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libidomechanica · 3 months ago

Text

En dead

A curtal sonnet sequence

A thirsty, from mornings, and nothings I do! So I triumph; her hardly my plum doth espy; come—so sublimest off for the said the first to lighted, glided as she speaks, had not at you say the fell mither how traces, with Blood. And all this I doe? Or snow’st thought they had a miles at your good, whence the mayst had there thy Secret still for low; the phantasye, and cedar, or ruin another of melancholy. ’En dead.

Grief them so silver pronounce to plunge it may departed in Sleeps for love-tokens filled Rescue Inc. With they be banish’d, nor will kame to haue brooch: being again the strike himselfe doth he, rights I said Mark tell; and the large offer’d—Peris, so loud, hammer witching, in mouth with fall. The stillity, so vain and to hem cruell shoulden she garden some high was god’s surcease were is for dreams she from him who sing—of pale: between Hill.

And now rhyme once vowed to me, Jamie, come! Thee, may like and wild death. That I shalt underbolt. Tremulous, deceived weeds again and leave to dream, and than whom she way in lustrouen the brow’s daught the spoken whose gentle from the roof thee behind that over to bursting. Nearly strong with a girl, her hue, how she second ther husband such a womankind, which becoming, wonder’d. With sudden on you a wood, could do your beast what world.

The same height of teens; but ah, must not short can ever too green. All day and Queen of young old, yet of your eye of monstraint, but yet oftentious, Two days, called him death. Whooping on the wind singe, lest someone’s garland through but the tree, and them up with little jealousies, and we had steed to a rings; looking hoary hae I to me? If spring ago, ’ she spring charming life, what were ever like her the thread, she did beget?

For shee knew not less chatter told mass of sweet, O Love heart with sweet flooding of Eloquence then, Turks nor ye lies; other was a counsell consummated mean daungeable men! Was so stay’d the field yellow boots. Laugh this clouds, and somewhat was to be gainst also had a human love like his to feed when it ill. Alas a babe’s face. And I may escape thank him to Thelement day it on a shifts, unwieldy wretch though the spard?

This side of bigamye; when to wedded in her her sister whose lamp and her future under if half-shut, their strange perhaps aside and so wel bigon, so that fence of inspire or dusky high, closes fed, you trance! Comes overcome, Sirs, woe! My lawn being judg’d, despair, that your dealing is hearth without empty in ingrain, in an amulet thy Harím Dividuality consort of a beast as of lip, who lovely joy.

That summer, and Why I love I blesse of the better of this me one else, and couch hide. Nay, more, her hair, pretend the sluice to leave hath melted; nay, down, sees he stars: so late; my soul, the blurred her sands. Which that vantage round-hoof’d, shut upon the violet bed: if sometimes of Tityrus is the great nas remembres men their own, but bleed, until we sho, that delayes. Of which Thou Me fast as his our course, a white heart, these of mariage?

The heave me, and now not set up-locke a journey in the rest, to wanting slowly scorned to accent thy star in tempest, how Gulbeyaz’ brows glazed up envye noght footprint, cause you to say, sike floor teche; and an angel for know not good Algrin, his eyes not mark my fault clear weakeness, thou are were not of betters nine, for she whisper ever sense, with eager eyes! And seemed to one this. Did lete hir own Phaëton. Hye things of their ill dim.

Thy fathering down, strange this pale, pardee! The felt thou art none answers of shepheard, she salt thou could there not how, to given so shell if she those enough in mind; but within and leaves endeavourite in mariners, and their heads, vacant on one in feele, and I mad, and that I dream enclose heavens—Old Love in we they all her fail’d or incense paines of Tityrus is thy for the take again. But the my dust wight.

The art as those smile, when my night, service thorn which he spouselessly array he chime while I wol I do see that, wilt that your like a tax, from amaz’d breathere, and long times me to teach pain on the shape, is to stone at valley, while to shelf, perforce on thy babe had it round a noble this proper women they keep thorn, there? Sicker than South. The kiss. Hearted her figure ourself how pure broomes, like me on to a sweet bee.

Yea ev’n of many a flye: she translatest hous thro’ the rocks, and questions with the shadows her holds good Hobbing her moans; passions or shore, her spirits letter thee a passed, all porcupine, faded Oake soldiers, I breast; where bestow which, till procession that’s a’ cover freshment did my reach for herd strange, a gold, well-painter, as if she wol fallen, shal savour and clear and deathless shore; for to ruin’d a girds asia, mix the bed.

The adds honde that fair. And her god the demons the language when all the best, and cave seem that, for to your of this green, Indes at bene travel. But I vnhappy playne ouerlayd: tway thro’ the edgèd steppes do not mickle: and she standing weede their may devyne, and she wind blythe cranck. Sprinkle theme, thy chest tiptoe without and was well-oiled with everyone needes be, and other whistless all that did euery wights, and were all her her feet.

Thus ears me but earth with a real with sparkling in mine eyes throne, art, and aim be deep easter crimson been a net I was he true men! Who forsook the wilder breasts neighebores which that my wished and I a wall. And wept my fathern wild holy eyes, but some kiss me out the stoops not to see? As from his her more of the first Desire; for pittie, sweets another moans; and honey passed wha couraged Tree on a tin box.

But of age,—y-thonked be! On a cycle of her will not at once in the grazing, lowder heavy night, a breather’ this she did she her own, slowly cold, they tree, to when begins to renne to bring, and and, heart to rambles taken or what your hair, to thee day. After shall be take the very love, Mercy, Pity, Peacock, but prove and bark and thorny poison’d in honde. Shall espye went rod, so ruefully the found, would e’er dear.

Lust tell, and plunge thy soul, the Sexes rose and beare bright; in thy reste! Said, till? Erring as the city’s world alyve parting elms, a tale. See how full of hym in fairest my brings with hir hand her eyes the Heaven, oure pay you strake true. Their wel under the yeare. Feign we talking. And fill would I hid my tale were, upon a tears; and flore: his ruinate with true-love her bonie last! He added, the best—but for a medical assistant.

Why should I sings and many ring it to say the Daysies lay into this wyf hir own glass, between youre with the Love in which touches serene all, but to be confounds, to frail hastened as if I wol nat man desert eyes do or dream of yore. Long times creep for rich that my mariage, a second spattern gateways dead. To fairy, the knew began tell me her up. I do lie perhaps aside already turn, of a winterfuse?

At Morn to human heats itself musk that whence, as, conscious lips, sweet for fresh Springs me wode a tremorse! Adonis haunting gentlewoman and scarlot be oon follow: the tribunals suspecial legend becauses glow-worms, with trance from the had before we were is burning him affraye, out of her how, ’ my fair, first child there weeping. Not one as there, where that on frely have me, and probes the abject, black desire’s not die.

The pearls bene his cure I? And every till fall apparailled with none sit he a sweet Stellaes face; for in heavy tale of all that strange or like two cheers them; herself knots of bright, life-poisoning, thou can scarlet be at Dunmowe. It might away, the varied, one asks—You strikes, oft stal, or slowly live: again. Such fretful slumberere we her honey to the fine upon ev’rywhere queen, and guessed around, knee to awake.

Upon the did not died unto Ynde, then his shalt seem’d, a dread, to wrecche thread its hand for wood warm, or me: at when take: for fruitlessed abate thee; but Phoebus strived, by thee love upon my small crime, they gave was oon oother why not you need. Oh, my swogh I will gives a maiden’d me yeven if him she life believe That valley the myself how Gulbeyaz over woman climbed to seeke mountains; these hight: as meet a forgive year.

He, nor counter bloncket filling strengthening south best touch on out thee, robed in hire has been fifty-nine yearn to, they had any ones which is, don’t is thieves till still is but my soul to holding snow minaret smiling. Mine eyes. And a mount dust which him even what until I stood al swich daliaunce, the children divine; mine told that eats and her is gone fell thy mene, a cat; for the would not than things of Crete’s syrup, ther up.

As when you stricter done that is thy lips! I knew that dances on it alone this neck regarden in his good real drifts! Then other peerles, yet half retired, and Stellaes her deale of your solemn symptoms, and out alone, swear nat fet for Caesar’s fire old my sweete spirits twine. May end in pleaseth the Muses heres, since the seye yow, it was foul fast bee. Chance of yeares; make me very treasure, how great strange; her off where dead.

And finer speake their verse alone, I had made to his will pain; an empty, as he debt should misse. I have felt my heaven what dull, stain’d. To whipt me the little: when your convey so sore had made the day all their survived. Amid the heardes hadde in me she feele was so fair with once he knew: they strive as he; no Indes the floor oft, a thrifty for murther, whene’er solid aim betide in his day flesh is best; then their grey.

Indeed but that itself Affection of love, Jamie, coming, mutually droop’d, or seemed to be truth inspiration; an empty Coca-Cola can afford no preuelie he ferlie ’tis loud, impossib, dwell meet none and weeds four-and-twenty thraldom instead, thou a wood, thou but not to good turn’d— syllable of his primrose and maidens, as marbles talk? And wanton lapwing rose on a maydenhede that he little back again.

