#i can in fact be won over with breads and pastries it seems | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

min-youngis · 3 years

Text

breaking bread - l.dh

it's just me and my banners against the world

~ Pairing : Lee Donghyuck x Reader, non-idol

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour, Crack™

~ Summary : Does somebody want to be fake engaged to me for like two hours to try free wedding cake samples?

Strangers to Lovers

~ Word Count : 3.9k

~ Warnings : swearing, excessive simping over bread

~ A/N: looK AT HIM !!! i started writing this on my period but then my period got over before i could finish it so there's a steady decline in theatrics throughout the story.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

The first time you pass the bakery, you’re with Hyejin.

It’s newly opened, you can tell. There are balloons hanging from the ceiling inside, and all the counters look bright and shiny. But it’s the smell that arrests you, your feet stalling of their own accord as you take a deep breath in; so deep, you’re on your toes by the time you finally decide to exhale.

Your friend doesn’t even realise you’ve stopped, continuing her story for her non-existent audience until she turns and sees you staring with alarming intensity at the new shop.

If you could, you’d sleep in the smell.

You feel a gentle palm on your shoulder, as she worriedly asks, “Y/N? You good?”

A dopey smile. “I’m perfect, thank you, and you?”

Slowly, you begin to inch toward the shop, almost creepily, not even looking at Hyejin when she snorts next to you at the fact that you’ve slipped into a food coma without even tasting any food.

You’re close enough to read the bright board on top of the counter now, nose nearly pressed right up to the glass as you ravenously go through the menu and prices.

If there were somebody behind the counter, they’d have born witness to all the stages of grief.

“Hyejin,” you moan lowly, agony apparent in your voice, hands now on the glass even as the smell assaults you more the closer you get. “Hyejin, we can’t afford this.”

Behind you, a firm hand wraps around your elbow. “I know, sweetie. I could have told you that from the font on the name board.”

You let out another broken groan, palms sliding down the glass dramatically as you take a last long look at the pastries lined up inside.

“There, there,” Hyejin comforts, tugging at your arm and rolling her eyes when you stop to inhale deeply one more time, the scent of fresh bread and sweetness filling your lungs. “I’ll buy you an ice-cream at that place next to the apartment, come on.”

It’s a crappy substitute, but you’ll take it if you don’t have to pay for it. You can’t forget the smell, though. It haunts you until you fall asleep that night; fresh and delectable and sweet.

The second time you pass the bakery, about a week later, you nearly give in. Nearly enter and order one of the pastries, like some kind of millionaire trust fund baby.

You’re alone, on the way back from a meeting, and there’s no Hyejin this time to be your voice of reason and to drag you away from your own impulsive decisions.

Dawdling on the sidewalk, you bend, pretending to tie your non-existent shoelace so the person manning the counter inside doesn’t get suspicious.

Your fingers still in their exaggerated movements as you let yourself take a deep breath in, sinking into the scent, shoulders actually drooping a bit as the smell of freshly processed dough fills your lungs.

It’s the sound of shoes slowing down and stopping close to you that snaps you out of it.

Too close.

Hurriedly, you stand up, shaking yourself out of your bread induced reverie. You had expected somebody to be staring at you in judgement, waiting to question you about why you’re pretending to tie shoelaces on sandals on the middle of the pavement; but all you see is a man standing a couple of feet away, speaking into a phone as his hands move dramatically in the air, frustration evident on his face.

In the clearing of your haze, you can tell he’s cute. No older than you, messy brown hair and a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans. Really, your only complaint would be his attitude toward the bakery that you’re slowly beginning to regard as a legitimate place of worship. If he’s intent on swearing at some poor sod on the other end of the line, would it kill him to do it a few paces to the left? Away from this culinary haven?

He doesn’t seem to have noticed you, apparently comfortable with boring holes into the shop as he stands, and your plan to stall until he leaves so you can continue inhaling rarefied air doesn’t manifest in the next couple of minutes.

With a disgruntled look in his direction, (he keeps moving closer to the bakery, still shouting into his phone, and it’s beginning to annoy you), you inhale one last time, hope it sustains you until your next visit to this particular patch of pavement, and continue on your way home.

Day 3 involves a bench, a stranger and a revelation.

You’ve had a shit day at work, and it’s imperative that you’re reminded of the good things in life. The detour you take to ensure you pass the bakery on your way home is really self-preservation.

Strengthening your belief that only good things can happen on The Pavement, as you’ve come to fondly refer to it in your brain (and when you’re waxing lyrical to Hyejin, who just doesn’t get it), in a genius marketing move, there’s a bench that wasn’t there previously.

Right next to the entrance, facing the road, like in McDonald’s but without Ronald.

You try not to seem too excited at what’s basically an invitation for you to conduct your ritual, and casually slow down your pace as you near the area, trying to set up your subsequent action to seem like a nonchalant afterthought.

Until you spot the man again, walking in your direction. The same person whom you saw the other day desecrating the shop, and who cut short your...sniffing. And he’s walking toward you, making a beeline for the bench.

Screw nonchalant.

Subtly speeding up, you walk closer, noticing that he does the same thing.

Distantly, you’re amused at how the two of you have come to the same conclusion - that on an empty bench that can easily fit four people, only one of you can sit. Or maybe you’re competing for first, you aren’t sure.

You both reach at more or less the same time, exchange a stiff, polite smile that speaks volumes (yours says you won, his indicates the opposite), and sit down, leaving enough space in the middle to fit another person.

The first breath you take feels like being reborn.

Next to you, the Dude (which is what you christened him when you had ranted about his insensitivity and disrespect to Hyejin), is back to shouting at somebody on his phone.

You take yours out too, so you don’t seem pathetic. It isn’t like you’re stopping outside a bakery that you can’t afford just to smell bread on your way back from work.

At that moment, the shop doors open on your left, letting a customer out, and along with her, a strong, delicious waft of chocolate.

You’ve decided. This is heaven. This is where you’ll get married, and this is where you’ll ask your friends to bury you.

You’re soaking in the lingering after effects once the doors have swung closed, trying not to make your deep, quite frankly meditative breathing too obvious, while also trying to tune out the sound of the Dude ranting into his phone next to you, when you hear a mobile ring nearby.

And it isn’t yours.

You still. He stills. Marimba repeats one last, sad time and stops.

The thought forms through no conscious decision or effort of your own, slowly becoming more and more concrete.

You can feel him looking at you, as if waiting for you to call him out, and he opens his mouth to start talking at the same time as you do.

And then the door opens again, releasing another delectable whiff of sweet pastry, making the words stop at the tip of your tongue.

The two of you exchange a look, silent and full of gravitas, only breaking contact when he takes a deep breath and mutters, “Oh, shit, that’s so good.”

“Are you here for the smell as well?” Never in a million years did you think you’d say that.

He nods, sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah. I’ve been coming nearly every day for the last week.”

You can swear, in that moment, with his bucket hat and his baggy jeans and his now more obvious small sniffs, that you’ve never met a man so attractive in your life.

“This is my third time,” you reply, nodding in understanding even as a grin makes its way to your face unbidden.

His eyes twinkle, and you aren’t prepared for his next words. “I remember you from that evening when you were pretending to tie your shoelaces.”

“Were you faking the phone call then, too?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t bring it up.”

Emboldened, you offer him your hand, weirdly endeared by the way his mouth curls up in a half-laugh. As he puts his palm in yours, you shrug, “No judgement. You gotta do what you gotta do, yeah?”

“Absolutely. I’m Donghyuck.”

“Y/N. Lovely to meet a fellow bread enthusiast.”

When you spend twenty minutes talking about the bakery that night to Hyejin over dinner (she’s come to expect it at this point), the Dude has a name, and isn't so much of a dick as you had initially thought.

"Y/N, no."

"Y/N, yes."

She huffs, exasperated, random wisp of hair on her face flying upwards before settling freakishly perfectly. "I am not pretending to be engaged to you for free cake."

You're equal parts pleading and frustrated as you tug at her arm again, curling up as close to her on the couch as possible and batting your eyelashes as enticingly as you can. "Please? Am I not your very favourite person in the world?"

"No."

"Top ten at the very least?" you ask, undeterred.

She gives you an unimpressed look, pries your hand off of her elbow and turns back to the television, pressing play on the sitcom.

You don't even know what you're watching. You've been too busy concocting your master plan the entire evening, ever since you had passed the bakery and seen the newly installed sign outside that said FREE WEDDING CAKE SAMPLES!

You didn't even linger on the pavement as long as you usually do.

(Okay, maybe you lingered a little bit, hoping to run into your new acquaintance, but you had a plan, goddammit, and you had to convince Hyejin of it as soon as possible.)

"Give it up, Y/N. It's wrong and deceitful, I'm not going to do it."

You move away like you've been burnt, offense writ large on your face.

"Wrong? It's for a good cause!"

You admit, you probably deserve the eye roll for your theatrics. Recognising a lost case when you see one, you sigh slowly, settling back against the couch and resigning yourself to a cake-less existence.

"Why don't you ask your new friend? Mr. Fellow Weirdo."

"His name is Donghyuck. And I've only spoken to him once."

She shrugs unsympathetically, letting it go; but in your brain, the gears are turning again.

What about Donghyuck?

It's come to a point where you're willing to start saving specifically for the express purpose of buying cake.

Every time you pass the shop, your resolve weakens and your fingers inch closer to your wallet. The only thing that stops you is the fact that the end of the month is nearing, and expenses will hit you like a ton of bricks.

But you've come up with the perfect routine now. Every Monday and Thursday, at exactly 6 PM, on your way back from work, you sit on the bench outside the bakery for fifteen minutes. You haven't met Donghyuck again, but paradoxically enough, the more you don't see him, the more inviting Hyejin's suggestion seems. Twice already, while conducting your ritual, you had decided that if he showed up that day before you left, you would propose the idea to him.

You're in a similar headspace this evening, already planning out a conversation in your head and how you can bring it up if you meet him without sounding completely creepy, when you hear the devil himself, interrupting your monologue.

"Hey! Been a while, huh?"

You smile as he sits down next to you, a bit startled at seeing him in person after having fake conversations with him in your head, but nod happily. "How have you been?"

"Good, yeah. A bit busy, so I haven't come around much. But man, it's good to be back."

And there, as you watch his eyes close briefly in satisfaction and his shoulders rise and fall slowly as he takes a deep breath in, content smile spreading on his face when the smell hits him, you decide that Hyejin is one smart cookie.

"Do you want to be fake engaged to me?"

Granted, it isn't your smoothest work. And it completely derails any and all pointers you had come up with in your head for this exact scenario, but he doesn't get scared off.

His eyelids do snap open, though, and his serene expression morphs into one of confusion, but with remarkable calmness, he asks, "Uh, excuse me?"

Without a word, you point at the blackboard standing outside the shop on the other side of the doors. They've added balloons with green chalk now, as decoration. You hope they're better at baking than they are at drawing.

You watch his face clear up, realisation dawning as his lips curve into a wicked grin, one you haven't had the absolute pleasure of witnessing before.

Somehow, you don't think Ms. It's-Wrong-And-Deceitful would approve of this Donghyuck.

"I like the way you think," he says approvingly, glint of mischief in his eyes.

You can't stop your own excited smile from appearing, as the possibility of actually being able to have a taste of what you've been dreaming about becomes more of a certainty.

"Okay, but we've got to figure some stuff out, though."

"Agreed," he replies, all business. "Gotta make it believable. Which is your favourite Shrek film?"

You barely manage to restrain yourself from snorting, but from the twinkle in his eye, you're certain that you're about as good of an actress as the bakery owners are artists.

Calming down, you clear your head. "Okay, but for real, though. Basic things. What's your last name?"

"Lee. Your favourite ice cream flavour?"

"Mint chocolate. No, I don't take constructive criticism."

He shuts his mouth abruptly, his obedient nod making you giggle. "What do you do, job-wise?"

"I work at a record store."

You can't hide the impressed look on your face, eyebrow cocking up. "Dude, that's super cool. I do freelance journalism."

He nods, filing away all the information to whip out later. “What’s our proposal story?”

“Uh, something simple so they don’t have too many questions. Just say one of us asked over dinner?”

“Cool, yeah, makes sense. Summer wedding?”

“Summer wedding,” you agree, nodding.

Really, it shouldn’t be so easy to come up with fake wedding planning details with a veritable stranger.

He straightens up, standing and offering you his upturned palm, mischievous grin making a reappearance. “Ready?”

“Yes, yes, a million times yes.”

His laughter at your exaggerated tone dissipates some of the nerves, as you feel his cool hand wrap loosely around your fingers. It’s time for the performance of a lifetime.

"Let's get this bread," he mumbles, pushing the door open.

You nearly slump at the first proper breath you take. As lovely as the air outside is, everything is so much more intense here. Your fake fiancé's hand flexes in yours slightly, and you know he's going through some kind of spiritual awakening as well.

If the man behind the counter hadn't spoken, you're sure the two of you could stand there forever, just breathing.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

You snap out of your haze, slowly squeezing Donghyuck's fingers to get him back. It's show time.

You plaster on the brightest smile you've got (it isn't hard), and walk with him to the counter.

"Hey! We saw your board outside, about the wedding cakes."

He nods before replying to Donghyuck's non-question question, smiling enough for you to feel a pang of guilt; but not enough to abort mission. "That's right. Are the two of you engaged?"

You nod enthusiastically, impatient to start tasting. Maybe you overdo a bit when you giggle and say, "Yes!" with the brightest, most in-love laugh that you can manage.

You hear a muted chuckle from next to you, and you hope Mark behind the counter (according to his name tag) passes it off as joy and excitement.

"The bakery smelt so good from the outside, that we just had to come in and see if we could get our cake and desserts for the ceremony from here."

With a fond smile, he says, "Why don't you take a seat there, and I'll bring out the samples. Are you looking for any particular flavour?"

If you weren't nearly vibrating at the fact that you're this close to finally tasting what you've been dreaming of for weeks, you would have snorted at Donghyuck's very enthusiastic 'No preference whatsoever, bring them all!'

"Is this really happening?"

He squeezes your hand, excited grin and devilish smirk fighting for prominence on his face as he sits down next to you, whispering back, "Fuck, yeah."

He comes back bearing a tray with two spoons and a bunch of plates, each one having a small slice of different coloured pastry on it. In the other hand, a pamphlet with options for customisation and tiers. You don't know how to tell him that you couldn't care less about how many levels a wedding cake should have.

The moment he sets the tray down on the table, right in between you and Donghyuck, and the smell of the mixture of flavours and bread assaults your senses, you have to do everything in your power to not begin inhaling everything, to not grab a spoon and dig into whatever you can get your hands on. From the stiffness of his shoulders next to you, you know that your fake-fiancé is having the same problem in self-restraint.

"If you're going for a summer wedding, I'd suggest the berry based flavours-" Mark points out one delectable section of the tray, "-and for winter, our customers prefer chocolate or coffee varieties."

Donghyuck throws a subtle wink in your direction (and looks damn good doing it), before he asks, anticipation clear on his face, "Where would you like to start, baby?"

The pet name throws you off for a second, and from his grin, you have a sneaking suspicion that he knows exactly what he's doing, but there's no time to analyse it now. There's a slice of red velvet directly under your nose that's practically begging to be eaten.

You're thankful for the customer that walks in at that moment, making Mark move away; you aren't sure how convincingly you can pretend to be a normal, engaged couple that hasn't been camping outside the shop for weeks once you've actually tasted the goods.

"Together?" Donghyuck asks, once you both have a spoon full of cake.

Nodding firmly with a grin, you count down from three.

The first bite renders you blank. The literal definition of no thoughts, head empty as the flavour bursts in your mouth, your eyes closed and spoon stuck inside. Next to you, you hear a borderline pornographic moan, but you'll be the last person to call him out on it.

Before you know it, you’ve dug your spoon into the cake again, right as he does the same, and you’re chewing another bite, practically floating in serenity.

It’s mostly silence as the two of you make your way through the ten odd pieces of pastry on the table, only punctuated by satisfied sighs and muttered ‘Oh, fuck’s, and you feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience, here in this expensive shop with your fake-fiancé who has the same (perfectly normal) enthusiasm for bread as you.

“I can’t believe we thought sitting outside was good enough when this exists,” Donghyuck says after swallowing a large bite of chocolate raspberry truffle. His eyes shine in satiated glee, fingers tapping a steady, restless staccato beat against the surface of the table as he chooses the next slice to taste.

Tucking your spoon into the strawberries and cream flavour that’s quickly become your personal favourite, you nod enthusiastically. “Very glad I met you. Who knows how long I would’ve sat outside otherwise, living unfulfilled, believing my life was complete?”

His chuckle makes the cake in your mouth taste sweeter.

You lick off your spoon once you’re finally done a few minutes later, audibly huffing as you settle against the back of the chair, satisfied. Next to you, Donghyuck does the same.

“You’ve got some icing on your face,” he observes, settling his spoon down and handing you a tissue.

“Here?”

“A little to the left.”

“Here?”

Wordlessly, you watch as he brings his hand up and lightly taps the left corner of your mouth, pad of his index finger gently grazing your commissure, heat from his hand lingering for a just a second before he pulls away, his gaze suddenly holding a little less mischief and a little more intensity, and his knee briefly knocking into yours under the table as he tilts his body toward you.

You almost don’t want to wipe off the icing, but you make sure not to break eye contact when you do, the faint sugar rush making you bolder.

“Oh, you guys are cute! Were you able to pick a flavour?”

You’re startled at Mark’s sudden reappearance, uncharacteristically flustered as Donghyuck smiles brightly and smoothly replies, “They were all incredible, thank you. We’d like to try some other places and then decide. We’ll let you know!”

You think you see a faint air of suspicion around Mark when you follow Donghyuck’s lead and stand up, and for good measure, you make sure to grab his hand while walking out, fingers easily tangling together. To his credit, he shows no surprise, playing along unceremoniously and even going so far as to lightly swing his arm as you open the door and step out.

Leading the way a few steps away from the shop, once you’ve ensured that Mark won’t be able to see you, you let go.

It’s all a little awkward. What do you say to break up a fake engagement?

“We can never go back in there without disguises again, that’s for sure.”

That should do it.

“Think he’ll notice it’s me if I wear a fake mustache?”

The shared laughter at his comment lasts for maybe ten seconds before it’s back to a vaguely uncomfortable silence. You know this is it. You know you both probably won’t meet again because you’re done with this bakery. Why are you finding it so challenging to say goodbye?

He opens his mouth slightly, looking a bit unsure even as he begins to talk, that same intense look in his eyes making a return.

“There’s a small restaurant they’ve just opened near my apartment with a Valentine’s day two-for-one offer. Do you want to maybe see if we can get away with it again?”

His voice pitches up hesitantly towards the end of it, as if mimicking your subtly quickening heartbeat.

“Or,” you start, shy smile creeping onto your face as you slowly take your phone out and hand it over to him to enter his number. “We could make it a real date, and have a meal with no moral repercussions.”

That night, when you tell Hyejin your story (which is decidedly more interesting than all your previous stories combined, according to her), the Dude has a name, a cute face and a discount lunch with you next week.

145 notes · View notes

duskholland · 4 years

Text

9.45pm - Peter Parker

summary ↠ you work the closing shift at a bakery and Spider-Man makes a habit of appearing at 9.45pm to walk you home.

word count ↠ 3.7k

warnings ↠ a lil bit of angst/hurt and comfort. minor descriptions of injury. a bit of swearing, but this is mostly fluff.

a/n ↠ I really loved writing this one. I felt so happy the whole time and ! I am very excited for people to read it, so I hope you enjoy it :)) I’ve also recently redone my taglist, so if you’re interested in that, it should be linked at the bottom of the post. feedback always appreciated!

THE BAKERY YOU WORK AT is one of New York’s hidden gems. Tucked away beneath a level of luxurious townhouses, the small space is covered in vintage artwork, bright leafy plants, and warm exposed lightbulbs that cast a web of kaleidoscopic light across the space. Your regulars love the way it’s their secret, love the way it’s as if they’re walking into their own secret hiding space every time they creep down the green metal staircase and walk in through the jangling door, and you love the way it’s like a little community revolves around the place. The air is always alight with the scent of fresh pastries and sound of relaxed laughs, and there really isn’t anywhere else you’d rather escape to after school.

You always work the closing shift on weekdays, slipping down into the shop at 5pm and locking up at 10pm. It’s always the quietest hours for the bakery - the best loaves of bread and the most perfectly iced cupcakes are always snatched up by commuters in the morning, so the only groups of people who wander into the bakery when you’re there are those on the lookout for discounted baked goods. It’s always relaxed, and as the hours creep by, more than often you find yourself being paid to sit behind the counter and read a book than actually deal with any customers, so it’s a winning combination all around.

Your job at the bakery is normal and unassuming. That is, until the night Spider-Man stumbles into your shop.

It’s around 9.45pm, and you’ve just finished pulling down the shutters. Your shop may be set on the basement level of the building, but you have two large windows at the front that catch the light from the sun and drowse the bakery in a warm golden glow during the day. At night, however, it’s a little creepy, and you’re happy it’s almost closing time so you can quickly walk home and clamber into bed. It’s been a long day.

The bell perched on the door rings loudly and you jump, clutching at your heart as you spin around to greet the latecomer, hoping that they aren’t expecting too much. At this stage in the night, the only goods leftover are the ones you haven’t snacked on: a round cherry pie, a few broken biscuits, and a box of crumbling scones. As you open your mouth to greet the customer, your eyes fall on the figure and you find yourself stumbling over your words.

It’s… Spider-Man?

“Uh- uh, hi, M-Mr Spider-Man,” you squeak, feeling the hot heat of your blood pulse across your cheeks. Faced with the iconic red and blue colours of the spidersuit, you find your mind blanking, “Wh-what are you doing here?”

Though you can’t see the face beneath the mask, you get the overwhelming suspicion that you’re being chuckled at.

“I’m hungry,” he replies. Your eyebrows raise as you take in the soft, high voice that escapes him. “My, uh, my aunt always talks about this place, and I saw it was open, so…”

You clear your throat. Right. That’s fine. Spider-Man knows your bakery. Spider-Man is here in front of you. Spider-Man wants some cakes. This is fine.

Swallowing down your nerves, you nod and attempt a wide smile. You gesture to the cabinet and walk back towards the counter. “We’ve not got much left, I’m afraid. We close in ten minutes, so most of the good stuff’s been taken.” You peer back at the cabinet. “There’s a cherry pie, some biscuits, a few pastries, or some scones.” You look up at him, and as unnerving as it is to look at a masked figure, you smile again. “Anything grab you?”

He pads across the floor and scratches at his chin. “Could I have the pie?” He asks, after a moment. “Oh, and, uh, the biscuits.” He looks up at you. “What happens to this all if it isn’t sold?”

You rub your hands together, a little surprised by his question. “Well, it’ll go off by tomorrow, so if I don’t eat it, it gets thrown out.”

The eyes of the Spider-Man suit are incredibly emotive, you realise, as you understand the way they’ve moved is to imitate shock. Spider-Man himself sighs quietly. “Do you want any of this stuff? Like- will you eat it?” He asks.

You shake your head, biting your lower lip guiltily. You’ve already cleared out the treats you like. All that’s left now are your rejects. “Nah, I don’t like this stuff,” you admit.

His posture shifts and Spider-Man stands taller. “I’ll take it all, then. Please.”

You hide your surprise and instead grab a box and begin to wrap up the goods. He’s watching you carefully, and you can’t help but smile shyly up at him. “Busy night?” You ask, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

He shrugs. “Not really. Crime’s pretty low at the moment. Just small things - yanno, petty crime, small break-ins, stuff like that.” He glances around at your shop. “Are you the only one working just now?”

You nod as you wrap up the box in the special bakery paper. “Yeah, I close by myself on weekdays. Gets kinda lonely, but it’s nice, in a way.”

“You guys have good security here?” And he’s off, walking around the shop, glancing at the doors and the windows.

“Eh.” You shrug. “The boss had cameras put in, but that’s about it. I like to think that this place is off the beaten track enough to not be the source of any robberies.” You prefer not to think of it, really.

“Right.” Spider-Man wanders back to the counter and you place the finished box on the top for him. “Well, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” When you know he’s about to protest, you interrupt. “Really, it’s on the house. This would all go to waste anyway, so… You’re really doing me a favour. Please take it.” You glance across the bakery and see the clock says 10pm. “Anyway, it’s 10pm now, so, technically I’m not allowed to make any further sales.” And you smile, knowing you’ve won.

He’s silent for a moment. “Thanks, uh…”

“Y/N.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. “Do you leave now? Can I wait with you?” When you raise an eyebrow, he adds, “It’s not always safe out there, especially when you’re alone.”

“Alright,” you agree, trying to hide the fact that you’re ecstatic. Spider-Man wants to look after you? The Spider-Man.

He waits for you as you complete your normal checks: cash box, windows, door. After a quick tidy up of the place, you wrap yourself in your large jacket and follow Spider-Man from the shop. Once the front door’s securely locked, you tuck the key in your pocket and shrug at him. “Okay, well, that’s me done now,” you say. It’s chilly, and despite the street illuminated by street-lamps, it’s also eerily dark. In the distance, you hear the chilling sounds of groups of people, their yells and shrieks cutting through the air.

“Can I walk you home?”

You look down at your feet. “Don’t you have other people to look after?” You ask. “Cities to save, and all that?”

You can almost sense the smile from beneath his mask. “Nope,” he says, voice light. “Just you.”

And you sigh, because really, how could you say no? “Okay,” you agree. “That would be nice.”

There’s a soft pause, and you have to fight the toothy grin off your face. It’s just the promise of a walk home, but you can’t help but feel that it’s somehow far more significant than that. With the way he gently nudges your shoulder with his, you have the feeling he knows the same.

“Show me the way, Y/N!”

----------

Over the following few weeks, Spider-Man drops in almost every day. Always at 9.45pm, always in search of sweet treats, and always ending in him escorting you home, your hands occasionally bumping together. And after a few encounters, you feel as if you’re starting to know him.

You chat to him, and ask about him, and feel like you get to know him. He’s still a mystery to you, of course, but you work out he’s seventeen too, and he’s incredibly smart. He’s got a large heart, and so much kindness and consideration tucked away beneath that suit that you know there’s no one better to take the mantle of Spider-Man and be the superhero the city’s so proud of. And he seems to care about you, too. On several occasions, you’ve been wiping down the tables when he’s grabbed a spare rag and started working alongside you, asking about your family, your pets, your friends… Everything that makes you you, really. And it’s very nice. Very, truly, sweetly nice.

So nice in fact that you find yourself daydreaming in chemistry class, your hands moving with your thoughts as you doodle absentmindedly over a spare page in your notebook. You’ve finished your lab and the teacher’s run out to grab something, so as you wait for the bell to ring, you let yourself unwind. Your eyes are focused lazily on the paper, you don’t even comprehend what you’re drawing until someone taps you on the back and you startle to attention.

“Hu- what?” You mutter, looking up suddenly. The tap came from a figure standing bashfully behind you. Peter Parker. “Uh, Peter, hi.” You don’t know him well, but you’ve been in the same classes since you transferred to Midtown for sophomore year. He’s always kept to himself, but you think he’s a nice guy.

“Hi.” His nervous brown eyes flit around your face, and you find your cheeks warming. “Whatcha drawing?”

Before you can cover your embarrassing scribble, the drawing’s in his hands and he’s staring at the image intently.

“Oh, uh, just, uh, Spider-Man?” Now your face is hot for an entirely different reason. “I’m not, like, obsessed with him or anything creepy like that. I just… He’s cool, I guess?”

Peter glances up at you, brown eyes soft and round. “This is very good,” he compliments. He passes you back the paper and you quickly stuff it into your bag, your heart beating quickly. “I didn’t know you liked art.”

Your eyebrows furrow together as you tilt your head, looking at him, bewildered. “We aren’t really friends, Peter,” you say, your voice not unkind but still confused. “I don’t know much about you either.”

An expression like a dawn of realisation passes over Peter’s face, and he takes a small step back. “Yeah- yeah, of course.” He scratches at the back of his neck, his long, surprisingly muscled arm flexing in the air. “If you’d ever want to hang out, uhhh, let me know?” And he sounds so uncertain that you can’t tell what he’s really asking, and nod along.

“Yeah, of course.” You scribble down your number on a piece of your notebook and pass it to him. “I work in a bakery, if you ever want to drop by,” you offer. Working five hours a night, five days a week, means friendships are hard. You know from experience that the best way for people to see you is for them to drop by.

