#briste

[aoife700]

This is honestly my fav thing ever❤️😂

From @gailgewhore ar an Twitter!

[writtenthroughtime]

Will you be continuing with Briste? I love that one!!

Hi @ciaramum98 ,

I’m so glad you loved Briste, that one has been a very popular and well-loved story. However, at this time I am not writing more for it. There’s one major reason, the headspace I have to go into to write it. When I started Briste I was very depressed and had a lot going on in my life where I just didn’t feel very happy, loved, etc. 

I’ve had a few ideas for it to branch on out with the story to take it away from the original start and depression, but I haven’t wanted to go there. I hope you can understand why, for now, this story is not being continued. One day, I hope to be able to go back to Briste without depressing thoughts and continue it. I do want to show Jamie and Claire’s love story continue. 

So I apologize to all of you who do love this story, but for now, it’s going to remain unfinished. 

Love, WTT

[writtenthroughtime]

28 (teaching the other something new) for Briste, please!

#28 teaching the other something new

I stood, rooted to the spot in horror. When my angel said she’d teach me how to ride a bike I didn’t think she meant motorbike.

“No, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need to learn how to ‘properly’ ride a bike.” I shook my head just as her arms wrapped around my waist and her chin rested on my back.

“My big, strong, army survivor, highlander isn’t scared of a tiny motorcycle is he?” She taunted, I could feel her silent laughter vibrate through me.

“I’m no scared, I’m horrified! Ye mean to tell me ye ride this? That ye ken how to operate such a thing!”

She full out belly laughed this time.

“Yes, I do and this happens to be only one of a few that I own.”

I spun her around to face me. “Claire! This is your bike, and you own more than one?Jesus God, M'aingeal! How are ye still in one piece?”

She crossed her arms and glared at me.

“You mean to say you don’t think I can ride a motorcycle because of how clumsy I am?”

I nodded vehemently.

She leaned back and was, somehow, now gracefully perched on the deep blue motorcycle.

“That’s a shame you don’t believe me, and to think you were getting off easy with this cruiser. The street bike is much more difficult to control, then there’s the trails bike where there isn’t a seat at all, and the–”

“Ye own all these things and know what to do?” I interrupted her, and she only smiled wide. “Christ! I don’t know if I’d rather lock you in a room or roll you in bubble wrap then lock you in a room so you don’t hurt yourself!”

“I’m quite good. I’ve been riding since I was a child.”

My face must have portrayed my disbelief.

“You still don’t believe me? You? The one who damn well knows how I am when straddling something.”

“Claire!”

She laughed and threw her leg around so she was straddling the motorcycle beneath her.

“Come on you big wuss, I’ll show you controls while we go for a wee ride.” She said tossing me a helmet before fastening her own.

At least that was one less worry I had about this thing.

“Are ye sure this is proper?” I hesitated, not sure how we were to fit.

“Just get on! This isn’t 1920!”

I did as she asked and climbed on, noticing the foot pegs she had extended and out for me.

“Put your feet up on the pegs, I can handle the weight. Now the first thing you need to know is that with this particular bike you don’t have to kickstart. This is a simple push start. Can you see?”

I looked over her shoulder to where she pointed at a button just below her thumb.

“Clutch,” she squeezed her left hand, “handbreak,” she squeezed the right, “foot break,” her right foot wiggled on top of the break, “and gears are on the left hand side. Good?”

“Aye, what are those other toggles? Where’s the gas?”

Claire laughed and I think smiled and went back to showing me the controls.

[writtenthroughtime]

Briste | Chapter 13

Briste | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

He was going to kiss me.

I could see it in his eyes, lust, passion, desire… it was all there everything I had been aching for, been yearning for was right there.

“Stop.” I whispered gently laying my hand on his chest. I could feel his rapid breathing and thundering heartbeat under my palm. My eyes transfixed on my hand, refusing to see the hurt that was sure to be in his eyes.

“Alright. I’ll wait.” Came his breathy, hoarse whisper. His voice so deep it sent chills down my spine.

I chanced a glance at this face, surely he was joking. He had to be angry, I just denied him… they always get angry when denied.

“Really?” I asked in amazement, not seeing any anger but still the same passion and desire. He intertwined my hand with his, laying it back against his chest while pulling me forward. The backs of our hands touching the other’s heart.

A quirk of his lips pulled them into a side smile. “Aye, I’ll wait for ye Claire. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Ye ken I’ll no be your patient forever, and when that day comes,” he bent down kissing my hand. “I’ll be here a dozen flowers in my hand, and walking on my own two feet asking ye to be mine.”

