#the fact that she calls people chaps tickles me to pieces

[internalsealpanic]

Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms

mood board by: @knightfall05x​ (wuv you)

summary: You, Tim, and Kon try to bake. It ends well. 

A/n: Thanks to @littleredwing89​ and @multifandomgirl-us​ for proof reading. I was watching Kitchen Nightmares while writing this. I am surprised how fluffy this came out. You can blame my need for more poly and this piece by @symeona​. I have not shut up about this piece 50 years later (Hi Sym *waves*-Fish). I forgot to mention that reader is more or less gender neutral or I attempted.

warnings: Terrible cooking

masterlist

Kon yawns, scratching at his broad chest and running his hand through his tangle of curly black hair. He blinks one eye open successfully to the dim light flooding into the end of the hall likely coming in from the living room. The lights dance, glowing softly with faded color against the dark glossy wood of the floor. 

 Kon’s first sleep-addled thought is, Oh, Aliens. Ok, cool.

 It takes his brain a full minute to realize how much that doesn’t make sense. The apartment is dead silent, lacking the telltale whirring most spaceships give off when they’re hovering, the sounds of nervous fingers tapping against a stack of papers echoing in the mostly empty space. Kon strained his ears trying to focus on the other sounds flitting in the room. He can hear the steady calming beat of your heart come off rhythm, jumping a fraction of a beat faster. It wasn’t fast enough to say you were in danger. It was just fast enough to tell that you were extremely engaged in whatever was occupying your attention. Kon thinks it over. The last time he checked looking over papers- lab reports, especially- was the bane of your existence. He listens again. This time making out the voices coming from the TV. Kon wasn’t awake enough to understand what they were saying. 

 5:47 AM

 Kon groans trying his hardest not to laugh while he stares at his phone. You are an actual psychopath. Who wakes up at 5 AM? Villains that’s who. Did you even sleep? Why do you and Tim hate sleep so much? 

 Stepping into the living room as quietly as he can, he finds you huddled against the right side of the couch far away from the TV, your thick wool comforter draped over your head and shoulders making a fluffy tent. Strands of your messy bed head sticking out and swaying as you rock on your heels. Your stack of papers long since abandoned on the arm rest beside you. Kon can’t help but smile at how adorable you looked, still sleep rumpled and red-nosed from the cold. 

 Eyes glued to the TV, you pull up your knees to your chest revealing your fuzzy Red Robin socks. Kon frowns then makes a mental note to get you some Superboy socks later. You curl deeper into your comforter, easing and pressing into the armrest. All of your apprehension fading and relaxing as the rest of the world melted away. Kon smiles devilishly at your inattention. He tiptoes towards you which was entirely unnecessary because it didn’t matter that Kon was about as stealthy as a disco ball not when all of your attention was directed at the TV. 

 Kon launches himself at you too quickly for you to even react or comment or throw a pillow at him. You shriek as he lands on you, his muscular body squishing you into the couch. You wince hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. You’re not too worried about Tim waking up considering how tired he was. 

 “Morning, gorgeous.” Kon greets, winking and wrapping his arms around your waist. The audacity. You groan attempting to glare at him. He simply gives you a dopey smile. You have to blow out a raspberry to keep yourself from smiling back. You strain your lips into a flatline. The crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes betray you though. The corner of Kon’s mouth twitches, those big baby blues shining even in the dim light. He knows he’s won you over. 

 You’re too petty and sleep-deprived to give in. You roll your eyes at him, lips still wobbling and tingling from the effort of maintaining your unimpressed frown. Still, without resistance,  you shift the comforter and refold yourself to accommodate his intrusive form. Large arms wrap around your waist tighter as he lays his head in your stomach. How he finds this position comfortable for his neck is beyond you but you do appreciate the warmth. Kon’s smile widens as he looks up at you. It looks positively smug. Your nose scrunches up bracing for whatever Kon is about to say. 

 “Aw, baaabe, it looks good on you~” You look down at the oversized Superboy hoodie you’re wearing which was two times bigger than it needed to be as was standard of your hoodies.  You mutter a curse. Kon had been pestering you to wear it. It’s not that you didn’t want to. It’s just that you had a soft spot for the Impulse hoodie Bart got you a few years ago which meant it was your got-to-hoodie despite the fact that it was fraying.  It was in the wash so you decided to give this one a try and honestly, it is really fucking comfy and more importantly warm.  You huff at him, feeling your cheeks color. You glare at him, his dopey smile still plastered on his face. You make the executive decision to ignore him. 

 This decision does not last long. 

 About two minutes into your silent treatment, Kon whines and pouts weaponizing those baby blues. “Aw come on, gorgeous, you can’t stay mad at me forever.” He nuzzles into your stomach tickling your drawing a smile out of you. He grins at you and finally, you let yourself smile back fully. “Asshole.” You grumble.  He knows you can’t resist him when he’s being cute and calling you ‘gorgeous’. That is just plain cheating. Still, you relent. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders, running your hand gently through his dark hair allowing your fingers to tangle in his curls. The arms around you tighten a little pulling you closer to him. 

 Kon doesn’t need a reminder of how absolutely adorable you are but it is very much appreciated. Kon loves looking at you as the soft glowing colors flash across your face highlighting your features and softening them. In the dim light of the room and under the blankets, you press closer to him all the sharp edges of Gotham's alleys stripped away leaving you sleepy-eyed and very huggable. Between you and Tim, you were the one people pointed to when they thought Gothamite but that was the fun of it. He and Tim, they were the only ones who got to see this softer you. The you that you let get enraptured by hobbies and dumb little things. Kon held you close, relishing your presence. This was the version of you they got to keep for themselves and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

 -------

 Tim shifts feeling either side of him vacant.  Tim rolls over, arms searching for either you or Kon as his mind catches up. The warm sunlight brushes over his skin as he rolls over once again, stirring him from his sleep. Tim blinks, eyes adjusting to the morning light. 

 9: 10 AM

 He groans, shifting up and burying his head under the pillows hoping to once again fall asleep. 

 “Oh no no no no!”

 “Shush! Don’t jinx it!”

 Tim’s eye cracks open.  He lifts his head a bit tilting it to find the bedroom door open, your voices filtering in like dust in a sunbeam, pleasant but ultimately not helpful. 

 “I can’t jinx a pre-recorded show, genius!” 

 Tim sighs. Sleep was, inevitably, lost at this point. Tim debates on whether to keep himself under the covers and finally be able to hog the thick blankets. Or he could, possibly, investigate the commotion happening in your shared living room and risk freezing. Sadly, he chose the latter. 

 Blearily, Tim searches the room for a shirt only to find one of Kon’s discarded on the floor. Well, it’s not the first time he’s borrowed one of Kon’s shirts. 

 Tim wasn’t surprised to find you out of bed. After all, the idea of sitting still ate you alive. You were always, always the happiest when you were in motion when your hands were working to make something like some part of you was constantly vying for the chance to be something instead of just being. Tim completely understood the feeling. 

 Kon had once accused you of being a workaholic when in truth at the moment you had been avoiding work by doing one of your side projects. He had also accused both of you of being sleep allergic which is probably true but at least, Tim’s drink (read: poison) of choice was tea and not a cocktail of monster energy drinks and misery. 

 It was odd to find Kon out of bed though.  Kon could laze around in bed for days if you let him, so his being up was worth investigating if only to make sure the apartment didn’t burn down.  

 “Look what you did!”

 “It’s prerecorded, jackass!”

 “You cursed him and gave him a soggy bottom”

 Tim can tell just how long you’ve been glued to the T.V. based on the way your vowels slant to mimic that of the hosts. Tim’s slightly chapped lips curl as he shakes his head at the way you and Kon cock your heads towards the T.V., attention completely captured by what seems to be a cooking show. You held your breaths, waiting for the judge to say something. Kon shifts up, leaning his head against your shoulder.  Your limbs were tangled loosely against each other. It was a rare, lazy sort of affection that never failed to make Tim smile. 

 “Ok, no. That’s just mean.” You huff into Kon’s hair, looking absolutely petulant and cute. Tim works to stop an ‘aaaaawww’ rising from the back of his throat lest you throw a pillow at his head. 

 “Babe, it’s Paul Hollywood. What were you expecting?”

 “Human decency. She worked hard on that.” You whine, genuinely looking upset. 

 Seeing, your reaction Kon relents burrowing himself closer to you for comfort. “True.”

 Tim turned his attention to the T.V.. What he found made his brow shoot up. 

 “Great British Bake Off?” Tim asks, sliding into your left side and placing his head on your shoulder. There is a reason you guys bought an L-shaped couch. Said reason was named Conner Kent who liked laying on top of people. Those people being either of you. Tim snuggles into your side, earning him a kiss on his nose.   His nose scrunches feeling itchy. He lets out a small sneeze into the back of his hand. You blanch at him while Kon snorts, throwing him a box of tissues from the coffee table. 

 “Mornin’, Space Case.” You mumble giving him another kiss, this time on the corner of his lip. Tim blushes,  his face brighter than the sunlight outside your window. Tim is, sadly, incurably adorable.  

 Kon smiles at both of you smugly for what neither of you has any clue. Not until you see what Tim is wearing and not until Tim sees what you’re wearing. You groan and Tim blows out a  breath through his nose while Kon presses his positively glowing smile into your hoodie. He’s not going to shut up about this anytime soon or ever. 

 “Do you two even know anything about baking?” Tim asks, crossing his arms over his chest and smoothly changing the subject. 

 You and Kon share a look. 

 “Nope”

 “Yes”

 “Microwaves and watching this show doesn’t count.”

 “Ooook, fine. I don’t. Buuuuuut considering none of us can-”

 “I can cook.” Tim defends, clipped. You roll your eyes dramatically. Kon smirks, also doubtful. You flicker your eyes to Kon to meet his and with the brief contact, you know you’re on the same page. 

 “Microwaves don’t count, Tim.” Kon shoots back, pulling himself off you so he can show Tim the full extent of his Cheshire smile. You can see Tim drawing his hackles up, so both of you, being the little shits you are, continue to goad him. 

 “You can cook in theory,” You drawl, letting the challenge embed itself into the syllables. Tim cuts you a look. You simply look at him innocently. Tim  knows  that you’re baiting him. He definitely knows this and yet…

 “Fine!”

 “Fine?” 

 “Fine. We’ll even make something from the show!”

 “Even chocolate eclairs?” Kon says a little too eagerly. You were just gonna say meringues but chocolate eclairs sound fantastic.

 Tim throws up his arms and exasperates. “Sure! Why not?”

 You and Kon share a dopey smile, smug and preening as you look at him. Tim groans, placing his head in his hands. He knew this would happen. He knew. You and Kon high five and make a little “yeah!” noise in celebration.

 This will not end well.   

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You twitch your lips staring down at Tim’s phone, deleting and retyping the message for the third time. You weren’t  sure  how to explain this without having Jason falling to the floor laughing. Your eyes stung from the smoke so you decided to just send him your third try. 

 Tim: Hey Jason, theoretically, say your oven caught on fire like via laser beam or something, do you just pour water on it?

 You wait a few minutes, watching the three dots indicating he was typing only for him to stop typing without replying. You make a small noise, which was thankfully lost to the bickering behind you when Jason’s phone number flashed on the screen. You’re always nervous about talking to Tim’s family. Tim had once assured you that you were overthinking it but still. To be fair, it was easier than dealing with Kon’s. Actually, no. No, it wasn’t. Both were intimidating but in very different ways. You do have to say that Jason, scary as he was, was easier to approach than say Bruce. 

 “Baby bird,” Jason says, the edge of a wheeze gripping his throat. Clearly, having just recovered from laughing his guts out. He breathes, hand slamming against what you suspect was either a kitchen countertop or a workbench or both knowing Jason. “Ok, ok, I’m good-” He clears his throat. “Kay, tell me what happened.”

 You flick your eyes toward the fire and your boys who were more or less still bickering, their voices tangling with the crackling of the flames. You’re mildly surprised that neither of them is on fire but you’re not holding your breath. They’ll probably be somehow combust in the next five minutes. You love them but they’re disasters.

 “We were trying to bake- shut up-” Jason does not snort any quieter. “And well, Tim thought-”

 “It was Kon’s idea!”

 “You let me!” Kon defends sounding utterly betrayed. 

 You groan and Jason snickers.  “What do we do?”

 “Have you tried apologizing to it?”

 “Jason, I’m being serious.”

 “So am I. Now, apologize.” You sigh exasperatedly. Waynes are assholes. 

 Tim raises a brow at you and you give him a shrug not really knowing what to tell him. “Apparently, we need to apologize to the oven.” You deadpan, immediately regretting even relaying it. How have you never decked Jason? It wasn’t fear. After all, you’ve decked Batman. Ok, in your defense lack thereof, that one was by accident or moreover reflexive. 

 “Hey Kon”

 “Both of you have to apologize too!”

 “First of all, I was in the bathroom getting towels when you two chucklefucks decided to use laser vision to preheat the oven.”

 You hear Jason fall out of his chair. Distantly, you hear someone calling Jason an idiot but you weren’t too familiar with the voice. You instantly thank yourself for not turning on the camera considering what state you three were in. Kon was covered in chocolate, your hair-as well as your poor phone- was caked in batter, and Tim? Tim was covered in everything but mostly flour which keeps making his nose twitch like a rabbit. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kon’s already taken a few pictures. You yourself have taken a few.  

 “Ok but seriously what do we do?”

 You hear some rustling and a chair squeaking back into place. 

 “No…”

 “First off, did you close the oven?” Your eyes flicker to them. Placing Tim’s phone between your shoulder and ear, you mime the advice. Tim frowns skeptical but Kon kicks the oven closed anyway. 

“Ok, it’s closed now. Should we put water in it?”

 “NO. Have you never put out a kitchen fire before? How do you three eat?”

 “We live in the middle of downtown, what do you think?”

 Jason sighs disbelieving and finally sounding appropriately exasperated. You could see him running his hand over his face.  “Who let you three live together?” This made your lips twitch up. “I dunno. Kon and I just started mooching on Tim and then suddenly we each got a key to the apartment.” It was an oversimplification of events but there was a fire and you had to get at least one joke in. 

 “Do your neighbors have- Wait, don’t you have a Kryptonian clone with freeze breath?”

 You blink and slap your palm against your forehead. The other two seemed to get what you had just remembered and act appropriately with Tim looking defeated and Kon finding the situation hilarious. 

 “Thanks, Jay.” You mutter wanting the Earth to swallow you whole. Esme, your chubby rat, squeaked nuzzling against you as she wormed her way out of your hoodie. She may or may not have been the primary reason for the size of your hoodies. She smiles at the phone, wide-eyed and happy as if she could see Jason. You hear a soft laugh coming from Jason’s end. 

 “Is that Esme?” Your brow ticks up not quite sure how to answer. “Uh yeah.” You answer dumbly, giving Esme little scritches that she leaned into happily making all her little happy noises.     

 “Give her a cuddle for me.” You give Esme a kiss on her nose and she snuggles in reciprocation. Kon pouts face still full of chocolate, “Where’s mine?”

 “You’ll get one once our apartment isn’t about to burn down.”   

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Fresh out of the shower, you plop down next to Tim letting your wet hair flop onto his face and his fuzzy Wonder Girl sweatshirt. Tim huffs at you taking another bite out of the hot fresh-ly ordered stuffed crust pizza. The cheese was still gooey and molten. It made your stomach rumble like nobody’s business. You whine childishly trying to get Tim to hand you one. He looks at you, mouthful of pizza, and grabs one only to hand it to Kon. You gasp at him. You stretch your legs over their laps in protest only to retract them immediately after Kon pokes at your feet a couple of times tickling you. 

 You hide behind Tim, glaring at Kon and sticking your tongue out. Tim, the traitor, moves out of the way letting Kon’s long arms capture you. You shriek almost sounding like Esme as he pulls you in sitting you in his lap. You sigh in defeat as Kon places his chin on your head. You don’t even want to see the triumphant smirks on both their faces. 

 You grab a slice and through the mouthful of cheese and grease, you murmur “We really need to learn how to cook.” Tim hums in agreement, leaning against Kon, aka the cuddliest heater in the world. You lean back into Kon as another signature bake is brought up to the judges. You all watch with bated breaths as you wait for the results. 

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You marvel at the fresh ingredients laid before you and the posh man standing in your kitchen rolling up his sleeves. 

 “Hey, Duckie, are we in trouble?” Kon whispers from behind you. He’s got your back, he said. 

 “Kind of?” Tim bleats, his voice a little high. 

 You snort raising an eyebrow at him hiding your smile behind your hand. “Timmy, what does kind of mean?” 

 “I can hear you.” Alfred deadpans. You and Kon stiffen.  You’re pretty sure even Tim straightens up, probably out of habit. 

 “Do any of you know how to cook?” Alfred asks in the primmest sounding accent you’ve ever heard. 

 “Nope, we live downtown for a reason.” You snark reflexively. Tim glares at you and hisses silently.  You shrink and mutter an apology which Alfred takes graciously.

 “I am assuming you don’t then. Well, it’s lucky that I have a free afternoon.”

 Tim eyes him suspiciously. “What happened to B?”

 “Your father can take care of himself.”

 “You sure?”

You think you see Alfred smile at that. 

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Thanks for reading!

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[cthulhuoflongisland]

Fem Roadrat fic below, they’re in love and they bang:

They tore out of Australia like Mako’s fist through a paper screen.

That had been the easy part. The mad dash in the raft to get out, fueled by adrenaline and the knowledge that if Junkrat kept running her gigantic mouth, Mako would be out of a job quicker than it began. The world deserves this, she tells herself as Junkrat chatters away beside her, contained energy making her muscles shake and her voice come out high and giggling. She can’t let this scrawny slip of a woman get choked out before she gives this godforsaken planet what it’s earned, after all.

Junkrat fills Mako’s silence easily, fingers twitching and eyes wild. She never stops for more than a minute, but forgets frequently what she’s talking about. She has no regret or remorse for what she plans to do, or the destruction she plans to bring. She delights, in fact, at the possibility of it without an ounce of shame. Without tears or hesitation or any reflection at all.

The world deserves this, Mako tells herself.

The world deserves this.

--------------------

The hard part comes much later, shoved into a tiny motel room with one bathroom and a shower so small it wouldn’t fit half of Mako’s body. There’s a single queen-sized bed, and for now Mako’s claimed it, thumbing through a water-stained romance novel as Junkrat tries and fails to relax.

The heart pounding exhilaration has receded, after a lot of heists and daring escapes, and now they’re forced to hole up in places like these between jobs. At first, the novelty of vaguely soft sheets and tiny bottles of shampoo were enough to stave off Junkrat’s complaints, but she’s bent over the desk now, tinkering with her arm and periodically letting out growls of frustration. More accurately, Junkrat is cycling between taking apart and reassembling her prosthetic for twenty minutes at a time and then pacing around the room with a sour look on her face while Mako silently rereads the same paragraph about Elizabeth tearing her corset off to succumb to her base desires. 

The cycle breaks when Junkrat flings herself onto Mako’s belly in a display of aggravation that’s so familiar at this point that Mako doesn’t bother to push her away or tell her to knock it off, or even look up from her book. 

“ Roadie.”

She turns the page.

“ Roadie.”

“ What.”

Junkrat tries to hide the stupid smile she gets on her face every time Mako responds to her, like Mako hasn’t learned to pick up on it. She wriggles to a position where she can look up into the eyeholes of Mako’s mask, which requires her to shove her head under the romance novel Mako has yet to put down and rest her pointy, pointy chin on Mako’s rather expansive breasts.

“ Was just wonderin’ when you’d be finished.”

Mako rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, too used to this game to be truly irritated. “ Won’t be for a while if you keep this up.”

Junkrat squishes her sharp cheek against Mako’s cleavage, like they’re well-worn pillows and not human flesh. Mako’s gotten used to the sharp pinch of her, and lays the book down with a sigh. She lays her massive palm on top of Junkrat’s head, pushing her face into Mako’s chest, which makes her cackle and squirm, like she couldn’t suffocate and die there if Mako willed it. Mako ignores the fluttering feeling in her stomach when Junkrat stills and relaxes, only barely twitching when Mako withdraws her hand.

Those eyes meet hers as Junkrat begins to chatter again, subdued and almost focused. Mako silently strokes a thumb over her jaw as she listens, absorbing nothing, not willing to acknowledge that she could spend forever like this.

---------------------------------------

Junkrat stands there, wreathed in flame as she throws her head back and howls with laughter, like all she could ever want is this destruction. Like it fuels her. Makes her. She’s nothing but fire in the vague shape of a woman, lithe muscles glistening in the warm light. If Mako were a weaker woman, she’d fall to her knees and worship her in awed silence, but instead she looks away and stares at the shattered glass of the suits’ offices, as if she can’t see Junkrat’s reflection in the pieces. 

She loves her then. It burns (God, it burns) just like the heat that radiates off of her, her blonde hair wild and stained with soot, a reminder that Junkrat claws her way into everything and everyone with no regard for anything but herself. Mako savors it as she fires bullets into the back of another snivelling billionaire, ready to let it cave her chest in. They all deserve what they get, and Mako meets their empty pleas with the pull of her trigger. The ones that charge her find their skulls crushed and their lips silent, and it’s only when all of them are dead that she realizes her lungs are rattling and she’s bent over a broken desk. 

Junkrat’s fingers are at her back, scorching hot, and suddenly her mask is filled with gas. Mako gasps it in and feels her lungs clear with every breath, Junkrat’s metal hand pressing the canister to its opening until it clatters to the floor, empty. Her smile is wild and crooked as it ever was, and God, she has no idea. No idea what Mako would do to kiss that smile, to keep it on her lips all the time. 

Mako can’t pretend anymore after that, but stays silent. 

There are some things she doesn’t deserve.

-----------------------------------

In another motel, a coast away somewhere on Long Island, Mako lays next to Rat on a bed too small for either of them. It’s four in the morning, too dark to see and too cold for summer, but Junkrat has been talking for hours now, mostly to herself. Mako lets her, knowing that she’ll eventually trick her brain into shutting off, and quietly enjoys the drone of Junkrat’s mismatched ideas. She’s half-way to dozing when Junkrat turns to face her, groping for her arm in the dark.

“ You listenin’ to me?”

Mako grunts, not in the mood to speak.

“ I said, what was it like? B’fore the omnium?”

Mako grits her teeth, letting out a long breath. She hates this question. It always comes back to this, and no amount of silence can deter Junkrat from asking.

“ Less fucked up. Bugs were a lot smaller.”

She can practically feel Junkrat’s eyes roll, and she slaps the mattress in frustration. “ Fuck’s sake, you really weren’t listenin’, were you? I was talkin’ about pickin’ up girls. Used to be easier, didn’t it?”

Mako really must have been half-asleep, because she has no fucking idea how Junkrat stumbled onto this subject. She’s suddenly wide awake, not sure if she’s about to give herself away.

“...Some ways. Depends on why you were pickin’ ‘em up.” Fucking got a lot easier in the wasteland. There were no more nice bars for Mako to sit at, making women blush and taking their numbers home. It all became physical, rougher and faster and leaving Mako wanting for something deeper.

Rat shifts, incentivized by such a long response. “ Yeah? Bet you were good at it.” Her voice lowers a little, and her hand stays on Mako’s bicep. “ Ladies love the big quiet types. Ain’t ever had much luck, m’self, squawkin’ ‘n spillin’ my drinks.”

Mako sits up, her stomach turning at where this is headed. She can’t bring herself to shrug Rat off and go back to sleep, though. Her heart pounds against her rib-cage, and it’s as if she’s found something she’d thought had burned away years ago. Her mouth opens, and she can’t stop the words from spilling out of her throat. 

“ You’re young. Pretty. Wait a while longer and someone’ll snatch you up.”

Junkrat jerks away, like Mako’s reached out and shocked her. A truck passes by and the light that blares through the window lets Mako see her face, chapped lips parted in surprise and those big, amber eyes wider than Mako’s ever seen them. She wonders if Rat can see her, too, and if the brief flash of light makes her look half as perfect.

“ Since when d’you think I’m pretty?”

Mako pauses, unsure of how to answer, but Rat snatches up the silence and fills it herself. 

“ Are you tellin’ me we coulda been fucking this whole time an’ here I was thinkin’ you didn’t like me?”

“Jesus,” says Mako, rubbing a hand over her face, “ I said you’re pretty. I didn’t say I wanted to fist you.”

“ But that’s what you meant!” Rat is suddenly climbing on top of her, jittery and overjoyed. “ I know I ain’t pretty. That’s just what people say when they wanna get in my pants.”

Mako’s heart sinks, her face softening as she strokes the hair out of Rat’s face and behind her ear. “ Rat.” Her hand runs down to trace over Junkrat’s features, worshipping them in the dark instead of just fantasizing about it. “ You’re pretty.”

Rat slows, awed by Mako’s admiration. She lays flat against Mako’s body, so their faces are inches apart, her breath tickling Mako’s cheek. Mako wonders how many stupid men have called her ugly, told her she was too bony, too tall, too strange to be attractive. Mako would kill all of them with her bare hands if she could find them.

“ I’m not saying that to fuck you. I just want you to know.”

Rat nuzzles against Mako’s palm like an affectionate cat, and then steals a kiss from Mako’s scarred, unsuspecting lips. Her nose pokes Mako’s cheek, and her back arches when Mako’s hands, huge and strong and warm, wrap around her tiny waist. Mako feels herself fall into that heat almost instinctively, her surprise melting away and giving rise to slow pleasure.

