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magnoliasinbloom · 4 years

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Crash Course Love

Infinite thanks to @anna-swims and @elizabeth-beauchamp for being awesome betas.

AO3 :: Previously

16: Roses [Claire]

Tears spilled over, and I wiped them away angrily. Not again—not ever again.

I’d instinctively grabbed my mobile to get an Uber before I remembered there was no signal. Bloody fuck. I thought to my original plan to get a castle employee to call me a cab, and was just about to search for one when Jamie burst through the ballroom doors, frantically pulling his hands through the beautiful red mop of hair.

No, it’s not beautiful, you can’t think like that anymore, Beauchamp.

He spotted me immediately and I ran again, clumsily pulling up the hem of my dress.

“Sassenach—would you listen to me, please, it’s no’ what ye think—”

So he knew I’d seen them kiss. Why he felt the need to explain was beyond me. We were only each other’s alternative to loneliness, fake dates, no more than a convenient placeholder.

Why are you running then?

This small bit of logic caught up with me; I stopped abruptly in my race to the car park and Jamie ran into me, almost knocking me down. He grabbed me by the arms to keep me upright and turned me to face him. I hoped to hell I was not crying anymore, but my makeup had to be smeared across my face. I pasted what felt like a horribly false smile and slowly pulled my arms out of his grasp.

“Mr. Fraser! Thank you for accompanying me to this… event. It is almost over, though, so I think it’s alright if you leave now.” My voice shook, but I couldn’t help it.

“Sassenach, I just—”

“Don’t call me that!” I burst out, my hands cupping my elbows across my stomach. I was shivering and couldn’t seem to stop. I’d forgotten my coat inside. Jamie noticed and pulled off his fancy jacket, throwing it like a cape over my shoulders. I tried to shrug it off, but he held it firmly.

“Ye might no’ want to listen to me, but I willna have ye suffer cold or sick, Claire. Annalise and I—”

“Are none of my business. I know I’ve no right to complain; I was with you for selfish reasons too, but I have a small bit of pride left, you know.” I looked down at my fancy heels, mumbling that last bit.

When Jamie didn’t say anything, I stole a glance; I saw his expression—completely dumbfounded, mouth working open and closed but no words coming out. I huddled inside the jacket, much too big for me and inhaled the wonderful scent that permeated it.

No, stop it, Beauchamp, you can’t do that anymore.

Finally, Jamie sighed, shaking his head. “Sass—Claire, first of all, I didna ken she would be here. It turns out she’s an old family friend of the bride. Bein’ French and all, I suppose, ‘twas a great coincidence. Secondly, she kissed me. She was spoutin’ off some nonsense about makin’ a mistake, and that she wanted us to try again. I was workin’ out a way to put her off and go find you, when she was kissin’ me. I want ye to ken that I did not encourage her, or want it at all.” He shook his head again; crimson waves fell over his forehead but he made no move to push them away. I resisted the urge myself.

“What I realized then, Claire, is that the one person I did want—was you. At some point in this pretend relationship, ye became the person I wanted to see all the time, to talk to, to laugh with, to touch.” Jamie stood motionless, holding a hand over his heart. I trembled, but with something more than mere cold. “Do ye feel somethin’ like it, as weel?”

Forced on me by circumstance, he would force himself on me no longer, if I chose to reject him. We probably could not remain friends after this, however; we knew too much about each other and had endured things that took friendship off the table for good. But here was my chance to let him know, that he too had become my refuge, a best friend of sorts, in a short time—that little by little, he had provided the mortar with which I had filled the gaps left in me. I took a deep breath, my eyes drowning in the blue sea of his gaze.

“I do. Feel something like it, I mean. But Jamie… you know as well as I do what would happen if we didn’t work out. I survived it once, but I don’t think my heart could take it again.”

James Fraser, damn him, smiled widely and reached into his sporran. “Aye, Claire. Maybe this will convince ye.” He pulled out a sheaf of thick papers, and held them out to me. “Jenny made it—I just told her what I wanted to say.”

I reached out slowly, perplexed. Once in hand, it seemed like a small picture book, sewn together with twine. The cover read simply Sassenach in beautiful modern calligraphy. Scrollwork decorated the space around my name. It took me a minute to recognize the small flowers embedded in the loops—gladioli. I opened it gingerly, and my breath caught at the first image.

Bright purple heather leaped off the page. I rifled through some of the pages quickly, and realized they were all flowers. Heather meant admiration and beauty, as well as being singularly Scottish. Page two – daffodils, meaning new beginnings. Page three – violets. Loyalty and devotion. Page four – red asters for patience. Then, chrysanthemums for honesty, white camellias for destiny, morning glory for affection.

I traced the outline of a gardenia next, as tears began to pool in my eyes; like the flower, my tears symbolized joy, and I began to understand the depth of his message. A blue iris for faith and hope. I dared glance up at Jamie, who stood before me with a slight smile touching the corner of his lips, and the fingers on his left hand tapped nervously on his kilt-covered thigh. I gave him a watery smile, and tried to speak.

“Jamie, this… you—”

“Roses, Claire.” He reached over with a sure hand and turned to the last page. “Red roses.”

I heard myself gasp quietly as I took in the deep red of unfurling roses, my own name cleverly spelled out in the petals. Red roses meant longing, desire, and love.

Jamie loved me.

I felt as fragile and as brilliant as glass, as though I would shatter with a touch, and fall in glittering fragments on the floor. If I had meant to spare either Jamie’s emotions or my own, it seemed I was very much too late—I loved him too. I couldn’t speak, but I held out my hand to him, fingers trembling. I was glad of my glass face for once, and while I worked past the knot in my throat, I hoped my expression conveyed my own feelings.

He pulled me close against him, and I felt the heat of him radiating through the layers we wore. Cradling my face in his hands, he wiped away the tears with his thumbs and his mouth inched closer to mine.

“Tell me,” he whispered. “Tell me what ye want, Claire.” His lips touched mine fleetingly, the barest brush. The words slipped out before I could think.

“You. I want you.”

- - -

“Will it ever stop?” Jamie half-whispered, half-groaned in my ear. “The wanting you.”

“God, I hope not,” I said fervently, gasping at the sensation of his mouth on my neck. Frantic fingers made short work of my dress, his shirt and waistcoat, my undergarments, and his kilt. Jamie was indeed a true Scot.

As he lay me down on the plush duvet, I thanked God over and over in my mind that Crossbasket Castle was a hotel of sorts. After our car park declaration, we’d been too eager for a temporary refuge. Jamie then proceeded to explain the absence of his Jeep and his phone while I cackled with insane relief about the absurdity of our situation. We loved each other, we desperately wanted each other, and had no way of getting home.

“Well, I suppose I could ring Mary from the castle landline and have her drive us back after the party, but that would mean—”

“Sassenach, we need not go anywhere,” Jamie interrupted after rummaging in his sporran. Producing a credit card, he took my hand firmly in his and took me to the front desk. Right—Crossbasket had rooms as well. I stood breathlessly at his side while he booked us a room and tried not to blush as we received our key, waved the concierge away when he inquired about our luggage, and practically ran for the staircase that led to our room.

Now, in the room, I stifled a cry as Jamie’s tongue met the sensitive flesh between my legs. Arms encircling my thighs, his hands held my hips as I bucked and tried to both pull away and get closer.

“The walls are thick enough, mo nighean donn,” Jamie grinned, stopping in his task for a moment. “I want to hear ye.”

I obliged until release flooded through me, my back arching so I thought my spine would break in half. Jamie climbed his way back up my body, kissing and nipping and licking as he went. I took hold of his anatomy briefly and captured his mouth. Jamie gasped, shying away and I stared at him in confusion, my own body still tingling with aftershocks.

I half rose on my elbows. “Don’t you want me to—”

“Sassenach—Claire—I want to be inside you. Please.” His expression was that of pure lust mixed with wonder and adoration. All I could do was nod, but it was not enough for him. Jamie now came closer, his hands delicately framing my face. “I want to hear ye, lass,” he reminded me, his nose butting mine. “Will ye have me?”

“Yes, Jamie,” I breathed, tugging at his waist until he was positioned right above me, the length of him pressed against me. “Yes, I’ll have you. With all of my heart.”

That was the consent and encouragement he needed. Jamie entered me with exquisite slowness; I could feel every inch of him until he was seated to the hilt. There he paused, savoring the moment with a soft kiss. My roaming hands mapped the firm grace of the muscles and bones of his back as he began to move, sliding in and out creating a delicious friction.

“I mean to make ye mine, Sassenach,” he whispered, his forehead touching mine as our hips met again and again, my nails raking his sides, legs around him, trying to push him deeper and deeper. “Mine, and mine alone.”

Jamie paid me court with a humble patience I recognized as reparation—reparation for the previous year of pain, loneliness, and insecurity. While none of that had been of his own making, he understood my need, which I recognized was his own as well.

Together, we sought pleasure for each other; I pushed against his shoulder, and he took my meaning, flipping onto his back. I rode him for all I was worth, his hands on my breasts, on my neck, between my legs again. My vision finally fractured, lights bursting, spiraling sweetness coursing through my body. Jamie was not far behind; he shook in my arms at his own finish, shuddering with the effort not to move, not to hurt me by thrusting, letting the moment shatter him as it would.