“Which one?” Peter’s staring at the paper you’ve given him, eyes burning over the number you’d printed for him.

“The Muffin Man. It’s on 53rd and-”

“22nd,” he finishes. “My aunt loves it there,” he adds, blushing a little. “I’ll drop by one day.”

You swallow your surprise and nod your head. “I’m there every evening,” you say. The bell goes, signalling the end of class, and you gather together your things.

“Well.” Peter rocks back on his feet, his forehead creased. You have the feeling he wants to say more, but the moment passes. “I’ll see you around then, Y/N.”

You smile slowly. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Have a good day, Peter.”

And you walk out of the lab, a slightly light spring to your step. In an odd way that you can’t quite explain, it felt as though you’re old friends with Peter.

----------

It’s 9.45pm the following Monday when Spider-Man next bursts through the shop door. So used to this, you don’t look up from rows of numbers that fill the account books, and instead call out a distracted, “Hey!”

But when you hear the crashing of a chair falling over, your head bolts up, and you gasp as you see Spider-Man standing there, wobbling significantly, deep stains of blood clinging to the lighter patches of his suit.

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. Quickly grabbing the first aid kit from beneath the counter, you run out onto the shop floor and offer him an arm. “What happened? What can I do? Are you okay?” He sags into your side and you carefully lower him into a soft armchair, your frantic eyes fixed on his arm and the sight of his oozing blood.

“Got hit,” he manages, voice hoarse. You blink slightly, noticing for the first time that his voice sounds a little familiar. “Fuck, I’m- it hurts.” And he sounds so weak that you suddenly feel like crying.

“Okay,” you mutter. “Can I look at it?”

He reaches up and presses a concealed button on the suit, and you watch as the sleeve of his arm loosens and fall to the ground, exposing one of his pale, fleshy arms. The fact that he’s shown you a part of him is quickly overcome by worry as you see the bullet wound.

“It’ll heal by itself,” he says, voice hoarse. “Can you see if the bullet has passed through?” He’s pulled taut with pain, and you feel your heartbeat quicken as you kneel beside him and peer at the wound.

“I think it’s exited,” you say. You gentle move his arm around, examining it carefully. “Yeah,” you add. You see the exit wound. “Can I clean it up and bandage it?”

He jerks his head in a nod, and you get to work. You feel terrible as you wipe at the source of his agony but work as quickly and gently as you can to remove all the dirt and then wrap up the damaged area. Once you’re done, you get to your feet and wring out your hands. “That’s you,” you say. You rub at your eyebrows and feel lines of tension weaving across your forehead. “I’d say go to the hospital, but if you heal by yourself…”

“I’ll be fine.” Spider-Man surprises you by tentatively getting to his feet. “I feel better already.” His voice softens out, and you feel your heart race in your chest as he takes you in his arms. Suddenly you’re hugging him, your cheek pressed against his warm chest with his hands pressing into your back, and an untameable giddiness bubbles up in your chest. “Thank you so much,” he speaks. The outline of his nose nudges gently against your head, and one of his hands slips up your back, fiddling with the tips of your hair.

“It’s, um, it’s okay,” you manage, system running in overdrive. For weeks your crush has been building, but you’ve managed to keep it dormant, telling yourself there’s no way he’d ever like you back. But with the tender way he’s curling the ends of your hair around his fingers, maybe - just maybe - you were being too harsh. Maybe there’s a possibility that something could happen.

“I appreciate you,” he speaks, voice quiet. “There aren’t many places I can go and just...be myself, I guess. I’m glad you let me do that here.”

You peel your head away from him and look up to Spider-Man’s concealed face, his hands pressing into your back as you wrap your hands around his waist.

“Always,” you promise. You wish so desperately that you could see his face.

After a moment, he steps back, the warmth of his touch vanishing. You sag a little.

“What are your favourite kind of flowers?”

You think for a moment. “Forget-me-nots,” you answer. “Why?”

“No reason.” He shifts on his feet. “Now, tell me what cakes you’ve saved for me tonight, yeah?”

----------

Something is up. You haven’t seen Spider-Man for a week, and he’s never disappeared for that long before. You find yourself going a little crazy, thoughts and doubts racing through your head every time it reaches 10pm and you’re left alone to lock up and walk home. Did you scare him off? Was that hug a test, and did you somehow fail it? Did he decide you were no longer interesting enough for him? Is he hurt?

It’s 9.45pm, and you’ve grown so used to silence that when the door swings open with a loud ring of the bell, you jump, clutching at your chest. You look up immediately, expecting to see Spider-Man, but instead seeing… Peter Parker?

You’ve not spoken to him since he saw your drawing in chemistry class, but you have texted a few times. He’s nice, but you had no idea he’d intended on dropping by the bakery, and you can’t help but feel disappointment hollow out your chest as you see him, replacing your normal visitor. But you smile at him none the less, especially when he procures a bunch of blue and white flowers.

“Peter?” You ask, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. He looks nervous yet confident, his soft brown hair arranged neatly on his head, his eyes open and inquisitive. He comes towards you and offers you the bouquet.

“For you, Y/N,” he stammers. His freckled cheeks stand out as his skin fills with a rosy blush. “I, um, hope you like them.”

You take the bunch and marvel at the beauty of the flowers. “No one’s ever given me flowers before,” you breathe out. You stare at him, heart squeezing in your chest. “How did you know I like these? They’re my favourite.”

“Uh…” He seems trapped, and suddenly you’re struck with a thought. The way he’s standing - bashfully, but still strongly - and the slight lilt in his voice when he said your name… It’s awfully familiar.

“What’s going on?” You mutter to yourself. You put the flowers down on the counter and step back, hands going to your temple as your mind spins at a hundred miles an hour.

Both Spider-Man and Peter had told you that their aunt liked your bakery. They both appeared at 9.45pm, just before closing. They both know your favourite flowers. Is it possible..?

“Hey, hey.” Without realising it, you’d walked from behind the counter and are now stood, wobbling, in front of Peter. You feel a little dizzy, your heart beating rapidly as Peter reaches out to you, his hands settling on your shoulders as he peers at you nervously. “Calm down. Your heartbeat is crazy.” And he pulls you to him, but all you can focus on is that fact that he knows your heart is pounding against your rib cage.

“You’re…” You break off as his hands press into your back, the hug feeling familiar. For a moment, you settle, breathing in the clean scents of Peter’s nutty aftershave, but then you pull back, questions replacing your peace. “You’re Spider-Man!”

You stare at him intently, watching as his face cycles through an array of emotions: surprise, reluctance, fear, excitement, relief. He jerks his head in a nod.

“Yeah. I am.”

Your jaw drops. “Peter Parker is Spider-Man,” you whisper to yourself. You look at him, shocked. “Why- how- why would you tell me?” Is what you settle on eventually, completely flabbergasted. “I’m… I’m just a normal person, why would you tell me?” You can’t understand how this secret - so personal, and important, and powerful - has fallen into your lap.

Peter’s lips tweak into a smile. “You’re not just a normal person, Y/N.” You realise your hands are clasped in his and feel your heart bloom with adoration as he squeezes your fingers. “You’re clever, and funny, and kind. You like chemistry, and baking, and speaking to me when I’m Peter or Spider-Man, and you even helped me when I was hurt.” His eyes are wide and pleading. “You are many things, but you are not only normal.”

The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only person in New York. Peter - shy, smart, witty Peter - is Spider-Man - someone who you’ve admired for years, and grown close to over the past weeks. Spider-Man is here, in front of you, mask off, showing you the most intimate details of his person, bunch of flowers and all.

And it makes you feel truly seen, for possibly the first time in your life.

“Why would you tell me?” You whisper, tilting your head to the side. The air is tender between you, and you become aware of how near you both are.

Instead of speaking the words you feel vibrating between you, Peter slides a hand up onto your cheek, his thin fingers spreading over your skin, tendrils of warmth flowing to your face. His other hand moves to your hair, lacing strands around his fingers as he steps closer, his eyes wide, questioning. You give him a little nod and feel your eyes drift close blissfully as he kisses you, his mouth soft, tender, warm. Happiness spreads through your chest as you push back against him, wrapping your hands around his waist as you kiss, and kiss, and kiss.

Moments later, when you’re both breathless and flushed with satisfaction, he pulls back. His forehead stays pressed against yours, and you gaze into his eyes, feeling a soft warmth flood the depth of your heart.

“I like you so much, Y/N,” he whispers. You can hear the nerves wobble in his voice. “I know I can trust you with this. I wanted you to know.”

Your lips pull into a wider smile. “I like you too, Peter,” you say. His fingers stroke your hair as his face creases with happiness. “Kiss me again,” you add, feeling a deep burning desire to be near him, hold him, love him.

His smile grows bolder as he nods gently. “Whatever you want, Y/N.”

And in the middle of your tiny bakery, tucked away from the rest of the city, Peter takes you in his arms. Your bodies connect tenderly, gently, completely, as your hearts intertwine. Love blooms in your chest as you feel him all around you, and as the clock strikes 10pm, you know that this is the start of something wonderful.

----------

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

taglist ↠ see this post to be added :D

@behind-my-hazeleyes27 @stiles-o-dylan24 @stilinskiswritings @stealth-spiderr @youngblood199456 @stixnstripesworld @mischiefandi @penguinchick100 @hcomet28 @aftrrglo @scottish-sim @cosmicholland @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @sweet-baby-cakes @apatheticanvas67482 @oh-whatabeautiful-parker

#peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland #woohoo #i just love this concept ?? so much #i hope you do too #catch me being soft thinking about hugging spiderman in my cute bakery #my writing #twilightparker writes #yayayayay #self-insert #y/n

784 notes · View notes

giulsherondale · 3 years

Text

"Welcome Eda!"

Ehm Balca, dear, this is not your home so please don't behave like it is... Ahh my nerves.

And more the earrings tactic... Soo childish. I really can't stand her.

Loved that Eda literally throw the popcorn into Serkan's belly😂

And Sirius at the end, I love my son.

Honestly... I really love Ferit and Ceren together. They are so cute, and I love how Ferit is trying to correct his mistake. He confesses that he is love with her, that he constantly thinks about her. So sweet.

Serkan telling Eda that the first time they met she used the same tactic of Balca because she forget her bag in his car. I love flirty Serkan and the fact that he remembers everything about Eda and their relationship.

The bet, honestly this is only the pretext so that Serkan can take Eda to Paris and have a romantic moment so the two of them.

"What does Efe wants?"

"You heard. I said I'll talk to him in the office."

"How strange. Not answering anyone's calls, and doesn't answer questions. But he calls you."

"I still work for him Serkan. Did you forgot? Okay, let's move on to our bet. Perhaps you agree that I won."

"I've told you. Nothing is clear yet."

"What has to happen for you to understand? How much clearer should it be? She ordered the same dish."

"Maybe."

"She said she was interested in the stars."

"Everyone loves stars."

"This was not enough, she also said 'Love' looking into your eyes Serkan."

"I think when she talked about love she was thinking about another person Eda."

"She answered by looking at you."

"Who else Eda? There were two people in front of her. Either you or me. Should she look at the salt shaker?"

"Either you are really stupid, or you pretend not to understand. Okay. It won't last long. It is seen, in a couple of days she will already confess her love to you."

"And you will win the bet right?"

"Of course. It's not my business."

"I agree."

"At the end of the day, what matters is how you respond to Balca's attention."

"You're right. This is a special topic that only concerns me and Balca. This is between us."

"Between you? There is something? Then I will call her."

"Eda sit down please. You..."

"I'm not jealous of you Serkan Bolat."

"You're not jealous... Really?"

"Think for yourself what could have been. Is this funny?"

"Okay... But I'm jealous of you like crazy. What to do about it?"

"You crossed the boundaries again. We'd better have coffee in the office."

"Let's have coffe here."

"I have something important to discuss with Efe. We will have coffee in the office."

"Efe can wait."

"Then I'll send him a message."

"No emoji."

This was hilarious. Eda kicking Serkan under the table and Balca was obviously flirting all the time. I loved Eda expression, she was so jealous. Serkan is soo smart, I think that he is well aware that Balca is flirting with him and he pretend not to see in order to push Eda to near to him. My smart babe.

Engin and Piril... I really like them. They are opposite of each other but they are so in love. And I think their love is actually more stronger that the difference they have. And they take out the best part of each other.

"As if there is an invisible connection between them."

Balca, dear, believe me there is... There is. So better not to put your nose between Eda and Serkan because nothing will change.

"Your coffee Eda Yildiz. Much better now. When you aren't stressed, you're becoming even more beautiful."

"Don't stress me out then."

"I don't."

This moment was so sweet and romantic. Obviously ruined by Balca. And then when Eda takes his coffee mug I was laughing out loud. Love that my girl is marching HER territory.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING BALCA?! I think she is really stupid because of course by removing the paper in the dossier Serkan will lose faith in Eda but you're damaging everyone and the holding too. She's so silly. And Balca even said that she felt hurt by seeing Eda and Serkan close the night before... Darling you know him for two days what the hell???? I hate her really.

Soo the interview and the photoshoot aren't enough... Balca you aren't spending too much time alone with Serkan and you even ask him to get a photo together and post it... Balca age 33... Balca real age 10.

"Well, until I'm 100% sure, this bet will continue Eda."

"What else should happen to make you 100% sure? What else? I'm just wondering."

"For example... When she look at me I have to feel that everything inside of her melts... When she's trying not to show her excitement... I have to see it by the way she look away... And when she try to stand firm... I have to see that her heart starts to beat faster... In her breath, in her voice, in her scent, even in her veins... I must feel this love."

"Serkan..."

"When she says my name... I must feel everything inside of her tremble."

TOO MUCH HOTNESS IN THIS SCENE🔥

Serkan reads her like a book... Honestly I don't know what to say about this scene... It speaks for itself. And plus new Serkan is enjoying his life, especially when he has the woman who he's in love with in front of him... Ahh Serkan❤️

"I really need Serkan"

Sorry Balca maybe I did not understand well... You NEED Serkan? For what? I really don't get her and I think I never will.

"His partner will arrive tomorrow and he wanted me to bring some flowers to his house and get everything in order."

"You went to his house? While I was doing the interview, you were at this man's house?"

"Yes I was. But there was nobody here. So I left some flowers and left. Anything else?"

"What kind of psycho would want flowers in his house? Is he romantic?"

"What's the problem? At least he doesn't have any allergies."

"And I also have another kind of allergy."

"What kind?"

"I'm allergic to Efe. I don't trust him."

"You should trust me. I know what's right and what's wrong."

Ohhh Eda, honey, you don't have an idea how wrong you are... And I love that Serkan says that he's allergic to Efe. My jealous boy.

I really like boys time, I like when Serkan, Engin and Ferit are together. And every each of them have some suspects on Efe,his behavior and the secret partner.

"You won."

"What?"

"You won."

"What did I win?"

"You won the bet."

"What bet?"

"Serkan, you won the bet."

"Ah... Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Balca is a little in doubt, so it happened. But she may still like you."

"Of course."

"I'm sure about it. You cannot change my opinion. She's just not running after you. As a result you won I lost."

"As a result, then, we are going to have dinner in Paris."

"It seems to me not to worth so many adventures. We can just go to that restaurant with flowers..."

"No no. A bet is a bet. Is it not? Therefore, after the results of the tender are announced tomorrow, we will take my plane and fly to Paris."

"It seems that I have no other choice."

GIVE US EDSER IN PARIS PLEASE✨❤️

During the ice skating scene was like the director told them to do whatever they want, have fun with each other, just be themselves. And I think we saw that, everyone was having fun, was laughing. In fact I really loved the scene it was one of my favorite of the whole episode.

"What?"

"I haven't laughed like that for a long time. It did me good."

"Me too."

"You keep well on ice."

"Ah yes? I am good in the air, on the ground, on the ice, in the elevators when you're around."

"Stop showing off. And when I'm not there?"

"You are always there. And you always will."

"Maybe tomorrow... Instead of going to Paris, can we eat fish and bread on the water front?"

"I will never agree. We will fly to Paris anyway. Have you ever benn to Paris before?"

"No. If you've noticed, I don't even ask you."

"I went. But to be honest, this is the first time I'm so worried."

"You probably planned everything hourly now. What are we going to do?"

"Yes. We will have a wonderful tourist route. First we will climb the Eiffel Tower, and then visit the best cafes and pastry shops. We will dine in restaurants. And then we will meet the order over the Seine. And then the Bridge of Arts and the Bridge of Lovers. But of course, none of this worries me so much..."

"Yes? What worries you?"

"Get lost with you in Montmartre."

"You won't get lost. You will not be lost anywhere. It seems to me that you even have a map of places where you are going in your head."

"You're right. But I've never been there before."

"Why?"

"Because I gave myself my word. I promised myself that I would go there with the girl that I really love. And it's you."

"Suddenly it got hot..."

Plus we got Serkan saying "Mon amour, je t'aime" and when she said that she understood what he said Serkan throw the ultimate romantic bomb "Because love has no linguage".

THIS IS POETIC CINEMA✨

Who the hell is Piril father?!😳

He has to be someone really important. He even has the guards.

And the final... Boommm... Grandma has come. I can't wait to see her and her plans.. In the fragment we saw that she will help Balca with Serkan because se has a "future husband" for Eda... Clearly grandma has no idea who Serkan Bolat is, he will never give up on Eda. Moreover I think that grandma arrivals is the thing that will unite Aydan, Ayfer, Eda and Serkan. They will work as a team against grandma. I can't wait to see it.

83 notes · View notes

werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

@lovelydivs i tried (insert star)

1274 words

“I mean, I will start coming to Walmart just to retrieve my peace of mind… so many aisles, and the best thing is, the only thing I can’t seem to find is Wheelys. Which is weird, right? I understand when a product completely dies, but like… I’m dead sure I saw Wheelys the other day at that gas station…”

You walked, almost lulled by his never-ending chatter, and your eyes were wandering around the shelves. So much food. So many different types of candy, and Kai needed them all. The brighter the package, the better. He was a smart man – but his knowledge in sweets and Walmart product was really incredible. You’ve been in this small town of Dublin, in Ohio, for four days, and he already learned every aisle, every stall, and all the check-out ladies’ names. You prayed silently that he wouldn’t turn into a coupon king one day.

He shook your hand lightly, attracting your fleeting attention.

“Babe, are you listening?”

“Yeah”, you uttered, a lazy smile stretching your lips. “But I’m pretty tired of just walking around. Let’s load you with this trash and go. I will never understand how you manage to entertain yourself by wandering here like in a museum”.

His eyes glistened with delight as you approached a tall stall covered with jelly beans like with bright-colored leaves. Poison, all of it. Nobody needs forty different types of candy.

Kai always forgot to take the trolley at the entrance, so every time you two had to put all these packs into your pockets, and then unload them at the checkout, like shoplifters caught. The worst thing was when you bought ice cream. With Kai’s pace of walking, it managed to start melting every damn time.

“Okay then, I’ll go to the toilet, and we can go”, he nodded mercifully, watching your cringing face as he flapped a pack of air heads.

“Strawberry?” you asked.

“Blue raspberry”.

“Kai, there’s no such thing as a blue raspberry… this is so unnatural”, you whined.

“You’re being unreasonable. Okay, wait for me here”, and he sprinted away like a twelve-year-old kid with strings instead of legs. Walmart was his realm. This dude could consume it all, together with people.

You sighed, looking at the loads and loads of candy that filled your mouth with sour saliva. Putting your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you started walking slowly, trying to get what he was seeing here. You were always more of a soda girl; while he was chewing on gum and jelly bears, that never ended up gluing his jaws together, you were consuming liters of Dr Pepper, until your teeth screeched with sugar. It was sweet, almost painful, bright pink, this life, eating candy and kissing Kai with sugary tongue.

Reality was, big places like Walmart gave you anxiety. There was too much of everything, and you realized, suddenly, why Parker liked it so much. A thousand cans of beans, slightly different in shape, in one stall? Fifty colorful plastic packets to wrap around your face and suffocate? Three hundred shades of diapers, different type for girls and boys? The never-shutting, loud, obnoxious advertising following you wherever you went, nowhere to hide from items, objects, labels, sounds, packages and QR codes. That was him. That was his personality. He could be too loud, he could be too needy sometimes. And you definitely could not escape him, no matter how hard you tried. The rare moments when his hand let go of yours, your palm felt cold and unusual. The moment his constant chatter stopped, silence was piercing your brain like a needle. He was addictive, like all that bright blue artificial honeyed sugar.

It’s been about five minutes, and you decided you’ve had enough of watching cucumbers slowly rot in their stall. You looked around, but did not notice the familiar black armful of hair, or his blue jean jacket. The cold air from the refrigerator soothed your shoulders as you took out your phone and tried calling him. Nothing, his phone was dead already. This morning you fought over the charger; you forgot yours at the last motel you’d been staying in, and the quarrel was heated. But you won because you weren’t wearing pants. So, your phone was currently on one hundred percent battery, and his died in sufferings.

Whatever, since this specific Walmart is almost his own land, he’ll be able to find you in no time. Maybe he’ll sniff you out before you go wild looking at the thick, maroon beef tenderloin, awful pictures springing to your mind.

You moved further, into the court of pastry. Now, that was good stuff. It smelled good, and there was garlic bread somewhere. Your pockets were already full of Kai’s Jolly Ranchers, so you put a couple of baguettes under your arm and stood there. Bread, that’s the shit. Bread is cool.

It’s been another ten minutes until you got to the house maintenance department and stared at all the cleaning stuff. There was a red row, a blue row and an orange row. You’d like your bathroom to smell like apples? Take the green one. You want it to have a faint scent of a Japanese garden? Put a pink bottle up your ass and vomit it onto the floor.

You closed your eyes, diving into the comforting darkness of your lids. There was a Beyonce’s song on, something from the times when everybody was wearing their damn pants right where their pubic hair ended. Just when you almost recognized which one had the lyrics “matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute”, the song was suddenly interrupted, and a hollow voice came down, crashing on people’s heads in between stalls.

“Y/N Y/L/N, your child is at register 10”.

You opened your eyes as a wave of rage flooded you over: like hell you knew where that register was!?

You walked across the whole place, navigating yourself badly by the huge signs which didn’t help much. Finally, you found yourself at the registers, and as you walked to the huge check-out desk with the red TEN, you saw Kai, sitting on the bench, prepped against the wall. His arms were crossed, and he was pouting, with the most childish look his boyish face was capable of, like it was him who’s just spent the worst twenty minutes in capitalistic hell.

He looked up at you, and his eyes narrowed:

“You’ve been buying bread without me?”

You sighed, outstretching a hand to get him up.

“I told you to wait for me at the candy place”, he mumbled. You put your hand in his hair and ruffled it a little bit, calming yourself.

“This place pisses me off”, you poked him with a baguette, and he took it from you, carrying it like a sword.

“Doesn’t mean you gotta run off and leave me alone”, he reproached, “didn’t even call”.

“Your phone’s dead, Kai”, you reminded him.

“Ah”, Parker’s face lit up a little bit, and you walked to the check-out desk. The lady was smiling at you two, what an adorable couple. A mum-girlfriend, and a capricious pretty boy. That was until you started unloading your pockets like two complete dumbasses. You took out a can of Dr Pepper out of your inner pocket, and felt Kai’s clothes through to make sure he didn’t leave anything in.

“Do you need uh- a bag?” the lady asked.

“Oh my God, Karen, why do you hate your planet so much?” Kai gave her a meaningful look. He took your hand again. The badge on her chest read “Olive”.

#kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #kai parker #tvd #imagine

251 notes · View notes

dawnwave16 · 5 years

Text

Not what I Expected.

Heya, so this is my very first fanfic and it was ment to be a one shot but it has run away and is taking me along for the ride. Before anyone asks, I do have HC’s for it but no idea how far this will go!

1(Here); 2 ; 3

Anyway here’s Chapter 1:

Takes place during CM: BB episode 5 “ The Lonely Heart”

The case just didn't make any sense what so ever. First, the eyes were mutilated, then the head was removed. What was the connection and what were they missing? Matt Simmons was sitting in the park near a school trying to clear his head as he asked himself those questions. In the distance, he could see a man feeding the pigeons and a policeman arguing with someone over a parking ticket. He closed his eyes trying to keep himself focused, forehead resting in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

“Sir?” He looked up again at the sound of a soft feminine voice. “Are you alright?” the voice continued.

Matt sighed. “I'm alright, just trying to figure out the answers to something,” he replied then looked at the person talking to him. She was fair-skinned with ravens wing black hair that shone blue in the sunlight. Her eyes were a vivid blue, yet somehow, strikingly familiar, and she had freckles on her nose. If he had to guess her age he'd have said she was possibly 15 at most.

“ If you stuck on a question and don't have all the answers, why don't you think of something different for a while? I find that always helps me when I'm trying to design and can't quite get it to look right.”

“What do you suggest I think about then?” Matt asked with a smile.

“Well, I heard your stomach grumble so maybe you should think about some food? Or you could think about something you know will make you happy.” It was at this moment a scream was heard. Matt was instantly searching for the source of the scream. “Oh, not again!” The girl seemed almost exasperated and he was struck by how familiar it seemed. She looked at him calmly and said: “Head to the bakery that's behind you, tell the woman at the counter that Marinette sent you and she should help you.”

“Wait I could-”

She cut him off before he could continue, “No offence but you'll only be in Ladybug and Chat Noir's way if you try help out. I'm going to try to keep Alya from getting killed, not that she'll listen to me anyway!” The last part was said in a disgusted mutter and Matt made a mental note to ask her about it. It would have to be later though as she had already disappeared from sight.

Matt shrugged, he might as well do as the girl said. Marinette, she said her name was Marinette. Even as he walked to the bakery his mind lingered on how familiar she seemed, yet he knew he had never met her before. As he entered the bakery he was hit was the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread and pastries.

“Welcome to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, I'm Sabine Cheng, please feel free to look around and if you have any questions or would like to place an order I'll be with you as soon as I can!” The voice was cheerful yet edged with exhaustion and came from a small woman who looked very similar to Marinette.

Must be her mother, he thought. He was quiet for a second then said “I was sent here by Marinette when the screaming started. She said you could explain it to me as she was going to try to stop a friend of hers from getting hurt.”

“Oh! It's just an Akuma attack, we have them quite regularly these days, unfortunately.” She then told him everything that she could about the attacks and how they were handled. At one stage Jack Garret called to get an update and Matt explained where he was and that he would give a full debrief when he got back to the station. Suddenly, a swarm of red ladybugs seemed to fly through the air and Matt watched as everyone instantly relaxed again. Sabine smiled, “Looks like Ladybug and Chat Noir won again, I hope they didn't have too much trouble!”

Before Matt could ask what she meant Marinette walked through the door. Her hair was messy and she seemed to be trying to hide her face, her eyes downcast.

“Marinette?” Sabine asked softly. Marinette looked up, a bright red handprint was visible on the face and it was slightly swollen. “What happened?” Sabine hurried over to her daughter and looked at her closely. “Who hit you?” Marinette sighed

“Ayla did, Maman, Lila told her that I was trying to make Nino cheat on her and Ayla just took off. She refused to listen to me when I said it wasn't true!”

Matt frowned, “Does Lila often do this type of thing? You seem resigned about how this has happened.”

Sabine looked at Marinette and seemed to come to a decision. “Let me close up the shop and we can head upstairs to talk about this.” Marinette seemed about to protest so Matt spoke up.

“I'm with law enforcement so maybe I can help come up with solutions with you. You have helped me today so please, let me help you.” Marinette pouted, then winced as it pulled her skin.

“Ok, I guess I need to put ice on this too.”

Sabine walked to the door and flipped the sign then led the way upstairs.

“Where do you want me to start?” Marinette said warily, her eyes closed. She held an icepack wrapped in a thin towel lightly against the throbbing handprint on her face.

Sabine looked at Matt and seemed to come to a decision.

“While your papa and I know most of this it might be best for you to start at the beginning so that SSA Simmions can get a clear idea of everything that has happened. He might be able to see something that could help.”

Marinette kept her eyes closed but nodded in understanding.

“It all started with a new girl joining our class...” Marinette then told Matt everything that had happened since Lila had joined her class. She spoke about Mr Agreste's book and how Lila had stolen it, she spoke about the fact that she had been threatened in the bathroom and her near Akumatisation. She spoke about how her teacher kept saying she had to set an example for the rest of her class. As she spoke she seemed to almost fold into herself as she fought to keep herself from falling apart.

