it was really happening 
then remembering again. And the bright thick reality of blood. 
There we were, in the middle of that circus ring. In our short-shorts, our crop tops.
Some passerby offered a bottle of water. Tamiris produced another shirt from her bag and we soaked it in the water, dabbed it on his head, tried to make him drink. 
Brianna was still on the phone with 9-1-1. She had to shout to be heard. You wouldn’t believe how many people were out at Union Square that day. Every day. 
The fold-out tables, crystal sellers, chess-players, musty smelling milk-crates full of books and their shrewd watchful salespeople. Not to mention the bums. Or the constant honking cars. The incense burning. The bicyclists with salubrious death-wishes.
Brianna kept her shit together. Her voice was mighty on the phone. The ambulance’s sirens came wailing from around the back of the park.
We couldn’t think of anything else to do after the shirt thing. His head was on my pale chubby thighs with their million scars. 
I wasn’t sure he was breathing. I started to talk to him. 
Brianna was a gladiator at the edge of the hole in the crowd. She made sure the ambulance knew exactly where to find us. She did everything right. 
But traffic in Manhattan is impossible. To drive in that area is murder. The siren howled a vengeance at us from the corner of East 14th and Broadway for what seemed like hours, caught in a snarl of taxi cabs and the awnings of Halal carts.
Back then I’d pour my heart out to just about anyone. And I really thought the old man might be dead. I was trying to talk him out of it, using my only tool of persuasion, which was an outpouring of love like a taser shock. I guess I thought I could comfort him back to life. I wasn’t thinking clearly.
The world was
                        me, holding the old man in my arms, and Gwyn, holding his hand. The roar of Manhattan diminishing around that knife of sound, the ambulance, not getting any closer. The reason I thought he was dead is because he was so heavy. The old man was clammy and perfectly limp.
In therapy I learned about 4-4-6 breathing. 
I started counting for him, counting,
and crying, for both of us. Then the EMTs broke through 
and I fell backwards, hyperventilating, when he was lifted off of me and 
away. 
Apparently he was just drunk. 
                                                That’s what the paramedic told me. The old man was drunk, then he fell. She came to check on me, too, because it looked like I might have fainted.
   But I was OK. So was the old man. We got to talk to him before they loaded him in. 
His face looked so different when it was alive and smiling. He clasped our hands. He said his name was Stanley Green. He said thank you. We were all pretty much a mess. The paramedics waved goodbye. The ambulance drilled its way back into the clog of traffic, was gone. 
In no time at all everyone went back to walking on the stairs where he fell. I couldn’t understand. To me he was kind of still falling. 
Our Union Square friends hadn’t gone anywhere. They were waiting to take us uptown. We went with them and got the acid. That wasn’t the end of the day. My curfew was eight. I still had six more hours of freedom. 
In the shuffle, Gwyn was left holding on to Stanley’s eyeglasses. They were maroonish, square. Sensible, plastic frames. She solemnly vowed to visit him in the hospital and return them.
But obviously we never saw Stanley Green again.
Maybe Gwyn still has the glasses. Keeping them seems like something she would do. But I would have no way of knowing. I haven’t talked to her in years.
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mandy-sims · 2 years
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hi! wcif briannas crop top?
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here
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toychest321 · 1 year
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Brianna Dulce |💝| Juicy Couture OG Bling Tracksuit |💝| Juicy Couture Cropped Velour Tank Top
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Finn but wearing Brianna Dulce's Juicy Couture crop top
...I agree.
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(Don't copy/trace/repost/steal/etc.; Click for better quality!)
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xshazxx · 1 year
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They say she is smiling in candid photos, is a photo chosen to be posted on social media ever really that candid. She still gives me vibes of a person who is very much for the cameras, Ro’s brithday being the best example of that.
I wish we would of had Chase style him last night, like the black was fine but boring. She really needs to hire a stylist, when you see her up against what Natascha and Briana were wearing, it was clear she is going for the same vibe but can’t quite put it together right.
I love Natacha's style and imo she's the only 'stylish' one out of all of them I mmp. Brianna's style is boring. She wears the same mini skirt, crop top & oversized jacket combo to basically everything.
But I do feel like everyone had similar vibes going on for the premiere. Js overall style is nonexistent to me; she's a nice looking woman but nothing she wears really makes her stand out -dunno if that's a good or bad thing-
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Every time we get a behind the scenes pic that shows a cast members modified T-shirt under their uniform, from then on I always picture that T-shirt whenever they’re on screen in uniform 😅
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a-froger-epic · 3 years
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Fem!queen (mostly froger(mostly Freddie))headcannons:
-Freddie has one of her nipples pierced, and purposely makes sure you can see it through her top on stage.
-Regina absolutely lives in crop tops, no body can even remember the last time she wore a shirt that went all the way down.
-Freddie and Regina have both on occasion been known to go on stage topless with their nipples barely covered by little stickers.
-Freddie is the curviest, followed by Joan, Roger closely behind her, and then Brianna has a very slim build with almost no curves to speak of. (Still beautiful thought ofc 😌♥️ small tits need love too!!)
-Brianna is insecure about her lack of noticeable curves and loves to wear big, flowy, silk tops that create a ton of movement on stage to distract from her slim figure.
-Joan wears things that are oversized and comfortable, not sloppy, but she definitely dresses the most causal on stage of all the girls.
-Freddie is usually the only one to wear dresses on stage(Brianna occasionally will as well) the others have begged her not too because the way she moves someone is gonna get flashed. Her dance moves only got more provocative after this conversation.
-Freddie likes to start the show wearing very tall heels because she feels powerful in them. They are always taken off before the end of the second song.
-Brianna likes to decorate her curls with jewels and little shiny things
-Regina used to straighten or curl her hair before going on stage, but soon decided it wasn’t worth the effort since always sweated off any hairstyle she tried to maintain. She now just wears her hair in its natural texture.
-Freddie occasionally wears her little revealing outfits without shaving her legs/armpit/etc. The papers give her shit about this. The band supports her on it 100%
-Roger loves thigh high socks. Both on and off stage.
-Joan had long lovely soft hair, but found it was incredibly annoying to deal with on stage while dancing around. So it was soon chopped off. Fans were sad at first, but quickly fell in love with the look.
-in the early days, Freddie was asked in an interview why she dances so suggestively on stage. She looked at the interviewer and deadpanned: “I wear a vibrator under my stage costumes. It makes me incredibly horny.”
Brilliant, thanks for sharing, anon! 😁 I especially like the Freddie not always bothering to shave one. 👌🏻
@bambirexwrites 👀
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sablelab · 3 years
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👻 Spooky meets Kooky 🎃
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SUMMARY: Claire reminisces about the time when she first came to Scotland and fell through the stones on the eve of Samhain. Jamie tells her a story his da told them as bairns, and Claire recaps her favourite Halloween memory from the future which has James Fraser all engrossed in more ways than one.
A spoof of when the past meets the future.  Retelling parts of Chapter 1, pp 22-25 from Drums of Autumn, inspired by Halloween with the Addams Family and Vera Adxer’s artwork above.   
  AO3
PART 1 … The Tale of the Tannasg 👻
 It was nearing to Halloween time on Fraser’s Ridge, and as the Frasers prepared for a night beside the fire, Claire was reminiscing about times gone by on that fateful night that was to become her destiny.
“Jamie, Halloween, the spookiest night of the year, is almost upon us.”
“Don’t ye mean Samhain Sassenach?” he replied cheekily knowing that the two were indeed similar celebrations centuries apart.
“I do, but I was just thinking about the first time that Frank and I came to Inverness all those years ago … I remember it was on the eve of Samhain.”
She continued to tell Jamie the conversation they’d had in Mrs Baird’s Bed and Breakfast not realizing that her husband’s mind was elsewhere. “I can still recall what she said …”
“Well, you've picked a bonny time to be here. Just nigh on Samhain.”
“I take it that's Gaelic for "Halloween?”
“Well, Halloween is derived from Samhain. You're both welcome at the festival, of course.”
“Of course, what would Halloween, Samhain, be without a good ghost story?”
“Oh, and we have those, for sure. I hope you'll join us for Samhain tomorrow night.”
“What, the pagan festival?”
“Aye. There’s a circle of standing stones on the hill just outside the village, and there's a local group who still observe rituals there. It’s a place called Craigh na Dun and according to local folklore, the stones were carried there from Africa by a race of Celtic giants …”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Hmmph!  Not Frank …” Jamie mumbled under his breath tapping his fingers against his thigh in dislike.
