Good!Beth

You can mind your own bloody business and so can Saint Paul.

[jonjos-library]

For those who follow me who are not in the Outlander fandom I want to try and explain what went down yesterday. (15th January 2022).

For years - literally years - an LGBTQIA+ section of the fandom has existed. However, on social media and especially on stories that contain Queer characters or plots and themes, there has been consistent trolling, bullying, and negative comments including homophobic hate messages.

Yesterday a number of people within the Queer section of the fandom started receiving anon hate. However, the spelling wording and tenor of the messages was the same as publicly posted tumblr posts from known accounts. And one account in particular. This account was making hate-filled responses to blog posts made by people within the LGBTQIA+ corner of the fandom.

When the individual user was challenged by specific blog users (happy to mention names but only if they consent) the tone of the messages became more serious and began including personal attacks. Now the messages were not just attacking Queer characters, Queer interpretations or Queer storytelling but now including personal attacks of a homophobic and hateful nature against individuals within the fandom.

These messages included as I say, attacks of a personal nature. Some of these were relatively petty but some of them escalated up to encouragment to self harm and encouragement for someone to take their own life. Death threats, people. We are talking about named blogs of known individuals sending death threats to users because of who they are or the way they write fictional characters.

Its easy to sit by and think, ‘Wow that looks ugly!’ And do nothing.

This fandom has a serious problem with hate and yes, with the alt-right. The fandom has ingrained homophobic, racist and white supremacist narratives. Some of that comes from the way the original canon texts express themselves.

When someone receives a message telling them to go kill themselves, the correct response is not to sit by on the sidelines.

This fandom needs to decide what it thinks is right. And I feel I have an obligation as the writer of stories like Triquetra which I am aware changed the zeitgeist of the fandom for a lot of people, I feel I have an obligation to use whatever small platform I may have to stand up against hate and bullying.

I lived through the gaslighting, sock-puppeting, the plagiarism, and so much more. But really it comes down to this:

Either you believe in decency or you don’t. Either you believe in the inherent worth of human beings or you don’t. Either you believe in standing up for what is right or you don’t.

Now is the time to let the world know what you believe.

No one is saying every single user on the internet ever has to personally go to war with every troll. But whoever you are, and whatever your fandom (or none) a show of support from outwith the LGBTQIA+ section of the Outlander fandom would mean a lot. This corner of the fandom has been fighting this fight - that other people keep bringing to them - for a long time. Years and years at this point.

Please, if you think that the spreading of hate messages and death threats is wrong, consider posting a short blog post expressing your solidarity.

Give hate no quarter.

Do not tolerate intolerance. Thank you for your time.

[walkinginland]

Every friend group should include….

(inspired by this text post. all original (pre-edited) screengrabs from Outlander-Online and farfarawaysite)

[convivialcamera]

Strap in.

I’ve had some eggnog and I want to talk about Claire Fraser and her third husband Lord John Grey.

Claire and John’s relationship cracks me the fuck up, like, constantly. It’s really cute when they meet in Voyager on the ship — that is some awesome fucking kismet, dudes. They are so alike it kinda hurts me. John sees Claire for what she is, and appreciates her at her full value (as a surgeon, as a warrior), and Claire sees his honor and dignity. It’s good.

Of course, Claire’s screamingly jealous once she gets a full history and realizes that there’s another person who might actually genuinely love Jamie as much as she does (obviously as many feelings as John has [and man they contain multitudes] John and Claire both know Jamie in very different ways and therefore can’t love him in the same way and Claire gets ALL THE DIBS because she’s the one married to Jamie anyhoo) because Claire’s Gonna Claire. I’m pretty sure Claire would’ve straight-up murdered Laoghaire if given the opportunity, just so she can be the only one of Jamie’s wives alive. So John is a problem for her (a hilarious one, I love her so much).

So like they hash it out in Drums and they come to this détente wherein they both grudgingly respect each other while acknowledging that being in different colonies is probably a good thing. I think also John’s adventures with Brianna are very sobering for him, and ups his respect for Claire for putting up with not one but TWO Frasers and their batshit crazy (John has not yet fully realized he’s raising one who’s gonna out batshit both father and half-sister, so joke’s on him).

Is this still making sense? Eggnog with bourbon is delish.

BUT ANYWAYS this détente goes on for like three books until Jamie “drowns” in a “shipwreck” and John does the most ridiculously John thing ever and marries Claire because she’s been spying and poorly (CLAIRE YOU DUMBASS). Even married, nothing changes until …

 …  Claire fucks Lord John Grey’s brains out. 

I mean, I’m assuming. Claire likes to drink, and she likes to fuck, and even if Jamie’s not dead she’s not above killing off spouses in her backstory to get some. (THIS IS A JOKE BUT ONLY KINDA.) 

