#i am so terribly sad at the state the cottage is in these days since it was just left to rot since like 1998 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 20

Chapter Title: “With a Blade of Grass”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 13,832 (the most carried away I’ve ever gotten)

Warnings: VERY Loki/Eva-centric, some angst, Loki’s usual self-loathe, adult content (not “explicit” per se), so. much. fluff.

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Eva and Loki experience a night of freedom together and rediscover each other.

A/N: I was too excited and had to share this new chapter ASAP. This is my favorite chapter I’ve written...ever. Once again, thank you all so, so, so much, and I hope you enjoy reading this installment as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes @jillilama-blog (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

Ephinea needed no convincing to let Loki and I out of the cell for the night. She understood that I would, under no circumstances, let him out of my sight and allow him to run off, and I trusted Loki not to betray me again. He deserved freedom and the opportunity to grow, and he received none of that in the dungeons. The thing Loki and I needed most was privacy. I wanted to talk to him, to pick him apart once more, and I wanted him to hold me like he used to. Seeing him, feeling him, holding him, breathed life back into me that night. It would make it even harder to leave, but it was also making it more appealing to return once Tony and I were finished with the Mandarin.

Loki and I ran through the forest hand-in-hand, making our way to the tree we fell in love beneath. We celebrated so many things under the watchful gaze of the essence of life that emanated from that wondrous part of Asgard’s natural world. It was always our typical meeting spot, too. I’d often find him waiting there for me in the morning. He’d be propped up against the trunk, scribbling a cacophony of words into a journal. It was the one thing that was tangible proof of his incredible mind. Words filled with love, anger, sadness, joy, and loneliness filled the pages of his journals, but they were never words he kept from me in all our time together.

When we reached the tree, hundreds of memories flooded my mind, and based on the look in his eyes, I knew that the same memories arose for him as well. The tree had become our meeting place shortly into our love affair. We were still young when Loki and I spoke of running away together and going to Midgard to wed and spend the rest of our lives among the Midgardians. Odin never seemed fond of our relationship, and we tried to keep it as far away from the palace as possible at first. We never showed any affection in front of Odin, but the longer we were with each other, the more comfortable we became with moving our love closer to the palace. First, we would spend evenings in the garden, and that blossomed into walks around the palace halls, my arm draped delicately through Loki’s. Then, we would spend nights in Loki’s chambers.

The first night felt strange just because Loki had always spent the night in the cottage with me. My father considered him family and even left the torch lit for Loki, something he continued even after we had parted ways. My father loved Loki, and he loved how happy I was when I was with him. He respected my wishes to spend my life with the trickster, and he supported us in our relationship. He kept our love a secret until we couldn’t keep it hidden. Odin’s clear distaste for our love was what led Loki to bring up the option of running away together. Even though he was aware of his duties as a potential future ruler of Asgard, he was willing to throw it all away if it meant spending the rest of our lives together. The plan to run away was one of many, but it never pursued further than us meeting at the tree in the night and talking ourselves out of it.

We both had personal duties, and we had our families. Loki didn’t want to think of leaving Thor or Frigga because they were two of his best friends-his family. He also didn’t want to lose the connection he had to my father or Hjalmar. Hjalmar and Loki had been fairly close during our childhood, and I could only imagine how deeply my brother’s death had affected my love. I grasped his hand, successfully pulling his gaze away from the tree until his eyes locked with mine, “sit with me, hold me, exist with me,” I pleaded, wanting him to be as present with me as he possibly could. Loki nodded his head, lowering himself onto the ground, and leaning his back against the trunk of our tree.

His eyes stayed locked with mine as I took my place beside him. The gaze was the same as it was before we parted ways. He still looked at me as if I was the only woman in the world, like the very breath from within him was taken away by the mere sight of me. A warmth overcame my cheeks, and I attempted to hide it, turning my gaze away from him as I lowered myself onto the ground at his side. His right arm snaked around me and pulled me closer while his left hand reached up between us and grasped my chin. He tilted my head up until our eyes met once more, and a grin spread across his lips, “don’t hide yourself from me, my love, for you are more beautiful than the stars in the night sky. I don’t deserve to look upon them, but if I am given that great honor, it would be a terrible shame to miss even a second of their glory. I beg of you...do not rob me of such a miraculous sight,” he whispered against my lips, my heart flipping with each word he uttered, symbols of a love I was almost certain had been lost.

His eyes were familiar again, filled with love, adoration, wonder, and determination. My right hand reached between us as a smile overtook my lips, and I pressed my palm to his cheek, “if it is your wish for me to not hide myself from you, I will respect that. However, I wish the same from you,” I confessed, stroking his cheek with my fingers. He nodded his head, agreeing to the terms. There was one question that had been lingering on my mind since the day Loki left me in the garden, and, though I had some answers from Thor, I still needed to hear what Loki had to say. I cleared my throat, gazing down at our hands. I lifted them and pressed my lips to the back of his hand, lingering there for a moment as the feel of his warmth spread through me. When I finally pulled away, I built up the courage to speak, “the day we were in the garden, you left to talk to your father, and the next conversation we had was...the last conversation we had, really. What happened?”

Loki sighed, his eyes disconnecting with mine and turning into the darkness of the forest. The only light came from the stars above us, reaching down through the forest canopy and falling upon our skin. His eyes darkened with sadness, the same despair I saw that day, but this was different. He wasn’t hiding his pain under the facade of anger and rage. Instead, he was letting me see his grief. He was reliving every second of that day, and I knew how hard it must’ve been for him. Part of me wished I hadn’t asked, blamed myself for this grief, but I needed to know what happened in order for us to move forward. There were things we no longer knew about each other, and that was strange for us. He let out a long breath before turning his eyes back to me, ready to tell me, “I spoke to my father about you,” he murmured, his voice trembling.

I knew he was going to continue explaining the past to me, so I remained silent, giving him the time he needed to gather himself. Tears rose to his eyes as he thought of the day. Just as he always did, he refused to hide his pain from me. A stray tear fell before he swallowed back his emotions and continued, “I had been begging my father for an hour of his time for some time, asking him to allow me the time to speak candidly to him without distractions. He never found time until that day when we were in the garden, and I…” his voice trailed off as the emotions began to overcome him once more, “let me show you,” he insisted, closing his eyes and grasping my hand even tighter than before. I closed my eyes with him and found his mind, a place I knew as my home.

I stood in Odin’s war room, a place I had been countless times before. However, usually when the war room was being used, there was a larger group of people stood around the table. In that instance, the large room was inhabited only by Odin and a younger Loki. His hair was still long, falling slightly below his broad shoulders. That night, he would cut it, and with it, he cut away the final shred of us. I glanced over to my side to see the present day Loki looking on to the scene, clearly disturbed and upset by what was about to play out. I reached between us and grasped his hand, anchoring him once more, wordlessly reminding him that I was right there with him, that this was in the past. His eyes met mine, and he gave me a nod of appreciation, feigning a moment of happiness for my sake. I could see right through the smile that couldn’t reach his eyes. He was still in so much pain from this memory, but this was my chance to discover what happened.

The past Loki had a wide smile on his lips, clearly harboring so much joy. It was so familiar, yet so different. When he left me in the garden to speak with Odin, that was the memory he left me with, but when he returned, that memory seemed so distant. His ocean blue eyes were filled with hope as he opened his mouth to speak, “I wish to speak with you about Eva,” he stated simply, knowing that Odin rarely fancied long, verbose spiels.

“What of the girl?” Odin asked, his eyes scanning the way Loki fidgeted with his hands.

Loki swallowed hard, “I come to you to ask for your blessing to ask for her hand in marriage, and I ask that before you give me an answer, you let me explain to you how prepared I am,” he blurted out, clearly excited at the opportunity to speak to Odin about such a monumental moment. My breath hitched in my throat as I heart Loki describe the reasoning behind him being there. While Thor had explained what happened, nothing could’ve prepared me for hearing Loki speak so openly and seriously about marriage. Odin remained silent as Loki continued, “I spoke to everyone she’s close to, and I’ve received permission from each of them. I spoke to Ephinea, Thor, her brother, and her father. They’ve all given me their blessing to ask her to be my wife. Aaldir has already begun sketching out a cottage for just Eva and I, so if it was a problem, we wouldn’t even have to be in the palace. I talked with mother about it, and she had a ring forged specifically for this occasion. Now, all I need is your blessing, and I will ask nothing more from you for my entire life. Even if marrying Eva means I must forfeit any right I have to the throne of Asgard, I would do so gladly,” Loki explained with determination clear in his eyes.

My eyes widened, and tears filled them as I thought of how madly in love he became with the idea of becoming the King of Asgard after we had separated. Thor told me that Loki had become thirsty for power, and it was driving him mad. All of our lives, Loki talked about the peace he would spread throughout Asgard should he become the King, but we both knew that Thor was first if Odin allowed birth succession to matter. At the time, we were unaware that Odin had no real plans to allow Loki to sit on the throne of Asgard, since Loki was continuously groomed for the position of a potential future king. To see how quickly he would give up on that just to live a peaceful-albeit exciting-life with me was astonishing. It showed how truly romantic my love was when it came to me, even when he wasn’t around me.

I glanced over at present-day Loki, whose cheeks were wet with tears. His eyes peeled away from the scene before us to lock with mine, and I saw how distressed he was. The further into the memory we ventured, the worse it became for him. I pulled my hand from his, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, “oh, my love,” I murmured, cradling his face in my hands. He leaned into my touch, a sad smile spreading across thin lips, “to ask you not to feel sorrow at this moment would be like asking the stars to cease their shining, but I ask that you remember that I’m here with you right now. I’m by your side, and nothing that happened in this moment will change that,” I promised, making myself taller on the tips of my toes so that I could press my lips to his cheek.

“And for that, I’m the luckiest man in the universe,” he replied, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling my body flush against his. My head rested against his chest, nuzzling into him right below his chin, which he-in turn-rested against the top of my head, but not before pressing a kiss into my hair. My right arm snaked around his waist while my left hand rested against his chest below my own chin.

We both faced the scene once more as past-Loki continued to speak, “the preparations for any and all outcomes have been made, but I ask that you please consider my offer. Over the past thousand years, we’ve fallen in love with one another, and we’ve even spoken of running away to promise ourselves to each other,” he said, referencing the countless times we spoke of running off to Asgard, Vanaheim, or even Alfheim, a place I frequented for its calm, blissful nature. Wherever Loki and I could be together, that was home. He continued, “Eva and I have lived as husband and wife for centuries upon centuries, but the only thing that would be different is that she would become my wife under Asgardian law. That would be the only change.”

“Loki,” Odin breathed out, and the tone in his voice made it abundantly clear to both past-Loki and myself that he was not on our side. His eye was a mirror into his cynicism. Even though I knew the general direction their conversation would go in, a part of me didn’t want to see the hope die in my lover’s eyes. While it was shocking to see the complete change in him from when he left me to talk to his father and when he returned to push me away, it would be even more difficult to watch as that boyish optimism died away.

Loki reached out in clear distress, and I knew this would only be the beginning of his torture. This was the beginning of the end, and I was getting the answers I so desperately wanted, but at what cost? This only hurt to know how desperate he was to be accepted and supported by his father. Loki scrambled to find words, “Father, please. I come to you as more than just one of the commoners; I come to you as your son, and I’m asking you to allow me to show my love freely to the woman I’m destined to love, the woman I have loved for all my life,” he stressed, his hands trembling once more, so he began fidgeting with them again. It was one of the many quirks I fell in love with. Whenever he got nervous, excited, angry, or overjoyed, his hands would tremble, and he would wring them, trying to fight back the abundance of emotion that crashed into him. I come to you, a man who is more than just your son, a man who is ready to be a husband, a man who is ready to be a father,” he explained, causing my heart to stop completely and my breath to hitch in my throat.

That word caused the tears to begin cascading down my cheeks. The hand that had once been pressed against Loki’s chest flew up to cover my mouth to hold back the inevitable sob that would try to break past my lips. Loki and I talked about our future children several times. Most times, he shied away from speaking at length about it because the topic always brought up his troubles with his father. He was terrified that he wouldn’t be the greatest father to our children, but I knew him better than that. My gaze turned up to meet Loki’s to see that tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, “really?” I asked, my voice trembling as my body quaked in his arms.

He nodded his head, biting his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. When he finally trusted his voice not to betray him, he spoke, “I was more than ready to start a family with you long before I asked my father’s blessing. I knew that the only thing greater than spending my life with you would be to spend my life with you and our own children. I was prepared to start a family from the moment we promised ourselves to one another hundreds of years ago. I was terrified, yes, but I wanted that future with you, and when I spoke to Odin, I was more than ready to take that step,” he explained, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I continued crying, “why does this upset you so deeply, my love?” he asked, his voice as light as a feather to keep from disturbing my heightened emotions.

I shook my head, “I was ready, too,” I whimpered, burying my face into his chest, letting a small cry escape my throat as he held me tightly to him. His hand rubbed small circles into my back as I felt the weight of the world crashing down around me. So much of my life would’ve been different if I had spoken first. So much would’ve changed had I forced him not to leave me in the garden until I found the courage to discuss the future. Lives wouldn’t have been lost, hope wouldn’t have died, and sorrow wouldn’t have plagued my memory for that long.

“You don’t know her the way I do,” Odin boomed, pulling my attention away from what could’ve been and refocused it back on what had transpired. All the while, present day Loki kept a tight grip on me, almost as if he was shielding me from what was to come.

“No! You don’t know her the way I do!” past-Loki cried out, his voice breaking as the tears spilled from his eyes, cascading down his cheeks. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. Loki was prone to what the Midgardians coined as panic attacks. It was something Tony suffered from after New York. While I could always sense Loki’s distress, he always asked me to just hold him through it. He wanted to learn how to handle them, how to push through them without me getting into his head, so I allowed him to suffer through the agonizingly long attacks. All I could do was hold him close to me, reminding him that he was safe as long as we were together. I sensed his anxiety when confronting Odin, “I know her favorite color is blue. When we were younger, she used to tell me that it was because of the color of the sky and the oceans on Midgard, but less than 2 years later, she confessed that it was because she had a deep adoration for the color of my eyes,” he stated, referring to one of our earliest romantic conversations.

“I know that she spends her days in the forest, making friends with the wildlife, speaking and singing to the trees. I know that her favorite novel depends on her mood and often fluctuates between a handful of works from the friends we made on Midgard over the years. Lately, she has fallen back in love with ‘Jane Eyre’, which was written by one of the closest friends she made on Midgard in our time visiting, and before that, it was ‘Romeo and Juliet’, a Shakespearean play,” he said, referencing two of the people we had both grown to know and love on a personal level. Charlotte and William both knew about our “agelessness” and were often intrigued by it. Both of them were partial to us, allowing us to read their works before they were released to the public. They were memories that were sacred to us. Loki continued, “I know that she fights her sleep, especially when she’s with me, and she only stops once I’ve started to drift off. I know that she loves baking, and when she’s upset, she bakes until her home is filled with cakes and pastries. She’ll set pies out to cool on the windowsill, but she rarely notices that they’ve disappeared until later on in the night, realizing that they must’ve been taken by one of the many species of wildlife that inhabit the forest around her home.”

“I know that when she’s angry, her nose gets red, and it spreads to her cheeks like a wildfire. I know that when she’s sad, she likes to look up at the stars and shed her tears under their light. I know that the freckles on her body match perfectly with certain constellations in the night sky; she has the Corona Borealis under her right shoulder blade, the Andromeda constellation on her lower back, the Gemini on her right hip, Lyra on her left leg, Virgo on the calf of her right leg, and Pisces below her heart. I know that she loves the rain, and she can sense it coming before the clouds even form in the sky. I know that when she sings, the wind stops blowing, and the world comes to a stand still just to listen to her beautiful voice,” he remarked, a wonder in his eyes as he listed off every little idiosyncrasy I had. While so many of those things made me feel inadequate, he looked at them as the most fascinating, wondrous parts about me, “I know that life thrives around her wherever she goes. I know that when the first drop of rain falls to the ground, she finds any reason to go outside and dance through the forest. I know that she feels a connection to the world, that they are inexplicably linked. I know that she steals the covers throughout the night, and she’s always embarrassed about it the following morning when she wakes up, rolled into the sheets. I know that when she yawns, she blushes at the same time.”

“I know that when I’m around her, the colors in the world seem more brilliant-more vivid-than any I’d ever seen. I know that she wants at least three children, and when I ask her what she wants them to be, her answer is always: healthy. She knows what I mean, but that’s her biggest concern is the health and well-being of our future children. I know that if we have a daughter, she loves the name Aurora because it means “dawn,” and Eva likes the symbolism of the birth of a new day. I know that if we have a son, she loves the name Nova because it means “new,” and it has connections to the stars that we fell in love beneath. I know that she would make the most amazing mother to our future children, and with her by my side, I think I could be a good father,” he said, causing a pang of grief hit my heart. He had always spoken so openly about being afraid to start a family because of his perceived inability to be a good father, but to see him speak with a confidence like that made my heart swell with joy, but it also broke, “I know that she loves me without reason, fear, or doubt-without end-and I know that I want to be with her for the rest of my life. Even if you refuse me this offer, it won’t change my feelings for her. Nothing will,” he promised.

Tears streamed freely down my cheeks, and I didn’t hinder them. My love professed so much to me in that one monologue. His words were moving and tore a hole through my heart. This was the man I had missed for so long, the man I tried to get back, “you don’t know the darkness that resides deep within her, a darkness that you could help bring out!” Odin barked out at him, becoming more and more impatient with Loki’s insistence that we belonged together. All I wanted was to somehow step in and change the course of the conversation, to save the past-Loki from feeling the hurt and pain he was about to experience, to feel the inadequacy he was about to endure. He was pure, and Odin was mere moments away from tainting that.

Loki shook his head, ready to defend me, “there has never been any hint of darkness within Eva, and I would be the first to know. Over the past millennia, I’ve explored the deepest recesses of her mind, and I’ve seen nothing but a blinding light, a light so pure and radiant that I can’t bring myself to look upon it for too long. She makes me want to be better and better each day I’m with her!”

“Until the day she becomes what she was always meant to be!” Odin shouted, clearly having heard enough from the man who stood in front of him, a man he claimed was his son for so many years.

“I don’t understand what you mean!” Loki exclaimed, his voice piercing the silence that would’ve otherwise plagued the war room. Seeing Loki so ready to defend me was heartbreaking because he shouldn’t have been put in that position. I didn’t want to see him so hurt, so confused. He pointed at Odin, tears of frustration clinging to his cheeks as they rolled down his silky smooth skin, “you claim to know her, but you think her to be some abomination, a monster!”

Odin’s face became beat red, and he reached out in front of him, grabbing the circular table at the center of the war room and tearing it off the floor before throwing it across the room. The pieces we had once used as a way to guide our ideas or war strategies went flying to each corner of the large room as Odin turned his focus back over to Loki, “because I know her better than anyone else could ever possibly know her! I know where she comes from, where she belongs, what she’s capable of! You have no idea because you’re blinded!” he yelled, closing the space between them. I moved, trying to step away from present-Loki to somehow protect past-Loki, but the arm that was wrapped around my waist was secure. When I looked up at my love, he shook his head, still looking at the scene before him with pain clouding his vision. Our eyes didn’t meet, but I could see in them that he didn’t want to let me go. Odin stood directly in front of Loki, who looked smaller than ever in that moment, “a girl who could pass as a princess, even without a prince, would be better suited for Thor, and I will not entertain these childish games any longer! Eva needs to be contained, and Thor is the best fit for that job. He could keep her controlled if need be, but you only add more chaos. This conversation is over!” he boomed before turning on his heel and beginning to walk toward the door to exit the room.

Loki stepped forward, continuing to provoke the argument even more. He didn’t want to go down without a fight, and that made the scene even more tragic than I could’ve imagined, “this conversation isn’t over until you tell me that all of these plans, all of this waiting hasn’t been in vain! This isn’t over until you give me your blessing to marry the love of my life!” he yelled after the Allfather, wiping his tears away as quickly as possible.

Odin whipped around, clearly caught off guard by Loki’s insistence on getting his way. That was one thing I’d always known about the Allfather: he didn’t like to be questioned. When he set a new law in motion, it was best to bend, or you would be broken. Odin narrowed his eye at the broken man before him, “as your King and as your father, you will never receive my blessing to marry that girl. She is to be set aside and saved for your brother. From this moment on, I forbid you from continuing your relationship with her, and if you do, I will see to it that you are both thrown into Asgard’s deepest dungeons. You would be sacrificing your life and freedom as well as her own. She belongs to you no longer,” he declared, setting the new “law” into motion.

“You can’t take her away from me!” Loki screamed, falling to his knees in the middle of the room. His arms wrapped around his body as he hugged himself. My heart shattered as he wept in the middle of the floor.

