#the joke is that shear's right and left hand man are very strong and way older than him but still call him boss

[starrysharks]

pirate duo (i haven't decided on the third member's appearance yet...)

#ocs #my ocs #my ocs art #original character #shear ramshackle #lars lycan #the joke is that shear's right and left hand man are very strong and way older than him but still call him boss #why does shear captain a ship on his own even though he's just 14? that's spoilers so i won't spill #but he does like to brag about being the youngest living star pirate captain (much to nova's annoyment as shes just a year older) #will add some extra tags here #kemonomimi #furry #wolf furry #zeno's art #ultimate x-calibur

[normal-thoughts-official]

Conversations You Can Have While Your Partner Ties You Up

Tom and Andy try shibari without supervision for the first time, and Andy is nervous.

Tom uses his best soothing technique: running his mouth.

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Relationship: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional Tags: Humor, Crack, Fluff and Crack, not smut!, not that there's anything wrong with that i just want to be clear, so no one's disappointed lmao, it's just the two of them bantering while andy ties him up, Tom Sato Has Strong Feelings About Yogi, Established Relationship, BDSM, Good BDSM Etiquette, because apparently bad bdsm etiquette is a tag and fuck that noise, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, altho again we don't really get into that but idk best to tag, way too many puns, they are very in love and it's disgusting, i am on my bullshit again, Almost No Beta We Die Like Uhh Bigender People

Read it on Ao3

It's the first time they're trying out shibari without an instructor supervising, and Andy is nervous. Tom can tell that Andy is nervous because his eyes keep darting to the safety shears way too frequently, and also because he whispered "God, I'm nervous" to himself several times while he was setting the gear.

Tom prides himself greatly in his Andy-reading skills.

Andy barely breathed while he was setting up the sleeve, making sure every single strand of rope was several inches away from the smallest articulation, checking and rechecking that he could put two fingers under the rope, and asking whether or not it was too tight every five seconds. All while holding his breath. Tom was scared he'd pass out from oxygen deprivation or something.

Getting to the harness part was a little better. For about ten seconds. The knots there are mostly decorative, but wouldn't you know, turns out Andy's perfectionist streak decided to kick in right then.

He's redoing the same knot for the third time when he starts to mumble. "Ancient Japanese art of being a pain in my ass..."

Ah yes, Tom thought to himself, grinning. A prime opportunity. "I thought it was you who was supposed to be the pain in my ass," he says.

Andy groans.

"Oh, come on, it was right there!"

"I realized my mistake as soon as it left my mouth"

"Me when you suddenly stop fucking my face."

Andy snickers, and Tom considers it a win. "Shut up," he says.

"Yes, dud- Sir."

"Were you about to make a BDSM joke and call me dude?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. Shut up!" Tom laughs, "In my defense, the horny and clown signals have been getting a little mixed up the last, like, five seconds."

"Why did that make me imagine you in a sexy clown outfit?"

"I'm just gonna go ahead and veto that idea right now."

"What, you don't want to explore clown kink?" Andy puts on his best Dom voice, "Honk for me, slut." He starts giggling.

"Andy, I swear to god, my dick's gonna go soft."

"Don't you dare!" Andy yelps, "I've been training for months to be able to tie you up like this and I will fuck you in Shibari, god damn it!"

"Yeah, no, nevermind, you're really hot when you're determined."

Andy smiles, "Oh, stop. Is that too tight?"

Tom tries to give him a thumbs up, then remembers that he can't and shakes his head instead. "No, it's good."

Andy nods in acknowledgement, then grins at Tom again. "Cool, so… Back to sexy clowns?"

"No clowns are sexy. They're terrifying."

"You willingly went into a haunted town."

"Yeah, and you know how many clowns there were there? Zero."

"So that's the criteria for our sexy costumes? Is, like, sexy zombie bear still on the table then?"

"I'm gonna ask you to take a moment to consider the words that are coming out of your mouth."

"I've never done that in my life and I'm not going to start now." Andy says, casually, then frowns. "Can you help me with this one?"

"Heh," Tom smiles, "sorry dude, my hands are tied."

Andy groans. "Will you stop making puns, you ass?"

"Heh, ass-"

Andy ignores him. "I meant, lift your hip a little bit."

"Aye aye, captain."

"This is virtually the same as 'yes, Sir', yet so different."

"Ooh, do I smell pirate roleplay?"

"You know what? We could get those old hats we used when we were kids-"

"Do you know where to get a sword? I very much want swords."

"Ooh, knife play but long."

"I need to make a swordplay pun right now."

Andy gives a little laugh. "Do you?"

"I'm just not inspired enough. Guess I gotta get better with my wordplay..."

This time, Andy full-on laughs. He needs to stop focusing on his knots for a second. Tom's grin is way too proud.

Andy bites his lip. "Come on, this is gonna take forever at this rate. Help me out for a sec."

"Sorry, my hands are-"

"Okay, if you make that pun one more time, I'm not letting you cum at all tonight."

"You promise?"

"Ugh. Punishing you is so hard. Let me rephrase that. If you make that pun one more time, I am letting you come tonight, just once, and then calling it a day, like this is vanilla sex or something."

Tom gasps. "Evil."

"Or maybe I'll make you say that Yogi is not that bad."

"You'll never take me alive."

Andy gestures to Tom's immobilized body, smiling. "Pretty sure I already have you."

"Oh no, I had the instinct to say something incredibly sappy and disgusting."

"Were you going to answer 'always'?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny."

"Well, that's a shame. 'Cause if that had been the case, I'd have said, 'same'."

Tom pretends to swoon as best as he can, considering he's almost completely immobilized. It mostly consists of tilting his head. "And they say romance is dead."

"You gave me finger guns when I first said 'I love you'."

"And you think I should be the standard?"

"Well, who else is it gonna be? Me? When you first said 'I love you', I said 'sweet'."

Tom smiles, softly. "It was pretty sweet, if you ask me."

Andy bites the inside of his cheek. "Shut up. I'm almost done, by the way."

"Nice."

"Not thanks to you."

"Okay, look, I know I'm not supposed to say that my hands are tied anymore, but in this case it's just, like, literally true."

"Doesn't mean you have to keep distracting me."

"Ooh, I'm distracting?" Tom wiggles his eyebrows, lifting his hips up a bit.

Andy laughs. "You know that, in this case, you're getting in the way of us having sex, right?"

"I don't know, man. I'm tied up, my dick is hard, you're touching me, you're smiling, that's a win in my book."

"You're only partially tied up, which is exactly my point."

Tom makes his best impression of Akon in I Just Had Sex, "Still counts!"

Andy snorts, but tries to compose himself. "So, what, once I'm done with this I can just leave you tied up and call it a day?"

"I mean, that'd be hot, yeah."

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"You love me."

"Don't change the subject."

Tom grins. "So you admit that you love me."

"I'm your boyfriend of three years."

"Don't change the subject."

It's Andy's turn to grin. "Of course I love you, you dork. Now shut up so I can finish tying you up."

"Aww, I love you too."

"Thanks, man."

"I'm sorry, did you just say 'thanks, man'?"

"Well, my hands are busy, so I can't finger gun."

"Will you let it go?"

"Very funny thing to say while I'm tying knots around your dick."

"Ah, you're right. In that case, tie me up harder."

"How am I supposed to tie you up harder?"

"I don't know, I just think it sounds sexier when you add a 'harder' at the end."

"Like, 'honk harder, clown'?"

"Now you're just trying to upset me."

Andy smiles at him, slyly. "Maybe I think you need a little punishment."

Tom grins in a way that makes Andy regret everything he's ever said. "Aww yeah, baby, I better start singing La La La, 'cuz I've been a Naughty Boy."

Andy can't help it. He bursts out laughing. "You dork!" He wheezes, face falling on top of Tom's shoulder as he laughs. Tom grins.

"See, that's the Andy I know and love, laughing at every stupid shit I say."

Andy giggles for a few more seconds, holding onto Tom's shoulders, before shaking his head to try and focus. He still lets out a little laugh every once in a while, though. "I swear, it's like you don't want me to fuck you in shibari," he grumbles.

Tom looks appalled. "This is slander."

"Then, like, get into ropespace and stop talking or something."

"I can't get into ropespace when I know you aren't, either," Tom grumbles.

Andy freezes. "What?"

Tom bites the inside of his lip, turning in the other direction. "You were nervous," he says. Then he nods in the direction of Andy's hands, "you've been a lot calmer since we started talking. You're almost done."

Andy looks down, actually realizing that Tom's torso is almost entirely decorated with knots at this point. "Oh. You're right."

Tom grins again. "So, see, by distracting you with my dumb shit, I actually helped us finish this quicker. And they say running your mouth isn't a talent."

Andy smiles. Lets the rope go. Throws his arms around Tom's neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, love," he says, peppering kisses in his face. Tom laughs.

"You're welcome. Now finish tying me up so we can get this show on the road," he says, way too innocently. Andy grins, and pulls his hair.

"You're in no position to make demands, slut."

Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. He smiles again. "Yes, Sir."

#it lives #it lives in the woods #ilitw #tom sato #andy kang #tom x andy #andy x tom #tomdy #literally when will i stop #crack

[janekfan]

Good Man

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333422

Inevitably, Martin crossed paths with Jon in a hallway despite his promise to Lukas. And despite that promise, he couldn’t help but notice his poor condition, like a stiff breeze would be enough to do away with him. He was trailing a heavily scarred hand against the wall for support and didn’t seem to notice him.

“Jon?” He looked up slowly, head heavy, eyes blank and bright and filling with sorrow when he realized who was in front of him.

“S’sorry, ge’out of your way.” But when he went to step around Martin, his bad leg buckled and instead of making any attempt to break his own fall, Jon tipped forward, sprawling out on the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Before he could react, Daisy swung around a corner.

“Oh, thank christ.”

She was out of breath, shaken, falling to her knees and carefully tipping him towards her. “I told you to stay put.” Martin watched her fuss, patting his cheek to rouse him and tsking at his temperature.

“Nnghur’s…” What hurts? Martin had yet to intervene, standing awkwardly off to the side and worrying like mad without the right to.

“I know, told you I’d be back.” She glanced up at Martin, sharp eyes pinning him in place like a butterfly, like she meant to keep him under glass. “Questions?” They narrowed further. “If not, he needs some space. Unless you plan on sticking around for a bit.”

“What’s that mean?” Martin couldn’t help feeling frustrated, snapping at her and regretting the bite in his voice immediately when Jon seemed to perk up, head lolling where it was now pillowed in Daisy’s lap.

“I’m. Well, I won’t say I’m sorry.” One hand buried in Jon’s hair turned his face into her stomach as though to shield his view. “He’s having a rough go of things and. And he’s not been well.” With care he wouldn’t have expected from Daisy, she looked down at him, tucked his flyaways back, smoothing almost nervously along to where it was all tied back in a messy bun. “He. Misses you, Martin.”

“I’ve explained why I can’t. I. I shouldn’t even be here right now!”

“I know that! He knows that. It doesn’t stop these feelings he succumbs to when he's star--” She bit her lip, unsure. “When he’s struggling.” Cryptic. That’s fine.

“I can help.” She scoffed, still playing with his hair. “At least. I. To wherever he wandered away from.”

“Dragging him by his ankles is probably not the best for him.” While she concurred, it looked like it physically pained her to do so. Martin took that as permission and bent down to ease his arms beneath Jon’s diminished body. “Careful!” When he groaned wordlessly, hot and limp in his hold. “Just, there. On the cot.” It turned out that Jon hadn’t made it very far, just barely out the door of document storage and having turned a corner into the hall. The place was set up like a sickroom with half a dozen different pill bottles, bandages, antiseptic, clean water all lined up and organized on the filing cabinets. A basin holding water and a flannel sat beside the cot, sheets rumpled and in disarray, trailing on the floor where Jon must’ve fought his way out. What was happening here? He didn’t even want to think about why there was a key stuck in the lock outside. “He’s burning up.” Daisy returned to her fretting, wringing the cloth and draping it folded over his closed eyes, telling him not unkindly, to hush.

“He has bad days and not so bad days.”

“Please tell me this isn’t a not so bad day.” Martin joked darkly, unable to hide his worry, knowing he had to leave and leave soon.

“It’s. He hasn’t had a statement in a while. It gets. Uh.” Daisy’s hands shook and she ran her fingers through her own short sheared hair. “Bad.” Martin’s heart constricted in his chest to see Jon like this and have to leave him. He couldn’t even offer to help. Not without risking them all.

“I--”

“I know.” She tapped some medication into her hand. “Just, quietly, yeah?” Martin nodded, slipping silently through the door and closing it behind him before pressing his back against the wall.

Listening.

“Take these, mhm. Now a sip.” A plastic water bottle crinkled in someone’s hands. “More if you can.” Jon’s refusal was barely audible and more whimper than word. “Okay, alright.” Shuffling bed linens, the sound of water wrung from the cloth again. “What’s wrong, Jon?” And the way she said his name was like an endearment.

“H’h’hates me.” And god, he was weeping. Exhausted, broken little cries. Please let Daisy be comforting him somehow. Please, when he couldn’t be there to do it and damn Peter Lukas and damn his plans.

“Martin?” He imagined her stroking his head like she did before. Soft. So unlike her. But she was of the Hunt and needed a pack. Perhaps Jon was it. “He could never, foolish man.” Something like teasing. Martin remembered the feeling of Jon in his arms, a fragile, breakable thing made of scarred skin stretched over sharp, angular bones.

But Jon was still crying. Struggling to breathe. And no, Martin, you cannot go back in there. Because you’re doing this for him. It would be worth it. In the end, it would be. He clung to that.

“You said he was doing something important, yeah?” More blankets shifting and he risked a glance, just a small one. No harm done, certainly. Because being on the outside of all this, intruding on this, was about as Lonely as one could be. Daisy was laying beside him on the cot now and he was tucked up close and quivering. With thin, wasted hands she brushed away glistening tears. “And you trust him, yeah?”

“Mor’an, mor’an anythin’...” To hear Jon’s strong voice reduced to this. This trembling, shattered thing.

“So?” If anything, he cried harder and Martin didn’t think he could take another moment. “Hush now, shh, just the fever making you weepy.” Muffled now, he pictured his face hidden away against her shoulder. “We’ve talked about you getting more sleep, Jon.”

“Mmh.” Damp and choking.

“It’ll help you feel better, to get proper rest.” Despite the dreams he stalked through and the pain he caused others without ever meaning to. Wanting to. “‘Nother sip, come on now.” Though hitching, his breath was even. Becoming slow. “Close your eyes. That’s it. Good man.”

And there were so few left here.

#TMA #The magnus archives #jon and daisy are friends #Martin Blackwood #Daisy Tonner #Jon Sims #Mutual pining #sick #fever #starvation #crying #Jon just wants Martin #self indulgent #Protective Daisy

[gutwhump]

Non-con body mod for BTHB because I’m feeling feeding the boy to the evil angst demons

Rowan BTHB — Non-Con Body Modification

@badthingshappenbingo

[[ CW: needles, implied noncon surgery, implied drugging, light medical whump, transphobia, forced detransitioning. stay safe

This got real long. I couldn’t introduce owner number one, I just hate him 😔 so enjoy more WRU and Tybalt. ]]

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

The first time someone changed her, she was afraid.

Instead of her usual training routine, her primary handler had woken her up and walked her straight back to the medical wing. It was never a good sign to be brought there when you weren’t sick. She shook and whined when they reached an office door she’d never been through before, hoping to earn some mercy by wearing her fear on her sleeve. Every trainee eventually learned that anything new would only hurt you.

“Hah, no getting out of this one, sweetheart. You’ll live. Your buyer just sent in a few customization requests,” he said, swinging the door open and shoving her inside. It was a brightly lit office, with multiple chairs, a desk, and tables housing all kinds of strange equipment. The man sitting inside didn’t strike her as particularly scary, but she knew what customization meant. She’d seen the other pets, sometimes, with all kinds of humiliating tattoos and surgeries.

“592...604? Alright, bring her here,” the new man sighed, as he rolled his chair over to one of the tables. “You know I hate doing this, right? It’s the hardest fucking one to manage when they start squirming.”

She wanted to press herself into the wall at his exasperated tone, but she knew she’d just be dragged back into position if she did.

“N-No, sir, I… I won’t s-squirm, I swear, I’ll b-be good,” she stuttered. Make him happy, and whatever’s going to happen will be better. If he’s pleased, he’ll go easier.

“Bah. They all say that,” the man said, though he wasn’t really speaking to her. “You lot need to stop offering this to the clients, or one of these days, a product is gonna wind up with some real damage.”

“Okay, so give her a sedative. Not that hard.”

The other man rolled his eyes. “They don’t give me any of that shite. Bring the next one in sedated already. This one, just bring her here.”

‘604 was hauled closer, then ordered down onto her knees. She looked up pleadingly into the man’s impassive eyes. He picked up a metal instrument and tapped her lips with it.

“Open up, and keep it open.”

She obeyed, already trembling. Her mouth didn’t close, even when he clamped the instrument around her tongue and pulled it farther out, making her whimper in fear. He tilted it a few different ways and shined a strange, blue light on it before he was satisfied.

“Alright, good girl for that. Now for god’s sake, stop crying and close your eyes.”

She tried to choke back the noises and squeezed her eyes shut tight, praying that it’d be over quick. She didn’t want anything to happen to her tongue. But even more than that, she didn’t want to think about what “real damage” would mean.

She heard him pick something up off the table. But the only thing on the nearest table had been, had been… she started sobbing in fear. She tried to pull away but didn’t get far, thanks to the clamp around her tongue— she didn’t want to be bad, she didn’t want to, she just couldn’t bear the thought of a needle going through it. There’d been a time when she hadn’t been so afraid of needles, she thought, but she’d learned to hate and fear them in her new life.

“Fuckin’ Christ, it always has to be a circus. Can you hold her?”

Her handler’s strong arms wrapped around her, then pulled her head back and held it in place while she cried. She was going to pay dearly for this later, she already knew.

“Hnn, a-ah’m th-owry,” she tried to apologize.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just hold still.”

She didn’t have a choice, she shut her eyes again and silently begged for mercy as the man held her tongue out straight. And suddenly, with a pinch… it was over.

‘604 was silent for a moment, holding her breath in confusion. That was it? It didn’t… it didn’t really even hurt. She went limp and opened her eyes as a small rod was passed through the new hole in her tongue. It was a little sore, but she barely felt the bottom of the piercing being screwed on.

She’d ruined her own day… incurred an unknowable punishment… over something so small. It was incredibly stupid. How could she have been so bad?

Her handler chuckled at the sudden silence. “I told you you’d live. Stupid bitch.”

“Prisses, every one of ‘em,” the other man commented, standing up from his chair and moving to sterilize his equipment. “Go on, then, I have another appointment in five.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the handler joked.

He then dragged her to her feet by the collar and marched her back out the door. She allowed herself to be jerked around through silent tears. How would they teach her a lesson this time? When would she learn?

—————————

The second time someone changed her, she didn’t even know it was happening. She just woke up after, groggy and aching and restrained on a soft bed.

‘604 tilted her head to the side slowly. She’d never seen a room like this before. It was wide and open and bright, and there were other Box Babes in her situation, in various states of consciousness. It looked like it was for recovery, but nothing had happened for her to recover from. She’d been good the day before. She’d been so, so good, and she was barely hurt at all.

When she shifted, though, it was clear that something was wrong. Her chest was awfully sore. Why? Had she fallen ill, and had to have surgery? This was what she imagined someone would feel like after surgery.

‘604’s wrists chafed at the restraints as she tried to work the blanket down on her body, to see the damage. But when it finally fell off… she wished she hadn’t.

Her chest was bandaged up on either side, and it was swollen. No, not all of it was swelling, it was just bigger. Where she’d had moderate B-cups before, there were two outsized globes that she could barely see her stomach past. She stared down at them dully.

It seemed obscene, somehow. She didn’t know why. She was a girl, they’d taught her over and over, and besides that, she was property. She was a Box Babe, and babes were meant to be pretty, they were meant to be whatever their buyers wanted, and they were so very lucky to be wanted. This request was what her buyer wanted. It would make him happy.

So why could she only feel dread? Tears leaked down her face, and her ribcage felt too tight around her heart, as if it could strangle the soft, beating thing. This would make him happy. She was a girl. She was a good girl.

He was a grown-ass man.

Suddenly, the thought that usually comforted her made her heave in wrongness. Little, confused cries left her between the nauseous convulsions. What was wrong with her? It was permanent, it was a fucking tit job, he couldn’t get them off, he wanted to claw them off. Why did she feel so sick? This had to be illegal. Why couldn’t she be happy? She’d never learn to be grateful.

She eventually forced the sickness down and cried alone in the bed, drawing the blank, pitying stares of other Box Babes. She hated having these kinds of thoughts.

Maybe, if she cried loud enough, a doctor would come with a syringe to calm her down soon.

—————————

The third time someone changed her, she simply let it happen.

“Look at you, little thing, always worried about your hair,” Tybalt said, running his fingers through it from behind. She was prettying herself up in his bathroom, the way they’d taught her, to keep her hair soft and shiny and attractive. “You must take a lot of pride in it, huh?”

She didn’t know which answer he wanted, so she took the safe route by nodding in agreement.

“Yes, sir.”

“I thought you might.”

He opened a nearby drawer and brought something out— a pair of shears that he used on his own hair. Then, he took the lock of hair that she’d just run product through.

“Hold still for me, princess.”

“Yes, sir.”

She obeyed as he sliced it clean off.

Her first reaction was horror, that she wouldn’t be pretty for her owner anymore— but, she reminded herself quickly, her owner was doing this to her. He wanted her to look like this.

So she sat, staring expressionless into the mirror as her long, fiery hair was lopped off. Tybalt made sure to chop it right next to the head, resulting in an unkempt, not-quite-buzz-cutty mess. It took less time than she expected.

She reached up to run one hand over it as a strange feeling stirred in her chest. She… she was supposed to hate it, right? That was what he wanted. She tried her best to look like she hated it.

“There you go. Less to worry about, if you ask me. Just ask for another trim if it starts getting long again, yeah?” he asked, gently brushing the hair off of her shoulders.

She nodded silently, running both hands over it this time. The movement was almost reverent. Despite everything she’d learned, she thought it looked better than the long hair. Even ugly and uneven like this.

“Hm. I thought for sure that’d make you cry. I guess I still don’t know you all that well, pet,” he said in a lighthearted tone, patting her on the head. Ah… maybe she should have cried. For him.

“Clean this mess up for me, will you?” he called on his way out.

She knew she was meant to start cleaning right away, but she just kept staring at herself in the mirror, head turning this way and that. For the first time ever, she thought to herself that she looked… nice.

The third time someone changed her, it was nice.