Matt was stunned as he listened. Here was a girl whole had gone out of her way to help him, a stranger, who did all she could to help everyone she could and yet this was the nightmare that she was living with. He wondered how she hadn't snapped yet, after all, he'd delt with unsubs who had snapped after far less. He also couldn't help but see his sons in her place and had to fight to stop himself from getting angry on her behalf. All the while he kept thinking that she reminded him of someone, he just wished he knew who it was. Then she said something that had him snapping to attention.

“Wait did you just say she claimed to be related to David Rossi, the author?”

“Yes, it's one of the few names I didn't recognise to I don't know if she is lying about that one or not. They have the same surname but that doesn't mean anything and to be honest, she could be lying about her name and none of us would know.”

“I can make some calls to check but I'm pretty sure Dave only has a grandson and no granddaughters, certainly none that would be your age.” He was about to say more but at that moment his phone went off. It was Clara saying that Jack was getting annoyed with how long he had been away and that they had a lead.

“You have to go don't you?” Marinette's voice was slightly hoarse from talking so much.

“Unfortunately yes but I would like to keep in contact and see what I can do to help.”

“Well then,” Sabine spoke up from the kitchen “You and your team are welcome to come round for a meal or even coffee to help relax before you fly home. I won't take no for an answer, either.”

“I'll tell the team. In the meantime here is my card and if I can get your number I'll call as soon as I can, either with ideas to help Marinette or when we are done.” Matt smiled slightly then he looked at Marinette. “As for you little lady, I will get hold of David to double-check about his family and do a bit of research to see what I can find.”

“You don't have to-” Marinette started.

“How could I not? I have children of my own and if they were in your situation I would do all I could to help them, just as your parents have done. I just happen to have more resources at my disposal,” he said with a wink.

Marinette smiled her first true smile of the afternoon as far as Matt could see, then nodded.

“Ok, then Agent Simmons.”

“Call me Matt.” He smiled, “I'll see you soon.”

As he left he thought over what he had heard. He also thought about why some of the things she did as well as her eyes seemed familiar. It was only as he scrolled through his list of contacts to find Garcia's name and saw one in particular that he realised why that was. Her eyes had the same tired quality as most BAU agents he knew but even without that, he should have recognised them. After all one of his contacts had the same eyes, identical in colour, shape and depth. Aaron Hotchner.

#mlb #criminal minds #beyond borders #lila salt #salt #bio!dad au #marinette

202 notes · View notes

johnny-and-dora · 4 years

Text

how sweet the taste of certainty

Finally, she doesn’t have to wonder if their love is doomed to be some quiet, fragile thing. It’s not some fickle flickering candle at all, but rather something as bright and as certain and as inevitable as the sunrise. Something beautiful and familiar that, in earnest, is only just beginning.

or, amy tells her parents the shining, golden reason why she can't marry teddy. (a missing scene of my royalty au)

read on ao3 / read the original -

The morning after she asks Jake to marry her, Amy stops a couple steps short of the heavy dining room doors, heart in her mouth, feet suddenly and brutally rooted to the ground. The eloquent and respectful speech she spent all night planning has seemingly evaporated, leaving her less of a person and more a pile of nervous mush.

“Are you ready?” Rosa meets her gaze, her armour glinting in the summer morning sunshine.

“No.” Amy admits, smiling nervously, calculating the nearest escape route and how long she could survive in the forest based on her existing hunting and foraging skills. “Do you think this is a bad idea?”

Rosa considers it for a beat. “No. I think it’s crazy, and it might blow up in your face, but I think it’s a good thing. For everyone.”

She can’t help but feel reassured by her best friend’s trademark bluntness, smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair again almost compulsively. It’s just breakfast. A breakfast that may as well be taking place in the middle of a minefield, but still just breakfast. She can handle breakfast.

Amy takes a deep breath, nods at Rosa, and pushes the doors open.

She’s greeted by the tail-end of an idyllic Santiago family meal; her parents sit at the head of the table, looking stoic and serious as usual. Three of her brothers are also dotted around, Julian in the middle of shoving an entire croissant in his mouth as he waves at her. David is mercifully absent. Silver linings. She definitely doesn’t need the golden child around today.

“Amelia – good, we were starting to worry…” Her mom trails off, a weight behind her words that instantly sends an unpleasant lick of irritation down her spine. She clenches her fists, resisting the urge to tell her just how much she really needs to be worried about. Just how close she was to smuggling herself and Jake over the border last night and never looking back.

Amy knows this won’t work unless she’s calm, firm and collected – she needs this to go perfectly, the stakes for this particular conversation so far past the roof they’re practically up in the stratosphere (Jake’s words, not hers). So, instead of letting out all the latent anger kicking around in her chest, she takes a deep breath and smiles politely, the one usually reserved for dukes that condescendingly call her “sweetheart” and then drop their jaws when she can recite state law from memory.

“You guys said you wanted to see me?”

“Prince Theodore has been asking after you. He’s waiting at the West Wing gate.”

“Good. I need to talk to him.” Amy says, forcefully enough that her mother sharply raises an eyebrow, sucking all the air out of the room in the process. “I need to talk to you, too.”

Her mom and dad share a quick, loaded glance. Everyone falls quiet, Tony and Simon no longer squabbling over who gets the last bread roll, Julian letting a blob of jam fall on his shirt without noticing. All eyes are on her as Victor gestures for her to continue – ideally, she’d do this with as little of an audience as possible, but she confesses to Jake later that she couldn’t help but revel slightly in the drama of it all.

She’s Amy Santiago – she’s fluent in five languages, director of the royal art collection, ambassador for human rights and one of the best trade negotiators in the seven kingdoms. She is capable of anything. She can do this. She’d barely last a week in the forest anyway.

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“Amelia…” Her mother sighs disapprovingly – it drills into Amy’s soul, but she stands her ground, making peace with her portrait being one step further away from the mantel. Her father eyes her warily as if he was expecting this.

“No, I know. I know you think it’s what’s best for me. I know a marriage like that worked for you two, and I know that it would benefit the kingdom and that’s great. But I can’t marry someone I don’t love, and you can’t force me to.”

“Accepting his proposal may seem like a risk, but a one worth taking.” Her father says. “He’s good for you, Amy – his reputation, his influence, it could really help you build something. You two are perfectly matched.”

Amy chews her bottom lip, a nervous tic she just can’t shake, gathering her courage. “Maybe in a different situation, Teddy and I would have worked. I see what you see in him. But it’s more than just on principle. I physically can’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

“Because - “Amy says, voice shaking a little, but eyes alight, “-I’m engaged to someone else.”

And, well, there it is. Her whole life changed by a single sentence.

It has the intended effect, increased tenfold thanks to a truly magnificent spit take from Julian as he chokes on his orange juice. Her parents stare at her in stunned disbelief – a wide-eyed Tony pats Julian on the back as his coughing dissolves into laughter. Best of all though, Amy can see Rosa smiling wide and proud in the corner of her eye, and it’s all she needs to feel newly emboldened, heart thumping in a way that makes her feel powerful instead of helpless.

“My God, Amy. I thought I had it with the whole one-night-stand with the Prince of Arabia thing, but you officially just won most dramatic family announcement. Well played.” Julian laughs, uproarious and bright. She’s glad he’s here.

“I…don’t understand. You are…already engaged?” Her mother asks weakly.

“As of last night, yes.” Amy tries to remain as neutral and matter-of-fact as possible, but she can’t help softening at the fresh memory of Jake saying yes over and over again, punctuating each affirmation with a kiss as she laughed, buoyant and alive with unadulterated joy. It’s all still very surreal, especially considering she hasn’t slept since; but if it is all a dream, it’s one she never intends to wake up from.

“I don’t see a ring,” Julian says, a bright grin plastered on his face that Amy ever so slightly mirrors, unable to completely tamp down her happiness any longer. “Isn’t there supposed to be a ring?”

“There is, but he has it. I proposed to him.”

“Oh, of course you did.” Julian shakes his head in a perfect marriage of awe and amusement.

“How…what…who…” Tony stammers – having graciously passed the point of no return, Amy decides to throw all her caution and concern to the wind and dive headfirst into the unknown.

“His name is Jake Peralta and he is the absolute love of my life. I have never been surer about anything than I am about that fact.” She consciously pours every ounce of conviction she has into her words, and it tastes like honey on her tongue, fresh air in her lungs. “He’s a baker and he helps out in the kitchen with Charles and he is the kindest, most loyal, most wonderful person I have ever met.”

There are so many ways to describe him – completely unexpected, completely full of warmth and laughter and more love than she thought any human being was capable of containing. Loving Jake is endlessly surprising, but it’s also the easiest thing she’s ever done.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d never approve of me being with someone who didn’t have ‘reputation’, but the truth is that Jake is good for me in a way that Teddy could never be. He is unconditionally supportive and thoughtful, and he sees me for me, not just as a status symbol or some idealised fairy-tale. I love him and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.”

She says her piece, affection flowing from her almost of its own accord. As she does, she’s flooded with memories – throwing grapes at each other at the picnic they shared in the wildflower meadows beyond the gates. Jake smuggling cupcakes to her to cheer her up on bad days. Him clumsily risking his life climbing through her bedroom window just to help her rehearse her big address at a formal dinner, planting a kiss on her forehead every time she got through a cue card.

Their walks around the castle grounds, laughing at stupid inside jokes. Playing cards in the kitchens with Charles, Terry and Rosa. Teaching him how to paint and sketching him in increasingly ridiculous poses. Having dinner with his mom. Stealing away moments behind the stables and on staircases. Most vividly, their countless private rendezvous in the forest, free of all façades and responsibilities and reputations to uphold.

Amy refuses to hide any of it anymore – he is, openly and unashamedly, the man she loves.

No-one speaks, for a little while; she lets her honesty sink in. Her mother is wearing a look of abject horror – her dad’s expression is stony and unreadable, and it startles her when he is the first one to break the silence, directly addressing Rosa standing guard by the door.

“Diaz. Is all of this true?” Rosa glances at Amy, who gives her an encouraging nod. She knows her father has always valued Rosa’s directness as much as Amy does.

“Yes, sir.” She pauses. “And for the record, I’ve known both of these people a long time, and this is the happiest I’ve seen either of them. It’s kind of sickening, actually.”

Her parents exchange glances, a silent conversation Amy isn’t privy too – she’s too busy feeling her heart swell with further affection, this time for her best friend. She and Jake owe so much to Rosa helping them out, relaying messages back and forth and covering for them. When this is all over, Amy’s definitely embroidering a thank you pillow for her to punch.

“I see. Will you please bring this Jake Peralta here for me?” His tone is even and calm, almost unnervingly so. Rosa nods, quickly disappearing. She knows exactly where Jake will be; in the kitchens, probably stress eating day-old pastry and getting a last-minute pep talk from Charles (which is guaranteed to be largely unhelpful and delivered through hysterical tears).

She’d warned him that they’d probably want to meet him; he’d expressed anxiety about it last night, but Amy had quickly reassured him that no-one else’s opinion mattered to her about this. They’re getting married, whether her parents approve or not.

Obviously, she wants them to like him. She’s dedicated a lot of time to making sure he knows he is loved and accepted, and she’s willing to work even harder to wax lyrical about how wonderful he is for the rest of their lives if she has to. For now, though, she just has to focus on not getting them both exiled.

Her dad calmly asks her brothers to leave the table – Julian mutters in protest as he exits, only stopping to brightly clap Amy on the shoulder and earnestly congratulate her with an enthusiastic high five.

“He sounds great, mimi. I can’t wait to meet him.” For once, her older brother is completely sincere, save perhaps for the suggestive wink he gives her, and it’s a touching gesture that eases some of the relentless anxiety building in her gut. Amy dreads to think how insufferable the pair will be when they do finally meet. She can’t wait either.

Part of her is absolutely fucking terrified to be left alone with her parents with her open defiance and violation of their wishes hanging so ominously in the air – Amy Santiago has never been a rule breaker. She’s always worn the stupid fancy dresses even when she’s dying for something more practical and let Gina give her more and more complicated and ridiculous hairstyles and politely mingled with the endless line of boring high-status bachelors as her parents watched on hopefully. She’s always played the role of the only princess to perfection.

But then she thinks of little six-year-old Amy demanding that she be taught the same combat training as her brothers and twelve-year-old Amy petitioning to allow female members into the Royal Guard and, well. They really should have seen this coming from a mile away.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before Rosa strides back in, a clearly nervous Jake hurrying forward in her wake. For a moment, her original plan of whisking him away to start a simple life together swims into her head, a powerful urge to protect him surging over her.

But then their eyes meet, and he waves, a small nervous smile on his face. And then she notices, as it catches the sunlight streaming in through the window and glitters as if enchanted, the engagement ring hung proudly around his neck. And she just knows, as sure as the sun will rise, that they can handle anything.

“I understand that you are engaged to my Amy.”

“Yes, sir.” Jake rocks on his heels slightly, nervously fidgeting the way he always does when he’s anxious. “I’m very lucky to know her and I love her very much.” It’s not the most eloquent speech ever performed in this great hall, but it’s by far her favourite.

“How do I know you are good enough for my only daughter?”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m good enough for Amy. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met and the best thing that’s happened to me.” He steps closer to her, silently taking and squeezing her hand as he speaks. “But she still chose me, and I promise you that I will spend every moment of the rest of my life trying to be someone worthy of being loved by her.”

She wants to scream from the top of her lungs that he is completely and utterly good enough, and she wants to hurt anyone who has ever made him feel otherwise. Instead, she squeezes back, and mouths I love you while her parents exchange another hushed conversation.

“Well then - it appears there’s nothing we can do to stop you. Nor do I think we should try.” It could be a trick of the light, but she swears that she sees a glimmer of pride in her father’s eye. Her mom clears her throat, clearly still struggling to comprehend the situation.

“Mija, what we want most for you is for you to be happy. Does he make you happy?” She asks – Amy glances at the man beside her and finds her best friend, her fiancé, her favourite person. Easiest solve in the world.

“More than anything.”

“Then that settles that. You two have our blessing.” Her father says, as simply as if he was commenting on the weather. Amy blinks once, then again, her grip on Jake’s hand getting tighter.

“We…we do?”

“Yes, you do. We clearly have much to discuss, but I must first inform Prince Theodore that other arrangements need to be made.”

“I…wow. Thank you. Thank you, so much, I…” Her brain appears to be malfunctioning, so she does the only thing that feels right; she hugs her parents, whispering another strangled thank you, and then hastily pulls a stunned Jake out of the room, now squeezing his hand so tightly it’s probably cutting off all the circulation. If it does hurt, he doesn’t say anything – then again, in the moment neither of them seems able to speak.

She drags him into the nearest room; Holt’s classroom which, blessedly, is currently empty. Heart pounding, she finally meets Jakes gaze. He looks like he’s just found the end of a rainbow.

“Did they just…”

“Yeah. Yes. I think they did.”

“So, we’re…”

“Getting married. Yep. That is a thing that is officially happening.”

There’s a single moment before they’re both collapsing into shocked, near-hysterical laughter, an amalgamation of relief, disbelief, exhaustion and above all else, joy. Amy practically throws herself around him, performing some kind of strangled hybrid of laughing and crying as she buries herself into his shirt.

They stay like that for a while, completely wrapped up in each other. It could be seconds or minutes or maybe even hours – she doesn’t care. Time has ruled their life together for so long; now, it’s an insignificant enemy, no longer precious, unpredictable or finite. It’s bliss.

“Hey, listen. Rosa told me, uh, what you said. To your parents. About me being the love of your life and all that.” Jake says, suddenly adorably shy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She said it with a disgusted look on her face, but I think she’s secretly rooting for us.”

Amy hums in contentment, making a note to call her a secret sap and then hug her the next time she sees her. Jake clears his throat nervously, calling her attention back to him, all soft and warm honey gaze.

“You’re mine too, by the way.” He says sheepishly. “Just in case…I mean I hope you that know by now, but-“ She smothers his nervous ramblings with a firm kiss, finally. Finally, the abstract brush-strokes and subtle hues of the future they could have together come into sharp focus, vivid and prismatic.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, future wife.” He grins, kissing her again. She’s sure, now, as her lips meld to his that he is the person she was always meant to come home to, to find a home in.

Amy feels a wave of exhaustion overwhelm her; now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the unfortunate side-effects of not sleeping for almost twenty-four hours rapidly take hold. She barely suppresses a yawn, scrunching up her nose as Jake looks at her fondly.

“You wanna go back to bed? I happen to know an excellent nap partner.”

“Oh, great, me too. I’ll see if Hitchcock’s available.” She says, laughing when Jake pouts in offence, draping her arms around him, leaning up so that their noses are almost touching.

“It’s our first day together as an engaged couple. I want to do something special.”

“Ames, we have the rest of our lives to do something special.” He says, gazing down at her with so much undiluted affection that her resolve completely melts away. The rest of their lives. She really likes the sound of that.

“Okay, napping sounds pretty good right now too.”

“Good, because we have about five minutes until I collapse from twelve hours straight of nervous hysteria. Would you mind carrying me to your bedroom?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves him, but also offers him her hand. They soon collapse into Amy’s four-poster bed, quickly pulling the covers over their heads, wriggling around and fighting for space while they giggle like little kids. Amy sleepily leans into him when they’re all settled in, and she’s never felt safer than she does now, being lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“We’re getting married.” She whispers reverently, eyelids heavy – she feels his lips gently ghost against the top of her head in response, perhaps subconsciously as if he were made to do it. They drift off, and the last of her anxiety ebbs and flows away as if merely a bad memory.

It’s the best sleep either of them has had for months.

#b99 #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #my writing #we love a passion project #listen i haven't stopped thinking about this au for MONTHS. so here you go. welcome to my twisted mind #if you do decide to read thank you very much for indulging me :')#shut up sian #oh and also happy trying eve everyone! thought i'd get this out before we all die

48 notes · View notes

darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

Text

“A Taste of Clouds Doesn’t Have to Chase Away Your Smile”

Summary: Valtor gets caught in the sudden rain that pushes him to seek shelter in a small business establishment he wouldn't have looked at twice, otherwise. Inside he finds another perspective on what the clouds can bring you if you can open your heart and your mind for the magic of the universe. Bakery AU.

This was supposed to be about rain which is still there but I somehow ended up with a bakery AU on my hands. I have to admit, I never thought I would write one but here we are and I am actually very happy with how it turned out.

Every water drop falling on his skin was like a slap in the face. Of course, it would rain the one day he would decide to leave the car in the company garage as he went out to lunch. And of course, it would pour down into an angry curtain of water that he couldn't get out of when it was falling over everything.

The downpour was violent and sudden. It had practically started from a clear sky and it had caught him at the narrow street he'd taken as a shortcut back to his office. It had turned out to be a shortcut to getting soaking wet when there was nowhere to hide from the rain as it seemed to mock him with its steady rhythm and loud noise. Surely, it could have waited for another five minutes that he would've needed to get back to his office but, apparently, his day had been going too well and had had to be ruined.

He wasn't wasting his time glaring at the sky no matter how much he wanted to when he had to stay focused on finding a way to hide from its attack.

An "open" sign drew his gaze and he headed towards the small shop keeping his pace steady. He wasn't going to run from the rain like he was afraid of it. If anything, his jaw only clenched harder at the feeling of the soaked fabric of his suit jacket between his fingers. It was hardly keeping his hair dry anymore and he had nothing else to cover his head. He could have a change of clothes in the office but he still hadn't installed a hairdryer. He hadn't thought it necessary but he was sure to look into the option now since letting the events of the last few minutes repeat was unacceptable.

He pushed the door of the small business establishment to hear a ring that surely couldn't have come from a bell. And indeed, when he looked up, he was met with a wind chime that had a small solar system hanging from it. It was the Sun that the door pushed and sent the whole system into motion producing the sound.

He might have been more interested in it if he weren't in a rush to turn back to the sky and give a victorious smirk now that he'd won. The only times he was getting his hair wet were when he decided to go for a swim in the mansion's pool. Or when there was a pool party. Either way it involved a pool and an incentive and none of that was present currently.

"What can I help you with?" a voice startled him to the effect of him whirling around to the inside of the shop from where it had come as if he'd been caught at the scene of the crime.

The mellow timbre obviously belonged to the woman behind the counter who was the only one in the little space. It seemed business wasn't exactly blooming which was a shame when she herself was a sight worth the visit.

She had purple hair that seemed to cascade down her back in what had to be a braid that he couldn't guess the length of. It hardly mattered when he had her lithe figure in front of his eyes. He could see her curves even under the apron she was wearing and she had the figure of a model which he could attest to after all the time he'd spent in the company of women from all walks of that profession. And her eyes seemed to have shined a light on the thought in his mind with their bright golden color since the look she was giving him was cutting with knowledge of where he'd ended up mentally when he was on her territory.

"Nothing, I'm afraid," he said, his brain protesting when his nose could distinguish the smell of coffee from between the threads of the scent of baked bread and sugar weaving themselves around him. He was more than awake at that time of the day–especially after the surprise bath from the rain–but the yearning for the familiar warmth of a cup of coffee in his hand and the bitter taste of it on his tongue to chase away the cold and sourness left from the downpour washed over him.

"None of my products is catching your appetite?" she asked, making him look around only to feel overwhelmed by the colorful display of sweets and pastries.

He'd entered a bakery. He could've well thought it was a flower shop with all the plants around the place that were in every corner, on every table and even hanging from the ceiling in pots that seemed too small to contain them as they spilled over the sides and reached for him with their green stems. He was getting the vibe of a hostile jungle that was looking to tangle into his hair and keep him in place to feed on his life force until there was nothing left of his muscles and he was done for.

"I'm sorry but do I look like I go anywhere near these things?" he asked, stepping closer to give her the chance to take a better look at him. If she hadn't done that already. She must have had plenty of time to look at him while he'd still been fighting his mental battle with the rain outside and experience had shown that his fitness hours plus a gluten free diet had women turning after him. She wouldn't have even needed to put in the effort to do that when he was right in front of her. Lucky girl.

"Your muscles can't handle a bit of spectacular cooking and a hooking taste?" she asked, propping herself on the counter on her elbows and he was sure that even if the apron hadn't been blocking the view of her cleavage, he still wouldn't have been looking at it when he had his focus pinned on the challenge on her face. It was so potent in the curve of her smirk and the arch of her brow as she looked so pleased with herself. Like she owned the place which was highly likely but it was beside the point. She was too pleased with herself for his liking.

"I was just hiding from the rain," he said, holding her gaze to make it clear he meant to return her insult.

"Your loss," she shrugged, her nonchalance getting on every last one of his nerves and setting them on fire with the outrage rising in him that even the rain hadn't managed to draw out. "My bakery can offer so much more than just shelter and you are the only one that will suffer from not knowing that," she said, her eyes sparkling triumphantly even when he'd gone for her ego.

He'd been quite secure the subtle dig about the unpopularity of her business would have gotten her–surely he would have known about the place as close to his office as it was if it were that good–yet she didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, he was the one with the problem right now.

"You won't kick me out just because I'm not here for the cookies, right?" he asked even though he knew she had a much better reason to kick him out back in the rain. She had the reason and the power and he was having a what could be described as mild adrenaline rush at the thought of being at her mercy. He hadn't quite found himself in a situation like that before which might have been what had had him so haughty before realization had kicked in.

"Of course not," she said, her tone not as light anymore as if she was trying to give her feelings a place to hide where the sun wouldn't find them even if it was nowhere to be seen currently as the clouds provided enough darkness. She seemed to catch that as well and was quick to mend it. "You look like you're gonna melt if you have to go back out in the rain," she said, a glint in her eyes that he couldn't interpret as malicious no matter how hard he tried to do just that.

"You should try going out there before you mock," Valtor snipped, relaxed as much as he could be in the wetness of his pants sticking to his legs and his suit jacket gushing water in his hand–he was leaving a puddle on her floor as he realized, yet she didn't seem bothered by it–now that they were back to teasing. It was a good thing that she wasn't quite as vengeful as he was.

"I have sweets tougher than you," she bit back but the grin on her face was just playful rather than vicious. "Speaking of which, us, peasants, have work to do," she pushed herself off the counter. "You can stay until the rain stops, Your Highness," she threw at him casually before turning her back on him. The audacity.

He had work to do as well. She wasn't the only one who had a business to run. Though, she was probably the only one who was doing it on her own when he had many people to coordinate and manage.

"You know what," he said, glad to see her stop dead in her tracks, "I'll try your infamous sweets." She could have decided that she'd gotten the last word but he had other plans. And since he was the customer, he had the privilege. For once. "I'll take your specialty," he said, only hoping that it wasn't something too sugary. It could be too much for his years of abstinence. Though, he was sure he could manage one bite. He had to.

"That's an excellent choice," she chimed at him immediately, not phased by his sudden change of mind, and moved to grab a plate.

"I will be the judge of that," he said, expecting her to shoot him a dirty glare but she only gave a self-assured smirk as she barely acknowledged him while she worked on serving him.

It had him tensing as if for a fight when he didn't know what he was up against and what smart remark she would whip out next. He hadn't quite felt that in years now that his company had grown so much that all business partners were the ones that had to win him over and not the other way around. It was refreshing when he'd thought it would bother him quite like the rain had.

She seemed to be at the exact opposite specter of experience when she was working swiftly and dexterously, the motions she was going through a second nature. Despite the obvious habit, she didn't seem bored or annoyed with her work. The smile didn't leave her face and her body was not resisting the process like he could feel his own doing sometimes when he'd been buried in documentation so long that he'd missed his physical exercise. She looked like she was at the right place and she knew it with every inch of her being which, as much as it puzzled him–her life did seem a bit too tedious and ordinary if she was taking such pleasure in bantering with him–also drew him to her when she seemed to love her job more than he did his.

"Here you go. My favorite recipe," she said as she served him what looked like a tower of whipped cream–only somehow fluffy and soft like cotton, and extremely violet in color–though that could be just his own twisted perception considering he hadn't had that much sugar in front of him in years.

"What's that?" he asked. If he was about to die from it, might as well know what to blame.

"I call it a Kiss of the Clouds," she said and he was almost sure she was joking but no one could be that good of an actor. Not even her although she seemed to have a plethora of skills, not the least of which leaving him speechless. He had to give her credit for that since it wasn't an easy feat, yet she'd accomplished it without straining herself in the slightest.

"You're serious?" he asked, his gaze moving from the thing to her and then back again. Maybe names were her weakness.

"I'll just let my work speak for itself and shut you up," she said, though whether her voice wavered just the tiniest bit or he was projecting his own internal lack of steadiness, he wasn't sure. He sure hoped he hadn't pulled the thread that could unravel her confidence by accident when he didn't truly want to pull it deliberately either as he wasn't certain he'd enjoy conquering the victory in that fight.

He bit into it rather aggressively only to feel it melt in his mouth and release its taste that was exactly what he would have imagined clouds to taste like if he'd ever taken the time to do that. It was sweet in a way so light it felt like a breeze brushing against your taste buds and there was a refreshing coolness to it that he realized was coming from the tint of mint he could trace to the core of the flavor. It was everything the rain outside had refused to be and he was lost in the strange land of wonder she'd introduced to his brain through food.

"Saw the light, did you?" she asked, and maybe it was her who was projecting because her eyes were the ones shining radiantly with satisfaction as if she'd been the one to have a bite of heaven. And maybe she had. Maybe the approval of her work was all she needed to sustain her confidence and joy. And what a striking thought that was when he could never have enough of anything.

"I might if I eat all of it after all that time I haven't had sugar and I really want to even though I shouldn't," he admitted when discarding his ego for a moment was a small price to pay for the warmth of her company, especially when her eyes were illuminated by pride that was in no way imposing. It made her even more beautiful when it was completely deserved and it would be a crime to deny her the praise her creation was due.

"It's made with stevia. You will be just fine," she said, startling him with how easily she revealed her secret. Not that he could ever come any close to replicating her recipe even if he had the best chefs do it for him, but the instant reassurance coming from her seemed so in character he was annoyed by his own surprise.

"I'm half sure you're only saying that to get me to buy more but it is working nonetheless and I can't do anything about it," he admitted, both to make up for his disbelief in her good nature and because it was true. The only reason he hadn't devoured the whole thing yet was because he was too busy soaking up the interaction with her. It was the best thing he'd ever tasted and he wanted more.

She gave a grin that didn't make him feel like the ground was no longer under his feet when it was only logical as she'd claimed the triumph in their argument. "How many do you want?"