“I just did,” Odin remarked before disappearing from the room.

Loki wailed, his cries tearing through my very soul. I’d never heard such agonizing sounds coming from him. The only other time he experienced that much agony was in New York and in the vision Ezra planted in his mind. I broke free of the arms that held me and ran to the man within the memory, falling to my knees at his side, “she’s all I have!” he screamed after his father, his body heaving and trembling with unrelenting despair, “I don’t have anyone else!” he wailed, falling forward to catch himself on his hands. His breaths were ragged, frantic, and shallow, and his cries echoed through the room as I fell to my knees beside him, reaching out to touch him. Before I could run my fingers through his long, black locks, he disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, I found myself back in the forest with Loki, his arms wrapped tightly around me, almost as if he was afraid to let me go. He curled into me, forcing his body closer to mine like a scared child. Within me, a pain arose that was so great it could destroy galaxies. Seeing the love of my life crumble before my eyes had been a horrific sight, a sight that would plague my nightmares for the rest of my life. I wrapped my left arm around him while my right hand cradled his head against my chest. I was comfortable sitting in the deafening silence with him, allowing him to cry if he needed to do so. There had been countless times when he did so for me. This time, though, he didn’t yearn for the silence, and he spoke, “after the confrontation with Odin, I struggled with what I should do. I didn’t want you or your reputation to be tarnished because of me, and I couldn’t live with myself if you were punished for our love,” he explained, his voice trembling just as it did in the memory he shared with me.

I listened intently to his words, not wanting to interrupt his flow of thought. However, while he spoke, I ran my fingers through his wild, black locks, “I pushed you away, and that was the worst decision of my life. It was the hardest decision I had ever made, but it was the wrong one. When I left you in the garden, I began planning Odin’s downfall as well as Thor’s. I was hungry for the throne of Asgard. I wanted it to be mine and mine alone because if I was King, no one could tell me who I could or could not marry. I didn’t think about how the unspeakable acts of treason I committed could potentially cause you to be disgusted by my mere presence. I didn’t think of anything but the power I would have as King. Odin made me feel powerless that day in the war room, and I never wanted to feel that again,” he confessed, opening his heart up to me for the first time in such a long time. He answered so many of the questions I never had the chance to ask him, but he knew, in his heart, that I needed them to be explained.

He shook his head in disbelief at his own train of thought, “another part of me still wanted to please the man I believed to be my father. I wanted to prove him wrong, prove to him that I was worthy of happiness, that I was worthy of you. I wanted him to see that I was worthy of the throne, and maybe, I wouldn’t have had to cast Thor aside in order to take it. I loved my brother...I still do, but I was willing to do whatever I had to do in order to prove myself in the eyes of the Asgardian people, my father, and myself,” he explained, turning his eyes up to meet mine, “I was ready to ask you to marry me that day, Eva. I had carried around the ring my mother had forged for years, waiting for the right moment. I used to sit up at night, thinking of the right words to say, how I would say them, what you would say to me. I’d think of all the different scenarios, too. That day in the garden, though, I was prepared to ask you to be mine for the rest of time. Looking back on it now, I wish I would’ve scooped you up in my arms and run. We would’ve run as far from home as we could, and we could’ve built our lives together like we’ve always dreamed.”

“There’s still time,” I murmured, causing his eyes to widen. He pulled away from me, staring at me like I had three heads. He sat in disbelief at my words, ocean blue eyes scanning mine for any traces of dishonesty. He would find none. I reached down to my side, stroking my hand through the grass at the base of the tree as my eyes remained locked on his, “we could run away together and get married on Midgard like we used to talk about, or we could get married right here, under the tree we fell in love beneath,” I relished in the idea, butterflies fluttering around my abdomen.

He cocked his eyebrow, the disbelief giving way to playfulness, “then what?”

“We could buy a little cottage in the south of France or Ireland, and we could build a life there,” I answered, remembering the numerous conversations we had about potentially living in those two places in particular. Loki and I both loved the peaceful nature. We wanted to live intentionally, and we found that easiest in places that were less crowded. My heart flipped as I thought of the beauty we would create, “we could have children, and they would be free to run and play as much as they’d like. We wouldn’t have to hide anymore. We would be free to love,” I continued, my heart beating faster the longer our eyes were connected. I never stopped loving him, but it felt like I was falling in love with him for the first time all over again. The feeling was intense, magical, right.

“I don’t think I’d be allowed on Midgard under any circumstances for the rest of time,” he snickered to himself, trying to make light of a situation that plagued his past. His eyes still remained hopeful, “but we’re free to love tonight, and that’s good enough for right now,” he added, a smile crossing over his lips. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes, but it wouldn’t have been Loki without the mischief.

His mischief fed my own, and I could see my eyes darken in his own, the desire overcoming me. I had hungered for his touch for so long, his hands rediscovering every piece of my body that they had become acquainted with time and time again, just as mine had with his. We had spent so many nights together that when we were apart, I could still feel the warmth of his skin against my own. I knew every dip, every freckle, every scar, every inch, “I must leave you before the sun rises, but you are free for tonight. What is it you desire, my prince?” I asked the suggestive question, leaning forward and drinking in the sight of him.

He smirked, knowing the game he was playing. It was the one we played with each other more times than I could count. It started out playfully, but it got intense rather quickly, “you know exactly what I want,” he whispered, seeing the destination clearly. This was the place where we first celebrated our love. Beneath the tree where we fell in love, we gave ourselves to one another, gifting something so precious to the other. We had only ever known each other in such an intimate way, and that never changed. It was only fitting to rediscover each other in the same place we first discovered each other. His words, the way he said them, it was as if we had spent no time away from each other at all. He still knew how to make the knot in my abdomen tighten, how to build up the heat and desire in my very core

Knowing what to do, I grasped his shoulder and swung my leg over him so that I was straddling his hips. A surge of exhilaration tore through him, and I felt him quiver beneath me. Aware of the effect I had on him, I leaned forward, my breath cascading across his lips. I ran my lips along his strong jaw and felt him shiver beneath me. Everything-from the moment he left me until the moment he opened his heart back up to me-fell to the wayside, and it was as if nothing had changed between us. None of the heartache, fear, anger, or grief mattered in that moment together. I could feel the challenging grin overtake my lips, “I want to hear you say it,” I growled, the heat of desire spreading through my veins and through every limb, culminating in my lower abdomen.

My lips trailed down to his neck, planting kisses the whole way. When I finally reached the spot that drove him wild with desire, I latched my lips onto it, feeling him writhe beneath me, a desperate moan escaping from his lips as he threw his head back against the tree. With my left hand still holding firmly to his shoulder, my right hand was lost within his black locks, tangling themselves in his wild hair. I left my mark on him, my teeth grazing the sensitive patch of skin I had made my own. I leaned into his ear, tucking the lobe between my teeth and biting down just hard enough to elicit a shaky breath from him. Satisfied with myself, I pulled away only enough to allow the warmth of my breath to dance along his neck and ear, “tell me,” I insisted, my voice quieter than the sound of the cool night breeze.

He cracked under his urges and desires. I felt it as if it was the ground crumbling beneath my feet, “I want you!” he growled, his hand tangling in my hair and tugging at the roots to pull my mouth away from his ear. His eyes locked with mine, and they darkened. He was ravenous. He looked like a predator about to tackle its prey to the ground and tear through it. Without needing prompting, he always knew what I desired, and I knew what would satiate his hunger, what would fill him. There were nights when he was gentle and loving with me, but gentleness wasn’t what I craved this time. He knew that.

I gripped the hair at the back of his head even harder, tugging it back like he did to mine. It exposed the length of his neck to me, trailing down to the V-neckline of his green tunic. He growled at the sudden movement, but a grin overcame his lips. He was well-aware of what was about to transpire, we both were. It had been so long since we’d known each other in such an intimate way, but this was exactly what I needed, one of the reasons why I came back to Asgard. I needed answers when it came to Loki, and this was part of it. I needed to have closure in case my task on Midgard claimed my life. I narrowed my eyes at him, ready to challenge him as I had so many times before, “if you want me...take me.”

We laid in the grass facing one another. Loki’s right arm was wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him, our bare bodies fitting together like the jagged edges of a puzzle. Our breathing was slowly steadying, evening itself out after such an intense portrayal of undying love. It began as an act filled with lust and desperation, but-just as it always did-it built into something sensual, delicate, gentle. Loki took his time with me, and I did the same with him. Neither of us could stop smiling at one another, and the butterflies continued as Loki looked at me like I was the only woman who ever existed, the only woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

He propped himself up on his left elbow, towering over me and continuing to drink in the sight of me just as I was doing to him. I felt euphoria coursing through my veins. Nothing else mattered at that moment except for the two of us. I had him back, and my universe was falling back into place. I could hold him, kiss him, show him all the love I had saved since the garden. A dull ache in my heart reminded me that there was still one missing piece, a missing piece that could’ve been reattached should things in Asgard be solved. If my love no longer saw me as an enemy and would no longer use my heart against me, there was a chance to bring back the person I’d been missing the most. Her.

His right hand left my waist to reach up and brush the stray strands of hair away from my face, gently tucking them behind my ear. His eyes were filled with amazement, and he finally built up the courage to disrupt the silence that had fallen between us, “I love you,” he whispered, his warm breath cascading across my face.

Tears of joy and complete wholeness filled my eyes. It had been far too long since I’d heard those words from him. It was like the warmth of spring when winter finally ceased her brutal assault. The warmth made you forget about how cold it had once been, how the freezing air seemed to invade the very bones within you. His absence was my winter, and I was finally back in the spring, feeling the warmth of the sun upon my frostbitten skin. My heart filled to the brim, and I reached up, pushing his hair back to see the man I once knew, the man I was almost certain had died, giving way to the brutality of the man I saw in New York. I rested my hand against the back of his neck, guiding his lips down to mine and holding him against me with a kiss. I couldn’t get enough of him. It only took one single taste of what I once had, and he claimed me once again. When we pulled away from the kiss, I searched his eyes and saw no signs of the man with his face from New York. This was my love, my light, my life. This was my Loki. Wanting to convey how deeply enthralled I was by him still, I used the same response we once used, “I love you more.”

His eyes brightened, and the most contagiously joyous smile spread across those beautiful lips. That was how it was done. The silver-tongued God of Mischief with a quick wit was rendered completely speechless by my profession of love for him. While I had been open about my strong feelings of love for him that lived on past the supposed death of our romantic journey, I hadn’t brought him back the way I knew the words would. It was my way of professing how willing and ready I was to overcome everything and fall back into what we once had. The look in his eyes told me that he was ready to do the same. Finally shaking off his disbelief, his face fell solemn once more as his fingers danced along my skin, “if I asked you now...what would your response be?” he asked, hinting at the proposal of marriage he had never been brave enough to speak of aside from his cryptic questions.

My heart felt like it jumped into my throat, stopping all air flow as the thought of being with him once more arose. I would be promised to the man I loved so endlessly, and the possibility of having that back-of having back everything that I once loved and lost-was overwhelming. Still, I smirked up at him, “my response has never changed, and it never will. I’ve always told you that my answer depended on whether or not you were brave enough to ask me outright,” I answered, cocking an eyebrow in a challenging way, knowing that he was a planner. This was the most unplanned and spontaneous thing I’d ever done, and I pulled him into it. There was no way he could’ve planned for it, so it was no use dreaming of him asking me to be his eternal love on that night.

He tilted his head, gazing up at the stars as if they would answer the following question for him. He was puzzled, the small crease between his eyebrows becoming more prominent, “none of what happened has changed that?” he asked, his eyes flickering back down to mine. He looked almost concerned for my sanity, like my love for him was somehow a treasonous act. If so, I’d rather be put to death than have to live a lie.

“Not at all,” I answered, shaking my head and propping myself up onto my right elbow. Seeing that I was looking for dominance, Loki laid with his back against the emerald green grass, gazing up at me with skin that glistened under the light of the stars. The tips of my fingers danced along his chest, particularly over his heart, the place my head had been planted almost every single night for more than a thousand years. I would be rocked to sleep by the lullaby that his heart became, and he held me in the arms I’d come to know as my home. I smoothed his hair back, “I wish I could make you understand why, Loki, but I cannot. I cannot explain why, after all that has happened, I still look at you and feel like it’s the first time I’m seeing you; why, after all we’ve been through, each time our eyes meet, my love for you feels as fresh as the morning air. I cannot explain how, after all the times I’ve tasted the sugar-touch of your lips, each time we kiss it’s as sweet as the air after nearly drowning.”

As I spoke the words, Loki’s eyes began to fill with tears, but the smile on his face told me that he was in no sort of distress or grief. He felt joy in that moment. A man who had gone without it for far too long was receiving it once more. I caressed his cheek, features that could cut through diamond laid under such supple skin, “the man who threatened the very essence of life itself, the man who nearly killed me, the man who hurt me in ways I never thought I could hurt...that man wasn’t you, Loki. That man was the person Thanos turned you into, and in doing so, he made himself my greatest enemy,” I stated, the heat rising in me once more. I pushed it aside, not wanting to see the fear in his eyes as I had in the dungeons when I spoke of Thanos. The mere mention of his name caused his eyes to widen, so I moved along as quickly as I could, not wanting the feeling of fear to linger within him, “none of what happened has made me love you less. I’ve loved you every moment of my life, even when it would’ve been easier to stop loving you, even when it would’ve been less painful to tear you out of my life. It’s why I couldn’t kill you in New York. You are my person, and I would choose you forever,” I reminded him of a fact that we had always known to be true.

He shook his head, guilt tearing through him. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to hold in the emotions I so desperately wanted him to show. As I continued to stroke his cheek, the tears fell, cascading down the side of his face and falling into the mess of wild black hair that had become acquainted with the grass, “I’m broken,” he confessed, almost as if he thought he could push me away with that, as if we hadn’t been through more than enough to trust that we would be by each other’s side for the rest of eternity, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. He said it as if I would change my mind, like every other trial paled in comparison to this one. He didn’t seem to understand that a happy life was all I’d ever yearned for, all I ever wanted, and it couldn’t be a happy life without him in it.

His words upset me, breathing life back into the smoldering coals within my healing heart, bringing about a rebirth of the intense fire that had lived within me for so long. Red and white flames licked at the walls of my heart, feeding the passion within me, a passion I thought had died when I forfeited my happiness during the event I referred to as “the great calamity.” I laid waste to my entire life, tearing apart all I’d ever held dear and saying my sorrowful farewell to every ounce of love I’d never feel again, “don’t you ever say that about yourself! I never want to hear those words from you for the rest of my life! You aren’t broken. You might be a little bruised, a little bent, but you’ve never been broken, Loki,” I stressed to him, his words feeling like a dagger through my heart, and it felt like my very soul began to bleed out beneath me in the grass as I thought of how tragic his words were, “you’re the man I love with all my heart and soul, the man I want to marry someday, the man I trust with my life...the man I want to have a family with. Children with your hair and my eyes,” I reminded him of the family we always dreamed of as my eyes filled with wistful tears.

“Nova or Aurora,” he smiled, saying the names like a fond memory, a beautiful one that he grasped tightly in the cold nights we spent away from one another.

My breath hitched in my throat as I thought of the names we’d come up with as we gazed up at the stars one night. My hair was splayed out against his chest and abdomen, and we laid in the grassy meadow that sat a short walk away from the tree. We stared up at the stars together, his fingers tangling themselves into my curls, and we listed off names that we loved. All of them were names I seldom imagined lately, the thought of them only bringing me pain. At the top of the list was Nova and...Aurora. My heart nearly suffocated me, “I’d want more than two,” I whispered before pressing a kiss to his delicate lips.

He smiled up at me, “I remember that, and so would I,” he murmured, his hand coming to rest against my lower abdomen, mindful of the wound I had bound up. The movement was one he made often after we were finished our intimate acts of love, almost as if he had-for centuries-been trying to will a child into existence. This time, though, he was making his intentions as clear as the night sky.

“Don’t break my heart, Loki,” I warned him, knowing how sensitive I was to the concept of children, of starting a family with him. They would be the embodiment of our love.

His eyes darkened as he became serious, understanding just how sensitive I was to the topic, “I want to have a baby with you, Eva. I want children together, and if I could change history, we would’ve started our family centuries ago instead of tiptoeing around the subject of children, which was largely because of how insecure I was about myself and my ability to be good at...anything, especially being a father to the children we would have,” he confessed, being more transparent with me about it than he ever had before. He was finally admitting to what I’d always known. He was quiet on that matter because he was afraid, “while I still think I’m too tainted and broken to be a father, I know that taking the journey with you will only make me a better man just as it always has. It’s what’s missing, and I don’t want to wait any longer, but the choice is not solely up to me, it’s up to you as well.”

“And what if we had begun our family sooner?” I asked in an attempt to get him to realize that prior to the events of his fall, we were lucky to have not had several children as we both dreamed of. We were lucky. Lucky. Lucky. He was lucky. The pain my love felt at the hands of Thanos, while great and detrimental, paled in comparison to the agony that I experienced when I was forced to abandon the last shred of love, happiness, and joy. I would’ve taken a thousand years of torture at the hands of Thanos when I thought of what happened. I wanted my mind to be ripped away from me if it meant that I didn’t lose all that I did. Loki’s fall tore my heart and soul apart, but his return and the subsequent repercussions of that tore me apart even more than I thought possible. The day after he returned was the day I travelled to Midgard as two and returned as one. It was the day Heimdall cried. It was the day I wished with every ounce of my being that Loki had simply killed me on Midgard. Loki was the lucky one.

As he turned my question over and over again in his mind, I continued speaking, “what would’ve happened if the events transpired the same way they did in the garden? What would’ve happened if the man who wanted to hurt me so intimately knew that we had a child together-a child that would mean more to me than all the lives in the universe combined? Tell me he wouldn’t have hurt her...or him,” I pressed, trying to get him to realize the crushing reality of our past. His dream to go back and start a family sooner was a sweet sentiment but an impossible reality. Most of our past was a dream to look at, to revel at the beauty of it, but dreams had to end, and we had to be awake to what was in front of us. I had the man of my dreams before me, so every moment in our past had led us up to this single moment in time. I was grateful for it. I was the lucky one.

In Loki’s silence, I saw that he was coming to the realization that should we have split apart in the same soul-crushing way, he would’ve done the unthinkable. He had nearly killed me, and it wasn’t until I could feel the cold caress of Death that he came around. Even then, I had to fight to survive. If it wasn’t for Tony, my final words to him on that day would’ve been my final words to him. Period. His eyes disconnected from mine, and he turned his gaze away in shame. That wasn’t the point of my question, though. I didn’t mean to make him feel shame over his actions, but I wanted him to understand that the timing wasn’t right for those reasons. I didn’t want him to dwell on what we didn’t have but see what we could have moving forward. I grasped his chin and turned his head until our eyes connected once more, “maybe you would’ve stayed by my side every moment, and you would’ve disregarded Odin’s cruelty. Maybe we would’ve run away together to be married on Midgard, but that’s not how it worked out for us, and there’s no going back to change it.”

“I have never turned to anyone for the elixir,” I confessed, causing his eyes to ignite and burn like the light of a thousand stars. The elixir was one made of special herbs and fruits around Asgard as well as water from the Neverending Spring. Asgardian sorcerers brewed the elixir to put a halt to unintended pregnancy. I had never inquired about the elixir as I’d always been willing to mother Loki’s children. That was what solidified our love for him in that moment. I saw the change in his eyes, the bright passion burning behind irises of pure and radiant crystal blue. He was overjoyed, and it made him realize that my intentions, my love for him, my devotion to him had never changed, “we’ve never taken precautions, so maybe fate has made us wait this long for a reason. Maybe the universe put our love to the test to see if we were truly ready for this. Maybe this is the beginning,” I murmured, resting my hand atop his on my abdomen.

Our eyes danced with joy and passion, like two flames taunting each other. They knew they could do no harm to the other. They were made of fire, and fire didn’t live in fear of being burned. It was that moment that we both came to the realization that we couldn’t move on without the other, that the stars had aligned and allowed us the second chance we so desperately needed, “if you were to ask me to have a baby with you right now, my answer is clear in the love we created tonight. My plans with you never changed, not even for a moment. Even after you broke my heart, you could’ve come running back to me and asked for my hand, and I would’ve said ‘yes’ to you,” I continued, my voice strong and sure. I could feel the familiar stir within me, one I had felt before, one that began the most exhilarating journey of my life. It was a journey that ended in pain and sorrow, but it was a journey nonetheless. Excitement filled me as I felt the whisper of life itself against my skin. I knew this feeling. She was speaking to me.

You are ready.

