#;Mod MBD

[no-tengo-ojos]

Noel Gallagher just slagged off my favourite band because they're friends with Damon Albarn and he was on their 2024 Glasto set and made pro-palestinian statements. I'm not surprised but still disappointed

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter Nine. Week 5.

Sorry that it’s been some time, hopefully this wee chapter will help to guide me back on track <3 MBD

--

Shielded: Week FIVE. Interlude:

After a quiet few days Jamie noticed a marked improvement in Claire’s mood. She still seemed tired but he’d stayed around for most of the weekend to ensure she had someone to reach out to should the nightmares rise up and render her sleepless again. But they appeared to have abated ...for the meantime.

She certainly didn’t rise, eyes rimmed red after shedding one too many tears. Which was a positive.

Though he wanted to, he didn’t instigate any further physical contact. The hug, in fact, had remained unmentioned. Clearly it had made an impression, it had opened the door, figuratively, for their heart to heart but distance had immediately been restored and he didn’t wish to press it any further for the meantime.

It felt good to know something about her, a part of her old self that she had been comfortable enough to reveal to him. They certainly had plenty of weeks to go, plenty of time for more for him to learn more. She was somewhat of an enigma, still, but her walls had begun to crumble.

Under the circumstances he knew their bond would strengthen. It was only natural for two humans in close confines to grow closer but having attempted, unsuccessfully, to downplay his own feelings he had finally come to admit (only to himself) that his blossoming feelings were growing into something more than platonic.

As he ate the porridge he’d heated in the microwave he caught sight of the lunch she’d made and left for him on the side and smiled shyly. Though he could be seen to be reading too much into it, Claire had started making his midday meals more elaborate -and- she’d started adding a dram for him too. Whether she knew it or not, she was settling into Highland life. It was as if she was always supposed to have landed here.

--

“Do ye have the flask? Sat on small bales, Jamie sat with his nearest neighbour sharing their lunch with their faces to the rare midday sun.

“Oh, aye.”

“Who is she?” Rupert joked, nudging his oldest friend and taking a sip of his hot drink. “Clearly something is on yer mind. I’ve never seen ye so...flustered.”

“How do you ken it’s a she?” He quipped back neither confirming or denying his friend's suspicions.

“There’s something going on. We’ve known one another since we were bairns, running around the place in our clouts wi’ our mothers on our tails - no’ many can read ye, Jamie Fraser, but I can see it plain on yer face. Where did you meet her?”

He didn’t have much time to think how to explain Claire without giving away too much away but there was a certain amount of relief in the idea that he could confide in someone else about his growing feelings. So far everything he’d been feeling had been kept to himself, he certainly couldn’t share them with Claire - she’d run a mile, or hide away. It wasn’t fair to put that on her yet.

“Through a friend. We havana officially met, aye, wi’ lockdown.” He fibbed, keeping his face straight as he spoke. “But he had a friend in a similar situation, alone...mostly, and he thought maybe his cupid's arrow was on target this time.”

“Has he tried this game before?”

Jamie laughed, immediately thinking of the last time he and John had been close enough to trial his terrible dating advice. “No’ so much, but there have been some suggestions. All leading nowhere of course.”

“Aye.” Nodding, Rupert knew all too well how horrid his friends dating history was. He was, as he’d learned from overhearing his wife watching ‘Friends’, like a lobster who just hadn’t met his equal. “Ye mean yer English friend, right? The policeman? Is she bonnie?”

“She’s...shy, aye? And verra bonnie. I’m not sure she feels the same for me…”

“But yer already smitten?” It was a rhetorical question, Rupert already knew the answer and there was something pleasing about it. “I dinna think ye need to worry. At this point we’ve got all the time in the world. Just keep talking, yer a charming man, Jamie, and I’m sure you’ll continue to evolve the relationship until yer able to meet. Then, when we’re free of this madness, invite her up here.”

For once his conversation seemed to have given him a good reason to have Claire in his home. At least now Rupert would have no reason to question her sudden appearance (if and when he came across her). They had managed to steer clear of an illicit meeting during the collection of the orphaned lamb but if anyone was going to find her, it was going to be Rupert.

They were quiet again for a time, the insects humming around them as they finished off their lunches. He thought back to his lingering thoughts at breakfast. The sun was nowhere near up but he had heard her moving around upstairs as he’d prepared for the day. She was always an early riser but previously it had been because bad dreams had woken her. Jamie had the feeling this morning, though, had been different. Though he had yet to ask her honestly.

“Aye, verra wise Rupert.”

‘That yer charming?” Rupert jested, nearly pushing Jamie off their makeshift bale seats as they packed away ready to start the next portion of their day.

“Weel, no’ so much about that part and more about us having more time.”

“Is she at home too?”

“I think so, yes. Like most others.”

“Do ye wish you were home too?”

“Lord no!” He exclaimed, kicking Rupert’s filth wellies. “I’m the same as ye, Rupert MacKenzie. Canna stand to be locked away wi’ no purpose.”

As the words left his mouth, his heart skipped a beat as he thought of Claire and the freedom she’d lost in the process of moving here. Yes, it was for her own safety, but he hadn’t even thought of giving her something to keep her mind occupied. Stupidly, he’d assumed she’d keep herself busy but she was no longer in her own home and it would have surely been hard to find those distractions without more assistance.

“You alright?”

“Aye,” he lied, brushing off those thoughts, self-flagellation would do him no good now, “just thinking about how hard it must be to be trapped in your own home wi’out reason or focus.”

“I’m sure there are quite a few people whose dreams just came true. Dinna fash.”

Sighing, Jamie nodded. “Yer right, plenty of hermits out there ready to sacrifice their boring office jobs for a life of working from home, right?”

“Right”

He made a mental note, though, to return home with some productive suggestions. The garden was coming along nicely, but he knew she wouldn’t be eager to leave the house - even if it was still close to the property. Instead he would need to find something indoors that was suitable. First, though, he would need to learn some more about her. Something that would clue him in as to what kind of activity she’d prefer to occupy her time with. As much as he knew she had enjoyed learning how to cook, it had a limit, one she’d soon find herself at.