I lay against Jamie’s chest, trying to catch my breath and he did the same. I was reluctant to sever our connection, and so it seemed was he. Jamie shifted my body, and we lay facing each other, his hand on my face and mine on his. I memorized the tilt of his eyebrows, the slant of his cheekbones, the slight dent in his chin. He traced the edge of my nose, the bow of my lips, and my tongue darted out to nip his finger. We laughed together, which did interesting things to the way we were joined. With a soft sight, Jamie rolled on top of me once more, the weight of him heavy and perfect in the hollow of my thighs.

“Ye were no’ the first lass I kissed, but I swear ye’ll be the last.” As I felt him move inside me, Jamie’s words crept into my ears, persistent enough to almost drown out my cries for him. They finally found their way to my heart, where they settled for good.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #CCL16 #one more to go #thank you for reading #stay safe and healthy

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m-oana-archive · 4 years

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A Love Too Heavy (For Just One To Hold) pt. 1

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader x Remus Lupin

Words: 2,461

Summary: After pining after Y/N for years, Sirius finally gets the girl: the happy ending the story is supposed to end with. The only problem is the fact Sirius' feelings for Remus still haven't seemed to go away. But he isn't the only one starting to question their ability to love two people at the same time.

requested by @shinysilverunicorn-blog | read on AO3 | Masterlist

Sirius’ POV

Spring was full and bright all around Hogwarts. The chirp of birds rhythmically punctuated the soft breezes that tossed up ponytails and rustled seeds off of daffodils. While most of the students in the courtyard were staring at all of these beauties of early April, Sirius was busy studying the light breathing of his girlfriend’s breathing while she slept, head resting on his leg.

Y/N was undeniably beautiful, even without the fascinating contrast of light and shadow passing over her face from the evermoving clouds in the sky. Sirius noticed it the first moment he saw her. Despite the crowd of students at the Sorting Ceremony and the grandeur of the Great Hall, the thing Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off of was a girl who was sorted into Slytherin. It was enough to make him upset to have been sorted into Gryffindor; luckily, his new friends were rewarded enough for being covered in gold and red.

Hogwarts was just large enough that Sirius’ path never truly crossed with Y/N’s during first year, but just small enough that he’d see her across courtyards or libraries: a rude reawakening of his crush. He pushed it off, learning about his roommates instead; Peter had never been out of the country, Remus had a big appetite for chocolate, James really did need his glasses, Remus always put his right shoe on before his left, Peter talked in his sleep and James tossed and turned in his, Remus had read every book known to man, James loved puns, Remus liked sly remarks (and was good at making them), Peter preferred biking places, and Remus drank most everything out of his assortment of mugs.

It wasn’t until second year that Remus had class with Y/N: herbology. Never did he think he’d enjoy plants so much, but he entered the greenhouse skipping. While he was slow to break the house pride divide, when it was first demanded that the students find partners from another house “to learn how to cooperate with people that have different strengths,” Sirius was quick to find an open spot by Y/N’s side.

“Finally,” she said. “I’ve caught you staring at me before. I’ve been wondering if I resemble some second cousin of yours that got kicked out of the family for something.”

“No. You’re far too pretty to be mistaken for poor old Wilbur.”

She brushed off the compliment: “That sounds like a pig’s name.” But she was blushing.

“Why do you think he got kicked out? He was a pig!”

The grin that formed during the exchange lasted for the rest of the day.

“Mate, you better be careful,” James warned at dinner, the chicken dangling out of his mouth wildly contradicting his tone. “You don’t want to seem too eager.”

Sirius’ eyes darted from Y/N to James. “Me? Too eager? What, have I turned into a mirror?”

Peter sniggered; Remus shot a secret smile Sirius’ way, the one that meant good job, you amused me. “What’s that supposed to mean,” James whined.

“Have you seen yourself around you-know-who?”

“I thought we agreed to call her she-who-must-not-be-named. It’s much more mysterious.”

“We could call her by her name if you had the guts to go after her,” Remus added nonchalantly. Sirius looked at him to give him the same smile of appreciation Sirius had gotten but moments earlier.

“It’s my safety feature,” James said. “If I had balls, I’d be irresistible.”

Peter almost choked on his potatoes. Which were mashed.

“Well I do have balls,” Sirius argued. “So I am irresistible.”

And irresistible he was. Sirius wasn’t sure what exactly it was: the “don’t give two fucks” demeanor, the fact he was an extremely amateur electric guitarist, his perpetually unlaced combat boots, or the fact he had a naturally flirtatious personality (he even flirted with James and Peter for fun), but people batted eyelashes and bit lips and blushed up their necks. By year four, Sirius realized he could almost get anything by calling someone “love” or “darling” in the right way. Essays were written and proofread, reading was skimmed then recapped, Butterbeer was sent to tables free of charge. By year five, Sirius found that some first-years were betting on which of them could get Sirius to ask them out. By year six, it seemed as though Sirius had all of Hogwarts under his finger.

Except, of course, Y/N. When Sirius would widen his eyes and part his lips in pleading, Y/N would just shove the parchment, quills, and ink back into his lap.

“I have my own work to do, Sirius,” Y/N scolded, burying her head back into her textbook. “If you do it with me, like Rem, I’ll help and discuss. But I’m not going to risk my grade for you.”

Sirius grinned, hiding the fact his stomach turned at Remus’ name. At Remus’ lack of acknowledgment of the compliment; he was sitting next to Y/N, also engrossed in reading, not nearly happy enough to be wanted by someone as amazing as her. He had to clear his throat to ask, “Am I really not worth the risk?”

Without taking a beat to pause, she responded, “Not really, considering I already have all of your attention, anyways.” Remus looked up at that comment, staring at Sirius with a smirk. Sirius gave him an obviously fake smile, teeth gritted and eyes dark, which automatically disintegrated when Remus threw a spare quill at him.

Sirius’ frustration wasn’t momentary; Y/N’s words were like a spell stuck in his head, floating around, never settling. It was true: although she was a constant presence in his daily life, Y/N quipped and quarreled with him like she was James or Peter. Was it because he would give her more of his hours than a day could provide? Because he’d so obviously drop anything to help her without any explanation needed? Because, even after so many years and so many beautiful people with lovely souls and smiles, Sirius would still choose her, each and every time?

Was his ardent desire the one thing pushing her away?

Sleep was futile after that comment, leaving Sirius tossing around his bed like a hurricane. His mattress creaked below him with every overexaggerated movement. After about half an hour of this, a shadow formed above his tired—but sleepless—eyes. Sirius opened them to Remus standing there, coat on over his pyjamas.

“Sneak out with me?” he grinned.

“But of course.”

They took the invisibility cloak and went to Black Lake, their usual spot. The cold air helped numb Sirius’ aching tiredness, beginning to match his energy level with his inability to sleep. Even when he sat down on dewy grass next to Remus, he felt endlessly more awake.

“You kept moving in your bed,” Remus said, looking straight out towards the lake. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Yes, Sirius’ insides gasped. Yes, because you’re a good listener and my best friend.

Outwardly, Sirius matched Remus’ indifference. “You don’t want to know.”

Remus looked at him. But it felt more like through him, through his flesh and bones, to the heart pumping and beating and quaking. “What do you know about what I want?”

Remus’ eyes looked like the lake they were sitting in front of: deep, beautiful, dancing with the glittery reflection of starlight. Suddenly, Sirius was aware of how close they were sitting to one another. Suddenly, his heart wasn’t only beating and pumping and quaking, but skipping beats.

Because, if Sirius was being honest with himself, there wasn’t always only one person. Of course, Y/N caught his eye first, but seeing her was a rare phenomenon at first, only becoming a constant enough to be a reason for Sirius to wake up everyday during third year. But since the beginning there was Remus Lupin. Remus, who had a big appetite for chocolate, always put his right shoe on before his left, had read every book known to man, liked sly remarks and was good at making them, and drank most everything out of his assortment of mugs. Remus, who had a talent for making him feel happy, be it through a crude joke or a secret smile or a quill to the head.

Remus, who he had been this close to kissing before. At some party in fourth year, when everyone was too young to have alcohol but still acted drunk, and people were playing spin the bottle. On his turn, he spun, and the neck of the bottle missed Remus by something Sirius had naively labeled “luck.”

“It’s a pity,” Remus teased. “I’d be a good snog, you know.”

Now, almost three years later, Sirius was finally ready to believe him.

But, in fear of wanting too much, too many, two, Sirius turned away. “I know what I want,” he lied, stupidly, desperately, painfully.

Not wanting to have ruined his friendship for nothing, the next day, he found Y/N and asked her to Hogsmeade that weekend.

“With James and Peter and Rem—”

“No,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Just the two of us.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think about how I’ve treated you for the past few years, but God, Y/N, I just… I’ve liked you so much since the moment we met. And I just didn’t know how to act around you except being my normal arsehole self—which is no excuse to have been an arse, I know— but you just always… you’ve never let me catch up to how I feel about you.”

Y/N was laughing. Was this just some sick joke to her? Sirius went to open his mouth again, but before he could, she was saying, “I guess that’s better than hiding it in a diary and pretending it's not real.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You can’t… do you really feel the same?”

“Sirius, you are a massive—” Y/N said, while taking his hand in hers, “—absolute, oblivious, fool. Why would anyone hang out with you willingly if they weren’t totally weak for you?”