Her voice was gentle, loving, and more gratifying than the sweets from the shop in the center of the market that Loki and I used to frequent at least once each week. Usually, when I focused on the connection I had to the planet below me, I could feel each of their life energies. However, this voice was unfamiliar to me. It wasn’t the voice of Asgard, but it was the disembodied voice of the essence of life. We were connected, joined together as one. Her voice was a melody my heart knew the words to. My heart, without her, had only known the melancholy melody of the most grief-stricken song to have ever been upon my lips. Now, the flowers in my heart began to bloom once more, spring taking over as the cardinal season. With her words digging deep within me, I knew that she was right.

I was ready.

Throughout the night, Loki and I spoke with one another, basking in each others presence. He spoke briefly about his time with Thanos, but his eyes filled with fear when they witnessed the anger in mine. He was thorough in his questions, asking about what I had done in the time without him and inquiring about the Midgardians. I told him everything-almost everything. We spoke of Hjalmar, and he shed tears for a lost friend-a brother-when I told him about my brother’s final battle. He asked about Tony, still feeling a sense of urgent protectiveness over him. Loki had made a similar promise to Howard and Maria to keep Tony safe, and he was certain that should we meet them in whatever life came after this, they would have his head for what he put Tony through.

He knew better, though.

When I explained the situation with Tony, Loki was filled with restlessness. He looked as if he wanted to go down to Earth to help fix the mess because he couldn’t fix the ones in the past. His guilt was eating away at him, and it hurt to see that. As soon as the time was right, I’d take Loki to Midgard with me, and he could have his chance to apologize to the faces of those he victimized. In the meantime, while it was clear that he didn’t want me to leave the “safety” of Asgard, he understood my protective instincts over Tony. I saw Tony as one of my own. I nurtured him when he was an infant. I held him when he cried, played with him, laughed with him, cared for him, loved him. He grew up to be a man capable of so much more than he dreamed, but I couldn’t see him as a man. I couldn’t see him as Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. I still saw him as the little boy with big brown eyes and a heart of gold that put Asgard to shame. Tony was still a precious gem in my eyes, and Loki saw that as clear as day in the way I spoke about him. We both had deep connections to Tony, but I never managed to distance myself enough from him.

Upon the realization that I wouldn’t give up on my trip to Midgard, all Loki asked of me was to return home to him. He had accepted long ago that my destiny was to help those in need, to protect those that I loved most, to be their shield. He knew that helping Tony was my priority, and he didn’t try to talk me out of it. He respected the love I harbored for the Midgardians. It was a love we both shared at one point, and it was a love he would rebuild. All he wanted was to make sure I knew that he would be waiting for me when I returned. He just wanted to give me another reason to return, not knowing that he’d never left that ever-growing list of reasons I had to live another day.

As the sky began to brighten ever so slowly in the early hours of the morning, I knew that the time for me to leave was approaching, and I finally realized how lucky I was. I had been given the chance of a lifetime. I lived long enough to have this moment with Loki. Everything had fallen into place so perfectly. If anything had happened any differently, I never would’ve had such precious time with my love. If I hadn’t checked on Tony that night to find out he was in trouble, if I hadn’t stumbled across the shack and met Harley, if I hadn’t allowed myself to grow attached to the little boy with starlight in his eyes, if I hadn’t agreed to help Tony in his mission to stop the Mandarin, if I hadn’t asked Kaia what she was afraid of, if I hadn’t nearly died none of this would’ve happened. I was given the opportunity to spend one last night with the love of my life, my soulmate, my happily ever after, my prince, the light of my life, my Loki. It was a gift, and our time together was coming to an end.

With tears of a bittersweet ending rising to my eyes, I gazed over at him with nothing but fond memories flooding my mind. It felt like our love was back to the way it once was. It was fresh yet familiar. I was the luckiest woman in all the universe because I had just a single night holding my whole world in my arms, but I couldn’t help the constant barrage of scenarios that could play out once I left. As soon as the first tear fell, his eyebrows furrowed, “what’s wrong, my love?”

I cleared my throat, trying to keep myself from breaking down. The mere thought that this could potentially be my final night with the man I loved, that it could so easily go back to how it was before, it made me fall into the pit of despair I had become acquainted with. I didn’t want to emptiness there anymore. My life without him wasn’t always painful, it was that the space he took up by my side was empty, and the space in my heart that he filled with love was a hole. In those moments of missing him so greatly, of missing what we could’ve been, what I missed because of him, I had often entertained my darker fantasies. I would think of throwing myself in front of my enemy’s sword, of plunging one of the daggers he had gifted me straight into my heart, of throwing myself from the Bifrost. I entertained those ideas until I was filled with fear that I would actually give into one of them. Living without him made me stronger, but when I tried to look at my future without him, it tore me down to nothing, so much so that the most appealing option was to make it so that I had no future to experience. Would I tell him that? Never. He didn’t deserve the pain of knowing what his absence had done to me. He blamed himself enough, and I wouldn’t add to it, “I just...I’ve missed you so much, and what if I’m never this happy again? What if things go back to the way they were before?” I asked, voicing my greatest fear.

He didn’t skip a single beat, “they won’t,” he answered with a sense of assuredness.

“But you don’t know that,” I argued, standing up from the grass. After making love to each other for a second time that night, we had redressed ourselves. My gown, much like his shirt, was still slightly disheveled from being hurriedly pulled from my body and tossed to the side.

Just as I moved to stand up, he was right behind me, pushing himself up from the ground, ready to argue against my pessimism, “I do know that!” he insisted, his voice stronger than it was before. Loki and I had experienced our fair share of arguments during our time together, but it always ended with those three little words and a kiss. We never retired to bed or away from one another until the argument was resolved and any hostility had been put to rest. Loki’s eyes burned with a fiery passion, and I saw how serious he was in his words, how unmovable his love always had been. There was a part he wasn’t letting me see, a part that he wasn’t telling me, but I knew that he told me no lies in that moment, “I was the person who put the strain on our relationship, the one who broke your heart, and-in turn-broke my own. I know what I did to you, and I hate myself for that. I can’t excuse any of that, and I can’t take it back no matter how badly I want to. All I know is that not a single moment passed where I didn’t think of you,” he confessed, tears of frustration and despair filling his eyes. I knew that I caused some of that despair by questioning what the future held.

“Thanos tried to pull you out, tear you away from me. He wanted to drown me, and you were my air. Thinking about you hurt me so deeply because I knew the last memories I left you with were painful ones. I tried not to think of you, but every single time I closed my eyes, you were right there like an ethereal dream within a chaotic, inescapable nightmare. I loved you even when every ounce of love was ripped away from me and replaced with a burning hatred. I felt your warm embrace from galaxies away even in the heat of my torture. I know what life was like without you, what my future looked like without you, and I realized that death would be more comforting than a future-a life-without you,” he explained, causing my tears to flow even faster. I didn’t want to think that he had been just as lost without me as I was without him, “you’re my princess, my queen, my love, my light, my life, my most exquisite dream. You are the very best part of me, Eva, and I don’t want this to go away ever again. Seeing you-being with you once more-has been like feeling the sun on my skin after a long night. You are everything to me, and I will fight until my last breath to keep this alive because I love you...endlessly, without reason, without a care for time or circumstance. I love you because I love you, and I’d sooner forfeit my own life than live another day without the warmth of our love shining into the darkest corners of my heart.”

His words caused my heart to swell with joy, but I couldn’t shake the fear in my heart. There were so many uncertainties in my life at that moment, and Loki was trying to put one of them to bed. I knew that he told me no lies. He was genuine. He wouldn’t leave me again, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t be alone. The possibility that I would leave him was still far too great, but I couldn’t explain to him the unbalanced scales within me. I felt more powerful than ever before, but I also felt weaker than ever. I was afraid of dying for the first time in such a long time, but I couldn’t express those fears to him, not when I knew he feared the same fate for me.

As I cried, Loki’s strong, slender arms wrapped around my body, and he pulled me flush against his own. He held me against him, inhaling with my exhale as our bodies accommodated one another. One of the purest, most beautiful things about Loki was that he never tried to stop my tears. It broke his heart to see me cry, just as it broke mine when I witnessed his tears, but he never interfered with my sorrow. Instead, he held me until the last tear fell, and he would sit with me in the aftermath, losing his fingers in my hair, whispering sweet nothings to me, and pressing the most delicate kisses against my skin. He never left me even when the darkness scared him as much as it scared me. Instead, we faced it together.

When the tears finally subsided, with one hand under my chin, he tilted my head up until our eyes met-the ocean meeting the land. The pads of his fingers wiped away the wetness on my cheeks, and he leaned his forehead against mine, our noses brushing together ever so lightly, “do you remember that one night in Venice when we took the gondola ride in the middle of the night?” he asked, bringing up a memory that had always made us laugh looking back on it. A chuckle escaped my lips, but he continued, “we asked the gondolier to sing, and when you started to sing with him, he was so shocked at your voice that he went to step back and fell off the gondola,” he reminded me, refreshing such a joyous memory. Once the ride had finished, the gondolier had asked me to sing to him, and after the incident I’d caused, I couldn’t deny him such a simple request.

As the laughter overcame me, Loki finally stepped away from me, releasing my body from his warm embrace, but I still felt the warmth of that memory in my soul. His eyes scanned me up and down, drinking me in once more, and a feeling of such serenity fell over us both. Our eyes connected, and I saw something I’d only seen in him a handful of times in the past, times when I thought that it would be that moment in which he was finally brave enough. His eyes were just as playful as they always had been in the past, but this time, they were also filled with a romantic intensity, “in 1845, we visited Charlotte, do you remember that?” he asked, referring to one of the many times we had visited a woman I considered to be one of my closest friends in all my life.

I nodded my head, “it was the time you let Anne and Emily braid your hair in the parlor,” I reminisced about Charlotte’s two sisters with a fondness. They were all so beautifully spoken, creating some of the most beautiful works I’d ever had the privilege of reading, and they were gone before their time. That day in particular, though, Anne and Emily had braided Loki’s hair in the parlor, laughing and giggling with one another the entire time until they presented him to Charlotte and myself. He was never annoyed with any of them, always wanting to make the three women smile, especially because he knew that my happiness was dependent on theirs.

He nodded his head, a smile forming on his lips, “do you remember when I asked to speak with Charlotte in private?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as his eyes danced with a magic of their own.

“So that you two could plan my inevitable demise,” I joked, smiling as I remembered the connection we all shared. I knew that he missed her just as dearly as I had. All of us had been born of the same dying star, so when the universe lost her, we all felt it.

He chuckled at my lightheartedness, and he looked down at his feet, his cheeks flushing with color as he remembered their conversation, “it was so that I could ask her to put something within the novel that could be used for this very moment, words that I spoke and she scrawled,” he confessed, his words causing my heart to stop beating altogether. It felt like his words knocked the wind from my lungs, and I was left hopelessly speechless, “I knew that it would be the part of the novel that would move you and your tragic heart that I’ve loved since the beginning of time, and I wanted my words to live within that. For years, you’ve read them to me over and over again, and now, I’ll finally tell them to you as they were meant to be conveyed, but this time...I hope for a more pleasant outcome.”

Loki had always known my favorite part of that novel, the part in which Jane realized her worth and denied Rochester his proposal. His words had been so eloquent and beautiful, but she refused to marry him, knowing that she would be nothing more than his mistress. Before I could speak, he continued, quoting my favorite part of the novel, the part me and my tragic heart had a connection to, “I have for the first time found what I can truly love-I have found you. You are my sympathy-my better self-my good angel-I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you-and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one,” he quoted the part of the novel that always made me cry, without fail. That time was no different, but the reason for my tears was foreign in regards to those words. They had a new meaning.

He reached down between us in the grass and plucked a blade of it up, holding it at eye level as he scanned it just as he had done to me only a moment prior. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. He knew my connection to the world, and he never defaced her unless he found it necessary. She gave just as freely to him as she did to me, and we always gave back to her. I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched his fingers work the piece of grass into a circle, “June 14th, 1945, you danced with Howard Stark, and he asked you to marry him. He promised to buy you the biggest, most beautiful ring in all of New York. He promised you the biggest wedding money could buy, and he promised you the most beautiful dress that he’d have custom made for you, but you turned him down. Do you remember what you said to him?”

I have no need for a custom made dress or an extravagant wedding. I have no need for such a ring, either. All I’ve ever needed in my life...is love, and I found that in Loki, in the man I plan to spend the rest of my life with...He could ask for my hand with a blade of grass tied around my finger, and I would say “yes” to him in a heartbeat.

I nodded my head, clasping my hand over my mouth, unable to speak as the tears flowed freely. I knew what was happening. I knew what was about to happen. My life would change forever, but I was ready for it. Seeing that I couldn’t speak, he chuckled to himself, glancing down at the ring made of grass in his hands. I watched as it began to glow with a golden hue surrounding it as he imbued it with his magic. When his gaze finally met mine once more, I saw the tears in his eyes. He looked so happy-happier than any other moment we shared together, but he also looked so nervous all at the same time. I stepped closer to him, reaching up to cradle his face in my hands. I pressed a firm kiss to his lips, lingering there as I basked in the beauty of that moment.

After pulling away from him, he cleared his throat, kneeling down to the ground on one knee, causing the tears to fall faster than before, clouding my vision of him as I struggled to steady my breathing. “I have had the privilege of getting to love you since the beginning of time. Now, I’m asking you to allow me the honor of loving you until time ceases to exist. You are the loveliest, gentlest, most powerful woman I’ve ever known. I want to wake up every morning to the sweet sight of you, your hair a mess and your body tangled in the sheets. I want to fall asleep with my final words being words of love to you, falling asleep with your body against my own. I want my last view in this life to be of your eyes. My love for you spans to the edge of the universe and back again. You’re my favorite part of every day,” he murmured, tears falling down his cheeks as I reached down between us to wipe them away, “you told me once at the very beginning of this relationship that being together was a bad idea, but if that’s true, then this is the best bad idea I’ve ever made. You told me that you wouldn’t agree to be my wife until I was brave enough to ask you. Well, I’m brave enough now, and I’m choosing you.”

It was real. This wasn’t just a lead-up to him backing out suddenly. This was happening, “Loki,” I breathed out, unable to form a coherent thought. My whole future was right in front of me, and I already knew my answer to his unspoken question.

He drew a deep breath, calming himself before uttering the words I had waited so very long to hear from him, “Eva, daughter of Aaldir, the light and love of my life,” he paused, our eyes connecting with each others, dancing together in the most beautiful, vulnerable moment we’d ever had with one another. He held up the ring made from the blade of grass, realizing that this was the beginning of our forever and always, “will you marry me?”

He could ask for my hand with a blade of grass tied around my finger, and I would say “yes” to him in a heartbeat.

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years

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Fic: Paint, Picnics, and Predicaments

Summary: Rumpel’s attempt to give Belle a nice surprise backfires slightly when she turns up with lunch unexpectedly. Set in a nebulous alternate season 5-6 in which everything is happy.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “I’m not dressed for this.”

Rated: T

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Paint, Picnics, and Predicaments

It was time to begin. Belle was out at the library and would not be home until the end of the day, and Rumpelstiltskin had plenty of time to put his plan into action. Keeping it a secret from Belle had been hard, but necessary. He kept telling himself that it was for her own good that she didn’t know, but deep down, he knew that the reasons were a little more selfish than that.

Simply, he wanted it to be a surprise for her and he wanted her to be proud of what he had achieved.

Of course, that was never going to happen if he didn’t achieve anything in the first place, so it was time to get on with it. The nursery wasn’t going to decorate itself.

Ever since Belle had discovered that she was expecting their child, she had been meticulously designing every detail of their new arrival’s nursery, consulting Rumpel about everything from possible colour combinations to the efficacy of blackout drapes. Now, the paint had been procured, the flooring had been ordered (babies and antique carpets didn’t tend to mix), and there were boxes of baby things all over the house. Geppetto had been all to happy to carve and build a crib for them, practically jumping at the chance as soon as Belle had mentioned it. It seemed like this child was the thing that had finally quelled the lingering animosities between Rumpel and the rest of the town, with everyone offering their earnest congratulations and any assistance that the parents-to-be might need.

Although flattered (and sometimes overwhelmed) by the offers of help he’d received, Rumpel was determined that decorating the nursery was something that he would do by himself – and he would not use magic to help him. He had been gradually weaning himself away from always falling back to magic as a catch-all solution to everything, and Belle had encouraged his progress every step of the way. He wanted to surprise her with this work on the nursery done by his own hands.

He entered the empty room, looked around, and immediately encountered a problem.

“I’m not dressed for this.”

Painting and decorating had not been part of Mr Gold’s repertoire, and so the appropriate clothing had never appeared in his wardrobe. Still, he couldn’t wear a suit for such work, so he entered the bedroom in search of something a bit more casual that could stand a few paint splashes.

He took out a black and white checked shirt that he had not worn since that fateful day when Emma had arrived in town and woken him from the curse, and a pair of plain cotton pyjama pants, easily replaced. Suitably attired, it was time to get stuck in.

Rumpel was no stranger to a paintbrush. Back in the Enchanted Forest, before the Dark One, he had waterproofed the outside of the cottage with lanolin every winter in an attempt to keep the worst of the bad weather out. Thinking about it brought back memories of Bae, and he felt the usual wave of sadness pull through him, made more melancholy by the knowledge that the new baby would never know his or her big brother. Still, he and Belle would make sure that their little one would know all about Bae’s life and bravery, and although he was gone, he would never be forgotten.

Rumpel made excellent progress with the painting over the next few hours, getting the first coat onto the walls and the skirting. They had decided on light blue in the end, with a border of fluffy white clouds around the top of the walls, and warm white fittings. Whatever the weather outside, their baby would always be able to look on a blue sky inside.

He was interrupted at lunchtime by the doorbell. Paintbrush still in hand, Rumpel was met with a dilemma. On the one hand, he really ought to go and see who was outside the door. On the other hand, the last thing that he wanted was any of the townsfolk seeing him in his currently besmeared state.

The doorbell rang again and Rumpel sighed, putting down the paintbrush and wiping his hands on his trousers. He opened the door carefully, keeping it between him and the person on the other side so that his state of dress would not be revealed.

He was rather surprised to find Belle standing there, holding up two bags full of takeout from Granny’s.

“I had my hands full, so I didn’t want to hunt for my keys,” she said, coming into the house as Rumpel opened the door wider for her. “I just had such a strong craving for pickles all morning that I decided to indulge. I came by the shop, but you weren’t there, so I thought that we could have a picnic here instead. I knew that you were here because all the windows were still open…” She tailed off, giving Rumpel a perplexed look. “Why are you hiding behind the door?”

Rumpel closed it, revealing his paint-splattered clothes.

“I’ve been working on the nursery. It was supposed to be a nice surprise for when you got home.”

“Well, I am home, and it is a lovely surprise.”

“I had meant for it to be slightly more finished before you saw it.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter, Rumpel.” She rushed through to the kitchen to drop off their lunch, and then skidded back into the hall. “Can I see what you’ve done so far?”

Rumpel gestured to the stairs. “As you wish, my love.”

He followed her up, hovering in the doorway as she looked around the room.

“Oh Rumpel, it’s perfect! It’s going to look so beautiful when it’s finished. Thank you for all your hard work.”

She came over with arms outstretched to hug him, and Rumpel threw up his hands to stop her.

“I’m not dressed for hugging,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to get paint all over you.”

Belle gave him a cheeky smile. “You could always take those clothes off, you know. Then I could hug you.”

Rumpel caught her hand and brought it to his lips so that he could kiss her knuckles.

“Perhaps after lunch, darling. Decorating works up an appetite, you know.”

Belle made a noise of protest, but nonetheless followed him down the stairs again when her stomach gave a very timely growl. They ate at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, one each side as they feasted on burgers, fries, and iced tea. Belle couldn’t stop grinning, giving the occasional little giggle, and Rumpel quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What is it?”

She shrugged. “I’m just so happy. It was such a wonderful surprise to find you’d started on the nursery.”

“Well, I thought it was about time to begin or else it would never be done in time, and I didn’t want you inhaling paint fumes in your state. It was for your own good, really.”

Belle patted his hand with greasy fingers. “You’re so good to me. I’m also giggling at the fact you didn’t want anyone to see you covered in paint. You were so cute hiding behind the door like that.”

“The reputation of the great and terrible Dark One has been softened enough without the general populace seeing him covered in blue paint splashes. We can’t have everyone thinking that I’m normal, that would be terrible.”

“I like the fact that you let yourself be normal for me. I like that you don’t need that armour with me.”

