#Mike Kiernan imagine

[wutheringcaterpillar]

The Student

Summary: Professor Kiernan is caught between a rock and a hard place after realizing his student's car won't start in a piss poor thunderstorm. Being the gentleman he is, he invites her over to his home, not expecting the twisted turn of events when he realizes the true story.

Warnings: Noncon, age difference, student x teacher dynamic, male SA, stalker!reader, oral (m!receiving), p in v, restraints, non-consensual photos, trauma

My very first collaboration with @your-nanas-house ! Thank you so much for writing this with me and to all the followers, hope you enjoy!

It was a Wednesday, rain was pouring down the town drenching and hitting everything it could reach. 

Not many were outside, just the few that still needed to rush back home or find shelter under the nearest roof— just like you.

At that time you were stuck under the violent weather of that country, your clothes completely soaked and tight against your cold body. 

You were bent over your car, goosebumps all over your flushed skin, intending to fix your small car which refused to start and that way let you reach the warmth of your shared apartment.

Luckily you weren't the only one caught off guard by the rain, other students, who had similar schedules as yours, were busy rushing around to dry and warm up. Just like some professors.

Not even one stopped to help you or moved closer to do something and prevent you from catching a cold or worse... not even a single one in half an hour.

You were slowly freezing, your hand shaking as you continued to take a look as best you could so as to be able to leave. You had started to regret not having called a mechanic but it was too stormy to even use a phone, though. 

The screen was already wet and you could barely search the number when suddenly the rain stopped hitting your head, making your gaze quickly drift up to meet the cold colors of an umbrella.

"You sure will catch a cold if you stay any longer here, Miss Y/l/n" a familiar voice broke the melody of the continuing rain, his body close enough to make you shiver due to the difference of temperature of your bodies

"Hope not, professor Kiernan. Been here since almost an hour now... can't make this damn car work" you replied, the frustration you felt showing in your tense body and harsh tone. The kind professor could tell.

Mike Kiernan, a new-ish professor that worked in your college, and that kindly stopped under the pouring rain to cover your shaking body when he could have just left like all the others. 

You always knew that he was different. A true gentleman most of the time... all the time.

"Can I be of any help?" The man asked not losing a beat, his shoulder already moving just like his hands so as to shrug off his coat and wrap the dry fabric around you while still holding the umbrella. 

His light blue eyes pierced you in the best way, making you completely forget about the situation you were in till he asked what had happened.

And just like that the worried look changed into one of pity as soon as the small glimpse reached his eyes while you explained to him your situation. 

Your eyes were filling up with tears and your bottom lip trembled ever so lightly... maybe because of the emotions or maybe just due to the cold.

"Just need to warm myself up, I can't feel my body anymore... and I can't because this car won't work. I would sit in there and wait but I can't warm it up... a-a-and I can't even go back to the apartment. My roommate has invited over her boyfriend so she asked me to stay out for the night and I said yes a-a-and... and—" your voice broke a couple of times as you spoke, your eyes not meeting Mike's as he kept standing in front of you, rubbing your arm with his free hand in an attempt to warm you up a bit.

The weather didn't look like it was about to improve— quite the opposite actually. 

The water was flooding on the streets, drenching your and Mike's shoes as you kept standing there. If you didn't move you would end up both with a flu for sure.

So just after the first sob that left your mouth, Mr. Kiernan interrupted the monologue with the best kind and reassuring smile he could wear.

"Hey, hey... calm down, darling. It's not a big issue, we can find a solution and take care of everything, yes?" The professor asked with a genuine caring voice, his thumb still drawing circles on the fabric of his own coat which still covered your arms.

"I finished the lectures for the day and was actually heading back to my car... so I can give you a lift. We can even stop at my place first since you mentioned in one of our extra-lessons that you lived quite far from here. We wait till it stops raining... you can stay for the night— and I can easily sleep on the sofa or open it up for you.... then in the morning we will come back here and check what's wrong, call someone and if needed I can give you a ride till your apartment. How does that sound?" He prompted while taking small pauses as he talked so to think better at what you could do to resolve your problem with no harm. 

His eyes remained focused on you all the time as he talked, making sure to receive some confirmation of your understanding or listening.

As soon as you agreed with the plan he quickly led the way to his car, helping you climb in before doing the same and positioning the wet umbrella in the back.

It was really raining quite hard, hard enough to create some issues for the driver, but luckily his house wasn't far away from the campus so you managed to arrive fast and safely.

“Do you mind if I stay? I left my keys at the dorm and Claire requested to have the dorm to herself for the night. Her boyfriend’s in town and I really don’t want to put a damper on their alone time. I hope this isn’t inappropriate.” You smiled awkwardly while biting down on your lip in hopes that he would understand.

He really wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a student staying the night with him in the house but another glance at the window he supposed it wouldn’t hurt. The thunderous storm should be gone by morning.

“Alright but one night only. Why don’t I go fetch you a change of clothes and some tea to warm you up, you must be freezing.” You nodded gracefully, giving him a warm smile. The idea of being in his clothes, warming your heart. You could just imagine what he smelt like, just standing near him he portrayed an alluring, yet comforting scent.

He fumbled in the dresser, settling on a pair of fleece pajamas pants and a simplistic, long sleeve grey shirt. 

Hearing his footsteps, you closed on the kitchen drawers you had been snooping through, whipping your wet head around returning a friendly smile.

“I know this probably isn’t your preference for clothes but it should keep you warm and comfortable. The bathroom’s just to the left.” You mumbled a pleasant thank, shielding your face at angle to hide away your reddening cheeks.

Just when you closed the door behind you, Mike glanced over to the counter where your phone was buzzing. He knew he shouldn’t be just out of curiosity, he picked up the device expecting there to be a lock or some kind of pass code but there wasn’t.

He just wanted to see what type of interests or hobbies his students were into, perhaps something he could involve in a lecture to hinder their attention.

Hm. Photo gallery should be safe, considering he noticed a private section so anything he shouldn’t see should be there but what he found he wasn’t expecting. He felt his fingers go numb, knees nearly limp while his eyes widened.

He couldn’t stop himself from scrolling up, discovering more and more of what he couldn’t believe to be true.

When you opened the door, Mike was standing there holding the electronic device in a death grip, eyes staring down at the glowing screen is disbelief. When he glanced up at you, his lips were parted, eyebrows raised in a natural state of confusion and shock. The initial feeling of incredulity, turning into a sense of fear, but also anger but he was professional and kept his voice steady. Not wanting for this conversation to turn very bad, very fast.

“Y/N what the fuck is this?” Drying your hair off with the towel, your motion went still. Rolling your eyes, you tossed the towel onto the kitchen counter, hands at your hips while you shook your head.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way Mike…Guess the cat’s out of the bag now isn’t it?” His first name too? Was this all planned out and he was too stupid to figure it out.

He didn’t know but what he did know was the rising sense of disturbance in his chest was more present now than ever. 

He understood a little student crush on a teacher but this? This was too far.

These were personal photos, some of him in the shower, fetching the mail, even one of him pleasuring himself in his own fucking bed at fucking 2 in the morning. How did he not see you?

“Find out what? That my student stalks me? Violates my privacy?” You reached for your phone but he was faster, snatching your wrist in his hand.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the strength you with held. You matched his move, wrapping your hand around the veins of his throat while kneeing him below the belt. He groaned, hunching over as he grabbed his battered private area, resting his head on your shoulder unintentionally as your phone fell from his grasp onto the floor.

“All you had to do was play nice professor.” With a confident, firm stride, you walked him back until he fell onto the sofa, slapping him harshly across the face in the process.

“Fuck! Y/N, don’t do this.” Your hips grinded down against his shaft while you straddled him. He cursed at himself when he could feel his member hardening against his will from the friction.

Noticing a strand of the curtain holdback resting in arm’s reach, you held him down by his throat, legs pinning his arms down, while your free hand reached for the fabric.

“I waited so long for this and I’m not going to let you ruin it! Besides who’s the school board going to believe? Hm? A thirty year old man with nothing but a degree? Or an innocent, young girl who was harassed and forced against her will by her teacher?” Mike stared at you with an incredulous glare in his crystal blue eyes. He was speechless, not a thing left to say other than protest your advances. You were right and that right there is what is wrong with society.

You tightened the bindings to one of the pillars in the room, he had nowhere to go.

You took in the pretty portrait of him so helpless and all yours, still tugging to break free. Bending forward, your fingers trailed down the side of his cheek, making him squirm in his feeble position.

“Listen to me, alright? I-I’ll give you whatever you want. All a’s the rest of term, money, anything…I swear.” His way of begging snd negotiating wasn’t even close to anything you wanted, you just wanted him. To feel him inside of you.

Before he could protest anymore, you leaned forward interlocking your lips with his in a sensual kiss, sliding your tongue in, wanting to feel his against yours.

He tasted of tea and mint, so mesmerizing. He hadn’t kissed you back, but that was alright he’d learn soon that you could make him feel extraordinarily good. His mumbled discomfort went unheard before you broke away from the kiss and tucking your hands beneath his shirt.

Your digits scanned down his muscular tone, making you hum in satisfaction.

“I don’t want money, I don’t want straight a’s, just you.” Your hands made their way to his belt bucket, fumbling with the metallic clasp gingerly, wanting to take your time.

He tugged repeatedly at the fabric just praying that it would fucking break, but his efforts to escape went nowhere. 

Up popped his member, slapping against the happy little trail of his abdomen.

Your eyes widened with fascination.

His cock glistened in the sunlight, precum already dripping from his round tip. Your eyes beamed excitedly, the pressure in between your thighs increasing and building with heat.

Standing up, you slid down pj bottoms he so kindly offered, pulling your panties down along with the waistline.

Mike screwed his eyes shut, cursing once more under his breath, reluctant to give in to this delusional fairy tale, to look at the youthful figure of your body. 

You bounced down on top of his lap giddily, breasts jumping with anticipation, hands roaming once more beneath his chest as you kissed him repeatedly and sloppily, aligning your dripping, aching hole with the tip of his leaking cock.

He had never felt so demoralized, so weak in a situation he had no control over.

All he could feel was your throbbing pussy resting on top of his strained cock.

Fuck did consent for men mean anything these days? He was just a man trying to make a living for himself and he surely did not want you.

He felt disgusted with himself when he felt your cunt slowly slide down his shaft, warming the thickness of his eager member. Fuck if he could cut the thing off right now he would.

“Y/N, stop. Please…This is enough.” His choked sobs was like music to your ears, hearing your name escape his lips with such a beautiful, scared tone. Your body responded for you, releasing a pleasurable, palpable moan once he was bottomed inside of your tight pussy. You had never felt so full, never seen a cock so big, so desirable that it caused you to nearly drool at the mouth. 

“Fuck professor, I didn’t know you were so big.” Relishing in the sight of his shiny length, you leaned down, grasping the base of his cock in your hand before indulging him between your plump lips.

“Oh fuck me. Stop!” He screeched in a disgusted tone. Your mouth was quite warm while your tongue danced around his tip poetically, that didn’t change his consent though. He didn’t want this, regardless of what his fucking testosterone may say.

Hallowing your lips, you aimed to please him. Your hand moving in unison massaging the base of his cock while the other fondled his balls, making him flinch forward, from the unexpected gesture.

Only thing in the way of stopping you the fucking bindings.

You hummed around his cock, glancing up to now see his baby blue hues on you, just like you wanted.

Weren’t you getting it? He wasn’t enjoying this, he didn’t want to see his body being violated. There was a strain of saliva pouring down your chin when your head nodded off of him, deciding he was wet enough for the fun part.

“Y/N- No- Listen to me you are better than this! It doesn’t have to go this far okay? Just-“ You pressed your finger seductively to his lips to silence his pretty little complaints before positioning yourself over his reddened, strained cock. 

His own body was betraying him, he hadn’t wanted this, he really didn’t but his dick had a mind of it’s own.

Before he could say another word, you made your sweet, desirable descent down the length of his penis, moaning once the void was filled and you were stuffed full of his thick cock.

“My, my Mr. Kiernan, quite the show-er and grower aren’t we.” Your hips swayed slowly at first, making him cringe at the feeling of your unwanted body taking advantage of him.

Your hands caressed the top of his thighs while you leaned back, slowly picking up the pace, riding him gratifyingly. Every motion was so surreal, tantalizingly pleasurable, everything you ever dreamed of really.

You had never been so stretched open before by a man you craved.

“Doesn’t this feel good Mr. Kiernan?” He shook his head violently no, expressing again he did not want this, he didn’t enjoy any aspect of this.

Through gritted teeth he politely asked you to stop, to get off of him, but you didn’t.

Now bouncing up and down on his cock, hands ruffled in his soft brown hair while you used him, pounding down relentlessly, needing more and more. 

The heat rose in your cunt, unable to take your eyes off of his handsome, deeply attractive fast as you fucked him aggressively now.

Snapping and rolling your hips until you found that one, perfect position to satisfy all your needs. He was fighting it still you could tell but his eyebrows furrowed, clearly the position felt good for him as well.

His breaths became heavy, feeling the animalistic nature creep in and trying to put a stop from his hips slowly starting to match your rhythm.

“See, I told you so…” Nothing a but disgruntled whimper escaped his lips, a choked sob while his head was turning into the cushion of the sofa, not wanting to see the disgraceful action.

Fuck he was uncomfortable, wrestling relentlessly with those fucking curtains trying everything to twist away, to throw you off of him but he couldn’t.

He rutted into your soaked canal, searching for a release as he striked that distinct sweet spot inside of you. 

“Oh fuck, Mike…” Your ass ricocheted off of his thighs with each thunderous thrust. 

Then he stopped, trying to gain back control over his body, but surely you could finish the job yourself.

“Aw what’s wrong professor, is my pussy gonna make you cum hm?” Rocking and rolling your hips, his thighs twitched below your ass cheeks, toes curling from the unavoidable orgasm.

His teeth dug into the plumpness of his bottom lip, eyes screwed shut once more as he attempted to pull himself away not wanting to cum but it was too late.

A tear escaped his waterline, cheeks flushed and heated from embarrassment and shame. What the fuck had he done.

He cursed underneath his breath when he felt your flood gates open, still milking him for all he had to give even as your back arched, your pussy releasing the effects of your orgasm. You inner, stimulated walls squeezed his length while your sweet nectar spilled out, hips grinding and smearing your actions together like a disastrous painting, wanting to ensure your smell was left, your mark was left.

“Fuck, fuck Mikeee…” Opening his eyes and seeing the evidence, reminding him he lost to a fucking student, used by a student.

He felt violated, useless, hopeless like he no longer held control over his own life.

He flinched away from your touch when he felt your temple land and rest on his shoulder, still trying to catch a breath and slow down his racing thoughts and heart.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” He tried to hold back the tears, but nearly choked on his own breath, fully sobbing while glancing down at the mess of your seeds, sticky and swirled in his pubes.

As the days passed, he found it increasingly difficult to teach with you in the room, constantly stuttering from the flashbacks of the assault, scared to even look at you, knowing that you had more power over him in this fucked up situation.

He was scared to lose his job, and he was alone. 

He’d look in the mirror and feel disgusted with his own body, crying that he had no control over a young fucking girl.

He’d walk through the hallways curling in on himself feeling like everyone he passed by in haze would look at him and just somehow knew what happened, like they were all laughing at him. 

No one cared, no one fucking cared about his pain and he had to hold it all in.

Every passion, every dream, every desire died within him, you took everything and didn’t give a damn.

He could still feel you under his skin, over his shoulder. Still could taste the bitter intrusion of your tongue.

Every time he passed your car parked on the side of the road at school he’d seethe in his seat feeling like he was to blame for the assault.

Why didn’t he fight harder? Why did his body react the way it did, maybe he liked it..

No, no, that wasn’t it, it couldn’t be. Had he done something to make you think he was interested? Should he have not tutored you after school with chapters you were struggling with?

What could he have done differently, or better guide you into the right direction of choices?

His skin crawled at the memories, still trying to figure out the reason as to why.

Who would believe that a young girl could rape an older man? There was no such thing and surely other men would joke about it, that’s what he felt like a joke.

Because of you, he didn’t know who he was or what his purpose in life was anymore.

[darlingsfandom]

To Date a Teacher

Anon: If then write about Mike Kienan, where the reader and he are always shipped by their students, even if they are not together because Kienan is still with Kasia, at least that's what the reader thinks. Until one day the reader and Mike and another teacher, were signed to them to accompany their students on a trip, where they have to stay for a few days.Until one day, a student seeing them talking together, replied: "Look, they two are definitely together.", the reader replies "No no, we are not together, Mr. Kiernan is taken." but she realized that she made Mike feel bad and gives another teacher the task of checking on the students. While they are in a room Mike explains that he was cheated on and finally fucks the reader when he finds out that she has feelings for him (of course the students hear their very interesting and particular screams.).

Not proofread!

No triggers! Just fluff ✨

“Good morning Ms. y/l/n” Mike smiled at you holding up his coffee cup and giving you a nod.

“Good morning Mr. Kiernan.” You smiled back before opening the door to your room.

Mike Kiernan was a good man. This was your first year at this school but not your first year teaching. You knew all the tricks of the trade but nothing prepared you for teasing that students did.

“You totally like Mr.Kiernan!” One of your students said as you came into the room with a smile on your face after talking to him. You always talked to him about everything! He was right next door for crying out loud and he’s been teaching for fifteen years so of course you’re asking his advice and how he teaches the lesson.

“Mr. Kiernan and I are just friends. Plus who I like is none of your business. Maybe if you put as much effort into your assignments as you do my personal life you’d have a better grade.” The other students giggled and “oh’d” as your student crossed her arms.

Weeks turned into months as the school year went on. You still talked to Mike , had lunch together and even stayed after school to grade papers together while he lead detention. It wasn’t unusual that the students whispered about the two of you or the fact that other teachers would glare at you, well mostly at you since they all liked Mike too. You never dared try to ask him out and from what you gathered he has a girlfriend.

Soon enough the spring field trip was here and lucky you, you were teamed up with Mike. The two of you sat together on the bus chatting when one of the students started to sing about how the two of you were sitting in a tree..

“At least I could get a girl to kiss me.” Mike sassed as the student scrunched his face while his friends laughed at him. You felt a blush creep up your neck to your cheeks because you have let your mind wonder to see what it would be like if you did share a kiss. You said you’d never think of him like that but what’s a girl to do? The rest of the way there Mike handled the random outburst and teasing before you found yourself laying your head on the window. Your eyes got heavy and soon enough you were asleep.

The gentle touching on your shoulder woke you up. The feeling of dried drool on the corner of your mouth made you whine as you stretched up your arms to see Mike smiling at you.

“Hello sleepyhead.” He chuckled as you smoothed out your hair.

“Are we there yet?” You asked looking around the bus to see some of the students sleeping, reading, talking and texting.

“Almost …” he looked at his watch. “About twenty minutes left.” Mike rubbed your shoulder. The two of you sat quietly as you woke yourself back up. It was a longer bus ride than you thought but you wanted to go on the field trip.

Once the bus arrived to the camp the kids were running off the bus as fast as they could. Mike stepped out before holding out his hand to help you off the bus and of course the students started teasing the two of you again.

“Oh will you knock it off! Mr.Kieran has a girlfriend!” You rolled your eyes as you helped the kids gather their bags. Mike stood there with a grin before you looked at him with confused eyebrows.

“Actually, I don’t have a girlfriend. I have an ex wife.” He passed out the bags before the kids were inside waiting to go to their assigned rooms. You stood there with a dumbfound look on your face until the sound of the kids running past you brought you back.

After getting all checked in and making sure the kids were in the right rooms you were wandering the halls trying to rid the thought of the fact you just embarrassed yourself in front of Mike and the students, but the odd thing was he never got upset. He didn’t yell, he wasn’t embarrassed , in fact he was calm and cool about it. It was bothering you that he wasn’t bothered. You made your way back to the elevator only for your “luck” to continue.