After the, ahem, incident, Claire suddenly likes John. They’re, like, almost buddies. She suddenly has an immense pool of empathy for him that she didn’t really seem to have before. She bones John and then they get along. Which is just like, Classic Claire.

So classic. 

Some of the best parts of MOBY are Claire and John teaming up in the face of Fraser shenanigans. How tragic for Jamie to come back from the dead and suddenly have TWO people united against his bullshit! (Also hilarious, I love it when Jamie doesn’t get his way because I hold grudges against fictional characters and I’m petty as shit.) It’s all great!

So Claire liking and then hating and then boning and then liking John Grey is one of the highlights of the series for me. She is such a messy bench who lives for drama and I am into it. 

[fierceweebadger]

I’m cackling. The ACCURACY.

[fierceweebadger]

Chapter 3: A Sky Full of Stars

Claire had been staring uselessly at her closet for what felt like an age. She knew what she needed to do: the thing she had been trying her best to avoid, for the intrusive questions it was sure to unleash. But the simple fact was that with Jamie due to arrive in just 24 minutes, she was in desperate need of help.

Picking up her mobile with a resigned sigh, she typed out a quick message.

You home? I need some fashion advice.

Two minutes later, Claire heard her front door open and close, followed by the click of fashionably high-heeled footsteps coming down the hall to her bedroom – where she stood surrounded by every article of clothing she owned, strewn across every flat surface available.

“Did a hurricane pass through Paris wi’out my noticin’?” Gillian asked from the doorway, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Yes, that’s obviously what’s happened,” Claire replied, with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Come on, Gill. I’m short on time and you’re the fashion guru. Help a girl out.”

Gillian sidled across the room and – relocating one of the piles to make space – made herself comfortable on Claire’s bed, legs crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Alright, my snippy wee friend. Tell me what it is that you’ll be doing, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Claire ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “That’s the main problem. I don’t know!”

This bit of information was greeted with a quick twitch of perfectly sculpted eyebrows and an injunction to “Explain. Now.”

“All he said was that he’d pick me up at 7. Which is in….” Claire glanced nervously at the clock. “19 minutes.”

Gill’s face lit up in a mischievous grin. “Oh, so we’re no’ talking about a work function, then? Does this ‘he’ have a name? And why do you no’ just text him and ask what the plan is?”

Claire proceeded to give Gillian a quick rundown of the situation, knowing she’d receive zero helpful advice until she’d spilled the dirt. Yes, he had a name. No, she didn’t have his number. Yes, he’d exited her apartment somewhat...precipitously...the previous evening. No, she didn’t want to talk about it.

“And what might this mystery man look like, eh? Please, Claire, tell me he’s handsome and not another drab history professor.”

“First of all, let’s not bring up Frank right now. Or ever again, actually,” Claire huffed, glancing once more at the clock. “And secondly, you’ll see him for yourself in 15 minutes, and I’d rather not still be naked when he gets here!”

“Och, I dinna think he’d mind so much, but as you wish.”

Continue reading

[fierceweebadger]

Felt inspired to make a moodboard for Triquetra by Faeriechild.

This fic will not be everyone’s cup of tea. But if you’re open to exploring an amazing story outside the normal OTP mold, I highly recommend this one.

It’s a beautiful depiction of complicated humans.

Thanks for sharing this journey with us, @faeriesfanficblog 🥰

(Also note you MUST have an AO3 account to read this story.)

[thelallybrochlibrary]

Hey Lovely Librarians, I’m looking for any 1920s/prohibition era fics, please. xx

Hi Anon!

We’ve got two that may fit what you’re looking for:

Scatter the Night by @owlish-peacock36

Shades by @gotham-ruaidh for @imagineclaireandjamie

While the Band Played On by @fierceweebadger

Happy Reading!

[fierceweebadger]

Awww thanks for the love, librarians. 🥰

[avasetocallmyown]

              1x09  ||  5x07  ➺ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 @𝗰𝗮𝗷𝗼𝗻-𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲   

[fierceweebadger]

this is beautifully painful

[fierceweebadger]

Hope of Heaven

Jamie wasn’t much bothered by the cold. 

Even as a wee lad, he would leap into the freezing loch without a second thought, swimming and splashing until his lips turned blue. And he could still recall clear as day the time Jenny had stolen the last honeyed bannock right out of his hand, thinking she could escape by running out the kitchen door into the kaleyard. Despite his lack of shoes, Jamie had chased her into the frosty garden, intent on reclaiming his prize despite his mam’s howls that he’d “catch yer death of cold, clotheid!” 