Sirius laughed. Part of it was joy that he got to squeeze Y/N’s hand in his, feel it, hold it, support it. But part of it was false; for, that statement could apply to Y/N as much as it could apply to Remus.

Now, a few months later, Sirius and Y/N had had their first date, first kiss, first night together, full of writhing and gasping and “I love you’s” mouthed directly onto skin. Every time he looked at her, he still saw her as the breathtaking girl across the dining hall at the Sorting Ceremony, as tough his eyes were time capsules incapable of encapsulating the beauty of what they held. Maybe he kept her at a distance subconsciously. Maybe it was because he knew he wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship he wanted to have with her. Or maybe, he knew having her love would feel too real to fathom, too large to hold, and he couldn’t manage to make himself do it until there were no other options than to get past the fear and learn to carry the love he used to secrete.

Even while looking at her now, he was in awe.

Even while looking at her now, he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had kissed Remus the night before.

Perhaps things would be less tense now; the dorm room would be wordless if it weren’t for James’ nonsensical but necessary blabber and Peter’s desire to talk whenever an awkward silence broke. Perhaps it would be as loud as it used to be (if not louder, for obvious reasons) if Sirius hadn’t so obviously turned himself away from something he wasn’t against as much as afraid of. Perhaps, more than the kiss itself, Sirius now longed for a bit of normalcy, wishing he could have both the girl of his dreams and his best friend. Be it in the same way, in different ways…

Sirius was so deep in thought he didn’t realize he was staring across the courtyard with narrowed eyes and that Y/N had wordlessly awoken from her slumber. Both of these realizations happened at once, when Sirius felt a touch to the bridge of his nose that didn’t come from his own fingers.

He looked down to a Y/N happy enough to be faking a pout. “What’s that for?” she asked, referencing the furrow between his brow she had helped calm.

Sirius sighed. His hand rose to lift Y/N’s finger off of his face, directing it to slip into the crooks between his fingers instead. Despite the apparent intimacy of the gesture, Sirius was removed; if he felt more comfortable, his eyes would meet Y/N’s, which they couldn’t do. “I just feel… I don’t know why, Y/N, but I really think, for some reason, Moony’s angry with me.”

“Oh.” Now the frown was real. “Do you really not know why, or is this one of those ‘I don’t want to admit I did something wrong’ moments?”

“Come again?”

Y/N sat up, making it more difficult to avoid her eyes. “I just feel like you both know one another awfully well for you to not know how you could make the other mad.”

“I guess,” Sirius blew out a breath, “We, um, argued… and both took it more seriously than we needed to. Now neither of us will crack first.” It wasn’t far from the truth: both of them had taken that moment with immense weight in the way it shifted the dynamic of their relationship, and now, neither of them wanted to bring it up to the other.

“You’re both mature enough to have that conversation,” Y/N complimented.

“Yeah. I just think he’s not done cooling down from it. I don’t want to push him again too soon.” Again, not far from the truth. But it was still a lie. A second lie, which worried Sirius in the ease of its formulation and distribution.

“Well, I’m headed to study with him now. So if you want, I can ask some not-very-sly-because-they’re-far-too-pointed questions.”

Sirius finally met Y/N’s eyes; now, it was she who was wearing a tense brow. Sirius echoed her previous movement to relax the spot before kissing it. “Would you do that for me?”

“But of course,” Y/N smiled, standing up. She collected a few things from the ground: her cardigan, her bookbag, a dandelion. She held it up to Sirius’ mouth. “Wish me luck?”

Sirius blew and watched the seeds dance around him. But, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t quite sure what he was wishing for.

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Pt. 2 NOW AVAILABLE! read here

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @siriuslyimmoony @astertist @who-cares-unknown @neewtmas @sjriusblck @boring-viola @moonlitdiggory @gryffndor @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @the-apple-princess @sly-vixen-up2nogood @bluemadcnna @lonelyheart-jadedsoul @starlitfawkes @swellwriting @young7711 @fandomsxo @kar-loves-you @some-blondes-unicorn @bethanystan @starlitfawkes @jamcspotters @siriusoricns @swellwriting

#mine #writing #moonlit members #carlysfamily #sirius x reader #remus x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x remus lupin #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #remus x sirius x reader #sirius x remus x reader #reader x remus x sirius #reader x sirius x remus #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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well-i-guess-i-could-write · 6 years

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Chasing kisses part 1

So I have been given a wonderful opportunity by @revengingbarnes to write one of her prompts. And again I am a coward so this is where it is written. I think I will do a multi part piece. I don't know. We will see.

It was amazing what a patience could do for someone. One minute you think you're going to die alone, the next, your picking out a home for you and the person you're going to marry.

Steve had become a part of your life quite unexpectedly. But not subtly. The first time you met him, you were both just kids. About fifteen and sixteen years old. You being the younger. It was the beginning of then summer and your family owned a summer house in Brooklyn. It had been inherited from your mother's favorite aunt and your family only used it for your father's work at the new York office.

You'd met Steve and his friend James, whom everyone called Bucky, while leaving a local dinner with your older sister, Y/S/N. When your arrived some not so nice gentlemen had taken it upon themselves to sit with you without question. You'd told them it was a private meal, but they wouldn't leave you both alone. When the two of you decided to just leave instead, they'd insisted on walking you home, despite your protests. "Two young ladies such as yourselves shouldn't be all alone." after all.

You'd barely stepped four feet away from the building when the scrawniest man you had ever met followed you out. He was practically blinded by his own blonde hair with the most determined face you'd ever seen and a deep set of blue eyes that you could swim in.

“Excuse me ladies, I couldn't help but see you looked a bit uncomfortable. Is everything alright over here?” He asked he couldn't have been much older than you if at all, but he certainly felt more brave than you did in that situation. For a moment you were tempted to say no. To tell the truth. But this man had been kind enough to offer help, you didn't want to see him get hurt. In a flash, the man to your left held your would be white knight by his collar.

“Beat it, kid.” He growled into the man's (boy's?) face.

“Not until the ladies tell me everything's alright. You can never be too careful.” The man said with a defiant smile. There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he probably did this a lot. He also probably got hit a lot. But none of that could stop you from feeling special.

You could sense the man who had been pestering you getting angry. He lifted a fist to punch your would be rescuer. You flinched as his fist connected with the man's cheek bone. Reeling back for a second hit the man's elbow was caught.

“Now I don't think you want to do that do you?” You turned to find a tall beautiful brown haired man that looked just a little older, not much, but definitely taller than the other boy who'd tried to help. He was definitely more intimidating.

The harrassers' faces scrunched up as if wondering if you or your sister were really worth this much trouble.

“Alright, now who are you?” Your harasser asked.

“Me? Just a good samaritan wondering if you'd like to pick on someone more your size? I mean why embarrass yourself in front of these two young ladies by hitting someone just cause they're smaller?”

“None of your business.” The harasser growled letting go of your first attempt rescuer who stumbled to the ground. Your instinct said to make sure he was okay, but you didn't want to see him get anymore hurt if your harrasser got angrier.

“Oh really? Cause you see I've been watching for a while and it doesn't seem like these fine young ladies wish to be in your company anymore? Or am I wrong?” He looked to you and your sister for confirmation. You couldn't bring yourself to nod or shake your head, but your eyes spoke for you. “I think you should get going.” Before the harasser could say anything else, a police officer strolled by looking on purposefully.

Without another word the two boys left, one of them dropping your attempted rescuer. You immediately bent down to help him up. “Are you alright?” You asked in concern.

“I'm fine.” He assured you.

“That was very brave of you to help us like that.” You gushed, “And you even got hurt.”

“It's nothing I haven't seen before. It’ll heal in no time.” He assured. You smiled at his bravery.

“You're just a knight in shining armor aren't you?”

“Please ma’am ma’am it was nothing. Bucky did all the hard work.” He gestured to his friend.

“Well I think we have you both to thank.” Y/S/N claimed batting her eyelashes in bucky’s direction.

“She's right!” You agreed. “I'm Y/N and this is Y/S/N. We've gotta thank you gentlemen properly.”

“Well it's a pleasure to meet you both. I'm James but everyone calls me Bucky. And this is steve" he gestured to his friend. “Please there's no thanks necessary.” Bucky insisted in a chivalrous manner.

“Now I'm sure our mama would disagree.” Y/S/N refuted, “Please allow us to invite you both to dinner.” The boys exchanged a look before agreeing to dinner.

From that day forward, you and Steve were practically inseparable. Every day Steve would meet you and Y/S/N outside of your apartment after your parents left and ask what the two of you had planned. Usually it was some silly thing that Y/S/N had planned and still Steve would join you. But every now and again, the two of you would sit on the stoop of your apartment and read together. The classics first slowly working your way up.

By the end of the summer, you practically wanted to live in Brooklyn to stay close to Steve. Bucky and Y/S/N had taken to each other. But nowhere near the way you and Steve had. When it was time to return to your hometown you thought you might cry. The both of you exchanged addresses to write letters and you left for the year.

The year was filled with letter after letter of Steve retelling his brave quest to stand up to bullies and you reminding him to be safe. You had to admit, sometime in, you were in love.

By the next summer you couldn't wait for Brooklyn at sixteen your parents officially let you begin to date. And you were determined to get Steve to ask you on a proper date. It didn't take as much prodding as you'd thought because as soon as your family arrived to your summer home that year, steve was waiting on your front step, still scrawny, with big blue eyes, a bigger smile, and an even bigger bouquet of daffodils. You knew that he had gotten a part time job, but still the bouquet must have cost a fortune.