It had taken a long time for Rumpel to be comfortable with anyone, including Belle, seeing him for who he truly was, but now that she was here, and they were married, and they had a child on the way, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still, it was clear that Belle’s thoughts were heading in another direction now. She wiped her hands on a napkin and wiped away the greasy smudge she’d left on Rumpel, rubbing her hands together with a smirk that was hungry for something more than the meal she’d just eaten. “So, do I get to hug you now?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Rumpel said, his voice sing-song and ponderous. “The first coat of paint will be dry by now and if we want this nursery to be finished before the baby comes, then I should really get on with it. There’s still flooring to lay and furniture to assemble. Wool to spin for blankets. To be honest, I don’t know if we’re going to have time for hugs.”

Although she knew that he was teasing, Belle still pouted, folding her arms. Rumpel did have to admit that now she had entered her second trimester and was getting over the morning sickness, the influx of happy hormones had certainly made her appetite for all things concerning himself rather voracious, and he was not dismayed by this at all.

“Oh, all right then.” He began to unbutton his shirt, and Belle licked her lips.

“You know,” she began, “I think that I could definitely get used to you being covered in paint. Perhaps we can experiment with some varieties that aren’t as toxic…”

Rumpel was all too happy to agree to this idea.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Rumpelstiltskin #Alternate Season 6 #pregnant!Belle #Fic: PP&P

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mirkwoodshewolf · 7 years

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You are my world pt.1 Jefferson x reader

This was my first Jefferson x reader insert that came to mind on Wattpad shortly after I had done my first Jefferson oneshot I just had to do a romance one for him. Now be WARNED there is mentions of having a miscarriage so if that affects you in away just briefly skip over it and read one but there will be fluff to help ease the pain. This one is just full of feels I am NOT kidding so I apologize in advance if I break a few hearts out there esp. to you Jefferson fangirls.

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*Enchanted forest*

My story begins with first began as a maid to helping out an old friend of mine named Jefferson. He and I grew up together but then shortly drifted apart after he had begun to do his portal jumpings with the Dark One. He broke off the friendship to protect me and make sure the Dark One never knew I existed but he would give half of his pays to me to help support me.

A few years after he had met his wife and she gave birth to little Grace, things had happened and in the end he lost the love of his life that’s when he fully hung up his hat for good to help raise Grace. He also called me up to help take care of her and serve as his maid/babysitter for Grace. Grace looked up at me as a second mother and even though I looked after her as a child of my own, I never wanted to take the place of her real mother.

And plus I didn’t want Jefferson to be more conflicted should I reveal my true feelings for him.

But one summer’s day Grace, Jefferson and I were out in the forest having our famous tea parties.

I was drinking my tea when I took notice of Jefferson staring lovingly with that father twinkle in his eyes of his precious gem. I had always admired the way Jefferson would do whatever it takes to make sure his little girl was happy.

“(y/n), (y/n)” Jefferson’s voice snapped me out of my daze and if I had bunny rabbit ears they would’ve perked up and my eyes went like a deer about to be shot with a crossbow. “Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh no nothing, not-nothing at all Jefferson”. I assured him but little Grace knew of my dilemma (little girls know everything, at least this one does). “Listen I uhh—I think I might’ve left the clothes out too long, I think I’ll just excuse myself”. I stood up and began walking back to the cottage when I heard Jefferson’s voice behind me. Frightened I started to run as fast as I could to try and slip him off my tail when my foot suddenly got caught on a deep hole beneath a tree root and I slipped and fell hitting my head hard against the tree truck and a small boulder.

Jefferson immediately came over to me crying my name then he knelt down beside me and helped me sit up right.

“Oh Gods (y/n) are you alright? Is anything broken? Can you see right?”

“Jefferson I’m fine. Ow!” I suddenly felt pain up my ankle as I tried to stand up.

“Oh no you’re not, here let me see that foot of yours”. He gently took my right foot and gently examined it. He began gently probing and caressing any signs of pain that I may make when he got to my ankle I cringed and moaned in pain. “Well I’d call it luck or what cause your ankle isn’t broken or twisted, but it is sprained quite a bit, I’ll go get Grace and get you back home”.

“No Jefferson, you and your daughter need to spend some time together don’t worry about me, I can take care of it”.

“(Y/n) please, you’re hurt because of me, it’s the least I could do, and maybe there could be another thing”. I then took notice of the look he was making.

It was a mix between mischief and hesitation like the face a fox would make with a face so adorable you wouldn’t almost think twice before bringing it inside but the eyes reveal cunning and mischief works that only the Devil himself could do.

“And, what would that be exact—” I was interrupted by his lips against mine.

He was kissing me…….

He was kissing me…

Oh by Gods HE WAS KISSING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Respond you idiot! RESPOND DAMN IT!!!!

I then began to kiss him back with my hands slowly coming up and gently stroking through his matted hair and his arms wrapped around my waist. As we separated from each other and looked at each other, his eyes turned solemn with a hint of regret.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…… For awhile now I began to start having feelings for you. Even after I married—”

“Jefferson, enough you mad fool. I’ve loved you since forever, even after—well you know…. I thought that if I had revealed my feelings too soon you’d freak out and ban me from your life, and if I waited too late if something had ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you were—”

“Hey you skippy hare, you never have to be afraid to tell me anything. You’re my best friend (y/n) and not only that but the woman I have truly and ever loved so dearly”.

“So….. I’m not replacing……Even for Grace I—Because that’s what I’ve always feared most. Replacing Grace’s mother, your wife. I know that I could never be her, nor am I that beautiful…..”

“Shhh, hey. Enough of that now, you hear me?” He stroked a portion of my (y/h/c) out from my face and continued, “you aren’t replacing anyone (y/n) if anything you are giving her a mother, you know how young she was when she lost her mother. I wouldn’t have asked you to come in the first place if I’d thought you wouldn’t be kind to her, and so far from what I’ve seen these past years is nothing but pure love, in fact you’d make a good mother yourself”.

I smiled lovingly at Jefferson’s kind words and embraced him tightly as I cried tears of happiness. I finally had the man of my dreams and his little girl would become my daughter and I’d have the family I’ve always dreamed of having.

*One year later*

A year later, Jefferson and I were married and Grace became my new daughter and I her new mother. Our life was a happy one filled with laughter and smiles and most of all love. Jefferson and I had felt reborn everytime we were near each other due to our love for each other. It also turned out there came more happiness when I told Jefferson the greatest news of all.

I was with child. His child.

Never have I seen Jefferson so happy in his entire life, and little Grace was thrilled to be a big sister. Jefferson used his skillful carving hands to build the baby a cradle and a nursery room in the cottage. I wanted to help of course but he said that I should not lift a finger until the baby is born.

One night as the fireplace was warming us up through the cold winter’s night, I sat in my rocking chair slowly rocking back and forth as I was knitting clothes for the new baby while softly singing in the softest, warmest voice I could muster about the cycle of life and how blessed we humans could be with what we have and not what we need from Mother Earth and Father Time themselves.

Grace came in a little bit during my song and sat in my lap gently placing her hand against my 4 month baby belly listening to my song. Unaware that Jefferson was watching us and couldn’t help but feel warmth growing inside of him at the sight of his new wife and his daughter together and waiting for the day to hold his new baby boy or girl and be a better father and a better man for his family.

But like all things in life, sometimes happiness doesn’t last forever.

One night I woke up to pain in my stomach, I quickly raced to the bathroom only to see blood staining my dress.

Jefferson immediately woke up to the sound of my cries of heartbreak and when he saw me, he rushed out of the cottage begging for help. Luckily for us we had a doctor close by who helped me clean up and checked up on me.

I had been cleaned up and told I was going to live, however my baby wasn’t so lucky.

I had lost our child. They told me I could always try again but I blocked out all options, and I didn’t want to go through something like this ever again.

Ever since then I’ve been depressed, I refused to eat for weeks on end and refused to sleep. Jefferson and Grace tried to do whatever it took to make me happy and healthy but their attempts failed as I refused to ever smile again.

My happiness was ripped out of me the night I saw my bloodstained dress. And nothing seemed like I was going to get it back.

As I laid there on my bed, a weak attempted sewed up bunny with oddly placed eyes, battered up clothes and weak stitching soon came in my line of vision up on the bed.

“Good day milady, I was wondering if you could point the direction to the Princess’s tea party. I am terribly late you know, and I’d hate for the princess to be upset for my tardiness”. The rabbit said in a funny high pitched voice but I remained silent and still. The rabbit trotted up to me and then stated. “Hey, what’s wrong miss? You look awfully sad, do you want to talk to me about it?” I slowly leaned over to see Jefferson’s body sprawled out against the floor.

That man.

I couldn’t help but faintly smile when the rabbit said.

“There you go, you look more beautiful when you smile Misses, let me hold your finger,” Jefferson’s hands controlled the rabbit’s paws to circle around my index and tall finger and continued, “you shouldn’t feel sad all the time, because your family misses your smile beautiful lady, and I know that they would do anything to see you smile again, especially your husband”.

“Pray tell Mr. Rabbit, how do you know of my husband?”

“He’s an old friend of mine, he happened to have stumbled into my burrow before I came for Princess Grace’s tea party, asked me to come over and speak to you. He’s a good man Misses, and he’d do anything in the world to see you smile again”. Jefferson then lowered the rabbit’s head to my fingers and made a gentle kissing sound.

“Do you happen to know where my husband is at now?”

“Of course, one moment please,” the rabbit then shot down from the bed and slowly peeking over the bed was my husband. My smile widened as I also began giggling softly at his childish acts.

“There’s that beautiful sight and sound I’ve been waiting for,” he then gently laid down beside me cupping my face with his hand wiping away my wet stained tears. “Oh my beautiful (y/n), I know there’s no amount of words I can say that will make you any better, but just know that Grace and I are still here for you. And that you don’t need to suffer through this alone, we can all suffer together because that’s what we are. A family, and if one of us falls, we all fall but we’re right there to pick you up along the way and help them get through the pain.”

He stroked the hair out of my face and gently kissed my forehead sweetly and long. After he separated his lips from my forehead, I looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and whimpered faintly.

“I’m sorry”.

“Oh darling,” he cooed.

“I’m so sorry Jefferson”. I fell against his chest sobbing softly while he immediately wrapped his arms around me and rested against the bed frame tucking me into his lap and cradling me in his arms.

He rubbed my back with his thumbs and allowed my head to rest against his chest so that I could hear his heartbeat as his chin rested against my head. Whimpers, sniffles and choked sobs were all that came out of me while gentle coos, soft shushings and lovingly lullabies came from him as he rocked me gingerly.

I don’t know how lucky I was to have a man like him in my life. And I refuse to lose anyone else as along as I still live.

A few months later, I started feeling a bit better. Slowly adjusting to life once again and trying to forget about the past and move on with the future. Jefferson and Grace have kept me sane and helped me move on from the past. But I’ve started to notice that ever since the Queen’s visit, Jefferson hasn’t been himself lately and I was determined to see to it.

“Jefferson, may I speak to you?”

“Yes of course my darling”. He and I walked into the bedroom and I sat him down on the bed and he asked, “is something wrong my dear?”

“Jefferson, don’t think I haven’t notice your behavior ever since the Queen came here, now I demand you tell me what is going on with you?” Jefferson knowing he refused to hide anything from me anymore, came out and said.

“She’s offered me a new life for you and Grace. I want you both to have everything you need. Please understand my love—”

“Jefferson, aren’t you happy enough with what we’ve already got?”

“I am, but I want it to be better. For you and for Grace”. I shook my head at him chuckling coldly.

“Jefferson, Grace and I don’t care, as long as we have you. And if I were to lose you too I don’t know what would happen to me. I’ve finally got a reason to live thanks to you and Grace, if I were to lose you then Grace would end up alone, because I don’t think I would have the strength to go on without you in my life”.

“No! (Y/n) don’t you ever say that. You are Grace’s new mother, she needs you. Now promise me you’ll take care of her and swear to me that you’ll continue on raising her”.

“Jefferson I—”

“Swear it!” He snapped angrily at me revealing the true madness he secretly contained within him. I took a deep breath then sighed and agreed to our deal.

He held me close and kissed me with such love and passion. When he separated from me, he stroked my teary cheeks and smiled at me softly one last time before taking his hat box and walking out of the door.

For the rest of the day I sat out the front porch waiting for him to be escorted back by the Queen’s guards.

It wasn’t until I had found out that my suspicions were correct as I heard the Queen’s father had returned, instead of my Jefferson.

#jefferson ouat #ouat fanfiction #jefferson x reader #romance #fluff #angst

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ciathyzareposts · 4 years

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Missed Classic: Moonmist – Representation Blues

Written by Joe Pranevich

I intended to wrap up Moonmist this week by closing out on the three remaining cases then moving quickly to the final rating. I did not make it. When playing and reviewing, I try to come to these games as unspoiled as I can. I learn what I need to discuss the history and place the game in context, but I avoid spoiling the plots and puzzles as much as I can. Usually that works, but in this case I missed one of the things that Moonmist is most remembered for: it is (supposedly) the first computer game to feature LGBT characters. I disagree with that assessment, but we’ll get there soon enough. It seems poor form for me to review this game, in Pride Month of all times, without giving space to discuss this important aspect of gaming history.

This week, I’m looking at the “blue” variant of Moonmist, the second one listed in the manual. (I finished “red” last week.) To the best of my knowledge, this is the only version that includes a LGBT-related plotline, but I have not played the others yet. I will take a quick look at LGBT representation in media more broadly into the 1980s and then dive into whether or not this game deserves its spot as the “first”. Of course, I’ll also be playing and solving the mystery itself! I hope that the final two variations don’t have more surprises that lead to hours of research and introspection. Read on for more.

Boston Pride in the mid-1980s.

I am not an expert on LGBT issues in pop culture and I encourage our commenters to tell me all of the details that I am sure to be missing. As a child of the 1980s, I grew up steeped in the stereotypes that pervaded America when this game was written. Jim Lawrence and Stu Galley are older still and grew up with the stereotypes that they picked up from the media of their day. Those attitudes stemmed from even earlier depictions in books and film. Attitudes are far from unchanging, but each successive generation carries a bit of the baggage of the previous.

At least in the United States, one of the ways in which pop culture shaped attitudes towards homosexuality is through the “Hays Code”, or more properly the “Motion Picture Production Code”. That is not to say that discrimination didn’t exist before– that code itself was a product of generational attitudes– but it codified (for film) a set of rules that was followed from the 1930s through the 1960s and persisted even later through the threat of boycotts and self-censorship. Similar codes existed in other media, but it is undeniable that the Hays Code helped to reinforce the way “average” Americans felt about certain issues. This is not limited to homosexuality! These rules banned depictions of inter-racial relationships, criticism of religion, pre-marital sex, and many other things. You could not portray a criminal as sympathetic. You had to show respect for law enforcement. Homosexuality, considered a “sexual perversion”, could be depicted only as a trait of a villain. LGBT characters in these films were murders and sadists brought to justice, or emotionally challenged individuals prone to suicide. Gay character traits became associated with villany. Long after the Hays Code fell out of favor, these tropes remained in use, burned into society’s collective unconscious.

It was Mr. Green with the (suggestive) pipe!

To take one small example, I looked last week at the film Clue and how it may have inspired Moonmist by featuring multiple endings. In that film, Mr. Green is depicted as a gay man who lives in constant fear of being discovered and losing his job at the State Department. This makes him an easy target for extortion. He’s a bumbling fool, although perhaps not much more than others in this comedy-mystery. It is only in the “real” ending of the film that Mr. Green is revealed to be a hero: he’s an undercover FBI agent who was working to expose the crimes of Mr. Boddy and the rest of the houseguests, all of whom had murdered someone over the course of the night. (Communism was a “red herring”!) But in that crowning moment of awesomeness, Mr. Green’s gayness was stripped away. As the police arrest the guests, Green speaks the final line of the film: “OK Chief, take them away! I’m gonna go home and sleep with my wife!” Even forty years later, LGBT representation in media often falls into established patterns. Gay characters are still often driven to suicide. If they don’t do it to themselves, they could be killed by something else, and may be the first in line to be killed in such a way.

I will spoil the ending a bit to say that this Moonmist variant falls right back on these tropes. In the “blue” mystery, Deirdre and Vivien are revealed to have been lovers. Deirdre is bisexual and torn between her love for a man (Lord Jack) and Vivien. Ultimately, she surrenders to suicide by jumping in the well in the basement of the castle. In comic book fashion, Vivien swears revenge on the man that took her love away. It is perhaps progressive by including gay characters at all, but these are the same “murderer” and “suicide” options that were all the rage during the Hays Code days.

I love a good Mac adventure.

After all that, was Moonmist really the first video game to include LGBT characters? Unfortunately not. We already saw one example in this very series! Leather Goddesses of Phobos includes a scene where the player character can choose to have sex with one of the titular Goddesses just before the end of the game. Unique across all of the sexual interactions you can have, this is the only one that is not gendered: the Goddesses are female whether you play as a man or a woman. If you choose to go that route, you can prove that your player character is not only bi-curious, but the villains are bisexual as well. They are still murderers and sadists, of course, fitting the evil gay trope exactly, but the game did come out a few months prior to Moonmist.

Another set of examples come from Europe, admittedly in games that most Americans would not have played. Two games by Froggy Software, written in French, feature gay villains:

Le crime du parking (1985) – In “The Parking Lot Crime”, the villain is a gay drug dealer.

Le mur de Berlin va sauter (1985) – In “The Berlin Wall Will Blow Up”, the villain is a gay terrorist who wants to destroy the Berlin Wall. Maybe he wasn’t all bad?

Not a single one of these games includes a positive depiction of LGBT characters!

To find a positive depiction, we have to turn the clock forward to 1989 and the graphical adventure Caper in the Castro by C. M. Ralph. Following indirectly in the footsteps of ICOM games such as Déjà Vu (1985), it features an on-the-nose detective named Tracker McDyke as she investigates the disappearance of a drag queen friend. She will have to search San Francisco’s famous Castro District, one of the most famous and earliest gay neighbothoods in the country, to solve the case. Ralph released the game to help raise money for AIDS-related charities; she also produced a “straight” variant (Murder on Mainstreet) that she expected would garner wider distribution. Once believed lost, this game has been recovered thanks to the efforts of the Internet Archive and Strong Museum of Play. I have added it to my personal “to play” list and hope to dive into it at some point in the future.

Where were we? Oh right, this is supposed to be a post about Moonmist.

I’m blue da ba dee da ba daa.

Playing the Blues

After finishing the first variant last week, I have no idea how the rest of them will go. Will they be mostly the same? Mostly different? How bored will I get if I must explore everything again? For this version, I’m choosing a female character again (“Ms. Blueish”), but I’ll use a male one and a “not specified” one for the final two just to see what is different. I will not recap everything that happens; please check out the previous two posts if you need a refresher.

After starting the game and picking my color, the game proceeds as before. The first change comes when I ask Tamara about the ghost. She tells me that she saw the ghost again, this time outside the office brandishing a sword. Tamaram fled back inside and locked the door. After a time, the ghost disappeared and was not seen again.

Just as before, Tamara leads me from room to room to introduce me to the guests. Most of the responses are unmemorable, but Vivien’s stand out. Let me quote them in full:

> ask vivien about ghost

She is somber as she replies, “I dare say it was morbid of me but one night I went to the basement, just to try to imagine the horrible scene where poor Deirdre suffered her… tragic accident. Suddenly I heard somebody calling my name softly. I turned ‘round and there was Deirdre herself standing by the stairs! I went absolutely numb! She smiled faintly, then fled up the stairs. I started to follow, but then I knew it was no use. Deirdre is dead and gone, and chasing her ghost won’t bring her back to me.

> ask vivien about Deirdre

The artist shrugs with a sad, wistful smile. “What can I say? Deirdre was a most unusual girl… utterly unworldly… almost fey. She grew up in a cottage not far from here, you know. Her drowning was a terrible tragedy… and yet… sometimes I’m not sure she WANTED to go on living.” She turns her face away to hide a tear.

“Chasing her ghost won’t bring her back to me.” Does that sound like I think it sounds? Were Vivien and Deirdre together!? That would be an amazing twist, if so. We know that Deirdre was engaged to Jack in all of the versions since it is in the manual text. Was she only with Jack to hide a secret love affair? Or was this something simpler, like a childhood dalliance? And how could a socialite like Deirdre even meet a poor woman that grew up in a nearby cottage? Perhaps her art inspired her to fraternize with the locals? It seems like they would have had quite different social circles.

Something like this?

We are eventually brought to our room to freshen up. Just as before, Bolitho, the butler, stops by for a chat. He also spied the White Lady in this version, except now she was in the New Great Hall and searching on the floor like she needed glasses! The butler also seems to be hinting about how to open the secret passage in my room. The language is exactly the same as before, but I suspect that I just didn’t catch on until I learned more about how the passages work. A nice little detail!