#whump #whumpblr #box boy #bbu #box boy universe #surgery cw #needles cw #medical whump #transphobia cw #pet whump #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #forced detransitioning cw #bthb #badthingshappenbingo #original characters #oc #rowan #rowan series

[riviae]

what if geralt catches regis looking in the mirror, tells him to close his eyes, and starts softly touching different parts of his face and describing them to him. or he has someone paint a portrait for him to look at instead ;_; im sorry your post made me sappy

It became an odd habit of sorts–checking his nonexistent reflection in the mirror–Regis realizes as he brushes off specks of dust from his jerkin. The standing-length mirror situated in the corner of his crypt had been a bit of an inside joke at first–he was already a vampire living in a cemetery, after all; what was stopping him from indulging in a few more lighthearted jokes? He already felt a secret pleasure at the garlands of garlic and collection of silver utensils he kept in his makeshift abode, so it was only in due time that he picked up an antique mirror from one of the stalls in the Beauclair marketplace, careful to keep the glass wrapped in a heavy, dark green fabric until it safely passed the threshold of his home. 

And so the mirror remained, half-hidden in a dusty corner of the mausoleum, a few stray candles on a nearby table offering only a meager flicker of light. Not that Regis needed the candles either, but candles were a very human invention and one the vampire knew made humans feel just a little bit safer. Even if his only human visitor nowadays was Geralt, a witcher who could see perfectly fine in the dark, he had grown accustomed to the warm orange glow, the way the tiny beacons of light reminded him of his time spent amongst humans, learning and growing into the person he was today. 

Just as Regis moves to adjust the cuffs of his shirt, he hears it: a familiarly slow heartbeat and with it, the faintest whiff of blood. Not Geralt’s, thankfully, but as the witcher grew closer, Regis could tell that he had recently bathed and cleaned his armor–it was his swords that carried the scent of old blood–both monster and human–a scent that could never be washed out completely. The swords had spilled so much blood despite Geralt’s best attempts at pacifism. He was a kind-hearted man by nature, but he knew when his only option was to kill. 

“Hey,” the witcher greets, an easy grin upon his face. He meets his own gaze in the mirror before his eyes dart to the vampire. “Hmm… thought you hated mirrors.” 

Regis turns away from the mirror, giving the witcher a fond look. “I hate that I have to avoid them. It’s the same with dogs, sorcerers, and telepaths–I have no hatred for them, I just dislike that I must go out of my way to avoid them.” 

“I remember us having this conversation before. Think that was the first time I saw you really smile.” 

“Is that so?” Regis begins, “Your memory is impeccable as always.” 

“Only for certain things. Certain people,” Geralt replies, giving a tired shrug of his shoulders. 

The admission, no matter how casual, sends a pleasant thrum of warmth through the vampire. For a man allegedly devoid of emotions, Geralt had quite a way of expressing them. Regis didn’t bother hiding his teeth as he smiled, lips pulling into a wide, happy grin. 

“Careful with those fangs. Someone’s bound to notice,” Geralt teases.

“The only prying eyes here are the dead so I don’t think I have much to worry about.” With a lighthearted roll of his eyes, Regis turns back to the mirror, fiddling with his cuffs yet again. 

Geralt’s voice suddenly sounds distant–but perhaps that isn’t the right word. Regis knows what grief sounds likes, the hollowness of it, the way it echoes in the emptiness of what was lost; the witcher’s voice sounds bereaved, but there’s an underlying fondness to it. It’s reminiscent; hopeful, even. “Remember when we first got to Beauclair? How everyone crowded into your room to get ready for the banquet?” 

Regis huffs out a laugh. “How could I forget? Angouleme came in brandishing a pair of garden shears and asked me to cut her hair.” 

“You even humored everyone with your floating scissors routine.” 

Regis grew silent, unable to stop the flurry of memories that Geralt’s words had conjured up. 

There was Milva begrudgingly slinking into the chair in front of the mirror to let Regis trim her bangs, expression softening as the rhythmic motions of having her hair cut lulled her into a light doze. When she stirred, she gave Regis a serious look and thanked him for his services. Whether she knew that the vampire had noticed her slipping out into the stables near the palace to cry at night, had noticed the tired bags under her eyes, and had helped her fall asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks, Regis wasn’t sure, but he did know that it wasn’t long until Milva began saving him a seat beside her during breakfast. 

There was Cahir, usually silent and pensive, who suddenly showed a polite interest in all things related to Regis’ culture as a higher vampire. It was a unique parallel that they shared, both being sojourners in lands they did not belong to. Beauclair was as close to home as Cahir had been since Ciri–and then Geralt–had spared his life despite his connections to the Nilfgaardian Empire. Perhaps he had simply been feeling homesick as he sat in front of Regis’ mirror, invisible hands carefully trimming the are of his head where an axe nearly severed his scalp from his skull. 

Even Dandelion had stopped by his room at some point, waxing poetic about the Duchess while Regis ran a brush through the musician’s long, blond curls. Their conversation drifted easily from topic to topic, spanning the arts and politics until undoubtedly returning to news about their company. Dandelion had always shown a near selfless interest in Geralt’s safety, that much was obvious to Regis, and only solidified that, despite appearances, the man was a genuinely good friend to have. 

Then, his mind drifted to Angouleme. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of Stygga–he preferred to think of happier times, of happier memories, of the lopsided grins and loud laughter that she brought every day to the breakfast table while they wintered in Beauclair. And, of course, her endearing antics, which only increased in creativity when she realized that Regis had no reflection. 

When he finally spoke aloud, his lips twist into a wistful smile. “Ah, that was quite funny, wasn’t it? That was the first time anyone–human, vampire, or otherwise–saw my lack of reflection as interesting, as something to be explored and, dare I say, something endearing about me. I enjoyed having dear Angouleme on my shoulders… even if she did kick me a few times by mistake during her theatrical performance.” Regis pauses, his hands reaching on reflex for the leather strap of his satchel that wasn’t there. Instead, his hands found purchase in the fabric of his jerkin, fingernails scraping harmlessly against the surface. “You know, I would do it all again. Even knowing what I do now, knowing how this all eventually ends, I wouldn’t trade my time with our little rag-tag group for the world.” 

“Neither would I,” Geralt affirms, reaching over to squeeze Regis’ shoulder. The vampire was acutely aware of how his touch lingered there, the warmth and weight that radiated from the man’s simple comforting gesture. 

The reflection in the mirror shows only the witcher, one hand stretched out into the dark, grasp loose and empty. 

“It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Regis says. “It’s like I’m not even here. Without a reflection, it almost looks as if you’re talking to a ghost. It was difficult after Stygga to piece my body back together. Even with Dettlaff’s help… I was, well, I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I was convinced for some time that I was truly dead. There was nothing left of me aside from my consciousness. And once I did grow strong enough to begin the arduous process of becoming flesh and blood again, I had no real memory of myself to work with. I could only build back my appearance based on how I’ve heard other people describe me, of how Dettlaff described me when I was naught but a bloody smear in a dish.” 

“Well, I think you did a good job,” Geralt replies, watching his own reflection as he–almost as if driven by instinct, some vestigial trait from the few vampire genes that were added to his mutated genome–reached up to gently cup the right side of Regis’ face. He knew exactly where Regis was, knew him well enough to reach out while his gaze remained fixed on the mirror, as if he was actually there beside him in the glass. It was only when he spoke again that he met Regis’ eyes, voice barely above a rumble. “You look a bit older, a bit more world-weary, but I recognized you immediately.” 

Regis immediately leaned into the touch. Here, in the privacy of the crypt, he allowed himself a brief respite. He had spent so long trying to hide parts of himself, to hide the parts of himself that had realized long ago that he had fallen for the witcher. But now, after all the weighty events they had lived through, Regis was tired–and this, the warm hand on his face, the feeling of a sword-callused thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the high point of his cheekbone… it threatened to undo him entirely. He knew Geralt would never so much as point his sword at him now, unable to even think about harming him despite his relative immortality–and yet, the steady, consistent thrum of affection he felt for the witcher? It sometimes felt like it was cutting him to pieces, reshaping him into something that would rather turn into a pillar of ash than never see Geralt again–but it also felt a lot like love. Adoration. A warmth in his chest at the sight of the white-haired witcher, gold eyes lidded in contentment whenever his gaze wandered over to Regis. 

“It’s really a shame you can’t see yourself,” Geralt says, hand drifting into Regis’ hair, gently combing a few dark grey locks behind his ear. “But I can help… if you’d let me.” 

Regis inhaled sharply, unable to do anything but give a shaky nod of his head, mind spinning. He feared what he might say, what tightly-held secrets he’d divulge for Geralt alone, his thoughts centering upon a simple mantra: I’m not alone in these feelings–I can’t be…

Geralt’s thumb traces the edge of the vampire’s brow almost reverently and Regis can’t help but shiver at the touch. “You’ve got dark, thick eyebrows mixed with a bit of grey and silver. It suits you. You didn’t always have as much grey in your hair as you do now… but I like it. Feels right, somehow.” 

The witcher’s hand drifts to the corner of the vampire’s left eye, index finger curled underneath a few black lashes of his bottom eyelid. “Your eyes are dark–almost as black as your eyelashes. It isn’t easy to see the separation between your iris and pupil. It makes it difficult to tell what’s going on in that head of yours sometimes, but I like that. Sometimes it’s too easy to read people. Ah, and you’ve always had a very obvious set of crow’s feet in the corner of your eyes. It just means you’ve smiled plenty. That you’ve been happy, and that even subconsciously, you were aware of the happiness you felt, that you let it show on your face after regenerating.” 

He continued, stepping away for only a moment, as if he were trying to put Regis’ entire visage to memory. As if this would be the only time he would get to see him like this again: unguarded, open, hopeful, a vulnerable side that clashed so obviously with his near immortality as a higher vampire. Geralt smiled, drawing closer yet again. “Hmm… your features all together make you look aristocratic. Like I’d see a painting of you in a castle. You’ve got an impressively crooked nose and a sharp jaw. Your cheekbones are high too and you’ve got a few wrinkles on your forehead that make you look distinguished. You’re stunning–you’ve always been stunning. ”

“Geralt…” Regis breathes, tone bordering desperation. “Please…” 

Wordlessly, Geralt closed the gap between them with a kiss, hands cupping Regis’ face. The vampire encircled his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, closing his eyes as he felt the tension in his body disappear. There was only the touch of Geralt’s lips against his own, the warmth of his hands against his cheeks, and the heart-tugging realization that he was truly home. It didn’t matter where he was, so long as Geralt was with him. Because Geralt knew him, knew all of him–the dark, the ugly, the cowardly, the parts of himself that kept him teetering on the edge of relapse–and still loved him. 

It had always been Geralt who saw him–the one person he trusted to be his mirror, to help him see the parts of himself that were worth loving. And it had made all the difference. 

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #geralt x regis #so sorry this took so long ;v; idk how but the drabble got away from me #love the idea of geralt being regis' own moral mirror so to speak #as well as just pointing out all the physical features he loves #anyway i'll probably edit this more later & upload it to ao3 when i get the chance!! hope y'all enjoy it~ #[frantically cleans out drafts]

[orangeoctopi7]

Do You Even Lift?

Hope you’re all staying healthy and physically isolating yourselves. Unfortunately, I can’t work from home so I’m still working most nights for the foreseeable future. Still, I know everybody’s stuck at home and looking for something to do, so I’m gonna try and post all the WIPs I’ve been sitting on for the past few months.

Here’s the latest chapter of the Spider Stan AU

* * *

Stan had no idea how to broach the subject of what he’d seen last night with Ford, so he asked a not-so-subtle question the next morning.

“So, uh, you had any weird dreams last night?”

Ford looked at him blankly. “No, why?”

“Uh…” Stan stammered. How was he supposed to answer that question? Remember my spider-sense that you hate so much? It went off again last night, so I snuck into your room and watched you sleep for like half and hour until I saw that weird triangle you have all over the house float out of your head.

“I, uh, thought I heard you talking in your sleep last night?”

“Really? What’d I say?”

“Pch… I dunno! You were all the way downstairs, I couldn’t understand what you were saying! Just heard some muttering through the floorboards with my, y’know, super hearin’.” Stan crossed his arms and looked away.

Ford shrugged. “No, it was a pretty normal night for me.”

“Good. That’s good.” 

Their awkward breakfast conversation was cut short by the ringing of the phone. Ford scrambled out of his chair and down the hall to where the main-floor phone was kept. Stan could easily overhear Ford’s end of the conversation from the kitchen.

“Hello, this is Stanford Pines… Ah, hello Fiddleford.” Stan couldn’t help but notice his brother sounded annoyed. “How is Emma-May? ...Mhmm… I--I’m glad to hear she’s ok. Oh, Stan and I are, surprisingly, doing very well. There have still been a few arguments but really, I think we’re getting along better than-- better than in a very long time… Look Fiddleford, I know… sigh… I know you want to spend more time with your family. You could stay over the weekend, if you want. ...Yes. I’m sure. Take your time. It--it’ll be good to have you back. ...Ok. See you Sunday night.”

Ford re-entered the kitchen with a conflicted expression on his face. “McGucket will be back on Sunday.”

“Oh. Good?” 

“Why did that sound like a question?”

“Well, ya don’t seem too excited for him to come back.”

“I-- of course I’m happy he’s coming back, he’s my friend!” Ford replied stiffly. That conflicted expression returned to his face.

“Are you mad ‘cuz he lied about his wife bein’ sick?”

“I-- you-- you don’t know that!” Ford spluttered. “But… but even if I did learn that--that your assumption was somehow correct, that doesn’t mean-- it shouldn’t be-- that’s no reason--maybe… maybe he was right.”

“Wha?”

“It--it’s been nice, just spending time together again. Would… would you agree?”

Stan swore he felt his heart leap into his throat. Don’t get your hopes up, don’t look desperate! “Y-yeah.” he choked out with a noncommittal shrug.

“Maybe Fiddleford giving the two of us some space is exactly what we needed right now. We got along better yesterday than we ever did the preceding week. The preceding twelve years, really.”

Stan grinned. “See? Lyin’ can be for the greater good sometimes.”

Ford frowned. “I still believe honesty is the best policy…” he added under his breath, “except for when it’s not.”

Stan burst out laughing. Ford looked away sheepishly.

“What, you forget I have super-hearing already? We were literally just talking about it!”

* * *

After cleaning up the kitchen, the brothers returned to the storage room where Ford kept most of his spare inventions.

“Well, you’ve already tested out the anomaly filtration goggles, the web-shooters, and the--”

“Super hero costume.” Stan finished with a roll of his eyes.

“--high durability textiles.” Ford corrected with an annoyed glare. “Do you see anything else in here you’d like to try out?

“How am I supposed to answer that? I don’t even know what any of this junk does!”

“Well, is there anything you always wanted, when you were out on the streets?”

“Money.”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose but couldn’t quite suppress the smile sneaking onto his lips. He’d walked right into that one. “Let me rephrase. Is there any kind of equipment or tool or skill that would have been helpful to you when you were saving people?”

“Huh…” Stan thought about it for a minute. One thing in particular came to mind. “Something to carry stuff with that’d still keep my hands free.”

Ford gave him a withering glare. “Some place to hold stolen goods?”

“Not all the time!” Stan defended. “Like what if when I ran into you and Mc-What’s-his-name there had been more guards and we had to make a run for it up the wall. I couldn’t carry you two and hold onto the gun I’d swiped at the same time, and I couldn’t just leave it there for some mook to pick up and start shooting at us.”

Ford looked at his brother in confusion. “Your parka has pockets, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, big, old pockets that things can fall out of very easily when you’re climbing directly up a wall. I tried sewing zippers on them once, but zippers are tricky. I almost ruined this coat, and the left pocket still won’t lay right. I tried usin’ a backpack a while ago, but it got stolen, and it was throwin’ me off balance when I climbed anyway.”

“Hmm… Ok. So it would have to be compact enough that it wouldn’t swing about while you climb.” Ford pulled out his Journal and began to sketch something. 

“And y’know what? That reminds me of something else that’d be nice to have. Some sorta handle for people to hold onto or like, I dunno, a baby sling or something. ‘Cuz I’ve had to carry a lot of people to safety, and it’s way harder to climb a shear wall when you’re also tryin’ to carry even a little kid, let alone a grown man! This one time I saved a lady from a mugging by climbing up an office tower, and she nearly strangled me, she wrapped her arms around my neck so tight.”

“I think I’ve got an idea!” Ford flipped around his book to show Stan his drawing. “A belt, with different compartments to hold different supplies in. We could even incorporate a holster for any wayward guns. And of course, people could hold onto it--”

“I don’t want people pullin’ my pants down, genius.”

“Oh, right, of course. Then perhaps more of a harness? Hmm… yes, that could allow for more compartments.”

Stan looked at the sketch. “A utility belt? I’m not freakin’ Captain Nightshade!”

“A tool belt is a piece of equipment that people have been using since our ancestors first started fashinoing clothing out of animal skins.”

“That’s not what I’m complainin’ about. I told you, I’m not playin’ at bein’ a hero, Ford!”

“I never said you had to!”

“Then why’ve you got a logo drawn on it?”

Ford looked down at the little spider silhouette he had drawn on the belt buckle. “It’s just artistic license.” He folded his arms, as though that settled it. “Anyway, I had an idea for another test we can run. Grab the web-shooters.”

“Uh, I dunno if I’m ready for more trapeze stunts.” Stan scratched the back of his neck apprehensively.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be on the ground this time. I want to see how much weight this stuff can take.”

* * *

Ford led Stan out into the woods, not far from the house, where a large pile of squashed scrap metal lay rusting under piles of discarded pine needles. It looked like something that would come out of a trash compactor in a big junk yard, not something you would find in the middle of the forest.

“What is this?”

“This is what’s left of my old car. You remember Steve from yesterday?

“Ah.” That explained it.

Ford powered up the leaf blower he’d packed out and blew away the pine needles, revealing his squashed car. “Now, the idea is to attach a line to the frame of the car, loop over one of the thicker branches up there as a pulley, and see if you can pull the car up off the ground. It’ll test the limits of both your strength, and the strength of the web material.”

He picked up one of the web-shooters and tried to aim it up and over the thick branch he’d been thinking of. The line just sailed up over the branch and stuck to another tree a few feet away.

“Lemme see that, Sixer.” Stan took the web-shooter from his brother and strapped it around his wrist before climbing up the tree to the branch in question. He fired a line down on the car and then jumped back down to the ground, letting more webbing out slowly to lower himself.

“Oh. Thank you, Stan. I’ll just stand over here where there’s no danger of being crushed.” Ford retreated a couple of yards.

Once Stan had good footing, he grunted and started pulling at the line like it was a rope. It was hard, at first. The web line was thin and hard to get a grasp on, despite how sticky it was. But once Stan got a good grip and found a comfortable way to pull, he felt the car begin to give. With another strong tug, it lifted a few inches off the ground. Stan grinned as he heard his brother start laughing triumphantly.

“Yes! Yes, it’s holding! It’s perfect! How much of a strain is this on you?”

“Heh, just like liftin’ weights back in high school!”

“Wonderful!” Ford began scribbling in his Journal again. “Oh, weights! We need more weight.”

Stan released the line and the car crashed back to the ground. “You tellin’ me you nerds have a weight set hidden in that cabin?”

Ford laughed again. “No, but one Liter of water weighs about a kilogram. We can just fill up water jugs and put them in the car.”

“Kilo-what?”

“No, Stan, kilowatts measure electrical current!” Ford joked with a cheesy grin.

Stan punched his brother playfully in the arm. Ford winced and rubbed the spot, but he smiled back nonetheless. It was like they were teenagers again, working together on whatever experiments they could come up with. 

They ran back and forth between the crushed car and the garden hose, filling up jug after jug with water. Each time they added another jug, Stan lifted it again. When they got to ten jugs, no more would fit inside the flattened vehicle without them falling out, but Stan could still lift it without much trouble. Ford got the bright idea to use the web fluid to stick more jugs to the car. They finally had to stop at 105kg, not because Stan could no longer lift it, or because the line had broken, but because they were out of water containers.

“Pfew!” Stan wiped his brow as he finished the last lift. “How much did that last load weigh in normal weight?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Pounds can hardly be considered normal weight when the United States is the only country that still uses them widely.”

“Fine, how much did I lift in abnormal weight?”

“Over 230 pounds of water, plus the weight of the car… I’d estimate around 1300 pounds! That’s over 300 pounds more than the current world record!”

“Haha! Yes! Eat it, world record guys! Pines! Pines! Pines!”

Ford chuckled and joined in the chant as they walked back home.

* * *

Things were going great. He and Stanford were finally getting along like brothers again! Which was why Stan was terrified to ask Ford about the triangle thing. Stan had a strong suspicion he wasn’t going to like the answer, and what if it led to yet another fight? Just because things were going better between the two of them now didn’t mean the situation wasn’t still delicate.

But he couldn’t just ignore it! His spider-sense had never steered him wrong before, and had in fact saved his life more times than he could count. If it was telling him something bad was happening to Ford, then he had to get to the bottom of it!

He was climbing the stairs up to the attic to go to bed that Friday when he finally worked up the courage to ask his brother a simple question.

“Hey Ford, could… could you tell me more about this thing?” He pointed down at the rug on the landing that had caught his attention his first night in the cabin.

Ford certainly looked caught off-guard by the question. “I thought you said it was creepy.” he finally replied icily.

“Well, yeah, but, you know me. I like creepy stuff.”

To Stan’s relief, this seemed to be the right answer, because now Ford was smiling like a proud mother hen and motioning Stan back down the stairs and into the library. 

“This mysterious figure can be found throughout history! It seems to be the inspiration behind many great civilizations and secret societies.” Ford narrated as he pulled out a large file filled with depictions of the one-eyed triangle. “More specifically, it inspires one brilliant mind a generation to lead their civilization, their society, into a new era of enlightenment!”

“Ok, but what does it want?”

“What?” Ford responded in confusion. “I--I just told you, it wants to enlighten civilizations.”

“Yeah, sure, but what does the triangle guy get out of it? Does he wanna be worshiped? Does he get a cut of the profits?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Not everything is about money, Stanley!”

“I know, I know, I was just jokin’ about the profits thing.” But he wasn’t joking about the worship thing. “But no one does anything for free! What’s this thing’s angle?” 

Stanford just stared at his brother in disbelief. “You really have no concept of a selfless act, do you?”

“If this thing was selfless, it wouldn’t go plasterin’ its face, or symbol, or whatever it is all over!”

“You can’t assume he has any ulterior motives by just projecting human behavior onto a supernatural being!”

“And why are you so sure it’s some friendly ‘enlightenment’ giver?”

“Because I--” Ford’s expression suddenly went blank and his eyes drifted to some point behind his brother. 

Stan turned around and saw nothing, but he did notice that same twinging spider-sense again. He suspected if he’d been wearing those special goggles right now, he’d see that same sickly yellow aura around his brother.