“Steve!” You shouted as you ran up then curb to great him..

“Y/N! You're back! I knew you'd be back today but I didn't know what time, I was gonna leave these on the porch with a note..I”

“Aw those are for me? You shouldn't have!” You gushed taking a whiff of the sweet flower.

“I wanted to know….if it's alright with your parents...if I could take you out, maybe, it doesn't have to be dinner, it could be lunch tomorrow.” He stammered. You looked to your father for approval. He gave Steve a sideways up and down before looking at your mother who simply shrugged her shoulders. Your father had never been able to deny you anything and simply nodded.

“It's a date Steve Rogers.” You claimed. After that first date, you spent every day of the rest of the summer together. Maybe not the whole day, but you made sure to see each other at least once a day. After year apart all you wanted was to be together. You never spoke of being Steve's steady girlfriend. Why? Because you both knew at the end of the summer you'd go back home. To Steve, that meant a whole other city of guys to compete with for your affection. To you, that meant the heartbreak of saying goodbye again.

Near the end of that second summer, while sitting on a park bench only three or so blocks from your summer home, Steve presented you with the first gift he ever got for you to keep. A small locket. It wasn't fancy and in truth looked a bit old. But the way he looked at you when he presented it made your heart melt for the short Brooklynite. He looked nervous and ecstatic all at the same time. Perhaps worried you wouldn't want it. But you accepted it without a thought.

“I love it.” You smiled fiddling with it as he clasped it around your neck..

“Take this as a promise, Y/N. I may not seem like much but I'm gonna be some day. And when that happens, I'm gonna marry you.” As you stared into his precious blue eyes your own sparkling like a rare gem you knew instantly, this was it for you. Steve was kind and gentle and everything you ever hoped to find. Maybe he wasn't the rich socialite you sister looked for, or even a future businessman, but your heart was set.

“I'll hold you to that, Mr Rogers!” You exclaimed giddily.

“You best,” he said pulling you close so your head laid on his slightly bony shoulder. You didn't mind though he was warm. “ I can see it now. A nice house, with a big picket fence and a yard for the kids to run around.”

“The kids?” You said hopefully. “How many?”

“Sweetheart, I want to have enough kids to make a football team.”

“Football? I didn't know you followed that?” You giggled, “How many players are on a football team?” Steve stopped to think for a minute.

“Either ten or eleven.” He answered with a smile.

“Well then we will certainly have to compromise Mister.” You joked nuzzling into him a bit. In a split second decision you lifted your head, prompting Steve to look at you, you stared back for a moment and leaned in just the tiniest bit. You hoped that Steve would get the hint and kiss you. You hoped, but he didn't not on the mouth anyway.

Instead, he offered to walk you home, where he kissed your cheek and waited for you to go in before walking home himself. You didn't get your kiss that summer, but you knew beyond a doubt that there would be next year.

And then the war came.

#fatima4kwritingchallenge #fanfic marvel #marvel #steve rogers #james barnes #bucky barnes

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brigdh · 7 years

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Yuletide recs, for fandoms A-M! I have just barely gotten this in before author reveals, and clearly still have half the alphabet to get through. Ah, well. First off, my own gift!! Water Lens Benjamin January, gen, 2.4k, Teen. “The good widow couldn't dump you in the fast section of the river, apparently,” January said. “It had to be the mud.” “If she'd only panicked five minutes earlier,” Rose agreed with a sigh. “We were on the bridge then – although given the state of that particular river I wouldn't necessarily put money on it being that much cleaner.” All my all favorite story tropes are here: bathing together and playing with hair and the OT3 and Rose doing science and there’s even a mystery to solve in here too! It is wonderful and I love it and everyone should give the mystery author more kudos. And here are my other favorites: so come home 12 Dancing Princesses fairy tale, gen, 21.5k, G. A detective is called to a space station to solve the mystery of whether--and how--twelve astronauts are accessing the surface of a forbidden planet. A very well-written sci-fi murder mystery, with great worldbuilding and characters. Recruits American Gods, Mr Wednesday and Mad Sweeney, 4.2k, G. The Norse god of battle and a mad Irish king walk into a bar. This is not a joke, my son: except in a sense, it is. They are Old Gods, it’s the New World, and the game must be kept going. Really great backstory on the gods in WWI. The Locust And I Awoke and Found Me Here on the Cold Hill's Side - James Tiptree Jr., 2.2k, Mature. Letter of Fr. Francisco Nadal to Fr. Bartolomeo Strozzi, 1588. The original short story is about the horrifying effects on humanity of alien sexuality; this fic translates it into Imperial Spain and makes the different cultural setting really work. Because everyone needs some terror on Christmas! And on the seventh... Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian, Jack/Stephen, 11k, G. This decision might be considered the luckiest, as standing near Jack meant that Stephen was not alone in his fall overboard. Or it might be considered the unluckiest, as standing near Jack meant that Stephen was foremost in the splinters' path, when the ranging shot abruptly found its range. Desert island fic with H/C, angst, kissing in the ocean, and new species of birds. AKA, everything good in fic. And for that riches where is my deserving? Benjamin January mysteries, Ben/Rose/Hannibal, 1.8k, Teen. If Ben was honest with himself, he suspected that one day Hannibal might simply vanish from their lives. He desperately hoped that this was not the day. Delicious Hannibal whump plus the OT3! What more could anyone want out of the tiny fandom of my heart? Family Gathering Books of the Raksura, Moon-focused, 2.8k, G. After some of Jade and Moon's first clutch are confirmed to be Royal Aeriat, Pearl wants the fledgelings brought to her bower. Ember thinks Moon should be there too. Really adorable baby-fic, with some lovely Pearl characterization. Home Books of the Raksura, Consolation gen, 4.1k, G. It turned out that living like people instead of monsters required all sorts of skills and tools. Cleaning required soap, and some inkling of how to apply it. Consolation’s flight, having been raised by monsters, not people, had none of the requisite skills. This is the post-canon fic about how Consolation learns to be a person that was my greatest wish for Christmas, and it's everything I could have hoped for. Mordre, She Wroot Canterbury Tales, Wife of Bath-focused, 8k, G. At least one pilgrim will not make it to Canterbury. Yes, you ABSOLUTELY DO need the Wife of Bath solving murders in your life. Just trust me on this. Underworlds: The Life and Afterlife of Richard Upton Pickman Cthulhu mythos, gen, 3.7k, G. Explore the life, works and enduring influence of Richard Upton Pickman, a controversial artist of the early 20th century. This exhibition includes several paintings never before displayed in public, including all of Pickman's graphic, unsettling "horrors" currently remaining in North America. The Boston Globe called Underworlds "stomach-turning food for thought"— but decide for yourself! Young children may find Pickman's paintings frightening; parents are advised to consider carefully before allowing them to proceed. This program serves as a guide to the exhibit. Audio versions for your mobile phone are available at the Parrington museum website. Such a well-done pastiche of a museum guide to a series of horrifying paintings. What Is Begotten The Eagle of the Ninth, Marcus/Esca, 7.5k, Teen. Esca learns the Latin word by accident, from Stephanos of all people. Soul-mate. A soulmate AU with an absolutely lovely take on the canon. Of Devils and Other Fine Things Fallen London, The Wistful Deviless/Zee-Captain, 1.1k, G. Wooing a devil can only end in tears. Really fantastic interpretation of what a relationship with a devil really means. head above water Gattaca, Jerome-focused, 1.2k, G. “Do you know,” Jerome’s mother asks his coach, “how Jerome first started swimming? Did he ever tell you that story?” Absolutely wonderful backstory for Jerome. Suspect Gattaca, Anton Freeman-focused, 1.8k, G. Five things Anton thought upon seeing Vincent was a suspect for murder (and one thing he said). Lovely character study on a minor part of the movie, this feel so right. Attempt #534: The One With The Bees The Good Place, Chidi/Eleanor, 8k, Explicit. “Eleanor!” Chidi looks even more upset as he blurts out, “The universe doesn’t want us to have sex, okay?” Eleanor chokes. “I’m sorry, what?” In which Eleanor and Chidi repeatedly try – and fail – to have sex. Totally hilarious, and also hot. Care and Feeding of Your Janet The Good Place, Janet-focused, 1.2k, Teen. Please read this guide carefully before activating your Janet. So, so, so funny. Operation: Seduce Michael The Good Place, Michael/Everyone, 2.3k, Teen. If at first you don't succeed, send a different cockroach. Really hilarious fic about the plan to seduce Michael, with pitch-perfect character voices and humor just like the show's. so slip your hand inside of my glove The Handmaiden, Hideko/Sook-hee, 2.6k, Teen. Hideko lets Sook-hee teach her how to distinguish sapphire from spinel and obediently bites the gold Sook-hee brings back to her. Hideko and Sook-hee, after. A post-canon fic that is beautiful and just perfection. Who's Got Who The Hateful Eight, Chris Mannix/Marquis Warren, 6.7k, Explicit. Warren makes inventive use of Mannix's sheriff star. And, for that matter, inventive use of Mannix. He thinks that will be the end of it. You know, as much as love Hateful Eight, I never expected to begin shipping Mannix/Warren. What can I say but that this fandom has some damn good writers? And they know their porn; good lord this one is hot. As Ice in the Desert Historical RPF, Richard I "The Lionheart" of England/Saladin, 2.3k, Teen. Saladin visits Richard's sickbed with fruit, and a question in his eyes. Gorgeously written, really some of the most beautiful descriptions I've read in quite a while. Two people on the opposite sides of the Crusades in a moment of peace. all the nameless that keeps us rising despite IT, Stan/Richie/Beverly, 4k, Teen. When Stan went over to Richie’s house after dinner to tutor him for their math test tomorrow he thought he knew exactly what he was signing up for. Beautiful depiction of loss and love and a game of spin-the-bottle. Epilogue Jane Eyre, Jane-focused, 3.4k, Mature. Not everything, Jane learns early on, is real. Deeply creepy alternative interpretation of the canon. I love this possibility. How Else Would Sailing Ships Ever Have Navigated? Jeeves, Madeline Bassett/Honoria Glossop, 2.3k, G. “Do you think,” Madeline said to Honoria as the more impressive parts of nature gradually crept up upon them, “that all daffodils are the daughters of sunlight?” Absolutely adorable fic for some minor characters with a pitch-perfect tone for the canon. the worlds that spin beyond our atmosphere Jupiter Ascending, Jupiter/Caine, 7.8k, Teen. When Jupiter woke up, there was a small metal sphere on the pillow beside her. She blinked at it, because it certainly had not been there when she had gone to bed the night before. Then Aunt Nino began to stir and grumble as she too woke up and Jupiter snatched up the sphere, lobbing it hastily into her half-packed suitcase on her way to go and make the coffee. In which Jupiter is propositioned by a space travel agency (but fancier!) and introduces Caine to her family. Gorgeous worldbuilding and wonderful expansion of the canon. I love the descriptions of other planets in here. Damsel King Arthur (2017), Arthur/The Mage, 3k, Teen. In which there's a girl, a dragon, and a castle, and Arthur resolves not to let the truth get in the way of a good story. Totally hilarious and a great fit with the canon. Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd Kushiel's Legacy, Phedre/Joscelin, 1.9k, Explicit. There are few things Phedre has never done. There's one she's never done with Joscelin. Wonderful hot and sweet fic. Het anal, which is rare to see in fanfiction, but so very well-done here. Midwinter Queen The Lion in Winter, Henry/Eleanor, 1.6k, G. Christmas at Chinon, 1183. Conversation gambits keep the Christmas fires burning. Cynical and regretful and funny and heavy, this story does a better job of capturing the voice of the canon than almost any I've read. By Degrees Mansfield Park, Mary Crawford/Fanny Price, 16.6k, Mature. Her conscience had been disturbed, and she could no longer dislike Mary Crawford enough to be safe from her, if such a thing had ever been possible at all. Really excellent slow-burn for one of my favorite Austen ships, and the Fanny characterization is just ideal. Canada Gold Mean Girls, Regina George/Janis Ian, 3.9k, Teen. Regina joined the CIA to catch bad guys. Unfortunately, this time, that meant she had to work with Janis. Yeah, so it turns out that the thing that's been missing from my life is Mean Girls f/f rival spies future-fic. I am so, so glad that this story exists because it's amazing.

