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Darren Criss & The Motley for Virgin America.

Atonement, Chapter 34

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience during my hiatus! Happy to be back. Please be advised that the rating on this fic increases to E with this chapter. I don’t think I’ll hear many complaints. ;)

Previously: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18 , Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33 CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: The Bear and Ragged Staff, Part I Strange, that their journey had started with the expectant search for an engagement ring.

An elegant, formal dinner, champagne drunk and bathed in candlelight. Silky smooth legs, perfumed wrists, a little black dress. An Instagram-ready French manicure teased flirtatiously over a starched white collar.

The hopeful probing of empty trouser pockets.

And with a blinding, deafening crash, everything Claire had ever thought she wanted was blown to pieces.

To make room for this.

For the man who would bring her here, to the site of her deepest shame. Who would see her decidedly unbeautiful — gaunt and pale and raccoon-eyed, in the same rumpled loungewear she’d been wearing for three days. Who would cradle her face as she dripped snot and tears all over him, and insist that she was worthy of love.

At her very best, she hadn’t been good enough for Frank Randall.

For anyone, she’d worried.

Yet at her very worst, Jamie Fraser was asking her to marry him.

He’d held her eyes as she crumbled; promised her, with and without words, that he could handle this.

He could handle her darkness. Her faults, her pain, her trauma.

He knew that she was broken.

And he loved her anyway. Keep reading…

veryfaintveryhuman

*SCREECHING* SIGNATURE FOREHEAD TOUCH RIGHT THERE IN THE BEGINNING, I’M ALREADY D E A D. GOODBYE, WORLD.

That she might, for the first time in twenty years, have a family to call her own.

Ma’am, please, I’m already so fragile from Claire’s tears and her anxiety over the Fraser family not accepting her, but this?! Stabbing me in the heart would kill me faster!!!! 😭 I can feel her hope strung between the words and sentences; it’s like this living, breathing entity throughout this fic. And it’s moments like these ones between Jamie and Claire where I know the title Atonement is so, so perfectly chosen. Ugh, I freaking love your talent.

She panted out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a sob, pulling him down to her with shaking hands.

Terrified.

Elated.

And his. Oh God, finally his.

*gestures at this* OH FUCK YOU

Jamie was a large man, impressively tall, with broad shoulders, long hands and feet; she’d known, on some level, that he would be… proportionate.

Heheheheheheheheheheheh 🌚🌝 SOON, CLAIRE, SOON.

“Are ye actually going to kiss me this time?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

Seriously get the fuck out right now, I love them so much okay?!?!? I love this slow, nostalgic dance that they’re doing around each other. I can both feel the tension building between them for something more while at the same time, it has such a beautiful, flirtatious quality to it. AS IT SHOULD. THESE BABIES DESERVE TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER.

Jamie parted for her on a sigh, but neither of them rushed to deepen the kiss; their lips simply glided, molding to one another from above and below, one side and the next, languid and rhythmless.

I also want to say how much I love this little part because while I literally said YES FINALLY out loud, I love that it’s Jamie’s lips that part for hers, rather than the other way around. This feels like such a pivotal moment for Claire; she’s finally taking what she wants, even in some small capacity, learning not only that it’s okay to want Jamie, to love Jamie, but also that it’s okay to want period. I am IN MY FEELS RIGHT NOW, LEAVE ME ALONE.

“Mo chridhe…” he continued, kissing a heated trail down the line of her sternum until he reached the spot where her heart was pounding beneath the thin strip of bone. There, he paused to rest his forehead reverently for a moment. “My heart.”

I AM CALLING THE POLICE. STOP THIS TENDERNESS RIGHT NOW. We came out here for sexy times and you’re giving us FEELS TOO?! THE AUDACITY.

... please, ma’am, may I have some more?!

Oh, look, there it is. More nostalgia. Jamie washing Claire’s hair this time.

OH HELLO, “I WANT TO WATCH YE” SCENE, LONG TIME NO SEE 🌚🌝

EKSLAFKL;SKDL;AFKL ;SKLF; HOW IS IT EVEN HOTTER IN THIS STORY, I DON’T UNDERSTAND

Just.

Oh my god.

This was so beautiful to read, a goddamn delight, Danielle. Even though this was just a small taste of what I know is coming (*cough cough* Or who *cough cough*), this was still so satisfying on so many levels. Emotional, physical, we’re nearing the plunge into what we’ve been waiting months and months for, and I know it’s still going to get better and better from here. AND I CANNA WAIT.

I SALUTE YOU.

#Fic Rec #Fic Rec: Atonement #author: smashingteacups #Fic Rec: Outlander #HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO #Okay but also THIS MOODBOARD #WOOOOOOOOO

tulipnight

Superstitions by John Groseclose

#Where You'll Wander #Queue

sassnach

#NSFW #otp: i look for you in everything #Jamie x Claire #Outlander #Queue

jamiemctxvish

#otp: i look for you in everything #Jamie x Claire #Outlander #Queue

vulpeculai

#Darklina #Aleksander x Alina #Shadow and Bone #OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE YOU TWO #I HATE YOU #Queue

morganoperandi

I’m a cis-gender man which basically means that, when I was born, the doctor went “It’s a boy!” and when I was old enough to understand I agreed with him.

The thing is, I don’t know why I feel like a man. I was teased and bullied for it a lot when I was little. I’ve never had stereotypically American male interests. I never cared about sports or cars or guns. I was more interested in music and cooking and the arts. I’ve always been emotionally in tune and sensitive, even when I did my best to suppress my emotions to survive a childhood of abuse from other children.

It’s not physical either. I don’t feel like a man because I have a penis or a beard. If you put my brain in a robot body or any other body, my essence would still feel male (I assume). I literally can’t imagine what being any other gender would feel like, since I feel so acutely male.

I think that’s why the concept of being transgender always made sense to me. I’m a man. I don’t have any bloody clue why I feel like a man, but I don’t feel that it’s tied to my body or my interests or the way that I’ve been treated. I feel like a man because of something beyond that. Something ephemeral. So, why couldn’t others feel the same? Why couldn’t a person who’s been misidentified as a girl feel like a boy for the exact same nebulous reasons that I do?

And, since gender really doesn’t make any sense to me anyway, why couldn’t there also be people who feel as if they don’t have one? Or who flow across genders like a ship on a map?

Are there people out there whose sense of their own gender is inseparable from their physical form? If you put those people into robot bodies or, simply, other physically different bodies, would their gender identity also swap? If so, why? Are they actually more lost in their gender identity than I am and they need to hone in on the physical in order to anchor themselves?

Why do people feel like they are the gender that they are?

sir-renaissance

This is very soul filling to read. Thank you

5typesoftrash

My grandfather, who had a difficult time coming to terms with it when I came out, has been working very hard to understand me and my experience. About 5 weeks ago, he asked me, almost offhand, “why are you so sure that you’re a man?”

And I replied, “well, I could ask you the same thing.” And I moved on, continued, tried to explain why I feel the way that I do, but I don’t think he heard any of those things that I said afterward.

Because six days later, we talked about it again, and this is what he told me:

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said last week. Because all my life I identified it as ‘these are the parts that I have, and so I am a man’. But you’re living proof that gender is not limited to what is attached to your body, so I asked myself, why am I a man? And all I can say is ‘because I have no idea what it feels like to be anything else’. I cannot imagine what it’s like to be a woman. Or neither, or both, or any other gender. I have always been a man.”

And I replied, “that’s exactly what it feels like for me.”

So, shoutout to my cisgender grandfather, for stumbling upon the essence of being trans accidentally, with very little help from me. I love you, grandpa.