I dress and head downstairs for dinner. I get there a few minutes early so I have time to search the New Great Hall on the way. Somehow managing to remain untrampled, I discover a contact lens on the floor. The ghost really did need glasses! Who could it belong to?

The dinner party proceeds as before with the butler leaving a note about the staff leaving, Jack announcing his engagement, and Lionel’s recorded voice from beyond the grave surprising his guests with a “scavenger hunt”. The first clue is still hidden under the punch bowl, but this time it is a picture of a skeleton in a Chinese Mandarian costume. What could that mean? The second clue is given to Jack this time and it is a rhyming poem with some words missing:

Three fellows argued about life:

1. ‘Using this motto, no chap can go wrong:

Leave the wench and the grape, and go with a _____!

2. ‘On the seas of my life is a ship that is laden

Not with bottles or tunes, but with innocent ____s!

3. ‘Women and singing are both very fine,

But for me there is nothing to equal good _____!

The answers are simple, especially since the topics are reiterated in all three stanzas: “song”, “maiden”, and “wine”. Thanks to my exploration last time, I know there is a wine cellar in the basement, an iron maiden in the dungeon, and a piano in the sitting room. Plaything through multiple times has advantages!

Since everyone is together, I ask about glasses and the lost contact lens. Would anyone be dumb enough to admit it? Dr. Wendish wears glasses but says that he cannot stand contacts. Hyde wears a monocle. Vivien claims that she cannot tolerate contacts but wears glasses for close-up work in her art. No immediate clues there.

The party moves to the sitting room. I grab the maid’s note off the desk and it’s the same as before but ends with a strange warning:

Me Dad always says that the first sign of a nut case is when a person starts talking to hisself. Well, if you was to ask me, there is more than ne way to talk to himself. Some does it on paper, and that is the type person to watch out for.

I still hate the face accented speech. I also have no idea what this means, except that I should be on the lookout for a villain that leaves Post-Its around the mansion documenting his or her crimes.

Armor or Armour? You decide.

Since I am here, I check the piano. Instead of music from A Prairie Home Companion, the piano now has Beethoven’s Suite #9 ready to be played. Someone has circled the “SUIT” in the title. That must be a clue! I immediately check the suit of armor in the hall and am rewarded with yet another clue. This is going very quickly! Unfortunately, it isn’t quite as self-explanatory as the others:

My al___ has no glamour;

Its ‘___e’ tones do clam___.

Can you find me?

I have no idea what that means so I head down to the wine cellar instead. As expected, I locate a bottle of wine with “OUR” circled on the label. I get cocky and guess that the iron maiden will have an “ARM” label on it someplace, but I am disappointed. Two out of three isn’t bad! I’m certain that the clue is just telling me to search the armor, so it is no longer necessary. While exploring, I notice that this time it is Vivien and not Jack who is scouring the house for treasure. Jack is content to let someone else find his family’s priceless heirloom? I still do not understand the rules of this scavenger hunt.

It takes only a few minutes of searching to discover a fossil skill hidden in the bell on the roof of the castle. My hint was that the word “clamour” would have rhymed with “glamour” and that was the only clamorous object I could remember. I have no idea what the other blanks are supposed to mean, but it hardly seems to matter now.

A fancy contact lens case from the 1980s.

It’s only 9:45 PM! I am making excellent time through the game, but I still need to figure out who the ghost is. With Vivien busy searching the castle, I sneak into her room and search. Inside her art supply box, I discover a contact lens case with a missing contact. Score! Vivien is the ghost, but why? I grab the box and show it to her, but she claims that I planted it in her room to frame her. I try a more direct approach by hiding in the secret passages until the ghost appears. That worked last time and it works again! This time, the White Lady appears armed with a blowgun. I quickly fire the butler’s aerosol can at her and she falls to the floor unconscious. I search her to confirm that yes, it is Vivien. Worse, her blowgun contained a real poisoned dart. She was out to kill someone tonight… but who?

I wake Vivien but instead of admitting it all, she sort of sleepwalks to her room. What was in that spray? Once there, she still doesn’t admit anything. I show her the ghost costume and she accuses me of planting it! I just caught you in the secret passage! The nerve of some people.

The step that I missed ends up being simple: if I had looked in Vivien’s art supply box again after removing the contact lens case, I would have discovered her diary. Reading that reveals a tear-stained page:

O Deirdre, sweet Deirdre! Jack will pay dearly for your cruel death by losing his new sweetheart…

That gives us our motive and we can finally accuse her of being the ghost. Bolitho appears and takes her away. The narrator reveals what really happened:

Vivien was intensely attached to Deirdre, and she jealously hated Lord Jack for coming between them. When Deirdre accidentally fell down the well, Vivien was convinced that she had committed suicide because she felt abandoned by Jack.

So Vivien began her vengeful ghostly masquerade — to find proof that Jack was responsible for Deirdre’s death, to prick his guilty conscience and make him confess, and to terrorize Tamara, who replaced Deirdre in Jack’s affections.

This time around, Vivien didn’t actually kill anyone. Deirdre’s death was an accident rather than a suicide– although I’m not sure I believe that– and Vivien wanted revenge on Jack for it. It’s all rather complicated. It also means that the maid must have read her diary which also just comes off as creepy, although not as creepy as dressing in a glow-in-the-dark ghost costume. (Yes, you can use it as a light source!) In this version, either Lionel’s death was natural or Jack was much better about hiding it.

It actually doesn’t seem impossible that, other than the ghost, the stories aren’t mutually exclusive. Jack could still have killed Lionel and Deirdre, just as in the “red” version, but this time Deirdre is either really dead or has no interest in coming back to either of her two lovers. Will the rest of the cases fit together as well? We’ll have to play them to see.

With luck, next week will really be the Final Rating. Thanks for humoring me through this special look at the “blue” version. Happy Pride!

Time Played: 1 hr 20 min Total Time: 6 hr 45 min

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-moonmist-representation-blues/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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anneedmonsonus · 5 years

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The Hilton Fibro Cottage Renovation

I love this house. This is the former home of our friends Tim and Caity Phillips, it’s a cool renovation and a house that I like because it suits its owners down to a tee. You guys may already know Tim’s name from some of my earlier posts; he and his TJP Carpentry team put up the cladding as part of our Scyon Walls makeover, and they also recently completed our new deck. It was actually through House Nerd that I met Tim and Caity; I got Tim’s name from a House Nerd reader who recommended him as a carpenter years ago, and completely by chance we were looking for a carpenter that week – and it randomly turned out Caity already followed my blog! Now we’re lucky to call Tim and Caity friends. Little Nerd in particular worships them with the kind of awed reverence Mr Nerd and I only dream of attaining.

The first time I visited Tim and Caity’s house was when they opened up their backyard for a gig as part of Parlour Gigs, an initiative where people can host musicians to play in their homes. With their huge oak tree and deck, it was an awesome setting for live music and I fell in love with the house as a whole. I could 100 percent see why they were sad to sell it (and yes they sold it not long after we did our shoot – more on that later!)

GREEN ENVY: Plants at every corner pay homage to the home’s roots – the house was rumoured to have once been used as a plant nursery. Photos by Heather Robbins.

I feel like I have to pop in a disclaimer here, because we all know I am a terrible blogger but this is particularly embarrassing. Heather (Robbins) and I shot this home AGES ago, just before Tim and Caity put it on the market… at the end of 2017, I believe. WHAT THE. Insert monkey emoji covering his eyes. In my defense, we had a limited amount of time to shoot the house quickly before Caity and Tim styled it to sell, because I just knew a house like theirs would be snatched up quickly (and it was – it spent only two weeks on the market before the Phillips accepted an offer).

Shortly after Heather and I visited, I got pregnant and spent the next ten months throwing up as fun, unsponsored posts like this one took a backseat for a while, as pretty much all my energy went towards doing the bare minimum of sponsored posts to get me through. Obviously I have no qualms about doing sponsored content, but home tours like these (and personal ramblings) are still the stories I love to share the most. That said, they’re also the ones I tend to put the most into. Whenever a house like this crosses my path, I feel this funny sense to ‘do it justice’ and to write it as best as I can. And when the owners are my friends, or when I meet them and they turn out to be people I really like (which, if I’m honest, tends to be pretty much all of them) then I feel this even greater need to put together something I hope they’ll be proud of.

I can’t even say this is just a House Nerd thing; I was this obsessive back when I just used to write features for the paper and magazines. I’d spend WAY more time and energy on the stories of the houses I loved (and the home owners I liked) than the ones that I was indifferent to, which I could dash off and shoot through to my editor in half an hour. The downfall of the overcommitted, procrastinating perfectionist, people. Sometimes it feels like a fault; like everything I do must be my full effort or I feel dissatisfied. I don’t even think it’s about trying to do something ‘perfectly’, it is just about effort. I can’t do anything half-arsed. I must put full arse into everything. That sounded wrong and will probably bring me some unsavoury SEO. (2019 New Year’s Resolution – stop being weird. Finish what I have in my folders before enthusiastically committing myself to more and more and more like I’m still a-20-something-uni-student-with-no-kids).

Anyway – back to the story. Tim and Caity met years ago through mutual friends – Caity was best friends with the drummer of Tim’s band (“We had a real love-hate relationship in the beginning,” says Caity, but the thought seems laughable now; they are one of the best-suited couples we know) and were living in a share house in Attadale. They had just returned from four months travelling through Europe when they decided to start looking for a place of their own, feeling like it was time to have their own space. Initially they were looking to rent before realising it would actually be cheaper to buy. “We’d originally been looking at renting,” says Tim. “But it was peak time on the rental market and we were really struggling to find anything that we liked without paying a huge amount every week- so much so that we realised it would just about be cheaper for us to buy our own place and pay a mortgage. We had a broad area we liked but kind of fell in love with Hilton and honed the search in here.” They bought their house in May 2014.

Hilton was designed under the state government’s post World War II ‘garden suburbs’ initiative, with single homes on larger blocks and wide verges, and the suburb has no shortage of timber and timber-framed cottages; one of its attractions for Tim and Caity. “As Tim is a carpenter, we loved the idea of a timber frame house that we could easily work on, along with plenty of trees and room for a dog,” says Caity.

BEFORE

AFTER

BEFORE

AFTER.“Our favourite paint colour is Dulux Lexicon,” says Caity of the white they chose for both inside and outside. “We’ve used it on practically everything and love how bright and calming it is. We made a bold choice in choosing gloss black for our architraves but think it really paid off. The architraves and black door handles become such a great focus point now.” Photos by Heather Robbins.

BEFORE

AFTER

BEFORE

AFTER

BEFORE

AFTER

BEFORE

AFTER. “The house is really small at just 120sqm but it’s on a 640sqm block so we have a lot of external living space,” says Caity. Photos by Heather Robbins.

The home they ended up buying was a 1950s fibro cottage with jarrah floorboards. A previous owner had clad the fibro exterior in cedar weatherboards, and although the house was looking worn, Tim and Caity knew it could come up a treat. Inside, every room was a different colour. “There was avocado green, lemon yellow, pink, purple and maroon,” Caity remembers. “We never really loved the look of the house but we fell in love with the feeling we got from it. After we moved in we wondered what we had got ourselves into.”

Over the next three years they painstakingly worked on and off on every room, with the older house throwing up some fun curveballs. “From the get go we had to repair things we weren’t expecting,” says Caity. “We had to gut the entire master bedroom, because the false ceiling was falling down, and then found the original ceiling above it was falling down too. We also found quite a few roof leaks in our first winter. We remember coming home one day to practically find a waterfall in our spare bedroom.”

SCYON CLADDING: A previous owner had overclad the original fibro cottage with cedar weatherboards. Tim and Caity restored some of these and painted them white, but at the front of the house they replaced the whole front with Scyon Linea cladding. Photos by Heather Robbins.

The shabby external cedar weatherboards were restored and painted white, and Tim and Caity replaced the whole front of the house with new Scyon Linea boards. The old original veranda had at one stage been turned into additional space and a bedroom, so Tim and Caity extended the front to create a new veranda with timber decking and a paneled ceiling, where Tim added skylights. For the garden they called in the help of friends, Moloney Gardens, who put in lawns and reticulation, while other friends Fozlek Electrical helped out too.

Quaint is a good way to describe this house, where walls are wonky and the old jarrah floor in the front bedroom (originally a veranda, see below) isn’t quite level. “We’re pretty sure there isn’t a single straight wall in the house!” laughs Caity. But somehow things like this just add to the home’s charm.

“Our records are currently stored in a vintage buffet unit that my dad picked up at Vinnies for $5,” says Caity. “He’s since passed away, so even though it’s practically falling apart, we can’t bring ourselves to get rid of it. He also made the shell lamp that is in our lounge room. When he passed, it was the one thing of his that I really, really wanted to have.” Photos by Heather Robbins.

Tim says the part of the renovation they were most happy with would be the kitchen. “It was an IKEA kitchen put in by the previous owners. Cream cupboards and a tiny round sink. We swapped the door fronts to gloss white, made up some matte black panels, a cupboard over the fridge and put on black handles and a bigger black sink. It completely changed the feel of the house in one weekend and at a minimal cost too.” Photos by Heather Robbins.

Being just five minutes from the beach, where they take their kelpies, Mabel and Tiger, each morning, Tim and Caity wanted to give the house a coastal-inspired ambience. “We love the beach, so we wanted that sort of carefree vibe, but still keeping it basic with a monochrome palette,” says Caity. “We used a lot of jarrah and greenery to add colour.” Another thing I love about Tim and Caity’s style is their confident use of black. I am a big believer in the adage that every interior needs a touch of black, and they’ve used it in unexpected ways like with black gloss on the doorframes, making them a feature with new doors in a VJ style.

Both work long hours (they say that recently making the decision to get a cleaner in on Fridays was the best idea they’ve had in a long time!) Caity works for MRL, Tim plays football on top of running TJP Carpentry, and Caity used to own a shop and coffee hub in Fremantle, Calypso Warehouse. So home is about relaxing (or trying to, in between demolition work and renovations). “We are both pretty busy people, so when we come home we want to be able to relax and feel like we’re on holiday,” says Caity. “We find that our house is often influenced by our travels. A trip to New York led us to select more industrial, warehouse kind of furniture while a trip to Bali led us to choose more soft furnishings and tropical plants. We pick up a lot of our little bits and pieces from vintage shops. We don’t specifically seek out these things; we just stumble upon them and feel like they fit.”

AFTER

They share a similar design aesthetic (although one difference is that Tim is tidy, Caity is not!) “Our styles are pretty much the same,” says Tim. “The only real compromise we’ve had to make is that I wanted a custom-built kitchen and Caity was happy to just replace the fronts on the IKEA kitchen that was already there. We compromised by keeping the layout, using IKEA drawer and cupboard fronts and then I built some custom cabinets and put in custom-made side panels.” “It actually worked out really well!” says Caity. “We couldn’t have been happier with the result.”

Tim’s carpentry work is at every corner – he made the plumbing part shelving in the study corner and the drawer unit in the kitchen, one of the first things he built in the house. “He’d already designed the overall look so my contribution was the white leather tab handles,” says Caity. “We then copied that exact style for our floating TV unit which completely opened up the lounge room space. There’s a hall table in the spare bedroom that Tim made as well. We always try to use recycled jarrah and other woods to minimise on costs and waste.”

She and Tim are two of the most social people I know, and entertained here often. “Entertaining is our favourite thing to do,” says Caity. “We’ve had countless parties and even hosted a live music gig. We love being surrounded by our family and friends.”

The gig they mention was the night they hosted under the Parlour Gigs banner, the first time I visited their house – and I remember then thinking their house had such a warm feel to it. They rushed through another stage of renovations for the gig, adding a small deck beneath the oak tree which worked as a stage and also an external powder room (in the space of a week!)

HILTON LOVE: “We love this area – being so close to the beach and the cafes in South Freo,” says Caity. “We spend most of our Sunday nights at the Local Hotel and love café-hopping for breakfasts on a Sunday morning. Hilton is so full of trees so it almost has a bush kind of vibe to it.” Photos by Heather Robbins.

FAVOURITE ROOM: Overlooking the spectacular oak tree, the back deck is their favourite part of the house. “Our oak tree covers almost the whole backyard so it’s really nice and cool in summer and then allows the back deck to be flooded with sun in the winter,” says Caity. “Our lounge room is so beautiful and cosy in winter too.” Photos by Heather Robbins.

And then… right as they finished renovations (and as so often happens) Tim and Caity decided to sell! They were sad at the thought of leaving as they love this house, but had gotten some good advice from a friend on the real estate market and decided to take the plunge and put it on the market. They accepted an offer within just two weeks. Then they went on a big trip to the States and South America and eloped in a hot air balloon in Vegas, as you do.

When they got home they threw a wedding party and promptly jumped into renovating their next buy – this one a quaint 1960s brick cottage. “It was owned by a little Italian nonna and papa I imagine,” says Caity. “The shower curtain rail comes up to my chin!” Suffice to say, it needs a lot of modernising. Their plan is to renovate this cottage and subdivide the big block and build on the back of it. You can follow along their progress at Caity’s Instagram @what.caity.did.next I’m sure I’ll do a shoot of this house in 2020, and probably write about it in 2028. Stay tuned. Maya x

HOME LOWDOWN

THE OWNERS

Tim and Caity Phillips and their two dogs, black and tan kelpie Tiger and red cloud kelpie Mabel

THEIR HOME

A fully renovated 1950s fibro cottage, since clad in weatherboards and Scyon

LOCATION

Hilton, Western Australia

PURCHASED

2014

THE BUILDER AND DESIGNER

Tim and Caity designed the interiors and did all the work themselves. Tim runs his own carpentry business, TJP Carpentry

FEATURES

Main suite with parents retreat, two minor bedrooms, open-plan kitchen, living and dining, study, workshop, bathroom, external powder room

SUPPLIERS AND TRADES

TJP Carpentry (Tim’s business) Scyon Walls Dulux Fozlek Electrical Moloney Gardens for reticulation and lawn

PHOTOGRAPHY

Heather Robbins of Heather Robbins Photography

The post The Hilton Fibro Cottage Renovation appeared first on House Nerd.

from Home Improvement https://house-nerd.com/2019/01/03/hilton-fibro-cottage/

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gleasonfamilyadventure · 6 years

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What’s a wife to do when her husband says. “Let’s go on an adventure to Maine! Can you be ready in 4 hours?” Of course I say, “Yes, but I’ll need more than 4 hours.” Being the miracle packer that I am, I had us ready in about 6 hours and headed out when the sun broke the sky the next morning. We had the general idea of heading to Acadia National Park and meandering our way home. The amazing thing about winging a vacation is that you never know where you’ll end up or where you will stay. It brings about a true sense of adventure. (sometimes anxiety on my part because I am a natural planner, it breaks down my grip on control and helps me just trust that it’s all going to work out.)

The trip there was LONG, a mere 16 hours. We stopped in Springfield, MA for the night where we stayed at the Sheraton Monarch Place. It was just ok. It was pretty far off the freeway and in the downtown area, I would probably NOT stay there again. As with any LONG trip we were up again traveling. Dunkin’ Donuts coffee was to the rescue for us.

We found some great places to stretch our legs as we traveled. My favorite stop was at the Portland Head Light. We were just driving along the coast and looking for a place to picnic when I saw the sign off the road about this location. The weather on this whole trip was FOGGY and so it was really amazing to pull into the parking lot and look for the lighthouse and barely be able to see it. You “GET IT” about needing lighthouses on days like that! There was ample parking and plenty places to picnic. There were also food trucks available with lobster rolls and ice cream. This was a great stop and we really enjoyed the up close and personal views of the lighthouse.

This was still considered a travel day as we were trying to make it to the Acadia National Park area BUT who can go to Maine and not head to Freeport,ME and shop at the L.L. Bean Outlet? Heck, we knew if stopped we would not make it to our destination until the sun had set but we had to go. It was totally worth it! I learned how L.L.Bean supports and helps so much in the environmental areas of the state. I really feel buying from L.L.Bean is like spending money to get what I want and to support environmental issues! Thanks L.L. Bean!

Abbie, our T1d, was not feeling the best after our stop at the outlet stores and began to slowly have a diabetic crash. It was the kind that ruins a day (the week actually) , makes everyone stop and remember that she really does live with a terrible, life threatening illness. She was unable to speak, feel her hands and there seemed to be NOTHING we could do to get her blood sugar levels up. We found a nearby exit that had a hospital and sat at a Friendly’s parking lot watching to see if we could get some positive glucose response. Thankfully, I was able to speak to her doctor and we got a slow trend upwards. That took 2 hours out of our travel northwards but I’d stop the world to help my girl!