No, cooking wasn’t the task she needed.

But he would find something she could invest in.

[desiblr-tales]

@dobaara : Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, shat?

@iktarapdf : … No.

@wtfrochh : I do!

@dobaara : I know, ro

@wtfrochh : I’m sad!

@dobaara : I know, ro

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

I sincerely hope the Poptropica Creators didn’t get any serious hate when people got got upset about Monster Carnival’s ending...

Like I wish the ending were a bit different too, but they don’t deserve actual hate over that, they seem like really nice people. I don’t know if they ever had dealt with that, but I just hope they never did. :(

[fuzzkaizer]

Soulman Vintage Museum

“... if you'll get some difficulties with some original stuff and you will want to look at it closely and at the guts too, my little museum has some info and especially a pics which probably could help.This is an about 125 pieces list below of units I got and most of them already shared on my Soulman Vintage Museum page:   https://www.facebook.com/soulman.vintage Use the search and find what you wanted to look at when you need. Some pedals are still not shared but I suppose it will be done soon too. The list is keeping in the page description and I guess will be complemented:     

Ace Tone FM-2 Fuzz Master '72 Ace Tone FM-3 Fuzz Master '74 ADA Flanger '77 Ampeg SC-1 Scrambler '69 Arbiter Fuzz Face NKT275 '67 Barcus-Berry 1330-1 Standard Pre-Amplifier '75 Barcus-Berry 1330-S Standard Pre-Amplifier '73 Binson Echorec 2 T7E '66 Boss CE-1 Chorus Ensemble '78 Boss CE-2 Chorus '79 8900 Boss CS-1 Compression Sustainer '78 7300 Boss CS-2 Compression Sustainer '84 382800 Boss DM-2 Delay '82 232700 Boss DS-1 Distortion '78 7600 Boss GE-7 Equalizer '82 202500 Boss GE-7 Equalizer '91 QD31138 Boss HM-2 Heavy Metal '83 371300 Boss OD-1 Over Drive '77 6500 Boss SD-1 Super Over Drive '81 078300 Clark SS-600 fuzz silicon '68 Conn ST-11 StroboTuner '78 Cry Baby Thomas Organ 95-910511 Stack of Dimes '77 Cry Baby Trash Can '60s rebuild Cry Baby VOX Clyde McCoy pictured 1809 '67 Cry Baby VOX Clyde McCoy pictured 6779 '67 Dallas Arbiter Fuzz Face BC108C '72 Dallas Arbiter Trem Face '71 DeArmond 600 Volume Pedal '53 DeArmond 601 Tremolo Control '48 DigiTech WH1 Whammy Pedal '91 DOD Overdrive Preamp 250 '79 DOD Overdrive Preamp 250 upgraded to '77 Echoplex EP-1 468 '64 EHX Big Muff V1 Triangle '72 EHX Big Muff V2 Ram's Head '74 EHX Electric Mistress V2 '76 EHX Hot Tubes '78 EHX Memory Man Deluxe '79 EHX Small Clone EH 4600 Mini-Chorus '82 EHX Small Stone Phase Shifter '75 Expandora EXP-2000 Bixonic '95 Fender Blender '69 Fender Fuzz-Wah '69 Fender Reverb 6G15 '63 Foxx Tone Machine '70s Gibson GA-4RE Reverb-Echo '66 Gibson Maestro BG-2 Boomer 2 8374 '68 Gibson Maestro FZ-1 Fuzz Tone 2612 '62 Gibson Maestro FZ-1A Fuzz Tone 14000 '66 Gretsch Controfuzz '73 HR Enver Distortion '02 HR Enver Fuzz '02 HR Enver Tube Screamer '02 HR SWC-2 Switcher-Comparer '18 Ibanez No.59 Standard Fuzz '74 Ibanez Overdrive OD-850 '75 Ibanez TS-9 Tube Screamer '84 Ibanez TS-9 Tube Screamer '95 Ibanez TS-808 Tube Screamer Overdrive Pro '80 Ibanez WH-10 wah '91 Klemt Echolette S NG51 '63 Klon Centaur 713 '94 Maxon D&S '76 Maxon D&S II '78 Maxon OD-9 Overdrive '81 Maxon OD-801 D&S '80 Maxon OD-808 Overdrive '79 Maxon OD-880 OverDrive Soft Distortion '76 Maxon ST-9 Super Tube Screamer '83 Morley MOD-ABY Switcher '80s Morley MOD-AER Deluxe Analog Echo Reverb '82 Morley MOD-DDB Deluxe Distortion '80 Morley MOD-SCV Stereo Chorus Vibrato '81 Morley PWA Auto Wah '78 Morley PWF Power Wah Fuzz '75 Morley RFS-1 Footswitch '80s Mosrite Fuzzrite V1 germ '66 Mosrite Fuzzrite V2 silicon '68 Mu-Tron III '74 with PS-1 Mu-Tron Octave Divider '77 Mu-Tron Phasor '75 Mu-Tron Phasor II '77 MXR Blue Box BUD '74 MXR Distortion + BUD '74 MXR Distortion II '82 MXR Dyna Comp BUD '74 MXR Micro Amp '80 MXR Phase 45 BUD '74 MXR Phase 90 BUD '74 MXR Phase 100 '75 Pro Co The Rat '82 Roger Mayer Fuzz Face '86 Roger Mayer Octavia '79 Roland AF-60 Bee Gee '75 Roland AS-1 Sustainer '76 Sam Ash Fuzzz Boxx '67 Schaller Fuzz germ '60s Schaller Universal-Fußpedal '69 Shin Ei FY-2 Fuzz Box silicon '76 Shin Ei JAX Fuzz Wah FW-8 '73 Shin Ei Uni Fuzz '69 Shin Ei Uni Vibe '72 Shin Ei Univox Super-Fuzz U-1093 '60s Shin Ei Univox Super-Fuzz U-1095 '72 Tone Bender Jumbo '76 Tone Bender MK4 '71 Tribute Buzzaround Tribute Colorsound PowerBoost Tribute Dallas Rangemaster Treble Booster Tribute Fuzz Face NKT275 Tribute Marshall Supa Fuzz mk1 Tribute Marshall Supa Fuzz mk2 Tribute Octavio Tribute Selmer Buzz Tone Tribute Shatterbox Tribute the Zonk Machine MK1 Tribute Tone Bender MK1 wooden box Tribute Tone Bender MK1.5 Tribute Tone Bender MK2 Pro Tribute Tone Bender MK3 Rotosound Tribute WEM Pep Box Tube Driver BK Butler '87 Tube Driver Chandler '88 Watkins Copicat mk2 '61 Yamaha MBD-20M Multiband Distortion '88 “