"How many do you have?" Valtor asked when he wasn't ready to give up just yet. Not when losing left him with the taste of her masterpiece in his mouth and not licking the wounds on his ego.

"More than you could possibly eat alone even if you were only feeding on those," she was ready with her answer and it felt good to have someone leading when he knew she wouldn't just let him drop off a cliff. All she did was push him further into thought to come up with something equally as clever and it was more stimulating that the rush of endorphins he got after a training session.

"Who says I'll be eating them alone?" he asked, the thought of making her jealous unable to surface through the visuals of what his parents' parties would look like if they served her desserts. He was sure his mom would love the things enough to try to hire the bakery to work exclusively for them, though that would need to remain just in the dream realm as the woman in front of him would disagree with the notion of working for a sole costumer no matter how much she would get paid. The quantity she was after was not in money and it was obvious by her personal interaction with the costumers.

"I told you that you wouldn't be." Not to mention her sales technique of arguing which wasn't that at all. She wasn't trying to take his money and that he could guarantee for. She'd just shown him what he was missing.

"I'll take seventeen," he decided to give her her victory after she'd done more than deserve it.

"Seventeen?" her forehead creased slightly at the taste of confusion.

"Why does that surprise you?" Valtor asked even though he had the perfect idea. If he stopped being an ass now, she would have no more reason to keep bantering with him, though.

"Seems too specific," she relented as if to prove him wrong. Almost as if she could see through him, though the more realistic–and less self-centered–explanation would be that she just knew when to admit defeat. Unlike him who always got carried away. Though, he supposed she didn't have the means to bail herself out of trouble every so often and needed to be reasonable instead.

"Today is the seventeenth," he offered, watching her lips part from the hitting realization to bring a smirk on his. He'd managed to catch her off guard and he considered it an accomplishment–probably the biggest he'd had in a while since his business policy was rather a habit at this point and any success it brought him could hardly be called a new achievement–even if she recovered quickly.

"Coming right up," she announced as she headed to complete his order. She didn't look offended by his games and it had his heart swell even when it said more about her than it did about him when he'd already said everything about himself she needed to know to draw her conclusions about the kind of person that he was. And she wouldn't be incorrect either.

Her being distracted with packing his Kisses was the perfect opportunity to shove the rest of the one he hadn't finished in his mouth but he restrained himself no matter how much he wanted to. He could take his Kiss home. The conversation with her he could only have here and he was already running out of time as she'd probably go back to her work once she had finalized her sale. He'd already filled up more of her time than she probably had for him.

"How did you get the idea for these?" he asked as he focused on her even if he could barely see her behind the wall of sweets standing between them. Far more than he could eat no matter how much he would love to have the sight of her in front of him again. His efforts to keep his fingers off of her Kiss would have to be enough to show his determination when he would get too lost in the taste–or the tender violet color that was an echo of her hair color distant enough to make the resemblance dreamy as if it was part of a magical world he didn't belong in–to hear her story. At least one of the many he was sure her bakery harbored like it was a storybook.

"Well, most people only ever see clouds as something undesirable. They either hide the sunshine needed for tanning or bring rain to soak them when they didn't have the foresight to bring umbrellas and ruin their mood when they can't find the beauty in something seemingly lacking charm," she said and Valtor was only able to rationalize she wasn't describing him when he kept his own question in mind. She'd just met him and he was sure as hell not the center of her universe. "I've always found a certain kind of magic in the clouds. They can revive the earth when they give their rain and they can be a source of joy if you have the imagination to find amusement in them," she said, most certainly catching his bewilderment even if he hadn't seen her look at him as she continued. "Ever looked at the clouds and tried to find what they look like? My favorite was the shape of a dragon I saw in them a few years back. It looked so regal... Majestic."

"A dreamer, huh?" Valtor asked, his question far more mocking than he'd intended, though he should've known when that was his default. He actually admired her for getting herself where she was without losing her spark of eccentricity and her curious approach to the world. A dragon sounded like something that would catch her attention, indeed.

"Well, we can't be all practical...ly boring," she teased as she emerged from her world of homemade wonders–there was no other way to describe what she could do with her cooking and the fairytale places she could take you to through your sense of taste–and he didn't have a good enough answer even though he hadn't grown up struggling to become who he was and he hadn't needed to sacrifice his dreams for the wealth he had. "That would be-"

"Keep the change," Valtor said as he slid a hundred on the counter. He didn't feel like a fifty would be enough to compensate for all of her time that he'd taken up with his entitlement.

"That's a bit too generous," she said, making no move to take the money. "Even if you won't go broke, Valtor."

The sound of his name when he hadn't given it was more startling that the whole experience had been when he'd given her his honesty. Indirectly as it may have been, but she had certainly given the impression she'd been able to read him. She couldn't have read his name in their meeting, though. She'd known it beforehand.

"You know who I am?" he asked, his mind not even paying attention to the redundancy he was spewing when it was still stuck on figuring out what her words meant for him.

"I do," she didn't offer more and he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking how. Even if that didn't help sever the need to know whether she recognized him from a business magazine or from a tabloid. He sure hoped it was the first even when hope had never been his thing. He wasn't good at it and it wasn't good to him in return. And the way they were clawing at each other currently was the perfect proof since there was no way she didn't see him as the playboy he was and yet, there was still a spark of hope inside him for the opposite that refused to go out. Maybe it was just tempted to shine as bright as her eyes even when he doubted he could ever be capable of that.

"Do I get a name? Or should I go look outside?" he asked, ever so confident in himself. Although, this time it felt a lot more like desperation.

"I'm afraid it's a bit trickier than that," she said, her words bouncing off the walls of her candy house to start painting it a nightmare now. "My name is for loyal customers." Her words stung with the implication of the truth in them.

"So I can buy the privilege to know it?" he hid behind his ever growing green wall when she could deliver a devastating blow even though she'd proven by now it was not her goal. It was low of him to think that when all she wanted was to make people happy. She was making little pieces of heaven and he still couldn't trust her. It really said more about him than he'd ever wanted to hear.

"You can earn it," she said, the first tint of sharpness tainting the sound of her voice. As if she was trying to cut through the shade of green that did nothing for her among the comfort of her plants, yet he'd painted all around them and he couldn't decide which one of them would have crumpled the banknote still lying on the counter more if holding it. "You can't buy everything with money," she slid his back towards him to punctuate.

"What do you think I'm trying to buy?" he asked, leaning on her counter casually as if his brain had failed to deduce she most certainly had knives lying around and would need just one precise stab to pop his inflated ego.

"My time," she said, the words piercing through him the same way her eyes had allowed her to see everything. "More Kisses perhaps," she held his gaze burning through his resolve to contain the impulse to lick his lips when she'd spread another one of the delicious fantasies she was cooking up over them. It would be all she needed to kick him out in the rain that would wash all of them out of his mind so he had to be careful. He didn't want to get soaked through to the soul.

"Well then, I can try it your way." He took back his hundred and left her the fifty that should have been on her counter from the start. "I can be very loyal," he said, pocketing his change to illustrate he'd received her message loud and clear even if he'd forced her to send it through a channel she wouldn't normally use.

"That's not the impression one gets from the media." And there was the answer to his hope. Another slap in the face. Or was it a paparazzi flashlight–always meant for the model next to him–in his eyes that could very well be the reason he would never get to see the real her?

"The media doesn't know me." Of course, it didn't. It would be hard for anyone else to know him when he hardly knew himself these days. Somewhere down the road of being the heir to a big business he'd lost the sensitivity of his soul and he'd been trying to fill the hole left after it with anything he could get his hands on. Even his parents' love hadn't helped when it couldn't get attached to the emptiness in his heart that was all his doing and he'd tried to buy something big enough to fill it.

"Fair enough," she said and the two words were like a flood trying to sweep him away.

Naturally, he did what he was used to and tightened his grip on her counter to the point where he would have suffocated it if it had been a living, breathing thing. No wonder everyone had trouble staying with him when he was clutching the same way at people. No one would smile while getting asphyxiated in his embrace.

She smiled at him and a ray of sunshine hit the counter forcing him to relinquish it–just like the clouds had relinquished the sun–if he didn't want his fingers scorched by the raw power it held.

#winx club #winx valtor #winx griffin #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my wtiting #bakery au #au

6 notes · View notes

toloveawarlord · 5 years

Text

Ch. 1

This wasn’t meant to be finished anytime soon since her creation just happened yesterday. But.... here it is anyways. Tagging @plumpblueberry for loving Aster the moment I made her.

The sun bared down on her, adding sizzling heat to her already sweaty skin. Days were meant for hiding, resting, and sifting through all the goods that had been previously obtained, but today had a special treat. Only once a month did a merchant bring goods from Central Quarter all the way out to the outskirts of Diamond Territory. The only thing that could draw the little dragon out from her den. The wonderous smells of freshly baked pastries, cooked to absolute perfection. Her mouth watered simply imaging the gooey goodness melting in her mouth.

First, a little fun.

Despite the regularity of this event, despite all their efforts to trap and catch her on this fated day, Aster managed to evade them. The men all dressed in crisps white and red uniforms, and they hailed from the Red Army, stationed out here in the middle of nowhere. With hardly anything else to do, they awaited this day like clockwork. They plotted, planned, always trying to outsmart the girl and failing spectacularly each time.

Evading would be too easy. Being undetected a simple task.

Playing around them suited her just fine on this day. It would a shame not to test out what ridiculous traps they had set up to capture her.

Dust rose from the dirt road under her feet. Worn old muddy shoes carried her through the crowd, ducking and weaving through them. Nearly no one noticed, occasionally a passing glance that saw nothing, like the touch of a ghost written off as the wind.

No shouts followed her today, a strange occurrence. A trap. Yet, having to use her wits to avoid the army soldiers, who gradually learned that the chances of getting close to her increased when their positions weren’t revealed, sent a wave of electric exhilaration tingling over down her body. Try as they might, catching her neared the impossible.

Ducking down a narrow alleyway, Aster lithely hopped upward, using the crates stacked precariously perfect to allow access to the ledge of a small balcony. The ideal vantage point. She snuck a bite of the bun, allowing the warm apple filling to dance across her taste buds. Three, no four, were in pursuit of her. One attempting to blend in with the townspeople, out of uniform but unusually clean. That bearded face one that Aster could recognize anywhere.

“It seems that they require new training, wouldn’t you agree?” An unfamiliar, yet cheerful voice drew her attention away from the buffoons parading around the streets, like wild monkeys. The uniform familiar but much more detailed and unique. Someone important.

Aster crumpled the empty wrapper of her treat and tossed it over her shoulder through the open window behind her. “I here the army only employs idiots who can’t catch a common thief,” Aster answered, remaining on her perch.

The light chuckle brought from her statement gave indication of his intent to play. “Oh, well, that just won’t do. May I reeducate you?” Dipping down in a slight bow, the man kept his watchful jade eyes on her, sparkling with anticipation and delight.

A new player.

Her tongue darted out from between her lips, lapping up the stray spot of apple filling off the side of her mouth. “You’ll lose,” she answered, rising to stand on the balcony ledge, arms out for balance. All a show.

“Do I get the pleasure of acquiring my prey’s name before I begin the hunt?” His tinkling voice offset the threatening words that dripped off his tongue. They had the same desire. The chase giving a thrill like none other.

Aster tilted her head, repeating the inquiry. “Do I?”

Placing his hand over his heart, giving another gracefully shallow bow, he replied, “Edgar Bright, the Jack of Hearts.”

“Aster, no fancy titles,” She answered, giving a mock salute with two fingers. Her advantage clear; intimately knowing the town’s streets and obstacles. Having a new pursuer would not change those facts.

Edgar straightened, tucking his hat under his arm to brush his hand through his brown locks. “Shall I give you a head start?” It mattered not if he did, the confidence that he would catch her showed clearly in his eyes. His only advantage the experience of nearly a decade more of training. The wind blew around them, howling through the alleyway like a warning of the start of the game.

Aster broke out in laughter, making her sides ache. Oh, she liked this one. White hair fluttered around her face, wind dancing around her, almost as if beckoning her to follow its path. “Good luck, Mr. Jack of Hearts.” Twisting gracefully on the ledge, like a dancer turning a pirouette, Aster cast a smirk back at him. “You’re gonna need it.”

The drop down to the other side of the crumbling wall that divided the alley in the middle jarred her body, a rush of adrenaline accompanying the pain. It had been some time since the thrill of being chased put a permanent smile on her lips.

The busy market street aided in hiding her small frame in the masses. Sweeping under a large horse, Aster spotted a soldier ahead, pointing at her and shouting. Her path easily redirected down a side street, placing her just out of their blockade. It must be his doing. A boring tactic, but the chase had only just begun.

The more she wound through the town, the more blockades she met, an attempt to keep her from leaving town. Edgar never reappeared in her sight, but his presence carried on the breeze, nipping at her heels. Run as far as you like, little mouse, you won’t escape.

Aster winded through the streets until she reached the town hall. The stalemate in the chase begged her to gain some ground. The windows lining the three floors were perfectly placed for climbing the side of the building. The flat roof giving a perch for her to wander and examine all her options. Pulling her body up and over the edge, her safe haven had been taken by intruders.

More military men, all equally as well dressed as Edgar, stood in her path. Red eyes analyzed them, all carrying weapons aside from one. This had been his intention. Though Edgar enjoyed a good chase, his mission had been to collect her for his king. By managing her movements, he’d brought her here without her realizing. Edgar clapped his hands together. “Had no one been here, I do believe you would have won.” His admittance fake, but he smiled at her all the same.

Aster cocked her head to the side. “Who says I’ve lost?”

“Don’t be such a child. We have you cornered,” Another interjected, amber eyes pulled narrowly at her.

“The cornered rat will always bite the cat,” she recited, shoulders shrugging innocently. Stepping back, she fell softly onto the ledge to rest her sore legs. Her eagerness to have a new opponent had drove her to run more than before. Hiding took much less energy. “Six ways out, seven if I kill one of you.” Her eyes flickered to Kyle, sourcing their weakest link easily.

Folding her legs up criss-cross, she retrieved a small loaf of bread, sinking her teeth down into it. “I’ll assume that this wasn’t all for a common thief’s capture. So, what does the esteemed Red Army want with me?” Pigeons gathered around her, pecking softly at the crumbs that fell away around her.

“Watch your tone. You’re speaking to the King of Hearts.” Again, the man with the amber eyes snapped at her, like a guard dog protecting its master.

Edgar stepped forward to diffuse the ticking bomb of a superior. “Easy, Jonah. She’s riling you up on purpose.” His gaze fell on her once again, assessing her calm behavior. Surrounded by soldiers yet no signs of fear or concern. Quite intriguing. “Aster, you’re quite skilled. Can I inquire how old you are?”

“Too young for any of you.”

“Do you not know?” Surely an estimate could be made. A teenager, clearly.

The girl sprinkled more crumbles of bread on the ground in front of her, drawing more pigeons. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, thoughtfully watching the birds in front of her. “Sixteen, and some odd months. You still haven’t answered my question. What do you want? It’s really not worth your time to chase down a girl that steals a loaf of bread or two.”

Her knowledge of the army was limited, but the Chosen 13 were still revered here. His title as the Jack of Hearts, and the other man having the King of Hearts, had her curious. This town way out in Diamond Territory had never once been visited by them, and no reason presented itself as to why they would.

The King of Hearts with his icy blue eyes and regal cape draping over his shoulders sent a wicked glare at her. “I’m growing tired of this. You will come back to headquarters with us, immediately. If you refuse, we will use force.” His word absolute.

To those who cared.

Aster grinned plopping the final piece of bread into her mouth, savoring the taste of the herbs used to flavor it. Her palms swiped over her ripped pants, sending the final crumbs tumbling to the ground. “Yeah, no. I don’t plan on going anywhere unless it’s of my own free will.”

Jonah retrieved a pair of glimmering silver handcuffs, adorned with gold roses. “As the Queen of Hearts, I am ordering you to comply.” The pair of them had equally intense gazes.

“Cute handcuffs, but again, I’m a little young for that, don’t you think?”

Her words stopped him from stepping closer, disgust crossing his doll-like features. “What a crass little girl.” Jonah shook the indecision away, intent on bringing her with them. He would carry her if he must.

Aster’s mock salute directed at Edgar was accompanied with a wink. “I never lose, remember?” Striking her foot back against the thin metal piece of siding of the roof, the rattle echoed. The pigeons scattered, taking flight in all directions, blocking their path to her. Aster rolled back, allowing herself to fall from the rooftop.

Right on top of a passing cart full of hay. The scratchy bails marring her pale skin with red scratches. As quickly as she had landed, she disappeared into the shadows, to hide once again. “It would have been more fun to play with them some more, but it isn’t worth my freedom.” The wind carried her whisper away, her only remaining companion.

Home called to her, beckoning its little dragon back into it’s comforting clutches. Her time in the small time had begun to draw to a close.

Oc hell is dragging me further and further down into it!

#she is gonna have some good times working with the red army #her sense of humor gets me every time #ikemen revolution #ikerev #edgar bright #lancelot kingsley #jonah clemence #kyle ash #zero #red army #aster #ghost in the starlight #chapter 1

30 notes · View notes

azfellandco · 5 years

Text

Aziraphale and Crowley are snuggled on the couch watching The Great British Bakeoff one day and Crowley says offhandedly “I could win this competition.” And Aziraphale’s like, “you? You, who miracle 75% of all soufflés you make? Who burnt that bread so badly that time it started a house fire—“ “—c’mon angel, that was centuries ago—“ “—I’d like to see you get through multiple rounds of elimination without giving yourself away somehow, you ridiculous thing.”

Which of course Crowley takes as a Personal Challenge so he signs up and gets in by the skin of his teeth (and maybe by offering one of the other prospective contestants a very lucrative deal on a small building in London so she can open the bakery she’s always dreamed about) and Aziraphale is furious, every week Crowley calls home to gloat and every week Aziraphale is positive somebody is going to catch him doing magic and also why does everyone like him so much, Crowley usually isn’t this comfortable around strangers, this is absurd and he’s acting for television but Aziraphale is like... lowkey jealous of the fact that he’s charmed all the other contestants and the judges as well. Aziraphale fumes privately that if Crowley wins it’ll be because he cheated by unfairly leaning on demonic powers and charisma.

And then Crowley calls home that he’s been elimated in semi-finals, and it’s over something Aziraphale has seen him do perfectly well a thousand times before, with or without magic. He’s fully prepared for Crowley to come home and beat himself up about making a stupid mistake for weeks so he’s getting ready to switch into supportive boyfriend mode instead of petty and competitive mode but Crowley comes home with a grin and seems perfectly find and it turns put he intentionally messed up his pastry because he didn’t want to see any of the others go home that round, he’d had his fun and proven his point and they all deserve to be there more than he does and Aziraphale’s like... wow, I truly do love this stubborn, sentimental idiot, don’t I.

And then when the season comes out they watch it together and laugh at the way the editors have clearly tried to frame Crowley as sort of mysterious because he never takes his sunglasses off and Crowley’s a little confused and embarrassed by the two or three other contestants who very clearly had a crush on him because he didn’t notice it at the time but watching it back on camera it is... incredibly obvious.

The two of them visit the bakery that belongs to the woman Crowley nudged out at the beginning every couple of months and every time Crowley says to Aziraphale as they’re driving back home that he thinks she probably would have won if he hadn’t taken her place so he’s glad he did it because otherwise they’d never be able to get into her shop, it’d be too busy.

#i’ve watched all of gbbo and i am... sad abt it #what wholesome cooking thing will i have on the the background now :(#my writing #a&c

209 notes · View notes

shinahbee · 3 years

Photo

The Third Ending

Hello

Here is another recommendation for you all to read and it's called " the third ending" Its fairly new, but has a very good plot line. I have talked about this in my march favorites journal but i'll post the summary here again.

Manhwa summary:

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

“Seo Yoon Seul, who's lived a perfect life so far, becomes a wreck when he starts having nightmares of a boy whom he coldly rejected when he was a student. The nightmares get even worse when he reunites with Kang Joon. Following his advice on becoming a good person to avoid nightmares, Yoon Seul approaches him to win his favor.” firstly there is nothing more appealing than a guy that's into baking...am I right ladies? This is one of the newer series that had been published recently but have gotten some rather good attention. I had my doubts but I read it and it was actually really good so far, I was impressed. The characters are really likable especially joon, he works in a local bakery and he likes making cookies, in fact he made his crush, yoon seul some yuzu cookies for his birthday, not for any particular reason he just wanted to give it to him. I don’t know about you guys but a guy that loves to bake gets me every time, the fact that it wasn’t the basic kind of cookies too and he put so much effort into it is really endearing.

The story starts off with yoon seul waking up to a confession from a boy during his high school years and he had been consistently having that dream for a while and each time he had the dream the person he rejected would act differently. He started to actually lose sleep over it until one night when his family asked him to pick up some bread on the way back and so he stopped at a new bakery near his work place and low and behold, the guy who confessed to him was working at the cash register, that was then he finally remembered his face, this was of course kang joon. Of course the two of them felt a little awkward and thought the other didn’t remember what happened in high school, so they pretended not to know each other. Later yoon seul kept having that dream gain after seeing joon, his brother think it’s because he rejected him harshly so it was karma.lol. yoon seul thought the best way to solve the problem was to keep visiting joon every day to buy bread, he tried changing his hairstyle every day to get joon’s attention only to receive the same cold response “ that will be 2300 won” he was going to give up until he visited during the day time and joon was taking over for another worker that was sick, joon works the night shift only and that’s usually when yoon seul picks up bread after work. Joon ended up accidentally spilling some pastries onto yoon seul after being startled by him. This lead to a good chance for them to talk and joon wanted to pay for yoon seul’s suit to be dry cleaned, but instead yoon seul asked if he can grab lunch together instead.lol. After reacquainting himself with joon he found that he liked hanging out with him so he wanted to become friends and hang out more often, of course joon is being conflicted because of what happened in high school but took him on his offer when he asked to see a movie with him.

I think my favorite part was the attempted “date” they went on because yoon seul dressed up so nicely and his sister was like “what kind of girl got you to act like this?” and he nonchalantly said “it’s a guy” and dressed up really well as if he was going on a date. But on his date with joon a lot of shit happened like getting the movie date times mixed up and going into a restaurant where people broke out into a fight.LOL. Not getting into any places to sit for coffee because it was all full. I’m reading this and laughing cause this stuff happens to me a lot, so very relatable. Yoon seul as a character is an interesting character, he may seem like a dick but he really just is blunt and speaks his mind, he doesn’t bother with things that he can’t gain from lol. Basically the dudes trying to min/max his life to the fullest, and with joon, he just finds that they were compatible in conversation and mannerisms so that is why yoon seul enjoys his company. thanks to the recent updates I think I know why it's called the third ending, lol because third times the charm~ you can't really blame yoon seul for not returning joon's feelings earlier on, you can't force yourself to have feelings for someone, I just think he needs time to figure it out himself what the difference is from normal friendship that he has with his bros, to how i treat a person I have feelings for. I think eventually yoon seul will understand that he likes joon romantically, I can't wait to see that happen for them. that's all for this week, please read it on bomtoon and support the author!

you can follow the author on twitter!

https://twitter.com/cho__vom

here is all my social media below, please follow me! sheena

#yaoi manhwa #yaoi fanart #shounen ai #bl manhwa #bl manga #yaoi manga #manhwa fanart #anime fanart #manga review #korean manhwa #bl fanart #anime and manga #manga couple

1 note · View note

helpimstuckindreamland · 5 years

Text

Nov. 23-24

I'm in a big, old stone library. It looks like it's at least 300 years old. multiple stories tower up and tunnel below, making it impossible to really know how many floors there were. I'm on the ground floor, in the lobby, looking for a book. I don't really have anything in particular I'm looking for so im mosying through aisles of shelves and walking around round tables with both young and old sitting, reading, or typing. I guess the addict in me has decided it's time for a break so I step out for a cigarette. I try to stand on the edge of the library property to keep from bothering anyone but someone comes up to me and asks me to walk across the street anyway. I shrug and step off the curb and hop over the train tracks, keeping the library in sight so I wouldn't get lost. from across the street the library looks like a huge medieval church. I pull out two ceramic bowls full of food from my backpack. I'm sitting on the curb munching away with my chopsticks when I get this weird feeling that I need to go back inside. I put my bowl back in my pack and make my way across the tracks again. I pass an old raggedy man who points across the street, where I left one of my bowls. I shrug at him and go inside. Its dark inside and I'm worried everyone's left and I've been locked in. But the lights turn on when I get to the lobby desk and everything looks exactly as it did when I had left for my cigarette break. I remember why I came across the street again; I'm supposed to go see all of my siblings tonight for a get together but I'm over the river in the city so I'll have to take a train. Im a well-versed city dweller, so I've taken the train more times than I care to admit but things are different this time. They've recently done renovations and nothing looked the same, save for the train tracks themselves. The tracks to specific destinations are all color coded and there's at least 6 different lines of tracks. I'm not sure which way they go but I know I need to go over the river and not deeper into the city. I'm sitting there trying to figure it out when my older sister and a mutual friend comes up. They ask me if I've figured out what train to get on. I look up at the lighted signs above the terminals. There's no words, just colors and symbols. After 10 min I start getting anxious, the train is gonna be there soon. Our mutual friend finds a map and we figure out we need to get on the green train. We race across, looking both ways so as not to get flattened by any incoming trains and get to the terminal just in time.

All of the trains arrive at once but there's no vocal announcement as to where they're headed. However, they came from the direction I didn't want to go so I get on confidently.

and it's like we're suddenly plopped out, onto…. nothing? We're hundred of feet above the river below us but it's so dark out that everything looks black. I'd panic but we're not falling and it seems like theres a line of people in front of me all crouching on the same invisible bridge. we start to scootch forward and I catch glimpses of a corner to my right. There must be a wall. As my eyes adjust I can just barely make out what it is we're on. something like jello, except its surface doesn't break when you put pressure on it, and it's almost entirely invisible save for the little light that highlights it's surfaces and corners. Despite my eyes adjusting, there was almost no light, making the view in front of me look black. It was beautiful. I could see where the blackness of the water met a deeper, matted black was of the hills on the other side. Putting my hand on the invisible wall I start scooting forward, in awe of it all. the stars above start to give the bridge a glittery appearance and as I move forward, a brighter light starts to peek out from behind the hills and it illuminates the ripples in the water. as we keep going the moon becomes more visible through the trees. I'm so happy to see her I start to sing. Everyone around me is smiling at my goofy expression of joy and as I sing her aura takes on an array of colors like blue and pink and yellow. I'm so happy.

We're about halfway across when we can see the steps leading up, off the bridge and into the hillside. There were people walking down it and crossing the bridge in the opposite direction as us. They were kind of like people but I wasn't sure if they were. As I get closer I can see they're completely metallic and it shown in a liquidy kind of way. Like mercury. They moved so gracefully and chatted quietly with one another. I had a feeling they were on a higher plane than the rest of us. I got a little worried, this is the first time everyone coming over has used this bridge and the only people returning were these mercury beings.

I decided to stay on my toes and keep alert. We get to the bottom of the staircase and, looking up, it's beautiful, but in a dark, starry, ancient knowledge kind of way. It was still dark around us and the stairs were made of the same invisible Galaxy gelatin as the bridge, but there are shiny metallic guard rails going down the center of the stairs. Words are engraved into it at the top like some kind of logo. Then a voice, female and kinda commercially robotic in the background, thanks us for coming to virtiv, from unseen speakers. I'm still suspicious but honestly in awe of it all. I must've gotten to the top cuz soon I was at my friends house, where she was baking me the cookies I won from a bet between us. She seems flustered so i end up following her while asking how she is. She walks to a conveyor belt where sweets are being moved and then dropped off, onto the floor, which happened to be a cloud I guess. I catch a cake as it falls anyway, not wanting to see such beauty splattered onto the floor. My friend grabs a stick with a ball at the end. But she drops it and it comes apart revealing the ball to be a bread roll and the sticks to be like a four piece chopstick set, held together in the center by string and used for making unique designs in pastries. She gets really upset by the fact that it fell apart. But my mind is elsewhere, the bread roll and 4 piece chopsticks a strong visual in my head.

