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@greerslz1

COMING SOON

"Little Bit Better Than It Used To Be" takes place during the summer of 1987. It's the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

Debuting next week.

I look forward to finally sharing it with you.

Here's a sneak peek at the first chapter:

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“Excuse me?”

She turned to see a tall man, red hair down to his shoulders, colorful tattoos covering every inch of his arms and disappearing beneath the sleeves of a well-fitted black t-shirt.

“May I sit next to you?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He flopped down into the chair, crossed his long legs, and lay both palms on the armrests, thumbs tapping a quick beat.

“First day?”

It had been forty six hours since her last fix, and pain sliced her skull. She hadn’t gone this long without in more than a year. “Yes,” she murmured.

Now his fingers joined in the tapping. “Thought so. The new ones always come in the middle of the day – that’s why Group is always in the afternoons. So we can have our individual sessions in the morning, and meet all together in the afternoon. It helps to stick to a schedule.”

She turned in the chair to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her – just gazing straight ahead – but he kept talking. “Anyway, it’ll just be a few minutes until dinner. I hope you like Mexican – they take Taco Tuesdays pretty seriously around here.”

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name. I know we introduced ourselves at Group, but it’s all just a blur.”

He turned to face her, and she could hear his smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’re Claire – pills addict. That’s what you told us, anyway.”

“It’s true.”

“Well then.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jamie – I’m an alcoholic. Bourbon, mostly. And a little bit of cocaine, now and again.”

She gripped his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Coming next week!

Wee Preview— Out of the Clear Blue Sky: Milestones, Part 2

(A little over a year later 😬 Sorry to keep you — and my poor Pilot Frasers! — hanging, but I’ve been working on this a little bit every day, and will hopefully get it posted very soon. And no, I didn’t forget my Atonement babies, just taking a wee break to give my Pilots some attention!)

I fucking hated Las Vegas.

Hated the crowds, the smell, the heat, the noise, the flashing neon signs on every bloody surface of the city. Even the airport was a garish assault to the senses, humming with the incessant noise and whirling lights of slot machines.

Historically, I’d avoided routes to McCarran International Airport like the plague. But on that particular Monday afternoon, I rolled my eyes skywards in a silent prayer of thanks to whichever senior pilot had outbid me on my preferred route to San Francisco, bumping me to an eighteen-hour layover in this insufferable desert hellhole.

Jamie was here.

Less than three minutes after I’d watched him disappear down the jet bridge in Vancouver, my mobile had pinged with my first text message from him. It was a screenshot of his work schedule for the next month, accompanied by a cheeky See any overlap, “Sassinak?” 😉

I’d quickly pulled up my own schedule, all thoughts of returning to my hotel room temporarily forgotten. I spent the next hour perched on the cold metal windowsill at his gate, meticulously cross-checking every last one of our flights. My cheeks warmed and my stomach fluttered each time I caught an overlap; I immediately highlighted those days in red on my mobile’s calendar. Jamie was mid-air by the time I replied to him with my own schedule and a list of every layover we shared, including how long we’d have at each location.

The first of our rendezvous points was six days later, in the City of Sin.

Even I could begrudgingly admit the humor in that.

Atonement, Chapter 35

A/N: Thank you, as always, for your extraordinary patience while I navigate single motherhood with an infant, a full time job, and trying to write at the same time! I know the wait has been long between chapters and I appreciate that you guys are still along for the ride. Please be advised that this chapter earns its explicit rating for strong sexual content.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: The Bear and Ragged Staff, Part II

It was the absence of her that woke him.

Claire must have been careful in extracting herself from his arms; by the time Jamie rolled over, instinctively seeking her warmth, the dip in her pillow was cool to the touch. Cracking one eye open, he raised his head to squint around the room. It took a moment for him to register the muffled sound of running water, and another before he followed it to a slant of golden light beneath the bathroom door.

Smiling, he relaxed back into her pillow with a soft grunt of contentment.

It smelled like her. 

Still adrift in the watery daze between waking and sleeping, he dozed on his belly for a few more minutes before he snuffled and stretched, then rolled back over to grab his mobile off the bedside table.

The notification banners on his lock screen jolted him awake with all the subtlety of an overturned bucket of ice water.

48 unread texts, 21 WhatsApp messages, 3 new voicemails. 

Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a low scoffing sound that bordered on a growl. 

