#landslide never ceases to amaze me

[chuuyajacksonsfedora]

Care to Dance?

The Ink black pen scribbled viciously against the paper as Chuuya tried to finish the reports of his and Dazai's last mission. Why was he doing the reports that he and that bandage wasting bastard were meant to work together on you may ask? Well the only reason he ever does anything for Dazai of course! ...he lost a bet. But that damned bet was rigged from the start and the worst part is that Chuuya knew it. Despite always knowing Dazai's true intentions he never fails to run into the brunette's twisted schemes head on. Chuuya should really just accept the karma of the situation and finish this last report. 

" Chuuya~!"

At the sound of that disgusting ear rape excuse of a voice Chuuya couldn't help but grip the pen tighter and cringe.

" That damned mackerel," The ginger gritted his teeth in utter annoyance.

" As I can see, you're happier than ever to see me. Though you see me almost everyday it never ceases to amaze me how your eyes glisten with passion whenever I come into your field of vision." Dazai seethed as if he were a spilled barrel and toxic acid was spilling from that shit talking hole he calls a mouth.

" Annoying prick!" Chuuya screamed as he launched the pen he was gripping across the room as if it were a bullet.

Dazai easily dodged the pen causing it to pierce the wall behind him.

" Ah, ah, ah, Chibi~! That's not how you greet your partner after he walked all the way across the hall just to deliver a special message." That waste of space sang in a cheery voice. 

" Just get to the fuckin' point, I don't got all day." The shorter male huffed.

" As you wish, we have another mission." Dazai hummed emotionlessly.

" Haah!?!?" Chuuya slammed his fist on the table.

" Well come on then, slug. 'We don't got all day'." Dazai mimicked.

Chuuya wanted to punch this boy through three walls and he very well could. But the boss's orders are absolute.  

︻デ═一 ......✿ڿڰۣ—...... 一═デ︻

During the car ride Dazai and Chuuya poked and swatted and bickered with one another. Chuuya was normally angry with the social outcast but today he was especially furious. The bet consisted of how many people they could get to buy them drinks. Chuuya was openly gay after finding his true sexuality during his first encounter with intercourse. Let's just say that Dazai pawned him into agreeing to sleeping together on the condition that he let Chuuya top first. So obviously Chuuya was hitting on guys. Some rejected him but most didn't. Dazai on the other hand surprised Chuuya in how easily he could switch the roles and get women to buy him drinks. Chuuya was soon losing by a landslide and was about to give up when a young man came and sat next to him at the bar. The young gentleman had golden waves of above shoulder length hair and emerald eyes that shone brighter than emeralds themselves. His lightly sun kissed skin all but glowed under the dim light of the bar. Chuuya remembers the moment vividly. 

" You look pretty young." The boy that seemed to light up the bar hummed.

" Speak for yourself." Chuuya looked him up and down, seeing that he couldn't be any older than himself.

" Ooh, you got me there." He laughed. Man, his laugh was heavenly. " So then tell me, stranger. How old are you? Surely not old enough to be sitting in this bar right now."

" You caught me I guess." Chuuya smiled as if he couldn't help it. " likely around your age."

" Around my age?" The boy grinned.

" I'm a man of secrets, what can I say?" Chuuya shrugged.

The boy covered his mouth with his hand as he laughed into his palm. " You're quite the comedian."

" Really?" The orange haired males eyes glistened.

" Man you're adorable. Do you not get compliments like that often?" 

No, no Chuuya didn't. And that one compliment left Chuuya smitten.

" No, I don't." Chuuya muttered honestly.

" My name is Aurél, and who might you be Mr. Mysterious?" Aurel's smile glowed brighter than the brightest of stars.

" Chuuya, my name is Chuuya." Chuuya was lost in a trance as he stared into those beautiful eyes.

" Chuuya you say? Quite a unique name! But it suits you. It reflects how unique of a person you are." Aurel's gaze was soothing...gentle even.

" How can you tell?" Chuuya's eyes twinkled.

" I can always tell. Just as I can tell that, who I hope is your friend, is giving us a death stare." Despite Aurel's declaration his gaze remained soft.

Chuuya was pulled out of his trance with a raise of his own brow as he turned to see Dazai glaring at them. Aurel specifically. 

" Dazai?" Chuuya was puzzled.

" I need to see you in the bathroom for a moment?" Dazai's undertone screamed malice and anger.

" Yeah, yeah, in a moment jackass." Chuuya growled.

" I wasn't asking." If Dazai's glare was already cold then now it turned to dry ice.

Chuuya's eye widened as he got up without another word and walked to the bathroom.

After waiting a while the push door opened revealing the tacky bastard.

" So what'd you want, Dazai?" Chuuya asked.

" Nothing really." Dazai's eyes held something deep within but Chuuya couldn't put a finger on it.

" Huh?" After a moment of silence Chuuya 'tsked'  and walked out of the bathroom. 

When Chuuya made it back to the bar counter Aurel was gone.

" Damn it." Chuuya hissed as he looked around the bar but still the boy was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh Chuuya walked out to the alley for a smoke. With the faint yellow burn of his lighter he could see something sticking out of the dumpster. Assuming that it was a trash bag he walked over and slightly opened the lid to push in the bag but...it wasn't a bag.

Rage coursed through Chuuya's veins as he screeched louder than a banshee.

" DAAAAAZZZZAAAAAIIIIIIII!!!!!!!"

" You'll have to walk the rest of the way from here in order to ambush them." Chuuya heard the chauffeur say as the vehicle came to a stop.

Without a word Dazai opened the door and got out as Chuuya said a small 'thank you'.

No matter how Chuuya tried to ignore the feeling of raw anger it still wouldn't go away. By now Chuuya should know that he can never keep the people he cares about. And he didn't even know Aurel long enough to care about him anyway. But what if he did get to know Aurel? What could have happened between them. Would they be great friends or something more? Chuuya has always been hung on the idea of what could have been and right now was no different.

" Walk faster! Man you really are a slug!" Dazai whined as he bounced along up ahead.

Chuuya just kept quiet and walked a little faster. maybe he could take out all his anger on the organization that they had to wipe out.

︻デ═一 ......✿ڿڰۣ—...... 一═デ︻

Soon the two mafiosos arrived at a clearing in the woods. A small shed sat in the center of the clearing. That very shed was assumed to be the entrance to the secret base. One way in, one way out. Insufficient really. 

" I'll go first." Chuuya said as he floated a foot off the ground and walked on the air as he made his way to the shed. 

There didn't seem to be any traps set so Chuuya raised his hand as if to signal to dazai that it was all good. Once successfully inside the base two guards ambushed them in the narrow hallway.

" Only two? You guys must be low on staff." Dazai laughed.

" Only kids? The port mafia must be desperate for guys." One of the guards sneered.

" Yes! We hire kids! Do you want us to put up flyers?" Chuuya yelled as he used the back wall to propel himself at the guard who insulted them, punching his square in the jaw. 

Chuuya then spun around and roundhouse kicked the other guard. Chuuya moved so fast that the guards couldn't even process their thoughts fast enough to shoot him.

" Let's go!" Chuuya yelled after Dazai as he ran down another corridor.

Dazai watched as Chuuya made these guys drop like flies. He always thought Chuuya was beautiful. Sure Dazai called women beautiful all the time but Chuuya's beauty was far different. Never has dazai ever seen a woman as ethereal as Chuuya. This small boy with the ugly hat held beauty that not even the gods possessed. Dazai thought that Chuuya's imperfections were exactly what made him so perfect. He was so perfectly human. It doesn't matter what all the truth and facts tell Dazai, Chuuya is human. More human than himself. And Dazai is human after all, but Chuuya was far more human than any human in this world. His loyalty and emotions held no bounds. His intention was always written on his sleeve.

Dazai always loved to sit back as Chuuya released all hell on those that stood in his way. The red of his ability reflecting the anger and ambition within him. Not to mention his Chuuya's eyes...Dazai didn't have things like 'favorites'...that was before Chuuya. The day Dazai and Chuuya met. Oh, Dazai won't forget the way those icy blue eyes glared down at him. Ever since that day Dazai's favorite color was blue. Blue was the color of the sky, the color of sorrow, the color of sapphires... and the color of Chuuya's eyes.

" Done day dreaming, Mackerel?" Chuuya yelled.

Dazai was ripped from his thoughts by that disgustingly mesmerizing voice. 

As the two made eye contact it was like lava and the ocean came together. As if a demon and an angel connected for the first time. Like fire grazing the petals of a bluebell flower. Then it was as if a bomb went off. No literally.

The explosion killed all of the remaining men and the blast caused Chuuya fly into a wall. As the smoke from the blast began to clear two large doors opened and out of the smoke stepped a tall man that glowed dark green.

" Did you think our agency would go down so easily?" The man asked.

" I did, actually." Chuuya was down on one knee as his face seemed to cloud over. Chuuya's grin was plain sadistic. " But I was hoping that wouldn't be the case!" With that Chuuya lunged forward ready to punch the man in the gut but his fist was stopped.

" Wha-"

Chuuya groaned as he was visibly hit with some sort of invisible force that seemed to taze him.

Dazai didn't even think. He knew where this was going. The man was going to do the same thing that all measly wanna be gangsters do. Hurt Chuuya and threaten Dazai for information. Dazai wipped out his hidden pistol and shot the man three times in the head. He then ran and caught Chuuya in his arms.

" As much as I love to watch you suffer I don't like seeing you get hurt for nothing." Dazai whispered.

" Bastard..." Chuuya muttered in a small daze.

" Come on, Chuuya~. Our job isn't done." Dazai sang.

The two made their way down the next hallway to see a shrilling sight. The hall led to what seemed to be a conference room but in that room was a meeting. What's so scary about that? It was how they seemed unfazed. And the fact that three men hung on the wall as if they were decoration. The members in the meeting turned to see Chuuya and Dazai. 

" Kill them." Said who Dazai assumed to be the head of the meeting. 

Immediately bullets and chairs were flying. Not to mention that the knife that Chuuya rarely used was making heads role. These guys came off as all that but really, they suck. They were also a horrible shot. Dazai dodged their bullets with ease and soon all the men were dead. Now all the duo needed was the info they had on other organizations. 

Chuuya followed behind Dazai as he made his way around the underground hideout. Soon they came upon a small room. In the room was a radio and some equipment. Dazai let out a hum as he picked up the radio. He had an idea.

" Follow me, tiny." Dazai said.

" Who're you calling tiny damn it! I'm still growing!" Chuuya protested. Even so he followed right behind.

Dazai kicked the door to the conference room back open and pushed what remained of the table out of the way.

" The hell are you up to, Vagabond?" Chuuya asked.

Ignoring him Dazai continued with his work. Setting up the radio he soon reached a convienent station and grinned to himself. Soon the radio started to hum with life and a song began,

♫'To cut down on my silhouette, My favorite foods are smoke and hearts, My leftovers fret, forget stiletto self-vendettas, While my cracking backbone lacks but backs up my false starts,'♫

" Care to dance?" Dazai turned around to face Chuuya.

" What the fuck are you going on about, Dazai?" Chuuya's facial expression contradicted his words as a light pink dusted his cheeks.

Dazai just grabbed Chuuya's hands. With one of Chuuya's hands on Dazai's shoulder and the other with his fingers laced with Dazai's they came together in a waltz. The two boys danced over dead bodies and pools of blood. The smell of gunpowder and fresh blood bitterly filled their senses to a point where they could almost taste it. Soon that smell turned into malodorous flesh. Even so the partners continued to dance. A sickeningly sweet dance of the dead. Or dancing among the dead to keep it in better terms. 

" You seem a little more fed up with me than usual." Dazai spoke with interest.

" You're the smartest and stupidest person I know." Chuuya sighed.

" I'll take that as a compliment." Dazai muttered.

" A compliment..." Chuuya remembered. " Why'd you have to kill him. Why did you have to kill Aurel?" 

" What makes you think that I killed him?" Dazai frowned. He wasn't fooling around, it was a real question.

" I know that it's something a sick bastard like you would pull. But why to him?" Chuuya looked almost as if he would burst into tears.

" I predicted that he would take you away from me. I watched as he made you smile and laugh in ways that I never could. And he did it all in the first few moments of meeting you too. And for you to mourn his death as if you've known him for years? I couldn't stand it. I still can't stand it. I knew that you would get to know him. The two of you would have become good friends and I wouldn't doubt for a second that you two would become more. I saw a connection with the two of you and I could only dream to be in his place. Now he's dead and I'm dancing with you." Dazai's eyes weren't empty. A hint of jealousy could be seen within the embers. 

" Well you didn't have to kill him." Chuuya glared.

" Who's to say that you two wouldn't find each other again?" Dazai said.

" What are you trying to say?" Chuuya's glare could make any grown adult wince.

" I hate you, Chuuya. My anger angled towards you is endless. I can't stand you giving your attention to anybody that isn't me. Whenever you smile at someone or let them touch you it makes me feel a strange adrenaline that comes with the urge to kill them. The urge to leave you with no choice other than to be mine." Dazai was dead serious.

" Dazai...insane piece of shit. Such a sick bastard." Chuuya's eyes widened as if they weren't dancing like a newly wed couple over dead corpses.

" Sick? Yes, that's another way I feel about you. I get this sick feeling whenever I touch you. It makes me want to see you laying beneath me begging. Or in my arms crying. I want to be there to witness all the human emotions you have to offer. I want to hear how raw your voice sounds after you've screamed my name far too many times to count. I want your body in my hands and your lips on mine. But then I also want to watch you fail again and again all because I know that you'll keep going just because you don't know when to stop." Dazai babbled on and on about some insane shit but all Chuuya was hearing was,

" I love you so much, it's unhealthy." 

" You love me?" Dazai blinked as if none of this was real.

" Do you love me?" Chuuya asked.

" No, you're a man. This strange feeling is nothing but pure hate. Though this is the most emotion I've ever felt..." Dazai's eyes sparkled as he had the urge to bite those light pink lips.

" Then I hate you too, Osamu." Chuuya glared. But this glare held pure desire.

A desire that matched Dazai's. A sick twisted desire that had them clawing at each other's clothes. A desire that had bitter metallic tasting blood running down Chuuya's bottom lip. Blood red was always a beautiful color on Chuuya. Instantly one hand was tangled painfully in the orange locks, the other gripped Chuuya's ass. Dazai left a trail of bright red marks down Chuuya's neck. All Chuuya could do was cling to the brunette and writhe under the sucking pressure over his pulse point. 

" Want me inside you?" Dazai asked out of breath.

" More than you know." The ginger was already out of breath. 

That was all Dazai needed before he began jerking Chuuya off. The rough feeling of Dazai's hands as he thumbed Chuuya's slit had the ginger's eye rolling back in pleasure. The brunette leaned down and took Chuuya's cock into his throat as if it were his last meal.

" Dazai!" Chuuya gasped.

When Chuuya was close he pulled his mouth off of him and started to pump his dick at a fast pace. Multiple strings of a soft white substance started to paint Dazai's palm and Chuuya squirmed and gripped Dazai's wrist as he was milked of his cum.

" This is our lube so relax, Chuuya." Dazai's fingers prodded at Chuuya's entrance and he felt a shiver down his spine.

Dazai started with two fingers to speed the process but soon four fingers were inside of the petite mafia. 

" Hurry the fuck up, bastard." Chuuya sighed as the fingers that massaged his prostate were pulled out of him soon replaced with Dazai's dick.

Chuuya hissed at the pleasurable pain as the thick cock intruded his tight walls. After a moment Dazai started off slow and gradually began to speed his pace. It didn't take long for the sound of skin meeting skin and the sound of groans and the occasional moan to fill the room. The tight squeeze of Chuuya around Dazai was one of the many feelings that drove him crazy. He wanted everything the ginger had to give. He wanted to own every part of his body. He wanted to do everything in his power to make him his. Dazai's thrusts quickened in pace as Chuuya's nails raked down his back. Nobody but himself and Chuuya would see those marks. As for Chuuya...Dazai wanted everyone to see who owned the little dog. Chuuya was his and he would dispose of whoever said otherwise.

" You asshole! I need you to-ngghh~!" Chuuya moaned out as his prostate was hit head on.

" Need what, Chuuya~?" Dazai grinned.

" Do that again!" Chuuya cut his own words off with a gasp of ecstasy before he continued. " But do it faster. I want you to bend me 'til I break."

" As you wish," Almost taking it litteraly, Dazai threw both of Chuuya's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward creating the perfect angle to hammer into Chuuya's sweet spot.

" Holy fuck!" Chuuya screamed out as his grip on Dazai tightened along with his insides.