My cheeks filled with color as his statement sunk in.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be out of your bed for too long. You’re going to drive the nurses into a tizzy.” I tried to diffuse the current mood, the sexual tension was thick in the air, my own mind questioning why I wasn’t following my gut and letting him kiss me.

“Aye, suppose ye are right.” Jamie nodded, then began to hobble back out the door.

I let out a breathing looking at the ceiling. “You’re a bloody fool Beauchamp.”

We were silent on the walk back to his room. What should have been a short walk, turned into a laborious adventure for both of us. Neither fully healed, hobbling and shaking down the hall, unable to move quick enough out of the random running personnel.

“M'aingeal, bidh thu leig dhomh gaol agam ort?” Jamie whispered pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear as we stood outside his door.

I started to shake my head, words fumbling. “I-I don’t know what you said!”

Jamie only smiled and kept his hand on the side of my face. “Dinna fash yerself over it. Good night, Doctor Beauchamp.”

Gone was his playful and desire-filled tone, in it’s place was the quiet reluctance of professionalism.

“Good night, Jamie.” I managed to say just as the door clicked shut.

The hall felt too large, yet too small simultaneously. I couldn’t breathe.

My heart ached and my head warred with my thoughts.

He was perfect. He was a patient. He wanted me. No one ever wants me. He makes me feel different, worthy. No one will ever accept me.

Over and over, the cycle of confidence and doubt turned over until I couldn’t take it any longer. Still in scrubs I ran from the hospital. My bag, keys, phone, everything still locked safely away in my locker. Legs burning, hip screaming in pain, I pushed on. I felt the bandages Mrs. Fitz so carefully attached begin to slip from my legs. The scabs on my knees begin to crack and bleed once again, but it didn’t matter. I needed air. I needed to be able to breathe.

Tears blurring my vision, I stumbled and caught myself before falling onto the pavement making my way to a bench at the edge of the block.

All the emotions I had been fighting for weeks came to the surface, no longer were tears only clouding my vision, now they ran freely in unending streams down my face. Why was he so nice to me? How could he want to kiss me and why did I want to kiss him back?

I don’t know how long I sat on that bench two blocks from the hospital. My body chilled as rain drizzled down.

“Claire?” A voice called, I didn’t look in it’s direction.

“Claire!” Warm hands gripped my shoulders, slightly shaking me. “What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat? Jesus! You’re freezing!”

Joe Abernathy pulled me from my spot on the bench, my mind and body still numb. Speech not coming easily.

“You need to get back inside, when Marcus told me he saw you running out of the building like a bat outta hell I had to come look for you! What has gotten into you?”

I shook my head, a frown pulling deeper on my face. “I can’t go back. I’ve broken the rules. He can’t.. I can’t… please don’t make me. I don’t have the will to stay away. I can’t lose this job. I can’t lose him. Please Joe… I…”

I rambled and sobbed as Joe pulled his coat tighter around me, throwing his arm around my shoulders then guided me back to the hospital.

“Who are you trying to run away from? Is it the man that hurt you? I’m still not convinced it was as you said, and just a running accident.”

I shook my head at his words. “No one hurt me! I did this to myself, granted not intentionally, but I did not get beat! I wish people would stop assuming that!”

“That was the most coherent sentence I’ve gotten from you all day.” He laughed jovially, squeezing my shoulder. I snorted.

“I can’t lose my job Joe, but I can’t be around Ja--Mr. Fraser.” I stopped walking and turned to look at Joe’s face. “I’ll break every vow I’ve ever made as a physician if I continue to be one of his primary care doctors. I can’t do it. It’s become...personal. He means too much to me and I can’t lose him, but I can’t lose this job either.”

Joe smiled and nodded with a sigh, “I figured this would happen. You’re all the man talks about when I go to see him. Keeps calling you m'aingeal, and I can’t get anyone in this damned place to tell me what it means. They simply smile and have a lovesick look on their faces so I’m going to guess it’s an endearment.”

I felt my chin wobble with the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes.

“He—” I cleared my throat, “he’s called me that before. Right before I ran out of the hospital actually.”

Joe smiled jovially. “Ha! See! You won’t be losing that boy, I can guarantee that! Now, come on. You need to get dry and warm. I’ll make sure, if it’s the last thing I do that you will not only keep your job, but you will get to keep your...unprofessional relationship with the young Mr. Fraser.” He winked and pulled me back inside. Back to the warmth, pain, brutal politics, sadness, and overwhelming joy that will hopefully shape my future for the better.

[writtenthroughtime]

Briste Update

Anonymous Submitted: Please update Briste! I’m dying to know more! 

Anonymous said: Good day!! I love your story Briste…will there be more chapters soon??