The rational part of his brain recognized, on some level, that firing back at Jenny the way he wanted to was not going to help matters any. Still, the knowledge that those messages contained any number of vicious remarks about the woman he loved, character assassinations from people who had never even spoken to her, never even given her a chanceChrist, it made him want to just—

For a moment he held completely still, the bridge of his nose pinched between thumb and forefinger. 

When his lungs began to burn, he drew in a deep, fortifying breath.

On the exhale, he closed out his text thread with his sister before he said something he couldn’t take back, and wisely switched over to his chat with Ian instead.

Claire and I need a few days to ourselves. We’re at a hotel in Oxford for now, gonna hunker down here for a bit and drive up when we’re both ready. 

His thumbs hovered over the keypad for a moment before he added, This is happening, Ian. It’s not open to negotiation. I promised you I have an explanation, and I do. Trust that I have a shred of common sense in my head, aye? And if you can get Jen to call off the feckin wolf pack, that would be grand. All it’s doing is pissing me off. 

I’ll text you when we’re on the way up. In the meantime, I’m unplugging for a bit. Talk to you in a few days, brother.

Instruments of Flight - ONE

Here it is, the first chapter. I’m ready to get this show on the road! 

I will post updates as soon as I am able, but I can’t make any promises because life is undoubtedly unpredictable! Thank you for reading!

[AO3]

[[Disclaimer: This story is, to some degree, inspired by the last year, where we’ve all struggled in our own way with Covid-19. I am aware that this is a heavy topic, and I want you to know that death and perhaps some mild violence will be included in this story. If you have been impacted in any way by Covid-19, or if death and violence aren’t your cup of tea, please use discretion when reading. As I post each chapter, I will include any trigger warnings that may be present in said chapter. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask!]  

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Summary: After a viral outbreak of unknown origins spirals out of control all over the world, healthcare workers in the UK are deemed essential, and eventually staying at their jobs in hospitals becomes compulsory. To leave means to become a deserter, a felon in the eyes of the government. To stay means certain death. Doctor Claire Beauchamp, a medical professional in London, is forced to make this difficult decision. Finding herself at the mercy of a group of individuals willing to help smuggle people like her out of the danger zones in an effort to save their lives, she seizes the opportunity, finding herself sent to a large, mostly empty farm. Avoiding arrest, trapped indoors during a never-ending winter, guilt eats away at her and and she struggles to remain afloat. Jamie Fraser, the owner of Lallybroch, battles his own demons after years of solitude. Could it be that the two of them might give one another life again?

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Chapter One

Claire dreamed of the hospital. Long corridors full of beds, patients lining the narrow walkway lined with fluorescent lights. The cries of agony from those that could manage it rang in her ears as she took a deep breath, her throat constricting as the odor of antiseptic filled her lungs. She often dreamed these hospital dreams - her only world for three years. She’d hated how she could never wash the smell from her clothes, or her skin. Now it was simply a part of her - a telltale sign of her life’s work. One she now wanted to shed at any cost. 

The men, wearing protective gear in case the test was positive, had come at around one in the morning, as planned. They found her sitting in her kitchen chair, waiting. They scooped the envelope of cash up, stuffed it roughly in a pocket. Claire hoped it would keep a family afloat - they needed it more than she did. They’d not uttered a word, quickly administering the test. Pricking her left index finger, a small bead of blood appeared, and one man pressed her finger to a small glass vial. They waited, staring at the vial. The liquid inside mingled with Claire’s blood, turning a dark blue. The test was negative. She let out a breath, and with a pound of her fists on her thighs to fortify herself, she stood, wrapping herself in her warmest coat, and nodded. It was time to leave.

The men ushered her out the door and made their way to a dark-colored van parked in a poorly lit corner of the garage attached to her building. The back was hers - she had a blanket to lie on, and one to cover herself with. One man mumbled something about checkpoints to her, and the other gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he threw the top blanket over her. Claire had known it would be a long ride, at least twenty-four hours that included a lot of stopping in dark car parks and hidden dirt roads to time her arrival just right. Burrowing into the blankets as best she could, she made herself as comfortable as possible, but she hadn’t expected to sleep at all. 

Claire dozed off and on throughout, one lucid dream after another flashed in her mind as she felt the rough road knocking the van back and forth. Whenever she needed the facilities, they’d allow her out at a service area that was picked carefully in advance. The roads were near empty no matter the time of day, but it was safer to be cautious as the men moved her north.