#yuletide #benjamin january #books of the raksura #Hateful Eight #the good place #fic recs #also this is what I've been doing all week haven't read a word of my actual books

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networkingdefinition · 5 years

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Clovers Quotes

Official Website: Clovers Quotes

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• A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, Reigns o’er the fields; the laborer sits within His dwelling; he has left his steers awhile, Unyoked, to bite the herbage, and his dog Sleeps stretched beside the door-stone in the shade. Now the gray marmot, with uplifted paws, No more sits listening by his den, but steals Abroad, in safety, to the clover-field, And crops its juicy-blossoms. – William C. Bryant • April Rain It is not raining rain to me, It’s raining daffodils; In every dimpled drop I see Wild flowers on the hills. The clouds of gray engulf the day And overwhelm the town; It is not raining rain to me, It’s raining roses down. It is not raining rain to me, But fields of clover bloom, Where any buccaneering bee May find a bed and room. A health unto the happy! A fig for him who frets!- It is not raining rain to me, It’s raining violets. – Robert Loveman • At home the great delight is to see the clover and grass now growing on places that were bare when we came. These small healings of the ground are my model accomplishment-everything else I do must aspire to that. While I was at that work the world gained with every move I made, and I harmed nothing. – Wendell Berry

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Clover', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_clover').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_clover img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Because I liked you better Than suits a man to say, It irked you, and I promised I’d throw the thought away. To put the world between us We parted stiff and dry: ‘Farewell,’ said you, ‘forget me.’ ‘Fare well, I will,’ said I. If e’er, where clover whitens The dead man’s knoll, you pass, And no tall flower to meet you Starts in the trefoiled grass, Halt by the headstone shading The heart you have not stirred, And say the lad that loved you Was one that kept his word. – A. E. Housman • Believing there’s no such thing as luck is very unlucky. Like, the worst. Beyond stealing someone’s lucky four-leaf clover. – Caprice Crane • Clover secretly hitched a ride with a nice German couple and their new baby…Clover appeared to the baby, so as to be a delightful, soothing surprise. Well, the child did like Clover. In fact, she held him and cooed. When the parents turned around to look at her and saw their child holding a furry, living creature, they needlessly panicked. – Obert Skye • Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had never quite got her figure back after her fourth foal. – George Orwell • Commemorative stone in the floor of the Chapel of St. George in Westminster Abbey, London, dedicated in 1947: TO THE MEMORY OF ROBERT Baden-Powell CHIEF SCOUT OF THE WORLD 1857-1941 Upon one side of the stone was the badge of the Boy Scouts, the arrow-head to point the true way as it had pointed the way for sailors and navigators from the time of the earliest maps; and on the other the badge of the Girl Guides-the three-leafed clover. – Robert Baden-Powell • Crowds of bees are giddy with clover Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet, Crowds of larks at their matins hang over, Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet. – Jean Ingelow • Green clovers. Blue diamonds. Orange Stars. Pink hearts. Purple horseshoes. Man, I never know if I’m looking at a bowl of cereal or having another acid flashback. – David Henry • Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne’s Lace. – Edna St. Vincent Millay • His Labor is a Chant – His Idleness -a Tune – Oh, for a Bee’s experience Of Clovers, and of Noon! – Emily Dickinson • I found it.” “People find pennies,” Gansey replied. “Or car keys. Or four-leaf clovers.” “And ravens,” Ronan said. “You’re just jealous ’cause” – at this point, he had to stop to regroup his beer-sluggish thoughts – “you didn’t find one, too. – Maggie Stiefvater • I love discovering new young brands and watching these fashion lines take off, like Peter Pilotto, Christopher Kane, and Clover Canyon. – Gillian Jacobs • I noticed that all the prayers I used to offer to God, and all the prayers I now offer to Joe Pesci, are being answered at about the same 50% rate. Half the time I get what I want, half the time I don’t… Same as the four-leaf clover and the horseshoe…same as the Voodoo Lady who tells you your fortune by squeezing the goat’s testicles, it’s all the same: 50-50. So just pick your superstition, sit back, make a wish, and enjoy yourself. – George Carlin • I was in a vintage pub rock band called Clover in the 1970s. – Huey Lewis • I was talking to a Zen master the other day and he said, “You shall be my disciple.”I looked at him and said, “Who was Buddha’s teacher?” He looked at me in a very odd way for a moment and then he burst into laughter and handed me a piece of clover. – Alan Watts • If a man who can’t count finds a four leaf clover, is he lucky? – Stanislaw Lem • If a man who cannot count finds a four-leaf clover, is he entitled to happiness? – Stanislaw Jerzy Lec • If you meet a cross-eyed person you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants, fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four-leaf clover. – Anne Sexton • If you work, if you wait, you will find the place where the four-leaf clovers grow. – Ella Higginson • I’ll toss my coins in the fountain, Look for clovers in grassy lawns Search for shooting stars in the night Cross my fingers and dream on. – Tracy Chapman • I’m feeling lucky like a four-leaf clover – Jennifer Lopez • In New Mexico, he always awoke a young man, not until he arose and began to shave did he realize that he was growing older. His first consciousness was a sense of the light dry wind blowing in through the windows, with the fragrance of hot sun and sage-brush and sweet clover; a wind that made one’s body feel light and one’s heart cry ‘To-day, to-day,’ like a child’s. – Willa Cather • In the dark of the moon, in flying snow, in the dead of winter, war spreading, families dying, the world in danger, I walk the rocky hillside, sowing clover. – Wendell Berry • Into the air, over the valleys, under the stars, above a river, a pond, a road, flew Cecy. Invisible as new spring winds, fresh as the breath of clover rising from twilight fields, she flew. – Ray Bradbury • Last of all came the cat, who looked round, as usual, for the warmest place, and finally squeezed herself in between Boxer and Clover; there she purred contentedly throughout Major’s speech without listening to a word of what he was saying. – George Orwell • Let you hold in mind, girls, that your beauty must pass Like a lovely white clover that rusts with its grass. Keep your bottoms off barstools and marry you young Or be left–an old barrel with many a bung. – X. J. Kennedy • Listen,’ Clover said. ‘Don’t worry about not being able to come back, I’ve lived both places, and trust me, you won’t be getting the short end of the stick if you end up in Foo. I mean, candy alone. – Obert Skye • Love is as bitter as the dregs of sin, As sweet as clover-honey in its cell; Love is the password whereby souls get in To Heaven–the gate that leads, sometimes, to Hell. – Ella Wheeler Wilcox • Many books belong to sunshine, and should be read out of doors. Clover, violets, and hedge roses breathe from their leaves; they are most lovable in cool lanes, along field paths, or upon stiles overhung by hawthorn, while the blackbird pipes, and the nightingale bathes its brown feathers in the twilight copse. – Robert Aris Willmott • No cop was ever born who wasn’t a sucker for a finely-executed high-speed Controlled Drift all the way around one of those clover-leaf freeway interchanges. – Hunter S. Thompson • Now I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers and laid entwined together on a bed of clover and left there to sleep, left there to dream of their happiness. – Conor Oberst • Oak, granite, Lilies by the road, Remember me? I remember you. Clouds brushing Clover hills, Remember me? Sister, child, Grown tall, Remember me? I remember you. – Gail Carson Levine • On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover, A fisherman mends a glimmering net. – Czeslaw Milosz • One June evening, when the orchards were pink-blossomed again, when the frogs were singing silverly sweet in the marshes about the head of the Lake of Shining Waters, and the air was full of the savor of clover fields and balsamic fir woods, Anne was sitting by her gable window. She had been studying her lessons, but it had grown too dark to see the book, so she had fallen into wide-eyed reverie, looking out past the boughs of the Snow Queen, once more bestarred with its tufts of blossom. – Lucy Maud Montgomery • Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover; A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year; The spring begins before the winter’s over. – Elinor Wylie • Straw mulch, a ground cover of white clover interplanted with the crops, and temporary flooding all provide effective weed control in my fields. – Masanobu Fukuoka • The answer to this riddle has a hole in the middle, And