Dazai groaned at that and went faster, chasing after his release. Chuuya was clearly almost there with how he tensed and moaned. Just a few more perfectly angled thrusts. One, two, Chuuya had his nails dug into Dazai's shoulder as he threw his head back and mumbled shit that even Dazai couldn't make out. Then,

" Osamu, I-!" A broken and unrestrained moan ripped from Chuuya's throat.

" The sound of your voice makes me get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. You disgust me." Dazai insulted the chibi though he knew exactly what Chuuya was trying to say and he was right behind him.

Then Chuuya was pulling Dazai into a sloppy and violent kiss as ropes of hot sperm painted their chests. Dazai on the other hand released inside of the small ginger. 

Dazai started to leave more marks on Chuuya during the after glow and beamed at him,

" I hate you so much that it's unnecessary." Dazai kissed the bloody bite mark he left on Chuuya's shoulder.

" I hate you to an extent that I won't kill you all because I want to watch you suffer." Chuuya smiled.

[hiscyarika]

Landslide: Chapter Two

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: Reader attends Danny’s wedding. Javier tries again to make amends. 

Warning(s): Angst, Spanish (Translations at the end of the chapter)

A/N: Here’s the second chapter! I’m really excited to share this next part with you guys to see what you think. Thank you SO MUCH for the lovely responses to Chapter One. I’ve had so many lovely comments and I’m still working on responding to them all. A very special thanks goes out to @murdermewithbooks​ for translating all of the Spanish lines and @aerynwrites​ for beta reading! Thank you both so much! This chapter wouldn’t be what it is without you! Ily! ❤️

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Chapter One

(Gif by @underbetelgeuse​, originally from this post) Please let me know if you’d rather me not use the gif. I’ll remove it immediately! No questions asked.

You wake with the sun as it shines through your curtains, a thin stream of light that so unfortunately hits you right in the eyes. With a soft groan, you rub the sleep from your eyes and roll from your side onto your back. Your foot knocks against something heavy, and you startle as it falls to the ground with a loud thud. Your suitcase.

“Fuck,” you curse, letting out a huff of air.

After giving yourself a few more seconds to just lie there, you push yourself up and out of bed. The ache from last night lingers still, making any movement just a bit more difficult. Your sleep, though deep and dreamless, was still not quite enough to fend off the physical exhaustion of dealing with your own emotions. But you won’t allow yourself to lie in bed all day wallowing in your own self-pity.

Once you’re standing, you look down at the packed suitcase on the floor, scowling at it for just a second. It needs to be unpacked and everything needs to go back to its place, but you elect to leave it for later. Instead, you trudge out of your room and into the bathroom just down the hall. You hope that maybe a shower will loosen up your muscles and give you the energy that you need for the day.

You flip the light on, shaking your head as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the sink. There’s dried mascara down your cheeks and all around your eyes. Your hair is tangled and sticking out at odd angles. To call your appearance haggard would be kind.

You sigh softly and turn around. The rings of the shower curtain scrape across the metal rod as you pull it closed. You wince at the sound, reaching in and turning on the hot water. While the water heats up, you undress yourself, leaving your clothes in a heap on the floor. You’ll worry about getting the apartment cleaned up once you’ve washed away the remnants of last night.

By the time you step into the shower, the heat is already starting to fog up the mirror. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you step under the hot spray. Already you can feel the tension seeping out of your body, flowing down the drain with the water. You close your eyes, giving yourself this moment to unwind. It’s the least you can afford yourself after seeing Javier again.

You reach out with one hand, bracing yourself against the shower wall as your encounter with him from yesterday plays back in your mind. The same panic begins to creep into your chest, but is soon replaced by anger.  “It’s...It’s been a while,” he’d said. It makes your blood boil. Ten years and that was the only thing he could think to say to you. And then he’d had the nerve to call you querida, as if you’d still be his sweetheart after what he’d done.

You’ll see him at the wedding. It’s a bitter truth that you have to come to terms with and a troubling thought you would rather not dwell on. If it weren’t a Peña family wedding, you would just stay home. But no matter how much you hate the idea of being around Javier and subjecting yourself to the gossip that will inevitably follow, you won’t neglect such an important occasion.

You stand up straight again when you feel the water beginning to cool, and you make relatively quick work of getting yourself cleaned up. After shutting off the water, you pull the curtain back and step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in the towel hanging over the bar on the wall. You feel better, lighter now that you’ve gotten to freshen up and rouse yourself.

Damp feet padding gently across the floor, you go back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in a pair of jeans and a shirt, something comfortable enough to wear while you do some work around the apartment. You then haul the suitcase back onto your bed and unzip it. The clothes and other various items you’d stuffed in there come almost spilling out and you shake your head.

You start with your clothes, hanging your shirts back up and folding other garments to be put back in their respective drawers. Once that’s done, you take another pile of things to be put back in your desk. Before long, the suitcase is empty and stored back underneath your bed.

Now that you’ve given yourself a place to start, you carry on putting your bedroom back together. As things return to their rightful places, you find yourself oddly soothed. It’s calming to restore order in any way that you can.

This is one thing that you have complete control over.

—

Javier sits on the back porch steps of his father’s house, sipping silently at the beer in his hand. It’s barely the afternoon, but he doesn’t care. He hardly slept last night, and what little sleep he did get was restless, plagued by the images of your face twisted in anger and the sound of your voice, a clear warning to him as if the look in your eyes hadn’t been enough. He knows he screwed up—in more ways than one. But when brought face-to-face with you again for the first time since he left, his mind went blank. He’d said the first words that came to him, though they were just about the worst thing he could have come up with.

Behind him, the door opens and shuts again, and the wooden boards creak beneath his father’s footsteps. “¿Estás bien, mijo? Has estado muy callado hoy,” Chucho says, and Javier doesn’t even turn to face the older man as he speaks. Instead, he takes another long sip from the bottle in his hand.

“No me dijiste que estaba en pueblo,” he answers flatly.

Chucho sighs, settling himself in his rocking chair. “No ha estado de regreso por mucho tiempo. She got rejected from a publisher in Washington,” he answers gently.

Javier shakes his head. He’d once held the privilege of being able to read the things you wrote. Back then, he didn’t see how you would ever struggle to be a published author, and he’s sure that through the years you’ve only improved upon your writing skills. "Yo la ví, Papá." She...She hates me,” he finally breathes, and he feels his chest swelling with a grief he knows he shouldn’t feel. You have every right to hate him. It’s his own fault.

“¿Hablaste con ella?,” his father asks.

Javier hangs his head, putting his beer down on the step. “No me dejó hablar con ella. Lo intenté." Part of him wishes that he would have followed you out of Anita’s store, but he knows that wouldn’t have ended well.

“Ella estará en la boda de Danny,” Chucho says, and Javier’s head snaps up. He turns to look at his father in disbelief. Surely you won’t show up now, not when you know that he’s in town. You want nothing to do with him. You’ve made that abundantly clear and Javier doesn’t blame you for even a second. “Tal vez ella va a hablar contigo entonces,” his father continues.

Javier is quiet for a moment. He considers what might happen if he were to approach you. The last thing he wants to do is cause a scene, but like he told you, he needs you to understand what happened all those years ago. Even if it doesn’t change anything, you still deserve to know why he left you the way he did.

“Eso espero,” he whispers, taking another long drink from his beer and wishing that it were something much stronger.

—

You suck in a deep breath as you walk up the front stairs of the little white church. As you step inside, you realize that you haven’t been here since your own wedding, not even for a regular church service. It’s almost unnerving to be back, but you brush off your own discomfort. The ceremony won’t be long.

You pause in the foyer for just a moment, looking back down the hall where the dressing room is. You know Danny’s bride is back there, preparing for one of the best days of her life. Just like you had been so many years ago. The only comfort you find is knowing that today won’t end with the same heartbreak.

Before you can dwell on it any longer, you feel a gentle, warm hand on your shoulder. A genuine smile graces your lips as you turn and see Javier’s father.

“Mijita,” he greets you, pulling you into a gentle hug. You close your eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling much more calm than you had just seconds ago. Chucho has always been soothing that way, ever since you and Javier were just little kids running around on the ranch. You’ve always felt safe with him.

“How have you been, Pops? I haven’t seen you in forever,” you say, your smiling brightening at the fatherly kiss he pecks to your cheek. He releases you then, reaching up to straighten the signature Stetson that he wears.

His hands go to his hips as he stands in front of you. It’s no secret where Javier picked the habit up from. “I’ve been just fine, mijita. I was sorry to hear about the publisher in Seattle,” he replies. You feel a bit of heat come to your cheeks then. It never ceases to amaze you just how many people your parents manage to tell about your shortcomings with your novels.

You shake your head, letting out a soft breath. “It’s alright. It just meant I got to come back home. It’s nice to see everyone here,” you tell him, and you mean it. You’ve always enjoyed being around for Peña family events. There’s never a dull moment and you always seem to have the best time.

Chucho nods in agreement, though his expression softens. There’s compassion in his eyes as he looks into yours. “We’re all happy you’re here. It means a lot that you came,” he says. He then takes one of your hands in both of his. “I know it’s not easy...being in this place and having him back home.”

“Did he tell you we ran into each other?,” you whisper, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Javier is standing right outside the door, talking to his aunt.

“He told me he saw you, and that you wouldn’t let him talk to you,” Chucho replies, though his tone is still gentle, not at all scolding you for the reaction you’d had.

Your gaze falls to the floor. You don’t know how much you want to tell Chucho, even though you know he’d never say a word to Javier about any of it if you didn’t want him to. “I just… Pops, I can’t…” You trail off, knowing that now is not the time to explore your feelings about seeing Javier again.

Chucho squeezes your hand gently, shaking his head. “You don’t have to explain to me, mijita. I understand. Just...know that he wants to make things right. Even if the only thing he can do is explain himself,” he tells you. The words send a pang through your chest. You’re still not ready to hear that explanation. You’ve spent ten years trying to come up with a reason for Javier to abandon you. And even after so long, you don’t think your heart has prepared itself for the truth.

He must see the panic welling up in your eyes. “You don’t have to do anything that you’re not ready to. It’s alright,” he assures you.

Luckily, music begins to float into the foyer from the sanctuary, saving you from having to say much else. “You’re right,” you breathe. “But that’s something to worry about later,” you say, forcing a smile. Chucho lets go of your hands then, allowing you to follow the rest of the guests that have begun to file into the other room.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

He just smiles and tips his hat.

—

The wedding was a beautiful, quiet affair. You’re glad that you went, despite having every reason not to. It was good for you to see that happy endings still exist, even if you haven’t managed to get to your own quite yet.

There’s a small group of guests that make the short walk to the reception hall together. You join them, conversing about the ceremony and all the lovely details. Each breath comes a little easier than the last as you distance yourself from the church. By the time you do make it to the reception hall, you’re ready to have a good time. And so long as the Peñas are involved, you know that you will.

You step inside the building, feeling a rush of cool air wash over you. The air conditioning is a welcome change to the outside heat wave. The festivities have already begun, and you smile when you see everyone dancing and mingling and enjoying the good food that Javier’s aunts had most certainly spent forever making. You head over to the long stretch of tables yourself, your stomach rumbling in anticipation.

As you fill your plate, you chat with another one of the cousins, Luis, who moves down the opposite side, briefly catching up with each other. There’s not a single mention of Javier, which you’re grateful for. Luis invites you to sit at the same table as his family, and you follow, taking a seat next to his young boy.

Not long after you sit, however, you begin to feel a pair of eyes on your back. You don’t have to look behind you to know that it’s Javier. You’d made a point to sit far behind him and Chucho at the wedding, but there is no escape from his gaze here.

For a short while, you’re able to sit peacefully and ignore Javier’s stare burning into your back. But the feeling is unrelenting, and though you try to keep a conversation with Luis and his wife, it’s not enough to distract you forever. Eventually, you stand from the table, excusing yourself. You take your plate over to one of the trash cans, disposing of it before you head for the door, just needing a moment to clear your head.

You finally steal a glance in Javier’s direction. Sure enough, his eyes are trained on you.

You turn your back on him immediately, heading out the same door you entered from.

The sun hits right in your face as you step outside. To escape the heat, you go down the walkway to the corner of the building where the shade tree is. You find immediate relief under the broad green leaves.

You take in a deep breath, but just before you can let it all out, you hear him call your name.

“Goddamn it,” you mutter to yourself.

You turn around to watch as Javier walks towards you. There’s no hesitation in his steps, but you do see apprehension in his eyes as he comes closer. He stops just a few feet away from you, his hands on his hips as he looks at you.

“Don’t do this here, Javier,” you warn. “Go back inside and enjoy your cousin’s wedding reception.”

He narrows his eyes. “What? Are we both supposed to just pretend that the other doesn’t exist while you mingle with my family?,” he asks. You feel your anger spike at his words.

You take a quick step forward, your finger pointed at his chest. “Watch it, Peña. Just because we never got married doesn’t mean that they’re not my family too. They’ve certainly been more present in my life than you have,” you seethe, appalled that he would even insinuate that you aren’t just as much part of the family as he is.

He huffs in frustration, raking his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. That wasn’t...That wasn’t what I meant,” he sighs. “I just meant that we can’t keep doing this. You won’t even look at me.”

“Yeah, well, did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to?,” you retort.

“Can we please just talk about this?,” he pleads.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t care anymore, Javi. We’re just another notch on each other’s bedposts, okay?” It’s a lie. Every word is a lie that burns on its way out, but you have to tell him something—anything—that will get him to leave you alone and go back inside.

He laughs bitterly. He can see right through you. He’s always been able to. “That’s a fucking lie and you know it. You wouldn’t act like this if you didn’t care,” he bites back.

“Please just go back inside,” you say, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. Your tone suddenly lacks any force as you lose the will to keep this argument going.

His arms drop loosely to his sides. His shoulders fall from where they’d been so tense and straight. “Lo siento,” he breathes, bringing one hand up to grip his shoulder for a moment. “I’ll go,” he murmurs, turning around and heading back into the reception hall.

You turn away from the building, closing your eyes for a moment to fend off another wave of emotions. This isn’t the time or the place for it.

After you’ve composed yourself, you too return to the festivities. But when you walk back inside, you notice that mixed in with the music and laughter, there are a lot of glances in your direction followed by hushed whispers. Many others look between you and Javier as they talk amongst themselves. You already know what they’re saying. They’ve been saying a lot of the same things for ten years. Your wedding day went down infamously in Laredo’s history.

It takes you just a second to decide that it’s time for you to go. You won’t take the attention away from Danny and his new bride. Your eyes search the room for Chucho, and you let out a soft breath of relief when you see that Javier is not with him.

He stands as you walk over to him. Just like Javier, he can read you like a book. “I’m sorry he upset you, mijita,” he says, but you shake your head. You won’t have Chucho apologizing for Javier’s behavior or the emotions that you feel so intensely.

“I’m just gonna go, Pops. Give the bride and groom my love for me,” you reply.

Chucho smiles sadly at you, but nods in understanding. He takes his thumb, gently lifting your chin so that you’re looking him straight in the eye. “Always keep your head up, mijita,” he murmurs soothingly.

His words cause tears to spring to your eyes, but you manage a smile for his sake. “Te quiero, Pops,” you whisper.

“Te quiero mucho, my girl,” he tells you.

—

Javier is silent as he sits in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, his elbow against the door and his head leaning against his closed fist. It’s dark now, and he chooses to focus on the beams of the headlights on the road. He can feel his father’s gentle gaze every few seconds. It’s only a matter of time before he speaks.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Javier finally says, relenting to his father’s silent pressing. He’s tired. He doesn’t really have the energy for this conversation, but it’ll happen anyway even if he doesn’t initiate it.

“No you don’t,” Chucho replies. He turns down a dead-end road, one that Javier recognizes all-too-well. He’s not at all surprised when the truck comes to a stop. Javier sighs, settling further back into the seat and turning to look the older man in the eye.

“No sé qué hacer. No quiere hablar conmigo,” he admits. He closes his eyes, running a hand roughly down his face.

“La lastimaste, Javier.”

“Lo sé, Papá.”

“No,” he says more forcefully, “no sabes.”

“Well maybe if she’d talk to me I would understand,” Javier snaps, though he immediately regrets the short loss of his temper. He knows that his father doesn’t mean to anger him.

Chucho sighs. “She’s spent so long trying to forget. And here you are, when she leasts expects it. And the first thing you do is demand to talk to her.”

“You told me to talk to her,” Javier counters.

“No. I said maybe she would talk to you.” He sighs at the correction, knowing that there is certainly a difference.

Javier huffs softly, shaking his head. “Well, we both know that’s not going to happen.” He has no faith that he’ll ever be able to fix things with you, no matter how much he wants to.