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STAY CH 16

I am absolutely gobsmacked by all the love this wee story has gotten over time. I did not intend for it to take as long as it did to find the ending to this story, but alas, life and circumstances (and a f*cking pandemic) got in the way. BUT- it’s here. The final chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride. This story started off as a prompt about a trope that I had always enjoyed but never considered writing. I am glad I took the leap and am forever grateful for the support and beta magic that are @abreathofsnowandwaffles​ and @missclairebelle​. Without you both I would never have attempted this. I love you both.

To everyone who has read, shared, and enjoyed (even a little!) this story, thank you.

Previously

Whole.

The word danced around the corners of her mind. Her eyes shifted from him to the golden hues splashed across the sky. Was she whole? Twisting her wrist for inspection, she felt no sharp pain, just a dull ache from use.

No longer broken.

Now came the recovery. As a doctor she had seen the scans, she knew the rehabilitation trajectory. Yet here, with him, the statistics and analytical journal findings faded from mental view. Here, in this moment, she was simply Claire. With Jamie. Her Jamie. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over her.

“I think I know exactly what you mean,” drawing her gaze back to him, she exhaled contentedly. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his, taking it gently. “Thank you, Jamie.”

“Och, ‘tis nothing lass.” Dirt-stained fingertips pressed into her skin. His warmth encompassed her.

“Jamie…” she started, her eyes lowering to see their fingers intertwined. Blinking hard and tilting her face to meet his, she finished, “I don’t just mean for today.”

An echo of a smile tugged at his lips and he exhaled.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” His voice hummed, soft and tender. “There’s the two of us now.”

His words were so simple. But there was something in the blue of his eyes that spoke to the depth of his meaning. Her breath caught as she felt the same weight of prophecy to his words.

Shot 17 times while pregnant this pupper is now a registered therapy dog.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Nearly choked up thinking about this poor dog being shot 17 times and having to survive such a trauma

Giving love and hope to others

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Anonymous asked:

Oh... totally on board with bree dying. Can you share insight why you think that? And can we move that up to s5?

Rewatch the bee hunting scene and what Jamie tells her about moving the bees.

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moving the bees is talking about her moving to the past. 

Gold Dust Woman: Ch.4 - “Closer” 

a/n: I can never thank @lcbeauchampoftarth enough for fixing my grammar on a weekly basis and being such a great support to my writing! Thank you all for reading this and for the nice words on the last chapter. I’m so glad this version of Jamie and Claire is so endearing for the loads of you, I can’t wait to share more of their journey! Sorry I didn’t updated yesterday but thank you every for the bday messages! 
Enjoy <3 

When Claire woke up, she was disoriented and sweaty. Very sweaty. Her head had stopped spinning but the feeling of nausea remained. Opening her big whisky eyes, she frowned at the face glancing down at her. It was a redhead, alright, but not the one she was expecting.

The first “I’m gay” you say is usually tearful and scared and preceding probable disaster. Almost shameful. 

I think it’s a power move that the hundredth time you say it is usually loud, obnoxious, nonsensical or in the face of some lame hetero who “doesnt get” gay pride. 

Edinburgh To Boston Chapter 8 - The Morning After.

Hello all, I am so sorry for the delay in posting this. It took a bit of time for all the corrections and rewrites that I had to do. I know some of you had read the preview but it has not changed too much.

I also want to thank everyone for their kind words and good wishes when I explained that things were delayed because my husband had taken ill.  He is well and back to himself.  I am adjusting to the new job and a little less crazy. A little I said.

I do need to thank two very special people @curlsgetdemgurls and @ladyviolethummingbird for being my betas on this chapter.  I don’t know what I would have done without them. They are the best.

I am not promising when the next chapter will be out except to say that it is underway. I dislike promising something that I can’t keep.

So without further ado, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston Chapter 8 The Morning After

Jamie Fraser laid in his hotel bed watching the dawn slowly break over the frozen sleeping city. The sky underwent a metamorphosis transitioning from the inky black of night to the vibrant colors of the day.  Streaks of hot pink, vivid orange, and fiery golden yellow glowed in the heavens splattering across an underlying electric blue.  It was breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful as to cause him to weep. But nothing could surpass the goddess who slept beside him. Claire. His Sorcha, his light.

Love this chapter and damn 🔥🔥🔥🔥