The mention of Frank Randall’s name only brought back his feelings towards the man he had sent his Claire back to on the eve of Culloden knowing that he would surely die on the battlefield. His emotions were still raw about this man even after all these years and their conversation about him and their daughter Brianna echoed in his head as Claire was still speaking.
“I hadna thought ever to be so jealous of a dead man. I shouldna have thought it possible.”
“Of a dead man? Of Frank?”
“Who else? I have been worm-eaten wi’ it, all these days of riding. I see his face in my mind, waking and sleeping. Ye did say he looked like Jack Randall, no?”
“How? How could you think of such a thing?”
“How could I not? Ye heard her, Claire; ye ken well what she said to me!”
“Brianna?”
“She said she would gladly see me in hell, and sell her own soul to have her father back—her real father.  I keep thinking he would not have made such a mistake. He would have trusted her; he would have known that she … I keep thinking that Frank Randall was a better man than I am. She thinks so. I thought … perhaps ye felt the same, Sassenach.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser …!”  Claire remonstrated noticing that her husband seemed a little distracted, “… Are you listening to me?”
“Aye, I am Sassenach,” he replied sheepishly knowing that his mind had indeed been elsewhere.  “I’m intrigued about that night in Inverness, and what happen to ye before ye fell through the stones.” Jamie looked at his wife and gave her his full attention to what she might say next.
“Do you know that if I hadn’t gone to see the Druids that night, and returned in the morning to collect the Forget-me-nots, that I may not have ever gone through the stones and found you.”
“We were fated mo ghràidh.  Ye would have found yer way to the stones regardless because I was waiting for ye on the other side. I thank the day, Murtagh brought ye to me at the cabin.” He leaned towards his love and clasping her hand brought it to his lips placing a tender kiss to the top of her hand and knuckles.
Claire blushed at her love’s romantic gesture and looking at him explained about that night so long ago.  “I remember seeing those Druids dancing.  They were mesmerizing Jamie twirling in circles on top of the hill with their burning tapers. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the sight of them, but some small voice inside warned me I wasn't supposed to be there. That I was an unwelcome voyeur to something ancient and powerful.”
“Aye, ye were Sassenach, but that is the mystery of Samhain. It is all about the supernatural, witches, spirits and fire. During the celebrations, people dance around bonfires while the dances tell stories of life and death. What ye saw that night was something magical that drew you tae me.”
“I wouldn’t change anything Jamie except for you sending me back on the eve of Culloden, but we found each other again and that is all that counts.”
“Aye. You belong wi' me. We're mated for life Sassenach. I barley lived for those twenty years wi'out a heart when ye were gone. I lived half a man and accustomed myself to live in the bit that was left. Did ye feel the same?”
“Yes, I knew how that felt, and had it not been for Brianna I don’t know how I would have survived too. But I had you always close because our daughter was so like you Jamie. Your carved initial in the flesh of my palm was also a constant reminder of our love. It gave me comfort whenever I touched it.  When I closed my eyes, I could feel you touching me.”  
Claire looked at the man she adored thankful every day that they had been reunited and that their two-decade separation had been both painful and heart breaking for each of them.  “It was lonely without you, so lonely.”
“And me,” Jamie replied pensively, his voice a soft whisper.  “I saw ye so many times.  You came to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes. When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely, I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, wi’ yer hair curling up about your face.” He paused before an outpouring of emotion surfaced.  “During that time apart, I prayed every day that you and our bairn would be safe, for whether I’m dead or you, whether we’re together or apart Claire, I will always love ye.”
“And I you, Jamie.”
“Samhain was the beginning of our destiny Sassenach.  A pagan, Gaelic festival brought us together.” He kissed her palm and rested it on his heart.
Claire could feel his heart beating and her eyes misted over just thinking about the significance of this special time of the year. “All I know of Samhain is what Mrs Baird told us.  Please tell me more Jamie.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Samhain is a three-day celebration in preparation for winter mo ghràidh and a time for kin all around the Highlands tae come together and feast. People believe that deceased spirits and faeries of the Otherworld can easily come into our world, so ye would honour the dead and implore loved ones to bestow some blessing on them in return. Offerings of food and drink are left outside for the spirits, even portions of crops are left in the ground for them.”
Claire listened, attentive to everything that Jamie was telling her.  
“Tricks and pranks are played but blamed on faeries and spirits ye ken. Children disguise themselves as evil spirits by blackening their faces and dressing in auld clothes to go guising door-to-door reciting songs and verses in exchange for food.”
“Why do they blacken their faces?”
“’Twas so that they can venture out safely wi’out being detected by wicked spirits in hope of fooling them and to scare away the ghouls who might want tae harm them.”
“It is so like what happens at Halloween in the future too Jamie. A lot of Scots came to America in the 20th Century and brought these customs with them and they evolved to become extremely popular. There are many similarities to Samhain but also some differences too. In the future people dress up in masks and spooky costumes and the children go Trick or Treating for sweets.”
“Aye, it would seem so mo nighean donn. Samhain and Halloween do seem verra similar.”
“Mrs Baird said that you needed to be mindful for ghosts are freed on the feast days and wander about, free to do good or ill as they please.”
“’Tis true Sassenach. I myself have not seen a tannasg, but there are tales of others who have.”
“A tannasg? What, in Heaven’s name is that, Jamie?”
“Oh, a Dhia … where tae begin,” he exclaimed running his hand over his chin in thought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Taking a deep breath as if calming himself before he started to explain, Jamie picked up his cup of ale and took a big swig before beginning.  He looked at Claire as she waited for his explanation.
“Some say a tannasg is a balding, six-foot-tall, hairy, Celtic beastie, normally only found wandering around the hills and glens at night. Some say it is eerily like a fogy mist that covers the moors on a dark night and is what ye may call an apparition, a spirit or a shadowy ghost figure. Nobody really kens what it is but, nae matter, a tannasg is verra scary and if you come upon one when out in the glens ye must be verra careful. Sometimes it’s an unfriendly faerie or nymph who may have been holding onto a grudge and means tae cause trouble.  A tannasg would put the fear of the Almighty in ye and scare ye witless.  If ye ever were to meet one it would make yer hair stand up like a man’s cock in the mornin’ Sassenach.”
“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!  I’m scared with just the description of one.”
“And so ye should be a leannan.  They are verra scary beasties that ye wouldna want to meet.”
“Oh, I do love hearing a scary ghost story Jamie. Can you tell me any about tannasgs?”
Claire watched as his lip curved up into a smile. He had that twinkle in his eyes that she knew so well whenever he was going to tell a story.
“Aye, I will.  Sit yerself down by the fire and I’ll tell ye one that ma da told us wee bairns that scairt us truly.”
Settling down more comfortably in her chair, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and waited for her husband to retell the tale told to him, his brother William and sister Jenny long, long ago.
“I can tell ye a frightfully spooky tale of the past.  It’s a spine-chilling story guaranteed tae give you a good thrill and chill ye to the bones.”
“I think I best have a wee dram of whisky ready for the story you are about to tell then James Fraser.”
“Aye …”  He picked up his cup of ale and they both took a wee sip of their drinks.  “Sláinte. Are ye ready Sassenach?”
“I am.” Claire curled her feet up in the chair whilst Jamie began to tell the tale of the tannasg.
“My father loved telling this story.”
She watched as a muted glow descended over Jamie’s face as the light from the fire fell across his features and highlighted the animation she could see on his face and in his eyes. Claire looked at him waiting with bated breath ready for him to retell this tale, for she knew that she was going to enjoy this story very much indeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Tis the story of a man who was afraid of being alone in the dark and most mortally scairt of the spirits, ye ken, and how one night he met a tannasg. I remember when my da first told this story. I was mortally scairt too Sassenach.”
His body shuddered a little despite the heat in the room at the thought of the untold story he would tell. “I kept awake half the night, after he told us this tale, though it dinna seem to bother Jenny that much.”
“Oh, my,” Claire uttered her voice eager to hear more. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes round with the wonder and intrigue that he would impart with his tale as Jamie began to recount his childhood story.
Settling himself in his seat by the fire, he sat back, his ale cup in hand.  Thinking, he rubbed his hand across his chin collecting his thoughts. Jamie then smiled at his wife wryly glancing at her as he began to recount his tale of long ago.
“Ah, well, it was in the late, cold autumn in the Highlands, just when the season turns and the chill in the air tells ye the ground will be covered wi’ frost come morning.”  