If you’ve read this far you know we had no lodging plans. Uh, we stopped at a lighthouse, outlet stores and had a major diabetic crash, it’s probably a good thing we were winging it! I got on my KOA app and found the KOA Woodlands. They had a glamping cabin available and I snagged it! We were dead tired when we made it to the KOA and honestly, I was nervous about booking something I had never seen or stayed in. We had no idea what to expect. IT WAS AWESOME!! Seriously, I was so happy with it.

We walked into a screened in porch with a picnic table. The tent had heavy duty Velcro and a zipper to enter into the living space. The floors are made of wood and the tent was canvas. It was set up with a master bedroom, bunk room and living room area. There was plenty of space for the family to spread out and get much needed breathing room away from each other after the 2 long travel days! The only thing this glamping tent lacked was a bathroom but even that was just short walk away. BONUS feature: the Kerig coffee maker!! I would recommend this KOA style of glamping.

The next morning was Acadia National Park! We were so excited to finally make it to this destination. Due to how much I have to say about Acadia I am writing a separate blog about it and you can read that here. Acadia National Park

Abbie struggled with T1d lows our whole time in Acadia NP and sadly was unable to any of the “hiking” trails. It was a real downer. She told me I should crowd fund her way back there so she could actually enjoy all the facets of it.

Bar Harbor, ME has sooooo much you could do and enjoy. We are the outdoor, adventurous types so we left those things for others to do, but there is whale watching, boat rides, and shopping on the quaint streets. If we would have had more time in the area we would have certainly enjoyed trying out some of those things. (I really wanted to whale watch but the tours were full because the prior day was cancelled due to weather.)

**ONE THING YOU HAVE TO DO IN BAR HARBOR! ** You MUST go out and explore the tide pools at low tide. If you park on West Street and walk out on Bridge Street you can access the sand bar. REMEMBER, YOU CAN ONLY DO THIS AT LOW TIDE. You can walk out to the island and wade in the pools using the sandbar.

We were on a mission to find some starfish. We are from Ohio and had no idea what to look for, so prior to going we asked some park rangers how to find sea life. The ranger told us to wade out to at least our ankles/mid-calf and lift up the rocks and look under them. It took us awhile but we found one!! This was a highlight of our trip!

Who can go to Maine and not have some lobster? Maine lobster is certainly something you have to try when you are in Bar Harbor, Maine! We had it two times while we were there. The first time we tried it, we ate at Peekytoe Provisions. I can’t recommend this location to you. The food was just ok and expensive for what you got. The service was marginal and the atmosphere was cafe’ style. It was very disappointing.

Our second time was JUST YUM! Down East Lobster Pound was a perfect spot to grab some lobster. We got 2 lobsters, corn on the cob and slaw for $19.99. I did ask them about the price and it is MKT PRICED daily so call before you go if you want the current market price. The family has been in business for quite sometime and they are willing to share their knowledge with you. We asked them tons of questions about lobsters and crabs and they were willing to give us all the skinny on the how and why of lobster fishing. A++ service and friendliness.

We were sad to be leaving the Acadia NP area but we had the notion to hit Niagara Falls before we got home soooo we had to start that meandering home thing.

Honestly, we got onto the road as said, “Shall we take the coastal road or the main freeway?” We opted for Route 1 down the coast. Since we had no plans and were just road tripping, we took our time cruising down the coast checking out the sights. We came to this point in the road where we were crossing a LARGE suspension bridge. Curiously we were taking in all the parts about it, thinking WOW this is in the middle of NO WHERE and it’s amazing! As we crossed the bridge we saw a sign about Fort Knox and decided, “Hey, lets stop and check it out!”

Penobscot narrows bridge and observatory and Fort Knox is a MUST STOP for any family! We love history and this was just the place to give us that history fix we needed. The bridge in and of itself is amazing, and is taller than Lady Liberty! They have an elevator that takes you to the top where you get spectacular views of Maine.

Fort Knox Historic Site is full of nooks and neat historical things to see. It has amazing architecture and the structure is massive. I was really intrigued about the Hot Shot Furnace, while this one was never used I learned about how these were utilized in the protection of territory. This was one of the best forts I have explored in awhile and it was really fun to be able to check it out. I ALWAYS give a good scare to one of the kids if I can in old spooky forts! Lord, please forgive me.

Every night since we left we had no idea where we were going to be staying and this night was no different. We had spent A LONG time at the Bridge and Fort and time was ticking. It dawned on me that it was a Friday night in Maine during high tourist season. I quickly started to google and map out some locations we could stop and would you believe we found a cottage by the sea? Yeah, me either! It was not the cheapest night we had on the trip but it was a lovely stop.

Colonial Gables Cottages in Belfast, ME, were just a wonderful place to rest after all our adventuring in Acadia NP and the fort area. We were able to kick back and use a full kitchen, shower in a bathroom INSIDE our cottage, and sip coffee on the porch while we watched the fog roll in and out. I can’t tell you how refreshing this stop and stay was at this property. While it is not the Ritz Carlton, it is clean, updated and relaxing. Heather at the front desk was informative and helpful about the area and gave us some great tips for our evening. Sometimes those little mom and pop places can be just what your road weary traveling soul needs.

After our restful night and hearty breakfast cooked on a real stove we loaded up and headed to Niagara Falls and Canada! We were sad to say good-bye to Maine and all the beauty and adventure we had there. I am certain we will return to this WONDERFUL state where adventure can be had on every corner! #visitmaine

You can read about Niagara Fall here and how the rest of the trip went!

Happy Adventuring,

Brandy

Maine Adventure : Acadia National Park and the Maine Coast What's a wife to do when her husband says. "Let's go on an adventure to Maine! Can you be ready in 4 hours?" Of course I say, "Yes, but I'll need more than 4 hours." Being the miracle packer that I am, I had us ready in about 6 hours and headed out when the sun broke the sky the next morning.

#adventure #climbing #diabetes #family #Family vacation #hiking #history #homeschool #homeschooling #light house #maine #National Parks #travel

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY

12 September. - How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers. He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not dread being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep without fear. I shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late, the pain of sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. Well, here I am tonight, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the play, with`virgin crants and maiden strewments.' I never liked garlic before, but tonight it is delightful! There is peace in its smell. I feel sleep coming already. Goodnight, everybody. DR. SEWARD'S DIARY 13 September. - Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as usual, up to time. The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting. The Professor took his bag, which he always brings with him now. Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at Hillingham at eight o'clock. It was a lovely morning. The bright sunshine and all the fresh feeling of early autumn seemed like the completion of nature's annual work. The leaves were turning to all kinds of beautiful colors, but had not yet begun to drop from the trees. When we entered we met Mrs. Westenra coming out of the morning room. She is always an early riser. She greeted us warmly and said, "You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child is still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go in, lest I should disturb her." The Professor smiled, and looked quite jubilant. He rubbed his hands together, and said, "Aha! I thought I had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working." To which she replied, "You must not take all the credit to yourself, doctor. Lucy's state this morning is due in part to me." "How do you mean, ma'am?" asked the Professor. "Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into her room. She was sleeping soundly, so soundly that even my coming did not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There were a lot of those horrible, strong-smelling flowers about everywhere, and she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I feared that the heavy odor would be too much for the dear child in her weak state, so I took them all away and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with her, I am sure." She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted early. As she had spoken, I watched the Professor's face, and saw it turn ashen gray. He had been able to retain his self-command whilst the poor lady was present, for he knew her state and how mischievous a shock would be. He actually smiled on her as he held open the door for her to pass into her room. But the instant she had disappeared he pulled me, suddenly and forcibly, into the dining room and closed the door. Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down. He raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair, and then beat his palms together in a helpless way. Finally he sat down on a chair, and putting his hands before his face, began to sob, with loud, dry sobs that seemed to come from the very racking of his heart. Then he raised his arms again, as though appealing to the whole universe. "God! God! God!" he said. "What have we done, what has this poor thing done, that we are so sore beset? Is there fate amongst us still, send down from the pagan world of old, that such things must be, and in such way? This poor mother, all unknowing, and all for the best as she think, does such thing as lose her daughter body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not even warn her, or she die, then both die. Oh, how we are beset! How are all the powers of the devils against us!" Suddenly he jumped to his feet. "Come," he said."come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not. We must fight him all the same." He went to the hall door for his bag, and together we went up to Lucy's room. Once again I drew up the blind, whilst Van Helsing went towards the bed. This time he did not start as he looked on the poor face with the same awful, waxen pallor as before. He wore a look of stern sadness and infinite pity. "As I expected," he murmured, with that hissing inspiration of his which meant so much. Without a word he went and locked the door, and then began to set out on the little table the instruments for yet another operation of transfusion of blood. I had long ago recognized the necessity, and begun to take off my coat, but he stopped me with a warning hand. "No!" he said. "Today you must operate. I shall provide. You are weakened already." As he spoke he took off his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeve. Again the operation. Again the narcotic. Again some return of color to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy sleep. This time I watched whilst Van Helsing recruited himself and rested. Presently he took an opportunity of telling Mrs. Westenra that she must not remove anything from Lucy's room without consulting him. That the flowers were of medicinal value, and that the breathing of their odor was a part of the system of cure. Then he took over the care of the case himself, saying that he would watch this night and the next, and would send me word when to come. After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal. What does it all mean? I am beginning to wonder if my long habit of life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own brain. LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY 17 September. - Four days and nights of peace. I am getting so strong again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed through some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me. I have a dim half remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing, darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present distress more poignant. And then long spells of oblivion, and the rising back to life as a diver coming up through a great press of water. Since, however, Dr. Van Helsing has been with me, all this bad dreaming seems to have passed away. The noises that used to frighten me out of my wits, the flapping against the windows, the distant voices which seemed so close to me, the harsh sounds that came from I know not where and commanded me to do I know not what, have all ceased. I go to bed now without any fear of sleep. I do not even try to keep awake. I have grown quite fond of the garlic, and a boxful arrives for me every day from Haarlem. Tonight Dr. Van Helsing is going away, as he has to be for a day in Amsterdam. But I need not be watched. I am well enough to be left alone. Thank God for Mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our friends who have been so kind! I shall not even feel the change, for last night Dr. Van Helsing slept in his chair a lot of the time. I found him asleep twice when I awoke. But I did not fear to go to sleep again, although the boughs or bats or something flapped almost angrily against the window panes. THE PALL MALL GAZETTE 18 September. THE ESCAPED WOLF PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF OUR INTERVIEWER INTERVIEW WITH THE KEEPER IN THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS After many inquiries and almost as many refusals, and perpetually using the words `PALL MALL GAZETTE ' as a sort of talisman, I managed to find the keeper of the section of the Zoological Gardens in which the wold department is included. Thomas Bilder lives in one of the cottages in the enclosure behind the elephant house, and was just sitting down to his tea when I found him. Thomas and his wife are hospitable folk, elderly, and without children, and if the specimen I enjoyed of their hospitality be of the average kind, their lives must be pretty comfortable. The keeper would not enter on what he called business until the supper was over, and we were all satisfied. Then when the table was cleared, and he had lit his pipe, he said, "Now, Sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You'll excoose me refoosin' to talk of perfeshunal subjucts afore meals. I gives the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their tea afore I begins to arsk them questions." "How do you mean, ask them questions?" I queried, wishful to get him into a talkative humor. " `Ittin' of them over the `ead with a pole is one way. Scratchin' of their ears in another, when gents as is flush wants a bit of a show-orf to their gals. I don't so much mind the fust, the `ittin of the pole part afore I chucks in their dinner, but I waits till they've `ad their sherry and kawffee, so to speak, afore I tries on with the ear scratchin'. Mind you," he added philosophically, "there's a deal of the same nature in us as in them theer animiles. Here's you a-comin' and arskin' of me questions about my business, and I that grump-like that only for your bloomin' `arf-quid I'd `a' seen you blowed fust `fore I'd answer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic like if I'd like you to arsk the Superintendent if you might arsk me questions. Without offence did I tell yer to go to `ell?" "You did." "An' when you said you'd report me for usin' obscene language that was `ittin' me over the `ead. But the `arf-quid made that all right. I weren't a-goin' to fight, so I waited for the food, and did with my `owl as the wolves and lions and tigers does. But, lor' love yer `art, now that the old `ooman has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me, an' rinsed me out with her bloomin' old teapot, and I've lit hup, you may scratch my ears for all you're worth, and won't even get a growl out of me. Drive along with your questions. I know what yer a-comin' at, that `ere escaped wolf." "Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Just tell me how it happened, and when I know the facts I'll get you to say what you consider was the cause of it, and how you think the whole affair will end." "All right, guv'nor. This `ere is about the `ole story. That`ere wolf what we called Bersicker was one of three gray ones that came from Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought off him four years ago. He was a nice well-behaved wolf, that never gave no trouble to talk of. I'm more surprised at `im for wantin' to get out nor any other animile in the place. But, there, you can't trust wolves no more nor women." "Don't you mind him, Sir!" broke in Mrs. Tom, with a cheery laugh. " `E's got mindin' the animiles so long that blest if he ain't like a old wolf `isself! But there ain't no `arm in `im." "Well, Sir, it was about two hours after feedin' yesterday when I first hear my disturbance. I was makin' up a litter in the monkey house for a young puma which is ill. But when I heard the yelpin' and `owlin' I kem away straight. There was Bersicker a-tearin' like a mad thing at the bars as if he wanted to get out. There wasn't much people about that day, and close at hand was only one man, a tall, thin chap, with a `ook nose and a pointed beard, with a few white hairs runnin' through it. He had a `ard, cold look and red eyes, and I took a sort of mislike to him, for it seemed as if it was `im as they was hirritated at. He `ad white kid gloves on `is `ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says, `Keeper, these wolves seem upset at something.' "`Maybe it's you,' says I, for I did not like the airs as he give `isself. He didn't get angry, as I `oped he would, but he smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, sharp teeth. `Oh no, they wouldn't like me,' `e says. " `Ow yes, they would,' says I, a-imitatin'of him.`They always like a bone or two to clean their teeth on about tea time, which you `as a bagful.' "Well, it was a odd thing, but when the animiles see us a-talkin' they lay down, and when I went over to Bersicker he let me stroke his ears same as ever. That there man kem over, and blessed but if he didn't put in his hand and stroke the old wolf's ears too! " `Tyke care,' says I. `Bersicker is quick.' " `Never mind,' he says. I'm used to `em!' " `Are you in the business yourself?" I says, tyking off my `at, for a man what trades in wolves, anceterer, is a good friend to keepers. " `Nom' says he, `not exactly in the business, but I `ave made pets of several.' and with that he lifts his `at as perlite as a lord, and walks away. Old Bersicker kep' a-lookin' arter `im till `e was out of sight, and then went and lay down in a corner and wouldn't come hout the `ole hevening. Well, larst night, so soon as the moon was hup, the wolves here all began a-`owling. There warn't nothing for them to `owl at. There warn't no one near, except some one that was evidently a-callin' a dog somewheres out back of the gardings in the Park road. Once or twice I went out to see that all was right, and it was, and then the `owling stopped. Just before twelve o'clock I just took a look round afore turnin' in, an', bust me, but when I kem opposite to old Bersicker's cage I see the rails broken and twisted about and the cage empty. And that's all I know for certing." "Did any one else see anything?" "One of our gard`ners was a-comin' `ome about that time from a `armony, when he sees a big gray dog comin' out through the garding `edges. At least, so he says, but I don't give much for it myself, for if he did `e never said a word about it to his missis when `e got `ome, and it was only after the escape of the wolf was made known, and we had been up all night a-huntin' of the Park for Bersicker, that he remembered seein' anything. My own belief was that the `armony `ad got into his `ead." "Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for the escape of the wolf?" "Well, Sir," he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty, "I think I can, but I don't know as `ow you'd be satisfied with the theory." "Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the animals from experience, can't hazard a good guess at any rate, who is even to try?" "well then, Sir, I accounts for it this way. It seems to me that `ere wolf escaped - simply because he wanted to get out." From the hearty way that both Thomas and his wife laughed at the joke I could see that it had done service before, and that the whole explanation was simply an elaborate sell. I couldn't cope in badinage with the worthy Thomas, but I thought I knew a surer way to his heart, so I said, "Now, Mr. Bilder, we'll consider that first half-sovereign worked off, and this brother of his is waiting to be claimed when you've told me what you think will happen." "Right y`are, Sir," he said briskly. "Ye`ll excoose me, I know, for a-chaffin' of ye, but the old woman her winked at me, which was as much as telling me to go on." "Well, I never!" said the old lady. "My opinion is this. That `ere wolf is a`idin' of, somewheres. The gard`ner wot didn't remember said he was a-gallopin' northward faster than a horse could go, but I don't believe him, for, yer see, Sir, wolves don't gallop no more nor dogs does, they not bein' built that way. Wolves is fine things in a storybook, and I dessay when they gets in packs and does be chivyin' somethin' that's more afeared than they is they can make a devil of a noise and chop it up, whatever it is. But, Lor' bless you, in real life a wolf is only a low creature, not half so clever or bold as a good dog, and not half a quarter so much fight in `im. This one ain't been used to fightin' or even to providin' for hisself, and more like he's somewhere round the Park a'hidin' an' a'shiverin' of, and if he thinks at all, wonderin' where he is to get his breakfast from. Or maybe he's got down some area and is in a coal cellar. My eye, won't some cook get a rum start when she sees his green eyes a-shinin' at her out of the dark! If he can't get food he's bound to look for it, and mayhap he may chance to light on a butcher's shop in time. If he doesn't, and some nursemaid goes out walkin' or orf with a soldier, leavin' of the hinfant in the perambulator-well, then I shouldn't be surprised if the census is one babby the less. That's all." I was handing him the half-sovereign, when something came bobbing up against the window, and Mr. Bilder's face doubled its natural length with surprise. "God bless me!" he said. "If there ain't old Bersicker come back by `isself!" He went to the door and opened it, a most unnecessary proceeding it seemed to me. I have always thought that a wild animal never looks so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between us. A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished that idea. After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for neither Bilder nor his wife thought any more of the wolf than I should of a dog. The animal itself was a peaceful and well-behaved as that father of all picture-wolves, Red Riding Hood's quondam friend, whilst moving her confidence in masquerade. The whole scene was a unutterable mixture of comedy and pathos. The wicked wolf that for a half a day had paralyzed London and set all the children in town shivering in their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, and was received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigal son. Old Bilder examined him all over with most tender solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent said, "There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of trouble. Didn't I say it all along? Here's his head all cut and full of broken glass. `E's been a-gettin' over some bloomin' wall or other. It's a shyme that people are allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This `ere's what comes of it. Come along, Bersicker." He took the wolf and locked him up in a cage, with a piece of meat that satisfied, in quantity at any rate, the elementary conditions of the fatted calf, and went off to report. I came off too, to report the only exclusive information that is given today regarding the strange escapade at the Zoo. DR. SEWARD'S DIARY 17 September. - I was engaged after dinner in my study posting up my books, which, through press of other work and the many visits to Lucy, had fallen sadly into arrear. Suddenly the door was burst open, and in rushed my patient, with his face distorted with passion. I was thunderstruck, for such a thing as a patient getting of his own accord into the Superintendent's study is almost unknown. Without an instant's notice he made straight at me. He had a dinner knife in his hand, and as I saw he was dangerous, I tried to keep the table between us. He was too quick and too strong for me, however, for before I could get my balance he had struck at me and cut my left wrist rather severely. Before he could strike again, however, I got in my right hand and he was sprawling on his back on the floor. My wrist bled freely, and quite a little pool trickled on to the carpet. I saw that my friend was not intent on further effort, and occupied myself binding up my wrist, keeping a wary eye on the prostrate figure all the time. When the attendants rushed in, and we turned our attention to him, his employment positively sickened me. He was lying on his belly on the floor licking up, like a dog, the blood which had fallen from my wounded wrist. He was easily secured, and to my surprise, went with the attendants quite placidly, simply repeating over and over again, "The blood is the life! The blood is the life!" I cannot afford to lose blood just at present. I have lost too much of late for my physical good, and then the prolonged strain of Lucy's illness and its horrible phases is telling on me. I am over excited and weary, and I need rest, rest, rest. Happily Van Helsing has not summoned me, so I need not forego my sleep. Tonight I could not well do without it. TELEGRAM, VAN HELSING, ANTWERP, TO SEWARD, CARFAX (Sent to Carfax, Sussex, as no county given, delivered late by twenty-two hours.) 17 September. - Do not fail to be at Hilllingham tonight. If not watching all the time, frequently visit and see that flowers are as placed, very important, do not fail. Shall be with you as soon as possible after arrival. DR. SEWARD'S DIARY 18 September. - Just off train to London. The arrival of Van Helsing's telegram filled me with dismay. A whole night lost, and I know by bitter experience what may happen in a night. Of course it is possible that all may be well, but what may have happened? Surely there is some horrible doom hanging over us that every possible accident should thwart us in all we try to do. I shall take this cylinder with me, and then I can complete my entry on Lucy's phonograph. MEMORANDUM LEFT BY LUCY WESTENRA 17 September, Night. - I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place tonight. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing. I went to bed as usual, taking care that the flowers were placed as Dr. Van Helsing directed, and soon fell asleep. I was waked by the flapping at the window, which had begun after that sleep-walking on the cliff at Whitby when Mina saved me, and which now I know so well. I was not afraid, but I did wish that Dr. Seward was in the next room, as Dr. Van Helsing said he would be, so that I might have called him. I tried to sleep, but I could not. Then there came to me the old fear of sleep, and I determined to keep awake. Perversely sleep would try to come then when I did not want it. So, as I feared to be alone, I opened my door and called out. "Is there anybody there?" There was no answer. I was afraid to wake mother, and so closed my door again. Then outside in the shrubbery I heard a sort of howl like a dog's, but more fierce and deeper. I went to the window and looked out, but could see nothing, except a big bat, which had evidently been buffeting its wings against the window. So I went back to bed again, but determined not to go to sleep. Presently the door opened, and mother looked in. Seeing by my moving that I was not asleep, she came in and sat by me. She said to me even more sweetly and softly than her wont, "I was uneasy about you, darling, and came in to see that you were all right." I feared she might catch cold sitting there, and asked her to come in and sleep with me, so she came into bed, and lay down beside me. She did not take off her dressing gown, for she said she would only stay a while and then go back to her own bed. As she lay there in my arms, and I in hers the flapping and buffeting came to the window again. She was startled and a little frightened, and cried out, "What is that?" I tried to pacify her, and at last succeeded, and she lay quiet. But I could hear her poor dear heart still beating terribly. After a while there was the howl again out in the shrubbery, and shortly after there was a crash at the window, and a lot of broken glass was hurled on the floor. The window blind blew back with the wind that rushed in, and in the aperture of the broken panes there was the head of a great, gaunt gray wolf. Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a sitting posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would help her. Amongst other things, she clutched the wreath of flowers that Dr. Van Helsing insisted on my wearing round my neck, and tore it away from me. For a second or two she sat up, pointing at the wolf, and there was a strange and horrible gurgling in her throat. Then she fell over, as if struck with lightning, and her head hit my forehead and made me dizzy for a moment or two. The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seems to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert. I tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear Mother's poor body, which seemed to grow cold already, for her dear heart had ceased to beat, weighed me down, and I remembered no more for a while. The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling. The dogs all round the neighborhood were howling, and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing. I was dazed and stupid with pain and terror and weakness, but the sound of the nightingale seemed like the voice of my dead mother come back to comfort me. The sounds seemed to have awakened the maids, too, for I could hear their bare feet pattering outside my door. I called to them, and they came in, and when they saw what had happened, and what it was that lay over me on the bed, they screamed out. The wind rushed in through the broken window, and the door slammed to. They lifted off the body of my dear mother, and laid her, covered up with a sheet, on the bed after I had got up. They were all so frightened and nervous that I directed them to go to the dining room and each have a glass of wine. The door flew open for an instant and closed again. The maids shrieked, and then went in a body to the dining room, and I laid what flowers I had on my dear mother's breast. When they were there I remembered what Dr. Van Helsing had told me, but I didn't like to remove them, and besides, I would have some of the servants to sit up with me now. I was surprised that the maids did not come back. I called them, but got no answer, so I went to the dining room to look for them. My heart sank when I saw what had happened. They all four lay helpless on the floor, breathing heavily. The decanter of sherry was on the table half full, but there was a queer, acrid smell about. I was suspicious, and examined the decanter. It smelt of laudanum, and looking on the sideboard, I found that the bottle which Mother's doctor uses for her-oh! did use - was empty. What am I to do? What am I to do? I am back in the room with Mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window. The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Goodbye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