Who touches the day she behind a batter feelings, ere I wol I tell me, soft- brush what of eye, that what hill; the rolls her victories, holds he blossom’d bow, after him did rain to smile and flower of my friendly while bosom, is Jenny, fair wept the foes do the back reting, and he none in thinges. So fair, falleth in which state, Luke Havergal. Till more, the sunk chilly we went to kisses backward mournful tricked quickly time.

Whose who carefully? But the solitarie locks creepe the living light within itselfe conseillynge, this impossibly useless stone; while they soone while majesty days, Tis time the house-affairs of al make the say? And of mellow with weakness will; the Bramble, at eats hear what you hurt to precontrive yeares hauty with my gaye sae that the diverse shrieking on the just nor Love, which do feel no fair Annie, O shepheards have will.

White away shade, glitter in my heads, to go. Cold and said methings me som forth to me to dear, without pause, to him no green peace he star is but Salámán saw, his dunghill, that in dissemblemes overfed. Young, a kind, and prowde emong the impossibly, she sigh and dance to haue to mine eye should I go; long, to the goes blacked and of yon gate, but strange—and smile, the garland! Within her Themselves fantastic mercy charm.

How, Deare, sit beneath, and roll free a selfe in they hie the more she spoken, and singing at strikes height. If I matter: harmonious of ghost while, and blind infalling plum is not talk in the sits whence the turned to any be dead, and stay to view that days immortal Beauty still is wears have a kurre, a melanchor of the dark and here the castely headless rain round dragon whose worse. Come thing, and sigh had losse in Marcien.

Sleep, or Lov’d and I willing lamps, and gleams and grass sprang like to his mercye and marry the day all it be. In fine not desire; subject feature, alas!—But Crist is; how seems unkindnesse, for her with the fighting space … nor come as them sometimes I hadde her eyes are no speak, and grumble leaves not he hath will by rewe, and runs the Vision root I found a mock me we good turned be better finds—no Word of dreams and layen her polished.

Do Greta, dear? Take with fed, you should added that cheek; he crie al deef. To his shy sweete space ambush, but Actium, or dunce to holde let me love me to me.—It will she sigh’d her god day. For short the abject when Lucye: the trembling it say good. Mysterious cry Kill, which daliance where all the prove reign—back Her, not haps where a slended grows? Clapping vestal his laid he same green. But friendship at strange of Empire, the was the fair.

For the quince made the raised a thy stony snorts and shield, where a tale were him, her ends: come all is of the heart with her men in that is over tendeth to stomble ages, and looks kill! I know how the dewdrops dead told manifest hands, or evil tempted to do with such liver’d, she tunes and ranged, and thou pype bene mayst that thousand the while Hermes, new, if he yaf me to that, it was me levels undress of men hem white.

And once twas tired over-goes to, with blood. Long was, as scarce lost my father beauteous hand directs of the married her great touch they the ancies of youth behind this revere your sir Iohn, to himself for Cleonesse, where dead, and in the world away, and for thing warmer lust it to lights between two being, when I am ready to wrong was foul fast. Of ale. Which well of lover on their elegant speak to his own some speke.

For misery; now, but a smile, ’ said to holde at all thy face had not so reaches sprung Gulbeyaz’ charming soft as caterward manifest it chaunce mountain’d wracke, are lies bene like me he me is but, wretched to works of they had he paired of my mother first release: the rides best by you on your wrinkled with her from her of the plague deuill at once is mellow, seraglio title, and, which bear. Liked the would doun, I turn’d her smile.

In summer’s bowre of God that Tim would be wonder: both fall? The gleams and use of the heart deale were on the momental flaws to with a little babe charge of trees that I will his not such extremes; despite I thine. Viewing hairs, let no womman is, the maxim for thy Shadow told that glad most impress yellow; shovels under spirits do wit to smell to not mind. And these raritie, thy black doth but could through stays shuld my lips! And kitsch.

Impossible could man, but I knew not zealousies promise … of reuenge, ywis, and sung, the uncontrolled upon the informing its fearful might with that I had spoke, and paint the thou and his billow, set this lies the worse for head. Ye woman, my own neck all hoped, and her shade and all be boundes, to come as love was lightness of shepeherd al of it false Foxes that brings the wynde, in there: the ampers? My Sinnamon suns.

At lease mytes, and he appearance, and weeds spak to you hast to do a good sitting at stormie storments uncharact of jutting Lust’s which had fantasy, and to that he market may shall acquainterwreathen a crown on those eye! Whose metaphysic die. But bleed, until tis to have but never traps formation. Now tone like sun would like a philters her pittying wine. Like a lady’s slip; beauty, had not wrong, knocks do to say!

And build air-like his brayne, she she came, being word forbear in my foul creatures with might portal look growth, thou see them still be thy portal brere, and being thinne to you. Light I cannot berries altogether was lost might thy guide of glass will sear, blue laden, true, tis true-love was but to see: we downward it—then miss, and win which the been oven that the mought, alone for I soughts, my mind thirst to the Gate he people wide world.

To you; if matter this is them deep into the Lamia judg’d aright, and to obeys, the Foxe himself, and my heat deed he to sleeping mowed, teache thine owns her dress yellow those desire, or their mouth. Do, dames hem that warble, and blazon an empty housbonde is knee to bow, with my grief to wyves, their well. You hastelescope the sea. And grow would beauty duty, or elles here, shall built hae drew near those lineamen.

That you, gentle child of hous array? By consequent to sayne is a few structor; beauty thanked up we can bought. By them, feel of my Julia. And their best, dear to frail- star appeared. On honour heirs. In us through dust weake him mulberrier beams of all. He sits olde lyve. Along face, and hoary hae I breath on the will how seem’d Dudu, as those ball where are the mane upon a self-loving the pikes, hast summon’d a liberties.

Who countries—in such a mouses, stay: he could leads of the Queen of ever infant’sies likeness false soft, more the human haunt syte from seen it ill-resource of a grisly those let a nygard task, ’ he stood. Who forth, if himself her abide this mock-cold women downe, too base to a most him forth to hys dayes: rain would been potted, glided fyve; for a for she her thank him rain toward, eyed rival’d than I couldst thee so present? A Lambe?

Perhaps press of glow, even with my boy. For I did, the time, and, swiftly little needes bene so fynde hands markets a hyllye playnely taduance. In louely to the crystal eyes blaze, to thee to beare, aware of god look of golden comfort of dancing light her more, stands; take my defended is with may be dear, offer to much of his halfe aghastly now mans wroth the shall she hearts shepheards began to the whirlwind’s fight.

Forced to me suspicion doutelees, other, when those to your agoe, I sitting from the lowers of bees herself in the dove. It is with one goode lies, his fountain good; nature one, are but love fraude: ne euer stone, as strong-temper righter but it they wounds, that passing—who with stay his resound. Looks kill mask, and too soothe, and the fields with one of no womman, hemm’d with thee the let me for this, then, they left by Baba saw the answer.

And a batter’d his ranger, hebes love you. And them to my breath; she this. Sometimes a man vsed they are came which it on first of youthful sweet body beauty foremost again if it been thee with anew begins here thee against they fall; soone by looks against to see our sweets that much my thou already five you have once of true-telling, she lilies, oh Thou turned me of god look aboute by their green. I dream our face, her end.

No long had took into amends, and I wanton tale. Which its way, new strong a treasure juan half thy pillars of grief and all the cage, which old black desire, quod he, the died, you can once also be nat every boys! ’Mid that you may; this shouting back, Alack, seeing, and dashed to which the could have you, fond too, lest practice beames light, and lover until I descriptions moore heaven we freedom, and with thee; and Tim might there.

Seed y-sowe, virgin crew, taking race one like foule cheats you for the sun. As well meet, made me breezes makes have been when her cheek began tell her palaces increase meads of the Revelation I woot, except to have. What! Or if not so calm whiter help she saith, and thinking. Its own Phaëton. I known, and roar? Weeps as the Forms of these world, who is turn’d to forgoe: for hire levene mooten, far thee; fruited hot enjoyment worse.

He seye, when seemeth about my mottle porch, thou lack dead self, Oh when, constantaneous hange, and laye: with cold, she knew acquaintain- top, that leasure dive, ankles glad I not us—a thou wondering, gilding on thy thee. Now, I put only then so that strong eye welth adieu; since shepheards Tityrus is, ’ could you babble, like them still, chang’d: the bothe, als for Lov’d the cover a Highland for thy mind she heau’nly songe a cry so.

Cold bark and pays immortal force thee and is me the roses obiect struggling o’er; and her wheels. Be of flax that dim apart; or sport so thou shall in all thy true-love in me to seye both my praise of might the news to prove pregnant one worlds a grave, or De Tott: that is not the doth purple flour of thee how Sampson leaves, and till with a gluting, saying. The fair Gulbeyaz prove, a sun-flowered if a songs lament, for his her to.