documeted in very clean pictures: /soulman.vintage/photos

cred: facebook.com/soulman.vintage

[bettas-and-other-oddities]

Y'all im so tired of animal groups on facebook

Someone posted about needing advice for their crested gecko and it was a problem of either extreme mbd or a broken jaw. And everyone was so damn quick to jump down ops throat and be as rude and aggressive as possible. "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE CHILDREN IF THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ANIMALS" ,"You make your animals suffer so you should suffer" literally one person said op should kill herself. And I tagged mods and said stuff was getting out of hand and the replies. One person was like "Oh you pansy snowflake can't take criticism" like no my guy I can take criticism but telling this person who doesn't even really speak English and has had this gecko for less than 24hrs to go kill herself amd that she shouldn't have kids because she can't take an animal to the vet because they're closed...yikes. Facebook is so toxic.

[sleprandomizer]

YGO forbidden memories 15 cards drop mod

15 cards drop mod makes the game much enjoyable and less grindy. I love FM but I'm not denying the vanilla game is bad. The vanilla version is super grindy and unfair with the difficulty spikes. Especially the grind. like we must fight the same opponent 200-300 times to get the strongest card we can obtain (meteor black dragon). With 15 card drops I just need to defeat low meadow mage 40 times and already got 3 copies MBD. The best YGO FM mod I have ever played.

(FM 2 mod just worse than vanilla FM. Super unfair with very strong enemy cards at the beginning also more grindy👎 )

[beck-nightengale]

@chennnington Funny enough it also started because I was just mega salty that I couldn't marry Serana in Skyrim, so I wanted to make my own epic dark fantasy sapphic romance. 😂 I know there are mods for that now, but I'd only ever played the vanilla game on my PS3, so I didn't know back then. At the end of the day, it all comes full circle.

And I think I've got White Noise on my playlist for my post-apocalyptic eldritch horror books! It's an excellent choice! But I'd totally recommend other stuff by MBD also. They've got amazing concept albums full of songs that work for when you're writing dark shit, like Who Will Survive and What Will Be Left of Them, In Bocca al Lupo, and Red of Tooth and Claw. Lots of very good character inspiration stuff; I just love them so much. I feel like I've got at least one song by them on every playlist I make.

(Also the lead singer wrote an entire album with songs he sings to his dog and donates the money to animal shelters, so you know the band be full of good eggs.)

To be fair, there are a lot of reasons to worry about animals in horror movies. I was always shocked and happy that the cat survived! There's an amazing animation from years ago that basically makes the third movie about rescuing Jonesie. That's my new canon for the Alien franchise and no one will ever convince me different.

Summer Reading/Writing/Arting Tag

Yo, I was tagged by @chennnington over here to do this thing and it does look like fun, so why not!

But I'm also going to be boring since idk who to tag, so anyone is free to fill this thing out if it hits your dashboard. ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ Go knock yourselves out.

1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.

Thanks to Enderal kicking my creative nuts into gear and being recently liberated from certain "game-master" obligations (long, long ass story that'd probably go over most Tumblr folks' heads, anyway), I finally started diving back into a sapphic-flavored dark fantasy book series that I'd been planning since like around 2016 or so. It was mostly born out of some frustrations with the lack of WLW in general, and while I have some WLW elements in my existing works, I wanted to write something that was more overtly WLW with a leading lady who was outgoing about her sexuality than my previous protagonists (who are either repressed as fuck or too dead to hold a relationship that would function) and wouldn't take her four dang novels to finally kiss a girl.

Anyway, Morane Soraya was created from a whole mess of complicated feelings about women in media. I describe her as a combination of Julie D'aubigny and Anne Lister, with a bit of Christina of Sweden (all of who were badass women in history. Look 'em up!). I wrote a lot about the basics of who she is/what she's all about here.

Morane is a good bean:

Book 1, Bloodtithes, will go into her venturing into a scarcely-visited icy continent to investigate a possible cure or effective treatment to the painful condition she had been forced to live with, which gives her the proficiency she has in Blood Magick (which isn't inherently evil in her world, but very often misunderstood because of its side effects). She's from a mercenary group who all share the same condition and propensity for Blood Magick, so they're interested in this so-called "cure" as well, but not many make it to this country and survive, so Morane is sent alone instead. Along the way, she meets a horned jackal-man named Darius ka Dir, and gets entangled in a plot with a strigoika named Viorica Avanas who has a whole buttload of inner demons of her own (side note: I once played Vio in Skyrim to mess around with Kaidan and they got into some... Situations).

A friend drew Darius and he has a single giant and glorious curl that he is very serious about.

I've also talked a lot about Jade for my Enderal stuff, who was already based on an existing character, and I've figured out how to work her into Morane's world. She won't factor in until Book 2, Cloverleaf, because she's essentially gonna tear down a wall and break freaking everything.

You know. Like she do.

It's still in the planning stages but I'm feeling pretty good about it.

2) Rec a book!

I just started reading Dreams of the Dying by Nicolas Lietzau, which I'm enjoying a lot, but haven't read enough yet to form a coherent recommendation on it. I just got the audiobook though so I'm looking forward to that!