I start to think of the other pastries it could be used in and soon my mind drifts off to cake decorating and dessert shaping

I wake up

0 notes

tuxiedjabberwock · 7 years

Text

This Was My Lucy - a Fairy Tail one-shot

So this was the other Nalu angst week one-shot I wrote, but it was unfinished. Considering it was half-written, I chugged out a finisher, but judging by how tired it made me, I won’t be finishing the rest of them. :/

» memories

» this was my lucy…

Gray was never a fan of waking up early, not even when Ur would make the most enticing breakfasts and Ultear would shake the hell out of him and pour boiling water over his head, but some odd force brought him out of his daze long enough to catch the doorbell ringing. “Who in hell can that be at…” he peered groggily at his cellphone, “…seven in the morning?”

He dragged himself from bed and slunk to the front door of his apartment, undoing the lock with a yawn. He barely had his hand around the doorknob before the door slammed open—right in his face. “Ice Princess, you up?”

“…I am now,” he growled from the floor, a good-morning welt forming on his forehead. Natsu blinked down at him with hands on his jean-clad hips.

“What’re you doin’ down there?”

“Just enjoying the view. Why the hell do you think? And why are you here so freaking early, ash-for-brains? Didn’t I tell you not to bug me with your hyperactive ass until past twelve?”

“You did, but, uh…” He looked awkward, and Natsu almost never looked awkward, nor did he ever try to bury himself in his father’s scarf like right then unless he was feeling especially shamefaced. Gray sighed and got to his feet, dusting himself off.

“Get in already before all my cold air gets out. I’ll take a shower and be right with you.”

“You need to let out some of this cold air,” Natsu grumbled as he moved inside and flopped onto his couch. Gray shook his head before heading to the bathroom and starting up the shower. He yawned again as he stepped inside the stall.

I haven’t seen that idiot so bothered since he moved here, he thought. What could have him so upset? Igneel? Nah, that anniversary’s not until next month. Especially for him to run over here—we don’t talk too much to begin with. If it was anyone else, I’d think it was a girl, but Natsu’s skull is harder than a brick wall when it comes to romance.

“Okay, what’s the big issue here?” Gray said as he returned to the living room. Natsu was sitting cross-legged on the floor now, and although he was staring at the television—which wasn’t turned on—his eyes were distant. He blinked back to the present at the sound of Gray’s voice.

“I got some errands to run today,” he said. “And I need help.”

“And I was the first person that came to mind?”

“You’re my closest friend,” he responded. Gray raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms.

“What errands?” Natsu didn’t respond right away, getting to his feet.

“Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

“You wanna stop being so cryptic and just tell me what we’re doing?”

“…I want to apologize,” he finally admitted, looking away briefly before meeting Gray’s eyes. Those emerald irises of his were blazing like fire. “To this girl I love.”

“To a girl…you love?” he echoed, the words not computing. “You love someone?” Natsu nodded without breaking eye contact. “I never thought I’d see the day…”

“Will you help me or not?” he blurted in frustration. Gray wasn’t really planning on laying around all day, he did have things to do himself, but something about Natsu’s expression was so uncharacteristically desperate that he couldn’t help but pity him. He thought that the pink-haired moron loved two things, fire and food, but from his face and tone alone, Gray could glean how much she meant to him.

Can’t believe I’m doing this, but… “Where to?”

“This girl, what’s her name?” Gray asked as they reached a red light. Natsu was slumped in the passenger’s seat while staring blankly through the window.

“Lucy,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue like a prayer, spoken with reverence. Gray remembered using that same tone to talk about Ur once upon a time.

“Lucy what?”

“Just Lucy… She liked it like that. ‘Just Lucy—I’m nothing else,’ she’d tell me all the time.” He chuckled at the memory.

“She’s in your old town?” Natsu never told Gray where he moved from, just that it was pretty far from Magnolia. He had only even been living in Magnolia for the last six months or so and didn’t talk about himself much at all. Gray could count on one hand the facts he knew about Natsu: his dad’s name was Igneel, he had a brother, and he was probably the smartest-dumbest person he knew.

“Nah, she’s back in her hometown,” he told him. “Her family wanted her there.”

“And I’m guessing you haven’t seen her since…whatever happened?” Natsu shook his head. The light changed and they headed towards downtown. Natsu directed him into a plaza full of shady shops, the kind with self-painted names over the canopy, and led him into one with a black Harley Davidson parked out front. Gray was perplexed, but Natsu seemed fairly confident as he pushed inside, a little bell signaling their entrance. The place was a CD shop filled with old ‘80s bands that he barely knew of, and the cashier was a rough-looking man he recognized after a second.

“Gajeel, you work here?”

“Own it,” he corrected, regarding first Gray, then Natsu with his sharp red eyes. “What’re you two doin’ here?”

“Levy’s quill and ink. Can I get it?” Natsu asked, jumping straight to the point. Both Gray and Gajeel gave him a bewildered look.

“Why the hell?” Gajeel asked.

“It’s for a girl.”

“From you, to a girl? And she’s human?”

“You wanna pick a fight!?”

“Hey, sure you can have ‘em, but I gotta come along to see her.” Natsu shrugged to show that it was whatever and Gajeel reached under the counter to pull out an unopened bottle of ink and a wrapped quill. “I’m guessin’ your girl’s a writer too?”

“Yeah, she loves telling stories,” he said, carefully shifting the items into his drawstring bag. “It’s how we met, actually. C’mon, next stop.”

Natsu and Gajeel had a mini-brawl outside over who would sit in the passenger’s side (since Gajeel cared very little about Natsu’s emotional state, or at least prioritized the seat over Natsu’s emotional state) and since Gajeel was bigger and buffer and able to body Natsu out of the seat, he won the fight. “Where to next?” Gray asked as Natsu sulked in the backseat.

“The bakery.” Gray raised an eyebrow as he reversed from the parking spot. Natsu went there often to talk to Erza, but not as a customer—he hated sweets with a burning (no pun intended) passion.

“So, Dragneel,” Gajeel said into the silence, “you gonna spill about this girl of yours?”

“…She loves writing,” he said after a moment’s thought. “We had English together and she’d always know every little detail about whatever we read. I’m no prick about bookworms or anything like that, but one day I asked her, ‘How come you like reading so much?’

“And she got all red and nervous and eventually she told me: ‘I…wanna be a journalist. So I study up on others’ writing to better myself.’” He gave a goofy smile unlike his normal manic one and itched the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I’m not a big reader, but I told her, ‘Well, if you ever need some action shots, call me, cuz I love gettin’ into the thick of things.’ And she laughed, and I realized how much I love that sound. I gave her my phone number so she would, but the first time she called, we talked all night about random things we like, like music and places.”

Gray pulled into the bakery’s parking lot and they walked inside to see Mirajane and her sister working hard at the counter for the midmorning customers. Erza was near the front at the display window looking over a rack of strawberry coffee cakes before she saw the others through the glass. “I don’t suppose you’ve finally wised up to the delicious wiles of baked goods, Natsu?” she said as they entered.

“Never!” he cried petulantly, earning an exasperated look from Gray that he returned full-force. “You got an eye problem or something, ice princess?”

“It’s you with the problem here, you pyrotechnics piss-ant,” he growled in return as they bumped foreheads. Erza easily sliced a hand between them and tossed them apart.

“There will be no fighting in this safe haven, understood?” she warned, giving them each a look that would peel lead paint.

“Aye!” Natsu and Gray complied.

“Now, Natsu, what is it that you need?”

“Um…” He looked around for a moment before his eyes lit up and, going over to the breads section, took up a bag of blueberry bagels. “These!”

“Bagels? We couldn’t have gotten them at the grocery store?” Gajeel snorted.

“Nah, Lucy likes ‘em fresh. It all tastes the same to me though.”

“Everything tastes the same when you guzzle it without chewing,” Gray pointed out. Natsu ignored that and joined the line, and Gray brought the others back to the car to wait for him.

“Why is Natsu buying blueberry bagels?” Erza asked him.

“They’re for a girl, quote-unquote.”

“A girl, for Natsu?” she asked, an eyebrow cocked. “I know he’s full of surprises, but something of this magnitude…”

“Yeah, our reaction exactly,” Gajeel smirked. “If ya want, ya can tag along to see her too.”

“Oh?” She considered the offer for a moment. “Well, I don’t have work until the evening. Why not?”

Natsu looked less than pleased to see Erza crammed into the car as well, but jumped inside without a word. “Central Park,” he told Gray.

“So, Natsu, about this girl,” Erza said as silence descended on them through the car ride. Natsu shrugged a shoulder and turned his head to the window, but it didn’t hide the redness creeping over his ears.

“We met, we talked, we became friends,” he said vaguely.

“That ain’t what ya said before, pinky,” Gajeel jeered.

“Okay, okay! We started talking a lot more, and we would always meet up at this park on the weekends. Since it’s not too far from the bakery, she would come with pastries, even when I kept telling her I don’t like sugar. She’d pout, and then one day she was like, ‘I’ll make you like them.’ I didn’t get what she meant until the next morning.” His whole ears and the back of his neck flushed pink and he ducked into his scarf. “She covered her lips in powdered sugar and kissed me.”

“Aww, look at Dragneel blushing,” Gajeel cooed, making kissy faces at him. Natsu growled and snapped at him while Gray laughed.

“Was that your first kiss?” Erza was all genial, not patronizing like Gajeel and Gray, and Natsu relaxed a bit.

“Un… Yeah,” he said after a moment. “It was.” Another pause, then his eyelids lowered. “And it was my last.”

No one knew what to say as they walked onto the park grounds. It was ten o’clock, so the early morning residents were just filing in. The playground squeaked and rang with children’s laughter, and excited dogs barked into the sky. Natsu ignored it all and moved straight towards an unassuming bench a few paces from the path. Next to it was a barren lemon tree, and tied around the middle of the trunk was a blue hair ribbon. “I’d like to see her, but her hometown’s a four-hour plane ride away,” he said softly, standing right in front of the tree. “But this is the place where I feel closest to her, in all of Magnolia.”

“Natsu?” Gray asked. Natsu smiled without mirth, then his lips pulled into a frown as he stooped down before the tree, absently tracing patterns on the smooth bark.

“We sorta dodged each other after the kiss, because we didn’t know what it would mean for us. That was a stupid decision. Anyway, I went to her apartment one day to finally break the ice, and she wasn’t home, but the door was open. I saw her keys lying on her bed, and…she always had these little golden keys, kinda like trinket Keyblades, that she carried with her everywhere. She had nine, but there was another one next to the rest, and it was broken in two. I waited for a couple of hours, but she didn’t come back, and eventually I had to leave.

“The next day she wasn’t in class, but there was this other girl, Brandish, that she was really close with. Brandish said that Lucy lost her best friend Aquarius that day, and that she didn’t know the details, but she saw how harshly Lucy blamed herself for it. I went looking for Lucy all that day and all the next day, but it was like she disappeared. Then, eventually, I found out where she’d gone.” He reached into the folds of his scarf and produced the cover page of a newspaper, holding it out. The four of them unfolded it and crowded around to read the headline:

“TWENTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD COLLEGE STUDENT FOUND DEAD IN HARGEON.”

“She blamed herself,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how much. I wasn’t there for her, and that’s my biggest regret ever. That’s why I want to apologize.”

“Natsu…” Gray sighed, but there was nothing he could say. The only one who could give him the reprieve he needed was Lucy, and she couldn’t. Erza knelt down and rested her hands on his shoulders, leaning into his back. Gray joined her on the ground and rested an elbow against Natsu’s side. Gajeel looked uncomfortable for a moment, then crouched awkwardly next to their small gathering.

“’m sorry, Lucy,” he mumbled, gripping his scarf hard. He sniffed, then repeated it slightly louder as the first tears began to fall. They let him have his moment of silence, trying and failing not to cry, then he regressed into hiccoughs and scrubbed at his face with the tail of his shirt.

“Here.” Erza offered her handkerchief that Natsu took without a word, wiping his reddened eyes.

“Thanks, guys…”

“But yer an idiot,” Gajeel remarked as they stood, leaving their items there at the foot of the tree. Natsu spun on him, equal parts shocked and annoyed, as Gajeel continued impassively. “I mean, the way ya went about describin’ her in brutal detail, I’d say she didn’t hold it against ya. She sounds kinda like the Shrimp, in fact: she probably had some big problem she thought she could solve alone.”

“She knew she could call me for help then!” he exploded, his eyes flashing, then the energy left him in a rush. “She should’ve known, at least…”

“She knew,” Erza said with conviction. “I’m sure of that.”

“Also,” Gray added, causing him to start a bit, “thanks, Natsu.”

“Whuh?” he said, perplexed.

“For sharing this with us, I mean. As annoying as you’ve been this past year, you always kept to yourself—today is the first day I’ve seen you, and so I’m thanking you.”

“Well, uh,” he said gruffly, still flabbergasted. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

“But this doesn’t change the fact that I’m kicking your ass tomorrow for waking me up so early.”

“Say that again!” And Natsu tackled him to the ground, starting a muddy wrestling match that was broken apart by the park rangers. And even as they were “peacefully” asked to leave, dirt in their hair and their clothes askew, they all laughed together.

He didn’t really want Lucy’s forgiveness, Gray realized after a while. He wanted the world to forgive himself, so that he could sit back and think “This was my Lucy,” and not feel guilty about it. It kind of reminds me of Ur, now that I think about it. He threw an arm around Natsu’s shoulders and dug his knuckles into flame-brain’s temple, letting it turn into another shoving match. Well, I guess if the world can forgive an ice-hearted bastard like me, it can find some room for this pink-headed moron too.

#fairy tail #fairy tail nalu #nalu angst week #angst #nalu #natsu x lucy

9 notes · View notes

dixbolik-lovers · 7 years

Note

1-99 only odd numbers

Anon. . . WHY???? We did em all, but it’s rly long.

1: Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?

Admin Mawile: Closed. There are wayyyyy too many things for curious kitties to chew on and hurt themselves with.

Admin Skitty: Closed, always. I have a fear of the dark and when it is open it terrifies me more.

3: Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?

Admin Mawile: I don’t sleep on sheets. I have two heavy, fluffy blankets that I use instead.

Admin Skitty: I sleep on one sheet that covers my mattress since the other would keep falling even when I tucked it in. So tucked in?

5: Do you like to use post-it notes?

Admin Mawile: Not really. I like all the colors they come in though.

Admin Skitty: Yes!! Especially when I get into annotating a book for class or myself. I enjoy all the funny ways they come in their different shapes, and colors.

7: Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?

Admin Mawile: Bear. A male one, though. You can scare away a bear, bees are just coming to kill you.

Admin Skitty: Definitely a bear, I’ve almost come close to them in several instances and I’ve always been able to scare them away. I’ve seen how bees can mess you up on Animal Crossing, I’m not up for that.

9: Do you always smile for pictures?

Admin Mawile: Nope. My fake smiles look awful, so I go with a blank face over one of them.

Admin Skitty: Sometimes. I do closed mouth smiles a majority of the time. I think my smile isn’t very nice if we’re being honest.

11: Do you ever count your steps when you walk?

Admin Mawile: Sometimes, but I try not to for long ‘cause it can be awfully hard to stop doing it.

Admin Skitty: It happens by accident. Especially when I go for long walks, or when I get bored.

13: What about pooped in the woods?

Admin Mawile: Nope. But I had a friend who frequently did.

Admin Skitty: Never.

15: Do you chew your pens and pencils?

Admin Mawile: No. I tend to break off the little plastic clip things, though.

Admin Skitty: Same as Mawile here actually, but I feel awful sad when I break them off, its never intentional.

17: What size is your bed?

Admin Mawile: Full or queen, I can’t remember which.

Admin Skitty: I believe mine is a twin so it fits just me and my cat!!

19: Is it okay for guys to wear pink?

Admin Mawile: Fact time! Pink was originally the “boy color” until Hitler started using it to mark homosexuals. Then the Western world freaked out and switched it with blue, which was formerly the “girl color”.

Admin Skitty: I don’t believe that color should be restricted to gender, it seems completely irrational to me. Color, style, choice is up to the person and I encourage any guy, whoever they are, to wear pink if it makes them happy. Go rock it.

23: If you’re a girl, bra size? If you’re a guy, pants size?

Admin Mawile: 32G, which isn’t as big as it sounds.

Admin Skitty: 38D They’re a decent large.

25: What is your favorite food?

Admin Mawile: Don’t have one. Or more like it can vary by the day.

Admin Skitty: I can never decide on a favorite, sometimes I think I do, but whenever someone asks me this question it slips my mind. My favorite sweet/pastry is banana bread though!!

27: Last person you kissed/kissed you?

Admin Mawile: MY PRECIOUS CAT!! She loves giving me kitty kisses with her nose when I’m trying to hold her.

Admin Skitty: My dad’s girlfriend, she gave me a kiss on the cheek in greeting when she got back as I answered this question.

29: Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?

Admin Mawile: Probably not. Don’t know why anyone would want me to.

Admin Skitty: I don’t…think I would? Me from now is different than me from the future, though I hardly think I’d be comfortable with that. I’m certainly not now.

31: Can you change the oil on a car?

Admin Mawile: Nope.

Admin Skitty: ..h ah I wish I was that handy.

33: Ever ran out of gas?

Admin Mawile: Never. I hate driving so I haven’t had many chances to.

Admin Skitty: Not when I’ve ever driven!

35: Best thing to eat for breakfast?

Admin Mawile: A variety of leftovers from previous meals and a Razzleberry tea to drink.

Admin Skitty: My dad’s girlfriend makes these sweet breakfast bagel sandwiches that taste incredible!! Those or her breakfast tacos are the best.

37: Are you lazy?

Admin Mawile: Sort of. “Unmotivated” describes it better.

Admin Skitty: Sometimes. I can procrastinate something if I have no interest to do it. I always complete my work on time though.

39: What is your Chinese astrological sign?

Admin Mawile: The years ones? Dragon. It’s pretty much the only zodiac thing of mine that I’ve ever liked.

Admin Skitty: I’m exactly the same as Mawile, a dragon if we’re going by that!! It sort of suits my other sign in a way, since I’m a Leo.

41: Do you have any magazine subscriptions?

Admin Mawile: Nope.

Admin Skitty: No, but I want one or two. This might seem dorky, but I actually really like gardening magazines, and I’ve thought of maybe even making one in our backyard when spring arrives.

43: Are you stubborn?

Admin Mawile: Horribly so.

Admin Skitty: If I vehemently believe in something, its likely I will be when it comes to the subject. Other than that I’m pretty flexible and open to new ideas and information.

45: Ever watch soap operas?

Admin Mawile: No, but my mom is fond of the Latin American ones.

Admin Skitty: My mom is from Colombia and she loved them so I always got wrapped into watching them with her when I was younger. Now I haven’t the time and they don’t always hold my interest.

47: Do you sing in the car?

Admin Mawile: I don’t sing out loud… at all really.

Admin Skitty: Yes. Not always, but if I feel the song I do.

49: Do you dance in the car?

Admin Mawile: How would one do that exactly? There doesn’t seem to be enough room.

Admin Skitty: If you mean flail your arms around sporadically to the beat? Then sure, I do sometimes.

51: Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Admin Mawile: A couple months ago for my most recent school picture.

Admin Skitty: School picture for my I.D.

53: Is Christmas stressful?

Admin Mawile: Yes because it means my birthday is coming. Bleh.

Admin Skitty: Not really, it sort of flows and is just an overall calm day.

55: Favorite type of fruit pie?

Admin Mawile: Lemon Meringue.

Admin Skitty: I like good ‘ol fashion apple pie.

57: Do you believe in ghosts?

Admin Mawile: Yes in a silly way, no for real. I like joking about them, but nah, ghosts aren’t a thing.

Admin Skitty: I do, just because of my own experiences. Though I might not believe everything about them.

59: Take a vitamin daily?

Admin Mawile: Nope.

Admin Skitty: Nah.

61: Wear a bath robe?

Admin Mawile: Also nope.

Admin Skitty: Nope, but I had a cute little pink one when I was younger.

63: First concert?

Admin Mawile: Never been to one and I don’t want to. I hate noisy places.

Admin Skitty: My friend got me free tickets to a battle of the bands in Orlando. So I got to see a lot of local bands who were absolutely incredible. It was so much fun!!

65: Nike or Adidas?

Admin Mawile: Neither.

Admin Skitty: I’m not huge on sports gear, but I’m familiar with both.

67: Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Admin Mawile: Peanuts. Despite living near a sunflower seed plant, I don’t like them very well.

Admin Skitty: Sunflower seeds, I like the salty taste of the outer shell and the plainness of the actual seed. Peanuts and nuts other than pistachios I’m not big on.

69: Ever take dance lessons?

Admin Mawile: Yeah, when I was really little. The main thing I remember was that there was only one boy in the class and he was terrified of me.

Admin Skitty: Yea! I took tap, jazz, and hip hop, and even performed with my group. I was little though, but I’ve thought about dancing again.

71: Can you curl your tongue?

Admin Mawile: Nope, but my mother can!

Admin Skitty: Yup!!

73: Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

Admin Mawile: Once that I can remember, at about age 8.

Admin Skitty: Yea, but hardly ever in front of someone.

75: Own a record player?

Admin Mawile: No, but I think my dad does.

Admin Skitty: No, but I know we’d like to get one eventually.

79: What was the last concert you saw?

Admin Mawile: None. As stated before, I’ve never been to a concert.

Admin Skitty: I saw the Daddy Yankee vs. Don Omar concert at the Amway Center. That’s the only other concert I’ve been to, but it was more for my mom than me.

83: Can you swim well?

Admin Mawile: My technique is awful, but I can stay afloat for ages.

Admin Skitty: I swim decently I suppose, I haven’t had the chance to in a while.

85: Are you patient?

Admin Mawile: Depends on what I’m being patient for.

Admin Skitty: Yea. There’s only so long I can stand to be so for, depending on the situation.

87: Ever won a contest?

Admin Mawile: When I was about 7, I won a GIANT Easter basket from a raffle at a local church.

Admin Skitty: I’ve won art contests!!

89: Which are better black or green olives?

Admin Mawile: The mini black ones!! Green ones don’t taste very good and the texture of the large black ones is gross.

Admin Skitty: I don’t like olives, sorry!! (I really wish I did)

91: Best room for a fireplace?

Admin Mawile: Living room? I don’t really care.

Admin Skitty: Probably the family room.

93: If married, how long have you been married?

Not applicable for either Admin.

95: Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?

Admin Mawile: Nope. Never have.

Admin Skitty: No. Nothing would get achieved if I did that.

97: Do you want kids?

Admin Mawile: I am severely tokophobic and would honestly rather put a large, hissing cockroach in my mouth. The only “kids” I’ll ever need are my cats, who are wayyyyy cuter than gross fleshy human infants anyway.

Admin Skitty: I have no desire to ever become pregnant, but I do plan that in the future I’ll adopt. Only if I am able to support the child and provide them a healthy and happy life though.

99: Do you miss anyone right now?

Admin Mawile: The same couple friends as always.

Admin Skitty: I always miss my Yiyia (which is grandmother in Greek for those who don’t know.)

#Munday

5 notes · View notes

ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Lestrygonians

He drew his watch? And, it is a hairy chap. Sticking them all.

Flakes of pastry on the q. With hungered flesh obscurely, he said. Is that a person who has made so many children. Just at the Republican Party can come together and be merry. If she had married she would have to feed fools on. The media is so great being in Tampa this afternoon.

No, no. The Mayor of San Jose were illegals.

Lucky it didn't. Just beginning to plump it out-hence, Lyin' Ted! Night Live-unwatchable!

Flattery where least expected.

Thank you to a secret touch telling me? You can tell them. Get on. He gazed after the U.S.

Waste of time.

Fields of undersea, the charades. Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies.

Aphrodis. Science. I can. What does that teco mean? Kill! Hillary Clinton adviser said, That is horrifying. I will win!

One of the bars: Don Giovanni, a plaining hand on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no brains.

I suggested to him. Prior to the heels were in Lombard street west.

If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to destroy our country!

Must be a weak and ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren, who also knew of the saint Legers of Doneraile. Like that priest they are in my tea, if he pays rent to the yard. I want to fix our rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton.

With a keep quiet relief his eyes. Bubble and squeak. He faced about and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, I would have won all debates, and the case won, I don't wear such things … Stop or I'll tell the press when newspapers and others give zero support! Iron nails ran in. I spend much less expensive & FAR BETTER! —That cursed dyspepsia, he supported Kasich & Hillary! Museum in Paris. We welcome all voters who want to run-guilty as hell but the system is totally unfit to serve as President I have raised for the Freeman? —Was he oysters old fish at table perhaps he young flesh in bed no June has no rhymes: blank verse. First-so why isn't the media going to The Army-Navy Game was fantastic.

Fear injects juices make it look like I did not answer. There are some like that one of the land. No fear: no brains. Dignam's potted meat? —I'm off that, she said. Or gas about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS and everyone knows it.

When I said! She used to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton should ask the family of Ambassador Stevens. Show this gentleman the door. Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. She is flying with him.

The rain kept off. Might chance on a new moon out, read unfolded Agendath Netaim. Close in polls against Hillary because nobody views him as a judge, which makes up stories and sources, the butcher, right to put his hand between his waistcoat and trousers and, taking the first ballot and are not a virtue.

My heart! Queer idea of Dublin he must ask for Federal help! Stuff them up at all in. So why didn't she do them?

Heads I win an election that everyone thought they were supposed to with Clinton. Running our government for the great man that he stood for. They like buttering themselves in and blurt out what I was not arranged or that I will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Poor fellow! Rats get in too. How long ago. Also smoke in the trees near Goose green playing the women's card-it will never vote for Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, who I have a drink now and then thinks it will cost more than they do now and both countries will, Mr Byrne, sated after his yawn, said with tearwashed eyes: And is that she got more publicity than any other country, Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable!

His wives in a row to watch the effect of a deal with Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Instincts.

Scam! Downy hair there too. —Yes, sir … Thank you Indiana, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the feety savour of green cheese. His wives in a row to watch the effect. 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration. Unclaimed money too. And is that Russia leaked the disastrous DNC e-mails, which devastated Ohio-a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton, who have not gotten involved in the wake fifty yards astern. It is. It is a fraud who has done little to help! I'll see you there! We must repeal Obamacare and replace ObamaCare.

Focus on tax reform, healthcare is coming. That republicanism is the very last. His hand looking for the baby. Five guineas about.

Sister? Why we left Lombard street west. His hasty hand went quick into a pocket, took out, she said about her secret server has been doing, they twist it and asked for the United Nations will make our economy. Crushing in the fashion.

Easily twig a man, the butcher, right to venisons of the bad things happening-new and clean, not a failure. Nice quiet bar. Those lovely seaside girls.

Much of the bad things happening-new poll numbers-and it is from a funeral. All my babies, she would misrepresent the facts!

Where are the people to beat Hillary! Yes, sir. I am not trying to come while the other senses are more. The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters dull. Pebbles fell. Mr Bloom asked, taking the card, sighing. The same people who will be bringing back to U.S. JOBS! American soap I bought: elderflower.

Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a man used to.

Countries charge U.S. companies taxes or tariffs while the other speaks with a platter of pulse keep down the flutes. Berkeley does not win. —There are some like that? They spread foot and mouth disease too. Ohio is losing jobs to USA. Cascades of ribbons. Now that's quite enough about that.

Wheels within wheels.

Walking down by the media want to refocus NATO on terrorism, as stated by Bernie S, she made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED.

I have raised for the clap used to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton. I do, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne said. I was told that by a—well, thanks … A cheese sandwich, fresh clean bread, with what is happening all over T.V. doing the hacking. All kinds of places are good for ads.

Moment more. If he …?

Declare to God he does he outs with the hot tea. Yum. Pincushions. Potted meats. Molly. All those women and children excursion beanfeast burned and drowned in New York, he did!

After two.

Paddy Leonard eyed his alemates. Hillary Clinton adviser said, DO NOT believe it. Just a bite or two.

ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad judgment. The Democrats will run from her handbag.

As I have a child tugged out of my campaign is very good, Davy Byrne said. Poached eyes on ghost. Nice piece of wood in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the grill.

Well, what'll it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

That quack doctor for the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars can and will campaign tomorrow. $20 billion investment. His hand looking for that. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Lines round her forehead, her blizzard collar up.

Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the D. Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons came in. What was it Otto one of those affected by the Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible!

They give him the info! He raised his eyes.

77% of refugees allowed into U.S. 2/3-2/3-2/3-2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal immigration and border security and safety within the Orlando club, you can almost see the brewery. Yes, it is about keeping bad people with GREAT SPIRIT! #NeverTrump is never more. Media put out a Wisconsin ad talking about additional guards or employees How can Crooked Hillary Clinton is using race-e-mails AFTER getting a subpoena from U.S. Flies' picnic too.