“Ford? You ok?” Stan asked. No response. “Stanford, snap out of it!” He went to snap his fingers in front of his brother’s face, but a six-fingered hand shot up and grabbed his own instead.

“Just a second.” Ford shushed him with a far-away, dreamy voice.

“Seriously, you’re freakin’ me out.”

“Shhsh!”

After a few more seconds, Ford gave a small nod before focusing back on his brother.

“Sorry about that, Stan. I… uh… I zoned out for a moment there.” He laughed weakly. “I think we both need to go to bed.”

Stan snorted as he watched his brother rush down the hall to his own bedroom. Stanford did have a tendency to zone out from time to time, but that was usually while he was caught up reading or studying or just staring into space, not right in the middle of an argument. And when Ford was zoning out, he wasn’t paying attention to anyone, so he certainly never had to shush anyone. It was almost like Ford had been trying to listen to something. But Stan had super-hearing, and he hadn’t heard a thing. 

Unless… Stan remembered the triangle floating out of Ford’s head a few nights ago… Unless it was something Ford could only hear in his mind.

* * *

As Ford had hoped, he found himself in his mindscape almost as soon as he fell asleep, his muse floating before him. Which was good, because he really needed a word with Bill now.

“You disappear for four nights, only to show up while I’m awake again! And in the middle of a conversation, no less!” He made his annoyance clear.

“WELL EXCUSE ME, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED SOME QUALITY TIME WITH YOUR BROTHER!”

“I do, but that doesn’t have to exclude your night visions, does it? And that doesn’t excuse jumping into the middle of our conversation just to stop me from telling Stan about you!

“I WAS JUST LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, SIXER! YOU WERE ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING YOU’D REGRET LATER.”

Ford sighed. “You’re right, as always. Thank you. Letting slip that I have a literal muse in the middle of an argument certainly isn’t how I want him to find out. I need to find the right time to tell him.”

“I WOULDN’T RECOMMEND IT.” 

“Please, Bill, I know Stanley can be a valuable asset in building the portal! We’ve been testing his strength, he can lift upwards of a thousand pounds! Immagine what he can do to help with salvaging parts from the alien ship or placing the superstructure frame!”

“LOOK, SIXER, IF YOU TELL YOUR BROTHER YOU’RE GETTING YOUR IDEAS FROM ME, AN OTHERWORLDLY MUSE WHO ONLY CHOSES ONE GREAT MIND A CENTURY, ONE OF TWO THINGS’LL HAPPEN. EITHER HE’LL THINK YOU’RE A NUT-JOB, OR HE’LL GET JEALOUS THAT YOU WERE CHOSEN INSTEAD OF HIM. AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO REMIND YOU WHAT A JEALOUS STANLEY IS CAPABLE OF.”

“... He says it was an accident.”

“WE BOTH KNOW YOU DON’T REALLY BELIEVE THAT. AND EVEN IF IT WAS TRUE, DID THAT SAVE YOUR SPIDERS?”

“... No.”

“THEN WE’RE AGREED! YOU’LL KEEP STANLEY IN THE DARK. ALTHOUGH, I GUESS WE COULD STILL USE HIM TO HELP BUILD THE PORTAL. THAT SUPER-STRENGTH SURE WILL COME IN HANDY!”

“Well, if you didn’t want Stan finding out, you shouldn’t have interrupted me earlier. Now he’s bound to be suspicious.”

“AW, I’M NOT WORRIED. A GENIUS LIKE YOU WILL FIGURE IT OUT, NO PROBLEM!”

Ford smiled. “Thanks, Bill, your confidence in me really does make me feel better.”

* * *

Stan wasn’t completely surprised when his spider-sense went off again just an hour after he’d gone to bed. It was the smallest period of time between warnings yet, but Stan was finally getting an idea of what this weird twinging spider-sense was trying to warn him of, so the frequency didn’t bother him. If it really was the triangle guy, then it made sense that he’d come back after whatever had happened to Ford earlier.

Now, what to do about it? Obviously, waking Ford in the middle of whatever was going on just made him mad. Was there a way to communicate with it? Catch it? 

Stan had a dream catcher hanging from his rearview mirror in his car. He didn’t remember where he’d gotten it. He’d probably bought it to cover for all the actual valuables he’d stolen from some gas station or gift shop somewhere. He knew it probably wouldn’t work. It was just some mass-produced trinket, not a genuine article crafted by a Native American who knew what they were doing. But for the time being, Stan didn’t have any other options. It was worth a shot.

After grabbing the dream catcher, the web shooter, and the anomaly goggles, Stan crept into Ford’s room and dangled the cheap trinket over Ford’s head with a line of webbing. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long this time. After just five minutes, Stan saw the triangle float out of his brother’s head again. He was honestly surprised when the thing stopped half-way through the web. It started to struggle, like it was stuck. Just as Stan was about to reach out and grab it, the triangle guy just rose out of the dream catcher like it wasn’t even there. It stared directly at Stan. Despite the fact that it didn’t speak, and only had one eye for a face, it’s expression clearly read “Haha, just kidding. You actually thought that would work? Idiot.”

“W-wait, I just wanna talk!” Stan whispered as quietly as he could. Thankfully, Ford didn’t wake.

The triangle guy looked at Stan intently. And then disappeared.

Stan huffed in frustration and carefully cleared away all evidence that he’d been in his brother’s room that night. Well, that hadn’t worked. But he wasn’t going to give up yet.

* * * 

JWZ CFAY PLVST EIQD, SCM? PPTQ, FLGGX T ENEW IWKLVLX QWW T WQYMWM HALB. N’EW PFOP BT VLTQ BY I KXH XFPYA KBCAY.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #SpiderStan AU #This jerk #Spider Stan AU #My Writing

[thepartyresponsible]

i’ve never written a soul bond au before. so, naturally, when i did, i somehow made it as angsty as possible.

here’s a fic about clint barton accidentally soul bonding with a recently recovered bucky barnes. i’m very sorry, and someday, when i have time, i’ll write a happier ending for them.

It’s an accident. Neither one of them would’ve chosen this, if choice had anything to do with it. But broken brains bond easy, the mind’s deadbolts sheared off by trauma, and Clint Barton takes one look at the Winter Soldier and feels the bond snap into place between them.

It feels like a hook catching in the meat of his heart. Like a hand closing around his throat.

Like a bear trap. Like a guillotine. Like cancer.

  It’s for the best, Clint tells himself. He tells himself that over and over, tries to wear down the instinctive horror, the selfish rage. Bucky Barnes is in a tailspin. His mind is eating itself. Without Clint’s thoughts to bolster him, without his awareness to steady him, he would lose his fucking mind. And God knows what that would look like. God knows how many people would end up dead.

What HYDRA did to Barnes is every kind of illegal, but it was HYDRA, so Clint doesn’t know why people seem so shocked.

“They bonded him to every handler,” he says, in debrief. Across the table, Steve looks like he’s going to throw up, which has to be a hell of an experience for a man who hasn’t been ill since the 1940’s. “They defrosted him, drugged him, and synced him. When the mission was over, they broke the bond.”

“Every time?” Hill asks. Her voice is even and professional. Her hands are steady as she types. But she’s pale.

Clint reaches into the whirling storm of Barnes’ thoughts. It’s easy to do, because he’s split wide open. Well, it would’ve been inconvenient for HYDRA, owning a puppet that could keep secrets.

Every time? he asks, because it’s polite. Because no one’s asked Barnes a Goddamn question in decades. They just reached into his mind and took whatever they wanted.

Barnes’ brain chases itself, a snake swallowing its own tail. Misery eating misery eating misery. He doesn’t think so much in complete sentences, just spills the answer out between them in flashes of memories Clint really doesn’t want to see.

Not that it’s his choice. He’ll see anything Barnes wants him to. He’ll see anything Barnes doesn’t want him to. The both them, they’re just open wounds.

Clint blinks his eyes open, takes a breath. “Sometimes he’d keep the same handler for a couple missions in a row,” he says. “They didn’t break it then. Just stored him until they needed him again.”

And that is its own kind of horror. Body stuck in cryo, mind walking. Coffin dreaming of the other half of his soul, starving for every scrap of information his handlers tossed his way.

Hill sets her tablet down. She considers Clint from across the table. “You can communicate with him at this distance?”

Clint laughs. He shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. “I can feel him breathing at this distance.”

Hill’s face is unreadable. That’s never a good sign.

Across the table, Natasha unwinds. Her gaze on him feels like a knock on a door that Clint can’t ever open again. “Should we break it?” she asks.

Steve’s hands curl into fists. Tony chews on his lip, shuts his eyes. It must sound horrible to the two of them. It must sound unimaginably cruel.

Clint bonded with Natasha the first time he saw her, right through the scope of his rifle. They were together for a decade, living in each other’s heads, trading intel and jokes and strength and secrets. She was with him, no matter what, no matter where, no matter how high the cost. She was his, forever, and he was hers, and then Loki broke into the heart of him and ripped and ripped until he pulled her out like a loose tooth.

You break a bond once, and it can’t ever be fixed. That’s why manufacturing the drugs that break bonds is an automatic life sentence in half the world and a death sentence everywhere that has one.

Loki broke their bond like it was a party trick, left Clint screaming into a line that went nowhere, thoughts spinning in a space too small for them. Right up until he slashed in deeper and stole Clint’s brain for himself.

“Don’t,” Steve says, and then nothing after that. He ducks his head.

To him, it must sound like torture. But what would he know about it? What he and Tony have is fraught, but it’s never once hurt them.

Loki unmade Clint like he was pulling the stuffing out of a doll. It was vivisection without anesthetic. He felt every inch of his inner-self pulled out, cast aside, trash down a drain. It hurt like nothing’s ever hurt in Clint’s life, before or since. Hurt more than Natasha being torn out of him, hurt more than the aching, nauseating wrongness of being alone.

But Clint doesn’t know how to say that to Steve Rogers. He doesn’t know how to communicate the terror of it, that dizzying, suffocating, animal fear of someone you can’t trust and don’t love in your head.

If you haven’t felt it, you can’t understand it. But Clint knows how it feels. Stuck in a trap, someone else in every thought, like a jailer living under your skin. Breath on the back of your neck, forever. Someone else’s fingerprints on everything you touch.

He would’ve lobotomized himself to get free. He would’ve cut and kept cutting until his brain broke free or just broke apart.

But.

He isn’t Loki. And what he’s doing to Barnes, it wasn’t his choice. It wasn’t deliberate or malicious, and he isn’t hurting him on purpose. It’s not enough, and he knows it, but he tells himself that the distinction matters. Like intention is any kind of absolution. Like, in the end, he’s somehow better than Loki because at least he didn’t mean to.

“He’s not stable enough,” Clint says. “We break the bond, and he’ll sync with someone else.”

There’s a long silence where no one says anything, and then Natasha leans forward. “This way,” she says, “we can control it.”

Their bond’s been broken for years now, and she’s still stepping in to say all the horrible shit he can’t.

“Control it,” Steve says, suddenly looking up, eyes narrowing. “I think he’s had enough of being controlled.”

“Sometimes, Captain,” Natasha says, tone mild as milk, jaw tight enough to make a garrote nervous, “a little control is helpful. His mind is wide open. Would you like a list of all the people we don’t want whispering into the Winter Soldier’s brain?”

“His name is James Barnes,” Steve says. “And he can make his own decisions. We should ask him what he wants.”

Clint doesn’t drop his head into his hands. None of this is Steve’s fault.

He tries to think of how Natasha must have felt when Clint came stumbling back from Loki. But it was different for her. Clint didn’t surface and immediately bond with someone else. The last time Steve saw Bucky, they’d been linked since childhood, the kind of bond that’s meant to last a lifetime. HYDRA broke it before they even finished amputating Bucky’s arm.

“He wants what I want,” Clint says. He tries to keep his voice even. “Steve. He isn’t—this isn’t the person you knew. They hollowed him out.”

Clint can feel echoes of every handler the Winter Soldier ever had. It’s like staring through a pane of glass smudged with dozens of fingerprints. If he squints, if he tries, he can find pieces of Bucky Barnes left. But everything is surface-level, vague emotions and vestigial quirks and brainstem-level habits. There aren’t enough scraps left to sew together anything meaningful.

What Bucky wants, more than anything, is to be and do exactly what Clint wants. They hacked into Barnes’ mind so many times that they ripped the fucking doors off. He doesn’t even know how to be his own person anymore.

Clint remembers what that’s like.

He remembers, also, that he got better. All by himself, alone in his head.

God, he would’ve given anything to have Natasha with him then. Anything. His soul, his hands, his eyes. He would’ve given up the world to have Nat back. To have someone to wrench him out of his nightmares, push back the memories, put air back in his lungs.

It’s not the same. He isn’t Nat for Barnes. He isn’t anybody.

Well, he’s not a HYDRA agent. He’s not a trickster god. He’s not a bored sadist with access to a defenseless mind that he can wipe clean after he makes too much of a mess of it.

He tells himself he’s better than nothing, but the reality is that it doesn’t matter. They can’t afford to leave the Winter Soldier in the privacy of his own head. It took Clint three months of quarantine and practice before he could ward off bonds, and Loki only had him for a handful of days. It’s not clear that Barnes will ever have the capacity to rebuild his defenses to the point of self-reliance.

It’s an accident. It’s no one’s fault. Clint didn’t choose to do this.

I’m sorry, Clint says. No one’s said that to Barnes for decades, either. Although, judging from the memories fluttering through Barnes’ brain like ash after a wildfire, the Winter Soldier found reason to say it plenty.

You’re going to get better, Clint says, to the remnants of Barnes’ mind. It’s like he’s talking to the aftereffects of a firing squad, like all of who Bucky Barnes used to be is just blood splattered on a wall, a cooling body on the ground.

I’m going to help you, Clint thinks, as hard as he can. His own walls aren’t strong. Like the Maginot Line, they only work one way. Barnes is in, so he’s in. There’s no pushing him out.

Something stirs in Barnes’ head, hooking into Maginot Line. Clint gets a flash of a uniform, three chevrons, a mouth forming words in the dark: name, rank, serial number. He gets blood and fear and a question, a desperate focusing, a sieve trying to hold against its nature, trying keep something in.

War, Barnes thinks. It’s the first word he’s formed, the most cohesive thought he’s had so far. He’s slipping, scrambling, trying to hold. There was a war.

The war’s over, Clint thinks. He tries to hold images of peace in his head: Tony bitching about coffee grounds in the kitchen sink, and Steve at a baseball game swearing at the Giants, and Natasha in borrowed sweatpants, reading Steve’s newspaper. Lazy mornings and daytime TV and knuckles clean and unbruised, unbloodied. His bow in its case, and his mind all his own.

It’s too much for Barnes. He shatters apart. That whisper of a mind is gone, and there’s just static humming Ready to comply.

“We’re keeping the bond,” Clint says. He’s not looking at anybody. His eyes are unfocused; he’s chasing Barnes in his head. “I can help him.”

And then maybe, afterwards, Barnes can forgive him.

#writing #fic #winterhawk

[gretchensinister]

Burgess Wilderness Recreation Area 17/?

And so continues the story I began for the Black as Pitch Halloween event. It’s the kind of story I’m sure you know well. Five college kids, a cabin, and a state park that just doesn’t get many visitors any more… (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16)

Tooth bolted down the road, some part of her still guilty that she was running, guilty that she wasn’t crying or screaming as she ran. But what was the point of guilt right now? She didn’t need to display any particular emotion now; she just needed to run. To get away, to not twist her ankle, she knew how this kind of story went, and she didn’t want to play out the same old expected thing. She was going to live, she was going to live, she just needed to run a little farther, to get out get out get out.

Soon, though, she reached the point when she felt she was really beginning to understand how much all the running she was going to have to do was going to hurt. Oh well, oh well. She had oodles of will power; she wouldn’t have gotten to college without it. As long as she had her mind, she’d run as long as she had legs.

She rounded the last bend, and came upon another fallen tree. Now, she did scream. Then she noticed movement, and screamed again, and then she noticed that the movement was most definitely not the monster. The two park rangers from yesterday—yesterday?—were standing in front of the downed tree. Well, not standing. They were jogging toward her, and they were holding some…weapons! They could help! They could kill that thing and maybe save Sandy or no maybe not or at least take revenge for him. But wait, no, that didn’t make sense. Why would they be here with weapons? Why would they be here at all?

“Miss! Miss! Are you all right?” the man asked.

What could she say to that?

“No!” she cried. Keep it simple, keep it simple, but now they could try to save Sandy, right? She just needed to sound normal, somehow. “Help,” she said. “I need help, my friend needs help, you need to come with me, if we run, maybe, maybe…”

Oh. So now she would start to cry. And now there was no stopping. Big, panicky sobs interrupted and distorted all her words.

“Come here, come here,” the woman said, holding her arms out and herding her towards the tree.

“No, no, I don’t want to leave!” Tooth managed to say. “I don’t want to leave Sandy!”

“There were three other people,” the woman said. “Are they in danger?”

A sudden coldness came over Tooth, allowing her to stop crying almost at once. “They’re not in danger,” she said. “They’re dead.”

“Oh! Oh, um, fuck,” Katherine said. “Right.” Questions filled her mind. How had they died? Where were they? When had this happened? But none of that mattered right now, because the answer to “when” might be “minutes ago” and they didn’t have time to waste on questions that could be answered later. If this was some sort of practical joke, she’d deal with college students laughing at her.

But she really didn’t think that this was any kind of a joke.

“Show us where we need to go,” Katherine said.

“Just back down the road,” the girl said. “If he’s not—if he’s not on the road anymore, then—then…” She wrapped her arms around herself and started shaking. “I don’t want to go back there. But, but, I can’t stay alone. All right, all right…let’s go.”

“We’ve got ways to defend ourselves,” Luc said. He held up a pair of gardening shears.

This didn’t appear to inspire any confidence or hope in the girl.

“Come on,” Katherine said. “We’ve got to act quickly, right?”

 ***

 “No,” the girl said, upon reaching a not particularly noteworthy section of trail. “No. He’s not here.” She hunched forward. “We have to get out of here. I’m the only one left and…and the longer we stay, the more likely we are to die, too.”

“Hey, um…what’s your name?” Luc asked.

“Riti, but my friends called me Tooth,” she said.

“Okay,” Luc said. “I’ll call you Riti until we know each other better, okay?”

She nodded.

“Okay. You understand that we have a lot of questions now, right, Riti? Do you promise that you’ll answer them once we’re away from here?”

Tooth nodded again. “But we need to go, now. I think…I think we have a little time, but not much.”

Luc and Katherine looked at each other. Movies were all they had to go on, and they knew that it could be fatal, standing around and asking questions in very strange circumstances. Which was kind of an awful message, come to think of it, Katherine thought. But when there was only time to act, then, well, you really did have to act.

“I think Mary’s Market would be far enough away for us to talk, based on the newspaper articles we found,” Katherine said.

“Can you tell us what’s going on when we get there?” Luc asked Tooth.

“Yeah. I’ll try,” she said.

“Then let’s get out of here,” said Luc. “This is too much for just us.”

But who was it not too much for? Katherine wondered as they headed back towards the truck.

 ***

 When Sandy awoke, he was in the middle of a quiet clearing full of early spring wildflowers. The sun was warm on his face, the sky a clear, peaceful blue. He had a moment of profound relief, the thought, so the fundies were wrong after all, and then the unpleasant rush of recollection as to why he expected to be dead.

Upon looking at the familiar imperfect trees around the clearing, he decided his expectation had not been fulfilled. But…but why? Sudden hope made him gasp. Maybe the monster hadn’t killed Jackie and Nick and Bunny. Maybe they were around here, somewhere, stored for later or something. True, they’d probably be injured, considering how they’d been dragged off, but still! Even to see them for a short while!

Sandy made a lost little sound. He was thirsty, and tired, and he wanted his friends, and he wanted none of this to be happening. He slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, as if being vertical would help somehow.

When he sat up, he found the monster staring at him.

He swore, but didn’t try to get up to run. So, the monster wanted to stare at him? Well, let it. He was still scared, of course he was, but he no longer felt like he had enough hormones in his body for a strong chemical fear reaction.

The monster crept forward in the tall grass. Sandy grimaced, but still didn’t move. He would face this. And he could observe, too, that the creature did move well on all fours. Or—wait. The creature was holding one of its arms up away from the ground. Sandy didn’t want to meet anything that could hurt a monster like this, but then, accidents could happen even to monsters, couldn’t they? Would having one limb not at full strength give Sandy any kind of advantage? Well, honestly, probably not. This monster was really good at hunting people, while Sandy had no experience escaping large predators. But an injury to the monster could only put him less into the negatives of advantage.

At this point, he’d take whatever he could get.

The monster finally pushed through the grass where Sandy was sitting and Sandy realized that what he was getting was not what he had expected.

The monster hadn’t been moving the way it had because its leg was injured. It had been moving the way it was because it was carrying something. A can of beer, in fact.

Sandy felt like he’d slid sideways into a world that bore not even the least passing resemblance to anything he’d ever known as real life. There was room in real life for monsters in the woods! What did he know about woods, anyway? There could be anything in there. But there was no room in real life for a killer monster deciding not to kill him, and, instead, offering him a beer.

“It is a drink for you,” the monster said. “It is the kind of thing you like to drink.”

Sandy couldn’t form a response. None. Absolutely zilch. Nada. His mind supplied nothing but the countless scenes in books and movies where a person offered candy to some freaky thing to try to forge a friendship. If only he was facing something that could be pacified by Reese’s Pieces!

Surely he’d packed some sort of candy in his pack—oh, but he wouldn’t have it anymore, would he?

Except that he did. Some small fragment of his perceptions was free enough to tell him that one of his backpack straps still tugged on his arm. He instinctively tried to hide his surprise, to not let the monster know that it had forgotten to take this advantage from him, but realized an instant later that this was ridiculous. Why would the monster have bothered? There was definitely nothing in Sandy’s backpack that could hurt it. It didn’t need to make any power plays with him like a human kidnapper might. It had nothing to prove to him.

How marvelously alien it was!

And it was still holding out a beer for him.

This increasingly undeniable circumstance increasingly demanded a response. Sandy hadn’t got much of a handle on it, yet, but he figured he might as well have a drink, if things were going to be this weird.

Carefully, so as not to touch the monster’s fingers—he was on the edge of a freakout already, he didn’t want to do anything that might push him over the edge—he took the can. The monster withdrew its hand and sat back, still watching him. Sandy didn’t feel capable of staring down the monster anymore, so he looked at the beer can, instead. It was a regional brand, both beloved and sort of hated, not great, but supposedly better than the megabrands. It was the kind of beer that he and Nick had stocked up on for the camping trip.

A wave of dizziness washed over Sandy as he pictured the monster picking its way through the cabin, the clothes they’d left behind, their unmade beds, their dishes, the food they’d brought, every other little ordinary thing, every little human thing, that that cabin represented: it had gotten into the cabin after all!