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: Who writes Briste? I haven’t seen it post in a while. Can you post a new chapter?

Anonymous said:Will you continue Briste? I am in love with the storyline. Thanks!

Hello to everyone who as asked about Briste in the last two days (including an anon over on Imagine hello and welcome to my blog)!

I made a post last week about the return of Briste and today is the promised day for a new chapter (yay!!) I have not had a chance to send the latest off to my beta reader, who is also currently swamped with school and real life so I’m giving her a much needed break from my neediness. So if there are any mistakes in the post that will go out later today I’m to blame. 

With that said… did you catch it? You will have a post later today! I am on Eastern Standard Time in the US so expect something before 9pm my time tonight. 

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I don't mean to bother at all but when could we expect an update to Briste?? It's one of my favorites and I so want to know what happens next! Thanks! 😉

Hi @rxqueenruby​!

Thanks for dropping in and thankyou for reading my stories! Briste is definitely one of my favorites and with it comes my own personal pressure to write this story just right. As of right now I’m aiming for next Wednesday (February 15th) to be back on track. I haven’t written the next chapter(s) yet, mostly due to lack of time to find to write and slightly on inspiration. 

I hope you don’t mind the wait even if I don’t get to have a chapter sent out next week. For now I’ll try to ease the wait with this little (unedited) teaser:

“Really?” I asked in amazement, not seeing any anger but still the same passion and desire. He intertwined my hand with his, laying it back against his chest while pulling me forward. The backs of our hands touching the other’s heart.

A quirk of his lips pulled them into a side smile. “Aye, I’ll wait for ye Claire. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Ye ken I’ll no be your patient forever, and when that day comes,” he bent down kissing my hand. “I’ll be here a dozen flowers in my hand, and walking on my own two feet asking ye to be mine.”

My cheeks filled with color as his statement sunk in.

[writtenthroughtime]

Briste | Chapter 12

Briste | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11

My father once said that the moment I met the person I was meant to be with, I’d ken it in a heartbeat.

He was right.

My heart and mind recognized her before I was even fully aware of it myself. The first month after the explosion I had dreams of an angel. She had the sweet voice of a Sassenach and the kindest touch. Whenever the pain began to overwhelm me, her voice and touch cut through the agony, replacing it with it peace.

She had spoken to me for countless hours, it seemed, in my haze. She read stories, the news, or just spoke her mind and the wish for me to open my eyes.

“Findings! You make him sounds like some sort of experiment!” A shrill voice had filtered in. That hadn’t been my angel, but I recognized it. Jenny. I furrowed my brow, light and pain began to seep into my consciousness and the dreams became more fuzzy by the second as the beeping of machines and the voice of my angel spoke.

“Can you tell me his name?”

I was even more confused by her statement. She knew my name, didn’t she? My angel had to know. I wanted to scream out to her, but nothing came. I needed to see; I needed to get my angel’s attention and let her know. She needed to know me.

I had opened my eyes and seen the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. The hazy vision of my angel solidified and I finally had features clearly drawn: riotous curly hair, milky skin, and eyes the color of the finest Scotch.

“Mo chridhe,” I had whispered, my voice scratchy and hoarse. Neither my sister or my angel had heard me.

When they did notice me, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. My angel— Jenny had called her Dr. Beauchamp—gently touched my arm and my skin burned from her touch.

And just as soon as I had a chance to drink her in, she was gone, leaving me alone with my sister. She sobbed and hugged me. Between her sobs, Jenny fretted over me, not leaving me for a moment. It was smothering. I had never seen her this way before. Maybe it was the thought of losing me so shortly after Da and Willie or her ever growing pregnancy messing with her mind, but I didn’t care. It was nice to be surrounded by love and warmth instead of the cold hard fear that had been my constant state for the last four years.

“Who was she?” I croaked when Jenny had finally calmed down.

“Who was who, mo brathair?” She gave me a quizzical look, and rubbed her belly. “Surely ye’ve not already forgotten Doctor Beauchamp, who has been verra dedicated and skilled despite her age?”

I shook my head, feeling myself go dizzy with the movement. “No, not her. I ken fine who the angel is, but the demon. I dinna ken who she is. Can ye tell me, sister? Who was the demon who tortured me when the angel wasna near?”

My voice verged on hysterical, if it wasn’t already there. From the alarmed look on Jenny’s face, I had scared her. She opened her mouth to speak before we heard a loud slam of a door and screaming. I felt what little color was sure to be in my face, drain instantly. The demon was screeching, and at my angel.

“I’ve known James Fraser my whole life and I’d know the look of him anywhere.” The words from the demon floated through the sturdy wood of the door and down my spine like ice. How could she have known me her whole life?