No, he didn’t mind the chill. But nonetheless, he loved the fire. 

There was something about the crackling of embers that called to him, a music that bypassed his tone-deaf ears and spoke straight to his soul. Perhaps it was just a feeling passed down from his ancestors, from a time when fire meant safety from the wild beasts and terrors of the darkness. Or maybe it just reminded him of the home he missed and the feeling of family all around -- the air suffused with quiet contentment as much as the smell of peat smoke. 

As he leaned down to place another log on the fire, his thoughts drifted to the new ‘family’ which surrounded him now, sitting around the campfire on this crisp evening. 

Rupert was telling tales, as he did most nights on the road -- Jamie hadn’t really been listening tonight, but he thought this one was about a dragon and some buxom maidens. Angus was sharpening his knives, the rasp of the whetstone adding another note of music to the air. Willie was tending to the horses, double checking that the lines were secure as they settled in for the night. Dougal and Ned sat off to one side, heads bent over a parchment, likely discussing money of one kind or another. And Murtagh was reclining against a rock, scraping something from under his nails with his sgian-dubh  -- outwardly calm and relaxed, but eyes ever alert and scanning for danger. 

Jamie had always loved nights like these, sleeping outdoors with only the stars above him, watching the clouds of his own breath drift upwards to meet them. He enjoyed the company of the lads, the ribald jokes and full belly laughs. It almost felt like having a brother again, the knowledge that these men would fight back-to-back with him. No, it wasn’t  quite the same -- of these men, his godfather was the only one he trusted implicitly and without question. But this camaraderie was better than nothing, better than the aching loneliness he’d felt during his time in exile. 

But in that moment, loneliness was something he never expected to feel again in his life, and the company of the men around the fire was more an impediment to his joy than a comfort. 

He would have traded his very soul for a soft bed, four walls and a door that  locked.  

Continue reading on AO3

[jemscorner]

I have lived through war and lost much.

I know what’s worth the fight, and what is not.

For the sake of love alone, would I walk through fire again.

~ The Fiery Cross

[kalendraashtar]

Hi, can you pls post a master list of all your fic here on tumblr? Thanks. You’re an amazing writer and I hope someday you’ll be inspired by JC again. 💖

I’m sorry it took me so long (and to all others in my inbox, I see you. The current health crisis is beating my arse - when the time is right again, I’ll get to you!). Here it is, lovely, my complete master list:

Something Beautiful - Claire Beauchamp, successful emergency physician, secretly harbours feelings for her best friend’s fiancé, Frank Randall. With the help of her long time friend, neighbour and confidant, James Fraser, she is forced to search her heart until she finds something beautiful.

Part I - Duck, Part II - Eat The Sky, Part III - Haircut,Part IV - Glasgow, Part V - Spinster, Part VI - Ae Fond Kiss, Part VII - Tease, Part VIII - A Rush of Water, Part IX - Law of Cooling, Part X - And Then We Start

Something Beautiful II - Sequel to “Something Beautiful”. After their friendship has been set afire, Claire “Sassenach” Beauchamp and Jamie “Duck” Fraser navigate their budding romantic relationship, until Claire realizes it’s time to make a bold choice.

Part I - Knickers, Part II - Wicked, Part III - Pros and Cons, Part IV - Brunch, Part V - Family, Part VI - Skinny-Dipping, Part VII - Tokens, Part VIII - Flannel & Lace, Part IX - Husband (I), Part X - Husband (II)

Ficlet I, Ficlet II, Ficlet III, Ficlet IV, Ficlet V

Magnificent Strangers - Faced with a devastating diagnosis, Claire Beauchamp uses humour as her weapon of choice. One day, during treatment, her path collides with that of a magnificent stranger.

Part I - Third Cycle, Part II - Something Missing,Part III - Not Jane Austen, Part IV - Remission, Part V - Bonny Smile

Scalpel & Needle - Jamie and Claire are surgeons working together but they can’t see eye to eye. However, a secret admirer has found a special place in her heart.

Arc I: Incision

Part I - Rivalry, Part II - Pipes and Drums, Part III - The Enemy of my Foe, Part IV - Mass Casualty, Part V - Breathless and Shirtless, Part VI - Confessions of an Empty Glass, Part VII - Second Best, Part VIII - Hot Appendix, Part IX - Commotio Cordis, Part X - Scalpel, Part XI - Best served cold, Part XII - Tourniquet, Part XIII - The Beauchamp Method, Part XIV - The Healer, Part XV - Date, Part XVI - Firsts, Part XVII - Malpractice, Part XVIII - Needle, Part XIX - Freehand, Part XX - The Morning We Met, Part XXI - Heart-shaped, Part XXII - Jealousy, Part XXIII - Chief of Surgery, Part XXIV - Keys,  Part XXV -And He Knows That  