some have been known to fall in it. In tennis it’s nothing, but it can be received, And sometimes a person may win it. Though not seen or heard it may be perceived, Like princes or bees it’s in clover. The answer to this riddle has a hole in the middle, And without it one cannot start over. – Trenton Lee Stewart • The dandelions and buttercups gild all the lawn: the drowsy bee stumbles among the clover tops, and summer sweetens all to me. – James Russell Lowell • The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility. – William Shakespeare • The fears of what may come to pass, I cast them all away, Among the clover scented grass, Among the new-mown hay. – Louise Imogen Guiney • The peace of great books be for you, Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages, Bleach of the light of years held in leather. – Carl Sandburg • The pedigree of honey does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him is aristocracy. – Emily Dickinson • The reason so many people never get anywhere in life is because when opportunity knocks, they are out in the backyard looking for four-leaf clovers. – Walter Chrysler • The shamrock is a religious symbol. St. Patrick said the leaves represented the trinity: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. That’s why four leaf clovers are so lucky, you get a bonus Jesus. – Stephen Colbert • The sweetness of life lies in usefulness, like honey deep in the heart of a clover bloom. – Laura Ingalls Wilder • The white moth to the closing vine, The bee to the open clover, And the Gypsy blood to the Gypsy blood Ever the wide world over. – Rudyard Kipling • The wind is awake, pretty leave, pretty leaves, Heed not what he says, he deceives, he deceives; Over and over To the lowly clover He has lisped the same love (and forgotten it, too). He will be lisping and pledging to you. – John Vance Cheney • The word Miracle, as pronounced by Christian churches, gives a false impression; it is Monster. It is not one with the blowing clover and the falling rain. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover; there’s no rain left in heaven. – Jean Ingelow • Through the open door A drowsy smell of flowers -grey heliotrope And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette Comes fairly in, and silent chorus leads To the pervading symphony of Peace. – John Greenleaf Whittier • To a lesser extent (they like) the whites and reds, but blues, yellows and oranges are the main bee flowers. Although there are very good white bee flowers – white sweet clover is the best honey plant in the world. – Chip Taylor • To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few. – Emily Dickinson • Today While the blossoms still cling to the vine I’ll taste your strawberries I’ll drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away Here I forget all the joy that is mine. Today I’ll be a dandy and I’ll be a rover You know who I am by the songs that I sing I’ll feast at your table I’ll sleep in your clover Who cares what tomorrow shall bring I can’t be contented with yesterday’s glory I can’t live on promises winter to spring Today is my moment and now is my story I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll sing – John Denver • What a miserable thing life is: you’re in clover; only the clover isn’t good enough. – Bertolt Brecht • What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells. – John Greenleaf Whittier • What was that you gave me to eat?” Winter panicked. A Filler Crisp,” Clover said, his eyes seventy percent concerned and thirty percent mischievous. – Obert Skye • What’s that darkness over there?” Leven asked. “It’s not good.” Clover said. “Then what is it?” ‘Bad,” Clover suggested, sounding as though he wasn’t all that impressed with Leven’s level of knowledge. “I understand opposites,” Leven said, frustrated. – Obert Skye • When they came to harvest my corpse (open your mouth, close your eyes) cut my body from the rope, surprise, surprise: I was still alive. Tough luck, folks, I know the law: you can’t execute me twice for the same thing. How nice. I fell to the clover, breathed it in, and bared my teeth at them in a filthy grin. You can imagine how that went over. Now I only need to look out at them through my sky-blue eyes. They see their own ill will staring then in the forehead and turn tail Before, I was not a witch. But now I am one. – Margaret Atwood • Winter looked at Leven. Leven looked right back at her. Winter’s cheeks burned red and her green eyes outshone Leven’s. The two of them stared at one another and then, as if they were destined to, thay began to lean into one another, Leven closed his eyes. “What are you doing?” Geth asked concerned. Winter closed his eyes too and leaned close. Both of them looked panicked and out of control, but it didn’t stop them from moving closer and kissing each other. Clover’s jaw dropped and he pulled something out of his void just so he could let go of it in shock. – Obert Skye • You have food?” Winter scolded. “I thought you said you were hungry.” I’m hungry for other things besides what I have,” [Clover] argued. – Obert Skye • You were clearly not doing your part in the clover search, perv. – John Green • Your patience may have long to wait,Whether in little things or great,But all good luck, you soon will learn,Must come to those who nobly earn.Who hunts the hay-field overWill find the four-leaved clover. – Sarah Orne Jewett • You’re walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and shiny little eyes comes walking along. And he says to you, ‘Hi, there, little lady. Want to tumble with me?’ So you and the bear spend the whole day in each other’s arms, tumbling down this clover-covered hill. Nice, huh? – Haruki Murakami

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

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Clovers Quotes

Official Website: Clovers Quotes

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elliearchive · 6 years

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SOME THINGS JUST MAKE SENSE AND ONE OF THOSE IS YOU AND I ➝ ADGAN.

TAGGING ➝ Addie Morgan, Regan St. James.

LOCATION ➝ Regan (and Addie)’s house.

TIME FRAME ➝ 3/6, evening.

WARNINGS ➝ None.

NOTES ➝ Regan pops the question with a few little helpers.

REGAN ST. JAMES

She had been sure about this before, there was no question of it. For over eight years now, Regan had been utterly, hopelessly in love with Addie Morgan, and while their situation may not have been the most ideal currently, the last week without her had only proven to her further that Addie was the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. It had taken a lot of planning, and maybe Regan had crammed it all into only a short amount of time, but that didn’t make it any less than what it was: Regan wanted to call Addie her wife. She never saw herself as one of those people who would even get married, let alone plan a big proposal, but as Regan stood in her dimly lit dining area, hands shaking as she looked over the handwritten sign, she almost didn’t recognize herself. She was lost without Addie, though, so it made sense.

Her house, usually so tidy and specific, had practically been transformed. Where the white walls in the entryway usually had only small, tasteful pictures and light fixtures hanging from them, they were now lined with photographs of she and Addie, printed onto polaroid style pieces. They were arranged from older pictures by the front door, to the front of which Regan had hung a sign simply stating ‘Memory Lane’, and progressing to their newer, more recent pictures together the closer they got to the dining room. There were arrows among them, too, pointing the way to go. Addie wasn’t going to go directly to the room where Regan was waiting. First, she was going to be pointed to the living room, where she’d be greeted by her youngest brother, holding the first sign simply stating the word WILL.

Brad had specific instructions not to say a word to Addie, and only to smile if she questioned him. He was going to hand her a red carnation, which Robin had explained symbolized love, pride and admiration. The next arrow would point her from the living room and to the kitchen, where Rain would be waiting with the next sign: YOU. Her instructions were the same as Brad’s, only she would hand her a tulip, symbolic of a declaration of perfect love. The hallway between the kitchen and the dining room would be where Harrison was found, his sign displaying the word MARRY. Regan was positive that by this point, Addie would have gotten the message loud and clear, but that was fine. Harrison would hand her a daffodil, symbolizing rebirth and new beginnings.

The last room was the dining room, where Harrison would point Addie to, and she’d walk in to find the place just as dimly lit as the rest of the house, candles lining the surfaces. Thanks to her sister, there were countless arrangements of the three flowers Addie would hopefully be holding by the time she reached the room, and they covered most of the dining room. Regan, wearing a black, three-quarter sleeved shirt with gold stars and half moons on it, as well as a pair of fitted black high waisted pants and neatly waved hair, earrings for that extra boost of effort, would be holding the last sign, and it simply said the word: ME? Knowing Addie was close by now, thanks to a text from Grant, she picked up the sign in one hand, the ring box held firmly in the other. All she had to do now was wait.