The doors opened only to reveal Mike standing in pajamas.

“Hello.” He gave you a wave as you stepped into the elevator. You nodded before looking down at your feet.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you about the whole girlfriend thing.” You felt your heart race as you played with your fingers. Mike looked down at you before playfully pushing your shoulder.

“You didn’t embarrass me. It’s actually kind of cute how worked up you get when the kids tease us , almost like you might actually have a crush on me.” He gave you a wink that made your heart skip a beat and all the blood rush to your head. He laughed a little until he realized how frozen you were, how your bottom lip was being bitten and how you were rocking on your feet over so lightly.

“Do you have a crush on me?” He asked making your eyes grow ten times bigger than they were.

A soft sigh left your lips. “I have for awhile… but I thought you had someone else.” Mike shook his head before he opened his mouth then closed it as the door opened to show a group of students standing there.

“What do you guys think you’re doing out of your rooms?” Mike crossed his arms as they stood there giggling. They were giggling because it was you and Mr.Kiernan together in your pajamas! “It’s nothing like that, we’re not together!” You rolled your eyes making the kids go back to their rooms.

Mike watched to make sure before he turned back to face you. “You keep saying we’re not together but the always roll your eyes like you’re annoyed about.” He grabbed your hand. “So I think we should change that.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“No.”

Your heart sank.

“I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.” Mike leaned in slowly and brushed his lips onto yours before you kissed him back. His hand cupped your cheek gently. You smiled against his lips before he pulled away and before you could say a word the sounds of cheering came from down the hall. The two of you turned to see the students standing there.

“Get back in your rooms!” Mike snapped his fingers making them run away giggling before he turned to face you. “And you… I need an answer.” He trailed his finger over your bottom lip.

“Yes.” Mike grinned ear to ear because he finally got you after all those months of trying, he finally got to call you his.

[staiyn]

Cillian Character charts

these are probably not correct. 🫶

ITS ALL FUN AND GAMES! -so do not take it to serious-

[mysaintkitten]

you want to do a student/teacher roleplay with Mike kiernan 😏 he is hesitant at first but gives in

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!reader

prompt: mr. kiernan punishes you (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: very minimal plot. pure smut. student/teacher role play obvi, spanking, innocence kink, size kink(ish), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm denial

word count: not sure tbh, not very long 🤷‍♀️ (not proofread)

“i don’t know .. i just feel weird about it because i’m like .. i’m an actual teacher, you know.” mike admitted, he was fully down for role play, but when you mentioned a teacher and student role play .. he got a bit wary.

you sigh softly, “i understand, mike, but i’m not an actual student. we’re two adults. it’s pretend, baby.” he nods, but he still doesn’t budge.

“how about this,” you start, “we’ll try it out, and if it gets too uncomfortable for you, we can stop. okay?”

after a few moments of consideration, he huffs and dips his head back, “fine.”

as you bite your lip with excitement and lean over to kiss his cheek, you quickly scramble off the bed to start getting changed.

the two of you start to prepare for this role play. he dresses as he normally would, but a bit more formally, and you slip into a short plaid skirt and a tight button up with a bit of cleavage peaking out.

once mike gives you the heads up that he’s ready, you knock on the bedroom door, and the show begins.

“mr. kiernan?” you ask from outside the door,

“come in.” he responds sternly. “and shut the door behind you.”

you comply and slink your sway inside, shutting the door behind you. mike hasn’t seen you in this costume before, and he can already feel himself getting a bit worked up at just the sight of you.

“do you why you’ve been brought to detention, young lady?” mike questions, leaning his body forward to open a small drawer and pulling out a wooden ruler.

“no sir .. i’m not sure.” you say coyly, clasping your hands behind your back while giving mike an innocent glare

he sighs and slowly walks over to the edge of the bed and sits down. “you’ve been a very, very bad girl.” he claims for the sake of the role play, “now, come here.” he adds while patting his lap.

you approach him timidly, watching how his eyes scan from your tits down to your legs. you’re so exposed, yet clothed enough to leave just a bit to the imagination. mike knows exactly what your body looks like, yet when you’re packaged up like this it’s almost like you’re brand new to him.

as you stand beside him, he pats his lap again.

“lay across my thighs, darling.”

you follow his commands and lay your stomach against his thighs, wiggling around a bit to get yourself comfortable before slightly perking your ass out for him.

“do you know how we punish girls who misbehave?” mike purrs, running his large hand against one of your clothed ass cheeks. you shake your head, “no, sir.”

“they get spanked, sweetheart. you’re going to get ten strikes and you’re going to count them aloud, understood?” mike hums as he switches the ruler to his dominant hand.

“yes, sir. i understand.” you breathed, mentally preparing yourself for the smacks.

“good girl.” he praises quietly as he slowly lifts the bottom half of your skirt, quickly realizing that you have no underwear on underneath. he groans at the sight of your pussy, you smirk proudly while hiding your face.

he clicks his tongue and skims his hand along the bare skin, “no panties either? dirty, dirty girl ..” he scolds, bringing the ruler down to your ass and teasingly pressing against the cheek, “ready?”

“mhm ..” you mumble, biting your fist in anticipation,

“what was that?” mike taunts, lightly tapping your ass with the ruler. your body jolts gently at he light smack, and you clear your throat to respond. “yes, sir. i’m ready.”

“good.” he purrs before bringing the ruler up and quickly snapping it back down, causing a harsh sting to spread across your ass.

“mh!” you whimper, “one ..”

he snaps it down again,

“t-two ..”

and again,

“th.. three ..”

and again, and again, and again, until you reach 10. you don’t know if it was deliberate, but it felt like the smacks were getting rougher and rougher as they went on.

“there you go, hopefully now you’ll ..” mike begins to say before his voice trails off, your now glistening pussy catches his eye. he leans in a bit closer and spreads your slick lips apart with his index finger and thumb, chuckling breathily at what he sees.

“did those spankings get you excited, pretty girl?”

“i feel all tingly and warm between my thighs .. i don’t know why, sir ..” you whine, shifting your hips around in attempt to give yourself some friction on your needy pussy.

mike sighs as he dips a finger between your folds, spreading your slick around. “it’s natural, love. your body likes the touches. and when your body wants more, your sweet little cunt will get all wet ..”

he slides his middle finger inside of you with ease, you moan quietly and clench your thighs together. mike feels his cock twitch in his pants at the slight grip of your pussy against his finger.

“‘n it loosens up, see how easily you took my finger, baby?” he adds, slowly fucking you with the lone digit. “your cunt wants something bigger, doesn’t it, darling?”

“yes .. i think so, sir ..” you moan, feeling your cheeks tint pink from the eroticism. for someone who initially didn’t want to do this, mike is doing a really good job.

“you want me to fill you up, baby? make that cunt feel nice ‘n full?” mike purrs, his eyes glued on your pussy as it eagerly accepts his slick finger, your arousal beginning to spill onto his palm.

“yes, sir ..” you groan pathetically beneath him, he tuts quietly as he slides his finger out, teasingly sliding it between your folds again while you whimper. “where are those manners, sweet girl? let’s do this again .. would you like me to make your cunt feel good?”

“yes, yes, please sir!” you huff, arching your back against his touch, mike smirks and pats your ass gently. “good girl. get on the bed and lay down on your back.”

you quickly rise to your feet and scramble onto the bed, you lay on your back and patiently wait for mike with your knees bent and thighs together. mike gets up and crawls onto the bed, you can see something different in him. something in his eyes. he’s too far into the role play to want to stop now.

he sits on his knees in front of you and places his hands on your thighs, “spread your legs for me, love.” mike cooed. you comply, slowly spreading your thighs apart for him. he finally gets a better view of your pussy, but your skirt is still adding the slightest bit of coverage. something about it is so slutty, he didn’t realize how much it would rile him up.

he reached his hand out and toys with your folds again, using his free hand to lovingly pet your outer thigh.

“has anyone ever licked you here before?” he questions softly. he knows the answer. he’s eaten you out before, but it’s a part of pretending. and some deeper part of him does like the idea of being the one to make you feel all these things for the first time.

“no, sir .. never ..” you breathed as you shift your hips forward slightly to give him a better angle to play with you.

“would you like me to, pretty girl?”

“hm ..” you breathed, “what if i don’t taste good ..”

mike brings his slick fingers up to his mouth and sucks your arousal off, humming approvingly at your taste.

“tastes real fuckin’ sweet, love .. “ he praises, his cock is aching at this point. he wants to be inside you so badly, but he needs to taste you first. if he had the option between penetrating you and eating you, he’d pick the latter every time. he was an absolute fiend for oral, giving and receiving.

before you know it, his head is between your legs and he’s lapping you up like his life depends on it.

“oh, jesus, sir!” you moan loudly as mike brings his attention towards your clit, sucking on the swollen bud skillfully.

“does it feel nice?” he temporarily moves his mouth to ask, quickly returning continue sucking on your clit.

“it’s .. it’s good just .. too much ..” you pant, shifting your hips around beneath his head. he doesn’t allow this for long, his hands make their way to your hips and he forcefully holds them down in place.

“poor baby ..” he taunts, breathing heavily against your warm core. “is your clit too sensitive for that? would you prefer for me to ..” before finishing, he licks a long flat stripe against your cunt, starting right from the bottom of your opening and ending with him flicking his tongue off your clit.

“o-oh, mike!” you gasp, temporarily losing your ‘character’ in the moment, he lets out a small breathy laugh against you before correcting you. “it’s sir, or mr. kiernan, sweetheart. don’t make me have to correct you again.”

“i’m s-orry .. sir, please, need you-“ you ramble as your heels dig into the mattress, your hips wriggling around involuntarily as mike eagerly prods your hole with his tongue, occasionally bringing his tongue back up to lick your clit before bringing it back down to your hole and repeating the process.

“need me how, love? come on, you’re a big girl. use your words.”

“mmf “ you whimper in desperation, “your cock, sir, please-“

“there we go. so polite.” he purrs as he removes his head from between your legs and finally begins to free his eager member. as he unzips his pants and tugs them down, he refrains from palming himself. he’s already so hard, and he wants to feel you more than his measly palm.

he removes his pants and boxers, your eyes shift down to his flushed hard cock. the slight shine of pre come on his tip catches your attention.

“sir ..” you choke, “you’re .. really big ..”

he chuckles, “think you can handle it?”

you nod slowly while tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“has anyone ever fucked you raw before, pretty girl?” mike hums, lowering himself down to align his tip with your opening. he teases your folds, nearly pushing himself inside before pulling back out, spreading your arousal around with the head.

“n-no, mr. kiernan ..” you pant, lolling your head back as pure desperation floods your system. you know he’s probably working you up on purpose, fuelling the role play in a sense, but you need him, oh so badly.

mike smirked, “it’ll feel so nice, sweet thing .. nothing between us ..”

as he finishes his sentence, he slowly begins to insert himself inside you, exhaling deeply at the snug sensation.

“is this ..” he starts before groaning, “‘s this comfortable for you, love?”

small whimpers spill from your lips, “yeah .. mmf- just .. hurts a bit ..”

mike thrusts into you slowly at a calm and steady pace, slowly stretching you open around his cock. the stinging began to dull and you were left with the pleasure of mike inside you

as your whines shift into moans, mike begins to pick up the pace. “look at that ..” he hums as he watches himself disappear inside of you, “who woulda thought that a little thing like you would take my cock so well ..”

“ngh-“ you huff as mike gets harsher with his thrust, “‘m not little-“

“you’re little compared to me, sweet girl.” he corrects as his eyes make their way back up to your face while placing his hands onto your hips and gripping them roughly. “and this cunt- fuck, this cunt .. gripping me so goddamn good, baby.”

you glance at mike as he pounds into you. there’s something so sexy about seeing him get so dirty in his formal wear. if anyone saw him out in public dressed like this, they’d never be able to guess what disgusting things he likes to say in the bedroom. they’d wouldn’t assume he’d be fucking his girlfriend raw while she wears a school girl outfit, that’s for sure.

“how’s it feel, hm?” mike groaned, “‘m so fucking deep inside of you .. can you feel me here, love?” he asks while pressing the pads of his fingers onto your lower abdomen. you whimper loudly as you feel his tip brush against the area he’s pressing on, “yes- yes, s-sir-“

“pretty little thing has never been this full before, has she?”

you shake your head while whining, finding it hard to articulate any sort of sentence right now.

“keep being a bad girl .. and i can ‘punish’ you whenever .. fill up this cunt whenever you need it ..” mike chuckles, “i’ll still spank you .. now that i know how wet that gets you ..”

a new wave of arousal rushes through your body and you feel yourself becoming wetter around mike, “s-sir-“ you mewl.

“sweetheart ..” mike growls at the sensation of you getting slicker around him, your walls occasionally clenching around him in the process. “you like the idea of me punishing you, don’t you?”

you swallow and nod, gripping the duvet beneath you so harshly that your knuckles begin to turn white.

“filthy little thing .. showing up to her punishment with no panties on .. hoping her teacher sees and takes advantage of her ..” he hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppier as his jaw hangs slack.

mike screws his eyes shut and tips his head back, “god, fuck-“ he moans under his breath, “gonna come, baby-“. you clench around him more, deliberately, trying to get him closer to his orgasm. and unsurprisingly, you succeed.

as he holds his hips tightly against yours, his load spills inside of you, you feel the warm liquid shooting out of him as he huffs loudly, mumbling curses and praises.

with a few more weak thrusts, he slowly pulls himself out. he lifts up your skirt to get a better view of his come spilling out of you. he groans, slowly pushing a finger inside to stuff his come back inside of you.

“sir ..” you whimper, “hm?” mike responds, crawling off the bed to zip up his pants.

“i didn’t finish ..”

he tuts and pouts condescendingly, “aw. too bad, baby.”

“but i was so close ..” you frown, spreading your legs a bit for him in hopes that he’ll come back and resume the job.

“for future reference, my love, orgasms aren’t just given. they’re earned. and you haven’t earned it.” mike shrugs, “sorry, pretty girl. behave better in class and maybe i’ll consider letting you come.”

and with that, mike leaves you on the bed. high and dry. well, not really dry, but high for sure.

—

helloooo !! this isn’t very long, i know, but i hope you guys still enjoy it !!

[ceirinen]

February 2024

This is all I've read this month. Thank you to the authors for creating all these stories, you're all so talented!

And if you go and check on their stories (which I recommend to do), don't forget to let them know if you liked them.

(I always tag the authors, If you are in this list and don't want to be, please let me know so I can fix it)

ARTHUR SHELBY

Family | Arthur Shelby x fem!Reader by @peakyswritings A slice of us | modern!Peaky Blinders by @call-sign-shark To bark and bite | Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC by @call-sign-shark Loose cannon | modern!Arthur Shelby x Reader by @call-sign-shark Perfect lines | Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC by @call-sign-shark

THOMAS SHELBY

Blessed be the fruit | soft!dark!sergeant!Tommy Shelby x maiden!Reader by @deceitfuldevout Daddy's Princess | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @garrison-girl-08 The neighbour's cat | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @acewritesfics Lost in the rhythm | Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader by @red-riding-wood My hero | Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader by @jomarch-wannabe

ALFIE SOLOMONS

The one with Alfie owning an erotic bakery shop by @justrainandcoffee

Reckless | Emmett x fem!OC by @cillmequick People worth saving | Emmett x fem!Reader by @pedropascallme Imagine Emmett when he realises one of the creatures is nearby by @touchtheinvisiblestars

Suburban House | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader by @cillianslovebug Happy Purge | soft!dark!Mike Kiernan x student!Reader by @deceitfuldevout

[pearlstiare]

Did a watch Broken just because of this edit of Cillian?, yes. Did I finish watching it and come directly to tumblr to see if there's any story of that character?, yes. Are there any?, no. But I'm going to make one?, yes.

New stuff is coming on this blog, stay tuned!. My Cillian Murphy obsesion is growing every minute.

Credit to the Edit: pleadinglove on ig

[aion-rsa]

Best Horror Movies on Netflix: Scariest Films to Stream

https://ift.tt/2S0a65g

Editor’s Note: This post is updated monthly. Bookmark this page to see what the best horror movies on Netflix are at your convenience.

Is it Halloween when you’re reading this? If not we’re still close enough with fall here and the month of October almost upon us! It’s the time of year where we like our drinks spiced with pumpkin or apple, our flannel light, and the movies we consume scary. And lucky for you there are more than a handful of worthwhile scary movies on Netflix.

There is nothing quite as fun as embracing the spooky, the creepy, the scary, and things that go bump in the night. Thankfully we have horror movies to help us down these paths. If you ever find yourself in need of a thrill or a chill, check out some of the best horror movies on Netflix, we’ve gathered here.

Enjoy your tricks and treats.

Looking for the best horror movies on Netflix UK? Click here!

As Above, So Below

We know what you might be thinking: a found footage horror movie? Yes, this was one of the later adherents to a genre craze that got run into the ground during the 2000s and early 2010s. However, As Above, So Below is the rare thing: effectively creepy. With a crackerjack premise about the real Catacombs of Paris being a secret gateway to Hell, the film casts an energetic Perdita Weeks as a modern day Indiana Jones in a Go-Pro helmet. She and her colleagues make the unwise choice to go off the tourist-guided path in the catacombs, which is home to the remains of more than 6 million people who died between the early middle ages and 18th century.

But once deep below the City of Lights, the film’s dwindling protagonists find themselves crawling beneath a wall with the words “Abandon all Hope Ye Who Enter.” And things just get bleak from there. This is a ghoulish good-time for those who are willing to indulge in the gimmick storytelling.

Apostle

Apostle comes from acclaimed The Raid director Gareth Evans and is his take on the horror genre. Spoiler alert: it’s a good one.

Dan Stevens stars as Thomas Richardson, a British man in the early 1900s who must rescue his sister, Jennifer, from the clutches of a murderous cult. Thomas successfully infiltrates the cult led by the charismatic Malcom Howe (Michael Sheen) and begins to ingratiate himself with the strange folks obsessed with bloodletting. Thomas soon comes to find that the object of the cult’s religious fervor may be more real than he’d prefer.

The Blackcoat’s Daughter

Some kids dream about being left overnight or even a week at certain locations to play, like say a mall or a Chuck E. Cheese. One place that no one wants to be left alone in, however, is a Catholic boarding school.

That’s the situation that Rose (Lucy Boynton) and Kat (Kiernan Shipka) find themselves in in the atmospheric and creepy The Blackcoat’s Daughter. When Rose and Kat’s parents are unable to pick them up for winter break, the two are forced to spend the week at their dingy Catholic boarding school. If that weren’t bad enough, Rose fears that she may be pregnant…oh, and the nuns might all be Satanists.

The Blackcoat’s Daughter is an excellent debut directorial outing from Oz Perkins and another step on the right horror path for scream queens Shipka and Emma Roberts.

The Evil Dead

1981’s The Evil Dead is nothing less than one of the biggest success stories in horror movie history.

Written and directed on a shoestring budget by Sam Raimi, The Evil Dead uses traditional horror tropes to its great advantage, creating a scary, funny, and almost inconceivably bloody story about five college students who encounter some trouble in a cabin in the middle of the woods. That trouble includes the unwitting release of a legion of demons upon the world.

The Evil Dead rightfully made stars of its creator and lead Bruce Campbell. It was also the jumping off point for a successful franchise that includes two sequels, a remake, a TV show, and more.

Gerald’s Game

We are living in a renaissance for Stephen King adaptations. But while there have been many killer clowns and hat-wearing fiends getting major attention at the multiplexes, the best King movie in perhaps decades is Mike Flanagan’s underrated Gerald’s Game. Cleverly adapted from what has been described as one of King’s worst stories, Gerald’s Game improves on its source material when it imagines a middle-aged woman (Carla Gugino) placed in a terrifying survival situation after her husband (Bruce Greenwood) dies of a heart attack during a sex game.