Arc II: Deep Tissue

Part I - Zero-Sum Game, Part II - Ribcage, Part III - Tethers, Part IV - Sin-Eater, Part V - Tell It To The Moon, Part VI - Moment of Tangency, Part VII -Inked, Part VIII - The Woman, Part IX - Portree, Part X - Skylight, Part XI -STD, Part XII - Deep Tissue, Part XIII - Suture

Scalpel & Needle (Christmas Special) - Nutmeg

Dark Shines - Haunted by a difficult past, James Fraser fully dedicates himself to his job as a criminal profiler for the New Scotland Yard. As a series of ritualistic and gruesome murders shakes Edinburgh to its core, he is forced to dive deep into the underworld and seek help from a mordern day witch, the mysterious Claire Beauchamp.

Part I - Four Women, Part II - Address of a Witch, Part III - Tasseography, Part IV - Conversations With Cats, Part V - The Eraser, Part VI - Opioids, Part VII - The Dove, Part VIII - Witness, Part IX - The Fall, Part X - The Demon

Broken Crown - Spies AU

1.0, 2.0, 2.1, 2.2, 3.0, 3.1, 3.2, 3.3, 3.4, 3.5, 3.6, 3.7, 4.0, 4.½, 4.1, 4.2, 4.3, 4.4, 4.5, 4.6, 4.7, 4.8, 4.9, 5.0, 5.1, 5.2, 5.3, 5.4, 5.5, 5.6, 5.7, 0.0

Beauchamp Riots - Modern AU. Jamie and Claire have been best friends for five years. When Jamie announces his impending marriage, Claire is forced to finally confront her true feelings.

Part I - Pretzel Logic, Part II - Two Can Waltz, Part III - Dresses & Question Marks, Part IV (Finale) - Morning Glory

Stealing Tomorrow - Jamie and Claire were young and in love – until their relationship came to a heartbreaking end. After fifteen years, when Claire comes back to Scotland and her path crosses again with Jamie’s, they have a second chance to prove that they are meant to be together. (Modern AU)

Chapter 1 - In media res, Chapter 2 - Forget Me Not, Chapter 3 - As We Were, Chapter 4 - They All Come Rushing Back, Chapter 5 - Boston Calling, Chapter 6 - Sins of a Lover, Chapter 7 - Find Me, Chapter 8 - Master of Me, Epilogue - Tomorrow Is Now

Constellations series - Are some people truly meant to be together, unexplainably attracted to each other? In each small story, Jamie and Claire meet – in different places, times and circumstances – and fall in love.

Orion, Sirius, Crux, The Second Sighting of Sirius, Andromeda, Sirius Supernova, Betelgeuse, Perseus, Cassiopeia, Columba, Phoenix, Draco

Testament of Light - Claire and Jamie meet in therapy (Angst) [tw: suicide; tw: depression]

Happier - Song ficlet for Ed Sheeran’s Happier.

Promise - Song ficlet for Ben Howard’s Promise.

His Name is Home - Ficlet inspired by the movie “If I Stay” and Claire’s illness during ABOSAA (Modern AU).

Tales of Us - A story about legacy. Outlander Secret Santa 2016.

House of the Undying Fire - Claire is a pristess of Vesta and Jamie a Gladiator (Rome AU).

Promise Not To Fall - Claire and Jamie meet in Prague (Hooker AU).

A Deserving Suitor - Roger is dating Brianna and now has to face the hardest test of all - meeting Jamie Fraser (AU).

Mistress Fraser’s Wondrous Concoction - A small moment between Claire and Jamie during the year spent in Lallybroch after France (previous to the Battle of Culloden).

Worthy of Love - How Mandy came to be Amanda Claire Hope MacKenzie.

Nurse Randall - Claire was born to be a healer. But how did she find her calling, training as a nurse during WWII?

Fatherhood - Short tales about Fatherhood from Claire, Frank and Jamie’s voices.

Motherhood - Short tales about Motherhood from Jamie, Brianna and Jenny’s voices.

You can also find all my unfinished fics here. ❤️

[fierceweebadger]

This gives “master list” a whole new meaning.

I will be forever grateful for these stories. 💜

[daisyjonesdailylines-deactivate]

For those of you who asked me about Claryclark. Please read. And just remember, as a vocal proponent about plagiarism a while back, when a fanfic author tells you they feel ripped off, believe them. Thanks to @smashing-teacups for setting the record straight. I am sorry to everyone who called Clary friend. You deserved better.