Rolling the pewter cup slowly between his hands, he stared down into the dark ale as though seeing those Scottish peaks in the pitch-black night and the mist that floated across the glens.  Raising his eyes, he looked at Claire.  She was hanging on each word and so he continued.
“Well Jock MacBride’s son brought back their kine from the glen that night, but there was one wee beast missing.  The lad had hunted for it up the hills and down the dales but couldna find it anywhere, so his da sent the lad to milk the two others and set out himself tae look for the lost cow.”
“Go on …”
“The da went some distance, but his cottage behind him soon disappeared.  When he looked back, he couldna see the light from the window anymore and there was no sound but the whistling of the wind.  It was cold, but MacBride went on trapsing through the mud and heather as the ice crunched beneath his boots echoing in the stillness.”
Claire pulled her shawl around her shoulders. If her husband could see her eyes, he would have seen that her pupils were decidedly larger. She was so engrossed with his story thus far and took another wee sip of her drink. With eyes fixed on Jamie, she couldn’t wait to hear more of his tale.
“Soon up ahead of him, Jock saw a small grove through the mist and thinking the cow might have taken shelter beneath the trees, he went toward it. However, the trees were birches, standing there with nae a leaf, and with their branches all gnarled together, so he bent his head to squeeze beneath the boughs.”
“What did he see when he got through the branches Jamie?”
“He came into the grove Sassenach, and saw it was not a grove at all, but a circle of trees. There were great tall trees, spaced verra evenly all around him and smaller ones too wi’ saplings grown up in between the trees to make a wall of thick branches.  In the centre of the circle stood a cairn.”
Claire felt as though a sliver of cold ice had just slid down her spine.  She got chills listening to him and shivered imagining the scene, for his picture was very real in her mind. She had seen ancient cairns in the Highlands herself that Jamie had just described and found them eerie enough in the broad light of day, let alone to see one at night.  That would have been quite spooky indeed.
Jamie was getting that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach he remembered feeling as a bairn when his father had told this tale. He looked over at Claire and she had an expression of foreboding for what he may say next on her face that he’d had too. He took a sip of ale to loosen his vocal cords for his mouth was dry before continuing.
“He felt quite queer did Jock MacBride, for he kent the place, everyone did and kept well away from it.  It was strange and it seemed even worse in the dark and the cold than it did in the daylight.  It was an auld cairn the kind laid wi’ chunks of rock all heaped round with stones.   He was scairt, but he slowly glanced up, and saw before him the black opening of a tomb.”
“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!  Was there a tannasg in there?”
Her husband gave her a piercing look.  Jamie knew that Claire’s mind was thinking ahead and knew that he was getting close to revealing what Jock had seen.
“He knew it was a place that no man should come, and he was without a powerful charm to ward off any spirits. Jock had naught but a wooden cross about his neck, so he crossed himself with it and turned tae go.”
Jamie paused to take another sip of his ale to catch his breath. Claire saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed and reached instinctively for her own cup with eyes fixed on her beloved. Holding her breath, she gasped, “Don’t stop there. What happened next?”
Giving her the semblance of a wink and a wry grin, he paused then spoke softly stating, “As Jock went from the grove … he heard footsteps behind him.”
“No…!” she exclaimed.
“He dinna turn to see, but kept walking and the steps kept pace wi’ him, step by step always following.  Jock came through the peat where the water seeps up and it was covered with ice, the weather bein’ so cold ye ken.  MacBride could hear the peat crunch under his feet and behind him the cr-ack! cr-ack! of the breaking ice.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
James Fraser was a natural born storyteller, animated and engaging like most Scots were and listening to him speak reminded Claire of their wedding night and the awkwardness between them. She remembered him saying, “You’re a Fraser now Sassenach.  You must learn to tell a story and listen to one.” So, to put her at ease, he’d told her story after story of his family and his life growing up and she in turn had told him about her life too. Her husband was in his element telling this story just like on the night they wed.  She knew, that Jamie was aware that she hung on his every word and was eager to hear the rest of the story.  The tension was building and placing her legs to the floor, Claire removed her shawl as it was getting warmer in the room and leaned forward eager to hear more of his tale.
“Jock MacBride walked and walked through the cold dark night watching ahead for the light of his own window where his wife had set the candle. But the light never showed and he began tae fear he had lost his way among the heather and the dark hills.”
“The tassasg was following him?”
“Aye, he was Sassenach. All the time the steps kept pace with him echoing loud in his ears. At last Jock could bear it no more and seizing hold of the cross he wore round his neck he swung about wi’ a great cry tae face whatever followed.”
There was apprehension in her voice for poor Jock. “What did he see?”  
Jamie glanced at Claire and when next he spoke, his voice was so quiet, almost like a whisper, that she needed to concentrate to hear what he was saying.
“It was a figure like a man, but with no body. It was all white like it might have been made of the mist, but wi’ great holes where its eyes should be. They were black and empty and fit tae draw the soul from MacBride’s body with fear.”
Claire gasped with a cry of anguish at the description, and placed her hand across her mouth. “What did he do Jamie?
“Jock held up his cross before his face and he prayed aloud to the Blessed Virgin,” he said leaning forward intently. “The thing came no nearer Claire, but stayed there watching him.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The dim firelight outlined her husband’s profile in a halo of golden aura which made his rustic hair seem like it had flecks of gold and crimson sprinkled in it as well. Suddenly, she was a little distracted by the man and was mesmerized by his intoxicating Scottish drawl. Claire’s eyes glazed over overcome with feelings for the virile man whose silhouette was oh so tempting in the fire’s glow, but also for poor Jock MacBride and how he would get out of his predicament.  She held her breath and waited for what would happen next.
“And so, he began to walk backwards not daring to turn around again. Jock walked backward stumbling and slipping in an effort to get away from the spirit, fearing every moment that he might tumble into a burn or down a cliff and break his neck, but fearing worse tae turn his back on the cold thing.”
“I would have done the same Jamie.  Better to watch the tannasg than not to know where it was,” she added with a little shiver of dread for the poor Jock MacBride.
“He couldna tell how long he’d walked only that his legs were trembling wi’ weariness. Then at last he caught a glimpse of a light through the mist, for there was his own cottage wi’ the candle in the window.  Jock cried out in joy and turned to his door, but the cold thing was quick and slipit past him tae stand between him and the door.”
“Oh no!”
“Dinna fash Sassenach, his wife had been watching out for him and when she heard him cry out, she came to the door at once.  Jock shouted to her not to come out but to go and fetch a charm to drive away the tannasg.  Quick as could be, Bessie MacBride snatched the pot from beneath her bed and a twig of myrtle tied with ribbons that she’d made to bless the cows.  She dashed the water against the doorposts and the cold thing leapt upward straddlin’ the door’s beam.  Her husband quick as a flash, rushed beneath and bolted the door shut tight.  He stayed inside in his wife’s arms until the dawn hoping that the tannasg would nae come inside the cottage. They let the candle burn all the night and Jock never again left his house past sunset.”
Claire sighed as Jamie finished speaking. “Did they find the cow?” she queried, keen to know the fate of the lost kine.
With a raised eyebrow he answered, “Oh, aye they did.  The next morning, they found the poor beast wi’ her hooves all clogged wi’ mud and stones. It was staring mad and frothy about the muzzle.  Her sides were heavin’ fit to burst. Jock said that she looked as though she’d been ridden tae Hell and back.”
“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!” Claire exclaimed imagining the visual of what had happened to the poor cow.
Jamie glanced at his wife to see her reaction to his tale.  “Did ye like it?”
“Like it? … I loved it Jamie. It kept me in suspense all the way through.”
“Thank ye Sassenach.  I’m glad ye liked it,” he replied very pleased with himself.
PART 2 … Halloween Addams Family style. 🎃 
“So, what about you Claire? Do ye have a tale tae tell as well?”
“As a matter of fact, I do Jamie, and when I’ve caught my breath, I will tell you something about Halloween from the future. My tale will not be as scary as your story of Jock MacBride though,” she replied with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. “In fact, it is about something that you might find hard to wrap your head around.”
Intrigued with his wife’s words, Jamie sat back in his chair and waited for her to begin. With a curl of his lip and a sparkle in his eye he asked, “And what might that be Sassenach?”
“Television.”
His brow furrowed in thought and Jamie raised an eyebrow a little perplexed as he glanced at Claire. “Television? … Hmmph?” He tapped his fingers against his thigh in concentration and ran the word slowly over his tongue as if savouring a new morsel of information, he didn’t quite know enough about. “Television ye say.”  He looked at Claire again in earnest anticipation and waited for her to explain.