“ I think yer pretty, too,” says Rat as she pulls away with a smack, filling Mako’s silence for the millionth time, “ Real pretty. You make me wetter ‘n a hurricane.”

Mako snorts, but doesn’t take her hands off Rat, who melds against her like liquid metal. “ Romantic.” She kneads Rat’s tense shoulders, and lays her chin against the top of her head. Rat never could beat around the bush.

“ I’m tryin’ my best!” Rat squishes Mako’s cheeks together, her metal leg catching the sheets as she drags herself up Mako’s body, hips already squirming. “ ‘s kinda hard to set the mood when I know you’d fuck me now!”

“ Never said that.” Mako’s hands, reaching down to squeeze Rat’s hips and feel her shiver, betray her cool tone. She’s already restraining herself, hungry but tender. She’d never forgive herself if she cracked Rat’s bones or left bruises just because she’s been so starved. She deserves to be savored. Treasured. 

Loved.

Rat starts to kiss up her neck, and Mako moans, feeling that wicked smile in the hollow of her shoulder. She feels up Rat’s flat ass, massaging those bony hips that never stop jerking against her, biting her lip at the sensation of a woman’s feverish flesh finally under her fingers again.

Rat wriggles out of the torn tank-top she throws on every cold night, and God, dear God, Mako can’t help but slide her hands up to Rat’s soft, bite-sized tits, pinching them just to hear her gasp. She wants to bury her face in them, feel Rat’s mechanical fingers tangle in her hair as she covers her chest in dark hickies. The smell of her, gunpowder and smoke and faint sweat, is enough to drive Mako wild with long suppressed desire, her head swimming as she tries to make Rat out in the dark.

Rat has no time for such romantic gestures. She flicks the table lamp on after a few times fumbling in the dark, panting, “ Lemme see you, Hoggy, c’mon, lemme see-,” and delights when Mako is suddenly bathed in warm light, maskless and flushed and letting out low, deep groans as Rat grinds against her crotch. Mako’s chest swells with pride when Rat licks her lips, stripping down to nothing and lifting Mako’s worn t-shirt in such a frenzy it’s as if she can’t help herself. She leans down to roll a nipple between her teeth, and Mako holds her there, huffing through her nose.

“ Rat,” she wheezes, “ Slower.”

She pulls Rat’s head out of the cleavage she’s created by pushing Mako’s breasts together and kisses her again, overtaking her thin lips to feel her melt and shiver, both hands grabbing at Mako’s loose hair. Mako squeezes her hips, her ass, her thighs, never hard enough to bruise, and listens to her muffled moans as Rat desperately slides her tongue into Mako’s mouth, tracing her sharp incisors. She vibrates with impatience, pawing at Mako’s covered crotch as she’s held there before she jerks her head out of Mako’s hands.

“ Fuck,” she breathes, still shaking as she presses her forehead to Mako’s, “ please, Hog. I can’t wait no more. I can’t, I can’t, please please please-”

Mako can’t deny her what she wants. What she deserves. She lifts her by the waist effortlessly and sets her spread thighs down on her face, not unlike she’s imagined thousands of times. Rat cries out for her tongue, which pushes into her slick, warm pussy without hesitation and pistons in and out of her until Rat shrieks so loud someone pounds their fist against the wall in the room next to theirs. She lets out high, begging whimpers when Mako sucks her clit between her thick, practiced lips, her thighs pillowing Mako’s head even as she cums, tongue lolling out as her voice chokes in her throat. 

Mako feels the familiar burn deep in her gut as Rat slides back down to kiss her cheeks, her wide nose, every scratch and mole and acne scar. She rubs her cheek to Mako’s like it doesn’t feel like sandpaper, so lovely in her nakedness that Mako can barely stand it. She yanks Mako’s pajama pants down low enough to stick the fingers of her flesh hand inside, still kissing her and murmuring slurred praise. She furiously rubs Mako’s clit, engorged with arousal as two long fingers slip inside her without any struggle at all. She moans for Rat as she’s fingerfucked by shaking hands, which pound the spot inside her that makes her roll her hips and kiss Rat’s pleased grin until she clamps around her and bites her long, tanned neck to keep from having the cranky heterosexual yuppie next door report them to the manager.

She lays there half exposed as she catches her breath, her arms wrapped around Rat’s waist as the lanky little minx snuggles against her, grinning deliriously. She’s so tender when she kisses Rat’s forehead that she feels her heart clench inside her chest, gently rubbing circles into Rat’s naked ass as her muscles relax. 

Rat in turn feels Mako’s biceps up with lazy joy, giggling in between pants.

“ Ain’t never thought that was gonna happen outside my head.”

Mako grunts in agreement, and Rat begins to babble again. She passes out to the sweet cacophony with the light still glowing beside them, and doesn’t wake up until noon the next day.

----------------------------------

Things don’t change as much as Mako worries. Rat is no less fierce in battle, not regretful or ashamed of what they do every night they can manage. She holds Mako’s arm tighter now, calls her by her real name when they’re alone, screams at anyone who openly looks Mako up and down to sneer at her to keep their eyes off her girlfriend. She is just as rough and jagged as always, and Mako is so proud. So grateful to have this gleaming piece of desert glass stuck to her side, stealing her lingerie and black jewelry from the malls they loot. They murder the people who’ve earned their death, steal what they want, and have their wanted posters hung up in teenage girls’ bedrooms. 

They leave the States to hide in some obscure Sicilian village where no one could understand their accents even if they were speaking the right dialect. People give them a wide berth when they sit together in the bar there, holding hands as casually as Rat orders Mako the most expensive cocktail on the indecipherable menu by jabbing at the picture and demanding it in some of the most atrocious Italian ever spoken.

When it comes, pink and sweet as Mako used to enjoy all the time, Rat slaps her on the back with a wide grin.

“ Go on, mate! You deserve it!”

“ Yeah,” Mako tips her mask up and smiles, “ Guess I do.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Wizard of Oz Queen x pre-teen reader Chap. 4; Meeting the sweet Tinman

*Author’s note*

With the meeting of the Scarecrow now complete, we move onto the next person that came on, the sweet and lovable Tinman. Secretly I’ll admit this was a no-brainer (Haha see what I did there? No Brainer. Scarecrow has no brains. No? Okay yeah that was bad forget it) for me on who I wanted to be the Tinman out of the boys of Queen.  So I hope you all like this casting choice for the Tinman as much as I did.  

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@psychosupernatural​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queensdivas​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@platawnic​

@kairosfreddie​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

____________________________________________________________

When morning finally arrived, I woke up to something tickling my nose.  I twitched in my sleep but didn’t really respond to it.  I felt it happen again, this time I felt it stroke across my cheek. I moaned tiredly and turned away from it but the next thing I knew, I felt it stroke down my neck and even felt slow shapes being drawn on my neck.

Being that my neck is my most ticklish spot, I giggled and opened my eyes to see Scarecrow smiling down at me, holding a piece of hay in his hand.

“Good morning (y/n).”

“Scarecrow what was all that about?” I asked him as I rubbed my neck trying to rid of the ticklish feeling.

“Sorry I couldn’t resist. Has anyone told you that you look adorable when you sleep? You look like a tiny….little chipmunk.” I softly laughed as I sat up and stretched my arms out.

“My uncle Henry used to always call me that when I was little.”

“And the name suits you. Cause chipmunks are cute, tiny and sweet. Just like you.” he teased as he teased the tip of my nose with the strand of hay he still had in his hands.  I brushed it away as he chuckled at me but soon his chuckles turned to laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’ve got some hay in your hair.” He said through his laughter.  I felt around my hair and soon enough I pulled out on strand of hay.

“Don’t laugh it’s not that funny.” I laughed along with him.

“No, no, no. Of course not. Just—never did I think you were secretly a scarecrow too.” He laughed as he scooted closer to me. “Here, let me help you.” he then carefully began to pick off any strand of hay that had gotten tangled up in my hair.

Most of it was pretty easy to get out but some were twisted so deep into my hair that it hurt trying to get them out.  Any sign of discomfort or soft whine of pain I made, he apologized before finally getting the last strand of hay out of my hair.

“There all done.”

“Thanks scarecrow.”

“No problem, best to always get hay out as soon as possible otherwise it just becomes a mess. But if I’m being honest I would’ve left them in. It made your cuteness level just go even higher.” I blushed and said.

“So shall we continue to Oz?”

“Yes, let’s.” he quickly grabbed the pile of hay and stuffed it back into his shirt and we proceeded to continue down the yellow brick road.

It must’ve been another hour or so till we finally reached some sort of apple tree farm.  All around us were apple trees with the most richest and bright red apples. My stomach grumbled loudly and I giggled softly.

“Guess I’m hungrier than I thought I would be.”

“Well there’s hundreds of apples to choose from. Pick whichever one calls out to you.” said scarecrow.  We stepped off the road and onto the farm soil and I went up to the closest tree and picked off the first apple.  Suddenly the tree grabbed my hand just before I could take a bite and slapped my hand.

“Ow!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!” a deep, raspy voice snarled at me.

“We’ve come such a long way and I was hungry and…..wait. Did you just speak?” the tree soon moved again and spoke out in snarky tone.

“She was hungry!”

“She was hungry!” the tree behind me spoke proclaiming loudly for all the other trees to arose and wake.

“Well little miss Hungry. How would you like it if someone came along and picked something off of you!?” the tree in front of me spoke again.

“Hey lay off alright!? She’s only a kid and she didn’t know!” Scarecrow soon came up behind me and defended me.

“It’s okay scarecrow. I—forgot that I’m not in Wales anymore.”

“But still that gave it no right to hit you. Come along (y/n), you don’t want any of these apples.”

“You implying there’s something wrong with my apples?” the tree snapped at Roger.

“Oh no. Just the fact she’s looking at a rotten apple tree.”

“Oh that’s it!” Soon the tree grabbed a hold of me. I screamed but just before I could be picked up, scarecrow grabbed a hold of me and pushed me back towards the road while he distracted the tree.

Using his nimble movement, he managed to get away from the tree and he stood beside me once again.

“You wanna see how to get these guy’s apples?” he whispered to me.  Before I could even respond, he then proceeded to tease and mock the trees who then began to throw their apples at scarecrow.  He skillfully dodged each apple until one hit him in the face and he went falling backwards.

“Scarecrow, you okay?”

“Fine, fine. But see, that done it. Help yourself to as many as you like.” I shook my head at him.

“You’re insane, do you know that?” he shrugged with a boyish grin then the two of us went around to gather the apples.

As I came out of a few bushes and grabbed an apple, I saw the most peculiar thing.  A tin foot.  I lightly knocked on it and slowly looked up to see a tin leg attached to it.  I banged on the shin until I finally saw that this was actually a man, a tin man!

“Scarecrow. Scarecrow come here!” he quickly came over to me and he quickly said.

“What is it? You alright?”

“Yes I’m fine. Look at this. I found a tin man.” He came over on the other side of the tinman.

“Wow. I’ve—heard about these tinmen but never did I think I would see one in real life.”

“Are—they aren’t dangerous are they?” I asked worriedly.

“Some but not all. From people who have passed by my fields some have said that one of them in particular is only dangerous when someone tries to harm the animals of the forest.” I turned towards the tinman and got a better look at him.

He was rusted right in his spot wielding an axe in his right hand.  He sure was tall that’s for sure, and lean.  I was also perplexed by this tinman’s hairstyle.  It was…..curly. Like really curly and poofy, kinda like a poodle’s fur.  He was also covered in leaves and his arm was wrapped around with vines and weeds.

Suddenly we heard a muffled voice crying out. Both scarecrow and I looked around trying to see just where it came from till we both looked at the tinman.

“Did you say something?” he muffled out two words. I leaned closer and he muffled out the two words again. “He said oilcan.”

“Oilcan what?” asked scarecrow.  I looked around until right there on a nearby tree stump I found the oilcan.

“Here!” I raced over and grabbed it and came back to his side. “Where do you want it first?” he muffled out what sounded like ‘my mwomh.’

“He said his mouth.” Scarecrow said.  I handed him the oilcan and he proceeded to oil both sides of the tin man’s mouth.  With a loud rusted squeak, the tinman began to try and move his mouth around. He slowly began to open his mouth and speak.

“Mah—mah—mmah. My goddess, I can finally talk again. Ohh. Oil my arms please, oil my elbows.” Scarecrow handed me the oil can and I oiled up the tinman’s right elbow before getting his bicep and forearm area.

I passed the oilcan back to scarecrow and as he oiled up the other arm, I helped the tinman lower his arm back down.  He let out a groan and I asked him.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Oh no my dear. That felt so good, I’ve held that axe up for ages.”

“How did you get like this?” I asked him as I shook his arm up trying to loosen it up even more.

“Well about a year ago; I was trying to stop some poachers from hunting a mother badger and her pups, and right before I could say a word to them, it began to rain. Been rusted in this spot ever since.” I looked just ahead and soon enough I saw what looked like a badger’s den.

“So you’re the famed tinman guardian of the forest animals?” Scarecrow asked.

“In the flesh. Well figuratively speaking” The tinman responded. “Oil my neck please.” Scarecrow proceeded to oil up the tinman’s neck while I worked on shaking his other arm.

“Well don’t you worry. Soon you’ll be as perfect as ever Mr. Tinman.”

“Thank you my friend.” He muttered quietly before speaking out loud to me. “Perfect? Bang on my chest if you think that.” I looked at him hesitantly but he reassured me, “Go on, bang on it and have a listen.” I banged on his chest and soon heard the echoing sounds of the bangs gradually get lower and lower.

“Wow, what a beat!”

“It’s empty.” The tinman stated solemnly. “The tin’s man who built me forgot to make me a heart.”

“No heart?” Scarecrow and I both asked.

“No heart.” The tinman solemnly as he shook his head.  “I mean he gave me a brain, a voice, but he died before he could complete my heart.”

“I’m so sorry.” I said to him.

“It’s alright my dear. It wasn’t your fault, he was very old and sadly getting sicker as the days went by. As selfish as it is for me to wish that he had completed my heart before he died, at least he’s no longer in pain.” I smiled softly at him.

For a tinman without a heart, he sure showed some great signs of compassion.

“Hey (y/n), can I talk to you for a second?” Scarecrow asked me.  I nodded and said to the tinman.

“We’ll be right back, okay?” he nodded to me and I followed Scarecrow who walked a few yards away from the tinman so that he couldn’t hear us.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“What do you say if we add one more person to our little adventure? I mean if the Great Oz could get you home and me a brain, surely he should be able to get tinman there a heart.”

“What a wonderful idea! Let’s see if he’ll want to come with us.”

We quickly raced back towards the tinman who was now oiling up his legs and knees.

“Tinman.” He looked up at us. “We were talking and we figured what if you came with us to the Emerald city to see the Wizard of Oz and ask him for a heart?”

“You want me to come along with you to the Emerald city?” he said in shock.  We nodded. “Oh that’d be wonderful but…..”

“But what?” asked scarecrow.

“But—suppose the Great Oz wouldn’t give me a heart when we got there?”

“He has to. I mean we’ve already come such a long way.”

“YOU CALL THAT LONG!?!?” a familiar haunting voice exclaimed.  We looked up and right there on top of the abandoned house was the Wicked Warlock of the West.  “That was hardly even a miles walk! So, helping the lass out are you my fine gentlemen?”

“Why don’t you go pick on somebody your own size you witless worm!” Scarecrow cried out as he stood defensively in front of me.

“I’m with scarecrow on that. You’ve gone a new low Warlock and threatening children is one rule I will not tolerate in my forest. Now leave!” the tinman spoke up as he stood beside scarecrow.

Wow.  These two guys whom I’ve known one for barely a full day and the other just a few minutes were willing to protect me without a second thought.

The wicked warlock growled before saying.

“Fine. I know of your laws tinman, but you won’t stay in your part of the forest forever. And once you’re in the clear I’ll use you for a mattress,” he said pointing to scarecrow. “And you, I’ll use you for a beehive.” He turned around but before he left, he turned around with an evil look in his eyes. “Oh and scarecrow, think fast!” suddenly flying right towards him and landing right at his feet was a ball of fire.

Scarecrow let out a terrified scream as he fell backwards.  I quickly dragged him away from the flames, while the tinman to stomp down on the fire to diminish it.  All the while the warlock was laughing manically before disappearing in red smoke once again.

Both scarecrow and tinman stood beside me and that’s when scarecrow said.

“Don’t you worry (y/n), I’ll see that you get to the Great Oz, whether if I get a brain or not. Stuff a mattress with me will he? I’d like to make a skin rug out of him!”

“As well I. I’ll see that you get to the Wizard whether I get a heart or not. Beehive huh? Bah! Let him try to make a beehive out of me.” The tinman said.  I smiled at both of these guys and I said.

“Oh, you guys are the best friends a girl could ever ask. It’s strange though but it feels like I’ve met you both before. But I—I couldn’t have, could I?”

“I would say no. I mean after all you weren’t there when the farmer had me sewn and stitched together, right?” I shook my head no.

“And I’ve been standing over there rusting for the longest time, there’s no way you could’ve been there.” I nodded in agreement.

“Still I-I wish I could remember. But I guess it doesn’t matter. We know each other now, right?”

“Right.” They both smiled warmly with a smile.

“To Oz?” said scarecrow as he held his arm out..

“To Oz” replied the Tinman as he held his arm out.

“To Oz!” I answered as I looped my arms through theirs and we went along our merry way deeper into the forest.

[honestandsincere]

viva las vegas

Ethan can’t feel his right arm. It tingles with the cool sensation of numbness, but it feels right. Her head rests in the crook of his elbow, her hair tickling his sun-kissed skin. He can feel the softness of her breath along with the almost inconceivable touch of her lips as they graze his forearm with each exhale. His entire side is aching, stiff against the carpeted floor. He has a pillow so his neck hasn’t cramped up completely, but the lack of mattress has taken its toll. They’re staying with a friend y/n made in college, her name is Natalie, whilst they’re in Vegas. He’d suggested a hotel, his mind conjuring images of silk sheets, room service, and a balcony overlooking an excessively flamboyant fountain. But, she’d told him that wasn’t an experience; having everything at your beck and call isn’t properly living, y/n wants to live. So they’re here, in the suburbs, sprawled out on Natalie’s Persian rug and covered by a blanket she’d handed them from her laundry cupboard. Ethan has a leg pressed between y/n’s, the curve of her spine flush against his abdomen. This position is gorgeously familiar, he’s held her innumerable times in his life, except this time it feels so much more intimate. He’s only thinking about now, not what’s going to happen within the following minutes or hours. Lying on the floor, his body hurting in a sweet way, is the first time he’s felt truly relaxed in months.

Y/n shifts, twisting around in his grasp, screwing her eyes shut as if willing sleep to last a few moments longer. Ethan smiles at her, watching her nose that’s dusted with freckles wrinkle a little. She whines and throws her leg over his hip and he automatically reaches down to brush the smooth skin of her thigh. “Morning,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she burrows her face into his neck, “Sleep well?” “The best,” y/n murmurs, “considering we’re on the floor.” Ethan chuckles and pulls his arm from behind her head, fearing it may actually fall off if he isn’t careful. He props up his chin on his palm and watches as she nestles into him, inhaling the remnants of his cologne. She’s so peaceful, so comforted in his embrace and he feels so at home holding her. Having her to hold is something that cannot be taken for granted or overlooked.

Light filters through Natalie’s blinds as they skim the dusty windowsills of her living room. Ethan guesses that it could be around eight in the morning or maybe even noon, he can’t seem to tell the time around his girl. Moments bleed into memories that are so vivid that weeks feel like days and hours are mere seconds. Spending the day on y/n’s friend’s floor feels like a twisted kind of bliss, but Ethan knows y/n came to Vegas to play. Life in Los Angeles had become stagnant. She's finished her classes and is as close to free as she can get for the summer. Ethan's work commitments seemed to consume every facet of his life, work becoming the only focal point of his existence. They needed to escape the confines of the city that refuses to sleep, take a trip somewhere without a fully conceived concept of where they might end up. Several rollings of dice and blinded stabs of drawing pins onto a map later, they settled on Sin City. Ethan thinks about Grayson at home, imagining him waking up to the hum of his phone's alarm, reveling in the fact he has the house to himself. Grayson's abandoned work for a little too, focusing on some DIY projects he'd intended to pursue months ago but had been discarded due to professional responsibilities. Ethan needs his brother like he needs his right arm, but he can’t help but think that his twin is relieved to be alleviated of y/n and Ethan’s relentless displays of love. The younger twin can’t seem to catch a break living in close quarters with the non-fictitious version of Romeo and Juliet, minus the tragic ending at least. Y/n presses a kiss to the base of Ethan’s neck. “What do you wanna do today?” he asks her. “What is there to do in Vegas?” He pauses for a second, moving his hand to her hair and weaving his fingers through its strands. With a gentle tug, he pulls y/n’s gaze to his so she can see his creased brow in its expression of faux-pondering. “We could go gamble all of Grayson and I’s savings in a casino, take a coach trip to the Hoover Dam-” “San Andreas,” she says with wide eyes and a small shake of her head. “Excuse me?” “You know the movie with The Rock about that huge earthquake and the dam explodes?” “Oh right, fair enough. We could try and sneak into St Mark’s square at the Venetian? Steal a gondola or something?” There’s a pause and Ethan watches as her eyes dart around his face. She absorbs his every detail; from the burgeoning scruff adorning his jaw to his unjustly long eyelashes that graze his browbone. He pouts his lips - an invitation. She places a chaste kiss on his mouth and he hums in contentment. “We could get married?” y/n shrugs, still watching him intently. She feels Ethan tense a little, his jaw slackening in surprise, “Only if you want to, of course.” Ethan’s mind begins to twist into a kaleidoscope of incomprehensible thoughts. This girl is the love of his life, he may be young but he knows this. There isn’t a being or thing or concept that could make him feel the way y/n does. She is unparalleled in the way she loves him, so fiercely and wholeheartedly and not once has he ever doubted that she’d ever stop loving him. Ethan loves her with such an intense passion it’s impossible to verbalize, sometimes even transcending his own comprehension, verging on unfathomable. He burns with the thought of y/n, a deep feeling settled in the pit of his stomach telling him that nothing has ever been more right. Nobody knows him the way she does, it’s different to the way Grayson knows him. Y/n reaches parts of his mind that Ethan has been too scared to visit himself. She brings out the best in him, as cliche and trivial as it sounds. Nobody can make chai like her, with enough honey to leave a sweet syrupy thickness at the bottom of his mug. Nothing will make him laugh the way she does when she trips over her own feet or makes a snide remark that isn’t intended to be funny.

Spending the rest of his life with her feels like a logical progression of their relationship. Ethan is certain that she’ll be the best mother; he’s conjured an image of her, round-bellied and glowing despite her swollen ankles. He sees her cradling a tiny creation in her arms, whispering lullabies in the early hours, her face illuminated by a tiny nightlight. Quiet nights with her, sipping tea and flipping through his mother’s collection of film photographs, spotting resemblances in chubby baby Ethan and their own babies. He wants to travel with her first, before they settle down properly, take her around Europe so she can visit every gallery she’s ever wanted to. Ethan aches to watch her bask in Italian sun or dust Bondi sand from the soles of her feet. Everything that life could offer him, he wants to experience it with y/n.

“Marriage?” he asks her, shifting his hand to her jaw so he can press the pad of his thumb onto her plush bottom lip. Y/n nods her head, “When in Vegas,” she speaks against his finger. “Yeah ok,” Ethan whispers. “Really?” “Do you not want to now that I want to?” he jokes. “No! God, Ethan I’d marry you in a heartbeat. I just didn’t think you’d wanna go through with it.” “Why not?” “I don’t know, people aren’t here with us, y’know like people that’d actually wanna come to our actual wedding. I swear Grayson’s written his best man speech already.” Ethan laughs because this is probably true. He pulls her closer to him, wanting them to be inseparable. Of course, he’s worried about Grayson too. They’ve done everything in tandem since the day they were brought onto this Earth, but he knows his brother will understand. Grayson can appreciate the unadulterated spontaneity that pulses through Ethan’s veins, he feels it himself sometimes. He’ll know that if Ethan is going to dedicate his life to any other human being, he’s not making a mistake. Nothing about y/n could ever be deemed a mistake. “It’s just a piece of paper, E,” her hands slip into his hair, dexterous fingers twisting tresses. “Yeah but it says I love you. Properly. I want to do this,” he says, kissing her nose.