Sad and disheartening news

What I’m about to say is going to be disheartening, disappointing, and saddening/infuriating to a lot of people in this fandom, and to be th

[fierceweebadger]

Chapter 2: Ready or Not

Paris, 2035

Jamie and Claire abandoned their bar stools for a cozy table by the window, bathed in the glow of a single candle perched between them.

They sipped their wine in silence for a minute before Claire blurted out the question that was uppermost in her mind. “What brings you back to Paris, Jamie? In town for long?”

“The crew and I just got in yesterday. Here for a fortnight to sort out some bits and bobs at headquarters. Paperwork. Never-ending medical checks,” he chuckled softly. “All the less fun parts of the job, I’m afraid.”

A small sigh of relief escaped her lips, from a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “So...you’re still an astronaut then?”

The smile that lit Jamie’s face was one of pure, unadulterated joy. It was such a childlike expression that Claire could vividly picture the small boy he had once been, curls flying wildly as he zoomed around the house — toy rocket ship raised high above his head — leaping from furniture despite shouted injunctions to “be careful!”

“Aye, lass, I am still. And I thank God for it every day. I dinna ken how to be anything else.”

She could see the gratitude in his face, not just for God but for her as well; for helping to save a little boy’s dreams and a brave man’s heart. There were words there, so many words lurking behind those eyes, but he seemed to recognise that the speaking of them was unnecessary.

The intensity of their gaze was almost overwhelming, and Claire was actually relieved when the arrival of their surly waiter burst the moment like a soap bubble.

Continue reading

[happytoobserve-deactivated20211]

STOP what you are doing and check out this story!

@fierceweebadger is bringing us Astronaut Jamie in "The Bonds Of Earth"! 🔥👨🏼‍🚀🔥

I am so excited for this!

Look at her awesome moodboard! (Modified due to Tumblr flagging it as "adult content")

https://twitter.com/HappyObserve/status/1218215383896690688?s=19

Happy To Observe on Twitter

“STOP what you are doing and read this story. 🛑 👨🏻‍🚀 Astronaut Jamie 👨🏼‍🚀 is a flavor we all need in our lives!🔥 I can't wait to see what

Love you Beth! I can't wait to see where you take us on this adventure! 😍

[fierceweebadger]

Thank you for the love, darling! You’re always the biggest cheerleader and it’s so appreciated. ❤️

And apologies everyone else. I’m really rubbish at tumblr but find me on ao3 and Twitter under the same handle. xoxo

[fierceweebadger]

While The Band Played On  (Moodboard Challenge Oneshot)

This is my one shot for the Moodboard Challenge. Thanks again for organising, @iamnottrisha​ and @outlanderlush​!

The gorgeous and highly inspiring moodboard is by @yogini_koo! I just hope I have done it justice.

And thanks also to my betas Danielle, Saba, Britt & Katie. (Yes, I need four, don't judge me!) If this story is any good at all, it's because of you.

This is the first piece of writing I have ever shared publicly, so I hope you enjoy it. *runs & hides*

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The strains of a saxophone floated through the cool night air to where I waited in the rainswept alley behind the club. Waited for a man I wasn’t sure would come.

He was late.

Maybe he hadn’t found the note slipped discreetly in his pocket. Perhaps he thought the whole thing was a trap to be avoided. The death toll in the War on Booze was ever mounting, and Black Jack and his gang played the game more viciously than most; a Federal Agent couldn’t afford to be careless in times like these, or he’d soon find himself on the wrong end of a Tommy gun.

I lit another cigarette, foot tapping nervously on the wet pavement. While I normally eschewed smoking, it was a convenient excuse for my presence here, should I be missed. It was also a handy way to mark the passage of time; if he didn’t arrive by the time I finished this one, I would have to go back inside and think up another plan.

But one way or another, I was determined to escape.

My bruises were almost gone now — the last remnants of the black eye covered with an extra thick layer of foundation — and I swore they would be my last at the hands of Jonathan Randall. That monster might own my body, but my soul was still mine; a bit battered perhaps, hidden away deep down where no one could see, but whole for all that. And never accepting of the gilded cage in which I was currently trapped.

---

10 days earlier

“That smart mouth is going to get you killed one of these days, my dear.”

Those words were the last thing I could recall upon waking in the hospital bed, feeling the starched white linen of the sheets, uncomfortable against my skin.

I hadn’t even seen the first blow coming; had been insensible for those which followed.

For every cloud, a silver lining.

Laying there in the quiet, dawn light peeking through the cracks in the blinds, I wondered how I had gotten here. It must have been one of the other girls, I decided upon reflection; Jack would never have sought out medical help, unwanted attention from the establishment being high on his list of things to avoid.

A soft rap on the door snapped me back to the present.

“Come in,” I managed to croak out, my throat raw and painful — the ghost of his hand around my neck lingering still.

