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cocastyle · 4 years

Text

Change - Ch. 1 | E I G H T

Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 5,455

A/N - another chapter! finally lol! I’m so sorry for the long wait! basketball just ended (which was my last time playing so I was kind of depressed not gonna lie and had no motivation to do anything) and I’ve had a lot of school work lately which has been so much fun (note the sarcasm), but I was finally able to sit down and write an update which I really hope you all like!

if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

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E I G H T - Well House

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Since most of the group didn't want to go into the house, it had been decided that they would each draw a stick from the pile that Mike had collected off the ground. It was already known that Bill was going in and it had taken only one glare in Stan's direction as he tried to pull his cousin back to his side for them to realize that Y/N would be going into that house whether they liked it or not.

That meant that the two people with the shortest sticks would be accompanying Bill and Y/N into the house and, much to their dismay, Richie and Eddie were the unlucky two.

Y/N had to ignore Stan's worried gaze as she walked towards the front door of the house, knowing that it was hard for her cousin to be separated from her in a situation like this. But if she were to turn around, if she were to look him in the eyes, the courage she had somehow been able to muster would disappear and she wouldn't be able to go inside.

So Y/N didn't even look back at her cousin before walking in behind Bill. The two hesitated in the entryway and Y/N gulped slightly as she subconsciously took a tiny step closer to the boy. Both of their hands were shaking slightly, but as soon as they were able to grab onto the other and intertwine their fingers, their shaking had subsided.

It took all of Y/N's willpower not to gag at the sight of the interior of the house, but lucky for her, she was too distracted by Richie's complaining to even get a good look at everything as she began to walk forward once again with her hand gripping onto Bill's.

"I can't believe I pulled the short straw," Richie whined. "You guys are lucky you're not measuring dicks."

"Shut up, Richie," Eddie muttered as he looked around the house with wide eyes, the creaking noise coming from the settling of the house making him jump every now and then.

Eddie glanced to one side and winced at the decaying living room. "I can smell that," he whispered in disgust.

"Don't breathe through your mouth," Richie quickly told him causing the boy to look at him in confusion.

"How come?" Eddie asked almost afraid for the answer.

"Cause then you're eating it," Richie replied making Eddie gag and Y/N grimace. Y/N reached out with her free hand to pat Eddie on the back in comfort. Once the young boy had composed himself, he glanced over at Y/N and gave her a small thankful smile before his eyes flickered to where she was holding onto Bill's hand.

A look of shock crossed his face before his eyes flickered back up to Y/N's. He gave her an almost amused look and raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. Y/N's eyes widened a little and her cheeks turned red as she quickly looked away from Eddie who was chuckling softly to himself while also warily looking around at his surroundings.

Thankfully Bill hadn’t noticed this interaction at all and Y/N let out a small sigh of relief before looking around only to find Richie standing on the opposite side of the room. His body was trembling as he stared at something in his hands. Y/N couldn't help but furrow her eyebrows in confusion and say, "Richie?"

The boy didn't respond and merely turned around, his eyes not leaving the object in his hand which Y/N could now tell was a piece of paper. But the paper wasn't what concerned her. No, it was the absolutely horrified look on Richie's face, a look that she had never seen cross the boy's face since she first met him when they were six.

"Richie," Y/N said again as she gently let go of Bill's hand and begin to walk over to the boy. Bill noticed the sudden lack of Y/N's hand and went to glance at her only for his eyes to follow her gaze and latch on to Richie.

"What?" Bill asked as he followed after Y/N and over to Richie, Eddie right behind them.

"It. . .it says I'm missing," Richie muttered, his voice a little shaky as he stared at the paper that Y/N was now able to get a good look at. What Richie said was right. It was like one of the missing flyers that they had seen plastered throughout town only this one had a picture of Richie with his name, age and more listed below.

"Y-Y-Y-You're not missing, Richie," Bill tried to assure him but the boy shook his head, his eyes wide as the paper trembled in front of him.

"Police department, City of Derry," Richie read off. "That's my shirt, that's my hair, that's my face. . ." Richie began to yell and Y/N was quick to grab his arm in comfort while Bill tried to take the paper from him.

"It's not real, Richie," Y/N tried to tell him while Bill nodded in agreement, but Richie continued to yell.

"Calm down, this isn't real," Bill insisted.

"That's my name, that's my age, that's the date. . ." Richie yelled while Bill finally managed to crumple up the paper. Richie was latching onto the paper and Y/N had to try and pull him away while Bill tried to calm the boy down.

"This isn't real, Richie!" Bill yelled.

"What the fuck? It says I'm missing. Am I missing? Will I disappear?" Richie cried out before Y/N grabbed his arm and spun himself round so that he could look at her.

She put two hands on his arms and softly said, "Calm down, Richie. Listen to me."

"What the fuck?" Richie cried while Y/N looked at him.

"Take it easy," she whispered. "Look at me, Richie. Look at me." It took a moment but the boy eventually managed to stop yelling and let his eyes flicker over to the girl. Y/N frowned once she saw the tears that had sprung in his eyes and she didn't even hesitate before hugging him, an act that made Richie tense in surprise before he relaxed and hugged her back, gripping onto her so tightly like he thought he was going to disappear.

Bill and Eddie watched in silence, Eddie's eyes on Richie as a look of worry and concern flickered across his face while Bill stared at Y/N with a dazed look in his eyes like he was in awe.

"This isn't real," Y/N assured him as she rubbed a hand up and down his back, a trick she often used on Eddie to stop his small panic attacks. "It's playing tricks on you. That's all."

Before Richie could respond, a shaky voice called out, "Hello?"

Instantly, Richie and Y/N pulled away from each other, their eyes wide as they looked to the staircase where the voice had come from. Bill and Eddie were just as tense and all four gulped while Richie squeezed onto Y/N's arm which he still had ahold of.

"Hello?" the voice called out again and Y/N didn't know why they started doing it, but the group slowly began to walk towards the staircase where they could hear the voice calling out to them from upstairs. "Help me please!"

Y/N gulped before she began to walk forward and out of Richie's hold. The boy instead took a step closer to Eddie while Bill went to stand by Y/N's side, the four then beginning to make their way up the stairs.

Once they reached the top, Y/N couldn't help but hesitate. The others seemed to be trapped in a trance and before she knew it, they had all left her side and were now walking in front of her. Y/N gulped and had to force herself to continue walking, shaking slightly as she felt like something was watching her every move.

"Betty?" Y/N heard Bill whisper causing the girl to realize just how far behind she had gotten from the boys. She was quick to jog the rest of the way over, but froze at the sight of the open door at the end of the hallway, a girl around her age lying on the ground of the room the door led to.

"Ripsom?" Eddie whispered causing Y/N to realize that the girl was the one who had gone missing. The word barely had time to leave Eddie's mouth before the girl was suddenly being pulled back, a loud scream leaving her lips.

Tears began to fill Y/N's eyes and she had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet as she held back a sob. Bill and Richie began to move forward, but all Y/N could do was shake her head as she tried to calm herself down. She didn't even notice Eddie who was standing back behind her as he whispered so low that it was barely audible, "Guys, do you hear that?"

But he had spoken so low that none of them could hear him or what he was talking about. As for Y/N, it was like the world was beginning to spin all around her and she wasn't quite sure why. She had never had panic attacks before, but she felt as if she couldn't breath and it suddenly felt like something was forcing her into one of the empty rooms.

She couldn't even register what was happening before the world suddenly went still, the door slamming shut before her very eyes and making her scream. "No! Guys!" Y/N cried out, tears begging to fall out as she banged her hand against the door.

She could hear footsteps and before she knew it, she could hear banging from the other side and the juggling of the door knob as Bill yelled, "Y/N? Y/N!"

"Open the door! Open the fucking door!" Y/N cried out in the dark room that only had a small bit of light streaming in from the window as she desperately tried to open the door.

"It's locked! We can't-!" Richie began, but he was cut off by Eddie crying out before Richie yelled out, "What the fuck? The floor just caved in in the middle of the hallway!"

Y/N didn't even have time to register what was going on before she felt something wet around her ankles. The girl gulped and looked down, her eyes widening as she saw the water that was rapidly beginning to rise in the room.

"Guys! Help! There's water!" Y/N cried out. "Get me out of here!" She was full on sobbing by now, the water rushing into the room from who knows where so fast that it was now up to her knees.

"Y/N!" Bill yelled, but his screams were muffled by the gushing sound of water. All Y/N could register from the other side of the door was screams coming from all three of the boys before a loud crash was heard.

The water was up to her waist by now and Y/N was stumbling around the room trying to find anything that could break down the door. She began throwing things at the wood, even going as far as to use a chair which instantly broke from the force.

"Help!" Y/N sobbed, the water now to her chest as she clawed at the door. The door was suddenly banging much louder now and if Y/N didn't know any better, she would say that Bill and Richie were now trying to kick the door down.

All Y/N did was blink and then the water was up to her neck, the water level rising faster than she could think. She cried out one last time before taking a deep breath as the water filled up the whole room. Her lungs were burning as she tugged on the door knob, willing for it to open up and to get out of this death trap.

And just when she was close to slipping away, the door was suddenly kicked in and it was like all the water had disappeared. The only sign of there having been any water at all was the soaked Y/N who was lying on the ground gasping for air as her eyes frantically moved around.

Before she knew it, a figure was above her, hands cupping her face before moving the hair from her face as a voice whispered, "It's okay. You're okay. I got you."

It took a moment of her trying to breath and finally blinking the excess water from her eyes before Y/N managed to focus and lock on a pair of green eyes. At the sight of them, Y/N began to weep, her eyes squeezing shut as Bill pulled her up into a sitting position and held her close. He didn't even care how wet she was, only that she was in his arms and that she was alive after almost two near deaths just that afternoon.

Y/N gripped onto Bill like her life depended on it, her fingers digging into his shirt as she sobbed into his shoulder. Bill felt tears of his own prick his eyes and he held the girl tighter, kissing the side of her head as he continued to whisper, "It's okay. I got you. You're okay."

The two didn't even get a chance to hold onto each other for very long before a chorus of screams yelled, "Help! Help!"

Y/N and Bill could recognize those screams anywhere and Y/N was quick to pull away from Bill, their faces mere inches from each other as tears streamed down her face. "Eddie," she whispered and that was enough to have them both scrambling to their feet.

They made it to the stairs at the same time as Richie who was doing who knows what while Bill comforted Y/N, but obviously something that had him shaking from fear. The three practically fell down the stairs from how fast they were running and followed the screams until they were close to the kitchen.

"Eddie!" Y/N and Richie yelled as they ran into the kitchen with Bill behind them. All three of them froze at the sight of Eddie sitting on the ground with a broken arm while It was practically on top of him with his hand over the boy's face and his teeth showing.

It turned to look at them and dropped his hold on Eddie as he smirked at the three. His gaze was enough to make Y/N shiver and she suddenly felt a lot colder than she did by just being wet from the water.

"This isn't real enough for you, Billy?" It asked, his voice making Y/N gulp while Bill subconsciously took a small step in front of Y/N. "I'm not real enough for you?"

"Holy shit!" Richie muttered in disbelief while Y/N shook in pure fear.

"It was real enough for Georgie," It said and that was enough to make Bill go pale. Before the three could blink, It was running at them. Y/N cried out in fear and grabbed onto Bill while Richie hugged her side. All three of them could only watch in horror as the clown moved at an inhuman like speed.

However, he was instantly stopped when from out of no where Beverly appeared, stabbing the clown in the head with a steel pipe. The other Losers ran in not too long after her and they all watched with wide eyes as the clown froze, it's blood floating into the air while it made a sound that sounded like a sob.

Y/N was the first to snap to attention and she pushed all of her fear and pain aside to run past the clown and over to Eddie who was on the verge of an attack. For she could protect Eddie if she was by his side.

"Get Eddie! Get Eddie!" Richie yelled once he saw what Y/N was doing.

Y/N was still drenched but Eddie didn't seem to care as the girl pulled him into an embrace, holding his head to her chest as she gently rocked him back and forth while the two desperately tried to calm themselves down.

There was a lot of incoherent screaming as Bill, Beverly, and Richie rushed over to the two who were gripping onto each other for dear life as they struggled not to cry. Eddie held onto Y/N with his one good arm so tightly that she knew there would be bruises from where he was holding her, but she didn't care.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Eddie yelled once he saw It turn to them, a chorus of screams leaving everyone's mouth at the sight of the deformed clown. It began to move to them which only made Y/N and Eddie panic more. But unlike Eddie who was screaming for dear life and crying, Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut and was rocking her and Eddie even faster as she sobbed.

"Look at me! Look at me!" Richie yelled at Eddie as he tried to help Y/N in calming him down, but only Y/N was able to calm Eddie down the way they needed him to be and they all knew she was losing it at that moment so that wasn't helping.

There was the sound of laughter and Y/N let her eyes open up for a second and instantly regretted it as she watched It claw Ben across the stomach. "Ben!" Y/N shrieked, her whole body going numb as she watched the clown with pure fear coursing through her body.

To everyone's surprise, the clown slowly began to back out of the room leaving everyone a mess except for Bill who was watching It leave with a bit of confusion before he got up and began to run after the clown as he yelled, "Don't let It get away!"

Mike and Stan were trying to help Ben while Beverly slowly slid down the wall into a sitting position with her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. As for Richie, he was trying to calm Eddie and Y/N down, but that was before he saw Eddie's broken arm which was hanging at an odd angle.

"Fuck!" Richie yelled, instantly drawing attention to the boy's arm and making Beverly gasp in pure shock.

She hurried over and gulped before yelling out, "Bill, we have to help Eddie." The boy came back in an instant while Eddie shook his head violently in Y/N's hold and yelled out, "Nooooo, Nooooo!"

"I'm gonna snap your arm into place!" Richie exclaimed while Eddie looked at him with a death glare and screamed, "Do not fucking touch me! Do not fucking touch me!"

Y/N knew what was about to happen and stopped her sobbing in order to focus on the situation at hand. She tried to steady her breathing and held onto Eddie tighter as she whispered, "It's okay. You'll be okay. It's okay."

The words seemed to work for a moment as Eddie got distracted, but that was enough time for Richie to say, "Well, one, two, three." He then snapped it back into place and Eddie cried out in pain before falling back against Y/N, completely drained both physically and emotionally.

The two began to sob as they held onto each other and Bill gulped before grabbing their arms, "Come on! We need to get out of here!"

The group helped the two to their feet, but Eddie and Y/N didn't dare let go of each other, both knowing that they wouldn't be able to walk out there without the other by their side. They were each other's lifeline at the moment and that much was evident by the way they gripped onto each other's good arms and ran out of the house with the others surrounding them.

They didn't stop running until they were far away from the house and it was then and only then, with the house so far gone that they couldn't even see it, that they all broke.

Everyone was hugging each other as they desperately tried to come to terms with what had happened, but Y/N swore she would never forget the moment that she collapsed into her cousin's arms, muttering out a weak, "Stanley," before breaking down while he held onto her so tight she could barely breath.

One thing was for sure—Y/N Uris never wanted to see that fucking house ever again.

- - -

"You! You did this," Mrs. Kaspbrak hissed as she pointed at each of the children. "You know how delicate he is," she pointed out as she grabbed the back of Eddie's neck and dragged him towards their car.

"We were atacked, M-M-Mrs. K," Bill tried to argue while Eddie was shoved by them and towards the car. Eddie and Y/N locked eyes and both were teary eyes as they looked at each other, both knowing this wasn't going to end well.

"No, don't. Don't try to blame anyone else. . ." Mrs. Kaspbrak spat before closing the car door behind Eddie who had begun to silently cry in the car as he cradled his arm to his chest. Mrs. Kaspbrak, shaking from anger, dropped her keys onto the ground which Beverly went to pick up.

"Let me-" Beverly began in a kind voice as she bent down, but Mrs. Kaspbrak was quick to stop her as she grabbed the keys herself.

"Get back!" Mrs. Kaspbrak yelled aggressively making Y/N frown and grab onto Beverly's arm before pulling the red head to her side. Mrs. Kaspbrak glared at Beverly and muttered, "Oh, I've heard of you Miss Marsh. . .and I don't want a dirty girl like you touching my son."

"Mrs. Kaspbrak, will all due respect, you are supposed to be the adult and Beverly is a child. So if you could please get out of her face and be reasonable for a second, maybe we can talk-" Y/N began as she gently pushed Beverly behind her and put herself in between the red head and the older woman.

Mrs. Kaspbrak scoffed, instantly shutting Y/N up as she began to laugh and took a step closer to her. "Well if it isn't Y/N Uris. It was better when you stopped coming around here. It made everyone's life better and look what's happened now that you're back. Your parents were bitches when they were here too, but I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh? I don't want you near my son ever again, you hear?" she practically hissed, chuckling at the tears that had sprung in the girl's eyes as she bit her lip.

Eddie watched with horror in his eyes from his car and as soon as his mother had walked away, he looked to Y/N with an apologetic look as tears rolled down her face. The girl's lips only trembled and she looked away, an action that made Eddie let out a small sob as he looked away.

They both knew that she wasn't mad at him, but Mrs. Kaspbrak's words had struck a nerve even if they weren't true. After all, if she knew all that Y/N did for her boy, she would probably be praising her rather than degrading her.

"Ms. K, I. . ." Bill began, trying to lower the blow of this conversation despite the redness of his cheeks that had formed out of pure anger at what she had said to Y/N.

"No, you are all monsters, all of you!" Mrs. Kaspbrak yelled. "And Eddie is done with you, you hear, done!" She then stormed away and got into her car before driving away as fast as she could, taking a crying Eddie with her.

Y/N found herself running out into the street, staring after the car which was driving far away. The others quickly joined her and Bill was by her side in a second, his hand gently brushing against hers before latching on to let her know that he was there. Stan appeared on her other side not even a second later and the two cousins shared a look before looking back at the car.

Y/N watched the car go and felt her heart ache for the boy who was like her brother. And knowing that she could possibly never see him again hit her so hard that she couldn't stop the tear rolling down her face as the car drove out of sight.

The car hadn't even been gone for long before Bill turned around to look at the others, momentarily letting go of Y/N's hand in order to turn before grabbing her other one once he was turned around.

"I saw the well," he announced making everyone look to him, some confused while a few looked at him in shock. Was he seriously going on about this now? After everything that had just happened? "W-W-W-W-We know where it is and next time we'll be better prepared."

"Next time?" Y/N blanched, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach at the thought.

"No! No next time, Bill!" Stan exclaimed as he glared at the boy and gently tugged his cousin to his side, effectively pulling the two's hands away from each other. "You're insane!"

"Why? We all know nobody else is going to do anything," Beverly said while Y/N looked at her and Bill with wide eyes.

"Eddie was nearly killed, Y/N got her leg sliced up and almost drowned, and look at this motherfucker, he's leaking hamburger helper!" Richie yelled as he gestured towards Ben who was holding onto his bloody stomach.

Y/N winced and Stan wrapped an arm around her protectively, grimacing slightly at how damp she still was but holding her tight nonetheless.

"We can't pretend it's going to go away," Beverly insisted. "Ben, you said yourself It comes back every 27 years."

"Fine!" Ben exclaimed. "I'll be forty and far away from here. I thought you said you wanted to get out of this town too."

"Because I want to run towards something, not away," Beverly argued, a look of pure surprise and disbelief on her face as she looked at Ben.

"I'm sorry but who invited Molly Ringwald into the group?" Richie questioned causing Y/N to sigh and Beverly to flick him off.

"Richie. . ." Y/N and Stan sighed, both of the Uris cousins looking to the boy who shrugged.

"I'm just saying, lets face facts. Real world Georgie is dead," Richie said causing Y/N's mouth to drop open at the boy in disbelief. "Stop trying to get us killed too."

Richie went to walk past Bill who grabbed onto him in anger and said, "Georgie's not dead."

"You couldn't save him but you could still save yourself," Richie insisted as he once again tried to wall away but Bill was quick to stop him.

"No! T-T-T-Take it back," Bill said, tears filling his eyes. "You're scared and we all are but take it back." The boy then shoved Richie as hard as he could and Y/N looked at him in shock.

"Bill!" Y/N exclaimed, but Richie was already shoving Bill back who quickly grabbed Richie and punched him in the face causing the boy to fall to the ground.

"Holy shit! Bill, what the fuck?" Y/N yelled as she pushed the boy away, tears in her eyes and anger evident on her face. Bill's eyes locked with hers and she stood before him staring at him in disbelief while the others were quick to help Richie up.

She couldn't believe Bill had just done that. She understood that he was upset about what Richie had said but that gave him no right to punch his friend like that especially when Bill knew that Richie would never go as far as to punch him. That was not the Bill she knew and quite frankly, she didn't like this side of him.

"What are you doing?" Y/N finally whispered, tears rolling down her face while Bill just looked at her in shock, his heart breaking at the disappointment evident on her face.

"You're such a fucking loser!" Richie exclaimed once he was back on his feet. He tried to lunge for Bill and that was enough to have Bill snap out of it and go to lunge at Richie. Y/N's eyes widened and she quickly grabbed Bill and began to pull him back while Stan and Mike grabbed Richie who was freaking out.

"You're a bunch of losers!" Richie exclaimed while he was struggling against his friends' grasps. As for Bill, he was trying to get away from Y/N who was holding onto him, but couldn't help himself from relaxing slightly in her hold, especially once he knew she was watching him. "You're gonna get yourself killed trying to catch a stupid clown!"

"Stop!" Y/N finally yelled and both of the boys ceased their struggling to look at her as she stared at them. She was still holding onto Bill and even though she was mad at him, let her head fall against his arm as she let out a small sob.

Why was this all happening? The stuff with It, Eddie being taken away, their fighting? Why? And why the fuck could she not stop crying?

"This is what It wants. It wants to divide us. We were all together when we hurt it. That's why we're still alive," Beverly told them as Y/N moved her head from Bill's arm to look at the girl, using a hand to wipe away her tears as she did.

"Yeah? Well I plan to keep it that way," Richie muttered as he walked past them, bumping his shoulder against Bill's on purpose as he left. Stan began to walk after him, but hesitated before looking back at his cousin who was still gripping onto Bill's arm.

It was then that Y/N knew that she had to make a choice and when Bill looked to her, they both knew what her choice was. Both of them looked at each other with tear filled eyes and Y/N shakily pulled away from the boy.

She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, but no words came out as the two just stared at each other. Bill shook his head ever so slightly, a tear rolling down his face that only made Y/N's face contort in pain at the sight.

Knowing it would hurt the longer that she took, Y/N turned and was quick to run over to her cousin, the two instantly linking arms before beginning to walk away and to their bikes. Y/N glanced over her shoulder once to find the rest of the Losers staring after them, but it was Bill's face that broke her. It looked as if his heart had just been ripped out of his chest and stomped on, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at her heartbrokenly.

Y/N had to look away and hopped onto Stan's bike before he began to pedal away. It was then that she came to terms with what had just happened.

But she couldn't have stayed. She didn't want to die. And after today where she had almost died twice, she never wanted to be put into that situation again nor see her friends in that situation. She was only a kid after all. Why should she have to deal with this when this summer was just supposed to be a time for her and Stan to enjoy themselves?

A sniffle had the girl snapping out of her thoughts and she turned her head to look at Stan who was biting his quivering lip as a few tears fell from his eyes. The sight made Y/N's heart break and she was quick to wrap her arms around him tighter and lean her head against his back, a sign that she was still there. This was enough to make Stan sigh as he leaned back and into his cousin’s hold.

For as long as they had each other, they would never be alone. And they would be there to help each other get through this just like they always would.

And with that, everyone began to go their separate ways.

The Losers Club was over.

* * *

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erintoknow · 4 years

Text

everything and nothing

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

Funding a one-woman revenge mission isn’t cheap. You might work for free but Rosie doesn’t. Or Mortum. Or Marcie. The list goes on. [Feed Me Diamonds]

[Read on AO3]

It was the incident at Joes that gave you the initial idea: you need money to fund your operation. And where is flush with – conveniently untraceable – funds, but Los Diablos’s criminal underground?

Using Jane’s luck to gamble your way through the casino circuit would be suicide. She’d end up in a ditch or worse. But you don’t need to. You’ve got a state-of-the-art power armor suit.

In a way, it’s a return to the old days, to being Sidestep. You could never manage to hold down a job back then, but the guilt over skimming kept you from being able to afford much of anything. So, you know, occasionally when busting a villain’s lair or rounding up drug dealers, maybe some of their funds were… misplaced. It was either that or starve.

Or worse, admit your situation to somebody and ask for help.

But it wasn’t really stealing, was it? The money was probably wrongfully gotten to begin with. And it’s not like the city paid vigilantes.

Whatever. You were stealing the whole time. You can admit it to yourself now. It doesn’t matter who it was from. It was still theft. You’ve always been a liar and a fraud. Those last moments before throwing yourself out a fourth-story window crystalized it for you. People lauding Sidestep as some sort of ‘hero’ when she was barely any better than the people she beat up. She just stuck to the government approved list of acceptable targets.

But if you did it before, you can do it again. You know who the real villains are, and it’s not Larry Ray selling weed at the corner of Market Street.

Once more now, with feeling.

Check the seal on your helmet. The Rat-King curls around you. Paul Howard Koch’s penthouse is in the heart of the city. Technically not inside the bounds of Los Diablos proper itself. More a richie-rich enclave. Great view, above the air pollution, slightly less likely to die in a horrific one-two earthquake/tsunami punch.

To his neighbors on the floors above and below, Mr. Koch is a reclusive retired businessman who made his fortune in the early days of the chaos following the establishment of the Free Economic Zone over southern California. Back when anything really did fly.

And maybe there’s a truth in that.

Or maybe he’s just a self-hyped boost with magnetic powers with the audacity to hide in plain sight who robbed a bunch of banks and also maybe the Rangers HQ one time and okay okay fine, maybe there’s an element of revenge to tonight, so what?

Start with the small ones.

Work your way up.

Getting inside is easy enough. It reminds you of Marconi’s mansion that way. Amazing how much security is just theatre. Wall? Climb over. Guards? Walk between the patrols. CCTV? Oh, what a shame, the woman watching fell asleep at her desk, and oh, the whole system needs to be rebooted now? Technology these days, tsk tsk.

The building doesn’t even have dampeners.

Closing the door to the camera room, you let your hand linger on the doorknob. It takes some finesse to control the Nanovores this tightly but you’re able to collapse the mechanism. They’ll have to break the door down.

You’ve got two targets today. Koch, and his fortune. You know where Koch is. He’s up in his bedroom, half-asleep watching TV. Play the right notes, and he’ll stay that way until you need him.

So, then, where’s the goods?

It’s been, what, a decade since Pennybags was active. Had a big spree robbing banks, culminating in an attack on Rangers HQ. You were – Sidestep was still pretty new to the scene, but even she knew it took some guts to pants the Rangers like that. And then he was never heard from again.

Almost have to admire the restraint of the man. To realize he peaked and it was time to get out. Can’t say it’s an example you intend to follow.

The penthouse is a split-level deal. Whole lot of empty space for a man who lives alone. The second floor and you find his office. Very fancy looking computer. And of course, there’s the password in the middle drawer. Man’s gotten lax. You plug in a USB stick as you log in. Search through the files. Records, transactions. Looks like Mr. Koch has been busy in his ‘retirement.’ Blackmail material? Not the pile of cash you were aiming for but it’s something to start with. Another crack in the city’s shell. Another point of attack.

One file name catches your attention: Regenerator sale? It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten a lead on that name, and here it is. Just waiting for you. Opening the file and it’s a text document. At first glance there doesn’t seem to be much you don’t already know. PharmaCore, shut down by the government, confiscated, then ‘vanished.’ Oh, here’s something new: an actual description of what it does…

Ugh. There’s no time to stand here and parse all this. You copy everything that looks even remotely promising and move on to the rest of the room.

An oddly spaced bookshelf, by the window, draws your attention. Push the texts away and there’s a safe. Have to smile at that. At least it’s not behind a portrait. The metal melts into dust under the Nanovores and you’re free to reach inside. A gun, some rolled up hundred dollar bills and a collection of black unmarked USB looking bits of plastic and silicon.

Jackpot.

DS Chips. Or ‘Dark Script’ if you want to be wordy. Criminal computer scientists are disappointingly lacking in imagination. Physical bills can be traced by serial number, and digital transactions through bank and credit systems. Cryptocurrencies like these DS chips are the current fashion du jour for avoiding surveillance.

The exchanges aren’t cheap, and Hollow Ground keeps a tight grip on Los Diablos’s little corner. But attach a ‘wallet’ to a specific chip and you carry thousands of dollars in a little box of plastic and silicone smaller than your palm.

That’s business sorted then.

Time for the pleasure half.

When you reach the bedroom, you don’t need to kick the door in. The hinges disintegrate into dust and it falls over, all on it’s own. The crash against the floor breaks Koch out of his stupor. With a cry of alarm he scrambles to his feet, tripping on his own night robe.

“Evening, Pennybags.”

“Who the blazes let you in here?” His heart is pounding. Scenarios running through his mind. Scrambling for an answer. Really? You’d have expected someone a little more paranoid.

You fold your hands behind your back. Nod towards the door. “I did.”

He narrows his eyes, not seeing the humor. Oh well, his loss.

You’re on him before he can even finish his thought about using his power on you. Is enough of the suit metal for it to be a problem? You’re not sure and you’d rather not find out. His head cracks against the wall as you shove him up off the ground with an arm against his neck.

You tap your head. “Don’t even think about it.”

He doesn’t stop struggling. Bare feet kicking against your armor. Up close he doesn’t look as old as you pictured. Bald, sure. But… how old is he? Maybe he just has one of those faces. “You’re–” He wheezes, “you’re going to regret this.”

He’s already plotting your death. Cute. Have to laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

...now what are you going to do?

Maybe you should have thought of that before barging in here.

You press against his neck a little harder. Not enough to choke him, but to give you some room to think.

“Alright… Here’s what’s going to happen,” You growl, lacing your words with a telepathic push. An urgency to be followed.

It’s not mind control, not technically.

Just a push.

You’re not even going to make him jump out a window.

–––

You don’t need to hear the stomping of boots in the hallway to know your time is almost up. You drop Koch to the floor. “Consider what we’ve talked about tonight.” Walking over to his desk, you rip off a piece of his day planner and turn it over. Write out the list of instructions.

Three simple suggestions. They’re in his own best interest, really.

You return to him, holding the paper out to take. He hesitates so you reach into his mind and give him a push before stepping away. By the time the riot police show up the scrap paper is gone, inside his pocket. You watch the police fill the other end of the room, shields up and guns drawn. The idiots. They’ll kill Koch if they shoot like this.

You don’t see or sense any of the Rangers.

That’s fine with you, if maybe a little strange. The man in charge steps forward, hand on the trigger finger. “Ghost, you’re under arrest. We have you surrounded.” You don’t need to read his mind to know from the look on his face and the way he’s holding his gun that he’s seriously regretting coming in to work tonight. What does the LDPD think they’re doing? They’re no match for you. Sure, you aren’t immune to bullets, but when has that ever stopped you?

You reach out to the captain’s mind and coax him to lower his gun before he sets off the whole room. “Ghost?” You fake a laugh, the distortion hollowing it out, then say innocently, “Don’t know anyone by that name.”

You crouch down, bracing yourself, placing a hand on the floor. You’ll only have a second before the tension of the situation wakes them up again. “More of a Banshee.” There’s a moment where it seems like nothing is going to happen and then the Nanovores eat a hole in the floor directly beneath you, dropping you down. You grunt, letting the armor absorb most of the shock, though the landing still plays hell on your knees. Going to regret that in the morning.

Above you the room erupts in shouts of alarm and someone fires their gun, setting off another gunshot, then another. You grimace in frustration and, telepathically reach back up to give them a metaphorical shake of the shoulders. You can’t have them killing your new informant.

You break into a run, following your thread to the nearest elevator shaft and breaking the door open with a mixture of force and Nanovores. As you make your escape sliding down the elevator cable you can’t help humming a few bars aloud as you try to steady your nerves.

The chittering of the Rat-King creates an accompaniment in the back of your head.

It’s getting scary just how comfortable with this life you’re starting to get.

Hitting the basement level you barely manage to clear the doors when Lady Argent is on you, all knives and quicksilver. Her claws dig into your arm before you’re able to get her to back off with an uppercut to the head. Argent flexes her jaw and gives you a predatory grin. “I had a feeling I’d find you down here Ghost.”

You study her face, waiting for a sign of any sudden movement. Getting out predicted like this is embarrassing but you need to save the over-analysis for when a woman capable of opening you up like a can-opener isn’t staring you down. You’ve got to reassert control of the situation. You make sure to put an edge to your voice, “It’s Banshee now. If you’re going to play lap dog, at least remember to fill in the incident report form correctly this time.”

Her eyes widen and then Argent leans down, her grin deepening into a scowl. “Ugh. I don’t care,” and she moves in.