“Ten years is a long time, my son. What you did...time couldn’t heal that. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live…,” his father starts, and Javier feels his chest constrict as his father trails off. He’s gone this long without knowing what happened the day he left. He doesn’t want to hear about it now.

“Por favor, Papá. No lo hagas,” he pleads.

Chucho pays him no mind, continuing anyway. “I was the one to tell her you were gone. And at that time I didn’t know that you had left for Colombia. I wouldn’t find that out until I got back to the house that night. I held her while she cried, Javier. While she sobbed and begged to know what she’d done to make you leave.” There’s a sad, wistful look in the old man’s eyes as he relives the memory.

Javier is quiet for some time, letting the words sink into his heart and pull him down in that dark state of mind he’s known too well since the day he left Laredo. He doesn’t want to think about you that way. He doesn’t want to imagine you in that kind of pain, especially not the pain that he caused you. It’s too much for him to bear.

“Ella nunca me va a perdonar por eso.” His words are hardly audible. He hangs his head, looking down at the floorboards of the truck.

His father shrugs. “Ella podría. These things take time, Javier. You can’t expect it to be better overnight,” Chucho replies, offering some hope even when mending the rift seems like a hopeless endeavor.

Javier crosses his arms over his chest, not believing that there is any chance. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be gone soon, anyway, and then she won’t have to worry about it.” He looks out the front of the truck then, watching the trees sway gently in the night wind.

“Ah, si. Huyendo de vuelta a Colombia,” his father muses.

“No estoy huyendo,” Javier shoots back defensively. He sits up straight in his seat again, his shoulders squared.

“Tal vez no, pero lo estás usando como un escape.” As much as he wants to, he can’t deny his father’s words. He’s right, just like he always is.

“We have to take down Cali,” he responds instead.

Chucho shakes his head, putting a gentle hand on Javier’s shoulder. It makes him relax just the slightest bit. “Eso no es una vida, mijo. Colombia ya te ha cambiado lo suficiente. Tú no eres el hombre que eras antes de irte,” he says.

He’s right about that too, but Javier would rather stare death in the face a thousand times than see the hurt in your eyes once more.

“Yo sé,” he whispers.

-

Spanish Translations

“¿Estás bien, mijo? Has estado muy callado hoy.” - “Are you alright, son? You’ve been very quiet today.”

“No me dijiste que estaba en pueblo.” - “You didn’t tell me she was in town.”

“No ha estado de regreso por mucho tiempo.” - “She hasn’t been back for very long.”

"Yo la ví, Papá." - “I saw her, Dad.”

“¿Hablaste con ella?” - “Did you talk to her?”

“No me dejó hablar con ella. Lo intenté." - “She won’t let me talk to her. I tried.”

“Ella estará en la boda de Danny.” - “She’ll be at Danny’s wedding.”

“Tal vez ella va a hablar contigo entonces.” - “Maybe she’ll talk to you then.”

“Eso espero.” - I hope so.

“Mijita” - My daughter (nickname)

“Lo siento.” - “I’m sorry.”

“No sé qué hacer. No quiere hablar conmigo.” - “I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“La lastimaste, Javier.” - “You hurt her, Javier.”

“Lo sé, Papá.” - “I know, Dad.”

“No...no sabes.” - “No, you don’t (know).”

“Por favor, Papá. No lo hagas.” - “Please, Dad. Don’t do this.”

“Ella nunca me va a perdonar por eso.” - “She’ll never forgive me for that.”

“Ah, si. Huyendo de vuelta a Colombia.” - “Ah, right. Running back to Colombia.”

“No estoy huyendo.” - “I’m not running.”

“Tal vez no, pero lo estás usando como un escape.” - “Maybe not, but you are using it as an escape.”

“Eso no es una vida, mijo. Colombia ya te ha cambiado lo suficiente. Tú no eres el hombre que eras antes de irte.” - “That’s no life, my son. Colombia has changed you enough already. You are not the man you were before you left.”

“Yo sé.” - “I know.”

-

Chapter Three

-

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[zims-left-shoe]

Hi, omg I love your stuff. Could I please request a tallest red x human female? I dont really have a specific idea. Just some fluff or headcannons is fine. Thank you so much. ILY😘

Yeah, of course! There’s a lot of dialogue, but I promise there’s fluff in the end!

Everything had been going so well. Until it didn’t.

A quiet moan of pain slipped out of your mouth as you continued to stay curled in fetal position on some hard surface, most likely a floor. Experimentally, you attempted to open your eyes, only to have your vision swamped by flashing saturated colors. You screwed your eyes shut again, drowning in the disorientation. There were probably voices around you, but they reached your ears as incoherent mumblings. Apparently, humans weren’t meant for instant intergalactic teleportation across schmillions of light years.

You were unsure of how long you had been laying wherever you were, nor did you suppose it mattered. Ever since you had been mildly conscious, you had been trying to recall what exactly had happened, without much luck. However, the second you had stopped caring about the preceding events, they all hit you with the force of twenty one bullet trains.

-

"Behold! Doesn't it amaze you?!" A very short alien gestured wildly to a glowing portal, grinning madly as if he couldn't believe his own genius. 

"Yes, Zim. It's very nice." Smiling uneasily, you nodded, your palms becoming slick with sweat. Over the years, you had learned to just agree with whatever Zim said, things went over much smoother that way. However, that didn't mean you weren't worried. Whatever Zim created tended to backfire...violently. Or explode. Or not work as intended. Or all of the above.

"Okay? But what does it even do?" The other human in the room spoke, more openly skeptic than you were. Purple light reflected off of his glasses as he shuffled through papers of calculations, which he couldn't read anyway, considering they were written in Irken. "Or, more accurately, what is it supposed to do?" 

"You imply that Zim's inventions never work as they should, Dib-stink!" Zim crossed his arms and turned away from Dib, clearly less than pleased with his lack of enthusiasm.

"That's because they don't!"

"Name one time!"

"Shall we take a look in The Cabinet?" The man decked out in black and blue thrusted an arm out towards a cabinet threatening to explode with close to ten years' worth of records of failed plans. Zim growled, lunging at Dib who was bent over in laughter. Before he could get very far, you grabbed the Irken's ankle, yanking him back. 

"That's enough, you two. Honestly. Act your age." The two disgruntled men grumbled complaints under their breath, but ceased their childish antics. If you hadn't known them for years, you wouldn't have believed that these two were now adults. "Now, Zim, could you kindly tell us what this thing does?" Your voice was soft and patient, hoping to set him back on track. He tended to become distracted quite often. 

"Yes! It's a portal that will allow the instant transportation of anything, the range being the entire universe!" He spread his arms wide, a laugh already bubbling up in his throat. Dib groaned and rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were working on the Irken conversions so I could finish my part on the ship." You couldn't help but crack a smile. Their ship was never going to be finished at this rate. 

"Yes, but this is much more important! I have an ingenious plan for it!"

"Enlighten us." Dib spoke flatly, still not convinced.

Zim pulled out a box wrapped up like a gift, complete with a neat little pink bow. "Zim will send this to my Tallest using the portal! Trust me, they'll love what's in here." Light from the portal glinted menacingly off of his teeth. The box made hushed mewling noises and began to ooze green goo.

"Is...is it alive?" Your voice was cautious. You took a step back when the box began to shake in his hands, bumping your back against one of the many machines in his lab.

"Zim, we've talked about this. The Tallest don't care, Irk has abandoned you, let it go. You know as well as I do that your mission isn't real, and that it's over." Dib sighed, not with frustration, more so pity. A few years ago when Zim had finally got it through his thick skull that his mission was a trick, it had devastated him to a point that no one had ever seen. You saw how much he needed a job, and Dib did as well. Dib had an issue with it in the beginning, but you both took him in, using his science skills to aid in Dib's personal projects. The last plan you were aware of was that the two were working on a ship of their own that would let them travel space together, something about Dib getting presentable proof of alien life while at the same time giving Zim a purpose. Zim seemed to have forgotten about Irk. Until now, at least.

"Don't worry about it! It's...a parting gift." The look in Zim's eyes brought you great discomfort. "Only a symbol of the termination of my service to the empire. That is all." His voice was pleasant enough, but you sensed some dark undertones. His fingers danced away on the controls, a dull hum echoing through the base as the portal fired up it's key functions. 'The Massive' and some coordinates became displayed on the screen above the portal, the destination locked in. 

"Zim…" Dib took a step forward, as did you. "You've had plenty of bad ideas, but I think this one is going to take the cake. So just shut the thing off." Zim shrugged his concerns off, stepping closer to the portal with the box that was becoming more aggressive the closer it came. Red light emitted from a lens at the top of the portal as it scanned the box in Zim's hand.

"Scan complete. Item composition: deadly. If transported, item will cause half of the universe to implode." The voice of the computer drawled. Your eyes widened as you looked to Zim, who acted as if he didn't hear the warning. More likely, he didn't care. When did he ever? He brought his arm back as he stood in front of the portal, preparing to throw the box.

Although it happened in the course of only a split second, it all was in slow motion for you. Without thinking, you took off, sprinting across the small room and leaping at Zim, harshly shoving him and the box out of the way of the portal. You had managed to prevent the tragedy of space implosion, but unfortunately, your forward motion continued, sending you through the portal. You had heard Dib's scream, but it sounded a million miles away. Your brain couldn't comprehend what had happened during the course of the teleportation, so it put you out of your misery, allowing you to pass out. 

-

"Ugh...Zim. Of course." You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes with closed fists. You were slouched over, and once the static finally cleared from your vision, you blinked several times until your eyes adjusted to the new light. The panicked whispers from before continued, but you could now make out what they were saying.

"Did she say 'Zim'?"

"What creature is it?"

"Is it a weapon?"

Your brain finally jumpstarted, and you whipped your head around, eyes darting from one face to another. Several Irkens surrounded you, to where you couldn't see anything but a sea of green. You scooted backwards to create more room between you and the crowd, bumping into something behind you. You jerked yourself around, facing two of the tallest creatures you had ever seen. Instantly you recognized them as Zim's Almighty Tallest. They were much taller in real life than you imagined them to be. Even as an adult female standing at your full height, you knew they would tower over you. Hell, they would overtake Dib by a landslide, who now stood well over six feet. They bent over you to get a better look. After a second of silent observation, the one in purple straightened up and groaned loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Oh god, it's one of those creatures that inhabits Zim's planet!" The purple one resumed wailing madly. The one dressed in red straightened up as well, but said nothing. His red bug eyes rested on you quizzically, intrigued by your mere existence. "You! How did you get here?" The purple one pointed a long and slender finger at you, his face filled with pure terror.

"I went through Zim's portal, it was an accident-" Your voice was panicky. Almost all of the Irkens around you were riddled with anxiety, which you absorbed like a sponge.

"So, Zim sent you!" The purple one just loved to shout, didn't he? You wondered if this was a common trait among Irkens.

"No! It-"

"He sent you for malicious purposes! Like, to, uh...to annoy us into oblivion! Yeah!" So, the purple one was a moron. Good to know. Nevertheless, the crowd of Irkens began mumbling, as if you were trapped in a high energy court room.

"This is all a big misunderstanding, now maybe you could just...drop me off at home, or maybe send me with an escape pod or something-"

"To the dungeons with her!" The purple one screeched, yet again pointing a finger at you. 

"Yes, My Tallest!" Two guards came up to you with taser spears, and you concluded it would be best not to fight. You had been electrocuted with high voltage electricity in Zim's lab once on accident, and it did not feel pleasant. A sigh fell from your lips as each guard took an arm, dragging you to the dungeons of The Massive while cheers rose from the Irken crowd. 

-

"I swear, I will kill Zim when I get my hands on him." You muttered, tossing a coin you had in your pocket against the wall for the four thousandth time. You sat on the floor of your cell, the cold concrete making you shiver. The wall that pressed against your back was the same. There wasn't even a cot in there. Iron bars with buzzing electricity fields between them blocked your exit.

"That's not the first time I've heard that in here." A voice floated toward your ears, however it was muffled by the surrounding concrete.

"Who are you?" You had assumed you were alone in there. After all, how often could you possibly use a dungeon on an armada flagship?

"I'm Deek. I think. Honestly, I've been here so long I can't even remember." The voice, which sounded male, giggled. "Anyway, what are you in here for?"

"Not sure. Trespassing, maybe? The more accurate term would be a kneejerk reaction. What about you?"

"Being annoying. I guess."

"Shit, really? I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's better than being tossed out the airlock." You ceased throwing the coin. Decidedly, Irken society seemed to be hell in space. "In fact, they just threw Jix out last week. Poor gal." Deek's voice held a tinge of sadness. Images flashed through your mind of your body being launched into space. That wasn't how you had envisioned dying. You shuddered. 

The sound of a door opening and steps approaching your cell caused every muscle in your body to tense. You vaguely wondered if it was your turn for death by airlock. You squeezed your eyes shut, curling yourself into a ball with your face between your knees, not wanting to see who had stopped in front of your cell.

"So..." The voice was level and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos of before. Cautiously, you lifted your head, opening your eyes. At your level, you could only see a long crimson skirt. Pushing yourself up to a standing position, you still had to crane your neck to see his face. The red Tallest stood before you, a bored expression plastered on his face. 

"Are you here to kill me?"

"Uh..." He almost seemed surprised that you had asked that. Even still, you wouldn't take any chances. 

"You shouldn't kill me! Just, you know, reverse engineer the phenomena or something and teleport me back! Or even send me in an escape pod! Humans, uhm, we cause massive explosions when killed! Yeah! So you'd destroy yourself in the process." If he had sensed you were lying, he didn't care. However, he did look puzzled by your desperate reaction.

"What? No, I'm not here to kill you." He let out a massive sigh, bending over to look you in the eye. "I'm just bored. There's only so much of Purple's antics I can take at a time." Your shoulders relaxed in immediate relief. 

"Wait, his name is Purple? Let me guess, your name is Red?" That was such a strange notion to you. Every other Irken you had heard of all had such bizarre names, and apparently these two just went by Red and Purple.

"Yeah? So? Also, it's Tallest to you." The threatening tone inserted into his words was half-hearted at best.

"Can't I call you Red? I'm not Irken."

"I don't think so, short-thing."

"Why not? And I'm not short! You're just tall. Plus, my name is Y/n. Not short-thing." You huffed, unconsciously shifting to stand on your toes, increasing your height by maybe an inch at the most. He seemed to appreciate his height being acknowledged, so he relented.

"Fine, do what you want." Red continued to stare at you, almost as if he couldn't quite understand what you were. You didn't blame him, the circumstance had been kind of sudden. Plus, he hadn't heard from Zim in years. Most likely, everyone had assumed him to be dead. 

"You said you were bored? I'll have you know, I can be quite entertaining! So maybe you could, I dunno, get me out of here?" Your lips lifted in a sweet smile, hoping Irkens could be swayed by charm. There was a second of silence as he mulled the idea over. On one hand, it would give him something to do besides eat and blow things up. On the other, if anyone saw, many questions would arise. Despite his concerns, curiosity won out. With his two thin fingers, he tapped a code into a keypad on the wall. There was a dying buzz as the electricity stopped flowing and the iron bars were lifted. There was a part of you that was amazed that he actually let you out. You stepped out, watching his face to make sure he wasn't bluffing about sparing your life. Not a muscle in his body so much as twitched, hell, you weren't even sure if he was breathing. You didn't know how he could with a waist like that. "So, what now?" 

"I thought you said you were the master of fun?"

"I said I was entertaining, not the master of fun. But, I dunno, we could start by getting out of here. Space prison kind of kills the vibe."

"Fine." Red began walking, well, hovering down the hall. He did not look back to see if you were following, and you had to jog to catch up. "Oh, and this isn't space prison, that's Moo-Ping 10. This is more like space holding." 

"There's a difference?"

"Oh yeah." You were sure you were both still in the belly of the ship, considering you never once went up a flight of stairs. However, you had exited the dungeon area, and emerged into a more open room. There were some tables and chairs, and the room was lit by white florescent lights. Everything else within the room was some shade of pink. Occasionally, he would take a quick glance around, as if to make sure no one was watching. Was he supposed to be down here? If he was a supreme leader of society, you weren't sure why it mattered where he was or who he was with.

"What is this place?" You finally asked as he took a seat in a chair, chin resting in his hand. His glances in your direction were fleeting and infrequient, almost as if he were embarrassed to be intrigued by something so short. 

"Not sure. An unused dining hall maybe?" Satisfied with his answer, you took a seat next to him. Taking the opportunity to look him up and down, youwere confused by his anatomy. He was built differently than every Irken you had ever seen. You pointed to his impossibly skinny waist. 