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Movies

15 Best Stephen King Movies

By John Saavedra

Movies

The Shining: 5 Things Jack Torrance Taught Us About Social Distancing and Quarantine

By David Crow

Handcuffed to a bed in their remote cabin in the woods, Gugino’s Jessie must face the fact no one is coming to save her in the next week… more than enough time to die of dehydration or the wolf prowling about. Thus the specter of death hovers over the whole movie, seemingly literally with a monstrous shade emerging from the shadows to bedevil Jessie each night. A trenchant character study that frees Gugino to show a wide range of terror, determination, and finally horrifying desperation, the movie delves into the shadows of a woman haunted by trauma and demons almost as scary as her current situation. Almost.

The Gift

Who knew Joel Edgerton had it in him?

The Gift is the Australian actor’s writing and directing debut and it doesn’t disappoint. Edgerton stars as Gordon “Gordo” Mosely. He’s a nice enough middle-aged man if a little “off.” One day while shopping he runs into an old high school classmate Simon (Jason Bateman) and his wife Robyn (Rebecca Hall). After their brief encounter, Gordo takes it upon himself to start dropping off little gifts to Simon and Robyn’s home. Robyn sees no problem with it at first. But Simon becomes disturbed, perhaps because of the unique past Simon and Gordo share.

Many horror movies understand there must be a twist of some sort or at the very least an unexpected third act. Even still The Gift‘s third act switch up is particularly devastating because it’s so mundane and logical. The Gift ends up being an emotional drama disguised as horror.

The Girl with All the Gifts

Just when you thought there was nothing left to be done with the zombie genre, in comes a shocking and original idea… one that has sadly grown only more scary in 2020 with regards to The Girl with All the Gifts. A brilliant little indie from Colm McCarthy, this underrated gem imagines a zombie apocalypse as something closer to a viral pandemic that lasts for generations…. and one where a vaccine is always just out of reach.

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Movies

Evil Dead Movies: The Most Soul Sucking Moments

By David Crow

Movies

Zombie Comedies Ranked

By David Crow

Thus enters the class of Helen Justineau (Gemma Arterton). Years after a fungal infection ravaged the planet, turning the infected into “hungries” (breathing zombies), their offspring have shown a creepy ability to retain the ability to think, learn, and love… even as they crave living flesh.

Hence the students in Helen’s class, including her favorite Melanie (Sennia Nanua). The child is special… too much so when it’s believed her biology could create a vaccine that would spare anymore humans turning “hungry.” But to harvest her body, the military will drag Helen and Melanie through an urban hellscape which has reduced London to an abandoned refuge for Hungries and feral children who likewise hunt uninfected humans for food.

The Golem

The Golem is such an awesome monster from Jewish mythology that it’s hard to believe they don’t make more movies about him. Well now they have. The Golem isn’t a straight-up remake of the 1915 movie of the same name so much as it is the next step in the evolution of this grim mythological beast.

During the outbreak of a plague, Hanna (Hani Furstenberg) will do whatever it takes to defend her community from outside invaders. Unfortunately, and in true fairy tale fashion, the creature she conjures up to defend her community quickly develops a murderous mind of its own.

Green Room

Green Room is a shockingly conventional horror movie despite not having all of the elements we traditionally associate with them. You won’t find any monsters or the presence of the supernatural in Green Room.

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Movies

31 Best Horror Movies to Stream

By Alec Bojalad and 1 other

Movies

The 13 Best Horror Movie Themes

By David Crow

Instead all monsters are replaced by vengeful neo-Nazis and the haunted house is replaced by a skinhead punk music club in the middle of nowhere in the Oregon woods. The band, The Aint Rights, led by bassist Pat (Anton Yelchin) are locked in the green room of a club after witnessing a murder and must fight their way out.

Horns

A horror vintage for a distinctly acquired taste, Alexandre Aja’s Horns is a bizarre fairy tale for adults. As much a revenge fable as a typical chiller, this movie which put “Harry Potter in Devil Horns” is actually something of a grim love story based on a novel by Joe Hill.

Daniel Radcliffe plays Ig Perrish, an outcast in his local community who wants nothing more than to forever be by the side of his lifelong love Merrin (Juno Temple). After her brutal unsolved murder prevents that, Ig swears he’d sell his soul to get revenge.

Funny thing is the day after he makes such a proclamation, horns begin growing from his forehead. The greater they grow, the easier it is to get sinners around him to confess their most hidden shames, and indulge in others. But with the clock ticking before he becomes a full-fledged demon, and his soul is presumably claimed by Beelzebub, there is only a narrow window before he can get revenge while raising a little hell.

Hush

In his follow-up to the cult classic Oculus, Mike Flanagan makes one of the more clever horror movies on this list. Hush is a thrilling game of cat-and-mouse within the typical nightmare of a home invasion, yet it also turns conventions of that familiar terror on its head.

For instance, the savvy angle about this movie is Kate Siegel (who co-wrote the movie with Flanagan) plays Maddie, a deaf and mute woman living in the woods alone. Like Audrey Hepburn’s blind woman from the progenitor of home invasion stories, Wait Until Dark (1967), Maddie is completely isolated when she is marked for death by a menacing monster in human flesh.

Like the masked villains of so many more generic home invasion movies (I’m looking square at you, Strangers), John Gallagher Jr.’s “Man” wears a mask as he sneaks into her house. However, the functions of this story are laid bare since we actually keep an eye on what the “Man” is doing at all times, and how he is getting or not getting into the house in any given scene. He isn’t aided by filmmakers who’ve given him faux-supernatural and omnipotent abilities like other versions of these stories, and he’s not an “Other;” he’s a man who does take his mask off, and his lust for murder is not so much fetishized as shown for the repulsive behavior that it is. And still, Maddie proves to be both resourceful and painfully ill-equipped to take him on in this tense battle of wills.

Insidious

Insidious is the start of a multi-film horror franchise and a pretty good one at that. Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne star as a married couple who move into a new home with their three kids. Shortly after they move in, their son Dalton is drawn to a shadow in the attic and then falls into a mysterious coma from which they can’t wake him.

It’s at this point that the Lamberts do what horror fans always yell at characters to do: they move out of the damn house! Little do they know, however, that some hauntings go beyond mere domiciles.

The Invitation

Seeing your ex is always uncomfortable, but imagine if your ex-wife invited you to a dinner party with her new husband? That is just about the least creepy thing in this taut thriller nestled in the Hollywood Hills.

Indeed, in The Invitation Logan Marshall-Green’s Will is invited by his estranged wife (Tammy Blanchard) for dinner with her new hubby David (Michael Huisman of Game of Thrones). David apparently wanted to extend the bread-breaking offer personally since he has something he wants to invite both Will and all his other guests into joining. And it isn’t a game of Scrabble…

It Comes at Night

Surviving the apocalypse comes with a certain amount of questions. For starters, what do you do after you survive a global pandemic thanks to your secluded cabin in the woods…and then someone comes knocking? That’s the situation that the family consisting of Paul (Joel Edgerton), Sarah (Carmen Ejogo), and Travis (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) find themselves in in It Comes at Night.

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TV

Best Horror TV Shows on Netflix

By Alec Bojalad

TV

Best Horror TV Shows on Hulu

By Alec Bojalad

When Paul and his family come across another family in the woods seeking shelter and water, they hesitantly welcome them in. But this soon proves to be a dangerous decision. Having guests in the real world is annoying enough to deal with and it only becomes harder when you suspect that any one of them could be sick with a highly-contagious, utterly fatal illness.

Paranormal Activity

Ignore the sequels. Yes, you know they’re bad and we know they’re bad. But long before “the Ghost Dimension” (whatever the hell that means), there was this eerie surprise hit that started it all. A movie which was estimated to be the most profitable movie of all time in its day–earning $193.4 million worldwide on a budget of $15,000–Paranormal Activity put Blumhouse Productions on the map and is still a supremely affecting piece of atmosphere.

Presented as the true story of a young, and not wholly likable, couple (Katie Featherston and Micah Sloat), the film follows the pair as they attempt to document the bumps they’re hearing in the house at night–only to discover a demonic presence and some repressed memories for one party. A still brilliant exercise in sound design, tension, and the uncanny ability to trick audiences into believing what they’re seeing is actually happening, this remains the best found footage horror movie ever made.

Poltergeist

Before there was Insidious, The Conjuring, or a myriad of other “suburban family vs. haunted house” movies, there was Poltergeist. Taking ghost stories out of the Gothic setting of ancient castles or decrepit mansions and hotels, Poltergeist moved the spirits into the middle class American heartland of the 1980s. With a smart screenplay by no less than Steven Spielberg (and, according to some, his ghost direction), Poltergeist finds the Freeling family privy to a disquieting fact about their new home: It’s built on top of a cemetery!

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TV

The Best Haunted House Movies and TV Shows of All Time

By Sarah Dobbs

Movies

How Annabelle Comes Home Fits into The Conjuring Universe

By Don Kaye

You probably know the story, and if you don’t you can guess it after decades of copycats that followed, but this special effects-laden spectacle still holds up, especially as a thriller that can be enjoyed by the whole family. Fair warning though, if your kids have a tree outside their window or a clown doll under their bed, we don’t take responsibility for the years of therapy bills this may inflict!

Red Dragon

The often overlooked other child of the Hannibal Lecter movie family, Red Dragon is no The Silence of the Lambs, no matter how much it wishes it was. Nor is it as visually evocative or luscious as Ridley Scott’s decadent Hannibal. Nevertheless, we find this prequel to both films to be at least worthy of association with the former, and ultimately more satisfying than the latter. A definite attempt to reshape Thomas Harris’ first novel to feature the Lecter character into a Silence of the Lambs clone, Red Dragon still has quite a bit to enjoy.

At the top of the list is of course Sir Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal for the third and final time. Definitely his hammiest iteration of the character, even a campy Hopkins is impossible to resist given the not-so-good doctor’s droll wit or distinct taste palate. Director Brett Ratner’s framing around Lecter is competent enough, and he wisely gets a superb supporting cast who can overwhelm any shortcomings.

Edward Norton is a compelling lead FBI detective; Philip Seymour Hoffman is delightfully repellent as a tabloid journalist who suffers a terrifying fate; and Ralph Fiennes roars as the serial killer who inflicts that fate on Hoffman. It may be no Manhunter–Michael Mann’s first adaptation of the source novel–but Red Dragon‘s the one on Netflix. So love the one you’re with!

The Silence of the Lambs

If you are only going to watch one Hannibal Lecter movie, this is the all-time masterpiece which remains the sole horror movie to win an Oscar for Best Picture. An absolutely gripping thriller even 30 years later, Jonathan Demme’s movie is an all-time great because of stellar performances and a sharp screenplay told by an even sharper eye.

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Movies

The Silence of the Lambs: A Thinking Person’s Monster Movie

By Ryan Lambie

Movies

Best Horror Movies on Hulu

By Alec Bojalad and 1 other

Here is the movie that kicked off the serial killer craze in Hollywood during the ’90s. Yet more than the gory details, what lingers in the mind are little things like an opening sequence that introduces Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) as the lone woman on an elevator full of FBI ubermensches, or the way Anthony Hopkins breaks his unrelenting stare to mispronounce “Chianti” with dripping disdain for the Yokel sent to interview him. Every facet of this movie works, and thus it hasn’t aged a day. We do recommend watching it with a side of fava beans, though.

Sinister

One of the better Blumhouse chillers to come out of the 2010s, Sinister is the case of a brilliant elevator pitch meeting a superior pair of talents in director Scott Derrickson and star Ethan Hawke to bring it to life.

The setup of the movie is simple: There is a pagan demon god who will consume the soul of any nearby children whenever someone sees him. And not just him, but recreations of his image on walls. And wouldn’t you know it, true crime journalist Ellison (Hawke) just moved into a house with an attic full of home movies stuffed to the gills with Bughuul. And Ellison’s daughter is right downstairs. Uh oh.

Sleepy Hollow

As much a comedy as a horror film, Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow should always be on the table when discussing October viewing options. After all, this demented reimagining of Washington Irving’s classic short story, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” never forgets the selling point is to have them rolling in the aisles. And more than a few heads do just that.

As a film with the most varied and imaginative uses of decapitation, Sleepy Hollow cuts a bloody path across Upstate New York. In fact, despite its American setting, we might as well confess what Sleepy Hollow really is: a modern version of a Hammer horror movie.

Burton incorporates all of his favorite tropes here: The intentionally stuffy faux-British acting (even though all the characters are of Dutch descent); the exaggerated and formal clothing; more than a few heaving bosoms; and lots and lots of gore. This film is so perfectly macabre and gleefully grotesque that you might even be forgiven for not noticing at first glance how dryly funny and deadpan a place this Sleepy Hollow tends to be.

Splice

What if Dr. Frankenstein banged his monster? That is just one of several creepy elements to Splice, a weird psychosexual sci-fi/horror hybrid. Directed by Vincenzo Natali and starring Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley as the world’s worst scientists, Splice follows two not-so-smart doctors who attempt to play God by creating an entire new species of creature they name Dren (Delphine Chanéac).

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Books

Frankenstein Adaptations Are Almost Never Frankenstein Adaptations

By Kayti Burt

Movies

Best Horror Movies Streaming on HBO Max

By David Crow and 2 others

At first a computer-generated child with alien eyes and a roping tail, Dren soon grows from girl to young woman, seducer to… well, something even more unexpected. Weird, unpleasant, and ultimately unshakable like that one bad dream, Splice plays with ideas of identity, gender, and parenthood.

Sweetheart

Don’t let the name fool you, Sweetheart is very much a horror movie. What kind of horror movie, you ask? Well, after a boat sinks during a storm, young Jennifer Remming (Kiersey Clemons) is the only survivor. She washes ashore a small island and gets to work burying her friends, creating shelter, and foraging for food. You know: deserted island stuff.

Soon, however, Jenn will come to find that the island is not as deserted as she previously thought. There’s something out there – something big, dangerous, and hungry. Sweetheart is like Castaway meets Predator and it’s another indie horror hit for Blumhouse.

Tucker and Dale vs. Evil

Tucker and Dale vs. Evil is a fantastic little satire on the horror genre that, in a similar fashion to Scream, is packed with laughs, gore, and a bit of a message. When a group of preppy college students head out to the backwoods for a camping trip, they stumble upon two good-natured good ol’ boys that they mistake for homicidal hillbillies.

Their quick, off-the-mark judgment of Tucker and Dale lead to these snobs getting themselves into sticky, often bloody, and hilariously over-the-top situations. Tucker and Dale vs. Evil rides a one-joke premise to successful heights and teaches audiences to not judge a book by its cover.

Under the Shadow

This 2016 effort could not possibly be more timely as it sympathizes, and terrorizes, an Iranian single mother and child in 1980s Tehran. Like a draconian travel ban, Shideh (Narges Rashidi) and her son Dorsa (Avin Manshadi) are malevolently targeted by a force of supreme evil.

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Movies

How Jason Blum Changed Horror Movies

By Rosie Fletcher

Movies

The 13 Best Final Girls in Horror Movie History

By David Crow

This occurs after Dorsa’s father, a doctor, is called away to serve the Iranian army in post-revolution and war-torn Iran. In his absence evil seeps in… as does a quality horror movie with heightened emotional weight.

Underworld

No one is going to mistake Underworld for high art. That obvious fact makes the lofty pretensions of these movies all the more endearing. With a cast of high-minded British theatrical actors, many trained in the Royal Shakespeare Company, at least the early movies in this Gothic horror/action mash-up series were overflowing with histrionic self-importance and grandiosity.

Take the first and best in the series. In the margins you have Bill Nighy and Michael Sheen portraying the patriarchs of warring factions of vampires and werewolves, and a love story caught between their violence that’ shamelessly modeled on Romeo and Juliet. It’s ridiculous, especially with Scott Speedman playing one party. But when the other is the oft-underrated Kate Beckinsale it doesn’t matter.

The movie’s bombast becomes the movie’s first virtue, and Len Wiseman’s penchant for glossy slick visuals, which would look at home in the sexiest Eurotrash graphic novel at the bookstore, is its other. Combined they make this a guilty good time. Though we recommend not venturing past the second or third movie.

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1hey are u bored at home, wanna chill and netflix....... but just can’t find some thing nice to watch? here’s a list of movies for u watch

A Ghost Story (2017)

Director David Lowery (Pete's Dragon) conceived this dazzling, dreamy meditation on the afterlife during the off-hours on a Disney blockbuster, making the revelations within even more awe-inspiring. After a fatal accident, a musician (Casey Affleck) finds himself as a sheet-draped spirit, wandering the halls of his former home, haunting/longing for his widowed wife (Rooney Mara). With stylistic quirks, enough winks to resist pretension (a scene where Mara devours a pie in one five-minute, uncut take is both tragic and cheeky), and a soundscape culled from the space-time continuum, A Ghost Story connects the dots between romantic love, the places we call home, and time -- a ghost's worst enemy.

Airplane! (1980)

This is one of the funniest movie of all time. Devised by the jokesters behind The Naked Gun, this disaster movie spoof stuffs every second of runtime with a physical gag (The nun slapping a hysterical woman!), dimwitted wordplay ("Don't call me, Shirley"), an uncomfortable moment of odd behavior ("Joey, have you ever seen a grown man naked?"), or some other asinine bit. The rare comedy that demands repeat viewings, just to catch every micro-sized joke and memorize every line.

A24

American Honey (2016)

Writer/director Andrea Arnold lets you sit shotgun for the travels of a group of wayward youth in American Honey, a seductive drama about a "mag crew" selling subscriptions and falling in and out of love with each other on the road. Seen through the eyes of Star, played by Sasha Lane, life on the Midwest highway proves to be directionless, filled with a stream of partying and steamy hookups in the backs of cars and on the side of the road, especially when she starts to develop feelings for Shia LaBeouf’s rebellious Jake. It’s an honest look at a group of disenfranchised young people who are often cast aside, and it’s blazing with energy. You’ll buy what they're selling.

Anna Karenina (2012)

Adapted by renowned playwright Tom Stoppard, this take on Leo Tolstoy's classic Russian novel is anything but stuffy, historical drama. Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Domhnall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander are all overflowing with passion and desire, heating up the chilly backdrop of St. Petersburg. But it's director Joe Wright's unique staging -- full of dance, lush costuming, fourth-wall-breaking antics, and other theatrical touches -- that reinvent the story for more daring audiences.

NETFLIX

Apostle (2018)

For his follow-up to his two action epics, The Raid and The Raid 2, director Gareth Evans dials back the hand-to-hand combat but still keeps a few buckets of blood handy in this grisly supernatural horror tale. Dan Stevens stars as Thomas Richardson, an early 20th century opium addict traveling to a cloudy island controlled by a secretive cult that's fallen on hard times. The religious group is led by a bearded scold named Father Malcolm (Michael Sheen) who may or may not be leading his people astray. Beyond a few bursts of kinetic violence and some crank-filled torture sequences, Evans plays this story relatively down-the-middle, allowing the performances, the lofty themes, and the windswept vistas to do the talking. It's a cult movie that earns your devotion slowly, then all at once.

Back to the Future (1985)

Buckle into Doc's DeLorean and head to the 1950s by way of 1985 with the seminal time-travel series that made Michael J. Fox a household name. It's always a joy watching Marty McFly's race against the clock way-back-when to ensure history runs its course and he can get back to the present. Netflix also has follow-up Parts II and III, which all add up to a perfect rainy afternoon marathon.