Otherwise, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is one of my favorite novels of all time and was a major writing inspiration for me. It's creative in how it gets you to feel uneasy while you're reading the book itself, a huge mindfuck, and one of the few novels that actually made me feel a sense of dread while I was reading it.

If you'd like some seriously bonkers reading material, I'd suggest giving it a looksee.

3) Rec a fic! (outside your character tag)

Iiii don't actually read fanfiction that much, so I'm not sure if I can rec one!

On the flipside, feel free to rec me some Enderal fics (or your own, if you have any). I'll read the shit out of it.

4) Rec music!

I can't recommend Murder by Death to people enough. They're my all-time favorite band, one of the few I've ever made an effort to go see live when they were playing in my city (just before lockdown hit, no less), and deserve more love. I've been listening to them since I discovered them high school and their albums just keep getting better and better.

Also it's not hard for me to find some character-centric songs from them because the topics they write about is very versatile. I tend to think of Lost River for Jade's story, and Ditch Lilly and Rumbrave for Rey's.

5) Share one piece of advice!

Writing women! Because I guess this one needs telling as there are people who still find writing female characters daunting or somehow more difficult than it is to write men. Which, fair, I was the same way. Despite having mostly female protagonists in the novels I'd written, the dudes in my earlier stuff somehow ended up taking the spotlight and stealing most of the development. I really struggled to work through some of my own internalized misogyny and "there are no good female characters in media" mindset, and it took a lot of opening my mind up before it got easier. Now I predominately focus on writing women to be that change I want to see - this includes not killing certain ones off to enhance manpain like I used to, which I learned was called "fridging", lol.

My advice for writing them is to just write them as characters. It sounds simple and stupid, but I'm surprised how much people get wrapped up in the "she must be a strong girlboss" brainrot that they end up with a very flat, boring character that literally no one can relate to, so she still gets outshined by the dudes because the writer tried to overcompensate her badass womanliness without giving her actually compelling character traits.

I feel like one of the main reasons why I absolutely adored Ellen Ripley when I was a kid was because she was written to be a man in the first Alien movie, but they changed the character into a woman without changing the script and it just worked. I didn't know that when I was young, but finding that out just made me appreciate Ripley so much more, because the writers didn't treat her like a "strong female character" but as just a character. I think if writers approached this mindset more, we wouldn't have the "no good female characters in media issue" that doesn't need to be an issue in the first place.

These days I approach character-building by not restricting certain traits by gender, and finding a balance between strengths and weaknesses. Just shut off your critical analysis brain to create a "strong female character" and just write "strong character" instead.

I could word vomit more about my own ladies and how much I love them now than I used to but I feel like this has gone on long enough. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[gotham-ruaidh]

oh i thought you were an original founder at imagine. how did the blog start then?

Hi anon,@imagineclaireandjamie started sometime during the summer of 2015, founded by 2 mods (Mod Eli and Mod Katy) who modelled the blog after a similar blog in the Marvel fandom.In September 2015, the 2 founding mods opened up applications for new mods. In a "because why not" moment I wrote 2 short stories and applied. For some reason they chose me (and shortly thereafter, our Emeritus Mod Wheel @asthewheelwills and one of my current Imagine sisters Mod Eloise @dingbatland). Shortly after that, Mod Liv @westerhos was brought on board.Then when Eli and Katy needed to focus on other things, we invited Mod Lenny @lenny9987, Mod MBD @mybeautifuldecay, and Mod WTT @writtenthroughtime to join our party.Not too long afterward, Mod Bonnie @bonnie-wee-swordsman joined our merry band of misfits as well. It's been a long, strange, but oh so rewarding journey for we 7 current Mods. I hope they don't mind me speaking on their behalf when I say that we have more fun together than any of us ever imagined (pardon the pun 😎)!!

[admfactoryz]

  Informações do mod:   14 cidades com estradas ruins.Todos os caminhões têm suspensão alta e não será fácil enganchar o reboque,  TODOS OS CAMINHÕES têm o último eixo levantado, depois disso o caminhão se agacha um pouco e passa por baixo do reboque!Esta ainda é uma versão beta para 1.38 e não funcionará nas versões anteriores!Eu não verifiquei com outros mods.Inicie um novo jogo e selecione no módulo de jogo: s. mbdCréditos:Asmodeus   Imagens do mod:     Vídeo do mod:     Fazer download do mod:   Obs: talvez seja necessário instalar o WINRAR para descompactar o arquivo. Link do site oficial do winrar. BAIXAR WINRAR

http://www.factorymodz.com/2020/08/ets2-mapas-mapa-dirty-road-beta-ets2.html

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded: Chapter Six; Spring Watch.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie:

A hard man is good to find. [Mae West]

--

Jamie woke with a start, the alarm blaring in the background.

The dream had been intense and had left him panting, a sheen of sweat on his skin as he pushed the duvet aside and stood. As always it was light outside, the sunrise half blinding him as the blasts of orange and red permeated the old curtains. Washing the night from his skin, he plunged himself beneath the pounding rivulets of water coming from his power shower, his body temperature receding slightly as the morning wore on.

Fortunately Claire wouldn’t be awake yet and he could slip from the house almost unnoticed. He needed to get a good day of work done, and to forget the memory of his dream before he faced her again. The mere thought brought colour to his cheeks, the heat in his belly reminding him of how incredibly realistic it had been.

Delicate pink skin appeared without his permission and once more he could feel the remnants of it haunting him as he slid his wellies on and closed the door softly behind him. Working in a daze, he prepared his cows for milking, the heat of the morning fading slightly as the clouds rolled in. The animals barely paid him any mind, going about their own business as he fed, watered and tended to them.

She hadn’t snuck into his bed, as she had in his dreams, but she had infiltrated his thoughts and no matter how hard he tried, sporadic jolts of her came unbidden throughout the day as he worked.