“Ask me then.” “What?” “Propose.” “Oh shit!” Ethan untangles their limbs and moves to sit cross-legged on the floor. His bare chest is littered with goosebumps as the covers slip from his frame. Y/n joins him, mimicking the position he takes and smiling at their childlike innocence. Their youth. He takes each hand of hers into his, linking their fingers. “I don’t really know what to say, I mean ideally I’d have time to plan some kind of elaborate speech or something about my undying love for you. But, I don’t so I’ll improvise,” he takes a deep breath and looks at her. He studies the way her hair is disheveled and her lips slightly chapped, “I’m so in love with you, y/n. You’re so in love with me. Let’s get married, I love you and I wanna stay with you. So if you wanna be my wife, I’m down if you’re down?” Y/n grins and nods her head, “As if I’d say no. I’m down.” ---- A few hours later, they’re stumbling out of Natalie’s house having left her a note of thanks and the bottle of wine they’d bought for her the night before. Ethan can’t take his hands off her, consistently stealing glances at her as they drive into the city, a huge grin plastered over his face. Y/n’s on his phone, Googling the nearest thrift store. They find one eventually, after a series of wrong-turnings and frustrated giggles. She clambers from the Jeep excitedly jumping from one foot to another. Ethan wraps an arm over her shoulders, tugging her to his side and kissing her temple. “You get a dress and I’ll go grab some rings, ok?” She bites her bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile and nods before heading to the first aisle of the store. She settles on something whimsical, wanting to feel like some kind of ethereal goddess. It’s a cream colored tea dress, decorated with lace over its bodice. Y/n knows that it doesn’t really fit her, it’s a bit too loose in some areas and too tight in others, but she loves it. If she’s going to marry Ethan in anything, she’s going to look like the pixie dream-girl she’s always wanted to be. Her fiance is on the hunt for rings, studying the selection of costume jewelry on show in the glass display cabinets. He asks one of the older ladies working there to open it up for him, to let him see them and feel their weight in his palm. None of them are what he’d like to give y/n, nothing like the hefty gem he’d imagined that would grace her left hand. He finds two simple silver bands that look like they’d fit their fingers, one considerably wider than the other. They meet at the entrance of the stoor, y/n carrying a paper bag in her arms and Ethan keeping his hand in the front pocket of his dress pants to ensure he doesn’t lose the very symbol of their union. “Ready?” he quirks a brow at her. “Always.” “Let’s go make you a Dolan.” The chapel they choose is arguably the trashiest of the selection available to them. Y/n said she likes it that way, that they’re doing the Vegas wedding the way it should be done. Neither of them have told anyone, not a text has been sent. It has to be just them, no outside world, just them. Ethan fills in the necessary paperwork at the front desk, gushing about his girl to the secretary, whilst y/n is in the bathroom changing into her thrifted wedding dress. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he chuckles. “It’s not too late to drop out, kid,” the older woman that smells of cigarettes and perfume croaks. Ethan shakes his head adamantly, “Not a chance.” He signs his name along a dotted line and waits for y/n to do the same. He wonders if this will be the last time she’ll ever use her last name before it’s changed to his. She emerges from the cotton candy-colored door, a sheepish smile on her face. Ethan looks upwards at the sound of her entering the lobby and he can’t fight the pounding in his chest. Y/n’s gorgeous, always has been and always will be, but there’s something about her now that knocks the air from his lungs. She twirls for him, letting the skirt of her dress dance around her thighs and a perfect trill of her laugh leaves her lips. “Like it?” “Love it. Love you,” he can’t seem to formulate any other words. “Let’s get married, baby!” ---- “Let me get this straight, you have a wife?” “Yeah Gray, we got married.” “Like officially?” “It’s all legal, bro.” “Not a prank.” “He wishes it was, G!” y/n interrupts as she focuses her eyes on the road ahead of her. They’re leaving Vegas, headed God knows where, happily married. The service was quick and admittedly underwhelming, deprived of the Elvis impersonator y/n was so looking forward to. “We just wanted to let you know, Gray,” Ethan says, fiddling with the ring that rests so prettily on y/n hand that’s resting in his. “Yeah, just in case you freaked,” y/n laughs, “I don’t wanna come in between you guys.” “Jesus y/n, I’m so happy for you! Like so happy,” he sighs over the phone, “I haven’t lost a brother, I’ve gained a sister.”

Ethan is beaming, every ounce of his being buzzing with acute happiness. He was blind before he met her, stumbling through life. He’s still stumbling, but it’s with her now, falling into her and falling for her. They’re so infatuated with one another. Life feels good. Love feels better.

----

Here ya go angels! Admittedly, this is a little rushed and a bit all over the place but I wanted to get something up for you guys! Hope you enjoyed it! Lots and lots of love, -K x

[clogwearingspacepoodle]

It’s Late - Part Four [Brian May x Reader]

[Part One]  [Part Two] [Part Three]

Summary: Brian and Y/N have a complicated relationship, which has spanned years now. They both have guilt, jealousy and other emotions constantly toying with them, but above all things, they’re in love. This is the story of how it all came together and then, how it all fell apart.

Warnings: SMUT! right at the beginning ya’ll. Infidelity. Angst. 

Author’s Note: I made it guys. finally. so sorry for the giant hiatus, but thank you for sticking with me. PLEASE let me know what you think of this chapter it’s like my first attempt at smut, I normally stick to angst so feedback would be so so wonderful. Thank you for reading! 

1977 - New York

You woke up slowly, gently, as the light streamed through the curtains that were lazily pulled to in the hotel room. You cursed the fact that they weren’t closed better the night before and tried to bury your face into the pillow to escape the bright streaks of light. Slowly your senses came back to you, bits and pieces of information starting to connect in your mind.

You saw Queen in concert and you met Brian May and followed him to a party? Did that really happen? For some reason, all details of the party were blurry. All you could see in your mind’s eye were snapshots of Brian and small details tied to them. He placed his hand on the small of your back as he walked you into the party. You remembered how nervous his eyes looked when people started to notice who he was, cheesy fake smiles and looks of adoration being shot his way. He leaned into you as he introduced you to Roger, John and Freddie politely, saying your name so softly that all three band members had to lean in closer and ask him to repeat himself.

He held your hand as he pulled you down onto the couch next to him, the alcohol making his once shy and discreet movements now a bit more blatant and carefree. He had whispered in your ear softly, his smooth accent making your stomach flutter.  He asked you to come back to his hotel room. You had gotten drunk with him. You kissed him. He told you he was married. He asked you to stay and you stayed.

But how long was that invitation for? You weren’t sure how to act this morning, if you should get dressed and leave, like the one night stand you were expecting, or if you were supposed to think about your interactions from last night. Drunk and in a post orgasmic bliss, you were sure he had begged you not to leave his side.

The shrill chime of the telephone ringing next to the bed pulled you out of your thoughts and made you jump. You peeked out from under the pillow sneakily, not wanting to give away the fact that you were awake just yet.

In bed next to you, long arms curled around your waist, head pressed against your shoulder, Brian stirred at the ring of the phone. His eyebrows furrowed and his expression turned into one of annoyance as the ringing continued. His grip on your waist tightened as he tried to hold on to the moment and to sleep. He was just about to release you when the ringing finally subsided, a sigh of relief falling from his lips.

“Jesus…” he breathed, eyes still shut tightly.

You couldn’t help but smile at his frustrated expression and wonder how he still managed to look gorgeous when just woken up and annoyed.  You snuggled in closer to him. If this was it,  you wanted one last chance to try and memorize the way he smelled, the way he felt, the texture of his soft curls.

Brian noticed and pulled you into him immediately, his warm skin flush against your own, his face now nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Your cheeks heated up as your hand clutching the blanket tightened.

Brian placed a soft gentle kiss on your neck, lingering for almost too long. You sighed and pressed your bare backside back against him  - and whether it was purposely or not - brushed up against his unclothed crotch. There was an evident hitch in Brian’s breath as he was caught by surprise, causing you to smirk slyly to yourself. You felt extremely prideful that now, sober, he still seemed to want you. You suddenly felt a need to test this theory even further but before you could act, Brian already had.

His touch was a teasing linger at first, his calloused fingers grazing up your thigh to your hip. You exhaled softly as you shivered, goosebumps appearing on your soft skin. His fingers flirted lower, exploring the dips of your waist and stomach, making you clench your thighs together tightly.  Brian’s hand reached your bottom, cupping and massaging, and the long whining moan that escaped your lips ran through Brian’s body and went straight to his already hard cock.

Brian’s other arm that was snaked under you wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into him tighter, as he instinctively rubbed his erection against your bottom. His breathing picked up, heavy on your neck just below your ear, his messy curls tickling your face.

You felt a fire ignite between your legs and this time it was more intense than the night before. You had all of your senses and faculties, your head wasn’t as foggy. Last night had been the first (and second) time, but this morning it felt new.

Brian’s long fingers dipped between your legs and gently grazed your wet folds. Your cheeks heated up when you realized how positively soaked you already were for him, but Brian had the opposite reaction. He groaned softly and pushed a finger into you gently, making you gasp, your mouth falling into an ‘O’ shape.  Brian bucked his hips again in reaction to your moan,  breathing heavily into your ear. He began to pump his finger in and out of you slowly and deliberately.

You felt your entire body heating up, your cheeks flushing. You tilted your head back, resting the back of it on his shoulder. Brian took the opportunity to immediately turn your head to capture your lips in his. You moved your lips in time with his dry, chapped ones and as his tongue pushed into your mouth you took in the taste of him, a mixture of last night’s liquor and a taste that was uniquely Brian. He fingers curled inside you and moaned loudly into his mouth, arching against his long slender frame.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were panting heavily, chest rising and falling. You looked into his eyes, they were full of lust and that deeper look that you recalled from the first moment you locked eyes with him on stage. You couldn’t be bothered to try and decide what that was at the moment. Your eyes traveled down his face to his bitten red lips and you leaned in again, kissing him chastely.

“I need you. Right now.” Brian’s voice finally broke the long period of breathing and moans that had filled the time since the two of you woke up.  You nodded before he even finished, knowing already. He slipped his hand from between your legs and grabbed your hip firmly, smearing your own wet juices on your hot skin, which somehow turned you on even more. His other hand uncoiled from around your waist, both of his large hands gripping your hips as he lined you up with his already leaking dick.

Brian kissed just below your ear as he pushed into you, making your fingers dig into the sheet of the bed tightly as he stretched you, a familiar and new sensation all at the same time. He slowly pulled your hips back to him as he slid in further until he was completely inside you once again, a sigh of relief falling on to your shoulder. He kept his calloused fingers pressing into your hip bones, unmoving.

“Brian…” You panted, your voice sounding tired but full of want. Brian hummed softly as if to ask what it was you needed in a gentle kind way that almost made you giggle. “M-move please…” You whispered back, opening your eyes that had fluttered shut at some point.

A smirk graced Brian’s lips for just a moment and then he nodded, another kiss placed to your jaw as he pulled out slowly and then snapped his hips forward, thrusting into you roughly. A loud moan fell from your lips as it seemed to satisfy exactly what you wanted.

Brian used your hips to hold you close to him as he tried to convey how much he desired you through the way he fucked you into the mattress. Your knuckles turned white from how tightly you gripped the sheets, Brian slowed his pace for a moment, thrusting deliberately and firmly, a small whimper falling from his lips with each one. You turned your head to kiss him sloppily, teeth clashing and noses bumping together. You reached up and interlaced a hand into his curls, gently pulling on them earning a low groan from the back of Brian’s throat.

Brian sped up again and slid his long fingers back down between your legs, finding your aching bundle of nerves and rubbing it expertly and you were sure this was the best thing you’d ever had happen to you. Your toes curls and your muscles tensed as you felt your high approaching faster that you’d ever thought feasible. When you heard Brian’s breathing change as you tightened around him, you knew he was close as well.

“..so good Brian…” You whimpered softly, muttering curses and praises as he brought you closer and closer until you finally came with his face buried into the crook of your neck, placing affectionate kisses. It was incredibly intense and washed over you in waves, filling your senses with nothing but pleasure and Brian. 

“I c-can’t much long-” Brian started to say into your flushed skin but he tensed, pulling out of you suddenly, squirting hot streaks onto your inner thigh as he panted your name breathlessly.  He collapsed next you, his hand rest on your waist gently and affectionately. You rolled over onto your back and his hand slid to your stomach, his fingers rubbing over your hot skin.

As you lay next to him, trying to catch your breath, your mind started racing again. Suddenly it hit you deep in your stomach, like you’d just been punched and you couldn’t breath. He had a wife somewhere. She was probably wondering why he didn’t call last night. Maybe that was her the phone. Did she have any idea that he had you in bed with him as she called him?

What kind of person were you now? One of “those” girls? What if your dad somehow found out?

“What is it?” Brian spoke and you almost jumped as he broke you from your downward spiral of thoughts. You glanced over at him as you sat up in bed, he still laid close to you, skin still against skin.

“What do you mean?” You answered nonchalantly like you hadn’t just been overthinking everything in a matter of seconds.

“You went somewhere just now.” He said softly, his voice sounding so sure like he’d known you for years. “Was…was that okay?” The shy boy was back suddenly as he blinked several times, searching your face.

You started to smile and then bit it back. If he only know how “okay” it was. You started to  lift your hand to push some of his unruly curls from his face so you could see his eyes better,  but you stopped halfway there and tried to make it seem like you were intending on pushing your own hair back. His gorgeous curls weren’t yours to push back affectionately.

He caught it your intention and your bail out and it made his heart sink slightly. He knew what you had to be thinking about because he was thinking about it too.

“I should probably go, I didn’t tell my roommate I was going to be gone last night, she’s probably freaking out…”

Brian’s expression looked suddenly heartbroken, but only for a moment before his quick brain tried to problem solve. “You could call her if you’d like.” His head nodded towards the phone as he slowly moved to sit up in bed, his long arm stretching to grab a towel off the floor and hand it to you.

You shook your head as you took the towel from him, cleaning yourself off, almost excessively as if you felt dirty with guilt.

“That’s alright, I don’t want to put you out.” You mumbled and slid out of the bed, looking around the room for your underwear, clothes, anything.

“Don’t be silly, you can use the phone. You mentioned calling her last night and I think I distracted you.” Brian chuckled softly, giving you a small smirk, pulling you back under his spell with that ever present charm.

“Now that doesn’t sound like you at all” You giggled, winking at him playfully as you pulled on your underwear. “Is my shirt over there?”

Brian laughed softly and shook his head as he stood from the bed. “You were wearing a dress.”

“Oh fuck. Walk of shame it is then…” You sighed, gesturing for him to hand you your dress.

“You can wear one of my shirts.” He offered, taking your hand in his instead of placing your clothing in it. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes scanning your face deeply.

“We have another show tonight…” He whispered, his breath fanning over your face and intoxicating you. You blinked slowly.

“Okay?” You whispered back.

“Stay?” He asked earnestly, his eyes full of hope. You hated to crush it, but you had to rip off the bandaid. He wasn’t yours and you couldn’t just keep playing house with him.

“Who was that on the phone this morning?” You quipped with a raised eyebrow.

Brian looked taken aback but he was quick with his wit as you were.

“I don’t know, I didn’t answer.” He stated simply.

You rolled your eyes and took your dress from his other hand gently, stepping into it and pulling it up. He pulled his own briefs back on and then walked over to his suitcase, facing away from you.

“I’m not sure what this is.” He suddenly spoke. It caught you by surprise and it gave you the smallest glimmer of hope.

“What?”

“This….what happened last night between us…well and this morning between us.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. He kept getting dressed as he spoke as if to have an excuse not to look into your eyes. “I’m just not sure what happened. I don’t….I don’t do this sort of thing.”

You wanted to believe that so badly. It made you feel special in some sick and twisted way, that you could be the only one he had ever crossed that line for. It made no sense but you bit back a smile. If he would turn around you might have a chance of reading his expression, but his tall lanky frame and the back of his head of curls gave away nothing.

“You mean you don’t have one night stands like this all the time on tour?” You asked softly, leaning against a hotel chair in your half zipped, wrinkly dress, arms crossed across your chest.

That did it, Brian spun around at that, only the two bottom button of his shirt done. “What?” He exclaimed. “No, absolutely not, I’m married, I’ve never done this.”

You hummed and nodded, pleased with his answer but not wanting to give it away. “Finish your buttons” you smiled slightly, nodding your head towards his shirt.

Brian buttoned the rest of his shirt quickly, his expression showing he wasn’t thinking about the task he was completing at all. He missed a button and they came out crooked and messy, but he didn’t notice.

He crossed the room again and looked down at you, he stood much taller than you but not in a threatening way in the slightest.

“I mean it Y/N.” Brian blinked several times. “You can ask any of the guys, I’ve been in my hotel room completely alone every night since I became a married man.”

You lifted your hands to the buttons of his shirt and started undoing them, trying to fix his haphazard job. You didn’t meet his eyes.

“Okay Brian. You don’t owe me an explanation, I’m not the one you have to justify things to…” You mumbled softly.

Brian sighed heavily at this and watched your hands. You stopped with just the bottom two buttons done, as he had it originally and leaned back.

“Hmm…” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What?” Brian cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Did I lose a button?”

“No.” Your lips turned into a smile. “I think it looks better like that.”

Brian looked down at the way you had left his shirt. “Oh don’t be ridiculous. With only two buttons?” He laughed, elbowing you playfully. “My whole chest and stomach is showing! Might as well forgo the shirt!”

“Yes!” You grinned widely, feeling your heart swell at the sound of his laugh. “Normally I’d say it’s a no, but you somehow pull it off.” You were laughing and comfortable with him again, it always just happened so easily. The elephant in the room was again pushed to the side for a happy moment, just like this morning.

“I know absolutely nothing about fashion so if you’re putting me on, I’ll have you know that I won’t stand for it.” Brian wrapped his long arms around your waist and pulled you into him.

You gazed up at him with admiration, dazed by his sparkling, kind eyes.

“I would never.” You hummed, your voice low but genuine.

“Breakfast?”

“You read my mind, I’m starved!”

**********************

Brian had somehow convinced you to stay for the next show at Madison Square Garden that night. It was like all reasonable thought was suspended when you were around him. It felt just like a new relationship, you felt giddy and happy as you sat in a seat in the empty auditorium watching the four boys soundcheck.

It wasn’t spoken about, but you tried to keep your distance. You had met all of them last night, but you didn’t want to overstep your bounds. You still weren’t sure what Brian had told them.

Which is why you were suddenly anxious when the blonde drummer called out your name loudly, waving you down to the stage wildly with a drumstick.

“Y/N!! Don’t be shy!!” He called, a boyish grin on his face.

“Rog, we’re trying to work here…” You heard Brian grumble softly, as if a warning. Roger paid him absolutely no mind and waved you over again.

“Oh come off it Bri, I just want to talk to her.” Roger rolled his eyes and finally sat back down on the stool of his drum set when you stood and walked towards them.

John sat perched on an amp, discussing something with a crew member as you walked past him, silently hoping you were going mostly unnoticed by everyone on stage there working.

Roger’s blue eyes lit up as you finally reached his drum riser.

“Y/N!” He grinned. “You’re back, day two, Madison Square Garden!” He twirled a drumstick and then hit a drum sharply, making you jump.

“Yes, you’re very observant aren’t you.” You teased playfully, watching Brian out of the corner of your eye. He seemed tense, biting his lip as he tuned his Red Special for what seemed like the 7th time.

Roger laughed and leaned closer to where you stood. He opened his mouth to speak, but waited until Brian played a chord and it echoed loudly through the empty space.

“I want to know how you pulled that off last night.” Roger asked.

“Excuse me? You want to know how I slept with Brian last night?” You gasped, about to get fired up at his bold question, your blood pressure rising. He had some nerve. 

Roger cackled and shook his head, catching Brian’s attention immediately, it only took him about two steps to be within earshot of your conversation. He was closer now as he fumbled with his guitar, you knew he was listening.

“Well that answers that question doesn’t it!” Roger continued to laugh, making you frown slightly. “I meant how you got backstage! No one was trying to kick you out, they treated you like you belonged. Usually girls have to sneak back and they get thrown out before they get anywhere near us.” The blonde boy shook his head as if he couldn’t believe you thought anything else.

You blushed furiously, your cheeks a bright red, your face so hot that you left like all the stage lights were on you even though they weren’t even turned on.

“O-oh.” You mumbled. “I had an access pass.” You wished the ground would swallow you up. You just admitted it to Roger, someone else knew now. Would he tell someone else? Would he tell Brian that you told him? It hadn’t even been 24 hours and you’d already screwed up and spilled the beans. Would Brian be upset?

You glanced over at Brian and he didn’t seem to follow.

“An all access pass? You must be important then.” He smiled, this time it was friendly and sincere.

“Not really, my father is. He always gets them for me, I just don’t usually…put them to use I guess.” You shrugged.

“Who is your father?” Roger cocked an eyebrow.

“Y/D/N Y/L/N” You stated simply .

Brian spun around and paced over to you quickly, his eyes wide with horror.

“Of Capital Records?!” Roger gasped.

You opened your mouth to respond and before you could, Brian was right next to you.

“You didn’t tell me that.” He stated, his tone even but unreadable.

“I was supposed to tell you who my dad is?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Well it seems like relevant information doesn’t it?” Brian retorted, still not raising his voice or even appearing upset. He glanced up at Roger as if to ask him to leave. Roger was busy twirling his drumstick and didn’t even notice. Annoyance flickered over Brian’s features before he looked back down at you.

“You didn’t even ask how she got backstage Brian?” Roger interrupted with an amused tone.

Brian gaze shot up to Roger once again. “Fuck off.” He said firmly. Roger simply chuckled and shook his head, standing up from him drum stool and walking off as he lit a cigarette.

“Good luck Y/N, he’s feisty during soundcheck” He added as he was almost out of ear shot.

“You didn’t seem to care about whose daughter I was last night.” You finally spoke to Brian again.

“It’s not that I care, I just think it’s something you should have mentioned. I have to be careful…” Brian sighed, his body how tense with stress as he shook his head making his curls bounce. You took a step closer to him and took his hands in your own, but he pulled him back instantly, recoiling from your touch.

“Y/N, there’s a lot of people here.” He stated, as if you should know better.

Your eyes instantly filled with tears but you tried to blink them back as quickly as possible. You had no right to cry over this man, he wasn’t yours. You knew that when you decided to stay. Still, something about him pulling away and hiding you made you feel dirty and used. You felt your heartbeat in your ears and your stomach felt sick as you took a step back from him, shaking your head.

Brian realized his mistake and reached out to take you by the elbow, his eyes apologetic.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“BRIAN!” A loud voice called out from the control room, making the two of you look in the direction of it. “Your wife is on the phone, she said she’s going to keep calling until you talk to her!” A crew member explained, looking desperate for Brian to take the call so that he didn’t have to try to explain to the woman on the phone.

Brian looked back down at you, panic and desperation flashing through his features. He slowly released your elbow and blinked a few times, trying to process the whirlwind of events.

“I’ll be right back.” He whispered.

“Brian please.” You begged, a soft plead for him to stay and discuss this with you, even though you knew it was ridiculous to ask him to choose to ignore his wife’s phone call for a petty tiff with you, who he’d known for less than 24 hours.

“I have to, she’s my wife.” Brian said firmly, not meeting your eyes as he pulled his Red Special off and set it down against the amp, not even noticing he dropped his six pence he used as a pick. It felt with a soft cling and then rolled to your feet and stopped.

You bent down and picked it up, looking down at the silver metal in your fingers and rubbing it softly, feeling the texture. You felt the fight or flight insticts rising in your body like the two sides of the coin, the choice in your hands.

It was too much. He had a wife and of course he chose her. Your sick mind thought he would chose you? What was wrong with you? 

But you on the other hand, couldn’t make a decision. He had asked you to stay right?

You stood frozen in the middle of the soundcheck stage, crew members and now John, Freddie and Roger stealing glances at you and whispering lowly. 

You assigned fight to heads and flight from the situation as tails and then flipped the coin in the air. You caught it in your palm and slapped it onto the back of your hand, your heart racing for it’s decision.

Your eyes filled with tears as you shoved the coin in your pocket.

TAGLIST: @shishterfackisback @notevenlxvely @la-vie-en-rosuh @borhapqueen92 @heartsarecompatible @discodeakygotmorerhythm @magicwithaknife @geek-and-proud @discodeakky @sitonmyhot-seatoflove @killer-queen-xo @cheers-my-dears-16 @eddie-clapsback @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

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[magicalsalamander]

Aurelius [Prologue]

Pairing: BTS Namjoon  ⇆ Reader

Genre: Werewolf | Fluff | Angst | Smut [later] |

Summary: When the daughter of the secretary for the Minister for Wolf and Canine relations is the last living member of her clan, she must find a way to avenge her family. She must find a way to put an end to the hunters whose sole purpose is to cleanse the world of werewolves. The golden one hasn’t forgotten. Will she be able to get the revenge she needs?

Words: 8.7 K

Warnings: Rated Mature; Explicit themes, action/ violence, blood shed, torture, death of characters (minor), and graphic depiction. This is not true though series, only this part for context.

A/N:  Orig post: 01|15| 2018; Updated intro 12|12|19. Part of the KLF Universe. Thank you @ratedtae​ for the moodboard. 

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Only the ghost of the red-violet torch light painting the depressingly dull cobblestone walls gave me indication I didn’t give into the darkness. My first associations with that light were brief when the Neanderthal like men dragged my father, my grandfather and I into this cell. The oxidized iron liquid that I used to call mine painted the wall behind me and my very own dress. It was like my once champagne peach dress was now dipped in a marbled brown and burgundy dye solution and rung out sloppily. The spaghetti straps no longer supported the once proud collar of my dress but hung lifelessly at my sides. The only thing left at my side now. The cold, almost wet, cement floor and the cobble stone walls were the only thing supporting me up now. Gashes, slashes, and broken ribs left me immobile with only my eyes making the major movement.  I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe, but I still had the fight in me. Almost cruelly, I still had fight in me.

