Archives for the Date March 18th, 2019

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vausemania:(x)

vausemania:(x)

Escape Master List

notevenjokingfic:

12 Days of Christmas:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12 (Epilogue)

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The Wedding Plans:

The Ring, Travel Plans, Meddling (Part I), Meddling (Part II), Meddling (Part III), The Bachelor Party, The Wedding, Whisky Tasting

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The Medical School Years:

A Sad Valentine’s Day, Horrocks (Part I), Horrocks (Part II), Horrocks (Part III), Horrocks (Part IV), Horrocks (Part V), Anatomy Exam

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The Residency Years

Faith (Part I), Faith (Part II), Faith (Part III), Faith (Part IV), Faith (Part V)

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The Bree Years

Birth, Father’s Day, Early Days, Claire’s Walks, Lunch with Jenny, Gratitude Journal, Hospital Meeting, The Nanny, Discipline (Part I), Discipline (Part II), Discipline (Part III), Discipline (Part IV)

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The Henry Years

Waiting, Jealousy, Edinburgh Zoo, Perfect Family, Bree’s Origami

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The Reconnecting Years

Edinburgh Airport, John Grey and All That Jazz, A New Leaf

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Escape: Merry Christmas, Escape: Valentine’s Day

All mood boards credited to the incredibly talented @balfeheughlywed 

Loss Ficlet: Alexa

missclairebelle:

Happy unbirthday to @holdhertightandsayhername. I’m guessing this is not even adjacent to what she wished for when she sent me the following prompt:

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And yet, here we are. 

This ficlet lives in time between Jamie and Claire moving in together and their first Christmas.  

NSFW below the cut.


Loss Ficlet
Alexa
December 2016

“A smart home,” Jamie repeated, as though the phrase would somehow garner a meaning (any meaning whatsoever) if repeated in a slower, profoundly condescending tone.  

From my vantage point on the couch, I drew my blanket closer to my chest and rolled to my side.  He had walked in the door ten minutes earlier, woken me from my late afternoon nap, and announced, with no small amount of male chest-puffing pride, that “Alexa’s joinin’ our family, Sassenach.”  Now, he was threading the power cord to his new device through the back of our entertainment system and warring with a tangle of other cords.

Recalling the high level of interest he had feigned quite convincingly just a week earlier at one of my work dinners (a function attended by lots of doctors “droning on uselessly” and offering only “small food and snooty wine”), I decided to return the favor of manufacturing interest.  

“Is it a speaker?”

“Aye, but it’s no’ just a speaker. It can automate things.”

The word ‘skeptical’ did not even begin to cover my reaction, so I attempted to tamp down the tartness in my tone as I echoed, “Things.”

C’mon, Claire.”

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