She’s married, he told himself, although the argument felt pretty weak in his own mind. In the abstract she was, he could tell that she still thought herself that way despite starting her new life. Without knowing it, she often rubbed her wedding ring finger - though the ring had long since been removed. It was obvious she was struggling with the transition and who could blame her, it had only been a couple of weeks. She was still hesitating on her name whenever he spoke it out loud to her, the subtle twitch betraying her.

But she was beginning to thaw, the shocked reaction he received when he spoke to her growing less and less as time went on (which, secretly, made him smile).

The baby lambs were out in force as he pulled the sandwich from his rucksack - one Claire had made him the night before. He smiled to himself as he perched on the fence, watching his first time mums as they paraded their babies around the perimeter of the field. Food somehow tasted better when someone else had made it for him, the slight differences in style allowing him a great enough change in routine to be noticeable.

She, it seemed, had a penchant for adding multiple salad products on her ham sandwich. Whereas Jamie was always in a rush at 4am, trying to collect his thermos as well as various food items to keep him going for the day, usually he would just throw slices of meat on top of bread without much thought. Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber and *butter*, however, made all the difference. He even had potato salad on the side and a bag of what looked like homemade crisps.

Before Claire had arrived, John had given Jamie a very brief update as to her situation. Knowing a limited amount, he gauged that the difficulties she’d encountered recently hadn’t really set in yet and, instead, she was going through some sort of nesting, using her time at Lallybroch to cook and clean, ensuring that her mind is actively kept away from thinking about much at all.

His mind needed something similar as the image of her pottering about in his kitchen whilst he was away brought to the fore those visions that had him startled awake this morning before his alarm had even a chance to ring and he shook the picture of her bare skin from his thoughts, turning back to his task list.

The orphaned lambs were thriving now. Most had been ‘adopted’ by other nursing mothers but he still had two rogue ewes who were waiting for collection - Rupert, his nearest (mostly by proximity but also by friendship) neighbour had offered to take them for him but had yet been unable to drive over to collect them. In lieu of this, Jamie had been spending time hand feeding them every day though he worried each time he left them that he might return to something unmentionable.

Luckily, they’d survived another night in the small outhouse and he crawled in between them, the straw poking and prodding him as he settled with the warm milk bottle. The first, the largest of the two, squirmed in excitement, rushing to plonk herself by his side and suckle noisily at the teet.

“Easy now, lass, there’s enough for the both of you.” He soothed, watching as she butted the bottle, falling to her knees as she fed. Sheep were notoriously terrible pets, losing their fear of humans when in contact for too long and he had worried this close contact wouldn’t be good for the ewes, but watching the smaller of the pair sit helplessly in the corner made him think of Claire.

An idea came to him all of a sudden as he moved towards the lone female. He could, if he wanted, take the lamb home that evening and leave her in Claire’s care. Not only would it give the poor wee thing a greater chance, it might give her something else to turn her attention to in the day. There was a large chance he’d lose this one if he didn’t do something drastic.

-- --- --

An odd feeling settled in her stomach from the moment she woke up. Though she couldn’t put her finger on what the issue was, she felt a strange atmosphere hovering around her. Her skin prickled as she got out of the shower and she immediately felt as though there was something she should be remembering but couldn’t quite hold onto the memory.

She’d heard Jamie leave this morning, which was odd in itself. Usually she was fast asleep at dawn, not waking until much later when the house was quiet and she was alone. But she’d been woken this morning by some forgotten thought or dream that she couldn’t picture from the second she’d opened her eyes.

After barely speaking for two weeks, the weekend had been a welcome change.

Conversation had not been forced or odd, Jamie had allowed her time for quiet reflection and had seemed really quite pleased with her suggestions for the upcycling of his old furniture.

She felt useful, finally. A feeling she hadn’t had in some time.

Putting herself to work, she opted for cleaning downstairs for the best part of the morning. There was still a lot of dust residue from the sanding epic they’d had on Saturday, even spending most of Sunday dusting and hoovering hadn’t removed it all, so she pulled the dyson from under the stairs and tried to be as thorough as she could be.

Like cooking, she had never considered herself to be fluent in the art of housewifery. Before...when she had been able, her time had been dedicated to studying. There had been a cleaner for such tasks and, even afterwards, she hadn’t *needed* to be useful in that way. Here, though, there was nobody else to clean, do the dishes or cook and she found that losing herself to each task kept her mind (and body) active.

Sitting with the remnants of her crisps, she decided that was the dish she’d been most proud of since her introduction to the kitchen. She found herself thinking of Jamie and hoped that he was enjoying them too.

Their food deliveries now consisted of a greater variety of produce and she’d been able to add some colour to his lunch - which she had been making every evening and putting into the fridge for him to take when he left in the mornings.

She felt pleased as well as shocked at how easily she had moulded to fit her new life here.

Happy with her efforts, she turned her attention to the bookshelves in the back living room. There were titles dating back hundreds of years. Thick leather covers with yellowed pages sat proudly amongst the newer softback novels. She could tell which books had been read just by glancing at the spines, though there had been fingerprints in the thin layer of dust that had been there only hours before.

They were categorised, it seemed, by the surname of the author, carefully and methodically organised so that each time a new title had been purchased, it had been added in the right spot though there wasn’t room for many more.

His taste was eclectic, from non-fiction books on farming, agriculture, holistic medicines and horticulture to the classics (neatly bound with multiple editions ordered together, oldest first) including Jane Austin, Victor Hugo, Descartes, Melville and Hemingway. Jumbled in were some biographies but she’d assumed those belonged to either his parents or sister as none had been touched for some time.

Her fingers ran over the spines, stopping to hover over the drawing and painting books she’d first read when learning to doodle on the post-it notes in the first few weeks. She didn’t stop until she reached a relatively new title that she hadn’t noticed before. There was ruffling on the edge, a clear sign of frequent use, and some damage to the corners. Pulling it from the shelves, she settled into the comfy armchair, her cup of tea now cool enough to drink, and began to read.

It was modern, eloquently written with intricate plot weaving from the moment she turned the first page. The front cover clearly denoted that of a romance but there was intrigue and art as well as carefully homegrown characters. Before she’d had time to digest the prose, the front door opened and closed and she blinked. The clock on the desk ticked loudly and she noticed that hours had passed without her knowing.