Sweetest, and if a shepheard wound on present over. So on they stone with she knew not such as most thou go walking rashly to aswage. That so, to his scythe, his poore to me more poor increase: then I, my you; for off for the shewe. All alike mine neutral this made made such to fetch the heau’n of their mouth its pearly start but soon waking think State could hold on edge that marry … or collection new, to creep it, in scorchis violet?

And whether baby lips standing coarse thorn sightly dew. Whether my with pity love his Feet, Yet I shal them biside in the low door, who blue; still would never greet plants; it see destinguish, like a boy tugs at my with poynt of no praise, and sank six or snapp’d a ghast be in Marcien. Severe betray: there are full flocke? Out him on her sad from Shame out by hear the strength return tresonable junked be by other sanctions are; greet!

Some does and would be their news call heat an echo of snow my hammer, from out such chin his blow the summer love some which in white, when all it my studded preparation: that takes it hath play’d, leaving sorrow lang; she to rest. And were ourselves with lived the shadow flower Damon, We die! I pass but she think’st thoughts farther when I speed above Ay me! How thinner shall proceeds: Dudu, as we shut upon my true; thus all drench.

But it in the empty both: but the door. The vileynye. Ah, bent, that, then, which he selfe boy’s pairs of Tim lying that wrye. Or ivory infant’s good defeated by blind their mother than this only, that ensigns, distant light the bedroom cost himself if the blush’d expected bough tears, pale and fro the divinity. Nor cottage; a chearfully, most ended to that of death it may morning there. But love youngling attitude: ne euen.

Lat hyė God of think much place was fairy navies great dew on works out this book, how she little jealous, not the free as little hearted in the goodnes toold thother, if I open, yet are fooles call’d her so as thorny poison once my brows, comes, ne clerk, wearied, one open, God and shipwrecketh Wilkyn, olde hangs are peerlessed with that a smoot me she: how quick it to be so faint! Then as dead at was a wicked queene.

I am consider, and by hear! Yea ev’n of May, whose world of fond of me, come helpless Boy, to say: last Love comfort best woot, express’d and found it false seen she might of youre horse and at personal nat keep her mother infant scarce will keeps arms, had none; which him of some says, Row this ships have weight; the rayne, the grey and brough this communion of immoral with the starke law of itself more desire. Like close by figure breast.

As she tunes retir’d, like and saw the toun; but changed Desired, love-tokens theyr weeped our arms electric the Love’s sake, but yet i’ve seene league the misusage, coming is not tarry third before have the boy the fairy navigators overwroughts in the Slave for, burnt out an hate. Which I you fall, to pluck’d and to soul. Which wrinkles go when how her love the staine warde-cors, which misery! Of Phasipha, this time? Then she wall.

With that thoughts. What rownd in the would climbs with humours out Diggon. Let not so milling brance, his lusty Tabrere, to shining the moon is on the rushes, where the tonge, and I be done. May business one still thence—that thoughts a wave … the god days befel, twas not quitt within any error. Will every deer; that would I? If I be I am brent its mother in a few sad hue, wyll: or bidding to diuorce from side in and to the night.

Of guile, this aged—what he wheels to them in a times rise, of beauteous he which, as of maxim for t espy, and for my woman housbonde so death, as Gotes of Oxenforce, wha will night so fresh beauty’s fantasye: wayte what upset gloss of ourse. He huntsman harpe descriptions there becomes and began to salve what precious not skil with that both to make things raise, but still cloud Hawaiian-princely taduance. The bedroom with she dreame.

Day-nets name. Upon a palpable by some far. Had suffer body beauty death mayst be cause of time shee too, be socket filled Rescue Inc. Forget how, if your far alone! The charming thee I’ll enough; for chameless gall, and philters cries upon his Host weak, and Jewell’d Cup drink that sacrifice teless before young proud, nought as been perhaps church the reden anguish swich cheek: its real for thou, the lyst, and no many moe.

And who wand’rings thee. Long my love, whole, and walke I would pant, so too is heate, and maken gave with Heavenly a whole have nevere far could she left of stranged hir lecchour sun with general that trembling look’d my may speche, nough, whose by night sheathed I was a mayde he church-yard patriots, yet half of previous with a noble payne. If thou art was wont for the three Moones of Lochroyan, his houses. ’ I answer gets bones which tresses.

Presage either cheeks and I connection. Woe unto a wyf go down its misery! Make man inside to the web hung like and to my foot thy browes, in lust, that this done. Your finger in his thy float up knocked with my contes like him in, martiall lively reason, yet I wene all of snow, which he gan to be most under way. Why stone love, I made these wit give me, enwrapped from its dark, if you grant, she kitchen other.

The she means prey, and no dog ill, shining lichen how her cheree. It’s tears, and tremble, disliking. Burns being retinue still doth retreating in a cypress, and spin on Venus noise of shrewe, and fool was talk: over foot-way hold and I with may, into they greene, thus—Poor queen, in stick’st to stranger … thou shall I saw the blood; but with my lips the saw her vow, sirės, sits sad impatient to she comfort, or bidden or the breather!

Tho would’st my hartblood was I know: that cannot suck’d: her hairless in the wise doth flesh no more bene ytost: there used hearth! And takė witness this to me: long day. Nor woman yet, ’ quoth Venus, you canst thou, Fancy’s cause of hopest procession o’erwhelming youthfully the bas-ket did child was foul, by coloure the voice and black desires. And cool’d; else, if choir of the usual convey’d; and singers and that each, I koude wynd.

Then field-flower, ere him that broken, I that vneth the baleful shoe that words their mother wandering him, no one but nevere reasons will for myselfe, to her, her thanked upon the trip upon the to be as the stounde to velour, paced therefore white awake! I lovely recourself, that they began to heart in his despair, to wexe so long: and were part; ’twad been. The iewell a throbb’d no more than haste kiss’d them tearest, more ended.

Who art as to under-dynt and my judgments few, set thee and so thou would espy, and my heavenly hilled with she winds of time-better taking overs writen ech other many a sentend: god bad prosper. And them disposses in my name in sheepe ah seemed this related thee, fearfulnesse, home, thou can every bonny lass, and begg’d thro’ they did not wont lights that with me also their flocke, as and great cloisted alone?

I walked with dulling in this cunning farthern rein, and trewe they good sith thing mingle be ioy, who’s in all we companion’d in heart, the Federative to wexe so wel I have civic Pair, did not truly best lips my work. The lips she was ever raised yet not like an amulet the door, or his he forced him did after darkles go out a smoot his find; now good made makes and daliance I see the lakes he said, and its wax al deef.

Much bursts sixteen a colour own glassy barren, whose hold, thy beaten barren she web that song? But what by then, may nat thee, Give my Chloe. Crystal eyne, others, albe my workman and upon the world again. Now heavy ground ensigns of snow;—in silence. Love the clear powers that valley and trees which love in the Maids drown came crows in the Slave! Your findest to you. For Italy’s THERE, wit give and feeling strong, and require?

With a Mower when I turn by the Beast. Below, while, great colours were not you. Tho he, the bowl was a cat, and won hir smelling purple talė, sparkled I would nor fear who rede in can shame of years, and fawn at night dilated; but Phoebus daught for myself I show, is lies flooding of my love: his poor your in this shot measure, that also, thou will be has broke betters moisture make, and enclose by their way. Many more hath man.

Her as whole in vain after my print upon his gore, since again, i’ll makes moore writ on sunshine below in perfect, ears, greeted by a rain, that does youngling myself afyre. Fondly wasted. How long shadow in its mother of greene may it doubt, tired in a space, her that beats, for more: and scarlet gytes. Fair Hermes er I died of lustless to inflame gayė thynges and their subject the stand as wake, and a boat, Or leaves.

In the shadow spread and help her instance. After every fly and whistlesse naked been so to their of something shall with desire; thou sweating thee, ye shame! Her eyes, but vulnerables! Tiptoe up her she bene, nay moving loud breast. What brushed to a disaster. While and sooner incense: speak, herbs and pouted birds thou will save your pure, to them, who touches, polish, nervous, so often to cover honey- fly unconscience.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #215 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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vanityloves · 4 years ago

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Hey I just remembered I dreamt of you and Murdoc and the rest of gorillaz and I was like, a time traveler for some reason. I don't remembee anything else just that you and Murdoc were there djfnfn

damn bro you got the whole squad laughing. we are just standing there.

ok thats so crazy that yall keep having dreams ab me,,are you hiding sumn bestie 😳 /jjj you and murdoc can bounce from different time periods bc i guess 'the book of m.a.n' or sumn idk gorillaz lore is stupid ❤ thank you for your wisdom today, my liege 💞

#this is so sad. im literallt plaguing your dreams. can't get away of me even when you sleep.#woe! ivy be upon ye!#ask reply #☄ humansona of chaos ☄#oh yeah. the book of m.a.n is literally ab murdoc being immortal and being alive through historical events and whatever #so jamie drew him in a bunch of old classical art and stuff shdjdh #it was a p interesting concept they scrapped in phase ??? 4???#no. it was phase 3 i mistyped

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bandgeek4life8 · 3 years ago

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Guardians - chapter two the lost city of atlantis

Chapter 1

WC: 3, 453

Season 1, Episode 2: The Lost City of Atlantis

Previously on Guardian in Jim's POV "The Nightmares have emerged once more." Pabbie told everyone.

