guys I’ve just made my best uquiz yet, you can find out what gay disaster from my wip you are (link in the reblog) please take it.
…also I forgot the other tusk.
Is it even a tusk.
Chaos God Jaskier strikes again.
bg practice ft. the boys. getting along bc yes. also trigonometry
The Other Side | Outlander Fanfiction
Chapter 3 | Visitors
Another hour passed in a blur. Jamie must have dismissed the hiker again (or perhaps he’d simply run away from the madman and his just-as-mad wife in terror), as Claire couldn’t remember bidding him farewell or even watching him leave. She also had no memory of Jamie guiding her back to their small clearing or sitting her on the mossy log.
“Drink, Sassenach,” Jamie said, raising the bladder to her lips and tilting her head back. The cool liquid running down her throat helped revive her from the dense fog that had enveloped her mind. Nodding, she grabbed the bottle for herself and drank heavily.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered as she finished, handing it back to Jamie who sat squatted down in front of her, his hands resting on her knees.
“Why, mo chridhe?” he asked, surprised.
Claire shook her head. “For…disappearing like that. I just…that was a shock.”
**Chapter 6 coming TOMORROW!! Are you caught up yet? Get reading!**
another excerpt! don’t expect me to post anything writing related for the next like, two weeks or something now. please.
Scars, they say. I have scars, as if it is something to be proud of.
I have scars too, I want to say, but all I do is fold my hands in my lap and inspect my hands as I have done a thousand times over. They’re nothing. They’re me.
There’s one particularly ugly one across my left calf, from when I was a restless child and scratched at night. My skin wasn’t enough to hold me, and more than once did I bleed out on crisp white sheets.
A bandit’s axe here, and wolf’s teeth there. But no one is ever proud to bear scars of their own doing.
It makes me wonder what I’m doing in a tavern in the first place.
i am a serious writer, this is my serious placeholder dialogue
good evening to bisexual dead guys, an angry lesbian ballerina whose spirit animal is probably a snake, her cottagecore wife who will murder you in your sleep and then go bake some cupcakes, the clueless dancer whose boyfriend isn’t actually in love with, the lovely little enby who gets drunk with said boyfriend, and said boyfriend who was actually the repressed gay who was in love with his dead best friend and decided to go flying off the roof of the bolshoi.
Seratonin said no, who will I vent fic tonight >:)
a wip i shall Never Finish