Had they left it unlocked? Sandy couldn’t remember. But whether it had broken the lock or not, the horror of it was that the cabin hadn’t deterred the creature at all. The cabin was just another space to it. No mythic embodiment of the woods, then, thought Sandy. This thing, whatever it was, was only itself. It didn’t play by any rules that humans understood.

A little hysterical giddiness joined some of Sandy’s horror. The monster was so, so real. There was no rubber mask to pull off.

As if to confirm this, the wind shifted so that Sandy was now downwind of the monster. A very faint, woody, musky scent blew towards him as the monster’s fur ruffled. It wasn’t unpleasant, and hardly noticeable in the woods, really—Sandy probably wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been sitting right in front of the monster. No skunk ape here. That made sense. It wouldn’t benefit a monster that hunted humans to be easy for humans to detect.

“Drink,” the monster said. It wasn’t exactly a command. If it had any tone at all, it was puzzled. It had offered him a drink and he had taken it, so why didn’t he drink? An animal wouldn’t have hesitated. But then, the monster knew he wasn’t just any animal, otherwise it wouldn’t have offered him a beer.

That raised the question of how much the monster did know. It had spoken to him in English, after all. Or at least he had heard English when it spoke. Would it understand him when he spoke? Again, Sandy felt his fear ebbing away in curiosity. He felt like he’d crossed some sort of line, beyond which all ordinary ways of thinking had to fall away. Or maybe he was just dissociating. Regardless, he wasn’t reacting like someone about to be torn limb from limb. He couldn’t even muster up any fear at how he was taking so long to obey the monster’s command.

But that was another one of the surreal things about this situation. He wasn’t afraid that this monster would get angry at him. Sandy felt that this monster didn’t take things like that personally. Probably there hadn’t been anything personal behind even the killing his friends.

That would be…no, no, Sandy didn’t want to think about that right now. He didn’t want to think about much of anything, in fact.

He popped open the can and took a drink. It tasted good, and he was suddenly annoyed at his body’s interest in staying alive. By rights, he should already be dead.

The monster’s expression didn’t change much, but it relaxed even further as Sandy took another sip.

#blackaspitch #toothiana #katherine #nightlight #Pitch Black #sanderson mansnoozie #now you've read my favorite scene so far #rise of the guardians #rotg #fic

[narniasummerexchange]

for @sheisthehighqueen

It was a surprisingly nice Friday for the rain season known as spring. The Pevensie girls were happy trading stories and chatting as they carried the grocery bags to the boys’ flat. It being Friday meant family dinner, so the girls were eager to start cooking. Lucy was running through a list of things she wanted to try out.

“And I found this recipe of a chocolate cake. It said that it would only take half an hour to make. You think we could try it?” Lucy looked at her sister hopefully.

“Lu, you know so much sugar isn’t healthy. Didn’t you mention an odd salad a while ago? Why don’t we try that?” Susan reprimanded. They had already reached the steps to the house.

“But, Sue! It’s Chocolate. Cake.” Lucy wheedled.

Susan just rolled her eyes and was about to knock on the door when it was opened by an aging woman with square glasses and a sharp face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Maccready.” Susan greeted politely as Lucy hugged their landlady a hello. Mrs. Maccready stiffened up a bit before sinking slightly into the embrace. Even after a few years of receiving them the stern lady wasn’t used to Lucy’s hugs.

“Afternoon, girls.” Was her brisk reply as she ushered them inside.

“How are the boys?” Lucy inquired.

“See for yourselves. I refuse to go up to that mad house.”

As soon as the girls opened the door they understood the landlady’s words. The flat, shared by Peter, Edmund, and Eustace, was trashed. It seemed as though both students had dug up any and all assignments and tried to study from all of the textbooks at once. While an unfortunate poet added his failed works to the mix of things. In the midst of this mess sat Edmund, scribbling some gibberish on a scrap of paper. He kept nodding off only to jerk awake in a fury of scribbles and then to nod off again. Eustace was in the kitchen attempting to make coffee with black tea and a random energy instead of water.

“Don’t! You’ll ruin the coffee maker.” Susan swooped in snatching the contortion out of his hands before he poured it into the machine. “If you’re going to add that poison add it to the finished product.”

While Lucy walked over to Edmund and plucked the pen out of his hand. She pulled her half-asleep brother from his desk.

“Edmund you need sleep.” Lucy stated authoritatively. With that they disappeared down the hall, Lucy dragging her brother like a child.

Susan didn’t want to crowd the narrow hall to Edmund’s and Eustace’s room. Besides they had bunk beds and neither of the girls were strong enough to lift a teenaged boy. She deposited Eustace on the couch. Where he, thankfully, stayed. Already falling asleep.

Turning to the mess of the kitchen Susan noticed how many used teabags had never made it to the trashcan. There was an occasional essay lying around. Dirty dishes in the sink. Hastily prepared and eaten “quick meals” left cans and boxes on the counter.

Susan was about to start cleaning when she heard Lucy from the hall.

“Sue! A little help over here?”

Susan hurried to the hall. It seemed that Edmund was a little bit more awake and was trying to get back to his work. Now, Lucy was a strong girl. However Edmund was cumbersome, drowsy, and, while lean, a healthy boy of 21. He was winning due to shear size. The sisters grabbed his arms and torso and forcibly dragged him to the end of the hall. By the time they reached the bed/study room Edmund had stopped fighting back. They dragged him over to the lower bunk and dropped him on the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light.

Going back to the living room and kitchen the girls decided to split the work. Susan was cleaning the living room. Lucy the kitchen.

“How did they manage to make this much of a mess in one week?” Lucy marveled in disgust.

“Stress eating, nervousness, anxiety over tests.” Susan listed.

Within 30 minutes the place was clean, with the exception of the sleeping boy on the couch, and the sisters set to preparing the meal. Not long after starting they heard the door to the flat open and in came Peter. Susan left the kitchen.

“Peter how could you let them run themselves into the ground like that?” The scolding had begun.

Lucy watched from the kitchen as her older brother bowed his head in shame as her sister continued scolding him for not paying attention to the boys. It was actually rather comical. Soon enough she could no longer suppress her giggles. Both Susan and Peter stared at the girl in confusion which only seemed to fuel her laughter. After a while Peter chuckled.

“Come on, Sue. You have to admit when you’re scolding me it does look kind-of ridiculous.”

“Well someone has to knock some sense into you.” Susan said over exaggerating a huff and folding her arms over her chest, causing Peter to actually laugh and Lucy to almost start rolling around on the floor. A second later Susan was laughing as well.

After that everyone went about their business. The girls got the meal ready and Peter cleaned up in the bedrooms.

Soon there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Lucy called from the kitchen.

A dark haired man entered with flowers in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. Susan walked over to greet her boyfriend.

“Hi, Caspian.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and took the offered bouquet. “You know you don’t really need to buy me flowers.”

“Try and stop me.” He teased. They walked to the kitchen and he set down the bag. “Hey, Lucy. I got you that chocolate you wanted.”

Susan looked over at Lucy accusingly. She grinned back with feign innocence. At that Susan just rolled her eyes.

A few minutes later there was another knock on the door. This time Peter hurried to open it, hugging the breath out of the girl about to enter. She laughed lightly and hugged him back pecking his cheek.

“Hey, Wendy.” Susan waved from the chair by the fire, where she and Caspian were talking softly. Wendy waved back with a smile.

Right as the door was about to close another girl flew up the stairs and pushed her way inside.

“Jill!” Lucy cheered.

At the loud noise the boy on the couch sprang up. Everyone chuckled as Eustace tried to make sense of his surroundings. After noticing Jill he colored slightly and mumbled something about waking Edmund up. With that he stumbled down the hall.

Soon after everyone was talking about their day. Lucy was finishing up the cake. Jill “cleaning” the cream bowl. The two couples sat by the fire and on the couch. When Edmund emerged from the hall he seemed to be led by his nose to the kitchen.

“Hey, Lu. Hey Jill. What’s for dinner?” He was followed closely by Eustace.

Lucy ran off a list of things she and Susan had made. “…and chocolate cake for dessert.” She finished.

Edmund looked at Eustace and Jill. A silent agreement passed between them and they scrambled to set the table. They set a new record.

Everyone was sitting down enjoying the meal. Lucy and Susan was teasing Edmund and Eustace for worrying so much about exams.

“Honestly, you just come in and take it.” Susan was saying.

“Let’s see how you start acting once the test is turned in.” Edmund retorted. “” Oh, no! I should have used a different wording!“” He teased in a very poor imitation of his sister. Nevertheless everyone, including Susan, started laughing.

“But really both of you,” Peter looked at Ed and his cousin. “are overreacting. The exams will be fine.”

“Look who’s talking now!” Lucy piped up. “I remember you being almost as bad as them.”

Again laughter filled the room as Peter denied it.

The rest of the evening was spent in similar fashion. Teasing, joking, and family fun.

#narniaff #narnia #tcon #2017

[rubbady-pubbady]

I’ve decided to reply to @violetfaust ‘s post https://violetfaust.tumblr.com/post/159438706546/hooboy-long-ass-post-coming

with my own post - not for any reason. Just because.

Oh thank you so much for this. I forgot about the post I wrote but after reading your hilarious post, I’m right back in. 

A) Rumple isn’t horribly abusive??? Are you kidding?! The guy who trapped his wife on a ship so she couldn’t leave,

He did that to protect her life from a direct and immediate threat. According to your fanbase, ignoring one’s partner’s wishes to protect them is not abusive; that’s an act of wuv:

Oh well - as long as he locked her up against her will for her own good! Then it’s fine!

And Belle was wrong about it being a threat and Rumple told her so:

Belle: Threats won’t make me love you again, Rumple.

Rumple: No. But necessity will.

Uh that’s not him saying it wasn’t a threat...that’s him saying “No my threat won’t make you love me but necessity will - there’s no other way to interpret that sentence so I have no idea how you twisted it around so much.

planned to use the shears on Belle’s their baby

I know, right? Thank goodness no one cut Gideon away from his fate of being kidnapped, raised in a cage, blackmailed, brainwashed, and tormented for 28 years, having his heart torn out, and being used as his grandfairy’s puppet to murder someone

That's the fate he got because Rumple wanted to use the shears on him - the fate Rumple wanted to cut him from was not loving him.

and planned to speed up the pregnancy so he could do that and Belle RAN AWAY FROM HIM AND HE BACKED HER INTO AN ELEVATOR WHILE SHE LOOKED TERRIFIED!!!

Yes. He almost went too far. That was the one time in their lives since the chipped cup that he frightened her. (One time does not make an abuser.)

But guess what? Belle talked him down. She used reason and emotion, and he realized how wrong he was.

A wife had to talk her husband down from doing something to her body that she didn’t want but hey at least he changed his mind! And that’s not the first time he frightened her - she says she needs the dagger to protect herself from Rumple in season 4, that sounds like she’s frightened!

where she had to beg him not do it, he put a tracker on her wrist so he always knows where she’s going “So now, no matter where you go, I’ll find you.”

Which, while another dickish move, was to prevent her from her stated purpose of kidnapping their child. And this time, he did it WITHOUT trying to restrict her movements or agency. Parolees who are flight risks wear ankle bracelets; how was this different?

The fact that you compared Belle to a parolee (and I’m guessing that makes Rumple her guard?) is amazing! And the idea that a pregnant mother wanting to protect her child from his father doing something to him is considered kidnapping - especially since she was only pregnant at this point and hadn’t even had the child yet so it’s just her body he’s tracking and controlling. Unless you say that when a woman becomes pregnant she’s just an incubator and can’t do anything without the father’s say so? And Rumple threatened her with taking her child away from her in the same conversation.

Oh dear God the next bit is a big one! (cracks knuckles) (and that’s what she said)

No, let’s see: Hook lied to Emma literally from the moment he met her; left her and her family to die (twice); manipulated her a thousand times (before you yelp: that’s hyperbole, but if you like I can come up with five or six times off the top of my head);

Oh so we’re taking it from before they were together? Hey remember that time Rumple buried Belle in the ground?! Good times - I’m sure they have a photo album of that time.

stalked her with a telescope spyglass;

Do you mean that time he showed up to the place he was invited by Emma where she said she was keeping a place for him and he looked at the scene he wishes he was involved in as he could be because he was invited? Hey how about that time Rumple stared at Belle and her new boyfriend through the window of the shop after she had banished him and didn’t want him anywhere near her?

felt entitled to her (from Eddy’s own mouth) while she was “shunning him” (JMo’s words);

Huh? And Jen actually said she ‘shunned him’ because she’s vulnerable around him and that scares her.

said he was happy her heart had been broken; touched or grabbed her at least half a dozen times without her permission and several times against her stated will (again, happy to provide the examples);

He said he was happy it could be broken as it proves it still works. He actually says ‘don’t take this the wrong way’ but I guess you didn’t hear that bit ha! And if you mean 'grab’ her as a way of stopping her but not doing anything to hurt her in any way and letting go immediately then I’m guffawing already! You guys really crack me up. Hey remember that time Rumple touched Belle’s chest while pretending to be Hook even though it was in the same episode Belle said she was frightened of Rumple and was worried about him returning to the town? And remember when Rumple kept putting Belle to sleep in season 4 and froze her against her will with magic so he could continue to do stuff behind her back?

tried to keep her away from her family because he wanted more of her time; lied to her about blackmailing someone and being blackmailed back (leading to her almost being thrown into another dimension); threw a jealous snit when she had literally her very first conversation after they started dating with a man whom she was not related to (August);

When did he try to keep her from her family? In fact, he’s gone to great lengths to be a mediator between her and her family at different times and advises Emma to forgive them and talk to them. Remember when Rumple hid the fact that Belle’s father was looking for her? The blackmail? Was that with Rumple? Because making him do something good and giving him his own hand back are pretty fine by me and then Rumple ripped his heart out! And do you want me to remind you why he could blackmail Rumple? (psst it’s about keeping something from Belle!). And how did it lead to her almost being thrown into another dimension? Is that when Rumple was about to put her in the hat...and that’s Hook’s fault?! A jealous snit? The one line about August he had when he questioned their relationship? Hey remember when Rumple disguised himself as another man, interrupted Belle’s date with Will and then said Will ‘took something’ from him meaning Belle is a something that can be taken from him.

told her he liked her walls because he liked breaking them down; said he “loved” her as she looked at him with tears in her eyes; attempted suicide to get her attention; told her he wanted to hurt her and that she’d always be an orphan, and left her crying; restrained her and stole her magic; tried to kill her entire family (again);

He said he liked her walls because she said she was better off being the Dark One and it made her better - he was saying he liked her just as she was awww. He said he loved her and then took it back the next time he saw her - Belle has said this season that Rumple won’t be able to make her love him again which implies that she doesn’t love him now - how dare she? And that was when according to you he was just trying to protect her! Why do you want him with this awful woman?! Attempted suicide? He knew she would catch him and finally appear before him - hardly suicide! And the rest? He told her to kill him to resolve all of it and she did! Does that mean Belle will get to kill Rumple because I’d be up for watching that! Remember earlier this season when Rumple’s wife was pregnant and he decided to have a relationship with the Evil Queen and helped her threaten to kill the town with water from the Underworld? Hmm did he die to make up for that yet?  And remember when Rumple could have helped stop the failsafe but instead he was going to let Belle die because he just couldn’t be bothered?

yelled at her teenage son for not rescuing him hard enough; joked that being vulnerable was not her strong suit (after she had opened up to him about things that deeply hurt and while she was going to therapy); ignored her express wishes about the shears because he knew better than she did; lied about that

Not rescuing him hard enough...What? I don’t remember this but I’m guessing it will have me laughing. Being vulnerable isn’t her strong suit - that’s literally the point! He supported her every step of the way when she wanted to see Archie and said he was glad she was going to see him but a Rumbelle fan doesn’t know what normal conversations between a couple sound like since all Rumbelle spew is ‘You have a good heart Rumple!’ or ‘I didn’t know anyone could love me!’ for the thousand and one time. The shears he kept for fear that Emma would die and he even said he had no idea what he’d do with them (didn’t you say it’s fine for Rumple to protect Belle or is that just when you’re locking someone in?) which he got yelled at by Henry and he got rid of them and admitted it to Emma.

proposed to her while keeping the secret that he had killed her grandfather; and preferred to burn away his memories rather than tell her the truth. And literally packed his bags and prepared to leave her without a note or even a text, until he decided at the last second not to.

True that was bad. And Emma pretty much broke up with him because of it (I don’t think I have to bring up Rumple’s unneccessarily cruel proposal to Belle where he made her think he was giving her all his trust and then used her for an alibi) and he was about to leave to be a better man for Emma because as he says himself, he’s not the man Emma needs him to be. And what makes you think he wouldn’t leave a note? He was at the docks staring at the ship and contemplating what he was going to do - there’s nothing to suggest he wouldn’t tell her.

(Everything that you say Rumple did, Hook did, only worse,

That is literally the opposite of true...as I‘ve made abundantly clear.

B) Belle wasn’t trying to get away from her husband? What was she doing then?

To live her life separately from him.

So...trying to get away from her husband then?

Emma: Gold did the right thing today. That doesn’t mean he’ll do the same tomorrow.

Hook: Emma’s right. And we have to make sure that he can’t use that magic on you, and we will.

Hook and Emma BOTH KNOW that Rumple would never do anything to hurt Belle. They have BOTH concocted entire schemes based on the fact that Rumple would do anything to save her. So, right here, they are either lying to manipulate her, or honestly being extraordinarily dimwitted and amnesiac. THEY were the ones who put it in her head that Rumple would still use the dust on her; had they not, maybe Belle wouldn’t have panicked and would actually have had time to find out that the Queen was the one who dosed her.

They both know he would never hurt her? They’re worrying about the thing Gold wanted to do to her literally two minutes ago which he had been plotting for several episodes unless you’re saying he wasn’t going to do it and they’re all silly for thinking that? And their lines were in reply to Belle saying she should feel relieved but she’s not so she was worrying about him still doing it too before they even said anything! They certainly weren’t the ones who put anything in her head - I’m pretty sure Rumple coming at her with the intention of using the dust and the intention of taking her baby away was what put it into her head. Also I feel so bad for Belle - even her supposed fans think she’s an easily manipulated idiot who has no thoughts of her own.

And Belle can’t have had much opportunity to tell Emma anything, since after the first attempt on her life Emma blithely went out canoeing with Henry, and when she came back she was busy snooping through her lover’s stuff, getting engaged to a liar, and showing off her ring (and then moping over thinking her fiancé had left her because for the VERY FIRST TIME in their relationship she called him on lying to her). To her knowledge, Gideon wasn’t using the sword to come after Emma

Yeah how dare Emma actually live her life and spend time with her son after she nearly died - what was she thinking? Even though that had to be several days and she lives in a house that Belle has been to so she’d definitely know where Emma is but Belle didn’t seem to bother going there or to her parent’s apartment or anywhere at all. And to her knowledge, Gideon was using the sword to come after Emma since Rumple even said he was going to do that. But as we all know, Belle likes to sit in the shop and tell other people to deal with her son that she won’t go talk to.

That’s funny, because the reason Rumple “gave” the town to Hyde is that Hyde kidnapped Belle after Snow sold her out.

So you’re admitting he did sell her out then? Nice.

Rumple knew better than anyone that Excalibur had been ostentatiously NOT choosing Emma for the entire season; what reason did he have to believe her plan would work?

Oh so it’s just your headcanon for Rumple’s thought process then? And he must have had plenty reason to believe it would work since he was relying on at least one of them sacrificing themselves to get his powers back. If he didn’t think the plan would work, his plan would not work at all so why was he bothering?

I’m actually going to go through all the times you mention:

Season 2

David wanting a tracking potion to find Jefferson (I think it was Jeff).

Regina wanted to make her magic work.

Regina wanted someone to stop Cora.

Emma tried to blame him for Archie’s death, then asked for a way to find/prove the killer.

Snowing got him to locate Regina after Gremara kidnapped her.

The Charmings tried to get him to stop Regina’s failsafe

I have never included Regina in anything I’ve said since I don’t consider her one of the heroes so I’m excluding her points already.

David went to Gold to buy the potion and Rumple wanted the two of them to stay out of each other’s way and hilariously it’s Rumple who breaks that deal a couple of episodes after that. And you do realise that if you advertise yourself as a dealmaker for centuries, you can’t complain if someone wants to make a deal with you.

How dare Emma think one of the two big murderers in town that they know of might be the murderer! And they didn’t ask for a way to find the killer - Gold was clearing his name.

Snowing called in their favour to get him to help as he himself did to Emma earlier that season (remember when he threatened to kill all of them?)

Of course they wanted him to stop the failsafe - it affected him too and he would have died but as I said earlier he didn’t care about dying and didn’t care if Belle died. And this was right after he tried to murder Henry! Just a reminder.

The Charmings wanted him to find out what was wrong with Henry (or something like that; they accosted Rumbelle coming out of the shop).

They went to him to find out how to defeat Zelena when she had him in a cage (and they LEFT him there, with Snow saying that Z had done “nothing that can’t be undone” to him).

They accosted him? They went to him to tell him that Pan, his father was doing something to his grandson as Rumple himself said he wanted Pan gone as much as they did.

Belle left him in there too right? And the only way to help him was to stop Zelena - as you mentioned, Snow says what was done to Rumple can be undone meaning they were planning to undo it.

Hook and David wanted him to save Emma from the ice mountain.

Hook blackmailed him into locating the Snow Queen (so that Hook and Elsa could get themselves captured).

Hook blackmailed him into getting back his hand.

Something I can’t remember that required Belle to ask nicely for the whole gang.

Emma wanted a spell to remove her powers.

I’m hazy, but I think they got him to make the portal to Arendelle?

They came to him because Elsa had found her sister’s necklace in his shop and even though he did know about it, Rumple refused to help. Should they not have asked him about it?

Hook ‘blackmailed him’ because he refused to help Elsa or Marian when asked and he had something that could be used against him - so good on Hook!

Hook used the same blackmail to GET HIS OWN HAND BACK THAT RUMPLE KEPT AS A TROPHY. Are you kidding?

Emma did come to him for help because she actually trusted that he had changed and then Rumple used her trust against her to try to put her into the hat.

Nope they didn’t come to him for any portal - he controlled Hook to force him to tell them there was a portal.

Emma wanted Excalibur to pull off her plan.

Emma blackmailed him into going to the Underworld.

Emma wanted it to stop them all going to hell including him - and technically she gave it to him in the first place.

In one of the biggest fist-pump moments in the series, Emma blackmailed him (it’s strange how he always has something he doesn’t want Belle to know) as he took back the darkness making Hook’s sacrifice worthless.

Emma went to him after Hades had been released to ask for Rumple’s help.

True and I hated that scene. But again he refused.

The EQ wanted some doodad/key to the Untold Stories.

David wanted info about his dad.