I couldn’t hear well out of my right ear anymore just a high pitched constant ringing. Though clearly in my left ear I could hear a set of two heavy boots trail down the hall towards my cell. My grandfather remained unconscious in the opposite corner of the cell with his back facing me. If my senses proved me right, he’s left us a few hours ago to a better place. I only stared at the men dressed in black clothing with leather ascents who stood across the uneven, iron bars of the cell. What was the most sickening about them was the pelt that still carried the head of the wolf on the shoulders of their cloak. The faces of my people.

I growled lowly in my throat challenging these men to come close to me. They laughed and shoved the uneven bars of the cell door with their mudded boots open and stepped into the cell creating a half moon around me. I remained still as possible monitoring their movements cautiously with my eyes. The only reliable sense I had left. The center one with a grey wolf around his black cloak crouched down to my level. He took my chin between his calloused thick hands and brought my face up to look at him. His yellowed teeth showed behind his grime smile. His unkept long, brown hair fanned over his face only making his appearance more menacing. You’ve heard the verbal stories passed down through generations from your grandparents about these men. The horrific things these men did. The hunters.

He licked his chapped, thin lips before speaking, “It’s such a shame a pretty doll like this is such a filthy little bitch. If she wasn’t such scum I would’ve taken her to my bed. Sadly, for you my dear, my Lord calls for you.” He dropped my chin roughly and shoved a blacken, muslin bag over your head and tightened it with a string. I couldn’t see where they were dragging me, but I tried to mesmerize the turns we were taking but it was hard when your feet were scrapping cement. My feet weren’t used to such rough terrain, instead accustomed to running through grass, soft dirt, and the fuzzy carpet of my home. I missed home.

In fact, I was just there a few hours ago! A day ago? I’m not really sure how much time has passed honestly since I’ve been in this cell.

It was Sunday and my family held a monthly dinner to take a moment to celebrate life and being a family. I was sleeping in late that day when my mom came in the room and shoved open my curtains that block out the harsh noon sun. I enjoy the sun, just not when I’m trying to sleep. I grumble knowing that this is the end, the end of my precious slumber. Without warning she jumps on top of me and tickles me leaving me no choice to get up to stop her. I swear my mother never grew up, she’s more like a big sister than a parental figure. “Y/N, its Sunday. You know what that means?” I grumble under the covers while my mother leans her head into the covers to get a better listen. “Your grandparents are coming in from the North. They took a train here this morning and will be arriving around 5pm. You know how hard it is for them to travel so get up and help me. Get dressed first, wear something nice nothing casual Aure! We don’t have a lot of time!” I sneak a hand out of the blanket and wave it to her and give her an okay sign. She pats my butt in understanding the shaky promise and leaves the room.

Aure obviously wasn’t your name. I liked the name though, but my mom thought my legal name fit better. It just had this flow to it that was so…me, or so she insists. Before I was born, my dad went to Spain for a study abroad program for college and stayed with a Spanish family. He was taken into the family like one of their own during his stay. The wife/mother of the family taught him things his family lacked and found a new family in them. He grew very close to her and years later back at home when he found out he was going to have a daughter he wanted to name her after that woman. Her name was Aureliana (but your family found it simpler to call me by Aure). He asked her before he left if her name held a meaning and she said it meant golden and an emperor from Rome bared that name; more realistically her mother wanted her life to be golden like the word itself. My mother had decided on her children’s name as long as she could remember, so it left your father little room to argue. He found a loophole and called me Aure as a nickname, because I am as precious as gold to him.

I went to shower first before I swung open the French doors to my closet. I didn’t have many party dresses, but the ones I did I took care of. It was Spring, so I went with my champagne-peach spaghetti strap short dress that set just above my knees. It was pastel enough to match the new turn of the season, but comfy enough to maneuver in. Comfort comes first after all with clothing. I sat at my white vanity that used to be my grandmothers and set my face with light makeup. I was only staying indoors today anyways. I French braided my hair from crown to tip and pulled at the strands to loosen it up. A few pieces were taken out around my temple and cascaded on the side of my face. My mother came back in the room already dressed up as well in her blue, long sleeve knee length dress. She had her hair tied up in a tight bun that complimented her sharp features. The gold jewelry complimented her gold eyes. It was a unique thing that belonged to your people, even more unique to female alphas; only female alpha’s have gold eyes. She grabbed the two ends of the chains I already raised to latch the rose gold necklace, but took over halfway wordlessly. It was one piece of the set my father to me for my last birthday when I turned seventeen. My mother reached into the aged, heirloom jewelry box and pulled out the six rose gold rose pins for my hair. She weaved them through the braid into a small garden. I looped in the small hoop earring into my ears as the last touch and after latching the last hoop I took in everything. My metallic, rose gold eyes matched my jewelry perfectly.

I was born with gold eyes like my mother but as I got older red bleed into the gold mixing it into a rose gold. In a childish fit I was ashamed of them, I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be like the rest of my pack, like the other female alpha’s generations before me. I sat at on the top of the porch chairs ashamed of my eyes but my father sat down behind me incasing me in between his legs. He set his bearded chin on my head, “The purple blends with the edges of the sky at night and for centuries people have painted that same sky. Each sunset is unique, no day will the clouds be the same. There will be no night where the sunset doesn’t marble into different colors.” I stopped sobbing hearing my dad’s words. He always talked some sense into me and told stories instead of lectures to get his message across. He wound his arms around me in a comforting hug, “Aure, Aureliana, my love, do you know that your name is as unique as the sky?” I shook my head acknowledging I’ve never bothered to ask, it’s just always been a self-truth I didn’t question. He sighed rocking me side to side gently and began, “Aureliana was the name of a special woman, who was like a mother to me, when I went to Spain. She told me the great legend of her name. Aureliana meant golden and that it was the name of an emperor of the Romans. The Romans were strong, smart, and diverse people who wore their red and gold robes proudly. They were greatest people of their time! Of course, your mother wanted to name you Y/N, but I still think you’re my little golden token. I’m grateful to have you Aure and I wouldn’t ever change that. You are strong and smart. Don’t be ashamed of the same colors the Roman’s wore proudly. My precious, little wolf, be the strong and valiant one I know you are.”

Being the daughter of an Alpha was a big responsibility, you were expected to lead the pack later when it was time to pass it down to the next reigning leader as the new Luna. The words my father told me that evening never left my every day motivational speech. I’ve held my head proudly since then and I want to lead my pack with pride when the time came. My pack was only a smaller division of a larger collective tribe. The region that I belong to was made of five different family packs, but my family was the second in ranking. The Kim family was the main alpha’s that ruled the area and their alpha worked for the Council as the Minister of Wolves and Canine relations. Your father was the secretary for the Minister earning the spot as a wise alpha and a smart man.  

I walked down the stairs trailing after my mother into the kitchen. It was only my mother and myself in the house for the meantime to finish dinner and decorate the house before my father returned with my grandparents, his parents. My mother’s family disappeared five years ago, never to be found. I mixed some of the dishes and went to set the table with a large bouquet centerpiece. A few streamers were hung to create a festive atmosphere and bring all the décor together. It was tradition in wolf culture to be close to your family and mine lived by that diligently. I was working on some decorations in the living room when I hear the familiar car horn coming from the drive way. I slipped on my outside slippers and made my way out and down the porch steps and jogged up to the white Jeep Grand Cherokee. I waited for my dad to come out the car and he opened his arms wide and said, “Aure!” With an open invitation I jumped into his arms and squeezed him with all I had. He laughed at my eagerness and set me down. I turned to my grandparents struggling to get out. My grandpa was a tall, lean man with salt and pepper hair. He said his wrinkles were caused by grandma, “the woman never knows how to stop nagging me Y/N,” at least I quote from him. Grandma was a short, small woman but she had enough spunk in her to rival me. I hugged them equally as tight just not jumping this time around. I politely took their carry-ons walking with them into the house as they told me about their adventure on the train. Your father followed closely behind with their suitcase and closed the front door.

It was around seven pm when everything was on the table and served onto everyone’s plate. My father raised his glass clinking it with a nearby utensil. “I’m so glad my parents could make it to this dinner. It’s always great having you in our home. It isn’t home without everyone here tonight, Howls to the kin!” You all howled in cheer and clinked your glasses, but in my gauntlet it was only apple juice. I couldn’t drink any alcohol yet since it was illegal. The meal was delicious, my mother was an amazing cook. All adults at the table were tipsy with the merlot wine that my father has been saving for the occasion. I was facing the bay window sitting next to my mother, across from your grandparents with my father at the head of the table. All the adults were so in tuned with some old story that I’ve heard every Sunday dinner. They were clearly giggling at the same boring parts and retelling the same old jokes. I stared out the window not being able to leave the table until I cleaned my plate. I twirled my fork in the few last bites of pasta, but I didn’t raise it to take a bite. I stared out at the tree line of the property. The moonlight shined brightly on the mid-size back yard reflecting on the freshly dewed grass. We were far out from the city and from the closet pack house, it was safer for us and allowed us to run the forest in our natural states. There were no fences around the property since we wanted to run freely and return at will.

The tree line seemed to move and sway, I rubbed my eyes clearing it of any haze. I was positive I didn’t drink anything so why was the tree line changing? The black shadows took to a uniform line of dark shadows approaching the house out of the trees. They wore long, black cloaks, so you couldn’t make out any faces. I panicked my heart was racing, I yelled breaking the warm, nostalgic atmosphere, “Dad, Dad, there are people approaching the house! Look out the window, Look!” As if he sobered up instantly, his eyes burned a bright red and he peered at the tree line finally seeing the approaching shadows. A growl ripped through everyone in the room and I turned to the window again now seeing them more clearly. Each carried a pelt, some multiple, of their hunt with large knifes tucked into a sheath on their belt. They were armed in leather armor under their cloaks as I caught glimpses within strides. The man in the middle with multiple pelts on his cloak raised his hand and his minions stopped. He raised his head and to the side allowing my family to see the smirk of his teeth. He unsheathed his large sword gripping the leather handle that had a wolf’s tail hanging as an ornament. The blade was held in the air and it was dripping in purple, viscous solution. My eyes widened, I knew that syrup very well and whispered audibly, “wolfsbane.” The man kept arching his arm all the way back and then threw his knife towards us. Screams wrecked the room as the knife cracked the glass shattering the window and the knife was left oscillating stuck in the wooden table. My mother grabbed my hand calling along my grandmother, “Honey, we’re going to run. Don’t stop running okay? When we reach the front lawn, I want you to shift into your wolf. Go!” I looked towards my father and grandpa, who was already shifting and charging towards the men. I whimpered. There were too many men, I already knew this wasn’t going to end well. My mother dragged me to the front door and I made it into the lawn bare feet, “Shift! Don’t bother removing clothes just run!” The sound of clothes ripping and bones cracking filled the air, but close along the boots and laughs of the men followed. I didn’t look back, I kept running with my family at my side.

I was able to make it a half mile out climbing over and under shrubbery, trees, and anything in the way. It wasn’t long before you heard a yelp and against better judgment I took a gander back only to be horrified when you saw that your grandmother was being pulled by the tail towards the men. They raised their purple knifes letting the purple syrup drip tauntingly and then straight into her. I was horrified but my mother nudged my shoulder midstride to keep running; it wasn’t time to stop. My vision was getting blurry with tears. We made it past a river bank and saw an upcoming edge of a cliff. If we jumped, we could get away. We made it a bit further, I was trailing in front of my mother when I heard a pained howl. I stopped a few steps ahead and saw she was stuck in a bear trap. I was circling her whining, there wasn’t anything I could do in this state. I approached her and tried to bite the claws open finding any lever to release the pressure. I was panicking because I could smell the putrid smell of the hunters. The distinct smell of wolfsbane was getting closer and closer. I scratched and bite at the trap for a release, my claws were filing against the rusted metal of the old forgotten trap. My mother was barking at me to leave, leave and go far away but I wasn’t going to leave her behind. Before I knew it a large calloused hand encircled my neck and held me above the ground hind legs dangling. I couldn’t breathe but I was kicking and biting at the hands holding me. They laughed at my struggle, “Well look at what we have here. Two females? Well if it isn’t our lucky day.” One of the five men was stroking my mothers fur, but retracting his hand back when she snapped at him. He clicked his tongue at her, “stubborn, bitch.” He then placed his foot on the trap and eventually applied enough pressure to hear a snap of bone where the two sides of the bear trap met again. I roared, and my mother was screaming at the loss of her limb. The amount of blood flowing was overwhelming. They looked towards me and noticed my eyes, “wow, look at this one’s eyes. It would sell for so much if we dug them out and sold them don’t ya think?” I was shaking more violently doing everything I could to get out of their grasp. My mother looked into my eyes one last time before the gold left hers to turn a black as the man brought his up knife in both hands and through her chest. It hurt so much, and I was feeling sick. My vision was blacking in and out and before you knew it you passed out from the lack of air.

The muslin over my head didn’t lessen all of my senses. I could smell the different owners of blood, but I recognized notes of my fathers and grandpa’s as I was hurled to the floor of the room. I could only hear four heartbeats in the room. Before the muslin was removed, my arms were twisted behind my back locked in cuffs that were attached to decayed chains latched to the celling in my kneeling position. A scratchy rope was tied around my thighs and calves into a permanent kneeling position. This position really put strain on my broken rib, but I made no notion of it. I wasn’t going to let them get under my skin. My father always warned me if I was ever in this position to show no fear, don’t directly challenge but handle things logically. With him being in politics, this isn’t the first threat our family has faced. The bag was removed off my head and I had to squint to adjust to the bright surgical lighting of the room. The room had tiles lining the wall and on the opposite wall my father was suspended from the ceiling in chains like mine. His face was so bloated and the injury from somewhere in his hairline was dripping down his face. I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to remain composed with my head held up high. I was still trying to forget what happened to my mother and grandparents. The same man who threw the knife through the window was standing over a machine with different knobs and switches. From the machine ground lead wires were snaked on the ground but lead to attachments on my father at random locations on his chest.

My nostrils flared at the sight taking deeper breathes and from the burning smell of flesh. I couldn’t turn my head up very much since I was forced into a bowing position. I was able to bring my head to glimpse over my lashes at my father who tried to speak to me, but he was only able to gurgle out blood. I lowered my head before I lost all self-control. The traumatic image was becoming too much. The man once standing in front of the generator began pacing the room, “Well, are you going to tell us now? Your poor, poor daughter wouldn’t need to face the same pain, right? It would be a shame to waste a pretty face. You’re going to tell us where the Kim’s home is, right?” My dad was struggling against the chains, “don’t touch her!” The man responded like chastising a child, “that’s not the answer I wanted, now is it.” He didn’t get any response though my father refused to let them know anything.

The man stepped in front of me taking me in and brought his hunting knife out of his tool belt. He circled around me and crouched behind me waving the knife around between his index and thumb. My father was growling viciously with his fangs elongated grazing his already cut lip. I whimpered when he dragged the blade over my skin much like a cat scratching a post. I was trembling causing the chains to rattle, “Oh, little puppy are you scared?” I didn’t respond but attempted to stop the trembling. He sighed and with his cold tone, “Daughter like father.” He stood up and brought the knife to the top of my dress and brought it down tearing the back open and then brought the knife to my bra and ripped that as well. He cleared my spine of any fabric raking his calloused, dry hands up and down my spine and exposing it to the frigid air of the room. I didn’t bother holding back my panting now, I was terrified. The man twirled the knife in his hand again lazily eyeing my father, “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go in intervals of cutting her and shocking you until you answer me.” My father was growling but it was cut off with a pained yelled when electricity ran through his system. I was pressing my lips tightly together silently screaming as the purple knife cut into my upper arm. The pause was short in between repetitions when the man yelled again at my father for answers. Dad was sobbing and yelling for them to stop, to leave me alone. You remained silent, not wanting to spend any energy on speaking.

After more rounds they threw water on your father when he was nearing passing out. I couldn’t keep track anymore of the gashes my arms and legs, they burned like fire because of the wolfsbane. The one that burned the most was the “H” he engraved on my thigh. The pain from the others was dull but it was chronic enough to make me hold your breath occasionally to displace the tension. The man accepted a large bucket form another hunter and brought it to loam over me this time and presented it to my father. Another male held up my father’s chin to acknowledge the lead torturer. He held up a five-gallon (nineteen liter) container with steaming, hot water higher in gesture, “we specially boiled this for her. Now for the last time, where is it?” My father was sobbing at the man holding his chin, but when he got no response the man said, “you leave me with no choice.” He truly couldn’t respond; his facial muscles weren’t responding anymore.

I was trembling so intensely that the chains attached to my cuffs were swinging in the little room they had. The drips of water from the bucket sprinkled on my back and stung upon contract. I held my head low and closed my eyes. I started mumbling comforting words to myself, anything to take my mind off the reality of the situation. I repeated lyrics from the song my mother sang to me that only our people knew. The world felt like it slowed when I felt the first hit of the wave of water. I screamed as hard as I could and the pain in the wake of it was so intense my ears began to ring. My throat felt raw when he pouring stopped but the sobbing didn’t stop. He kept pouring a second time, then a third time after a short break knowing it would intensified the pain. I was still trembling now not from fear but pain. I slumped forward and to the side off my knees onto my left thigh. The man who poured the lava on me commented, “such a shame,” but there was no empathy in his voice. He walked back over to my father and turned the electricity up and kept it on until he passed out. Not long after the muslin bag was thrown over my head again and they undid the cuffs. I just slumped to the floor face first unable to move. They dragged my father and I back to the cell where we were held earlier and laid me on the cold cell floor. They removed the bag around my head and I noticed my grandfather no longer laid in the corner. I don’t remember much after because the world was getting darker and I eventually gave into the slumber when the pain and the blood loss became too much.

I woke up in my dad’s embrace sometime later, he was petting my head whispering sweet nothings into my hair. He was crying and repeating apologies. I opened my eyes and muttered “Dad” somewhere in between a lingual language and slurring. He didn’t stop his ministrations but now changed his words, “Your name is Aure. You’re no longer Y/N. If anyone ask you say that is who you are. The others, they didn’t make it, but you, you will! I’m going to help you escape. I need you to live on Aure. Once we reach the front door I need you to run and get as far away as possible. My little wolf you will run!” I was unsure of what he meant, what did he mean only I was going to escape? Why weren’t we going together? “Dad, it’s both of us or nothing.” He shook his head and stroked my cheek and told me that when the guards leave be prepared to leave.

I wasn’t prepared when my dad was able to bend the uneven metal bars, or when I snuck down the cell hallway up the stairs. The torch lights flickered when we passed by them. I wasn’t prepared when he held his hand over my mouth walking up the irregularly spaced cement stairs into the cabin on ground floor. I wasn’t prepared when he shoved me out the front door when the hunters ambushed him seeing us trying to escape. I wasn’t prepared when he fought them off with everything he had and he yelled to me with his last breath “Run!”. I had to leave him. I ran, unprepared, but I ran away.

I shifted into my wolf form because I was able to run faster on four legs than two. The pain from the burns along my spine and the gashes all over my body made the shift harder and regaining traction back nauseating. I stumbled my way into the forest and broke into a full run with all I had. Pain was secondary now. I kept running even when I couldn’t hear any more voices. I couldn’t trust silence. I kept running even when I was stumbling over my front paws, I must keep going. I came across a river at the end of a blue-green waterfall. Behind the waterfall’s cascade was a cave but before I made any moves into it I smelled the surroundings for anyone or anything. The coast was clear, so I stumbled into the entrance slipping on some rocks and into a shallow pool of cold water. The cold soothed my burns and the dirt in my fur contaminant the once clear water. The normally light-brown, white coat was a dark brown and burgundy. I stayed in the pool, I didn’t have energy to get back up. I was done running off adrenaline. I began sobbing knowing I now had lost my whole family. I had no one anymore. I cried myself into exhaustion and passed out in the water.

Daylight poured into the cave diffused in scattered light through the curtains of water. I laid in the same position for a while longer because the adrenaline was finally wearing off. I was so sore, but I was able to prop myself flat onto my stomach, whimpering when I put too much pressure on my ribs, and licked at my wounds enough to seal them. Werewolf’s have a special enzyme in their saliva that provide a Neosporin topical protection. Normally werewolves heal fast, but under extreme stress it can take just as long as a human’s regrowth rate. I had to get up and keep going, I didn’t know how far away the hunters were or if they were already waiting for me nearby. I limped my way out of the cave and drank some water from a clean pool before I carried on. The pain wasn’t as bad as last night, but my back felt tight with the now seared flesh solidifying into scars. Along my way I tried to hunt but no small creatures were around and if there was they were too fast. I kept going until it was pitch black out. A cabin amongst the trees broke the darkness with its porch light. I crouched behind bushes and observed it for any life. There was an old, green pickup truck off to the side of the cabin. I knew someone had to be living there, there must be food, all I had to do was sneak in to take some. I watched the home for any obvious signs hunters were a part of the place, but there wasn’t any pelts or animal skins.

After waiting for an hour, I crept to the side of the house in my human form naked to a side window that was left ajar. I creaked the wooden window pane open but stopped when it got too noisy. I waited for any sound, but nothing came. I gripped the wood and worked my way into the house landing on a knitted rug. I used my night vision to my advantage and observed the room locating the Kitchen. I crept through the dark house into the kitchen. The wooden floor boards would occasionally creak, but I tried to space it out enough to seem like natural, old home settling creaks. The steel double door of the fridge was calling to me, so I braced for the sound of the hiss from opening the door and held my breath as it opened. The decompression of the fridge activated the humming of the radiator. There was too much noise going on, so I grabbed any Tupperware and a crispy, cold apple and ran back to the window.

The light turned on and I froze in the middle of a living room with the evidence in plain sight. My bare back was turned to whomever the two owners of fast paced heart beats were, and I turned around with the apple in my mouth and my eyes wide. I covered my chest with my scared arms and the Tupperware protecting myself as much as I could. The older couple were still in the midst of tying their robes over their pajamas. I began stepping back but tripped over the same knitted rug I landed on spilling the contents on the Tupperware on the floor and myself. I was lowly growling in a way to have them back away enough for me to sneak back out the window. They held their hands up in defense and the older man spoke first, “we aren’t going to hurt you. Please, just calm down.” I was still eyeing the window but my direction of attention changed when they said, “You’re hurt, let us patch you up and feed you. You’re hungry right?” I stopped growling but yapped back in a broken voice, “No, you’re just going to take me back to them! I won’t go back!” They exchanged confused looks not knowing who I was referring too. “Honey, we don’t know who you’re talking about. Please, let us help you.” The room was silent for a few minutes and I looked around taking in the room to see if they had any weapons or pelts. The living room was humble with an old sofa, wooden tables and family pictures. I untensed when nothing indicated hunters and hunched over, but immediately cried out when the movement put stress on my wounds. The older woman inched her way towards me and was able to pick up the apple that fell out of my mouth and handed it to me. With a reluctant hand I extended then brought it back, but fully went to grab it rapidly. The older woman took my other hand and lead me to the bathroom. She asked me to stand in the shower so she could wash off the dirt and clean my wounds. She was truly gentle with me and didn’t ask any questions. I want to run, but the comforting hand of hers reminded me of my own grandmother. I started crying, an ugly cry, hunching over to collapsing to my own feet. The older woman was alarmed, she thought she hurt me further and asked what’s wrong. I shook my head and she brought me into her chest in an embrace not caring that she was getting wet. She rocked me back in forth until my sobs stopped. She dressed my wounds but said, “I’m not a nurse so this is the best I can do. I can’t cover your back up with any bandage. The burn is too extensive, I’m going to just apply aloe and we’ll let it heal on its own.” I nodded slowly in confirmation and she took a step out to her room to grab me some clothing. I finally took a step towards the wide mirror. The woman that looked back at me was an unfamiliar creature. My skin was pale littered in black and blue marks and gauze looped over the countless cuts. I slowly turned around to take a look at my back, if I could call it that anymore. It could’ve been mistaken for a world map from the apex of my neck all the way down to the small of the back. It was roaring red with purple lining the jagged edges of the map, the tiny cluster of blisters were inflamed full to the brim with serum. I was numb at this point, I had no tears left in me, no energy left to mourn anymore.

The family fed me and gave me a room to stay in, they didn’t ask any questions just let me sleep. They respected my sensitive nature for the night. The next evening I woke up after sixteen hours of sleep and was greeted by the older man sipping coffee on the couch, while his wife was across from him knitting a blanket. They looked up at me and smiled widely, “Evening dear, there’s food set on a plate on the dinner table for you.” I nodded and sat down in one of the four chairs with the plate of food. They both joined me at the table sitting across from me. I stopped eating when the atmosphere became uncomfortable. The old man spoke first with a stern voice, “If you’re going to stay here until your better we need to know who you are and where you came from.” I set the utensil down and stared at my plate, but the man spoke again,” I see your eyes are a different color than any natural color, are you one of them?” The older man spoke last words with venom and I knew it wasn’t safe to tell him the truth. I settled for a half-truth half lie on the spot, “my-my name is Aure. I ran away from..”gulp,” the a group of men that took me away from my family. They were sick men and performed experiments on me and my eyes. The last time was too much and I just ran away. I couldn’t take it anymore.” I struggled a bit with a solid story, but it came off as if what I was saying was too painful to relate. I was sure I probably sounded slightly cynical but that just helped me out. I was hoping they would take sympathy on me and consider me a rightful victim. The older woman grabbed my hand in her and patted it, “I’m so sorry that you went through all that. Those men must’ve experimented with wolf blood. Should we call the police? You can stay here as long as you want dear. We’ll be more than happy to take you in.” I looked up afraid, “please, no I don’t want to involve the authorities. I-I just want to stay hidden, it’s safer that way.” The older man just nodded not caring to sit much longer at the table. “He can be rough around the edges, but he means well.” I smiled at her words, but knew I would be walking on glass in this house.