“Jenny?” I began to shake with some foreign emotion that I couldn’t put a name to. We then heard a loud *crack* and the stomping of feet. Five minutes later, my angel and another doctor walked into the room, a smile on his face.

“Welcome back Mr. Fraser! Doctor Beauchamp has told me we finally have an identity for you, and perfect timing with your sudden consciousness. So can you tell me how you’re feeling? Please do not leave anything out. We want to get you back to your best state of being as quickly as we can.”

The conversation flowed and I can’t recall a moment of it. I was too busy stealing glances at the red flushed face of my angel who kept quiet in the corner of my room, and never once approached my bed.

That behavior became her normal towards me unless she had to inspect something under a bandage. The same, kind doctor accompanied her--I really need to remember his name--each round, but she never spoke to me. Her smile did not reach the corner of her lips let alone her eyes, and gradually she began walking with a limp.

My angel avoided my room now. I could feel the depression setting in; I was being abandoned by the angel. The angel whose voice still called to me at night and in my daydreaming states. The voice that gave me hope, now gone.

I grabbed my cane and shoved the IV contraption out the door, then hobbled my way down the corridor in an aimless fashion. My mind so preoccupied by what I might have done to keep her away, and what I could do to get her back, that I nearly missed an argument and a plea. The kind doctor and one I’d never met before strode from a room, the door bouncing off the hinge and slowly swung back open.

“I still say you should tell us who the bastard is that did this to you. I’m not fully convinced this was all done from being clumsy!” the nurse who reminded me of an aunt said exasperatedly, while wrapping a patient's knee. I saw the healed scrapes and gouges, the purple, blue and green mottled bruising that went from shin and above.

My mouth fell open as I took in all of the injuries this woman had endured. My blood pressure rose as I saw more bruising up her arms and shoulders. What kind of person would harm another like this? Was it her boyfriend? Husband? Girlfriend? Or someone she had an unfortunate encounter with? Situation after situation crossed my mind, and then my blood simultaneously boiled and drained from my body. Sitting on the bench was not just a patient, but my angel. My angel bruised and hurt. Is this why she started avoiding me? Did someone tell her to stop?

I took a step towards her room and she averted her eyes, a blush creeping up her neck.

“All done Claire.” The nurse patted Claire’s leg and handed her her clothes. “Now I don’t want to see you—oh! Hello my dear, have you gotten lost? Do you need assistance getting back to your room?” She addressed me. I shook my head, my eyes not leaving Claire.

“Claire, my angel, who hurt you? What has happened? Please tell me.” I hobbled my way close enough to her to hold my hand out to hover over hers. I saw a tear slide down her cheek and my composure was lost.

“Angel! A Dhia! Please mo nighean donn, tell me who did this. I’ll protect you. I swear it. I’ll protect you.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry Mr. Fraser, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Shock flooded through me. Couldn’t understand me? Had I lost the ability to speak?

“Could you try English? I caught a little of what you said. I believe that was Gaelic? You said ‘Oh God!’ why? What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Is it your hand?”

She jumped off the table, still in naught but her undergarments, and pulled my lightly bandaged hand to her, inspecting it thoroughly. I looked to the nurse who gave me a knowing smile and a wink.

“Claire, the lad is fine. He asked who hurt you.”

My angel shook her head harder. “I told you before Glenna, no one hurt me! I did this to myself running. It wasn’t intentional I swear.” She looked to me then back to Nurse Glenna. “I’m just, clumsy when running these hills and trails. I’ll be fine. Thank you for patching me up.”

“Weel I’d feel better if you took the chief up on his offer to see a psychologist and work through why you feel the need to injure yourself if no one did it to ye.” She headed to the door and before pulling it shut, said to me, “Ye’ll need leave now, Mr. Fraser. Doctor Beauchamp can walk ye back to your room and ye can interrogate her then. Maybe she’ll be more keen to talk to you.”

With a wink she was gone.

Claire had already pulled her scrubs back on and was reaching for her coat when I grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked me in the eye, and I brushed a curl away from her face. The tension was palpable. And my only thought was, ‘Would she let me?’

[alaluxluz]

Briste

Briste une elegância e funcionalidade, sendo confeccionada em madeira maciça e finalizada com um aspecto natural. Seu design contemporâneo harmoniza com vários estilos de decoração. Seu foco único de luz proporciona uma iluminação suave e agradável, tornando-se ideal para ambientes voltados ao descanso e relaxamento. Compre a sua aqui: https://www.alaluxvirtual.com/colunacontemporaneamadeiraecologicaparaumalampadae27