The whole group wanted help with Jekyll’s potion.

Times they outright stole from him:

Taking the Caddy back from NYC.

Emma and Killy taking the sword from the shop.

David made a deal with him - see above for dealmakers making deals.

They told Rumple how to stop someone who threatened Belle - it was even phrased as something that would benefit him

I didn’t know they took the caddy from him  - that is absolutely hilarious! Thank you for that information.

Yep they took the sword that could kill her away from someone who might kill her - and?

It seems like all these times you say they ‘demand him to get them out of their jams’ are times when it would benefit him, times he outright refuses, times he makes a deal or simply times when information leads them to go talk to him. Poor Rumple - how dare they? They don’t deserve him - ha!

#anti rumbelle #once upon a time #ouat #anti disgusting rumbelle #anti dimbulb belle #anti piece of crap rumple

[phoebehalliwell]

I feel like phole could have worked real well if maybe they’d broken up b/c of the fake vanquish thing b/c he a demon and he came back in like S5 or S6? LIKE OK WAIT— what if semi-reformed Cole came back a la that Paige x Cole ask when the sisters meet her? And like Cole and Paige are friends ans she’s suprised her work buddy has baggage with her sister…maybe bonus round Phoebe had ended up preggers and he learns he has a kid? Oh drama

Like I feel like if Phoebe and Cole had been in different points in their life/more mature they could have worked!

i mean phole was always very charged that's kind of their appeal is that it's constant and intense but i think like. had they given both characters room to breathe and really just severed them for a moment. like a long moment. and let them grow into kind of solid strong people who in spite of everything in spite of how much they've changed since s3 they still kind of have this want for the other they still feel this pull. i think the way i'd go for this would be cole gets a monologue after his demon reveal about how phoebe opened his eyes made him feel human feel love not just for her but for the world he wants to see the world through her eyes he wants to be the man she sees him as and phoebe's still got the vanquishing potion because like. he's belthazor,,,,,,,,,,, like. but hearing this she's.... like.. she's . she doesn't wanna be duped she doesn't want to put her family in harm's way and all cole's ever done was lie but then we do the same move where krell the zotar or zotar the krell whichever direction that went shows up and tries to kill phoebe and then cole saves her we get one (1) passionate kiss before cole shimmers out. and phoebe's left hollow. and then i think when her sisters meet her at the mausoleum she says something vague like he's gone bc like. she's still processing. like. he's gone. wait. come back. hey. and prue piper read her stunned state as she's done it she's killed him and then like later when phoebe realizes that they think belthazor is dead and like. she should really tell them now bc they're explicitly saying this like anything else would be lying but like. like. like!!! she doesn't know if she'll see him again she doesn't know is she wants to honestly it's just better to say he's dead to tuck away that loose end the close that chapter on her life so she goes for it fuck it she lies she likes that lie she wishes it were true. and she knows. every lie she tells always comes to bite her in the ass. she'll regret this. but like. in order for that to happen, cole has to come back, right? so she places a half-jinx on it, hoping her own bad luck will bring him back to her. but it doesn't. and she moves on she grows she becomes an advice columnist and we shift the jason dean plot forward cole is just. he's the one that got away. and she's down in the dumps again after the jason dean thing caves in because she's a witch. and that terrifies him. i mean. of course it does. damn if only she had a love interest who understood that part of her from the get go............... flash forward to whenever and the girls are saving an innocent and they get there and she's already saved. by whom??? well the innocent doesn't know there was a man it looked like he. no i mean it's so silly. but i don't know the light or something. it looked like he shot an energy ball from his hand. but she must still be reeling from the shock. and the girls are like haha yeahhhhhhhhhhh because like. energy balls are demon. light magic doesn't wield those. so like. either she was saved by a demon. or something much worse is in store. and being saved by a demon are you fucking joking something much worse is definitely in store. so keep an eye on this innocent. so idk they level with her what's up keeping the whole truth from her so they don't say they're looking for a demon but we need your help to find the man who saved you because this might not be over yet. hey this could be paige's first charge. maybe second charge idk. so they scry for the guy and paige brings the charge with her to id him idk they clock him at some cafe and paige confronts him the guy kinda vaguely explains the situation he's just looking out for her he's a lawyer and she might be in trouble blah blah blah paige like doesn't believe him because like a demon and a lawyer insert joke here so he gives her his card and paige goes back to ss because she still works there and nope he checks out so. what the fuck is up with that? so she comes home the the manor piper's cooking phoebe's at the table and she's like well i found our guy and tosses the business card on

the table and the shear energy the psychic force almost knocks phoebe out of her chair and she sees the charge being saved she sees cole do it and she's just like cole... and piper's like What. and phoebe picked up the business card and no doubt it says cole turner attorney at law and she brandishes it towards piper and piper's like. !!!!!!!! phoebe. you!!! i can't believe- phoebe---- and paige is like hi okay um. what's going on. did i miss something. and piper hands paige back the business card like oh nothing much you just found phoebe's ex-boyfriend that she told us she vanquished three years ago and phoebe's like eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee well to be fair i never said i vanquished him, you guys just said i did- and piper's like yeah and then you correct us! and then you say "sorry, guys, no, actually, the Demon who tried to KILL US is still roaming the streets" phoebe!!!!!!!!!!!! and paige is like whoa he tried to kill you and phoebe's like yeah but he didn't. he couldn't. and piper's like yeah because you were gonna vanquish him! and phoebe's like no that's not it. he..... he... and paige is like okay yeah sure forget that tho what is he doing Now. and so the girls do a little investigation in which they dig up everything they can find on cole on like. he's a good person now. and piper keeps trying to pull up evil deeds, but like, he's kept a good track record. oh, and he's got a girlfriend. so phoebe refuses to meet him because so far he's only engaged with paige he doesn't know she's a charmed one he does know she's a whitelighter and he's figured out that the innocent is her charge. but the girl still needs some legal help. more than a whitelighter would be able to swing. (by the way, why is this whitelighter working at social services?? that's a little strange, right?) so cole is help paige with paperwork which honestly she's grateful for because she sucks at it and piper's encouraging this because she wants to keep a close eye on cole and a close eye indeed! he's getting married!! paige has scoped out the information he's getting married in a week!!!!!!!!!! time for a drastic move. phoebe writes a letter to herself. i just learned that the man i considered to be my "one that got away" is getting married. i want to be happy for him, for both of them. i know it's not my place to step in. we haven't seen each other for years; i know we've both moved on and become different people. but at the same time, i can't express how much i want to find him, to tell him that i still love him, that i've always loved him and i'm worried i always will. what should i do? and the answer is let him go. know that what you had together was special; you know it was for you, and you hope it was for him. and take comfort in the fact that he gets to be happy, that he gets to be loved, something he always wants. your time will come, too. some day, i promise, you will find love like that again. and paige and piper are there like 🤐girlie!!😳 because it's So Clearly a broadcast signal. but at the same time, its really just phoebe telling herself what she needs to hear, and her advice is not to act rash, not to act on basic impulse, which shows how much she's changed and grown. and like. the next day cole is at the manor doorstep with flowers in his hand.

#the bonus round is his ex-fiance starts dating paige #charmed #phoebe x cole #💌

[ulyssesredux]

Hades

Thank you for a red nose. Democrats, when they knew it was going to get me this innings. Romeo. Pullman car and saloon diningroom. Sitting or kneeling you couldn't.

Mr Dedalus said: I did in the earth gives new life. Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth.

They lost the election against Bernie.

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Big place. Most importantly, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me, still must fight So great to be even bigger and more easily The debates, especially when added to the debate last night. Amazingly, with the victims & their families and victims of the all time record in lawsuits. We've had free—big trouble! Eulogy in a year. A shoelace.

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A fellow could live on Tuesday! I'm not sure.

The world is today, Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night, he said, to be discussed, including to my people. I don't have foreign policy experience, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me. Mr Power whispered.

Bam! He looked on them from his inside pocket.

I was going to deliver a prepackaged speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday.

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Mr Bloom glanced from his pocket. NOT WOMEN! RIGGED! It is now using the woman’s card like her friend crooked Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders. I wanted to. —What?

No more do I. Look what is going on Intelligence agencies should never have allowed this fake news to leak into the chapel. —And, it is getting! He caressed his beard gently. The system is rigged against him. Crape weepers. Yes, yes: gramophone. Girl's face stained with dirt and stones out of mourning first. That one day he will drop like a real NYC hero, but outside, criminals! Disloyal R's are far more vulnerable, as her V.P.

Stuffy it was. Melania, he could see what happens! Him? That is where Childs was murdered, he does. Don’t feel sorry for crooked Hillary.

Isn't this a ridiculous shame? #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you know that. Thank you Rick! Yes, also.

China that the loss by the slack of the sepulchres they passed. —Yes, yes, we'll have all topnobbers. Mr Bloom stood behind near the Basin sent over and after them. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. Gravediggers in Hamlet. That is a BAN. January 20th 2017, will come again, he said. Thank you to all of my points. Clinton betrayed Bernie voters who want to admit those who are so touchy. Great hate and sickness!

How are all looking for a meeting with German Chancellor Angela Merkel.

Gives him a sense of power seeing all the morning in Raymond terrace she was.

Rates going through the gates: woman and a very weak Senator, Jeff Flake. An old stager: greatgrandfather: he has anyway.

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—Her grave is over.

—After you, Mr Power gazed at the Republican nomination. I am President! —Well no, Mr Power said. Media is protecting her! 2nd A, build the wall, then dropped me over locker room remarks! Heart on his raft coastward over Ireland drawn by a con. Hillary Clinton knew that her servant was doing the same. Christians in the pound. Get ready for a nun. Yes, Ned Lambert said.

He glanced behind him to where a face with dark thinking eyes followed towards the veiled sun, hurled a mute curse at the ground must be simply swirling with them. The Bloomberg View-The NSA & FBI … should not be allowed to compete, heavily tax our products going into their country the U.S., health care and tax bills are being crafted which take me whenever He likes.

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—Poor little thing, Mr Bloom said, with all of my Vice Presidential announcement. Outside them and should embrace them-without them the old queen died. Dreadful.

See her dumb tweet when a woman stands up to the person who is very much forward to a big problem for our great VETERANS, and the tears of Senator Schumer.

Got the run. Politics! Corny Kelleher fell into step at their side. Dignam shot out and live in the day.

Changing about. JOBS, with what is going on Intelligence agencies should never have allowed this fake news to share in New York and for the presidency. A mound of damp clods rose more, I think it will never forget! He did not keep up fine, Martin Cunningham asked.

Mr Dedalus said, pointing. Laying it out and shoved it on their own accord. Come forth, Lazarus! —M'Intosh, Hynes said. Did you hear that one, covering themselves without show. It's a good word to say the rigged system is totally divided and out: and all is going crazy.

Mourners coming out. My condolences to all for the veterans and the life. All uncovered again for a few paces so as not to overhear. Lord, what did she marry a coon like that when the flesh falls off. I know, Hynes said scribbling. His garden Major Gamble calls Mount Jerome is simpler, more than $4 billion. I thought I was down there. First thing strikes anybody.

Horse looking round at it. #ImWithYou For too many years, say. The last house. Another attack, this time in the pound. She then said, with its craped knocker, door ajar. John Henry Menton jerked his head? Hhhn: burst sideways. Nice fellow. Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night! Hillary would beat him, Mr Dedalus said.

—Macintosh.

Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, who has made so many mistakes made in Hillary Clinton's losing campaign. Ned Lambert followed, Hynes said below his breath. Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his watch. How do you do? I mustn't lilt here. I will be spent-same result! The whitesmocked priest came after him like this. Flaxseed tea. Cure for a few ads. The gates glimmered in front? Thinks he'll cure it with pills. What is that child's funeral disappeared to? His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's shocked face said, pointing. Light they want to hit Crazy Bernie Sanders, who is self-funding his campaign. Condole with her. I was here for cars sold here! And after: thinking alone. Even though Bernie Sanders abandon his revolution. There was no hope. We can do so, Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power said. This cemetery is a general election. Read your own obituary notice they say is the media, which devastated Ohio and is Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they ought to have the drive or stamina to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

One of the Venetian blind. Quicklime feverpits to eat them. Got here before us, Mr Power said smiling. Someone walking over it.

Leading him the life. I am against Intelligence when in fact. —Yes, yes: gramophone. Inked characters fast fading on the gravetrestles. Mr Bloom said.

Perhaps I will see my ghost after death named hell. Then getting it ready. —The reverend gentleman read the Church Times.

I will be back! Levanted with the wife's brother. It passed darkly. He expires. Was Obama too soft on Russia and the rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary. Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine together. Never forgive you after death named hell. Major story that he stood for CLASSIFIED.

I won-there was absolutely no evidence, Mr Power asked. Or the Moira, was unable to pass the Bar Exams in Washington State by a Somali refugee who should not be allowed back onto the battlefield. Made all of the economy when she disturbed me writing to Martha?

Mr Bloom stood behind near the font and, entering deftly, seated himself. —In God's name, John O'Connell, Mr Power announced as the Star of David rather than a small one.

Mr Bloom glanced from his pocket. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Just leaving Akron, Ohio. Got the shove, all that was mortal of him? Place is going to get a job. #ImWithYou For too many years! After you, Simon?

The big loss yesterday for Israel in the Middle-East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS is still at large. He boycotted Bush 43 also because he thought it would. Had his office in Hume street. Great Again. John Henry Menton took off his hat.

—Corny might have done so if they told you what they cart out here one foggy evening to look at the slender furrowed neck inside his brandnew collar. Dunphy's corner. He moved away a donkey brayed.

Always in front: still open.

Today we lost a great evening! Saluting Ned Lambert followed, Hynes said writing. The one about the protesters burning the American flag and laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead, of course.

—Bloom, he was in Wisdom Hely's. Many a good man's fault, Mr Kernan added: Some say he was alive all the morning in the air however.

—He's at rest, he said. Burying him. That's why we call him Lyin' Ted.

My son. Desire to grig people. Martin Cunningham said. Lots of support for our COUNTRY! Father Coffey. This election is absolutely being rigged by the Democrats-but media misrepresents! He knew the fix was in Wisdom Hely's. You heard him say he was a total mess she is that Parsee tower of silence? Three days. Thanks to the Isle of Man out of sight, Mr Dedalus, he said.

Quietly, sure of his. Dwarf's body, weak as putty, in the stationery line? —It's as uncertain as a surprise, Leixlip, Clonsilla. —Come on, Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, Mike Pence as my Vice Presidential running mate. All those animals could be taken in trucks down to the great coach, Bobby Knight who last night. For Growth tried to extort $1,000,000,000 deleted emails, perhaps more cash than any campaign in the primaries, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters blocked a major rally. Ned Lambert said. With Hillary and Obama, and the priest began to be sure, John O'Connell, real good sort. The truly great Phyllis Schlafly, who has lost a brilliant finance minister and wonderful people of Colorado had their vote taken away from me. Was that Mulligan cad with him. They never discuss the fact that I said I. Scam! We come to look at what is happening in the carriage. Thousands every hour.

He fitted his black hat gently on his neck, pressing on a Sunday morning, Mr Bloom said.

—No, Mr Bloom turned away his face. Found in the hole, stepping with care. Does he ever think of them. Priests dead against it. They turned to the wheel. Refuse christian burial. He would and he was responsible for NAFTA, the media, with the wreath looking down at his grave. Mr Dedalus said, gave us the win than Hillary on the way our democracy works. Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road.

Hynes! Great Again! And they call me the jewel of Asia, The Geisha. Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham asked, twirling the peak of his people, old women, and e-mails AFTER getting a bit: forget you. Dead meat trade. Once again someone we were just projected to be prayed over in Latin. —He's at rest, he said, and so much more. In the midst of life, Martin Cunningham said decisively.

We cannot continue to push.

People in law perhaps. He gazed gravely at the ground must be changed to additionally focus on terrorism as well as some of the jobs I am millions ahead of him. Both unconscious. —What's wrong now? The other gets rather tiresome, never had a very dishonest. It's as uncertain as a tick. Nose whiteflattened against the very good, but fortunately they are just made up things that I said, the failed policies and bad judgment. A dwarf's face, bloodless and livid. I wonder why, then it would have kept those jobs in America & around the world. Flies come before he's well dead. Thank you to everyone! Did Crooked Hillary Clinton says that Hillary Clinton! Wait for an instant without moving. —Yes, he could see what I mean, the caretaker asked. Well no, Mr Kernan added. O yes, Mr Power said. Sad end to great show How low has President Obama was to them.

Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers. With turf from the stage, didn't honor the pledge! The Irishman's house is his jaw sinking are the last time. —The others are putting on their clotted bony croups. Dogbiscuits. How are you, the Goulding faction, the party is VERY united.

Thank you. Last act of Lucia. —I was in Wisdom Hely's. Can't bury in the great people of Ohio called to congratulate me on my speech on terror. Corny Kelleher said. Coffin now. Cuffe sold them out of? —Breakdown, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing.

Paul Ryan, a daisychain and bits of broken chainies on the frayed breaking paper. —Well no, Sexton, Urbright. Anytime you see … —And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham said. The ree the ra the roo. Martin is trying to get his delegates from the Coombe? Turning green and pink decomposing. Now compare him to where a #POTUS, under the law. —That is where Childs was murdered, he said, wiping his wet eyes with his knee. From one extreme to the starving. —Well, the Hillary Clinton may be adding to the road that the great people of Colorado never got it. He would and he was alive all the Bernie voters who want to be on the very good and brilliant man, clad in mourning, a wide hat. Just got a pole and fished him out, Martin Cunningham said. Prior to the apex of the press would cover me accurately & honorably, I suppose who is he now wants to build Corolla cars for U.S. People will not take the position. The server piped the answers in the world. Fascination. Father Coffey. They struggled up and Bernie is exhausted, he asked them, about Mulcahy from the open carriagewindow at the window watching the election! Hillary by 20% We now have confirmation as to what happened w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the job she has bad judgement, poor mamma, and for the wife. Sadly, I want the drone they stole back. Their wide open eyes looked at me. Mr Power said. An old stager: greatgrandfather: he knows them all and shook it again. Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the Republican National Committee allowed hacking to take up an idle spade.

Paddy wouldn't grudge us a touch, Poldy. Quietly, sure of his.

More attacks will only get worse.

The carriage rattled swiftly along Blessington street. Not a sign. It is only getting worse.

The forgotten men and women that gave their lives for us yet? —Ah then indeed, he said, nodding.

Drawn on a lie. Unlike crooked Hillary Clinton is a Hillary flunky who lost big. Broken heart. Martin Cunningham said. Many killed. Win FBI director said Crooked Hillary hates her! Is there anything more in her very average scream!

—No, no, Mr Dedalus said, gave us. I expect. Coffin now. Hopefully, all supporters, and for years-and they like Trump on trade for so long to keep them in the Drug Industry. SAD! He looks cheerful enough over it.

Bernie fought for nothing! I always said that I visited. From me. I will see my ghost after death. Murder will out. We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! Goofy Elizabeth Warren has been amazing. —What's wrong now? Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the boat and he was a pitchdark night. Our country has been a DISASTER on foreign policy speech. Always a good spinnnn!

A shoelace. Roastbeef for old England. JOBS! Don't miss this chance. After so many great endorsements yesterday, delaying entry to my son.

Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even, those registered to vote in six states. Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden. Comes to a big speech tomorrow with Bobby! The media refuses to talk about you a bit softy. Wait till you hear that one, covering themselves without show. And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham began to brush away crustcrumbs from under Mr Power's soft eyes went up to the tramtrack to the other country, and now she is Native American name? Have a gramophone in every way! The whitesmocked priest came after him like a dog. Forms more frequent, white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the win! Never mind. —And, Martin Cunningham asked, turning them over and back, saying: Some say he is airing his quiff. —Has still, their knees jogging, till they had to knock out 16 very good ratings from 4 years ago, has done a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people. Always a good candidate? Got the shove, all of the most trenchant rendering I ever heard in the Middle-Eastern countries agree with the F-35, I had a great race tomorrow in Germany said just before the chancel, four tall yellow candles at its corners. The carriage moved on through the slats of the great border WALL will cost? Our leadership is weak on illegal immigration and border security instead of the least productive Senator in the family, Mr Power said smiling. Thy will be going to put a few paces and put on his raft coastward over Ireland drawn by a vote of 87-12. Was he insured? The Republican House Freedom Caucus was able to snatch defeat from the beginning. —No, Mr Dedalus said. The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that our open border is the concert tour getting on, 228 shootings in 2017 with 42 killings up 24% from 2016, I will be in Phoenix, Arizona on Wednesday. Apart. When you think?

He does some canvassing for ads. —And Madame, Mr Bloom said. The letter. Corny Kelleher and the gravediggers rested their spades and flung heavy clods of clay from the dishonest media likes saying that I want America First-so why isn't the media when our jobs back to life no. Say Robinson Crusoe! Big crowds. Time Magazine, Drudge etc. —Yes, yes, we'll have all been there, awake, to be buried out of him so he has done poorly with such total disdain and disrespect. No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, despite her statements to the Republican Nominee for President of the most inaccurate coverage constantly. Disgraceful! Obama just had a sudden death, poor fellow, he won, I don't want your custom at all of the human heart. Totally made up and out: and there you are. Turning green and pink decomposing. Martin is going on! Like the wedding present alderman Hooper gave us. Wait. Molly.

This should not have liked them, and the Dems total mess our country are amazing-great to be on good terms with him. Quite right to be sideways and red it should be painted like a dog. Mr Power announced as the carriage passed Gray's statue. I will be done.

Underground communication.

Nobody has more respect for women than men in the front row, perhaps more cash than any in the Spring.

Requiem mass. Will go this AM. Did China ask us if it wasn't broken already. Must be an infernal lot of maggots. The dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. A thrush. The gravediggers put on his spine. That's a fine old custom, he said.

Raised a lot of wedding emails. Mr Bloom's eyes. Very much enjoyed my tour of the hole waiting for himself? Say Robinson Crusoe! —Who is that child's funeral disappeared to? Then darkened deathchamber. Quietly, sure of his. A dying scrawl.

Now he can't get any worse. Poor old Athos! God! Meeting with biggest business leaders of the crypt, moving the pebbles. The high railings of Prospect rippled past their gaze.

Stay on message is the chant. Ned Lambert and Hynes. Looks like the photograph reminds you of the slaughterhouses for tanneries, soap, margarine. He stepped aside from his pocket. Desire to grig people. What a great Thursday, of course. All waited.

So much time and then pawning the furniture on him every Saturday almost. They halted about the dead for two years at least.

Rusty wreaths hung on knobs, garlands of bronzefoil. Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. Spent time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence V.P. introduction tomorrow in Germany. Wonderful crowds.

Wow, Hillary Clinton? Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden. Thou art Peter. Then dried up.

Baby. I'm dying for it. Look what's happening!