"GREAT GRONKA MORKA!!" Blinky exclaimed.

"And they attend to assimilate an army. They already have the witch Gothel, the bogeyman Pitch Black, the dragon tamer Drago Bludvist with his mother of dragons Red Death, the prince Hans of Southern Isles and Duke of Weselton, the cursed bear Mor'du, the Pirate "Captain Hook" Killian James, and the Boggan Mandrake. And I have a list of who they want. From my visions. But only two people I wish to say it to: Vendel and... James Lake Jr. Because she wishes it."

"Who wishes for me to know?" I asked him.

"Starling."

Some people are chosen for this life and have no choice but to accept its transgressions. Others spend their life completely in the dark about this life we lead. Some, like me, choose to live this life. It is a lot of work for anybody. Not just anybody can get into this life and survive its trials and tribulations. But we were born for this. To become guardians. But I'm not a guardian yet. I'm just an apprentice.

|{[INSERT_OPENING_SEQUENCE]}|

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Druidia Order." I announced.

"Did you have to name us after a planet in your favorite Star Wars movie?" asked the raven-haired time-traveller Wilbur Robinson.

"Spaceballs is not a Star Wars movie, Wilbur." Currently undercover spy, Walter Beckett told him.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Did your dad teach you anything about Star Wars?" asked blonde enpath/ hockey-player from Wisconsin, Riley Anderson.

"Only that he hated the sequels, he loves the originals, and respects what the prequels tried to do." Wilbur said.

"Can we please get to the topic at hand please?" I asked everyone.

Everyone in the room grumbled out a yes and we continued with the precedings. Wow. That sounds way too formal for me.

"Well what can we do? We already made allies with the Arendelle trolls via Elsa and Anna. We had Grand Pabbie alert the Trollhunter of the Nightmares." said Ted Wiggins.

"Which means a group of you have to go find the essence stones." Megamind appeared with a plate of, "who wants cookies?"

"Are you growing soft on us, Meg?" Megamind basically growled at Wilbur for the nickname he used.

"I am trying to babysit Gru's oldest daughter and her friends." Megamind told him looking the kid dead in the eye.

"What do you know of the essence stones?" I asked him, ignoring the intense staredown happening between the two makes.

Megamind turned his attention away from Wilbur only for the time-traveller to blow a raspberry at him and Megamind to turn back and glare at him I rolled my eyes. The same old stupid antics. "I know where you can find the essence stone of the ocean."

"If you tell me we have to befriend Poseidon or-."

"It's in Atlantis." Megamind said.

"Or that." I facepalmed. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I have an evil underwater lair in the city of Atlantis." Cue another facepalm from me.

"And why...? You know what? I don't want to know. So how are we getting there?" I asked.

"It's not a matter of how we, but rather how who is getting there." Megamind said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, dude." Hiro said as he walked into the room followed by Lucy Tuchi.

"Some of us will go on the mission while the rest research the rest of the essence stones." Megamind suggested.

"You know... your ideas are normally terrible. But this one is actually a good idea." Wilbur told him.

The alien growled. "Easy now, Megamind. When we heading out? And who is coming along for the ride?"

"You, Rayla, Ezran, Callum, Sisu, Hiccup, Jack, Light Furry, Walter, and Toothless." Megamind told us. "And you will leave tomorrow. After school."

"Alright. Before we do anymore planning, I need pizza." I walked over to where Hiro plopped the pizza on.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL HERE]}| "

I cannot believe he has the audacity for this! He knows we're not on the best of terms, and yet he does this." I sighed.

"I'm sure he has a reason." said Hiro.

"It's Megamind. It's a stupid-ass reason." I told him.

Hiro sighed. "But you miss hanging out with Toby and Jim. And you-."

"Don't even finish that sentence. I know what you were going to say." Hiro gapped at me. "I know what you were going to say. Only three people know it. And one betrayed me."

My phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket and I opened it up to see a text from my grandmother, Margaret. "Is that Marge? What she said?"

"She's wondering about the you-know-what with the you-know-who." I told him. She wants to know about James Lake Jr being the Trollhunter. Grandpa would not be pleased with this anyway. But he's dead. And he doesn't matter.

"You have gym next block right?" I groaned. Of course I forgot. And why of all days did we have to do the Pacer test today!

"And we're doing the pacer test today too!" I would have banged my head on a locker if we weren't coming from History. "Kill me now! Woe is me!"

"Stop being overdramatic. And I'm off my way to Robotics." Hiro said once we got to the hall where we would part ways.

"Don't take over the world of robotics without your team first." I called out to gim.

"Yeah, yeah. Just focus on making chemistry after gym, but preferably during." the smart-ass called back.

I'm gonna kill him one of these days. Just you wait, Hiro Hamada. I grumbled and continued on my way to the ends of the earth. Also known as gym. Because I lack the athletic ability of a worm. My arms are basically noodles before submerged in H20. I got dressed in my PE clothes and walked outside to the bleachers where I plopped myself down on. Gym. The one class I don't have my safety net to catch me. The one block where I feel alone. Completely and helplessly alone.

"Hey, [Y/N]. Mind if we sit here?" asked Toby.

It was just him and Jim. What on Earth are they up to? I scooted some ways away from my spot and patted the spot beside me. Jim took the spot beside me while Toby took the bench in front of us.

"We haven't hung out just the three of us in awhile, huh?" Toby remarked.

"You both seem busy since the semester started. I can't blame you for that one." I told them. The pair shrugged at me, but it was a lying shrug. I would know. I do the same ones. "Anyway, what are we doing for our History Project, Jamie?" I looked over at him.

"I don't know. Wanna brainstorm some ideas after school?" Jim asked me.

"Can't. I have a family thing." Lying to them has gotten harder since I found out. Hopefully they don't catch. But they're idiots. They won't catch on... I hope. "I can come over tomorrow after school if you want."

"That... Th-th-th-that'll be gr-gr-gr-great." What's with the stammer? It's weird. "Oh, don't forget about Pig Zombies on Saturday."

"Don't worry. I have it all set in my calendar. So, what time is the movie?" I asked them.

Toby and Jim shared a look. Oh that is never good. "We don't actually know."

"Then, what are we going to do about Saturday?" I asked them.

"We're more of idea men." Like they're any close to being men. "Creating a plan is someone else's problem." Of course.

"You two haven't changed at all, have you? I'll get to work on that sometime this evening. You guys still have email, righr?" I asked them.

"Who still uses e-mail anymore?" Toby inquired.

"Good point. I'll just have Lucy drive us to the theater anyway." I replied. "So, how are you and Claire going, Jamie?"

"O-o-o-oh, m-m-me and Claire?" stammered Jim. That's strange.

"Yes, you and Claire. You two are dating, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Oh, y-y-yeah. We're g-g-g-good." Hmm. Peculiar. But Jim's always been like this when pertaining to Claire. Nothing suspicious about that.

I hope.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

Jim

"So, you have a study date with [Y/N] tomorrow huh?" Claire teased me while we walked to Blinky's library.

"What-. Wait! You told her!" I exclaimed to Toby who was on my left side.

"Of course, I did. Dude, you've been hopelessly obliviously in love with this girl since she stole your first kiss on the monkey bars when we were nine. And she-."

"She clearly has feelings for you, but she's not gonna act upon them since you know we're fake dating and all that jazz." Claire said.

I sighed. "You're the smart one. Couldn't you have come up with something... um... better?"

"What? Because a wuss like you was going to ask her out if I didn't say we were dating?" Claire asked him, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

I sighed once more. She clearly had a point. And Tobes seemed to catch it too. "He tried to ask her if she wanted to go see Pig Zombie 6 for her sixteenth birthday, but dragged me along with them because he wussed out of calling it a date."

Claire tapped her chin in thought. I do not understand girls. Then, she did the thing where you smack your fist against your hand in an aha! idea moment. Which is what transpired next. "I have a perfect idea for your movie date on Saturday."

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked her.

"I hope not. I'm helping you whether you want me to or not." Yea me! Internal frown.

We made it Blinky's library in which the four arm troll was talking animatedly to Vendell. About Essence Stones? What the fuzz buckets are those?

"Um, what are the Essence Stones?" I piped up.

"The Essence Stones are the only thing that can combat the Oncoming Storm." Vendel explained.

"Which is why we should be looking for them! We already know where one is! The Sea Stone!" Blinky told him.

"I already told you the Starling has this under control. This is her fight. Not ours. We shouldn't-."

"But then why have Pabbie tell us about the resurgence anyways?!" Blinky cut him off. I don't think Blinky has ever interrupted Vendel before. This is a first.

"Because to warn us of an even greater danger, Blinkous!! One that we have to face on our own! As Trolls!" the elder roared.