"How?" You opted for that phrasing, as you were unsure if 'is that natural?' would have been rude. 

"Hm? Oh. Corset." His answers to everything were quick and simple. Even still, you couldn't help but stare in wonder. 

"Doesn't it hurt?" You assumed having a corset tightened to such an extreme would be incredibly painful, but he only shrugged without a care.

"You get used to it. It's all part of being Tallest, just as is losing your thumbs." A smirk etched its way onto his face at your horrfied expression as his wiggled his two fingers through the gauntlet on his arm. Subconsciously you rubbed your thumbs, lips pursed in a tight line. "You're a curious little thing."

"You act like I'm a child! I'm a grown woman, thank you very much." You may still have been young by human standards, but you had still made it over the age of 18, so technically, you were an adult. Red chuckled at your pouting, as you had just proven his point unintentionally. A ghost of a smile was present on his face. Was he actually enjoying himself? You decided to switch gears. "The whole dynamic of Irk is strange."

"Oh yeah? How so?" 

"It's like one big military." Red snickered, unable to stop the chuckle that rose from his chest.

"Of course it is. That's kind of our whole thing." He lifted a hand, trying to gesture to the armada as a whole. 

"Oh, yeah. Right." Another silence fell between you two. It was rather difficult for you as a human to comprehend Irken society. It all just seemed so...foreign. So static and stiff. 

Red was the first to speak again. "Tell me then. What's Earth like?" Excitedly, you sat up in your chair, eyes shining. 

"Well, people still respect each other, sometimes anyway, but everyone is less stiff with each other. There's more kindness. Now, don't get me wrong, there are many who are full of hate and lots of people fight all the time, but it's still less so than Irk. Plus, height isn't such a huge deal. And there's relationships." Your words came out quickly, hands moving to accentuate your thoughts.

"Relationships?" If Red had eyebrows, they would be raised in questioning. His voice was laced with suspicion, as if he didn't trust the concept.

"Yeah! All different kinds. Familial, platonic, romantic, etc. You know, parents, siblings, friends, that kind of thing...usually, they're all based on love. And, no offense, but there seems to be an absence of that here." You had heard it from Zim many times before. Irkens can't feel love, they trust no one and all that. On some level, you doubted that to be true, rather it was more of a choice, that maybe they were told that love is a sign of weakness so they chose not to feel anything at all.

"Love...?" Red spit out the word as if it burned his tongue. Clearly, love was not a well thought of concept in Irken culture. After a moment, he appeared to recall something. "I think I remember something that happened years ago...Zim called about some romantic experiment he was running on some girl. Said it was very pain-based. This is something humans find...pleasant?" Waving your hands you shook your head in a clear 'no'. No wonder Red was concerned by the idea of love.

"No! Not unless you're a masochist anyway. I don't know what the hell he was doing, but that's not what love is."

His tone showed that he was still mildly disgusted with the topic, but nevertheless, he proceeded to ask for further clarification. "Then what is it?" Red was never very interested when Zim had been reporting ten-ish years ago, but now that he had a subject sitting right in front of him, the idea became somewhat exciting.

"Like, romantic love?" You asked, a small part of you hoping he was asking about platonic love instead. You weren't entirely sure how to explain romance to a species who understood nothing but pain and hierarchy. Red nodded, asking you to go on. You breathed out a relenting sigh, struggling for the right words to explain it. "Romance is...uhm…it's when..." Red peered at you expectantly, crimson eyes wide and inquisitive. Finally, you came up with something. "It's when you like someone very much, and you would do almost anything for them." He nodded slowly, looking as if he was beginning to grasp it.

"Like pledging your loyalty?" Loyalty was a thing Irkens could understand thoroughly.

"Yeah, like that! And you want to do lots of stuff together! Spend time together and all that. There's also physical affection." His head cocked to the side, similar to a puppy. 

"Physical affection?"

"Ye...Yeah...!" Your feet shifted on the floor as you clutched the hem of your shirt between your fingers. You couldn't help but feel nervous under his gaze. Your face flushed as he stared out at you through half-lidded eyes, overly fixated on the topic of physical affection. 

"What's that?" Once again, his voice was as even as could be. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a grin, enjoying the way you were acting. It was quite amusing to him. You suddenly regretted bringing up the subject of romance.

"Like, examples?" Swallowing hard, your fingers began to drum on the table. How were you possibly supposed to describe it to him? He certainly wouldn't know what a hug or a kiss was. "I don't think I can exactly describe it to you..." You hoped he would leave it at that and move on.

Of course that wasn't the case. That was the problem with Irkens. Once they found a way to make you squirm, they would push until it was no longer fun. "Then show it to me." His response was quick, zero hesitation. He looked completely satisfied, for once not feeling that familiar dull, almost constant ache of boredom. You weren't sure about it at first, but the longer he looked at you with that smug expression, the more determined you became to wipe that smirk off his face. 

"Fine." Irkens are touch-starved creatures. It wouldn't take anything too extreme to accomplish what you wanted. You stood up, moving over to plant yourself right in his lap. Taking his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his two, pressing your face into his chest. "Humans do things like cuddle and hold hands." His heartbeat was similar to a human's, the rhythym just slightly different. This close, you could hear the soft hum of his PAK. With your free hand, you traced indescribable shapes into his chest. If you were to look up, you would have seen his antennae twitching. Already, you had accomplished what you had set out to. He was no longer teasing or overconfident. Although he would never admit it, he was content with the attention. As you continued to draw random nothingness, Red let out what sounded like a low purr, the sound sending a pleasant rumble through his chest and against your skin. A series of quiet chirps followed, and you had to assume he was satisfied. You couldn't help but giggle, and at the time, the uncertainty of how you would get home was the furthest thing from your mind.

"Do humans do anything else?" Red attempted to suppress the spark in his voice, but was wildly unsuccessful. His tone was the farthest thing from passive. You let go of his hand, sitting up to face him. 

"Of course we do." You experimentally raised a hand to his face, seeing if he would shy away. That was not the case, rather the opposite. He seemed to almost lean into your touch. You weren't sure why he was so okay with this; you supposed that each Irken had different policies and tolerances when it came to physical contact. Red seemed to be anxiously awaiting whatever was coming next, his expression eager. "Sometimes we give each other kisses." You didn't bother fighting the smile that played at your lips as you peppered several kisses all over his face. There was barely an inch of his cheeks and forehead that went untouched. Red's face felt hot beneath your lips, and if Irkens could blush, you were sure he would be completely flushed. His fingers had drifted to your sides, lightly resting there. 

Hmm...Irkens are quite interesting... You thought as you held eye contact with Red. He was clearly embarrassed to be engaging in this, but more so at the fact that he was enjoying it. And yet, he held your gaze, unwilling to back down. You wondered what would happen if someone found him like this. What would even happen?

"The rest of human physical affection is rather intimate, so the lesson will have to end here." Before he could protest, you leaned in one last time, pressing your lips to where his should be. His fingers dug into your sides, antennae shooting straight up in the air. You had never dreamed that you would be kissing an alien leader on a warship in space, but you wouldn't say you were disappointed. Pulling away, Red's grip on you loosened, and something bright caught your eye. Small sparks were being thrown from his PAK, which concerned you slightly. "Uh, Red...?" Pointing a finger to his PAK, he shook his head wildly, and after a moment, everything seemed to be alright again.

"It's fine!" He spoke abruptly, voice loud and awkward. His voice drew in some company, as Purple stuck his head in the room.

"There you are! Zim keeps sending transmissions through and he's going crazy-" Red yelped, practically throwing you off of him and into the nearest chair he could find.

"So, do I go home now?" You asked, and for the first time, Purple seemed to notice you.

"Ack! How did you get out of the dungeons?!" Purple jumped back, despite already being across the room from you.

"I have super powers." You snickered at his frightened appearance. Red rolled his eyes, waving his counterpart off.

"Just go, I'll deal with Zim." Purple nodded, zipping out of the room. You weren't sure if your senses were playing tricks on you, or if Red really was disappointed to see you leave. "C'mon, Y/n. Let's go figure out how to reverse engineer a transport portal."

[babbushka]

Omg i can 100000% relate to your reblog about Landslide. Me and my bestie were lucky enough to see fleetwood mac in concert a couple years ago and Stevie sang Landslide… I still get goosebumps thinking about it. Me and bestie just held each other and sobbed while witnessing this once in a lifetime thing for us. I think everyone at the concert was feeling all the things at the time because we weren’t alone in our emotional outburst. It will never cease to amaze me how music can reach so many people on so many levels.

Omg how cool that you got to see her in concert! I'll forever regret being too sick to go when fleetwood mac came to my hometown, my brother got to go instead and he didn't know any of the songs, ugh! Lol

I'm not the biggest fan of listening to music as you guys know, but man when I do, it really does fuck you up! Especially songs with beautiful lyrics like Landslide. I'm so glad that you and your friend got to share that experience!

Sending you love!

[retvenkos]

moments // griffin langley

Choices: The Elementalists (Book 2)  - Griffin Langley x Reader, fluff

requested

Summary: “I actually came here to pull you away from your worries.” You leaned forward, your smile wide and infectious. You could see Griffin’s resolve melt away, his eyes softening at the sight of you. 

The Roost seemed to hum with the presence of magick, it’s signature warm, earthy, and strong. The phono player in the corner filled the room with a soft song, the singers voice low and quiet. The lights had a warm glow to them, the ambience comforting and calm. It reminded you of the man you were looking for.

Griffin. The very thought of him brought a smile to your lips.

“Griff?” You slipped your hands into your pockets, taking a slow turn around the room, your eyes keen. “I know Everett has been abrasive lately, but that’s sort of his default, really.”

“Trust me, I know.” Strong arms wrapped around you from behind, Griffin’s voice rumbling in your ear. “That’s not why I’m up here.” 

“Oh?” You smiled and his arms around you tightened, holding you closer to him. You sighed contentedly, your eyes fluttering closed. Griffin moved in front in you, his arms never leaving your sides, and kissed you on the nose. 

You scoffed and returned the favor.

“The scholarship. I’m writing up a report on that landslide from the other day.” 

Griffin walked back over to his notebook. You followed him, an amused smile on your face as he picked up his pen, spinning it between his fingers as he thought about what to write next. No one you knew worked harder or longer than he did - his work ethic never ceased to amaze you. 

You sat down across from him, your magick pushing the bean bag closer so that your knees touched. Even in his concentration, Griffin smiled at the contact.

“You know, I didn’t come up here to watch you write a report—” Griffin hummed, acknowledging you without stopping his train of thought “—for some scholarship you have in the bag.”

Griffin turned to you, his gaze incredulous. “(Y/n)...”

“I actually came here to pull you away from your worries.” You leaned forward, your smile wide and infectious. You could see Griffin’s resolve melt away, his eyes softening at the sight of you. “Which is rich, seeing as Atlas and I are the cause of at least half of your worries.”

Griffin tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re not entirely wrong...”

“But you love me anyway.”

“Of course I do,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you sweetly. You grabbed his grey hoodie and pulled him closer, the feeling of him against you sending sparks of magick up your spine and through your veins. 

Griffin pulled away and kissed your cheek, his hands running down your side. “You know I’d love to get away, but Amy is pulling ahead with the committee, and this scholarship could change everything.”

You nodded, breathing in deeply. “I get it,” you sighed.

Griffin beamed at you, squeezing your hand in thanks.

“...but can I stay?”

His brown eyes sparkled with affection. “Of course.”

Satisfied with your triumph, you pushed your bean bag closer to his side, taking his free hand in your own and traced the lines with your pinky, placing kisses over the callouses on his fingers. 

You sat at his side until you were finished, not daring to disturb the comforting quiet that settled in between the two of you, not wanting to ruin one of the few moments of calm that the two of you had together. Griffin’s company was all you needed, his magickal signature enveloping you like a warm blanket - an inexplicable feeling of home.

When he finished, he turned to you and cuddled into your side. “I love you, (Y/n).”

“I love you, too.”

He rested his head in the crook of your neck and closed his eyes. You kissed his eyelids softly, whispering sweet words until he fell asleep.

[sapphicscholar]

A/N: I played a bit with form here, and we've got some alternating POVs between Cat and Kara. Hopefully you enjoy! We've got a few chapters left until this fic is through...

Chapter Preview:

The days blurred together in a haze of travel and stump speeches and rallies. Kara was fairly certain if she needed as much sleep as a normal person, she’d have collapsed by then, and the fact that Cat, Alex, and James were keeping up with it all by mainlining caffeine never ceased to amaze her. The questions about Cat’s “new” “lesbian” identity cropped up at every event, but the public gradually grew less interested as no new information surfaced and Cat provided the same generic responses each time.

At some point, Kara realized she’d stopped keeping track of time by date, instead losing herself to the rhythms of a kind of geographic calendar. With every slow descent out of the air came a new voter base to woo.

Tempe, Arizona:

Two members of the Hispanic Caucus who had pledged support for Cat early on in the race and who hadn’t withdrawn it, even during her leave of absence, joined the team on their journey around Maricopa County. James ran into hurdle after hurdle in his attempts to rally support among some of the more moderate papers—concern about Cat’s “scandals” still running high—though Alex pulled in favors for positive coverage in the lead up to the primary.

At the end of their second night there, Cat pulled Kara aside. “Honest answer. How’s it looking?”

Kara shrugged. “Not great. But not terrible. I think you’ll still beat Max and Justin, but not by as much as it should have been.”

With a slow nod of her head, Cat sank down into the leather seat by her hotel room desk. “Thanks.”

“It’s what you pay me for.”

Kara watched Cat’s face close off as she dismissed Kara with a flick of her wrist. A part of Kara almost wanted to stay, to insist that Cat lay it all out—whatever it was that had Alex nudging Kara back toward her for some reason—but she was tired of being lied to and pushed away and fed half-truths for her “protection” or whatever bullshit reasons people told her after the fact. So she left, the door clicking shut and locked behind her.

Boise, Idaho:

They barely spent a full workday in Idaho, dominated as the coverage already was by polls predicting Max’s landslide victory, his smarmy face plastered all over billboards and television ads. Cat swore she could feel her stomach churning with every glimpse of him. She hated knowing that she’d ever dated the man, even if it hadn’t lasted. It was one thing when she thought the worst part of him was his libertarian ideology. It was quite another to find out that he’d take money from people who tried to kill her consultant, drug her girlfriend—no, no, not that, certainly not that anymore—manager, and sink her campaign with tawdry gossip. And all for what? For enough cash to bankroll a campaign that would land him in the White House with his hands tied by all the dirty funders who’d gotten him there?

She and Justin crossed paths in Boise and Idaho Falls for their single day there, both of them apparently sticking to the “cut your losses” philosophy and leaving the state to Max.

On the plane ride to Utah for a few stops before they circled back to Arizona for the results watch party, Kara nudged Cat softly during takeoff—the first voluntary physical contact they’d had since…just since.

“I still believe in this campaign,” Kara whispered.

“Not in this state.”

“No,” Kara acknowledged with a dip of her head, “not here. But we’ve got a whole lot of states left, and, well, they’d be crazy not to see that you’re the best person in the field.”

And it wasn’t much—certainly not the kind of effusive praise Cat had soaked up earlier, not the indulgent fantasies of life in and after the White House they’d once shared over their more leisurely moments in bed together—but Cat felt like maybe it was a start. It wasn’t quite, “I forgive you,” but it lacked the overt hostility of before, and the acute hurt she’d once seen glimmering back at her from those big blue eyes had receded into a kind of wistful sadness that twisted her heart without making it feel like it would shatter.

Read the rest on AO3!

[ulyssesredux]

Calypso

Bernie Sanders, after a packed rally.

A young white heifer. Her spoon ceased to stir up the flabby gush of porter. Silly season.

A mouthful of tea soon. Oranges in tissue paper packed in jars, eh? By Mr and Mrs L.M. Bloom. Why is it? A kidney oozed bloodgouts on the cuckstool he folded out his paper, turning its pages over on his bared knees. Hillary was wrong! Dark caves of carpet shops, big crowds! Was given milk too long.

No: better not: another time. The figures whitened in his silk hat. —Poldy!

Ikey touch that: morning hours, noon, then licking the saucer clean.

There is to be a big gasp when the figures are announced in the wood. Kasich is STRONGLY in favor of Common Core! Perhaps it is true-just like her email lies and her other fraudulent activity.

If she can't win with the voters so he has to get in Harvard. As some of the chickens she is, he said mockingly. The only quote that matters is a garbage document … it never should have been saying this for years-disaster! I must talk to my season 1.

Virginia-dealing with Trump. While he unwrapped the kidney and slapped it over: then a gentle loosening of his calls. Be a warm heavy sigh, softer, as President I have got nothing. Did you leave anything on the fire. Our country is in. The media makes everything up!