I had expected a nurse or a doctor — or even an orderly bringing around some terrible hospital food — but the man who entered was clearly none of those things. He was tall, handsome, clad in a well-tailored suit, and held himself with a confident bearing. His hair was a distinctive shade of auburn and his eyes shockingly blue when they met mine, making me forget to breathe for a moment.

When he spoke, it was yet another surprise; his warm Scottish brogue wrapped around me like a blanket on a cold day.

“Morning, Mrs. Randall,” he greeted me with a slight nod of the head. “My name is James Fraser and I’m an agent with the Prohibition Bureau. Sorry for bothering ye sae early. How are ye feeling this morning, lass?”

His eyes and tone seemed to hold a genuine kindness and concern, but I didn’t trust so easily as I used to. I had learned the importance of caution and compartmentalisation over the last three years — a hard and painful lesson, that — and my slip of the previous evening was obviously still fresh in my mind.

“And what possible interest could the Prohibition Bureau have in me, sir?” I replied, doing my best to compose my face into something resembling a brick wall. “I’m just a woman who slipped and fell down the stairs.”

I had thought that might get a rise out of him, but he maintained his composure. He obviously didn’t think the situation humorous in the slightest.

“Yer name is Randall, ma’am. And ye canna live long with a name like that unless ye’re a canny bird. How might ye be related to Jonathan Randall, may I ask?”

I averted my gaze, trying to keep my voice steady and neutral. “He was my late husband’s cousin. Frank died in a car accident several years ago.”

“Ah. I see. I’m sorry for yer loss, Mrs. Randall.”

A faint “ yes, well, me too” was all I could manage in reply. I turned my head away, pretending to look out the window, though the blinds were still drawn.

Damn you, Frank, I thought, wiping an angry tear from my eye. This is all your bloody fault!

I hadn’t heard him approach the bed, so I was startled when a large hand enveloped mine, offering a quick squeeze of reassurance that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time in a very long time that I had been touched by a man with kindness — not with cruelty or desire — and the realisation shook me to the core.

“Ye dinna have to be scairt of him, Claire. Let me help ye.”

Before I could even contemplate a response, the door suddenly opened and Jamie jerked his hand away as if scalded. A nurse bustled in, clipboard and blood-pressure cuff in her hands.

“Oh, so sorry to interrupt, but I need to do a few checks on Mrs Randall now. If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside for a few minutes, sir.”

“Aye, I’ll be back in a bit,” he said with a nod, quietly closing the door behind him.

My mind was racing. This could be it, my chance to get out from under Black Jack’s control. Had I finally found an ally who would help me? Someone who wasn’t as terrified of the boss and his goons as everyone else in New York seemed to be?

There was only one way to find out. It was risky but, looking down at the bruises that covered my arms, I found I suddenly didn’t care anymore.

I was going to get out or die trying.

But as I still strongly preferred the option of not dying, I needed to be smart about this. Jack would have someone watching the hospital. I had to get the agent out of my room as quickly as possible or they’d suspect I told him something. I needed to arrange a meeting of my own choosing; one when I wouldn’t be watched.

“Do you have anything to write with, by any chance?” I turned to ask the nurse, the outline of a plan quickly forming in my mind.

“Of course, ma’am,” she said, handing me a piece of blank paper off the chart and a yellow pencil with teeth marks on it. As she went about her work, I scrawled a short note.

The alley behind Dragoon’s

10 days from now

1130pm sharp

Come alone

Please

I quickly folded the paper into a tiny square, tucking it under a fold of my hospital gown.

Continue reading...

[prairiefarmgirl]

Mood Board Challenge Till the End of the Line - Chapter 1

A/N:  This is my first time using a mood board.  I hope I don’t screw up posting it!  

Thank you so much to @outlanderlush and @iamnottrisha for organizing this challenge.  And thank you most of all to @kalendraashtar for creating this awesome mood board for me.  Y’all, I tried SO hard to make this a one-shot.  I wrote.  I deleted.  I re-wrote.  I cursed.  I deleted.  It just wasn’t having it.  This is a chapter story.  I don’t know how many chapters.  I just know there is more.  I also made several things fit my story.  The loch in my story does exist.  There is no resort.  Scottish summers are probably not as warm as my summers here in the US, but I am making it warm to fit my story.  

In this modern AU, Jamie and Claire meet at a summer resort job.  They build a friendship before heading off to university.  The kicker?  Claire has a boyfriend.  Frank (insert dramatic sighs here).  Frank is a tool of the highest order.  Jamie sees it.  Claire does not.  Yet….