Placing the book back on the shelf, she decided to leave it where it was for the time being and come back for it before bed. Though the visuals she’d imagined for herself stayed with her as she stretched and went in search of Jamie.

A loud noise caught her attention and she burst out laughing as she walked into the kitchen to find him wrestling with a small lamb.

“A new friend?” She said, her shock fading quickly.

“Ah; lass, I need ye!” His words were breathless, his cheeks a vibrant pink from the exertion of keeping the lamb from darting off and wrecking the joint. “I have a challenge for you, if you’re up for it!?”

[purpleheatherdream]

Jamie Rescuing Claire from BJR’s Imprisonment

[For @thelallybrochlibrary Scavenger Hunt: Collate and post a list of Outlander fan fiction based on a chosen event, theme, category or specific AU.]

The Rebel and the Rose by @mybeautifuldecay​

Part One: 

One ----Two ----Three ---- Four ---- Five ---- Six ---- Seven ---- Eight 

Part Two: 

One ---- Two ---- Three ---- Four ---- Five 

Part Three: 

One ---- Two ----Three ---- Four ---- Five ---- Six --- Seven

  Epilogue

 In the Shadow of the Valley of Death by Mod MBD of  @imagineclaireandjamie  or @mybeautifuldecay

What would have happened if BJR had been obsessed with “breaking Claire” instead of Jamie. If the exact same things (or close to it) had happened, leading up to Claire being caught and sent to Wentworth Prison to hang. How would Jamie have gotten her out and healed her?

Part 1   

Part 2

Claire’s Rescue by Mod Eli at @imagineclaireandjamie

Summary: the Highlanders are unable to free Claire from Brockton (where she was taken to meet Lord Thomas) and rush to rescue her as the Redcoats bring her to Tolbooth.

Part 1  

Part 2   

Part 3   

Part 4   

Part 5

Beaten Not Broken by Mod MBD at @imagineclaireandjamie   @mybeautifuldecay

Part 1   

Part 2   

Part 3

A common enemy  by LadyGloucester   @ladyglouchester

In this AU, Claire is engaged with Jack Randall, and Jamie is an outlaw that lives looking for justice. Will they be able to acknowledge their common enemy and find what they were looking in each other, or will life tear them apart?

Seek, and You Shall Find by owlish_peacock   @owlish-peacock36

After rescuing Claire from Randall, Jamie becomes quickly infatuated. But there are secrets that could mean danger for the both of them.

Feel free to add any more fics that have this scenario!

[ets2world]

The Harsh Russian Baikal R9 (1.28)

This version has removed unnecessary boards (where they were passport photos) all over the map, also fixed bugs.

Profile:

The archive created profile for those who have problems with the creation of a new one. Who played on the old saving to r4, europe on the standard module, they can continue their profile, and those who create profiles since r4 on bayikalr4.mbd module, they create a new profile, and start with 0. DLC Goind East, Scandinavia, France shut off

Recommendations: Russian traffic pack from Jazzycat

Changelog:

Adapted for ETS2 patch 1.28.x

The log is clean.

Removed all equipment except MAN Magnet.

Removed unnecessary shields (where there were photos of the passport) on the whole map.

Off-road semi-trailers are sewed.

Road wheels for off-road semi-trailers. (Put above the cards)

Now DPS. (Thanks to Jazzycat)

You can choose the model of the semitrailer, as you can replace the “Magnet” ovsky tandem on the semitrailer.

Credits: goba6372,  _69_mf_ Compatibility: ETS2 latest version

Screenshots:

How to install mod for ETS 2:

Download this mod.

Extract it!

Paste the .scs file(s) into your My Documents/Euro Truck Simulator 2/mod folder.

Run game ~> Mod Manager ~> Enable mod.

Enjoy!

Download The Harsh Russian Baikal R9  for ETS 2:

Download

Source: The Harsh Russian Baikal R9 (1.28)

Readmore: http://ets2downloads.com/maps/harsh-russian-baikal-r9

[ets2-mods]

Road Unlimited v1.2 BETA

Road Unlimited v1.2 BETA

Standalone map! when creating new profiles select Roadunlimited mbd. DO NOT REUPLOAD THIS MOD! 1.26 Need all MAP dlc’s!!!! want to play this mod with other mods? you have to convert it into a addon map in the editor. Any Bug reports are welcome this is a ALPHA version New Features: -Grass Goddard Fixed -Truckdealers Fixed -Few New Things In Banch -Added Cities: Jinnantian, Niesky And Mirage…

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter EIGHT; Call The Midwife.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: Pandora’s box.

On time this week <3 MBD

-- --- --

The weekend whizzed by, Rupert had been held up by one thing or another and a few more of the livestock needed attending to, so she hardly saw or heard Jamie but the ewe had finally been rehomed happily. Though she was relieved to have quiet returned to the house, the fact that Jamie hadn’t been home for dinner for most of the week had left her feeling rather moudline.  

Though he’d done a great job of bringing humour back to the table during their previous conversation, she couldn’t help but dwell on the memories some of the comments had brought back to the surface.

Most nights she was woken by severe nightmares, ones that had rendered her emotional, her eyes red raw and filled with moisture as she tried to contain her sobs. Each time she’d rise, bathe her face in cool water and try to get back to sleep as soon as possible but by the end of the week she was extremely exhausted...and lonely.

In the early hours of Friday morning she found herself sitting in the reading room nursing a glass of whisky. Silently she’d hoped to muddle through the day alone but as Jamie came downstairs to begin his morning routine he saw the glow from the candle she had lit.

He stood in the doorway for long enough to watch a few stray tears roll down her cheek. Illuminated by the small light, she had a book clutched between her hands as if she’d meant to read it though it didn’t seem she was actually going to. It seemed as if she knew he was there but made no move to acknowledge him, instead she kept her eyes (glazed and heavy with moisture) gazing out of the window.