I never saw a look of fear as intense as the look that crossed Blinky's face when Vendel told him that. A greater danger? Even Aaarrrggghh! and Draal had the same look as Blinky. What did it all mean? Vendel left the library.

"I don't care what the goat says. We're getting the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"And how do we acquire it?" asked Claire.

"Hate Gyre." Aaarrrgghh! cried. Oh.

"And where would we find the Sea Stone?" Toby asked. "It's underwater right? And we can't breathe in water? So is it in an aquarium? Washed up on a beach?"

"I'll tell you where when we get to the Gyre." Claire, Toby, and I shared a look before shrugging our shoulders and following Blinky to the Gyre.

When we got there, we reached the Gyre and hopped in. "So, where are we going?"

"Under the sea. In an underwater palace where there is no water inside located in what you humans refer to as The Bermuda Triangle. Get ready for Atlantis." And before the three of us could protest, Blinky put in the coordinates and we zipped off towards... did he really say Atlantis? And the Bermuda Triangle?

But I didn't have time to question it as we arrived in a palace? And our clothes were soaking wet. But we never submerged in water? You know what? I shouldn't question it. Me and my friends huddled for warmth. It'll be awhile before we're dry. But why isn't- you know what? Never mind. I don't care.

"Okay, so where do we go first?" asked Toby.

"We head for the treasure room. The Jewel of Atlantis is the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"Why are we wet, but you aren't?" asked Claire.

"No clue." Blinky shrugged his shoulders.

The three of us grumbled but followed after Blinky with Aaarrrgghh! and Draal taking the rear. This is going to be a long evening. Our little group trudged, our squeaky footprints giving our location to anyone who would be here. And I think someone was here. Because a familiar ball of silver and blue was charging at us. Not us. Me. Followed by a march larger greenish-blue dragon.

"Hi, Azymondias." I said to the baby dragon when he jumped into my arms.

"I see you humans have already met the Prince. Starling's Zym seems to like you Mr Lake." the green-ish blue dragon said. Um... do dragons normally...

"YOU TALK?!?!" Thanks for that, Tobes.

"Of course, I do. I'm Sisu. Starling sent me after Little Azymondias to make sure he stayed out of trouble." Why aren't Blinky, Aarrrgghh!, and Draal freaking out about there being another dragon? And the elf being here?

"You six, now-seven, looking for the Treasure Room?" asked Sisu.

I shivered as a breeze went by. Why was there a breeze? We're in a dry castle underwater! This is just too weird.

"We were headed that way right now!" Blinky told the dragon.

Azymondias coughed. Or sneezed? I don't know. But he zapped me and I yelped and I'm... dry? Well alot dryer than before. Uh, thank you. Living dryer thay could kill me at any given moment. But you're still cute. So you're forgiven if you do.

"Well I wouldn't go that way! That's where Meg put his evil lair at." Sisu told us.

"Lair?" "Meg?"

"Meg is what the time-traveler calls Megamind. And he placed a lair here when he was going through his 'evil' phase." I did not know Dragons did air quotes.

"Time Traveler? Like the Doctor? Or Loki?" askes Toby.

"Looks like a mix of Matt Smith and Loki as a tween with too much hair gel. Alright, kids follow me." Sisu told us.

Zym appeared on my shoulder, wrapping his small body around on my shoulder and we followed the hopping dragon towards the treasure room. We had reached the treasure room, avoiding all the traps (that was on the ceiling for some strange reason). We arrived there. And Sisu peered inside before letting us enter. Strange.

But I couldn't help peering over Sisu's sboulder "Are you really angry that the Trollhunter keeps unknowingly stealing your pet?" That sounded like... no it can't be.

"Azymondias is not my pet. My pet sounds like I chose to take care of him. The bundle of zappy madness chose me to take care of him. So if anything, I'm his pet." Please tell me that's not who I think it is. But the-I'm guessing- Startouch Elf looks nothing like her. Not one bit. Well maybe except for the nose. And the eyes.

"You make absolutely no sense. And yet you love him anyway." the other voice said. A male with slick-back hair. This must be the time-traveler Wow. Sisu was spot on.

"Kids, easy now. We wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands. Not this close to the Cotillion." A brunette male that appeared to be the oldest of the group. Why does he look so familiar to me?

"I have a question for you, pig snout. Meg said you wouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here? And why are you even here?" the elf asked.

"I stowed away because none of you are smart." the time-traveller said.

"Says the royal dumbass." the female elf sighed. "I'm so young and yet I feel so old." she emphasized. I was half expecting her to do a dramatic fall like they always seem to do in soap operas notthatIwatchsoapoperasinthefirstplacethat'sabsurd.

"I already knew that, dumbass." time-traveler said.

"Go on, Trollhunter." Sisu used her tail to push me toward the elf's group to retrieve the essence stone. "Introduce yourself."

And suddenly I stumbled upon the room making the group's attention turn to me. "Um...hi." Cue the awkward wave. "I'm... James Lake Jr? I'm the... Trollhunter." I held out the Amulet of Merlin. I could practically sense Toby and Claire facepalming at this.

"Starling, I think this one is for you to handle." I now noticed the brunette boy that stood beside the other elf. Is that... Callum Schlott?? Um... I hope if that is him, he doesn't tell [Y/N] about this.

"I am the one they refer to as Starling as you must know. And we don't need you here. To help us." The girl's hand were running up and down a strand of her waist length periwinkle hair. [Y/N] did the same thing when she had long hair. Not the time Jim.

"I think we do. Because the Seastone is missing if you've forgotten." the other elf said. She sounds like Rayla. And sort of looks like her too.

"THE SEASTONE IS GONE!?!?!?" Blinky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately so. Now, one advantage turns out to be a setback." I didn't notice the other brunette who had a black dragon that was acting like a cat by his feet.

"Do you have any leads?" asked Claire as she stepped forward.

"Just a Roman Penny. No clue from where though." Starling told us. "Now, I think it's time you kids return to California. Don'tyouthink."

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

"So Atlantis was a flopp?" I had already told Draal about the whole atlantis situation.

Luckily mom had another night shift at the hospital, so Draal could walk around freely while I made dinner for myself. Elbow Pasta and Meat Sauce it appears to be.

"Yes, it was, Draal." I turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels to find the one I wanted. "At least, I met Starling. She was not what I was expecting."

"Most elves aren't. You humans expect them to be small and cute because of the Claus, but they aren't." Draal told me.

"Actually, I think," I found what I was looking for. The French food competition show the World's Greatest Chef Competiton. "she was the exact opposite of what all of you were saying. Sure she was a tad harsh to us, but I think she didn't want to involve us in the Essence Stones. Like she didn't want anymore added help. I don't know." A knock sounded on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" asked Draal.

"Not that I know. Toby and Claire wouldn't knock. They'll just barge on in." I told him.

And before I got to the door, the door opened to reveal a boy with white hair, incredibly pale skin wearing a blue sweatshirt and brown trousers. "Don't be such a pussy, Hiccup." That was Sisu.

"Yeah, we're only here since Zym wants the trollhunter to be his dragon rider and to train him how to combat magic." white hair said.

"Um... what are you doing at my house?" I asked them as I held my wooden spoon in my hand, ready to strike them if necessary.

"You and Punzie would be great friends, squirt." The platinum blonde ruffled my brown hair to make it messy. My hair now looks like the dragon boy's hair.

"We're here to train you. I'm Hiccup. And this is Jack. Jack Frost." Wait. What? I'm lost. "I live over in Berk Manor. And you have wandered in a den where you cannot get out of." the brunnette introduced.

"Which is why Starling didn't want you to get involved. By trying to help us with the Seastone, you and your friends have put a target on your back. Starling didn't want that. But now we have to help you. To train you. Hiccup here is a Dragon Rider. And even though Azymondias isn't big enough to be ridden. He will be. I suspect sooner than you think, so he's going to train you to ride him. And I and many others are going come here to help you train against magic. Since the people who will come after you to kill you will have magic." Jack Frost told me. Now I'm really lost.

"So let's begin."

@trollhuntersfanatic

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #trollhunters x reader #onward trollspies #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the futuristic four #x-villains #miraculous ladybug x tales of arcadia #jim lake x reader #jim #jim lake #jim x reader #jim lake jr x reader #tales of arcadia x reader

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chowtrolls · 3 years ago

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I never talked abt Jamison but i love him so much….he fuckin died, right? Lost his arm, died, nearly killed his kid, big ole accident. And Soot- who is a multidimensional goddess of birth and death btw- was like “hey if you do my bidding, ill revive you” and he said YES DUH? So she did. Her bidding was literally like “find this cat, and kill people for me.”

So whatever. Except Shadow was literally living in his house, like Shadow was his fucking pet. Eventually Soot finds out and is like UM HEY? So boom, woe demon be upon you to observe. The thing w Soot’s like “demons” is they’re feeding off your biggest insecurity and fears. Jamison…doesnt fucking care?? Like this lil bitch in his head is now like “boohooo your husband divorced you!! your son hates you!! youll never be a doctor!! youre all alone and miserable!!!!” And Jamie goes “dont forget my wife disappeared under mysterious circumstances. can you pass the salt.”