“Oh dear…” she sighed. “Where to begin?”  Collecting her thoughts on how to explain this invention to her husband, Claire finally had an idea.  “Remember when you rescued me from the Witch Trial and I told you I was from the future?”
“Aye, I remember mo ghràidh.”
“Well this is another one of those things from the future too. It is something from my time. You've never heard of it. No one here has, that is except for Bree and Roger.”
He grinned at her statement of the obvious.  “Well then, I may not understand it a bit, not yet, but I trust ye.  I trust yer word; yer heart and there is a truth between us. So ... whatever you tell me ... I will believe ye, Sassenach.  Tell me more.”
Claire bit her lip before she spoke. “Do you also remember the photographs I brought back to show you of Brianna?”
Jamie made a small inarticulate sound, “Aye I remember.”  
He remembered all too well Claire taking a small packet from her clothing, to show him the photographs of their beloved daughter Brianna, a fine boned, and delicate replica of himself.  He looked up at his wife wondering what the correlation may be with the photographs and this television.
“Well television is those pictures brought to life.”
He remembered how he had splayed his hand out over the photographs, with trembling fingers not quite touching the shiny surface. How was it possible that pictures could be brought to life? He was a little perplexed.
“Television is a machine with a small screen that shows moving pictures and sounds.  They were commonplace in many households in Boston during the 60’s and we had one too. The word "television" comes from the words …”
But before she could finish what she wanted to say Jamie butted in with his knowledge of the Greek language.
“Tele is the Greek word for far away, and vision would mean sight.”
A smile softened her lips, “Yes, that’s right.”
He shook his head in disbelief when Claire described something so unfathomable that it was hard to believe some such machine existed. He didn't understand it all, but he listened.   Claire had risked bringing the photographs of Brianna through the stones and thus brought something of the 20th century into the 18th century. However, although still a little mystified, nothing she had told him about the future fazed him now and he believed her despite how inconceivable what she was saying could be.
“Television was used for family entertainment and we would sit around in our parlour and watch the screen.” Claire’s voice was animated when she next spoke.  “There was a program on the television that you would have loved Jamie, called The Addams Family.  Brianna and I loved that show.”
He grinned.  “I would verra much have liked to see this television program too Sassenach.” If they loved it, he knew he would love it too.
“They were not your typical family; they took delight in most of the things of which normal people would be terrified.  They were kooky and eccentric but they were a very close-knit, extended family.”
“Ah, so just like us here on Fraser’s Ridge Sassenach,” he replied giving her a huge, big smile.
“Yes, I guess, but there was one difference though Jamie, they had decidedly macabre interests and supernatural abilities.”
He balked at that. “Oh, indeed they wouldna fit in well in this time then.  People believe in witches and things that go bump in the night, but they wouldna understand them at all.  They would have their heads on a pike before ye could count tae ten.”
Although Claire nodded in agreement at what her husband was saying for that was exactly what had happened to her.  As he spoke, she was momentarily distracted with thoughts of what had happened in Cranesmuir at the Witch Trial when she was tried and convicted of witchcraft.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
People’s superstitions of anything they didn’t quite understand, especially a person like her was met with fear for they thought her a witch. At the trial, the crowd was baying for blood and wanted to burn her at the stake, and had Jamie not rescued her, that would have been her fate. Nonetheless, he was a little skeptical as well because he’d seen the “devil’s mark” on her arm too. He had calmly asked if she was a witch, because what she had told him was far-fetched. His face throughout her admission was inscrutable and he’d sighed, then smiled ruefully down at her. She remembered their conversation well,
“Claire, are ye a witch?”
“I’m not a witch. Do you really believe me, Jamie?”
“Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. But it would ha’ been a good deal easier if you’d only been a witch.”
“And if I were? If you had thought I were a witch? Would you still have fought for me?”
“I would have gone to the stake with you, and to hell beyond, if I must!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Claire? … Claire?” Jamie said a little louder as she had been quiet for so long that he was a little concerned for where her mind must have gone, but on reflection it was probably to the Witch Trial when he’d rescued her and she had told him she was from the future.
“Oh, I’m sorry Jamie, I lost my train of thought there for a moment.”
“Nae matter … So, mo chridhe, ye were saying?”
Claire let her husband’s endearment wash over her. Jamie was always so attuned to her feelings and giving him a tentative smile, continued to explain about the Addams family members. “Their mother and uncle lived with them and their children, plus they had a 7-foot-tall butler …  their man servant called Lurch, and a disembodied hand that lived in a box called Thing.”
Jamie shook his head, as what Claire was saying was becoming more fanciful, but he kept an open mind as she described more.
“The husband, Gomez Addams was an extremely wealthy man and was able to indulge his wife Morticia's every desire, whether it was cultivation of poisonous plants or a candlelit dinner in a graveyard.”
He raised his eyebrow again at this piece of information. “That sounds verra interesting,” he murmured somewhat amazed.
Claire smiled indulgently at her love. “You are very much like him.  He was very romantic and he was madly in love with his wife and loved her to distraction.”
“As do I you, mo ghràidh,” before adding, “I think I should like this Gomez fellow.”
She beamed at him once more as Jamie seemed pleased as punch at what he had just said.  
He then blessed himself.  “A Dhia!  But … I willna have dinner wi’ ye in a graveyard, mo luaidh even wi’ candlelight,” he muttered under his breath. He chuckled at the thought of that idea, especially after having just told her the story of the tannasg who had come out of his tomb.  No, he could not come at doing that.
“I agree. I don’t think I would like to do that either, but Gomez and Morticia did. They also had pet names for each other, Jamie.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His ears pricked up once more when she said this, knowing that his Claire had several endearing names that he called her.  He sighed his voice a little raspy, “Aye, I do that too Sassenach.”
Her smile was soft and dreamy for the loving man she had married, then she told him some extra information. “Despite what I have just said, this television show was very entertaining and so amusing. It had unconventional humour, sex appeal, the breaking and questioning of the conventions of conformity at the time, as well as looking at the world in a unique, offbeat frame of mind.”
“Well then, tell me more mo muirninn. I am an educated man as ye ken, and I can see that perhaps these Addams people were different but nae different from our family. Do they have something tae do wi’ Halloween then?”
“Oh indeed. Halloween was their favourite time of the year and they would bob for crabs instead of apples as most people would do. You see, they were not a conventional family.  They dressed differently to everyone else, they were weird looking and they had peculiar idiosyncrasies.  They even lived near a cemetery at 0001 Cemetery Lane in an ornate, gloomy mansion.”  
Jamie poured himself a whisky this time and laughed as her descriptions of this family were getting more and more unusual.  He refilled Claire’s cup as well and handed it to her, then sat back in his chair to hear more.
“Oh, Jamie I wish that you could have seen it.  You would have loved all the characters but particularly Gomez Addams.  Bree and I would laugh so much. They were so funny.”
Claire paused a little as if thinking about something she remembered then looking at her husband with a mischievous expression on her face asked, “Jamie?  Can you click your fingers?  Like this?” She then demonstrated a click! click! sound.
“I may not be able tae wink, but I can click my fingers ye ken Sassenach.”
She began to set the scene for her tale of the Addams Family. “Well then … Every time I say … da-da-da-da … you click your fingers okay?”
“Okay, I can do that mo nighean donn.”
“I will sing you the theme song that would play when the television show came on screen but I’m going to replace their family name with ours, however, … the da-da-da-da was really played on a harpsichord, but I’m going to improvise.”  
Claire grinned at her love and saw that Jamie was prepared and a little excited to know more of the Halloween tale she was about to unleash on him. “Are ye ready?”
“Always.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!
“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!
“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click
 Claire repeated the chorus … as Jamie was thoroughly enjoying himself while getting into the swing of things with gusto.
 “Da-da-da-da” … click! click!
“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!
“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click
“They're creepy and they're kooky. Mysterious and spooky. They're altogether together ookey. The Fraser Family.
The house is a museum. When people come to see 'em. They really are a scre-am. The Fraser Family.
“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!
Neat
“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!
Sweet
“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click
Petite
So, get a witch's shawl on. A broomstick you can crawl on. We're going to pay a call on. The Fraser Family.
 They both fell back against their chairs laughing out loud as Claire finished the theme song and Jamie clicked the refrain part with enthusiasm.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I see what ye meant earlier Sassenach, so, tell me more about the husband Gomez and his wife Morticia.”