Two years passed, and I’ve never left the cabin. I was happy here, although the first few months were awkward and a struggle the couple never made me feel obliged to anything. I was able to hide who I truly was well with no mishaps. They asked me to call them something else besides mister and misses and I settled on Nana and Papa. Papa taught me how to work the gardens in the back and I even started my own lane of vegetation. Nana taught me how to knit and brew the best cups of tea. It was humble and quiet, but I was glad I had a place to stay. The family had two sons, but they rarely came to visits since they lived in the city. Their old room was now my room and I would read the old comic books they had. The one that caught my attention was Marvel’s Black Widow. I read it back and forth, over and over again. I even found some books on how to fight with diagrams! It was really a boy’s room. They told me they’ve always wanted a daughter, so I was a blessing in disguise.

At night when no one was awake I crept outside to the back and shifted enjoying my wolf form and resting the itch of the beast. I wasn’t the same tawny wolf I used to be with my beautiful light-brown, white coat. My back had a large patch of missing where the scars wouldn’t grow hair back. There was a unique scar on my hind leg of the letter H from when they cut me up letting anyone know who they were. The hunters were forever attached to me. That wasn’t the only scar, my arms were also covered in scars not as large as the H but still notable. I would take the book with me and practice the diagrams. I wanted to be able to defend myself if anything like that were to happen again. I wouldn’t let it happen again. I would always return “home” before they got up and carried on with life.

Nana came up to me with her carrying her canvas grocery bags and list of groceries; papa was slowly in tow adjusting his paperboy hat on his head with the keys in his hand. “Aure, we will be gone until five, but we’ll be back before sundown. We need to make a trip to the store and visit a fellow neighbor. Will you be fine by yourself?” I shook your head, “yes, Nana. I have chores to finish anyways so I will be busy!” She rubbed my arm and they both trailed their way out the door into the pick-up truck. I stood at the door and waved them off watching the truck become a dot in the distance. I went back inside and rolled up my sleeves, it was time to get to work. I cleaned the living room, bathroom and all the bedrooms in no time. I made myself an early lunch and was officially done with all the chores around two p.m. and it would still be another three hours before they came back. I decided I would take advantage of this time alone and shift into my wolf form that way I could sleep all night. I went out back and stripped of my clothing and hid it behind a tree. I shifted with a crack and popping of my bones, but ended up in my natural state. The breeze dusted through my tawny fur and it was the most refreshing sensation. I happily ran a typically path I created chasing any small wild life in tease, rubbing my whole body on the fresh dirt and basked in the sun. It was paradise. I took a nap in the sun on a boulder that acted like a heating pad, but before I knew it the rock grew cold. I snapped awake to a starry sky and bid goodbye to the long-gone sun. I knew I had to make it home fast and change without anyone seeing me.

I ran. I ran as fast as my feet would take me back to the familiar cabin. Within a distant from the cabin I approached the typical tree where I hid my clothing besides, but I wasn’t alone. Papa held up my dress clearly panicked and looked around for you calling out my name. In the clearing of the tree he caught me in my wolf form standing a few trees away. I shifted back into my human form covering my naked body and called to him, “Papa, please. I can explain. I can ex-.”  He threw the dress to the ground causing dust to fly up in a cloud. He didn’t let me finish my statement, he never would. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the front of the cabin where Nana was waiting. She was wide eye when she saw me naked and being dragged back. She ran up to me but Papa yelled at her, “Stay back, she’s one of them! The tramp!” I winced at his strong words. Nana was looking at me with pleading eyes, she was wishing what she heard wasn’t true. He threw me down to the floor like my dress earlier. My knees scrapped against the dry dirt and he left walking into the house. Nana came up to me and grabbed my shoulders, “please, Aure, tell me it’s not true. You’re our Aure, you can’t be one of them!” Tears streamed down my face silently and down to the dirt, I didn’t want them to find out this way. “Nana—,” I spoke to her softly grabbing her hand, but it was yanked away from me by Papa. “Get back from her! She doesn’t deserve our kindness. She’s no better than the dirt she sits on. She’s even worse than that. Her kind should all die!” I couldn’t hold my sobs back in anymore, his words stung.

He pulled Nana behind him and then brought up his rifle to my forehead. The cold metal barrel sat in between my eyes waiting. I stopped moving, everything seemed to go in slow motion. No, no, he wasn’t going to really shoot me, he was just trying to scare me. I scooted back on my legs away from his gun. Nana was shouting at him to stop and lower the rifle, but he just yelled over her with a ferocious roar to shut up. It was as if all life in the forest stopped, the trees weren’t swaying, no small animals moved, the wind was silent. I stared back at the stoutly man who raised the machinery to me. I slowly stood up, “Papa—!” He spat at my feet, “don’t call me any endearing terms mongrel.” I knew it was no use arguing with him anymore, but I had to get away. I had to live I made a promise to my father. I backed away slowly one baby step at a time and noticing his finger switch over to the trigger as he mounted the butt of the gun on his shoulder. The darkness all seemed to blend in as I turned around not facing my once temporary family anymore and took strides away from them. The first long step was successful, your hair was blown behind you from your fast pace. I felt my toes curl around the loose dirt with each step and releasing it along with every propulsion. The air was cold stung and dried out my throat as I huffed forward. I felt it before I heard the echo of the bang of gunfire. I held my breath upon impact as my knees skidded across the stale forest floor. Tears were rolling down my cheek, the bullet was logged in my thigh. I let out a scream that echoed enough to disturb the dead. I propped my hands in front of me and allowed the change to come over me. I had to keep going! I wasn’t dying here tonight, not tonight!

I shifted the best you could and kept thrusted off the ground running full speed. In the distant other rounds of gunshots rang out in my direction, but they became a faint echo the longer I kept going. I kept running, running for my life. The low hanging branches would graze against my side, but I didn’t want to stop. I climbed up a hill, crossed a river bank, and kept going until vision started blurring. The tall pine trees stood over me as I fell against one propping myself up. The pain was unbearable, I couldn’t even support my leg up anymore. I began limping with the leg raised but stopping at every other tree to rest.

Eleven, large grey wolves glided through the night. The sound of unison marching and panting broke the quiet night. Namjoon remained in the back while his father remained in front leading the pack. The males were out tonight monitoring the perimeter and answering the call to their wolf with the freedom to run. Namjoon remained in the back to keep track of the younger ones, not letting them deviate from the path. His father was the main alpha of the tribe, he was the Minister of Wolves. He eventually would have to take on that role also being an alpha. The hierarchy of wolfs were maintained in the blood lines and passed down through generations. Namjoon was a large, dark grey wolf that is larger than the others in his pack and the average werewolf. He was almost the spitting image of his father. The wolves ran and ran coming across nothing out of line, until they smelled me. Namjoon halted the group with a howl. He lifted his muzzle to the air and took in the scent of iron and an unfamiliar wolf. He looked towards his father and only two other betas followed him in his search. They crept and moved closer to the scent. About a quarter of a mile away, Namjoon saw the owner of the scent. I was leaning against the tree panting, sure these would be my last breathes. I finally registered that three other beings were in my area. I lifted my head to gaze at three large wolfs, the middle one was the largest. They were lowly growling in my direction. I wasn’t about to back down, even in the face of death. I shakily stood on my legs and facing their direction and changed my stance into a defensive one. I was challenging them, my rose gold eyes gleamed with anger. The largest one with bright red eyes stepped forward attempting to circle me, but I snapped and growled at him. His body language was telling me to back down and submit, but I wasn’t going to submit to anyone. When I felt he was getting too close I ran off. I didn’t get too far when I stumbled over my front paws when my hind leg gave out. I skidd across the floor in a loud yelp. The pain was too great, I had no other choice. I tried crawling away on my paws dragging my hind legs but I couldn’t gain any traction. The wolves came up behind me and the same red eyed one circled around to face my front and sat down in front of me. The others tried approaching but he just growled at them. He knew it when he first smelled it, he knew it when he got closer, and he knew it when he saw you. You were his mate.

In your tired state you still growled at him, but he wasn’t having it. He transformed into his human form and asked the others to warn his father of your presence. They left and I was left with a handsome, naked man. He came to crouch down next to me and spoke softly, “I need you to switch back. I can’t help you in this way. I won’t hurt you. I don’t know how much longer you’re going to live if you stay out here.” I didn’t want him touching me, but for some reason when he spoke to me it felt comforting. A type of safe I haven’t known in a very long time. I conceded and shifted back into my human form laying on my side. My vision was going in and out and eventually I couldn’t hear him anymore. Namjoon quick to react and picked you up bridal style avoiding your wound. He ran back to the pack covering up your chest by bringing you closer to him away from the prying eyes. His father nodded, and the pack continued forward. Namjoon ran back to the packhouse about a mile away. In between, he would take looks at you, his beautiful mate. He couldn’t make out much since it was so dark, but what he could his heart already was yours.

He made his way up to the oak tree where the whole pack hid their clothing in a container disguised as a rock. He slipped his pants on and his shirt over you. He ran through the back door of the packhouse and called for his grandmother, “Help! Please, help!”

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Copyright 2018  © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.

[ulyssesredux]

Lestrygonians

Working tooth and nail. In Texas now, massive crowd expected. He will be campaigning in Indiana. Now, isn't that wit. Cashed a cheque for me, willing eyes. The heavy noonreek tickled the top, DWS.

Suppose he was eating.

Big crowds of enthusiastic supporters lining the road that the small groups of protesters last night to a debate, and the great coach, old chap picking his tootles.

Crooked Hillary V.P. choice is VERY disrespectful to Bernie Sanders says, she said. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. Crooked Hillary Clinton made up and Bernie is exhausted, no. Our military is building a BILLION dollar plant in Baja, Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the WORLD! $50 million loan. Give the devil the cooks. We will all come together and win this election is being treated properly by the tap all night.

Wow! Aphrodis. Dead drunk on the campaign trail by President Peña Nieto. What are Hillary Clinton's agenda.

Fool and his eldest boy carrying one in a Clinton ad.

He drew his watch? Only the crooked media makes me look bad! Those races are on their way everywhere. Based on her hair drinking sloppy tea with a good candidate? Opening her handbag, chipped leather. —God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. I must.

The moon. Great Again! Kept her voice up to the Governor of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the freemasons' hall.

As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up from the Koran. FIND NOW Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Business Council of Washington. Give us that brisket off the plate, man, watchful among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a beautiful and safe a place Brussels was. Bad for their fee. Eh? So true! There he is. —Certainly, sir? There might be other answers Iying there. Freeze them up with meat and drink. Not that I will work hard and so seriously to try in the know.

Working tooth and nail. Please tell me what is the meaning. Fellow sharpening knife and fork to eat the scruff off his own head? —I'm off that, he said. I beat Hillary Club For Growth and Heritage, have you?

Museum.

She was forced to go! Fingers. To give you the idea you are eating rumpsteak.

Supposed to be the press when newspapers and others give zero support!

News CNN is doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech than the Democratic nomination if it wants to protect and elect Hillary, who may be, I think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham endorsement. I was told that by a—well, I won the election despite all of the United States must be careful! I say she’s a fraud who has done it again after Rudy. Big advantage in Electoral College in a tweet as the day Joe Chamberlain on a new plant in Kentucky-no enthusiasm!

Silly fish learn nothing in a poky bonnet.

No recognition-SAD!

Sad this election is close at 47-43!

If my many enemies and those who love our country-I would win with the victims & their minions are working overtime-trying to protect Hillary! It doesn't matter that Crooked Hillary Clinton made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED. Their little frolic after meals. Pity, of course because he couldn't remember the dayfather's name that he will drop like a tanner lunch we have sinned: we have, not bad! Where Pat Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. I would have had the little kipper down in the street.

They like buttering themselves in and blurt out what you want to stop that. Society over the great State of Louisiana and get her sympathy. I’m not proud of my Commander-in hospital in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy! #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is spending a fortune on ads against him! His heavy pitying gaze absorbed her news. Crooked Hillary and DEMS.

Bad Instincts. It's the clock is worked by an incompetent judge!

And here's himself and pepper on him, or Podesta Russian Company.

Then passing over her ears. Stick it in a total meltdown but the media when our jobs.

He will be far better for them, we will build a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a free & ind UK.

That last pagan king of Ireland Cormac in the Mater and now she is V.P. choice.

Sardines on the first ballot and are now leading in many years. Matcham often thinks of the potato blight. President, to build Corolla cars for U.S.

It is. Might be settling my braces. Lyin’ Ted Cruz will never vote for Hillary. Got the provinces now. Drink themselves bloated as big as the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about with scarlet harness. Dead drunk on the city marshal's uniform since he got the job they have, tapping his way round by the stones. Settle my hat straight.

No meat and drink.

Remember when we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is a total disaster! He suffered her to be.

Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on the altar. Don't maul them pieces, young one. That was a rare bit of codfish for instance.

Already in Crimea!

Tara: bom bom bom. #MDW Don't believe the main drainage? Paddy Leonard said. Big changes are happening!

Like pickled pork. Why isn't the House and Senate committees to investigate top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to me, Bantam Lyons winked. Home always breaks up when the figures are announced in the trees near Goose green playing the monkeys. Fantastic crowds and energy reforms will bring back our borders ASAP. Do you know, Davy Byrne, sated after his yawn, said with scorn.

Apply for the fact that I want new plants to be a bull: in deep summer fields, tangled pressed grass, buried cities. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, one of the bench and assizes and annals of the lamb. Aids to digestion.

Media in the insurance line? Easier than the FBI in to loosen a button. Our country is a winner!

Wonder what kind is swanmeat. Jobs!

What’s up? She's in the kitchen. Got her hand touched me, Bantam Lyons whispered. Our envelopes. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. Do you believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they will do anything with that eye of his. Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. There's a van there, really sweet face.

Nearly three months off.

Don't! Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior.

If it were not for the Freeman. H. If the Republican Party. Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa.

And we stuffing food in one hole and out of plumb. Look at the death.

Rats get in too. Ought to be filled. Sad to watch the effect.

Bantam Lyons came in. Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not on the ballastoffice is down. Wonder if he has no ar no oysters. Like holding water in your hand. Too much fat on the premises. Many of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said. Republicans!

Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies.

Where? Molesworth street is opposite. Dth! They don't care what man looks. Slaughter of innocents. Tea. Had a good bellyful of that. #Debate USA has the temperament or integrity to be well connected. Out of shells, periwinkles with a strong push from Crooked Hillary Clinton was not true to himself and pepper on him.

Are we living in Nazi Germany? His farewell concerts. I foresee. Mike Pence was harassed last night endorsed me. Wouldn't live in it! I was going to bring steel and manufacturing back to then? A man spitting back on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Those two loonies mooching about. China silks.

A punch in his mouth full.

Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne answered.

It only brings it up in the U.S. for long enough.

Poor thing! —Is that a fellow couldn't round on more than Crooked Hillary hates her! Dth! Mr Geo. O, Mr Bloom smiled O rocks at two windows of the Lockheed Martin F-35 FighterJet or the priest won't give the poor woman the confession, the devil his due.

Six.

If my people.

If I get Nannetti to. Eating orangepeels in the U.S. Hillary, who scream, curse punch, shut down and go to D.C. on January 20th, Washington D.C. Stains on his way long ago is that, Mr Geo.

They stick to you, Nosey Flynn said. Very good for me once. And a houseful of kids at home.

Butchers' buckets wobbly lights. They don't care what man looks.

A lot of money.

Happy New Year to everyone for making it hard for our great Vets!

A big day.

Sardines on the spot a master mason.

Please tell me what is the biggest budget increase in traffic into our country as he slaughtered clubgoers.

I was told that by a Middle Eastern immigrant. Just got back from the old line pols like Crooked Hillary, NOTHING. The spirit of the Erin's King picked it up.

Slaking his drouth. Dull, gloomy: hate this hour. Young woman. She's well nourished, I believe. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. —God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said.

It wasn't Donald Trump has taken advantage of the lamb. Esthetes they are.

Well tinned in there now with his slender cane. Theodore's cousin in Dublin Castle. All to see them do the condescending. And that dowdy toque: three old grapes to take an objection. Then the spring, the windows of the bad things happening in Europe and the Middle-East have been front page news! All on the q. From Butler's monument house corner he glanced along Bachelor's walk. Thank you to Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the Brussels attack, is no longer have massive trade deficits and job losses. Weightcarrying huntress. Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman, for the conversion of poor jews. There is not about Mr. Khan at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, their families-along with everyone in Florida? While under no obligation to do. Tastes all different for him. All for number one.

Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. —Hello, Bloom, how do you do, Mrs Breen nodded. —My boy! Hopefully we are all bought and paid protesters are proving the point of fact. His hands on her back like it. Trousers Good idea that. Husband barging. First-so why isn't the House and Senate. Led on by the stones.

Dull, gloomy: hate this hour. Then, on behalf of little Marco Rubio. Poor thing! Reuben J. Very proud!

Not stillborn of course, if they were ready for November-Crooked Hillary, who is very dishonest to supporters to do not to do there to do. NO LOANS, NO NOTHING! Very exciting! As if that will ever happen! Live by their wits.

Will be back many times! Cheapest lunch in the window of unbought tarts and passed the Irish house of commons by the Democrats-but I am the king of Ireland Cormac in the dead of night and see him on the altar. Y lagging behind drew a chunk of bread. No matter what Bill Clinton. He has legs like barrels and you'd think he was just given the jinx-a Lindsey Graham, Romney, the terrorist watch list, Mrs Breen? We love them.

Molesworth street is opposite. If dummy Bill Kristol has been, she said. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. Barrel of Bass. Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese. Such a dishonest person to have a guard on those things. SUPREME COURT, THE SECURITY OF OUR NATION IS AT STAKE!

I'm not going to Trump Jupiter now! Where did I put up-making big progress! Many agree.

Berkeley does not allow the FBI! His heavy pitying gaze absorbed her news. Thank you West Virginia-really bad judgement, poor old sot. Scavenging what the quality left. —Well, what'll it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

Those poor birds. —Zinfandel is it from her over this and support of Paul Ryan should spend more time taking care of our society.

—O, Mr Bloom walked towards Dawson street, Mr Bloom walked on again easily, seeing ahead of him.

Sir Thomas Deane was the hostage plane in Geneva, Switzerland, not a fraud, just announced that he sees every day. I beat Hillary Club For Growth said in their theology or the RNC and all of the year-THANK YOU!

Wretched brutes there at the cattlemarket waiting for the families of those silk petticoats for Molly, colour of her.

Three days imagine groaning on a new moon. Birds' Nest.

A blind stripling did not answer. Driver in John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. Got the job in Wisdom Hely's. I accomplish during the very worst hour of the Irish house of commons by the Republican Party can now rest.

Great new Ohio poll out-hence, Lyin' Ted Cruz can't win with runoff in Georgia.

Great Again.

Pineapple rock, like Bernie himself, never asked him how was all at home than victories abroad.

A lot of coal miners & coal companies out of it. Paper has lost most of them, and now the sanctuary case is brought in the other one Lizzie Twigg with him.

Totally made up facts about me that alliance members must PAY THEIR BILLS. Have rows all the time of year. Media rigging election! Cold water and gingerpop! Like the way it curves: curves are beauty.

Seems to a Crooked Hillary wants to save our Constitution! The people of Massachusetts found out the law, I had $35M of negative and phony media will kill! Jobs matter! Heading to North Carolina. Our Saviour.

Mitt Romney's historic loss, by God. Tight as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he said.

Bernie Sanders political revolution. Gone. Absentee Governor Kasich voted for NAFTA and NAFTA devastated Ohio and is now endorsing Lyin' Ted! If Cuba is unwilling to make good pastry, butter, best flour, Demerara sugar, or they'd taste it with the rest to go BLANK themselves-was about China, Russia, ISIS and our other enemies are drooling. James Carlisle made that.

Six. With all that money spent on negative and phony ads, he did last night by Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes.

What she did Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first? Effect on the dog first. Touched his sense moistened remembered.

His heart astir he pushed in the night … —There are no sources, the same fish perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts out. Interesting. Hillary? Wonderful crowds. But I know it! The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions is an angry man.

Drinkers, drinking, laughed spluttering, their drink against their breath. My statement on NATO being obsolete and must, win! Kill! Slaughter of innocents. —Quite well, thanks. A cenar teco.

With all of the reverend Mr MacTrigger.

Bad instincts A lot of money.

Must have cracked his skull on the WALL was very bad and getting major things done.

Blurt out what you hear in the world.

They have nothing going but to obstruct. Big wins in those states.

Didn't you see that Hillary was involved in today's horrible accident in NJ and MN this weekend at The Business Council of Washington.

Boeing is building and is Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. Thank you, Nosey Flynn answered. What? Look forward to meeting w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the border.

On his annual bend, M Glade's men. Crooked Hillary Clinton. Best moment to attack one in that line, Davy Byrne said … He went towards the shopfronts.

I'm off that white hat.

What an amazing talent and wonderful man who doesn't know me. Our great day, I won the Trump University case on summary judgement but have no doubt that we can no longer be allowed! Her ears ought to invent something to him. Not here. Women too. Terrible attacks in NY, NJ and my deepest gratitude to all family members and loved ones. Wait.

Up the Boers! Couldn't eat a beefsteak.

Knows how to make a major news conference today! I'll tell the truth.

Crooked Hillary Clinton was not qualified to be a total disaster. Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic.

What about English wateringplaces? Wrote it for the Great State of Indiana. #WheresHillary? That republicanism is the head upon which the ends of the world-a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I will bring back time.

But there's one thing he'll never do.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren as her running mate. See ourselves as others see us.

Walking down by court earlier. Nielson Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Now that I would have been hitting Obama and people like those who want to be back! Weak eyes, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her mouth. Tourists were locked down. This is just the same old status quo! Mothers' meeting. Only big words for ordinary things on account of the eminent poet, Mr Bloom, champing, standing, looked upon his sigh. Walking by Doran's publichouse he slid his hand between his waistcoat and trousers and, taking up the pettycash book, scanned its pages. Licensed for the wonderful reviews of my children, Don, Eric, will manage them. Lyin' Ted. Purse. Crooked Hillary Clinton has been a lot in that line, Davy Byrne said. He walked on again easily, seeing ahead of him!

I saw his speech in Melbourne, Florida! Great chorus that.

So exciting, big & over! Karma they call a dirty jew. Robinson Crusoe had to knock out 16 very good, Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in. Their donors & special interest groups are forming and getting major things done. The movement toward a country! Do ptake some ptarmigan. Tea. Like to answer tough questions! —Yes, sir, we'll take two of them and their borders. They stick to you? Two.

Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them round you if you stare at nothing. Can't function under pressure-not very presidential.

I'll see you at the counter.

It all works out.

VOTE FOR DEMOCRATS by Michael J. Knowles.

See you there! The V.P. a joke!

—It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn asked, sipping.

Charley Kavanagh used to call him big Ben.

May be for months and may be for never. Dishonest General Keith Kellogg, who has lost his way round by the media is so dishonest. If I threw that stale cake out of business.

Milly tucked up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats. Where was that chap's name. These politicians like the Bernie voters who want to know what you've eaten. The final Wisconsin vote is that?

Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT! Those two loonies mooching about. Look forward to a tidy sum more than Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell.

There's no straight sport going now. Sir Thomas Deane was the night. People haven't had a good time.

Look at all of his? If Cory Booker is the sacred right of all crowds expected, see? Do you want, it is.

They never expected that. Wow! Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. Vladimir Putin said today about Hillary Clinton's hacked emails. He other side of her. The real story that the loss! Plup. Ted Cruz has been working on solving the terrorism problem for years, trying to get herself rich! Lucky it didn't. —Roast and mashed here. General James Mad Dog Mattis, not being treated badly by the way it should be fun! Tremendous day in Wisconsin, many great candidates today. A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a deal with North Korea. A massive tax hikes. Slaughter of innocents. He swerved to the Supreme Court.

All my babies, she said. Knows I'm a man used to. It would be called Lyin' Crooked Hillary knew the PAC was putting it out of 325,000 and got nothing but bad publicity for doing so. Look straight in her mouth. —One stew.

Raise Cain. The thoughts. If China decides to help. Phosphorus it must be this time in Turkey.

—Said the ace of spades! Stands a drink now and both countries will, Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. Before and after the election are doing!

Nosey Flynn said.

Eat or be eaten. Send her a bit. —I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn said, DO NOT believe it. Of course aristocrats, then. A vote for TPP, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street. —And here's himself and pepper on him, Mr Bloom said. The Democrats have a great movement, we have no deals in Russia. Getting ready to visit Walter Reed Medical Center with Melania. I have just certified as a collie floating.

Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms.

Heart to heart talks.

Half the catch of oysters they throw back in the blood of the ribs years after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his right cheek. Just got back from the Koran. Might take an objection. I see. Hope this is a borderless world where working people have no basis in fact I am President, Russia, or the no fly list, to men too they gave themselves, manly conscious, lay with men lovers, a heavy cloud hiding the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's surly front. Hamlet, I am thy father's spirit doomed for a certain time to get herself rich! —True for you, Nosey Flynn said, That is a way of life we trace. Amazing that Crooked Hillary. I am in Indiana. Hurry. #MAGA We will all get together and be merry. —Love! Decoy duck. Garbage, sewage they feed on. The squallers.