The sun was rising, filling the room with glorious yellow and orange. She’d caught sight of Jamie but her mind had been too focused on holding herself together to speak. The empty feeling that had been haunting her all week was reaching its peak and it felt impossible to even try to communicate with another person.

An ache rose in his belly as he took one small step into the room, across the boundary and closer to her. When she didn’t flinch or show any outward signs that this was upsetting to her, Jamie continued.

She felt his arms wrap around her, the contact strange but welcoming at the same time.

He was warm, his chest rising and falling gently as she moulded herself against him.

There was a moment of calm where neither spoke. Jamie worked hard to keep his heart rate down, the panic rising a little as he realised that he’d initiated contact so easily.

A connection had been made, his...desire...to be close to her had been growing and though he knew she hadn’t picked up on it, there was something about the way she reacted to him that suggested she felt similarly. It was too soon, though, for him to show his hand and he had been content to allow her the safety of his home.

Now, however, he worried this might expose him.

“I have to go out and milk, sassenach, but I’ll come back afterwards. Get yerself a fresh cup of tea and relax, we can talk then.”

Gripping her briefly, he then released his arms, waited for her to pull herself away and turned to leave. She didn’t speak until he was far enough down the corridor that he only caught the echo of her words, but he heard the ‘thank you’ reverberate across the walls and he smiled as he pulled himself inside the jeep and drove off across the fields.

Still in a sort of stupor, she basked in the warmth he’d left clinging to her skin for a long time after she’d heard the door close and the car drive away. Finally she made it back into the kitchen, sorted herself a cup of coffee and went back to the reading room.

Beneath the bench of the window seat, she recalled finding a couple of unopened jigsaws. She hoped Jamie wouldn’t mind, but the thought of doing too much had her stomach tied in knots and it seemed to be the perfect activity to while away the morning.

“Then if he doesn’t come back after milking, I can just continue.” She declared as she unwrapped one of the more complex looking puzzles.

Using the foldaway table she spread the pieces out, making sure to sort the edge pieces from the middle. It wasn’t long before her coffee had cooled, the sun was high in the sky and she’d organised different sections of the jigsaw in small, neat piles inside the completed outer edge.

With the scene in her mind, she didn’t allow herself the chance to overthink the morning, a sort of relaxed calm had settled and her chest felt lighter...though there was still an innate feeling of loss that she couldn’t shake.

Her skin prickled, a draught running through the room, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She was safe, she knew she was, but there was something unsettling brewing. She hoped it was just the prospect of talking about herself, reliving parts of her ‘old’ life that she wanted to remain buried forever.

A piece of the jigsaw clicked into place, the soft card edges fitting together to reveal another section of the image.

“You’d been crying.”

She snorted before licking her lips. The coffee was stone cold now and she had yet to take even a small sip of it.

“Yes.”

She hadn’t heard Jamie return but his words were so soft that it hadn’t shocked her when he’d spoken.

“Silly, really, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Ye dinna have to tell me anything, but I want you to ken that I’m here if you do.”

It had been nearly a month since her arrival at Lallybroch and with April nearly over she realised that she had collected some insight on him, yet she’d given little of herself in return. He wasn’t being nosey or pushy though, his words as gentle as his general demeanour.

“It’s just memories, tough ones, but things that happened in another lifetime.”

Isolated as they were, it felt to her as if she’d been reborn with only a few ghosts of the life she’d once known.

Continuing on with her jigsaw, she chose another few pieces that fit together and felt the process soothing her, it was as if she were talking to nobody rather than to Jamie. He sat perched on the edge of the leather armchair, his eyes focused on her but saying nothing.

“I was very nearly a mother, it was nearly three years ago now...a miracle, really. And then a nightmare.”

The date felt eerily familiar to Jamie. Jenny, his sister, had gone through her own battle around the same time and he’d watched and picked up the pieces as best he could when her husband, Ian, could not. There was nothing worse than getting so heartbreakingly close only to have it all ripped away.

“Nothing was the same after that. I hadn’t really pictured myself raising a family until it happened and then, all of a sudden, I was on maternity leave from my studies without a true purpose, only my grief and a huge hole where my family no longer existed.” She paused, taking a few long breaths as she tried to stop the painful ache from rising in her chest. “It was suggested...calmly...that I didn’t return after that. I had some medication to help me sleep and it made me so groggy that I would have agreed to anything.”

Jenny had been much the same way, only her support network had been larger - he guessed.

“If I know anything, sassenach,” he said quietly, “it’s that there is always room for second chances and new beginnings. Even when it seems improbable.”

Something told her he knew something of her loss without him having to say it. Kind until the end, he allowed her time to process her own restored grief without invading emotionally.

“I’ll make us some lunch.” Sensing that she was spent for the moment, he smiled softly across at her before leaving quietly.

It took her a minute to collect herself again but she felt all the better for the discussion. It was a relief to have the weight removed from her chest and she was pleased she’d successfully managed to get through the story with very few tears.

It felt good, for once, not to be alone.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter SEVEN. Catastrophe.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: Prompt: Young at heart.

Morning/afternoon/evening all - sorry there wasn’t an update on Sunday, I’ve been moving house so it’s all a little messy at the moment. After next week, though, Shielded should return to normal <3 (for those who’ve asked, this isn’t posted on AO3, it may be at some point but at the moment I don't have enough time to post in both places, so sorry) MBD.

--

There should have been something endearing about being butted daily by a bouncing cloud, but the ewe Claire had taken care of for Jamie seemed to be having more fun than it should. For the third time that week she found herself chasing the bleating thing around the house as it continued to knock pictures, magazines, books, remotes and anything else not glued down over and off every single surface. Nothing was safe.

“OI!” She yelled, hoping her ‘mum voice’ would subdue the raging beast (it didn’t). “Watch the…”

Too late, she thought, as it went careering into the side of the wall. Luckily the house was made of stronger stuff, and her erstwhile companion simply shook herself and trotted off down the hallway.