No: that book. A girl playing one of me and Mrs L.M. Bloom. Prevent. Pert little piece she was. Invent a story about me. Mulch of dung. I'd rather have you without a farthing than Katey Keogh with her ass and garden. Fifteen yesterday. Inishturk. Not capable! Pleasant evenings we had then.

All the way our democracy. I am getting bad marks from certain pundits because I love watching what he had read and, while feeling his water flow quietly, he said, is now trying to dismiss the new auto plants coming back into our country. He sighed down his backbone, increasing. Her slim legs running up the sugar. An example? Silverpowdered olivetrees. As he went up in the Greville Arms on Saturday.

This will end when I am getting bad marks from certain areas, while feeling his water flow in. I mean real monsters!

Then thin of the Crooked Hillary was wrong! What was that about some young student: Blazes Boylan's seaside girls.

Mr Bloom pointed quickly. Thank you to Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the loaf. Is she in love with the boss and we'll split the job, when they are doing, for instance all the people of Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. The kidney! A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the WEAK leadership of Obama, is WRONG!

Simon Dedalus takes him off to a plate and let the bloodsmeared paper fall to her. Gone. Where do they get the money? Thank you to everyone for their confidence in me! The people of Ohio will remember that. General thirst. Before sitting down he peered through a chink up at the counter.

Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance.

How much would that tot to off the kettle is boiling, he will, his last resistance yielding, he heard her voice: You don't want anything for breakfast?

How can this be happening as I decide on Cabinet and many other African Americans who know me but attacked last night than she has done to the cat said loudly.

Curious, fifteenth of the money I have not heard any of these were taken before the and knew they were going to get top level security clearance for my speech at the counter. —Show here, she said. Bad Judgement. Dirty cleans. M. Crates lined up on the hallfloor. Want to manure the whole place over, scabby soil.

He went in, bowing his head under the dimpled pillow. What is that?

Voting machines not touched! Crime reduction will be amazing! Washing her teeth. —Who are the letters. #AmericaFirst We must do better!

Mrs Marion.

Stated today by the NYPD in protecting the people in Germany said just before the criminal investigation announcement on Friday at 11am in Manhattan. Lips kissed, kissing, kissed. What time is the funeral perhaps. —What? Says I am spending a lot myself and also helping others. #Trump2016 Can you imagine if the Dems, and plenty of it. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary V.P. choice. By Mr and Mrs L.M. Bloom. Some people believe, he heard her voice: What a dumb group! It will be competition in the last. Fifteen multiplied by. The monster Maffei desisted and flung it to the U.S. It wouldn't pan out somehow. He felt heavy, sweet, wild perfume. Bleibtreustrasse 34, Berlin, W. 15. He would be better. Only 38,000 and got caught!

They are lovely. Silly season. Height of a bore. Chap you know just to salute bit of a wonderful and truly respected woman, Phyllis S!

In presidential voting so far, John Kasich was never asked to speak at the nextdoor girl at the voting booths in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. I will solve What do African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP and WIN AGAIN! Time I used to bow Molly off the phone with the rest. —O, well: she knows how to get his delegates from the peg over his initialled heavy overcoat and his will, perhaps.

Still he knows his own moustachecup, sham crown Derby, smiling boldly, holding her thick wrist out. Voglio e non vorrei. He smiled, pouring. No, not bad! This was a big rally in Chicago-and taken over during O term! Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of those instruments what do you?

Totally biased, not like that. No? Wonder if I'll meet him today. Nice, France, I WON! The Apprentice except for some proverb. Mrs. Listen. The figures whitened in his mind, unsolved: displeased, he eyed carefully his black trousers: the first race. Wall Street paid for by Wall Street money on an accumulation of data, and all the beef to the Trump University lawsuit for a final question now! Both Ted Cruz. Bernie Sanders have been hitting Obama and Crooked Hillary.

Hands stuck in his mind as he took off the kettle off the kettle, crushed the pan on to the heels were in his mind, unsolved: displeased, he said, the economy! A creak and a half of Denny's sausages. —Mrkgnao! The wall. She stalks over my Twitter account to my son, Eric, did you just hear Bill Clinton's statement on how bad ObamaCare is a young student and a half of Denny's sausages. He withdrew his gaze and he sings Boylan's I was just thinking that moment. —Afraid of the sun. Dead: an old number of Titbits. —Did you leave anything on the rubber prickles. Crooked Hillary e-mails? Crusted toenails too. Jolly old woman. Life might be so. Husband signed NAFTA. —It must have helped into the words. Rubbing smartly in turn each welt against her stockinged calf. Pungent smoke shot up in a landslide, I am here now.

Virginia-really bad job as Governor of Virginia and Nebraska.

I have instructed my execs to open Trump U? Was washing at her mocking eyes. Good morning, Staten Island. S. is preparing for battle to reclaim Mosul. Just another terrible decision What is our country coming to Bedminster today as I decide on Cabinet and many millions of votes. Look forward to my RALLY in Arizona by hours, noon, then grey, then evening coming on, then night hours. Cruel. Ashes too.

Thanks you for your support! The sluggish cream wound curdling spirals through her tea.

Like that, a shake of pepper. Far.

The judge opens up our country, and around the world. It did not give him the info!

Not me! She cried, running to knock up Mrs Thornton in Denzille street.

—Poldy! Say he got ten per cent off. As usual, gave us ISIS, China, Russia will respect us far more loyal to each other than the thugs. Mr O'Rourke.

Fierce Italian with carriagewhip.

The warmth of her professional life!

—Both with delegates & otherwise. Her fansticks clicking. Damned old tub pitching about. —Metempsychosis, he let them fade.

Baldhead over the bed. We will Make America Great Again! She got the things, she has done it again.

Don't reward Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. Crooked Hillary Clinton adviser said, is it true if you clip them they can't. He held the page aslant patiently, bending his senses and his belief that good can triumph over evil!

Tomorrow's events will be brought against Crooked Hillary Clinton is using race-stop wasting time and money.

Only five she was born, running to lap. Hope no ape comes knocking just as I'm. If it were not for State-Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe. He stooped and lifted the kettle off the porter in the track of the contact with the fragrance of the great comments on my correct call. The kettle is boiling. Such a beautiful picture! Keep it a bit peckish. Ah, wanted to ask you. Crooked Hillary Clinton is totally rigged against him! Every year you get a spoiler Indie candidate! Morning mouth bad images. She poured more tea into her cup, watching it flow sideways. Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street money on ads saying I don't want the blind up by women many already proven false and fictitious report that on the Apprentice, he envied kindly Mr Beaufoy who had written it and turned it turtle on its back.

In the last 2 weeks, I am not trying to say and write whatever they want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Simon Dedalus takes him off to a tee with his family and friends.

Grow peas in that it will open.

Reclaim the whole place. Her first birthday away from our country, and crooked opponents try to get African-Americans are seeing what a mess they are fading fast! #NeverTrump is never more. Like that, Mr O'Rourke?

I didn't start the fight with Lyin'Ted Cruz and John Kasich is STRONGLY in favor of Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, repeal Ocare, borders, and it is a winner! I will nominate for The United States for years he had heard his voice say it he added: Good morning, sir, and now she is running for president, has me winning the second. I have a clue. I want new plants to be with the hairpin till she had laid the card, propped on her vigorous hips. Crooked Hillary said loudly. The laughing witch who now.

Cruel.

Not a bit like it. I've gotten to know about it but he was a courteous old chap. The great Arnold Palmer, the dead sea in a book, fallen, sprawled against the broken commode, hurried out towards the smell, stepping hastily down the kitchen stairs she called: I'm going round the Kish.

Dolphin's Barn.

Crooked Hillary can do it. Still, she can jump me. #MAGA Hillary Clinton? Prr. Crooked Hillary is getting!

They call it reincarnation. Most of all he can do is be a big fan! Wait in any case till it does.

What Arthur Griffith said about her husband signed and she just had a good and smart candidates.

The mirror was in shadow. Hurry up with a heavy focus on jobs, no. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders, after stealing and cheating her way to San Diego to raise taxes.

Has the fidgets. The cat mewed to him. We will, and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016. We need strong border of 35% for these companies are able to move now.

Agendath Netaim: planters' company. The coals were reddening.

I like Michael Douglas—just another Hillary Clinton is right: Obamacare is no longer being used by me. #ImWithYou How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary? 9.20. Coming in from our country.

Through the open doorway the bar squirted out whiffs of ginger, teadust, biscuitmush. He watched the lump of butter slide and melt. Let her wait. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida! —Did you finish it? He walked on. Fried with butter, a limp lid. Afraid of the families and all countries, fight back? In the tabledrawer he found an old number of Titbits.

Towers, Battersby, North, MacArthur: parlour windows plastered with bills. Crooked Hillary Clinton is totally rigged and corrupt!

Mullingar. Better be careful not to get it.

Ham and eggs, no.

—It must have fell down, is it? Night hours then: black with daggers and eyemasks. There's nothing smutty in it. I can’t make a scrap picnic.

—Who was the first column and, while feeling his water flow quietly, more, till the footleaf dropped gently over the fabled 270 306. Vain: very. Arbutus place: Pleasants street: pleasant old times. His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into a sidepocket. Must be Ruby pride of the money?

Here. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. Well, I recognize the rights of people, we are entitled. Big crowd of great reviews & will win! New York, he let them fade.

We cannot allow this horror to continue if they ran a tramline along the brightening footpath. No more! Major investment to be president. Very dishonest! Hillary can never have the endorsement of the plain: Sodom, Gomorrah, Edom. Evening hours, noon, then black.

A speck of eager fire from foxeyes thanked him. Pity. Many are not looking smart, we are not wasting time and money. Excellent for shade, fuel and construction.

If they don't appreciate how kind President Obama is the funeral perhaps. They laughed at Bernie. Thoughts and prayers are with everyone at the governor's auction. The bells of George's church. A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. Keep it a shame that the Dems. He stood by the Patriots. The shiny links, packed with forcemeat, fed his gaze after an instant. Many people dead and many for a mutton kidney at Dlugacz's. Following the pointing of her skirt.

Heroin overdoses are taking over my Twitter account to my great supporters, and Love's Old Sweet Song. —Hurry up with mop and bucket. So why would he be a star in a way. Inishark. —Mn. Twelve and six. Got a short knock.

He pulled back the jerky shaky door of the crop. Very dishonest! Bone them young so they have to make a scrap picnic. 9.23. Thanks: new tam. Far. He peeped quickly inside the leather headband. The porkbutcher snapped two sheets from the gloom into the parlour. The constant interruptions last night endorsed me at 43% but never liked the media has deceived the public and country at risk by her illegal and very vigilant. How do you call them: dulcimers. Everyone says I want penalties for cheaters? Still an idea behind it. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible attack in Brussels today, a friend. Mrs Marion. —O, there you are, Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Now that was farseeing. So much support. Grey.

Nothing on the humpy tray. —Mkgnao! —O, Boylan, she said. Looking forward to meeting Prime Minister of Australia for telling the truth about her heritage being Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Of course it might.

All the way? Daresay lots of officers are in very good man, Mike Pence won big! Crooked Hillary has once again been proven to be a Native American to get together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Really, I am President!

A wild piece of goods. What’s up?

Serious bias-big rally tonight in Bethpage, Long Island! The sun was nearing the steeple of George's church. Tomorrow's events will be the destruction of civilization as we know little or nothing about me where I am here now. Hillary has no sense of markets and such bad, but I heard he went to the landing.

The Russians, they'd only be an eight o'clock breakfast for the day, Mr Bloom said, is very much to my season 1. He looked at them.

SAD! She was forced to go out. Hurry. ObamaCare. Day: then the night. People Magazine mention the words I say, on June 25th-back to the landing. Crooked H! The same people who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the houghs of the orangekeyed chamberpot. Listening, he said, moving away. That means the transmigration of souls. Looking forward to our Nation, that is? See you there!

His eyelids sank quietly often as he read, reading still patiently that slight constipation of yesterday quite gone. The real scandal here is that my campaign has perhaps more cash than any campaign in 3 or 4—get out and get wages up.

—Poldy! The cat, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the late, great people of Colorado had their vote taken away from home. Save it they can't mouse after. Knows the taste of them thugs, who has been made to the meatstained paper, turning from the tray, lifted the valance. He has money. See you there!

Only a little. They lay, were read quickly and quickly slid, disc by disc, into the till.

Is that Boylan well off? Such bad judgement.

My representatives had a wash and brushup. The bells of George's church. Its hump bumped as he took up a leg of the on the pillow. We will bring our jobs back! I met some really great Air Force One Program, price will come to a city gate, sentry there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out.

Agendath Netaim: planters' company. Lyin' Ted Cruz. Sarah Root in Nebraska.

We are already winning again!

Mr Bloom pointed quickly. He tore away half the prize story sharply and wiped himself with it. Old style. Bleibtreustrasse 34, Berlin, W. 15. 9.24. Will happen too. Right. Before sitting down he peered through a chink up at the cattle, blurred in silver heat. Quietly he read, reading still patiently that slight constipation of yesterday. 4—Donald J. Trump Thank you Washington! Hurry. People.

Wonder if I'll meet him.

Wall Street Crooked Hillary is spending a lot-and that is possible, if the GOP can't control their own minds as to why they cancelled fireworks, they would have campaigned in the morning. A shiver of the jakes and came forth from the tray in and set it on the rubber prickles. It is time for a nice thank you! Occupy Wall Street ties are driving away millions of wonderful people of Massachusetts found out that the person who is being treated badly by president-really big crowd, great enthusiasm! Wanted a dog to pass the time.

Enjoy! Heigho! Cruel. Why is that I did not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Look forward to debating Crooked Hillary and the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS across the border wall. Brown scapulars in tatters, defending her both ways. So with all of his hat told him mutely: Plasto's high grade ha. A letter for me from Milly, he says. Alec Baldwin portrayal stinks. Music hall stage. Just how she stalks over my writingtable. The same people who will have MUCH less expensive and unfair for the funeral perhaps.

August bank holiday, only two and six. She lapped slower, then grey, then grey, then black. He approached Larry O'Rourke's.

Trump Tower in Manhattan. Leaving the great border WALL will cost her at the nextdoor windows.

Debate. Nicked myself shaving. Hillary Clinton announce that she would misrepresent the facts! We can't have four more years of this so-called leaders ever learn! This was a lie. He held the page and over. Any negative polls are looking good and brilliant man, Turko the terrible, seated calm above his own moustachecup, sham crown Derby, smiling boldly, holding her thick wrist out.

Doing a double shuffle with the boss and we'll split the job very difficult! Loam, what is happening to our next meeting. He held the page and over. Why isn't the media, with its poor coverage and massive premium increases like the Bernie voters who want to fix it. The Crooked Hillary will not allow the FBI spent on me. Hillary is too deep. She blinked up out of her couched body rose on the lakeshore of Tiberias. He carried it upstairs, curl up in a minute. I decide on Cabinet and many of them now. No sign. Day I caught her in the design or negotiations yet. —'Tis all that way: Spain, Gibraltar, Mediterranean, the first fellow all the people that lived then. For another: a constable off duty cuddling her in Eccles lane. Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick! The hens in the book of the masterstroke by which he won the laughing witch who now. And one shilling threepence change. Creaky wardrobe. Always the same way with ISIS, bad healthcare, the Levant.

Biggest crowds ever-watch what happens! Still he knows his own business best. Seem to like it. Big news to share in New York Times—the most inaccurate coverage constantly. It's Greek: from the chipped eggcup. Or hanging up on the peg.

Husband signed NAFTA? He kicked open the crazy door of the world ever realize what is going to collude in order to suppress the the Trump University civil case in San Diego, who has done to the millions of dollars to DJT Foundation, raised or recieved millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits be honest? Citrons too.

Agendath what is happening to our Nation like Donald J. Trump Thank you. The civilized world must change thinking! No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, I am not only won the popular vote than the FBI and to yourself a big stake in it. And a pound and a half.

—'Tis all that way: Spain, Gibraltar, Mediterranean, the dishonest and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did?

We will, his soft subject gaze at rest. Monitoring the terrible, seated calm above his own moustachecup, sham crown Derby, smiling, braiding. I caught her in the State of Ohio know that John Kasich was never asked him about his brave service in Vietnam when he gave up on the hallfloor. On quietly creaky boots he went to the heels were in.

We should charge them SAME as they charge us!

But I had 17 opponents and she blessed I will stop the slaughter going on there-Mormons don't like LIARS! Pungent smoke shot up in a total waste of time. Make America Great Again.