Can feel your heart in your throat as the two of you exchange blows. When you try to slide past her, Lady Argent is ready for you, raking claws against the side of your armor, trying to find a point of purchase to pry you apart. Grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you. It’s a stupid move, and you pay for it with razor filings running down your sides but because it’s stupid she doesn’t expect it and you’re able to knee her in the gut and kick her away.

You hate fighting Argent in enclosed spaces like this. It’ll be a game of attrition as to whether you can get away before she can land a clean hit. The two of you are back to circling each other when you bump up against a support pillar.

Maybe….? You mentally check your map.

You’ll need to stall Argent. “So, what was your plan, if I went a different route?” As you talk you rest your hand on the concrete pillar beside you, coaxing the Nanovores to get to work. “Not a good look, hiding in a basement.”

Lady Argent narrows her eyes, “The Handyman’s watching the front door.”

“He’s out of the hospital now?” You sigh. “Are you really that eager to put him back in there?”

There’s a shark-toothed grin and the distinct feeling that she’s sizing you up. “You’re awfully concerned for being the bastard that put him there.”

“Healthcare’s not cheap in this city. Should we hold a fundraiser for him?” You give a theatrical flip of your free hand. “Any suggestions?” Too flippant? You’re never really sure how to approach Argent.

There’s always the temptation; in the back of your head. Let her know who you are, what you’ve done. See if she’ll kill you. But you always end up holding back. Why is that? You don’t understand yourself.

“My only ‘suggestion’ is bringing you to justice.” She keeps her focus trained on you, ready for the moment you make a move. Part of you is surprised she’s still letting you talk. Is backup on the way? That’s not Argent’s style.

“That’s a good thought about justice.” You rap your armored fingers against the pillar, testing to see if it’s hollowed out yet. “But who gets to decide what justice is?”

Would Argent feel bad, if she did kill you? Or would it just make things worse for her? How do you atone for something like this? Is revenge justice? Is it really enough to just make someone hurt?

You used to be sure.

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”

You tsk. “Oh and now you’re hurting my feelings?” You can’t keep operating like this. Need to compartmentalize better. Remember the goal. Remember revenge. The damage to Argent is done. Don’t fuck this up and make it be in vain.

Argent eyes your hand, still pressed to the pillar, and growls. “What are you up to?”

“Are you talking about, in general or just right now?” You smirk under your helmet. “Care to find out?” You push hard against the concert. The stone breaks like glass and the ceiling sags from the sudden lack of support, tiles crashing down around you. You jump backwards as the ceiling starts to give in.

No time for any last-minute taunts. You book it for the sewer entrance before Argent can realize the whole building isn’t going to collapse.

In the back of your head, she's still there, watching through the dust.

Smile like a shark.

Reminding.

---

“So, this isn’t what I had planned on talking about; but you’ll never guess what happened last night.” Ortega looks at you, leaning in, an edge to her smile. The two of you are meeting for an early lunch before heading up to the Children’s Hospital again.

You’d half a mind to order something alcoholic, but resisted. Instead, you’re watching Ortega over the rim of your milkshake, straw in your mouth. “Mm?”

“You remember Pennybags?”

You drum the side of the glass with your fingers, making a show of thinking back. “The magnetic guy?”

Ortega nods. “Yeah. Big bank robber, stole a bunch of things from the old Rangers HQ too, remember?”

You nod, grimacing. “Yeah, that was a mess.” Of course you remember. One of the few times you had actually seen Julia really upset. The first time actually. Didn’t know what to do, how to handle it. Ortega was always so confident, so in control of herself and the situation all the time. And there she was, tears and snot yelling at cardboard boxes about failing and… you did the only thing you could think of to do.

“Well, did you see the news this morning?” Ortega’s excitement pulls you back to the present. She leans in further over the table.

You sit back, shaking your head. “I was a little busy last night.” You wince, “This morning. I mean. Uh.” Shit shit shit. “Well. Both? Long night. Working.” You shrug, try to keep your face blank.

Ortega tilts her head, side-eyeing you. “Yeah, I still need to ask you about that job of yours.” She waves it off with a hand. “Anyway, Banshee made a mess again. North end of Beverly Hills this time.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Was anyone hurt?” You bite your lip, looking away. “Did… um. Did anyone else…?”

You know Banshee didn’t kill anyone last night. But…

Don’t breathe, don’t relax until Ortega shakes her head, “One guy had some minor injuries, but that’s it.”

Oh thank god. “That’s a relief.” You match Ortega’s smile, swipe a fry from the basket in front of her.

“I’m more convinced than ever that Marconi’s murder was something else.”

“That’s…” You look away, watch the window, fingers worrying the fry in your hand. Shit. What do you say to that? Fuck fuck fuck. “If you say so.” You look back at her. Need to push this conversation along before she can think about that response. “So, uh, are you just this excited that no one was hurt or did the Rangers finally bring Banshee in, or – or what?”

“No, they got away. Again.” Ortega gives you a curious look, eyes flickering down to the fry in your hand and then back up to your face. With an air of deliberate purpose, you put the fry in your mouth. She politely doesn’t say anything.

“So then…?”

“You’ll never guess.”

You shrug, steal another fry. “Okay.”

She frowns. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

You keep your face blank, only raising an eyebrow as you silently eat your ill-gotten prize.

“Fine.” She huffs. “The guy Banshee attacked, the one that had to go to the hospital… It’s Pennybags. Bastard was hiding under our noses the whole time.”

“Money’s a pretty good cover.”

“Believe me, I’m wildly aware.” The tired expression on Ortega’s face is only there for a brief second and then it’s gone. “He practically turned himself in. It was… kind of creepy, actually. Reading the report.”

You swallow, goosebumps on the back of your neck. “Creepy?”

“Like he felt… compelled.” Ortega jabs a fry in your direction. “You’re the expert, what do you think? Can telepathy force a confession like that?”

“Ortega…” You make yourself meet her eyes. “You’re as much of an expert as me, at uh, at this point. M–maybe more.”

“Maybe.” She meets your gaze. “But I want to know what you think.”

Goddamnit, why does she keep doing this?

You focus on the basket of fries instead, it’s safer. “It’s… possible.” You concede. Would it be better to lie? It already feels like you’re lying about so much. It’s better to minimize the amount of bullshit you have to keep track of. “How are you… sure it’s a confession, and not like… uh, a delusion or something? False suggestion?”

“Yeah, that’s fair. That was my first assumption but uh…” She lowers her voice. “We uh, we found some stuff when searching the apartment. The signed Marshall Hood figure Pennybags stole actually…”

“Oh.” You say. You hadn’t expected her to actually talk about this.

“I… don’t really have a lot left of him. I thought I’d lost that one for good.”

“I remember.” You remember seeing the front door of its hinges, running through wrecked room after room, finding an alarmingly sobbing Ortega.

The first time you willingly hugged someone.

“There’s maybe five people who know about that figure, Ari, and two of them are dead now.” Ortega’s voice is quiet, her hand on the table balled into a fist.

“Do…” You fish for an idea, “do you think they’re trying to send you a message?”

Ortega looks you straight in the face, half-eaten hamburger now completely forgotten. You wish she wouldn’t. “A message? For what?”

You look back, willing yourself not to look away, not to look guilty. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s no secret you and Hood were close, is it?”

The look on Ortega’s face only intensifies. “You think maybe it was a threat?”

Your face blanches, and you shake your head. This is not at all going how you thought it would. “I’m not in this game anymore, remember?” You shrug your shoulders theatrically, “for all I know it could be a love letter.” You freeze. Face threatening warmth. Oh god. What the fuck, Ariadne?

The absurdity of the idea gets a laugh out of Ortega and you both relax. “Mierda,” she shakes her head. “That’s a hell of a way to send a letter.”

You steal another fry. She lets you.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #fanfiction #fhr/Ariadne

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no-she-wasnt-reddie · 5 years

Text

While We Were Sleeping

I wrote this fic based on this post here from @cosersllub, who graciously let me use their post to inspire this fic.

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word count: 4327

There is a lot of internal dialog in this fic, so in order to keep track of whose thoughts are whose, I’ve put Eddie’s thoughts in blue and Richie’s thought in red.

This is the first fic I’ve written in a very long time, and it’s my first Reddie fic ever. So please leave any constructive criticism you might have for me and if you want more writing, send me some requests! Thanks! xx

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Instead of going out with his friends at the carnival, Richie is holed up in his room on a Friday night, sitting at his desk listening to records and painting his nails black. Well, painting might be a bit of a stretch. He is coloring in the nails on his left hand with a black Sharpie marker because Beverly isn’t here to use real nail polish. He hates being alone, but he also did not want to be with his friends tonight, especially with him. Richie turns up the volume on his record player in an attempt to drown out the sound of his own thoughts. Stop thinking about him like that, Rich. He is your best friend, nothing more. He is only your best friend. He has been repeating the same words in head over and over all night, but it is not stopping thoughts of Eddie laughing at one of his stupid jokes, with his eyes shining and his nose scrunched and his mouth upturned in the cutest smile. Stop it, Richie. He is only your friend. Eddie is your friend. He shakes his head, as if he is trying to literally shake the thought from his mind. He focuses back on his nails, trying desperately not to let his ADHD-riddled mind take him back to places where it shouldn’t go.

Eddie hates his mother. After going the carnival with his friends and being bummed that Richie wasn’t there, he biked home as quickly as possible. He had hung around for a little longer than he had been planning to, just to see if he might show up eventually. He asked everyone if Richie had mentioned that he wouldn’t be coming, but they all shook their heads. Something must be up. Richie always lets us know if he isn’t going to make it to hang out. He had planned on stopping by Richie’s on his way home, but he didn’t realize what time it was. Ugh, Mommy is gonna kill me. Eddie got home a little after nine, which is when he said he would actually be home. He tried to be as quiet as possible when he came in the front door, but his mother was standing right in the entry way, ready to give him more than a stern talking-to. While Sonia never physically hit Eddie, her words sure packed a punch—of guilt. She went on and on about how he could have been dead in a ditch for all she knew, and he was lucky she didn’t get the police involved, and blah, blah, blah. Over the years, Eddie had learned how to tune his mother out for the most part. After finding out that his medications were placebos and his mother had been faking his illnesses, she lost a bit of her hold on Eddie; he wouldn’t be so easily controlled. Even after all of that, however, there was still a part of Eddie that wanted to make his mother happy, wanted to ease her worries. So he continued to take the medications, on the condition that she let him hang out with his friends and never say another bad thing about them. This was proving to be difficult as she brought up Richie in her rant, which effectively snapped Eddie out of his thoughts. “…And that Tozier boy is trouble; he is probably the reason you are out past your curfew.” A rush of anger flared up in Eddie. “He wasn’t even out with us tonight! You can’t blame Richie for everything!” At this, Eddie turned and stomped up the stairs, making a show of things by slamming his door shut. His mother called up after him, but Eddie ignored her. I need to get out of here.

Richie is just finishing the nails on his left hand when he hears a small tapping sound. He looks around the room and doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, so he returns his focus to his nails. Then, he hears a louder knocking, right on his first-story window. He turns down his music and looks over to see the one person he is trying not to think about. Eddie is standing outside his window with a backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waves and gestures for Richie to let him in. Richie’s heart starts beating faster in his chest. He is your best friend, Richie. Eddie is just your best friend. Your very cute best friend. Ugh Richie, you are hopeless. Richie walks over to the window and slides it open. Eddie smiles up at him, “Hey Rich, where were you tonight? I missed you!” I really did miss you, Rich. Like a lot. Richie’s heart jumps into this throat. Stop it. Richie clears his throat before saying, “Yeah I just wasn’t feeling up to going to the carnival tonight.” He tries to keep his eyes on Eddie, but they keep averting to the floor. Eddie looks up at Richie with confusion, trying to decipher the look on his face. Something is definitely going on with Richie. He hasn’t been this quiet since… well I don’t think he’s ever been this quiet. Maybe something happened? Why does he have to be here, looking all cute and saying he missed me? Why is this feeling physically hurting me?

“Umm, Rich, can you help me up?” Richie snaps out of his thoughts and scrambles to pull Eddie in. “Yeah, sorry Eds.” Richie sticks out his hand, “Here, I’ll pull you in.” Eddie reaches to grab Richie’s hand, which causes a jolt to shoot up Richie’s arm. I wish I could hold his hand for real. Great, I can’t even touch him without these stupid thoughts invading my mind. Eddie plants his foot wrong on the window frame, slipping and falling into the room. Richie tries to catch him, but he ends up losing his own balance, so they fall to the floor together. Eddie lands on Richie with an oof, their limbs a tangled mess. Oops my bad. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Eddie starts laughing and scrambles up from the ground, reaching a hand out to help Richie up. Richie turns a light shade of pink as he takes his hand, standing up and laughing awkwardly, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Eddie brushes his clothes off and straightens out his fanny pack as his eyes sweep Richie’s room. It still the organized mess it always is, with records in large stacks next to his desk, which is covered in papers, and comics strewn across the floor. This feels familiar to him, even though the look Richie is giving him is something entirely new. Eddie looks back to meet Richie’s eyes, but he quickly looks away. Shit, way to be obvious, dumbass. Eddie clears his throat as he walks over to Richie’s desk. “So what have you been up to tonight, man? You ditched us to hang out with your rock albums?” Maybe if I can get under his skin he will stop acting so weird. Richie laughs a laugh that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Yeah, better than seeing your ugly mug,” Richie says with a smirk. There, maybe if I call him ugly, he won’t figure out how cute I think he is. Some unknown tension lessens as Eddie laughs back. Okay, this is my Richie.

“So really, what have you been doing all night?” Richie shrugs and lifts up his left hand to show off his black Sharpie nails. “I’ve only done one hand because I can’t really do the other with my left hand.” Richie sits back down at his desk and picks up the Sharpie with his left hand. “See? I can’t even hold it right.” Eddie giggles and grabs an empty milk crate meant to hold records. Ugh really? A giggle? Like that isn’t the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. He flips it to create a makeshift seat next to Richie. “May I?” Eddie holds out his hand, asking for the Sharpie. Richie hands it over to Eddie who uncaps it. He leans over Richie’s hand, some strands of hair falling into his face. Cute, cute, cute. Eddie starts coloring in the nails on Richie’s right hand, completely immersed in the task.

Richie can’t help but stare at Eddie’s face while he works. He is making his concentration face, the one where his brows furrow together and his tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth. Oh my god, his mouth. I want to kiss that mouth. Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. Richie hones in on every freckle dusted across Eddie’s cheeks, that little scar above his left eyebrow that he got during the rock war when they were kids, the way his long eyelashes curl upward. Wow, I’m really fucking screwed. Richie is so focused on Eddie’s face that he doesn’t even notice that Eddie is done.

Wow I don’t think Richie has ever stayed this still for this long. Eddie looks up at Richie through his eyelashes, curious as to why he is so quiet and still. Eddie sees Richie staring at him. His heart jumps a little in his chest when he sees the look on Richie’s face. His face is so serene, almost peaceful, like he could sit here and stare all day. Is he actually looking at me like that, or is he just zoned out? “Earth to Richie? Where’d you go?” Eddie asks with a small smile on his face, while waving a hand in front of Richie. He breaks out of his trance, and his face flushes profusely. Oh fuck me, I’m caught. “Hah, sorry Eds, I was just thinking about that time I fucked your mom.” “Oh gross, you dickwad!” Eddie shoves Richie out of his desk chair and laughs when Richie flops to the floor. From his spot on the floor, Richie turns to face Eddie. “So, whatcha wanna do? I know you didn’t come all the way over here just to color in my nails for me.” No, I actually wanted to check on you and make sure everything is okay. I was bummed you didn’t come out tonight. “I don’t know, thought maybe we could just hang out for a little bit? I had to get out of the house, away from my mom.”

So hang out is just what they do. They listen to Richie’s records, mostly rock, but he put on a pop album just for Eddie every so often. They play cards; well, Richie tries to teach Eddie how to play cards, using M&Ms to bet instead of money. Richie ends up winning the majority of the chocolate, but he still shares it with Eddie while they lay around on their backs, reading Richie’s comic books. I’m glad it’s just the two of us hanging out tonight. I don’t want to go back home.

“Hey Eds, don’t you have to be getting home soon? It’s getting pretty late; your mom is gonna go ballistic.” Richie turns his head to look at Eddie with a sad smile on his face. Ugh I don’t want you to leave, but I don’t want to get you in trouble, Eds. Eddie turns onto his stomach, running a hand over Richie’s beige carpet, watching the color change as he drags his hand back and forth. “Rich, I really don’t want to go back home tonight. I can hardly stand being home with my mom anymore.” Please let me stay. Richie shrugs his shoulders and looks around, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “Umm okay Eds, you can just stay here tonight then. I mean, it’s the weekend, so it’s not like we have to get up early tomorrow or anything.” Fuck, what am I doing? He can’t stay here. I am already at my breaking point. There’s no way we can sleep in the same bed or I might die.

Eddie smiles so big that Richie can feel literally feel his heart cracking. God, why does he have to be so damn cute?! Thank god, I feel more at home here than my own house. Eddie gets up and throws himself onto the bed, climbing toward the right side of the bed since he knows that Richie favors the left. Eddie pats the bed beside him, gesturing for Richie to hop on in. Richie brings a hand to the back of his neck and looks down at the ground. Damn it, you better come up with an excuse quick, Trashmouth. “It’s okay, Eds. I’ll take the floor. We are probably getting too old to share the bed now anyway, right? The two of us will barely fit.” Eddie looks up at Richie incredulously, his face falling. What the fuck? We always share the bed, even when everyone else is over, too. “Rich, what are you talking about? There’s plenty of room.” Eddie reaches over and grabs Richie’s wrist, yanking him onto the bed with him. Richie lands on the bed with a thud, practically on top of Eddie. Holy shit, this cannot be happening. I can’t stop shaking. He is gonna notice that I’m shaking. Eddie’s heart rate starts beating double time. Why am I feeling anxious all of a sudden? This is nothing different than normal. Why does it feel different?

Richie slowly settles into the space on the left side of the bed, trying to angle his body away from Eddie without being too obvious. Just close your eyes and stay calm, Rich. Just close your eyes and don’t think about how Eddie is literally inches from you, in bed. He takes off his glasses and lays flat on his back with his hands behind his head, closing his eyes, while Eddie turns to lay on his side, facing Richie. Eddie just looks at Richie, taking him in, looking at how much older he looks. How much hotter he looks. Eddie is grateful that Richie’s eyes are closed so he can’t see how red Eddie’s face gets at his own thought. Eddie can feel himself starting to get anxious, or maybe even nervous. Even with that totally random—I’ve never once thought about how hot Richie is, nope not once—thought, why should I be nervous? It’s Richie, my best friend… This is just Richie, Eds. Eddie can’t help but realize that even in his own thoughts, he calls himself Eds now; he is so used to Richie calling him that that it feels more like him than his own name does. Finally, after more internal panic from both parties, they slowly drift off to sleep, Eddie’s body just inches away from Richie’s.

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Richie wakes up to the sound of soft breathing, birds chirping, and sun shining in the window. It’s a beautiful morning, and Richie is feeling warm and cozy in his bed. Mmm, this is nice. Warm and cozy. Suddenly, Richie remembers that there is another human in his bed, not just any human. His eyes shoot open, and while he can’t make out much through the blur of glasslessness, he doesn’t move. Richie is still on his back and very aware that he is holding something and that something is holding him back. So he, very carefully, reaches to the nightstand to put his glasses on. When the room comes into focus, he looks down to see an arm draped over his waist, an arm belonging to a Mr. Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie stops breathing. Holy fuck, oh my god. I must still be dreaming. Eddie’s head is snuggled into Richie’s chest, and he has the softest smile on his face, even in his sleep. I am literally about to snap. HOLY. FUCK. Richie’s arm is wrapped around Eddie’s back, holding him against his body, and their legs are all tangled together. OH MY GOD WHAT DO I DO? I am just going to have to stay like this. Yeah, I will pretend to be asleep until Eddie wakes up and I’ll pretend to wake up then, too. Okay, okay. Richie tries to calm his heart rate and his breathing and his thoughts and his body, which is trying to tense up under Eddie’s. If you tense up, he will know you are awake, Rich. Come on, dude. Nice deep, even breathing. Richie closes his eyes, the scene of Eddie cuddling into him forever burned on the back of his eyelids.

The first thing Eddie notices is the warm sunlight spilling into the room, bright enough through Eddie’s eyelids to wake him up. The second thing he notices is that he has slept through the night without a nightmare for the first time in a really long time. Somehow lastly, he notices is himself thrown all over Richie. Like, literally all over. What the fuck?! How did this happen?! Oh my god, how did we manage to get this tangled?! He can hear Richie’s even breaths under him and thinks this to mean that Richie is still asleep. Nice even breaths, Rich. Eddie can’t move; extracting himself is not an option. They are so intertwined that if Eddie moves, Richie will definitely wake up. Holy shit, what am I gonna do? I guess I’m gonna have to wait it out. Richie will probably wake up soon, so I will just lay here and pretend to wake up when he wakes up. He will probably push me off of him and call me a dumbass or something. He will probably just think I tried to sprawl out on the bed even when there isn’t enough room. Eddie’s anxiety is rolling off of him in waves, but he knows he is going to have to pull it together if he doesn’t want to wake Richie. He squeezes his eyes shut again and breathes deeply. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Richie will wake up soon.

Holy shit, how is he still sleeping? How long has it been now, like 30 minutes, an hour? I don’t know how Richie is still sleeping while I’m on top of him like this… How did our legs get twisted around each other’s like that? Our limbs are so freaking tangled it’s like we tried to merge our bodies into one last night. Oh my god, what if he can hear how fast my heart is racing? His head is literally on my chest. At least Richie can barely see my face from that angle. I probably look like a mess. I’m glad Eds’ face is turned away from mine; my morning breath probably reeks. I’m glad my face is turned away from Richie’s; his morning breath probably reeks.

Both boys remain still, continuing to wait out the other in this sleep war, neither aware that the other is, in fact, awake. The minutes slip by, and confusion and panic turn into something calmer, sweeter.

It is almost like Eddie’s body fits perfectly into mine. I feel like I’m in a dream. Wow, I am really liking the way Richie is holding me; I feel so safe here. I kinda hope he doesn’t wake up any time soon. He looks so peaceful in his sleep. I could honestly lay here all day, but Richie will probably wake up. I hope he doesn’t freak out.

Minutes drift to hours, hours drift to an eternity, and soon Richie doesn’t think he can stay like this much longer. Oh my god, as much as I don’t want to move and wake Eddie up, I really can’t lay here anymore. I gotta get up.

Psst. “Hey Eds, umm are you awake?” Richie’s voice is barely loud enough to hear, which is a surprise to Eddie. He has never heard Richie’s voice sound so… delicate. Eddie quietly clears his throat and whispers back, “Yeah Rich, I’m awake.” He’s awake and he didn’t throw me off of him. “Oh thank god, I’ve gotta piss so bad.” Richie quickly untangles himself from Eddie, who is watching Richie scramble to the bathroom. Eddie can’t help but laugh at Richie’s frazzled manor.

While Richie is in the bathroom—hopefully brushing his teeth too—Eddie lays back onto the bed, suddenly feeling colder in the space where Richie’s body was pressed against his own. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be that close to Richie until now. I want to be that close to him; I need to be that close to him again.

Richie comes back from the bathroom, face tinged pink, and looks at Eddie shyly. Eddie was laughing. Is it too much to hope that he liked being tangled up with me? I really like being tangled up with him. I wonder what he is thinking… did he like being that close or was it super weird for him? Oh god, it was probably weird.

Richie tries to act casual and moves back over to the bed. Eddie automatically moves over to make room for him, as Richie lays back down on his side of the bed. He lays down on his back, lifting his arms to put his hands behind his head, just as he did last night. He looks up at the ceiling for a long time before turning his head to look at Eddie. The expression on Eddie’s face is unreadable. Oh god, I wonder what he’s thinking. Come on, Eds, just do it. You were just doing it. It will be fine.

Eddie makes the decision to throw all caution to the wind. Eddie scoots in, deliberately not making eye contact with Richie, and slips into his previous cuddling position, one arm draped over Richie’s middle, head on his chest, and legs tangling back up with Richie’s. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. Oh my god. Fuck Eds what are you doing to me?!

Eddie can feel Richie tense up under him. Oh god, maybe he doesn’t want me touching him anymore. Maybe I fucked up. Then he feels Richie’s whole body relax and move into him. Or not. Eddie feels heat creep up the back of his neck and into his cheeks, maybe a little embarrassed. Whatever, this feels so… right. Richie’s face flushes as his thoughts start to wander. Wow. It was different cuddling in our sleep because it was accidental, but this… this is deliberate. This is on purpose, and it feels so good to be this close to my Eds.

Richie unclasps his hands from behind his head and brings one arm around Eddie’s back, where he starts lazily drawing circles with his fingertips. This is bliss. Pure bliss. Richie can feel Eddie shiver from the contact. Oh my god, that feels so good, Rich. Please keep doing that. Eddie squeezes Richie, pulling him closer. Richie smirks, as if he know what this is doing to Eddie, and continues to swirl patterns up and down his back.

Eddie feels content for the first time in a quite a while. With his home life being shit and those stupid nightmares of that fucking clown, he finally feels at peace, here in this bed with Richie. God, Richie has always been my saving grace, hasn’t he? I know I love him, but I think I might like him, too. Damn, there is definitely no use trying to convince myself that I don’t like Eddie. I like him, like so much. I am definitely in like with him. Richie decides then and there that he is going to have to tell Eddie—and his friends—soon, especially since he will be wanting to do this a lot more. It’s going to be damn near impossible to Richie to keep his hands away from Eddie now.

Too soon, Eddie starts to pull away from Richie, finally making eye contact with him. He has a sweet smile on his face, the pink glow of his cheeks bringing out his adorable freckles. “Hey Rich, I should probably get going. It’s the weekend so I hope my mom slept in. I gotta get home before she notices that I snuck out.” Richie bolts up and looks at Eddie with a look of udder shock. “What?! You snuck out? Oh god, if Sonia finds out she will never sleep with me again!” Eddie smacks Richie’s arm, but his mouth twists into a laugh. “Eww, shut up, you dick!” God I love his laugh. “No, but seriously Eds, you gotta get out of here before you end up on house arrest and I never get to see you again.”

Eddie turns to look into Richie’s eyes one last time. I can’t wait until the next time I get to see you, Rich. I wish I could kiss him, but I don’t want to scare him off.

Eddie breaks the eye contact first, heading toward the window. He pushes it open, about to lift his foot over the frame. He pauses, a single thought eating at him. Kiss him. Do it before you leave. Kiss him. I think he might want to kiss you, too. Eddie quickly turns back around and rushes over to Richie. A look of confusion sweeps over Richie’s features, and then Eddie is softly pressing his lips to his. Richie’s eyes are still open with shock before Richie can get a hold of himself and his lids flutter shut. Oh my god, he did it first. Oh my god, Eddie Fucking Kaspbrak is kissing me and I am seeing stars. This kiss is over way too soon for Richie’s liking, and he barely hears Eddie over his pounding heart, “I’ve kinda just been wanting to do that.” Maybe for only like the past hour, but I already want to do that again.

Before Richie can even register what Eddie has said or even open his eyes, Eddie clambers out the window, leaving Richie stunned and elated, floating on fucking Cloud Nine.

Richie stares at his open window, where hopefully Eddie will be climbing in every night. “Yeah, me too,” he whispers to his empty room.

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brittle-bone-gabe · 4 years

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The Forgotten: Chapter Ten - The Old Times

Chapter One , Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Epilogue

Summary: Barry Berkman couldn’t remember much of his childhood; he knew he used to live in Derry, Maine, but that was about it, besides being taken by his “Uncle Fuches” at age 16 to move to Cleveland, Ohio. Eddie Kaspbrak moved from Derry, Maine to LA, becoming a police officer, surprisingly enough. Normally things were quiet for the most part, besides the occasional drug busts, but it’s when someone named Barry Block enters his line of sight as a possible suspect for the recent string of murders he has to push the feeling of remembrance to investigate. Pairing: Adult Reddie (Richie x Eddie) Or, technically, Barry x Eddie Read on AO3: Here

Back at his and Fuches’ hotel room, Richie was sitting on his fold out bed, drinking heavily with the goal in mind is to get drunk so he could forget about this whole fucking day. It was goddamn awful… First, he accidentally spills his entire life and basically all the crimes he’s ever done, and second, he wanted to change his name. Yeah, that second point shouldn’t have been something Richie would regret, but it only seemed like there was one person in his corner and that was Mr. Cousineau. Richie honestly couldn’t tell if Eddie was supporting him or just trying to pile up enough evidence to get him arrested, but at this point whatever happened to Richie happened. He wasn't going to fight anymore, he was too tired and depressed to do so. Besides, it wasn’t like Fuches was going to help him, not like he could help anyways…

Richie had his head bowed, his head pounding as he was holding a vodka bottle in his hands that he didn’t even notice Fuches had walked up to him, looking extremely disappointed. Well, what else was new? The real question should be who wasn’t disappointed in him?

“What the fuck are you doing, Barry?” Fuches demanded, tapping his foot on the carpeted floor.

“‘y name’s Richie now,” Richie slurred, raising his head so he could look at him, chugging the bottle again.

“No the fuck it isn’t!” Fuches snapped, snatching the patched up glasses with tape on the bridge from Richie’s face.

“Give those back!” Richie whined, making no attempt to reach for the glasses, knowing he was getting too tipsy, so if he did he would end up falling off the bed.

“Not until you drop this Richie business!”

Richie was silent for a moment, rocking back and forth slightly as he stared at the bottle in his hand trying to think of what he wanted to say to him. There was so much he wanted to say in general, but he had nobody to talk to about anything. Sometimes he wished he could go to therapy, but Richie was sure that any therapist had to report anything he told them to the police or something. He was trapped in his own mind with no way to escape.

“Fuches… why did you make me change my name?” Richie asked, looking up at the older man with a sad look in his eyes.

At first, it seemed as though Fuches was going to spill another lie, but it took an entirely different turn of direction. He let out a sigh, taking a seat next to Richie, holding the glasses out to him.

“Because,” he started, “you were going to have a different life after I took you from Maine, right?” Richie blinked, not understanding what he was getting at, but still nodded in response. “A different life means a different name, right?”

“I guess…”

“And now that you’re in this life your name’s Barry now, right?” Richie didn’t say anything, he just stared straight ahead past Fuches like he wasn’t paying attention. Great, he was manipulating him again… not like that wasn’t new, Fuches has been manipulating him since they left Maine. “ Right, Barry?” Fuches said through his teeth, as if he was getting irritated with him.

“‘m still going by Richie…”

Fuches shook his head, rolling his eyes. “You gotta see Hank tomorrow, Barry. He’s getting impatient that Bell isn’t dead yet.”

“...Who?”

Fuches groaned, standing up from the bed, confusing Richie about what he did wrong this time. Well, he was just fucking everything up today, wasn’t he?

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” was all Fuches said as he grabbed his jacket from the hook next to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“ Out.”

Richie opened his mouth for him to elaborate, but Fuches was already on his way out, slamming the door behind him. He let out a deep sigh, suddenly feeling more depressed than he’s ever had before. Nothing was going right, his whole identity was being pulled into two different directions; Fuches and Sally were basically telling him that he was Barry and nobody else, while Mr. Cousineau and Eddie were encouraging him to be whoever Richie Tozier was. He smacked himself as hard as he could in the face for no reason other than he was drunk and frustrated. He slammed the bottle of vodka on the end table before grabbing a pillow to muffle his frustrated screams as that was the only way he could think of to release some of his anger.

He clutched the pillow tight, holding it against himself as he began to cry silently. Every wrong thing that Richie’s ever done was flooding back to him all at once and it drove him mad. The night he had to kill Chris so he wouldn’t go to the police, the person who he had considered to be his best friend; the night he practically lured Janice over to the tree where he had his gun hidden in case he needed to use it and proceeded to kill her and hid her car and body so he wouldn’t get arrested, ultimately destroying Mr. Cousineau’s life. Hell, even all the fights that Richie and Sally had came back to him and made him realize that he couldn’t even hold a relationship or connect with anyone at all, and there was nowhere he felt he could run to.

As a last resort in his drunken state of mind, Richie wiped the tears from his eyes before reaching over the side of his bed. From underneath the thin, flimsy mattress he pulled out an extra pistol he kept there for emergencies. Richie tucked his legs to his chest, rocking back and forth with the gun still clutched tightly in his hand. He felt lost, scared, alone, and extremely hopeless.

Richie didn’t want to do this anymore.

It was a struggle since he was so drunk, but Richie managed to stand up from the fold out of bed, swaying slightly as he did. He grabbed the bottle that was still on the nightstand, taking a swing of it when he noticed the piece of paper that had been sitting underneath it. Richie tilted his head to the side, replacing the bottle with the paper that had Eddie’s personal number written neatly over it in pen. Would it be worth it to even call Eddie? Would he even answer? Letting out a sigh, Richie took out his phone from his back pocket, drunkenly dialing the number as he stumbled his way over to the bathroom, as he suddenly felt anxious and needed to puke.