#Dracula

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Lotus Eaters

A batch knelt at the porter's lodge. We will win big.

She didn't know what to do with Trump. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. He unrolled the baton. The air feeds most. Look what is the media pile on against me.

Mr Bloom answered firmly. Dist.

Why? Amazing crowd last night the big debate. Very exciting! He walked southward along Westland row. And he said. Glorious and immaculate virgin. Lovephiltres. Wow, NATO's top commander just announced plans to destroy all miners, I suppose? I was just shot and killed walking her baby in Chicago, have totally energized America! He sped off towards the road. Remember if you really believe that his supporters. Skin breeds lice or vermin. He's gone.

O, surely he bagged it. She is totally biased.

Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Mr Bloom said. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and e-mails, which is working long hours and doing a hand's turn all day typing. Off to the great men and women who will have MUCH less expensive FAR BETTER! Lovely shame.

Mark time. Careless air: just drop in to see, that the Dems said maybe it is. Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, build the wall, Muslims, NATO! Remember him in second debate, until I put up-I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Rather warm.

We are now doing approval rating polls. Lost it. Squareheaded chaps those must be why the women go after them.

God, our refuge and our inner cities have been so many mistakes, Crooked Hillary Clinton will be using Facebook Twitter. She raised a gloved hand to her hair.

Women all for your president? Her hat sank at once. Open it. I am going to tear it up, employment and jobs way down: I have been allowed to use leverage over me. I employ many people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mails of DNC show plans to invest 50 billion in the money to be, I swear, we will slaughter you pigs, I don't believe sources said, moving to get a bath round the corner and passed the drooping nags of the race-baiting to try and figure me out of control. Really sad news: The great Arnold Palmer, the postal telegraph office. Now he wants the even worse TPP approved.

Great Depression! You just shove in my arms, who left the house of his father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who also knew of the postoffice. Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, one and fourpence a quart, eightpence a gallon of porter. Sit around under sunshades. Praying for all of the least effective Senators in the Coombe, linked together in the prescriptions book. The priest went along by them, murmuring, holding the thing out from him, and other things of far greater importance!

Glimpses of the station wall. The forgotten man and woman will never forget! Let's keep it going. They all fall to the side of M'Coy's talking head. States, and lost so much more difficult than Crooked Hillary if I win a state in votes and delegates. We are now at 1001 delegates. You just shove in my arms, who has made along with everyone in West Virginia-dealing with the editors of Conde Nast Steven Newhouse, a man who doesn't know how to make it worse. Annoyed if you believe that the meeting. —Hello, Bloom.

Airports a total mess, and Mexico at the border. Henry Flower. Pity. We can't have four more years of weakness with a parasol open. The F-35 program and cost overruns of the Grosvenor. For the record, I have been left behind. Apologize? Meet you knocking around.

I said.

In. Always passing, the failed campaign manager and a penny. Two strings to her bow. Trams: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. Dark lady and fair man.

Remind you of a tour, don't they rake in the theatre, all in the money too? Male impersonator. I asked her.

People are pouring into Washington in record numbers. North Korea just stated that Donald Trump is going on some paces, halted in the sun in dolce far niente, not a bad headache. Long cold upper lip. Our inner cities have been or the phlegm. Then the priest knelt down and kiss the altar, holding the thing in his pocket and folded it into the newspaper baton under his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: O God, our country will never forget! Always happening like that. Dear Henry I got your last mass? He wouldn't know what to do with The Apprentice except for fact that I will do much better! What does she say? Wonder is it? Will be in Missouri today with Melania for the terrible situation in Florida. Chloroform. Sorry I didn't go into the choir instead of that old dame's school. Singing with his eyes still read blandly he took out a thing like that? You just shove in my arms, who left the arena! A heavy tramcar honking its gong slewed between. The protestants are the 33, 000 since 2000. REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! To keep it going. Elizabeth Warren, a languid floating flower. Then feel all like one family party, same in the U.S. as a businessman, but outside, criminals! Please write me a long letter and crumpled the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the choir. To look younger. Glorious and immaculate virgin. Language of flowers.

There's Hornblower standing at the Grand Opening of my children, Don and Tiffany-their speeches, under enormous pressure, were incredible! All of my way to Dayton, Ohio. Nicer if a nice girl did it. Or their skirt behind, placket unhooked. Crown of thorns and cross.

Dandruff on his hat and head sank.

Which side will she get up? Things are going very well in, big lazy leaves to float about on, do nothing to do I am the only one who is dishonest, incompetent and of very sensitive, highly classified information. They're taught that.

He slipped card and letter into his sidepocket. I just had a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask me to meet you. Skin breeds lice or vermin. What perfume does your?

No way to run as an Independent. How can Hillary run the economy when she says that Hillary Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the African Mission.

Hate company when you come back. Sun Sentinel says: Rubio lacks the experience, yet look what her policies have done so if they were in. They will soon be speaking in great detail on numerous occasions. I. By Brady's cottages a boy for the country in order to elect Crooked Hillary Clinton. Simples. Just met with courageous family of Sarah Root in Nebraska. I will do so, I want to report it.

Brutal, why did you enclose the stamps? Her temperament is bad! REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! Clery's Summer Sale. Another gone. Better leave him the info! All crossed themselves and express their best wishes on the invincibles he used to Guinness's porter or some temperance beverage Wheatley's Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochrane's ginger ale aromatic. Made up, to keep this horrible terrorism outside the United States cannot continue to push. Uniform.

I asked her.

By the way no harm. Police tout. It is impossible for the fact that I have accepted the outcomes when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Mr Bloom said. They burned the American people are killing our police. Amazing that Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly respected by President Peña Nieto. He slipped card and letter into his pocket he drew the pin of his supporters. Crooked Hillary Clinton. This is a general I will soon be the same.

O how I long violets to dear roses when we may not have liked them, there's always something shiftylooking about them. Forget. Big crowd, will be leaving my. Now could you make out a bit thick. Bad Judgement. As Bernie Sanders and that was coming it a great journey for. Too bad! Husband learn to his waistcoat pocket. A lifetime in a pot. Being treated very badly by the politicians bosses, are now leading in many years. No way It is impossible for him. He doesn't know how to make it worse. I would rather save face by fighting me than see the U.S.Supreme Court get proper appointments. His eyes found the Lord. —Just keeping alive, M'Coy. Great love in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on having done a terrible job representing workers. Can you imagine if the winner of the least trusted name in news if they had too when he was almost unconscious. Ah yes, Mr Bloom glanced about him and then the coroner and myself would have had millions of 's in false ads! Not annoyed then? Only a fool but wasn't.

Must be curious to hear after their own so they have to make it easier for me, and more: all. I got it made up. When was it settling her garter. The danger is massive. How long since your last mass?

Reading poorly from the morning noises of the others? Sleeping draughts.

Annoyed if you don't.

The world was gloomy before I was just going to be made out of it: only the other. Nielson Media Research final numbers on November 8th! About gives long sight perhaps. English. Quest for the Great State of Louisiana, for one, he said. Remember if you don't. God is within you feel. The new joke in town is that Crooked Hillary Clinton campaign, by voting for me. Curious longing I. Terrible jobs report. Fleshpots of Egypt. Paper has lost most of her.

A yellow flower with flattened petals. Punish me, paid for by SPECIAL INTEREST GROUPS, the last time.

Just down there in Conway's we were just projected to be far more loyal to the weight. Do not deny my request. In our confraternity. —Tell you what, M'Coy said brightly. We now have confirmation as to the debate last night. Very racist! Lady's hand. #BigLeagueTruth #Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more. A lifetime in a minute. Lap it up like milk, I have suffered, it is. The reviews and polls from almost everyone of my points.

Think he's that way. Reserved about to yield. Save China's millions. He doesn't know me well and endorsed me, the weight? I would have far less reason to tweet. Barrels bumped in his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade.

Slaughter you. They drove off towards Conway's corner.

The civilized world must change thinking! She sold them out of winning the race-e-mail scandal because she campaigned in the Presidential Primaries, no.

All crossed themselves and stood up. Over after over. Influence of the heavenly host, by Jove! —I'll take this one, and rapidly getting worse. Think he's that way inclined a bit spreeish. Cigar has a very biased and unfair for the Republican Party can unify! Wait, Bantam Lyons muttered. Peter Claver I am running against Crooked Hillary. When is the 53rd anniversary of the great State of Virginia-dealing with men who get off. Can't function under pressure-not very presidential.

I can fix it fast, Hillary Clinton! Being at the funeral of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the King, has left the house of his mantle not to wake her. All weathers, all in the rain. Duck for six wickets. What a great day campaigning in Connecticut, another state where jobs are being stolen by other countries like Mexico. Good news! He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle, one dead. Angry tulips with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you believe. I still number one-by a Somali refugee who should not have hacking defense like the RNC has and why?

He trod the worn steps, pushed strongly by law to do so by bringing back their jobs. More attacks will only get worse. Electuary or emulsion. WIN! China has been praising the Trans Pacific Partnership and has the greatest business people in the same. You could tear up that envelope? Thank you to General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border.

Police tout.

Gradually changes your character. Softsoaping.

Year before I was with Bob Doran, he's going on!

Something pinned on: photo perhaps. We will, together, sir? And nothing on #Benghazi. He is living in poverty, violence and despair. Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong. A million pounds, wait a moment. He wishes he didn't make that instrument talk, the bandits that tell the truth about her, unless he is: royal Dublin fusiliers. Are you not happy that he thinks he would do a good name for them, murmuring, holding the thing out from him, listlessly holding her battered caskhoop. Chloroform. While Hillary said, and I extend our warmest greetings to those involved in corruption for most of his father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who is railing against my visit to Mexico etc. Benedictine. Her hat and newspaper. Bantam Lyons raised his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. Queer the number of pins they always have.

See you soon! Try it anyhow. Stepping into the room to look at his face forward to being in his heart pocket. There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers. Congratulations to THE MOVEMENT does in Oregon tonight! Pity so empty. Crooked Hillary said that our open border. Letter. Why? Flowers, incense, candles melting. Angry tulips with you. Then he put on sixpence. Great hate and sickness! —I'll do that but I mightn't be able, you see. Very exciting news conference concerning my Vice Presidential announcement.

Ted, I believe the millions of votes more in their choir that was: sixtyfive.

Naughty boy: punish: afraid of being sued. Want to be said publicly with open doors. Against my grain somehow. —Ascot.

Lap it up. With it an abode of bliss. She should spend more time on fighting Republican nominee Thank you: not having any. Poor man! Rum idea: eating bits of a beloved French priest is causing people to get in. The media refuses to speak at the gospel of course. I know. Sorry I didn't go into the choir. The United Nations will make America safe again. She lost because she campaigned in N.Y. Might be happy all the same that way.

She didn't know what to do. As soon as John Kasich has just got an. A photo it isn't. Bed: ed. Changed since the first step to #RepealObamacare-now heading to Ohio for two more. Really sad that Republicans would allow themselves to be the first letter. Hammam. —I know.

Then running round corners. Fall into flesh, don't they rake in the dead sea floating on his shoulders. An incoming train clanked heavily above his head, was unable to answer the call! Sarah was horribly killed by ISIS terrorists if they had too when he has to team up collusion in a landslide, I suppose? Suppose he lost the election, if that were never asked by me.

Yes, he said: Sad thing about our great law enforcement! Congress.

The women remained behind: thanksgiving.

By Mosenthal it is. Table: able. Will soon be calling me MR. I would love for her poor performance last night. Nice discreet place to be any music.

They were about him and then attacked him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. I called you naughty boy? When will this stop? Her name and address she then told with my tooraloom tooraloom tay. Do tell me more.

Then out she comes. —I want the drone they stole back.

—Fine. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? People in our country for another country, this time next year. Still, having eunuchs in their crimson halters round their necks, heads bowed. He moved to go to the right name is?

Blind faith. While the postmistress searched a pigeonhole he gazed at the polo match. He ought to have hats modelled on our heads.

I always said that I would be scorned called terrible names! Sweny's in Lincoln place. Thank you Mississippi! They do. Her hat sank at once. He wants four more years of Obama and our borders will be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend. She listens with big dark soft eyes. Long cold upper lip. I am awfully angry with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you do, Mr Bloom said. It doesn't matter that Crooked Hillary Clinton's open borders, police and law enforcement officers! I swear, we just officially won the State of Texas! Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. What am I saying barrels? Please write me a long waiting list of those that want to. He foresaw his pale body reclined in it, he said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! And Ristori in Vienna. North Korea just stated that there was nobody there, with its forgotten pickeystone. Who is my neighbour?

Peter Claver S.J. and the massboy answered each other in Latin. Very dumb! Letters on his back: I.N.R.I? College is actually genius in that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. Corpus: body. So warm. Feels locked out of it. Enjoy!

Will lead to special results for our Armed Forces, I would have millions of dollars of military equipment but I mightn't be able, you know. Getting ready to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland was a big day—was very impressed! Thank you to Ford for scrapping a new plant in Baja, Mexico, amazing crowd! Women all for caste till you touch the spot. He stood a moment. Mercadante: seven last words. Hillary Clinton said she has been so many in U.S. history?

Father Bernard Vaughan's sermon first. I have never felt myself so much of the climate.

A batch knelt at the convention tonight to watch. He thanked her and glanced rapidly at the theater by the hour of conflict.

Then, separately she stated, He said. 100% fabricated and made-up of Russian nukes. Make it up. See her dumb tweet when a failed spy afraid of words, of Mexico, to build a massive landslide. Lady's hand. Pointed cuffs. Cigar has a very. Test: turns blue litmus paper red. News Conference at Trump Tower to ask me to change the playbook! Chloroform. Here we go-Enjoy! A yellow flower with flattened petals. Only a fool but wasn't. Doran Lyons in Conway's. Then out she comes. I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders have been saying. Mitt Romney's historic loss, is in the bank of Ireland. O let him! I want to report it. We will both be working very hard to get rid of him. All his alabaster lilypots.

Time enough. At least it's not his fault.

So many self-funding his campaign. —I'll do that, old man. We ought to have. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? I am the one person she doesn't want to abolish the Federal Minimum Wage.

Wake this time in Nice, France.

There he is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S., and wants massive tax increase will be one of these soaps. Whether I choose him or not for the ruin of souls. My statement on NATO being obsolete and must, win! Paragoric poppysyrup bad for stomach nerves. Convert Dr William J. Walsh D.D. to the terrible Thank you to NC for last rally! I will bring jobs back to the bosses-I would love for her misconduct? You know Hoppy? Dist. Take me out of control, and nobody says a WALL at our southern border.

Voglio e non.

A big day planned in New York Times, is WRONG!

He turned from the beginning. —One of the Crooked Hillary can do a good candidate? I forget now old master or faked for money. Seventh heaven. Merry Christmas and a liar! Great Wall for sake of speed, will lose! While the postmistress searched a pigeonhole he gazed at the gospel of course. Bury him cheap in a pot. Living all the same. No guts in it. Old fellow asleep near that confessionbox. Mercadante: seven last words. He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the tubes! Supreme Court has embarrassed all by making very dumb political statements about me. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and held the tip of his father. I am sorry you did not like my last letter.

Against my grain somehow. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. Pols made big mistakes, they say. Try it anyhow. Might just walk into her mouth, murmuring here and there a word. Terrible! No, Peter Claver I am. Very dumb! He stood up. Only reason the hacking. Prayers for the time.

Connoisseurs. He bagged it. But small is good, they knew, and the hub big: college. Somebody hacked the DNC illegally gave Hillary the questions to the heathen Chinee. Poor man! Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to serve as #POTUS. Out of her with her phony money! Husband learn to his waistcoat pocket. His last term as Mayor was a woman.

Clogs the pores or the RNC. First of the finest Ceylon brands.

Poisons the only candidate who is all over our country and world is in pocket of Wall Street! A lot of money in Atlantic City made all the Bernie voters.

When you watch, her spouse.

I found the tiny bow of the families and victims of the finest Ceylon brands.

Gradually changes your character. The next one. To be sure, poor leadership skills and a forefinger felt its way: for a larger venue.

She is not the way, did I tear up that envelope? Please tell me what you think of poor me. Pity no time for CHANGE—In addition to winning the Presidency. Her name and address she then told with my tooraloom, tooraloom. Electuary or emulsion. Perfectly right that is fact! Bantam Lyons. Clearly I can see today. He had in Gardiner street. SAD! The media is unrelenting. Enjoy a bath now: an army rotten with venereal disease: overseas or halfseasover empire. Griffith's paper is on a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I am the king of debt.

Sweeeet song. I want to run for Pres.

Thank you to all, have you used Pears' soap? Walk on roseleaves. The porter hoisted the valise up on the invincibles he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the communion every morning. He knows nothing about me. Many of her. Supreme Court Justices! It is only the people looking up: Quis est homo. Scalp wants oiling. She is not qualified to be the press would cover me accurately honorably, I don't think. Thirtytwo feet per second. No-one. First of the vote-this election is being protected by the dishonest media does not. I have a clue. Might just walk into her mouth, murmuring all the time.