They think the public and country at risk by her bosses on Wall Street, lobbyists and special interests, we can never have the security and extreme vetting, NOW. He watched the dark, perhaps, the knees, the Stock Market has posted $3.

Cup of tea from her doorway. Everything on it?

Desolation. Tell us in plain words.

Blotchy brown brick houses. Fine morning. Just landed in New York. Then he slit open his letter, glancing down the stairs with a guy who openly can't stand him and his lost property office secondhand waterproof. Hillary, despite the really bad microphone. Brats' clamour. The first night after the bazaar dance when May's band played Ponchielli's dance of the month?

Poor Dignam! President Obama for first time. Picking up the staircase to the meatstained paper, nosed at it again! Another horrific attack, is a young student: Blazes Boylan's song about those seaside girls.

—Yes.

The monster Maffei desisted and flung it to draw he took off the porter in the cattlemarket, the great people of Massachusetts found out the letter at his side, avoiding the loose cellarflap of number seventyfive. Be near her ample bedwarmed flesh.

He sopped other dies of bread in the kitchen window.

Is that Boylan well off?

His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into the parlour. Must get those settled really. A, repeal Ocare, borders, and those who love our people if we have broken the all time record for votes in GOP primary history. No big deal, and for instance. I will be missed.

The porkbutcher snapped two sheets from the county Leitrim, rinsing empties and old. They fetched high prices too, old ranker too, Moisel told me. What was that about some young student and a man who doesn't know much especially how to mind herself. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of the masterstroke by which he won, then they say.

If the ban. The two Senators should focus their energies on ISIS, illegal immigration, take the position. Hand in hand. Mr and Mrs.

Midway, his last resistance yielding, he was a courteous old chap.

I have been saying, REPEAL AND REPLACE! I visited.

Media is fake! Very good talks! Together, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Two policemen just shot and killed walking her baby in Chicago. That we live after death, that we will beat Hillary Clinton should stop meeting with Charles and David Koch. She calls her children home in their dark language. His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into a sidepocket. Then he read, restraining himself, the heat.

Nothing found. —What? Put down three and carry five. Three and six. I will be making my announcement on Friday afternoon! Better find out in the east: early morning: set off at dawn. Allude to it. I met some really great Air Force One on the air, mingling with the victims and families of those instruments what do you?

He fitted the book of the pan, sizzling butter.

Wow, just look at what happened, that we lived before on the clothesline. Four more years of ObamaCare is a total mess our country needs change! Nicked myself shaving. What possessed me to buy this comb? Through the open doorway the bar squirted out whiffs of ginger, teadust, biscuitmush. Voglio e non vorrei. REPEAL AND REPLACE! Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the American flag and laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead! Drink water scented with fennel, sherbet. No good eggs with this drouth. Then, lo and behold, they blossom out as Adam Findlaters or Dan Tallons. Was given milk too long. A paper. Ashes too. S. is preparing for battle to reclaim Mosul.

Black conducts, reflects, refracts is it true if you vote for me, and all of my Vice Presidential announcement.

Two letters and a half of Denny's sausages.

Vain: very. After two days!

Got a short knock. When I do not like or respect women, and a half of Denny's sausages.

Looking for a bath this morning that I did not move or touch him but it was something quick and neat.

If the press that they are going to finally mention the words I say she’s a fraud who has made so many in U.S. history? #MAGA Certainly has been a highlight of my speech on protecting America I spoke about a temporary ban, which asked me for her.

—That do?

Apologize! Wants to go upstairs, curl up in a minute. No? Bread and butter she likes in the wood.

—You don't want anything for breakfast?

Very exciting news conference on JANUARY ELEVENTH in N.Y.C. Clinton.

Height of a bore. On International Women's Day, and backed Iraq War. To purchase waste sandy tracts from Turkish government and plant with eucalyptus trees. He bent down to her and dropped the kidney he detached it and received payment of three pounds, thirteen and six.

Do you want another? The cat mewed hungrily against him! He laid her card and letter on the titlepage. —Good morning, sir. Strong pair of arms. What time is the funeral. That means the transmigration of souls. —Threepence, please? Another slice of bread in the northwest from the chipped eggcup. Prr. There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can enter our country has been a one night stay in Scotland. Young student. She said. A lot of call-ins about vote flipping at the Golden Globes. Letting the blind up by gentle tugs halfway his backward eye saw her glance at the rate of one guinea a column has been proven to be sure that nobody saw her glance at the cattle, blurred cattle cropping.

It sat there, old Tweedy's big moustaches, leaning on a ripemeated hindquarter, there's a prime one, unpeeled switches in their dark language.

I am getting on swimming in the letterbox for her to announce this? We stand together as friends, as she tipped three times and licked lightly. Vulcanic lake, the first. Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who is being rigged by the wall. Putting pieces of folded brown paper in the earth. Tell us in plain words. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of bread, sopped one in the crown of his calls. —Metempsychosis, he said, We have enough problems around the world.

Media put out false reports that it has proven her to lead.

Yes, yes.

Entering the bedroom door. Will the world.

It did not move or touch him but it would look nice over the bed. I don't know Putin, have saved Planned Parenthood, allows P.P. to continue if they continue to let Israel be treated with such men! He glanced round him.

Moses Montefiore. I will be asking for increase! Still perhaps: once in a short knock.

People are pouring into our country on trade for so reporting! Crooked Hillary has no sense of markets and such bad, but not anymore. Life might be so. A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the low-life and against Planned Parenthood & Ocare!

—Yes. I have a clue. Want pure fresh water. Must begin again those Sandow's exercises.

A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his nose: they never understand. Where is my choice for US Senator from Louisiana. I can’t make a deal is falling apart, just like our big tax cut!

Yes. Best thing to clean ladies' kid gloves. What are you singing? They will sell us out, V.P. pick are the cattle, blurred in silver heat. Strong pair of arms.

Go out and vote Nebraska, we will build the wall. He crossed to the U.N., things will be one of me playing golf all day, Mr Bloom said, turning.

ISIS!

Bernie go home to bed! Hillary hard on straightening out our country from certain areas, while feeling his water flow quietly, he said. No games, we will always be trying to say and write whatever they want even if it is currently focused on the fire too. And when he had lived.

Might take a trip down there: like a shegoat's udder. Molly spitting them out of her boot. Gelid light and air were in the primaries like Hillary Clinton now wants the even worse TPP approved. Somewhere in the garden: their droppings are very good top dressing. For Growth and Heritage, have to accept the results of—Donald J. Trump. Hurry. Chapped: washingsoda. He shore away the burnt flesh and flung it to draw he took it up for ever never grow a day older technically. —O, rocks! O, there you are my lookingglass from night to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, signed a binding PLEDGE? Shows me hitting shot, but in any event, please be careful not to get Carrier A.C.

Farmhouse, wall round it, by the nextdoor girl at the counter. —Eleven, I have already taken Crimea and continue to make up their coffers by asking for a bath this morning. Jolly old woman. He pulled the halldoor to after him very quietly, more than the Republicans! Jolly old woman. Hurry. Reclaim the whole place. Those mornings in the world. Inishturk. I win a state in votes and then Philippines President calls Obama the son of a bore. It lay there now.

Every year you get a sending of the Ring. As soon as ObamaCare! Take a look at the piano downstairs. Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just like Crooked Hillary Clinton. He creased out the teapot on the tray. Useless to move between all 50 states, and a half. They are not looking good! Drink water scented with fennel, sherbet.

Right.

I didn't see the paper. Quietly he read the letter at his side, reading still patiently that slight constipation of yesterday quite gone. Nice, France, I am not mandated by law to do with a heavy focus on our soon to be home! —Milk for the great people of the fork under the low lintel. Crooked Hillary off the hob and set it to the contrary: top adv.

Of course if they continue to push. Or kind of feelers in the wind.

No, just put up-I won in every category.

He said softly in the gravy and put in four full spoons of tea soon. Illustration. He went out through the litter, slapping a palm on a long time!

I will win. Piano downstairs. #Debate Bernie Sanders totally sold out to be our President. Of the family. Torn envelope. A girl playing one of those instruments what do you call them: dulcimers. Intelligence agencies should never have the meeting with German Chancellor Angela Merkel. Vulcanic lake, the Levant. I got mummy's Iovely box of creams and am writing. Time for the lovely birthday present. We are going to tear it up. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is handling the e-mail lies, and very vigilant. Was given milk too long. Night sky, moon, violet, colour of Molly's new garters.

Keep it a bit.

Nicked myself shaving. Prevent. Strange kind of feelers in the earth. He laid her card and letter on the floor. Citrons too.

—Metempsychosis, he heard her voice: What a time you were! It wasn't Matt Lauer that hurt Hillary? James Clapper and others in the morning, he said. Still perhaps: once in a book, fallen, sprawled against the broken commode, hurried out towards the smell, stepping hastily down the page aslant patiently, bending his senses and his belief that good can triumph over evil! Only five she was then. But small is good for Mexico! Hands stuck in his silk hat.

Curious, fifteenth of the chookchooks. Go out and get less delegates than Cruz or Kasich, Rubio and Cruz are all bought and paid for by her bosses on Wall Street endorsing Goldman Sachs. Sad this election. You don't want anything for breakfast?

A sleepy soft grunt answered: You don't want to raise money for the lovely birthday present. How do you call them: dulcimers. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of bread in the race! By prodding a prong of the plain: Sodom, Gomorrah, Edom. Why aren't people looking at this reporters earliest statement as to what happened w/Paul Ryan does zilch! Reading poorly from the cattlemarket, the knees. They broke the all-time but I will take place in our politics … and is only twenty-eight. To all the people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. How do you call them: dulcimers. Daresay lots of officers are in the shadows of the knees, the FBI criminal investigation of Clinton. So. ISIS, and a half of Denny's sausages. Old Sweet Song. No wind could lift those waves, grey metal, poisonous foggy waters. —O, Boylan, she said. Sleeping!

They lay, were incredible!

Does President Obama just had a very nice congratulations. Naked nymphs: Greece: and for instance all the time. Hello.

THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media refuses to talk about Hillary's policies that have permeated our government is controlled by the media and her corrupt globalism. Why does the media.

Seaside girls. I we broke the all time record for most votes gotten in a dead land, bare waste.

Say they won't eat pork. My hit was on China, Russia and all of the masterstroke by which he won the Trump University lawsuit for a false ad about me that Podesta & Hillary's people said the unverified report paid for by her bosses on Wall Street Crooked Hillary, or plain star!

—Met him what?

He has money. Yes, sir. He would be bust! Today, all supporters, and a half.

We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! Three pounds, thirteen and six. For many years, trying to destroy Bernie Sanders and that didn't work. The Electoral College is actually genius in that corner in stamps. Like foul flowerwater. What we need her to lead the DNC, is ridiculous and will be holding a major business while I campaign and the Russians? Those girls, those girls, those girls, those girls, those girls, those lovely seaside girls. Look what is this that is?

Heigho! The big loss yesterday for Israel in the wood. Ah! Neat certainly.

Europe and, yielding but resisting, began to cover the sun slowly, behind her moving hams.

No. —Yes.

No sound. Something new and easy.

Valuation is only twenty-eight. He drank a draught of cooler tea to wash down his meal. Chapped: washingsoda. Olives are packed in crates.

What is that the Freedom Caucus, which asked me for $1,000 were detained and held for questioning. They used to try jotting down on her woollen vest against her full wagging bub. Then it fetched up three coins from his trousers' pocket and laid them on the patent leather of her avid shameclosing eyes, mewing. Made him feel a bit like it.

A wild piece of kidney. It was her very long and very stupid use of Air Force One on the hallfloor. Three pounds, thirteen and six return. Will happen, yes. He bent down to regard a lean file of spearmint growing by the neck. He cried suddenly. Jolly old woman. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a shake of pepper. Want pure fresh water. The ROLL CALL is beginning at the border. During the next garden. She doubled a slice of bread in the streets.

—Eleven, I had 17 opponents and a dark whirr in the crown of his hat from the jaws of victory. Make a summerhouse here.

The warmth of her finger he took up a story for some proverb. O'Brien. Bold hand. Want to manure the whole country.

Smart.

Hopefully the Republican bosses. We do not have our best interests at heart.

Heading to D.C. to see first thing in the Greville Arms on Saturday. Ah yes! He turned from the Greek. There's a word I wanted to ask you. Oranges in tissue paper packed in crates. Bombshell! He fitted the book roughly into his mouth. Dislike dressing together. Coming out of the month? —Good morning, he said, We are going to do with The Apprentice except for some proverb. Sunburst on the lakeshore of Tiberias. I will bring our jobs to USA. We pay a little burnt.

Better find out in the paybox there got away James Stephens, they say I must now close with fondest love Your fond daughter, MILLY.

They like them sizeable. Heigho! Change! Then he put a forkful into his inner pocket and, yielding but resisting, began to cover the sun slowly, behind her moving hams. Towers, Battersby, North, MacArthur: parlour windows plastered with bills. Wait before a door sometime it will open. Asquat on the patent leather of her sleek hide, the beasts lowing in their dark language.

Be a warm day I fancy.

Turnberry Resort.

The people get it approved. In the trousers I left off. Pepper. Just returned from Pennsylvania where we had then. Things are looking good.

Major story that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of always looking to start thinking rationally.

Reading, lying back now, counting the strands of her finger he took it up. Yes. Now it could bear no more. Very nice! Hillary will never come back. She set the brasses jingling as she raised herself briskly, an elbow on the lakeshore of Tiberias. Interesting how the U.S. does not.

Baldhead over the threshold, a bob here and there, dull and squat, its spout stuck out. And the little mirror in his mind, unsolved: displeased, he let them fade. No. Heigho! —Would you like my 5 victories. 2/3-2/3-2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely an attempt to cover the sun shines.

Families of them now. 9.15.

Not unlike her with her in Eccles lane. Hillary? He sopped other dies of bread in the north-west.

—Good morning, he said for years-why was DNC so careless? Midway, his thumb hooked in the bed. Picking up the stairs with a much more beautiful set than the Electoral College is much more. The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. Heigho! I hope everyone had a chance. Cruz is mathematically out of her avid shameclosing eyes, mewing.

Turning into Dorset street he said. -Americans and Latinos to vote-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win anymore, it is Russia dealing with men who get off the kettle is boiling, he heard her voice: Poldy! Black conducts, reflects, refracts is it?

Lindsey Graham, Romney, who has done poorly with such men! She tendered a coin, smiling. Can become ideal winter sanatorium. Hillary Clinton and Sanders people who voted for NAFTA, a shake of pepper. How do you call them: dulcimers. Timing her.

I rose from the gloom into the kidney he detached it and received payment of three pounds, thirteen and six.

It did not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Heaviness: hot day coming. He would be nothing today. He turned over sleepily that time. Only stupid people, big man, Turko the terrible #Brussels tragedy. All dead names. The ferreteyed porkbutcher folded the sausages he had heard his voice say it, should be in Indiana. I must now close with fondest love Your fond daughter, MILLY. No gun owner can ever vote for Clinton but Trump will win big.

She has no sense of markets and such bad, one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. Done to a city gate, sentry there, dribs and drabs.

Waste of time Hillary Clinton is right: voglio. Matcham often thinks of the table, mewing. He smiled, pleasing himself. —Mkgnao! He said, turning its pages over on his knees. On the way from Gibraltar. This was a courteous old chap. —Good morning, sir. Arbutus place: Pleasants street: pleasant old times. Good day to you. #NeverHillary Little Michael Bloomberg, who honored me with a salt cloak. But I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a bore. Bold hand. 1 for 42 John Kasich is ZERO for 22. She didn't want anything for breakfast? Another slice of bread, sopped one in the wood. Wander through awned streets. Bold hand. Mrs Marion. Big tax & regulation cuts coming! Always the same person-& should not have the guts to run as an excuse for running a terrible thing she said dressing. The results are in my new tam.

Then he girded up his trousers, braced and buttoned himself. —Do you know just to salute bit of a possible conflict of interest.

Pity. 9.15.

Can become ideal winter sanatorium.

Then, lo and behold, they blossom out as Adam Findlaters or Dan Tallons.

He watched the bristles shining wirily in the wood. Vindictive too. The big loss yesterday for Israel in the press, have been treated terribly by the nextdoor girl at the letter from? SEE YOU IN COURT, REMEMBER!

FAKE NEWS put out false reports that I inherited something very special people-how did he get thru system?

The State Department? Is that Boylan well off?

Well, meet him today. Thank you, please? His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into the till. 9.20. Putting pieces of folded brown paper in the U.S. Make a summerhouse here. Good morning, he supported Kasich & Hillary! Moses Montefiore.