Well, that and try not to pass out. Somehow, she was holding it together this far.

ADDIE MORGAN

The idea of seeing Regan, while it was something she wanted more than anything, seemed like a terrible idea. She didn’t want to cry anymore, and she knew that seeing her would make her cry. So, she wasn’t really thrilled by Grant picking her up and telling her she had to talk to the red head, going as far as to drop her off in front of the home. Addie was beyond surprised as she went to enter the code for the door and noticed that it was unlocked. It made a chill go down the brunette’s spine as she worried that maybe something was wrong. However, as she pushed the front door open and saw the photos of them on the wall, she realized quickly this had to be some kind of set up. Addie followed the arrows, surprised to find Brad standing in front of her with a sign in his hand. The fact that there was a clear plan here did not escape her, and her heart began to swell as she hoped that this meant Regan wanted to be with her after all. Deciding to play along, she just placed a kiss on the top of Brad’s head as she took the flower and followed the arrow to the next room. Again her smile grew as she saw Rain, following the same pattern, a kiss on her head as she took the flower.

Will you, she thought to herself, trying to guess what she’d find next, maybe Regan would be asking her to move in again, and as she found herself staring at Harrison, she couldn’t fight her grin, giving him a hug this time as she took the flower. However as she stepped back to look at his sign, she swallowed thickly, the realization of what this really was hit her. She found herself walking quickly to the next room, needing to see that she was right, needing to see Regan. Addie stopped as she spotted her, her face falling, not from disappointment but just from shock of the whole situation, and maybe nerves? She couldn’t understand why she was nervous, but she really was. “Hi,” She whispered, stepping closer to the other woman, not even waiting for an invitation as she stepped forward, her hands sliding from her outer thighs up to her hips, as she stood in front of Regan, trying to process everything that was happening.

REGAN ST. JAMES

Given the fact that the person who had attempted to kill her lived close by, Regan of course had many necessary security measures in place in her home, one of which being a small alarm to alert her to the door opening. Never before had it caused her heart to jump up into her throat the way it did as she heard it right now, though. There were so many reasons her heart was racing as she listened to the footsteps entering and exiting the rooms marked by the arrows. Firstly, she was both nervous and excited to see Addie again. Secondly, and more prominently, she had a big question to ask her. If this didn’t go well, it obviously wouldn’t mean anything great for them. There was a lot riding on it, and Regan hadn’t really realized the severity until this moment.

By the time the door had opened to the dining room, the sign held in Regan’s hands was shaking, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she watched the other woman walk towards her, taking everything in. She felt like her heart was ready to jump right out of her chest, but the feeling of Addie’s hands on her hips, of her gaze locking with her own, it was all the familiar kind of comfort she needed. “Hi,” she whispered in return, swallowing the dry lump in her throat. Satisfied that Addie had read the sign by now, Regan turned to set it down on the table behind her, then focused on Addie again, the ring box hidden in her palm. Her free hand reached out to take ahold of Addie’s.

“Addie, I’m sorry,” she began — maybe not a great way to start out a proposal, but whatever. Her voice was soft, and Regan could feel her eyes beginning to sting. She was overwhelmed with emotion, she couldn’t help it. “I know I was so stupid to ever let you go. This time, last time… It was stupid.” She trained her gaze on Addie’s. “I’ve been in love with you for the better part of ten years now. Nothing and nobody else has ever come close to the way I feel about you, and I think you feel the same way about me, too. I don’t want the next ten years to be like the last. I want to spend them with you. And then the next ten years after that, and the next ten after that.” She could go on, but she figured she got the picture.

“I know that I have screwed up on more than one occasion, but for some reason you always came back to me, and I know that maybe I don’t really deserve that, but I’m so grateful.” Why there were tears rolling down her cheeks, Regan wasn’t sure, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She simply focused on Addie as she continued. “I want to be with you, and I want to be with you forever. I never thought I’d be the girl who got down on one knee and promised somebody to always be there for them, and asked them to spend the rest of their life with me. But that was before you.” Was she really dropping down to one knee here? Of course she was. She looked up at the other girl once she was in position. “I’d do anything for you. You’re not alone in anything anymore. If you’ll let me, I’ll be right there by your side. I want to call you my wife, Addie Morgan.” Regan let go of Addie’s hand now, producing the ring box in front of her and opening up the lid. “I know the signs asked you this before I could, but I want to say it too. I want you to know how much I mean it, and how absolutely, undoubtedly sure I am when I ask you, Addie, will you marry me?”

ADDIE MORGAN

There were plenty of times during this speech that Addie wanted to interrupt, tell her that she didn't have to say a thing, she'd agree to marry her in a second, but Regan seemed to be really on a roll, and she didn't want to interrupt that. She grinned as Regan went down on one knee, "You've never screwed up," She whispered, not realizing until she heard her voice cracking that she had begun crying. Addie stooped forward, loving that Regan was down on one knee, but she wanted the other woman in her arms, and pulled her up gently, pressing her up against the counter so she could kiss her. She knew Harrison and her siblings were probably watching and she couldn't do all of the things that she wanted to, but she could kiss her that was for sure. "Yes," She finally said as she pulled away, a huge grin spread across her face. "Yes, I would love to marry you." She breathed, her arms wrapping around Regan and pulling her up into the air, so Regan's legs could wrap around her as she kissed her again. "I love you so much. I can't think of a single thing I'd like to do more than marry you." She laughed, placing her down on the counter as she spoke.

REGAN ST. JAMES

It seemed incredibly old fashioned, getting down on one knee. It was a sight that Regan would probably roll her eyes at if she saw anybody else doing it, but it had just kind of felt like the right thing to do. Though, she had to admit, it worried her a bit when Addie leaned down to stand her back up again. Was that a no? The kiss told her that maybe she was worrying needlessly, and while it was only a small one, Regan put everything into returning it, because she’d missed Addie this past week without her. She couldn’t even explain how badly. She didn’t even register that she hadn’t gotten an answer yet until Addie pulled back and spoke, and Regan’s lips curved into a natural smile in response. “Yes?” She questioned, wanting to make sure she’d heard her right. There were still tears rolling down her cheeks, but Regan couldn’t even wipe her grin away. Her arms wrapped around Addie’s neck with the ring box still in her hand, her legs around her waist as she picked her up. “I love you so much, too,” she murmured against her lips, not even wanting to let go as she set her down on the counter, but they still had some official things to do. Like putting this ring on Addie’s finger. “Here,” she said, picking up the other girl’s left hand. Regan didn’t realize how shaky her own hands were before now, and she almost dropped the ring as she pulled it from the box, but she managed to keep it steady, and was soon slipping it onto Addie’s ring finger. From the corner of her eye, she could see the three kids standing in the doorway, and it caused Regan to laugh softly at the sight. “I think we have an audience,” she whispered, looking at her fiancée.

ADDIE MORGAN

Addie gave Regan her hand willingly, watching as she slid the ring on and allowing herself to actually look at it for the first time. Addie had never been the most girly, but there was no denying that the ring was absolutely beautiful. Staring at it, it was pretty easy to tell how well Regan knew her, knew exactly what she would like. Addie only looked away, back up into her fiancée's eyes when she heard her speak, and turned slightly to look at back at the various members of her family that were stood behind them, each of them smiling happy at the fact that they'd helped Regan pull everything off. Addie pressed a quick kiss to Regan's lips before backing away and moving over to them, bending down to pull all three of them into one big hug. "Thank you all so much, you're the best." She grinned at each, before pulling away and wiping away her tears as she leaned in to give them each a kiss on the cheek. "This was really amazing." She said, turning back to look at Regan now.

REGAN ST. JAMES

Even the kiss didn’t wipe Regan’s smile away, she simply kissed back and then watched the other woman in awe as she backed away and over to the kids — all three of which had been in her house for about an hour now without her bursting into flame, so that was a start. Slowly, she made her way over to them, offering them each an appreciative smile. “Thank you, you all did great,” she said, not planning to get any closer, but then the littlest one was suddenly clinging to her leg, and Regan couldn’t just ignore him. She didn’t even like to hold babies, so why she leaned down to scoop this kid up was anyone’s guess, but she did, and he clung to her side as she turned to her fiancée. “You said yes, that’s what’s amazing,” she leaned in to press her lips delicately to Addie’s again, “And thank God, too. I already reserved your seat on the jet to Rhode Island next week.” She teased, hoisting Brad up a little better. He was pretty heavy, but she was okay. “It’s just us tonight, Kristy and Hadley are gonna come pick these three up soon. And we’ll talk about everything from here, okay?” Regan couldn’t keep herself from leaning in again, not wanting to not touch the other woman. She pressed her lips against hers once more. “We’ll figure everything out.”

ADDIE MORGAN

If Addie thought too much about the past week, she'd probably get whiplash. What had started with a get away with Regan, a woman who didn't get away, and then there was the fight which had lead them to the decision to move in together. Everything had been perfect for an entire day, and then it all fell apart. Everything changed so quickly, and yet, here they were again, just a week later, tangled up in the sheets of Regan's bed -- or was it there bed now? Addie wasn't sure. -- and Addie was thoroughly warn out by her fiancée. But it suddenly dawned on her that there were things they should discuss. "Are you sure about this, Rae?"