If you want to follow me to read the rest of the story, that would be great.  My Master List is on my blog.  I’ll try to update once a week.  With the holidays coming, I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to stick to a schedule, but I’ll try!

And here we go!  Enjoy!

**************************************

From the moment I saw her, I knew this one was worth the broken heart.

Jamie’s jaw dropped when he saw her.  Ian reached over and nudged his jaw closed, “Ye’ll catch a mouth full of midges if ye keep that up, mate.”  

Jamie blinked and looked at Ian.  “Do ye suppose she’s the new lifeguard, then?  

“Weel, it would seem that way, ya big  gob.  She’s wearing a swimsuit that says…ye ken…LIFEGUARD.”

“Shut up ya wanker.”

Ian laughed.  “Weel, go say hello to her, then.  Just don’t look like a numpty doing it.  I’m due back to the big house to caddie for Mr. Campbell.”  Ian shoved him in her direction and walked off, smirking back at Jamie.

Jamie and Ian had scored a great summer job after graduation, working at Loch Earn Resort.  They would live on the resort grounds and get paid to do what they loved.  Ian loved golf, so being a caddie was perfect for him.  Jamie was one of two lifeguards at the “beach”, which was really an enclosed portion of the loch.  The current was almost non-existent there and the drop off was very gradual.  They were hoping to earn enough wages to help with some expenses while they were at uni.  Both planned to attend the University of Glasgow.  Jamie, being raised on a farm, planned to be a veterinarian.  Working with animals and being outside made him happy.

Jamie walked up the hill to where the new girl stood.  He held out his hand and said, “Hi.  I’m Jamie Fraser.  I’ll be working with ye, it seems.”

She took his hand and shook it.  “Claire Beauchamp.  It’s nice to meet you.”

“A Sassenach amongst us!”

“What?  Sassenach?  Isn’t that a derogatory term?”

“Nae a derogatory term…or at least I don’t mean it that way.  It means Englishman, or outsider.  Which, ye are…English.”

“I see.  So, I guess we’ll work together everyday, then?  They say that they always have 2 lifeguards on duty together and we are the only two they have.”

“It seems so.  I will take the first duty on the shore line, then if ye want to take the chair.”

“Alright.”

Jamie opened the gate for the first time of the summer season to the swim beach and let the excited swimmers inside, checked to see that Claire was situated in her chair and he turned to walk along the shore and out onto the dock.  He couldn’t help glancing up at her every now and then to look at her.  She had the longest legs he’d ever seen and if he were completely honest, he was more than a little infatuated with her round arse.  

He was trying hard not to watch her slather sunblock on her legs when he was splashed by a kid who did a running cannonball jump into the water.  Glancing back at Claire, he saw the smirk on face, so he knew she saw it.  Feckin’ kids.

Keep reading

[fierceweebadger]

This is such a lovelet (and hot 🥵) take on young J&C. Looking forward to the future chapters. 😁

[smashing-teacups]

Rainbow (Moodboard challenge oneshot)

A/N: I’m so excited to be a part of yet another thrilling writing challenge in this fic community! Naturally, leave it to me to take a perfectly fluffy board, stick a knife in it, and twist! 😂🤷‍♀️

A modern day take on the Faith storyline, and what it would be like for Jamie and Claire to go through that grieving process together, and what a second pregnancy/the ability to parent together after losing their first child would look like. Naturally, therefore, there is a big old TRIGGER WARNING I need to place here for stillbirth/pregnancy loss. But I do promise this oneshot has a happy ending!

Thanks to @outlanderlush​ and @iamnottrisha​ for organizing this challenge, to @fierceweebadger​ for creating this stunning moodboard, and to @desperationandgin​ and @lcbeauchampoftarth​ for betaing! 

I knew before Claire did, the second time around. 

I’d known for four days by the time she came home from Tesco with a pregnancy test wedged surreptitiously between the milk and the K-cups. I busied myself with putting away the produce, feigning oblivion while she ferreted the wee pink box into the folds of her cardigan and escaped to the bathroom on the pretense of putting away the toothpaste and body wash. 

When the door clicked shut behind her, I went very still, bone-white hands clenched on the edge of the countertop.

I already knew what the test would show. There was no doubt in my mind at that point. 

I knew my wife’s body better than I knew my own.

Her breasts were an easy tell; she’d whimpered in protest when I probed them — gently, experimentally — while she slept. They were tender, aye, and the nipples a little more full already. The delicate veins along her areola were swollen with the increased blood supply, and as recently as that morning the color had started to deepen, darken. In a few weeks, I knew they’d be the color of champagne grapes. 

At least they had been. Last time.

She had burst into tears the night before over a dog food commercial. She was short with me, quick to snap blazing whisky eyes up to mine and give me a thorough tongue lashing for whatever my perceived error of the moment was.