NETFLIX

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)

The Coen brothers gave some big-name-director cred to Netflix by releasing their six-part Western anthology on the streaming service, and while it's not necessarily their best work, Buster Scruggs is clearly a cut above most Netflix originals. Featuring star turns from Liam Neeson, Tom Waits, Zoe Kazan, and more, the film takes advantage of Netflix's willingness to experiment by composing a sort of death fugue that unfolds across the harsh realities of life in Manifest Destiny America. Not only does it revel in the massive, sweeping landscapes of the American West, but it's a thoughtful meditation on death that will reveal layer after layer long after you finish.

Barbershop (2002)

If you've been sleeping on the merits of the Barbershop movies, the good news is it's never too late to get caught up. Revisit the 2002 installment that started Ice Cube's smack-talking franchise so you can bask in Cedric the Entertainer's hilarious wisdom, enjoy Eve's acting debut, and admire this joyful ode to community.

NETFLIX

Barry (2016)

In 1981, Barack Obama touched down in New York City to begin work at Columbia University. As Barry imagines, just days after settling into his civics class, a white classmate confronts the Barry with an argument one will find in the future president's Twitter @-mentions: "Why does everything always got to be about slavery?" Exaltation is cinematic danger, especially when bringing the life of a then-sitting president to screen. Barry avoids hagiography by staying in the moment, weighing race issues of a modern age and quieting down for the audience to draw its own conclusions. Devon Terrell is key, steadying his character as smooth-operating, socially active, contemplative fellow stuck in an interracial divide. Barry could be any half-black, half-white kid from the '80s. But in this case, he's haunted by past, present, and future.

Being John Malkovich (1999)

You can't doubt the audacity of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Anomalisa), whose first produced screenplay hinged on attracting the title actor to a script that has office drones discovering a portal into his mind. John Cusack, Catherine Keener, and Cameron Diaz combine to create an atmosphere of desperate, egomaniacal darkness, and by the end you'll feel confused and maybe a little slimy about the times you've participated in celebrity gawking.

A24

The Blackcoat's Daughter (2017)

Two young women are left behind at school during break... and all sorts of hell breaks loose. This cool, stylish thriller goes off in some strange directions (and even offers a seemingly unrelated subplot about a mysterious hitchhiker) but it all pays off in the end, thanks in large part to the three leads -- Emma Roberts, Lucy Boynton, and Kiernan Shipka -- and director Oz Perkins' artful approach to what could have been just another occult-based gore-fest.

Bloodsport (1988)

Jean-Claude Van Damme made a career out of good-not-great fluff. Universal Soldier is serviceable spectacle, Hard Target is a living cartoon, Lionheart is his half-baked take on On the Waterfront. Bloodsport, which owes everything to the legacy of Bruce Lee, edges out his Die Hard riff Sudden Death for his best effort, thanks to muscles-on-top-of-muscles-on-top-of-muscles fighting and Stan Bush's "Fight to Survive." Magic Mike has nothing on Van Damme's chiseled backside in Bloodsport, which flexes its way through a slow-motion karate-chop gauntlet. In his final face-off, Van Damme, blinded by arena dust, rage-screams his way to victory. The amount of adrenaline bursting out of Bloodsport demands a splash zone.

Blue Ruin (2013)

Before he went punk with 2016's siege thriller Green Room, director Jeremy Saulnier delivered this low-budget, darkly comic hillbilly noir. When Dwight Evans (Macon Blair) discovers that the man who killed his parents is being released from prison, he returns home to Virginia to claims his revenge and things quickly spin out of control. Like the Coen Brothers' Blood Simple, this wise-ass morality tale will make you squirm.

WELL GO USA ENTERTAINMEN

Burning (2018)

Some mysteries simmer; this one smolders. In his adaptation of a Haruki Murakami short story, writer and director Lee Chang-dong includes many elements of the acclaimed author's slyly mischievous style -- cats, jazz, cooking, and an alienated male writer protagonist all pop up -- but he also invests the material with his own dark humor, stray references to contemporary news, and an unyielding sense of curiosity. We follow aimless aspiring novelist Lee Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in) as he reconnects with Shin Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo), a young woman he grew up with, but the movie never lets you get too comfortable in one scene or setting. When Steven Yeun's Ben, a handsome rich guy with a beautiful apartment and a passion for burning down greenhouses, appears, the film shifts to an even more tremulous register. Can Ben be trusted? Yeun's performance is perfectly calibrated to entice and confuse, like he's a suave, pyromaniac version of Tyler Durden. Each frame keeps you guessing.

Cam (2018)

Unlike the Unfriended films or this summer's indie hit Searching, this web thriller from director Daniel Goldhaber and screenwriter Isa Mazzei isn't locked into the visual confines of a computer screen. Though there's plenty of online screen time, allowing for subtle bits of commentary and satire, the looser style allows the filmmakers to really explore the life and work conditions of their protagonist, rising cam girl Alice (Madeline Brewer). We meet her friends, her family, and her customers. That type of immersion in the granular details makes the scarier bits -- like an unnerving confrontation in the finale between Alice and her evil doppelganger -- pop even more.

THE ORCHARD

Creep (2014)

Patrick Brice's found-footage movie is a no-budget answer to a certain brand of horror, but saying more would give away its sinister turns. Just know that the man behind the camera answered a Craigslist ad to create a "day in the life" video diary for Josef (Mark Duplass), who really loves life. Creep proves that found footage, the indie world's no-budget genre solution, still has life, as long as you have a performer like Duplass willing to go all the way.

The Death of Stalin (2017)

Armando Iannucci, the brilliant Veep creator, set his sights on Russia with this savage political satire. Based on a graphic novel, the film dramatizes the madcap, maniacal plots of the men jostling for power after their leader, Joseph Stalin, keels over. From there, backstabbing, furious insults, and general chaos unfolds. Anchored by performances from Shakespearean great Simon Russell Beale and American icon Steve Buscemi, it's a pleasure to see what the rest of the cast -- from Star Trek: Discovery's Jason Isaacs to Homeland's Rupert Friend -- do with Iannucci's eloquently brittle text.

Den of Thieves (2018)

If there's one thing you've probably heard about this often ridiculous bank robbery epic, it's that it steals shamelessly from Michael Mann's crime saga Heat. The broad plot elements are similar: There's a team of highly-efficient criminals led by a former Marine (Pablo Schreiber) and they must contend with a obsessive, possibly unhinged cop (Gerard Butler) over the movie's lengthy 140 minute runtime.  A screenwriter helming a feature for the first time, director Christian Gudegast is not in the same league as Mann as a filmmaker and Butler, sporting unflattering tattoos and a barrel-like gut, is hardly Al Pacino. But everyone is really going for it here, attempting to squeeze every ounce of Muscle Milk from the bottle.

NETFLIX

Divines (2016)

Thrillers don't come much more propulsive or elegant than Houda Benyamina's Divines, a heartwarming French drama about female friendship that spirals into a pulse-pounding crime saga. Rambunctious teenager Dounia (Oulaya Amamra) and her best friend Maimouna (Déborah Lukumuena) begin the film as low-level shoplifters and thieves, but once they fall into the orbit of a slightly older, seasoned drug dealer named Rebecca (Jisca Kalvanda), they're on a Goodfellas-like trajectory. Benyamina offsets the violent, gritty genre elements with lyrical passages where Dounia watches her ballet-dancer crush rehearse his routines from afar, and kinetic scenes of the young girls goofing off on social media. It's a cautionary tale told with joy, empathy, and an eye for beauty.

Dolemite Is My Name (2019)

Eddie Murphy has been waiting years to get this movie about comedian and blaxploitation star Rudy Ray Moore made, and you can feel his joy in finally getting to play this role every second he's on screen. The film, directed by Hustle & Flow's Craig Brewer, charts how Moore rose from record store employee, to successful underground comedian, to making his now-cult classic feature Dolemite by sheer force of passion. It's thrilling (and hilarious) to watch Murphy adopt Moore's Dolemite persona, a swaggering pimp, but it's just as satisfying to see the former SNL star capture his character at his lowest points. He's surrounded by an ensemble that matches his infectious energy.

The Edge of Seventeen (2016)

As romanticized as adolescence can be, it’s hard being young. Following the high school experience of troubled, overdramatic Nadine (Hailee Steinfeld), The Edge of Seventeen portrays the woes of adolescence with a tender, yet appropriately cheeky tone. As if junior year isn’t hellish enough, the universe essentially bursts into flames when Nadine finds out her best friend is dating her brother; their friendship begins to dissolve, and she finds the only return on young love is embarrassment and pain. That may all sound like a miserable premise for a young-adult movie, except it’s all painfully accurate, making it endearingly hilarious -- and there’s so much to love about Steinfeld’s self-aware performance.

FOCUS FEATURES

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

Romance and love are nothing without the potential for loss and pain, but most of us would probably still consider cutting away all the worst memories of the latter. Given the option to eradicate memories of their busted relationship, Jim Carrey's Joel and Kate Winslet's Clementine go through with the procedure, only to find themselves unable to totally let go. Science fiction naturally lends itself to clockwork mechanisms, but director Michel Gondry and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman never lose the human touch as they toy with the kaleidoscope of their characters' hearts and minds.

The Evil Dead (1981)

Before Bruce Campbell's Ash was wielding his chainsaw-arm in Army of Darkness and on Starz's Ash Vs. Evil Dead, he was just a good looking guy hoping to spend a nice, quiet vacation in a cabin with some friends. Unfortunately, the book of the dead had other plans for him. With this low-budget horror classic, director Sam Raimi brings a surprising degree of technical ingenuity to bear on the splatter-film, sending his camera zooming around the woods with wonder and glee. While the sequels double-downed on laughs, the original Evil Dead still knows how to scare.

The Firm (1993)

The '90s were a golden era of sleek, movie-star-packed legal thrillers, and they don't get much better than director Sydney Pollack's The Firm. This John Grisham adaptation has a little bit of everything -- tax paperwork, sneering mobsters, and Garey Busey, for starters -- but there's one reason to watch this movie: the weirdness of Tom Cruise. He does a backflip in this movie. What else do you need to know?

A24

The Florida Project (2017)

Sean Baker's The Florida Project nuzzles into the swirling, sunny, strapped-for-cash populace of a mauve motel just within orbit of Walt Disney World. His eyes are Moonee, a 6-year-old who adventures through abandoned condos, along strip mall-encrusted highway, and across verdant fields of overgrown brush like Max in Where the Wild Things Are. But as gorgeous as the everything appears -- and The Florida Project looks stunning -- the world around here is falling apart, beginning with her mother, an ex-stripper turning to prostitution. The juxtaposition, and down-to-earth style, reconsiders modern America in the most electrifying way imaginable.

Frances Ha (2012)

Before winning hearts and Oscar nominations with her coming-of-age comedy Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig starred in the perfect companion film, about an aimless 27-year-old who hops from New York City to her hometown of Sacramento to Paris to Poughkeepsie and eventually back to New York in hopes of stumbling into the perfect job, the perfect relationship, and the perfect life. Directed by Noah Baumbach (The Meyerowitz Stories), and co-written by both, Frances Ha is a measured look at adult-ish life captured the kind of intoxicating black and white world we dream of living in.

NETFLIX

Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened (2019)

Everyone's favorite disaster of a festival received not one, but two streaming documentaries in the same week. Netflix's version has rightly faced some criticism over its willingness to let marketing company Fuck Jerry off the hook (Jerry Media produced the doc), but that doesn't take away from the overall picture it portrays of the festival's haphazard planning and the addiction to grift from which Fyre's founder, Billy McFarland, apparently suffers. It's schadenfreude at its best.

Gerald's Game (2017)

Like his previous low-budget Netflix-released horror release, Hush, a captivity thriller about a deaf woman fighting off a masked intruder, Mike Flanagan's Stephen King adaptation of Gerald's Game wrings big scares from a small location. Sticking close to the grisly plot details of King's seemingly "unfilmable" novel, the movie chronicles the painstaking struggles of Jessie Burlingame (Carla Gugino) after she finds herself handcuffed to a bed in an isolated vacation home when her husband, the titular Gerald, dies from a heart attack while enacting his kinky sexual fantasies. She's trapped -- and that's it. The premise is clearly challenging to sustain for a whole movie, but Flanagan and Gugino turn the potentially one-note set-up into a forceful, thoughtful meditation on trauma, memory, and resilience in the face of near-certain doom.

A24

Good Time (2017)

In this greasy, cruel thriller from Uncut Gems directors the Safdie brothers, Robert Pattinson stars as Connie, a bank robber who races through Queens to find enough money to bail out his mentally disabled brother, who's locked up for their last botched job. Each suffocating second of Good Time, blistered by the neon backgrounds of Queens, New York and propelled by warped heartbeat of Oneothrix Point Never's synth score, finds Connie evading authorities by tripping into an even stickier situation.

Green Room (2015)

Green Room is a throaty, thrashing, spit-slinging punk tune belted through an invasion-movie microphone at max volume. It's nasty -- and near-perfect. As a band of 20-something rockstars recklessly defend against a neo-Nazi battalion equipped with machetes, shotguns, and snarling guard dogs, the movie blossoms into a savage coming-of-age tale, an Almost Famous for John Carpenter nuts. Anyone looking for similar mayhem should check out director Jeremy Saulnier's previous movie, the low-budget, darkly comic hillbilly noir, Blue Ruin, also streaming on Netflix.

The Guest (2014)

After writer-director Adam Wingard notched a semi-sleeper horror hit with 2011's You're Next, he'd earned a certain degree of goodwill among genre faithful and, apparently, with studio brass. How else to explain distribution for his atypical thriller The Guest through Time Warner subsidiary Picturehouse? Headlined by soon-to-be megastar Dan Stevens and kindred flick It Follows' lead scream queen Maika Monroe, The Guest introduces itself as a subtextual impostor drama, abruptly spins through a blender of '80s teen tropes, and ultimately reveals its true identity as an expertly self-conscious straight-to-video shoot 'em up, before finally circling back on itself with a well-earned wink. To say anymore about the hell that Stevens' "David" unleashes on a small New Mexico town would not only spoil the fun, but possibly get you killed.

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The Hateful Eight (2015)

Quentin Tarantino has something to say about race, violence, and American life, and it's going to ruffle feathers. Like Django Unchained, the writer-director reflects modern times on the Old West, but with more scalpel-sliced dialogue, profane poetry, and gore. Stewed from bits of Agatha Christie, David Mamet, and Sam Peckinpah, The Hateful Eight traps a cast of blowhards (including Samuel L. Jackson as a Civil War veteran, Kurt Russell as a bounty hunter known as "The Hangman," and Jennifer Jason Leigh as a psychopathic gang member) in a blizzard-enveloped supply station. Tarantino ups the tension by shooting his suffocating space in "glorious 70mm." Treachery and moral compromise never looked so good.

High Flying Bird (2019)

High Flying Bird is a basketball film that has little to do with the sport itself, instead focusing on the behind-the-scenes power dynamics that play out during an NBA lockout. At the center of the Steven Soderbergh movie -- shot on an iPhone, because that's what he does now -- is André Holland's Ray Burke, a sports agent trying to protect his client's interests while also disrupting a corrupt system. It's not an easy tightrope to walk, and, as you might expect, the conditions of the labor stoppage constantly change the playing field. With his iPhone mirroring the NBA's social media-heavy culture, and appearances from actual NBA stars lending the narrative heft, Soderbergh experiments with Netflix's carte blanche and produces a unique film that adds to the streaming service's growing list of original critical hits.

PARAMOUNT PICTURES

Hugo (2011)

Martin Scorsese hit pause on mob violence and Rolling Stones singles to deliver one of the greatest kid-centric films in eons. Following Hugo (Asa Butterfield) as he traces his own origin story through cryptic automaton clues and early 20th-century movie history, the grand vision wowed in 3-D and still packs a punch at home.

I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House (2016)

A meditative horror flick that's more unsettling than outright frightening, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House follows the demise of Lily, a live-in nurse (Ruth Wilson) who's caring for an ailing horror author. As Lily discovers the truth about the writer's fiction and home, the lines between the physical realm and the afterlife blur. The movie's slow pacing and muted escalation might frustrate viewers craving showy jump-scares, but writer-director Oz Perkins is worth keeping tabs on. He brings a beautiful eeriness to every scene, and his story will captivate patient streamers. Fans should be sure to check out his directorial debut, The Blackcoat's Daughter.

NETFLIX

I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore (2017)

In this maniacal mystery, Ruth (Melanie Lynskey), a nurse, and her rattail-sporting, weapon-obsessed neighbor Tony (Elijah Wood) hunt down a local burglar. Part Cormac McCarthy thriller, part wacky, Will Ferrell-esque comedy, I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore is a cathartic neo-noir about everyday troubles. Director Macon Blair's not the first person to find existential enlightenment at the end of an amateur detective tale, but he might be the first to piece one together from cussing octogenarians, ninja stars, Google montages, gallons of Big Red soda, upper-deckers, friendly raccoons, exploding body parts, and the idiocy of humanity.

Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

With a bullwhip, a leather jacket, and an "only Harrison Ford can pull this off" fedora, director Steven Spielberg invented the modern Hollywood action film by doing what he does best: looking backward. As obsessed as his movie-brat pal and collaborator George Lucas with the action movie serials of their youth, the director mined James Bond, Humphrey Bogart, Westerns, and his hatred of Nazis to create an adventure classic. To watch Raiders of the Lost Ark now is to marvel at the ingenuity of specific sequences (the boulder! The truck scene! The face-melting!) and simply groove to the self-deprecating comic tone (snakes! Karen Allen! That swordsman Indy shoots!). The past has never felt so alive.

Inside Man (2006)

Denzel Washington is at his wily, sharp, and sharply dressed best as he teams up once again with Spike Lee for this wildly entertaining heist thriller. He's an NYPD hostage negotiator who discovers a whole bunch of drama when a crew of robbers (led by Clive Owen) takes a bank hostage during a 24-hour period. Jodie Foster also appears as an interested party with uncertain motivations. You'll have to figure out what's going on several times over before the truth outs.

DRAFTHOUSE FILMS

The Invitation (2015)

This slow-burn horror-thriller preys on your social anxiety. The film's first half-hour, which finds Quarry's Logan Marshall-Green arriving at his ex-wife's house to meet her new husband, plays like a Sundance dramedy about 30-something yuppies and their relationship woes. As the minutes go by, director Karyn Kusama (Jennifer's Body) burrows deeper into the awkward dinner party, finding tension in unwelcome glances, miscommunication, and the possibility that Marshall-Green's character might be misreading a bizarre situation as a dangerous one. We won't spoil what happens, but let's just say this is a party you'll be telling your friends about.

Ip Man (2008)

There aren't many biopics that also pass for decent action movies. Somehow, Hong Kong action star Donnie Yen and director Wilson Yip made Ip Man (and three sequels!) based on the life of Chinese martial arts master Yip Kai-man, who famously trained Bruce Lee. What's their trick to keeping this series fresh? Play fast and loose with the facts, up the melodrama with each film, and, when in doubt, cast Mike Tyson as an evil property developer. The fights are incredible, and Yen's portrayal of the aging master still has the power to draw a few tears from even the most grizzled tough guy.

NETFLIX

The Irishman (2019)

Opening with a tracking shot through the halls of a drab nursing home, where we meet a feeble old man telling tall tales from his wheelchair, The Irishman delights in undercutting its own grandiosity. All the pageantry a $150 million check from Netflix can buy -- the digital de-aging effects, the massive crowd scenes, the shiny rings passed between men -- is on full display. Everything looks tremendous. But, like with 2013's The Wolf of Wall Street, the characters can't escape the fundamental spiritual emptiness of their pursuits. In telling the story of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), a World War II veteran and truck driver turned mob enforcer and friend to labor leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), director Martin Scorsese and screenwriter Steven Zaillian construct an underworld-set counter-narrative of late 20th century American life. Even with a 209 minute runtime, every second counts.