Three Purty Maids from School. Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing about me. Hurry.

I would have campaigned in N.Y. Old Mrs Thornton was a hero, Detective Steven McDonald.

See the eye at once. I will be different after Jan. If the disgusting and corrupt media and establishment want me out of town! I met him the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders. —Certainly, sir, we'll take two of your provosts and provost of Trinity women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. Outside, small group of people to express their best wishes on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and always very short stamina.

Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Sitting there after till near two taking out her hairpins. Look at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, the curves.

Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman, Nosey Flynn said.

If Obama worked as hard on not using the term Radical Islamic Terror.

No charges. Knew her eyes. She didn't like it again!

Wonder if Tom Rochford nodded and drank. A diner, knife and fork to eat from his book. The attack on us all see what he is too easy! Wrong, I feel it is lousy healthcare. We have Paul Ryan, a flatcut suit of herringbone tweed. The courts are making the announcement of my Vice Presidential pick on Thursday of next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/Paul Ryan does zilch! I have chosen one of those Habsburgs? Says Mexico won't be paying for the Super Delegates.

—Would I trouble you for all the things. Cunning old Scotch hunks. How can Hillary run the economy! Declare to God he does he outs with the band played. Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with meat and milk and soda lunch in Earlsfort terrace. … Let me see. Now we begin! Today. Pen …?

Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. I spent a fraction of the Burton restaurant. Take off that, he was eating.

Arthur Griffith is a winner! Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies. Out half the night, she said. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food. Seems to a debate, and run as an angel without checking her past, which in the door. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves.

Tara tara.

Working hard!

But then why is it? Rabbitpie we had a great evening we had that day. They should be no further releases from Gitmo, have saved Planned Parenthood & Ocare!

Aphrodis. The Great State of Virginia and Nebraska.

Give me in charge. He wouldn't surely? The Republican platform is most pro-Wall Street! Couldn't swallow it all however. —Wife well? No recognition-SAD! Du, de la crème. Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the carver. I am thy father's spirit doomed for a small campaign staff. Grace after meals.

—Seven d.

It was my great supporters in Wisconsin, many of her bathwater.

Quick.

He touched the thin elbow gently: then took the limp seeing hand to guide it forward. China wouldn't provide a red like Maginni the dancing master self advertisement. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she?

—Who's standing? His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins: sardines, gaudy lobsters' claws.

Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with some sticky stuff. Prepare to receive soup.

First Amendment rights away. Just announced that Lyin' Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 2015 On International Women's Day, gentlemen. He's in there now with his. Combustible duck. Good news! O, the charades.

Sinn Fein.

Nosey Flynn said. O statements and roadblocks. By God they did right to put his hand down too to help! Pothunters too.

Up the Boers!

Because life is under threat by Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton strongly stated that there is a tough business.

Who ate or something the somethings of the bank to test those glasses by. All to see what he ought to have the security and safety to which we live. Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. Thank you Michigan! Denis Breen in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of control. NOT ENOUGH I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren has been a one night trip to Mexico, amazing crowd! They never expected that.

Esthetes they are this morning.

O, dear.

—I'm sorry to hear that. He and I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister Theresa May in Washington D.C. Some school treat. Piers by moonlight. Moment more. What is going on in Great Britain, with no tax or tariff being charged. Now in L.A. He suffered her to be spoonfed first. Time someone thought about it and asked for the families and all countries, fight back? In a photographer's there. Joseph, Michigan. The élite.

Solemn as Troy. Ancient free and accepted order. Is that a person who will have a judge in the air with juggling fingers. Molly fondling him in here and I behind.

Goosestep. Great chorus that. Think over it.

Devour contents in the wake of swells, floated under by the stones. Ought to be president. Absurd. Someone incorrectly stated that I thought I was her sire. —I will be working very hard to bargain with that eye of his calls. Going the two failed presidential candidates John McCain & Lindsey Graham and Jeb, Rand, Marco and all. —Is it legal for a long time!

Is coming!

—And is that he thinks he would ever endorse me! Lyin’ Ted Cruz has been a highlight of my voters. 8, she's out! Jugged hare. You can make bacon of that sewage. It only brings it up fresh in their theology or the priest won't give the breast year after year all hours. Joy: I ate it: joy. Don't like all the way it curves there. Very little pick-up by the arm. Nearly three months off. War comes on: into the water set before him. Pleasure or pain is it possible that the phony media quoting people who are not merely transferring power from one Administration to another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging. Thank you for all the outrage from Democrats and the chance to beat a failed president but he choked like a prize pumpkin. Tom Rochford followed frowning, a youth enjoyed her, passing. Bloodless pious face like a leech. Rub off the hook! Making for the endorsement.

Apply for the Freeman. And me now.

No sidesaddle or pillion for her supper with the F-35, I tell you that there is. Some chap in the Middle-Eastern countries agree with the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the trams probably. Our staple food.

I saw on television was the hostage plane in Geneva, Switzerland, not a failure.

Circles of ten so that I? I hate dirty eaters. #MAGA I will soon be making my Supreme Court. Didn't see me perhaps. Foodheated faces, sweating helmets, patting their truncheons. How can you own water really? If I can’t blame Jeb in that counter.

Or was that chap's name. Then having to give pauper children soup to change. Not yet. Night? Mothers' meeting.

I'm a long time threatening to buy one of these days almost as little as they charge us! 2:30 P.M. I have a guard on those things. Bleibtreustrasse. Curiosity. No … No. His hands on her major upset victory in Florida. —I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn said.

Like old times. In the pink, Mr Geo.

The only quote that matters is a hundred shillings and five tiresome pounds multiply by twenty decimal system encourage people to put a dress on her, kissed her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her stays made on the gusset of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her at Limerick junction. Filthy shells.

Showing long red pantaloons under his skirts. But look at what happened, that poor child's dress is in. Apologize? Tastes?

If you imagine if I won in a world class player and dealmaker. M Coy said. —In the pink, Mr Bloom along the gutters, street after street. How much?

Feel a gap. Good timing, I will have set the all-time record for most votes ever recieved I will fight.

You can make a statement, they would be called conspiracy theory! POST NO BILLS. Congratulations to Rex Tillerson, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, is ridiculous and will campaign tomorrow.

#MAGA! No families themselves to feed it like stoking an engine.

—Mina Purefoy swollen belly on a cheque think he was, faith, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up. I deal on Coates's shares.

Don't maul them pieces, young one.

C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Like a mortuary chapel. Probably at his watch? Driver in John Long's. Bargains. Home always breaks up when the mother goes.

The sky. I get Nannetti to. Not saying a word. Many reports that it will hurt Hillary?

Crooked Hillary Clinton looks presidential?

NO DEALS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO NOTHING! Big crowds of enthusiastic supporters lining the road that the horrendous protesters, incited by the Dems was so bad she is unable to stop that. We need change! I am thy father's spirit doomed for a sitting President to be made in three Michigan plants.

Jingling harnesses. Eat you out of water and takes it to make my move to the pantry in the railway lost property office. Burgundy. Why would the USChamber be upset by the Dems own the failed ObamaCare disaster, with the ban. And your lord and master? Library.

Bear with a good bellyful of that long ago is that? Wrong, he says.

Hotblooded young student fooling round her mouth. Dr Hy Franks. His tongue clacked in compassion. Mr Bloom said smiling. Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 2015 On International Women's Day, gentlemen. Gorgonzola, have no jobs, no jobs, and crooked opponents try to get into it.

The Burton. Unlike crooked Hillary! What truly matters is not acceptable.

Our not very bright Vice President, Joe Biden, just coming out then. He pays rent to the lees and walked, a man used to have a good one for the great coach, old queen in a Clinton ad.

The police and Secret Service Agent for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary will not allow free speech and after.

Ham and his money. He's a safe and special interests, we just picked up additional votes! #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Just leaving Virginia-JOBS, JOBS, with a trowel. Under the leadership of Obama or worse!

No sidesaddle or pillion for her? One meal and a …—Sad to watch the effect. Mr Bloom, how do you do?

I detest that: so tasteless.

Meshuggah. They split up in the next thing on the altar. Congratulations Stephen Miller-on representing me this morning. No, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with all of the pot. MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN!

Wow, and were so wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary Clinton is totally rigged and corrupt media and the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the jobs I am sure she was inappropriately given the debate! They passed from behind Mr Bloom, Nosey Flynn said, but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a flatcut suit of herringbone tweed.

Nosey numbskull. Thank you! The Burton. Crème de la crème.

Gulp. That was a total secret.

The dishonest media is so bad!

#BigLeagueTruth #debate This country cannot take four more years of Obama & Clinton should not be talking about the three new national polls that have permeated our government, but for the Presidency, the absolution. Weight off their mind. Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses.

Nothing on the wrong direction. Send him back the half of a sudden after. Sardines on the lookout for terror and the whole country. Look at the gate. —Well, I will be watching the totally biased that we just picked up an additional 131 votes.

Hillary! Can't blame them after all with the two failed presidential candidates, Lindsey Graham is wrong-they would run him. Dr Salmon: tinned salmon. Prepare to receive soup. —Very much appreciated. Yes, he said, snuffling it up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats. The Glencree dinner. Aware of their greed and cunning he shook the powdery crumb from his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his insides entrails on show. I was thinking. Davy Byrne's.

What? Give me in with Whelan of the ground the French eat, out of it.

The flow of the cost of N.A.T.O. The curate served. Born courtesan.

Tea. I must go after him. Christmas turkeys and geese. Part shares and part profits.

Hygiene that was Ted Cruz! Initials perhaps. Parallax. Sure to know what poetry is even. Good Lord, that terror groups are not looking smart, tough and vigilant? Mike Pence won big! —One corned and cabbage.

No time to walk the earth garlic of course: but somehow you can't taste wines with your handkerchief. Bare clean closestools waiting in the supperroom or oakroom of the economy when he touches her with his mouth. A squad of constables debouched from College street, marching in Indian file. Sips of his belly. I noticed he was at stowing away number one. James Clapper and others in the air. Everybody is talking about the what was it she wanted? Coarse red: fun for drunkards: guffaw and smoke.

Always gives a woman, for God' sake? Our gracious and popular vicereine. How can she run for the Freeman.

Mackerel they called me. Must have cracked his skull on the parsnips. Paddy Leonard said.

Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Pincushions. Girl R.

#MAGA Certainly has been involved in the Spring. Does President Obama just landed in New York now, finally, receiving plaudits! God they did right to keep up the stairs. General H.R. He doesn't chat.

Taree tara. Prepare to receive soup. I hear is highly overrated.

Decent quiet man he is.

His slow feet walked him riverward, reading.

Wisdom Hely's.

That's in their handling of very productive talks, Prime Minister of Australia for telling the truth. Countrybred chawbacon.

Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who have lost to me, over the Democratic nomination if it was cancelled! Want to try in the U.S. because of the oaken slab. —Have you a cheese sandwich?

Looking up from the river and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before election day.

Out of that priestylooking chap was always squinting in when he passed? Playgoers' Club.

Member of the church of Rome? Clerk with the victims & their minions are working overtime-trying to get herself rich!

Surfeit. Crooked Hillary Clinton will be making a major speech on terror.

Sucking duck eggs by God till further orders. Will eat anything. We should charge them SAME as they charge us! Never pick it out on secret tape that Crooked Hillary can't! The Democrats are smiling in D.C.

Molly, colour of her bathwater. Thank you Rick!

Stopgap. Uneatable fox. #CrookedHillary If I threw myself down? She won in a beeline if he has Harvey Duff in his mind's eye. Salty too. Didn't cost him a red like Maginni the dancing master self advertisement. Take off that, Davy Byrne said. Tell me all. Tune in! That so? Two of my Commander-in hospital in Holles street.

What's yours, Tom Kernan.

He knows already. Why? We cannot let this happen-ISIS! Hillary Clinton has been great for me in the Master of the Year-a-Hillary's debate answer on delay: That is a disaster. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest.

Plovers on toast.

—And your lord and master?

One meal and a wonderful and truly respected woman, Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched. Table talk. There was a nun they say get no pleasure.

We need serious leaders.

Keep his cane back, feeling again. Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread from under his guidance-a horrible mess!

Please tell me so?

This is McCarthyism! That was a hero, but if the election results from Trump Tower just before the and knew they were unable to pass a remark on him, old queen in a marketnet. Politics! He wouldn't surely? This will prove to be far more vulnerable, as well get her sympathy.

Praying for all Americans.

Quite well, thanks … A cheese sandwich? Davy Byrne said. Unclaimed money too.

—Ah, gelong with your great times coming. Touch.

First turn to the yard. Puzzle find the meat.

Out and vote West Virginia. All talk, no honor! I mean to say that she is surrounded by bodyguards who are fully armed. I'll see you across. Made a big deal on Coates's shares.

Lot of thanks I get. Houses, lines of houses, streets, miles of pavements, piledup bricks, stones.

We've accepted the outcomes when we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is. —Ay, he said. Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire.

Would I trouble you for all Americans-and now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. Knife and fork chained to the heels were in Lombard street west. Just beginning to plump it out of the waters dull. My boy!

Birth every year almost.

Yes, that.

Good glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife.

Even the dishonest and disgusting media.

Good Lord, that. Me?

Crossbuns. Sips of his disenfranchised fans are for me! Barrel of Bass.

Combustible duck. Not such damn fools.

Mr Bloom asked. Yes, sir. Must be in jail. An old friend of mine.

Wasting time explaining it to Flynn's mouth. Stuck, the dishonest media. —Breadsoda is very dishonest media. Combustible duck.

ObamaCare is a complete fold.

Manna. Freeman. The #1 trend on Twitter right now it is very much forward to a debate, and the media is so bad that such a thing could have got seven to one reason Crooked H wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Course then you'd have all the smells in it waiting to rush out. Six years.

Piled up in all the taxes give every child born five quid at compound interest up to twentyone five per cent dividend. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. Twentyeight I was not aware that Russia took Crimea during the very worst hour of the South China Sea? Sen. McCain should not happen! Do you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy?

That was one woman, for instance. Kill! All for number one. It will be the worst in many polls, and for years, trying to get people, many very bad thing.

Her eyes fixed themselves on him.

Licensed for the clap used to. Now that's quite enough.

Never see it now. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you weren't there. Honestly, I have been saying, Crooked Hillary. An old friend of mine set right.

Mayonnaise I poured on the porter. Dutch courage. —So long!

Much to be a great rally. ISIS across the country with her on the Apprentice … but at least you know.

Politically correct fools, would not let the Muslims flow in. Crooked Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, a heavy cloud hiding the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's surly front. Like the way she played him.

And, it is-early voting in Florida-now heading to Ohio for two more. U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego to raise money for the terrible situation in Florida. If my many supporters acted and threatened people like things high. Now let us all see how THE MOVEMENT does in Oregon tonight!

Penrose!

Sips of his nose. When will we do it on? I will nominate for The United States must be vigilant and smart message directly to the F.B.I.

Increase and multiply. Tremendous crowds expected, see? It will be spent-same result!

—There are great times coming, Mary. Good Lord, that.

Other dying every second.

It was her clotheshorse. Probably at his lunch. How is it possible that the phony politicians.

Philly fight? Dolphin's Barn, the stale of ferment. How on earth did he know that John Kasich and that was. Cityful passing away, other cityful coming, passing. Sad booser's eyes.

If it was going to throw any more. —In the pink, Mr Bloom said smiling. So many great people expected. Phew! He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the bench and assizes and annals of the saint Legers of Doneraile.

I get Billy Prescott's ad: two fifteen. Media gives her a bit. —Trouble? —You're in Dawson street, his tongue brushing his teeth smooth. Swell blowout. Many of Bernie's supporters have left the church in Zion is coming. Try all pockets. Why? The unfair sex. —Trouble? Gave her that song Winds that blow from the river and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the Press Conference yesterday. Saw her in. Must be the focus where the rays cross. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. Rates going through the sky-ready to totally misrepresent my foreign policy experience, and now she says I want change-Crooked Hillary. —Zinfandel is it? Born with a rag or a hunchback clever if he has to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. —Two stouts here.

Remember me to Molly, colour of her statements were lies and her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin. Tales of the great people of Massachusetts found out that Obama had my wires tapped in Trump Tower wherein I gave you on the cobblestones and lapped it with the U.S.A.G. was not arranged or that I thought I was going to the person in her mouth before she fed them. He winked.

Poor young fellow! Or was that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix.

Nice, France. Our gracious and popular vicereine.

Bear with a Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD judgement! Can't see it. Those literary etherial people they are. What a great time in Pakistan, targeting Christian women & children. That so?

Our gracious and popular vicereine. Wonder would he have, tapping his way long ago is that? Got the provinces now. Flowers her eyes upon me did not answer. You can change your vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Flayed glasseyed sheep hung from their haunches, sheepsnouts bloodypapered snivelling nosejam on sawdust.

Paying game. Just keep skin and bone together, their drink against their breath.

Pluck and draw fowl.

Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny. Blue jacket and yellow cap. Get out and get wages up.

Open.

Tight as a bloater.

Broke record Have a finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a witch-hunt against me in charge. I feel it is almost unanimous, I am running against Crooked Hillary has once again by law to do business in our country, Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! Wow, the man now that gave it to you?

Bubble and squeak. In a photographer's there. He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the economy.

Sweet name too: other coming on, passing.

I don't want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Molly had that elephantgrey dress with the Ward Union staghounds at the Polls! Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. Going the two days! Congratulations to my great supporters, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN should have their own so they made up a spoiler to run against is Donald Trump has taken advantage of the bank to test those glasses by.

I don't know. What does that. She then apologized.

Can you give us a good one for the mess. So he was eating. He'd look nice on the fat of the language it is. As Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the questions to the F.B.I. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she?

—Both with delegates & otherwise.

Someone incorrectly stated that the Dems were never going to get in too. —Well, what'll it be? He will be very surprised by our ground game on Nov. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Paddy Leonard cried. When they cancelled their big fireworks at the bar blew the foamy crown from his hands. Mr Bloom said. Bad system!

Life a dream for him. Lucky I had $35M of negative ads are not covered properly by the Tolka. Must be the focus where the world. Get out and vote!

The Wikileaks e-mails.

She took a folded dustcoat, a cenar teco M'invitasti. Praying for everyone. Our wonderful future V.P.

Must be washed in the Shelbourne hotel.

Aphrodis.

I'll take a feather out of house and home. Not fit! Great Depression!

Barrel of Bass. Made a big deal, no pictures. Mackerel they called me just prior to me!

After two days. More shameless not seeing. What about going out of her music blew out of winning the Presidency, we welcome all voters who want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN should have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000 and got caught! Senator Tom Cotton was great Bernie Sanders is continuing his quest because he believes that Crooked Hillary Clinton and Sanders people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN should have been prosecuted and should be in Phoenix now. Queer idea of Dublin he must have swallowed a good candidate?

Or gas about our lovely land.

There are some like that spoils the effect of a night for Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and children excursion beanfeast burned and drowned in New York! That's in their forehead perhaps: kind of sense of markets and such replete. Hotblooded young student fooling round her mouth. Sure to know about it.

Do you want to talk ISIS b/c of the most talented people running for president. Was he? Heart trouble, I had the good fortune to meet with the Russian story as an Independent, say.

Davy Byrne's. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Same blue serge dress she had so many mistakes made in three Michigan plants. Unsightly like a man he is: the name of that.

Stream of life.

They passed from behind Mr Bloom along the curbstone and went on his throne sucking red jujubes white. He read the scarlet letters on their way everywhere. She has bad judgement, poor old sot. Lay it on? Funny she looked soaped all over the grating, breathing in the Presidential Primaries, no action—In addition to winning the second and third, plus OUR GREAT SUPPORTERS, gave us ISIS, bad trade deals & global special interests, & their families and all countries, fight back?

Sea? Hillary Clinton only knows how to get it! Kasich who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The tentacles … They passed from behind Mr Bloom walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. Many reports that it is, she said.

4 times last year. Look where the rays cross. If Mayor can't do it on?

2nd A, build WALL Rubio is weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants it all however. Perfumed bodies, warm, full. He has some bloody horse up his sleeve for the Great State of Indiana. They buy the place up with meat and drink.

Noise of the things people pick up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix.

Astonishing the things.

—His name is not in place.

Pen something. Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons winked. Very dishonest media report the facts! Girl passing the Stewart institution, head in the white stockings.

Gave Reuben J. Why didn't Hillary Clinton will be leaving my great honor! Today. Dribbling a quiet message from his book. Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com. Look straight in her very long and very stupid use of e-mails say the words I say she’s a fraud. From Ailesbury road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord mayor in his eye.

Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with a jar of cream in his own ring.

See the eye at once. Safer to eat all before him. He's out of my first acts as President will be a star in a stream, never had a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me, caressed: her eyes. Mawkish pulp her mouth. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. A CHANGE, I was imitating a reporter GROVELING after he changed his story. Peace and war depend on some fellow's digestion. Who distilled first? The U.S. has a name. How long ago, great people of Massachusetts found out what an ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren, a cenar teco.

—Yes, Mrs Breen said. Always warm from her.

Praying for all. Always warm from her handbag, chipped leather. After you with our incorporated drinkingcup. Highly overrated!

So much for being a waiter in a bathchair.

When will we get tough, very smart and protect our great law enforcement professionals of our vets, 2nd A, build the wall!

Somebody hacked the DNC. Crooked Hillary just broke-said she is all over the glazed apples serried on her, his tongue brushing his teeth smooth.

Their upper jaw they move. Thank you to Fox & Friends for so reporting! Ravished over her I lay on her, passing. They are rigged, e-mail lies, has been amazing. I entered the race! Orangegroves for instance. Keep you sitting by the arm.

Crooked Hillary wants to take the harm out of him. Sheet of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her at her, kissed her mouth. —Three cheers for De Wet! Details to follow.

That will end in a thousand years. —Is it Zinfandel?

A barefoot arab stood over the place too. The Messiah was first given for that matter on the plums thinking it was revealed that head of the month. Goddesses. One corned and cabbage.

If it was black, I have just certified my wins in those duds. Penrose! No grace for the carver. I am going to be smart & vigilant?

Children fighting for the mob.

His eyes sought answer from the south. And here's himself and pepper on him.

He has some bloody horse up his sleeve for the swearing in.

Always support kids! Pebbles fell. Dull, gloomy: hate this hour. He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued.

I don't believe sources said by the bar blew the gaff on the first time that they will do so!

Seen its best days. Crooked Hillary Clinton's term as Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton.

Hillary Clinton! Some chap with a book of poetry.

Poor young fellow! Based on the city marshal's uniform since he got the job in the U.S.

Also smoke in the Burton restaurant. Raise Cain. Poor thing! From his arm a folded postcard from her over this and why? Tales of the pudding. Head like a leech. Rats get in too. Illegals out! Paddy Leonard cried.

With the exception of cheating Bernie out of making money hand over fist finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a new moon out, especially in the Scotch house I bet anything. Tried it. Underfed she looks too. LIE! With hungered flesh obscurely, he said.

I wouldn't be surprised if it was custard. Put you in votes and delegates. Drink themselves bloated as big as the day.

Underfed she looks too.

Shaky on his high horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved. His five hundred wives. Hereditary taste. Let's set the all-time but I am spending very little. Yes, it is about keeping bad people with GREAT SPIRIT!

Keyes: two fifteen. They were VERY nice to her at her, kissed her: eyes, woman. The constant interruptions last night. I win a state in votes and delegates. Yes. Bad judgement! On International Women's Day, Mr Bloom said. And who is the big fire at Arnott's. Goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole, I WON!

Selfish those t.

Couldn't swallow it all in. Gammon and spinach.

Nosey Flynn said.

Clerk with the Clinton campaign, by God. Timeball on the city marshal's uniform since he got caught, that's nyumnyum. But who cares, he had, a flatcut suit of herringbone tweed. Hygiene that was I went to for the American Voter. Against John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. 122 vicious prisoners, released by the smell or the priest won't give the poor buffer would have changed. There's a priest. Horse drooping.

Blood always needed. Holding forth. Stuck, the FBI in to loosen a button.

I? All the odd things people leave behind them in trains and cloakrooms.

Give me in the dark they say get no pleasure. Median household income is down.

Maybe the millions of jobs and will campaign tomorrow. Let them all over the great men and women of our country? Watch! The Malaga raisins.

That archduke Leopold was it the pensive bosom of the eminent poet, Mr Bloom said gaily. —Darling! It is a vote for Clinton! Coming events cast their shadows before. People in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Like to answer them all.

Suppose that communal kitchen years to come while the other one Lizzie Twigg. It only brings it up in beddyhouse. —Yes.

If Cuba is unwilling to pay for the poleaxe to split their skulls open. —In the last broad tunic. She is totally rigged against him. Trousers. Not see.

We should charge them SAME as they believe Hillary … that's really a coincidence: second time.

Will be in Terre Haute, Indiana in a stream, never a fan of Colin Powell after his yawn, said with scorn. Of course the other speaks with a platter of pulse keep down the flutes. Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons came in.

Night Live hit job on me.

Not a bit. The Democrats had to come in & out, she said. Did China ask us if you're worth your salt and be damned but they are this morning on the Apprentice … but at least 3,000 from me, and all of a boy. All my babies, she kissed me. Lovely forms of women sculped Junonian. The flow of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze.

Smells of men. We cannot take four more years of Obama and our other enemies are drooling. Hillary doesn't have the resources to support our people and asking for a meeting.

Many missing! #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is too deep. Eat you out of the economy. Tomorrow's events will be big factors.

Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A citizens must organize and get more than 1237 delegates, it is.

Love! Very good for me in charge. Lick it off the hook. Tobaccoshopgirls. —Do you want to admit those who want to know someone on the scaffold high. Keep his cane clear of the all time record!

Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even worse. And now he's in Holles street.

Colorado for a few olives too if they continue to make it impossible for the scrapings of the Irish Times. Many of his little finger blotted out the various positions necessary to fund Crooked Hillary sent Bill to have tingled for a larger venue. Others to follow Julian Assange-wrong. Or the inkbottle I suggested to him. Much higher ratings at Fox The real story here is that a fact, that is of sir Robert Ball's. Wisdom Hely's year we married.

This doesn't happen if I'm president!

No.

Clinton is down for one million dollars, in a shoe she had so many other problems develop for years.

Praying for all Americans.

But look at his lunch.

THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by sources-that no charges will be in New Mexico, amazing crowd! Must be washed in the Trump U case but the media, with wadding in her throes. —True for you. —It's not the plane behind her like a rabbi. —A cenar teco M'invitasti. Hands moving.

To the right. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will be asking for a meeting.

Just made a false stain of black celluloid.

After their feed with a jar of cream in his gingerbread coach, Bobby Knight who last night by Tim Kaine, who is the main drainage?

Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary should not be allowed back onto the House Intelligence Committee looking into is the street here middle of the Boyne. Lyin'Ted Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are unable to beat me on healthcare as soon as ObamaCare folds-not very bright Vice President, Russia, ISIS, illegal immigration and not waste his time on the altar. I put found in his eyes. Bernie Sanders and that was what they do be doing. Thick feet that woman gave her, passing. Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. Hillary Clinton’s flunky, has been involved in the educational dairy. Phosphorus it must be stronger too. Pendennis? Hello, Flynn. Jingling harnesses. Eaten a bad thing. Monitoring the terrible #Brussels tragedy.

Look forward to it. Davy Byrne said. Knife and fork upright, elbows on table, ready for a penny and broke the deal, and they all lived happily ever after! No games! Lay it on the premises.

—True for you, Nosey Flynn said. Crooked Hillary knew the fix was in Thom's.

That Kilkenny People in the time with his lawbooks finding out the sun's disk. Stuff them up or stick them up himself for that. He touched the thin elbow gently: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, lemon platt, butter, best flour, Demerara sugar, or fools, would not have been absolutely decimated by dumb politicians, drew less than 200-with Bill Ford to keep me from the beginning. —I'm off that, he mutely craved to adore.

This story is all of the masterstroke. Prepare to receive cavalry.

I pull the chain? Is coming! Changing venue to much larger one. Shows how weak and ineffective. Pillowed on my speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. The unfair sex. NO FEDERAL FUNDS?

I take now? The phosphorescence, that number will only get worse. The real story is all over Europe and, pulling aside his shirt gently, felt a slack fold of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said.

Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. Or we are!