“Gomez was the patriarch of the family, just like you Jamie.  He was a very dashing man who loved to wear pinstriped suits.”
She saw his puzzled look and explained.  “Clothing was very different in the 60’s to what it is now, but he was as dashing as you were in Paris.  Suits are a two-piece garment, long breeks and a jacket cut to the hip, made from the same material and worn together.  Gomez Addams smoked cigars and had a very quirky moustache. I’ll ask Brianna to draw you some pictures of the family if you like.”
Jamie nodded in reply to her statement for he loved the drawings Brianna did, and although he could picture them in his imagination, seeing a picture of the family would make them really come to life.
Claire knew that her husband would relish this next piece of information.  “He adored Morticia and would call her Cara Mia, Querida, Querida Mia, Tish, or Cara Bella.”
“Hmmph? … Querida is Spanish for "the woman I desire.”  I can relate tae that Sassenach,” Jamie replied with a sharp look that made her heart skip a little beat.   “I see now why ye think we are alike,” he proclaimed with a penetrating gleam in his eye. “And his wife?”
“She was very beautiful with long flowing, straight, raven coloured hair. Morticia was described as a witch; she was slim, with extremely pale skin.”
“A witch ye say? … a Dhia Claire! … It’s just like people called you because of yer healing powers.  I am seeing more parallels here … Querida,” he added in that sexy voice that always thrilled her.
Claire nearly lost her train of thought when her husband called her Querida and she bit her lip in response to the endearment once more. “Stop interrupting me James Fraser, I’m trying to tell you my Halloween story.”
“Duilich … Sorry Sassenach, but I am just imagining the things ye are saying just like you saw on the … television. Tell me more about this Morticia Addams.”
“Her black dress matched her hair and it was skin tight and figure hugging with a fringe of octopus-like cloth "tentacles" at the lower hem that pooled around her feet.”
“That’s quite an outfit you have on there lady?” one of the robbers said to her Jamie.
“I always wear this for Halloween.”
“Looks great.  Real good for Halloween,” he replied thinking that she was wearing a costume but it was her actual clothing.
“Is that so?  Anything else …Tish?” Jamie grinned cheekily doing a mental checklist of the romantic names Gomez had called his wife.
“Morticia could easily excite her husband by speaking French and other languages. Her pet names for him were Bubula, Mon Cherie and Querido.”
“Ah,  Querido, the Spanish word for "the man I desire."  I like that too Claire.  Ye can call me that at any time my … Cara Mia.”
She blushed a little more at another one of Morticia’s pet names her husband had called her and felt a hot flush warm her cheeks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So, Sassenach tell me about the Halloween story ye and Brianna loved watching on yer television about the Addams Family.”
“Well Gomez received a new carving knife in the mail and used it to carve out a pumpkin with the face of his Uncle Fester on it for Halloween. They would put a candle in it to light it up at night and the face would shine through the holes in the Jack-o-lantern. This is very common in the future and people in Boston would put their carved pumpkins on their doorsteps at Halloween.  It was a fun thing to do and they would also decorate their houses with ghoulish things.”
“‘Tis similar to Samhain too Claire but people use turnips. I guess a pumpkin would be easier tae carve though,” he proclaimed. “Tell me more.”
“Their children, Wednesday and Pugsley, dressed up and went trick or treating with their Grandmama for sweets and treats that they would collect from their neighbours.  While they were out two robbers who were escaping from the police … took refuge in the Addams family garden.  Thinking they were their Halloween guests, they were invited inside for a Halloween party but unfortunately, they tried to steal money from the family instead of enjoying their hospitality. When they saw inside their spooky house they exclaimed,  
“You folks sure don’t hold back on Halloween.”
“It’s our favourite holiday.”
Then Gomez said, “Gentlemen come here and I’ll give you a treat.  Open your bag. They didn’t want to show him what was in there because it had the stolen money in it.”
“What happened next Claire?”  Jamie asked thinking this story of the future was a little bizarre but extremely interested in her Halloween story of a show she had watched on television.
“Now, now, there’s nothing to be scared of, I think it’s kind of heart-warming that adults get into the Halloween spirit, and when Gomez opened their bag, he found it was full of money, and he assumed that their neighbours had given them cash for a Trick or Treat. He took out several hundreds of dollars from an open drawer and gave it to them. The robbers’ eyes widened with surprise and decided to hatch a plan to steal all the money and their valuables from them.”
“Did the Addams’ ken they were planning tae steal their valuables?”
“No, they were in the kitchen getting refreshments, and whilst Morticia was stirring the punch, her husband Gomez became quite amorous towards her.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This story now was just getting more fascinating for James Fraser by the minute.  He smiled at his Claire and asked a little provocatively, “Tell me more Sassenach. What did he do … in the kitchen?”
She was a little tongue tired especially with the way the man she desired was looking at her, but she ventured on regardless to how her insides were all fluttering with tingling feelings that she felt to the very core of her being. When Jamie was in this amorous mood, she was putty in his hands. How was she ever going to tell him what happened next, she thought, but she did.
“When Morticia called him “Bubula … darling” … he took her hand in both of his and kissed it before caressing each finger with his lips beginning at the little pinkie, then the ring finger, and then each other finger after that, until her whole hand had been caressed. It was something he always did.”
Jamie’s eyes were smouldering.  “How did she react tae that ... Querida?” he murmured with a little raspy grunt.
She took a deep breath before continuing. “Morticia swooned at the attention her husband was giving her and replied … When we are together darling, every night is Halloween.”  
Claire was starting to swoon a little herself. She was feeling a little hot and bothered, and bit her lip as Jamie’s gaze washed over her with intent, but she continued with her story.  Her husband knew exactly what he was doing with the way he was looking at her, and he couldn’t be more interested in what would Gomez Addams do next. Jamie hung on each word that came out of her mouth.
“Go on … Sass-en-ach.”
Her mouth was getting a little dry, so Claire took a wee sip of her whisky to also compose herself before she went on with her tale.
“Then while his arm was around her waist, and holding out her arm, Gomez slowly ran his lips up the length of it, kissing across the back of her neck … her shoulder, then down her back and …”
“Aye?  And … then what?”
“The punch exploded!”
Jamie couldn’t help himself.  He was not expecting Claire to say that, and doubling over in mirth, he burst out laughing as too did she.  The happy, raucous sound echoed in his throat and their combined laughter loudly resonated in the room.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
However, James Fraser suddenly stopped laughing.  
Looking up, Claire saw the explicit intent in her husband’s eyes that always made her catch her breath. She watched; eyes fixated on her virile man as he rose from his chair and made his way over to where she was sitting. Jamie was now standing in front of her chair.  He reached out his hand towards her, then placing her hand in his grasp, he slowly pulled Claire up and out of the chair until she was but a hair’s breath away from him.  She could feel the solidness of her husband’s chest.
“So, mo nighean donn, what happened tae the robbers?”
“I … ahh, … I … don’t re-member,” she mumbled, tripping over her words as Jamie’s penetrating gaze held her eyes captive with a look that had her feeling quite breathless.
Claire could feel the warmth of his breath as her love quietly spoke seductively against her lips. “I see … Well then ... What were ye sayin’ about what Gomez Addams was doing tae his wife … Sass-en-ach?”
Lost in the suggestive look that Jamie was bestowing on her, Claire Fraser found it difficult to breathe let alone speak as she felt the gentle but scorching touch of lips brushing against her own.
“Ahhh … Ahhh …” she murmured incoherently. “He kissed … her hand.”
“What? … Like this?”
Placing his arm around Claire’s waist, Jamie held out her right arm and proceed to place warm, fervent kisses to the top of her hand before trailing them down to her little pinkie finger.
“Ye-yes…” she purred closing her eyes in the bliss of his seduction.
Soft, warm lips lathed the small digit before continuing on to her ring finger.  His lips started at the tip of her fingernail drawing it into his mouth before releasing her finger. His tongue then skimmed up and over her knuckle to where his wedding ring, a silver band with a small thistle bloom carved in the centre of each intertwined Highland pattern, lay nestled against her skin. Jamie’s lips hovered over the ring, stopping as his eyes observed his token of love on his Sassenach's finger. Jamie hesitated for a moment, then bent his head over it, his lips barely brushing over her knuckles once more before they touched the silver ring and stopped there for one moment of remembrance.
At the same time, suddenly Claire’s thoughts returned to that day in the hospital recalling when Frank had tried to twist it off her finger and the panic that she’d felt.  The guttural sound she’d made was heart wrenching and she’d jerked her hand away and cradled it, fisted, beneath her breast cupped in her left hand.