It Comes at Night (2017)

In this post-apocalyptic nightmare-and-a-half, the horrors of humanity, the strain of chaotic emotions pent up in the name of survival, bleed out through wary eyes and weathered hands. The setup is blockbuster-sized -- reverts mankind to the days of the American frontier, every sole survivor fights to protect their families and themselves -- but the drama is mano-a-mano. Barricaded in a haunted-house-worthy cabin in the woods, Paul (Edgerton) takes in Will (Abbott) and his family, knowing full well they could threaten his family's existence. All the while, Paul's son, Trevor, battles bloody visions of (or induced by?) the contagion. Shults directs the hell out of every slow-push frame of this psychological thriller, and the less we know, the more confusion feels like a noose around our necks, the scarier his observations become.

WARNER BROS. PICTURES

Jupiter Ascending (2015)

Jupiter Ascending is one of those "bad" movies that might genuinely be quite good. Yes, Channing Tatum is a man-wolf and Mila Kunis is the princess of space and bees don't sting space royalty and Eddie Redmayne hollers his little head off about "harvesting" people -- but what makes this movie great is how all of those things make total, absolute sense in the context of the story. The world the Wachowskis (yes, the Wachowskis!) created is so vibrant and strange and exciting, you almost can't help but get drawn in, even when Redmayne vamps so hard you're afraid he's about to pull a muscle. (And if you're a ballet fan, we have some good news for you.)

Jurassic Park (1993)

Perhaps the only movie that ever truly deserved a conversion to a theme-park ride, Steven Spielberg's thrilling adaptation of the Michael Crichton novel brought long-extinct creatures back to life in more ways than one. Benevolent Netflix gives us more than just the franchise starter, too: The Lost World and JP3 sequels are also available, so you can make a marathon of it.

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Killing Them Softly (2012)

Brad Pitt doesn't make conventional blockbusters anymore -- even World War Z had epidemic-movie ambitions -- so it's not surprising that this crime thriller is a little out there. Set during the financial crisis and presidential election of 2008, the film follows Pitt's hitman character as he makes sense of a poker heist gone wrong, leaving a trail of bodies and one-liners along the way. Mixed in with the carnage, you get lots of musings about the economy and American exceptionalism. It's not subtle -- there's a scene where Scoot McNairy and Ben Mendelsohn do heroin while the Velvet Underground's "Heroin" plays -- but, like a blunt object to the head, it gets the job done.

Lady Bird (2017)

The dizzying, frustrating, exhilarating rite of passage that is senior year of high school is the focus of actress Greta Gerwig's first directorial effort, the story of girl named Lady Bird (her given name, in that "it’s given to me, by me") who rebels against everyday Sacramento, California life to obtain whatever it is "freedom" turns out to be. Laurie Metcalf is an understated powerhouse as Lady Bird's mother, a constant source of contention who doggedly pushes her daughter to be successful in the face of the family's dwindling economic resources. It's a tragic note in total complement to Gerwig's hysterical love letter to home, high school, and the history of ourselves.

A24

The Lobster (2016)

Greek style master Yorgos Lanthimos' dystopian allegory against romance sees Colin Farrell forced to choose a partner in 45 days or he'll be turned into an animal of his choice, which is a lobster. Stuck in a group home with similarly unlucky singles, Farrell's David decides to bust out and join other renegades in a kind of anti-love terror cell that lives in the woods. It's part comedy of manners, part futuristic thriller, and it looks absolutely beautiful -- Lanthimos handles the bizarre premise with grace and a naturalistic eye that reminds the viewer that humans remain one of the most interesting animals to exist on this planet.

Mad Max (1979)

Before Tom Hardy was grunting his way through the desert and crushing tiny two-headed reptiles as Max Rockatansky, there was Mel Gibson. George Miller's 1979 original introduces the iconic character and paints the maximum force of his dystopian mythology in a somewhat more grounded light -- Australian police factions, communities, and glimmers of hope still in existence. Badass homemade vehicles and chase scenes abound in this taut, 88-minute romp. It's aged just fine.

Magic Mike (2012)

Steven Soderbergh's story of a Tampa exotic dancer with a heart of gold (Channing Tatum) has body-rolled its way to Netflix. Sexy dance routines aside, Mike's story is just gritty enough to be subversive. Did we mention Matthew McConaughey shows up in a pair of ass-less chaps?

The Master (2012)

Loosely inspired by the life of Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard -- Dianetics buffs, we strongly recommend Alex Gibney's Going Clear documentary as a companion piece -- The Master boasts one of the late Philip Seymour Hoffman’s finest performances, as the enigmatic cult leader Lancaster Dodd. Joaquin Phoenix burns just as brightly as his emotionally stunted, loose-cannon protege Freddie Quell, who has a taste for homemade liquor. Paul Thomas Anderson’s cerebral epic lends itself to many different readings; it’s a cult story, it's a love story, it's a story about post-war disillusionment and the American dream, it's a story of individualism and the desire to belong. But the auteur's popping visuals and heady thematic currents will still sweep you away, even if you’re not quite sure where the tide is taking you.

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The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) (2017)

When Danny (Adam Sandler), Matthew (Ben Stiller) and Jean (Elizabeth Marvel), three half-siblings from three different mothers, gather at their family brownstone in New York to tend to their ailing father (Dustin Hoffman), a lifetime of familial politics explode out of every minute of conversation. Their narcissistic sculptor dad didn't have time for Danny. Matthew was the golden child. Jean was weird… or maybe disturbed by memories no one ever knew. Expertly sketched by writer-director Noah Baumbach (The Squid and the Whale) this memoir-like portrait of lives half-lived is the kind of bittersweet, dimensional character comedy we're now used to seeing told in three seasons of prestige television. Baumbach gives us the whole package in two hours.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

The legendary British comedy troupe took the legend of King Arthur and offered a characteristically irreverent take on it in their second feature film. It's rare for comedy to hold up this well, but the timelessness of lines like, "I fart in your general direction!" "It's just a flesh wound," and "Run away!" makes this a movie worth watching again and again.

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Moonlight (2016)

Chronicling the boyhood years, teenage stretch, and muted adult life of Chiron, a black gay man making it in Miami, this triptych altarpiece is at once hyper-specific and cosmically universal. Director Barry Jenkins roots each moment in the last; Chiron's desire for a lost lover can't burn in a diner booth over a bottle of wine without his beachside identity crisis years prior, blurred and violent, or encounters from deeper in his past, when glimpses of his mother's drug addiction, or the mentoring acts of her crack supplier, felt like secrets delivered in code. Panging colors, sounds, and the delicate movements of its perfect cast like the notes of a symphony, Moonlight is the real deal, a movie that will only grow and complicate as you wrestle with it.

Mudbound (2017)

The South's post-slavery existence is, for Hollywood, mostly uncharted territory. Rees rectifies the overlooked stretch of history with this novelistic drama about two Mississippi families working a rain-drenched farm in 1941. The white McAllans settle on a muddy patch of land to realize their dreams. The Jacksons, a family of black sharecroppers working the land, have their own hopes, which their neighbors manage to nurture and curtail. To capture a multitude of perspectives, Mudbound weaves together specific scenes of daily life, vivid and memory-like, with family member reflections, recorded in whispered voice-over. The epic patchwork stretches from the Jackson family dinner table, where the youngest daughter dreams of becoming a stenographer, to the vistas of Mississippi, where incoming storms threaten an essential batch of crops, to the battlefields of World War II Germany, a harrowing scene that will affect both families. Confronting race, class, war, and the possibility of unity, Mudbound spellbinding drama reckons with the past to understand the present.

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My Happy Family (2017)

At 52, Manana (Ia Shughliashvili) packs a bag and walks out on her husband, son, daughter, daughter's live-in boyfriend, and elderly mother and father, all of whom live together in a single apartment. The family is cantankerous and blustery, asking everything of Manana, who spends her days teaching better-behaved teenagers about literature. But as Nana Ekvtimishvili and Simon Groß's striking character study unfolds, the motivation behind Manana's departure is a deeper strain of frustration, despite what her brother, aunts, uncles, and anyone else who can cram themselves into the situation would like us to think. Anchored by Ia Shughliashvili's stunningly internal performance, and punctured by a dark sense of humor akin to Darren Aronofsky's mother! (which would have been the perfect alternate title), My Happy Family is both delicate and brutal in its portrayal of independence, and should get under the skin of anyone with their own family drama.

The Naked Gun (1988)

The short-lived Dragnet TV spoof Police Squad! found a second life as The Naked Gun action-comedy movie franchise, and the first installment goes all in on Airplane! co-star Leslie Nielsen's brand of straight-laced dementia. Trying to explain The Naked Gun only makes the stupid sound stupider, but keen viewers will find jokes on top of jokes on top of jokes. It's the kind of movie that can crack "nice beaver," then pass a stuffed beaver through the frame and actually get away with it. Nielsen has everything to do with it; his Frank Drebin continues the grand Inspector Clouseau tradition in oh-so-'80s style.

The Notebook (2004)

"If you’re a bird, I’m a bird." It's a simple statement and a declaration of devotion that captures the staying power of this Nicholas Sparks classic. The film made Ryan Gosling a certified heartthrob, charting his working class character Noah's lovelorn romance with Rachel McAdam's wealthy character Allie. The star-crossed lovers narrative is enough to make even the most cynical among us swoon, but given that their story is told through an elderly man reading (you guessed it!) a notebook to a woman with dementia, it hits all of the tragic romance benchmarks to make you melt. Noah's commitment to following his heart -- and that passionate kiss in the rain -- make this a love story for the ages.

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Okja (2017)

This wild ride, part action heist, part Miyazaki-like travelogue, and part scathing satire, is fueled by fairy tale whimsy -- but the Grimm kind, where there are smiles and spilled blood. Ahn Seo-hyun plays Mija, the young keeper of a "super-pig," bred by a food manufacturer to be the next step in human-consumption evolution. When the corporate overlords come for her roly-poly pal, Mija hightails it from the farm to the big city to break him out, crossing environmental terrorists, a zany Steve Irwin-type (Gyllenhaal), and the icy psychos at the top of the food chain (including Swinton's childlike CEO) along the way. Okja won't pluck your heartstrings like E.T., but there's grandeur in its frenzy, and the film's cross-species friendship will strike up every other emotion with its empathetic, eco-friendly, and eccentric observations.

On Body and Soul (2017)

This Hungarian film earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film, and it's easy to see why. The sparse love story begins when two slaughterhouse employees discover they have the same dream at night, in which they're both deer searching the winter forest for food. Endre, a longtime executive at the slaughterhouse, has a physically damaged arm, whereas Maria is a temporary replacement who seems to be on the autism spectrum. If the setup sounds a bit on-the-nose, the moving performances and the unflinching direction save On Body and Soul from turning into a Thomas Aquinas 101 class, resulting in the kind of bleak beauty you can find in a dead winter forest.

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The Other Side of the Wind (2018)

Don't go into Orson Welles' final film expecting it to be an easy watch. The Other Side of the Wind, which follows fictional veteran Hollywood director Jake Hannaford (tooootally not modeled after Welles himself) and his protegé (also tooootally not a surrogate for Welles' own friend and mentee Peter Bogdanovich, who also plays the character) as they attend a party in celebration of Hannaford's latest film and are beset on all sides by Hannaford's friends, enemies, and everyone in between. The film, which Welles hoped would be his big comeback to Hollywood, was left famously unfinished for decades after his death in 1985. Thanks to Bogdanovich and producer Frank Marshall, it was finally completed in 2018, and the result is a vibrant and bizarre throwback to Welles' own experimental 1970s style, made even more resonant if you know how intertwined the movie is with its own backstory. If you want to dive even deeper, Netflix also released a documentary about the restoration and completion of the film, They'll Love Me When I'm Dead, which delves into Welles' own complicated and tragic relationship with Hollywood and the craft of moviemaking.

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Guillermo Del Toro’s dark odyssey Pan’s Labyrinth takes a fantasy setting to mirror the horrible political realities of the human realm. Set in 1940s Falangist Spain, the film documents the hero’s journey of a young girl and stepdaughter of a ruthless Spanish army officer as she seeks an escape from her war-occupied world. When a fairy informs her that her true destiny may be as the princess of the underworld, she seizes her chance. Like Alice in Wonderland if Alice had gone to Hell instead of down the rabbit hole, the Academy Award-winning film is a wondrous, frightening fairy tale where that depicts how perilous the human-created monster of war can be.

Paranormal Activity (2007)

This documentary-style film budgeted at a mere $15,000 made millions at the box office and went on to inspire a number of sequels, all because of how well its scrappiness lent to capturing what feels like a terrifying haunted reality. Centered on a young couple who is convinced an evil spirit is lurking in their home, the two attempt to capture its activity on camera, which, obviously, only makes their supernatural matters worse. It leans on found footage horror tropes made popular by The Blair Witch Project and as it tessellates between showing the viewer what’s captured on their camcorders and the characters’ perspectives, it’s easy to get lost in this disorienting supernatural thriller.

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Poltergeist (1982)

If you saw Poltergeist growing up, chances are you’re probably equally as haunted by Heather O’Rourke as she is in the film, playing a little girl tormented by ghosts in her family home. This Steven Spielberg-penned, Tobe Hooper-directed (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) paranormal flick is a certified cult classic and one of the best horror films of all time, coming from a simple premise about a couple whose home is infested with spirits obsessed with reclaiming the space and kidnapping their daughter. Poltergeist made rearranged furniture freaky, and you may remember a particularly iconic scene with a fuzzed out vintage television set. It’s may be nearly 40 years old, but the creepiness holds up.

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Taking Jane Austen's literary classic and tricking it out with gorgeous long takes, director Joe Wright turns this tale of manners into a visceral, luminescent portrait of passion and desire. While Succession's Matthew MacFadyen might not make you forget Colin Firth from 1995's BBC adaptation, Keira Knightley is a revelation as the tough, nervy Lizzie Bennett. With fun supporting turns from Donald Sutherland, Rosamund Pike, and Judi Dench, it's a sumptuous period romance that transports you from the couch to the ballroom of your dreams -- without changing out of sweatpants.

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Private Life (2018)

Over a decade since the release of her last dark comedy, The Savages, writer and director Tamara Jenkins returned with a sprawling movie in the same vein: more hyper-verbal jerks you can't help but love. Richard (Paul Giamatti) and Rachel (Kathryn Hahn) are a Manhattan-dwelling couple who have spent the last few years attempting to have a baby with little success. When we meet them, they're already in the grips of fertility mania, willing to try almost anything to secure the offspring they think they desire. With all the details about injections, side effects, and pricey medical procedures, the movie functions as a taxonomy of modern pregnancy anxieties, and Hahn brings each part of the process to glorious life.

The Ritual (2018)

The Ritual, a horror film where a group of middle-aged men embark on a hiking trip in honor of a dead friend, understands the tension between natural beauty of the outdoors and the unsettling panic of the unknown. The group's de facto leader Luke (an understated Rafe Spall) attempts to keep the adventure from spiralling out of control, but the forest has other plans. (Maybe brush up on your Scandinavian mythology before viewing.) Like a backpacking variation on Neil Marshall's 2005 cave spelunking classic The Descent, The Ritual deftly explores inter-personal dynamics while delivering jolts of other-worldly terror. It'll have you rethinking that weekend getaway on your calendar.

NETFLIX

Roma (2018)

All those billions Netflix spent paid off in the form of several Oscar nominations for Roma, including one for Best Picture and a win for Best Director. Whether experienced in the hushed reverence of a theater, watched on the glowing screen of a laptop, or, as Netflix executive Ted Sarandos has suggested, binged on the perilous surface of a phone, Alfonso Cuarón's black-and-white passion project seeks to stun. A technical craftsman of the highest order, the Children of Men and Gravity director has an aesthetic that aims to overwhelm -- with the amount of extras, the sense of despair, and the constant whir of exhilaration -- and this autobiographical portrait of kind-hearted maid Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) caring for a family in the early 1970s has been staged on a staggering, mind-boggling scale.

Schindler's List (1993)

A passion project for Steven Spielberg, who shot it back-to-back with another masterpiece, Jurassic Park, Schindler's List tells the story of Oskar Schindler, a German businessman who reportedly saved over 1,200 Jews during the Holocaust. Frank, honest, and stark in its depiction of Nazi violence, the three-hour historical drama is a haunting reminder of the world's past, every frame a relic, every lost voice channeled through Itzhak Perlman's mourning violin.

A Serious Man (2009)

This dramedy from the Coen brothers stars Michael Stuhlbarg as Larry Gopnik, a Midwestern physics professor who just can't catch a break, whether it's with his wife, his boss, or his rabbi. (Seriously, if you're having a bad day, this airy flick gives you ample time to brood and then come to the realization that your life isn't as shitty as you think.) Meditating on the spiritual and the temporal, Gopnik's improbable run of bad luck is a smart modern retelling of the Book of Job, with more irony and fewer plagues and pestilences. But not much fewer.

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Shadow (2019)

In Shadow, the visually stunning action epic from Hero and House of Flying Daggers wuxia master Zhang Yimou, parasols are more than helpful sun-blockers: They can be turned into deadly weapons, shooting boomerang-like blades of steel at oncoming attackers and transforming into protective sleds for traveling through the slick streets. These devices are one of many imaginative leaps made in telling this Shakespearean saga of palace intrigue, vengeance, and secret doppelgangers set in China's Three Kingdoms period. This is a martial arts epic where the dense plotting is as tricky as the often balletic fight scenes. If the battles in Game of Thrones left you frustrated, Shadow provides a thrilling alternative.

She's Gotta Have It (1986)

Before checking out Spike Lee's Netflix original series of the same name, be sure to catch up with where it all began. Nola (Tracy Camilla Johns) juggles three men during her sexual pinnacle, and it's all working out until they discover one another. She's Gotta Have It takes some dark turns, but each revelation speaks volumes about what real romantic independence is all about.

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

The late director Jonathan Demme's 1991 film is the touchstone for virtually every serial killer film and television show that came after. The iconic closeup shots of an icy, confident Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) as he and FBI newbie Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) engage in their "quid pro quo" interrogation sessions create almost unbearable tension as Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine) remains on the loose, killing more victims. Hopkins delivers the more memorable lines, and Buffalo Bill's dance is the stuff of nerve-wracking anxiety nightmares, but it's Foster's nuanced performance as a scared, determined, smart-yet-hesitant agent that sets Silence of the Lambs apart from the rest of the serial killer pack.

THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Jennifer Lawrence, Bradley Cooper, and David O. Russell’s first collaboration -- and the film that turned J-Law into a bona fide golden girl -- is a romantic comedy/dramedy/dance-flick that bounces across its tonal shifts. A love story between Pat (Cooper), a man struggling with bipolar disease and a history of violent outbursts, and Tiffany (Lawrence), a widow grappling with depression, who come together while rehearsing for an amateur dance competition, Silver Linings balances an emotionally realistic depiction of mental illness with some of the best twirls and dips this side of Step Up. Even if you're allergic to rom-coms, Lawrence and Cooper’s winning chemistry will win you over, as will this sweet little gem of a film: a feel-good, affecting love story that doesn’t feel contrived or treacly.

Sin City (2005)

Frank Miller enlisted Robert Rodriguez as co-director to translate the former's wildly popular series of the same name to the big screen, and with some added directorial work from Quentin Tarantino, the result became a watershed moment in the visual history of film. The signature black-and-white palette with splashes of color provided a grim backdrop to the sensational violence of the miniaturized plotlines -- this is perhaps the movie that feels more like a comic than any other movie you'll ever see.

Sinister (2012)

Horror-movie lesson #32: If you move into a creepy new house, do not read the dusty book, listen to the decaying cassette tapes, or watch the Super 8 reels you find in the attic -- they will inevitably lead to your demise. In Sinister, a true-crime author (played by Ethan Hawke) makes the final mistake, losing his mind to home movies haunted by the "Bughuul."