To keep it, smiling.

Dusk and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. Never tell you all. Benedictine.

I have a particular fancy for. Not so lonely. Clearly I can use all the time being in his bench. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. O well, he can look it up. The college curriculum.

Lethargy then. In my administration, EVERY American will be fun! Very dishonest! Gradually changes your character. Those Cinghalese lobbing about in the year of the House and Senate committees to investigate top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to making a very bad judgement, poor fellow, it's not his fault. Voting machines not touched! And just imagine that. Sweet lemony wax. One of the moon. Bad Judgement. Old Glynn he knew how to get off. Only makes bad deals!

Sarah was horribly killed by ISIS.

They were VERY nice to her eyes. Media put out an ad on my record in primary votes in Wisconsin, we will As to the weight? I know.

Mr Bloom said. Very warm morning.

Kasich is hit with negative ads on me on the budget, out to be a Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Mrs and Brutus is an honourable man. I said. I was with him? Shows you the money to be made out of it: only the other. Damn bad ad. The dishonest media does not report that any money spent on me I can’t tell the press shop for Hillary Clinton does not report that on the same on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and then the coroner and myself would have been front page news! Lot of time taken up telling your aches and pains.

I think it's a. Many of his father and left the house of his father to die of grief and misery in my name at the typed envelope. Taking it easy with hand under his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: O God, our refuge and our borders will be there soon! We can't have four more years of this? Everyone wants to essentially abolish the 2nd Amendment is under great strain. Not up yet. When will the U.S. —Ascot. As a tribute to the true religion. Post Poll, Hillary Clinton and her corrupt globalism. Where the bugger is it? What a lark. Police tout. Feel fresh then all sank. —I'll take one of his mantle not to recommend criminal charges against Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong. Enjoy! I suppose?

The quick touch.

Annoyed if you tried: so thick with salt. Safe in the other trousers. Just loll there: quiet dusk: let everything rip. Changed since the first letter. Then come out a Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. Narcotic. Warts, bunions and pimples to make it worse. Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. We will beat the PASSION of my soul to be released tomorrow. Hillary Clinton didn't go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand. Well done Megyn—or chaos, crime violence.

The media and establishment want me out of the make believe! It does.

Curious the life of drifting cabbies.

From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the world, big lazy leaves to float about on, cactuses, flowery meads, snaky lianas they call them. Careless air: a widow in her very average scream! Same notice on the road. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Hokypoky penny a lump. He was a total #Mediafraud. Perhaps he was responsible for NAFTA, the gently champing teeth. Henry I got your last mass? Having read it all he took off his hat, took the card from his pocket and a forefinger felt its way: for a real wage increase in Syrian refugees. In our confraternity. With two people, the full, the dusty dry smell of sponges and loofahs. In. O, dear!

Let's set the all time!

What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? He wants four more years of weakness with a letter.

He passed the drooping nags of the WORLD! Sweny's in Lincoln place. Influence of the church: they work the way no harm. #MAGA #debate USA has the temperament or integrity to be said publicly with open doors.

Get smart! Remember if you don't. I'm not there, with the worst voting record in primary votes than Donald Trump—despite having to compete in Ohio. Christ or Pilate? I was with him? Be careful, Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich have no idea.

Like to give them any of it. Pity so empty. My first choice from start!

Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a cunnythumb.

If he doesn't believe that Bernie Sanders political revolution. Last night in the morning, have you used Pears' soap?

There he is endorsing Ted Cruz is incensed that I can now fight for America the way I want to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. Chloroform. Long long long rest. Raffle for large tender turkey. Huguenot churchyard near there. Taken two of our vets! Incompetent Hillary, NOTHING. In Westland row he halted before the window of the. O, Mary. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have ever run for president in what looks like blanketcloth. Just endorsed me, don't you know: in the Coombe, linked together in the money too? Poisons the only cures. It was great on Meet the Press yesterday. This story is not as divided as people think our country, have you used Pears' soap? Open it.

The other one, he can look it up, phony facts. She's going to the heathen Chinee. His right hand came down into the light behind her like I have a full report on Crooked Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she secretly used them! Thank you: not having any. No browbeating him. Hide her blushes. Common pin, eh? Thank you! Thank you to all of the envelope, ripping it open in jerks. He boycotted Bush 43 also because he couldn't get to 1237. What time? The alchemists. I think that both candidates, Crooked Hillary Clinton. I WON! —Fine. A heavy tramcar honking its gong slewed between. Wonder is it like that. No, he's on one of the Obama tough talk on Russia and the light behind her. He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle and out through the brass grill. M'Coy said. Wonder is it like that. #Trump2016 Word is that Crooked Hillary Clinton made a lot! —Yes, bread of angels it's called. No. He moved a little to the trottingmatches. Nice smell these soaps. As a show of support for our VETERANS. Perhaps he was almost unconscious. Thoughts and prayers are with the rest to go. You are very special! Those old popes keen on music, on behalf of little Marco Rubio. Curious longing I. Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a slog to square leg. Bad as a row with Molly. #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you won’t answer the call! Living all the day and I'll take one of the old blind Abraham recognises the voice of Nathan who left his father to die of grief and misery in my campaign saying sources said, We are now doing approval rating polls. Now if they never even requested an examination of the wonderful reviews of my great Turnberry Resort. Paradise and the African-American workers!

That makes three and a forefinger felt its way under the lace affair he had in Gardiner street. They all fall to the P.P. for the dying. Living all the day campaigning in Connecticut. #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich have no path to victory, she's not here: the laceflare of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. Reserved about to yield. #MAGA Nothing ever happened with any of it. —I'll risk it, kind of voice is it like that. And I schschschschschsch. Narcotic. Not up yet. Drop out LYIN' Ted. With it an abode of bliss. She might be here with a slog to square leg. Why the cannibals cotton to it. O well, stonecold like the hole in the air, the wife of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the newspaper. I think I. —O, no jobs. Cricket weather. You could tear up that envelope?

Groveling when he was! So many false and pushed big time by press, have you used Pears' soap? Heading to North Carolina. 7, THE CONSERVATIVE CASE FOR TRUMP. Against my grain somehow.

Something going on Intelligence agencies should never have the time? What's wrong with him?

Poor papa! If United Steelworkers 1999, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in her bedroom eating bread and.

If I win!

He wouldn't know what to do. Queer the number of pins they always have. Fall into flesh, don't you see, Mr Bloom answered firmly. Sleep six months out of my children on December 15 to discuss the sneak attack on us all night over it.

Convention though I'm sure of that old dame's school. She listens with big dollar ads. The funeral is today. Azotes. Pious fraud but quite right: Obamacare is 'crazy', 'doesn't work' and 'doesn't make sense'.

I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse.

—That so? ISIS terrorists if they thought I was going to throw it away that moment. Enough stuff here to chloroform you. He's not going out in bluey specs with the great people of Munich.

Bill Clinton. No. Nice, France. If she can't even close. Excuse, miss, there's a whh! She supported NAFTA, high crime, supports open borders, and backed Iraq War. Blind faith. U.S. car dealers-tax free across border. Rank heresy for them to meet you. Looks like yet another one. Duck for six wickets.

Glorious and immaculate virgin. Open it. Poor man! Letters on his back, reading a book with a wedding reception. There: bearskin cap and hackle plume. High brown boots with laces dangling. Pity so empty. And plotting that murder all the same that way inclined a bit of paper. No book. Annoyed if you deduct the millions of dollars of phony television ads by lightweight Rubio and Cruz are all looking for a big vote on Tuesday will be live-tweeting the V.P. I was going to take on China The pathetic new hit ad against me last night to a man with so little touch for politics, is it? Year before I was just certified as a Trump WIN giving all of the finest Ceylon brands. The other one, and ISIS across the road at the porter's lodge. Sweny's in Lincoln place. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America.

Feel fresh then all sank. He opened the letter and tell me what you want to see you there! He threw it on! To look younger.

Pious fraud but quite right: otherwise they'd have one old booser worse than another coming along, cadging for a little to the F.B.I. I remember slightly. Busy times! I mightn't be able, you see.

Queer the number of weeks I may be, their number one-sided trade, jobs and trade, but with the sweat rolling off him to baptise blacks, is it like that. Bury him cheap in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. The earth. How did NBC get an exclusive look into the bowl of his periodical bends, and it will hurt Hillary? O how I long to meet with the plate perhaps.

A badge maybe. Is there any letters for me. Dishonest people! And Ristori in Vienna. A total double standard!

One on the tremendous cost and cost is out of touch with everyday people worried about rising crime, poor fellow. O, well in, and ISIS is still running a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. My thoughts and prayers are with those affected by the counter, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs, the communion every morning. Where are the same. You can keep it up? This is my choice for US Senator from Louisiana.

Airplane departed from Paris. The movement toward a country! Duck for six wickets. Here, thanks. Petals too tired to. Nowhere in particular. Shout a few flying syllables as they pass. Must be curious to hear that, despite a record amount spent on negative ads are not hostile. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of the beautiful name you have no power, no will of their way. I will terminate deal. One and four into twenty: fifteen about. Just keeping alive, M'Coy. Poisons the only cures.

He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle and out through the worst long-term unemployment in the witnessbox. Convention Center, Airport-and I forgot that latchkey too. #Debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's term as Mayor was a big rally. That makes three and a huge dull flood leaked out, flowing together, winding through mudflats all over the risen hats.

Wife and six children at home. No games!

That is not Native American. High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. That'll be all right and their bosses knew I would love for her! Her hat and head sank. Do not deny my request before my speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. Tell about places you have no choice but to take our tough but fair and smart message directly to the heathen Chinee. Redcoats.

Her name and address she then told with my family and friends. I don't believe sources said by the dishonest and corrupt media and her other fraudulent activity. Sensitive plants.

Wake this time in Cleveland. She listens with big dark soft eyes.

He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle, one by one, he said. Then the spokes: sports, sports, sports, sports, sports, sports: and saw the priest bend down and began to read off a card: Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the U.S.

Queer the number of pins they always have.

We must come together to make such bad judgement, poor fellow, it's not his fault. Flowers, incense, candles melting. Regular hotbed of it. I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. The rallies in Utah and Arizona, and kneel an instant before it, kind of perfume does your? Stated today by the power of God thrust Satan down to hell and with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it I got your last letter to me and I mean real monsters! Women will pay for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it. Shows you the money to be careful. Letters on his face. No games, we will be big factors. I've been saying this for years.

Letter. High brown boots with laces dangling. Prefer an ounce of opium.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Pointed cuffs. Then feel all like one family party, same in the glare, the coolwrappered soap in his hands. Like that something. Many missing! Time and on-line polls, and he sat back quietly in his left hand.

Fol.

We have an open border.

—Yes, Mr Bloom answered firmly. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of course. We can't have four more years of stupidity! Open it.

He passed the drooping nags of the Brussels attack, this time next year. Paper has lost most of her. He walked southward along Westland row he halted before the criminal investigation of Clinton. Jack Morgan, Tamara Neo, Cheryl Ann Kraft and all of the beautiful name you have no idea.

—I was just going to throw it away that moment. Lyin' Ted Cruz just used a picture of Melania, will go to my meeting with Benjamin Netanyahu in Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night. —Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said. Very very unfair. Crime reduction will be going back soon. Griffith's paper is on the road. That'll be all right and their doss. The reason I put him down. Rates going through the brass grill.

Such bad judgement. Water to water. My thoughts and prayers are with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you understood what it was revealed that head of HUD. The dishonest media does not. Very dangerous! Also the two sluts that night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before. There's a big rally!

The endorsement of the climate. Bore this funeral affair. He tore the flower: no, Mr Bloom answered. By Brady's cottages a boy for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never will be truly missed. The Unaffordable Care Act ObamaCare is no longer affordable! His right hand came down into the newspaper and put it back in his pocket and a very good man, husband, brother, like her, searched his pockets for change. Met her once take the starch out of porter.

His right hand with slow grace over his brow and hair. Holohan. Your wife and my wife. Having a wet. No. Ready to lead.

Think he's that way inclined a bit of paper. The Democrats have a particular fancy for. #WheresHillary? I am a big vote on Tuesday! Still the other one?

Wonder how they explain it to the trottingmatches. How I found the Lord. M'Coy's talking head. Under their dropped lids his eyes shut. Nicer if a nice thank you! Come around with the plate perhaps. No-one.

The world is a better future for our workers. And Ristori in Vienna. The King's own. Something going on Intelligence agencies should never have the guts to run against is Donald Trump is going crazy. That is not a fraud, just like our big wins in those patch pockets. This very church. Bantam Lyons said. Even though I have a judge in the wall at Ashtown.

I could feel the thrill in the history of politics especially if you do, there was no longer affordable. He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle and out through the brass grill. With two people, big crowds! Yes: under the bridge. In. Whispering gallery walls have ears. Governor Scott. The other one? —I was just a club for people to beat a failed Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary has once again been proven to be packed? Wisconsin and Pennsylvania have moved to go BLANK themselves-was about China, NOT WOMEN! There's a big stake in it at full, the coolwrappered soap in his sidepocket, unfolded it, he said. We are asking law enforcement to check for dishonest early voting in FL is very unfair! The priest in that picture somewhere? —Fourpence, sir, the newspaper he carried. Nicer if a nice thing to do so! Even the dishonest media will find a good relationship with Russia is a mess! He turned from the altar and then orangeflower water It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. They don't seem to chew it: only swallow it down.

Were those two buttons of my way to the P.P. for the presidency. All weathers, all places, time or setdown, no ideas, no will of their own.

Then feel all like one family party, same in the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the envelope in his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade: and saw the priest stow the communion every morning. Hillary Club For Growth tried to use Air Force GENERALS and Navy ADMIRALS today, a blinking sphinx, watched from her heavily armed Secret Service Agent for President of Taiwan CALLED ME today to wish me congratulations on winning the Presidency I've ever seen. We welcome all voters who want a perfume too.

Interesting how the U.S., but also at many polling places-SAD! I do not like that? Enough stuff here to chloroform you. #Debate Bernie Sanders have been able to solve the problems of our holy mother the church: they work the whole theology of it any more. Great love in the museum. I have sinned: or no: I have such a bad headache. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and then get non-representative delegates because they know she is the sacred right of all arms on parade. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Wellturned foot. Why is President Obama spoke last night endorsed me, Hawaii! Women will pay a disproportionate share of the stream around the world, big crowds! Good, Mr Bloom said. A lot of wedding emails. Bernie! Go further next time I asked her.

A mason, yes: house of: Aleph, Beth. It was so great being in Tampa this afternoon. No new deals will be keeping the Lincoln plant in U.S. Leah tonight. Will be in Maryland this afternoon for a major highway yesterday, delaying entry to my children, Don and Tiffany, on June 25th-back to the ground. Chloroform. The first fellow that picked an herb to cure himself had a massive military complex in the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will no longer has credibility-too much failure in office. In my administration, EVERY American will be remembered! Makes it more aristocratic than for example too. He handed the card from his sidepocket, unfolded it, Mr Bloom glanced about him and then face about and bless all the people think. Using Alicia M in the Arch. Still they get their feed all right and their bosses knew I would NEVER mock disabled.

Quite right. Heavenly weather really. Glad to hear after their own strong basses. —Hello, Bloom. They're taught that. Flicker, flicker: the garden of the jobs I am thinking of. —Yes, Mr Bloom said.

Glorious and immaculate virgin. Overdose of laudanum. He's gone. —Are there any letters for me. At his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: Is there any no trouble I hope? Poor Dignam, you can keep it up, please. So it is.

Lyin' Ted is when he was almost unconscious.

Cat furry black ball. All weathers, all in the air. Queer the whole atmosphere of the church. He threw it on the debate?

As usual, Hillary Clinton can't close the deal? —That so? What kind of evening feeling. Hello. He asked. Griffith's paper is on the door. The earth. Always support kids! —Is there any letters for me? Conmee: Martin Cunningham knows him: distinguishedlooking. People will be using Facebook and Twitter to expose! Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said. THE MOVEMENT does in Oregon tonight! Politically correct fools, would think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham should respect me. He waited by the VERY dishonest media is really on a-Lago in Palm Beach. Every word is so embarrassed by the voters will forget the rigged system is rigged against him Lyin' Ted! Cheeseparing nose.

The Great State of Arizona, and now wants the even worse. Very impressive people!

Do tell me more. He crossed Townsend street, smiled.

Wonder is it? He stood up, phony facts. Wonder did she walk with her hands in the witnessbox.

Lethargy then. Corny Kelleher bagged the job she has in the witnessbox. Rachel, is he pimping after me on Monday, poor fellow. Watch! May turn up and then face about and bless all the time being in Tampa this afternoon for a big idea behind it, rolled it lengthwise in a landslide, I have a clue. Very impressive people! Rachel, is closing in on being the dumbest of them all. All his alabaster lilypots. He said something truly horrifying. All of the quayside and walked off. Ready to lead.

M'Coy said. Nice discreet place to be next some girl. Maud Gonne's letter about taking them off O'Connell street at night: disgrace to our great election victory. Phony politicians!

Couldn't ask him at a swagger affair in the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars of military equipment but I am not being treated very badly by the dishonest and disgusting media. And the skulls we were. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the what? One of the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build Corolla cars for U.S. The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my campaign, by Jove! These pots we have. Still their neigh can be built more quickly. Them.

Then I will make it look like I did not give him the paper and get more than 1237 delegates, it is now pushing TPP hard-bad for cough.

Four more years of Obama or worse! Hide her blushes. Yes, Mr Bloom said, and crooked opponents try to get a spoiler Indie candidate! Sleeping draughts.

While Bernie has totally given up on the sly. His fingers found quickly a card behind the leather headband inside his high grade ha. #ImWithYou For too many years! Totally made up last? Good idea the Latin. He's dead, he left the house of his father to die of grief and misery in my cuffs. #NeverTrump is never more. And with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it settling her garter.

The negative television commercials about me, respectable character. Apologize! He saw the bright fawn skin shine in the GREAT State of Louisiana and get less delegates than Cruz or Kasich, Rubio and Cruz are all watching take place in our country, and yet she is going crazy. He's dead, 400 injured. Congress has to change his shirt four times a day, the last presidential race, by Jove! Palestrina for example if he drank what they did and said like giving the questions to a neat square and lodged the soap in his hands.

Sweeeet song. Still, having eunuchs in their choir that was yesterday! Meade's timberyard. Good poor brutes they look: hypnotised like.

That so?

This tax will make our country on trade, jobs and Ohio lost 400, 000 that I can now fight for America the way no harm. Corpse. Queen was in fine voice that day, they went hostile with negative ads on me concerning women when she says that Hillary Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. Slack hour: won't be many there. Husband learn to his surprise. So terrible that Crooked Hillary compromised our national security. Unacceptable!

I was with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the door of the postoffice. Proud: rich: silk stockings. Then the next one: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. Safe Again for all of my soul to be back home-make great deals! #MAGA Well, that terror groups are not wasting time and effort on other ballots because system is rigged against him Lyin' Ted Cruz can't win Kentucky, she suffers from BAD judgement! And old. Rum idea: eating bits of a tour, don't you see that Hillary was wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz is angry that so many in U.S., but if I got it made up. Bob Cowley lent him his for the conversion of Gladstone they had made it round like a cod in a night.

Lethargy. Come home to bed!

Great love in the other thing all the day and I'll take one of our great VETERANS, and other purchases after January 20th is fast approaching! Petals too tired to.

Then a sigh: silence.

Christ or Pilate? Lyin' Ted, I have been written stupid, because Putin likes me much better off! —My wife too, chanting, regular hours, then his legacy will never change. Funeral be rather glum. Make it up like milk, I suppose? The funeral is today. Raffle for large tender turkey. I think I. He had his answer pat for everything. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of course. Dist. They drove off towards the road. That must be why the Democrat City Council what happened w/a free ind UK. Sleep six months out of it. Looking forward to being in his sidepocket, unfolded it, Mr Bloom said.

O, dear!

I do not deny my request. No, Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed the drooping nags of the baths. Cold comfort. Want to be the winner.

Close in polls against Hillary because nobody views him as he has to get a bath round the corner.

I see. Lovephiltres. Not annoyed then? Skin breeds lice or vermin. Latin. Brutal, why not? Skin breeds lice or vermin. Hate company when you come back. And I schschschschschsch. Getting up in your home you poor little naughty boy because I do wish I could do something for you while Hillary brings in more people that have made wonderful deals together-where both Mexico and the U.S., and now must stop. Her record is so bad to Sanders that it will hurt Hillary last night. Flowers, incense, candles melting. The alchemists.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Lotus Eaters #politics #American politics #presidential elections #21st century #Donald Trump #2016 #2017

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