“I never took it off …  mon Cherie,” she whispered, the love in her voice caressing Jamie’s ears as much as his lips had caressed her hand.
This ring was special to her and she had never taken it off even over the twenty years they had been parted.  During those long, aching years of separation, it was one of her very, very few tangible reminders of Jamie. The Latin phrase that he’d engraved inside her wedding ring was a brief quotation from a love song by Catullus, and she had recited it so many, many times just thinking of her love when she closed her eyes at night.
Jamie’s lips found and touched the silver ring once more before his tongue slid from one side of the ring to the other. His ring which she wore on this finger since the day they had wed was special to him. It was his ultimate love token to the woman who had stolen his heart from the very moment he had laid eyes on her at Samhain time.  This ring spoke to him and was a reaffirmation of how solid was their love and how strong their bond was.
Her eyes were closed, and Claire knew without looking, that Jamie’s were, as well.
“Da Mi Basia Mille, diende centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum …” he murmured, smiling before opening his eyes to stare piercingly at his love as he translated the Latin.  “Then let amorous kisses dwell on our lips, begin and tell, a thousand and a hundred score, a hundred …”
Claire’s eyes blurred with tears. Placing her hand at the nape of Jamie’s neck, she fisted it in his glorious red hair, slowly twisting the curls between her fingers. "Dein mille altera … then give me a thousand more,” she uttered breathlessly clearing her throat.  
He brushed away the tear that had trickled down her cheek with his finger, but two more welled up and overflowed; she felt them, full and round, roll down her cheeks.
This poignant romantic moment of remembrance between them was suddenly so overwhelming, that she felt her eyes well up once again. The reality of the power of their love and connection made the fictional one between Gomez Addams and his wife Morticia pale in comparison.  Perhaps the show she had watched when back in the future was a reminder to her of who she missed terribly and how much she missed so achingly the sensuous kisses that her beloved husband had given her.  Suddenly, she was overcome with emotion as Jamie continued to display his amorous kisses to her hand.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
However, he soon sensed that his Claire was feeling wistful.
“Cl-aire?” Jamie’s voice was gentle and his utterance of her name, spoken in tenderness, nearly made her break down again.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Are ye okay mo ghràidh?  What’s the matter?  Am I not doin’ this right, like Gomez Addams?”
“Oh, Jamie, … You are doing this … so much better … than he ever could my love.”
Slowly he drew her close to him, taking both hands and holding their linked fingers just under his breast to where Claire could feel his heart beating in his chest. Jamie held his love close for a quiet moment and kissed the top of her head as it lay nestled against him.  Placing his finger under her chin, he lifted Claire’s face up to his, then cupping her beautiful cheeks with exquisite gentleness, he set his mouth on hers.
“I like yer Halloween story verra much mo ghràidh, in fact I like it sae much that I think we could … continue it in our bedroom.  What say ye … Querida Mia?” … He kissed his wife’s cheek … “Cara Bella,” … and then her other special name … “Sor-cha,” … Jamie muttered against Claire’s lips before trailing them down her throat in an assault that had her losing consciousness in his arms.
“Per-haps … we … could …” was her garbled reply spoken against his hot mouth as she wound her arms around her husband’s neck. Her eyes glazed over with emotion for this wonderful man as she succumbed to the sweet surrender of his embrace.  Jamie’s eyes too were shining with passion as he lifted Claire up into his arms and carried his love into their bedroom.
“This has been a verra good night Sassenach and one I think could be repeated each Samhain.”
“I approve … Querido,” she murmured seductively against his ear and cupping his cheek with her hand.
Touching foreheads, Jamie’s lips hovered over hers and he smiled with such a wicked look that Claire couldn’t help but smile too knowing that whatever came out of her husband’s mouth would be something profound.  However, she was not expecting his reply with the phrase Morticia Addams had spoken on the television program.
“When we are together darling … every night is Halloween. Now, I want to take ye to bed, and I mean to spend the rest of the night thinking what to do to ye once I’ve got ye there.”  
Then James Fraser proceeded to demonstrate the many ways that this Fraser husband showed his wife how he would seduce her every night … but twice on Samhain and Halloween.
 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The End
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 The Addams Family Theme - Vic Mizzy
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ5IWRz78DY
 Halloween with the Addams family (full episode)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LavY2K3-Vhs
 Endearment Translations:
Claire Fraser
mo chridhe - my heart
mo muirninn - my darling
mo luaidh - my darling, my dear.
a leannan - sweetheart, or beautiful woman
Sorcha – brightness
mo ghràidh – darling
mo nighean donn - my brown-haired lass
 Morticia Addams
Cara Mia - my beloved
Cara Bella – pretty face
Querida - the woman I desire.
Querida Mia – beloved
Tish – strong willed
 Gomez Addams
Bubula – sweetheart
Mon Cherie - dear heart, my dear love.
Querido - dear
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yahnnieee · 3 years
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Summary: Rianne Gallagher who is the younger sister of Aidan Gallagher and is a new actress gets her first role with Louis Partridge, soon she started falling for Louis. Will she be able to hold her feelings or something new will start?
-Part 1-
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-Rianne
"Rianne!!!!" Someone called out my name from downstairs. I walked out of my room while looking at my phone and started walking towards our living room where my brother, Aidan was sitting watching his own film, The Umbrella Academy.
"Yes?" I asked walking towards the couch plopping myself next to him, laying my head in Aidan's Shoulder.
"Well... I think you'll have your new role, as Brianna Wang in ' Princess's Secret Side' alongside Louis Partridge and some other actors" He said scrolling down in Insta. I quickly looked at him with wide eyes and disbelief.
"Are you serious?" I asked holding my scream.
"Yes I'm serious, you wanna see who the guy your going to be acting with?" He asked looking up at me. I opened my phone and showed him my wallpaper which was Louis himself.
"Is this him?" I asked showing him my wallpaper.
"You like him?" Ai asked, looking back at his phone.
"I don't... I just find him Handsome" I said my face flushing a light red.
"Rianne... Your my sister you can't lie to me" Ai said cocking an eyebrow.
"Shut up Ai!!" I whined and started walking towards the stairs again.
"You'll be flying to London tomorrow, pack your things, Ian" Ai shouted before I fully got to the very top of the stair case.
"K" I simply answered and went to my room. I got inside and started jumping and squealing, I have a big crush on Louis since I was like 12 and now I'm 16 it's crazy! I went to my closet to pack my things.
'Just don't make it obvious that you like Louis or We're gonna be in trouble'
-Next Day-
I woke up pretty early around 5 am since, I couldn't really sleep last night, I got up and went to the bathroom to get ready. After taking a bath I went to my closet and picked out a black plain crop top and denim shorts and a oversized polo that I put over the outfit. I pick out some white d'lites with 'D'lites' written with gold glitters. I looked at myself in a full body mirror and admired myself. After a while my brother called me to get downstairs. I went downstairs and asked what he needs.
"You done?" He asked looking at me, I nodded and he walked to my room to get my luggages. Our parents where outside in our car waiting for us. Ai came down with my luggages, while I was carrying my purse. We went outside to our car, Ai was going to London too since he is part of the cast too. He got inside after putting his luggage in the back, he sat next to me and we started driving to the airport, after what seems like a few minutes we stopped with a halt. I looked out of the window, looking at the airport. I saw guys wearing all black they seemed to be waiting for someone. Ai got out and so I did too. The guys in black came closer to us and said:
"Hi Miss Rianne, and sir Aidan. We'll be your bodyguard from here" One of the guys said.
"I'm Leo, this is Carson. I'm going to be Miss Rianne's bodyguard. We should be moving if fans see you they'll go wild so we better get going" Leo explained while Carson was taking our luggages out of the car. Our parents went out of the car and hugged both me and Ai. We said our goodbyes and walked towards the baggage check. After a while some fans saw Ai and asked for pics and some even asked who I was. We got to the departure and started walking towards a private plane, where flight attendants and other man in black were standing, we walked passed the Flight attendants and inside the plane.
We got comfortable and the plane soon departed..
-After 10hrs-
I was woken by Ai shaking me, I opened my eyes to look at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"What?" I asked raising a brow.
"Get ready we're here" Ai said while looking at his phone, I shrug my shoulders and went to look in the window. London was truly beautiful and romantic, I would wanna stay here even after our filming. After a few more minutes we heard the captain speak.