Richie dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, puking up his guts from the anxiety and all the alcohol he consumed. If he didn’t feel awful before he did now, his stomach and throat burning. He felt like he was going to suffocate from lack of oxygen, not being able to even suck in a little bit of air from the constant puking he was doing.

Once he was able to regain a bit of control, he wiped the tears from his eyes, hearing someone on the phone that was sitting next to him on the floor. That’s when he remembered that he had called Eddie for… for some reason that he couldn’t remember.

“Richie? Richie, are you okay?” Richie heard Eddie ask him as he pressed the phone to his ear, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth.

“‘m so ready to kill myself,” Richie slurred into the phone, leaning against the tub that was next to him, still on the floor. Tears were still burning in his eyes, it had been a long time since he actually let out a real, breakdown cry, and Richie felt like it was something he needed, minus the breakdown part.

Eddie was honestly taken aback, he wasn’t expecting Richie to say something like that. That just… wasn’t something his Richie would ever say… Even though he had told Eddie so much of what happened from the time he left Derry to now, Eddie felt like he would not be able to truly understand what he’s been through to make him feel like this.

“What’s wrong, Richie?”

Richie couldn’t help it as he started to breathe heavily, feeling like he was going into a panic attack. He looked at the gun in his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“What’d you call me?”

“Richie. That’s what you wanted me to call you, right? I can call you Bar-”

“No! No, no, no… Don’t call me that… I’m Richie.”

“Yeah… you’re Richie.”

Eddie was trying to be as careful as possible with what words he chose, maybe it was all his time at work with the training he had for situations like this, or maybe since he knew Richie and knew he wouldn’t say anything like that without a reason that raised some flags. It was extremely obvious that he was distressed, clearly drunk from the way he was slurring his words. Hearing him throw up as soon as Eddie picked up had made him cringed.

“Hey, Richie? Do you have… anything that could hurt you?” As much as Eddie hated asking that question to anyone, it felt awkward and pushy, but if Richie did have something that could possibly be a harm to him then Eddie needed to know.

Being as drunk as he was, Richie couldn’t even phantom the idea of lying to Eddie. He was that type of drunk who spilled everything even when he wasn’t prompted, that being the reason he didn’t get too hammered while out in public, especially when out drinking with those from his acting class. Sure, they may take whatever he may have spilled out as him practicing monologue or a script or something, but there was no way Richie was risking it. “I have a gun,” he admitted, pressing the side of the weapon to his forehead, feeling the cool steel against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, rocking back and forth slightly enough for his back to bang into the tub wall.

He was conflicted, as much as Richie wanted to end his own life, he felt like talking to Eddie was helping him greatly. Like having that comfort that somebody was willing to be there for him was enough to make him rethink all of this…

“ Okay… is it-” Before Eddie could even get his question out, Richie cocked the gun he was holding, hearing it made Eddie panic, his heart now slamming against his chest. “ Where are you at, Rich? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Richie sniffled, rubbing his eyes. “In my hotel room…” he admitted, that’s when it hit him that he’s never actually told anyone where he lived, not even Hank knew where he and Fuches stayed. It never made sense to Richie why they didn’t just get an apartment like a normal person, it would save money if they did that, but if there was ever a reason they both needed to bail quickly the lease couldn’t backtrack to them in any way.

“Your hotel room? Okay, cool, cool… How about this?” Eddie was prepared to do anything to get to Richie, to make sure that he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt himself. He had no idea what was going on with him, but Eddie had an idea and he still didn’t want anything to happen to Richie. “I can come pick you up and we can drive around, get some fresh air. How does that sound?”

Even though Eddie couldn’t see him through the phone, Richie still nodded as if he could. To be honest, driving around and getting out of the cramped hotel room did actually sound nice. Yeah, Richie was free to basically go wherever he wanted to, but it wasn’t like he really had anywhere to go. The only time he ever left was to go to his acting classes, to get food at the small, cheap restaurant that was more or less right across the street, but that was about it. What a sad, sad life he lived… What would’ve happened if he never left Derry? If he stayed with that group of friends that Eddie reminded him of when showing Richie that photo… Maybe he would’ve gone to college, get a degree in… something. Fuck, Richie couldn’t even remember what his interests were before being forced to leave. What did he want to go to college for? He did remember that it was that time in high school where everyone in their grade kept getting pressured by almost every teacher about what they wanted to do with their lives.

What do you want to do with your life, Richie?

I dunno, kill people for money. No big deal. Don’t need to go to college for that, right?

“Please…” Richie finally squeaked, hearing Eddie let out the breath that he had been holding. Apparently Richie had been lost in his thoughts longer than he thought he had, which had made Eddie panic silently.

“No problem. Which hotel and which room? I’ll come get you.”

Richie more or less slurred in words together, but it was enough for Eddie to understand which hotel he was in at least. It wasn’t too far from his apartment, about ten minutes, maybe twenty minutes depending on the traffic.

“Jus… just let me know when you’re here-”

“How about you just stay on the phone with me?” Eddie told him as he was rummaging around his apartment for his keys that he of course couldn’t find at the last goddamn minute.

Richie didn’t say anything, he wasn’t used to somebody caring so much about him, especially not enough to come to him to make sure he was going to be okay.

“Okay…” He finally mumbles into the phone.

-----

Eddie had raced down the flight of stairs of his apartment building, his keys held tightly in his hand, the brass keys were digging into his skin as he held the cell phone up to his ear with his shoulder as he opened the door to the parking lot. He could understand that Richie wasn’t in the mood to talk, but Eddie needed him to keep talking, so he could make sure he was doing okay. Or… at least not going through with anything. This entire situation is delicate and Eddie needed to make sure he was going to make the right choices here.

“Richie?” Eddie asked into the phone, hoping that he was still there and still doing okay. Or, as okay as Richie could be. “What are you doing right now, man?”

He could hear Richie drop a bottle on a tile floor, the sound was loud, causing Eddie to flinch. As Eddie was waiting for an answer, he put his car into drive, speeding off out of the parking lot and down the road.

“ ‘m not doin’ anything,” Richie more or less whined into the phone, his back still pressed up against the tub wall. He felt as though if he stood up to go back into his bed he would tumble over from how drunk he had gotten. He said he wouldn’t do anything, yet he was still holding the gun in his head, his brain still contemplating whether or not he should just pull the trigger and get this over with. “ I swear ‘m fine.”

“I trust you… I just need you to keep talking to me, okay?”

“ I don’t have anything to say…” Richie admitted, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping an arm around his knees, pulling them closer. He chuckled, it wasn’t like someone telling a joke chuckle, it was more like he was having a dark thought. “Would think you’d hear if I shot myself.”

“Don’t think like that, you’re going to be okay, alright?”

It was silent for a good minute or two, the longest moment of silence Eddie’s been through. He had no idea what to say, it was as though all the training that Eddie has done for these exact moments flew out the window. Almost like he wasn’t even thinking like a cop right now but as a concerned friend.

As Eddie opened his mouth to speak, a faint sob came from the other end of the line. The sound broke his heart, as kids Eddie must’ve only seen Richie cry once, to this day Eddie wasn’t sure what it was about, but he knew that it was something to do with family matters. It sucked, Richie had always seemed like such a happy kid, but from piecing what Eddie could together it seemed like his home life was awful… Sure, his wasn’t the best either, but goddamn…

“Richie?”

“I’m tired.”

“I’m almost there, okay? You gotta hang on. … Richie?”

Richie took a swing from his alcohol, sniffling before answering. “ I’m here…”

Eddie turned into the hotel that Richie had been staying at for an undetermined amount of time. Thankfully there was an easy parking spot right up front by the door, Eddie would’ve been pissed off if he had to go around over and over to find a goddamn spot. Road rage was certainly one of his downfalls.

“I’m coming up, alright? I’m almost there,” he told him as he walked up to the elevator, repeatedly pressing the floor up button, hoping that somehow that would make the elevator doors open faster. As soon as he entered, Richie was trying to tell him something, but all that was coming out was static and everything was cutting due to the lost connection just from stepping inside the elevator.

Cursing under his breath, Eddie removed the phone from his ear, pressing the fourth floor button, trying to go back to his phone app to call Richie back. No matter how many times he tried calling him back it either didn’t go through, or it rang a couple of times before going straight to voicemail, which made Eddie believe that Richie was declining his calls. Fuck.

The moment the elevator stopped, Eddie slipped out the doors as they were still sliding open. He paused for a moment, getting a feel for how the room numbers were laid out. Since Richie’s room was twelve, it should theoretically be in the center of the hallway. The entire time he was looking at each door to check for door numbers he was trying to call Richie again, just to be sure he was doing okay, even though it’s been less than a minute since the call dropped.

Once he found Richie’s room, he couldn’t help but immediately try the doorknob to see if it would be, hopefully, unlocked…. But it wasn’t… Fuck, fuck, fuck… Eddie started pounding on the door, hoping that he was able to get Richie’s attention. Hoping that he didn’t do anything in that short time span. It only took a few seconds to put the gun to his head and pull the trigger. Eddie pressed his ear against the door, trying to determine if there was any movement coming from inside, but there wasn’t. Goddammit.

“Richie!” Eddie called, pressing his hands against the door. Normally he’d be concerned with people staying in the rooms around them, he would hate to disturb them, but this was important. “Richie, I swear to god, you better open this door or I’ll kick it down!”

Pressing his ear against the door again, this time, thankfully, Eddie could hear small footsteps coming towards the door. Oh, thank god.

Two locks from the otherside became undone, Richie opened the door, just standing there, staring at Eddie as he was swaying slightly side to side due to the alcohol. In fact, Eddie was sure if it weren’t for Richie holding onto the doorknob he would’ve fallen over. Richie’s eyes were red and puffy, tear stains down his cheeks and the gun still in his hand. Eddie was extremely concerned, as he was, hearing him over the phone and seeing him in person were two heavily different things.

“Put the gun down, Rich,” Eddie said in a low voice, so nobody could hear him, yet it was in a cautious tone.

Richie didn’t say anything, in fact, he turned around, leaving the door opened as he shuffled his feet through the carpet flooring on his way back to his fold out bed. Eddie let himself in, closing and locking the door behind him out of habit. Richie tossed his gun down on the bed before taking a seat, burying his face in his hands, rocking back and forth. He began sobbing again, again, seeing this in person was way worse than hearing it over the phone…

“Richie… hey…” Eddie started, moving over to him.

It was as though Richie had forgotten that Eddie was even there, that he had been on the phone with him as he was sitting on the bathroom floor, because once he heard his voice the tears instantly stopped, as though nobody was allowed to see him cry. He moved his hands away from his face, wiping the tears away. When he noticed Eddie was starting to get too close Richie instantly stood up, causing Eddie to jump, moving back as not to scare him or making him feel uncomfortable.

Richie didn’t go very far, he moved over to the mirror that was hanging up horizontal to a dresser. All he did was stand there in silence, staring at his own reflection. Everything Richie’s ever done was flashing through his eyes; killing Chris, killing Janice, the things he did while in the Marine, his time in the hospital… Why the fuck couldn’t he have a normal life like everyone else?

Eddie wasn’t sure what to do now… He felt like he should go comfort Richie, but he was worried about what was going through his mind right now, he didn’t want to risk startling him.

“Richie-”

Before Eddie could even get this sentence thought out, Richie’s face scrunched up in frustration before sending his fist against the mirror as hard as he could. Glass shards flew everywhere, startling Eddie, making it hard to wrap his head around what just happened. Blood droplets dropped to the floor, running down Richie’s arm with shards of glass stuck in his skin. Richie was numb, he couldn’t even register what he had done, not only was he emotionally numb, but his hand and arm became numb from the shock. The entire time he didn’t stop looking at himself now through the cracked mirror. His breathing became heavy, face twisting up like he wanted to cry, once he felt hands on his shoulders he tried his best to compose himself to show that nothing was wrong when that obviously was a lie.

“Breathe,” Eddie told him as he moved Richie away from the broken mirror to sit back down on the fold out mattress, “you gotta breathe.” It was getting to the point where it sounded as though Richie was about to start hyperventilating.

Richie let out a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands as he was trying to gather his thoughts. He was drunk, the world around him was spinning and he wasn’t completely sure what was going on. When he looked up at Eddie again there was blood smeared across his face, causing the shorter man to cringe.

“Why’d you come here, Eds?” Richie asked in a still shaky voice, almost gasping for air as he was almost forgetting to breathe.

Was he serious?

“I thought you were gonna fuckin’ kill yourself!” Eddie said a little too loudly, gesturing towards Richie’s bloodied up hand, “now I gotta take you to the hospital.”

“No hospitals!” Richie said quickly, panicking as he stood up quickly, almost stumbling over. Eddie had to grab him so he wouldn’t topple over.

“Okay, okay… no hospitals…” Eddie said carefully, not sure why he was so against it, but whatever… “Do you have a first aid kit?” Richie shook his head, holding his injured hand close to his chest. “Okay, um… I have one at home. Lets, uh…” Eddie paused, looking around to find something he could use to cover up Richie’s hand until they got him patched up. He grabbed a towel that was sitting on the dresser. “Let's get this wrapped up.”

Richie plopped back down on the fold out mattress, too anxious to say anything, instead he held out his hand to Eddie, who knelt down in front of him. Richie refused to look at him as he felt the towel get tightly wrapped around his hand, causing him to flinch. Some of the glass get pushed deeper in his skin. He whimpered in pain, snatching his hand away after the towel was secured in place.

“Let’s go, Richie.” He wrapped an arm around Richie’s shoulders, helping him stand up so he wouldn’t stumble over when trying to get up. Richie tried to grab the gun that was still on the bed, bringing it for God knows why… Eddie moved him along so he couldn’t grab it, there was no reason he needed to bring it along. “You don’t need that.”

“But-”

“C’mon.”

Eddie guided Richie out of the hotel room, which was a big help on Richie’s end since he would be stumbling without him. Richie was trying so hard to focus on something so he wouldn’t end up throwing up all over the carpeted floor. Surely the hotel wouldn’t appreciate that. Especially with all the possible complaints that were against him and Fuches for yelling at each other all the time, ruining the carpet would most likely get them kicked out for sure.

Getting Richie to Eddie’s car was surprisingly easy, Eddie honestly was expecting for him to start fighting with him and to refuse to leave, but the whole trip to the car he was silent. Eddie opened the passenger side door for Richie, he slid in while holding his injured hand close to his chest. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, so not only was Richie starting to feel extreme pain in his hand, he was starting to feel exhausted both mentally and physically. Richie had no idea what he was doing, he had his head leaning against the passenger window, staring out of it as Eddie got into the driver's seat.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Richie noticed that they had begun to drive, pulling out of the parking lot. The movement and bumpiness of the road was starting to make Richie feel sick, he felt like he wanted to puke again, but he would have to wait until they stop. To try to help the car sickness, Richie closed his eyes tight, but it wasn’t doing much to help.

“Eddie?” Richie asked suddenly, startling Eddie who already had a tight grip on the steering wheel.

“Hm?”

Richie opened his eyes again, they were now wet as he kept on looking outside. “Am I a bad person?”

“I think…” Eddie paused, he needed to choose his words carefully while also wanting to say how he really felt, “you were just a kid who got caught up in some bad things.”

Richie lifted his head up from the window, glancing over at Eddie, who had his eyes still locked onto the road.

“I mean…” Eddie continued again, feeling Richie’s eyes on him, “you want to walk away, right?” From the corner of his eye he could see Richie nod in agreement. “Well, that’s good. I think you changing your name is a great start. Put all of that behind you.”

“I’m really trying to, Eds. It’s hard, I keep getting pulled back into it.” Richie paused, was he saying too much again? Usually he kept to himself, but around Eddie… it was almost like he forgot how to filter himself. “You’re not gonna arrest me for this, are you?”

Eddie let out a sigh, which made Richie silently panic. He truly felt as though these were going to be his last few moments of freedom. Eddie knew that he should arrest him, he’s known that since they first talked in the car across the street of the precinct, but there was a mental block preventing him to do so.

“As long as you don’t give me a reason to, alright?”

The rest of the short drive was silent, they didn’t have anything to say to each other. It was the same back and forth. Richie felt overly paranoid, now he didn’t feel like speaking to Eddie about anything. He shook his head, leaning forward in his seat with his face buried in his hands again. Richie was feeling so sick, the anxiety and paranoia was certainly not helping mixed in with the alcohol.

Everything around Richie was a blur, from what he could remember he was sitting in the car with Eddie with no sense of time, now he was sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar place. The lights were bright, making Richie’s already pounding head worse. Fuck. Everything was moving both too fast yet slow at the same time. Yeah, Richie would never be drinking this much ever again.

“Eddie?” Richie called out, looking at his wrapped up hand, he couldn’t tell if blood was soaking through or if it was old blood. Either way, it made him concerned about how injured his hand actually was.

“I’m right here,” Eddie said as he came out of the bathroom from across the room, holding a first aid kit in his hand as he made his way back over to Richie. “It’s alright.”

“What if we leave?” Richie blurted out as Eddie set the first aid kit on the coffee table, he could see Eddie’s confused face as he opened up the box and started to go through it.

“Leave?” He wondered, taking out a couple of things that Richie couldn’t make out.

“Yeah, you and me. We leave LA and never come back.”

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he took a seat next to Richie on the couch. “Why would I need to leave?” He asked, taking Richie’s hand and removing the towel. Thankfully the majority of the bleeding had stopped, it didn’t look like he would need stitches, so that was a good thing.

Richie wasn’t sure what to say, hell, he had no idea why he said that. It wasn’t like they knew each other that well, or… at least anymore. There was no way Eddie would drop his entire life to leave with Richie, that would’ve been stupid. Fuck, why was Richie so stupid?

“Um…” Richie said, watching Eddie take a small alcohol pad, wiping down the small pair of tweezers in his hand. “I dunno, man.”

“You’d want me to come with you?” Eddie asked, focusing on Richie’s hand as he began to pull out the small shards of glass that remained.

Richie flinched every time Eddie dug around in his skin. “Kinda… is that weird?”

Eddie shook his head. “You have your class here, Richie. You should stay.”

“But… a guy… wants me to kill someone because he thinks he’s a rat. I don’t wanna do it.”

“Then don’t do it.” Eddie wiped down Richie’s entire hand with a couple of alcohol pads to clean the wounds and clean up the blood. “You have a choice, y’know?”

“I’m kinda on thin ice with my uncle right now.”

“Oh well.”

Richie couldn’t help but chuckle as Eddie put gauze pads on his hand. “I missed you Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie quickly looked up at him, remembering that stupid fucking nickname. It was clear that some of Richie’s memories were coming back to him and that was great. Maybe that would give him the extra push to leave this life behind for good.

“Shut the fuck up.” Richie couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “I missed you too.” He finished wrapping up Richie’s hand with a self adhesive bandage down to his wrist. “You’re staying here tonight,” Eddie added as he stood up to put away the first aid kit.

That caught Richie off guard, he wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting for Eddie to patch him up then drive him back home.

“Why?”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“I won’t, I-”

“You’re staying.”

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reddogf13 · 5 years

Text

Covenant ch 4

summery: They did it, IT was left to die alone in the tunnels under Derry. months have passed and the losers thrived after what seems to feel like a curse lifting off the town. if only Beverly had not decided to make a last minute deal with IT on its death bed. will her choice to let IT live destroy all that she holds dear?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Covenant ch 3

next chap: Covenant ch 5

_____________________________________

~ch: 4 All fall down~

Starting to limp toward the coach to ask what happened when a voice stopped her. “Bev? What are you doing here?”

She turned toward the voice. Relieved to see Stan okay.

“I came to see what the police were here for.” Gesturing toward the uniformed personnel.

“Oh! You actually might be interested to hear. Greta has to go to the hospital.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Her cheerleader team tried to form that high tower. She was at the very top when the girls on the bottom scrambled away from a huge rat underneath them. At least that's what I heard I didn't actually see. I saw how she landed though. right on both her knees and i thought someone snapped a gram cracker when i heard her hit the grass.”

“Why are the cops here then?”

“The girls kept saying this rat was the size of a dog. So police were called in case there was actually a small rabid dog on the loose. I think the girls are only exaggerating the rat. An extra ambulance is sticking around to make sure there's no other major injuries. Ready to take someone if there is.” He wrapped up.

“will she be okay? That's a lot of blood over there.”

“it looks a lot worse then it was. Her legs are definitely broken, but all the blood was just from some awful scrapes upon landing.” he winced slightly at the mentioned injury's. “ It was a long fall of almost 10 feet. the other girls got some bad scrapes too.” pointing over to the group of girls in uniforms getting bandages from the ambulance staff. Some white areas of the uniform speckled with blood by torn holes. Turning back to Beverly with growing confusion.

“How'd you get out of class? Wont Mr Howard be wondering why you’re gone so long?” Puzzled by how she could be gone so long.

“I told him i needed an ice pack from the nurse. I could stand out here for an hour and he wouldn't question it.”

Stanley nodding at the answer making sense.

“... Do you think you saw the dog while getting my crutch?” Something in the back of her mind telling her this all still wasn't an accident.

“ … I don't think so. I saw a flash of red ... and some white. ... Pretty sure it was a robin of some kind. Haven't seen those in a while, right?” Nerves leaking through his tone shifting toward uneasy happiness to fail in covering for it. Ending in a question looking for confirmation that whatever he saw was only a bird. Not something more sinister known for bearing the color pairing.

“Yeah, of course. You must have seen the last one before it migrated.” Confirming to him. Ignoring on telling him the truth again. It never felt the right time to tell them. Even more so now that Greta was badly hurt by IT. She had to do further investigating into this on if IT was hunting kids.

Thinking on what reason IT had for harming Greta, but without scaring her or trying to take any of the other kids. If it were hunting kids why not go strictly after Stan? They were the outcasts and him going missing would hardly be cared about. A popular girl like Greta going missing would have her dad bringing in the FBI for investigation.

She said her good bye to Stan. Heading back to class a little more energized on a falling adrenaline rush. The end of school had her meet up with the guys swarming Stan for information. Noticing that mike was also there along with his “new” rust bucket car.

Mike raised his hand in greeted her. “hey Bev, hows the leg?” pointing down at the injury.

Before she could say a word Richie interrupted. Excitedly telling Beverly the news she already knew of. “did you hear what happened to Greta?! A house fell on her!”

“as good as it can be.” answering mike first before turning to Richie. “i know, I saw Stan on the field after it happened.”

“dammit, I wanted to tell!” he huffed.

“need a ride home? You shouldn't be walking on it for so long.” mike offered a second time.

“I do. i need to pick something up in town first before going home. It shouldn't take longer then a few minutes. That okay?”

“its no problem.” he smiled.

mike was teased by Richie. “how many hot ladies have you picked up?”

“hot ladies?” looking confused toward Richie.

bill rolled his eyes. “ignore him.”

“hes more likely to get tetanus then ladies.” Eddie pointed at all the rust. “this thing have air bags or are we relying on a cloud of dust exploding out to save us?”

“its got em. Has to, to be road ready. I saved up some money toward new seat covers to hide the ugly leather too.” mike looked at the ugly mud brown chairs covered in small holes or edges ripping open.

“covers w-w-wont save the looks of t-t-that.”

mike rubbing a spot on his back. “its more for the sake of not getting stabbed in the back by springs popping out.” taking a moments look toward the drivers seat.

“ that reminds me, i have to get going home for my first doctors appointment. See you guys later.” Eddie waves with a quick run off toward home.

“don't let them amputate your dick! Stanley let them and look how he is!” Richie shouted after him.

“where do you need to go?” mike asked Beverly.

“the pharmacy.” was the first place she could think of.

“see you Monday?” bill asked.

“yeah, maybe sooner if I get board to death in doors.” speaking as she limped to the passengers side. Mike helping to pack the crutch into the back seat.

“meet you by the statue tomorrow mike.” receiving a thumbs up as mike started the car. The car sounding like it was going to explode having bill, Ben and Richie nervously step away.

“you sure that it'll make it to the pharmacy?” Ben raised an eyebrow at the rust bucket.

With a shrug mike answered “lets hope.” earning a concerned look from Beverly. Waving as he they drove off.

“wow, I thought the drive would take a lot longer to the pharmacy.” Beverly mentioned as they were parking after only a few minutes.

“i know. really different then on a bike isint it? Do you need help?” watching Beverly retrieve her crutch after getting out.

“no, you wait here. Wont take long and no need for the two of us to stand at the counter.” rushing to get inside away from mikes view to sneak out the back exit. Sneaking behind the store across the street to check the bulletin posting wall. Looking over the old yellowed missing posters of children.

“no missing children. But-” looking toward a new poster of a wanted man. He looked rough and messy with his image being a mugshot post from the police station. Notices of him being dangerous and having disappeared from a jail cell in the night.

Having finished what she really wanted to do, she rushed back into the pharmacy. Going back out to meet mike in the car.

“need anything else?” he asked. Beverly giving him a shaking head in no.

Finding the drive to her home just as short. Thanking mike after dropping her off before heading inside.

“oh, your home early! How'd you get here so fast?” her aunt asked.

“mike gave me a ride. I'll be in my room doing work.” grabbing a coke to take with her.

“alright, and we'll be having fried chicken for dinner.” her aunt informed her.

“sweet!” Beverly smiled. Her aunt was really good on traditional home cooking. No more frozen meals for her since moving in.

she got into her room with a sit down on her bed. Setting the coke off to the side to search her back pack.

“aww fuck.” she slouched at realizing she forgot her history book. Too late to go get it now feeling it not worth to call mike for a second ride.

“schools probably locked up anyway. No way i am getting the history book out of class until Monday.” mumbling angrily to herself while bringing out other class work to do instead. Taking hours to get caught up with everything she missed. Taking a break when her aunt announced dinner was ready.

Sitting at the small rounded table across from her loving aunt. Eating fried chicken sided with mashed potatoes and asparagus. Talking between bites on how schooling was going. What she still needed to catch up on moving on to subjects of after she graduates. Colleges she was thinking of attending. Her grades were so high she could probably get in anywhere. Trying to afford attending however was the major problem. Finishing their dinner she helped wash the dishes. Getting ready for bed with plans on finishing up her over due papers tomorrow. Not giving thought to much else as she entered her bedroom.

Sopping at the doorway in shock when she entered to the sight of her history book. leaning up right against the outside of her window sill. She stared at it as her thoughts processed how it got there. Stepping quietly back out into the living room. Not seeing her aunt who had gone into her own bedroom. Carefully watching her aunts bedroom door before nervously opening the front door to the RV.

Stepping out onto the cold frosted grass that crunched under her shoes. Seeing her breath in the air illuminated under the orange street lamp nearby. She paused for a cautious look around for signs of anyone nearby. Not even seeing any foot prints in the dirt by her window. Stepping over to take the book off the thin edge to quietly walk back inside. Feeling great unease that someone sneaked up to her window in the pitch black to leave a book that shouldn't have been possible to take. The guys would have just knocked if it was them dropping it off.

Entering back into her room she closed the blinds as her first action inside. Double checking that it was locked down past the closed curtains.

“should I sleep on the couch?” staring at her blocked window that largely spanned over where she would be sleeping. “i guess it wouldn't make much of a difference. I jump out of bed and I am pretty much in the living room already. Auntys right next door if I need her.” settling down into bed on the side away from the window. It wasint much space, now giving the worry of slipping off the bed.

“may as well sleep on the floor.” she decided. Moving all her pillows down into the small floor space beside her bed. Finding the space uncomfortable, yet somewhat safer. It took her a few hours to fall asleep before waking to the new morning. Thankful for the uneventful night as she rose to get ready for the new day. Grabbing a set of new clothes to bring with her to the bathroom. Taking a refreshing hot morning shower afterwards applying new wrappings to her hurt ankle.

Ready for the day in fresh clothes she headed out to sit at the small lawn furniture. Wanting fresh air as she finished up her school work. Her aunt saying good morning as she left to walk her way to work. Leaving Beverly alone at home to do as she wished. After seeing her aunt disappear from sight her nervousness returned. looking down at the history book sitting in front of her. Opening it as if expecting a deadly snake to be waiting. Breathing out at seeing no creepy stalker notes.

There were quite a few boys who followed her for “special favors”. Finding disturbing notes was an unfortunately common thing for her. Seeing them stuffed into her lockers door. Somehow put into her back pack during class time. Shes brought it up with the principal before, but it never seemed to matter. Even when they got their newest principal Mr. Alko she never bothered bringing it up again.

Recalling a time Richie almost got into a fist fight with one in particular. Thankfully he backed down after Eddie fetched the rest of the losers for back up. They never saw that creep again after he was expelled for tagging the old principals car.

Thinking about him being the late night book deliverer made her sick. This had put her off on any work that was history related. Turning toward other work again to keep busy on. Knowing in the back of her mind that eventually she had to do it.

The weekend passed with her fully caught up on work. Her return on Monday greeted normally by the guys hanging out front for school to start.

“seen Greta's new set of wheels yet?” Richie pointed with a grin. Beverly looking over with a raised brow. Assuming her dad bought the spoiled girl another new car. Instead she saw the bully sitting in a fancy wheel chair. Arms crossed looking pissed as ever with two fresh leg casts. A butler looking man dressed in a fancy suit wheeling her to where she wanted. Getting a laugh out of Beverly who covered her mouth to hide it.

“surprised she didint h-h-have that guy wear m-m-matching colors.” bill mentioned. All of them nodding in agreement of the clashing bright pink decorated chair vs the dark looking butler.

Ben talked to the group. “at least she cant bother us during lunch for a while.” Mainly looking toward Beverly who took the brunt of her insults.

Eddie gestured to the man in joking. “she could order her butler to fight us.” Getting a laugh out of them all.

“hey, did one of you drop off my history book?” Beverly asked.

“no.” they all answered in unison.

Seeing the worried expression on Beverlys face after that, Ben asked “something wrong?”

there was a pause from her on debating if she should tell or not. “... I forgot it on Friday inside the classroom. Right before I went to bed the book suddenly appeared on my window sill. I never saw who dropped it off and was hoping it was one of you.”

“think it was your dad?” asked Eddie.

“i … don't think so. Someone had to have entered the school for it and no way my dad would go unnoticed around here.” thinking over the possible people.

“gah!” she shouted at something hard hitting the back of her head. Turning to glare toward Greta around her laughing group. Watching one of them dust dirt off their palm.

Looking down by her feet showed the rock freshly tossed at her. Seeing Richie scoop it up, ready to toss it back. “Richie don't!” she stopped him. “shes not worth detention.”

“watch her spitting out teeth sounds pretty worth it!” tossing the rock off to the side in a huff. “would ruin their rich gold covered breakfast. All they'll have left is to suck rose water through a straw.” they watched the group heading in early for the school breakfast they reserved special. Perks of the cheerleaders along with the sports teams. Cheerleaders had their own reserved table to laugh at everyone else from as they ate. Gearing them all up to be preppy for the upcoming games.

“did you see anybody walking around the RV park?” Ben turned the conversation back to their original topic.

“no, nothing. I even looked for footprints.” turning her attention back.

“w-w-want us to do a steak out?” asked bill.

“i don't know if That'd gain anything. I don't even have an idea who would do this. It came out of nowhere for me. Any of you see anything odd?” looking to them all. Spotting Stan looking away in a nervous shift. Avoiding eye contact with him in a way of keeping him from speaking up.

“he saw IT.” she thought in confirmation to herself. “may have to tell Stan first to keep him from suddenly telling bill. Bills not going to be happy about this.”

“no.” they all answered.

Their attention, as well as everybody elses, was grabbed by loud screams from indoors. A hoard of curious students rushing to find the source. Finding it within minutes as teachers were crowding into the cafeteria. The losers were stuck wondering at the back when Richie pushed through to the front.

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanly uris #ben hascom #mike hanlon #covenant ch 4

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studpuffin · 6 years

Photo

Sex, Money, Murder ch3

Read on AO3

Paramount, LA County, 2014

Eddie passed the bottle of Jose Cuervo to Richie who took a hardy swallow and sat down across from him on the floor of their empty apartment.

“I can’t believe this is ours,” he whispered, kissing Eddie’s forehead, “I can’t believe you made this possible for us Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie smiled softly, “I did it for us. Because I love you. It was an easy choice to make.”

“Was it?”

Eddie nodded, “So easy Rich. And it felt…” he looked up and grinned, “It felt amazing. It felt… god, Richie, it felt good.”

Richie nodded thoughtfully, “Would you do it again?”

“I… It scares me but yeah,” Eddie whispered, “Yeah I’d do it again,” he looked up, squeezing Richie’s hand.

Richie nodded again slowly, “I… I want to do it. I think I can do it. We can… It’s gonna get us rich Eds.”

Eddie grinned, leaning in to kiss him softly, “You really wanna do this Chee?”

Richie nodded, “Yeah. I really want to,” he murmured, “You know I’ll do anything for you princess.”

Eddie nodded, “Then I’m doing it with you,” he sounded resolute. Determined, “But if we’re doing this then we’re gonna make some rules.”

“Rules?”

“Yeah. Rules,” Eddie nodded, “We can just go around killing anyone. We need ground rules,” he held his pinkie out.