REGAN ST. JAMES

There were many things Regan had missed about having Addie around, so many that it would be impossible to list them all. Sex was definitely on that list, and she’d made sure to show her exactly how badly she’d been wanting her, exactly how in love she was with her with each action. She’d felt it all in return, and Regan was sure Addie was just as exhausted as she was once they’d finally parted, though she wasn’t planning to be too far away from her at all. She was still trying to catch her breath, but scooted up to lean against the pillows, wrapping her arms around Addie and pulling her over to lay against her. “About what?” She questioned, reaching down to take Addie’s left hand. She picked it up to show off the ring. “About this? I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about anything.” She gently dropped her hand, then glanced down at her with a soft smile. “I know what it looks like, I know that it seems like some grand gesture to fix things, but that’s not it. I want to marry you, Addie. I’m more sure about that than anything.”

ADDIE MORGAN

Addie nodded at her words, "No, I know that." She smiled, pressing a kiss to Regan's lips, "I know you wouldn't do something like this unless you meant it." She wrapped an arm under the redhead and pulled her closer as she smiled at her. "Believe me, I want to marry you, I'm not saying that I don't, but I mean, it just seems really unfair to you." She frowned, "My siblings aren't going anywhere, at least not anytime soon, and you don't want kids. I don't want you to be miserable in a life with something you never wanted." She said, and then bit her lip, shaking her head, "I just want to make sure you're really sure about it."

REGAN ST. JAMES

Although she’d known on some level what Addie was talking about, Regan just wanted to put it out there that this wasn’t just her way of resolving their fight… If it could even be called a fight. She wanted her to know how serious she was about this, about them. She kissed back softly, gaze studying Addie’s face once they’d parted, pure adoration in her eyes. “I know that. I’ve thought about it,” she admitted, nodding her head. “I don’t want kids. I’m never going to want kids. Not my own, anyway. But that’s because I don’t want to be a mom, and I’m not their mom. Just like you’re not, but they need someone, and I’m pretty confident that this is something we can do together. We’re a team, that’s how it’s supposed to be. So we’re going to do this, and we’re going to do it together. There are more than enough rooms in this house for everybody, or if you want us to find someplace else, then we can do that, too. I don’t know where we’ll find a realtor, but,” she shrugged, expression playful. She let out a small sigh. “But I’m serious, Addie. I know what I’m agreeing to here, and I want to do it. I want to do anything and everything with you.”

ADDIE MORGAN

Listening to Regan talk seemed to put all of Addie's fears to rest, she didn't want to dwell on the unfairness of the situation, and hearing that Regan had really thought about it, it made her worry a bit less. Enough so that she could put it aside and just enjoy what was happening now rather than thinking about all of it. Addie laughed at her joke, shaking her head and then sighing. "No, I think here is perfect, as long as you don't mind kids running around here." She laughed and then found herself snuggling into the other girl, her face pressed into the crook of Regan's neck. "I know that you know you're great, but I'm not sure you know just how amazing you really are." She said, her fingers dancing lightly along the skin of Regan's back, "I really do love you so much. I thought I'd lost you again."

REGAN ST. JAMES

Regan had been freaking out earlier, and with good reason considering the question she’d asked the woman currently laying in her arms. It was easy to forget about how terrified she’d been now that she was laying here with her, though. This was where they were supposed to be, she was sure of it. “I don’t mind,” she said, and while Regan would never change her mind, while she would never be a fan of children, she really didn’t mind it. Not if it meant she had Addie. The feeling of the other girl nuzzling into her neck had Regan letting out a content sigh, her fingertips tracing gently along her fiancée’s arm. “I love you so much, too,” she echoed, pressing a soft kiss into the other girl’s hair. “Losing you isn’t an option to me anymore. I want you, and I want you forever. I hope you know how serious I am about that.”

#regan st. james.#regan x addie.#adgan x fourteen.#andiesmu

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alexispettey18-blog · 7 years

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Dressing Up Your Yard By James Brown In Gardening At Isnare.com Free Contents.

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barryjamesphoto · 8 years

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Wedding Photographers Staffordshire - Best of 2016 | Contemporary, Creative and Candid Wedding Photography for Walsall, Rugeley, Cannock, Stafford, Staffordshire + West Midlands Weddings | Barry James Wedding Photography

New Post has been published on on Contemporary, Creative and Candid Wedding Photography for Walsall, Rugeley, Cannock, Stafford, Staffordshire + West Midlands Weddings | Barry James Wedding Photography (http://barryjamesphoto.com/wedding-photographers-staffordshire-best-2016/)

Wedding Photographers Staffordshire - Best of 2016

2016 saw Barry James Photography in it's 28th year, and with the year bringing us another 35 wonderful stories to be part of, it truly was a fantastic year to be a wedding photographer! From the start of the year at The Moat House, to concluding the year again at the same venue, the year took us throughout the country both at familiar venues but also brand new venues to us. The adventure really did continue in 2016! Here's a look at some of our highlights from a year photographing weddings in Staffordshire and the Midlands.

First wedding of the new season for us and what better place to start than where we left off the year before – The Moat House Acton Trussell – never disappointing.

"We were extremely lucky to have both Les of Barry James and Stuart of Stuart James to photograph our wedding in January. They provided a very knowledgeable and professional service but at the same time were fun and informal which put everyone at ease – the result is beautiful photos. Thank you so much guys."

To say "you're welcome" Amy and Dan doesn't come close! Fabulous wedding to start the year! Deborah + Ian's February wedding was our first visit of the new season to the fabulous Hawkesyard Estate. As winter decides to give way to spring the grounds were already looking wonderful and made for beautiful portraits for this well suited couple. The start of April saw us with back-to-back weddings again at The Moat House, starting with Lyndsey + Daniels' wedding. There could have been no better time to start our main wedding season than springtime at the beautiful Moat House in Staffordshire, full of new life, with daffodils in full bloom, as it was today for Lyndsey and Dan, who celebrated their wedding here today surrounded by their family and friends. I absolutely loved being a part of this happy Disney themed occasion... The second of our weekend weddings at The Moat House came with Rebecca + David's wedding. Their wedding ceremony was at a place very special to themselves and their families, the imposing white church of St.Leonards in Bilston.

"Lots of people have been telling us how wonderful they are! We think they are absolutely fantastic! Thanks again for all of you and your sons hard work on the day and for bringing the story together."

May saw us return to one of our favourite venues, Oak Farm in Cannock for the much awaited wedding of Leanne & Gareth, today would be as much a party and celebration as a marriage.

The start of June was a first time visit to Pendrell Hall for the wedding of Julie & Ian. It’s not unusual for me to see people that I have met and photographed, what was unusual is that this was the second time I had “shot” the groom – I did his first wedding quite a few years ago! – must have made an impression.

A few days after Julie + Ian's wedding it was back to Rugeley to Mandi + Chris' wedding. I first met Mandi on a visit to Fine Flowers studio in Rugeley and thought what a lovely smile she had. It certainly showed today as she married Chris at one of my favourite churches St Augustines in Rugeley.

The first visit of the season for us to the very versatile venue that is Calderfields came for the wedding of Mandy and Daniel. Torrential rain greeted the bride’s arrival, thought we might need to call on Noah and the Ark! Thankfully the clouds moved away during the ceremony – normal service resumed!

Just like buses, you wait for one then two come along. Second visit in as many weeks to Calderfields Golf & Country Club, this time for the wedding of Carly & David.

Following our double visit to Calderfields, it was to another local venue for the midweek wedding of Jordan + Chris. There’s something about a midweek wedding, everybody from the guests to the caterers seem so much more relaxed, as it was for today’s wedding of Jordan and Chris at a church that means so much to me personally, St Marks Great Wyrley. It was then on to another all time favourite – The Moat House at Acton Trussell for the couple’s reception.

July started with a visit to another of our favourite venues, Packington Moor in Lichfield for Jo + Pete's wedding.

We have photographed weddings Holy Angels at Hoar Cross but this was to be our first wedding at the beautiful adjacent building – Hoar Cross Hall for the wedding of Kimberley and Spencer, who love horses so much they did not have a horse and carriage they had TWO and impeccable they were too from Marsden Carriages.

"Thank you both so much for the photographs they are stunning, thank you for a great job :-) x "

The week after being at the new venue (to us at least!) of Hoar Cross, it was back on familiar territory for the wonderful wedding of Sarajane and Mark at The Chase Golf Club.

It seems fitting to conclude 'Part One' of the look back at 2016 where we started at The Moat House for Zara + Mitch's wedding. After meeting with Zara and her mom, and listening to all of the plans for this wedding and celebration it was wonderful to arrive at The Moat House and see all of the plans coming together – today was definitely going to be a fabulous wedding day.

So today saw us back to one of our most favourite venues – The Moat House Acton Trussell for the wedding of Zara and Mitch. Stephen was going to be with me for the beginning of the day up to ceremony and then for evening return…….the girls had a great time with him leading up to the ceremony, and his evening photos were absolutely fabulous…..thanks again Ste.

So that's it for Part One. More to come...

Contact Staffordshire Wedding Photographers Barry James : [email protected] : 01922 691528 : 07803 503526

Weddings #BestStaffordshireWeddingPhotographers, #HighlightsOfTheYear, #WeddingPhotographersStaffordshire Contact us : http://www.barryjamesphoto.com | 01922 691528 | [email protected]

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