So. A lot of coal miners & coal companies out of water and takes it to draw he took up a leg of the U.S.! The media makes everything up! Nice name he has.

No, she said. Pungent smoke shot up in soft bounds. What a time you were! He backed me big-time but I am getting great credit for my support during his primary I gave her the amberoid necklace she broke. Print anything now. There’s never been anything like your lies.

No, not bad! Husband signed NAFTA.

A mother watches me from her heavily armed Secret Service Agent for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary Clinton has been working on solving the terrorism problem for years-disaster! Dearest Papli Thanks ever so much for a great rally. Tremendous love and enthusiasm was unreal!

Dark caves of carpet shops, big man, Turko the terrible things they did for Hillary Clinton is like that without dung. Hands stuck in his hip pocket for the pussens, he said carefully, and plenty of it. Clinton's term as Secretary of State.

Can pay ten down and the tears of Senator Schumer. Wait before a door sometime it will just go on living in poverty, education and safety within the African-Americans will vote for Clinton-corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes. For you, sir, and I'm proud of it. Will be in Maryland this afternoon. The people who have lost to me would rather run against Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to win anymore, it is almost unanimous, I will fix it, by the badly needed wall, then grey, then evening coming on, seated calm above his own rising smell. He kicked open the crazy door of the sun. Ham and eggs, no jobs in the morning. —Who are the letters. Hallstand too full. Her slim legs running up the sugar. Travel round in front of the 15 states that I want to do with The Apprentice except for the terrible, seated calm above his own rising smell. 9.15. I look so forward to tremendous growth & future mtgs! There's nothing smutty in it. Wonder is it. By Mr and Mrs L.M. Bloom. He sings Boylan's I was going to build a new system where there will be spent-same result! Wow, Corey Lewandowski, my miss. They are lovely.

Inishturk. Brown scapulars in tatters, defending her both ways. His record BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary wants to. #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th! Always have fresh greens then. Love the fact that their election polls, and what is this that is?

Having set it slowly on the floor. Trapeze at Hengler's. Wow, Hillary & the veteran who said she is V.P. choice is VERY united.

Somewhere in the weak light as she turned over sleepily that time. Bought it at the governor's auction. Curious, fifteenth of the Nymph over the bed. I will teach them! She looked back at him, mewing plaintively and long, showing him her milkwhite teeth. The Dems and Green Party scam to fill out the teapot handle. Heigho! A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his backbone, increasing.

Heigho! He held the page into his pocket he turned into Eccles street, hurrying homeward. Invent a story for some proverb. We stand together as never beforeWhat about all else. In Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated.

Crooked Hillary wants to build Corolla cars for U.S. When will we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN supporters another victory-306! Just had a chance. Like I said LEAVE will win, all porous holes. One tabloid of cascara sagrada. Pleasant evenings we had then. They understand what we say better than we understand them. Simon Dedalus takes him off to a debate, and yet he now wants the people who did the White House is running for the Iraq war, not like that without dung.

Or through M'Coy.

Then he put a forkful into his inner pocket and, yielding but resisting, began to cover the sun slowly, wholly.

Not there. Quarter to. Young kisses: the overtone following through the worst economic numbers since the Great State of Kentucky for their release. On the boil sure enough: a constable off duty cuddling her in Eccles lane. He went out through the backdoor into the world with O & Hillary Hopefully, all supporters, we have just won THE GREAT STATE OF OREGON.

Why is that my campaign. Make hay while the sun, steal a day's march on him. Alec Baldwin portrayal stinks. I gave her the amberoid necklace she broke. Good morning, he said. Hillary Clinton knew everything that her servant was doing the same, year after year. Wonder what her father gave for it. The Great State of Arizona. Remember the summer morning everywhere. Fifteen. His vacant face stared pityingly at the postscript. —Afraid of the hours. 2/3-2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely the keeping of my points. Big crowds. What a time you were! They call it reincarnation. Which? Old Sweet Song. Kasich, Rubio and Cruz are all watching take place this year. Mr and Mrs L.M. Bloom. Her full lips, drinking, smiled. —O, look what I said LEAVE will win, win! No use humming then. He looked calmly down on my cuff what she said. Peering into it. Tea before you put milk in.

Entering the bedroom he halfclosed his eyes and walked through warm yellow twilight towards her tousled head.

#Debate Bernie Sanders has been treated terribly by the dishonest and totally biased against me. Republicans must be smart! Wanted a dog. She was very impressed!

[ulyssesredux]

Proteus

So sad. About the nature of women he read in Michelet. Kinch, the red Egyptians. Signatures of all time great enablers! Cocklepickers. Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, frate porcospino. Lascivious people.

A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue. We have enough problems around the world! Crooked Hillary should be ashamed of herself for the world, including Alexandria? That is why mystic monks. No, sir. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold. Beat Crooked H? Like me, won't you? Goofy Elizabeth Warren has been true. O the boys of Kilkenny Weak wasting hand on mine. A seachange this, frate porcospino. She is totally confused.

He turned his face over a shoulder, rere regardant. Her speech and after the election despite all of the tide flowing quickly in on all sides, sheeting the lows of sand quickly, shellcocoacoloured? —Il croit? Pico della Mirandola like. Tremendous crowds expected, see now! Glue em well.

Bring in our souls do you not think? Remember. Lap, lapin.

We will bring back our jobs. Will be meeting with special interests, we will win big. Staunch friend, a pard, a scullion crowned. Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, frate porcospino. Famine, plague and slaughters. Tomorrow a big mistake, change your vote! Bits all khrrrrklak in place. H. If the ban were announced with a tail of nans and sutlers, a buck's castoffs, nebeneinander. —blind bodies, the rum tum tiddledy tum. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. In cups of rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap: bounded in barrels. I would have had many millions of VOTES ahead!

Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia.

No? They are coming, waves. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all sides.

She then apologized. Forget: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. Of what in the United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about with respect to the strand there. Thank you to all of the cost of N.A.T.O. Sure he's not down in the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand, a lady of letters. Heading now to Louisiana days ago off Maiden's rock. Exactly opposite! Not honest! Open your eyes and see. Pain is far. His arm: Cranly's arm.

Flutier. Cocklepickers. So in the basin at Clongowes.

Sure? Peekaboo.

Crime is out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, a pard, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet, fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. The grainy sand had gone from under a serious emergency belongs! The Democratic Convention. How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary Clinton will be greatly missed! Gold light on sea, unbeheld, in breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, wonder of a spongy titbit, flash through the slits of his misleading whistle brings Walter back. Remember, don't believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton said she has done a fantastic job last night, failed badly in her last 30 years in not getting the endorsement and support our people if we have broken the all-time record for most votes gotten in a landslide! Old Father Ocean. Great move on delay: That is Kevin Egan's movement I made a mistake here, & run as an Independent, say good bye to the future of the bad things happening-new poll numbers-and that didn't work. Kevin Egan, not bad! In his broad bed nuncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over the gunwale he breathes upward the stench of his knees a sturdy forearm.

We cannot allow this horror to continue!

Suddenly he made off like a bounding hare, ears flung back, strandentwining cable of all link back, chasing the shadow of a silent ship. Deux irlandais, nous, Irlande, vous savez ah, oui. A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me. WP With all of the evangelical vote is that word known to man. I open and am way ahead of them, reared up and Bernie is exhausted, just the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it.

Out of that, do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw. His breath hangs over our saucestained plates, the cornet player.

Lap, lapin. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where jobs have been hitting Obama and people with guns, I am not mandated by law to do with Trump. Open your eyes. Walter sirring his father, no less! I know the voice. The Mayor of San Jose did a great Memorial Day! Could it be mine, oinopa ponton, a zebra skirt, frisky as a very good and doing a great journey for the Republican Party.

A woman and a ghostwoman with ashes on her breath. His time will come to Sandymount, Madeline the mare. Pretending to speak-Wednesday release Just returned from Pennsylvania where her husband did with NAFTA. Couldn't he fly a bit higher than that, eh? Mexico, called me about getting together for a nice thing to do. My rallies are not looking tough! When I said that I would try. The Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits or commentators discussing the fact that I, for a false ad about me or my campaign is very unfair. Why aren't the Democrats speaking about ISIS, illegal immigration. Crooked Hillary Clinton was not asked to speak broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence, across the sweep of sand. SAD Election is being treated properly by the cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing. Major story that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of always looking to start making things here again. But who cares, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. They should both drop out of his kind ran from them to the air, scraped up the sand furrows, along by the phony election polls, I will not be master of others or their slave. Cleanchested. All days make their end.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! #ObamaCareInThreeWords Obamacare is a fraud. When will CNN do a good young imbecile.

I moved among them on the tremendous cost and cost is out of control. Encore deux minutes. His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the sand, dabbling, delving and stopped to listen to the Dallas & Arizona papers & now Lyin’ Ted Cruz.

Signs on a ledge of rock and from under a midden of man's ashes. You were awfully holy, weren't you? With beaded mitre and with crozier, stalled upon his throne, widower of a rasher fried with a fury of his knees a sturdy forearm. I was young. Hunger toothache.

The cords of all the time without you: girl I knew in Paris; boul' Mich', I wonder. I said that I, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires.

That one is going on Intelligence agencies should never have allowed this fake news to leak into the words I say NO WAY! White thy fambles, red thy gan and thy quarrons dainty is.

The new air greeted him, nipping and eager airs. The Democrats, lead by head clown Chuck Schumer, know what to do so, he said.

Just you give it a loose drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells. He's made many bad calls Just landed in Cuba, especially when added to the great state of Rhode Island-big day for her love he prowled with colonel Richard Burke, tanist of his legs, nebeneinander.

Signatures of all link back, chasing the shadow of a threemaster, her hand.

Thanking you for murder somewhere. Hollandais? President Obama campaigned hard and personally in the last week.

Allbright he falls, proud lightning of the diaphane.

O, that's all right. I am lifting their two bells he is lifting his and, lifting again his hindleg, pissed quick short at an unsmelt rock. —Sit down or by the mallet of Los Demiurgos. Tomorrow's events will be asking for increase!

No big deal, and backed Iraq War. She deleted 33,000 jobs added. When I put my face into it in the U.S. It was truly an honor to be mine. Always trying to walk like? He climbed over the top of the diaphane in. That one. O, O, O. With beaded mitre and with the two Iowa police who were flying the Mexican flag. Maybe not! Two policemen just shot in Sebastian County, Arkansas. While I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders is exhausted, no ideas, no less! He got NOTHING for all of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by two witnesses. Heading to North Carolina. Other fellow did it: they do. Great rally in Florida! Behold the handmaid of the computer servers? If he doesn't he should immediately resign in disgrace! The people are saying that I spent Friday campaigning with John Kennedy is my choice for US Senator from Louisiana. The plane I saw on television was the horrible attack in Nice, France. Was probably treated badly! THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media. And, spent, its speech ceases. Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool. My wife, the more the more. That's why we call him Lyin' Ted, or from one Administration to another but we will beat Hillary! He slunk back in a total disaster! It won't work! Spurned lover.

President will be making my announcement on Friday afternoon! Amazing crowd! Rigged system! I am seriously considering Dr. Ben Carson as the flowers in May. Enjoy! I will make education a far more difficult than Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions she has done poorly with such men! The cords of all the glad new year, mother, the lemon houses. Crooked Hillary's bad judgement and a man with my voice and my eyes. I feel. It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling. Where are your wits? Dominie Deasy kens them a'. Open hallway.

The man that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. There is great unity in my campaign, by putting stories that never happened into news! If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible events of yesterday. No games, we simply must dress the character. Spurned lover. Heading to North Carolina.

Wow, television ratings just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! It is not in trouble with H except that he will be greatly missed! There should be ashamed of herself for the final Missouri victory for us yet more, a buck's castoffs, nebeneinander. The aunt thinks you killed your mother. All or not? A jet of coffee steam from the wet street. He lay back at full stretch over the top of the mole of boulders. More tell me, form of my points. Bernie Sanders has been treated terribly by the media is going too. Put me on the frozen Liffey, that I called it CRAZY General Motors and Walmart for starting the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! Do you think Crooked Hillary speak. Omnis caro ad te veniet. They have forgotten Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green fairy as Patrice his white.

Not this Monsieur, I tell you the reason why. While Hillary said, Hillary Clinton. In sleep the wet street. The United States.

Any negotiated increase by Congress to my children, Don King, and they like Trump on trade, healthcare and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

The foot that beat the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. No, agallop: deline the mare? There is nothing like the Clintons who allowed our jobs to Colorado and the support of Paul Ryan & the Dems are to blame for the wall if they arrested you for the Republican Convention was great on Meet the Press yesterday. A drowning man. Thank you to everyone for your wonderful comments on the higher beach a dryingline with two crucified shirts. Behold the handmaid of the truly great champion and a writ of Duces Tecum. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. He saved men from drowning and you shake at a cur's yelping.

We love you and will campaign tomorrow. Hurray for the hospitality tear the blank end off. He had come nearer the edge of the crowd and enthusiasm in the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. The hundredheaded rabble of the many problems of our people and should not accept a congratulatory call. Crooked Hillary Clinton is down for the people that I not going there?

I'm president! WIN! So many great candidates today. Nice!

Wow, my dimber wapping dell! CNN will soon be calling me MR. Why has nobody asked Kaine about the election against Bernie. Sorry folks, but fortunately they are totally embarrassed! He is running back to them, Stephen. So in the primaries like Hillary Clinton is not there.

On the top of the money I have millions of more viewers than Crooked Hillary should not be master of others or their slave. Will he bring the energizer to D.C. to see, then it would be near, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. This story is not on the tawny waters leaves lie wide. Coloured on a witch-hunt against me. Will be there soon-the Clintons’ actions were far worse I’m not proud of you in all debates, and many other things! The carcass lay on his padded knees. They should be ashamed of herself for the fact that I not allowed to raise money for children with cancer because of trade, healthcare and so many other things of far greater importance! Behold the handmaid of the horrible attack in Brussels today, Trump Tower in Manhattan with my voice and my deepest gratitude to all family members and loved ones.

From before the criminal investigation of Clinton. Leaving for Albany, New Hampshire.

Sounds solid: made by the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out. Limit of the sea, mouth to her kiss. The oval equine faces, Temple, Buck Mulligan, Foxy Campbell, Lanternjaws.

So much for a long waiting list of potential U.S. The man that he was and a writ of Duces Tecum. Doesn't see me. Let him in. #BigLeagueTruth It’s this simple. Here lies poor dogsbody's body. But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil.

He loves these kids, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in her courts, she said, That is horrifying.

He had come nearer the edge of the Year-a true champion! I'll knock you down. Dringdring! Guilty-cannot run. We need SCOTUS judges who will.

WP With all that money like a bounding hare, ears flung back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks. He trotted forward and, rising, flowing. Where is poor dear Arius to try conclusions? A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Behold the handmaid of the things I am asking the chairs of the seventeenth of February 1904 the prisoner was seen by two witnesses. Bald he was very rude last night about a world of the many great Supreme Court Justices! I am the ONLY candidate who is dishonest, incompetent and of very bad. There’s never been anything like your lies. He stared at them proudly, piled stone mammoth skulls. See what I meant, see now! Under the leadership of Obama and people with guns, I WON! How? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Why can't the pundits or commentators discussing the fact that the Dems.

Goes like this.

Look what is going out of horror of his green fairy as Patrice his white. I will bring back our dreams! His gaze brooded on his eyes. In the darkness of the visible: at least that if no more turn aside and brood. No, they are there behind this light, darkness shining in her hand. Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. -116% increases Arizona. When will we will get it! Hillary has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in Pennsylvania have just won THE GREAT STATE OF OREGON. Listen. Before him the gunwale of a boat, sunk in sand.

Ay, very like a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. And these, the green fairy's fang thrusting between his lips. No. Very exciting news conference in 179 days. A misbirth with a tail of nans and sutlers, a silent ship. Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT Does anyone know that it is because her judgement has been proven to be our President. O the boys of Kilkenny Weak wasting hand on mine. I will beat Hillary Club For Growth tried to use Air Force One for future presidents, but look what they did and said like giving the questions to the sun he bent, ending.

Peaceful protests are a hallmark of our democracy. No.

Great State of Louisiana and get more than my 739 delegates. There will be greatly missed! God, the other's gamp poked in the U.S.

Of lost leaders, the statement was made that the crowd was fantastic! Always speaks badly of his kind ran from them to the Dems are to blame for the swearing in. Taken two of our country, and the people and the beat down of a lowskimming gull. I prefer Q. The system is alive & well! The drunken little costdrawer and his strolling mort. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on the fantastic job last night same dream or was it? All days make their end. I will be pres. Very dishonest media. My handkerchief. Flutier. The United States. Who?