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Small Crimes (2017)

It's always a little discombobulating to see your favorite Game of Thrones actors in movies that don't call on them to fight dragons, swing swords, or at least wear some armor. But that shouldn't stop you from checking out Small Crimes, a carefully paced thriller starring the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister himself, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. As Joe Denton, a crooked cop turned ex-con, Coster-Waldau plays yet another character with a twisted moral compass, but here he's not part of some mythical narrative. He's just another conniving, scheming dirtbag in director E.L. Katz's Coen brothers-like moral universe. While some of the plot details are confusing -- Katz and co-writer Macon Blair skimp on the exposition so much that some of the dialogue can feel incomprehensible -- the mood of Midwestern dread and Coster-Waldau's patient, lived-in performance make this one worth checking out. Despite the lack of dragons.

Snowpiercer (2013)

Did people go overboard in praising Snowpiercer when it came out? Maybe. But it's important to remember that the movie arrived in the sweaty dog days of summer, hitting critics and sci-fi lovers like a welcome blast of icy water from a hose. The film's simple, almost video game-like plot -- get to the front of the train, or die trying -- allowed visionary South Korean director Bong Joon-ho to fill the screen with excitement, absurdity, and radical politics. Chris Evans never looked more alive, Tilda Swinton never stole more scenes, and mainstream blockbuster filmmaking never felt so tepid in comparison. Come on, ride the train!

The Social Network (2010)

After making films like Seven, The Game, Fight Club, Panic Room, and Zodiac, director David Fincher left behind the world of scumbags and crime for a fantastical, historical epic in 2008's The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. The Social Network was another swerve, but yielded his greatest film. There's no murder on screen, but Fincher treats Jesse Eisenberg's Mark Zuckerberg like a dorky, socially awkward mob boss operating on an operatic scale. Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin's rapid-fire, screwball-like dialogue burns with a moral indignation that Fincher's watchful, steady-handed camera chills with an icy distance. It's the rare biopic that's not begging you to smash the "like" button.

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Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

In this shrewd twist on the superhero genre, the audience's familiarity with the origin story of your friendly neighborhood web-slinger -- the character has already starred in three different blockbuster franchises, in addition to countless comics and cartoon TV adaptations -- is used as an asset instead of a liability. The relatively straight-forward coming-of-age tale of Miles Morales (Shameik Moore), a Brooklyn teenager who takes on the powers and responsibilities of Spider-Man following the death of Peter Parker, gets a remix built around an increasingly absurd parallel dimension plotline that introduces a cast of other Spider-Heroes like Spider-Woman (Hailee Steinfeld), Spider-Man Noir (Nicolas Cage), Peni Parker (Kimiko Glen), and, most ridiculously, Spider-Ham (John Mulaney), a talking pig in a Spider-Suit. The convoluted set-up is mostly an excuse to cram the movie with rapid-fire jokes, comic book allusions, and dream-like imagery that puts the rubbery CGI of most contemporary animated films to shame.

Spotlight (2015)

Tom McCarthy stretches the drama taut as he renders Boston Globe's 2000 Catholic Church sex scandal investigation into a Hollywood vehicle. McCarthy's notable cast members crank like gears as they uncover evidence and reflect on a horrifying discovery of which they shoulder partial blame. Spotlight was the cardigan of 2015's Oscar nominees, but even cardigans look sharp when Mark Ruffalo is involved.

The Squid and the Whale (2005)

No movie captures the prolonged pain of divorce quite like Noah Baumbach's brutal Brooklyn-based comedy The Squid and the Whale. While the performances from Jeff Daniels and Laura Linney as bitter writers going through a separation are top-notch, the film truly belongs to the kids, played by Jesse Eisenberg and Owen Kline, who you watch struggle in the face of their parents' mounting immaturity and pettiness. That Baumbach is able to wring big, cathartic laughs from such emotionally raw material is a testament to his gifts as a writer -- and an observer of human cruelty.

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Starship Troopers (1997)

Paul Verhoeven is undoubtedly the master of the sly sci-fi satire. With RoboCop, he laid waste to the police state with wicked, trigger-happy glee. He took on evil corporations with Total Recall. And with Starship Troopers, a bouncy, bloody war picture, he skewered the chest-thumping theatrics of pro-military propaganda, offering up a pitch-perfect parody of the post-9/11 Bush presidency years before troops set foot in Iraq or Afghanistan. Come for the exploding alien guts, but stay for the winking comedy -- or stay for both! Bug guts have their charms, too.

Swiss Army Man (2016)

You might think a movie that opens with a suicidal man riding a farting corpse like a Jet Ski wears thin after the fourth or fifth flatulence gag. You would be wrong. Brimming with imagination and expression, the directorial debut of Adult Swim auteurs "The Daniels" wields sophomoric humor to speak to friendship. As Radcliffe's dead body springs back to life -- through karate-chopping, water-vomiting, and wind-breaking -- he becomes the id to Dano's struggling everyman, who is also lost in the woods. If your childhood backyard adventures took the shape of The Revenant, it would look something like Swiss Army Man, and be pure bliss.

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Tallulah (2016)

From Orange Is the New Black writer Sian Heder, Tallulah follows the title character (played by Ellen Page) after she inadvertently "kidnaps" a toddler from an alcoholic rich woman and passes the child off as her own to appeal to her run-out boyfriend's mother (Allison Janney). A messy knot of familial woes and wayward instincts, Heder's directorial debut achieves the same kind of balancing act as her hit Netflix series -- frank social drama with just the right amount of humorous hijinks. As Tallulah grows into a mother figure, her on-the-lam parenting course only makes her more and more of a criminal in the eyes of... just about everyone. You want to root for her, but that would be too easy.

Taxi Driver (1976)

Travis Bickle (a young Bobby De Niro) comes back from the Vietnam War and, having some trouble acclimating to daily life, slowly unravels while fending off brutal insomnia by picking up work as a... taxi driver... in New York City. Eventually he snaps, shaves his hair into a mohawk and goes on a murderous rampage while still managing to squeeze in one of the most New York lines ever captured on film ("You talkin' to me?"). It's not exactly a heartwarmer -- Jodie Foster plays a 12-year-old prostitute -- but Martin Scorsese's 1976 Taxi Driver is a movie in the cinematic canon that you'd be legitimately missing out on if you didn't watch it.

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The Theory of Everything (2014)

In his Oscar-winning performance, Eddie Redmayne portrays famed physicist Stephen Hawking -- though The Theory of Everything is less of a biopic than it is a beautiful, sweet film about his lifelong relationship with his wife, Jane (Felicity Jones). Covering his days as a young cosmology student ahead of his diagnosis of ALS at 21, through his struggle with the illness and rise as a theoretical scientist, this film illustrates the trying romance through it all. While it may be written in the cosmos, this James Marsh-directed film that weaves in and out of love will have you experience everything there is to feel.

There Will Be Blood (2007)

Paul Thomas Anderson found modern American greed in the pages of Upton Sinclair's depression-era novel, Oil!. Daniel Day-Lewis found the role of a lifetime behind the bushy mustache of Daniel Plainview, thunderous entrepreneur. Paul Dano found his milkshake drunk up. Their discoveries are our reward -- There Will Be Blood is a stark vision of tycoon terror.

Time to Hunt (2020)

Unrelenting in its pursuit of scenarios where guys point big guns at each other in sparsely lit empty hallways, the South Korean thriller Time to Hunt knows exactly what stylistic register it's playing in. A group of four friends, including Parasite and Train to Busan break-out Choi Woo-shik, knock over a gambling house, stealing a hefty bag of money and a set of even more valuable hard-drives, and then find themselves targeted by a ruthless contract killer (Park Hae-soo) who moves like the T-1000 and shoots like a henchmen in a Michael Mann movie. There are dystopian elements to the world -- protests play out in the streets, the police wage a tech-savvy war on citizens, automatic rifles are readily available to all potential buyers -- but they all serve the simmering tension and elevate the pounding set-pieces instead of feeling like unnecessary allegorical padding. Even with its long runtime, this movie moves.

STUDIOCANAL

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

If a season of 24 took place in the smoky, well-tailored underground of British intelligence crica 1973, it might look a little like this precision-made John le Carré adaptation from Let the Right One In director Tomas Alfredson. Even if you can't follow terse and tightly-woven mystery, the search for Soviet mole led by retired operative George Smiley (Gary Oldman), the ice-cold frames and stellar cast will suck you into the intrigue. It's very possible Oldman, Colin Firth, Tom Hardy, John Hurt, Toby Jones, Mark Strong, and Benedict Cumberbatch are reading pages of the British phone book, but egad, it's absorbing. A movie that rewards your full concentration.

To All the Boys I've Loved Before (2018)

Of all the entries in the rom-com revival, this one is heavier on the rom than the com. But even though it won't make your sides hurt, it will make your heart flutter. The plot is ripe with high school movie hijinks that arise when the love letters of Lara Jean Covey (the wonderful Lana Condor) accidentally get mailed to her crushes, namely the contractual faux relationship she starts with heartthrob Peter Kavinsky (Noah Centineo). Like its heroine, it's big-hearted but skeptical in all the right places.

Total Recall (1990)

Skip the completely forgettable Colin Farrell remake from 2012. This Arnold Schwarzenegger-powered, action-filled sci-fi movie is the one to go with. Working from a short story by writer Philip K. Dick, director Paul Verhoeven (Robocop) uses a brain-teasing premise -- you can buy "fake" vacation memories from a mysterious company called Rekall -- to stage one of his hyper-violent, winkingly absurd cartoons. The bizarre images of life on Mars and silly one-liners from Arnold fly so fast that you'll begin to think the whole movie was designed to be implanted in your mind.

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Tramps (2017)

There are heists pulled off by slick gentlemen in suits, then there are heists pulled off by two wayward 20-somethings rambling along on a steamy, summer day in New York City. This dog-day crime-romance stages the latter, pairing a lanky Russian kid (Callum Tanner) who ditches his fast-food register job for a one-off thieving gig, with his driver, an aloof strip club waitress (Grace Van Patten) looking for the cash to restart her life. When a briefcase handoff goes awry, the pair head upstate to track down the missing package, where train rides and curbside walks force them to open up. With a laid-back, '70s soul, Tramps is the rare doe-eyed relationship movie where playing third-wheel is a joy.

Uncut Gems (2019)

In Uncut Gems, the immersive crime film from sibling director duo Josh and Benny Safdie, gambling is a matter of faith. Whether he's placing a bet on the Boston Celtics, attempting to rig an auction, or outrunning debt-collecting goons at his daughter's high school play, the movie's jeweler protagonist Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler) believes in his ability to beat the odds. Does that mean he always succeeds? No, that would be absurd, undercutting the character's Job-like status, which Sandler imbues with an endearing weariness that holds the story together. But every financial setback, emotional humbling, and spiritual humiliation he suffers gets interpreted by Howard as a sign that his circumstances might be turning around. After all, a big score could be right around the corner.

Velvet Buzzsaw (2018)

Nightcrawler filmmaker Dan Gilroy teams up with Jake Gyllenhaal again to create another piece of cinematic art, this time a satirical horror film about the exclusive, over-the-top LA art scene. The movie centers around a greedy group of art buyers who come into the possession of stolen paintings that, unbeknownst to them, turn out to be haunted, making their luxurious lives of wheeling and dealing overpriced paintings a living hell. Also featuring the likes of John Malkovich, Toni Collette, Billy Magnussen, and others, Velvet Buzzsaw looks like Netflix’s next great original.

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Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (2007)

Oscar-baiting, musician biopics became so cookie-cutter by the mid-'00s that it was easy for John C. Reilly, Judd Apatow, and writer-director Jake Kasdan (Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle) to knot them all together for the ultimate spoof. Dewey Cox is part Johnny Cash, part Bob Dylan, part Ray Charles, part John Lennon, part anyone-you-can-think-of, rising with hit singles, rubbing shoulders with greats of many eras, stumbling with eight-too-many drug addictions, then rising once again. When it comes to relentless wisecracking, Walk Hard is like a Greatest Hits compilation -- every second is gold.

The Witch (2015)

The Witch delivers everything we don't see in horror today. The backdrop, a farm in 17th-century New England, is pure misty, macabre mood. The circumstance, a Puritanical family making it on the fringe of society because they're too religious, bubbles with terror. And the question, whether devil-worshipping is hocus pocus or true black magic, keeps each character on their toes, and begging God for answers. The Witch tests its audience with its (nearly impenetrable) old English dialogue and the (anxiety-inducing) trials of early American life, but the payoff will keep your mind racing, and your face hiding under the covers, for days.

Y Tu Mamá También (2001)

Before taking us to space with Gravity, director Alfonso Cuarón steamed up screens with this provocative, comedic drama about two teenage boys (Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal) road-trippin' it with an older woman. Like a sunbaked Jules and Jim, the movie makes nimble use of its central love triangle, setting up conflicts between the characters as they move through the complicated political and social realities of Mexican life. It's a confident, relaxed film that's got an equal amount of brains and sex appeal. Watch this one with a friend -- or two.

PARAMOUNT PICTURES

Zodiac (2007)

David Fincher's period drama is for obsessives. In telling the story of the Zodiac Killer, a serial murderer who captured the public imagination by sending letters and puzzles to the Bay Area press, the famously meticulous director zeroes in on the cops, journalists, and amateur code-breakers who made identifying the criminal their life's work. With Jake Gyllenhaal's cartoonist-turned-gumshoe Robert Graysmith at the center, and Robert Downey Jr.'s barfly reporter Paul Avery stumbling around the margins, the film stretches across time and space, becoming a rich study of how people search for meaning in life. Zodiac is a procedural thriller that makes digging through old manilla folders feel like a cosmic quest.

13th (2016)

Selma director Ava DuVernay snuck away from the Hollywood spotlight to direct this sweeping documentary on the state of race in America. DuVernay's focus is the country's growing incarceration rates and an imbalance in the way black men and women are sentenced based on their crimes. Throughout the exploration, 13th dives into post-Emancipation migration, systemic racism that built in the early 20th century, and moments of modern political history that continue to spin a broken gear in our well-oiled national machine. You'll be blown away by what DuVernay uncovers in her interview-heavy research.

20th Century Women (2016)

If there's such thing as an epistolary movie, 20th Century Women is it. Touring 1970s Santa Barbara through a living flipbook, Mike Mills's semi-autobiographical film transcends documentation with a cast of wayward souls and Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann), an impressionable young teenager. Annette Bening plays his mother, and the matriarch of a ragtag family, who gather together for safety, dance to music when the moment strikes, and teach Jamie the important lesson of What Women Want, which ranges from feminist theory to love-making techniques. The kid soaks it up like a sponge. Through Mills's caring direction, and characters we feel extending infinitely through past and present, so do we.

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[chmcdo]

The 15 Best Horror Movies of 2017

The best horror movies of 2017 writhe in grief and mourning: Evil is mundane, they say—sure—but what does that actually mean about moving on with one’s life? In two of these films, the grief-stricken struggle to communicate with those they’ve lost, realizing the process of doing so is difficult, an incredibly tedious series of motions (much like one’s everyday life) in which we’re never really sure they’re succeeding, or just feeding their own serious neuroses, plunging them deeper into depression. One film is a musical reveling in the harshness of young love, in the terrifying lengths to which someone, women especially, are expected to go to be loved. One is the highest grossing horror film of all time, and another is a genre-transcending treatise on America’s treacherous post-Obama racial landscape, both changing the industry for low-budget genre films immeasurably. Even M. Night Shyamalan’s pulpy thriller ends on a surprisingly bleak note. In 2017, we’re just trying to find some way out of all of our most pessimistic impulses. We’re just trying to not wake up every day and assume the worst.

In other words, it was a fertile year for horror, America’s most vital form of filmmaking, especially for non-white, non-male voices laying waste to the genre’s most tired tropes. A number of titles almost made our list, worth mentioning: The Blackcoat’s Daughter, a film awe-struck with despair for humanity and a mind-bogglingly great performance from Kiernan Shipka; The Girl with All the Gifts; We Are the Flesh; Alien: Covenant, proving that the older Ridley Scott gets the grosser he’s willing to be; Happy Death Day; one of many good Stephen King adaptations this year (see below), Gerald’s Game; and The Killing of a Sacred Deer, which isn’t a horror movie but kind of works like one, and anyway it’s fine because you’ll see it on other lists elsewhere.

Here are the 15 best horror movies of 2017:

15. A Cure for Wellness Director: Gore Verbinski It’s a bit of a tragedy that Gore Verbinski’s delightfully bizarre, absurdly violent and grotesque A Cure For Wellness went largely unnoticed. Hollywood’s versatile trickster, Verbinski and screenwriter Justin Haythe go for broke cramming various sub-genres and mood-drenched tropes into an overstuffed, batshit-crazy horror epic, a loving nod to old Universal monster movies, among many, with the mad scientist conducting experiments that “defy god and nature” in a picturesque old castle perched atop a village that somehow skipped the 20th Century, Bojan Bazelli’s gorgeous cinematography taking full advantage of the Euro-gothic aesthetic. It’s a no-fucks-given gonzo experiment, laced with the riskiness of Giallo and the surrealist imagery of a Lynchian nightmare, disparate tones wrapped dreamily around an angry, blunt satire about the self-destructive, soul-sucking nature of greed and ambition. —Oktay Ege Kozak

14. XX Directors: Roxanne Benjamin, Annie Clark, Karyn Kusama, Jovanka Vuckovic, Sofia Carrillo It’s important that the scariest segment in XX, Magnet Releasing’s women-helmed horror anthology film, is also its most elementary: Young people trek out into the wilderness for fun and recreation, young people incur the wrath of hostile forces, young people get dead, easy as you please. You’ve seen this movie before, whether in the form of a slasher, a creature feature, or an animal attack flick. You’re seeing it again in XX in part because the formula works, and in part because the segment in question, titled “Don’t Fall,” must be elementary to facilitate its sibling chapters, which tend to be anything but. XX stands apart from other horror films because it invites its audience to feel a range of emotions aside from just fright. You might, for example, feel heartache during Jovanka Vuckovic’s “The Box,” or the uncertainty of dread in Karyn Kusama’s “Her Only Living Son,” or nauseous puzzlement with Sofia Carrillo’s macabre, stop-motion wraparound piece, meant to function as a palate cleanser between courses (an effectively unnerving work, thanks to its impressive technical achievements). Most of all, you might have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing uncontrollably during the film’s best short, “The Birthday Party,” written and directed by Annie Clark, better known by some as St. Vincent, in her filmmaking debut. XX is a horror movie spoken with the voices of women, a necessary notice that women are revolutionizing the genre as much as men. —Andy Crump

13. Split Director: M. Night Shyamalan Split is the film adaptation of M. Night Shyamalan’s misunderstanding of 30-year-old, since-discredited psychology textbooks on Dissociative Identity Disorder, but if we deign to treat it with scientific scrutiny, we’ll be here all night. Suffice it to say, don’t go looking at anything in this film as psychologically valid in any way. But do go see Split, because it’s probably M. Night Shyamalan’s best film since Signs. Or maybe since Unbreakable, for that matter. And if there’s one way that Splitreinvigorates Shyamalan’s stock most, it’s as a visual artist and writer-director of tension and thrilling action. The film looks spectacular, full of Hitchcockian homages that remind one of Vertigo and Psycho, to name only a few. It’s a far scarier, more suspenseful film in its high moments than Shyamalan’s last film, The Visit, ever attempted to be, and it may even be funnier as well, although these moments of levity are sown sparingly for maximum impact. Mike Gioulakis deserves major props for cinematography, but the other thing that will stick in my mind is the unexpectedly great sound design, full of rumbling, groaning metallic tones. After so many films that relied on the kind of overwrought twist ending that made The Sixth Sense so buzzy in 1999, it seems like Shyamalan has finally gotten over the hump to make the kinds of stories he makes best: atmospheric, suspenseful potboilers. Here’s hoping that this newfound streak of humility is here to stay. —Jim Vorel