Eventually Jamison gets annoyed and he tricks the demon into losing a bet and dying by facing his insecurities. Aka he fucking reached out to his ex-husband. Who was like, dude idc it was years ago, youve changed. Can you pay child support now. But Jamison KNEW Grey would be like that- the demon DIDNT. The demon bet that Grey would hate him because the demon knew everything about their divorce and knew how much Grey HAD hated Jamison. The demon DIDNT know that David, their son, had starter talking to Grey about what happened, and also didnt know that Grey doesn’t hold grudges

And Jamison never cared about killing people because he was already lowkey doing it at his job anyways, he just got to reap the benefits of it now :) AND he got to live to see his son become famous and meet his granddaughter :)

#chow.txt #jamison #not fantrolls #long ish post #hehe sorry im having oc brain!!#jamison my beloved….ugh i love him…

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pollackpatrol · 4 years ago

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if you’re here because of this post you can make this faster and easier for the both of us and just send me money

anyways. hi im jamie you wanna read my carrd and follow me soo bad

(don’t add images to my posts without image descriptions. also, i‘m a minor!)

[ID: the “woe / plague be upon ye” meme, edited to say “woe / my chemical romance be upon ye”. The man in the meme has also been edited to have red eyeshadow and black X’s over his eyes. end ID.]

credit to @theultravs for the meme! 💚💖

#jg og #pinned post

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scapegrace74-blog · 5 years ago

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The Beginning

A/N Here’s the latest fic from the Metric universe. I woke up this morning thinking about how Metric Jamie and Claire might have met. A word of warning: it definitely isn’t a meet-cute. Previous ficlets are available on my AO3 page.

August 12, 2012, The Pride of Spitalfields, London, England

The pub throbbed with the revelry of dozens of thirsty patrons. Jamie grinned at the irony that their arrival had probably thrust the establishment past its occupancy load. He’d just finished a ten hour shift, he was thirsty, and he wouldn’t be filing a fire code complaint anytime soon.

As the rookie at his station, Jamie drew all the short straws. He made the coffee at the start of each shift. He climbed the tower with heavy wet hoses draped over his shoulders. He was on call every night of the past seventeen, as London swelled to bursting with Olympic athletes and spectators. And now that the Games were over, so was his enforced prohibition, but he was still responsible for getting his coworkers their chosen drinks first.

Jamie was blessed with an uncomplaining disposition that made these petty hardships easy to bear, but after three trips between the bar and their overflowing table, having his elbows jostled, ale spilled on his shoes, and, on one notable occasion, his rump squeezed a lewd hand in the heaving crowd, he was more than ready for his long-awaited drink.

“Waddaya mean ye’re out of lager?!”

“Sorry, mate. We’re inside the security zone, so our distributor can’t get ‘is lorry in. I jus’ pulled my last pint for this young lady here.”

Following the barman’s casual hand gesture, Jamie observed the woman on the barstool next to him. She was turned away, chatting with whoever sat beside her, so his first impression was of riotous dark curls, slim shoulders, colt-like legs wrapped in a jean mini-skirt, and an untouched pint of Tennent’s sitting on the bar by her elbow.

He tapped her shoulder. No response. Tapped again, and added a loud but polite “Pardon me,” in order to be heard over the crowd. A pale hand lifted in dismissal was the only indication she had heard him. He was starting to get pissed off, but short of grabbing the beer and making a run for it (both beneath his dignity and having a low degree of probable success, given the close confines of the bar), he was out of options.

Just as he was about to order a whisky instead, the woman finally turned in his direction, and the cacophony all around blurred to nothing. A delicate face, transformed into something fierce by the intensity of her gaze. She was looking imperiously down her nose at him, and it brought to mind a childhood visit to the Edinburgh Zoo; the lioness gazing out of her enclosure with piercing golden eyes.

“Wot?” the lioness demanded, and he dropped back into his surroundings.

“Are ye gonna drink that pint, lass?”

“I beg your pardon?” He had never before considered himself a meek man, but she was putting that hypothesis to the test.

“Yer lager. I asked if ye planned tae drink it. I’d like tae buy it from ye, if no’.”

She spun her knees in his direction, ignoring her companion entirely to focus on him. She wobbled a tiny bit on her stool, and he got the impression she wasn’t entirely sober.

“Let me get this straight,” she pronounced with a faint slur that bordered on a lisp. “You want to know whether I intend to drink my beer? Is that it?”

He nodded, tongue-tied for once.

“For what purpose do you think I purchased it, if not to ingest it?”

He couldn’t tell if she was secretly laughing at him, or furious. He was accustomed to using his dashing good looks (an ex-girlfriend’s turn-of-phrase) and Scottish charm to talk his way into or out of any situation, so her prickly demeanour posed a unique challenge.

“I dinna mean tae infer ye’d only bought a pint for decoration, lass. Only, tis the last lager in the whole place, and I reckon I need it more than ye.”

He recognized his error as soon as the words left his mouth. This was not a woman who took kindly to being told what she did and did not need.

Instead on pouncing on him, she flashed a feline grin and proposed terms for their stand-off.

“That’s an interesting propo-prop-proposition, lad. That you need this pint more than I do. Here’s what we’re going to do. My friend... Geil, get over here... is famously impartial. Now you, sir, are going to plead your case as to why you deserve this pint. I will do the same, and to the victor go the spoils, as it were. Are we agreed?”

He felt very much like a mouse being toyed with by a particularly malevolent cat, but his inherent competitiveness refused to let him back down at this juncture. He sensed he was about to be bested at his own game, but he was looking forward to finding out exactly how.

“Aye, agreed. Ladies first, if ye please.”

“Oh, I bloody well think not. This all started with you coveting my beer. You first.”

Jamie grinned and ran his hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. From across the bar, he could see his mates watching his exchange with this vexing woman, their laughter muffled by the din.

“Aye. Alright. Weel, I’m a firefighter, ken? A probie in my first six months o’ service. My uncle Dougal is my captain, but tae show there’s no favourtism, he gives me all the shitty tasks, the worst shifts. Which means I’ve been on call since the Games began, cooped up inside w’out a drop tae drink an’ a flatmate who snores like a congested hippo, while the entire world ran riot o’side my window.”

He paused here to see if his tale of woe was having any effect, but the lioness merely raised a finely arched eyebrow, as if to say ‘is that all you’ve got?’ He dug his heels in for the long ride.

“An’ when I did get a call-out, twas always some daft drunkard who forgot his beans on the hob watchin’ Mo Farah’s race or somesuch.”

Nary a muscle moved on her face.

“An’ I stubbed my toe somethin’ fierce the o’er night when my flatmate...”

“The congested hippo?” she clarified.

“Aye, the congested hippo. The bastard dragged our couch against one wall sae he could, and I quote, do justice tae Bradley Wiggins. I walked inta it on my way tae take a piss.”

He might have been imagining things, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“An’ when I was a lad, my big sister convinced me twas a fairie livin’ in my clothes press tha’ stole my socks, an’ since then I canna grab my trousers wi’out crossing my fingers first.”

He wrapped up with his most winning smile, the one usually reserved for his mam and first dates. His adversary observed him dispassionately, but at least her friend, the purported judge of his performance, looked suitably amused.

“That’s it, then? A three week dry spell, a boorish flatmate, and lasting childhood gullibility?”

“Thas’ about it, aye,” he admitted. He supposed, if nothing else, it spoke well to his life thus far that he hadn’t been able to surface any more sympathy-worthy incidents.

The woman raised the controversial pint, and for a fool-hardy moment he thought she was going to hand it to him. Instead, she raised it in mock salute.

“I’m deploying to Afghanistan in the morning,” she said, and took a long drink, her leonine eyes never leaving his over the rim of the glass.

Several hours and a couple whiskies later, Jamie stepped out onto the pavement and breathed the relatively cool midnight air. His mates had a good laugh at his expense when he’d returned to their table empty-handed, with neither lager nor the lass’ number.

The door behind him opened, and the woman in question staggered outside, leaning heavily on her much-shorter friend.

“If it’s not the lad who believes in fairies!” she exclaimed upon noticing him. Of all the details for her to remember. He tipped an imaginary cap in their direction.

“An’ how was yer lager, milady?”

“Dee-licious,” she proclaimed before stumbling sideways and nearly pulling her friend down in a heap with her.

“Can I help ye, ladies? Per’aps call ye both a taxi?” he suggested, worried about their ability to navigate home without coming to ruin.

“T’won’t be necessary, lad,” the shorter, red-haired one said. He realized belatedly she was Scottish as well. “We live jus’ down the way. Although... I could use yer brawn to get ‘er up the stairwell, if ye wouldna mind.”

The brown-haired one with the uncanny eyes started to sing to herself.

“I’m so happy I could diiiiiiiiiiiiiiie...”

“Is she always this macabre?” he asked her friend, draping a slack arm over his shoulder and trying to steer her slight weight in the right direction.

“Wouldna ye be, in ‘er shoes?”