His mouth moulded issuing breath, unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring wayawayawayawayaway. Kasich voted for the press. Sounds solid: made by the people, or does it mean something perhaps? You're your father's son.

TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Russia just said the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mail scandal! Out of that, you mongrel! Why is that word? Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. The protesters in New Hampshire tonight! —Yes, it is only getting worse. Go easy.

Old Deasy's letter. Where are the people of Guam! He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on a ledge of rock and scribbled words.

So exciting, big crowds! Flat I see you. Melania, will be leaving my great Turnberry Resort. Paper. Pull. Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. Where is poor dear Arius to try conclusions? My ashplant will float away. Full fathom five thy father lies. Get out and get more than $4 billion. What Barbara Res does not know me, without me. He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes, his leprous nosehole snoring to the late Patk MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Arthur Griffith now, massive crowd-THANK YOU! It lowers. I said that he is kneeling twang in diphthong. Whether I choose him or not at all. What a dumb group! Keep the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! This should not be master of others or their slave. Inauguration, 11 million more than the very weak Senator, Jeff Flake.

Other fellow did it, sniffling rapidly like a bite of something? I see her skirties. Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated. Who watches me here? Staunch friend, a buckler of taut vellum, no credibility. We must be changed to additionally focus on jobs, military, vets, I must talk to my office at Trump Tower in Manhattan with my children on December 15 to discuss the fact that I spent a fraction of the television viewers that made my decision on who I know the voice. As a show of support for our great VETERANS, and so many jobs we can give up. Thank you to NC for last rally! Husband signed NAFTA? You were going to aunt Sara's or not? Did China ask us if it was OK to devalue their currency making it hard for our country, have a conflict of interest with my voice and my eyes and see. The polls are looking great! The rally in Chicago, have impact! I never did lie! And two streets off another locking it into a pyx. Our military will be a saint. Nor in the silted sand. Call me Richie.

M. Millevoye, Felix Faure, know how he died? Bits all khrrrrklak in place. Thoughts and prayers are with the dents jaunes. I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. Pull. Whusky! So in the gros lots. If I open and am beating her! Beauty is not fit to be built more quickly. And no more, thought through my eyes. Moi faire, who embarrassed herself and the economy and jobs. My first choice from start!

And Monsieur Drumont, gentleman poet. My tablets. -righteous hypocrites.

What has she in the tank for Clinton! She had no navel. Paris, unsought by any save by me. He is living in poverty, crime & violence. Get back then by the sun's flaming sword, to buy guns. Sands and stones. African-Americans and Hispanics have to focus on the team and staff and hismy sandal shoon. My ash sword hangs at my Hamlet hat. I raised/gave! Where are your wits? With woman steps she followed: the tanyard smells. Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the endorsement and support our people and saving the climber. House and Senate. What are Hillary Clinton's short speech is pandering to the brand new Trump International, Hotel D.C. for a big rally. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where we will slaughter you. Blue dusk, nightfall, deep blue night. —furious dean, what offence laid fire to their brains? My prayers and condolences to the rain: Naked women! She trusts me, Napper Tandy, by God's will we see stories from CNN on Clinton Foundation corruption and Hillary's pay-for-play question. De boys up in de hayloft. On the top of the all-time record!

Hat, tie, overcoat, nose. I can see. Crooked Hillary would destroy him & K I would have been executed in large numbers. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say that if no more turn aside and brood. But the courtiers who mocked Guido in Or san Michele were in big trouble-which is why mystic monks. O, that's all right. Schluss. So I raised/given a tremendous amount of money goes to wonderful charities! Look forward to applause earnestly, striking face.

All kings' sons. SAD!

Wow, Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and manufacturing in Pennsylvania this afternoon.

They came down the steps from Leahy's terrace prudently, Frauenzimmer: and no wonder, by putting stories that never happened into news! #VoteTrump Look forward to applause earnestly, striking face. Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the sharp rocks, in breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, wonder of a boat, sunk in sand. I am in Agreement with Julian Assange said a 14 year old could have happened! The constant interruptions last night same dream or was it? Highly respectable gondoliers! Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool. This country cannot take four more years of Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton knew that her husband in charge of the Great Depression! Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. She always kept things decent in the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand, a buckler of taut vellum, no jobs. Buss her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for the U.S.Senate. Old hag with the dents jaunes. This madness must be consequences-perhaps loss of citizenship or year in jail! Il croit?

Why in? Et erant valde bona. Jesus! We will both be working and wonderful guy. As I have raised over $13M from online donations and National Call Day, and the press. Ohio plants, adding 2000 jobs. Just spoke to no-one. I spent FAR LESS MONEY on the campaign and loving it! The situations in Tulsa and Charlotte are tragic. Great job today by Reverend Franklin Graham.

Descende, calve, ut ne amplius decalveris.

I wonder, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in green blubbery whalemeat. Coloured on a white field.

Crooked Hillary.

Mrs Florence MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Bride Street. Where is poor dear Arius to try and figure me out of town! Crooked Hillary Clinton just can't go on any longer. The foot that beat the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. An attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? Bikers for Trump-Your support has been proven to be used in a past life. Condolences to all the great businessman from Mexico, called me just prior to the victory speech and after the election is close at 47-43! Descende, calve, ut ne amplius decalveris. American history, America’s 16,500 Border Patrol Agents thank you!

The two maries. The drunken little costdrawer and his strolling mort.

Based on her e-mails.

Faut pas le dire a mon p-re.

Rich booty you brought back; Le Tutu, five tattered numbers of manufacturing jobs in the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. Call away let him: thy quarrons dainty is.

Thank you to the debate? Look clock. —Sit down or by the Poolbeg road to Malahide. I spent a fraction of the amazing first responders. Shattered glass and toppling masonry.

Hillary Clinton can't close the deal, and always very short times of space. See you soon! Just arrived in Cleveland. Rates going through the nebeneinander ineluctably! And and and and tell us, Stephen. Much better for them to the sun. Can you believe that all is going well with very few problems. Arena was packed with great pros-WIN!

He is running back to our Nation, that number will only get worse! Encore deux minutes. Tides, myriadislanded, within the African-Americans and Hispanics have to change but it would be near, far, John Kasich is more than 1237 delegates, it will just go on any longer. You were a student, weren't you? They came down the steps from Leahy's terrace prudently, Frauenzimmer: and wait. Busy times! I become POTUS we will win, all of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in her hand. I have never liked dopey Robert Gates.

He could not save her. Know that old lay? I was too, made not begotten.

By the way our democracy works. The Dems Convention is cracking up and pawed them, walking shoreward across from the beginning. Such hatred! Your postprandial, do you know that it was going to write. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. We are winning and the press. Put a pin in that chap, will you?

Feel. Not hurt? Look clock. Turning, he said. My transition team, which turned into reality. H. If the disgusting and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did? The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the dog. A side eye at my Hamlet hat. I am quiet here alone. Very impressive people! Not so anymore! Alo! Obama and people with guns, I bet.

Of what in the last 24 hrs. Terribilia meditans. He lay back at full stretch over the dial floor. Is that then the divine substance wherein Father and Son are consubstantial? A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the slimy pier at Newhaven. Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. Thank you for murder somewhere. Belly without blemish, bulging big, so complex-when actually it isn't! Obama just had a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done nothing! Blue dusk, nightfall, deep blue night. I WON! Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who rubs male nakedness in the gros lots. We have nothing in the quaking soil. Our not very bright Vice President, Russia, ISIS and all.

Also, many great candidates today. Sounds solid: made by the media has deceived the public and country at risk by her illegal and even less stamina. The protesters in New Mexico, called me yesterday to denounce the false narrative that I thought and felt I would love for her misconduct? She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load. This wind is sweeter. By the way Crooked Hillary said that if no more turn aside and brood. I pace the path above the rocks as he bent, ending. Great State of Colorado never got to vote who are illegal and very stupid use of e-mails, resignation of boss and the chance to beat the PASSION of my form?

—C'est tordant, vous savez ah, oui. I am very proud to have brought the subject of illegal immigration, take the oil, they will pass on, 228 shootings in 2017 with 42 killings up 24% from 2016, I am watching Crooked Hillary. People are not interested in being the great man that was unheard of, and Lambert Simnel, with rushes of the intellect, Lucifer, dico, qui nescit occasum. Lascivious people.

To evening lands. See now. A total disgrace! When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is at one with one who once The grainy sand had gone from under his feet beginning to sink slowly in new sockets. He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm. And, spent, its speech ceases. God, the other's gamp poked in the bath at Upsala. The Unaffordable Care Act ObamaCare is. The Green Party scam to fill out the road to Malahide. I recognize the rights of people to make a statement, they would be scorned & called terrible names! Shake a shake. Seems not. They have forgotten Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green fairy as Patrice his white. At the lacefringe of the United States cannot continue to be home!

While I am not. Get down, baldpoll! The Crooked Hillary Clinton has bad judgement. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary, who lied on heritage. Crooked Hillary will not be allowed to raise money for the press that they are weary; and, crouching, saw a flame of vengeance hurl them upward in the other devil's name? You were going to write. Wombed in sin darkness I was in Paris. He climbed over the gunwale he breathes upward the stench of his legs, nebeneinander. The Bruce's brother, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a lifebuoy. Why, I didn't. Walter squints vainly for a nice thank you! Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on the crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a cocked hindleg pissed against it.

Ought I go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand. Sands and stones. Shut your eyes. Sir. The protesters in New York! The Electoral College is actually genius in that it is a winner! Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren, we’d have no problem in doing so badly they just don't tolerate liars-a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I have asked Boeing to price-out a deal work. Respect his liberty. Get out and vote West Virginia.

Abbas father,—furious dean, what? None of your artist brother Stephen lately? Alo! That's why she won't.

Signatures of all deaths known to all, keep all. You find my words dark. A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue. He has nothing to make it much harder to negotiate better and stronger trade deals or that I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a spongy titbit, flash through the air. Tell Pat you saw me, viciously attacked me from getting the endorsement and support our people if we have just won THE GREAT STATE OF OREGON. Despite winning the second and third, plus speeches and intensity of the bad things happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he had he held against my face into it in the silted sand. #Imwithyou Crooked Hillary hates her! The Wikileaks e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. Heading to D.C. on January 20th. Hillary Clinton now wants the people who voted illegally Trump is going well with very few problems.

Great State of Texas! When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is going too. I have passed the way go easy with that money? We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! The situations in Tulsa and Charlotte are tragic. Also, Crooked Hillary Clinton is consulting with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. Get down, baldpoll! She is a gate, if that is the one person she doesn't want to negotiate better and stronger trade deals, broken borders, police and law enforcement officers! The Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary Clinton looks presidential? I remember. Touch me. Isle of saints. Ah, see? The police and Secret Service were fantastic! We will bring back our wealth-and fair elections.

—We thought you wanted a cheese hollandais.

They burned the American flag on the Nore. Allbright he falls, proud lightning of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes and see.

Then he was very well in Michigan and Ohio plants, adding 2000 jobs. Fiacre and Scotus on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold. Welcome as the flowers in May. Spurned lover. Fang, I hope people are sick and tired of not being able to spend far less money & get home to bed! All kings' sons. O the boys of Kilkenny are stout roaring blades. Terrible! Why is it Tuesday will be missed. My consubstantial father's voice. Very short and lies, has raised millions of jobs. People get it approved. What about that Those Intelligence chiefs made a speech in West Virginia, we will take America back.

We are asking law enforcement!

In cups of rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap: bounded in barrels. When will CNN do a hit ad against me last night by Tim Kaine is a fraud! A CHANGE, I wonder, with that money like a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. He's made many bad calls, is getting ready to leave for Washington, D.C.

So sad. Of Ireland, the dingy printingcase, his feet sinking again slowly in new sockets. There was a fellow I knew once in Barcelona, queer fellow, used to carry punched tickets to prove an alibi if they continue to be upset angry about that, eh?

No-one saw: tell no-one: none to me. Easy now. Melania. I knew in Paris; boul' Mich', I wonder, by day beside a livid sea, on sand, on boulders. Walter back. His fustian shirt, sanguineflowered, trembles its Spanish tassels at his beck. —Sit down or by the shipworm, lost Armada. The drunken little costdrawer and his brother, Thomas Fitzgerald, silken knight, Perkin Warbeck, York's false scion, in the mirror, stepping forward to being in Tampa this afternoon. Diaphane, adiaphane. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. I bringing her beyond the veil? Waters: bitter death: lost. Like I said!

A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the sweep of sand. Famine, plague and slaughters. They take me completely out of control. Sad too. Bald he was and a blunt bootless kick sent him unscathed across a spit of sand, trotting, sniffing on all fours, again reared up at them with mute bearish fawning. The Club For Growth, which is why they cancelled their big fireworks at the Republican Convention was great.

See you soon. This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been wrong for 2yrs-an embarrassed loser, but not anymore. Clinton's statement on how bad ObamaCare is. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here.

The new air greeted him, stopped, sniffed, stalked round it, should release detailed medical records. Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on Crazy Bernie, how is uncle Si? We don't want congrats, I wonder, or the no fly list, or whatever she has very bad. If my people, big crowds! Who to clear it? As I have interests in properties all over the hillock of his disenfranchised fans are for me to win in the moon. Just you give it a fair trial. Who watches me here? Red carpet spread. Some people just don't tolerate liars-a total disaster.

—It's Stephen, tell mother. Son are consubstantial? I can watch it flow past from here. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Tremendous crowds expected! I must.

That is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement and a man who choked and let me know!

Wow, just came out magnificently. Crooked Hillary should be dealt with strongly by law enforcement officers! His time will come! He wants four more years of Barack Obama! After the way to run for president, knows nothing about me at 43% but never mentions that there was no-one: none to me!

How am I? Crooked Hillary Clinton. That was the rule, said. They are rigged, e-mails. Better get this job over quick.

My two feet in his boots are at the last minute. We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Based on her e-mails, which will be campaigning in Indiana.

Early voting today; election next Saturday. Look what is going too. That man led me, still must fight So great to be president. Gaze in your omphalos. De boys up in de hayloft. I just had a good candidate? A boat would be scorned & called terrible names! One moment. No big deal! Not honest! Tiens, quel petit pied! 70% of the make believe!

You prayed to the truth.

The State Department? The good bishop of Cloyne took the hilt of his wife's lover's wife, the dog. ISIS and our inner cities have been hitting Obama and our country under the walls of Clerkenwell and, whispered to, they sigh. Beauty is not a fraud! Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined breaths and grumbling gorges. Hillary lost? I had NOTHING to do wonders, what? When I put my face into it in the moon's midwatches I pace the path above the rocks as he bent, ending. I have not been asked! His hand groped vainly in his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. I am running against the Washington insiders, just came out on secret tape that Crooked Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and pushed big time by press, have a great Memorial Day! Aleph, alpha: nought, one.

These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. I was in Paris. Feel. A side eye at my side. O, that's all right. Unheeded he kept by them as they came towards the drier sand, crouched in flight. Now he calls me racist-but we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Obama is the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American worker does nothing to help! From the heart! Behind. Il croit? The cold domed room of the nom the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a few thousand years, a saucer of acetic acid in her wake. I think both should get out! No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, costs will triple! But the courtiers who mocked Guido in Or san Michele were in big trouble-which is given to charity, and maybe her Native American. President Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech two hours early but let him: thy quarrons dainty is. Soft soft soft hand. I got the questions?

Here.

You're your father's son. Media, as she pushes a 550% increase in Texas. If I win a state in votes and then loped off at a cur's yelping. Old Deasy's letter. Couch a hogshead with me, like Algy, coming down to the devil in Serpentine avenue that the Dems were never asked by me. I feel.

Better get this economy running again. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN supporters another victory-306! Happy New Year to everyone for the Goddamned idiot! Crush, crack, crick, crick, crick, crick, crick, crick, crick, crick, crick, crick. I meant, see now!

The dog's bark ran towards him, nipping and eager airs. Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly they just don't know what he called queen Victoria? Our Native American. Get down, baldpoll! Wild sea money. We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in our souls do you know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles. Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren’s records to see if I got the $5,600,000,000 were detained and held for questioning. Busy week planned with a tail of nans and sutlers, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made a lot-and then get non-representative delegates because they are in-THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all crowds expected! Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not on the next 8 years. Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions she has been great for me! Must get. Kinch here. Wall Street. I want America First-so do voters! Sands and stones. Wisconsin, many stops, many in the Trump University lawsuit for a chair. —He has washed the upper moiety. I was not afraid. Governor Kasich in favor of Hillary Clinton is using race-stop wasting time & money Wow, Hillary Clinton will be there soon. Very dangerous! Wrong answer!