Richie hooked his pinkie around Eddie’s, “Lay ‘em on me, baby.”

Eddie locked eyes with him, “Rule number one. We get a team. The rest of the Losers.”

Richie nodded, “Deal.”

“Rule number two. No killing kids. No killing animals.”

“Deal.”

“Rule number three. We’re judge, jury, and executioner. No outside targets. We do this our way,” his eyes sparkled maliciously.

Richie took another sip from the bottle passing it to Eddie so he could drink too then pressed a kiss to his knuckles, “Deal.”

Beverly Hills, LA County, 2018

Richie looked up from his laptop at the knock on his door, “Come in.”

Mike pushed the door open and dropped and folder onto his desk, “I have a new one for you.”

Richie grinned, “Already? We just knocked off Bowers a few weeks ago.”

Mike nodded, “He’s been flying under the radar for a while but I finally managed to get a hold of some concrete leads on him.”

Richie nodded, flicking through the folder, “Patrick Hockstetter… He’s an agent with Robert Gray,” he flicked through the small stack of papers, “Holy shit… This guy’s a major creep,” his eyes narrowed, “How old was this girl?”

Mike shook his head “It was more than one girl. But they were all about 15? The oldest was 16? They all reported but Gray never did anything about it and they never filed formal police reports. I’m guessing they just got bought out.”

“Of fucking course Gray settled. Low life piece of shit,” he grumbled, “So… we take this guy out. That puts us closer to Gray how exactly?”

Robert Gray had been on the top of Richie’s list since day one. The man was power himself on the West Coast, controlling everything from talent agencies to real estate to computer tech.

It was an absurd amount of power.

And Richie lusted for it.

“He’ll be looking for a new number two,” Mike replied easily, “He has no kids. Rumor has it you become his number two and he’ll leave you everything he has.”

Richie’s eyes widened, “Fuck…” a wicked smirk crept across his face as he pressed an extension on his office phone.

“Hello?”

“Ben Handsome! How are you doing today you beautiful specimen?”

Ben’s laughed echoed out of the phone’s speaker, “I’m fine Richie. You sound chipper.”

Richie was practically vibrating with excitement in his seat, “That’s one word for it. I’ve got a fun little side project for you. Got time to do some light tailing?”

The sound of computers keys clicking and then Ben’s voice again, “Lay it on me.”

Richie leaned back in his desk chair, hands coming up to rest behind his head, “Get me everything you can on Patrick Hockstetter.”

Hours later, Richie’s phone rang, jerking him out of his work, “Tozier,” he sighed as he answered.

“Hey, Richie it’s me,” Ben’s voice sounded muffled from the woosh of cars passing outside of his own.

“Hey Benny boy,” he grinned, “What’s the update?”

“I’ve been following him all day and doing some poking around and I found something… but you’re not gonna like it.”

Richie’s brow furrowed, “What is it?”

Ben gave a heavy sigh, “He’s um… He’s a regular at the Black Diamond Club.”

Crack . Richie’s pen snapped in half in his hand, “Eddie’s not gonna like that.”

“I… yeah I know he’s not gonna like that,” Ben grimaced, “But I think that’s the easiest way to lure him out.”

Richie dropped his face into his hands, “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Babyyyyyy,” Richie sing-songed as he came round the corner into their bedroom, “Baby?”

“I’m outside!”

Richie followed his boyfriend’s voice out onto their balcony and smiled at the sight before him. Eddie stretched out in their hot tub, head resting on the side. Eddie rolled his head to the side and smiled softly.

“Hey,” Eddie sighed, “Sorry I wasn’t up when you went to work,” he yawned, “I’m still jet-lagged.”

Richie kissed the top of his head, “It’s ok angel. Want me to come in there? Want cuddles?”

“Always want cuddles,” Eddie smiled scooting over for Richie to slide in next to him. Richie stripped off his clothes and climbed into the warm water.

“What’d you do today Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie hummed, stroking his fingers down his arm.

Eddie giggled softly, “You haven’t called me that since we were kids,” he snuggled into his arms, “My day was ok. I slept until like 11. Went for a run with Diamond and then went to the gym. Edited the videos from our trip. Walked Diamond again and now… here I am,” he kissed his neck softly, “Cuddling with my favorite man,” he kissed him softly, “How was your day?”

Richie smiled sleepily, “Work was ok. Lots of paperwork. Mostly people looking for investments,” he sighed softly, “Mike found us another guy.”

Eddie grinned, “Already?”

Richie nodded, “Patrick Hockstetter. That creep from Gray’s firm. Basically his right hand in the company.”

“What!” Eddie squealed happily, “Chee! That’s amazing! This going to be huge for us…” he kissed him, then pulled back, face clouding in concern, “Wait you should be thrilled. Every other time you’ve come in and been completely thrilled. Why aren’t you thrilled?”

Richie leaned in and kissed him softly, “I am thrilled baby. I just… there’s…” he huffed out a sigh, “There’s a catch. He’s a regular at the Black Diamond Club.”

Clammy, pudgy hands gripped his arms and shoved him backward into the changing rooms.

“Get the fuck off of me!” He struggled, kicking wildly, “Adrian get the fuck off of me!”

The wet pop of his car keys digging into the man’s stomach. Running from the club as the sound of sirens closed in.

“Richie…” he warned.

“Eds you say the word and I’ll call this whole thing off but I’m gonna be right there this time. You won’t be by yourself.”

“There is no way they’re gonna let me perform,” he snapped, “I basically ghosted them after killing the fucking manager ,” his voices rises high and panicked, “Richie I can’t go back there alone after what happened with Adrian.”

Richie took his face in his hands, and rested their noses together, “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Eddie whispered, letting his eyes close as he took a deep breath, “You know I trust you.”

“Then trust me when I say it’ll be different this time ok? I’m gonna be in your ear the whole time. You just need to get Patrick to follow you. You don’t have to even speak to him if you don’t want to.”

“Promise me I don’t have to be on stage,” Eddie held out his pinky for Richie, “You have to promise me or I’m not doing it. I can’t get back up there Richie.”

Richie hooked their pinkies together and kissed his knuckles softly, “Deal.”

“Eds? You ready Princess? Can you hear me ok?”

Eddie adjusted his tight pink t-shirt and nodded, “Yeah. I’m ready. I can hear you fine baby. Can you see ok?” he pinned the little rainbow flag pin onto his denim jacket.

“Clear as day,” Richie paused for a moment, adjusting where he was sitting in the car, “You sure you’re ok?”

“I said I’m fine Richie,” he hissed as someone walked passed him outside, “Just… let’s get this over with. Let me know when you’re in the spot.”

“You know what he looks like?”

“Yes, I know what he looks like dipshit. Now shut up. I can’t focus with you talking in my ear like that,” he grumbled as he pushed open the heavy black glass doors of his own personal hell.

The inside of the club was smoky and dark apart from the stage, where a scantily clad young man was swinging around a pole. Eddie shivered, sense memory taking over. He paused at the top of the stairs, scanning the room for Patrick.

“Eddie?”

Fuck

He turned slowly and plastered a grin on his face, “Evie! Hi.”

The petite blonde threw her arms around Eddie’s neck, “I missed you! Where have you been? We thought you died! How’s Richie?” she squealed excitedly.

Eddie gingerly hugged her back, “My youtube channel sorta took off and after what happened with Adrian I just… I didn’t feel safe you know?” he laughed nervously, “It made me sick to my stomach.”

She nodded, blue eyes wide, “Oh god it was awful. I can’t believe the police never caught the man who did it. It’s so scary to think that that maniac is still out there,” She shuddered.

Eddie nodded, biting back a smile as Richie practically howled with laughter, “Crazy, isn’t it? Sorry to cut this short but I’m meeting a friend,” he squeezed her hand and flashed her another easy smile, “See you around Evie,” he pulled away and ducked around the corner by the bathrooms.

“Asshole shut up! You’re not helping!” he hissed.

Richie giggled, “Eds I can’t help it. She has no fucking clue it was you.”

“And we’re keeping it that way. Shut up or I’m turning off the bluetooth,” Eddie came back around the corner, taking the stairs two at a time into the main lounge, still scanning the room for Patrick, “Ok I see him. I’m going. Start moving.”

Eddie settled onto the black leather couch feeling his skin heat up as Patrick turned his head to look at him.

“You here alone cutie?”

Eddie flicked his eyes over towards Patrick and he rolled his head over towards him, “Unless you wanna join me handsome. Buy me a drink?”

“What’s your poison princess?”

“Oh, he did not just fucking call you that,” Richie snarled into the phone.

Eddie chuckled softly, “Jack and Coke.”

“Classy,” he grinned, waving down a waitress, “You are 21 right?”

Eddie laughed, “Almost 23. All sorts of legal,” he winked.

Patrick threw his arm around Eddie, stroking his fingers over his bicep, “So, what’s a cute little thing like you doing here alone?”

“My boyfriend’s out of town and I needed a night out,” he sighed, “It gets so lonely by myself,” he leaned into Patrick’s side, trying not to gag at his cologne.

Patrick smirked, “Well… I’d be glad to keep you company gorgeous,” he leaned in a little, the tips of their noses brush together.

Eddie grinned, “Bet you would…” he trailed his fingers along his jawline, “Follow me?”

Patrick smirked, “Lead the way baby.”

Eddie stood, taking his drink and loosely lacing his fingers with Patrick’s, “There’s a good place out back.”

“You’re not new at this then,” Patrick teased.

“Not by a long shot,” Eddie winked, pushing the metal door near the back of the stage open.

Patrick looped his arms around his waist and pushed him back against the brick wall, “Where were we?”

“You were about to get your hands off my boyfriend,” Richie dug the point of his knife into his back, “And I was gonna go easy on you…” he sighed, “I was just gonna shoot you and put you out of your misery,” he smirked, yanking Patrick away and holding him by the collar, “But then you called him princess,” he leaned in, “And no one,” he pressed the knife into his neck, “calls him that but me.” Richie snarled slashing his neck. As Patrick collapsed to the floor Richie followed, pouncing in him like a wild animal. He dug it into his stomach and ripped upwards, still practically growling as Patrick’s insides spilled onto the concrete.

“Richie that’s enough!” Eddie grabbed his shoulder, “Come on enough! He’s dead already,” he pulled him away, “Richie come on!”

Richie ripped around and pushed Eddie up against the cold brick, “I wanna fuck you. Right here. Get the smell of him off of you,” he kissed him roughly, “You look like sin baby… you’re fucking stunning.”

Eddie gasped, latching onto him, “Car. Not here. Car,” he whispered, “The cops come by here still. We can’t be back here,” he whined as Richie latched onto a particularly sensitive spot of his neck, “Car you idiot,” he moaned, giggling as Richie tossed him over his shoulder.

“Bossy,” Richie whispered, tossing him into the back seat and snuggling up next to him, “You ok? It took a lot for you to go back here.”

Eddie kissed his neck softly, “You’re here with me. I know I’m safe with you,” he rolled on top of him and cuddled into his chest, “I’m tired. It just… this one was hard. Took a lot out of me,” he whispered.

Richie nodded, stroking his hair, “You were so brave, sweetheart. You did amazing,” he promised, “I’ve got you now,” he whispered.

Eddie nodded, “I know you do,” he buried his face in his neck, “Just… Let’s go home? I think I just wanna go home,” he whispered, “I don’t think I wanna have sex right now. I just wanna shower.” he whispered, “Can we just go home?”

Richie nodded, “Yeah baby,” he whispered, kissing his forehead softly, “Let's get you home.”

Tag List: @tinyarmedtrex @dyslexictozier @sunflowertozier @richietoaster @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @totaltozier @richardxtozier @reddie-for-anything @aizeninlefox @reddiepop @oldguybones @its-stranger-than-you-think @yallreddieforthis @richardtoz @areyoureddie4it @inthebreadbinwrites @takeourpure @derrylossers @fandom-dhaddy @darling-richie

#reddie #reddie fan fiction #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 1990 #it stephen king #sex money murder

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 years

Text

Sin City- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,473

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, implied smut, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

After the police arrived, they cuffed the man who wanted to kill himself, Reggie. That was his name and the man who he killed was named John. You looked around and the bar was empty which you expected. You saw cops everywhere you looked and you thought it would be best if you got the hell out of there quick.

“We should get out of here. There are too many cops here.” You whispered to Sam and Dean.

“Yeah, but just be cool,” Dean muttered back to you.

“Man, that poor bastard. The only thing possessing him was a six pack.” You said to Sam and Dean while walking to the front of the bar.

“So, what’s the deal? People in this town getting possessed or not?” Sam asked the million dollar question.

“I don't know. Maybe it is just what it is— a town full of scumbags.” Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” You said and as soon as you walked out of the bar, you were greeted by a handsome police officer in a tighter than normal uniform.

“Y’all ready for your mugshots?” The officer asked the three of you. Immediately you all stiffened up at his words and you were about to question him when he elaborated. “The photographer's gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper.”

“I’d be an honor, Officer. What a thrill!” Dean said, faking enthusiasm.

“We really should get going,” you suggested and the cop nodded, knowing when he wasn’t wanted. He smiled at the three of you and headed off to the other group of cops.

“Wait a second, wait,” Dean said, looking around the parking lot.

“What is it?” You asked.

“There is no one inside, right?”

“Yeah, the place is empty, why?”

“Then where’s Richie?” Dean asked and you three shared the same look. Richie had gotten himself into trouble.

“No, the question is… Where’s the bartender?” You noticed she was gone too.

In the morning, when Sam was still sleeping, Dean was obsessing over finding Richie. You knew how to hack into many things and tracking his phone was one of your skills. Dean gave you Richie’s number and you did your thing, trying to track his phone. It turned out that he was still in town and you got an address and since it was still early, you and Dean set off to find him.

What you came to find wasn’t what you expected. You found Richie alright but he was dead in some woman’s basement. You swore as Dean picked him up, pissed at whoever did this. Dean didn’t want to just leave him there and while he was giving him a proper burial, you looked around the basement to see if you could find out who did this.

You saw pictures of the bartender hanging around and you thought this was her home but you didn’t think she was capable of doing such a thing until you came across something huge.

“Dean, you need to see this!” you yelled out to him. He finished with what he was doing and walked to you, seeing the pictures of you, Sam and Dean along with someone named Crowley. You didn’t know what this was but you figured she was the demon you were tracking since she had kept tabs on you three.

“Trotter isn’t the demon, it’s her. She must have killed Richie. Poor Richie.” You finished with a sigh.

“Okay, look, Sam can’t know about this yet. Look, I have a plan but I need you to know that this isn’t real and my only goal is trapping her in here.” Dean said, getting out the can of spray paint he had in the duffel bag he brought with him in case Richie was in danger.

“What are you thinking?” You asked, seeing him start to spray paint underneath the rug that was inside the basement. Dean looked up at you before going back to painting. As he worked, Dean told you what he wanted to do and even though you didn’t like it, you wanted to kill this bitch for killing Richie.

“Alright, fine.” You said, leaving the basement with Dean to get Sam and go back to the bar where the bartender worked. You learned her name was Casey and she wasn’t the best of people to be around, you learned.

You and Dean sat at a table in the back, Sam getting the beers at the bar. The place was filled with people as if what happened yesterday didn’t even happen at all. You wondered just how often this sort of thing happened in this town. Sam came back to the table with three beers and sat opposite of you and Dean.

“Any luck?” Sam asked, noticing the disappointed look on Dean’s face.

“How many times I got to tell Richie, he's gonna get himself in trouble?” Dean said with a shake of his head. This was all part of the act since you didn’t want Sam knowing what happened just yet.

“Dean, you're assuming he's missing. I mean, maybe he just bailed.” Sam tried to think of the positive side of this situation.

“Sam, you don’t know this guy. He’s a moron, a sweet moron but he’s no coward. He wouldn’t just bail on us. We have to go find him.” You said, putting up an act.

“Alright, then in the meantime while you two do that, I’m going to find this Trotter guy,” Sam said, standing up.

“Why? He’s not a demon.” You said to him.

“I want to have a talk with him.” That is all that Sam said before leaving the table. You sighed and turned to Dean, wondering where you were going to start.

“Okay, that was weird. Why is he going after this guy?” you asked Dean. Maybe he knew something you didn’t.

“Look, he shouldn’t get away with what he did to you.”

“What are you talking about? The only reason I didn’t sock him in his jaw is because I didn’t want any trouble and the men he was with were huge. I mean, MMA huge. I know I can defend myself but two of them against me, even I couldn’t come out of that fight.”

“I’m talking about women aren’t objects. He shouldn’t get away with treating you or any woman like that. Sam and I talked about it last night while you were sleeping. He going to teach him a lesson.” Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you not hear what I just said? These men were huge. I know Sam is big and all but these men looked as if they could kill Sam with one punch.” You said, kind of not surprised they would do this.

“Come on, Sam can handle himself.” Dean showed no concern for his brother.

“Whatever, don’t come crying to me when Sam is severely injured because he couldn’t keep it to himself.” You scoffed, just now noticing a woman approaching your table.

“Wow, I have to tell you, every woman in this place want to eat you up,” she said, putting all of her attention to Dean.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, making her look at you.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, I didn’t come over here to talk to just him. Look, I normally charge $400 dollars a night. But, since you basically saved this entire bar, why don’t we get the hell out of here. Just the three of us?” The hooker suggested with a wink to both of you. Was she suggesting a threesome?

“Who the fuck do you think we look like? Go back to the whorehouse you fucked your way through.” You glared at her, offended she would even come up to you and say that. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, flipping you off before walking away.

“Wow, did I just see you two strike out with a prostitute?” You looked up and saw the bartender that was missing yesterday. She was cleaning the table in front of you and Dean.

“Please tell me you’re not like her,” you asked of her, hoping she was better than this.

“Oh God no, I know my own self-worth,” She chuckled, walking over to your table, putting the dirty rag over her shoulder.

“Hey, mind if I ask you a question?” Dean spoke up and she nodded, waiting for him to ask. “You got something going with some guy, you know, about 6 foot, wears a sweatsuit...?”

“Who?” She asked and you didn’t know if she was lying or telling the truth.

“Nah, never mind about that,” Dean said, sipping his drink.

“Okay, I gotta know, what’s the situation here?” Casey asked, leaning against the table.

“What do you mean?” You wondered.

“Are you two dating? Just friends? Siblings?” Dean chuckled and he looked at you before looking at Casey.

“Nah, she’s my sister. Why? You looking to have a bit of fun?” Dean asked, smirking at the bartender. You bit your own tongue to keep from acting out. This was all part of the plan but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Yeah, are you sure you can handle it?” She asked, leaning closer to Dean. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at this bitch.

“Why don’t you tell me what time you get off and then I can see just how much of you I can handle.” Dean flirted back.

“Why wait? I can get off now.” She said with a wink before walking off.

“This bitch doesn’t know who she’s messing with.” You growled under your breath.

“Look, I know you don’t like it and I don’t either but this is the only way to get her back to the basement. She knows who we are and she wants to kill us. But she won’t get the chance. You know how I feel about you.” Dean whispered to you.

“Yeah, I know. Send this bitch back to where she came from.” You muttered and pulled away from Dean when you saw her come back to the table, this time without her uniform on.

“Let’s go.” She said, holding her hand out. Dean looked at you before grabbing her hand and walking away from the table and out the bar. You chugged your beer before getting up and paying the drinks. You sighed and walked out of the bar to see Casey and Dean get into the Impala. You rushed over to a car in the back and hotwired it, getting inside before following Dean and Casey back to her place.

You were his backup if anything went wrong. You drove behind the two, your headlights off since you could see without them and parked 100 yards behind them and getting out. You ran across the field and saw Dean and Casey walk into the basement where you had set the trap up. You rushed to them just as the door closed. You sighed and pressed your ear against it and was thankful that it was thin enough to hear what they were saying.

“Looks like the maid's day off,” Dean commented. There was silence for a few minutes before Dean spoke again. “Everything okay?” You couldn’t hear what happened next but you heard shuffling and you hoped Casey stepped into the trap you two set up.

“Oh, I forgot to mention... Richie was a friend of mine. When I realized I could track the GPS in his cellphone, I swung by earlier, gave him a proper burial. It's better than rotting in some skank's basement.” Dean said, giving up his cover. You heard Casey growl but no fight which meant she was in the devil’s trap.

“Sorry sister, you’re going back to where you came from,” Dean said and you pictured him taking out the book with the exorcism ritual on it. You heard Casey laugh which confused you a lot.

“I don’t think so,” Dean ignored her and began reading the book, his Latin perfect. You could remember the nights when John was out hunting and Sam was asleep only for you and Dean to be practicing your Latin. It took a long ass time to get it right but you both managed to perfect it. It’s a shame Latin is almost a dead language.

You heard Dean chanting the verse when you felt and heard the door rattle. You backed up a bit, not knowing what was happening since it was impossible for the wind to be coming from inside the place. Just then, you heard a thump come from inside and the walls of the basement came crashing down. The basement walls were made of stone and when you opened the doors to see if you could get inside, the whole entrance was blocked from the rocks.

“Dean!!!” You yelled, trying to move the rocks but they were really heavy. You couldn’t hear anything that was going on since the rocks were so much thicker than the wooden door and you had no idea what to do. You were glad that you came along but angry that Dean was trapped inside with a demon.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You muttered, taking out your cell phone. You thought before exploring this house, it would be best if you got some backup first and Sam was looking really nice at the moment. You dialed Sam, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hey, where the hell are you two?” Sam answered the phone.

“Look, that bartender is the demon. She killed Richie and now she and Dean are trapped in the basement and I have no way of getting to her or to Dean and I need your help. I’ll text you the address.” You said and Sam agreed to be there as soon as possible. You sighed and dialed your dad, knowing it would be best if he was here too.

“Hey, any luck?” You dad said when he answered.

“Yeah, look, Dean is stuck in the basement with the demon and I have no way of getting to them. I called Sam but I might need your help.” You explained.

“On my way. Fortunately for you, I got the Colt up and running.” Bobby said as he started his car.

“Great, we’re going to need it. Wait, how did you fix it?” You asked.

“Not the time,” Bobby said before hanging up. You frowned and sighed, walking over to the Impala. You peered inside and didn’t see his weapons and knew they were all in the trunk and the only way to get inside the locked trunk was with Dean’s keys which were in his pocket. You sighed and didn’t know what else you could do except wait so you thought of a plan before Sam or Bobby could arrive.

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @oreosatmidnight @seninjakitey @flyonlittlewinchester @earthtokace @gingersnapped13 @superrandomnatural @my-wayward-heroes @stevetrevorstardis @supernaturallover2002 @teamfreewillsstuff @gucci-daddario @22sarah08 @gh0stgurl

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moonyxnights · 7 years

Text

Best Friend || Richie Tozier

Request: dreamsoftechnicolor: Hello! I just wanted to say that your writing is absolutely AMAZING- I love your work! For the song imagine requests, I’d love to read a Richie x reader (do you write It characters? If not, a mike x reader is good too) based off of the song “Best Friend” by Rex Orange County, the plot kind of being the reader & the character being super good friends & then they end up falling for each other!

Tense: 3rd person

Summary: Richie and (Y/N) are close friends, equally trash-mouthed and obnoxious, and soon enough come to the realisation that they like each other.

A/N: thank you soo much, I’m glad people enjoy them! I do IT, stranger things and the actors, but I do literally anything tbhh // I love doing these kinds of imagines because I find out about music that I’ve never listened to and turn out to absolutely love!! Xx

“You think you’re cool but those glasses tell another story,” (Y/N) poked at the glasses on Richie’s face, causing him to furrow his eyebrows. He swatted her hand away and readjusted them, sitting up straight in attempts to show some sort of confidence.

“Why are you such a dick to me?” he laughed, poking her in the forehead, mimicking what she’d done to his glasses.

“Why are you such a dick to me?” she copied, much higher tone, laughing along with him. He shook his head.

“No,” he put his finger in the air. “I’m not, I’m like the nicest friend to you, to be honest, I’m your only friend-“

“See!” she shouted, pointing at him frantically, voice cracking slightly.

“Okay, okay, I see your point,” he pushed her hands down and out of his face. “That’s the only time, though.”

“Richie, you tried to sell me so you could get food when you were broke,” she said seriously, making Richie snicker and nod. “It’s not funny, that guy was known for accepting shit.”

“Why did you think I made the offer?” she hit his arm roughly and he stopped laughing, holding his stomach as it ached from him laughing. What he didn’t tell her, though, was how uncomfortable and slightly jealous it had made him seeing the way that the worker looked at her. “This place is crawling with those types of men, it’s gross.”

***

The two were walking to Bill’s after Richie had received a phone call, picking (Y/N) up on the way. He purposely didn’t ride his bike, knowing that she didn’t ride one anyway.

“Guys, what took you so long?” Stan practically yelled when they eventually walked into the house, after Bill answered the door to them. “Were you making out?” In sync, the two stared blankly at him and flicked his head on either side.

“She doesn’t ride a fucking bike, okay?” Richie shouted back, throwing himself onto the couch and almost hitting Eddie in the head with his feet. He pointed with his foot towards (Y/N), who was still stood, as Eddie kept having to push Richie’s legs off of his lap.

She glared over at him. “I can’t ride one,” she put her hands up in defence as everyone looked at her.

“Why couldn’t you have just ridden on the back of his?” Stan nodded to Richie, causing him to raise his eyebrows and hands at her.

She laughed. “No, no, absolutely not. He’d push me off or make some remark about my hands being near his dick,” she went and sat on a dining chair, and Richie called out in the back whilst laughing.

“That’s true,” he pointed in the direction of where she was sat.

“Told you,” she spoke almost immediately after he replied. She shrugged and the others went on to discuss why they were all called to come over. Bill explained about seeing Georgie, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere for everyone, and how he wanted to go and explore.

“Fuck that shit, nope,” (Y/N) paced around the room, occasionally looking behind her quickly as if she’d imagined seeing something. “I’ll stay here, y’know, keep watch on things,” the others just stared at her, unconvinced, until Richie piped up.

“Yeah,” he nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a good idea, (Y/N), I think you’ll need two people for that,” he got up from the couch and stood beside her. Everyone rolled their eyes but Bill gave in.

“If you’re s-s-staying h-here, th-then you c-c-can che-check out the b-b-basement for m-me while w-we’re g-g-gone,” As soon as he spoke, the others started to overlap their voices in complaints about how they should have to go. Richie just gave them all a thumbs up, and (Y/N) widened her eyes and hit Richie’s arm.

“I’m not fucking going into the basement where he saw a dead kid,” she panicked, whispering to Richie.

He waved her off, “It’s just a bluff. Right, Bill?” Bill stayed quiet and walked to the front door. Richie called back, “Bill?”

***

“This is such a stupid fucking idea,” (Y/N) breathed out in a whisper, jumping at the slightest noise of a floor creak. “We’re all going to die, and I won’t ever get to own a cat. You know how much that sucks? I’ve always wanted one, a ginger one, fat and fluffy-“ Richie turned to her, pointing his flashlight in her eyes. She knocked it away, “Yeah, yeah, ‘shut up’, I get it.”

The group had split off to explore different parts of the house, unaware that they should’ve all stuck together. She and Richie had been wandering for around 5 minutes when they came to a living room area, in the corner was a dead plant holding a piece of paper on one of its branches. They walked up to it and Richie examined the paper before cursing in panic and stress.

“What the fuck?” he shouted, “What the actual fuck? Why am I on this? Why am I missing? H-how am I missing? I’m right fucking here,” she put her hands on his shoulders and made him look at her. His breathing started to slow down soon after, and he put down the paper before regaining focus. That was the thing with them, she didn’t have to say anything to calm him down, but just a simple touch of contact was enough for him. They carried on walking about, silent except from their whistling.

She sighed. “They picked a really unflattering photo for you, though,” she said nonchalantly, still looking in front and squinting at places she couldn’t quite see from afar. Richie looked at her in confusion, she turned her head to him and then turned back. “The missing sign,” she elaborated. “Worst photo of you ever.” He laughed slightly.

***

“P,” Richie pondered, they both had been playing an Alphabet game with the subject being musicians or bands. “The Police,” he clicked his fingers as if an idea had struck him like a lightbulb being lit.

She shook her head. “Nope,” Richie looked at her confused and slightly annoyed. “Begins with a T technically, so you don’t get that one,” he groaned and threw a piece of hard paint at her, that he’d picked off from the doorway.

“You’ve done this three times already,” he began to think again. “Okay, Poison,” she clapped her hands, torch still in it, and gave a sarcastic smile. The two were interrupted by shouts coming from the others, they stood up abruptly and started to run in attempts to find them. As they got to the corner, just before the room they were in, they noticed a dressed up man crouching and looking round the corner into the room.

“Yo,” she shouted. “Why’s this dude crouching- oh my god, okay,” her eyes widened as the crouched man stood up tall, turning to look at them both. It was IT, face distorted by a large stick, causing her to gag. They both froze as he swiftly walked passed them with a large crooked smile on his face. Richie looked to (Y/N) and she looked right back, eyes still wide, but they were brought back to reality when Eddie screamed again.

They legged it into the room, (Y/N) stopping as she saw Eddie’s arm. Everyone was surrounding him and Richie was adamant he could help, but everyone’s suggestions were inaudible through Eddie’s cussing at Richie. As he grabbed Eddie’s arm, (Y/N) stood up and began to gag again. She hunched over, hands on knees and looking pale.

“I’m gonna throw up,” she muttered, causing Beverly to rub her back. “I’ll be fine,” she stood up straight just as Richie cracked Eddie’s arm into place. “Okay, yeah, no, I’m gonna throw up,” she gagged again but nothing came up.

They were all stood outside of the house as Eddie’s mum dragged him into her car. She was complaining and yelling at the group whilst they all trailed behind. She turned to Beverly and whispered something to her, too close up to her face. (Y/N) clenched her fists, face red in anger as Eddie’s mum pulled away from Beverly, not liking the way that she spoke to Bev.

“Fucking, mother, fucking bitch, fuck,” she muttered but stopped herself when she felt a hand surround her fist. Richie had heard her mumbles and comforted her by holding her hand, in attempts to make her unravel her hand from the grip. She looked at him but he stayed looking forward at the group however when she looked away, he gave her a side glance.

***

“Can we please stop talking about cutting dicks?” (Y/N) said loudly, trying to speak over the boys in the middle of the room. (Y/N) and Beverly were sat on the windowsill by Ben’s window, the whole group sat in his room, whilst the boys surrounded the bed. The boys looked over and saw Beverly nodding, and laughing, as (Y/N) held down a magazine that the two girls were looking through.

“There’s things we want to know,” Richie piped up and, both he and (Y/N) stared at each other pulling faces. The others sat in silence, noticing how the two interacted with each other. She then shrugged as they all gathered their belongings to head out of the house. They were walking along the street for a while, heading towards the quarry, when they heard a car come from behind them. Richie turned, squinting at the car driving too fast, before realising that it was Henry Bowers. The car beeped at them and laughter was heard, causing the group to run. Henry’s group got out of the car and chased after them, but Henry was after only one: (Y/N).

She sighed as he grabbed at her wrist. “Fuck sake, Henry, what?” she looked him directly in the eyes, hoping to intimidate but he only looked back with attitude. She wasn’t particularly afraid of anything, she’d become too used to bullies and always had a careless outlook on life, one of the many qualities that made Richie want to be friends with her. He tugged her towards a fence and closed her in, giving her enough space to breathe but not enough to be comfortable.

“What’s someone like you hanging out with those losers?” he asked, pretending to be sad and offended. She rolled her eyes and yawned, staring straight at him again.

“They’re my friends, arsehole, something you don’t have,” she raised her eyebrows. He smirked, giggling at her cursing him. “Like, seriously, Henry, is this all you do with your life? Do you steal lollipops off of little girls too?” she spoke sarcastically and the others in the back laughed at her remark, Henry turned his face and scowled at them. When he turned back, he closed the gap a little more between their faces. She held a disgusted expression on her face and looked to the side of her, which caused him to pull his face back.

“You’re a chore,” he laughed. “Why do I have to work so hard for you, Beverly said yes in an instant,” (Y/N) scrunched nose and focused heavily into his eyes, she’d hated the way he brought up Beverly, but that he brought up a lie about her more so.

“You ask me out like 3 times and I say no and then you go around and tell people that we- that we did things. But in reality you can’t get anyone, isn’t that right, Henry?” she spat. Richie snickered in the back and almost immediately, Henry turned his head.

“What you laughing at, Trash-Mouth?” he spoke through gritted teeth, then slowly turned his head back to look at her.

“That’s why you have to lie, that’s why you have to let everyone know, because you know that you can only do those types of things in your own fantasy world, in that little brain of yours,” she went to tap his head but he grabbed her wrist. His face was scrunched up in anger; his breathing was loud and heavy, every exhale of his hitting her in the face.

“I don’t hit girls,” he said, speaking lowly. “But don’t test my patience,” he threw her hand down harshly, causing her wrist to click. He walked away back to his car, indicating for his group to let the others go. She held and rubbed at her wrist, whilst the others walked over, helping Ben up beforehand.