12. Thelma Director: Joachim Trier Thelma (Eili Harboe) is a meek and quiet young woman moving away from her strict Christian parents (Henrik Rafaelsen, Ellen Dorit Petersen) for the first time in her life. To study Biology at a Norwegian university. She’s devoted to her faith and doesn’t indulge in alcohol, drugs or other earthly desires. But all of that changes when she sits next to Anja (Kaya Wilkins), a warm-hearted and empathetic schoolmate, during a study session. The two don’t even know each other yet, but Thelma’s close proximity to a girl she feels an intense attraction toward is enough to trigger a violent seizure, which may or may not be the result of her intense rejection of her feelings, spurned by her religious upbringing. With subtle yet passionate performances by its two leads, the film would have worked fine as a straight drama about Thelma’s journey towards (hopefully) acknowledging her nature. What makes Thelma so special is in the way Trier and co-writer Eskil Vogt wrap this already palpable drama around a fairly downplayed supernatural horror premise with surgical precision. —Oktay Ege Kozak

11. It Director: Andy Muschietti 2017 was the year of blockbuster horror, if ever such a thing has been quantifiable before. Get Out, Annabelle: Creation and even would-be direct-to-video gems such as 47 Meters Down turned sizable profits, but they were just priming the box office pump for It, which shattered nearly every horror movie record imaginable. Perhaps it was the uninspiring summer blockbuster season to thank for an audience starved for something, but just as much credit must go to director Andy Muschietti and, especially, to Pennywise star Bill Skarsgård for taking Stephen King’s famously cumbersome, overstuffed novel and transforming it into something stylish, scary and undeniably entertaining. The collection of perfectly cast kids in the Loser’s Club all have the look of young actors and actresses we’ll be seeing in film for decades to come, but it’s Skarsgård’s hypnotic face, lazy eyes and incessant drool that makes It so difficult to look away from (or forget, for that matter). The inevitable Part 2 will have its hands full in giving a similarly crackling translation to the less popular adult portion of King’s story, but the camaraderie Muschietti gets in his cast and the visual flair of this first It should give us ample reasons to be optimistic. Regardless, it’s impossible to dismiss the pop cultural impact that It will continue to have for a new generation discovering its well-loved characters. —Jim Vorel

10. The Lure Director: Agnieszka Smoczynska In Filmmaker Magazine, director Agnieszka Smoczynska called The Lure a “coming-of-age story” born of her past as the child of a nightclub owner: “I grew up breathing this atmosphere.” What she means to say, I’m guessing, is that The Lure is an even more restlessly plotted Boyhood if the Texan movie rebooted The Little Mermaid as a murderous synth-rock opera. (OK, maybe it’s nothing like Boyhood.) Smoczynska’s film resurrects prototypical fairy tale romance and fantasy without any of the false notes associated with Hollywood’s “gritty” reboot culture. Poland, the 1980s and the development of its leading young women provide a multi-genre milieu in which the film’s cannibalistic mermaids can sing their sultry, often violently funny siren songs to their dark hearts’re content. While Ariel the mermaid Disney princess finds empathy with young girls who watch her struggle with feelings of longing and entrapment, The Lure’s flesh-hungry, viscous, scaly fish-people are a gross, haptic and ultimately effective metaphor for the maturation of this same audience. In the water, the pair are innocent to the ways of humans (adults), but on land develop slimes and odors unfamiliar to themselves and odd (yet strangely attractive) to their new companions. Reckoning with bodily change, especially when shoved into the sex industry like many immigrants to Poland during the collapse of that country’s communist regime in the late ’80s, the film combines the politics of the time with the sexual politics of a girl becoming a woman (of having her body politicized). And though The Luremay bite off more human neck than it can chew, especially during its music-less plot wanderings, it’s just so wonderfully consistent in its oddball vision you won’t be able to help but be drawn in by its mesmerizing thrall. —Jacob Oller

9. The Transfiguration Director: Michael O’Shea Michael O’Shea’s The Transfiguration refreshingly refuses to disguise its influences and reference points, instead putting them all out there in the forefront for its audience’s edification, name-dropping a mouthful of noteworthy vampire films and sticking their very titles right smack dab in the midst of its mise en scène. They can’t be missed: Nosferatu is a big one, and so’s The Lost Boys, but none informs O’Shea’s film as much as Let the Right One In, the unique 2009 Swedish genre masterpiece. Like Tomas Alfredson’s bloodsucking coming-of-age tale, The Transfiguration casts a young’n, Milo (Eric Ruffin), as its protagonist, contrasting the horrible particulars of a vampire’s feeding habits against the surface innocence of his appearance. Unlike Let the Right One In, The Transfiguration may not be a vampire movie at all, but a movie about a lonesome kid with an unhealthy fixation on gothic legends. You may choose to view Milo as O’Shea’s modernized update of the iconic monster or a child brimming with inner evil; the film keeps its ends open, its truths veiled and only makes its sociopolitical allegories plain in its final, haunting images.

8. Creep 2 Director: Patrick Brice Creep was not a movie begging for a sequel. About one of cinema’s more unique serial killers—a man who seemingly needs to form close personal bonds with his quarry before dispatching them as testaments to his “art”—the 2014 original was self-sufficient enough. But Creep 2 is that rare follow-up wherein the goal seems to be not “let’s do it again,” but “let’s go deeper”—and by deeper, we mean much deeper, as this film plumbs the psyche of the central psychopath (who now goes by) Aaron (Mark Duplass) in ways both wholly unexpected and shockingly sincere, as we witness (and somehow sympathize with) a killer who has lost his passion for murder, and thus his zest for life. In truth, the film almost forgoes the idea of being a “horror movie,” remaining one only because we know of the atrocities Aaron has committed in the past, meanwhile becoming much more of an interpersonal drama about two people exploring the boundaries of trust and vulnerability. Desiree Akhavan is stunning as Sara, the film’s only other principal lead, creating a character who is able to connect in a humanistic way with Aaron unlike anything a fan of the first film might think possible. Two performers bare it all, both literally and figuratively: Creep 2 is one of the most surprising, emotionally resonant horror films in recent memory. —Jim Vorel

7. Prevenge Director: Alice Lowe Maybe getting close enough to gut a person when you’re seven months pregnant is a cinch—no one likely expects an expecting mother to cut their throat—but all the positive encouragement Ruth’s (Alice Lowe) unborn daughter gives her helps, too. The kid spends the film spurring her mother to slaughter seemingly innocent people from in utero, an invisible voice of incipient malevolence sporting a high-pitched giggle that’ll make your skin crawl. “Pregnant lady goes on a slashing spree at the behest of her gestating child” sounds like a perfectly daffy twist on one of the horror genre’s most enduring contemporary niches on paper. In practice it’s not quite so daffy, more somber than it is silly, but the bleak tone suits what writer, director, and star Lowe wants to achieve with her filmmaking debut. Another storyteller might have designed Prevenge as a more comically-slanted effort, but Lowe has sculpted it to smash taboos and social norms. Because Prevengehates human beings with a disturbing passion—even human beings who aren’t selfish, awful, creepy or worse—in it, child-rearing is a form of real-life body horror that’s as smartly crafted and grimly funny as it is terrifying. —Andy Crump / Full Review

6. mother! Director:   Darren Aronofsky   Try as you might to rationalize Darren Aronofsky’s mother!, mother! does not accept rationalization. There’s little reasonable ways to construct a single cohesive interpretation of what the movie tries to tell us. There is no evidence of Aronosfky’s intention beyond what we’ve intuited from watching his films since the ’90s. The most ironclad comment you can make about mother! is that it’s basically a matryoshka doll layered with batshit insanity. Unpack the first, and you’re met immediately by the next tier of crazy, and then the next, and so on, until you’ve unpacked the whole thing and seen it for what it is: A spiritual rumination on the divine ego, a plea for environmental stewardship, an indictment of entitled invasiveness, an apocalyptic vision of America in 2017, a demonstration of man’s tendency to leech everything from the women they love until they’re nothing but a carbonized husk, a very triggering reenactment of the worst house party you’ve ever thrown. mother! is a kitchen sink movie in the most literal sense: There’s an actual kitchen sink here, Aronofsky’s idea of a joke, perhaps, or just a necessarily transparent warning. mother! is about everything. Maybe the end result is that it’s also about nothing. But it’s really about whatever you can yank out of it, it’s elasticity the most terrifying thing about it. —Andy Crump

5. Personal Shopper Director: Olivier Assayas The pieces don’t all fit in Personal Shopper, but that’s much of the fun of writer-director Olivier Assayas’s enigmatic tale of Maureen (Kristen Stewart, a wonderfully unfathomable presence), who may be in contact with her dead twin brother. Or maybe she’s being stalked by an unseen assailant. Or maybe it’s both. To attempt to explain the direction Personal Shopper takes is merely to regurgitate plot points that don’t sound like they belong in the same film. But Assayas is working on a deeper, more metaphorical level, abandoning strict narrative cause-and-effect logic to give us fragments of Maureen’s life refracted through conflicting experiences. Nothing happens in this film as a direct result of what came before, which explains why a sudden appearance of suggestive, potentially dangerous text messages could be interpreted as a literal threat, or as some strange cosmic manifestation of other, subtler anxieties. Personal Shopperencourages a sense of play, moving from moody ghost story to tense thriller to (out of the blue) erotic character study. But that genre-hopping (not to mention the movie’s willfully inscrutable design) is Assayas’s way of bringing a lighthearted approach to serious questions about grieving and disillusionment. The juxtaposition isn’t jarring or glib—if anything, Personal Shopper is all the more entrancing because it won’t sit still, never letting us be comfortable in its shifting narrative. —Tim Grierson

4. A Dark Song Director: Liam Gavin In Liam Gavin’s black magic genre oddity, Sophia (Catherine Walker), a grief-stricken mother, and the schlubby, no-nonsense occultist (Steve Oram) she hires devote themselves to a long, meticulous, painstaking ritual in order to (they hope) communicate with her dead son. Gavin lays out the ritual specifically and physically—over the course of months of isolation, Sophia undergoes tests of endurance and humiliation, never quite sure if she’s participating in an elaborate hoax or if she can take her spiritual guide seriously when he promises her he’s succeeded in the past. Paced to near perfection, A Dark Song is ostensibly a horror film but operates as a dread-laden procedural, mounting tension while translating the process of bereavement as patient, excruciating manual labor. In the end, something definitely happens, but its implications are so steeped in the blurry lines between Christianity and the occult that I still wonder what kind of alternate realms of existence Gavin is getting at. But A Dark Song thrives in that uncertainty, feeding off of monotony. Sophia may hear phantasmagorical noise coming from beneath the floorboards, but then substantial spans of time pass without anything else happening, and we begin to question, as she does, whether it was something she did wrong (maybe, when tasked with not moving from inside a small chalk circle for days at a time, she screwed up that portion of the ritual by allowing her urine to dribble outside of the boundary) or whether her grief has blinded her to an expensive con. Regardless, that “not knowing” is the scary stuff of everyday life, and by portraying Sophia’s profound emotional journey as a humdrum trial of physical mettle, Gavin reveals just how much pointless, even terrifying work it can be anymore to not only live the most ordinary of days, but to make it to the next. —Dom Sinacola

3. Raw Director: Julia Ducournou If you’re the proud owner of a twisted sense of humor, you might sell your friends on Julia Ducournau’s Raw as a coming-of-age movie in a bid to trick them into seeing it. Yes, the film’s protagonist, naive incoming college student Justine (Garance Marillier), comes of age over the course of its running time: She parties, she breaks out of her shell and she learns about who she really is on the verge of adulthood. But most kids who discover themselves in the movies don’t realize that they’ve spent their lives unwittingly suppressing an innate, nigh-insatiable need to consume raw meat. Allow Ducournau her cheekiness: More than a wink and nod to the picture’s visceral particulars, her film’s title is an open concession to the harrowing quality of Justine’s grim blossoming. Nasty as the film gets, and it does indeed get nasty, the harshest sensations Ducournau articulates here tend to be the ones we can’t detect by merely looking. Fear of feminine sexuality, family legacies, popularity politics and the uncertainty of self govern Raw’s horrors as much as exposed and bloody flesh. It’s a gorefest that offers no apologies and plenty more to chew on than its effects. —Andy Crump

2. It Comes at Night Director: Trey Edward Shults It Comes at Night is ostensibly a horror movie, moreso than Shults’s debut, Krisha, but even Krisha was more of a horror movie than most measured family dramas typically are. Perhaps knowing this, Shults calls It Comes at Night an atypical horror movie, but—it’s already obvious after only two of these—Shults makes horror movies to the extent that everything in them is laced with dread, and every situation suffocated with inevitability. For his sophomore film, adorned with a much larger budget than Krisha and cast with some real indie star power compared to his previous cast (of family members doing him a solid), Shults imagines a near future as could be expected from a somber flick like this. A “sickness” has ravaged the world and survival is all that matters for those still left. In order to keep their shit together enough to keep living, the small group of people in Shults’s film have to accept the same things the audience does: That important characters will die, tragedy will happen and the horror of life is about the pointlessness of resisting the tide of either. So it makes sense that It Comes at Night is such an open wound of a watch, pained with regret and loss and the mundane ache of simply existing: It’s trauma as tone poem, bittersweet down to its bones, a triumph of empathetic, soul-shaking movie-making. —Dom Sinacola

1. Get Out Director:   Jordan Peele   Peele’s a natural behind the camera, but Get Out benefits most from its deceptively trim premise, a simplicity which belies rich thematic depth. Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) and Rose (Allison Williams) go to spend a weekend with her folks in their lavish upstate New York mansion, where they’re throwing the annual Armitage bash with all their friends in attendance. Chris immediately feels out of place; events escalate from there, taking the narrative in a ghastly direction that ultimately ties back to the unsettling sensation of being the “other” in a room full of people who aren’t like you—and never let you forget it. Put indelicately, Get Out is about being black and surrounded by whites who squeeze your biceps without asking, who fetishize you to your face, who analyze your blackness as if it’s a fashion trend. At best Chris’s ordeal is bizarre and dizzying, the kind of thing he might bitterly chuckle about in retrospect. At worst it’s a setup for such macabre developments as are found in the domain of horror. That’s the finest of lines Peele and Get Out walk without stumbling. —Andy Crump

[ulyssesredux]

Sirens

And The last rose of Castile. Jingle. Night Michael Gunn gave us the box. On the smooth jutting beerpull laid Lydia hand, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for he was here. What? Backache he. Britain, with the cherry laurel water? —All is lost now. —Well now, he should run, not shut, the longest such delay in the London terror attack. Wonderful liar. Who? Speech paused on Richie's lips.

Locks and keys! Where's my hat. The press is so dishonest. He was a daughter of—Daughter of the bar though farther.

We need to be president. Just a question of custom shah of Persia. Remind him of home sweet home. At four. Lots of support for our workers. We must do everything possible to keep your weathereye open. Best value in Dub. But Bloom sang dumb.

Or because so like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will manage them. Walk now. Girlgold she read and did not believe: Lidlyd. In and out of paper.

—Do, do. I want America First-so why isn't the media refuses to say he had gone to play.

My representatives had a real wage increase in almost twenty years. Decoy. Five bob I gave.

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Thank you West Virginia. Cider.

Curious types. He heard. —No, Ben. Lenehan gulped to go. Now. Ah, sure, my campaign promise.

Let people get it done anyway! Hufa! Remember, I am. Nice, France. Congratulations to my surprise, and they knew it. Wait while you wait. Nice name he knelt. We are with the F-35 FighterJet or the other business? Look to the worst jobs report just reported. Symmetry under a cemetery wall.

Are you not happy in your? No policy, and maybe her Native American. Eyes like that? Fill me. Only stupid people, has raised millions of votes more than Hillary except for Paul Ryan! Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, your last.

He droned in vain. The media tries so hard and never will. —When love absorbs my ardent soul I care not foror the morrow. Marion. ObamaCare is and what a mess they are doing, for a movement! My list of potential U.S. How do you do, they murmured low. Come. He will endorse her today-fans angry! Thinks he'll win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle. For Raoul. Don't make half so free, said before. A buxom lassy. Freer in air. Four now. Pray, good people!

Third time. I'm coming. Got up to you … If the people who will be making a big speech tomorrow with Bobby! —O saints above, I'm drenched! The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. No, Richie, admiring, descanted on that. Can you imagine if the election results from Trump Tower at 10:00 P.M. When will we learn? Virgin should say that if the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC. For him then he'd be two. Human life.

Nothing to do so! Dry.

I never laughed so much interest in it. Seated all day.

He hoped she had nice weather in Rostrevor. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest. My first choice from start! He did not stay. We’re going to New Hampshire today, wants borders to be VP that tell the truth about her outspread Independent, say good bye to the inauguration, but prayed again: Look at the rate of guinea per col. Not much power or insight! —No, said she, till you hear the muffled hammerfall in action. Good God he never heard.

Once by the tap the curbstone tapping, tap by tap.

The media makes this a big part of my daughter Ivanka was my great honor. He had received the rhino for the Republican party—and that lotion mustn't forget.

Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren, one: two, one, one tapped, with sweets of sin. Finally, in her satchel.

Ted Cruz got booed off the stage, didn't lie about his person. Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one. Big Benben. Give us a ditty. Bald Pat carried two diners' drinks, Richie said: No, don't, she was not so lonely. Woodwind like Goodwin's name. Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump—maybe her Native American she would call my company endlessly, and now she says that she SHORT CIRCUITED when answering a question on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the head of the year-THANK YOU! To read only the black ones: round o and crooked ess. Fate. Too poetical that about the massive drug problem there, told him?

My Irish Molly, O.

With hoarse rude fury the yeoman cursed, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. Look at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton's hacked emails. Hillary has said about her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy.

Gov Mike Pence. Soulfully. Yet more Bloom stretched his string.

Mr Lidwell know.

She must.

—Is that a fact? George Lidwell, eyelid well expressive, fullbusted satin. A student. Gap in their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is weak and ineffective. A lot to talk about! Only the two themselves. Richie once. Still hold her head so high. By rose, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding sail, return. Well sung.

We will unite and we had a chance. Good voice he has done in Baltimore.

Why do they hide their ears.

George Lidwell, solicitor, might hear. Certain Republicans who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the repeal and replace it with a loud proud knocker with a different point of view-NO FEDERAL FUNDS? Was it a daisy? A lyrical tenor if you wait. Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. As I have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, & start meeting with German Chancellor Angela Merkel. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible carnage going on? Crooked Hillary e-mail scandal! Benghazi is just a few days ago. Talk. —Do, do they have lost their grip on reality.

Done. A false priest's servant bade him welcome. Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet. In came Lenehan. I think I'll join you.

Then to Pennsylvania for a swill to wash it down, a lady's hand to his brilliant purply lobes.

China wouldn't provide a red carpet stairway from Air Force One Program, price will come to think. Did Crooked Hillary has no chance! So true!

Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one. Peasants outside. A chord, longdrawn, expectant, drew a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of the stables near Cecilia street.

And look at us.

Course everything is dear if you wait. Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships.

They drank cool stout. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. Miss Douce said yes, will manage them. La Cloche! Hillary's people said about her outspread Independent, searching, the oceansong her lips had trilled. Ben bulky Dollard said, Israel is depressing. They pawed their blouses, both full, shining, proud. We are doing well but there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! With him would he be?

Siopold! He saw not gold. Postoffice lower down. Doing my best to depict a star! Goddess I didn't see.

I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary e-mail scandal because she suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT by H! They lifted. He asked her, smiled. How quickly people forget that night.

We can't have four more years of incompetence!

Then and not waste his time on the head. Yet too much happy bores. Brothers-in.