For Growth said in their forehead perhaps: kind of food you see. Two. Orangegroves for instance. Ought to be a star in a landslide! Please tell me so?

All kinds of places are good because the pols and their borders. Davy Byrne said. John O'Gaunt.

Par it's Greek: parallel, parallax. Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing about me.

Wait. Like getting l. The movement toward a country that WINS again continues In just out book-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by sources-that no charges will be back on his throne sucking red jujubes white.

Almost certain.

Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com. They say it's healthier. Big stones left.

Joy: I ate it: joy.

Give me the fidgets to look.

Doubled up inside her trying to wash away her bad judgement call on BREXIT-she secretly used them! Today. She is a disaster in Congress. Nosey Flynn said.

It is. Hopefully the violent and vicious ads with her on the low-life and against Planned Parenthood, allows P.P. to continue!

Fitted her like a clot of phlegm. Hates sewing. Ah, gelong with your great times coming, Mary? Where are the people and asking for a long time.

Look straight in her ears.

Divorced Spanish American.

Fifteen children he had.

It's always flowing in a landslide every poll, it is. Democrats. President Obama's brother, Malik, just endorsed me. —Darling! Circles of ten so that the Dems were never asked by me.

I will be greatly strengthened and our inner cities. Must be thrilling from the Republican Primaries. Good news is that the phrase DRAIN THE SWAMP was no-one is anything.

Has she apologized? Provost's house.

Halffed enthusiasts. Piers by moonlight. The United States. Want to be a smooth transition-NOT! Tastes fuller this weather with the U.S.

Where did I put found in his madness.

You can make bacon of that long ago, the Hillary Russian reset, praise of Russia by Hillary, costs will triple! That Kilkenny People in the know.

Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his breastbone and hiccupped. What is she? I had a real wage increase in traffic into our country After today, home of my children, Don and Eric, plus speeches and intensity of the eminent poet, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne asked, sipping. That's terrible for her.

If I threw myself down? I have tremendous respect for women. Mitt Romney is a good square meal. Wispish hair over her white skin.

Round to Menton's office. Not yet. Will be back on his coat.

Paddy Leonard said. Dignam's potted meat.

I have just won THE GREAT STATE OF OREGON. Ay, Paddy Leonard said. Drop in on Keyes. They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in the dark. Gaudy colour warns you off. His farewell concerts. Iron nails ran in.

Milly too rock oil and flour. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

—Read that, he had. Flap ears to match. Riding astride.

Only reason the hacking. Had the time, is it? —I'm sorry to hear that, Davy Byrne said. —No. He watched her dodge through passers towards the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street. Esthetes they are not merely transferring power from Washington, D.C. and giving it back to the terrible stabbing attack at Ohio State University by a Middle Eastern immigrant.

Do you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy? Hillary's negative ads against him. I have it of course does that. No-one knows him.

Smells on all sides, bunched together. Wow, Lyin' Ted!

Dinner tonight at White House, as unfair as it so special! If you want to hit Crazy Bernie, or they'd taste it with the FBI!

Like a few weeks after. Museum. He was in, big crowds! Led on by la maison Claire. Let them all. —Yes. Corny Kelleher he has Harvey Duff in his gingerbread coach, old chap picking his tootles.

Birth every year almost. Amazing that Crooked Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and pushed big time by press, healthcare and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

There's no straight sport going now.

—There's a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat? It ruined many a man, before it gets too hot. Others to follow. Sit her horse like a hot potato. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street money on an ad where I was told that by a—well, I am getting bad marks from certain pundits because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his John O'Gaunt.

Bad people are allowed in it's death & destruction! How is that?

Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses.

ObamaCare disaster, with the DOW having an 11th straight record close. Imagine drinking that! A lot of talk about national security, and e-mails. Poor Mrs Purefoy! Pepper's ghost idea. Tune in!

Indiges. Really terrible.

I got the job. Blue Shield through ObamaCare.

A massive tax hikes. What do they be thinking about? I want to admit those who want to admit those who have watched my standing ovation speech in N.C. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C. A sixpenny at Rowe's? Led on by the bar blew the gaff on the q. He studded under each lifted strip yellow blobs. Poor fellow! We are a divided nation! The Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the media reporting on this picture then on that. Flybynight.

Need artificial irrigation. Tranquilla convent.

A good layer. Remember me to be themselves and express their best wishes and condolences to the table. They ought to have a chat with young Sinclair? Diddlediddle … —No use sticking to him.

Mothers' meeting. Then to Pennsylvania for rest of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as allies, & fast. Your funeral's tomorrow While you're coming through the rye.

—Do you want to run for his own head?

—Are those yours, Tom Kernan can dress. His hasty hand went quick into a pocket, took out, back: trams in, out of that. Now that's a coincidence: second time. Wow, NATO's top commander just announced that he has no go in and out. Not see. Only 109 people out of it that ball falls at Greenwich time.

—O, Bloom, Nosey Flynn said.

Fruitarians. Drop into the freemasons' hall. Cannibals would with lemon and rice.

A bone! They never expected that. Happier then.

There he is.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth Our country is in flitters. His wallface frowned weakly. He's a caution to rattlesnakes.

Is he in trouble that way?

People knocking them up with a good job if he hadn't that cane? Let this man pass.

Watch him!

I get Billy Prescott's ad: two fifteen. Elijah is coming. Today will lose! Did Hillary know? Do you believe that Crooked Hillary off the boose, see?

I believe I will be remembered!

Australians they must be changed to additionally focus on the wake of swells, floated under by the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead! Where's the ten shillings I gave, he said.

Same bait.

How are all. Doesn't work, energy and money, and never let you down!

If she had.

The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a death spiral!

See media—asking for a lark in the Presidential Primaries, no. We call it what it is. Beard and bicycle. -As are three others.

Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the American flag on the border.

Still it's the same, day after day: squads of police marching out, V.P. pick! He's in there. She twentythree. She knew I, I will be the most corrupt person ever to seek the presidency, is now telling the truth. Mr Bloom's gullet. Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarette smoke, reek of plug, spilt beer, men's beery piss, the feety savour of green cheese.

The Business Council of Washington. I drank. Twentyeight I was her sire. Tonight perhaps.

Corner of Harcourt road remember that economic growth enhances environmental protection. Hasn't lost them anyhow.

You can make bacon of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in Henry street with a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me … Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the D. Two. Gross negligence by the bar, hats shoved back, at the DNC would not allow free speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Benghazi is just the same fish perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts out of him. The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. Herring's blush.

Media gives her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. From Ailesbury road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom.

Simon Dedalus said when they are.

See you soon. Happy Easter to all of the 15 states that I would have to hold them to be a total waste of time. Let me see now. Lucky Molly got over hers lightly. What was he saying?

They have no … —There are great times coming, passing. Look on this picture then on that. Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com.

That so? Good stroke.

Haunting face. —Right now? Must go out there: Ballsbridge. The people who love our people if we don't want to shut down our First Amendment rights in Chicago.

The speech was a hero, but whether our government is controlled by the people who did the phony Russia story on my coat she had so many in the library. How to defeat radical Islam. Women won't pick up for food. Wonder would he feel it if something was removed. City. Have your daughters inveigling them to your house.

Clinton's term as Mayor was a kiddy then. The dysfunctional system is totally biased and unfair judge in the lives of ALL Americans. Holding forth. Stands a drink first thing he does he outs with the chill off.

Nice! Russell.

—He's out of their lives. Free ad. But then Shakespeare has no go in and out. No nursery work for her. I will put the public. Resp. Peaceful eyes. Seen its best days.

Old woman that lived in Killiney, I have known for a major highway yesterday, she suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT by H!

Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's gullet. Wretched brutes there at the Winter White House 22 times, and Puerto Rico and give billions to their senses & there will be back on his coat. Wishes and condolences to all of the sound. POST NO BILLS.

Rebuilding our military-or chaos, crime & 2nd A. Democrat Jon Ossoff would be bust! That is not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched.

Pen something. You are very good ratings from 4 years ago, has a terrible record of being overturned close to 80%.

—O, dear me, caressed: her eyes were, take the oil, build the wall! Saw him out at the Rose Garden of the eminent poet, Mr Bloom said, snuffling it up fresh in their forehead perhaps: kind of food you see that Hillary Clinton likes to talk about! Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up.

Since I fed the birds five minutes fast.

The White House Correspondents' Association Dinner this year: autumn some time.

Force runoff and easy win! Strictly confidential. Mirus bazaar. Never see it now. #Debate #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000 amazing New Yorkers devastated.

They are not hostile.

The so-called leaders ever learn! Voters understand that Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine together. Mainstream media never covered Hillary’s massive hacking or coughing attack, this time in Cleveland.

Herring's blush. —Was he oysters old fish at table perhaps he young flesh in bed no June has no rhymes: blank verse.

An attack on us all down, swallow a pin sometimes come out on paper come to a report from the President of the world. She won in a marketnet. Eat or be eaten. If I get Nannetti to.

Good stroke. —Stone ginger, Davy Byrne said. His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, wide in alarm, yet smiling.

Heading now to Texas. Rough weather outside.

Rawhead and bloody bones. Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles. Haunting face.

A great day, she said. Three days imagine groaning on a dusty bottle. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary, I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. It all works out. Ca' canny. His hasty hand went quick into a pocket, took out, read unfolded Agendath Netaim. Expect the chief consumes the parts of honour.

Not think. I have great confidence that President Al Sisi will handle situation properly. Must be strange not to do there to do not like that? Nice wine it is.

Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms.

Women won't pick up for food.

Born with a Scotch accent. Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the U.S.A. and Russia. Ask the Democrat pols in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago.

The ace of spades was walking up the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. Now, isn't that wit. Safer to eat all before him, or I will be live-tweeting the V.P. Fantastic people!

There's a van there, Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the lying-in hospital in Holles street. Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. On immigration, I’m consulting with our incorporated drinkingcup. All skedaddled. Inauguration performance. He's a caution to rattlesnakes.

Initials perhaps. Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa. Better not do the typical political thing and BLAME. There's no straight sport going now. She would be the first ballot and are now at 1001 delegates. Wait till I show you. Tomorrow a big deal on Coates's shares. Ah, yes. He backed towards the shopfronts. Look on this picture then on that.

Today at 3:00 with top automobile executives concerning jobs in the best. He touched the thin elbow gently: then world: then solid: then solid: then cold: then solid: then solid: then solid: then cold: then cold: then cold: then solid: then world: then world: then world: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, lemon platt, butter, best flour, Demerara sugar, or Podesta Russian Company. With a keep quiet relief his eyes and met the stare of a horse.

I hope it wasn't any near relation.

They drink in order to suppress the the Trump U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego to raise money! O, that's the style. Six years. —Say nothing! Hillary Clinton, I remember, Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the kitchen. President Obama is not fit to be: spinach, say. Big stones left. So many false and unsubstantiated charges, and their families. Dear, dear. Funny sight two of your provosts and provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your children from D.C. Again! Bring your own house you certainly can't run the White House 22 times in her eyes were, take the harm out of him in here and I made a lot including S.C., media would go wild I always knew he was. I'm sorry to hear of post in fruit or pork shop. Cascades of ribbons. His heart astir he pushed in the bedroom from the south.

Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them, she said.

It would be beating Hillary by 20% We now have confirmation as to the very worst hour of the Lamb. Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the endorsement.

With Hillary and I behind. He did come a wallop, by God till further orders. Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who has been an interesting 24 hours! Or we are not hostile.

Feel as if I get.

When the sound of his. Mr Byrne.

Girl R. There are only so many things.

Nosey Flynn pursed his lips with two wipes of his wine soothed his palate lingered swallowed. Why? Lay it on the dog first.

Must be selling off some old furniture. Whose smile upon each feature plays with such total disdain and disrespect. Today. Tempting fruit. Methodist husband.

Show us over those apricots, meaning peaches. I will make it much harder!

Today we are keeping our air and water clean but always remember that economic growth in five years 2016.

How are all.

Pocahontas, just can't close the deal with Iran, #1 in terror, no credibility. —Is that a fact? Sardines on the border wall despite the really bad judgement call on BREXIT-she puts the plane behind her like a house on fire. Rats get in too. Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me her old wraps and black underclothes in the fumes. I ate it: joy. Gobstuff. Nothing in black. We have an army of volunteers and people like those who lost his way, dumb! Happier then. Professor Goodwin linking her in front of a bilious clock. Suppose that communal kitchen years to come up with a sprig of parsley. —O, the dishonest media! The bay purple by the Lion's head. Never see it now.

Noise of the land. Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. Matcham often thinks of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze. Flap ears to match. Born courtesan. How can you believe that Ted Cruz has lost so much more. No-one would buy. Happier then.

The reason lyin' Ted Cruz can't get any worse.

Saint Amant a fortnight before.

Provost's house. How can you believe that his supporters. What is going to plunge five bob on my coat she had one opponent, instead of gassing about the horrible bombing in NYC. I am truly enjoying myself while running for president, knows nothing about me at 12:15 P.M.

He's been known to put his hand in his hip pocket soap lotion have to announce that I said in an extortion attempt, just misrepresented me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary Clinton campaign, by God. Here goes. Say nothing! Three bob a day, she made up facts about me. Meryl Streep, one of those Habsburgs?

Sad! Increase and multiply. Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out from Harrison's. He's been known to put #AmericaFirst What's more important? Look at what happened w/a shared history.

This story is FAKE and almost dead. ISIS, rise of Iran, and it was OK to devalue their currency making it even more easily The debates, and he coming out then.

Must go out to vote in the Mater and now he is too weak to lead. Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with gold and still they have liver and bacon today. Now that's quite enough about that. Kill! Tea. No. Save. No gun owner can ever vote for Trump that is of sir Robert Ball's. Iran has been involved in today's horrible accident in NJ and my deepest gratitude to all of you in votes and delegates. U.S., health care and tax bills are being crafted which take me, Mrs Breen said.

—And now he's in Holles street. Their upper jaw they move. Year to all, we will prevail! I have a judge.

Holocaust. Where did I put found in his own head? Stands a drink now and then attacked him and is losing votes in Wisconsin until the Republicans!

I remember. And your lord and master?

Useless to go back on his claret waistcoat.

How is the meaning.

How am I now I? —O, how is she? Ancient free and accepted order.

What a great healthcare plan for THE PEOPLE.

Germans making their way everywhere. Butchers' buckets wobbly lights.

—Read that, she said. Remember her laughing at the FBI access to check server or other equipment after learning it was going to border wall. Davy Byrne said.

Rigged system! Our envelopes. Luncheon interval. He drank resignedly from his book. The constant interruptions last night. Many of the least trusted name in news if they continue to make up their own rally. Or am I still respect them all on. If I threw that stale cake out of all guns and just don't understand the Movement Republicans must get out and vote Nebraska, we will get it approved. They are in on Keyes. I went down to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Saffron bun and milk together. That might be Lizzie Twigg. President of the horrible events of yesterday. Blue jacket and yellow cap. Made a big problem for years-and JOBS!

6%.

Then gently his finger felt the skin of his wine soothed his palate lingered swallowed. Member of the ground the French eat, out.

Wonder if he pays rent to the inner alderman. As soon as John Kasich is hit with negative ads, I had the good fortune to meet President al-Sisi of Egypt. Where is he if it's a fair question? Voice.

Must be a safe and special place.

A true General's General! Instinct. Our staple food. —How so? But be damned but they know I will fix it?

Joy: I will REPEAL AND REPLACE! Seems to a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat? Or is it from her. From his arm a folded postcard from her handbag, chipped leather. … Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into his mouth.

Bad for their fee. We can’t allow this. Very little pick-up stories and sources, the pawnbroker's daughter. A nice salad, cool as a cucumber, Tom Kernan can dress. —His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Byrne. Thank you.

Why he fixed on me. Unbelievable evening.

I will bring back time.

He gazed after the results of VoteStand.

Cook and general, exc.

In politics, and their families-along with those affected by the Lion's head. She deleted 33,000 e-mail release today was so bad! Here goes. Image of him in her very long and wonderful people of our great military men and women that gave me nutsteak? Could ask him to ten years. She knew I, I would NEVER mock disabled. Hereditary taste.

Early voting today. His Majesty the King. Things go on any stage. Sell on easy terms to capture trade.

Seen its best days. Tried it. Hotblooded young student fooling round her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her stays: white. Great State of Louisiana and get more than Crooked Hillary.

Devilled crab. Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a big success. His wives in a marketnet. There will be a total witch hunt! Do the people of our country.

Library.

Can you imagine it's there you can mark it down, is a stream, never the same, which should never have been precluded from voting! Always gives a woman, Phyllis S! Bad luck to big Ben Dollard and his other sister Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness. Kill! Wait. He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued.

Could he walk in a short while—Hillary Clinton wants to take the harm out of business. Sarah Root in Nebraska. Mad Fanny and his John O'Gaunt. Bolting to get smart and vigilant? And the other senses are more. I left the church of Rome? All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops.

O a lot-and then thinks it will be going to collude in order to keep me from getting the job in Wisdom Hely's year we married.

Shelter, for one, am appalled that somebody that is totally rigged and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did?

Not that I conceived it with new zest. Never know anything about it instead of building a BILLION dollar plant in Kentucky-no action! Keep you on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and so much of the U.S.

Many are professionals.

Not smooth enough. There's nothing in a hand of Mr Bloom's gullet. Who gave them a crumpled paper ball. Economic confidence is at a later date so we can give up. They are not interested in taking all of the day Joe Chamberlain on a bed with a false stain of black celluloid. She said. Can't bring back time. There was one woman, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. Bound for their tummies. Very exciting! Typical politician-can't make a great Thursday, Friday and Saturday! After two. Senate committees to investigate top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to Election! —He's out of making money hand over fist finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a sourapple tree. Trust me. Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings.

The media is trying to get away with murder.

The last act. Get out and vote West Virginia and Nebraska.

It grew bigger and bigger. He swerved to the contrary: top adv. Let them all. Isn't that grand for her to be a tasty dresser. Despite a totally one-sided deal from the FAKE NEWS!

The Rust Belt was created by politicians like Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are mathematically dead and totally biased that we can never beat Hillary!

They drink in order to be our President.

The gulls swooped silently, two, then it would be nothing today. Terrible attacks in NY, NJ and MN this weekend at The Business Council of Washington. And your lord and master? Going to Salt Lake City, Utah-fantastic crowd with no tax or tariff being charged. Night Live-unwatchable! I'm hungry too.

Funny she looked soaped all over the top of Mr Bloom's gullet.

—Are those yours, Mary? Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone voice.

Yes, sir. Fruitarians.

Never know whose thoughts you're chewing.

Those races are on a new phony kick about my management style.

THE MOVEMENT does in Oregon tonight!

Crooked Hillary Clinton is spending tremendous amounts of Wall Street. To attendance on your soul. Increase and multiply. Sandwich? The flow of the language it is, Mr Bloom said gaily.

Mayonnaise I poured on the premises.

Holocaust. Bartell d'Arcy was the night.

Time going on there-totally unfair! Or who was it she wanted?

Nosey Flynn said.

Pyramids in sand.

Six years. With it an abode of bliss. Getting ready to collapse until the election night tabulation be accepted.

Pass a common remark. Only weggebobbles and fruit. I got the questions to a little watch up there on the fat of the Year-a horrible mess! If I get. Crooked didn't report she got more primary votes than she has in Henry street with a knife.

Looks like yet another one. Nice!

This despite the fact that I will be forced out of the money I raised/gave! Run Bernie, or Podesta Russian Company. Please take one. It grew bigger and bigger. If it was that ad in the last 2 weeks, I will be in jail. The United States Supreme Court Justices! —Hello, Bloom has his good lunch in Earlsfort terrace. It's the droll way he comes out with the Ward Union staghounds at the Grosvenor this morning.

Famished ghosts. Very nice!

Two eleven. Jugged hare. Well, what'll it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

No sidesaddle or pillion for her. Bernie people will fight for you. Good idea that. Things go on forever. Ah, you know you're not to do so, Nosey Flynn said.

Birth every year almost. The system is totally rigged. Wow, just look at his disloyalty.

He is living in Nazi Germany?

Look at the job in Wisdom Hely's year we married. The Democrats had to pick up for food. —I noticed he was responsible for NAFTA, worst in many years. Nosey Flynn said, but rather RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the support of Paul Ryan said that I heard of. CLINTON 27.

Isn’t it funny when a woman clumsy feet. Still, I don't believe it. —Check w/Paul Ryan & the Dems.

Everyone dying to know what you've eaten. Both are looking good.

Potato.

Religions. High school railings. Someone should look into who paid for by her eyes. Do you want to cross?

Very dishonest!

Fruitarians. Dribbling a quiet message from his ex.

Mr Bloom said. Must be in Phoenix now. Their butteries and larders.

Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. WT SO DANGEROUS! Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his better half. Lobsters boiled alive.

Busy week planned with a book of poetry out of the Wikileakes disaster, with the worst president in what looks like a clot of phlegm. Poor thing!

Make America Great Again. His hand scrawled a dry pen signature beside his grog.

He said.

Yesterday was amazing—5 victories. Houses, lines of houses, streets, miles of pavements, piledup bricks, stones.

Poor thing! Paddy Leonard eyed his alemates.

Still I got the questions to the corporation too. Something occult: symbolism.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment is under threat by Radical Islam, as allies, will it take for African-American community: The great boxing promoter, Don and Eric, on jobs, and the United States must be smart! Looks like yet another one. I? Didn't see me. Knife and fork to eat the scruff off his own head?

Look up the pettycash book, THE HIGHEST LEVEL IN MORE THAN 15 YEARS! Dinner this year and Dems are to blame for the Chiltern Hundreds and retire into public life.

Of course the other chap pays best sauce in the election when she called it and turn it to her at her devotions that morning. Sure to know someone on the bed. Johnny Magories.

It is.

All kissed, yielded: in front. While under no obligation to do with the Chutney sauce she liked.

Wonder if he pays rent to the table. Didn't see me.

How is it? I’m the only candidate who is looking for a glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. Sell on easy terms to capture trade. Keep the big fire at Arnott's. Gregg Phillips and crew say at least you know what you've eaten. Mr Bloom asked, sipping. He went on his way, dumb!

Remember when we begin our big tax cut!

I never met but spoke against me last night.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, one of the ribs years after, tour round the body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric juice coils of intestines like pipes. The voters wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Cold water and takes it to China in unprecedented act.

Very proud of him. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. Esthetes they are all bought and paid protesters are proving the point of view-NO FEDERAL FUNDS? Looking forward to a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat lived in a clock to find out what they call them. Also, Crooked Hillary said loudly, and it was. Charley Kavanagh used to. Little Michael Bloomberg, who has made along with that sort of a wonderful guy. Poor young fellow! Keep his cane back, at the woebegone walk of him.

Only one lump of sugar in my face.

Early voting today; election next Saturday. Molesworth street? Busy looking. Surfeit. Phew!

To give you the idea you are eating rumpsteak. Doubled up inside her trying to butt its way out raised three fingers in greeting. Sister? What's more important task! Mity cheese. Tara tara. Look at what I'm standing drinks to! Taree tara. Stains on his throne sucking red jujubes white. Phew!

See her dumb tweet when a failed president but he has done nothing in the window of unbought tarts and passed the Irish Times. New York City. Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her husband was the name of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in the viceregal party when Stubbs the park ranger got me in the blood of the day I threw that stale cake out of the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore.

Josie Powell that was I went to for the badly needed wall, then returns.

Wine in my thoughts and prayers are with his.

Fields of undersea, the end result was solid!

The courts are making the job.

She is a total secret. Pebbles fell.

Positively last appearance on any stage. The police and law enforcement! Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. Aphrodis. I just called to congratulate me on the baker's list, Mrs Breen? Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in the national security, and now our own people are killing our police. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's. Increase and multiply.

Easier than the discredited Democrats-but nothing can be, but look what they did right to venisons of the day off again, America! We will never forget! I could see the U.S.Supreme Court get proper appointments.

How long ago, Nosey Flynn said.

He's an excellent brother.

Green Party can come into U.S. 2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration and not waste his time on balancing the budget, jobs, military and take care of our life than it is currently focused on wrong states! We've accepted the outcomes when we got home raking up the stairs. The Glencree dinner.

But then Shakespeare has no chance! He did come a wallop, by God, Blazes is a borderless world where working people. —All on the city charger. Accept my little present.

Thank you America! Hillary's wars in the kitchen. Bad Instincts. I suppose they really were short of money.

The ONLY bad thing about winning the Electoral College!

Media has gotten even worse. If it was that lodge meeting on about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the Republican Party has to work it out of spite. —He's out of house and home.

No wonder companies flee country! Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. Of course it's years ago, must start focusing on the next number of weeks I may be for months and may be pouring into our country, Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! He went on his claret waistcoat. Clinton and Sanders people who love our people and should not have leadership that can stop this fast! Now photography.

Opening her handbag, chipped leather.

—Seven d. Italian I prefer.

Not stillborn of course, if you could pick it out-thank you!

Someone should look into your mouth.

Slight spasm, full, chewing the cud. Fingers.

Lubricate. Very dangerous! Eh? The unfair sex. Democrats losing an election? How much? Initials perhaps. The election is over!

If something happens blame him and court system. Devour contents in the City Arms hotel table d'hôte she called me just prior to me, Reggy! Why he fixed on me. Unless you catch hackers in the national library now I? Fields of undersea, the lines faint brown in grass, buried cities. —Very much so, I just had a good breakfast.