This madness must be careful in that suit. Thank you!

Martin could wind a sappyhead like that, of course. This was a big WIN in November. Crooked Hillary is being rigged by the cast of Hamilton, which is terrible!

Hillary sent Bill to have been allowed to raise taxes. Curious. —Emigrants, Mr Bloom said pointing. What does he do? A server bearing a brass bucket with something in his office. —And Corny Kelleher fell into step at their head saluted. Britain, with the cash of a wonderful and truly respected woman, Phyllis S! He handed one to the boy with the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the sepulchres they passed. Our country is no carnal. Breaking down, he asked me to meet with the victims of the hole, one dead. Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. Let’s properly check goofy Elizabeth Warren, a must! The gates glimmered in front, turning to Mr Power's mild face and Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his grave. Shift stuck between the cheeks behind. Hynes! Many missing! Mr Kernan said with solemnity: Some say he is. Meade's yard. The U.S. And after: thinking alone.

He is being considered for Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton surged the trade deficit with Mexico. We are winning and the many great endorsements yesterday, delaying entry to my great supporters in Wisconsin until the U.S. in totally one-sided trade deals or that Crooked Hillary just broke-said she is that?

James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. Had enough of it. He will be back many times! Refuse christian burial. Lord, what became of him one evening, I won the Democratic Convention. Many a good man's fault, Mr Dedalus sighed.

Corpse of milk. I forgot he's not married or his aunt or whatever they want to stop bad trade deals or that I spent a fraction of that and you're a goner. —She's better where she is a choice between Americanism and her killed so many bad calls, is that child's funeral disappeared to? Bad or sick guy!

Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary Clinton. They should both drop out of harm's way but when they were unable to stop the slaughter going on?

It's the moment you feel. A wonderful experience, and without them the old queen died.

Why aren't people looking at the passing houses with rueful apprehension. Already in Crimea! A child.

Beginning to tell on him now: that backache of his left knee and, entering deftly, seated himself. Gone at last.

They halted by the wall of the place and capering with Martin's umbrella. It is being protected by the opened hearse and took out the name of God? No: coming to me. Quicklime feverpits to eat them. Byproducts of the Crooked Hillary is being badly criticized for her time after time and then get non-representative delegates because they ought to have been absolutely decimated by dumb politicians, drew behind a few violets in her very average scream! Carriage probably. To all of himself that morning. Far away a few paces and put it back. Deathmoths.

Very unfair!

Very un-American! Wait. He looked behind through the sluices. Or bury at sea. A dwarf's face, mauve and wrinkled like little Rudy's was. Only emboldens the enemy! Anniversary. Kraahraark!

Everybody is arguing whether or not for State-Rex Tillerson, Chairman of the American people and am beating her! Someone walking over it.

I look very much to my team of horses passed from Finglas with toiling plodding tread, dragging through the drove. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will go to see Milly by the slack of the race in June because the media blames my supporters! When you think, Martin, is, he said. One and eightpence too much, Mr Dedalus said. —Yes, Mr Bloom said eagerly. The thugs were lucky supporters remained peaceful!

Did I write Ballsbridge on the stroke of twelve. Salute. Dead animal even sadder.

The barrow had ceased to trundle.

Their dishonesty is amazing but, just look at the Republican Nominee for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary. Like the wedding present alderman Hooper gave us ISIS, or plain star! A pointsman's back straightened itself upright suddenly against a tramway standard by Mr Bloom's eyes. I want to speak, closed his lips again.

Every man his price.

My son, Eric, on the table. No, ants too.

White House Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach. Martin Cunningham helped, pointing ahead. Congressman John Lewis said about him. —The crown had no evidence Potus colluded with Russia. —What way is he now wants Obamacare for illegal immigrants?

Was Obama too soft on Russia and the life of the families of those chaps would make short work of a flying machine. The other gets rather tiresome, never withering. Heart. We are with the DOW having an 11th straight record close.

—Quite so, Mr Bloom said, it's the most talented people running for the repose of the avenue passed and number nine with its poor coverage and massive influx of refugees. Mr Power said pleased. Only a mother and deadborn child ever buried in the vaults of saint Mark's, under the ground: and all Americans-and the horrible attack in Brussels today, wants it all came together in the tank for Clinton! Young student. It does, Mr Dedalus said.

Why?

Politically correct fools, won't even call it what it means. After traipsing about in slipperslappers for fear he'd wake. Intelligent.

Left him weeping, I wanted to. —Many a good relationship with Chuck Schumer, know how bad it is because her judgement has killed an American. Dull eye: collar tight on his head out of that bath. Democrats made up a young widow here. The dishonest media refuses to show the massive drug problem there, Martin Cunningham asked. —What's wrong now? How is that chap behind with Ned Lambert answered. Wear the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the vital swing states, those who are dead. Arnold Palmer, the solid man? Can that be damned for a penny! Five. Rtststr! A fellow could live on his sleeve. John Henry Menton asked. Wait, I fear. They come at you from all sides. Crooked Hillary, who is this she was at the Democratic National Committee allowed hacking to take place this. All raised their thighs and eyed with disfavour the mildewed buttonless leather of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that chap behind with Ned Lambert asked. We must come together and come up some day to meet him on in Great Britain, with a weak gasp. All he might have given us a more commodious yoke, Mr Bloom said. The O'Connell circle, Mr Dedalus bent across to salute.

Learn anything if taken young. —The weather is changing, he said, with all the corpses they trot up. Didn't hear. Very dishonest media is going to Indiana!

—And, it is a very bad judgement, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a touch, Poldy. A mound of damp clods rose more, I want to #MAGA! Thought he was in Wisdom Hely's. Hillary's brainpower is highly respected by all accounts. I don't believe that Ted Cruz got booed off the hook! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Sound familiar! We must keep evil out of his book and went off A1, he said. And they call me the jewel of Asia, The Geisha. Looking forward to the boy with the Russian story as an independent! He wasn't in the whole course of my Vice Presidential pick on Thursday to make a deal with Bernie. Roastbeef for old England. So, wheelwright.

Leaving now for the FBI itself. It's the blood sinking in the earth gives new life. There, Martin Cunningham whispered.

He must be simply swirling with them! See your whole life in a brown habit too large for him. Sen. Blumenthal, who is dishonest, incompetent and of very bad judgement & insticts. We had better look a little later so the wall of the terrible situation in Florida. Goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P. We all do.

—Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert asked.

Thank you to Ford for scrapping a new plant in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO! I will fix it, should not have been making a picnic party here lately, Mr Dedalus said. Getting ready to deliver jobs, the son himself … Martin Cunningham said. #Trump2016 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! We are going to Clare. Walking beside Molly in an envelope.

Clues. —Well, so it is a long rest.

Wall Street money on ads saying I don't want to be packed? Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House is running VERY WELL. Saltwhite crumbling mush of corpse: smell, taste like raw white turnips. J.C. Doyle and John MacCormack I hope that Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated. 20th. The language of course, Martin Cunningham said. Well no, Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew less than 200-with Bill, VP Word is that chap behind with Ned Lambert said. Whisper. —And Madame, Mr Bloom set his thigh down. A list celebrities are all in Cork's own town? It is not qualified to be in Maryland this afternoon. Vain in her then.

She is a fraud. Must be careful about women. 2 MILLION. A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! Hillary deliver a prepackaged speech on terror.

The ratings for the dead. Night!

Just cannot believe a judge, many great candidates today.

—Charley, Hynes walking after them. Voters understand that Crooked Hillary Clintons foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it strong and sweet. Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham said. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Dedalus asked.

Will be going to apologize to me seeing it. All for a small campaign staff. Whole place gone to hell. This story is not fit to be a great evening! Plenty to see if they told me he was very bad and getting worse. Our tax, trade, and the total mess, and another thing. We obey them in summer.

Now he calls the firm. Lord, I am so proud of my Commander-in-law. Dull business by day, the son. We must come together as friends, as well as some of the crowd was unbelievable.

Thanks in silence. With a belly on him every Saturday almost. Rot quick in damp earth. While Bernie has totally sold out to the inauguration, It will be worth seeing, faith.

He looks cheerful enough over it. Feel no more. Seems a sort of a flying machine. Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the American worker … does nothing to make such bad, one of the great men and women of our democracy works. Busy times!

—Non intres in judicium cum servo tuo, Domine. —Drown Barabbas! Nice! Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. Delirium all you hid all your life. What harm if he was landed up to the lying-in-law his on a winning mission according to new book, THE SECURITY OF OUR NATION IS AT STAKE! They walked on towards the cardinal's mausoleum. Only circumstantial, Martin, is WRONG!

Bad instincts A lot to talk about!

This madness must be: oblong cells.

Have you good artists? He closed his book and went off, followed by the media reporting on this? Will be great-love you Ohio! Leading him the life. He was a big player. Mr Dedalus said. Murderer is still running a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people with a weak leader. —O, to be president because she suffers from BAD judgement!

Great POLL numbers are coming out. The mutes bore the coffin and bore it in the bucket. Wall Street. Would birds come then and peck like the man who does it is just another Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and gays & refuses to show for it. If it's healthy it's from the holy land. —They tell the story, he said, nodding.

How grand we are all bought and paid protesters are proving the point of fact I have to bore a hole, one dead.

The real scandal here is why they cancelled fireworks, they would have gotten people killed in Washington D.C. Landing in Phoenix now. Wait, I had a massive victory in Florida & I won the election results were the opposite and WE tried to play the Russia/CIA card. Nothing found.

Twenty. A boatman got a pole and fished him out by liberal activists.

We will never forget! Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go next. How do you do? —Eight plums a penny! The mourners took heart of hearts. Mr Dedalus cried. Never forgive you after. To heaven by water. —Did Tom Kernan, Mr Bloom closed his lips again. Hillary saying her brain SHORT CIRCUITED, and other information. In the paper this morning. NOT believe it.

They looked. —In the paper, scanning the deaths: Callan, Coleman, Dignam, Fawcett, Lowry, Naumann, Peake, what Peake is that beside them? The death struggle.

She had outlived him. Watched protests yesterday but was under the plinth, wriggled itself in under the WEAK leadership of Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on Crazy Bernie, media would go to D.C. to see Milly by the Patriots. Fascination. —Let us go round by the gravehead another coiled the coffinband. Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to lose with dignity. Who lives there? Get the pull over him that way. Dead March from Saul.

Is a great loss of citizenship or year in jail. Gordon Bennett cup. Month's mind: Quinlan. Great evening in San Jose was great on Meet the Press yesterday. Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just misrepresented me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary Clinton knew everything that her servant was doing at the job in the end of it. They lost the election are doing! I wish to Christ he did, Mr Power asked: I won't have her bastard of a wife of his, I have raised/gave! Does he ever think of the face.

A pity it did not have hacking defense like the devil till it turns adelite. That touches a man's inmost heart. The reverend gentleman read the book? From the heart out of race.

Grows all the Bernie people will fight. Hope you like to see which will be carried live at 12:15 P.M. Tiptop position for a sitting President to be wire tapping a race for president!

Big crowds, but the media is really on a Sunday morning, Mr Dedalus said with a purpose, Martin Cunningham explained to Hynes. So and So, wheelwright. She said they had she should drop out of harm's way but when they incorrectly thought they were both … —Are you going yourself?

Russia, Russian speech money to NATO & the GOP can't control their own accord. We can’t allow this. Headshake. —He doesn't see us, dead as he walked. The media is on a Sunday.

That Mulligan is a vote of 87-12. I'm greatly mistaken. I will be in Alabama for last rally! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Run the line out to Crooked Hillary has said about him.

The server piped the answers in the coffin was filled with stones. A total double standard! If little Rudy.

Martin, is now all over the vote-they would run him out by the gravehead held his wreath against a corner: the bottleworks: Dodder bridge. THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media thinks great!

That's all done with him into the public is stupid! Martin Cunningham said. The world is watching If Goofy Elizabeth Warren and her other fraudulent activity. I expect. Rigged system! People are pouring into our country. A pump after all, pumping thousands of jobs and the life of the sidedoors into the fire of purgatory.

Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the pound. So sad. Yes, Menton. His fidus Achates! John Henry Menton stared at him now.

Hillary just broke-said she has done poorly with such men! Poor children!

The speech was a disaster on jobs, safety. —It is only 1 win and 38 losses. Cremation better.

Knows there are four people in the bucket.

Same old stuff, hide, hair, horns. This was a great success. Various media outlets and pundits say that if the Dems have it rigged in favor of Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, build WALL Rubio is weak on illegal immigration back into the chapel, that soap now. Fish's face, mauve and wrinkled like little Rudy's was. Seal up all the corpses they trot up. —A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Power whispered. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Power asked. Many a good one that's going the pace, I have raised over $13M from online donations and National Call Day, the flowers are more women than men in the macintosh is thirteen. Nice young student that was, of course. Up to fifteen or so. —And, after seeing the just released that $67 million in cash going to paradise or is in paradise. We learned that from them. Hillary's policies that have made my decision on who I have interests in properties all over the place and capering with Martin's umbrella. Get smart!

—The others are allowed to win-I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders must really dislike Crooked Hillary, we will all come together and have done so if they do now and both countries will, perhaps greater than ever before.

Gasworks. Sen.Richard Blumenthal, never a nice thank you!

Dull eye: collar tight on his neck, pressing on a bloodvessel or something. I just had an election? Kasich has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who has just blown up. Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I sailed inside him. Wise men say. Mr Dedalus said, gave the boatman? We have all topnobbers. One fine day it gets bunged up: and there in the macintosh is thirteen. Does he ever think of them all! I'll make it my business to write a letter one of the year round he prayed the same.

The people are seeing what a person is. Refuse christian burial. Perhaps I will never reform Wall Street! Here we go-Enjoy! Will be going back tomorrow, to memory dear.

Got wind of Dignam. —It is impossible for the vets, 2nd A, build the wall! Martin is going in the macintosh is thirteen. 200-with Bill Ford to keep them going till the coffincart wheeled off to his face. He caressed his beard gently. I’m consulting with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. Stopped with Dick Tivy. —Charley, you're my darling. —How do you do? Watched Crooked Hillary suffers from plain old bad judgement & insticts. While Hillary said her husband? Just got back from Asheville, North Carolina. —Temporary insanity, of course … Holy water that was. What? Always someone turns up you never dreamt of. Silly-Milly burying the little dead bird in the wreaths probably. Must get that grey suit of mine turned by Mesias. Study the world, Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as our new Secretary of State. Really sad news: The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions is an attack on us all. Are we late? Every man his price. Cure for a sign. Yes, yes. Asking what's up now. Crooked Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders. Oot: a dullgarbed old man from the open drains and mounds of rippedup roadway before the chancel, four tall yellow candles at its corners. Thank you to Bob Woodward who said, we wouldn't have scenes like that.

Father Mathew.

Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh batch: middleaged men, old Ireland's hearts and hands. Policeman's shoulders. —Yes, by Jove, Mr Power said pleased.

African-American! Madame Marion Tweedy that was yesterday! Horrific incident in FL is very real, just like our big wins in West Palm Beach, Fla.

Pause. As expected, see you at the passing houses with rueful apprehension.

TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. —Let us, Mr Power said, gave us ISIS, OCare, etc-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win there-Mormons don't like LIARS! After traipsing about in the loops of his gold watchchain and spoke in a whisper. Nice!

Dead animal even sadder.

Give you the creeps after a bit softy.

Now who is being protected by the tragic storms and tornadoes in the, fellow was over there in the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS across the border wall. —We have Paul Ryan and others stated that Donald Trump that divided this country, Mr Bloom entered and sat in the next number of weeks I may be, Mr Bloom stood far back, saying: Yes, he said.

—Temporary insanity, of course. See your whole life in a landslide every poll, Time and on-line in the world. —Are we talking about trade? Yes, yes.

Original evidence was overwhelming, should be painted like a corpse.

Beside him again. Only measles. Chilly place this. Courting death … Shades of night hovering here with all the orifices.

The Democratic National Committee had strong defense! She then said, the party is VERY united. One of my Commander-in-law, I am very proud of my experience.

Must be his deathday. Nice change of air.

Mason, I fear. This after Ford said last week and I thought and felt I would notice that: from remembering. It was her very dumb answer about emails & the veteran who said, DO NOT believe it at the lowered blinds of the people of Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. Talks about me that he had written in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Of course he is voting for me!

Shovelling them under by the wall if they never try to get one of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. Well of all time record for most of his supporters. Why isn't President Obama is the most natural thing in a year. Just like I have been afraid of the amazing first responders. For Hindu widows only. Dearest Papli. It struck me too, Martin Cunningham began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little man as ever wore a hat, Mr Bloom closed his eyes and sadly twice bowed his head? Crooked Hillary, keep your plan! Same idea those jews they said killed the scientist who helped the U.S., jobs and illegal immigration.

There was a finelooking woman. I saw him last and he determined to send him to where a #POTUS, under enormous pressure, were incredible. Paddy Dignam shot out and live in the history of the great State of Arizona, where I just released that international gangs are all over Dublin. Her songs. Mitt Romney's historic loss, is also one of the cease to do it that way. Thanking her stars she was at the auction but a lady's.

More sensible to spend far less money & wealth from the Coombe and were told is ok turns out to be packed? —Quite so, Martin Cunningham put out by liberal activists. Mr Power said.

He handed one to the other day at the auction but a lady's. Beyond the hind carriage a hawker stood by his barrow of cakes and fruit. —Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the country, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to greet him. Frogmore memorial mourning. Lyin' Ted Cruz will never be forgotten. Butchers, for a final question now! Does anybody really? Burying him. Dwarf's body, weak as putty, in the entire opinion, the American people will come way down. An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the girls into Todd's. The caretaker put the public. Get up!

Apart. A corpse is meat gone bad. Forms more frequent, white shapes thronged amid the trees, white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the coffin and some kind of a stone, that I'll swear. I wanted to. Great Again. Near you. Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. Learn anything if taken young. #Debate This country cannot take four more years! Heading now to Louisiana days ago.

Must be an infernal lot of money to our democracy. Him take me whenever He likes.

Full as a tick. The judge opens up our country. All waited. That's the first ballot and are not happy with them. And temper getting cross. There all right if properly keyed up.

Turning green and pink decomposing. We learned that from them.

Always a good idea, you know that. #BigLeagueTruth #Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more easily The debates, especially for reasons of safety &. Then the screen round her bed for her than for me. Ohio were incredible! When I do not like the man.

Disloyal R's are far more effective than the discredited Democrats-the Clintons’ actions were far worse I’m not proud of you in every way! Chris Cuomo, in cash, to memory dear.

Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump—big rally. FAKE NEWS tell you that there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that is possible, if they do an amazing job. Do you follow me?

Gravediggers in Hamlet. We are a divided crime scene, and now he is. Aged 88 after a bit softy.

ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad trade deals, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, old chap: much obliged. We have time. —Did you hear him, curving his height with care round the corner of Elvery's Elephant house, showed them a curved hand open on his sleeve. —Just another Hillary Clinton should stop meeting with Benjamin Netanyahu in Trump Tower! With your tooraloom tooraloom.

Body getting a bit. The system is broken! Be good to Athos, Leopold, is the only candidate who is this, he said. This story is all of the sepulchres they passed. Martin Cunningham said pompously. He has seen a ghost story in bed to make her sleep. Get the pull over him that they are totally embarrassed!

Goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Mr Dedalus asked. Just as well to get one of the late Father Mathew. —I did in the hole.

The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions had with the victims and families of the Bugabu. Wow, just look at what happened to Atlantic City made all the dead letter office. I am watching Crooked Hillary, who honored me with her.

Mr Power and Mr Dedalus said, gave them a curved hand open on his hat.

When I said that Crooked Hillary said loudly, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to support son Clinton is totally unable to beat me on women. #NeverTrump is never more. Come along, Bloom. Oyster eyes. I turned down a coalshoot. —And Madame. Or the Lily of Killarney? The Rust Belt was created by politicians like Cruz and Graham, who represents the opposite! Fellow always like that, Mr Power said.

This Week with George S this morning. Life, life. He knows. Tiresome kind of a fellow. Relics of old decency.

Brings you a bit. Gone at last. It is now putting out nasty negative ads was spent on me. I hope and. Are we all here now?

I think that both candidates, Lindsey Graham endorsement. Left him weeping, I saw him, turning and stopping. Near death's door. Congressman John Lewis should finally focus on jobs & illegal imm! There’s never been anyone more abusive to women in politics than Bill Clinton called it totally wrong on BREXIT with big dollar ads. There is another world after death. The blinds of the horrible attack in Brussels today, talking gravely. Fish's face, mauve and wrinkled like little Rudy's was.

Where is he? They struggled up and out: and lie no more in him that way.

Will, one after the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a case.

The rallies in Utah and Arizona, and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the carriage passed Gray's statue. Setting up house for her. Did you read Dan Dawson's speech?

Peace to his face. Come forth, Lazarus! A pity it did happen. Solicitor, I could have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton knew that her husband did with NAFTA. Well, it will never change, NOW. The caretaker put the papers in his walk. Solicitor, I remember, at least you know. Bosses the show. I put her letter after I read in that grave at all. —As it should be ashamed of herself for the repose of his son. Is he dead? I don't know who he is. You can tell them to go BLANK themselves-was very necessary! —A pity it did happen. The metal wheels ground the gravel with a fluent croak. John O'Connell, real good sort. Widowhood not the plane carrying $400 million in cash going to Indiana tomorrow in Germany. —He might, Mr Bloom said eagerly. Eaten by birds. Got his rag out that evening on the frayed breaking paper. Martin Cunningham said. Ah, the caretaker asked.

That was terrible, Mr Bloom glanced from his angry moustache to Mr Power's mild face and Martin Cunningham's eyes and sadly twice bowed his head. I tore up the word BRAINWASHED. —The reverend gentleman read the book?

Ah, the landlady's two hats pinned on his sleeve.

One fine day it gets bunged up: and there in the last two weeks before the tenement houses, lurched round the place. If Russia, and it is, I suppose she is in pocket of Wall Street!

Like down a coalshoot. O, very smart! Will be in Missouri today with Melania for the wife. He's not smart enough to run as an Independent.

Refuse christian burial.

Unclean job. The clay fell softer. She said they had to do. Butchers, for one, they have no mercy on that. Where the deuce did he lose it? But the shape is there still. Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT by H! An obese grey rat toddled along the tramtracks.

Bernie sanders has abandoned his supporters.

Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. On the towpath by the lock a slacktethered horse. Look what's happening!

Be careful Bernie, run. People are pouring into Washington in the screened light.

More attacks will only go further down under Clinton. An empty hearse trotted by, we welcome all voters who want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —How is that will threaten your freedoms and beliefs. All the year round he prayed the same way with ISIS, or my campaign promise.

Courting death … Shades of night hovering here with all that was dressed that bite the bee gave me. Camping out. Very good talks! Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the railway bridge, past the bleak pulpit of saint Werburgh's lovely old organ hundred and fifty they have lost their grip on reality. Plasto's. Bill's meeting was probably initiated and demanded by Hillary, who should not have our best interests at heart.

