briannaefraser:

d o e s  i t   e v e r   s t o p ?

                            t h e   w a n t i n g   y o u ?

j: every man and woman in the world needs to know how to defend theselves, sassenach. especially those married to a fraser
c: i think i’m more  a w a r e  o f   t h a t  every day.

(via legendaryduo)

emmaswanz:

Does it ever stop? The wanting you?

jamie smiling at claire in 1x07

thundersloths:

heads up; you can like something and still be critical of it, but you can’t refuse valid criticisms of something just because you like it

image

(via shakarlicious)

Sam nailing every single one of book!Jamie’s memorable lines ♥

(via bldskr)

brutalitoast:

spoken-not-written:

who-lligan:

artbymoga:

promising-promises:

princesssugarbutt:

So yeah I can see how many fingers you’re holding up

THIS IS VERY ACCURATE

THIS IS VERY BEAUTIFUL

Is this accurate? Is this what it’s actually like to not be able to see clearly?

yes

Very much so.

(via shakarlicious)


He lifted me to my feet then, and bent his head to kiss me. It went on a long while, and his hands roamed downward, finding the fastening of my petticoat. It fell to the floor in a billow of starched flounces, leaving me in my chemise. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.” He pressed me firmly to him, and I could feel that he was more than ready to get on with the business at hand. With some surprise, I realized that I was ready too. In fact, whether it was the result of the late hour, the wine, his own attractiveness, or simple deprivation, I wanted him quite badly. I pulled his shirt loose at the waist and ran my hands up over his chest, circling his nipples with my thumbs. They grew hard in a second, and he crushed me suddenly against his chest. “Oof!” I said, struggling for breath. He let go, apologizing. “No, don’t worry; kiss me again.” He did, this time slipping the straps of the chemise down over my shoulders. He drew back slightly, cupping my breasts and rubbing my nipples as I had done his. I fumbled with the buckle that held his kilt; his fingers guided mine and the clasp sprang free. Suddenly he lifted me in his arms and sat down on the bed, holding me on his lap. He spoke a little hoarsely. “Tell me if I’m too rough, or tell me to stop altogether, if ye wish. Anytime until we are joined; I dinna think I can stop after that.” In answer, I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him down on top of me. I guided him to the slippery cleft between my legs. “Holy God,” said James Fraser, who never took the name of his Lord in vain. “Don’t stop now,” I said.

He lifted me to my feet then, and bent his head to kiss me. It went on a long while, and his hands roamed downward, finding the fastening of my petticoat. It fell to the floor in a billow of starched flounces, leaving me in my chemise. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.” He pressed me firmly to him, and I could feel that he was more than ready to get on with the business at hand. With some surprise, I realized that I was ready too. In fact, whether it was the result of the late hour, the wine, his own attractiveness, or simple deprivation, I wanted him quite badly. I pulled his shirt loose at the waist and ran my hands up over his chest, circling his nipples with my thumbs. They grew hard in a second, and he crushed me suddenly against his chest. “Oof!” I said, struggling for breath. He let go, apologizing. “No, don’t worry; kiss me again.” He did, this time slipping the straps of the chemise down over my shoulders. He drew back slightly, cupping my breasts and rubbing my nipples as I had done his. I fumbled with the buckle that held his kilt; his fingers guided mine and the clasp sprang free. Suddenly he lifted me in his arms and sat down on the bed, holding me on his lap. He spoke a little hoarsely. “Tell me if I’m too rough, or tell me to stop altogether, if ye wish. Anytime until we are joined; I dinna think I can stop after that.” In answer, I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him down on top of me. I guided him to the slippery cleft between my legs. “Holy God,” said James Fraser, who never took the name of his Lord in vain. “Don’t stop now,” I said.

(via shakarlicious)