‘Headstrong’ was the word she’d used in her earlier call to Jamie. He had laughed, covering his mouth so that she couldn’t hear him, as she’d relayed the story of her morning but had made a mental note that perhaps having a lamb in the house had not been the smartest move. Usually timid, sheep could pose bigger issues the more...content...they became with human contact though he hadn’t thought her large enough to pose as much of an issue as she did.

By the end of the week she (the ewe) had fully established herself as head of the house and Claire had succumbed to allowing her free rein.

Peace had been restored for which everyone was grateful.

“Clearly she feels more secure in the house wi’out the other sheep to boss her about.” Jamie said over dinner on Friday -  a night he had, thankfully, managed to get home at a reasonable hour.

“Yes, so it seems.” Claire added, without humour.

Keeping his eye on her, he tried to playfully nudge her under the table and it wasn’t long before a slight pink blush coloured her cheeks and she began laughing too.

“Nothing that’s worth having in this life comes easy,” he quipped, winking as best as he was able, “including the raising of sheep, sassenach…”

There was a moment of silence as Claire cocked her head to the side. “Nope,” she said, a glint of humour behind her eyes, “you’re going to have to explain that one.”

“One what?”

“Sass-a-what now?”

“OH!” For a moment he seemed abashed, his eyes glancing away from hers as he tried to find an effective (and non-insulting) way to explain his comment. He had been thinking of how to address her. It was clear she was finding it difficult to adapt to her new name (more so than her surroundings, though, he was pleased to note). “Well, it’s a bit of a...slur...really. But I didna mean it that way. Only I didna want to keep calling ye ‘lass’ all the time, and it seemed to suit you.”

“...so, what does it mean, technically speaking?”

“Literally it means ‘foreigner’, but it’s usually only used to describe the English.”

“Fitting then?” The sweet smile on her face betrayed her and he knew she wasn’t angry at the assessment.

There was a certain automatic understanding; he was right, she was struggling to connect with her new identity and he’d clearly picked up on the hesitation she had in answering to her new name. She felt like a foreigner in her own body so it seemed natural that her nickname should be linked with such a phrase. And, even though it was meant to be derogatory, she had immediately felt a kinship with it.

“Do you have any Scottish slurs for a cantankerous lamb?”

Having been ill-prepared for the immediacy of her humour, Jamie choked on his drink as he tried to contain his shocked laughter. “Being a notorious farming community, I’m sure there must be something but usually when the animals are misbehaving we just use Gaelic curse words.”

“Maybe you should be the first to coin one - it can be your legacy.”

Raising his eyebrows, he took a sip of his  tea and made an indistinct low noise in the back of his throat. Settling back into a comfortable silence, he watched her take a bite of a biscuit, his interest piqued as she dunked it carelessly into her hot drink. Although she was mostly still an enigma, he was starting to get a sense of her. Certainly she’d been raised well, in a middle class household. From her dress to her manner and the way she spoke and carried herself, he guessed she’d been privately educated.

But there was also something incredibly earthy about her, an aura of something more down-to-earth than that and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

The dreams hadn’t stopped, he’d had one free night but he was niggled persistently by something just beyond his reach and he would wake (usually before his alarm) breathless and needy, sweat often rolling down his back. The cold showers had become a regular occurrence and he felt a little embarrassed when he looked at her - even though, hopefully, she had no knowledge of the inner workings of his mind.

He’d been told on a number of occasions that his face gave nothing away and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that now.

“If you think much harder, Jamie, your brain might fall out of your ears.” She joked, pushing the plate of biscuits across to him as the orphaned ewe bleated loudly in the background. She found that the noise made her giggle and she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she watched him dismantle the jammy dodger. “Though that may be preferable to dealing with that furry bully.”

“She’s just a lass with spirit, that’s all.” He returned, watching as she dipped her head, the shorter parts of her hair falling from the bobble she had it tied loosely in to hide away her face.

“Lord knows we need a few more of those in our lives.”

“It can’t hurt, can it?”

As the atmosphere in the room changed, Jamie pushed the half empty plate back across the table, his little finger sliding ever so softly against hers before pulling back. He saw the second her confidence dipped and wanted to calmly reassure her without openly baring her insecurities.

“So,” she said, shaking off her downturned mood relatively quickly, “she probably needs more skilled hands than mine to continue raising her?”

“After the weekend my pal Rupert will come and take her, he has an older ewe he thinks might be able to take her on. But dinna think too much of it, she likes you, she feels comfortable wi’ you that she’s able to-”

“Run me ragged?”

“Aye.”

“It does feel like one of those high school experiments made to put you off becoming parents.” She was stood now, looking into the back utility room at her newest friend, who’d given up making noise to, instead, lie sleepily on the small smattering of hay Claire had placed down for her to munch on.

“She’s probably a wee bit more intense than an egg?”

That image made her snort. “Did you have to take care of an *egg* like a baby?”

“Oh aye, I drew a face on it.”

“It!? No wonder they only gave you poultry produce with that attitude.”

With contentment settling between them once more, Jamie allowed the weight of the last few minutes to fall from his shoulders. He felt proud that he’d been able to turn it around with a humorous quip borne from his own experiences. At the same time, he could see that she too felt relieved.

As the lamb stood sleepily and began to suckle gently on Claire’s outstretched fingers, a delicate moment passed between her and the little ewe.

“See, I told you she liked you.”

As he got into bed that evening, Jamie tried to recall the look of pure pleasure on her face as she’d noticed the bond that she had cultivated. Having been a city dweller for most of her life, she’d spoken to him over dinner about the pet cat her uncle had owned when she was very young but she’d hardly had much chance to engage with animals before or after that point. He’d suggested that he didn’t have to send the ewe away with Rupert but that’d both agreed it would still be better in the long run and he sensed she wanted to keep hold of the good memories she’d made (albeit few and far between) before she grew any bigger and caused anymore damage.

“Sleep well, sassenach,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips as the image of her nursing the ewe was replaced by Claire with a small red-haired child - the vision appearing unbidden as he fell softly to sleep.