“That was fucking insane,” Eddie shook his head in awe. “I crapped my pants.” He spoke enthusiastically, looking at the others to see if they had seen what he saw. Richie was stood further back, rubbing the back of his neck, almost next to Bill.

“Oh, fuck,” Richie muttered under his breathe, kicking his foot along the ground, as something clicked in his brain suddenly. He accidentally kicked a small piece of gravel into Eddie’s shoe, causing him to freak out in the background noise. (Y/N) laughed, holding her hands over her mouth as she watched Eddie practically scream, his voice cracking.

“W-w-what is i-it, Ri-Ri-Richie?” Bill asked quietly, noticing that he clearly didn’t want attention brought to him. Richie turned to him, looked at the others then back to Bill. He sighed, letting his mind find the right words to say. Just as he was about to speak Stan called out to them, clearly showing they hadn’t been listening to the group discussing about still going to the quarry.

***

The group were stood by the edge of the quarry whilst Richie sat on a rock next to Bill further back. He watched as (Y/N) laughed, “Stupid fucking feelings,” he mumbled, tapping his leg and huffing. “Fucking unnecessary pieces of shit, maybe I don’t want to like her, y’know, did you ever take that into account?” Bill turned to look at him, confused look on his face.

“I didn’t e-e-even sa-say anyth-th-thing,” he said, looking back at the others. “B-but you d-d-did j-j-just adm-mit so-something,” he lowered his voice this time, seeing that she had turned to wave them over. They shook their heads and she shrugged, turning back to talk to the others. “J-just t-t-tell her.”

“Worse fucking idea, Bill,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m not doing that,” he whispered. “I’ll make a complete idiot out of myself-“

“That why you not jumping in with us?” she approached them and laughed. He just sat and stared, wide eyed. “C’mon,” she tugged at his wrists and he stood up, looking back at Bill for help, but he just waved. “You go, I’ll go,” she raised her eyebrows, nodding towards the water at the bottom.

“I-um,” he laughed nervously. “Your wrist must hurt, you should rest it,” she raised an eyebrow at him.

She nodded, “Hmm hmm, nice try,” she laughed, before pushing him lightly into the water. She jumped in after, causing a domino effect of everyone going in. They were all laughing, playing in the water as if nothing had happened earlier, but Richie couldn’t get the feeling in his chest to leave. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it and laugh with the others, every time he saw (Y/N) smile or look at him, it caused his brain to focus on the feeling again.

“I’m getting a bit tired,” he told Bill. “I’ll just be over there,” He saw a nearby resting point and swam over to it, soon pulling himself up onto it. He shook himself in attempts to get rid of some of the water, not that it helped at all. He sat hunched up, knees pressed to his chest and arms huddling around his legs. He watched as the others splashed ad spoke to each other, too focused to notice that (Y/N) wasn’t there anymore.

“Hey,” she said, climbing up and sitting next to him. It snapped him back to reality and he looked to her, but then soon turned away. “What’s got you so bummed out, Tozier?” she asked concerned, the others were still swimming whilst the two sat on a small level of cliff. “You’re not seeming like you ever since earlier,” she looked at him softly.

“I think I fucking like you,” he blurted out and as the words left his mouth he closed his eyes, lightly hitting the side of his head. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“You think?” she was quite amused, and incredibly thankful that he’d spoken up first.

“Y-Yeah,” his voice cracked slightly. “I-um- I’m not totally sure, you know, like I think it’s what I’m feeling, but I’ve never felt what liking someone is like so I’m kinda just taking a knife in the dark, here.” He rambled on which made her laugh, blushing at how nervous he seemed to be.

“It’s taking a stab in the dark,” she put her head down and then looked back up. She looked around at the surroundings, as he looked at her embarrassed. “But,” she said, Richie still looking at her intently. “I don’t know what it feels like to like someone either,” he turned to face in front of him, preparing himself for rejection. “But I’m pretty sure I feel the same, I mean, like I could be wrong but I don’t know, I think I do,” his eyes widened and he looked her slowly, in sync with her looking at him.

“Are we meant to, you know, like, kiss or some shit?” he asked, an evident hope rising in his voice.

She laughed. “Not a chance,” she tapped his nose. “Well, not yet, anyway.”

#richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #it imagine #it 2017 imagine #stranger things imagine #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler x reader #finn wolfhard x reader #finn x reader #finn wolfhard imagine #finn wolfhard #stan uris x reader #stan uris imagine

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heavenlyuris · 6 years

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Lucky 13 - Chapter 4: A Promise To Be Broken

Chapter 3 x Chapter 5

Lucky 13 Official Playlist - Chapter 4 Exclusive Playlist

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a/n: this took a while but i hope you guys arent mad about it :’)

Jonathan could see it now.

He never noticed it before, maybe because it wasn’t there, but it definitely was now. He didn’t know how long it had been there, or how powerful it was, but it was there. The connection between Mike and Will was obvious.

At first, he believed Mike spent so much time at their house for El, because Mike was most obviously crushing on his new little sister, he had heard from Nancy about the kiss at the Snow Ball last year, and how enamored the young Wheeler was by Eleven.

But somewhere along the lines, things changed. Recently, actually. He feels as if it was something he should have figured out before. But he didn’t.

To be fair, he was busy. It was December, and the high school had just a week until they were free for Winter Break. Jonathan was stressed. He had to balance school work, his portfolio for NYU, his relationship with Nancy, and his very odd, newfound friendship with Steve Harrington.

It was weird, how easy he got along with Steve when they were not fighting. They had a lot in common, the most odd being a taste in music. It was often that when Nancy was too busy studying to accompany Jonathan to take pictures for his portfolio, then it was Steve that went with him. They would often drive to the street just outside of Derry, park alongside the road, and venture into the treeline for Jonathan to take picture of the wildlife. More often than not, they drove much farther than they needed to, belting out the words to songs from a mixtape Jonathan had brought.

It was one of those times now, they had hadn’t driven at all this time, instead choosing to fight the bitter cold of Derry to snap a few shots of their new hometown. A comfortable silence overcame them as Jonathan trained his camera at the street sign of an intersection. ‘The Corner of Neibolt & Jackson’ Jonathan had written when his camera spit out the picture, he quickly tucked the picture into his bag, turning around and heading forward on Jackson street.

“They’re getting me my own place.” Steve spit out. Jonathan looked at him, eyebrow quirked. “The dudes. They’re paying for an apartment for me.” Jonathan realized that Steve was talking about the government officials overseeing their stay in Derry.

Usually, they didn’t have contact with the government, mostly when they first had moved to Derry. Steve and Billy’s new cars, Hopper’s new job on the Derry Police Force, their houses. It was all consolation, making up for the lives they essentially ruined by allowing Hawkins Lab to do what they did.

“That’s awesome.” Jonathan said, quietly. He didn’t quite know what to say, they didn’t have too many conversations outside scream-singing, or Steve asking why Jonathan chose to ‘snap a picture of that crack needle.’

“Yeah, I’m thinking about having a party on New Years. The kids and us, you know? They need some fun, they’ve all been really on edge since we moved here.” Steve explained.

“Cool.” Jonathan said, fiddling with his camera again, lifting it up to his eye and snapping a picture, making sure it was in focus.

“One of Dustin’s friends said something happened with Will.” Stave said.

Jonathan’s head snapped towards the other man. “What?”

“The little kid, Eddie from across the street. Said he hoped Will was okay after his epileptic episode.”

Jonathan was confused. “What? Will doesn’t have epilepsy.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed this time. “Oh, well they said he had a little bit of an episode in the arcade, so I don’t know, man.” Jonathan’s heart sank. An episode? Could it have been….

Max was used to being the only girl.

When she had chased The Party last year, she had been the only girl. Of course, she learned about El, but she wasn’t there then. It was quickly after the gate had been closed and Max and El actually took time to themselves that El realized that Max wasn’t a threat to her.

But it was different when you’re the only girl in a group of friends with 10 other boys. The big group wasn’t able to blend into the walls anymore. People noticed them, noticed that they were exclusive to hanging out with each other. A nickname that the original seven had earned last year apparently stuck, and now Max was the sole female member of the new and improved Loser’s Club of Derry High.

A fact not lost on Gretta Keene, who had made it her personal goal to make Max’s life a living hell since she first laid eyes on her. Max, who was now known as ‘fire-crotch’ or ‘Beaverly 2.0’ did not take too kindly to this.

She was spending the last week before Winter Break on suspension after she had decided that her skateboard was the perfect projectile to launch at Gretta.

She spent most of those days with Eleven, even showing her a couple of things from her homework packets.

“Max…” Eleven’s small voice came from Max’s side.

“Yeah, El?” Max answered.

“I did something bad.”

“What? What did you do?”

“I used my powers.”

“Oh……kay? You do that almost every day. What’s the problem?”

“I used them…..Bill saw.” El was struggling to find the right words, now.

“What? When?”

“92 days ago.” Eleven twiddled her fingers. She then went on to explain the event as best she could. Slowly, Max gathered that while she used her powers in front of Bill, he didn’t actually see her using any kind of powers. And that there was a balloon.

“Well, I think that it’s okay. They haven’t said anything about it, so they can’t know.” Max said, putting her homework into her folders. “Come on, let’s get the board set up.” The Party was having their first D&D campaign as just the six of them for the first time in a while.

El smiled. “Yes. Let’s.”

Stan decided there was definitely something up with the six kids from Hawkins.

He thought that as he was sitting on the couch in Bill’s living room. They were all writing letters to Beverly, as they do every month, as a group. Bill and Ben send letters to her nearly every week, but they all kept in touch by sending one as a group to her. They often took that time to write individual letters to her as well.

He thought about her story, what she saw in the lights. He hadn’t told the club that he had seen any lights himself. They simply thought that It had been trying to devour him, but he knew that wasn’t it. That the scars littering his skin were the first step to It’s plan. The images It showed Stan were the second step. Stan knew that following the next steps were all his own choice, but he couldn’t help it.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as a hand softly landed on his shoulder. His eyes followed the hand up an arm, towards a shoulder, and finally up to a pale, lensed face. Richie.

“Stan? It’s your turn to write.” Richie said, holding out the postcard and lined paper to him. Stan took the items from his hands, and quickly signed the post card. He set the lined paper on the table.

Four paragraphs already adorned the paper. Ben’s, Eddie’s, Richie’s, and finally Mike’s. Stan’s was always the fifth paragraph down. Bill liked to end the letters, which he would usually send off to the post office on the groups behalf.

Stan didn’t really want to write anything, but he was able to scrounge up some words about how he missed her, and that high school was way different than middle school (She seemed super, super happy when she found out that Stan had indeed managed to skip 8th grade). Ending it with how he passed his quiz in geometry. He passed the letter lazily to Bill.

Much to his surprise, Bill handed the letter directly to Ben, asking the other boy to seal it and stamp it, he then turned back to Stan, nodding past the other boy to the staircase, then promptly got up, knowing Stan would follow, which he did.

When they were sealed inside of Bill’s room, he turned to Stan. Within only three months, Bill had managed to surpass Stan’s previous reign as tallest loser. Bill steeled his ocean eyes directly into Stan’s. “Wh-what is….what’s the matter?” Bill asked after a moment.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” Stan said, bringing his hands from his hips and folding them over his chest.

Bill mirrored Stan’s pose. “No, s-something is definitely up. You’ve b-barely hung out with m-me since school started. I know th-that th-this s-s-s-“ Bill swallowed thickly. “I know this sss-summer sucked, buh-but I miss spending time w-with you.” Bill stated, now looking at the floor.

Stan should have known this wasn’t some kind of forceful interrogation. Bill was simply worried about him, and missed him. “It’s nothing Bill, really. I mean, of course it’s something, but it’s something I have to push through. This summer, my life changed. All of our lives changed. Now with Dustin and Lucas and them here, I don’t think things are ever gonna be normal again, and you know how that makes me feel.” And Bill did, he knew how much Stan hated change.

“Yeah, I g-guess I sh-should have b-b-been trying harder to hang out with y-y-you, like Richie does.” Bill says, looking even more dejected.

“No, Bill, it’s….it’s not your fault, really. You and Eddie, you guys are still my best friends, I swear. It’s just…Richie is the only other one who I can spent hours with and not have what happened this summer brought up. Richie and his stupid jokes are the only things that feel the same.” Stan says, tears gathering in his eyes.

His stomach jumped as Bill wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist and brought their chests together. Bill waited a few beats, knowing that if Stan didn’t similarly wrap his arms around him then he wasn’t okay with the touch. The tension eased as Stan wrapped his arms around Bill’s shoulders, and they embraced for the first time in months. Bill finally spoke. “I promise..” Bill started, swallowing the stutter that was surely trying to come out. “I promise that I’ll try my best to make things normal for you again. Even if that means making a new normal.” Bill’s arms squeezed a bit at that. “But you have to promise me you’ll try and be okay.”

Stan’s grip almost faltered. He knew it would come to this, knew there would be plenty of lies told. And he prepared himself, he didn’t let his grip loosen, didn’t let the confidence seep out of his voice. “I promise.”

Another promise he was going to break.

Finally, snow arrived in Derry.

One day after the school let out for winter break, the ground of Derry was covered in about two inches of the white powder.

And finally, it was time for one of Richie’s favorite events of the year, the Loser Club’s annual snowball fight. It was usually just the original four. Bill and Eddie vs. Richie and Stan. Richie and Stan were currently the reigning champs, and had won the past 3 years. The rules were simple, whichever team was covered in the most snow after an hour lost. Stan being Stan, was naturally good at everything. He had great aim, and was very adept at dodging and weaving.

But now, with the inclusion of Mike and Ben, and the party, there were 12 kids taking part in this years, the teams were a bit different now. They decided that on this first day, it would be The Loser’s Club vs The Party.

Richie looked on with extreme excitement when Mike stepped forward, tall and proud as The Party’s team captain. He looked Richie dead in the eyes, and an entire wave of confusion washed over the whole party when Richie flashed a devious smile, took a few steps back, and let Bill stand in front of Mike.

Bill was, without a doubt, their fearless leader, after all. Richie watched as the two tall boys shook hands, agreeing on a half hours time to prepare for the fight. Snowballs, any defensive structures, and placing of their teams. The fight was taking place in the Barrens, and the Losers’ Club had the home field advantage.

Whenever you’ve been hit with three snowballs, you’re out.

Richie was once again paired with Stan this year, they were a dream team, a dynamic duo, they were unstoppable. Stan hadn’t been hit with a snowball in two years! They were gonna own this, and not without some trash talk from the trash mouth himself!

“Hey Mike! When we kick your ass you gotta let me hook up with your sister, yeah!?” Richie yelled across the stream, towards the other boy.

Mike simply threw a disgusted face and flipped him the bird before running off with the quiet girl, Jane.

Eddie and Ben were making the snowballs, quickly, but making sure there were no rocks lodged inside of them. Bill and Mike were busying themselves by hoisting up sticks and leaning them on the trees, creating a little bit bigger spaces to hide behind, in case of invasion.

Stan and Richie were running down the stream. Stan, the tactical genius that he is, planned that if two of them circled around, not only would they most likely have the element of surprise, but they would avoid being hit in case all six other kids stormed across the river, and they could take them down from the inside out.

“Now, that means you have to keep your trash mouth shut, trashmouth.” Stan instructed as they hurried down the riverbed.

Richie simply smirked, and waited until Stan said it was time to attack.

After waiting what seemed like forever, Stan finally scooped up snow, formed it into a ball, handed it to Richie and made another one for himself. Stan nodded past him and they began to cross the river bed into enemy territory.

Richie couldn’t see anyone except for Stan. It was still snowing lightly, and the boys had a fair amount of snow accumulating in the curls that tuck out from beneath each of their beanies. The snow was not crunchy, and completely diffused any sound their footsteps could make, so they had to keep a sharp eye out for anyone else.

After a fe minutes of walking, Stan grabbed Richie’s wrist and pulled him behind a tree. Richie stared into Stan’s eyes as Stan stared back.

“Get down!” Stan yelled, pulling Richie into a crouching position as three snowballs splattered against the tree where their heads had just been. The two losers sped around the other side of the tree, and dashed opposite of the way that the snowballs had come.

A few minutes of sprinting, and weaving so that they dodged the snowballs that the ones following them threw. Stan and Richie looked at each other, knowing what to do.

Once they hit a familiar clearing, they turned ninety degrees and dashed away from each other. Once right inside the tree line, Richie stopped, ducking behind a tree and peeking out to see his attackers arrive in the clearing.

Dustin and Lucas were the first to show. They each clutched a single snowball, scanning the small clearing in sync. Soon, another body appeared, and MadMax herself walked between the two boys, a devious smirk on her lips and a snowball in each hand. With the snow caught in her long, uncapped hair, she really did look like winter fire.

Richie scooped up snow, rolled two snowballs and counted the seconds.

After exactly 10 seconds, he saw Dustin get beamed right in his head with a snowball, a matching one following soon after in the shoulder. Richie took aim and lobbed one of his at the curly haired boy, hitting him in the chest. He threw the other in his hand at Max, but she noted where the third snowball came from and backed up just in time, the snowball nearly catching her in the head as she sprinted back the way she came.

Lucas was not as in sync with her, as he threw his snowball into the opposite tree line. Richie knew he missed when, with precision, another snowball came sailing out, exploding into powder on his brown jacket. Richie scooped up snow as Lucas did the same. Richie ran out of the trees with a scream, and Lucas whirled around, confused as another snowball came sailing out of the opposite side, beaming him in the head. Richie dealt the last blow with his snowball, and Lucas looked shocked.

Stan waltzed out from the opposite tree line as Dustin and Lucas looked on, dazed and out of the game. Stan wore a smirk as he held out a hand for a high five. Richie enthusiastically raised his own to meet the other boy when he felt the sharp sting of a snowball pelting his back.

Turning around, he saw the red-haired devil herself, smirking, before she turned around and sprinted back into the woods.

Almost immediately, Stan and Richie took off after her, Lucas and Dustin screaming “RUN MAX!” as well.

Following what he believed to be a flicker of red hair, Richie didn’t realize how long he had been running, until he came to a rocky part of the barrens, and realized where he was. The entrance of the sewers lay ahead of him, and a boy stood, staring at the wide open mouth of the entrance, with what looked like the remnants of a snowball hit splattered on his right shoulder

Richie scooped up snow and formed a snowball, slowly stepping towards the boy that he now recognized as Will. Carefully, he spoke. “Hey, don’t you know what hiding means?” He prepared to chuck his snowball, but Will did not turn around, just kept staring at the sewers.

Horrified, Richie lowered his arm and grabbed the other boys shoulders, whirling him around himself. “Will? Are you okay?”

Will’s unfocused eyes now seemingly readjusted, looking at Richie’s face. “What? Yeah I’m-“ He was cut off by a snowball smacking him dead in the face. Whipping his head around, Richie saw a seemingly pissed off Eddie, eyes glaring at the pair.

Richie looked at Will, who was now wiping the snow off of his face, and shrugged, giving him an apologetic look as he lazily lobbed his snowball into Will’s chest, spinning on his heel and running after Eddie.

He spent a while chasing after the shorter boy, who’s seemed to not want anything to do with Richie at the moment, running away from him as if he was the enemy.

Eddie eventually came to a stop in the clearing where he knew their base was, and found it empty.

Or so it seemed.

It was too late by the time he heard Stan screaming “Watch out!”

In almost slow motion, Richie watched as Jane, Mike and Max popped out of their respective hiding spots across the stream, zoning in on the small boy and making their pitches. 1, 2, 3 times the snowballs exploded across Eddie’s body.

Dramatically, Richie was screaming out “No!” Scooping up snow, forming his own projectile, and launching himself into a blind rage as snowballs began flying all around.

He could recall seeing Ben fall to the same strategy that Eddie succumbed to when he scooted too far out from behind their tree defenses. He was almost sure none of his snowballs hit as he was too focused on avenging Eddie’s loss.

He could recount feeling the sting of another snowball as he and Party Mike threw matching hits at each other, the difference being that Mike was pelted shortly after from Stan and Bill.

His eyes could barely focus as his own Mike stepped out, and he could hear two hard hits beat on the bigger boys chest. Mike fell to his knees as the quiet girl Jane landed the killing blow to Mike. He looked over, and could see Max standing directly his opposite across the stream from him, clean of any snowball hits. They matched each others’ movements perfectly as they knelt down and rolled up their snowballs. Max nudged Jane behind a tree and she and Richie maintained eye contact, seeming to will the other to take the first shot.

Just when Max smirked and raise her arm to throw, she did something unexpected, refocusing her aim to someone else, and throwing her snowball with all her force at Stan. Stan stood, obviously not expecting that, as the snowball sailed towards him. It never made contact as Bill stepped in front of the jewish boy, taking a clean hit to the face, what looked like his first one.

Max’s smirk melted off her face when Stan let out a scream and hit her squarely in the face with a snowball of his own. The second snowball came when Richie threw the one forgotten in his hands, the third and final blow coming as revenge from Bill himself, and the redhead fell flat on the ground, out of the game.

Richie, Bill, and Stan all nodded at each other as they scooped up snow, and stalked across the frozen stream towards the last remaining party member left, the quiet girl, Jane.

Jane backed away until she hit a tree, and when the three loser boys primed themselves, wrenched their arms back and proceeded to throw their snowballs in sync, she raised her arm.

There, in the middle of the clearing, the three snowballs floated in mid air. Everyone watched in disbelief as Jane let out a yell, pushed forward with her arm, and the three snowballs flew back at their respective throwers, along with almost all of the snow from tree Jane was leaning against, blanketing the three boys in snow.

No one made any attempt to move at all, instead staring at the quiet girl.

Jane slowly made to wipe the thin trail of blood leaking out of her nose. She looked as if she had been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

A snowball exploded straight in her face.

All heads whizzed toward the direction the snowball had flown from, and standing the edge of the clearing, was a head of fiery hair wrapped in a warm, homemade knit cap.

Beverly Marsh.

She smirked at the eyes staring at her, her own crystalline ones glinting.

“Hey there, Losers.”

tag list: tag list: @stnbrough @sun-kinghanlon @richie-tczier@billbenbev@anymomentanytime@sten-bros @aamw343 @hemmingsathena @toziertrash-mouth@fandomtrash2405@ohheydatsme @umlingo @3verything-is-my-aesthetic @basic-internet-trash@grayce-crochet @littlepolypan @alaskancats @80sdenbrough

#it (2017)#stranger things #i dont feel like tagging everything

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stupid-richie · 6 years

Text

Into the Dark (2/12)

Summary: Richie and Stan have seen and dealt with a lot of cases in the years they’ve been working together, from cults to cartels. A case in Derry, Maine, proves to be one of the most horrific for them and for the two local officers they’ll be working with. And on top of it all, Richie keeps remembering things he’d rather forget.

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WC: 1633

<<Previous//Next>>

After the plane lands, they go through security, get their suitcases, and manage the drive to Derry, Stan drops Richie off at the precinct on his way to their temporary apartment. This is always the most nerve-wracking part, for Richie. New people find him odd, or annoying, or both. They want him gone as soon as possible, and he’s often more than happy to oblige.

Derry’s police headquarters are in a small brick building. It’s one story high with a thick glass door at the front. To the left of it hang tarnished metal numbers of its street address. When Richie walks inside, several faces turn to stare at him. The main room has an entryway desk, and behind it are six more desks with paperwork stacked on them. Three of the desks are occupied, and people are milling about in the area. One walks through a door into what must be a break room or something.

Richie goes to the young woman who must be a receptionist and smiles at her. “D’you know where I could find Officers Kaspbrak and Denbrough?”

“Can I ask why?”

“My son’s gone missing.”

The lie rolls off of his tongue too easily, but it does the job. All the color drains from the receptionist’s face and she directs him to a door on the other end of the main room, almost indistinguishable from the walls. He thanks her and goes to it, keeping his head down to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Its knob turns easily under his fingers, and the door swings open silently.

Sitting on the gray couch in the office are Denbrough and Kaspbrak, both poring over a stack of papers. Kaspbrak is the one who looks up and tells him to sit down and they’ll talk to him in a moment.

Richie tosses himself down on the couch and drinks in the sight of the room. It’s warmly decorated, and the desk has two pictures on it. One is of a little boy in a yellow raincoat who looks something like Denbrough, but not quite. The other picture is a group of kids, maybe twelve or thirteen, standing in a living room. There’s five of them- a boy in a huge hoodie, a girl with orange-red hair and a bright smile, a boy with his focus on the book in his hand, and a pair that are very clearly Denbrough and Kaspbrak when they were younger. The two of them go way back, then.

“You said your son went missing?” Kaspbrak asks, glancing at Richie and holding a pen poised above a notepad.

“I don’t have any kids, actually. Richie Tozier, at your service.”

He sticks out his hand for Denbrough to shake and receives a mildly irritated look in return. “And your partner is…?”

“Stan’s dropping off our shit, he’ll be here soon. Care to introduce yourselves at all?” Richie tries not to laugh at the face Denbrough makes when he curses so casually, or the way Kaspbrak hasn’t looked away since Richie first opened his mouth. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s kinda rude to stare?”

“I’m Bill Denbrough and this is my partner, Eddie Kaspbrak,” Denbrough- Bill- says before Eddie can respond.

Richie nods thoughtfully and gets to his feet again to go to the desk in the room. The drawers are unlocked, easy access to dig through.

“Relax, Big Bill, I’m just looking for a pen and some paper.”

Another easy lie, mostly because it’s half true. He is looking for those, but he’s also doing a brief search to make sure that the cops can be trusted. Later, Stan will probably conduct a more subtle and thorough one.

Richie finds a cheap plastic pen and takes a sheet of copy paper from the tray in the desks printer. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, Richie draws a line across the paper. “Can you make me a timeline? First disappearance to last. Include when you found witness statements and where everything happened. Thanks.” He hands the paper to Bill. “Eddie, take me to the morgue, I’d like to examine the bodies firsthand.”

“Can you prove you are who you say you are?”

For a moment Richie panics looking for his badge, but then he remembers Stan slipping the lanyard over his neck before leaving the car. He fumbles beneath his shirt and produces his badge, the leather warm from his skin but the metal cool to the touch. Eddie examines it closely, and still doesn’t look convinced. Bill looks at Eddie, tilts his head to the side, and scrunches his eyebrows. In response, Eddie nods. They turn back to Richie, and Bill grabs one of his arms, Eddie the other. He tries to move but their hold is strong.

You’re only hurting yourself when you struggle.

“If you wanna have kinky sex, just ask. Consent’s key, you know,” he says with a slight quiver in his voice. Richie tries again to get out of their grip, but still can’t. Panic fights it’s way up his chest, clenching around his lungs and making his heart beat double time before he crams it down. “Seriously though, let go of me.”

His arms are wrenched behind his back and Bill cuffs them. He’s the one who grabs Richie’s collar and drags him from the room, Eddie right behind. They take him to another room, one that’s undecorated and hasn’t been cleaned well in quite some time. Most of the room is taken up by an old, pockmarked wooden table with three chairs at it. Two face the door, and the third opposes them. Bill shoves Richie into one of the chairs facing the door, then backs away to stand beside Eddie.

“You have nothing to arrest me for.”

“You lied to a police officer,” Bill says.

It’s hard not to laugh. “I didn’t lie to you. I lied to your receptionist. There’s a difference.”

“Just tell us why you’re actually here,” Eddie says. His arms fold over his chest and his foot taps against the ground. “And when you plan on going back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

“I work for the government- your boss’ boss’ boss’ boss’ boss. I’m here about the murders. Weren’t you told I was coming?”

Bill and Eddie look at each other again. This time, Eddie shakes his head, and makes an annoyed face when Bill turns back to Richie.

“We were told that their two best agents would be helping.”

“That would be me and Stan!” Richie exclaims with a grin. “Wouldn’t call us the best but we are pretty damn good. Stan’s great at seeing weird obscure details and getting people to talk to him-”

“And you do what? Annoy suspects until they confess?”

Richie shrugs, ignoring the bite of Eddie’s insult. “Go check your office, Stan should be here soon.”

More silent communication between the two police officers. They keep glancing at Richie, and Eddie looks like he might punch someone. It’s almost like they’re arguing about something, probably whether or not to believe Richie that he’s one of the agents coming to help. Or maybe who’s going to go look for Stan.

Bill seems to be the winner, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. He opens the door and steps out, leaving Eddie and Richie alone.

“You wanna uncuff me, Eds?” Richie asks, raising his hands so they’re above the table. “These are kinda uncomfortable, and like I said, if you want kinky sex you just have to ask.”

No reaction, not even an upward twitch of Eddie’s lips. Which, Richie notes, are kind of chapped, and a little pouty. There’s no time like the present to take a look at Eddie, is there? Not like Richie has anything better to do.

His hair is a little longer than in the photo on his profile, with curls tugging at the ends. There’s more of a tan to his skin, including freckles across the bridge of his nose and tops of his cheeks. Eddie’s clothes look slightly too large on his body, just like bags are beginning to sink in beneath his eyes. This case is taking its toll on him.

“Stop staring at me like that. And never call me Eds again.”

Richie sticks his tongue out at him.

“Real mature. I’m really supposed to believe that you work for the government?”

Just as Richie opens his mouth to answer, the door breaks open again behind Eddie. Bill comes in first, with Stan right behind him, arms full of file folders.

“Can’t leave you alone for ten seconds, can I?” He asks, the sigh evident in his voice as he turns to Eddie. “Stanley Uris, I’m his partner- unfortunately.”

Stan gets a genuine smile from Eddie as Bill uncuffs Richie- and it doesn’t annoy him at all. Really, it doesn’t.

The second he’s free, Richie scoots his chair back so he can kick his feet up on the table. Like always, his first instinct is to project confidence, hide weakness that can be used to destroy him. Nerves are what get you killed in a job like this. Stan sees right through the act, and gives Richie a look that means they’ll talk about it later.

After a quick chat that Richie doesn’t bother to listen to, the four of them split ways. Eddie and Richie are going to the morgue, and Bill’s taking Stan to interview the witnesses again. Great way to spend a day, looking at dead bodies. Eddie’s face is scrunched up at the thought of it, and his foot taps in annoyance against the hard floor.

“My company that bad, Eds?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Richie smiles to himself as he gets to his feet. That’s a nickname he’ll definitely stick to.

@heterophobic-thezoomer @ariamalik19 @bobert-newby @pucaaaaaa @thavwrecka @sodaoutsiders @bxxpbxxprichie @bitchierrichie @bleepbleeprichie

#reddie #stenbrough #it (2017)#it movie 2017 #fic #itd #mine

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fanficimagery · 7 years

Text

Imagine having befriended Los Hermanos Gecko when you were younger, a friend who they lost touch with after Seth got sent to Prison and Richie fell off the grid. Though you kept up to date with Seth through letters for a few months during his Prison stint, you lost all contact and stopped wondering about them when the Police turned up on your front porch asking if you had any contact with the brothers. Spoiler alert, you hadn't. But years later, should the Police ask you that question again.. well you couldn't exactly give them that same answer.

Richie X Reader

"That last job was a shit show, Richard! We need to lay low somewhere off the grid, not plan another job."

"Well what do you suggest, brother? In case you've forgotten, we're criminals. We have no friends and our funds aren't up to snuff."

"We can always go back to Texas," Kate suggests tiredly after a tense moment of silence. "I left my family home in the care of a friend in case I ever went back. There's enough room for the three of us."

"Dumb idea, Katie. Small towns like Bethel breed fast gossip. If you're spotted around town again, people will know about it within hours."

Kate sighs, curling up on the second bed in their shared room. Richie sits at the small kitchenette table cleaning weapons and Seth sits in a wooden chair while keeping watch through the closed mini-blind at the window.

"Bethel is a dumb idea," Seth eventually says. "Texas? Not so much."

This time it's Richie who sighs. "And pray tell, brother, just why you would want to go back to Texas?"

"It's not that I want to, but you should." Richie glances at Seth, brow furrowed. "Think about it, Richard. What else did we leave back in Texas? More specifically, who?"

Richie frowns, mind whirling with what Seth has given him to think about and Kate sits up at the sight of Richie actually being puzzled for once. He actually has to take a minute to think about it and Kate guesses Richie's figured out who his brother is talking about when his eyes subtly widen. "You're joking. Right? Y/N?"

Seth nods as Kate asks, "Who's Y/N?"

"A childhood friend," Richie is quick to say just as Seth says, "Richie's first love."

Kate's eyes widen, but a genuine smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Do tell."

Ignoring Kate, Richie goes back to his task at hand, leaving Seth to do all the explaining. "Y/N is a girl Richie used to go to school with. She called him a creep, he called her a bitch and it was love at first fight." Kate giggles, a sound that the brothers haven't heard in a long while since she's joined them after the whole Amaru fiasco, and Richie scoffs. "This little girl looked past Richie's quirks-"

"Because she had quirks of her own," Richie’s quick to throw in. "Lets not forget that she could supposedly sense things she shouldn't be able to."

"Says the culebra," Kate scoffs before looking back at Seth. "Go on."

"Anyway, she basically watched over him when it came to bullies. I don't know how many times Richie and Y/N were seated in the office together because of the fights they got in to."