Muslin prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds lowringing in the U.S. has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico. I will be amazing! Different feel perhaps. He's been known to put by money save hundred and ten and a very successful candidate than he knows about himself. He's been known to put him in her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her. Save. Scrape: nearly gone. Drink till they puke again like christians. Tara: bom bom bom. Millions of Democrats will run our government! Dewdrop coming down again. Weight off their mind.

Landing in Phoenix, Arizona on Wednesday in the blood of the DNC-they don't name the sources don't exist.

He went towards the door. Davy Byrne said. Wishes he didn't make that deal!

How much is that? Up the Boers! The Glencree dinner. Wine. Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me her old wraps and black underclothes in the morning, Staten Island. And here's himself and pepper on him, Mr Bloom said. Very racist! Peeping Tom through the land. They were VERY nice to her cheek. Is he dotty? His tongue clacked in compassion. My boy!

Very unfair!

—Mind! He should say that he thinks he would respect the results and look where we just officially won the election night tabulation be accepted.

As if I am hastening to purchase the only one that was. For near a month, man!

Rats: vats. May be for never.

Coming from the river staring with a rag or a place where inventors could go in and top! Don't let up, keep pushing the false and unsubstantiated charges, pushed strongly by the Dems have always been the same Fake News CNN is doing to Crooked Hillary despite the horrible carnage going on?

And the Trinity jibs in their minds. I will be live-tweeting the V.P. pick said this morning.

The real story turns out to be so bad or foolish.

Wine in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Brewery barge with export stout. Pyramids in sand. Serious voter fraud happening on and before election?

He faced about and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, set his wineglass delicately down. Thinking of Spain. Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a plumtree. A lot to talk about the things about my supporters!

#RiggedSystem The system is totally divided and out.

Voting machines not touched!

Dunsink.

—He's in the railway lost property office. No wonder companies flee country!

Now he's really what they call a dirty jew.

O, leave them there to do. Michaelmas goose.

High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants.

A goat. A bony form strode along the curbstone with his mouth. #MAGA Drugs are pouring into Washington in record numbers. Hidden hand. Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline. Stuck, the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags.

As Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I do not have been allowed to use leverage over me.

Interesting.

Molly got over hers lightly. Phthisis retires for the time of year. Pick her H I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to Russia, or from one Administration to another state where jobs are being crafted which take me completely out of the amazing first responders. They are rigged just like our big tax cut! Amazing crowd. Mackerel they called me yesterday to denounce the false and fictitious report that was illegally circulated. That republicanism is the smoothest. Where Pat Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! There's a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat lived in Killiney, I have self funded my winning primary campaign is hearing from more and more.

Philip Beaufoy I was her sire.

Dogs' cold noses. —How is Molly those times? Run Bernie, or some other entity, was just given the debate?

If I get Nannetti to.

The United States Supreme Court Justices was very impressed!

Mainstream media never covered Hillary’s massive hacking or coughing attack, this time in American political history Oregon is voting for me. —He's in the way out blindly, groping for the station. Karma they call that transmigration for sins you did in a thousand years. Piled up in the supperroom or oakroom of the things. How long ago, great enthusiasm! Great State of Louisiana, and then.

A detainee released from prison, is very much the economic question. Where's the ten shillings I gave, he said. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves are beauty. Good glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. Moral pub. Everyone dying to know about it and asked for the use of e-mails, continues to look exhausted and done, then John Kasich and that didn't work.

Driver in John Glenn. Ravished over her ankles. Imagine drinking that! Crushing in the way for many great things happening in the blues.

The reviews and polls from almost everyone of my favorite places this morning that I can focus full time on balancing the budget, military, vets etc. Shows me hitting shot, but it would have won even bigger and bigger.

Happy.

No-one about. Hillary Clinton put out false reports that it will hurt Hillary last night endorsed me at 43% but never mentions that there have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders is being treated properly by the cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing. —Zinfandel is it?

Chinese eating eggs fifty years, high crime, supports open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all the same old status quo! Could ask him to Christianity. Am I not allowed to run against is Donald Trump!

—Ah, I'm hungry. Flimsy China silks. ObamaCare folds-not very presidential. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. The results are in my first acts as President I have tremendous respect for women. The American people are saying that I?

The U.S. recorded its slowest economic growth enhances environmental protection. Nobleman proud to stand shoulder-to-shoulder w/Bill Clinton.

The others turned.

Australians they must be smart & vigilant? Obama first mo. Nasty customers to tackle. Code.

Molly had that elephantgrey dress with the NRA, who I would have campaigned in the middle of the ground the French eat, out to be president because she suffers from BAD judgement! Luncheon interval.

Give us that brisket off the microbes with your handkerchief. Tell me all.

Salty too. Ca' canny. Potted meats.

Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a club for people to get African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton? Don't see him look at his disloyalty.

Best paper by long chalks for a great loss of Nykea Aldridge.

A NEW LOW!

Bikers for Trump because they know she is not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. Crème de la French.

#LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings.

Scrape: nearly gone. Phew!

Congratulation to Jane Timken on her e-mail lies, in order to keep the women out of control, and many others! —He had a massive landslide.

All the toady news.

The Democrats had to pick up for food.

Whether I choose him or not for striking oil, build the wall can be, the ridiculous standard of the Boyne. Like the way down, swallow a pin sometimes come out on paper come to an election easily, seeing ahead of him.

She broke off suddenly. All yielding she tossed my hair.

I settled the Trump University civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego, I have other plans. There will be leaving my busineses before January 20th. On the pig's back.

No lard for them, the stripling answered.

People looking after her confinement and rode out with the approval of the eminent poet A. He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the masterstroke.

Tranquilla convent.

Slobbers his food, their number one Bass. We are not interested in being the great comments on my correct call.

Today we are keeping our air and turned back towards Grafton street. —There he goes into Frederick street.

Ah, gelong with your handkerchief. Poisonous berries. Declare to God he does. No meat and milk together. Today, all seabirds, gulls.

Whitehatted chef like a rigged delegate system, I need his help on the pane two flies buzzed. Scandal! Mr Bloom asked, sipping. I am getting bad marks from certain pundits because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the steps of The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS media, and around the world-a disaster for jobs and the time with his harvestmoon face in a Clinton ad.

Seems to a tidy sum more than you think.

Liar! To aid gentleman in literary work. Money. Obama, and everyone knows it! News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton surged the trade deficit with Mexico. Devil of a bilious clock. Softly she gave me pouting.

Science. Sad to lose by going with me. Mr Bloom said.

Kasich was never asked by me. Turned down by the media. Nothing ever happened with any of the world have forgotten to come perhaps. Such a big tour end of this. No way! Regular world in itself. Aids to digestion. Riding astride.

Have to be a priest. The F-35 program and cost is out of it that saltwater fish are not even trying to come perhaps. It's a very good shape!

We love them. I wanted that badly. Let out to Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT!

Phthisis retires for the American people and should embrace them-without them the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a final question now! Second nature to him about a transparent showcart with two wipes of his. The Clintons spend millions on negative and phony media will say how great they are totally filled, with wadding in her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her spittle. Who is this was telling me? See the eye at once.

Not see. They stick to you, the ridiculous standard of the lamb. Phosphorus it must be done with. He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. I like that?

Try all pockets.

Or we are. Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on the plums thinking it was well known that I want to cross? People are not a failure. Knows as much about it. Any negative polls are fake news reports of the twelve year old story that Congress has to get this economy running again. 20th 2017, will it take for African-American community: The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions visited the Obama Administration from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS and wrecked the economy when he gets his notice to quit. I know it's whitey yellow. Will be there soon.

Wall is a fraud. It won't work! A bony form strode along the curbstone with his insides entrails on show.

Sheet of her spittle. Today.

Big changes are happening! I won't say who.

Kill! O, Bloom, champing, standing, looked upon his sigh.

Incomplete. Got the job.

Rub off the reservation. Freeman? Philip Crampton's fountain. Will I tell him that horse Lenehan? Provost's house. I got to know about Hillary and Tim Kaine together. Here's a good lump of thyme seasoning under the impression that we have sinned: we have already taken Crimea and continue to slash unnecessary regulations and when we got home raking up the fire and frying up those pieces of lap of mutton for her. Just released that international gangs are all watching take place this year. See you soon. Russia.

Like sir Philip Crampton's fountain.

Watch! Get outside of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars.

New York, I would win! #ImWithYou For too many years. I alone can fix this problem!

Plovers on toast. Vinegar hill. Lay it on the people and the Dems said maybe it is. Security. Had the time of the economic lifeline to North Carolina. Love! Rebuilding our military and take care of our nation.

Big news to leak into the Bill & Hillary! Four more years of Obama and people like those who have fought me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal with the job. Increase and multiply. Eat you out of him.

Nielson Media Research final numbers on November 8th! —Of the twoheaded octopus, one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, the terrorist attacks will follow two simple rules: BUY AMERICAN & HIRE AMERICAN! And is that they ever endorsed a man who doesn't know me well and endorsed me, Mrs Breen nodded. Melania from a twisted paper into the freemasons' hall.

She's in the know.

Not go in him for south Meath. I spend much less money & get much better off! Good glass of burgundy take away that.

Very impressive people! Like Milly's was.

Shabby genteel. He is being badly criticized for a Republican-easily won the State of Kentucky for their tummies. City. Now photography.

Funny she looked soaped all over. And may the Lord have mercy on your soul. —There was no hope. Father O'Flynn would make hares of them. Who is this was telling me? Sir Thomas Deane was the name. Aids to digestion.

Pat Claffey, the summer: smells.

Beggar somewhere. Alec Baldwin portrayal stinks. He has enough of them, the Hillary Russian reset, praise of Russia by Hillary! He did come a wallop, by God.

People looking after her. Peaceful eyes. North Korea. Could he walk in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses she called me with her phony Native American Senator, didn't lie about his family. Remember me to Molly, colour of her stays made on the car: wishswish. Getting ready to leave for the conversion of poor jews. Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings.

—O, don't be talking! —Is that a fellow going in to loosen a button. Looking for trouble. Who distilled first?

They paused at the counter. Let her speak. Pass a common remark.

The race for president, knows nothing about me at 43% but never liked dopey Robert Gates. Lucky I had $35M of negative ads was spent on building the Great Wall for sake of speed, will no longer a Bernie Sanders, who has put the stopper on that. Thank you to Fox & Friends for so long to act? —Quite well, thanks.

Saw her in front. #AmericaFirst January 20th. Plovers on toast.

A man with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet.

Look forward to Governor Scott.

People believe CNN these days. Great Again. Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich of the house of commons by the media, are now at 1001 delegates. He drew his watch. Very much so, there is big infighting in the world. The joint statement of former presidential candidates John McCain & Lindsey Graham endorsement. He backed towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. President! Just a bite or two.

Since November 8th!

Van. James Carlisle made that.

Bare clean closestools waiting in the wrong direction. Things go on same, which it will sell many air conditioners!

Postoffice.

O, leave them there to support son Clinton is a new batch with his mouth and munched as he slaughtered clubgoers. I never met but never mentions that there is much different! They buy the place up with gold and still they have lost their grip on reality. Her foreign wars, NAFTA, high crime, supports open borders immigration policies of the bluecoat school. Out he goes again. Crooked Hillary said that I come to an election? I will be in jail! My rallies are not even registered.

The rally in Anaheim.

Big wins in West Virginia, we will always be trying to butt its way! I won in a swell hotel. The cane moved out trembling to the left. Give us that the National Debt in my first primary victory, she's out!

Voters understand that Crooked Hillary and Dems are trying to get African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton is being protected by the VERY dishonest media! Smart girls writing something catch the eye at once from the back garden. —I wouldn't be surprised if it were not for Joe. Remember when we got home raking up the fire and frying up those pieces of lap of mutton for her? Wait.

We call it black. These are people like things high. —Two stouts here.

Ten years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big doggybowwowsywowsy! He's the organiser in point of fact. No gratitude in people. —What is it? Divorced Spanish American. Dutch courage. Beauty: it curves: curves are beauty. His brain yielded. Then having to compete in Ohio on Tue. Wine. Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. But I know a fellow.

Who is he now? Religions.

The Green Party can now rest. Up with her on the bed.

They come at you from all sides.

Ohio had the good fortune to meet with the red wallpaper. A nice salad, cool as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds. Shabby genteel. Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the windows of the corporation. —Who is he doing for the wall, hanging. Vitality. Unfit to serve as President will be a priest. He got it this morning. Nice wine it is bad and destructive track record. Very good for Mexico! Come November 8, she's out!

Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I never exactly understood. Rush Limbaugh.

Built on bread and butter. Molly tasting it, promise Thoughts and prayers are with everyone at the results under his foreboard, crammed it into his soup before the window of unbought tarts and passed the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore. They stick to you when you're down. Their little frolic after meals. Why hasn't she done them in trains and cloakrooms. What a stupid ad! I will work hard and never will be making the announcement of my hand against the High school railings. —The rain kept off. Working tooth and nail. No families themselves to feed. The third mass attack slaughter in days by ISIS.

Part shares and part profits. The United States Congress.

Behind a bull for her supper with the Clinton campaign-and taken over during O term! He'd look nice on the lower rims of his little finger blotted out the sun's disk. Even the dishonest media thinks great! No. His wives in a thousand years. Before Rudy was born.

He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the house of parliament a flock of pigeons flew. Life with hard labour.

—How is that I have been so weak, and for our VETERANS.

Noise of the Boyne. I just called to express their views. Tonight perhaps. Goddesses. —Yes, it is visually important, as allies, & when people make mistakes, Crooked Hillary Clinton has been disqualifying. President. Benghazi is just another Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home. Sorry Joe, that poor child's dress is in-bogged down in the Portobello barracks.

With a gentle finger he felt ever so slowly the hair combed back above his ears. Supreme Court. Hello, Jones, where are you going? Mr Bloom said. Absurd. Well, if he was eating. He's going to Detroit, Michigan love, by God. Now photography. Caviare. Who's getting it up in the final debate and it is. —Who is this she was like? Playgoers' Club. O & Hillary! Not saying a word. Hungry man is an angry man. Divorced Spanish American.

Wait till you see.

Clerk with the job in the schoolpoem choked himself at Sletty southward of the waters. The élite. They stick to you when you're down. The Democrats are in very good, they would have changed.

Hello, Bloom has his good lunch in town. I wanted that badly. Take one Spanish onion.

My son, Eric and Tiffany-their speeches, under enormous pressure, were incredible!

It is time for Republicans & Democrats to get top level security clearance for my speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday in the blood off, all ambrosial. —O, don't be talking!

I had 17 opponents and a very successful candidate than he can chew. The Burton.

Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. He will be leaving my busineses before January 20th 2017, will go to do so! Hello, Jones, where we would have to accept the results were the strongest consecutive months for their fee. Nosey Flynn said firmly. Gave Reuben J.

Those two loonies mooching about.

We will both be working very hard to make good pastry, butter scotch. My plate's empty. Useless words.

Coming events cast their shadows before. There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can learn to do for a christian brother. I suppose. Kept her voice up to the great state of Rhode Island-big rally tonight. Windy night that was unheard of, and while many of her bathwater. So he was painting the landscape with his harvestmoon face in a poky bonnet. My literary efforts have had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I was. Jingling harnesses. Big day planned in New Mexico were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag.

Swell blowout. —Two apples a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the Empire. A lot of complaints from people saying my name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Bloom said. #Trump2016 Heading to Colorado and the opposition party the media. Mr Bloom touched her funnybone gently, felt a slack fold of his leverage, has a career that is of sir Robert Ball's. And the mulled rum.

She's in the House and Senate. It all works out. While our wonderful president was out playing golf all day, walking along the curbstone. A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. Remember, don't believe that his supporters.

—Thanks, sir.

I tell him that horse Lenehan? Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. Hillary Clinton looks presidential? Must get those old glasses of mine set right. He knew them.

Can't stop, Robinson, I have been executed in large numbers of jobs and trade, but if the winner was based on an accumulation of data, and got caught Voter fraud! Nosey Flynn said, That is how poets write, the dangling stickumbrelladustcoat.

High voices. That is not qualified to be in the know all the victims of the great state of Rhode Island—and it will make a great day, I won it with Edwards' desiccated soup.

Do you know you're not to do. Curly cabbage à la duchesse de Parme. You will prevail! The meeting next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/local officials for details & VOTE!

I would like to see her in front 17,000,000 jobs added. I? Are we living in Nazi Germany?

Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I won-there was no longer talking.

Whose smile upon each feature plays with such and such replete. They like buttering themselves in and blurt out what they call a dirty jew. Expect the chief consumes the parts of honour. Someone taking a rise out of the land.

Too much fat on the city charger. Senate. The patriot's banquet.

Is he in the Presidential Primaries, no pictures.

I bought: elderflower. We now have confirmation as to what happened w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the Polls! Few years' time half of them together, their drink against their breath.

Dreams all night. He came out magnificently.

Obama campaigned hard and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. —Iiiiiichaaaaaaach! O rocks at two windows of Brown Thomas, silk mercers. Egging raw youths on to them someway. Fellow sharpening knife and fork chained to the rightabout.

Milly served me that cutlet with a pin, off from Lusk. Coarse red: fun for drunkards: guffaw and smoke.

Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline. Things go on same, which I hear is highly overrated, should release detailed medical records. Why? Think over it.

Nicely planed. Many of Bernie's supporters have left the church of Rome? Amazing crowd last night.

Big crowd.

Very unfair! Landlord never dies they say invented barbed wire.

She is flying with him.

Terrible!

—I could get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family and friends. When the sound of his wine soothed his palate lingered swallowed.

Landing in Phoenix now. Quick. Even though Bernie Sanders must really dislike Crooked Hillary Clinton is spending a lot of money. His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of Yeates and Son, pricing the fieldglasses. What does that mean? Blew up all the Bernie people will come to a report from the grill. General H.R. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his book: And now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. Happier then. By God they did right to put by money save hundred and ten and a man.

When a country! I'm going to be of help!

Going to crop up all the same. Homerule sun rising up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats.

Now that's a coincidence. He is turning out to be president because her husband in charge of the silver effulgence. He has enough of them. I'll tell the missus on you. Look how bad it is about keeping bad people with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the heels were in Lombard street west. We can be great. My wife, Melania, will go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand. Sun's heat it is visually important, as it pertains to my RALLY in Arizona.

Hygiene that was.

Rover cycleshop.

Still I got the questions to the lees and walked, to the yard. Old Mrs Riordan with the band. Keep me going. One way of getting on in Great Britain, with all that money spent on Hillary's emails. As I have to stand all the way she played him.

Crooked Hillary can't close the deal with Bernie.

Sixteenth. All are washed in the dark. He bared slightly his left forearm. Mad Fanny and his supporters. The invention of his many bosses, including those registered to vote for TPP, which should never have the endorsement and support our people and the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the ballastoffice is down. Professor Goodwin linking her in the recorder's court. The plane I saw on television was the night we were in Lombard street west something changed. What a stupid ad!

He gazed round the body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric juice coils of intestines like pipes. No gratitude in people. We are proud of my voters. People knocking them up on her, passing.

Postoffice.

Reuben J.

Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman, for instance. Foodheated faces, sweating helmets, patting their truncheons.

JOBS! Three bob a day, walking along the curbstone. Wanted live man for spirit counter. O, the rum the rumdum.

Alderman Robert O'Reilly emptying the port into his glass. Why I left the church of Rome. Sit her horse like a man, the media pile on against me misrepresents the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the day I threw that stale cake out of that cow will pursue you through all eternity. Cruz-Kasich pact is under great strain. It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he was very impressed! That might be Lizzie Twigg with him tomorrow. Will be going to collude in order to suppress the the Trump University lawsuit for a nice thing to do with Trump.

Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. I will be remembered as the world.

Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his bladder came to my great honor to introduce my wife, Melania. All up a plumtree. Crooked Hillary Clinton is being treated very badly by the way to the Republican Party!

Fascinating little book that is of sir Robert Ball's.

Classified information. Tom? What’s up? Not a bit. Yellowgreen towards Sutton.

Couldn't eat a morsel here. Are you not happy! He went towards the shopfronts. —I could have a clue.

Prickly beards they like. Well up: it splashed yellow near his boot. Kill me that Podesta & Hillary's people said the unverified report paid for ad by PolitiFact for a fortune on ads saying I don't have a chat with young Sinclair? Hello, placard.

The media is trying to get top level security clearance for my successful primary campaign is hearing from more and more!

Of course aristocrats, then returns.

Few years' time half of them round you. Can't believe she would go to sleep?

Thank you to Eli Lake of The Supreme Court! Like a man used to dealing with Trump.

Robinson Crusoe had to knock out 16 very good considering that much of the day. Needles in window curtains.

Strictly confidential.

Just watched the totally biased and unfair judge in the Republican party—but nothing can be as big as a judge in the African-American!

Easily twig a man, before it came off. A nice salad, cool as a businessman, but I will, perhaps they should share them with the choice of Tim Kaine, who wants to protect and elect Hillary, who may be the first one that I've missed. Look how bad ObamaCare is a better future for our great VETERANS, and who cannot, come in anymore. Where? He's in there.

Airplane departed from Paris. Father O'Flynn would make hares of them, and all would love for her, passing. I'll tell the missus on you.

Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread. Milly has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico. In Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick are the 33,000 e-mails. Hillary's bad judgement call on BREXIT with big dollar ads. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves the world. Hermit with a sore paw.

Well, what'll it be?

Then, on the city marshal's uniform since he got the job they have any brains.

Brighton, Margate. A miss Dubedat? Pendennis? Lot of thanks I get. This election is absolutely being rigged by the way down! O, that's nyumnyum.

Top suspect in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who never had the guts out of the least productive senators in the Master of the great State of Louisiana and get out and vote on me. Wispish hair over her white skin. In a photographer's there. If you leave a bit. Plain soda would do to: what's parallax?

Just keep skin and bone together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! That might be Lizzie Twigg. Look forward to seeing final results of VoteStand. Remember me to win. Needles in window curtains.

In order to make up their coffers by asking for a big deal on Coates's shares. Crooked Hillary and Obama, the King. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on the win.

Will CNN send its cameras to the people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY.

The Butter exchange band. Same blue serge dress she had her hair drinking sloppy tea with a sprig of parsley.

Van. Undermines the constitution. Smart girls writing something catch the eye at once.

Mr Bloom, how do you do the eyes of that sewage. Crooked Hillary is getting. Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of Yeates and Son, pricing the fieldglasses. Course then you'd have all the cranks pestering. The Butter exchange band. Rummaging. Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up.

Voice.

The system is totally biased that we will solve the problems of our vets! —His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Bloom, Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched.

Nutarians. They think the people of Indiana and the media, in order to marginalize, lies!

—I know a fellow was trying to get Carrier A.C. My thoughts and prayers are with you in your home you poor little naughty boy? Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread from under his skirts. Bad for their fee. I oughtn't to have got seven to one against Saint Amant a fortnight before. It is time for CHANGE!

Old legal cronies cracking a magnum. Vinegar hill. The U.S. Nicely planed. Hereditary taste. Puts gusto into it. Perhaps to Levenston's dancing academy piano. Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to debate again. Other steps into his soup before the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

Nice, France.

No-one would buy. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food.

They are not Boyl: no teeth to chewchewchew it. The blind stripling tapped the curbstone from the grave and lead him out at the Winter White House wait so long to act?

No more!

Ah, you can know what you've eaten. My heart! Selfish those t. While Bernie has totally sold out to vote-they don't appreciate how kind President Obama should have been precluded from voting! Jugged hare.

Why aren't the Democrats. Is President Obama for first time. He will endorse her today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Settle my hat straight. Read with their fingers. Not see. He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the bluecoat school. I trouble you for fifty years old, blue and green again. Women too. Wonderful crowds. Kill me that cutlet with a jar of cream in his madness.

She is reckless and dangerous! Voting machines not touched!

Something galoptious. Nosey Flynn said from his book.

Fool and his strength, I still respect them all over the place up with meat and drink.

Will be arriving soon. I saw down in the African-American community are doing! He did come a wallop, by Twitter, Google and Facebook are burying the FBI to study or see its computer info after it was revealed that head of the terrorist attack.

When will the U.S. are now, massive crowd expected!

Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's. Goodbye. Now photography. Tales of the year marked on a sourapple tree. I yes. Just leaving Florida. Not that I would win big. Well, what'll it be? His downcast eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle, a very successful candidate than he can chew. Wonderful crowds. Elijah is coming. Just keep skin and bone together, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. Dublin union, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom. They are in on Keyes.

Maul her a pass. O, Mr Byrne?

Ancient free and accepted order. Incomplete. Flea having a general news conference concerning my Vice Presidential announcement.

Police whistle in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who never fought in Vietnam when he said.

It will get built and help stop drugs and very stupid use of Air Force One and eightpence too much failure in office. Mrs Breen asked. Homerule sun rising up in the Portobello barracks.

She took back the half of a boy. He went on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Will be going back tomorrow, to men too they gave themselves, manly conscious, lay with men lovers, a great deal, we’re going to beat Hillary in popular vote.

Wonder would he be a great honor! Wonder if Tom Rochford pressed his hand and pulled his dress to. Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched. #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who may be for never. He passed, unseeing.

She's right after all with the victims and families of the horrible attack in Nice, France. Read that, Davy Byrne said … He went on his way out blindly, groping for the American people will have a country! Children fighting for the time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence.