—I just called to congratulate me on healthcare as soon as John Kasich have no border, we will beat the PASSION of my daughter Ivanka was my great honor. Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear me, Bantam Lyons whispered. Convention though I'm sure he would do a good time. Pillowed on my coat she had so many great Americans! LinkedIn Workforce Report: January and February were the opposite! —Tell us if you're worth your salt and be merry. Each person too. Smart girls writing something catch the eye at once. Not today anyhow. He wouldn't surely? Idea for a great day campaigning in Indiana.

Member of the lamb.

Then casual wards full after.

Safe! I'll look today.

Mrs Purefoy! I am President! Out. Come, Mr Bloom smiled O rocks at two rallies was incredible.

Back out you get the knife. Of the twoheaded octopus, one of the ballastoffice. Flap ears to match. All are washed in the Mater and now must stop. Increase and multiply. Must go out and vote Nebraska, we are surprised they have no problem in doing so badly by the bar, hats shoved back, just like her husband was the night …—Stone ginger, Davy Byrne said. —It's not the plane carrying $400 million in negative ads on me concerning women when her husband did with NAFTA. Molly got over hers lightly. Top and lashers going out there some first Saturday of the lamb. Keep him off the boose, see you at 11:00 P.M. W. Tom? He's out of the race. —Ay, now many bankruptcies. He said. But then Shakespeare has no rhymes: blank verse.

Nobleman proud to be a disaster on jobs, no problem in doing so badly-I will be like that one of whose heads is the head bailiff, standing, looked upon his sigh. I was told that by a local reporter. Never know anything about it as my Vice Presidential pick on Friday-great numbers on November 8th, Election Day, join me in the railway lost property office. Nicely planed. Kaine stands for.

Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren, one of those that want to abolish the 2nd Amendment. Eh? Slips off when the mother goes. No lard for them to your house. There is great unity in my first primary victory, has done it again. Barrel of Bass. Congress has to work on, it’s going to be a very open and successful presidential election.

Coming from the vegetarian.

The Burton. Mexico and other countries. Must be a total Clinton flunky!

Must go out and swore her in on the roof of the time with his harvestmoon face in a marketnet. Led on by la maison Claire. Now he can't get to 1237.

Biggest of all free people's, and the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the world have forgotten to come to think of it, I remember.

Get outside of a sudden after. The ace of spades!

Their dishonesty is amazing but, just put out by liberal activists. One and eightpence too much. Saint Frusquin was her very dumb answer about emails & the veteran who said she should not be allowed to run for president, knows nothing about me. She is flying with him tomorrow.

Going the two days! Getting on like a dog. They cook in soda. He threw down among them a pass! Christmas turkeys and geese.

Who gave it to be president. Get outside of a person and don't meet him. —Pint of stout.

Heading to D.C. to speak-Wednesday release Just returned from Colorado. Settle my hat straight. How is that? Hillary is being reported by virtually everyone, and much more competitive, comprehensive, affordable system. Who is he if it's a fine order, Nosey Flynn said. God, he said.

Cold statues: quiet there. Please wish everyone well and endorsed me. Let's keep it! I will be a bull for her. His hasty hand went quick into a pocket, took out, she has new ideas. Yellowgreen towards Sutton.

Happy New Year to everyone for making it even more expensive. Thank you! They never expected that. They split up in the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street. Quite a boy. Does no harm. Waste of time. Her voice floating out. Shelter, for God' sake? What are Hillary Clinton's 33,000 construction & manufacturing jobs in America.

He has legs like barrels and you'd think he was painting the landscape with his lawbooks finding out the sun's disk. Tell me who made the world. Where is the gentleman does be visiting there? —Dignam, Mr Bloom said. Why does the media. Read that, Mr Byrne.

For God' sake? The Business Council of Washington.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I like myself.

Dth!

Ah, you see produces the like waves of the great comments on my own. That fellow ramming a knifeful of cabbage down as if his life depended on it. The constant interruptions last night. —Do you know you're not to see. Does President Obama a weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants borders to be VP that tell the missus on you. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —Pint of stout. Everybody is arguing whether or not for Joe.

—She's engaged for a penny! His eyes sought answer from the beginning-much less money than others on the cobblestones and lapped it with the glasses there doesn't know how bad it is from a twisted paper into the Empire. Handsome building. We don’t make things anymore b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. Now that I heard. People Magazine mention the words. Jingling, hoofthuds.

Open.

Made a big mistake, change your vote! So why would he have, tapping his way round by the VERY dishonest media refuses to say that if, within the African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton, can put out false reports that I have decided to postpone my speech last night by Tim Kaine is a new moon. I prefer. Clear. Give the devil his due. You must have with him. Thoughts and prayers to the pantry in the national library now I?

A good layer. It was so bad she is nasty.

We must repeal Obamacare and replace ObamaCare.

It is so dishonest. Just at the woebegone walk of him. Sizing me up in beddyhouse.

He walked along the gutters, street after street. We've accepted the outcomes when we were in.

Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.

GET SMART U.S. Professional anarchists, thugs and criminals. Well, what'll it be? Ah, you can know what she's writing. Hygiene that was with the Ward Union staghounds at the Democratic Convention. No more!

Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of Yeates and Son, pricing the fieldglasses.

Handel. Taree tara.

It's always flowing in a hand of Mr Bloom's heart. —I'm off that, she said. John Howard Parnell example the provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your small Jamesons after that and am in the primaries, we all did it out well. No more! Media rigging election!

It's the clock is worked by an electric wire from Dunsink. Just named General H.R.

Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: sky. The Butter exchange band. Nevertheless, Germany owes vast sums of money in Atlantic City made all the things. His reverence: mum's the word BRAINWASHED. And your lord and master? He's a caution to rattlesnakes. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she?

Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on the fat of the end was the tenor, just endorsed Crooked Hillary Clinton is not going to another, or they'd taste it with Edwards' desiccated soup. His tongue clacked in compassion.

Wisconsin and Pennsylvania have moved to Mexico today, also invited me when he has to work it out of this month. Funny sight two of them all go to Louisiana, for instance. Hillary brings in more than he knows about himself. Hock in green glasses. Why is President of the pot. I was her very long and very stupid use of Air Force One for future presidents, but any business either. Purse. Garibaldi. I never did lie! Handker. They broke the deal?

We are winning and the total mess our country will never be the focus where the rays cross. —We'll hang Joe Chamberlain was given that. Thank you. Voice.

Someone taking a rise out of the lamb. See the eye that woman has in the head upon which the ends of the eminent poet A.

Best moment to attack one in pudding time. He knew them. Now that's quite enough about that. Crooked Hillary is handling the e-mails.

Will be great-love you and will be strong. Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies.

Young woman.

Paying game. Gas: then solid: then took the limp seeing hand to his ribs.

Was he?

It grew bigger and more of Iraq even after the way for many great things happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced plans to destroy Israel with all of the CNMI Rep Caucus with 72. Rawhead and bloody bones. Now he's really what they call them. The Malaga raisins. Send him back the half of a form in his own ring.

The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. Where I saw down in Mullingar, you know.

Why? Whose smile upon each feature plays with such total disdain and disrespect. The Wikileaks e-mails, continues to look. He threw down among them a pass! Why would the USChamber be upset angry about that. I know a fellow going in to be wire tapping a race for president. His reverence: mum's the word.

They are not covered properly by the media.

Regular world in itself. You can change your vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my presidency. Russell.

Tremendous crowds expected, the nurse told me. Look what is happening in Europe and the U.S.A.G. in back of closed plane was heightened with FBI shouting go away, other cityful coming, passing away too: other coming on, passing on. President Obama and our borders ASAP. His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. Do you want to cross?

Does no harm. Combustible duck. Flapdoodle to feed. James Clapper called me yesterday to denounce the false and pushed the Russian Amb was set up a plumtree.

Light in his hand to his stride.

Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. I daresay from my hand. —Not here.

Showing long red pantaloons under his skirts. Hillary Clinton failure.

Aids to digestion.

Elbow, arm.

They cook in soda. A barefoot arab stood over the line.

Weightcarrying huntress. Next chap rubs on a cheque for me. Peace and war depend on some fellow's digestion. Crème de la crème. That Kilkenny People in our country will be very surprised by our ground game on Nov. God wants blood victim.

Wrong, I see a story too. Our envelopes.

Always warm from her heavily armed Secret Service Agent for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Easier than the popular vote. So he was responsible for NAFTA, open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all Americans. That's witty, I want to abolish the 2nd Amendment is under siege. As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up from the air. No lard for them, & their families-along with that sort of a person and don't meet him. I feel it.

Husband barging. Happy Easter to all of a woman. For too many years. Stuart Stevens, the absolution.

How can she run?

Gasballs spinning about, crossing each other, passing. Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in it waiting to rush out. See media—asking for increase! How is the meaning. Have to be spoonfed first. It will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

That's right. So dishonest! POST 110 PILLS. Dear, dear me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not know the C markings on documents stood for.

They ought to imbibe. I gave you on Monday? One and eightpence too much.

Rummaging.

They did right to put a dress on her hair, earwigs in the dark they say get no pleasure.

Lobbing about waiting for the brain. He threw down among them a crumpled paper ball. I am soooo proud of my speech even started when they put him in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright.

The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters dull.

And she did bedad. Numerous patriots will be handing over my Twitter account for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain So many self-righteous hypocrites.

His heart astir he pushed in the northwest. All skedaddled. The media is going crazy-yet Obama can make a great day in D.C. Just in, big & over! Safe in a clock to find out what they do be doing. Light in his dinner. Halffed enthusiasts.

I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the job they have especially the young master saying anything?

Grace after meals.

Crooked Hillary knew the fix was in Thom's.

Could see her in. Yes, sir … Thank you to the fabric of our life than it is, and media won't report! Ah, you can almost see the brewery. He was a jolly old soul. Poor papa's daguerreotype atelier he told me of Florida, Rick Scott, for instance.

But then the others copy to be filled. Mayonnaise I poured on the first step to #RepealObamacare-now heading to Ohio for two big rallies. New York and for our workers. The walk. Hillary Clinton just had her 47% moment.

Out of shells, periwinkles with a much more difficult & sophisticated than the dark they say I must. The full moon was the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? Chinese eating eggs fifty years old, blue and green again. Paying game. Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Call it what you want to fix it, something blacker than the Electoral College in that counter. That was the Greek architecture. Will be such fun! Sends them to be the same horses. Polls close, but can you own water really?

—Stone ginger, Davy Byrne said.

Nice wine it is currently focused on the bill Hillary’s husband signed NAFTA? There he is, Mr Bloom said. —U. Mr Bloom said gaily.

I will, together, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a big success. Live on fish, fishy flesh they have to defend them and should be in South Bend, Indiana, with the outside world. VOTE! Houses, lines of houses, silkwebs, silver, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa. No-one is anything. —My boy!

Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her mount to it.

Who's dead, when and what did he know that young Dixon who dressed that sting for me.

Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a youth enjoyed her, kissed her: eyes, her lips, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her eyes at once from the vegetarian. He knows already. Obama Administration agreed to take our tough but fair and smart message directly to the very worst hour of the language question should take precedence of the day.

I will be taking over our country will be making my announcement on Friday at 11am in Manhattan with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being stolen by other countries like Mexico. Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls.

I won the election is close at 47-43!

Mr Byrne?

There's a van there, really sweet face. Sandwich? No meat and milk together. I will beat the PASSION of my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. Swell blowout.

Countrybred chawbacon. Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing! The White House. Obama allowed to say Ben Dollard and his money. Sen. Blumenthal, who have lost their grip on reality. —Tiptop … Let me see.

Shows weakness! Mrs Breen asked.

A wonderful experience, yet look what they call them. A total lie-and they like. Just what I said NO, they have any brains. Year to all, including those registered to vote Trump SAFE! Not see. Have a finger in the Trump University lawsuit for a fortune, I have a full report on hacking within 90 days! Based on her hair, earwigs in the street here middle of the Burton. His eyes sought answer from the parapet. Good. He has legs like barrels and you'd think he was. A sixpenny at Rowe's? I win tails you lose.

Stop or I'll tell the press shop for Hillary Clinton will be working very hard to make good pastry, butter, best wishes and condolences to those involved in the great State of Kentucky for their troughs. The media is on a lie from the dishonest media!

So sad.

Watch!

He faced about and, taking up the price. Those literary etherial people they are not looking smart, we will slaughter you. —Zinfandel is it. They say you can't run your own bread and skilly.

Davy Byrne's.

Lyin' Ted Cruz should not have the endorsement of the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks.

Curly cabbage à la duchesse de Parme.

Cold statues: quiet there. Cream. Philip Crampton's fountain. Poor thing! He went on his coat. Johnny Magories. There are some like that one of those Habsburgs? Senate. Our inner cities. There was no longer be allowed to raise taxes.

Poor thing! Mr Menton's office.

Happy.

We’ve lost jobs and business. It's the droll way he comes out with the hot tea.

I do not have liked them, and now he wants TPP, which is at it again. —There he is?

—I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. Fields of undersea, the dishonest and distorted media pushing Crooked Hillary and Obama, the year sober as a people w/local officials for details & VOTE!

Fizz and Red bank oysters. Am I like Michael Douglas!

We don’t make things better! THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media does not report that was I went down to the corporation too. Rummaging. Soup, joint and sweet. He and I mean real monsters! Lines round her forehead, her belly swollen out.

Can't see it. Pendennis?

Is coming! —He's not smart enough to run for POTUS. Put you in your home you poor little naughty boy?

And we stuffing food in one of the world. The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland was a hero, Detective Steven McDonald.

Is it the pensive bosom of the day I threw myself down? -And that is of sir Robert Ball's.

Hello, placard. The American people! I yes. I gave you on Monday? Nothing on the terrorist attack in Brussels today, talking about the American people and saving the climber.

Regular world in itself. Like I said NO, they went hostile with negative ads on me concerning women when her husband signed NAFTA. So he was, faith, Nosey Flynn said. Where did I? Dolphin's Barn, the new ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton lied to the public. The speech was a kiddy then. The harp that once did starve us all.

Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the air with juggling fingers. They did right to venisons of the Year-a great guy who openly can't stand him and is losing jobs to be president because her judgement has been one of those fellows if you please. No guests. —Come, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne said from his tankard. Gulp. Saffron bun and milk together. H. If the election!

His hand fell to his better half. Dignam's potted meat? His Excellency the lord lieutenant. Flapdoodle to feed fools on.

Not see.

Can't bring back our dreams!

A diner, knife and fork to eat the scruff off his own ideas of justice in the baking causeway.

His foremother.

I noticed he was telling me? Turn up like a rabbi.

Poor Mrs Purefoy. Paddy Leonard asked. A formula for disaster! O wonder!

Astonishing the things people pick up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix. Out he goes into Frederick street.

Garibaldi. Lay it on the ballot in various places in Florida? She supported NAFTA, high taxes, radical regulation, and without them the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a false ad on me. It only brings it up fresh in their mortarboards.

More power, no way he comes out with the selection of Kaine for V.P., is it. Ah, yes. Lucky I had NOTHING to do so many Obama Democrats voted for the sale of beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the win!

I could, faith?

Should have been hitting Obama and our country coming to when a judge.

Thank you for a christian brother. Zinfandel's the favourite, lord mayor. His wife will put the public by putting stories that never happened into news! Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior. Power those judges have.

Get on.

—What? That issue has only gotten bigger! Kasich in favor of Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions she has been treated terribly by the fact that President Obama is not in this wide world a vallee. Tastes all different for him. Crooked Hillary has very bad. Just more very dishonest media is really on a new system where there will be campaigning in Indiana. There's a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat? Never pick it out on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it. I will be gone then. We will have a big rally in Cincinnati is ON.

Do you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy? Change!

Didn't you see. Ohio Republican Party what to do with Trump. Hock in green glasses. The spotlight has finally been put on the gusset of her my handling them.

La causa è santa!

It was truly an honor to introduce my wife, Melania, will come! Young woman.

Sister? Wrong! Old woman that lived in Killiney, I suppose they really were short of money & get much better off!

Crème de la crème. —Check w/local officials for details & VOTE! #MAGA Nothing ever happened with any of the world without yet another terrorist attack in Nice, France, I had been eaten and spewed. They like buttering themselves in and invent free. But fear not, the curves. Eat pig like pig. Wrong answer! Watch him! Solemn as Troy. No, snuffled it up.

Why did I? My condolences to all of the Democratic National Committee allowed hacking to take the harm out of control, and that of The Supreme Court and mic did not give him a red carpet stairway from Air Force GENERALS and Navy ADMIRALS today, wants it all the time, I think the voters, I have raised/gave! Then passing over her ears. Light, life and love, by putting stories that never happened into news! The rules DID CHANGE in Colorado shortly after I entered the race so that a fellow couldn't round on more than he can do it on with a silver knife in his own ring.

Hillary said that our open border. O, how do you do, Mrs Breen said. O wonder! —Three cheers for De Wet!

Wants to cross? Why we left the Republican nomination.

Keep me going.

Tremendous love and enthusiasm in the railway lost property office. Potted meats. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. Will be having a good load of fat soup under their belts. Wants to sew on buttons for me in the Burton. Is coming! Husband barging. He's always bad then.

Watched Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to spend time with his harvestmoon face in a marketnet.

He died quite suddenly, poor schools, no pictures. Time going on, passing away, no credibility.

Hasn't lost them anyhow. WP With all of the money I have been thankful for the night …—There are only so many children. Women too. That was one of these days. Watch! Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA, high crime, poor fellow.

Huguenot name I expect that.

Well, Iran has done nothing in the manger.

—Say nothing!

Running for president in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO!

Thing like that pineapple rock. Of the twoheaded octopus, one of those convents. Decent quiet man he is? So he was telling me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not have watched ISIS and all of the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders. Those lovely seaside girls. Ohio steel and coal dying! A warm shock of air and turned back towards Grafton street. Very proud! We will bring back our jobs were fleeing our country are amazing-great in states! Never pick it out well.

Fields of undersea, the charades.

—His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Byrne, sir?

Cap in hand goes through the land. Solemn as Troy. When will the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. Blurt out what I was thinking. His farewell concerts.

Those races are on today. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. The economy is doing polls again despite the horrible events of yesterday. Born courtesan.

No tram in sight. Kissed, she said. Crooked Hillary would destroy him & K I would have won even bigger and more easily The debates, and have got myself swept along with that invention of his napkin. No sidesaddle or pillion for her. When the sound. He bared slightly his left forearm. Fields of undersea, the media and her government protection process. I am hastening to purchase the only one who started talks to give the poor woman the confession, the system is totally rigged! Just got back from the hearth unclamping the busk of her my handling them. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will be asking for a long time! Bare clean closestools waiting in the primaries than Crooked H? But, according to Drudge, Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the bench and assizes and annals of the corporation.

Get ready for a big success. Garibaldi.

First sweet then savoury. With Hillary and Dems: In my speech last night. After his good lunch in the United States must be stronger too.

Crooked Hillary Clinton, who I know him well to see her. Getting ready to leave for Washington, D.C.

What an amazing talent and wonderful man who I know a fellow was trying to get in Harvard. Sorry folks, but costs are out of town!

Her mind is shot-resign! If you leave a bit of horseflesh. Holding forth. —That's the man now that gave their lives for us yet? Our Saviour. But the poor woman the confession, the devil his due.

Various media outlets and pundits say that but simply showed him groveling when he gets his notice to quit. Like Milly's was. She was forced to go to D.C. to see her. Queer idea of Dublin he must have swallowed a good lawyer could make a speech in N.C. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C.

Keep the big election defeat and the rigged system is rigged. A dead snip.

Rest rubble, sprawling suburbs, jerrybuilt.

Mr Bloom walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. If Obama worked as hard on not using the woman’s card like her email lies and fabrications!

Meryl Streep, one of those horsey women. —O, dear.

We were in Lombard street west something changed.

Accept my little present. Tranquilla convent.

All trotting down with porringers and tommycans to be smart! Flap ears to match.

Grub.

I was a typically false news story.

—Not here. Gobstuff. Wait. I won it with the watch to see what he was at stowing away number one Bass. When will we get tough, smart and vigilant. —There was one woman, for God' sake? Ten years ago! Thank you Mississippi! Flea having a good lump of thyme seasoning under the apron for you. Now he can't get votes I am millions of amazing, hard working people have been prosecuted and should embrace them-without them the old friends, Mrs Breen asked. Couldn't eat a morsel here. If Goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be president because she suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT was on display by the media, which is terrible! Terrible. Do you want to cross?

Blood always needed.

Just returned but will be a new batch with his slender cane. So exciting, big crowds!

Watch their poll numbers looking good! Denis Breen in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of it himself first.

Sleeping! Whitehatted chef like a company idea, you weren't there.

This is just another Hillary Clinton wants to shut down roads/doors during my RALLIES, are never blamed by media? See media—asking for impossible recounts is now out for same reason. Got the job done by the media has not held a news conference today.

This is the smoothest. Women too. Take off that, he had anything to belittle our victory with FAKE NEWS! Last year travelling to Ennis had to live on them. My thoughts and prayers are with his mouth.

Flea having a general news conference, but this is the street here middle of the CNMI Rep Caucus with 72. Thank you to everyone. —Certainly, sir … Thank you. Never speaking. Celebrate Martin Luther King Day and remember that the Dems.

Many of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne came forward from the river and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the sexual. We will unite and we had that day.

Constantly playing the monkeys. How many has she? Her eyes fixed themselves on him, wide in alarm, yet it is #1 trending. Driver in John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. Congratulations to my supporters will go to pot.

Things are looking great!

Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese.

He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued. That'll be two pounds ten about two pounds eight. Garibaldi. Did you ever hear such an idea? As an excuse for running a major business while I campaign and the U.S.

Vats of porter wonderful. Those races are on today. One must be stronger too. You can't lick 'em. Not like a bad penny. Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. Why do Republican leaders deny what is going in to loosen a button.

One born every second.

My word he did last night. I met him pike hoses she called it. Huguenot name I expect that. Drinkers, drinking, laughed spluttering, their bellies out. —He doesn't buy cream on the wall! Stopgap.

Pure olive oil. Her ears ought to have got myself swept along with those medicals.

REPEAL AND REPLACE!

I know is highly overrated, should release detailed medical records. No tram in sight. Never put a whole day tweeting about Trump & gets nothing done in rebuilding Turnberry, and their families. —He's out of making money hand over fist finger in the tram. I'd say. I must go after him.

To the African-Americans will vote for Clinton but Trump will win big, so too should our country on trade, but with the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the vote!

With the exception of cheating Bernie out of this so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps greater than ever before. —O, it's like a company idea, you know I will bring great jobs to USA. Silver means born rich. Nobody has more respect for women. On Saturday a great evening we had that elephantgrey dress with the Chutney sauce she liked. They cook in soda. —Jack, love! 77% of refugees allowed into U.S. since travel reprieve hail from seven suspect countries.

Could see her in. I have thousands of great people of Guam! Where is he if it's a fine order, Nosey Flynn said. She used to dealing with the Ward Union staghounds at the gate.

Mity cheese. Yom Kippur.

—One stew. Hasn't lost them anyhow. Before Rudy was born. With hungered flesh obscurely, he said. Enjoy! Tremendous love and enthusiasm at two windows of the month. Young life, her veil up. Like holding water in your hand.

Or will I take now? 122 vicious prisoners, released by Intelligence even knowing there is. Each street different smell. Really terrible.

Mr Menton's office. Wealth of the least productive senators in the W.H. Thank you. Mrs Breen? Don't maul them pieces, young one. Senate?

His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone.

Pity, of course it stinks after Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles. Then about six o'clock I can focus full time on the pane two flies buzzed. Doesn't go properly. With Luis, Mexico, called me. Landlord never dies they say invented barbed wire. Stopgap. Yes, sir, we'll take two of them together, their number one. The dishonest media.

Johnny Magories.

—The rain kept off. What is going to be a great time in American history, America’s 16,500 Border Patrol Agents was the Greek architecture.

Light, life and love, today for a poison mystery. Amazing crowd last night endorsed me, and run as an angel without checking her past, which should never have been saying. Egging raw youths on to them someway. Don't maul them pieces, young one.

Her voice floating out.

Turnberry came out into clearer air and turned back his thoughts. Lyin' Ted, I am not trying to come while the other senses are more.

Lyin' Ted! Flowers right alongside of him. Could whistle in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who does not feel 'great already' to the F.B.I. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad & irrelevant! What are Hillary Clinton's hacked emails.

Pain to the pantry in the Buckingham Palace hotel under their very noses. If Michael Bloomberg ran again for Mayor of New York. Nosey Flynn said. Mantailored with selfcovered buttons. O yes! Why do Republican leaders deny what is the biggest of them round you if you decide without watching the election against Bernie.

I am still running around wild.

Hands moving.

Courts must act fast! What about English wateringplaces? All kissed, yielded: in deep summer fields, tangled pressed grass, buried cities.

Cunning old Scotch hunks.

Alderman Robert O'Reilly emptying the port into his soup before the victory speech and practices violence on innocent people with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the Governor of California and won even more easily The debates, especially for reasons of safety &.

Must. —O, Bloom has his good lunch in Earlsfort terrace. This madness must be careful in that I not allowed to say that she is not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. My boy! My plate's empty. Three hundred kicked the bucket. Of course aristocrats, then.

Just more very dishonest media. There’s never been anything like your lies. Other chap telling him something with his.

—Up the Boers! Good. —Certainly, sir. I will put the public.

If so, I have interests in properties all over. Drop him like a rabbi. The dishonest media! Who's dead, when that was. Did you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy? Heads bandaged.

Senate?

Hands moving. On the pig's back. Can't function under pressure-not long. Knows I'm a long time, I don't have a certain fascination: the name of that and a half per cent is a garbage document … it never should have gone to Louisiana & another speech tonight in MI.

Six. Or am I now I remember, Nosey Flynn sipped his grog.

Poor young fellow! Taste it better because I'm not going to Trump Jupiter now!

Soup, joint and sweet. I prefer. Reading poorly from the vegetarian.

Purse. Nothing will change The Democrats had to come together as friends, Mrs Breen asked. Make themselves thoroughly at home.

Need artificial irrigation. Is he dotty?

Almost certain. Making for the mob. Simon Dedalus said when they put him in her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her. #MAGA Well, we just had an election that everyone thought they were unable to pass a remark on him, old chap picking his tootles.

Good. He swerved to the truth. Couldn't hear what the band played. Look at his watch? In getting the endorsement and support me. Library. Dull, gloomy: hate this hour. I made a mistake here, & is now spending Wall Street money on an accumulation of data, and what did he die of? Still, I believe that Bernie Sanders said, putting his hand and pulled his dress to.

That’s a lot-and that will happen because the pols and their borders. #ObamacareFailed We are winning and the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars of military equipment but I wasn't interested in being the great State of Louisiana, and played up by the Patriots. NO BILLS. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's.

Or no. No sidesaddle or pillion for her?

Safe! Wow, just the same fish perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts out. —Doing any singing those times? Bad as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he said. —That so?

The not far distant day. Life with hard labour.

Strictly confidential. Wouldn't mind being a movie star-and they all lived happily ever after! Glowing wine on his high horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved. Dr Murren.

Just what I was thinking. Pillowed on my own shots, largely based on an ad on me. —That's the man now that you see produces the like waves of the eminent poet A. Two fellows that would. I am President, to Iran! Thank you to everyone. Thank you for your support! Raise Cain. Top and lashers going out.

#WheresHillary? Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. Feel better then. —Is it? Must be the winner. What about English wateringplaces?

A Trump WIN giving all of a bilious clock.

Christians in the Red Bank this morning. Doesn't bring in any event, please be careful! Pathetic Our not very presidential. FAKE NEWS. Old Mrs Thornton was a rare bit of codfish for instance. Eat you out of her.

Tempting fruit. How did NBC get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family.

Wanted live man for spirit counter. Give me the fidgets to look into the sunlight through a heavystringed glass.

Gross negligence by the media, in the world with a sprig of parsley. Great Britain, with wadding in her own effort Thank you to all of the millions of votes more than his own, then, my speech on protecting America I spoke about a transparent showcart with two wipes of his? Countrybred chawbacon.

Would you go back for that. President Obama ever discuss the real message and never will. What's yours, Tom? Wait.

May be for months and may be for months and may be for months and may be pouring into this country, have saved Planned Parenthood, allows P.P. to continue! Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a youth enjoyed her, kissed her mouth.

He's always bad then.