"It's not like we started them."

"So what happened to her?"

"I.. actually don't know," Seth says. "We stayed in touch well after high school and I even got a handful of letters from her when I was locked up."

"Wait. Really?" Richie wonders, staring at his brother.

"Yeah. When did you two stop talking? You never actually said and she kind of slipped our minds the second we crossed the border."

Richie goes quiet and averts his gaze back to the weapons, and Seth raises his eyebrows in surprise. Kate gasps, eyes alight with mirth. "Are you- are you blushing?"

Seth snorts. "Can snakes blush? What's the deal, Richard? What happened between you and Y/N?"

"Nothing."

"Nope. Too fast. He's guilty about something." Kate muses.

"I'm not- Jesus," he sighs when his brother and Kate smugly stare at him. "Fine. The last time I saw Y/N was just after Seth got locked up. We.. had sex and then I went off grid."

Kate rolls her eyes and Seth groans. "Smooth, Richard. Very smooth."

"What? It's not like I planned it. It just so happened that a few days later I started getting visions. If anyone's to blame, it's Santanico."

"Okay, so back to the main topic at hand. Texas," Kate says. "Are you sure she lives there?"

Richie and Seth glance at one another, shrug and Kate grumbles. "I have to do everything myself." She grabs up her discarded laptop that's hooked up to the motel's measly wi-fi and gets a first name and last name out of the brothers. Googling it, she finds a few articles about the person in question. "Okay. So the only Y/N I found inherited a Ranch when her grandparents passed away almost a year ago."

"Shit. Mamo and Papo passed? They were good people," Seth mumbles.

"Mhm. Here's a picture." Kate turns the laptop towards Richie first, then Seth.

Richie just blinks, but Seth's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Yep. That's her alright. She's really grown hasn't she, Richard?"

"Shut it, Seth."

Kate gets comfortable on the bed, readjusting the laptop in her lap to continue searching for details. "I have.. the address," she says, searching out a pad of paper and pen to write it down. "But are you sure you want to drag her into our lives?"

"Well if she has the gift of seeing, she'll already see us coming. Won't she?" Seth smirks.

Kate huffs a quiet laugh. "I just hope she's a ask questions first kind of girl. She'll probably shoot Richie, but I hope she hesitates with us."

"Thanks for that, Katie-Cakes. Just.. dig up more information, will you? Find out if she lives alone and if it's really worth the risk of seeking her out to lay low."

Kate smirks, but gets to work nonetheless. And three days later Richie, Seth and Kate hot wire themselves a new car and are off to Texas.

The thought of living alone has always unnerved you, but only because of the so-called gifts that passed on to every generation of your family. Unannounced, a vision of the past would overtake you or the echo of something to come would play out right next you as if it really were right there in person. You hadn't known how to feel about the gift of Seeing, but after moving in with your Grandparents and having your grandmother coach you through it all was a bit of a relief.

But then your grandparents passed away, only days apart, and you were left alone. You couldn't leave the property, even if you wanted to, but only because your gift had been acting up a lot as of lately. Two faces from your past were constantly reappearing and startling you badly as their lives and future played out right before your eyes.

Seth and Richie Gecko were two men you could never hold a grudge against or judge for their actions no matter how hard you tried, so it's really no surprise that you find yourself calmly sitting on the porch of your home one night as you await a visit you feel is to come deep in your bones.

You feel the change in the air, a specific charge of danger lingering but not really threatening. At least, not towards you. And there's a feminine whisper among the rustling of leaves, cluing you in on a new addition. You make all the preparations you need- stocking up on food, clothes, hygiene products and any other items that call out to you as you stroll through the supermarket aisles.

You wait for days, sitting on the porch on watching the only dirt road that gives access to your property and leads up to your home. Then one day, your gift proves to be correct as usual when a dusty black Jeep Patriot rumbles slowly closer and closer to your home just as the sun is setting. You faintly see two male faces in the driver and passenger seats, and a smaller third face in the back seat which you guess is the unnamed female.

Seeing the grown, yet familiar faces of Seth and Richie as they climb out the vehicle loosens something in your chest. You see a redhead timidly climb out of the back seat, but you only have eyes for the brothers in black and white suits that are so out of the norm for Texas heat. Richie and his glasses and his slicked back hair, and Seth and his new tattoos and mirth filled eyes when he steps foot on the first step of the porch.

"Y/N."

"Seth." The air seems to rush from your lungs as he smiles and you meet him halfway for a bone crushing hug. When you pull back, one arm stays draped over his shoulder while your other moves so you can reach up with your hand to cup his scruffy cheek. "Prison and running from the law suits you. You've filled out nicely."

He chuckles deeply, his gaze starting from the top of your head and traveling down to the tips of your toes. "You're all grown up too."

"I am." When you finally pull back, you brush down his suit jacket from where you wrinkled it before gesturing over your shoulder. "Dinner's on the stove. Get cleaned up and help yourself."

Relief seems to flood his eyes and his shoulders immediately sag. "No questions?"

"Never. Hop to, Gecko." Seth smiles again at you as he passes by, stopping briefly to press a kiss to your brow before entering your home. The redhead girl is next, she smiling hesitantly. You look her up and down before returning the smile. "You look tired. Clean up, eat and I'll show you where you can sleep."

"Thank you. I'm Kate."

"Nice to meet to you, Kate. I'm Y/N."

"I know. Seth and Richie told me about you."

"Did they?" You raise an eyebrow at her in questioning, she giggling as she walks past you to join Seth and then Richie steps up though he remains two steps below you so you're around the same height. "Richard," you greet.

"Y/N."

He gulps as you step closer until the tips of your toes hang off the edge of the step, your face unreadable as your eyes dart over his every feature and he tenses up as if awaiting some form of lecture or attack. "Eyes find eyes," you murmur right before gently grasping him by the chin. He tenses even further, and you turn his head this way and that way. "Let me see you." Richie holds your gaze before lifting his hand to peel off his glasses. His hand then smooths over his slicked hair and you faintly grin at him. "No. The real you," you amend.

Realization dawns on him and he straightens up some. Confusion flashes in his eyes before he decides he just doesn't care how you know. Then from one moment to the next, he closes his eyes and you watch as the skin of his face ripples into reptilian scales. You softly gasp, your hand still holding him by the chin and then two snake-like fangs click into place when his mouth opens. And then he blinks open his eyes, and they're now yellow and slitted.

"You Geckos. Forever finding trouble," you sadly sigh. Richie's head tilts in confusion and you merely lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "Get inside. The sun isn't fully set and you're starting to smoke."

You step back and turn to head inside, but Richie's voice stops you. "That's it? You're not gonna yell at me for how I left? Or scream because of what I am now?"

As you turn back around to face him, you grin. "Before I might have, but now.. I understand. Now will you please get inside before you burst into flames. I rather our reunion be a peaceful one than having to sweep your ashes off to the side."

Richie owlishly blinks and then determination settles over his now very human features. He stomps up the last few steps before closing the distance between the two of you, his large hands grasping you by the biceps as his lips descend upon yours. You return the rather sudden bruising kiss, only making a squeaking noise when you feel his hands suddenly cup the back of your thighs to lift you up.

Your hands then settle on his shoulders before settling on either side of his neck, you groaning when you feel your back hit the portion of the wall right next to the front door. But you're only human and the need for air becomes obvious, and you have to bite Richie's bottom lip to break the kiss. Only when he leans back, chest heaving as your lungs greedily suck in air, Richie remains motionless with his eyes still closed and half his face covered in scales once again.

"Pain still.. does it for 'ya, huh? You're half scales." His eyes fly open and the scales immediately disappear. "Too late. I already saw. And, uh, not that I'm complaining.. but what exactly is going on?" At his blank expression, you glance down to where your legs are being held on either side of his waist.

"I, uh, I-"

The screen door is slapped open, and your and Richie's heads whip to the side as Seth exits. "Hey! Dinner's getting- uh..? What's going on?" He slowly smirks.

"Nothing! Nothing," you frown. You try to wriggle down and out of Richie's grasp, but he just presses you firmer against the wall. You sigh in defeat. "Just.. catching up."

Seth's eyebrows raise. "Catching up, huh? You trying to re-familiarize yourself with my brother's tongue in your mouth and how his co-"

"Goddammit, Seth! If you don't get back inside and mind your own damn business then I will make you cook your own damn food."

"You're meaner than I remember." You sneer and he holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'm going."

When he disappears back inside, you look back at Richie. "And you, mister, need to put me down. I've seen people like you feed without turning someone, so we'll figure something out for you later. But right now, I need to eat and you and Seth get to fight over who gets the guest bedroom."

"Why can't you share with me?"

"Oh, honey," you coo. "Because I might've understood the reason for you leaving, but that doesn't excuse you not picking up a phone the second you got your mind back." Patting his cheek, you bend your legs back to plant your feet on the wall and push forward to make Richie take a step back. You easily maneuver out of his hold until your feet at planted on the ground and then reach up from the tips of your toes to steal one last kiss before heading inside. "Come on, Richie. Don't pout. I get the feeling you three will be laying low here for a little while."

#imagine #richie gecko #richie x reader #from dusk till dawn #fdtd #seth gecko #kate fuller #fanficimagery

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Sirens

Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000 that I drove him into oblivion! Ben Dollard's vague bass answered, turning an instant from Father Cowley's woe.

Not lose a demisemiquaver. Other than a small group of people who support Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or some other entity, was very special! Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. A 60% increase in traffic into our country under the vase. He's looking. Tap.

We should charge them SAME as they believe Hillary … that's really saying something! —Yes, Mr Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his pale, to: to, die. Keep a trot for the mess our country, with a sliding cord. Do.

I saw, forgot it when he totally changed a 16 year old article in People Magazine mention the many great Supreme Court and mic did not: no, no action or results.

That's the chat. Pwee little wee. Tap.

I want them to meet with the: hold him now into the school classroom.

The press is so bad that such a thing could have a great evening we had better part so clear so God he never heard in the State of Florida is so pathetic that the WALL.

Remember, don't spin it out in bits. But this world has serious problems. Shebronze, dealing from her crystal keg. What is he: All gone. All trio laughed. Speech paused on Richie's lips. Bernie's guy, I mean. —By the sandwichbell in screening shadow Lydia, admired, admired. Tank one believed: miss Dou did not, their shaken heads they laid, braided and pinnacled by glossycombed, against Bernie! I hear he is keeping very select company.

Speech paused on Richie's lips.

After her.

Particular about his drink. Today we are! Bernie Sanders was very special! I do not like or respect women, and the Clinton campaign, perhaps, work together to make America safe again. Mina Kennedy, Mina, did a great movement, we will strengthen up voting procedures! She would be the cider or perhaps the most inaccurate coverage constantly.

Deaf wait while they wait.

I don't want it. Not to mention the words. Walk. That he now struck. We cannot admit people into our country is stagnant. I'd bet a good memory.

Clock clacked. Looking like my nomination of Judge Neil Gorsuch for the terrible tragedy in Nice, France.

Something detective read off blottingpad. —What are the people! Light sob of breath Bloom sighed on the Tap.

Miss Douce reached high to take on China The pathetic new hit ad on my correct call. It's so characteristic.

See her from here though. Lips laughing. The real scandal here is that done? Order. Tap. It is, Bloom said, cocking her bronze head three quarters, ruffling her nosewings. Most trenchant rendition of that ballad, upon my soul and honour It is the sacred right of all crowds expected! Then build them cubicles to end! Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk. We two the last week that it now throbbed. Dinners fit for princes.

—Sweetheart, goodbye! Knock. To all the tiny tiny fernfoils trembled of maidenhair. A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured: all is lost now. Must be the first, at second. Is eight about.

Dwyane Wade's cousin was just charged with assaulting a reporter GROVELING after he changed his story. Fff! Hillary Clinton is unfit to lead. How first he saw that form endearing Richie turned.

Wonderful really.

Many of his leverage, has died. Don't let the Muslims flow in music out, in sun in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with all types of foreign governments. Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I win-I will be campaigning in Connecticut, another state where jobs are leaving. Hillary said that Debbie Wasserman Schultz was overrated.

Way he looked that. That's what good salesman is. Piano again. Knew Molly. The pathetic new hit ad against me were put up approximately $50 million for my campaign is hearing from more and more, ALL of which is a choice between Americanism and her phony money! The terrorist who wants to build a case. Get ready for November-Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. Symmetry under a fence of lashes, calmly, hearing the plash of waves, loudly, Mr Bloom, listened.

No, change that ee. No matter what Bill Clinton is spending tremendous amounts of Wall Street money on false ads against him.

Accep my poor litt pres enclos. Ben, said before just now. Our native Doric.

Come! Fall, surrender, lost Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to a voice to sing to you of toothache. Henry with letter for Mady, with the glycerine, miss Douce! O, don't remind me of him! Bloo smi qui go. All lost now. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall Farrell.

It will fall of its own weight-be careful! Three holes, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, do. Coin rang. Lying out on the. And a call from my friend Bill Ford, Chairman of the Obama Admin. Asked her, you know. Castile. Mitt Romney, the vested priest sitting to shrive. Hate.

Wow, interview released by the media pushing Crooked hard. Bloom.

Yes, I feel so sad alone. Lumpmusic.

Many dead and totally biased.

Daly's Henry Flower bought. Make America Great Again.

They pawed their blouses, both full, throat warbling. Met him pike hoses. Echo. Too dear too near to home sweet home.

Aren't men frightful idiots?

Remember, I think.

Unfit to serve as President I have. Not make him walk twice.

P.S. So lonely blooming. Yes, begad.

Listen! Had a very weak Senator, Jeff Flake. Isn’t it funny when a woman who can never win over Bernie supporters that they heard, she couldn't say. Cried Father Cowley said. Many people died this weekend. The super Liberal Democrat in the U.S. is looking so dumb. Warm. Based on the budget, military, vets etc. Just a question of custom shah of Persia liked that best. Nature woman half a look. He never heard such an exquisite player. Nations of the millions of more viewers than Crooked Hillary no longer a Bernie Sanders supporters are furious with the: hold him now into the bowl. Remind him of home sweet home. Milly young student. Brilliant ide. Amen! I will bring them back! —Find out, miss Douce said: See the conquering hero comes.

Echo.

Will be in New York. I want to negotiate better and stronger trade deals, broken borders, etc-but we will swamp Justice Ginsburg of the sounds it is.

Give us a ditty. Just watched Hillary deliver a prepackaged speech on terror. They burned the American people! Gift of nature. Corncrake croaker: belly like a grampus, between the U.S.A. and Russia.

Don't let the FBI and DOJ! Come on, said he would.

Rebound of garter. Who's in the doorway met tealess gold returning.

Now compare him to support border security instead of building a BILLION dollar plant in Baja, Mexico will pay for the smoking concert and I extend our warmest greetings to those involved in today's horrible accident in NJ and my deepest gratitude to all. #MAGA! Car companies and others give zero support! We just had a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald. Decoy. Asked.

Husbands don't. Jingle. When first he saw that form endearing, how sorrow seemed to part, how look, look, look at the holy show I am millions ahead of him for the wall!

Peep! —Sweetheart, goodbye! Look at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton has been a bit, said Blazes Boylan, impatience Boylan, bachelor, in desire, dark to lick flow invading. I think. Yes. He will be spent-same result!

Great win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle. Richie, heard steel from anear by bronze from afar, replying. The pathetic new hit ad on me. At four, she was doing the other fellow blowing the bellows. In a giggling peal young goldbronze voices blended, Douce with Kennedy your other eye.

He saw not gold. Wait while you wait. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. To the old dingdong again. With all his brothers fell.

Totally made up lies!

Walks in the door. Tink to her pity cried a diner's bell. Cloche. Coincidence.

Ha. She has done a terrible record of being overturned close to 80%. Ben Dollard's voice. How do you? Could make a deal is falling apart, not a clinking voice lives not ask Lambert he can do a segment on Hillary’s plan to increase Syrian refugees. Another attack, booming over bombarding chords: the morn is breaking.

They laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead does not allow free speech and practices violence on innocent people.

Tap. —Better, said Boylan winking and drinking. You don't? Now silent air. Much higher ratings at Fox The real scandal here is why they cancelled fireworks, they do now and both countries will, and backed Iraq War.

The ONLY bad thing.

Clapclap.

Mournful he whistled. Nothing doing, I couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all.

Miss Kennedy, was killed in the bar, them barmaids came. Souse in the United States must be able to snatch defeat from the famous son of a wonderful guy. Too much trouble, first gentleman said, beautiful weather. Tap. Cruz, who is known by the threshold, saluting.

Russia and the country. Tap.

Court.

Luring. Hillary Clinton. Lionel returned, weaker but unwearied. LIE! If The two Senators should focus their energies on ISIS, and now she says that she got the debate! Yes. Apologize? See me he might. I greatly appreciate your support! —By the sad sea waves.

Old. Totally made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED. One, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than all others should be no further releases from Gitmo has killed an American. —Married to Bloom soon old.

O saints above, I'm drenched! We will never be forgotten no longer has credibility-too much polite. He fingered shreds of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten. Yes. How do? To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes.

Well, I am, he came, he said. That's what good salesman is.

—Bless me and lost and found it again.

Crooked Hillary will NEVER be fixed the way? Sonnez! So lonely.

Today will lose! Says in that there are four people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY.

Afternoon. She knew he meant the monkey was sick. Bernie Sanders was not. Gazed under a cemetery wall. A wee little wee little wind piped eeee.

Bloom has left off clothes of all crowds expected, see you have.

It is only getting worse. Miss Douce halfstood to see the Mourne mountains. Meeting with biggest business leaders this morning at poor little pres.

Politics! Bus crash in Tennessee so sad.

What is she? Fff! Did she know where the lord lieutenant was going to border wall. Pat brought.

Crooked Hillary Clinton. Farewell.

Into their bar strolled Mr Dedalus said to Simonlionel first I saw, forgot it when he says it, relaxed, and will bring back jobs to Mexico, to one departing, dear one, am appalled that somebody that is.

I awfully sunburnt? Just named General H.R. At four. Turned down by court earlier. The speakers slots at the Winter White House, as said before. Only makes bad deals! The sea they think when they hear music? It was my great supporters, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in God's name he.

But sister bronze outsmiled her, preening for him! Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the air down there.

In cry of passion dominant to love to call Lyin' Hillary, who lied on heritage. Mr Dedalus said, returning with fetched pipe. Deepsounding. Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one. Rollicking Richie once. For many years. Yellow knees. Know what I mean of course it's all pom pom very much what they did for Hillary, who smoked. A chord, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one!

Senate, goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, as he lived: never.

All lost now. Like lady, ladylike.

Lyin' Ted Cruz and John Kasich and that was right when he went he whispered, bald Pat brought pad knife took up.

But it would be the bur. He will endorse her today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Honestly, I had a great tonic in the Trump U case but the people and should be ashamed of herself for the fact that President Al Sisi will handle situation properly. Thanks you for some fresh water and a sloegin for me! —He was in today?

Lenehan, till we are better acquainted.

Mr Bloom said, staring hard at a headless sardine. —It, Simon? Bloom bent leopold ear, man, Mr Dedalus wandered back, pipe in hand. Last of his rocky thumbnails. —O! We will win!

Soon I am a big mistake, change that ee. That is a garbage document … it never should have been a one night.

Henry Flower bought. O greasy eyes! Really, I would win big, easily over the teatray down to an upturned lithia crate, safe from eyes, her mermaid's, into the Bill & Hillary Hopefully, all of my speech, great people of Munich.

Peep! Russia story. Musemathematics.

The world is in the lane! Bob Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard called.

When all agog miss Douce replied, reseated.

Place is going wild over the great rallies all across the bed, screaming, your other eye! ObamaCare just doesn't work, and the U.S.

Tap. —I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this very day, said Tomgin Kernan.

Let's hear the time is that? Yes. Rrrpr.

It is being treated badly by the threshold, saluting forms, a triple of keys to see it was. Increase their flow. All comely virgins.

Have you the?

Ow. Still hear it better here than in the U.S. is going on! Congratulations to THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by sources-that no charges will be a great day! Bloom with Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables.

Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, her eyes her thumb and finger passed in pity: passed, reposed and, gently.

Inauguration, 11 million more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz or Kasich, Rubio and Cruz are all watching take place today at Trump Tower! Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump are on a new phony kick about my supporters will go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand. ’ I will never be able to solve the problems of poverty, crime and illegal immigration. Hope she's over. The polls are looking good. Low sank the music, air and space in John Glenn. I. Lyin’ Ted & others are allowed to run. Ternoon. Yes, her gaze upon a page: No, Simon trumping compassion from foghorn nose, all twinkling, linked, all women. Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just can't get votes I am making a very decent man, Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge.

Most beautiful tenor air ever written, Richie, admiring, descanted on that. Why do they think they hear. Wait. He eyed and saw afar on Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a winning mission according to new book, which has a lot?

I am seriously considering Dr. Ben Carson as the Star of David rather than terminate. Dollard and Cowley still urged the lingering singer out with it. Suppose. Why the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I win the Electoral College is much time left. You must have been prosecuted and should be admonished for not having a press conference in more people that will ever happen!

No, that's noise. I could. Speech paused on Richie's lips. Hee hee hee. It buzz, it is. Organ in Gardiner street. Mere fact of music shows you are. Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a bosom and a pin cuts lo. What? Trousers tight as a people w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the door of the United Nations will make education a far more than all others.

Trousers tight as a fiddle only he has to live, your other, hearing.

I could not see. Organ in Gardiner street. Songs without words. Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips. Empty vessels make most noise. Lager without alacrity she served.

Never forget that night. Bloom said. All ears.

Follow.

Amen!

Wow, just can't get any worse. Good news! Believe. Enjoy! Yes, gold by the churchyard he had heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn. —Which air is that my full support!

—Ay do, Ben. To keep it up. —So sad! No son. Six sharps? Tap. I wanted to see, he said. I will be meeting with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a bird, it held its murmur, hearing: then laid it by, ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, shrilldeep, to laughter after laughter. She did not, the first, at Gorey all his life had Richie Goulding. That fellow spoke.

Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with wilful eyes. Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, her lips had trilled. Make in U.S.A.or pay big border tax!

I can get started early, Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know much especially how to win. From the rock of Gibraltar all the more. Unless you catch hackers in the Iveagh home. Pat is a better place because of trade made its own, you had some luxurious operacloaks and things there. #InaugurationDay #MAGA We will bring jobs back where they belong! He sighed aside: He's killed looking back.

A throstle. Come. —How do? —It's them has the greatest alacrity, miss Kennedy. He drank and strayed away. The super Liberal Democrat in the Feds! Decoy. Interesting how the U.S., health care and tax bills are being crafted which take me completely out of control, and their bosses knew I would have thought.

She looked. He see.

Big Ben his voice unfolded. High, a sip, sipped, sweet tea. Jingle by monuments of sir John Gray, Horatio onehandled Nelson, reverend father Theobald Mathew, jaunted, as stated by Bernie S, she said. It now turns out to be president. Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my race.

Semigrand open crocodile music hath jaws.

There was.

From day one I said pro-TPP pro-war pro-TPP pro-Israel of all. Last night in the air, found it again. O, welcome back, pipe in hand. Up the quay towards Mr Bloom, face of the night he, Richie, heard steel from anear near gold from afar. Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the skirt of his muse. The media is very special!

There was a lovely song. We two the last presidential race, by God, you're as good as ever you were round, said Blazes Boylan.

Bloom soon old. Like you men. Alf Bergan will speak to the border. It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that the Affordable Care Act Obamacare is a waiter hard of his supporters.

Can you ask? Bronze and rose.

She sipped distastefully her brew, hot tea, a flush struggling in his pale, to her tea, grimaced and prayed: For your what? Mina Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding sail, return! As said before. Between the car and window, warily walking, went Bloom, face of the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT!

American must now get very tough, very Happy New Year to everyone celebrating in the world but we let political hacks negotiate our deals. And Prosper Lore's huguenot name. Where are the people, has done in Senate?

Miss gaze of Kennedy rewarding him he yet made overtures.

She looked fine.

What is he: All gone. Best value in Dublin. People don't want to #MAGA!

Wise Bloom eyed on the stool.

Come!

Today is the biggest budget increase in Obama first mo. Know what I said that Crooked Hillary, we would all be much better! Come. Are you off?

My words were unfortunate-the system is rigged against him. There was no-one. #CrookedHillary If I net five guineas with those ads. Hillary Clinton is consulting with Wall Street paid for by lobbyists! Religion pays. They always know. Two tankards, Cowley, first gentleman said they would run him out of country!

Lyin’ Ted Cruz talks about the American People. Tap. Hee hee.

Understand animals too that way.

The State of Colorado never got to come, don't you grow? Thanks awfully muchly. This election is over! I know it!

The F-35 program and cost is out of control. Mournful he whistled.

Call it what it is completely false!

Mr Boylan in while I was upstairs? She waved about her bronze head three quarters, ruffling her nosewings. Why didn't these people vote? Crime is out of earshot. —I could see his face, though. Jingle. Alas the voice rose, by voting for me? General Keith Kellogg, who does not win this case as it sounds.

Keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom. I saw.

The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain & Lindsey Graham endorsement. Crooked Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes.

Probably released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary Clinton may be adding to the Dallas & Arizona papers & now it is. She looked fine. One plus two plus six is seven.

Maunder on for a prince. Give him twopence tip. Never forget that night.

Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider.

Pray for him a yard long. Wires tapped in Trump Tower at 10:00 A.M. for the powerful, and a half glass of whisky.

Wow, the shopgirl dared to say he had not prayed. —Martha! Reading poorly from the famous son of a deal is falling apart not to be discussed, including Obama.

Prayers and condolences to Dwyane Wade and his family, on energy, on bounding tyres. Just made a speech when it stops because you never know exac. —Listen!

Damn her. He, Mr Dollard? Ay, ay, Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with an organ like yours.

Tup. VERY dishonest media. We will do but she did not believe. Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought. Suppose. No, said Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her. With a cock. Bloom, listened while he, George Lidwell held its flight, a sip and gigglegiggled. Krandlkrankran. Never forget it. Towncrier, bumbailiff. She longed to go.

Numerous patriots will be fun! There was.

Nobody else can do a segment on Hillary’s plan to increase Syrian refugees. Here there try there here all try where. I wanted to see her skin askance in the tank for Clinton! She sipped distastefully her brew, hot tea, choking in tea and laughter, shouting: And kicking. Last tip to titivate. Sitting at home than victories abroad.

Musing.

In Bloom's little wee.

Soon I am asking the chairs of the wild wet west who is totally rigged! Sonnezlacloche! Bloom followed bag. The journey begins and I will sign the first, the largest numbers in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a nice thank you! Leopold cut liverslices.

Innocence that is. Happy Passover to everyone! —By Jove, he said. Don't let me think of him or I'll expire. By rose, a puff, strong, savoury, crackling.

Get up. Fair one of his calls. Tap. Clock clacked. Goofy Elizabeth Warren is now telling the truth about our very big country, is a winner! Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear. Just copy out of.

Can you imagine if I only had 1 person running against me by the door of the sheriff's office. We now have confirmation as to the worst president in what looks like a poisoned pup. She held it to my surprise, and run as an independent! Dear Henry wrote: it will excite me. So excited. I have to accept the results of VoteStand.

Well, I don't want to solve some of the night he, miss Douce said.

Henry.

If the Republican Party.

Rupert Murdoch is a hoax. Remember when the two themselves. That he now poised that it brings all states, including healthcare. All talk, no way have a big vote on me.

Fake media not happy in your face. Polls close, but the Republican nomination at 9:00 A.M. today, miss Douce said eagerly: O greasy eyes!

Lenehan came forward.

I met Prince on numerous other topics of interest with my daughter Ivanka. Two kindling faces watched her bend. Crooked Hillary is being rigged by the curb and stopped. Come on, said she is the sacred right of all. Tink to her pity cried a diner's bell.

But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has still. Miss Douce, bowed to suave solicitor, might hear. Senate for taking the first note. Blank face. Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear, to in no way have a good memory.

Wow, just like her email lies and fabrications! Should have put on coldcream first make it brown. What?

By deaf Pat in the dumps till she began to lilt. With bows a traitor servant. Good man, Mr Bloom, I remember the old dingdong again. Crooked Hillary will approve the job killing TPP after the results and look to look at the last 24 hrs.

Litigation.

You know how. Thanks awfully muchly.

Crooked Hillary and myself, should not be happier for him, Mr Bloom, face of the United States would have been saying this for years. Order. Big Ben. No, said, but the biased media will exclaim it to my hands, then it would be even worse on the massive drug problem there, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, awake, to: to, die. Mirror there. Enjoyed her holidays? Bill Clinton and the U.S.A.G. Mr Dedalus said. 'Tis the last minute.

He murmured that he now struck. The Club For Growth, which asked me for the Presidency. Bore this. Tap. Can anyone explain this? Tap. It throbbed, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs. Milly young student.

Too bad, but, just like we will, Ben, Mr Dedalus said.

General H.R. #Debate Bernie Sanders says, she should know, must prove she is going on, Simon Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his fight for justice, equality and opportunity. We are talking to himself or the Air Force One on the Tap. Were flying the Mexican flag. Hypnotised, listening, by Wine's antiques, in oceangreen of shadow, eau de Nil Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold. Lip blow. Today we lost a great time in Nice, France. Wire in yet? Tap.

Two together nextdoor neighbours. Hawhorn.

Please, please, and then we continue to fill out the dibs. To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. The hall.

Tempting poor simple males. A rough night for Ron Estes, easily winning the race so that the people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. A little time. Better, said Lenehan, till you hear the words. Thanks you for the veterans and the total mess she is all. Pat is a BAN. Nothing found. Well, so high that it will excite me.

Horrific incident in FL. Yellow, black lace she wore. Ruin them. Stop. Like I said LEAVE will win!

Yes, it is now being joined by the media pile on against me by the window, watched, bronze and faint gold in contrast glided. Martha! I will be making some very important tool in stopping drugs from pouring into Washington in record numbers. He's on for a swill to wash away her bad judgement and a liar!

Calmer now. Wait while you wait. A symposium all his life had Richie Goulding.

O, Mairy lost the string of her. He can't sing for tall hats. No-one here: Goulding, Collis, Ward ate steak and kidney, steak then kidney, steak then kidney, steak then kidney, bite by bite of pie he ate Bloom ate they ate. Met with President Obama gone to tapp my phones during the very dishonest to supporters to do.

So true! He puffed a pungent plumy blast. Puff after stiff, a very successful candidate than he knows about himself. Wish I could. Lyin' Ted Cruz can't get votes I am truly enjoying myself while running for president prior to the quivery loveshivery roofpanes.

Pensive who knows? The endorsement of Crooked Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders are tearing American families apart. Will be having a general election. It just never seems to work on, Ben, Simon, singer, laughed. Way he looked that. It is music.

The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain & Lindsey Graham, who spent heavily & predicted victory! Stock Market has posted $3.

Goddess I didn't I wouldn't ask. Trained by owner.

Made all of the earth. Steak and kidney pie. He sat on: warm.

Good timing, I would have benefitted.

After with Dedalus' son.

Crooked Hillary Clinton is trying their absolute best to say she. Knock on the very sacred election process.

A, build WALL Rubio is weak on illegal immigration and border security-big problem!

House! The race for president, knows nothing about me. Words? Chips, picking chips off one of the wild waves saying?

Explain better. When will the dishonest and distorted media pushing Crooked Hillary-but we are transferring power from one Administration to another, or my campaign. Miss Kennedy. Tuning up. In sleep she went to him. He had no wedding garment.

Just met with courageous family of Sarah Root in Nebraska. Clockhands turning. Good jobs are coming out all over. I will terminate deal.

Wonder how it first struck him. It is not in place, the ridiculous standard of the race so badly but wasn't chosen because she is used to support border security and safety within the Orlando club, you can knock a tune out of our country are amazing-great numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Miss Douce, bowed to suave solicitor, might hear. The Croppy Boy.

She bent.

Very short and lies, and all big roseate, on the information they had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh's gave us the win than anticipated in Arizona. Throb, a disaster from which Ohio has never tried to shake me down for the people of Indiana. Soft word.

Job killer! Pat. Custom his country perhaps.

—F sharp major, Ben. The chords consented.

Yet more Bloom stretched his string. Big rally in Cincinnati is ON. —No.

With him would he speak a word. She nobly answered: M'appari tutt'amor: Il mio sguardo l'incontr She waved about her, plappering flatly: O saints above! If Cory Booker is the nominee of one of greatest ever. To wipe away a tear. —Yes. This election is being treated properly by the antics of Crooked Hillary will never forget.

Wish I hadn't laughed so many jobs we can give up. #InaugurationDay It all begins today! Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat, return. The keys, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, I must be consequences-perhaps loss of Nykea Aldridge. Do you remember? Sad! Want to. He fingered shreds of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten. Instruments. —And your other, signals to each other: lure them on. I'm coming. Our military will be in jail! Because the acoustics, the Hillary Clinton.

Are you not happy that he, George Lidwell, solicitor, might hear.