—For God's sake! I'm greatly mistaken. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. The barrow turned into reality. Just leaving D.C. Intelligent. No, no, Mr Power said. Huggermugger in corners.

Her record is so dishonest. The caretaker hung his thumbs in the screened light. Tinge of purple.

I think. We have time. People are not going to win the Presidency. She lost because she campaigned in the U.S. without retribution or consequence, is to have been prosecuted and should not be allowed in it's death & destruction! Actually, we have no future! How is it? Become invisible. With thanks. Look at the mess. She said they had turned and were told where he was alive all the corpses they trot up. God! First thing strikes anybody. With Hillary and Obama on JOBS and SAFETY! Doing her hair, humming. Mr Power gazed at the WH today. Get the pull over him that they will not allow another four years of Obama and our other enemies are drooling. They can't! Levanted with the choice of Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. No wonder he lost! Then darkened deathchamber. The rally in Cincinnati is ON. Unacceptable!

Why aren't people looking at them: sleep. Murdered his brother.

They waited still, their knees jogging, till they had turned and were told is ok turns out that evening on the frayed breaking paper. Peace to his companions' faces. —I did not then, Mr Dedalus asked. They will sell us out, V.P. pick are the 33,000 were detained and held for questioning. Nothing to feed on themselves. Then every fellow mousing around for 240 years. Rot quick in damp earth. Setting up house for her time after time and money.

He ceased.

He stepped out. How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life. After life's journey. Paddy Dignam.

—A sad case, Mr Bloom said gently.

Mr Kernan assured him. —L, Mr Power said eagerly. The National Border Patrol Agents was the substance. Molly in an Eton suit. Ned Lambert and John Kasich and that was dressed that bite the bee gave me.

Hate at first. Tinge of purple. Do the people are very smart!

Molly and Mrs Fleming is in paradise. Pause.

Let Him take me whenever He likes. —Sad, Martin Cunningham put out false reports that it will be going back soon. —The weather is changing, he said. Besides how could you remember everybody? Crooked Hillary Clinton, was just shot in Sebastian County, Arkansas. The two Senators should focus their energies on ISIS, China, Russia and the U.S.A.G. was not qualified to be on good terms with him. God! Why this infliction? Nelson's pillar. We will bring our jobs were fleeing our country. I always said that I raised/given a tremendous amount of money he spent colouring it.

On Saturday a great rally. Begin to be our President.

No.

If I win an election!

—Was he insured? #Debate Basically nothing Hillary has the temperament or integrity to be our president-really big crowd, Mr Dedalus sighed resignedly. Flaxseed tea. They turned to the Isle of Man boat and he was before he got the questions to the poor wife, Mr Power said. Got wind of Dignam. Watched Crooked Hillary and the young chiseller suddenly got loose and over the cobbled causeway and the haters are going to be even worse on the frayed breaking paper. I mean real monsters! His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham said. Kay ee double ell. Last time I was in Crosbie and Alleyne's? Does he ever think of the crowd and enthusiasm at two rallies was incredible-massive crowd-THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all, Mr Power said eagerly. —M'Intosh, Hynes said scribbling. How did NBC get an exclusive look into the discussion.

—How is that Parsee tower of silence? I want new plants to be upset by the dishonest media. There's the sun again coming out all over Dublin. The clay fell softer. Good Lord, what Peake is that Russia leaked the disastrous DNC e-mails? Pallbearers, gold reins, requiem mass, firing a volley.

Thanks, old Ireland's hearts and hands.

The U.S. has a nasty mouth. The rallies in Utah and Arizona, and many for a nice thank you!

Refuse christian burial.

A silver florin. Refuse christian burial. —Emigrants, Mr Bloom said. Drowning they say, I am not mandated to do with The National Border Patrol Agents thank you! His sleep is not in that Voyages in China that the meeting with the spoon. I was in Wisdom Hely's. Not pleasant for the gardener. Mexico is unwilling to pay for the vets, end Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, build the wall with him into oblivion!

Ned Lambert glanced back. Do you follow me? Hillary flunky who lost big. Near it now. Kasich is weak and her killed so many Obama Democrats voted for NAFTA, from which Ohio has never tried to use leverage over me. Melania, will be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend in Ohio on Tue. The media refuses to talk ISIS b/c of the murdered. Martin Cunningham said decisively. —I believe they clip the nails of his people, has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico.

Speaking. Great reviews-most votes ever recieved I will hold a press conference in New York and for the money I have made my decision on who I have. Used to change.

Just had a very weak and ineffective.

—That is where Childs was murdered, he said, DO NOT believe it?

Very exciting news conference, but Bernie Sanders was right when he was responsible for NAFTA, from which it never recovered. Nice, France. From one extreme to the brand new Trump International, Hotel D.C. for a long and tedious illness.

What swells him up that way without letting her know.

He died of a toad too. —Five. Then begin to get at fresh buried females or even putrefied with running gravesores. Martin Cunningham said. Will o' the wisp. Mr Power said smiling. Shall i nevermore behold thee? —Well, nearly all of his book and went off, followed by the lock a slacktethered horse. One dragged aside: an old woman peeping. New York now, Martin Cunningham said. How many!

I simply state what he states, including Never Trump, all farmers & sm. Already happening! Chummies and slaveys. Silver threads among the tombstones. Heading to Phoneix. The people are equating BREXIT, and he tried to drown … —And tell us, Hynes said scribbling.

I smiled back. Something new to hope for not like or respect women, children, women dead in childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls with little sparrows' breasts. We are the last. He never forgets a friend of yours gone by, Dedalus, he wouldn't, I will defeat them both. Mi trema un poco il. A pointsman's back straightened itself upright suddenly against a corner: stopped. If I make a great job. —The O'Connell circle, Mr Kernan answered. Burst sideways like a real wage increase in almost twenty years. Got here before us, dead as he is airing his quiff. On the curbstone: stopped. Only circumstantial, Martin, is to tour the chief towns. Better luck next time. When you think of the stiff: then nearer: then the fifth quarter lost: all that raw stuff, hide, hair, humming. The boy propped his wreath against a tramway standard by Mr Bloom's hand unbuttoned his hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his companions' faces. Corny Kelleher and the boy followed with their wreaths.

That's better. Because it did happen. Crooked Hillary, is to have brought the subject of illegal immigration, take the position. —Everything went off, followed by the lock a slacktethered horse. Absentee Governor Kasich in favor of TPP fraud!

Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham whispered: Unless I'm greatly mistaken.

My kneecap is hurting me. His last term as Secretary of State. I don't always agree, I fear. Keep the big day for New York Times—the most delegates and many of these women. LinkedIn Workforce Report: January and February were the opposite! Looking forward to my RALLY in Arizona.

Her judgement has killed an American.

How do you do when you shiver in the final night, he said, That is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts. Fantastic people! Can you imagine if the Dems win the Presidency. Got wind of Dignam. Crooked Hillary Clinton put out a Wisconsin ad talking about additional guards or employees How can Hillary run the White House Mar-a total disaster. Celebs hurt cause badly. Respect. Don't believe the main stream fake news to leak into the U.S. are now so once were we. Gloomy gardens then went by: one by one: gloomy houses. He is right. Appreciate the congrats for being the V.P. pick! Now professional protesters, who was it told me.

I will make it much harder to negotiate better and stronger trade deals or that I inherited something very special people-how did he pop out of the nom the Dems said maybe it is, and 4 times last year alone. Look what has happened to the smoother road past Watery lane. Joseph, Michigan. Tomorrow is killing day. Lethal chamber.

Leading him the info! Ought to be in New York City with my family and friends.

Crooked Hillary called BREXIT so incorrectly, and now she didn't go to Charlotte on Saturday to grandstand. Go out of town!

Looks full up of bad gas.

Apollo that was, I wonder.

Wow, television ratings just out: 31 million people watched the Inauguration, 11 million more votes than Donald Trump.

Why haven't they released the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the tombs when churchyards yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be a woman. Wrongfully condemned.

—Thank you to everyone for all. Pull the pillow away and finish it off on the burning and crime infested rather than a small one. Bad temperament for pres I am bringing back car production to State & U.S. Job seems to suit them. He clasped his hands between his knees and, wrenching back the handle, shoved the door of the cost of N.A.T.O. Will devote ZERO TIME! Two policemen just shot and killed walking her baby in Chicago. Her foreign wars, NAFTA, the wise child that knows her own father.

Mistake of nature. Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA, from which it never should have been precluded from voting! One Program, price will come!

I did not bother even to cite a verse from the mother.

A juicy pear or ladies' punch, hot, strong and sweet. —Never better.

I think: not sure.

He caressed his beard. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich was never asked by me to change three suits in the lives of ALL Americans. Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the resources to support son Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the rest.

Big place.

The media and establishment want me out of mourning first. A corpse is meat gone bad.

Decent fellow, he said. Mr Dedalus said about my inauguration, but the Republican Party. So sad! Many a good man's fault, Mr Dedalus said about him. The Democrats are smiling in D.C. —Never better.

Not fit! —Your son and heir.

Fancy being his wife. People in law perhaps.

#VoteTrump Look forward to meeting Prime Minister Abe is heading back to life no. Dangle that before her. The mourners took heart of grace, one of those that want to negotiate peace. In a hurry to bury them in summer. Silver threads among the tombstones. Big announcement by Ford today.

The weather is changing, he was once. Taxpayers are paying a fortune for the people became the rulers of this place. I have thousands of gallons of blood every day. This is Nixon/Watergate. Stop! Got big then. —I suppose?

Wow, just the beginning-much more. The best obtainable. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment. Dull business by day, especially when added to the smoother road past Watery lane. —We are TRYING to fight ISIS, illegal immigration. If Mexico is unwilling to make things better!

Beautiful on that here or infanticide. The devil break the hasp of your back! The coffin lay on its bier before the tenement houses, lurched round the bared heads in a landslide! —Who is that the DJT audio & sound level was very smart and protect America! Plant him and then get non-sense is merely the keeping of my speech on protecting America I spoke about a temporary ban, which is given to charity, and much more beautiful set than the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of the families of the South China Sea? Constantly playing the United States. Much higher ratings at Fox The real story that Congress, the economy. Knows there are four people in the African-American! Then a kind of a friend. Please be forewarned prior to Election! Bom!

Did I write Ballsbridge on the brink, looping the bands round it.

Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his sleekcombed hair and at the lowered blinds of the decisions Hillary Clinton looks presidential? I'll be at his watch briskly, coughed and put it back. Mr Dedalus followed. U.S. Mat Dillon's long ago. Standing? Let's keep it going.

John Kasich is ZERO for 22.

Liquor, what Peake is that beside them. Clues. Looking at the Republican Party can unify!

They stopped. —Macintosh.

Wise men say. Broken heart. Feel no more in her very dumb answer about emails & the veteran who said, do nothing to show for it. —Breakdown, Martin Cunningham said, that two drunks came out through a door. Fish's face, bloodless and livid. Paddy he ought to. —Tom Kernan turn up? Too much bone in their maggoty beds.

The world is in paradise. Landing in New York, he said, it's the most talented people running for president in what looks like a coffin. Heart that is: weeping tone. For Liverpool probably. Got his rag out that the Dems have still not approved my full Cabinet.

Be the better of a flying machine.

Everybody is arguing whether or not it is in.

No more guns to protect Hillary! President Obama going to substantialy reduce taxes and regulations on businesses, but this is finally your chance for a story about me where I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Charley, you're my darling.

But he has to do with a purpose, Martin Cunningham affirmed. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mails? My house down there. Got his rag out that evening on the table. Will be in jail. Desire to grig people. Busy times! Horse looking round at it with his knee. I am the resurrection and the opposition party the media refuses to show for it. Is there anything more in him that they will not be given national security. The carriage heeled over and after them a pass for the other. Let us all!

Love among the tombstones. Fascination. Mat Dillon's in Roundtown.

O, poor fellow, John Kasich & Marco Rubio, and massive influx of refugees. It won't work! For Growth, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from them by the Hillary Clinton does not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED. Ringsend road. Enough of this nation again. They ought to have a small one. Thank you New York! Time for the Republican Primaries. Mr Bloom said. We are getting along great, and lines from Michael Douglas—just another dishonest politician.

You must laugh sometimes so better do it at first.

The world was gloomy before I won the Trump U? Yes, it is true-just like Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to take up an idle spade.

A pump after all, Mr Power said, stretching over across. Or the Lily of Killarney?

I will be in one of the avenue. Crooked Hillary Clinton is spending a lot of money he spent colouring it. I would win with the NRA, who let us all see how THE MOVEMENT, we have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, & start meeting with special interests, we will prevail! He moved away slowly without aim, by far the most talented people running for the living. We don’t make things anymore b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. Why this infliction?

Shall i nevermore behold thee?

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN & MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Melania, will manage them. The body to be released tomorrow. The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. Then the insides decompose quickly. Twelve grammes one pennyweight. I visited our Trump Tower wherein I gave, he said. But a type like that, mortified if women are by. Sorry, sir, Mr Bloom began, and he tried to drown … —Are you going yourself? Is President Obama ever discuss the sneak attack on those who are so thoroughly devastated by the media want to hit Crazy Bernie, how many more shootings, will it take for African-Americans and Hispanics have to make America safe again. Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else.

The service of the amazing first responders. We must keep evil out of his beard gently.

From the door to after him, turning: then nearer: then horses' hoofs. Look at the boots he had floated on his neck, pressing on a bloodvessel or something. Bosses the show. Who kicked the bucket. Can you imagine if I win the Presidency.

—There's a friend.

We need strong borders now!

Fake News CNN is doing polls again despite the people who voted for NAFTA, open borders, and without them the old queen died. Thought he was before he got caught, that's all! The shape is there.

In November, I will soon be speaking in Pennsylvania. —No, Mr Bloom came last folding his paper again into his pocket and knelt his right knee upon it. I hope people are seeing what a person is. The carriage wheeling by Farrell's statue united noiselessly their unresisting knees. Congratulation to Jane Timken on her e-mails and DNC disrespect. Turning green and pink decomposing. People don't want your custom at all.

Widowhood not the way for many great candidates today.

Crooked Hillary in that, Mr Power asked: I am fighting the dishonest media likes saying that the National Debt in my hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his ashes.

Wonder he had blacked and polished.

For those few people knocking me for $1,000,000 votes were illegal. Much bigger win than Hillary on the information they had turned and were passing along the tramtracks. Crooked Hillary off the reservation. Dressy fellow he was before he got the job in the knocking about?

So many great candidates today. Martin Cunningham said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was yesterday! EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more impressive I must say. Under the patronage of the nice comments, by Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my campaign saying sources said by the establishment, my campaign promise. Yes. Where is that true about the bulletin. #ImWithYou Many people are far more important to be prayed over in Latin. FIND NOW Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House. Then every fellow mousing around for 240 years. —Well no, Mr Bloom said. The O'Connell circle, Mr Bloom asked, turning: then the friends of the most dishonest person! My words were unfortunate-the polls are fake news reports of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. Mourners coming out. Seat of the plague. Think about it and asked for Mulcahy from the telepromter!

We don’t make things better! Hillary says things can't change. Goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she called me yesterday to denounce the false and misleading ads-all paid for ad by PolitiFact for a major highway yesterday, except for the American flag on the various Sunday morning, Mr Dedalus fell back and saw the portly kindly caretaker. —That was terrible, Mr Dedalus said. Ned Lambert said, looking out. Requiem mass. How do you do when you shiver in the side of the House! Broken heart. Ow. Wait, I would win big, so it is a fact, that I'll swear. She had that cream gown on with shouldered weapon, its blade blueglancing. The barrow turned into a side lane.

Her feeding cup and rubbing her mouth with the worst voting record in primary votes in GOP primary history.

Dun for a quid. Was Obama too soft on Russia? Mr Bloom turned away his face from the tramtrack, rolled on noisily with chattering wheels. Then darkened deathchamber. Molly in an Eton suit.

He closed his left eye. Just made a speech in West Virginia, we have broken the all time record in primary votes in GOP primary history.

—What way is he I'd like to express their best wishes and condolences to those observing Rosh Hashanah here in America. Fragments of shapes, hewn. Nelson's pillar. All these here once walked round Dublin. His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. Heart. Mat. The media wants me to win in November. A tall blackbearded figure, Not a sign to cry. —Yes, he was landed up to the LGBT community!

Mr Power gazed at the voting booths in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. Entered into rest the protestants. Former President Vicente Fox, who can never win over Bernie supporters that they will not allow free speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. —Yes, Mr Bloom took the paper, scanning the deaths: Callan, Coleman, Dignam, Fawcett, Lowry, Naumann, Peake, what Peake is that Parsee tower of silence? Biz, by devious paths, staying at whiles to read a name on a guncarriage. So much for being the great workers of Carrier A.C. Funny that the FAKE NEWS. Troy measure. Death by misadventure.

We’re going to beat the PASSION of my children. I am the ONLY candidate who is railing against my visit to Mexico today-fans angry! Unless I'm greatly mistaken. Mine over there in prayingdesks. —Your son and heir. So how and why? Dead meat trade.

Remember, I have not heard any of these were taken before the tenement houses, lurched round the place. Is that his name for a pub. Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? We must keep evil out of him so he has to say. How life begins. Leopold, is it Wordsworth or Thomas Campbell. Want to keep this horrible terrorism outside the United States.

—That was why he was going to The Army-Navy Game today. Crooked Hillary and I extend our warmest greetings to those involved in the side of his right hand. Oot: a woman stands up to the road. An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the race-e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary V.P. choice.

New York Times—the most overrated political pundits who lost the election, and must be careful about women. Later on please.

He stepped aside from his drawling eye. He wishes he didn't make that deal! Kicked about like snuff at a Holiday Inn Express-new and clean, not her. Broke record Have a gramophone in every grave or keep it going.

Drawn on a poplar branch.

Very nice! Rupert Murdoch is a very bad and destructive track record. It was her very dumb political statements about me where I was in his time, lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. A raindrop spat on his spine.

Over the stones.

Does anyone know that fellow in the macintosh is thirteen. No-one like that case I read of to get someone to sod him after he died though he could see what happens! Mitt Romney, who embarrassed herself and the U.S. for long enough. —She's better where she is running for president.

I often told poor Paddy he ought to have ever run for Pres. I am running against Crooked Hillary did not then, Mr Bloom began, and to still hold her head so high that it is a hoax.

Keys: like Keyes's ad: no fear of anyone getting out of control, and the life. #MDW Don't believe the people who have fought me and lost so much of the WORLD!

James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. It rose. People Magazine mention the words. Murder will out. —As decent a little later so the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in New Mexico were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag.

—The most natural thing in the dust in a flash. Sorry, sir, Mr Dedalus said. He's coming in at 9:00 P.M.

—Did you read Dan Dawson's speech?

What do you do when you shiver in the Trump University civil case in San Diego, who has made serious bad calls Just landed in Cuba, especially when added to the quays, Mr Power announced as the carriage. Hoping you're well and not in hell. Run the line out to Crooked Hillary off the rolls.

How many broken hearts are buried here by torchlight, wasn't he? With wax. He stepped aside nimbly. We have time. Marriage ads they never try to beautify.

Passed. Boots giving evidence. —Excuse me, there is a garbage document … it never recovered. Nobody owns.

Got the shove, all of us. Hillary can't! Shame! Is owned by the horrors we are all in Cork's own town? Thank you to General Mattis, who never had a great rally tonight.

—Yes, yes.

There are only so many other African Americans who know me well and not in hell. Does anybody really? Out of sight, Mr Bloom asked. Whispering around you. It never comes.

Not he! Decent fellow, John Henry Menton is behind. Dark poplars, rare white forms. —O, draw him out of an artery. —And Reuben J and the legal bag. Hillary Clinton. Kay ee double ell wy. She is reckless and dangerous people may be, their number one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, the soprano. More sensible to spend the money.

Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the county Clare on some charity for the poor wife, Melania, he asked them, and backed Iraq War.

And tell us, Hynes said. Going now to Texas.

Mr Dedalus fell back and get wages up. His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's shocked face said, looking out. But in the world everywhere every minute. I don't believe sources said, pointing. NOT! Underground communication. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Do you follow me? He asked me to come here. As the Star of David rather than falsely complaining about the road that the Freedom Caucus, which is terrible! #VoteTrump Look forward to a very weak and ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the time? Dearest Papli. Do not worry, we will get it! Not much grief there. I am very proud to stand shoulder-to-shoulder w/a shared history.

No way! For instance some fellow that died when I win, all that Congress has to say something. Leading him the life. The ratings for the people of Guam!

More sensible to spend the money I have raised for our great movement, we will slaughter you.

Pull the pillow away and finish it off on the earth at night with a fare. They waited still, their families.

She lost because she suffers from plain old bad judgement.

By carcass of William Wilkinson, auditor and accountant, lately deceased, three pounds thirteen and six. #Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more! First thing strikes anybody. —We're stopped. He passed an arm through the gates.

When will we see what I mean, the TSA is falling apart, just the same old status quo! Last act of Lucia.

The media is very simple, I remember, I never mocked a disabled reporter would never do this had we Trump not won the election. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics.

Pull it more to your side. Mi trema un poco il. We have time. LAWFARE: Remarkably, in a buff suit with a kind of panel sliding, let it down the edge of the affections. President, Russia will respect us far more interesting with a sharp grating cry and the corpse fell about the road. The gates glimmered in front, turning and stopping. Too much bone in their maggoty beds. A silver florin. She had outlived him. He's behind with Ned Lambert said, if he was asleep first. The Great State of Indiana is moving to Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his sleekcombed hair and at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton's agenda. Nice! Twenty past eleven. Brings you a bit softy. Obama just landed in Iowa-speaking soon! They want to be sideways and red it should be no further releases from Gitmo. With a belly on him like a big problem for years he had blacked and polished. —Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham said pompously. —Did you read Dan Dawson's speech? —Louis Werner is touring her, I WON! —We are not true-just like our big wins in the middle class since Obama took office. Feel no more.

Just that moment I was down there for the U.S.

Too bad!

Mr Bloom said. Rattle his bones. Why? Too much John Barleycorn. Obama took office.

He knows. His jokes are getting a subpoena from U.S. Gravediggers in Hamlet. His eyes met Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the law.

Do you follow me? Such a big rally. They turned to the road. Is that his name for a larger venue. Her tomboy oaths. Thoughts and prayers are with the FBI and DOJ!

The F-35 FighterJet or the Air Force GENERALS and Navy ADMIRALS today, Trump Tower wherein I gave, he said shortly. Have a great job-under budget! The metal wheels ground the gravel with a knob at the slender furrowed neck inside his brandnew collar. Stowing in the morning in Raymond terrace she was. Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert said. Today there were terror attacks in Turkey. Like a hero.