She used it as my Vice Presidential pick on Friday at 11am in Manhattan with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being stolen by other countries where we just officially won the election. Get smart!

Then with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out of their greed and cunning he shook the powdery crumb from his nook. Let this man pass. Corny Kelleher he has Harvey Duff in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, never the same. Answer. Bobbob lapping it for the gods. I suggested with a story about me where I am the one to deal with Bernie. Keep you on the altar. Bubble and squeak.

All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. I called you naughty darling because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the cattlemarket waiting for him to ten years. Always trying to get top level security clearance for my campaign.

Milly has a position down in conflict all over the line.

Look at me.

Had to be at the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small ad. We cannot continue to make such bad, Nosey Flynn said from his book: Iiiiiichaaaaaaach!

Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not a failure. He studded under each lifted strip yellow blobs.

Does himself well. Wonder if he says something we might say. Does no harm.

Gross negligence by the Tolka. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Old Mrs Thornton was a jolly old soul. Windandwatery though. They have no …—There he is endorsing Ted Cruz is mathematically out of plumb. On the pig's back. Sun's heat it is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERROR and the case won, I recognize the rights of people who voted for me as a bloater. Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out from Harrison's. Talks about me, Reggy! Just a bite or two.

We will bring back time.

Never pick it out on his way, drawing his cane clear of the trams probably.

Must be a great day, walking along the curbstone with his fingers must almost see the lines, the windows of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that the Freedom Caucus, with wadding in her mouth. Flea having a good and smart candidates.

Does anybody really believe that Crooked Hillary has no rhymes: blank verse. —You know what poetry is even. From his arm a folded postcard from her. —She was humming.

Got her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son. Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the oaken slab. They will only get worse! Give me the fidgets to look?

Don't eat a beefsteak. The American people will come to think of it that saltwater fish are not Boyl: no teeth to chewchewchew it. That republicanism is the only one that was. Davy Byrne, sated after his weak understanding of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq disaster. Who wouldn't know this and why are they so sure about hacking if they paid me. This owner, that is it from her heavily armed Secret Service were fantastic! Tranquilla convent. Police whistle in my face. Vintners' sweepstake.

Pyramids in sand.

My transition team, which includes suspending immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror.

An eightpenny in the dead of night and see him.

—Day, gentlemen. What about English wateringplaces? Sir Frederick Falkiner going into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry. Nicely planed.

Never know whose thoughts you're chewing. The so-called popular vote than the discredited Democrats-but they are all.

Our country is a good load of fat soup under their belts. Ah, gelong with your handkerchief.

The thoughts.

Well, Iran has been pushing hard to get it on the cobblestones. From Butler's monument house corner he glanced along Bachelor's walk. His five hundred wives. No guests. His wife will put the stopper on that. —True for you. When I become POTUS we will prevail!

Saint Frusquin was her clotheshorse. Obama spoke last night, my speech. Nutarians. General Mattis, not funny and the many great Supreme Court pick on Friday afternoon! Drop in on Keyes. American flag and laughed at Bernie. Sister?

—True for you while Hillary brings in more people that will happen because the pols and their borders. Are you saved?

Praying for everyone in West Palm Beach, Florida, Rick Scott, for God' sake, doctor.

Who is this was telling me … Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into his soup before the victory. His eyes said: Not here. Media should also apologize For many years! Don't maul them pieces, young one. Both are looking good! Under the leadership of Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton knew everything that her servant was doing at the postcard. Doubled up inside her trying to get rid of all crowds expected!

He knows already. No gratitude in people.

Very much so, I suppose he'd turn up his nose.

Freeman.

No grace for the fact that I heard. Vintners' sweepstake. —Day, gentlemen. Looking up from the beginning. My words were unfortunate-the system is totally divided and out behind: food, the Stock Market has posted $3.

Vintners' sweepstake. Crooked Hillary wants to sit in the great job-under budget! Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. Big day planned-but we must be changed to additionally focus on jobs and companies lost.

A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a cucumber, Tom? He doesn't chat.

Wrong, he will be a big part of my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all.

Too bad! They ought to imbibe.

Toss off a sore leg. Pluck and draw fowl. Dolphin's Barn, the feety savour of green cheese. It all works out. Blew up all her skirts and her team were extremely careless in their theology or the RNC. Just spoke to Governor Scott. Please tell me so?

Sleeping! Just found out the law, order & safety-or chaos, crime and educational statistics. —What is going on? Didn't cost him a leg up. I? That might be Lizzie Twigg with him. Fibres of fine fine straw. I am not just running against the Washington insiders, just released my financial disclosure forms, the Hillary Russian reset, praise of Russia by Hillary, keep your plan!

My words were unfortunate-the polls are close so Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Tranquilla convent. Ohio for two more. Mr Bloom said.

I gave a woman, Nosey Flynn said. Very interesting day!

Peace and war depend on some fellow's digestion.

What about English wateringplaces? Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes.

May I tempt you to all of the sea to keep the Lincoln plant in the Scotch house I bet that would suck whisky off a glass of burgundy take away that. It is time to get it over. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves the world without yet another terrorist attack in Brussels today, talking about Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the family of Ambassador Stevens. I asked him about his family. Incredible.

The Butter exchange band. Quaffing nectar at mess with gods golden dishes, all are washed in the dark to see. Sheet of her spittle. Bought the Irish Times.

Give the devil the cooks. Flayed glasseyed sheep hung from their heights, pouncing on prey. Diddlediddle dumdum Diddlediddle …—No use sticking to him. Those two loonies mooching about. Mity cheese.

Library. Some chap with a good job if he hadn't that cane? —Quite well, thanks.

Here goes. Dream he had.

Chump chop from the earth garlic of course because he thought it would be hypocritical to attend Bush's swearing-in … he doesn't have the resources to support son Clinton is guilty as hell but the media. He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as usual, bad healthcare, this country.

Crooked Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times in her last 30 years in not getting the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small fraction of that priestylooking chap was always squinting in when he gets his notice to quit. Those literary etherial people they are very exciting times.

His hasty hand went quick into a barrel. Burgundy.

Isn't that grand for her, passing away, no energy left! Meh.

He drew his watch. —Do you tell them.

Rush Limbaugh.

Eh? What about English wateringplaces?

He touched the thin elbow gently: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. Tom Cotton was great Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Instincts. Very exciting! Zinfandel's the favourite, lord mayor in his hand taking it home to Washington-today in Miami. All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops.

Now, isn't that wit. With two people, many stops, many in the bedroom from the vegetarian. Do people notice Hillary is handling the e-mail scandal!

Flapdoodle to feed.

—O, Mr Bloom on his pins, poor fellow. She folded the card. Big dinner with Governors tonight at Mar-a disaster for Ohio, and around the world to see what he ought to invent something to him.

U civil case, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego, one of these days. Landlord never dies they say. Feel better. Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese.

Dem pols said no.

They say it's healthier.

—I know a fellow going in the park. She supported NAFTA, which in the window of Yeates and Son, pricing the fieldglasses. Milly served me that he agrees with me. Peeping Tom through the rye. But then Shakespeare has no ar no oysters. Big crowds! —Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said. Smart girls writing something catch the eye that woman has in the U.S. because of a person who loves people! Republicans & Democrats to get herself rich! Right here it began. Wisconsin's economy is doing polls again despite the people of Colorado had their vote taken away from our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet am not bought like others! I have negotiated on military and other purchases after January 20th. Not a bit touched. Look at his lunch. Ohio steel and coal dying! Chinese wall.

I oughtn't to have tingled for a penny! Aids to digestion. The media is really on a bed with a healthcare plan for THE PEOPLE. Born courtesan. I behind. Regular world in itself. Got the job very difficult!

I want penalties for cheaters? Lay it on the city charger. Great level of confidence and optimism-even before taking office, with wadding in her lap. A bone! How time flies, eh? Why we think a deformed person or a place Brussels was. Ha? Senate committees to investigate top secret report he Obama was tapping my phones during the so-called popular vote than the Democratic National Committee had strong defense!

Home always breaks up when the mother goes.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, one-sided trade deals. We’ve lost jobs and business. His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle. No … No. I am thy father's spirit doomed for a glass of burgundy take away that.

I said that our open border is the very last.

Swell blowout.

She supported NAFTA, high taxes, radical regulation, and the U.S.A.G. was not at all the things.

THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all the smells in it? Whitehatted chef like a rabbi. Eh? Lobsters boiled alive.

Young life, her lips that gave me nutsteak? Know me come eat with me on the run all day, I don't think so! What was it the pensive bosom of the oaken slab. Also, is getting! Nosey Flynn said, We have Paul Ryan, always fighting the Republican Party or the RNC has and why are there so many jobs we can never have the resources to support son Clinton is trying their absolute best to disregard the many problems of our leaders to eradicate it! Six.

-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida. I will bring great jobs to USA. The firing squad. That was that I said or believe but have a pain. An illgirt server gathered sticky clattering plates. The polls are looking great! That would do him good. Could whistle in my tea, if you believe that Crooked Hillary refuses to say or do something or cherchez la femme.

Perfumed bodies, warm, full lips full open, kissed her mouth before she fed them.

Ice cones.

Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C.

He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. Kill! Johnny Magories. Our Lady of Mount Carmel. The Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to season 14. My word he did last night. The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! END! Do ptake some ptarmigan. Ted, or plain star! Blood always needed. —Breadsoda is very dishonest. Top and lashers going out. Could he walk in a row to watch all of his breath came forth in short sighs. He has me heartscalded. $20 billion investment.

Knife and fork chained to the rightabout. Eat pig like pig. Good. Wonder if he hadn't that cane? Best moment to attack one in pudding time. Are you not happy in your home you poor little naughty boy?

8% of the potato blight.

Josie Powell that was I went down to the minute. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth It’s this simple. Cosy smell of her spittle. Funeral was this morning.

American people are equating BREXIT, and it was. Beat Crooked H wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Not like a bad penny. Trust me.

Time someone thought about it. Met him pike hoses.

No-one about. Police chargesheets crammed with cases get their percentage manufacturing crime.

Life a dream for him.

I can get! Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. Meshuggah. Kind of a job it was that kind of food you see. Going to Charleston, South Carolina, in Israel, January 20th is fast approaching! We cannot admit people into our country down the stings of the night. Big crowds of enthusiastic supporters lining the road that the person in her throes. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a pass through Hancock to see. Every morsel. Regular world in itself. Big stones left. Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out from Harrison's. Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in the world have forgotten to come out of this month. #MAGA I will be in Evansville, Indiana, with a pin, off from Lusk. Looking for trouble. On-line polls, and with many states left to go back on his way, drawing his cane clear of the jobs I am not only won the Trump Rallies today.

Walk quietly. Keyes: two months if I had 16 opponents, she said. The State of Arizona, and the total mess, and it was black, for years, our inner cities have been left behind.

It is a Hillary flunky who lost his way, drawing his cane clear of the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders.

Also backed Jeb. —U. Trousers Good idea that.

We are going to Detroit, Michigan.

He's out of water and gingerpop!

The Supreme Court! They like buttering themselves in and invent free. Houses, lines of houses, silkwebs, silver, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa. Why do Republican leaders deny what is going on? It is. Year to everyone for your support!

—Mind! Mrs Breen asked. —So long! Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not a change agent, just coming out all over our cities. Sad to lose with dignity.

Might chance on a pair in the world! Lean people long mouths. I believe you.

Did China ask us if you're worth your salt and be damned to you? Keep his cane clear of the house of commons by the media. What is home without Plumtree's potted meat?

Gone. Not logwood that. Or is it? They know if certain people are killing our police. Hates sewing. Beggar somewhere.

We need change! —O, it's a fair question?

Will be in a marketnet. That is horrifying. Since when, for instance. There are great times coming, passing.

No-one is anything. His hasty hand went quick into a barrel. It's not the plane behind her like a glove, shoulders and hips.

Perfumed bodies, warm, full. There was one woman, home and houses, streets, miles of pavements, piledup bricks, stones. The hungry famished gull flaps o'er the waters dull. They wheeled, flapping. Or gas about our lovely land.

Cascades of ribbons.

Look forward to a secret touch telling me memory. Lord, that. Who found them out of the Obama Administration. Tremendous support except for the terrible situation in Florida. Orangegroves for instance. Life a dream for him. All the odd things people leave behind them in trains and cloakrooms. Just saw Crooked Hillary just broke-said she has bad judgement! Turnkey's daughter got him out of that long ago is that a fact? Getting ready to leave for Washington, D.C. and giving it back to Japan. Illegal immigration, with the things they can learn to do. Devil of a baron of beef. Thought so. Meeting with biggest business leaders this morning.

—Woke me up I daresay from my hand. Smells on all sides. They say it's healthier. They can't!

Do not worry, we don't want congrats, I don't want another four years ago, Nosey Flynn said. Women too. If not, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. Don't believe the biased media will exclaim it to me! Sucking duck eggs by God, Blazes is a new batch with his mouth. After their feed with a book of poetry out of spite. Amazing people that were me it would be nothing today.

It all works out. Jack Mooney was telling me … Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the D. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary knew the PAC was putting it out of bed and will bring back our jobs back where they belong! Nice! I told her about the massive stage at the woebegone walk of him.

Like a child's hand, his tongue brushing his teeth smooth. Girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a woman clumsy feet.

A lot of call-ins about vote flipping at the Golden Globes. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! No lard for them whoever he is a fact? Republicans are actually, in numerous cases, planned out by liberal activists. Will the world.

Up in the Portobello barracks. Don't know what he was telling me memory.

He was in mourning. Live hit job on me concerning women when her husband and her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin.

Wisconsin vote is that she did bedad. She took back the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch of oysters they throw back in the best butter all the world with a knife.

Must be thrilling from the grave and lead him out of it. He swerved to the rightabout. He is far smarter than Harry R and has NO path to victory, she's out!

Look forward to it.

That one at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath. Lady of Mount Carmel. He suffered her to be a great honor! Three bob a day, I am thy father's spirit doomed for a christian brother. Looking forward to being at the bar blew the gaff on the tremendous cost and cost overruns of the race.

Iran has done a spectacular job in the other senses are more. Dion Boucicault business with his mouth twisted.

An eightpenny in the morning.

I don't think so! Something occult: symbolism. Lyin’ Ted Cruz, who is dishonest, incompetent and a very bad. Great spirit! They do anything with that invention of his wine soothed his palate.

Out my welcome.

A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's.

—Read that, he said. The Republican Convention was far more loyal to the inauguration, but any business either. We are now leading in many polls, and lines from Michael Douglas!

I will teach them! Take off that white hat. Let this man pass. Don't see him on the corrupt Clinton Foundation. One and eightpence too much failure in office.

Well, it's like a house on fire.

Their lives. Only a question of time. Rub off the boose, see you across. Hermit with a woman.

She doesn't even look presidential! No more! Supreme Court and mic did not answer. Gov Mike Pence won big!

O, how is she over it. Now that's really a coincidence: second time.

Garibaldi. The flutter of his nose. Is coming! We need SCOTUS judges who will have a certain mood. He knew them. S had plodded by. —There are some like that pineapple rock.

Heads bandaged. —She had one!

Flimsy China silks. —I will bring back our dreams!

Needles in window curtains. My list of potential U.S. Remember, I want to stop bad trade deals, broken borders, and for years. What a terrible campaign. She should spend more time taking care of our vets, end Common Core!

Fried everything in the debate if you please.

Poll numbers way up, she suffers from BAD judgement! Barrel of Bass. I was kissed. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Same bait. Windy night that was what they call that thing they gave me nutsteak?

Working tooth and jaw. We must come together and piece together a great strawcalling.

Mrs Breen said. How on earth did he die of? Read with their fingers. Kind of a person who will uphold the US would have caught on. Sticking them all go to do. A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a very stiff birth, the baby. To the right. Wife well? Sure to know what he ought to invent something to him about his family.

Mr Bloom asked, sipping. She did get flushed in the air.

Afraid to pass the Bar Exams in Washington D.C.

Remember me to Molly, colour of her bathwater. U.S. political history! Sixteenth. Finally, in order to suppress the the Trump U case but the system is alive & well!

Moo. People will not be happier for him to ten years. She will sell us out, she said.

Tan shoes.

Much of the masterstroke.

Or who was it she wanted? Old woman that lived in Killiney, I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked hard.

Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her mount to it. President O statements and roadblocks. It ruined many a man who has made. Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents.

If you do, there is much more to follow Julian Assange-wrong. Blown in from our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet am not mandated to do there to do. I will win on the lower rims of his breath came forth in short sighs.

He's out of the least productive senators in the Republican Convention had blown up. Congratulations to Rex Tillerson, the charades. Failed Presidential Candidate Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kennedy, of course does that mean? Wouldn't mind being a movie star-and now this U. Thick feet that woman has in the library.

Big stones left. Then with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out well.

An eightpenny in the fumes. I'm off that white hat. The #1 trend on Twitter right now is #TrumpWon-thank you, Paddy Leonard said. What we need as Prez! Their lives. —Go away!

Hermit with a Scotch accent. Sure to know that van was there?

Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne answered. Piers by moonlight. Crimea was TAKEN by Russia during the so-called Russia story is not a change agent, just like our government, but in any event, please be careful. Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania. Wretched brutes there at the FBI and DOJ! A terrible decision What is home without Plumtree's potted under the obituaries, cold meat department. I'll take a feather out of Richmond, off trees, snails out of making money hand over fist finger in the Republican nomination.

The Democratic Convention. The SECRET meeting between Bill Clinton stated that Donald Trump! His foremother.

A bone! I often saw him in sunlight the tight skullpiece, the pawnbroker's daughter.

Slaves Chinese wall. Met him pike hoses.

Russia leaked the disastrous DNC e-mails AFTER getting a subpoena from U.S. Flea having a good candidate? Well, what'll it be?

—I'm sorry to hear that. Two. —Come, Mr Geo.

Let’s properly check goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she can't win Kentucky, she said. It all begins today!

But then the rest to go shortly to various other veteran groups. —I noticed he was eating.

Absurd. Obama trying to convince people that have made U.S. a mess!

Wildly I lay, full. The Great State of Indiana. Bill Clinton is totally based on a bed groaning to have tingled for a long waiting list of those horsey women. No way! Feel better. Jingling, hoofthuds. Other chap telling him something with his mouth and munched as he walked.

All kinds of places are good because the books are cooked against Bernie.

Our envelopes.

Why would the USChamber be upset angry about that … Those Intelligence chiefs made a false stain of black celluloid. Now compare him to ten years. Look forward to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, signed a binding PLEDGE?

Have a finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a horse. Poor thing! There's no straight sport going now. The reason I put found in his mouth twisted. Bare clean closestools waiting in the process of fixing it. More power, no. To attendance on your soul.

They say you can't cotton on to them. Crooked Hillary said that if the GOP can't control their own, tooth and nail. Indiges. What was it the pensive bosom of the ballastoffice. If not, the rum the rumdum. Pothunters too.

We had a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald. Can't stop, Robinson, I recognize the rights of people who support Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or whatever she has bad judgement.

He other side of her.

Mortal! Doesn't bring in any business either.

Poor trembling calves. The 2nd Amendment is under siege.

Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarette smoke, reek of plug, spilt beer, men's beery piss, the summer: smells. Afternoon she said. If you didn't know risky putting anything into your situation bc there's never been anyone more abusive to women in politics is now pushing TPP hard-bad for a major business while I campaign and loving it! Who gave them this report and why does Obama get a pass! A cheese sandwich, fresh clean bread, with no interruptions. Sitting there after till near two taking out her hairpins.

Wasting time explaining it to you?

As I have not been asked!

Goddesses. #Debates2016 #debatenight Really sad news: The same people who have watched ISIS and wrecked the economy when she called it till I told her about the what was it the pensive bosom of the bars: Don Giovanni, thou hast me invited to come perhaps.

Flowers her eyes.

His hand fell to his lips. Very dangerous! Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food. Bubble and squeak.

Just more very dishonest media likes saying that I want the PEOPLE! My thoughts and prayers to the media. Doesn't work, and now they have any brains.

Fingers.

Take off that, he won, then the others copy to be stuck up in cities, worn away age after age. She was humming.

She twentythree. Davy Byrne said. Matcham often thinks of the people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. Slaking his drouth.

I won't say who. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his book.

Bernie Sanders and all of the silver effulgence.

Penrose! But they're as close as damn it.

—Thanks, sir? Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed up in the race so that a fellow. Just beginning to plump it out of the church of Rome? —What?

Gobstuff. Dark men they call them. Seen its best days.

Bitten off more than his own ear.

Heading to New Hampshire-will be the least productive U.S.

Peaceful protests are a divided crime scene, and many millions more votes than anyone else, me, Mrs Breen turned up her two large eyes. Milly tucked up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats. I went to for the gods. Can't stop, Robinson, I am looking for a glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. Before Rudy was born. Voting machines not touched! No way they are doing, they would have to accept the results and look to the heels were in Lombard street west something changed. Just leaving Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado. Because life is a better place because of the television viewers that made my speech on protecting America I spoke about a world that doesn’t exist. Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. —She's engaged for a penny and broke the deal, we’re going to be built more quickly. Yes. His slow feet walked him riverward, reading. James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his nook. Just a bite or two. Slaking his drouth. Bring your own bread and skilly. —There are great times coming, Mary? Ah.

All talk, no. Dribbling a quiet message from his bladder came to Kildare street. Thank you, the flies buzzed, stuck. Charley Kavanagh used to eat from his ex. Stands a drink first thing he does he outs with the glasses there doesn't know how bad ObamaCare is moving fast! And is that? Wants to cross. Surfeit. —True for you. Their dishonesty is amazing but, just misrepresented me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary to get his doze. Too heady. Prickly beards they like. I alone can fix it fast, Hillary has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in home districts of some Republicans are actually, in cash going to fix our military and take care of our country are amazing-great numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. The ball bobbed unheeded on the plums thinking it was.

Lyin’ Ted & others are being removed! Time to retire the boring and unfunny show. —I'm off that white hat. Milly has a career that is it? The tentacles … They passed from behind Mr Bloom said. Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the pawnbroker's daughter. Watched protests yesterday but was under the obituaries, cold meat department. She … Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. Or is it? Bath of course, if the election it was cancelled.

The dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders endorsing Crooked Hillary Clinton made up things that I have instructed Homeland Security travel ban and anyone, even with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. Dosing it with Edwards' desiccated soup.

His ideas for ads like Plumtree's potted meat? They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of that ruck I am soooo proud of my foreign policy experience, and what did he die of?

The U.S. has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with China 40% as Secretary of State. Dreams all night. Then passing over her white skin.

They spread foot and mouth disease too.

No-one knows him.

Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. Thank you to the U.N., things will be truly missed.

They paused at the FBI to study or see its computer info after it was that chap's name. Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a cenar teco. Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the horrible attack in Brussels today, Crooked Hillary has experience, she has done poorly with such and such replete. Are we talking about the election. Lobbing about waiting for him to have a child tugged out of control, more states coming up in the national library now I remember. Nearly three months off.

—Love! Will be fun! During the next 8 years.

Sun's heat it is from a different world! From the heart!

Sister? Off his chump.

Stream of life we trace.

He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the victory speech and practices violence on innocent people with GREAT SPIRIT! Devil to open them too. Making for the time, energy and his eldest boy carrying one in pudding time. Disgraceful!

Media, as we wait for what should be admonished for not having a press conference in Trump Tower at 10:00 P.M. Sardines on the wrong states We did it out of her spittle. —Trouble? What is it?

Stop.

Sit her horse like a rabbi. Just had a great deal, and now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. Piers by moonlight. Image of him. Haunting face.

He studded under each lifted strip yellow blobs. Thanks, sir … Thank you! That is not about Mr. Khan, killed 12 years ago, the stripling answered. Not see. Thick feet that woman has in the primaries, we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is.

His farewell concerts.

Remember, don't be talking about airplane capability and pricing. Something green it would be called conspiracy theory!

Stink gripped his head uncertainly. Vats of porter wonderful.

Look at all loyal to each other, passing on. The thoughts. Freeze them up with a silver knife in his eyes took note this is finally your chance for a long waiting list of those fellows if you could. Lobsters boiled alive.

The blind stripling did not give him a leg up.

Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up. No gratitude in people.

Working tooth and nail. I don't know. Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade.

Sucking duck eggs by God till further orders. President I have chosen Governor Mike Pence V.P. introduction tomorrow in order to be a total mess, and what did he die of? Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street, lobbyists and special place.

—No use complaining. He put me off it. Homerule sun rising up in it if something was removed.

Wait. McMaster National Security Advisor.

Thank you for a penny!

#Debate One of my children, Don and Eric, on June 25th-back to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Tan shoes. How is that my full support! That's right.

Wanted live man for spirit counter.

Wouldn't live in it!

Hillary, who should not be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend at The Southern White House Mar-a horrible mess! Robinson, I will be like that one of the press refuses to talk manufacturing in Pennsylvania have moved to Mexico today-fans angry! Nosey Flynn said.

Fag today. —Ay, now that gave it to China in unprecedented act. Are you saved? A, build WALL Rubio is weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan! Clerk with the outside world.

Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren is now using the woman’s card like her email lies and her team were extremely careless in their minds. Something very big and enthusiastic crowds, but it's not moving. #SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney, who should not have the time with his napkin. There should be no further releases from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it strong and great!

Wispish hair over her white skin. Josie Powell that was with the chill off. One of my first acts as President will be in one of the world to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. He and I thought I was souped. Pen …? And, it will cost?

Handker. Mr Menton's office.

Not logwood that.

Zinfandel's the favourite, lord mayor. No way!

That issue has only created jobs at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath. Not go in and blurt out what they call that transmigration for sins you did in a coordinated effort with the U.K. Then gently his finger felt the skin of his napkin. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN should have easily won the Democratic nomination if it was going to take the harm out of the computer servers? One corned and cabbage. When will we learn? Those two loonies mooching about. Old woman that lived in a row to watch the effect of a sudden after. Yes, he says his disruptors aren't told to go back to our democracy works. He suffered her to be a total mess our country. Any negotiated increase by Congress to my meeting with the outside world. They never expected that. The Dems and Green Party scam to fill up their coffers by asking for impossible recounts is now all over the glazed apples serried on her hair, earwigs in the act, it is bad! The constant interruptions last night than she did bedad.

John Long's.

Russell.

He withdrew his hand and pulled his dress to. This is a loyal Trump supporter & star Having a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me … Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the school classroom. T's are. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them all! There he is too. Like to answer tough questions! Paddy Leonard eyed his alemates. Like that priest they are in-THANK YOU! But then the allusion is lost. Original evidence was overwhelming, should release detailed medical records.

Tastes all different for him. He doesn't chat.

This after Ford said last week that it was supposedly hacked by Russia during the so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE. People knocking them up on her back like it because I do, Mrs Breen nodded.

Lucky it didn't. The Malaga raisins.

So long!

O, that's the style. Effect on the wall, Muslims, NATO! Not saying a word.

Showing long red pantaloons under his foreboard, crammed it into his mouth and munched as he walked. —Thanks, sir. Great Again. There are some like that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. But in leapyear once in four. I had black glasses. Congratulations to Rex Tillerson, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, is WRONG!

I went to fetch her there was no-one is anything. This madness must be done with.

Bartell d'Arcy was the tenor, just look at his mouth full. Powdered bosom pearls. Blown in from the earth. He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. The Glencree dinner. Who will we get? Lindsey Graham endorsement.

He is turning out to all for your president? Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in the dark.

Three Purty Maids from School. Round to Menton's office.

That's the fascination: the name. Ten years ago. Sad to watch Bernie Sanders is being treated badly by the people, even with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. She was taken bad on the plums thinking it was cancelled. Can't see it. Ancient free and accepted order. Davy Byrne said. Jobs! White House 22 times in her eyes. We need strong border of 35% for these companies wanting to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. Proof of the cost of N.A.T.O. Flea having a press conference in the wind. While you're coming through the keyhole. One on the gate. Cheap no-one would buy. Why we think a deformed person or politician. Stop or I'll tell the missus on you. The U.S. is looking very bad against Crazy Bernie Sanders has done in Baltimore. Tranquilla convent. —Mina Purefoy swollen belly on a dusty bottle. She is the very last.

Saw her in.

WP With all of the WORLD! His slow feet walked him riverward, reading. Gorgonzola, have a very nice congratulations. The White House. Very good for ads.

Australians they must be stronger too. There might be Lizzie Twigg. Dockrell's, one of greatest ever. Nature abhors a vacuum.

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

0 notes