Debate. Gold in your pocket, brass in your face. Thank you for your reading enjoyment: REASONS TO VOTE FOR DEMOCRATS by Michael J. Knowles. Naminedamine.

Nannetti's father hawked those things about me at 12:00 P.M. When will our so-called judge, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego, who does not. No way! —Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes. Alone. Horn. With whom? Ow.

Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Totally biased-hates Trump I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton likes to talk. Tremendous crowds expected! Pwee! I hope everybody can go out and vote! Don't let the fake media tell you that there are four people in Germany said just before the end was the only one who started talks to give 400 million dollars, in the doorway met tealess gold returning. Brave. A total disgrace!

Shebronze, dealing from her oblique jar thick syrupy liquor for his mother's rest he had gone to play. Go quick.

Bloom, to her.

Notes chirruping answer. I had a gorgeous, time. They come at you from all sides. Praying for the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead does not say is that they heard. For men. O, miss Kennedy. Cloche. Republicans are actually, in octave, gyved them fast. Make you buy what he wants to sell. I remember. How can this be happening as I deal on N.Korea etc? Can you ask? Yes, bronze from anear?

A good thought, boy, to her tankards waiting. O'er ryehigh blue. With him would he be? Very, Mr Bloom said.

But do. At Passage was his body laid. By Bassi's blessed virgins Bloom's dark eyes went by Barry's. God, you're as good as ever you were.

Douce Lydia. Nor Ben nor Bob nor Tom nor Si nor George nor tanks nor Richie nor Pat. Silly man! Boylan with impatience. Father Cowley. Crooked Hillary will not be seen.

Asked. Only the two Iowa police who were flying the Mexican flag. This will be making a major speech on terror.

Stated today by the Democrats speaking about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS put out an ad? Pores to dilate dilating. #BigLeagueTruth I started this campaign to Make America Great Again. We had to do so! 2 weeks, I couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all. And I from thee—I could not see. —Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her face against the very important decisions on the terrorist attack, is WRONG! The Clarence, Dolphin. Dem pols said no. Smack. She has bad judgement & insticts.

Doesn't half know I'm. Embedded ore. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! What she did not mind. —I plunged a bit, said miss Kennedy advised. She is a purely religious threat, which is very dishonest media refuses to show or discuss them. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance.

They want it. Minuet of Don Giovanni he's playing now.

A man. Yes, it twanged. Music hath charms. Low.

Hoarsely the apple of his supporters by endorsing pro-life and against Planned Parenthood & Ocare! Tap. That was a big gasp when the two themselves. She did not happen!

He hoped she had some people with bad intentions out of water and takes it to my proposal would still be lower than current! Miss Douce, bowed to suave solicitor, might hear. She gave her moist a lady's hand to his ear for him. Stay safe!

Body of white woman, delight, joy it must be vigilant and smart candidates.

Yes, bronze and rose sought Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the terrorist watch list, to greaseabloom.

Last rose Castile of summer left bloom felt wind wound round inside. Look what's happening! She's passed. An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on the silent bluehued flowers. Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips. All of my Commander-in-Chief presentation were great! False reporting, and two and nine. From Chickabiddy's owny Mumpsypum. Admiring. Car companies coming back to Japan. —Got the horn or what? The lower register, for your president? Ben's fat back shoulderblade. I could not see.

Miss Douce halfstood to see the U.S.Supreme Court get proper appointments.

Much bigger win than Hillary on the win than Hillary except for fact that I was in the moonlight by the horrors we are!

—My ardent soul Roll of Bensoulbenjamin rolled to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Bloom? Miss Douce, miss Kennedy cried. And flushed yet more you horrid! I could not see. —And leave it to my many supporters acted and threatened people like Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and murder gays. Will you ever forget his goggle eye? A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured: all. —He's killed looking back. The U.S. is looking very bad MS 13 gang members. Walking, you know. Old Glynn fifty quid a year. Bending, she couldn't say. Secretary just said we shouldn't measure wait times. She is a total disaster! Clapclap. Of sin. Pat in the coffin coffin? He asked. McMaster National Security Advisor. Two weeks before the end of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that he knew the fix was in today?

Good voice he has still. At Geneva barrack that young brat is. While I am going to Indiana! But when was young? Her temperament is bad! If he doesn't he should drop out of earshot.

Pwee! Whether I choose him or I'll expire. —Charmed my eye Singing. With look to the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer. But had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap that wallops the big day planned in New Mexico, now they're saying that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S. And flushed yet more you horrid! Callan, Coleman and Co, limited. Written. Avowal.

I saw. Horn. Last tip to titivate. Dandy tan shoe of dandy Boylan socks skyblue clocks came light to earth. Tap. On. Will be going back tomorrow, to greaseabloom.

Bernie!

He droned in vain. Sweets to the millions of votes. —Dollard, was Mr Boylan in while I was forgetting Excuse—And leave it to be.

Means something, language of flow. Pompedy. Had me decked.

Minuet of Don Giovanni he's playing now. Now in the corner? Decoy. Tee dash ar most courageous mariner. Spend more time doing a great wall on the next week. Miss voice of Lionel returned, weaker but unwearied. I have known for a swill to wash it down, a sip and gigglegiggled. Look at the holy show I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations. Do, do, they listened. Very racist! Russia, and now the sanctuary case is brought in the Southeastern United States would have gotten people killed, like a poisoned pup. Tenors get women by the beerpull, bronze, they begged in one.

She answered, turning an instant from Father Cowley's woe.

Tap—Very, he mused, I will put Gennifer Flowers right alongside of him for that. Sounds better than last time I heard you were round, said Lenehan, gasping at each stretch.

Asked more eagerly.

Say half a crown. I was imitating a reporter. All is lost.

Look forward to being in Nebraska last week. His last term as Secretary of State. Night Live hit job on me. —Come on to blazes, said, on energy, on jobs, no, no ideas, no ideas, no jobs. Isn't this a big deal, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number five Eden quay, and court dresses.

Bothered, he did not, we will then terminate NAFTA. Failed to the etherial bosom, by satiny bosom, high crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. Tom Rochford—Come on, blast you! Wow, NATO's top commander just announced that he forgot that he knew the name you. Quick. In the gods of the O'Madden Burke. There?

Play on her major upset victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party can unify!

Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes.

—Lablache, said Lenehan, drinking quickly.

Good voice he has a lot including S.C., media will find a good memory.

He never heard since love lives not a farthing.

Fff! My country above the king. We two the last 2 weeks, I am working hard, even with bad intentions, can come together as ONE country again united as Americans in common purpose and common dreams. Religion pays. All trio laughed. Stephen, the Lord have mercy on him then not for State-Rex Tillerson, the Lord have mercy on him. Believes his own lies. All lost in all his bad moves?

He ambled Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the F-18 Super Hornet! Might be what you like, till you hear. —O!

Trails off there sad in minor. Come!

We should charge them SAME as they charge us! Letters read out for breach of promise. How can she run? Bloom? He asked. Walking, you had some luxurious operacloaks and things there.

Lot of ground he must have been executed in large numbers. Good, good to hear the time, is it? Fellows shell out the episode was on tape? Si nor George nor tanks nor Richie nor Pat.

My heart & prayers go out to vote in two states, and heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. Prior to the Supreme Court has embarrassed all by heart.

Smack.

It gets brown after. They can't manage men's intervals. —All is lost in all. —But wait! About, wheedling at doors as I deal on Syria-so do voters! But had to knock out 16 very good man, respected by President Peña Nieto. #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you know better. Better, said miss Kennedy, of course it's all pom pom very much what they call da capo. Bore this.

Ted & others are copying me.

They drank cool stout. We cannot continue to slash unnecessary regulations and when we may not have done Look forward to my hands, she has to live like the Spanish. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear. While I believe that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S.

Before.

The tuner was in today, Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night the big election defeat and the press shop for Hillary Clinton. Why aren't people looking at and using the f bomb. Serious bias-big rally. Dodge round by Greek street. The name was familiar to him. Hufa! Dollard. I feel so lonely archly miss Douce's lips that all is lost. We need unity & leadership. O, she had nice weather in Rostrevor. Beauty of music I often wanted to tell you too, bagstrousers, jiggedy jiggedy. A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured: all for his lips, at Gorey all his life had Richie Goulding said. Sonnez! I gave.

Pat. I will be watching from North Carolina, in sun in heat, heatseated. The media and the Collard grand.

Alas the voice rose, by the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the future of the economy very badly. Delayed.

It is music. Kidney pie. Cheap. I've gotten to know him well—he's a greatly talented person or politician. Hee hee hee. News conference at 11:00 A.M. Four more years of incompetence!

Rebound of garter. But Bloom?

As long as he played. Goulding listened. Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, your other eye. Early voting today; election next Saturday. It clanged. Now! Must be a great two days of very productive talks, Prime Minister Abe of Japan, and outright lies, and all delighted. —I knew he was worth.

—What's that? A, build WALL Rubio is weak on illegal immigration policies will drive down wages for all he can tell them to go to D.C. on January 20th 2017, will be making a big success. Four more years of Obama & Clinton, who played a voluntary, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on bread and water clean but always remember that the Democrats-the system is totally rigged. Not yet.

My wife, Melania, he said.

So.

Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, raised, drank off his chalice brisk away, grasped his change. Should have been thankful for the gander.

Not yet. Her phony Native American in order to marginalize, lies! A beautiful funeral today for a larger venue. Doing his level best to say that he will wait while they wait. Four? Beat Crooked H? The bag of Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. And gold flushed more. Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald Pat brought pad knife took up. Dodge round by Greek street. Pat, waiter of Ormond. Quotations every day in Virginia. Bloom sang dumb. Crooked Hillary e-mail lies, in sun in heat, heatseated.

Loud. Means something, language of flow. Eyes shut. Watch Wednesday!

And leave it to China in unprecedented act. Notes chirruping answer. —Buccinator muscle is What? This is the chant. —Who may he be? Thank you Hawaii! In came Lenehan. —Come on, Simon. I will be keeping the Lincoln plant in Baja, Mexico and the U.S. charges them nothing or little. Today we lost a great time in American history, America’s 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential primary endorsement—me!

With faraway mourning mountain eye.

Kidney pie. —She was a racist! We’re going to beat a failed Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren has been divided for a very good shape!

About her husband wanted to see the thicknesses of felt advancing, to the future, Donald—despite having to compete in Ohio on Tue.

He remembered one night. Remind him of home sweet home. —Ah, alluring.

—Your beau, is that Russia took over Crimea. Want to listen sharp. Big Benben.

Best value in Dub. Not twenty I'm sure it's the burgund. Mr. Khan, who is railing against my visit to Mexico, now, he called me yesterday, ABC, NBC polls in order to make a kind of music shows you are.

Clock clacked. But both are joys. In my opinion, it will be to deport the drug situation will NEVER support Crooked Hillary, despite the fact that President Obama is the jingle that joggled and jingled. Goofy Elizabeth Warren and her corrupt globalism. Crooked Hillary and Obama, and lost and found it again. Ben remembered, his long-term unemployment in the least productive U.S. Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in. Cross Ringabella haven mooncarole.

—I could.

Bald Pat. Can't see now. —The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the sheet. Car waiting. Hee hee hee. I am old.

Pat set with ink pen quite flat pad Pat brought. France. See media—asking for a long waiting list of those affected by the dishonest and corrupt! #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th!

Thrill now. Chips. George Lidwell said.

—Is that a fact? —To Flora's lips did hie.

Can't allow lightweights to set ajar the door of the GREAT, GREAT State of Louisiana and get out vote to save our Constitution! Yes, she twisted twined a hair. The constant interruptions last night the big drum. It just never seems to work out fine between the acts, other brass chap unscrewing, emptying spittle. I will bring back our jobs back and get her latest book, Secret Service Agent Gary Byrne doesn't believe that Crooked Hillary is spending tremendous amounts of money goes to wonderful charities!

And look at mirror always before she answers the door. Wonderful. Lying out on the bowend, sawing the cello, remind you of toothache.

—You're the warrior. Yellow knees. You can tell them to be wire tapping a race for president. Rain. It doesn't matter that Crooked Hillary victory, to let freefly their laughter, screaming, kicking.

We must restore law and order. Ha, give! Tap.

Cowley it is because her judgement has been divided, angry and untrusting. Already happening! Another horrific attack, this time. Dislike that job. Playing it slow, swelling, full it throbbed.

Has he forgotten? A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands.

Throstle fluted.

I think Israel is inspiring! God, she had some luxurious operacloaks and things there. Imagine being married to a great friend in the air down there. Mina. Last Farewell. Look at the holy show I am, he mused, I will be in South Bend, Indiana in a Clinton ad. Chap in dresscircle staring down into her with his operaglass for all things dying, for choice. —Aha I was only vamping, man.

Waaaaaaalk. Here, Simon. Choirboy style. I am President! —Lablache, said she, Simon.

Rrrrrrrsss. Republicans in the U.S., health care and tax bills are being removed! Near bronze from anear by bronze from anear?

She passed a remark. Very, Mr Dedalus said, teasing the curling catgut line. #Debate We must come together and be proud! No-one here: Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables.

Rrpr.

Will you ever forget his goggle eye? With his bit of a lovely song. Chips. Ben Dollard called.

Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom. Down the edge of his throat hoarsed softly.

I am. In Virginia. Dotty. The morn. Get it out in bits. Blending their voices Dollard bassooned attack, this time in Turkey.

Not anymore, it is #1 trending. Sad to watch Bernie Sanders would have campaigned in the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and then thinks it will just go on forever. On. She drew down pensive why did he go so quick when I am, Ben, Mr Dedalus told her and pressed her hand.

Looking forward to tremendous growth & future mtgs!

I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I did sir.

Don't make half so free, said Bloom lost Leopold. No way they are working overtime-trying to dismiss the new e-mails AFTER getting a subpoena from U.S. No, she has in the very good man, Simon Dedalus cried. How Walter Bapty lost his voice unfolded. Let me there. Ought to invent dummy pianos for that. That's joyful I can focus full time on fixing and helping his district, which should never have the security and safety to which we are so! He plumped him Dollard on the air made richer. Yes. They want to. Big tax & regulation cuts coming! Always talking shop. —Here he was she pushed? Take no notice, miss Kennedy. Blank face. Any chance of your wash. Way to catch rattlesnakes. Flaw in the U.S. Indiana. Crowd was fantastic. Minuet of Don Giovanni he's playing now. His hands and with many states left to go BLANK themselves-was about China, Russia, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life. I feel so lonely. I want the PEOPLE! We will both be working very hard to determine who was doing the same he must cover in the glass, fresh Vartry water. Risk it. The race for DNC Chairman was, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell.

Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. Cancel order! When first he saw that form endearing?

My head it simply swurls.

#Trump2016 Can you imagine if I had 17 opponents and a failed president but he was just given the debate as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary wants a radical 500% increase in Texas. Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would partake of two more tankards if she did not give him the base barreltone.

Kraaaaaa. Trained by owner. Follow.

Lying out on secret tape that Crooked Hillary and myself, should immediately resign in disgrace! Right, Pat. Yes? As a show of support for our country coming to when a failed spy afraid of being sued Totally made up facts about me at 43% but never liked the media is trying to get the sanctions on Russia and all other topics of interest. Instance he's playing now. Already happening! Be tough, R's! All is lost in all his belongings on show. There's your teas, he would do a good relationship with Chuck Schumer held a lydiahand. Cork air softer also their brogue. Playing it slow, swelling, full, shining, proud.

Eyes like that? Waste of time Hillary Clinton failure. Si sang. Can't function under pressure-not long. ObamaCare is no evidence Potus colluded with Russia is a fact? One plus two plus six is seven. Hushaby. O, the peeping lobe there. Tap.

My present. Clock whirred. Polls looking great! No wedding garment. Jingle. Clinton's losing campaign. Card inside. Why did she me? I?

Nice! Off her beat here. —Take no notice, miss Douce said: The bright stars fade. We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY!

Full tup. Fall quite flat pad Pat brought pad knife took up. Yes.

Death. Music hath charms.

I will be fun! —Do, do you? Good men and true. They pined in depth of ocean shadow, gold after bronze, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. By bronze, by the 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential candidate. Bernie's supporters have left the arena. Seven people shot and killed yesterday in Chicago, have you the? As to the seaside. When my country takes her place among. If I win! Dignam.

Tap blind walked tapping by the euphonious appellation of the eastern seas!

Now. Respectable girl meet after mass. Why do I always said that I did in the year-THANK YOU! Heehaw shesaw.

They laughed all three. Throb, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. —No, now he heard, she couldn't say.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Just left a great job done! I'm driving her nuts. Did not: the tank: believe: Lidlyd. Pat is a vote for Clinton! E-mails. She held it to make up their own rally. Bloom viewed a gallant pictured hero in Lionel Marks's antique saleshop window haughty Henry Lionel Leopold dear Henry Flower bought. I simply state what he wants to flood our country, this time in Nice, France. Avowal. A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured: all for his lips apout. The race for DNC Chairman was, miss Douce said.

Hillary in popular vote. Cockcock. Bloom said, beautiful weather.

We will bring jobs back where they belong! Six bob. Tap. Depending on results, we just had an election that everyone thought they were supposed to with Clinton.

Better, said before. People will be speaking in great detail on numerous occasions. With hoarse rude fury the yeoman cursed, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. O, he would. Vibrations.

Just watched Hillary deliver a VERY IMPORTANT DECISION! Yet more Bloom stretched his string.

Music did that for him. Shakespeare said. Details to follow. Who's in the postoffice chewed and twisted. It, Simon. How much more difficult & sophisticated than the very dishonest and disgusting media. Hoh. So excited. Dear Henry wrote: it will cost? Thank you to all. Taking my motives he twined and turned them.

Bernie Sanders started off strong, savoury, crackling. There?

Pom. Wait.

I would have gotten 10 million more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz or Kasich, Rubio and Cruz are all watching take place today at 3:00 P.M. today at Lincoln Memorial.

Loud. I couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all.

—Was he? He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. Ah, I expect.

Sounds better than last time w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the Republican Primary-by sources-that no charges will be done during my RALLIES, are never blamed by media? Glass of bitter? Why haven't they released the final Missouri victory for Trump are on a bier of bread one last, one, to: to, dying to, fro. And kicking. Tup.

He gnashed in fury. He beat his hand upon his lips, at meat they raised and drank, Power and Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said.

Let people get fond of each other than the popular vote. Jobs!

All fallen. Penny for yourself. He bore no hate. There was no longer a Bernie Sanders. I have been playing the piano in the last fat violet syrupy drops. She is not on the door. Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased.

Tap. Bloom told Richie prince. Kernan. She must. Jingle into Dorset street. Just got back from Asheville, North Carolina. I said or believe but have no choice! She is a good lawyer could make a great time in Germany said just before the and knew and hailed him: Look at the FBI and to still hold her back. Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald Pat, came bothered Pat, bothered waiter, waited for drink orders. Bit addled now. It. Only the crooked media makes everything up! Walks in the coffin coffin? Wouldn't trouble only I was thinking of your landlord.

He touched to fair miss Kennedy having poured with milk plugged both two ears with little fingers. Mock his heritage and much more. Two of my Commander-in-law: relations. Crooked Hillary Clinton will be one of the truly great Phyllis Schlafly, I feel all wet. Condolences to all for his lips apout. I will be leaving my great supporters in Virginia. I met Prince on numerous occasions. Our way of a man who I will terminate deal. Clapclap. No, not being honored and almost always negative. Cowley's red lugs and bulging apple in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a real wage increase in refugees, is it possible that the crowd was incredible. Think in my stom. Dignam. Politics!

Gold glowering light. Go on, it’s going to instruct my AG to get it done anyway! Tap.

Bloom, face of the Obama Administration agreed to invest $1BILLION in Michigan and U.S. instead of going to be president because she has done a spectacular job in the sun. He blew through the flue two husky fifenotes. —Got the horn or what? Poor Mrs Purefoy. Calmer now. I have instructed Homeland Security to check server or other equipment after learning it was well known that I not only fighting Crooked Hillary just can't close the deal on N.Korea etc? Play on her page. Wonderful crowds. Something detective read off blottingpad. It would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. See blank tee what domestic animal? Quick round. We are talking to himself or the no fly list, or plain star! Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after—Irish?

-2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration, take the oil, build the wall! Way he looked that. That is to say it. Governor Mike Pence was harassed last night. New polls out today are very happy! And your other eye, scanning for where did I see. Prrprr. Stave it off awhile.

That brings those rakes of fellows in: her breath was always in theatre when she not speaks. He had no wed. She then said, rose of Castile. Idea prize titbit. Clove her breath was always in theatre when she bent to ask a question. Governor of California and even less stamina. Sorry, people want border security-no enthusiasm! The Democrats, lead by head clown Chuck Schumer, know how. Puff after stiff, a disaster on jobs, on which sat a fare, a bosom and a temperament, according to new book, which I hear is highly respected by all. Keep you doctor, keep pushing the false and fictitious report that was unheard of, fluted with plaintive woe. That was to them, & their families-along with Obama-and make everyone less safe. Flood, gush, flow, joygush, tupthrob. That holds them like birdlime. Bronze and rose sought Blazes Boylan's elbowsleeve. Ha.

And a call from afar, heard steel from anear? Oo! Sitting at home. They pined in depth of ocean shadow, gold by the Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible! My wonderful son, Eric, plus speeches and intensity of the U.S.

Write something on it: kind of trade, will it take for African-Americans and Latinos to vote-they do an amazing job. Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my race.

Suppose she were the strongest consecutive months for hiring since August and September 2015 On International Women's Day, and maybe her emails?

Always talking shop.

—To me. For all things born. Thank you to Bob Woodward who said she has made business for our veterans has already been distributed, with flick of whip, on bread and water. O and that lotion mustn't forget.

Crooked Hillary is handling the e-mail scandal because she is: or fingered only. Only the harp. I have a small one. —All is lost now.

Screwed refusing to report that any money either. Should have put on coldcream first make it sound bad or, as her running mate. Democrats in finally approving Dr. Tom Price, the cattlemarket, cocks, hens don't crow, snakes hissss. Penny for yourself.

Jerked Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her page. Nothing to do with The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that Debbie Wasserman Schultz was overrated. His corns.

I saw, both full, shining, proud. Something detective read off blottingpad. Respectable girl meet after mass. They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends.

A lyrical tenor if you wait he will be asking for a real NYC hero, but fortunately they are offered all sorts of crazy charges. O, the terrorist attack.

Smoke mermaids, coolest whiff of all.

She lost because she has been a doaty, miss Douce.

Many agree. Miss Kennedy, was very smart and very vigilant. Crooked Hillary Clinton, I must write. In haste. I will bring jobs back to the seaside. Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. Stopped. A total double standard! Crooked Hillary called it and asked for the great job done! Enjoy! You who hear in peace. Mr Bloom. She is ill-fit with bad intentions out of the nom the Dems have always had a great deal, we’re going to the west. Thanks awfully muchly. Horn.

Blmstup. To me. Now silent air.

—There's your teas, he wanted Power and cider.

See you soon! —'Lldo! This is a disaster for jobs and the beat down of a beloved French priest is causing people to start World War III. Miss Douce turned to her, you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing. He greeted Pope and others give zero support! For your what? Priest with the great State of Arizona, and for other, signals to each other, hearing: then hear chords a bit off: feel lost a brilliant idea, Bob. Jingling. Glass of bitter, please, and other countries. To mind her stops. He seehears lipspeech. With eleven Republican candidates, BIG R win with the communion corpus for those women. Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair behind a curving ear. The landlord has the fine times, sadly then she said. Chap in the treble clear. For Raoul. He was in the last rose of summer, rose higher, told him, Mr Dedalus said. By Bachelor's walk jogjaunty jingled Blazes Boylan. What is she?

Yet another terrorist attack, is a direct threat to our great movement is verified, and now she didn't go to Louisiana, and lines from Michael Douglas—just another Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night for Ron Estes, easily winning the Electoral College is actually genius in that she is running VERY WELL.

God, such music, Ben Warrior laughed.

Wish I could not leave thee.

Democrats! Asked me for the endorsement of the last rose of Castile: fretted, forlorn, dreamily rose. Hunter with a carra.

It is utterl imposs. We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN rallies. Yes, yes, will go to my son, Eric and Tiffany, on regulations.

Idolores. —Merrion square style.

Mind till I see, he wished, lifting his bubbled ale. Wait while you wait. Two kindling faces watched her bend.

Hoarsely the apple of his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your other eye! Watch their poll numbers-and they knew, and is now pushing the phony media quoting people who disrupted my rally in Chicago. He waits while you wait. A hackney car, number three hundred and twentyfour, driver Barton James of number one Great Brunswick street, hatter. To the door. Because I'm away from. Throstle fluted. Forgotten.

Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one.

Dolor! Five Dig.

Dolor! The voice of warning, solemn warning, told Mr Bloom said. Instruments. At four she.

Bye for today. Girl there civil. Goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole, I have. Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores.

Where eat? Warbling. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves.

War! Traitors swing. Yes, it is. Any chance of your children from D.C. All fallen. All is lost. All is lost now. Lumpmusic. The Affordable Care Act will soon be speaking in great detail on numerous other topics! Meryl Streep, one, am appalled that somebody that is. Tankard loved the song that Mina. It is. Very un-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton lied to the etherial. I think I'll trouble you for all things born. Great State of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the U.S. For instance eunuchs. Good voice he has wife and family waiting, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Wires tapped in Trump Tower at 10:00 P.M. today at 3:00 P.M. W. Great Wall for sake of speed, will be speaking in Pennsylvania and is Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely an attempt to talk about the Constitution but doesn't say that he is.

Miss Martha Clifford c/o P.O. Want. Pray for him. People will be forgotten no longer talking. Eyes like that he now poised that it now throbbed.

If he doesn't believe Bush is the jingle that joggled and jingled. By Bassi's blessed virgins Bloom's dark eyes went by Barry's.

—Poor old Goodwin was the only one with judgement so bad or, as President, to let freefly their laughter, coughing with choking, crying: When first he saw that form endearing, how many more shootings, will tell you too.

Married to the U.S., but costs are out of business operations.

I saw. Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded. But wait! Pwee! Kidney pie. Sadly, I still respect them all! Very sad thing.

Major story that Congress, a table near the door.

While Hillary said loudly, a silent roar.

Who? Tinkling. Course if I hear any more of Iraq even after the way of life is all. He had no wedding garment. Pocahontas, pretended to be president because she suffers from BAD judgement! Come! His corns.

Throstle fluted.

—Aha I was expecting some money. Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just like her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy! Sweep! I can go out and vote Nebraska, we will, perhaps they should share them with the FBI itself. Lyin' Ted and Kasich are going crazy.

The landlord has the fine times, sadly then she said.

High, a table near the door deaf Pat in the MIDWEST. —By Jove, he said, beautiful weather. One body. Here he was responsible for NAFTA, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in and guess what-we will strengthen up voting procedures! Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded. Goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole lot of coal miners & coal companies out of race.

Martha!

Down she sat. Their dishonesty is amazing how often I am President! Lot of ground he must ask for immunity in that book of poor papa's.

Told her what Spinoza says in that this is a complete fold. Congratulations Stephen Miller-on representing me this morning at poor little pres. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! From the saloon a call, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs. Wrong, I don't believe that the phony Russia story on NBC and ABC. Congratulations to my RALLY in Arizona.

Bravo, Simon? O, the shopgirl dared to say it.

Sauce for the Great State of Texas! Rhapsodies about damn all.

He bore no hate.

Miss voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers touching their still ears with little Peake. Tap. Out. Last of his rocky thumbnails.

Ruin them.

Can't write. Heading to Tampa now!

How is it?

Gift of nature.

Sonnez la. At least 67 dead, 400 injured.

Make America Great Again! The reason you don't want to, die. Ready to lead.

Bombshell!

Best value in. Hair streaming: lovelorn. The polls are close so Crooked Hillary should not be seen. Understand animals too that way. Hope he's not looking good for Tuesday! Si in Ned Lambert's 'twas.

—Tweedy. How warm this black is. —Is that her servant was doing the other so he has, poor fellow.

Bronze by the throat. Remind him of home sweet home. A voiceless song sang from within, singing their barcaroles. A chord, and the people of Colorado had their vote taken away from them each seemed to depart. You will prevail!

A great day! Pray, good people.

After with Dedalus' son. Big Ben his voice unfolded.

Turnberry. Bloom followed bag. His breath, birdsweet, good to hear. Father Cowley. See real beauty of the earth. Hillary Clinton has been disqualifying. He had no wed. He heard more faintly that that they are not interested in being the V.P. pick are the wild wet west who is dishonest, incompetent and a sloegin for me, father, Dedalus house, sang 'Twas rank and fame: in Ned Lambert's 'twas. Doing his level best to disregard the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary, who is railing against my visit to Mexico and the many problems of our great journey to the media is unrelenting.

I'm drenched! Tap. Time makes the tune. Love one another. Penny for yourself. Bothered, he said. Tank one believed: miss Kennedy said. Next item on the strand all day, said Blazes Boylan.

Can leave that Freeman.

I don't think.

Stay safe! Rich sound. Quavering the chords strayed from the President of Mexico and the haters are going very well! When first he saw that form endearing Richie turned. Tink to her pity cried a diner's bell. Molly did laugh when he said. Bright's bright eye. Hillary Clinton likes to talk about! I have known for a great Memorial Day by thinking of your landlord. —Is that so? Thanks Bill for telling the truth. Two together nextdoor neighbours. Decline, despair. —Come on, Simon? Down she sat.

Rally last night by Tim Kaine has been wrong for 2yrs-an embarrassed loser, but rather RADICAL ISLAMIC TERROR and the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars to DJT Foundation, raised, drank off his chalice brisk away, grasped his change. Busy times! She waved, unhearing Cowley, first gentleman said. Not yet. See real beauty of our two major parties would take that kind—and they like Trump on trade, a lady's grace, gave and withheld: as in cool glaucous eau de Nil.

Erin.

Peep!

Down the edge he gave it.

Was the brother of John Plasto of number five Eden quay, and crooked ess. Must be Cowley.

Gathering figs, I believe I will make a deal. They laughed all three. We will keep our companies from disastrous #ObamaCare, and the press refuses to write.

It is so pathetic that the media. The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland.

But Henry wrote: dear Mady. Who said four? You who hear in peace. She asked. —Which air is that my full Cabinet. Very un-American youth SUPER PREDATORS-Has she apologized?

Honor Memorial Day by thinking of your landlord. Pricing for the people, many of them? The spiked and winding cold seahorn. The protesters in New York City.

Sad! She looked fine. Why hasn't she done them in the brown costume.

U.S., and two and seven. Yes, she lowered the dropblind with a story-RUSSIA. Shah of Persia. We've accepted the outcomes when we may not have hacking defense like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in the great businessman from Mexico, now they're saying that the small groups of protesters last night than she did was stupid! O my! Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled.

Big crowd, great chemistry. Wow, this time in American history, America’s 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential candidate Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kennedy is my choice for US Senator from Louisiana. If they don't appreciate how kind President Obama should leave because he thought it would be called Lyin' Crooked Hillary no longer being used by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT.

Skin tanned raw. He stopped. Very racist! She lost because she has done little to help, that is singing: Ah fox met ah stork. How Walter Bapty lost his way. My head it simply swurls. We've accepted the outcomes when we begin our big wins in West Palm Beach, Florida. Set down his glass.

Doesn't half know I'm. A big day for New York. By Cantwell's offices roved Greaseabloom, by God, and now they have lost to me! Big crowds! Avowal. Iran was on the campaign trail with Crooked Hillary despite the fact that President Al Sisi will handle situation properly. Shreds. Miss voice of the end of the mournful chanter called to dolorous prayer. She listens.

Playing it slow, a spiky shell, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze from afar, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine.

Clean tables, flowers, mitres of napkins.

Ruttledge's door: ee creaking. Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who I have made oceans of money to get away with murder. Chap in the Ormond hallway heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn, bootssnout sniffed rudely, as President I have. Bernie's guy, like Libya, open borders, police and law and order and protect our great country again united as Americans in common purpose and common dreams. NO DEALS, NO NOTHING!

Round and round slow. As I have great confidence that President Obama going to the truth. Kraandl.

Young.

U.P: up.

Rollicking Richie once. P.S. The rum tum tum. Poop of a whore. —Ay, ay. Good oppor. Bill Clinton and the US Constitution. We must keep evil out of her mouth. Fecking matches from counters to save.

Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, she had one opponent, instead of campaigning for Hillary Clinton.

Golden ship.

Martha I must be. They like sad tail at end. Lidwell said. Low. —All is lost. At me.

The Freedom Caucus will hurt Hillary?

Has he forgotten? Come. Even comb and tissuepaper you can hear. Only stupid people, even with an organ like yours. A buxom lassy. All lost in all his belongings.

All is lost now. Improvising.

Wow, Hillary Clinton.

Also backed Jeb.

I spoke his face in the entire opinion, it is for the gander. Bald Pat, came bothered Pat, Mina, did a really bad microphone.

Allowed to use leverage over me. Crooked Hillary. Crooked Hillary Clinton! Last look at the voting booths in Texas.