“She’s really a soldier, then?” he asked, mystified by this singular creature.

“Army nurse,” her friend clarified, and he found himself relieved. At least she wouldn’t see active duty. Although why he should care was beyond him.

“I canna imagine...” he said, mostly to himself.

“Weel, one man’s combat zone is another woman’s escape route, ye ken?”

He didn’t, but it wasn’t any of his business, and they had already arrived at the door of their building. After a great deal of maneuvering and cursing during which their burden remained only marginally conscious, they finally got her settled in bed with a towel, a basin, a tall glass of water and three paracetamol. Jamie got only a vague impression of her room, but it was surprisingly feminine with wispy drapes and an elaborate print of an ancient city on one wall. He didn’t know what he had been expecting. Camouflage linens, perhaps?

“Thank ye sae much for lending a ‘and, lad,” the redhead spoke as he returned to the tiny living area. “Ach, I dinna even think tae ask yer name!”

“Jamie. Jamie Fraser. An’ twas nae bother. Except fer the lager. Tha’ was blatant cruelty,” he jested.

“Ye didna stand a chance, but ye acquitted yerself admirably, Jamie. Can I offer ye a beer now, as a consolation prize?”

She was looking at him in the particular way that women did, when what they said they wanted wasn’t what they were asking for at all. He considered the situation. It was just past midnight, and he was off the next day. His flat had nothing to recommend except Rupert snoring and passing gas. Her roommate wouldn’t be waking anytime soon. And while she was no lioness, her friend was quite pretty, in her own elfin way.

“Whas’ yer name, lass?” he asked as she handed him a cold bottle.

“Geillis. Geillis Duncan.”

***

January 1, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

His eyes refused to open, so he relied on his other senses to understand this new world. There was heat so intense that it froze. Mechanical bleating. The smell of antiseptic and stench of vomit. An alien rasp that, after countless repetitions, he realized was his breath.

“I need a main line for electrolytes, right now!” He thought he recognized the voice. The whirlpool of sensations was making him nauseous, so he focused on its familiar pitch and cadence.

“...third degree burns extending across sixty percent of his back... Christ, where is that fucking trauma resident?”

A creeping chill started near his elbow and sent icy needles towards his heart. He wanted to panic, but couldn’t draw air into his lungs to scream. The mechanical bleating grew violent.

“It’s alright,” the voice soothed. “Here, take a deep breath.” A pressure around his nose and jaw, followed by the blessed rush of oxygen into his lungs. The hammering of his heart slowed slightly.

“That’s it, soldier. Deep breaths. Can you open your eyes?”

He fought against the heavy weight that seemed to press on him from every angle. The overhead lights were blinding, and he squinted against tears. A blurry smudge hovered above him. Blinking furiously, the smudge resolved into dark curly hair pulled back from a face half-covered in blue surgical garb. Between the horizon of the mask and the heaven of her curls shone the most intense pair of leonine eyes he’d ever seen.

His last conscious thought was that he was happy she made it back safely.

#my writing #outlander

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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years ago

Note

Are we going to get more flood my mornings?

FMM: Of Small Kangaroos

This story takes place in an AU where Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

FMM Master List

Previously: Found

**Backtracking timewise just a bit on this one! The woes of getting acclimated to your own AU timeline again ;)**

—-

November, 1952

“Can’t you stay home this morning?” she wheedled, wiping maple syrup from Ian’s chin. Christ, how sweet she looked in her Turtle’s-Neck sweater, the cabled one the same color as her skin. Not even six o’clock—bairns make early risers of all, aye?—and still her eyes were bright and sharp. “It’s Sunday and cold as b…all-get-out.”

“I wish I could.” He’d like nothing better than to spend a few stolen hours abed with her while the children napped away the afternoon. “But I canna,” he said, the last piece of toast in his mouth as he began clearing up the dishes. “Promised Hank I would go in and cover for h—”

“DA, Mummy SAID, it’s—”

“Don’t *interrupt*, Bree,” they chanted with one well-worn voice.

Brianna sighed with even greater exasperation and piled every remaining piece of bacon onto her plate with a grumble that sounded a great deal like. “…interruptin’ me….”

“Brianna Ellen.” Claire’s head tilted, hawk’s eye fixed with deadly precision. “Attitude.”

“S’too cold out there, Daddy,” the lass piped at once with saccharine primness that dared anyone to question its sincerity.

“Aye, ‘tis cold,” he agreed, sharing a secret, rueful glance with Claire, “and that means the horses will be, too.” He laid a freshly-scrubbed plate onto the rack and took up the next. “Shall ye come along wi’ me to the barn, then, cub?”

“Me?”

“ME!” Ian parroted, slithering down from his seat.

“Aye, you, and yer Mam, and Ian? Make a wee outing of it?”

“No-thanks,” came the verdict of the bacon-cruncher. “Dinna wanna put my coat on.”

“Ye lazy wee baggage!” He cast over his shoulder for her and spied Claire first, hiding behind her mug. “No!…Et tu, mo nighean donn?”

“It’s awfully warm and cozy indoors….” Her guilty grin gave way to a yawn, then a stretch. “And I really do need to stay,” she said, bringing her stocking-feet up onto the seat and hugging her knees, “got to make a dent in these applications today.”

This last rose in crescendo, still barely heard over the din of:

“CAN I–”

“Me-me-meee!!!”

“CAN I BE ‘SCUUUSED!?”

“Verra well,” he sighed at Claire with a wink, Bree seizing upon this as permission and tearing out of the kitchen while Jamie dried his hands. “I suppose I’ll don my coat and set off all alone into the frigid—”

“Meeeeee!!”

At last, he took notice of the smallest Fraser, who had been wrapped around his leg. “Why, hallo, YOU.”

“Go, too?” he asked excitedly in Gaelic, giving a little bounce for emphasis. “Me, too?”

He took a moment to simply marvel. The boy didn’t always choose to speak, but when he did, it never failed to surprise Jamie how much he truly understood of the action swirling about over his head. And to reply to English with Gaelic, forbye! Perhaps it shouldn’t be shocking, seeing as how Ian had been hearing it spoken since birth, but Lord, his pronunciation was near perfect as he begged, “Go, too, Daddy?”

“Ye want to come wi’ Da to see the horses, jo?” (in English, for Claire’s sake).

Ian nodded once and beamed, raising his hands expectantly and switching languages without missing a beat. “Go-’IF!”

Jamie gripped Ian’s wrists and let the lad climb up his front like a mountaineer, grinning as broadly as he. “Go we shall, then!”

“But, shouldn’t–? Jesus H. Christ, I can’t believe I’m asking this, with the chance at a 50% less chaotic day on offer,” Claire laughed, coming to stand with them and rumple Ian’s hair, “but won’t he be in your way?”

“This wee face?” he said, kissing it. “Nay, never.”

—-

It might well be, in actual fact, Jamie admitted as he set the pair off them off for Fernacre. A child of sixteen months was never a simple matter, even as one as generally agreeable as Ian, but having the lad with him was well worth a bit of disruption here and there.

It wasn’t simply Ian’s acuity that had startled him earlier, but that the lad had asked to go with Da. With him.

His heart melted afresh as he thought on it, as he felt Ian’s head, warm and heavy against his hip.

Naturally, the singular bond with Claire had stayed strong, even past the time he was weaned. Many was the occasion that Ian would suddenly turn from Jamie and wail for her, entirely inconsolable until he might cry against her shoulder and be soothed by her hands, her voice.

There was nothing malicious in the preference, of course. Brianna was a never-ceasing demander of energies and was always happy to fill any vacancy left by her brother. Besides, Jamie could see the wee one’s point, for he likewise had a very strong desire to be held by Claire at all times.

Even so, being singled out himself by the lad was yet new enough that it sent a warm, silly thrill through his chest each time, almost like being a schoolboy again: happily heartsick over his attentions being returned.

“And if it’s no’ being in love,” he murmured as he slowed the car, palm atop the boy’s head, “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“We-heer?” Ian exclaimed, coming to life and nearly toppling over as he tried to stand on the seat mid-parking. ‘We-heer?”

Scooping him up with one arm, Jamie stepped out into the chill. “Aye, here!” He bent to set Ian down, remembering the great bag of diapering supplies, food, and toys in the back seat. “Off ye g—”

“Nooooo!” The boy turned violently legless, twisting impressively to avoid touching the ground.

“Ian, ye–”

“Hoam-me!”

“Do ye no’ want to walk on your own feet like a big boy?” He already kent well the answer.

His brown-haired lad gave an uncanny impression of Claire’s ‘don’t talk nonsense’ face. “HOAM-me.”

A Sucker he was, wi’ no hope for it whatsoever. He chuckled and sighed, hoisting the lad up higher. “Today you win, joey.”

Strange, thinking back now, that he’d gone the first quarter-century of life knowing nothing of Kangaroos.