"This is your captain speaking, we'll be landing in 10 minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts" I fastened mine and breathed deeply. After 10 mins we got to London in peace. The flight attendants helped us with our luggages and we went out of the plane, many bodyguards went around me and Ai, assuming the fans know we're going to be here so the went crazy... Apparently.
-1 hour later-
We walked inside the airport hearing fans screams and yells. We walked pass the crowd struggling after a few but was able to get there. We got inside the limo and to the hotel were gonna be staying with the other casts.
We were now in our hotel rooms resting it was 11 pm here in London and tommorow were going to be meeting the rest of the casts. I went to bed to get ready to sleep, I laid my torso against the headboard, I looked at Louis' Insta seeing he posted a mirror pic and selfie in Insta. I smiled and played some calm music and put my phone down. And closed my eyes, letting sleep take me.
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aion-rsa · 3 years
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Synchronic Ending Makes Sci-Fi Movie a Modern Classic
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This article contains Synchronic spoilers.
“Time is the school in which we learn / Time is the fire in which we burn,” wrote poet Delmore Schwartz decades ago, and if any genre filmmakers take that couplet to heart, it’s Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead. The self-contained directing/writing/producing/acting pair have made four feature films to date, each of them dealing in some way with the passage of time, the volatility of memory, and the warping of both.
Their fourth feature, last year’s Synchronic—which makes its Netflix debut this week—is the duo’s most mature, fully developed, and coherent film yet, while also their most polished and accessible in a mainstream sense. It continues the filmmakers’ exploration of the themes they’ve touched on before, but adds a new dimension in terms of the way the story’s main character responds to the choices placed in front of him at the movie’s climax.
On the road to that mind-bending finale, Anthony Mackie stars as Steve, a New Orleans paramedic who works the overnight shift alongside his best friend Dennis (Jamie Dornan). Steve is also close with Dennis’ wife Tara (Katie Aselton) and teen daughter Brianna (Ally Ioannides), despite being resolutely single, perhaps alcoholic and suddenly aware that he has an inoperable brain tumor and six weeks to live.
The two friends begin to respond to a series of bizarre, gruesome incidents at work, discovering —are somehow tied to a new designer drug called Synchronic, which is making its way into parties and drug dens. When Brianna disappears after possibly taking the drug herself, Steve decides to find out exactly where Synchronic comes from and what it does. It’s an investigation that propels Steve on a reality-shattering journey.
As it turns out, Synchronic affects the pineal gland in the brain and allows users to travel backwards in time, but they have no control over where they end up and their destination is only dictated by the place in which they’re physically located when they take the drug. Desperate to find Brianna for his anguished friends before his own time is up, Steve begins to experiment with the drug to see if he can navigate through time, without knowing if he can even bring her back.
Working with bankable Hollywood actors for the first time, the filmmakers address themes here that have cropped up in their films repeatedly, including that of addiction on top of stories about memory and time.
Their earlier films focused on the fool’s pursuit of trying to escape from real life—through drugs, isolation and storytelling as in Resolution, through reckless love in Spring, and through existence in a controlled, unhealthy environment as in The Endless. But Synchronic explores the notion that one can spiritually come back from that sort of doomed escape (even if it involves time travel) by caring less about one’s own impulses than the well-being of those around us.
Nowhere is this clearer than in Steve’s character arc and the way that his journey concludes in the film’s ending. When we first meet Steve, he is dissolute and lonely despite his close relationship with Dennis and family. He drinks, is quite possibly alcoholic, and wanders through a number of pointless one-night stands. He and Dennis, who’s just barely surviving a crumbling marriage, numb themselves to the day-to-day monotony of their lives and the horrors they see on the job. Even the news that Steve may just have a short time left to live because of an inoperable tumor on his pineal gland doesn’t seem to rattle him that much.
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It’s only Brianna’s shocking disappearance, combined with the information that his condition may actually make him capable of saving her, which sparks something in Steve. As we learn from the scientist who developed Synchronic, the drug affects perception through the pineal gland, allowing the user to experience time all at once instead of in a linear, forward-moving line. Since our pineal glands age along with the rest of us, it’s more difficult for adults to experience this. They can only travel to the past in a non-corporeal form.
But the younger one is, and the less “calcified” one’s pineal gland is, the more one can actually, physically venture into the past. Ironically, the tumor on Steve’s pineal gland has prevented the organ from aging in the same way, allowing him, even as an adult, to move physically into the past. Brianna has done the same thing but has no way back without another dose of Synchronic.
After buying up the last of the local Synchronic supply and using much of it for his experiments, Steve has just two pills left. He is able to deduce where in the past Brianna went and takes one pill to get there. As long as the person taking the pill is physically holding onto another living thing in the past or present, that living thing, animal or human, can travel with them as well. Steve’s plan is to find Brianna, take the last pill and hold her so that they can both return to the present.
The scheme works at first: Steve finds Brianna, although they appear to have transported to the midst of some kind of Civil War battle zone on the New Orleans waterfront, and gives her the last pill. A local, deranged woman approaches Steve and Brianna with a gun. As Steve moves toward her to protect Brianna, they lose physical contact and Brianna returns to the present, leaving Steve trapped in the past.
We only glimpse Steve one more time, as a “ghost” in the present, but it’s long enough for him to see Dennis and Brianna reunited, and for Dennis to realize the enormity of what his friend has done. With Dr. Kermani having committed suicide after destroying the rest of the remaining drug, there is no way for anyone to journey again to the past and retrieve Steve. And with the latter stuck in a time period and place where it doesn’t look like medical treatments are exactly top-notch, it’s unlikely that he’ll be able to live very long with the tumor still in his head.
But that doesn’t seem very important to Steve when we last see him. While his own life is now forfeit, he has taken action to change the lives of others around him. He has saved Brianna and countless others from the terrifying effects of Synchronic, and he has given Dennis a newfound appreciation for his family that will hopefully bring them back together.
While we ultimately can’t control time—“the fire in which we burn”—and while life is random, dangerous and unkempt no matter where or when we are, it is up to us to take what small actions we can to somehow make existence just a little bit less cruel. Steve has learned that lesson, even at the presumed cost of his own life. How many of us would do the same?
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The profound nature of its themes, coupled with the imaginative narrative and unique imagery in which those themes are staged, is what makes Synchronic, in our opinion, one of the best genre films of recent vintage. It’s a cult sci-fi/horror classic that will, if you pardon the expression, stand the test of time.
Synchronic is now streaming on Netflix.
The post Synchronic Ending Makes Sci-Fi Movie a Modern Classic appeared first on Den of Geek.
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drabrianndelgado · 4 years
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Brianna Shay DelGado...
A hard worker, medical student, and broke...
She worked several jobs to pay for college...specifically because her parents died off, her sister vanished, and...rent was due.
She rushes to get ready for work, rushes to get scrubs on for school, and rushes to each class. She played ‘Superman’ in the night club’s bathrooms to change from school uniform to bar outfits.
It was a Wednesday, so she had to wear sleazy clothes for this bar. She felt objectified, but the money was amazing!
Her hair was straight, and tucked behind one of her ears. Her cat eye makeup was flawless, and the golden glitter eyeshadow was placed perfectly and matched her skin well. She hated wearing fishnets, but she loved how she torn them up a little and had on her combat boot heels.
She wore camouflaged short shorts as overalls, a black crop top with her red laced bra showing over the neckline. Her golden pendant that had a peace sign had a long chain attached to it, and her tattoos had body glitter decorated all over them.
Brianna had a few scientific tattoos, her favorite (and first) one was serotonin and dopamine on her chest.
The club was packed that night and she was stressing about the midterm on Monday. There was no way she had time to study. Her life fucking sucked.
Hours after serving drinks and rushing to guests for their snack orders, she had a moment to herself finally and snuck outside for a quick cigarette.
Sitting on the bottom step to the streets of Downtown Gotham, she felt a presence. Lighting her cigarette, to took a drag and looked up. “I’m sorry...am I in your way?” She started to scoot over for a rather interesting looking man.
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Would you mind writing something around Fergus coming back to Lallybroch and his/Claire's comments that he was meant to be with the Frasers? Feeling robbed that we didn't get to see that or an arrival at the house in the show. Thank you!
The Tagalong - Part Nineteen
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen
*****************************************************
Fergus vacillated with each step he took toward Lallybroch. Should he just go back to the stones and try to get back to Mother Claire and Brianna? Would he even be able to get back if he tried? 