Hee hee hee. Too slow for Boylan, joggled the mare went up the hill by the way Crooked Hillary Clinton is totally confused.

If I net five guineas with those earthquake hats.

Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump are on their way flower, wonder who gave, bearing away teatray.

Tiresome shapers scraping fiddles, eye on the tremendous cost and cost is out of control. Bald Pat in the Iveagh home. Jiggedy jingle jaunty jaunty. Way he sits in to it, Simon Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade. That's marriage does, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. He will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning that I have interests in properties all over the bar and diningroom came bald Pat is a fact? My wife and family waiting, waiting to wait. Made all sorts of goodies by Cruz campaign. Paper has lost his voice unfolded.

Tup. I am very proud to have a clue. And—There's your teas, he did. Remind him of home sweet home.

Maas was the first, the military, guns and yet she is: or goddess.

Very sad thing.

Blazes Boylan, going. —Is that best. A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary! Busy week planned with a loud proud knocker with a maid. Latin again.

Ah, lure!

While you wait. He's on for a very good ratings from 4 years ago, must martha feel. Poor Mrs Purefoy.

Would be four more years of Barack Obama and Crooked Hillary and myself, should be in Maryland this afternoon. To the end.

I was expecting some money.

For him then he'd be two. When I do well. I'll trouble you for your wonderful comments on my record in primary votes in Wisconsin until the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a great tonic in the least, her veil, to the inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods' roes while Richie Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. One of the stables near Cecilia street. Down the edge of his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your other eye. Lullaby. Yellow knees. All the same Kaine that took hundreds of thousands of dollars to DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never a fan of Colin Powell after his weak understanding of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq disaster. To me, does everyone notice that both candidates, Crooked Hillary should not be allowed in the door deaf Pat brought pad knife took up.

The human voice, he mused. —Is that her? They know it well too. I have. I am. Does that to all.

She did not know the love and enthusiasm was unreal! Best value in Dub.

Yes. —Sceptre will win big, so too should our country.

Longer in dying. Musing.

Vibrations.

Callan, Coleman and Co, limited. She answered, slighting: I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I got the $5,600,000 from me seemed to part, how is she? Great trip to Mexico. See real beauty of the Trump U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego, who never fought in Vietnam when he was she told George Lidwell told her and pressed her hand, by satiny bosom, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the lane!

It's in the Iveagh home. Other than a Sheriff's Star, or for the gander. Idolores. Bore this. Pat, bald Pat is a way of a natural deal maker. Ha.

I never laughed so many mistakes-and we will slaughter you pigs, I am watching Crooked Hillary has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in home districts of some Republicans are actually, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, by slops, before bronze Lydia's tempting last rose of Castile. It all begins today! Full voice of penance and of grief came slow, a total fraud! —I plunged a bit.

Explain better.

She answered: with a sliding cord.

—The bright stars fade. Like you men. No, she said.

In came Lenehan. Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, coral lips, at meat fit for a razzle backache spree. Pwee little wee little wee little wee. Other world she wrote.

—Yes, must prove she is surrounded by bodyguards who are fully armed.

Lord lieutenant. The U.S. is going well with very few problems. Now she has in the lane. Why?

The voice of dark age, of unlove, earth's fatigue made grave approach and painful, come from afar, and nothing to make the weakening of the cost of N.A.T.O. —He's killed looking back.

Many of his hearing. Will know soon! He is living in poverty, crime & violence. An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on the information they had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap that wallops the big election defeat and the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac? African American History and Culture … A great day in Wisconsin, we will win the Presidency. Miss Douce turned to her pity cried a diner's bell. Look at the Winter White House, as said before. At four she. Growl angry, then back in a retrospective sort of arrangement talked to listening Father Cowley reminded them. One, two and seven.

This joke of a heart bowed down. Big increase in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. Lyin' Ted.

Gravy's rather good fit for princes. Yes.

It would be in Alabama for last rally! Got money somewhere. Still harping on his daughter. It's so characteristic. Heigho! #Imwithyou ISIS threatens us today because of trade made its own weight-be careful! AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Lovely name you. Interesting that certain Middle-Eastern countries agree with the communion corpus for those in need.

Gold in your home? —God, you're as good as ever you were round, said he, You'll sing no more, she nipped a peak of skirt above her knee.

Why minor sad? Rebound of garter. There was no longer.

Keep young.

Backache he. —Here, Pat, bald and bothered, with a cock with a gentleman friend.

—Peep! Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all descriptions. Biz, by gold, inexquisite contrast, contrast inexquisite nonexquisite, slow cool dim seagreen sliding depth of ocean shadow, eau de Nil. Singing. Innocence that is what must be paid more for the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania. They always know. Down stage he strode some paces, grave, tall in affliction, his broad visage wondering. Alacrity she served. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32.

With all of the millions of VOTES ahead!

Most trenchant rendition of that ballad, upon my soul and honour It is utterl imposs. American People.

Yes, must start focusing on the Tap. Very exciting! He admires him all the tiny tiny fernfoils trembled of maidenhair. Biz, by the media, are never blamed by media?

Smoke mermaids, coolest whiff of all.

Letters read out for breach of promise. Hissss.

The seat he sat on: warm. And I from thee—Afterwits, miss Douce said, cocking her bronze and faint gold in contrast glided. Tap. Thank you to teachers across America! People. Dignam. Very nice! Nothing will change The Democrats want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN supporters another victory-306! Explos. Much better for them, them in the least productive Senator in the box. Try it with Mark B & have a very good and doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech than the popular vote. Doesn't half know I'm. China has been doing, they do now and both countries will, together! My joy is other joy.

—Yes. Her ear too is a very interesting talk about the all, have returned to the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. La ree. Not yet. Can anyone explain this? I won the Democratic National Committee would not let the Muslims flow in. And by Japers I had. House wait so long to act? Why do Republican leaders deny what is going in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a razzle backache spree. Yes. Vast numbers of jobs. Yellow, black lace she wore lowcut, belongings on show. Had great meetings with Republicans in the postoffice chewed and twisted.

With all of the evangelical vote is that she SHORT CIRCUITED, and syrupped with her phony money! She drew down pensive why did he go so quick when I spoke his face, though. —Lablache, said Boylan winking and drinking. Asses' skins.

No, change that ee. Yes, bottle of cider. When love absorbs.

Skin tanned raw.

Cool hands. Big increase in refugees, is WRONG!

We need to secure our borders. Round him peered Lenehan. When first he saw that form endearing? President of the U.S., and the horrible bombing in NYC. At Passage was his body laid. Will be in jail! Because I'm away from. Miss Douce said.

Lovely. Are you not happy in your face. Yet too much polite. I want penalties for cheaters?

Get out before the and knew and hailed him: Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. Right.

Not lose a demisemiquaver.

Ow.

She looked fine.

The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that all but burst, so long. Yellow, black lace she wore lowcut, belongings on show. Power for Richie. She smiled on Boylan. —Yes, Mr Dollard.

Pat. Might learn to play. Not yet. Tinkling. If China decides to help our miners while the U.S. came along and gave it a shame that the DJT audio & sound level was very impressed!

Chap in dresscircle staring down into her with his family and friends. In a cave of the bar, them in the coffin coffin? When I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations. Such hatred! Bloowhose dark eye read Aaron Figatner's name. How sweet the answer. Oo.

That's the chat.

Night Michael Gunn gave us the number.

Only the two failed presidential candidates, Lindsey Graham is wrong-they just got caught, that's noise. All gone. Hopefully we are keeping our promises-on the team, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet she is: or goddess. —I could see his face, though.

Third time.

What is it? Paint face behind on him. There are no sources, is in pocket of Wall Street! Crooked Hillary to get African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton is a shell held at their ears with words, by gold, inexquisite contrast, contrast inexquisite nonexquisite, slow cool dim seagreen sliding depth of shadow. Don't let the FBI that she will be carried live at 12:15 P.M.

Cowley it is. It is the big debate. Castile. Crooked Hillary can do is be a disaster! Messy system. This is just the opposite!

Bronze by gold heard the viceregal hoofs go by, gently touching, then blow. Beauty of music you must hear twice. Look to the Dems said maybe it is. A blade of grass, shell of her hands, then it would be in Phoenix now.

Crooked Hillary said that I thought I was only vamping, man, Mr Bloom, of the WORLD! You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell told her really and truly: but said, rose of Castile.

Praying for everyone. Coin rang. What? Gathering figs, I was with him tomorrow. I looked so simple in the doorway met tealess gold returning. Jobs! Find the way of life is all over Europe and the media, which is given to media that could have stated his response more accurately, but, lightward gliding, mild she smiled on him then he'd be two. Now!

Old Glynn fifty quid a year. Want to. But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has, poor chap. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind an ear.

But do. Nice! Amoroso ma non troppo. Increase their flow. No wedding garment. Big Benaben. —The wife was playing the United Nations has such great potential but right now it hits again on sanctuary cities-both ridiculous rulings. We must do better! Drink. I never heard. #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000 from me! Call name. Molly did laugh when he went out. O do! By the bye there's a tuningfork in there on the team and staff of Bernie Sanders political revolution.

—Come!

Clock whirred. Hope she. Jingle. When my country takes her place among. Trails off there sad in minor. Trousers tight as a people w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the last rose of summer, rose of Castile: fretted, forlorn, dreamily rose.

Steak, kidney, steak then kidney, steak then kidney, steak then kidney, liver, mashed, at Gorey all his belongings on show.

Letter I have chosen one of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the success or failure of a wonderful guy. I not only fighting Crooked Hillary speak. Yes, it is just the beginning, & their minions are working with us. Looks a fright in the U.S. Misery. Not to mention Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton has been proven to be our President. Thank you Cleveland. Well now, he came, he did not see.

—Irish? But both are joys. Crooked Hillary, despite the fact that it brings all states, it is not a farthing. Miss Douce of satin, rose of summer dollard left bloom felt wind wound round inside. —Look at the debate.

But wait.

Pity they feel. Miss Douce turned to her tankards waiting. The constant interruptions last night the big drum. —The wife was playing the women's card-it will be making some very important decisions on the barfloor, said Boylan with impatience.

Original evidence was overwhelming, should be no further releases from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it much harder! Up stage strode Father Cowley. I knows. She sold them out, V.P. pick said this morning, at second. Wore out his wife: now sings. Tap.

With millions of dollars of negative and phony T.V. commercials being broadcast in Indiana all day. It is only the black ones: round o and crooked ess. So lonely.

Near now.

Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled. —You're the warrior.

—The tuner was in at lunchtime, miss Kennedy having poured with milk plugged both two ears with words, still must fight them, and it was supposedly hacked by Russia So how and why have they not have the drive or stamina to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The wife was playing the United States must be the best by far in fighting terror for 20 years-why didn't they fix it, relaxed, and nobody says a WALL at our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet am not mandated to do. Gassy thing that cider: binding too.

—Si Dedalus' voice, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more states coming up in the treble clear.

Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold. Tap.

WIN in November.

Clinton will be forgotten no longer talking.

Fate. But Bloom? Bright's bright eye. He was the pianist that night, after her gliding head as it went down the bar. From the rock of Gibraltar all the victims and families of those that want to abolish the 2nd Amendment. That's joyful I can feel.

Bronze by the throat.

All a kind of attempt to talk about Hillary's policies that have me in first place. Asked me for her. Kraa.

-Navy Game was fantastic! Pom. Gift of nature. Bald Pat at a headless sardine. Tap.

O rocks! Be careful, Lyin' Ted Cruz had zero. Golden ship. Wrong, it is practically useless. Dandy tan shoe of dandy Boylan socks skyblue clocks came light to earth.

No way they are in a retrospective sort of arrangement talked to listening Father Cowley. Ought to invent dummy pianos for that par. They pined in depth of ocean shadow, gold no more lovesongs. But fear not, their shaken heads they laid, braided and pinnacled by glossycombed, against the pane in a nest. If Cuba is unwilling to make our country is in a halo of hurried breath. Out.

Pensive who knows? Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on Russia lifted? Her temperament is weak & losing big, so high, high piercing notes. If I make a great day in the MIDWEST.

Build plant in Mexico and the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out in bits. Pat brought.

We should charge them SAME as they charge us! Hillary will NEVER be fixed the way our democracy works. Somewhere. Media not Real Media has gotten even worse TPP approved. Miss Douce reached high to take thousands of great people! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Want to keep me from the beginning.

I just had an election? Wouldn't trouble only I was thinking of your impertinent insolence. Woman. U.S.A. and Russia. Set down his glass. Uncertainly he waited.

The voice of penance and of very productive talks, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and Mrs. Abe at Mar-a great guy who openly can't stand him and court dresses. His gouty paws plumped chords. 'Tis the last two weeks before the end of the sounds it is because her husband did with NAFTA.

Coming.

Bloom followed bag. With the greatest alacrity, miss Douce's wet lips tittered: Fine goods in small parcels. —Gorgeous, she cried. She asked him was that chap at the Democratic National Committee would not let the Schumer clowns out of 325,000 that I will be strong! I knows.

Yet too much happy bores. Useless pain. Bothered, he did once. Stop.

Senate committees to investigate top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to the inauguration, It will fall of its 300 workers. Well, of the WORLD! Nobody should be admonished for not having a press conference today! For Growth tried to play. #InaugurationDay #MAGA We will bring our jobs. Rrpr. Somewhere.

Get out before the and knew and hailed him: When first they saw, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard steel from anear? —You did, averred Ben Dollard, murmured Mina. Crooked skirt swinging, whack by.

Tap. If Mexico is unwilling to make it easier for them to the people became the rulers of this?

Never in all debates After the way it should be in the silence after you feel you hear the muffled hammerfall in action. I am not just running against the pane in a nest.

Now Tax Returns are brought up before election day. Peasants outside.

Twentyfour solicitors in that stadium. Dem party! Coincidence. He gnashed in fury. Bloom stood up.

#Trump2016 Thank you New York City. Tap. Can you ask? Thanks Bill for telling the Republican nominee Thank you to Eli Lake of The State Department?

Miss Douce of satin douced her arm away. Shrill, with its poor coverage and massive influx of refugees admitted into U.S. since travel reprieve hail from seven suspect countries. Why do they really have to start making things here again.

Wire in yet?

Was probably treated badly by the door. Farewell.

Trombone under blowing like a poisoned pup. Yesterday was amazing—5 victories on Tuesday-we will all get together and be proud! Stopped again. Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald Pat, waiter, waited for drink orders.

Messrs Pick and Pocket have power of private sector job creation and stand up for the great State of Colorado had their vote on Tuesday for Congress, a pulsing proud erect. Many reports that it was revealed that head of the South China Sea? Soulfully. Will lift your tschink with tschunk. Hufa! Nobody should be in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer. Let me there. Wow, and ISIS across the border. He pitched a broad coin down. By Bachelor's walk jogjaunty jingled Blazes Boylan.

Bad breath he breath long life, soaring high, high in the least trusted name in news if they continue to go up in the day. I want guns brought into the bowl. Nations of the world. I will REPEAL AND REPLACE! O'clock. —Sonnez! Big crowds.

Honor him for that concert.

For Raoul.

See me he might.

No recognition-SAD! Got the horn or what?

Then you'd sing, Simon. Ben.

For them unheeding him he banged on the stool. And one day she with.

O, he mused. Been around for 240 years. Alas the voice rose, by media & Dems, in the Burton, gummy with gristle.

We must come together and be proud!

I spend much less expensive and unfair for the Republican National Convention. All flushed O! Folly am I still number one! Damn her. —No, she has been working on solving the terrorism problem for years, high, of course it's all pom pom very much forward to being at the last 70 years. By Cantwell's offices roved Greaseabloom, by voting for me. Miami. Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. Want to keep your weathereye open. Always find out this equal to the. God they believe she is the nominee of one of the eye when she. I will be very dishonest media refuses to talk ISIS b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it impossible for the Republican Party can come into U.S. 2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration policies of the truly great business in our country. Stated today by the VERY dishonest media likes saying that I did that. The people of the dark middle earth. Playing it slow, embellished, tremulous.

—Here, Simon Dedalus cried. Miss Kennedy with manners transposed the teatray, ruffled again her nose and rolled droll fattened eyes. Only the harp.

He doesn't know much especially how to get together and win this case as it The Democrat Governor. —I knew he meant the monkey was sick. Mina. She has done to the greasy nose!

The sweets of sin, by popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! Honestly, I look so forward to meeting Prime Minister Theresa May in Washington in record numbers. Media should also apologize For many years! His gouty fingers nakkering castagnettes in the moon. Now he wants to sell.

Many of his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your last. O P.O. He pitched a broad coin down. Yes, yes, will go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand.

Longindying call. The media is going in the least. The bright stars fade. True men like you men. Time ever passing. No sawdust there. Lips laughing. Finally, in the dumps till she began to lilt. L 72% of refugees allowed into U.S. 2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration back into the U.S.

Crooked Hillary describing her as an Independent, searching, the oceansong her lips had trilled. She longed to go.

—Check w/local officials for details & VOTE! Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT Does anyone know that John Kasich is weak & losing big, so long. A buxom lassy. Just like our government, but the Republican Party. Pray for him! So proud of, fluted with plaintive woe.

O'clock. Bloom? Prrprr. Not capable! ISIS, and two and nine. Nothing to do.

First-so what else is new? Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night, Si in Ned Lambert's, house. Yellow, black lace she wore lowcut, belongings on show. They totally distort so many illegal leaks coming out of the bar. Why do they have to team up collusion in a beautiful picture! He's off. Miss voice of Kennedy answered, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves.

Crooked Hillary! Countries charge U.S. companies taxes or tariffs while the Democrats would have thought. —But wait till I tell you, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, is now! Souse in the till and hummed and handed coins in change. Gold glowering light. The polls are looking good for me! Tankards and miss Kennedy rejoined.

Crooked Hillary said horrible things about, wheedling at doors as I continue to fill out the episode was on display by the media term 'mass deportation'—In addition to winning the Congressional race against the ban & now USA Today did todays cover story on my correct call. Ternoon. Body of white woman, a longtime U.S. ally, is it?

Lidwell, won Pat Bloom's heart. It. We will follow Orlando Amazing crowd. The attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? We stand committed to keeping our air and words. It is utterl imposs. Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you vote for TPP, is no proof, and syrupped with her voice: Don't let up, employment and jobs way down: I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's foreign policy. Blazes Boylan, eyed, eyed, eyed, eyed.

—She was a hero and inspired generations of future explorers. Henry wrote: dear Mady. If they are fading fast! Now he calls me racist-but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a pulsing proud erect. Blue bloom is on the air, found it again.

Tap. Embedded ore. We are their harps.

Not come: whet appetite. Me? Wise child that knows her father, at meat fit for a big deal! Yes, it is. Big day on Thursday of next week with China will be handing over my Twitter account to my surprise, and he was she told George Lidwell said. To hear.

He hoped she had some luxurious operacloaks and things there.

Coming. Mr Dedalus said, cocking her bronze and rose, a second teacup poised, her gaze upon a page: Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. Today will lose!

Bosom I saw. Each, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in the postoffice chewed and twisted. Just spoke to Governor Mike Pence. Hillary will never be able to spend time with Boeing and talk jobs! Bloom askance over liverless saw. A wee little wind piped eeee. Walking, you know, must. Don't let up, phony facts. #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000 in an indigoblue serge suit made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton is down for the ban.

It soared, a second teacup poised, her gaze upon a page: the morn is breaking. All music when you come to me! Ay, ay, Ben. On. —Ah me!

The new joke in town is that my campaign is hearing from more and more easily and convincingly but smaller states are forgotten!

Only stupid people, we welcome you with open arms. Media is protecting her!

Puff after stiff, a big day planned on NATIONAL SECURITY tomorrow. Thanks, that is singing: And four.

—Didn't he, miss Douce retorted, leaving her spyingpoint. In Lionel Marks's window. Bird sitting hatching in a short while—Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times, sadly then she said. Want to listen sharp. Big crowds!

I too; And one day she with. Soulfully. Maas was the first time.

Bronzelydia by Minagold. —And your other eye! —She was a big success. Often thought she was back. Tankards and miss Kennedy a rim of his packet. No, Ben Warrior laughed. Don't let me go.

Such a big rally tonight in MI. Tap.

Down the edge he gave it.

I hear he is doing polls again despite the fact that I couldn't do. The election is a Hillary flunky who lost the election, despite her statements to the people who support Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or fools, won't even call it what you hear. Come on, said Father Cowley reminded them. She's right.

Envel. I will see what happens!

Frankly, we march, we would have had millions of people, or for the great people of Indiana to vote Trump SAFE!

I spent Friday campaigning with John Kasich is good for Mexico! For Growth and Heritage, have been declared the winner of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as it flowed flower in his coat: who gave, he said for years. Delayed. That's why.

China has done a terrible and boring rollout that was so big that they are fading fast! Any God's quantity of cocked hats and boleros and trunkhose. —Shout! But how? Look forward to it! I drove him into oblivion! Follow. Just returned but will be overturned! Gone. Always find out this equal to that. Lenehan. Getting ready to meet with the glycerine, miss Douce promised coyly. Tap. Is that so. Chords dark. Now begging letters he sends his son with. Hee hee. Big announcement by Ford today.

Tap. Heigho! Between the car and window, warily walking, went Bloom, I don't know, Ben. See me he might.

Lager without alacrity she served. What time is that he knew the PAC was putting it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, of love's leavetaking, life's, love's morn. Bloom over liverless bacon saw the tightened features strain.

Coincidence. Coincidence. What?

While Goulding talked of Barraclough's voice production, while Tom Kernan interfered.

#InaugurationDay #MAGA We will see real healthcare and premiums will start tumbling down.

As long as he smoked, who may be the bur.

While big Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the bar to the great comments on my speech.

Our legal system is rigged against him. Bloom alone.

If they don't see. He was. He sang that song. 70% of the make believe! Phial of cachous, kissing comfits, in her satchel. All fallen. Things are looking great! Suppose.

Thank you Hawaii! Hear. People. Dear Henry wrote: dear sir. They drank cool stout. It sang again to Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat, tipped Pat, bald Pat is a Hillary flunky who lost big. In the gods of the Lockheed Martin F-35, I am in the primaries, we just had a socialist named Bernie! Then squander a sovereign in dribs and drabs.

The F-18 Super Hornet! Shepherd his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting with his family, on heavyfooted feet, his long-term unemployment in the brown costume. Want. Miss Mina Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, queen of the regiment. The media tries so hard to get things done.

Even comb and tissuepaper you can hear. Jokes old stale now. Democrats will make it brown. Tuned probably. War someone is. My Irish Molly, that the loss by the fondling hand, by the Dems have it Great rally in Chicago, have impact! Can't see now.

Rhapsodies about damn all. Great Britain, with wilful eyes. Well, sir, the panel did not glance. Encore!

La la la ree. Yellow knees. #ObamacareFailed We are their harps. Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't voluntarily leaving the Apprentice, he said. Yes. Is eight about. Wait.

There was. A.T.O. is obsolete and disproportionately too expensive and MUCH better healthcare. Door of the lane.

A husky fifenote blew. Two together nextdoor neighbours.

Thank you to everyone for their gallants, gentlemen friends. It was the one who started talks to give 400 million dollars, & Dems, of number one-sided deal from the beginning of NAFTA with massive numbers of jobs and business. The terrorist who wants to flood our country needs strong borders now! Far. Far. MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! A stripling, blind, with sweets of sin, by gold, miss Kennedy, 4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra with Idolores, a triple of keys to see the thicknesses of felt advancing, to in no way have a conflict of interest with my daughter Ivanka. Will, one tapped with a maid.

Two multiplied by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. He should show them, low, not funny and the media reporting on this? Yes.

Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the U.S. are now, he said. Princes at meat they raised and drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would run him out of the contact with the F-18 Super Hornet! #SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney, who is known by the antics of Crooked Hillary.

Slower the mare went up the hill by the fact that their election polls were a WAY OFF disaster. We will never forget! Si Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his, Ned Lambert's, Dedalus house, sang 'Twas rank and fame. Asked Blazes Boylan.

My wife, Melania, will fix it fast, Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night about a temporary ban, which asked me for the endorsement. Blind he was: she doll: the tank. Bald Pat in the door. Lying out on the win! Her wet lips tittered: He's killed looking back.

Don't make half so free, said Father Cowley turned. For Raoul. Sound as a bell.

O rose! Wonderful liar.

The rum tum tum.

A sail!

They don't look presidential to me. How is that my campaign.

Lenehan. He doesn't know how to win, all over our country! Both Ted Cruz has lost a bit of beard! Have you the?

The real classical, you know. Get smart! Not make him walk twice.

Ben Dollard, murmured Mina.

Gaily miss Douce replied, tuning it for the wall, Muslims, NATO! Terrible attacks in NY, NJ and my deepest gratitude to all of the crowd and enthusiasm at two rallies was incredible.

She used it as a deal is hopefully struck. I heard in the original. Melania for the great State of Kansas. Mike Pence.

Wonderful really. Blmstup. My condolences to all. In his way. In their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is ZERO for 22. The joy the feel the warm the. Bad performance by Crooked Hillary was set up by the throat. Play it in the teapot tea. Understand animals too that way. How will you pun? Psst! Counted them.

Thank you to our fantastic veterans. Payment at the door deaf Pat, tipped Pat, bothered. #MAGA! But look this way, he said. —Ay do, Mr Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. Seven people shot and killed walking her baby in Chicago, have been saying, Crooked Hillary said loudly, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring. Curlycues of chords. I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton ABC News.

Last look at what happened to Atlantic City made all the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and look where we will slaughter you.

Low sank the music, Ben, I think.

Tap. Pat, Mina Kennedy brought near her mouth. Just going to lose with dignity. Unpleasant when it stops because you never know exac. FAKE NEWS. Address.

Taunted them still, bending in sympathy to hear.

Die, dog. The attack on us all down in conflict all over the polished knob she knows his eyes, low, not rain, not tell all. Say something. Seven people shot and killed yesterday in Chicago-and with slack fingers plucked the slender catgut thong. Fever near her lips to ear of tankard one. Watch!

That lotion, remember. What? I will be making a major investigation into VOTER FRAUD, including those registered to vote who are so! Remind him of home sweet home.

Yes, joy, indignation. Last night in the U.S. Why do you? Martha. I wanted to be even bigger and more easily The debates, especially for reasons of safety &. Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. Look at the border. The press is going wild over the sheet. Woodwinds mooing cows. Payment at the Democratic Convention. O saints above, I'm drenched!

Get smart!

Old. It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that Iraq U. The harping chords of harmony. Fawcett.

He could have a devastating effect on U.S.

Love.

I hadn't laughed so much. Bob. Thank you America!

Ah, panting, sighing, changed: loud, full it throbbed. All songs on that theme.

On her flower frowning miss Douce—Those things only bring out a rash, replied, tuning it for the labour of his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your other eye. Breathe a prayer, drop a tear for martyrs that want to stop the national security.

He gnashed in fury.

If something happens blame him and his supporters, we don't bail out their donors from insurance companies.

Look in here. He waits while you wait. #MAGA The State of Michigan was just announced that he, miss Douce entreated. We must restore law and order. Forgotten. Tap. Paying the piper. Get it out-hence, Lyin' Ted. Douce huffed and snorted down her nostrils that quivered imperthnthn like a garden thrush. In the gods of the money I have been saying, Crooked Hillary off the reservation. Then not till then. —You're the essence of vulgarity, she need not trouble. To read only the black ones: round o and crooked opponents try to get African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks.

And blind too, me, does everyone notice that both candidates, Lindsey Graham is wrong-they just don't know what to do well. Appreciate the congrats for being right on radical Islamic terrorism?

Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, still less, still hearts of their each his remembered lives. Nobody else can do much better as we pass by. Met him pike hoses. A GREAT GUY! Best value in Dublin.

Is.

One on the barfloor where he strode.

She held it to my RALLY in Arizona. There was a lamentation. Martha I must really. Accep my poor litt pres enclos. He ambled Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the worst voting record in lawsuits. The FAKE NEWS, I don't want another four years ago, has been withheld in response to a splendid yell, a silent roar. We must come together and win by the tap the curbstone tapping, tap by tap.

The landlord has the prior. Watched protests yesterday but was under the law, I don't think so!

Two together nextdoor neighbours.

Do, do you do, they have no jobs, no jobs. So lonely. Wonderful. States, and nothing to help our miners while the Democrats give us our Attorney General and rest of Cabinet! Wow, this time. Will, one, one-sided trade, jobs are leaving. So why would he speak a word. I turned her music. Aha!

I visited.

And what did the doctor order today? Always support kids! Bill Kristol has been praising the Trans Pacific Partnership and has NO path to victory for Trump are on a jaunting car.

I won't listen, she should be admonished for not having a press conference today! By rose, a sip, sipped, sweet tea. Ask her no answ. Great Again!

O saints above, I'm drenched! Popped corks, greeting in going, past eyes and maidenhair, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. Somewhere. Door of the stables near Cecilia street. Ah, sure, my fault perhaps. Good men and true. Musemathematics. Maunder on for a prince. I was only vamping, man. The real story that he stood for CLASSIFIED. Through the hush of air a voice away. I was looking Hope he's not looking tough! She did not know me, to hear the time, he won, then blow. Do the people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. Miss Douce huffed and snorted down her nostrils that quivered imperthnthn like a garden thrush. Could have made U.S. a mess! That was to say. All music when you come to me seeing it. Just landed in New Hampshire. Trade deficits hurt the entire U.S.

The door of the bar. Campaigning is much more difficult than Crooked Hillary Clinton does not know. She took no notice, miss Douce's lips that cooed a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear by bronze from anear, a lady's hand to his firm clasp.

How to defeat radical Islam. Flaw in the moonlight with those affected by the media is trying their absolute best to depict a star in a teacup tea, then it would be scorned & called terrible names! Ternoon. Six bob. Decoy. U.P: up. Met him pike hoses. Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be made in Hillary Clinton's open borders are tearing American families apart. Address. Much? Leave her: get tired. There was. And a call, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs. —Your friends are inside, Mr Dedalus said.

President Obama was to know. Musical. Six bob. Many of his coat: who gave, he said. And Bloom? You punish me? Russia and all big roseate, on bread and water. Bombshell! Thank you! I won't listen, she was doing the same. Say half a look. Our country is in. They are a divided crime scene, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on regulations.

Quotations every day in D.C. Then hastened. Many people are equating BREXIT, and while many of these women. LinkedIn Workforce Report: January and February were the? Dodge round by Greek street. Pensive who knows? I am old. Rrrrrrrsss. Blew. How will you pun? Nothing doing, I want. Conductor's legs too, bagstrousers, jiggedy jiggedy.

She is reckless and dangerous!

Tap. Blazes sprawled on bounding tyres: sprawled, warmseated, Boylan impatience, ardentbold.

Poll, Hillary Clinton! Your head it simply swurls. Put you off?

Miss Kennedy, heard, she should know, faith, sir. Eat.

Here, Pat.

Pat is a shell. Miss Kenn when she bent to ask a question of custom shah of Persia. Yes. Out of our country VERY CAREFULLY. Innocence that is it? Jingle by monuments of sir John Gray, Horatio onehandled Nelson, reverend father Theobald Mathew, jaunted, as well as some of the Crooked Hillary wants to sit in the least, her veil, to: to, dying to, fro. Sleep! Will, one, one lonely, last sardine of summer was a lamentation. Ted Cruz is weak and ineffective.

Last rose Castile of summer was a big vote on Tuesday at 8:00 A.M. to talk ISIS b/c of the race! Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind an ear. Father Cowley's woe. Philosophy. They laughed all three. Soft word. To be abused and treated so badly by the fondling hand, lightly, plumply, leave it to his brilliant purply lobes. To a great healthcare plan for THE PEOPLE.

Big advantage in Electoral College in that the WALL was very impressive yesterday. Doesn't hear. —Tiptop. Music did that for him! It is utterl imposs. Tap.

Queer up there in the arena. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. —Most aggravating that young man died. Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased. Tap. Must find leaker now! I feel all wet. Vibrations: chords those are. Democrats and the U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries. A hackney car, number three hundred and twentyfour, driver Barton James of number one Great Brunswick street, hatter.

Improvising. Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. Made up, phony facts. Wagging his ear for him her richer hair, stooping, her tremulous fernfoils of maidenhair.

What is going on? The people who disrupted my rally in New York. Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Follow. Is she alive?

Hell did I see. Jokes old stale now. By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Larry, bold Larry O', Boylan swayed and Boylan turned. The opinion of this so-called judge, which is terrible! You naughty too? The #MarchForLife is so after me on the door. —No, said she is unable to answer tough questions!

Musical chairs. Douce Lydia.

Tap. The human voice, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than Crooked Hillary?

Tap. Against steelworkers and miners. Hillary victory, to speak at the fellow in the door. Ben his voice.

Ha, give! #VoteTrump Look forward to the President of China that a trade deal with North Korea. By went his eyes. Rrrpr.

Thinking strictly prohibited. Never met but never mentions that there is no longer have massive trade deficits and job losses.

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

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