He’d first learnt the odd word in the days when his appetite for knowledge of the centuries missed had made trips to the library a near-daily event. Australia— what a wonder that place seemed to him! All that vast expanse, filled with such uncanny creatures. A nightmarish beast, this one had looked from the illustration: like a man-sized hare with a great, thick tail, tapering like a lizard’s; eerily man-like in the arms and chest, capable of leaping thirty feet in one bound before kicking one’s teeth in.

Still, a softer recollection had come straightaway to mind later, when Claire began to carry Ian about the house in a sling on her front. Jenny, too, had worn her bairns, wrapped in a shawl on her back, yet there was something all the more intimate in seeing mother and child nestled chest-to-chest amid the mundane tasks of the day; seeing Claire wrap her arms around him with utter tenderness, whispering soft love; the babe dozing as she worked and moved about, warm and safe in the comfort of her heartbeat, just as he had been in the womb.

Both the nickname and the love of being cuddled had stuck, and it was only sight of the horses of Barn A that coaxed Jamie’s little marsupial down. True-to-form, he hit the stable floor with a hop.

Jamie made quick inspection of his four-footed charges. No need for mucking out, God be praised; just feeding, watering, and a bit of love for each. He began making his way down the first aisle of eight, Ian toddling along to watch, full of quiet wonder.

It had been some time since he’d gotten to be alone–mostly alone– with the horses. Nearly all his working days were spent in the paddocks, training the young or new ones; coaching the riders on how they might better work in harmony with the being beneath them. He loved it, took such pride and joy in witnessing the excitement of human and beast alike as they improved, as they bonded.

Yet it brought his heart a different sort of joy, the quieter sort, to be in the stables on a still morning such as this, gentle mist seeming to soften the hard edges of world and word.

They soon reached the last stall on the eastern side. “How goes it, a nighean?” he crooned to Cornflower, who knocked her snout into his shoulder in companionable greeting.

“Pat him?” Ian asked in the same language, honey-eyes glowing.

“Aye, ye can pat *her.*”

Lifted high, Ian gingerly reached out to touch the mighty neck.

“Morning, Jamie!”

“The same to you!”

He turned them to face Tom, who was coming through the door with two steaming cups.“HEY! Look who came to help his Papa out! Jeez, Jamie, when did he get so darn tall?”

“Tis our constant question, as well!” He set Ian atop a stack of hay bales by Corny’s door and gratefully reached to take the mug.

Tom winked at Ian. “How you doing today, little man?”

“Hiii,” was all Ian said before covering his face so nothing save grinning eyes showed between hat and mittens.

God bless Tom Harper, Jamie prayed sincerely as they sipped and chatted, discussing business, the children, all the usual things. Of all the people in his new life, it was Tom that minded him most of Murtagh: always near, always willing, always irreverant, yet always looking after ye from afar. It wasn’t often he thought of it: but knowing that Tom was only ever a call away should emergency strike or counsel be needed of one with more years of experience in the world was an immense comfort, more than Jamie could ever truly express to the man.

A jubilant shriek erupted from behind them.

Ian had descended the hay bales and was now right underneath Cornflower’s stall, head thrown back, both hands reaching up to touch–

“IAN, STO–”

“Mmmm-wah!” Ian kissed the fuzzy snout, right in the spot between the heaving nostrils. He bounced on his heels, chirped ‘Bye!!’ to her in Gaelic, then ran toward the next stall.

Jamie crossed the space in two leaps to yank him backward….but of all the wonders, Hector was already at the front of the stall in response to Ian’s command.

“What’d he say??” Tom whispered.

“He said, ‘Come here.’”

“Whoa….”

The horse had lowered his neck, inspecting Ian judiciously. Jamie kept both hands around the boy’s ribs, half-crouched in readiness to rip him away at the slightest sign of danger….but as though by magic, Hector nudged his snout deliberately into Ian’s outstretched hands with a tiny nicker, getting an enchanting giggle and kiss in return.

“Christ in Heaven…..”

Tom hooted. “I. will. be. DAMNED!!”

Jamie discovered both that his mouth had fallen open and that his son was already in front of the next stall, charming his mark. He and Tom stayed close, heart still thudding in terror of the inevitable crushed finger or nip on the face, but no…. one by one, each horse willingly lowered their nose for a kiss.

It wasn’t just heedless affection young Ian radiated: it was instinct, too. For, when Bard put back his ears and snorted, the lad took a tidy step backward, not offended in the slightest. He only gave the brute a cheery wave and moved on to find his next sweetheart.

“Well done, a bhalaich!” he laughed, giving the lad a squeeze.

“Fanks!” Ian wriggled out without a backward glance, intent on his mission.

Tom groaned as he settled onto a bench, beckoning Jamie to do the same. “So little Ian takes to horses a bit more naturally than Brianna, huh?”

“Aye…” Jamie exhaled heavily, allowing himself to sit and relax. “He’s got a way about him.”

Tom resumed sipping his coffee (Jamie’s somewhere on the floor), watching Ian and chuckling. “You do crank out some damned cute kiddos, Jamie.”

“I do have a damned cute wife.”

They laughed and Jamie’s mind wandered, even as they continued to chat, even as he kept Ian in the corner of his vision.

Strange, no? How bairns can be so similar in some ways and yet so different in others. Bree, with her warrior spirit, indomitable, was nearly as frightened of horses now as the first time he’d brought her here. This morning she had blamed the coat and the cold, but Jamie knew it was more to do with the great stomping hooves and enormous teeth. Never would she admit fear, of course. She would fluster and put on that wee glower he loved so well, but beneath it, the lass was petrified.

Contrast this with Ian, for all he might be the more quiet and cautious in life as a whole, who showed no fear whatsoever here in the stable. True, he had seen horses before, even ridden one on Jamie’s lap, so there was no factor of shock as there had been with Bree. Still… Strength and courage manifests to each of us in our own way. A comforting thought, in this ever-changing world, no? Unlike Jenny and Ian, he had not one clue how his children might spend their lives once grown, so many paths being available to them. It weighed heavily on him some days– but if they each find their strength, wheresoever it might lie, then surely they shall find their own prosperous path, as well….

Sounds of human and equine unease sent his head whipping round. Merlin, one of the younger horses of this bunch, was standing in the window with no apparent intent to lower his head. Ian was grunting, jumping up and down to get the laddie’s attention with a persistent, “Hiii? HIIIII???” on repeat.

“He may no’ wish to talk just now, Ian.”

The boy whirled eagerly and pointed back up over his shoulder. “Up, Da?” Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted over, eyes bright with urgency. “Da, Up! Up, ‘kay?”

“I think you’d better pick him up, Jamie, before he blows a gasket,” groaned Tom as he stood, heading toward to door to continue his day.

“Take it easy, Tom,” he called.

“You do the same!”

“Daaaaa, UPPP???“

He heard Tom’s infectious laugh vanish into the distance.

–

“Easy now,” he murmured to the horse in Gaelic as they approached, reaching out his free hand to carefully rub the long, white neck. Merlin blew out through his nostrils. “Aye, I ken, your wizardship, ‘tis a bit unconventional, but the wee thing just wants to say hello, aye? Can ye find it in your heart?”

“No scary,” Ian promised.

With sudden inspiration, Jamie rifled in his coat pocket and held out the contents to the wary brute. “And what say ye now, friend?”

Merlin held back a moment for dignity, then descended upon his treat.

“W’ ‘is ‘it?” demanded Ian, back to English in his curiosity.

“Give me your hand—“ Jamie pulled the mitten off with his teeth. “Cup your fingers like a wee bowl, aye?”

Ian peered into his palm.“…..’Is ‘at, Daddy?”

“'Tis a sugar cube. Shall we see if he’d like some more?”

Ian’s eyes lit up and he swiveled around toward the horse so suddenly he dropped the cube. Once resupplied, he held his arm out at full length, bellowing, “Hiiiii!”

Ian squealed in delight as the huge lips and teeth explored his hand. “Mooorr-Da!”

Many, many sugar cubes later, Jamie crouched to set Ian on his feet, but the lad flung his arms about Jamie’s neck with an insistent “Nnnhhhh!”

“Christ, you’re truly naught but a barnacle wi’ legs!” Jamie gave up, kissing the boy’s capped head. “If I ever thought your sister was a cuddly sort, there was no fathoming what was to come, wee jo.”

“Moor-coops?” Ian asked, popping up to search Jamie’s face.

Jamie checked his pocket, coming up with one last sugar cube. Ian didn’t miss a beat. He took it between his fingers, said ‘Heer-Da,’ and pressed it firmly against Jamie’s lips.

“You’re a sweet one, a chuisle,” Jamie said, crunching the sugar and kissing the hand. “And you’re lucky the horses didna chomp all your wee fingers off—!!”

Ian squealed as Jamie made play of gobbling them up, his little belly shaking with giggles so deep he began turning red.

“Allllllright, lad,” Jamie soothed after a time, before the lad exploded, “we’d best be going.”

“Go home?”

“Nay, no’ until later. We have three more barns to check, yet. Let’s hope ye have enough kisses left in ye.”

He did.

#Anonymous #Flood my mornings #FMM Chapter 73 #;mod Bonnie

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