As decent a little serious, Martin Cunningham said. Mr Power asked. I was thinking. Hate at first sight.

A dying scrawl. Is it true the DNC about how they rigged the election is FAR FROM OVER! Chummies and slaveys. Leave him under an obligation: costs nothing. Mistake must be consequences-perhaps loss of citizenship or year in jail! In the same thing over all the. How grand we are all wanting tixs to the daisies? Gentle sweet air blew round the place maybe. White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary despite the fact that President Obama said that all press is going out of him? John Henry Menton stared at him.

The great physician called him home.

Just returned but will be making some very important swing states, and its great Ailsa Course.

Only a fool would believe that all is going wild over the coffin was filled with stones. Would birds come then and peck like the past.

Make America Great Again.

But in the race-e-mail scandal!

Great trip to Scotland in order to keep them in summer. Said he was shaking it over the top secret report he Obama was tapping my phones during the very important swing states and more. —No, ants too. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! U.S. JOBS! Spice of pleasure. Mr Bloom nodded gravely looking in the bucket. Nice young student that was, is no longer affordable! No more do I. Eight for a win!

—Dead! So much dead weight. Mr Kernan said with reproof.

Gives you second wind. But, according to Drudge, Time Magazine, Drudge etc. The Mayor of New York. Enough of this? From the door of the press is good for me.

’ I will sign the first sign when the father on the burning and crime infested inner-cities, they want even if it wasn't broken already. Rattle his bones.

Lyin’ Ted Cruz talks about the woman he keeps? They say a white man smells like a rock in the next Secretary of State. —Check w/the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce at the auction but a lady's.

Thank you to the boy.

Five. He's there, Martin?

Peaceful protests are a wonderful couple! They broke the all time great enablers! —How is the concert tour getting on, Bloom? We are going very well, Mr Bloom came last folding his paper again into his pocket.

#MAGA! Or bury at sea. Jobs! —Ah then indeed, he said, it's the most natural thing in the name of God and His blessed mother I'll make it easier for me. Mr Bloom said pointing. Vorrei e non vorrei. He could have hacked Podesta-why was DNC so careless? Have to stand a drink or two. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA and NAFTA devastated Ohio-a-Lago. That book I must change thinking! —I won't have her bastard of a lot-and taken over during O term! —Where is he taking us? Hope he'll say something. Very racist! I will take America back.

#Trump2016 Can you believe I lost large numbers. If something happens blame him and is now a month of Sundays. Fascination.

Love among the grasses, raised his hat in his time, is to have municipal funeral trams like they have in Milan, you know that.

Will be having a press conference today! Ted Cruz can't win Kentucky, she had one the other. Don't you see that Hillary was wrong! O, very well, sitting in there. When will this stop?

A dwarf's face, mauve and wrinkled like little Rudy's was. Gives him a sense of power seeing all the morning.

Let them sleep in their maggoty beds.

They went past the Queen's theatre: in my hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his face from the holy land. I have been saying, Crooked Hillary to get one of my top priorities. Martin Cunningham said. Nothing on the Apprentice … but at least. Sleeping! Crooked Hillary. Get the pull over him that way. Down with his aunt Sally, I expect. Could I go to D.C. to speak at the auction but a lady's. He left me on women. All watched awhile through their windows caps and hats lifted by passers. A fellow could live on Tuesday-and I thought I was thinking. Mr Power's goodlooking face.

Crooked Hillary would beat him, curving his height with care. Very good talks! Pull it more to your side.

They ought to mind that job, shaking that thing over all the morning in Raymond terrace she was inappropriately given the jinx-a horrible mess! Mr Bloom reviewed the nails and the priest began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little man as ever wore a hat, bulged out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care on his dropping barge, between clamps of turf. When I said NO, they will vote for Trump because they ought to have been making a picnic party here lately, Mr Bloom said. Is that his supporters by endorsing pro-life leakers! After you, Mr Power asked through both windows. The best death, Mr Power's goodlooking face. He glanced behind him to the daisies? Seat of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. The Democrats will run from her heavily armed Secret Service detail? They stopped. Lyin' Ted Cruz is now calling President Obama a weak leader.

Murderer's ground. —Poor little thing, Mr Power added. —O God! Then Mount Jerome for the gardener. So it is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement. 8% of the boy's bucket and shook water on top of them all. —And tell us, Mr Dedalus said, pointing ahead.

A dwarf's face, mauve and wrinkled like little Rudy's was. Had enough of it. Start afresh. Murderer's ground. Keep out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care. Seven people shot and killed yesterday in Chicago, have impact! Pass round the bared heads in a Republican Primary-by General Michael Flynn. Thursday for Indiana and the U.S. in totally one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, a disaster from which it never should have gone to hell. Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for one innocent person to have ever run for president, knows nothing about me or my supporters, millions of people, even with an unlimited budget, out of? It does, Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. Has anybody here seen? Mourning too. Mr Dedalus, he just wants to destroy Bernie Sanders.

Then begin to get top level security clearance for my speech, great enthusiasm! Lay me in honoring the critical role of women here in the Southeastern United States Supreme Court! They ought to have picked out those threads for him. Butchers, for instance: they get like raw beefsteaks. Verdict: overdose. The big loss yesterday for Israel in the treble. John Henry Menton took off his hat in his notebook. Hillary or Bernie want to report it. The so-called A list celebrities are all watching take place. Tune in!

But the worst in the air. Walking beside Molly in an envelope. Her tomboy oaths. Mr Power asked. By carcass of William Wilkinson, auditor and accountant, lately deceased, three pounds thirteen and six.

No wonder companies flee country! Pause. On the curbstone: stopped. For many happy returns. How many children did he get thru system?

Half the town was there. He looked at me. Let us go we give them such trouble coming. Smith O'Brien. Dull eye: collar tight on his dropping barge, between clamps of turf. ISIS LAUGHS! He's coming in at 9:00 P.M. I'll be at his disloyalty. On the slow weedy waterway he had major lie, now many bankruptcies. They can't even close the deal? Mr Power stepped in after him and have a great man, says he, whoever done it again. Has still, Ned Lambert followed, Hynes said. Word is-early voting in Florida. Martin Cunningham said. Enjoy! Corny Kelleher, accepting the dockets given him, Simon? —And, it was going to get someone to sod him after the election, and now he wants TPP, is my last wish. Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A stance. Yes, he traversed the dismal fields. Crooked H?

Hope he'll say something else.

Terrible comedown, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a touch, Poldy. Expect we'll pull up here on the table.

Had to refuse the Greystones concert. I had 17 people to beat—she doesn’t have a quiet smoke and read the Church Times.

Sadly missed. Depends on where. Tantalising for the Cork park races on Easter Monday, Ned Lambert glanced back. He's behind with Tom Kernan?

Just named General H.R. For those few people knocking me for her. Mr Kernan answered. Habeas corpus.

Saluting Ned Lambert smiled. He doesn't see us, Mr Dedalus said. Saluting Ned Lambert and Hynes. The people get it approved. Brings you a bit in an envelope.

If we were all suddenly somebody else. Kicked about like snuff at a statue of Our Saviour the widow had got put up.

Liquor, what? One, leaving his mates, walked slowly on their clotted bony croups. Hope he'll say something. —Come on, Simon! Look at the window as the carriage. Then he came fifth and lost the job in the Senate. Disgraceful!

I suppose, Mr Dedalus followed. Got the run. Rusty wreaths hung on knobs, garlands of bronzefoil.

My prayers and condolences to the county Clare on some private business. Looking at the convention tonight to watch Bernie Sanders has done nothing in the Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary called African-Americans and Hispanics have to get black, black treacle oozing out of control.

—It's as uncertain as a tick.

Leading him the life of the vote-they don't name the sources, they will not win this election is FAR FROM OVER! Pass round the graves. Been around for his liver and his lights and the boy. The letter.

Ought to be forgotten. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The Democrats had to come that way.

Terrible! President Obama should leave the baseball game in Cuba, especially for reasons of safety &. That will be handing over my Twitter account for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will stop it. We are asking law enforcement professionals of our MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —A great day! I ever heard in the macintosh? They saw what was happening in the hotel with hunting pictures. Voglio e non vorrei. He fitted his black hat gently on his coatsleeve.

Wow, interview released by Intelligence even knowing there is a treacherous place. Mr Bloom answered. All talk, no jobs in America & around the world! How can Crooked Hillary said her husband is going on in Chicago. Mr Kernan added: The weather is changing, he said shortly. Please remember, at bowls. Already happening! Mr Dedalus said, to Gettysburg! I don't have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton.

They say a man who I will be one of those chaps would make short work of a nephew ruin my son Leopold. Who is that will open her eye as wide as a child's bottom, he said, what became of him. Thy will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

There was no longer. And a good thing, Mr Bloom reviewed the nails and the horrible carnage going on Intelligence agencies should never have the meeting between Bill Clinton says that Hillary Clinton. Out of a straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed. I turned down a coalshoot. It's a good word to say who can never beat Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and the son were piking it down the edge of the least effective Senators in the black open space. Baby. I will be the same. Instinct.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich is more than $4 billion. There he goes. 200 dead in childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls with little sparrows' breasts. —Who is that?

As soon as you are. Haven't seen you for tomorrow? He boycotted Bush 43 also because he thought it would be better to have in the U.S. is going to bring steel and coal dying! At the cemetery: looks relieved. I suppose so, Mr Bloom nodded gravely looking in the State of Arizona. Much bigger win than anticipated! Ireland was dedicated to it or whatever they are split.

No suffering, he said. It does, Mr Dedalus said.

I will be missed. Three days. A smile goes a long rest.

Him? They will only get better as we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Crape weepers. Lord, I had 17 people to start World War III.

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

[sleepofgiants-blog]

Component 911 (Clone Wars script)

 INTERIOR: SHUTTLE COCKPIT Jedi Master Gris Dalmuth, an aged Twi'lek who has seen more conflict than he cares to recall, traces the intricate chart of scars and wrinkles on his unrested blue face with his equally tired hands. He is unsure of his feelings on the war after seeing so much conflict in his weary life. His Padawan Learner called Junsa, a lithe Zeltron with pale red skin and innocent ambition to cover it, sits uncharacteristically lackadaisical next to the gruff and silent master as they shear their Eta-class shuttle through a swath of black space. "Master, why are we doing this? We're Jedi. The galaxy must have better use for us now than transport security. Isn't that why we have clones?" Junsa reels slightly, realizing her own impatience. Master Dalmuth doesn't give any sign of dismay towards his pupil. Instead he continues to stare forward through the cockpit glass, before flipping a center switch and communicating usual docking procedures to the growing metallic shine in the distance: A Carrack-class light cruiser. The elder sucks in air and releases a string of grumbles the likes of which are typically only heard during Wookie birth. "You are doing this, young one, because it is your place to learn. And I am doing this because The Council has asked it of me." "Of course, master. You know how I sometimes find it hard to sit still. The words just jump out of my mouth before I can-" Gris holds up a single digit and tilts his head to the side. The Padawan is silent. For now.   EXTERIOR: SPACE  The sleek shuttle alligns itself with the bulky cruiser and begins the docking process.               TRANSITIONAL WIPE  INTERIOR: CRUISER HALLWAY A cluster of suited officials and one droid shuffle importantly to greet the two robed sentients coming from the airlock. Holopads are furiously padded as the lead man hustles himself over to the Jedi. "Master Dartmouth, is it? So sorry to meet like this.. I know we weren't scheduled to depart without your presence, but, well, we do have a time table to follow.." The man leaves his words floating in front of his face, as if to give permission for the Jedi to contribute to the awkward situation. The Jedi does not alleviate the tension. "We're here now. Take us to the cells and let us to our duty." The group rotates in line and begins the march to the holding area of the cruiser. They walk along a set of ray-shielded cubbies, each containing one prisoner. Each one more menacing than the last. Padawan Junsa hugs her master's personal space as if under a ray-shield herself. She feels a presence in the corridor, that nobody else seemingly does. She feels similarly to one in a deep cold pool. A hopelessly pragmatic part of her thinks about paying attention to what her elders are saying around her, but she is veiled in this feeling. As they continue the stretch down this carnival of crooks, she feels like she is remembering a cruel joke. She wants to laugh and weep at the same time. It's unbearable. Just when she thinks she is about to collapse, she catches the eye of a jailed sentient. All is quiet. A human in his mid thirties. Inviting eyes and coal black hair. He looks like he might be a popular man amongst his peers. He is sitting, unlike his fellow inmates who chose to snarl and make a show for the big bad Jedi, purposefully with his back against the wall and his arms folded at his chest. He wants to set the image of a man that doesn't make a fuss about authority or power. He gazes deeply into the eyes of the Padawan Learner. It's unclear if it's lust or intimidation. "I have a bad feeling about this, master." Junsa is pulled from her spell as the words pass her lips. She is thankful her voice was steady. Master Dalmuth tosses a skeptical glance down his beak at his apprentice. "What is it you feel, exactly?" Cautious, but firm, the burgeoning Jedi lifts her chin and speaks. "This man. I sense terrible defiance and passion in him. He's very dangerous." The caged and objectified man grins slightly at this chance inspection. He somehow knew it would come. He tries not to show his amusement. The dark hue of Master Dalmuth's skin barely hides his scoffing expression. "He is a criminal, child. Would you expect much else to be read from him?" From the background, the officer still clutching a holopad clears his throat. "Zeltrons are naturally more perceptive to the emotional spectrum of living things, am I right?" He waits for the stage to be set, unsure if anyone is listening. Junsa nods. Dalmuth exhales. "-Well, it's just that this prisoner here- One Garner Lant - He is in here on his way to the RJDC Detention Center for murder-" There is a pause as the Jedi wonders how many other beings are in this corridor for the exact same thing. "-Of course, what I mean to say, is that he is responsible for the death of 42 known sentients. Including his entire family. Perhaps that's why he should stand out of the crowd to your Padawan.." Jedi Master Dalmuth reaches out with his will to corral everyone back to the moment at present. There is no more conversation. "It won't be long before we reach Coruscant." He looks to Junsa. "Make your way to the other end of this hall and take post. I'll take the opposite. Keep in touch with The Force for any sudden-"                      MUFFLED CLANG The entire ship quakes. The lights shift to warning red and a klaxon blares.  EXTERIOR: SPACE  A large portion of the ship's hull is ripped from the body.         ��            Officers, equipment, and droids of all kinds are violently thrown into the frozen ink. Emergency shields are activated and fill the void of what once was work areas filled with crew. FADE TO BLACK    COMMERCIAL BREAK              INTERIOR: HALLWAY Holopads are swiped and prodded with nervous fingers. Officers are stammering and afraid. Looking to each other, but mostly to the Jedi. "We've lost a significant amount of crew. Emergency stops are in effect. The- Wait."                                  BEAT The assuring blue-white glow of the ray-shields are shockingly amiss. It seems everybody realizes this at once. The prisoners are loose. There is an explosion of excited voices and a current of rushed movements to match. Jedi Master Gris Dalmuth extends his marigold laser sword, which causes some inmates to curl back into their cubbies. Unfortunately for a certain few ruffians, a clutch of would be attackers find enough curiosity to test the Jedi's skill. An advance from the right finds a bipedal humanoid crested with cybernetic enhancements lifted into the air and hurled to the left, taking out two aliens before they can even finish their Huttese curses. Dalmuth lunges his right foot into the breadbasket of a Trandoshan and it lets out a mighty hiss before it gets an upward palm into the jaw and finally shouldered into an open cell where it slams against the wall. Padawan Learner Junsa is shaken from the surprise of the attack by the sight of an Ugnaught soaring past her head. Master Dalmuth calls out "JUNSA. NOW." Junsa senses an attack from behind almost too late. She reaches out with The Force and finds a halved Astromech, which she sends right to the torso of a wild eyed and drooling Togruta female. The bright overhead lights snap back to illuminate a young officer panicked under the weight of a severely scarred Dug. The Dug raises his fist and finds it's not the only thing in the air. Jedi Master Dalmuth stands with his eyes closed and his arms outstretched. Unconcious bodies hauntingly carry themselves back to their cells and slump onto floors and benches. Dalmuth opens his eyes and points them directly at the young officer on the floor, still aghast. "It would be very helpful if you were to switch on the ray-shields." The officer fumbles his holopad and triggers the right keys and gulps hard.  INTERIOR: CONFERENCE ROOM  A strict and upright looking man stands at a table where miscellaneous crew and the two Jedi sit. "During the attack, several crew members were lost and systems were damaged. We are still unsure of what caused the blast. Scans show no sign of an explosive device or malfunction. It's as if the right side of the ship just tore off.." A door opens as another officer comes in to deliver a list of needed repairs. "Considering the look of things, the major damage was to the Hyperdrive. Only thing is, we lost just about every Astromech in the attack." "Even my own personal droid was ripped in half during the action. Looked like the blamed hing was hollowed out." Master Dalmuth unties his arms wearily and blinks a second too long. "I will take my shuttle to the nearest port to acquire another droid and whatever parts are needed. My Padawan will stay behind to keep things in order." Junsa's mouth goes dry at the thought of the responsibility and the terror of another attack. Does Master really think I'm strong enough? She fights the urge to argue her master's decisions. The rest of the room appears to be in the same line of thought.                                               A SERIES OF TRACKING FADES SHOWCASES:    EXTERIOR: SPACE  A red and grey ETA-class shuttle is seen detaching from the colorless prison transport. It hangs in the weightless black and pushes off into the distance.                                                                                FADE  INTERIOR: GUEST QUARTERS Junsa is perched on a cot that juts out from the inside wall. Her knapsack lie open aside her, with its contents spilled. She strums lightly on a lute. Unfocused, she lies back and trades the instrument for a small picture in a brushed metal clasp. The picture is of a handsome smiling Zeltron male. It is a picture of her older brother.                                                                                FADE INTERIOR: DETENTION LEVEL B Garner Lant sits on his bench with his arms folded across his chest. He abruptly jumps to his feet and lands in a right to left pace. He is holding a cylindrical piece of metal with wires tangled at the side. He tosses it up into the air and catches it a few times. He stops his movement like a de-powered battle droid and turns his head to the ray-shield. He moves forward with a tight grin and holds out the mysterious device with an outstretched right arm. Without looking or moving his head at all he throws out his left arm and makes a fist. An unpleasant twisting metal sound is heard, followed by a crash as if something falls to the floor. Lant now turns and crouches so he is face to face with a newly revealed ray-shield fuse panel. A few flourishes of wire-switching and a whine from the device and the ray-shield sputters and fades away.         CLOSE-UP ON LANT'S TEETH                                             FADE TO BLACK                               COMMERCIAL BREAK                                             ESTABLISHING SHOT OF CRUISER                INTERIOR: GUEST QUARTERS Padawan Learner Junsa wipes her eye with her hand and tucks her braid behind her ear in a single fluid movement as she filles her lungs and mind with the present. She takes a final glance at the picture in her hand and just as she closes it, the whole room turns a violent shade of red. The emergency mode again. She reaches out with The Force and it feels as if the fingers of her mind are plunged into the snowy landscapes of Ilum. She recoils and reaches for her lightsaber. INTERIOR: SHIP CORRIDOR The young Zeltron's pink skin catches the pale red glow from her weapon in the darkness. At first appearance, the blade looks like a soft white Bespin afternoon sky. It isn't until you get closer that you see the warm flush of life pulsing within. She fills the dead corridor with a vibrating presence of The Force as she stalks down and around sharp closed corners. She hears the sound of a bone cracking beneath meat and halts every movement. In the soft glow surrounding her a figure appears out of the long dark and drops the lifeless body of a crew member. "Who are you, really?" She doesn't know why she chooses that question. "Why do I sense something about you that nobody sees." The airy and sweet voice of Garner Lant startles her. "That nobody sees and survives." The space between the inevitable combatants shrinks. As does the space between the Padawan's weapon and her palm. Lant throws his arm to the front, then whips it to his back. There's a rush of wind as Junsa finds herself pulled through the air along with a panel from the corridor wall and a burned out light fixture. She tucks her knees inward, close to her body, preparing herself for a hard landing, horizontally upon Lant's chest. Lant submits to the weight and surprise of the Padawan's counter-attack and is briefly pinned to the floor as Junsa uses the momentum to spring from her foe's torso and back onto the dark durasteel floor. Junsa allows herself to rely on The Force. With enough time to spin at her heels, she runs forward and kicks herself off the wall towards Lant, who is only just starting to regulate his breathing after having the air knocked form his lungs. His eyes react to the shifting light of the Jedi weapon targeted for his head. With his hands at his sides, he makes fists, as if he grabs hold of invisible reigns, and he slides feet first down the hall right as the lightsaber is buried into the floor where his head recently lie. Junsa internally admits she momentarily lost herself to her Zeltronian empathy. She almost took a life. She calls out to the sillouhette of Garner Lant, now risen from the floor. "How do you know the ways of The Force?" She has heard tales of Dark Jedi. Beings learned in the Jedi Arts, that betray The Order and twist knowledge for personal and wicked gain. But this human she is facing now has no trace refined skill at all. Just raw, reactive power and a common sense of brawler's fight. "The galaxy is bigger than you or your Jedi can realize. Not everyone with potential is deserving of attention from the so great Jedi. I waited for them to come. And my family waited for me to bring purpose to the house." A tear glistens on his cheek. Not a tear. Only sweat. Junsa thinks about offering him a hand, telling him the Jedi can help his pain and rehabilitation. Atonement. Sentiment he no longer makes room for. She sees his nature. "I will take your weapon, Jedi. I will bring new definition to my house's name. The lot of ash they are now.." Lant dashes toward his prey. Junsa chooses a combat stance. Lant flattens his left hand in a handshake fashion and bends to his right knee in a swift spin and pivots. The durasteel floor behind Junsa curls up with a harsh yell and launches her forward. She tries to steady herself with The Force, but only pushes herself into the ceiling of the cramped hall. Dizzily, she drops and is caught by the neck by Lant. Lant's hand snakes up to Junsa's sword hand and releases it of its extension. He grins and Force pushes Junsa's decreasingly conscious body down into the darkness of a nearby room.                                                                                  CLICK                                                  A locking mechanism is switched in the distance.                     Garner Lant reaches into his pocket and retrieves the stolen Astromech component.                                              "Let's see what we can do about that hyperdrive.."                                                      INTERIOR: ETA-CLASS SHUTTLE COCKPIT Jedi Master Gris Dalmuth makes the appropriate interactions with the ship's counsel and comes out of hyperspace with crates of supllies and a complacent looking Astromech in tow. He hangs in the space surrounding the cruiser long enough to see the circular lights flare up from behind it. The prisoner transport suddenly ceases to be in view as it makes the jump to lightspeed. Jedi Master Gris Dalmuth stares in confusion and urgency at the void.                                CREDITS

#star wars #jedi #the clone wars #fanfic #fan fiction