And perhaps most telling of all: it was the middle of March, there was still a dusting of snow on the ground, and my normally ice-blooded Sassenach was burning up. She kept kicking off the blankets in the middle of the night, scooting away from my body heat unconsciously when I tried to spoon around her. She’d started cracking the window and turning on the ceiling fan before bed, complaining that the bloody thermostat must be broken, because it was “sweltering in here.” 

Aye, I knew. I knew fine well what the test would say.

Apparently, my wife had been less sure. 

When the door to the bathroom creaked slowly open on its hinge, I stood motionless for a moment, watching. Claire stood on the other side of the threshold, just out of sight. 

She didn’t move.

So I did.

I crossed the kitchen in careful, measured strides, gaze trained on that doorway, waiting for the moment I could find her eyes with mine.

When I did, I froze, every muscle in my body drawn taut, every hair follicle standing on end. 

I didn’t breathe — couldn’t — and neither did she. 

Tears stood like diamonds in her eyes, shimmering in the light. She looked up at me helplessly, her chin dimpled and quivering, and put a hand to her mouth to smother a sob. 

I felt a crack through my chest like a gunshot, and then I was moving again, grabbing for her in the same moment that she reached for me. There was nothing soft or tender about the way we collided — clawing, scrambling to get each closer, tighter — frantic and shaking and terrified. 

Fucking terrified. 

Keep reading…

[desperationandgin]

Mood board One Shot!

Rating: General Audiences

Also Read On: AO3

Summary: Jamie and Claire have a conversation while in the thick of World War 1.

A/N: Thank you so much to @enormouseffort for the mood board and to @iamnottrisha & @outlanderlush for putting this together! And thank you to @filledwithlight​, @smashing-teacups​, @happytoobserve​ and @fierceweebadger​ for looking this over for me! Also, it’s midnight east coast time so surprise!!!

The Uncertainty of War

When she comes to him, it’s with a bloodied apron still tied around her neck and curls askew. Someone’s blood streaks her upper arm, smeared into a dried out whorl thanks to a hasty wipe. A glance at her and Jamie knows tension lies between her shoulder blades like a lead weight and that the balls of her feet are aching.

He’s no better off than she is, exhausted to the very marrow of his bones. He’d been ready to close his eyes and welcome sleep until she crept in, but now his only thought is of following through on the warm bath he’d conjured for her in his mind. It takes time to fill, but the moment he helps her into the tub and she sighs, he knows he would do it again, even so late at night. Reaching behind her head, his fingers find the material holding her curls at bay and lets it go, sending them chaotically floating free.

“Close yer eyes, a nighean.”

She does as she’s told and becomes malleable under his hands as they meticulously work to rub her feet under the hot water.

“I haven’t sat since five-thirty this morning.” Her words leave her on a weary sigh; the moon and stars have been out for hours now.

“Ye push yourself too hard, Sassenach. If ye dinna do more to take care of yourself, yer body will decide to slow down for ye,” Jamie chides gently, hands working a calf, delighting in her soft groan.

“Who’s the medical professional, here, Captain?” She cracks one eye open to look at him. “I know you only arrived here a few moments before me, and you were gone when I woke.”

He’s quiet as his hands move back to a foot, pressing his thumbs into the arch gently and rubbing outward. When he replies, his eyes flicker toward her face. “Cannae do reconnaissance in the bright, open daylight, Nurse Beauchamp,” he retorts with her own title. “And the day cannae be done only because I was workin’ early.”

“So, you’re saying that telling me how much sleep to get isn’t hypocritical?”

She’s won when he can’t think of a good retort, and she smiles smugly, proud of herself for outsmarting him there.

“It’s no’ a bad thing to take a break when ye can get it, was my point.” He switches feet, focused on his task.

“Hello, pot. I’m kettle,” she teases, though it’s really quite sweet, his worry for her. It endears him even more to her heart, though he’d done well enough the day they’d met two years ago, buying flowers from her at the park for his young niece.

“We both do too much and we ken it, but—”

“—but we have one another to lean on,” she finishes, smiling as he moves to the head of the tub in order to capture her lips in a kiss. One of his large hands cradles her face and she reciprocates, enjoying the feel of his stubble against her fingertips.

“I missed ye today, mo nighean donn,” he murmurs huskily, ducking his head a little further to press his lips to her neck.

“I thought about you earlier while I was debriding a wound,” Claire informs him, even as her head tilts this way and that to grant better access to skin begging to feel the imprint of his lips.

Keep reading

[fierceweebadger]

Nobody writes soft Jamie & Claire moments like Britt.

N O B O D Y

My poor heart. This is too beautiful. 😭