What would he tell Jenny and Ian when he appeared on their doorstep? Would they even allow him to stay without Milord or Mother Claire there? He would be just another mouth to feed and he knew from Mother Claire and some reading just how bad things got in the Highlands after the Rising failed. But he had two hands and his time in that prosperous future had given him strength and health and a bit more learning than he’d had before. He could make an argument that he would earn his keep. 
But what would he tell them of Mother Claire? They were sure to ask. Should he tell them about Brianna? How would he explain why they hadn’t heard from them in the last two years? 
He doubled back twice but his fear of what might happen if he touched the stones for a third time turned him right back around again. 
When he crested a hill and spotted Lallybroch nestled quietly in the valley below, his legs went out from under him and he spent at least an hour just staring at it, telling himself he would figure it out, whatever else happened. He would make Mother Claire and Milord proud. 
The women of the house were in the yard managing the laundry with several children playing around them. Fergus paused outside the gate, watching. He knew how quickly the little ones could grow, having watched how fast Brianna went from sleeping most of the day to crawling and finally walking and talking, following him around and toddling to keep up with him. Maggie was tall enough to help her mother stir the steaming kettle of clothes while Kitty wandered around waving soiled hosiery above her head. 
A cry came from a basket on the ground and Fergus watched as Jenny bent to pick up and soothe a baby who couldn’t be older than a month or two. 
Kitty suddenly stopped her dancing and scurried to her mother’s side, tugging Jenny’s skirts and pointing to where Fergus was concealed among the shadows. He’d been spotted. 
Fortifying himself with a deep breath, he stepped into the light and self-consciously walked toward the group of women. 
Jenny muttered something in gaidhlig under her breath and set the baby back in its basket with shaking hands. Then she shooed Kitty away from her skirts and strode forward to stand before Fergus as he came to a halt. 
“Mistress Murray,” he croaked, offering her a small bow. “You may not remem—”
“Fergus,” she breathed, shock causing her voice to crack. She lunged and pulled him to her breast, pinning his arms to his sides as she crushed him in her embrace. 
“Mistress,” he murmured, surprised himself by the greeting. He hadn’t expected—
Then she released him and held him away from her at arm’s reach, her eyes taking in the new inches, the cropped if dusty hair, the strange clothes and shoes. Her hands went to her hips as she pulled herself up and began to scold. “Where in heaven’s name have ye been, lad? Jamie was beside himself when he came round and heard ye’d no shown up. We thought ye were deid!” 
That was more along the lines of the reaction he’d expected. 
“For him to lose you on top of losin’ Claire,” Jenny continued to lecture, but Fergus jolted at the mention of Claire, part of what Jenny said clicking into place. 
“Milord? Milord is alive?” he sputtered. 
“Aye, lad. And no thanks to you for it. He was in a bad way when he arrived here after the fightin’ was through and it was all I could do to keep him from slippin’ away on me and joinin’ the lot of ye we believed were gone and buried.”
“Where is Milord? I must have words with him. There is much he should know,” Fergus babbled excitedly. Just as the stones had brought him to Mother Claire so she wouldn’t be alone while she carried Brianna, they must have brought him back so he might tell Milord about the family that had survived and thrived despite his greatest fears. 
“I’ll send word to wee Jamie in the field to steal away and tell my brother he’s needed at the house as soon as he feels it’s safe. It’ll no be till dark at least so best get ye in the house, washed up, fed and rested,” Jenny insisted. “I s’pose it’ll be best to wait and make ye tell yer tale once rather’n tire ye wi’ tellin’ it to ever’one ye see.”
Fergus might have tried arguing but his stomach grumbled at Jenny’s mention of food, so she refused to be put off her plan. 
He let them lead him inside and ate the food Jenny set in front of him, pushing from his mind all he’d learned of the deprivation that struck after the Rising. A stream of people came through to see him and welcome him back while he ate—some he recognized, but there were several new faces as well. 
Jenny rattled on telling him of what had passed at Lallybroch since he had ridden away to join the Bonnie Prince’s army. The potato harvest had yielded more and more each year, which was a relief since they had lost more and more of their other crops, both to poor conditions and army raids. The men Jamie had sent home ahead of Culloden had arrived safely but many drifted in and out of hiding whenever the soldiers passed through. More of the tenants had been forced to abandon their crofts and some had fled to Edinburgh or Glasgow in the hopes of finding work. 
“And… Milord? How did he make his way home? From how he spoke when I saw him last… he did not mean to leave the battlefield,” Fergus inquired, cautiously. 
“He didna leave of his own power,” Jenny said, sitting at the table to nurse the babe from the basket along with his twin sister. “He took a nasty wound across his leg and near bled out but somehow he was pulled free alive, packed in a wagon, and sent here. Fever nearly killed him after that but we pulled him through it. He’s… he’s no been the same… no wi’out Claire. Keeps hidden and away from the house most of the time. He’s a price on his head again. Hunts and traps a bit, brings it back to share. Can go weeks wi’out seein’ him in summer. Stays in the priest hole more in the winter—my parents would never forgive me did I let him freeze to death in a cave.”
Fergus pushed his empty plate aside, watching as Jenny rearranged the baby in her arms, wiping his face clean. The baby yawned, emitting a squeak. A moment later, Fergus lost the fight against a yawn of his own. 
“I’ll show ye to a bed. Ye’d best get what rest ye can ‘fore nightfall. Jamie’ll have plenty of questions for ye to answer, and what he doesna ask, ye can be sure I will.”
*****************************************************
It was twilight and Claire was struggling to carry a slumbering Brianna and keep an exhausted Roger moving forward when a car came driving along the road. It’s headlights were dim and it took Claire a moment to realize what it was, causing her to jump out of the way at the last minute, startling Brianna awake and jerking Roger from his daze. Luckily, the car was moving at a slower pace than most vehicles traveling that road did (perhaps because of the limited light coming from its covered headlights). 
It slowed further when it noticed their movement, pulling up along the side of the road where Claire was suddenly struggling to calm Brianna. 
“Do ye need a lift to town?” the driver asked. “Ye ought not be walkin’ the road this time of day and ye ought to be indoors after nightfall wi’ the blackout restrictions.”
Roger looked up at Claire. 
“Yes, thank you. Is there an inn that might have a room for us tonight? Our vehicle broke down a ways back and we’ve been walking for a while,” Claire lied.
“Aye. I ken a place’ll take ye. Can put in a call to have someone out to tend yer car but it’ll no be done till it’s light again,” the man told her, reaching across to unlock the passenger door. 
“Oh, I can make the necessary calls,” Claire told him, ushering Roger into the car. “Thank you though. We just need a place to sleep and we’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
“As ye say ma’am.”
Within an hour, Brianna was bathed and in bed. Roger, too, had had a quick wash and was resting while Claire inventoried her supplies. There would be time in the morning to restock a few things.
“Where’ll we go to find Fergus?” Roger asked, watching Claire. 
She began repacking her bag. “We’re going back to Craig na Dun.”
Roger took an unsteady breath before continuing, “And what will we do when we get there?”
“It’s apparent Fergus didn’t follow you to this time… so we must follow him wherever he landed.”
“I’m comin’ with ye? Ye’re no takin’ me back home?” 
Claire looked up and her heart squeezed tightly at the fear and disappointment in Roger’s voice. She left her things half packed, circling the bed to kneel beside the low settee where Roger lay. 
“I’m so sorry, Roger… I can’t take you back. I don’t know that I can make more than one trip more through the stones. I can’t explain why or how… but I think if I try too many times—”
Roger blinked and nodded. “I ken,” he told her. 
“I promised your father I wouldn’t leave you alone,” she said. “And I can’t leave Fergus alone wherever he is. So you’ll have to come with me and we’ll have to figure out our way whenever that may be. Is that alright with you?”
Roger sniffed but nodded again then closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. 
She brushed some hair away from his face before pushing back to her feet and going back to the bed where Brianna slept and their supplies were half packed. She knew Roger was trying to keep the noise down while he wept and her heart went out to him. 
The poor boy had lost both his parents in the war and now he was losing the only family he had left. It wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t think of any other way forward. Sending him alone and hoping he ended up in the right place was out of the question. Each time she’d passed through the stones, the voices and screams she heard in that between place had gotten louder, more forlorn, like they were calling her to join them. She wouldn’t leave Roger to navigate that space between on his own—she would spend the rest of her days haunted by the fear his voice had gone to join the others. 
So she would bring him with her and Brianna. And there was only one place she could think of where Fergus might have ended up. 
She just hoped that the next time she touched the stone and heard those voices, Fergus’ voice wouldn’t be one of the ones she heard trapped and calling her. 
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