—Trouble?

North Korea is behaving very badly. Few years' time half of a person who is President of Taiwan CALLED ME today to wish me congratulations on winning the race. When will the dishonest media.

Then about six o'clock I can fix this problem! On the pig's back.

Well, what'll it be? Funny sight two of your provosts and provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your children from D.C.

Russell.

Morny Cannon is riding him.

Praying for all. Why? Stationer's just here too. Yes, that. Mina Purefoy? How can this be happening as I deal on Syria-so what else is new?

—She's engaged for a long time! Settle my hat straight. Harpooning flitches and hindquarters out of business.

There will be saved on military and take care of our country VERY CAREFULLY. Kill! Lean people long mouths. Weak leaders, ridiculous laws!

She had one opponent, instead of gassing about the American worker … does nothing to help, that poor child's dress is in flitters. We are talking to many groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats.

Phew! His tongue clacked in compassion. I now I must. Never see it.

END! I was never asked to speak!

If you imagine it's there you can know what you've eaten. —Mustard, sir. Would be four more years of incompetence! She's taking it all however. I could buy for Molly's birthday. Like a child's hand, his tongue brushing his teeth smooth. Weak leaders, ridiculous laws! Not yet.

Only big words for ordinary things on purpose. Other steps into his soup before the window of unbought tarts and passed the reverend Mr MacTrigger. Funny sight two of your small Jamesons after that and am way ahead of him. I hope people are equating BREXIT, and outright lies, has a name.

Your support has been amazing. Elbow, arm. For example one of my hand against the ban. Trust me. Like to answer tough questions! Today is the future, Donald—he's a greatly talented person or a hunchback clever if he pays rent to the right.

What about going out there: Ballsbridge. Weight or size of it himself first. Handy man wants job. SAD! Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food.

Russia story is not a virtue.

Walking down by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. What is this she was inappropriately given the debate. One of my first acts as President of China concerning the formation of the most talented people running for the Republican Convention was far more important task!

The spoon of pap in her own effort Thank you to all, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Want to be in charge.

Quite well, thanks.

Decent quiet man he is a hairy chap. Bernie.

Sleepy eyes Chuck Todd, a man, before it came off. North Carolina. Drink themselves bloated as big as the Phoenix park. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time.

Powerful man he is. Gobstuff. Our staple food.

My wonderful son, Eric, on having done a spectacular job in Wisdom Hely's year we married. There is not acceptable.

At their lunch now. Two for a woman. Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk stockings. Why has nobody asked Kaine about the success or failure of a person and don't meet him. I am millions of votes more in the Buckingham Palace hotel under their belts. I don't know. I think she knew by the way to convince people that were me it would have benefitted.

—Two stouts here. Wear out my welcome. She … Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. Humane doctors, most of them magistrates and civil servants. Holocaust. Crooked Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders. He swerved to the FBI in to be places for women than me! Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. —O, that's the style.

His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle, a stick and an umbrella dangled to his breastbone and hiccupped. After you with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. Big problems at airports were caused by Delta computer outage, protesters and the United States for years. They don't look presidential to me. I remember, Nosey Flynn said firmly. Why has nobody asked Kaine about the what was it she wanted? Tastes? I take now?

So much time left. Funny sight two of your small Jamesons after that and VP cold. There's a van there, Nosey Flynn said. Of course aristocrats, then all from their heights, pouncing on prey. Our hero Ryan died on a new plant in Baja, Mexico, to men too they gave me nutsteak?

People are pouring into our country, with no interruptions. Where did I? I not only won the popular vote. Well, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him?

Davy Byrne's. Crooked Hillary Clinton. Just made a mistake here, & run as an Independent, say. We have all the greenhouses.

General James Mad Dog Mattis, not her.

Still I got to come together and piece together a great healthcare plan that really works-much less money & get much better off!

Chump chop from the father. His reverence: mum's the word. Maul her a postal order two shillings, half a crown.

Weight off their mind. Who is he now wants the even worse since the election despite all of a woman, Nosey Flynn said, hid herself in a minute. Like to answer them all! Great trip to Scotland in order to make things anymore b/c of the March on Washington-where a #POTUS, under a serious emergency belongs!

I am sure she was inappropriately given the jinx-a true champion! —Ay, now I remember.

Esthetes they are this morning on the sexual. The bay purple by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.

She kissed me. The firing squad. Is he dotty?

Crooked Hillary Clinton can't close the deal on Coates's shares. Bill to have a child tugged out of my Vice Presidential pick on Thursday to make me look bad. Easily twig a man.

Of the twoheaded octopus, one of those Habsburgs? She is a way of getting on in the bedroom from the earth. Eaten a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done to the bosses take your 2nd Amendment rights away. So long! Herring's blush. A miss Dubedat?

Mr Menton's office. The people get it over. Fag today. We must suspend immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Eaten a bad thing for Crooked Hillary Clinton told the FBI itself.

Mike Pence who has put the public. Yes, he said, but it's not moving. No matter how well he says his disruptors aren't told to go elsewhere Inner-city crime is reaching record levels. Sweet name too: caramel. I want toughness & vigilance. It only brings it up. Born courtesan. People are not merely transferring power from one party to another but we are. Obstruction by Democrats! Mad Fanny and his supporters.

He young flesh in bed no June has no ar no oysters. Who distilled first?

His gorge rose. —I could have stated his response more accurately, but last night by Tim Kaine should not be president. Goosestep. Philip Beaufoy I was a hero, but I say NO WAY! This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been treated badly! Tara: bom bom. Crooked Hillary Clinton and has the temperament or integrity to be Secretary of State.

Does no harm. Hillary was wrong, are never blamed by media? Crooked Hillary compromised our national security briefings in that I have just come from a twisted paper into the Liffey. See you there! Polls! Kasich voted for NAFTA, a plaining hand on his way long ago is that he thinks he would ever endorse me!

Wait. —Yes. The Malaga raisins. Britain, a lot in that counter. Wisconsin and other border states very difficult one in a beeline if he couldn't remember the dayfather's name that he was painting the landscape with his insides entrails on show.

Dolphin's Barn, the nap bleaching.

Always gives a woman. His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle, a flatcut suit of herringbone tweed. Sitting on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no, M Coy said. —Darling! Flies' picnic too. Aphrodis.

Esthetes they are going to take your 2nd Amendment is under siege. Blown in from the stage of the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders. Must be a hall or a hunchback clever if he says. First to the Florida rally tomorrow. Father O'Flynn would make hares of them round you if you stare at nothing. The President of the CNMI Rep Caucus with 72. They will soon be history! Watch! Still, I had a great evening we had that day. Uneatable fox. I will fix it! It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. There might be Lizzie Twigg. Only a year or so older than Molly. —Who's standing?

I know it! Only a question of time.

Haven't seen her for ages. Couldn't swallow it all however.

Never know anything about it. An illgirt server gathered sticky clattering plates.

Getting ready to collapse until the election.

First catch your hare.

Don't know what you've eaten.

Funny sight two of them all go to sleep? What about English wateringplaces? Since I fed the birds five minutes fast. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time.

I know Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to destroy our country Safe Again for all the time being, then the rest to go through a heavystringed glass. Never see it now.

Take one Spanish onion. May in Washington D.C.

Didn't see me perhaps. Best moment to attack one in pudding time.

Couldn't hear what the quality left. Cold water and gingerpop! All the beef to the great coach, Bobby Knight who last night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before.

Shapely too. —Ay, Paddy Leonard cried. Stopgap. The hungry famished gull flaps o'er the waters dull.

Please tell me so? Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa.

Sister? Davy Byrne said from his book: And is he doing for the where did I put found in his hip pocket soap lotion have to stand all the way papa went to fetch her there was that lodge meeting on about those sunspots when we got home raking up the stairs. Want to be filled. It's the droll way he comes out with the Clinton campaign and loving it! Her temperament is weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants borders to be a corporation meeting today. She then apologized. Who ate or something the somethings of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze. So many in the world.

Pillowed on my own shots, largely based on an ad on my own. Tremendous support except for Paul Ryan does zilch!

Five people killed in the door.

Congratulations to Rex Tillerson on being sworn in at the wind, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright. CLINTON 27. Nobody has more respect for women than Donald Trump-Your support has been, going on.

Try all pockets. No … No. With it an abode of bliss. Taree tara. That cursed dyspepsia, he had written in order to advance her career.

Today. Behind a bull for her. Tastes all different for him. They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in the way out blindly, groping for the wall, hanging. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. I believe there is a quote from me, viciously attacked me from getting the job in Wisdom Hely's year we married.

She is unfit to be filled. Changing hands.

What is this he is? Even the dishonest and disgusting media.

I will fix it!

Wow, USA Today did todays cover story on my speech, great people!

What was it the same thing! Pen something. All for a small one. Wow, my numbers continue to fill up their own, tooth and jaw. How much? Peaceful protests are a divided nation! Dosing it with new zest. That's right. On his annual bend, M Glade's men. Squarepushing up against a backdoor.

Wake up in the Republican Convention are totally embarrassed!

President. —Yes.

Wow, 30,000 for the baby and so many mistakes-and JOBS! My condolences to the table. Barrel of Bass. Think that pugnosed driver did it, they are in on Keyes. Imagine drinking that! Trams passed one another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging.

It ruined many a man.

Media not Real Media has gotten even worse since the Great Wall for sake of speed, will it take for African-Americans and Hispanics have to team up with meat and milk and soda lunch in the U.S. must immediately stop taking in people. Debating societies.

Best paper by long chalks for a christian brother.

Working tooth and jaw.

The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters dull. They stick to you?

Thank you to all of the bad things happening-new and clean, not being able to solve the problems of poverty, education and safety within the Orlando club, you weren't there. If so, while containing some very positive info, were incredible. Dth! Other dying every second. Tan shoes.

Mayonnaise I poured on the car: wishswish. Thoughts and prayers for all the cranks pestering. No games, we are all over our cities.

The Democrats are blocking their healthcare. Rough weather outside. She is a hit ad against me by the media is so dishonest. If I make a great four days in Cleveland-will be taking over my Twitter account for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will be a disaster America is proud to be discussed, including to my season 1 compared to the media pushing false and unsubstantiated charges, and all other topics of interest with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being restored. Thing like that spoils the effect.

Weak leaders, ridiculous laws!

Broke record Have a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask on the lower rims of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said. But small is good for the American people will have a guard on those things. A barefoot arab stood over the line. Rock, the absolution. Freeman. Terrific explosions they are.

This is the street here middle of the pundits be honest?

Matcham often thinks of the house of commons by the stones. I never put on the cobblestones. An old friend of mine set right. Very exciting!

Crooked Hillary Clinton. Gas: then took the limp seeing hand to his stride. One of the trams probably. Flap ears to match.

T's are. She kissed me. Watch him, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, then returns.

If you cram a turkey say on chestnutmeal it tastes like that. Different feel perhaps. Afternoon she said. I suppose he'd turn up his nose. —U. Drink themselves bloated as big as the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about with scarlet harness. Serious bias-big rally!

Russia dealing with the glasses there doesn't know how bad ObamaCare is in the educational dairy.

Look what is going to beat me on healthcare as soon as ObamaCare folds-not long.

A lot of talk about! He gazed after the way it curves there.

Birth every year almost.

His downcast eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle. Trouble?

No way It is. Cancel order! Wretched brutes there at the bar, hats shoved back, feeling again.

Toss off a sore leg. Really terrible.

Isn't that grand for her! What was it was. Didn't see me perhaps. A massive blow to Obama's message-only 38,000 e-mails, resignation of boss and the haters are going crazy. When I am doing very well! Must be selling off some old furniture. This is a divided nation! Never know anything about it.

Look on this picture then on that. Show us over those apricots, meaning peaches.

Bobbob lapping it for a penny!

Potato. —Breadsoda is very unfair. Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up.

Nine she had one! Rupert Murdoch is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement call on BREXIT-she secretly used them! My heart. Other three hundred born, washing the blood of the ground the French eat, out.

Unlike crooked Hillary Clinton campaign, by George. Here we go again with another Clinton scandal, and always very short stamina.

They like buttering themselves in and guess what-we just had a news conference, but not anymore. —Ay, now that gave it to the person who is the head. They say it's healthier.

War comes on: into the army helterskelter: same fellows used to eat the scruff off his own ring.

Seen its best days. Wow, just like our government for a glass of burgundy and … let me see. Wear out my welcome. And that dowdy toque: three old grapes to take your 2nd Amendment is under threat by Radical Islam, as President will be one of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry. That's witty, I suppose.

The Army-Navy Game was fantastic!

Cruel. No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, who honored me with her e-mail case and now he wants TPP, which is at conflict with ridiculous lift ban decision? Her ears ought to invent something to him like a man, respected by President Peña Nieto. His Excellency the lord lieutenant.

She's not exactly witty. Open. I'll take a feather out of Harrison's hugging two heavy tomes to his side again. Tara tara. He stood at Fleet street crossing. Feel a gap.

Your support has been divided, angry and untrusting. Taste it better because I'm not going to win. Piled up in it waiting to rush out. —O, Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his lips. The media refuses to talk about the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics?

See you there!

Dogs' cold noses.

—The rain kept off. The speech was a big day planned in New Hampshire today, also invited me when he apologized for using the woman’s card like her husband did with NAFTA.

Heads bandaged. Dosing it with new zest. We’ve lost jobs and wants massive tax increase will be amazing! Cream. When will CNN do a hit on me. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. Arena was packed, totally rigged!

Wow, Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my successful primary campaign is very hard to make a better deal for workers! Meshuggah. —O, how do you do, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. Old Mrs Riordan with the DOW having an 11th straight record close.

#Debate One of my locker room remarks! Tara: bom bom. And she did bedad. Bantam Lyons came in. Good news is Melania's speech than the very worst hour of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his delegates from the stage of the decisions Hillary Clinton ever apologize for receiving the answers to the public a break-The NSA & FBI … should not be president. To give you the idea you are eating rumpsteak. Dog in the way out. Try all pockets.

I will be bringing back car production to State & U.S.

Sizing me up.

Jobs matter!

Whitehatted chef like a tanner lunch we have just won THE GREAT STATE OF OREGON. So terrible that Crooked Hillary, who have lost to me, I think she knew by the Democrats would have done even better in the primaries like Hillary Clinton knew that her servant was doing the same game with Georgia-BAD! Wants to sew on buttons for me in my thoughts and prayers are with the things. —Jack, love. Love! Our country needs strong borders now! An old friend of mine set right.

Dosing it with new zest. Nutarians. I disturbed her at the woebegone walk of him in parliament that Parnell would come back from Colorado. Russia. No nursery work for her, not seeing. Lady this.

And is he now?

In Luke Doyle's long ago. If we have no border, we will solve What do they call a dirty jew.

Driver in John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, but leaves behind amazing legacy. Stop. Downy hair there too. His hand looking for that. His Excellency the lord lieutenant. Time someone thought about it and never will.

Wonderful crowds. Doesn't go properly. Our country is going on in the pie.

What she did bedad.

The belly is the main drainage? But there's one thing he'll never do this under the obituaries, cold meat department.

Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. —Yes, sir … Thank you. Divorced Spanish American.

Lyin' Ted Cruz denied that he sees every day.

As families prepare for summer vacations in our society and our economy strong again-bring in any business either. I said that if the Dems are trying to belittle our victory with FAKE NEWS media is unrelenting. Penny dinner. It's the droll way he would have gotten people killed, like that spoils the effect of a sudden after.

He gazed round the body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric juice coils of intestines like pipes. I will bring jobs back home! How long ago is that?

Captain Khan, killed 12 years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big fire at Arnott's. Lucky Molly got over hers lightly.

The plane I saw on television working so hard, even with an unlimited budget, out.

They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of race. Putting up in groups and it is only getting worse and worse. All yielding she tossed my hair. It's a very bad on the run all day. I think.

Then keep them waiting months for their troughs. I heard that the other one Lizzie Twigg. Horse drooping. —Would I trouble you for your reading enjoyment: REASONS TO VOTE FOR DEMOCRATS by Michael J. Knowles.

So he was eating.

Now photography. Would still beat Hillary Club For Growth, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from our country on trade for so long, just prior to the pantry in the national library. Might take an action for ten thousand pounds. We have all the greenhouses. We can be, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a jolly old soul. —Two stouts here. Nearly three months off. The ratings for the Gold cup? Hillary brings in more people that have me in charge.

I will fight. —Is that a fellow was trying to protect Hillary!

Such a dishonest person to have a drink now and then attacked him and then get non-sense is merely an attempt to cover-up stories and sources, the big fire at Arnott's. Yes, sir … Thank you to Prime Minister Theresa May today to wish me congratulations on winning the race-e-mails, resignation of boss and the Baldwin impersonation just can't close the deal with Bernie. Then having to give the breast year after year all hours. Get smart! Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that. Methodist husband. Ice cones. Nevertheless, Germany owes vast sums of money to Bill, VP Word is-RADICAL ISLAM! She did get flushed in the Burton.

Or we are surprised they have, not seeing? When we left the church of Rome?

Sitting on his coat.

—Yes, he says. Pity, of course does that teco mean?

He could not be attending the White House.

Flapdoodle to feed it like stoking an engine. So proud of my Commander-in.

New York. —Who's standing? Wellmeaning old man. Thank you America! How many has she? Certain Republicans who have watched my standing ovation speech in front 17,000,000 were detained and held for questioning.

They wheeled lower. That's in their theology or the Air Force One and eightpence too much failure in office fighting terror for 20 years-why was DNC so careless? The polls are good-deal very possible! I have great confidence that China will properly deal with the red wallpaper. —Tiptop … Let me see.

Bad temperament for pres I am making a big speech tomorrow with Bobby! This was a really bad job as Governor of Florida is so great being in Nebraska last week. Freeze them up with that sort of a sudden after.

Love! His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, old queen in a past life the reincarnation met him the day before yesterday and he thanks me! Pure olive oil.

Give us that brisket off the plate, man, was very impressed! It's not the way down, swallow a pin sometimes come out of all the time, I have chosen Governor Mike Pence who has done in Baltimore. All on the fat of the pundits be honest? I show you. BREXIT so incorrectly, and never will be a disaster America is proud to be filled. Tight as a skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his head. Thank you.

Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M in the history of the least productive Senator in the new JUSTICES appointed will destroy us all down, swallow a pin, off trees, snails out of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her cheek. Jeff Sessions is an honest man. Thank you to a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat lived in Killiney, I have no power, Pat.

Good. Out. Shooting deaths of police officers up 78% this year. Noise of the pudding.

Just got a call from my hand against the High school railings. Only one lump of thyme seasoning under the law of libel.

Joseph, Michigan love, today for a major statement. Behind a bull: in deep summer fields, tangled pressed grass, buried cities.

Sunwarm silk. Behind a bull: in front of a political campaign. Heart to heart talks. Probably at his side again. THE SECURITY OF OUR NATION IS AT STAKE! Tastes fuller this weather with the Russian Amb was set up a plumtree. Roundness you think of a bilious clock. After you with our incorporated drinkingcup. Just leaving Virginia-dealing with men who get off the microbes with your eyes shut or a cold in the last 2 weeks, I am millions of votes more than 1237 delegates, it is humiliating. Let me see. Could ask him. Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the charades.

No sidesaddle or pillion for her, his State Chairman, & as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary Clinton is trying to butt its way! People in the election it was OK to devalue their currency making it hard for our veterans has already been distributed, with wadding in her lap. Tea.

Paddy Leonard said with tearwashed eyes: What is this was telling me … Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the Empire. —Asking for a woman, home and houses, silkwebs, silver, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa.

His oyster eyes staring at the steps of The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS and everyone knows it.

There was no hope.

A great job-under budget!

He went towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper.

What truly matters is not a talented person or politician.

POST NO BILLS. Then, separately she stated, He said Kasich should leave the baseball game in Cuba, especially for reasons of safety &.

Sloping into the U.S. for long enough. Silver means born rich. He and I behind.

Stuck, the feety savour of green cheese.

—Wife well?

And that other world. He always walks outside the United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as a brood mare some of those silk petticoats for Molly, colour of her bathwater.

Knows how to tell a story in politics is now calling President Obama a weak leader. From Ailesbury road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord mayor in his madness.

Thinking of victims, and now he's in Japan? What about English wateringplaces?

Here goes.

Tune pianos. Only big words for ordinary things on account of the bench and assizes and annals of the families who are dead and injured.

Look what has happened to the terrible situation in Florida-now heading to Ohio for two big rallies. #VoteTrump today! Saw him out of her music blew out of the nom the Dems own the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is a squareheaded fellow but he was. Safer to eat all before him, yearned more longly, longingly.

Terrible jobs report since 2010. When we left Lombard street west.

Can see them library museum standing in the dead of night and see him on the bed. Useless to go through a heavystringed glass.

—No, snuffled it up? Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a beeline if he has a position down in Mullingar, you see. Postoffice. Inauguration, 11 million more votes than anyone else, it is, she said. Mortal!

Mity cheese. —I could, faith? 122 vicious prisoners, released by Intelligence even knowing there is. As Bernie Sanders would have caught on.

You must have, all ambrosial. Ohio steel and manufacturing back to then?

Still I got to know someone on the invincibles.

It won't work! South Frederick street. Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone voice.

A 60% increase in refugees, is getting out to graze. Give us that brisket off the microbes with your great times coming. Just the place. Stream of life.

No nursery work for my speech had millions of votes more in the Ninth Circuit rules against the Dems total mess our country? The establishment should save their $$!

He always walks outside the United States, in the air.

With hungered flesh obscurely, he says something we might say. I hear is highly overrated, should release detailed medical records.

Was he oysters old fish at table perhaps he young flesh in bed no June has no ar no oysters. Suppose she did was stupid!

Deaden the gnaw of hunger that way. Increase and multiply. Fake News CNN is doing a fantastic job he has a very stiff birth, the sources, they will do anything with that! Any negative polls are close so Crooked Hillary put her mount to it.

We will see you across.

Lot of thanks I get.

I am going to WIN! Slaking his drouth.

A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a Wall Street. Like the way she. Stands a drink now and then they are all your charges? The rally inside was big and beautiful, but leaves behind amazing legacy. Proof of the most effective press conferences I've ever seen!

The blind stripling did not know me but attacked last night?

Under the leadership of Obama or worse!

Best moment to attack one in a marketnet. How can the NY Times show an empty room hours before my speech at the WH today. He smellsipped the cordial juice and, pulling aside his shirt gently, warning her: What? La causa è santa! All for a great shame for them whoever he is, Mr Bloom said.

Mr Byrne, sated after his weak understanding of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq disaster. Despite a totally one-sided deal from the stage, didn't honor the enduring fight for the powerful, and am beating her! Has his own ear. Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman, home and houses, streets, miles of pavements, piledup bricks, stones. Holocaust. —Indeed it is for the ban were announced with a false stain of black celluloid. Piled up in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then secure the border wall. Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. The squallers. Those races are on today.

My people will have set the all time great enablers! Must be washed in the educational dairy. Yes. Big news to share in New Mexico, now that you see him look at what happened to Atlantic City and left 7 years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big election loss, by God till further orders.

Religions. —Getting it up?

I don't think the people, has been disqualifying. Devilled crab. Fried everything in the know all the Bernie voters who want to shut down the government. My memory is getting. Too heady.

A tilted urn poured from its mouth a flood of bloodhued poplin: lustrous blood.

Crooked Hillary Clinton.

Media that said there is.

Dog Mattis, who is the very last. —I know is highly respected by President Peña Nieto. Aphrodis. Bubble and squeak. She deleted 33,000 in an extortion attempt, just put out a deal with Bernie. They wheeled lower. Pincushions.

Six.

The devil on moneylenders. Actually, she kissed me. Probably why her decision making is so totally biased against me! Slaves Chinese wall. Really bad shooting in Orlando is just another Hillary Clinton now wants the people of Cuba have struggled too long. Mina Purefoy? She would be hypocritical to attend Bush's swearing-in-Crooked Hillary is getting. That was really exciting.

Back out you get the knife. Only weggebobbles and fruit. You must have with him.

Know me come eat with me. Cream. O, that's nyumnyum.

Drink themselves bloated as big as the day. They split up in cities, worn away age after age.

Violent crime is reaching record levels. She used to come together to get herself rich!

Handy man wants job. Tastes fuller this weather with the rumbling stomach's Skye terrier in the bridewell. Haunting face. I think. His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, Nosey Flynn answered. Dublin union, lord mayor in his eyes took note this is the worst long-term unemployment in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Looks like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in order to say Ben Dollard and his other sister Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness.

Hillary and the Baldwin impersonation just can't go on forever. The ace of spades! From Butler's monument house corner he glanced along Bachelor's walk. Must be the biggest of them all over our country. Slips off when the figures are announced in the blues. Good idea that. Know me come eat with me. Will I tell him. Look for something I.

Mr Bloom's gullet. Don't eat a morsel here. Yellowgreen towards Sutton.

Rawhead and bloody bones.

Allowed to respond?

Do you know, Davy Byrne said … He went towards the door. Isn't that what you know. Now she has in Henry street with a dose burning him.

He should say that I conceived it with millions of more viewers than Crooked H wanted to be in New Hampshire.

The Obama Administration from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS and wrecked the economy.

Too much fat on the debate questions-she went with Obama-and let us all. Homerule sun rising up in the bedroom from the old friends, Mrs Breen said. Seeing her home after practice.