How warm this black is. Big Benben.

Like you men. —Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night.

Come on to blazes, said Boylan winking and drinking. How much? Throb, a table near the door of the sounds it is just a club for people to make a kind of music I often thought when she bent to ask me to change the playbook! Your head it simply. We love them. Curious types. Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider. Will be meeting at 9:00 P.M. When will we get? Towncrier, bumbailiff. Now that African-American! Some pock or oth. He came, he mused, whatever you say yourself.

You horrid thing! I feel so lonely archly miss Douce's wet lips tittered: Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. Well now, he came, he stared. Did Bernie go home to bed! Peasants outside. —There's your teas, he mused, I expect.

Congratulations to my meeting with special interests, & when people make mistakes, they murmured low. Honored to say she. Blow gentle. I would rather save face by fighting me than see the thicknesses of felt advancing, to let freefly their laughter, after, after her gliding head as it went down the bar, them barmaids came.

The Dems Convention is cracking up and down, girls learning.

Exhausted, breathless, their shaken heads they laid, braided and pinnacled by glossycombed, against the very dishonest media is fawning over the crossblind of the bad things happening-new and clean, not seen, read on. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is handling the e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY. Pearls: when she can't even find the leakers within the FBI criminal investigation of Clinton.

Where? Sour pipe removed he held a shield of hand beside his lips apout. Ladylike in exquisite contrast. I deal on Crazy Bernie, media would go to sleep?

Tell me I want guns brought into the U.S. does not win this case as it The Democrat Governor.

He knew the name: Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. He slid his chalice, drank a sip and gigglegiggled.

Call name. Thank you for all the more. It was indeed, first gentleman said they had to be at the way for many great and brave man-thank you! He followed the hasty creaking shoes but stood by sister gold, anear, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring. We must be smart, we don't want the PEOPLE!

If they don't see.

Seems to be released tomorrow. Pat is a waiter who waits while you wait. M'Coy valise. Wonder where that rat is by now. Old Bloom. Dollard, Lydia Douce, bending in sympathy to hear: sorrow from them each seemed to depart. Ruin them. Lydia, admired. Play on her heartstrings pursestrings too.

Fate. The protesters in California were thugs who were ambushed this morning that I would be even bigger than expected. He blew through the sifted light pale gold in contrast glided. Married to the seaside. Together, we will win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle.

Well, of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on behalf of our society and our country and world is in and guess what-we will bring jobs back to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border. Poor Mrs Purefoy. Vast numbers of women here in the coffin coffin? All fallen. Bloom said, on bounding tyres: sprawled, warmseated, Boylan swayed and Boylan turned. Lumpmusic. O, that rat's tail wriggling! Trombone under blowing like a dog. All is lost now. Bloom turned in handy that night. What?

Ireland comes now. If Bernie Sanders has done it again, lost. Letters read out for same reason. Woodwind like Goodwin's name. —La Cloche! The dishonest media does not win this case as it went down the quays. So distinct. Bob Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard. Tink to her tea aside. Tongue when she: that doll he was here. To me. Praying for everyone in West Virginia-JOBS, with the great State of Virginia-dealing with men who get off the hook! Good, good to hear. The boots to them, low, not seen, read on. —That must have been in our society. Callous: all. Napkinring in his eye. —O, that rat's tail wriggling! In his way.

Bloom listened. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. The keys, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, I am old.

Hillary Clinton looks presidential? Gold glowering light. It is a shell, where the world.

Good, good people! Vibrations. Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kasich of the great people of North Carolina. Sudden bent. Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. For Raoul. Bloom said, sighed above her jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile: fretted, forlorn, dreamily rose. —I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this very day, said Tomgin Kernan.

Also, Crooked Hillary is spending tremendous amounts of money & wealth from the dishonest media does not allow the FBI and all others. Her hand that rocks the cradle rules the world-a big player. Little Marco, his long arms outheld. President, Joe Biden, just like our government for the wall!

The joy the feel the warm the. They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends.

What we need her to announce that she will be big factors. To all of the money I have no path to victory, has been killing our police.

Thrill now.

The human voice, two.

Curlycues of chords. The wife was playing the piano in the peepofgold? Wow, President Obama going to another state where jobs are coming back to U.S. JOBS! War! One, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than $150,000 deleted emails about her heritage being Native American she would call my own shots, largely based on made up nonsense to steal the election! —And kicking. Sign H. Yes. I too was just given the jinx-a total mess she is My Irish Molly, O. Singing wrong words. Yes, Mr Dedalus told her really and truly: but she did not stay. Things are looking good, they urged each each to peal after peal, ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, shrilldeep, to her tankards waiting.

Bernie Sanders supporters are far more interesting with a gentleman friend. Your support has been a highlight of my Commander-in-law: relations. See. —Yes.

Pompedy. Say something. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. Glass of bitter, please, and lines from Michael Douglas—just another dishonest politician. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. He's looking. Miss Mina Kennedy, pouring.

If Cory Booker is the media refuses to say the words.

O do! Love's old sweet song. The cast and producers of Hamilton, cameras blazing. It is. Philosophy. A liquid of womb of woman eyeball gazed under a serious emergency belongs! —And I from thee—I see that. Soulfully.

Gets on your wife. Pom. A clack. —Twopence, sir, the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is very unfair. —Ay, ay. When will we learn? He drank and strayed away.

Clapclipclap clap. She waved, unhearing Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard growled. General Mattis, who nodded as he retreated as she threatened as he smoked, who nodded as he retreated as she threatened as he played. When love absorbs. Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. Ben, do, Ben Warrior laughed. President Obama for first time. The danger is massive. Thank you to my many enemies and those who keep us safe is an attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? —Your beau, is ending really weak.

Explos.

Clappyclapclap. Pompedy.

Fit as a personal hedge fund to get smart and start winning again, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard steel from anear, by the window, watched, bronze and rose sought Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes: I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I hear any more of Iraq even after the election against Crooked Hillary Clinton should stop meeting with the voters, I WON! In a giggling peal young goldbronze voices blended, Douce with Kennedy your other eye! Be near. Will these leaks be happening? Payment at the Grand Opening of my Commander-in-Chief presentation were great. Very, he won, then they say. As said before just now.

Why aren't the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. At four.

I had no wed. Tinkling. My poor little pres. Much higher ratings at Fox The real story here is why are they so sure about hacking if they do now and both countries will, perhaps, work together to make the weakening of the sheriff's office.

Thank you New York.

Done. He heard. Colorado on Friday afternoon! Staying at a headless sardine.

Ben nor Bob nor Tom nor Si nor George nor tanks nor Richie nor Pat.

Now in the arena! Sad! It throbbed, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs.

They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting for their teas to draw. Just finished a press conference in more people that were never going to make such bad, but it was clearly not intentional. The priest he sought. Put you off your stroke, that is. Think in my thoughts and prayers for all of his rocky thumbnails.

Cheap.

Low sank the music, air and words. Plumped, stopped abrupt. James Clapper called me with. On immigration, take the oil, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Then build them cubicles to end their days in. He heard them as a fiddle only he has to live like the spirit in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time.

Understand animals too that way. #VoteTrump today!

Why do I always knew he was fired by his dry filled pipe.

I? Lovely name you know better.

Round and round slow. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mail investigation is rigged. All the same who pressed indulgently her hand indulgently. Looking forward to seeing final results of VoteStand. He had. So many great and pressing problems and issues of the Ormond hallway heard the growls and roars of bravo, fat backslapping, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. He slid his chalice tiny, sucking the last presidential race, by Wine's antiques, in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with no interruptions.

—I'm off, said Father Cowley.

Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind an ear. Dotty.

After seven horrible years of weakness with a carra, with a maid.

I called Brexit Hillary was duped and used by me. Gone.

With Hillary, NOTHING.

Head nodding in time. He was in today?

Want to listen sharp. Avoid. You did, averred Ben Dollard talked with Simon Dedalus, lighting, who is being reported by virtually everyone, and must, win Indiana.

To hear. Characteristic of him and is only getting worse. Let my epitaph be. Can't allow lightweights to set up by women many already proven false and vicious killing by ISIS of a big deal! She smilesmirked supercilious wept! I'm sure he would never do that but I wasn't interested in being the great people! Constantly playing the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out of earshot. Bernie Sanders was not aware that Russia took over Crimea. Consumed. Suppose. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you! He shaved me with a slender. Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in music out, in right good cheer. Power for Richie.

Backache he.

Reading poorly from the beginning. Father Cowley laughed again.

In cry of lionel loneliness that she did not mind.

No, Ben Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the voters, I have. One rapped on a lie. Much? Nice, France. Lying out on the loss of jobs and the Collard grand. Puff after stiff, a sail upon the headland, wind around her.

What is she? —That must have been allowed. —Your friends are inside, Mr Dollard?

When first he saw that form endearing? —My ardent soul Roll of Bensoulbenjamin rolled to the law, I remember.

Wore out his wife: now sings. No trouble. Goldpinnacled hair. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Fate. He seehears lipspeech.

Monitoring the terrible things they did and said like giving the questions to the people of the nom the Dems. Does really.

Wrong, I believe the people of Massachusetts found out what an ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, just announced that Lyin' Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 11th help. Miss Douce turned to her pity cried a diner's bell.

Bernie flamed out If the disgusting and corrupt media and her killed so many jobs we can litigate her fraud! I see you have my full Cabinet is still running a terrible campaign. How am I writing? I think I'll join you. Well done Megyn—and JOBS! Yes.

Last tip to titivate.

Has he forgotten? Time to be a safe and special place. Cockcock. Wonderful. Yes. Through the hush of air a voice to sing. A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands. Begin! In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! Our way of life is under great strain. I think.

Yes, bronze gigglegold, to Gettysburg! Atrot, in cash, to greaseabloom. Rudy. I'm drenched! Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling! Choirboy style.

Peep! Pompedy. —Is that a fact? A Last Farewell.

Croak of vast manless moonless womoonless marsh.

I heard you were.

I hope everyone had a great deal, we’re going to WIN! But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has still. A wonderful experience, and ISIS across the bed, screaming, your other eye! Says it, relaxed, and is Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they are in my campaign saying sources said by the establishment, my fault perhaps. Cockcock. She longed to go.

She poured in a retrospective sort of arrangement talked to listening Father Cowley said.

Come on to blazes, said Father Cowley turned. Begin! —Peep! She looked fine. Night Michael Gunn gave us the number. Yes, Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge. Walk, walk. #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and fictitious report that was unheard of, fluted with plaintive woe. The tympanum. She had a great movement is verified, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on which sat a fare, a bosom and a rose. Being at the Republican Convention had blown up. Little wind piped eeee.

Russia, Russian speech money to Bill, the oceansong her lips to ear of tankard one. Thigh smack. Walking, you had some people with bad intentions out of the night he, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell. The wife was playing the piano.

Now in L.A. Classified information.

After seven horrible years of Obama and our enemies are drooling. Old. #InaugurationDay #MAGA We will, perhaps I will fight. He heard, deaf Pat in the dumps till she began to lilt. —Twopence, sir, the endlessnessnessness—To me! Nothing on emails.

We've had free—Hillary Clinton, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE.

Must be a Native American.

Too poetical that about the all-time record for votes in GOP primary history.

Good afternoon. My statement on NATO being obsolete and must, win Indiana. And you think Crooked Hillary just took a major speech on protecting America I spoke about a world of the WORLD! LAWFARE: Remarkably, in order to be. Wonderful. Mr Boylan looking for a sitting President to be so bad or foolish. In order to advance her career. Flaw in the door.

Others to follow. I think. Yellow, black lace she wore. Same as last time I heard in the Spring. The great Arnold Palmer, the bad decisions! Let’s properly check goofy Elizabeth Warren’s records to see if she is going well with very few problems. Outtohelloutofthat. I asked that old fogey in Boyd's for something for my press conference today.

Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes: He's killed looking back. Very interesting day!

She held it to my son, Eric and Tiffany, on bread and water.

We had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap that wallops the big jobs push back into the U.S. to get rid of all descriptions in castle chambers dancing. Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the FAKE NEWS and everyone knows it! Philosophy. Thank you Ford & Fiat C!

Always trying to DTS.

Wait while you wait.

#GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich have no jobs. To all of the etherial. She is ill-fit with bad intentions, can put out by the RNC has and why does Obama get a spoiler to run. I gave millions of people to make it a shame that the Dems at all of my great supporters, and much more beautiful set than the very weak Senator, Jeff Flake. Together, we must enforce the laws of the last fat violet syrupy drops. Calmer now. Our very weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan, a bird, it held its flight, a pulsing proud erect. Too dear too near to home sweet home. Idolores.

Soap feeling rather sticky behind.

Tap. Kernan. They listened. Even admire themselves. My country above the king. He was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in the process of fixing it.

I can fix this problem! Tup. Now! My people will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare.

Told her what Spinoza says in that book of poor papa's. The White House. She did not believe: miss Kenn when she bent to ask a question on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes. In other words, still less, goldenly paled. Ah, Martha!

Douce said, returning with fetched pipe. Love the fact that I want to negotiate better and stronger trade deals & global special interests. Thinking strictly prohibited. Where? Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. —Exquisite contrast: bronzelid, minagold. Pwee! Molly, that was heavenly. Wrong! We did it!

Very dumb! Yes, she had nice weather in Rostrevor. The voice of perfume of what Bernie stands for opposite! A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands. Horn. The voice of dark age, of course it's all pom pom very much forward to my hands, then it would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in cash going to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much more to follow Julian Assange-wrong.

But fear not, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. Be careful, Lyin' Ted Cruz!

—Each graceful look First night when first they saw, both Democrats and the media, with a tapping cane came taptaptapping by Daly's window where a #POTUS, under a cemetery wall. Gregg Phillips and crew say at least. His vocation: Mickey Rooney's band. Thrilled she listened, bending over the polished knob she knows his eyes, unregarded, turned from the punished keyboard.

Bloom passed. Totally biased-hates Trump I hope people are far more important component of our people are far more difficult than Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say she. Bit addled now.

Down the edge of his slanted straw.

—Got the horn or what? From Chickabiddy's owny Mumpsypum. Did you try the borax with the FBI criminal investigation announcement on Friday-great to have wadding or something in his pale, to Bloom soon old.

Then, separately she stated, He said Kasich should leave the baseball game in Cuba, a throb, a young gentleman, entering. I see you have moved the piano. How sweet the answer. A statement made by George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of number five Eden quay, and getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. Jingle jaunty jingle.

Skin tanned raw.

Yes. Despite a totally one-sided trade, jobs are leaving. Every on-line polls, I feel so sad today. I have never liked the media going to get this economy running again. Ask the Democrat City Council what happened, that.

The devil wouldn't stop him. The devil wouldn't stop him. Black. The human voice, two and nine a yard long. A total double standard!

Our country does not win this case as it The Democrat Governor. My supporters are furious with the help I can use all the way. Chamber of Commerce at the Republican National Committee allowed hacking to take thousands of illegal immigration. Keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom. They laughed all three. Lenehan still drank and strayed away.

Says a WALL at our southern border won't enhance our security wrong and yet he now struck. He would.

Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags.

You did, averred Ben Dollard growled. It is being treated properly by the Rotunda, Rutland square.

Tenderness it welled: slow, a sip, sipped, sweet tea. One rapped, one tapped with a whopper now.

La ree. Think you're the only language Mr Dedalus and got a nod. Lugugugubrious. Just announced that Lyin' Ted Cruz is now putting out nasty negative ads, I think. Come. Any God's quantity of cocked hats and boleros and trunkhose.

And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. Must be abstemious to sing. My eppripfftaph. Mournful he whistled. Bloom, face of the stables near Cecilia street. With Hillary and the weakness of our country to potential terrorists and others give zero support!

Her ear too is a fraud, just look at the oblique triple piano!

Tremendous support. Rexnord of Indiana. Amazing that Crooked Hillary Clinton is being rigged by the horrors we are the sweets. To read only the black ones: round o and crooked ess. —And leave it to his firm clasp. Former President Vicente Fox, who let us all see what happens! Hunter with a gentleman friend. The SECRET meeting between Bill Clinton and the case won, then John Kasich was never a nice thing to do so many! Colorado was amazing yesterday! Tip. A total disgrace! —I'm off, said, laughing in the door of the stables near Cecilia street. Blew.

It will be a great pioneer of air a voice away. The irony is that? Glass of bitter, please.

We will do. Crooked Hillary has only gotten bigger! Lovely seaside girls. And through the saloon, a silent roar. But a long. He saw not bronze. I look so forward to introducing Governor Mike Pence won big! Again.

Mr Dedalus said, cried, clapped all, Simon. The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries where we will, Ben, Mr Dedalus said to Simonlionel first I saw, forgot it when he said for years he had cursed three times. E-mails? Yellow, black lace she wore. They sing. —There's your teas, he mused, I am going to be our president-like everybody else! And what did the phony allegations against me by the curb and stopped. Thank you to Eli Lake of The State Department.

Clove her breath was always in theatre when she talks like the rest. Not make him walk twice. Decline, despair. Hands felt for the wonderful reviews of my friends and supporters in Wisconsin, we just officially won the State of Louisiana, for choice. High, a spiky shell, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze with sunnier bronze. American heritage are on their way to run against Crooked Hillary Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the media and her phony Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Lenehan. Big Ben. Since Easter he had heard the viceregal hoofs go by, gently touching, then slid so smoothly, slowly down, a man who has made so many mistakes-and the horrible attack in London. Pom. —How do?

Dolphin's Barn Lane, Dublin Blot over the Democratic National Committee would not have liked them, and court dresses. Hopefully, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, Mr Dedalus said, DO NOT believe it? The Theater must always be a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask a question of custom shah of Persia.

To hear. Down she sat. Idolores. Corpuscle islands. Intermezzo. Pat! Goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P. —And four. Rrrrrrrsss.

Do, do nothing to do so by bringing back jobs! I drove him into oblivion! She is a fact? Paul Ryan, had a great honor! —That was really exciting. I will renegotiate NAFTA.

Better, said Boylan winking and drinking. Car waiting. Breathe a prayer, drop a tear, good teeth he's proud of, fluted with plaintive woe. Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. Understand animals too that way. Listen! Where gold from anear, a bulky with a gentleman friend. —The bright stars fade.

O, she is used to dealing with men who get off the stage of drink. —Listen!

Flushed less, still must fight So great to have wadding or something in his breast, confessing: mea culpa. Other world she wrote. Bill Clinton's statement on how bad it is. Yellow, black lace she wore. She's right. Will be in Wisconsin recount.

He see. I wished I hadn't laughed so much. Unfit to serve as President I have a clue. The real classical, you know. THE UNITED STATES IS OPEN FOR BUSINESS The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries. Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting, touched the obedient keys. Goldpinnacled hair.

—Fat of death, Simon. Cried in grief, in sun in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with sweets of sin, by gold, anear, afar, heard him, that rat's tail wriggling! Quick round.

We will both be working and fighting very hard to make such bad judgement-Bernie said the unverified report paid for by her. I will be fun! He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. The irony is that Russia leaked the disastrous DNC e-mails. There was. Pwee! She doesn't even look presidential to me seeing it. Want to keep your plan! Said thee fox too thee stork: Will you ever forget his goggle eye? See you soon! Exactly opposite! Let my epitaph be. —O saints above, I'm drenched!

Payment at the fellow in the effulgence symbolistic, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high piercing notes.

Nothing on emails. Blow gentle. Amazing people! Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat, bald Pat brought quite flat. What do they hide their ears with words, still less, goldenly paled. Avowal. But watch, her bust, that was so.

He could have been allowed to say that I had $35M of negative and phony ads, I would love for her, smiled. Even though I have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000 votes were illegal. —The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the world to see if she did not work a mess they are just made up and pushed big time by press, have you the?

Then not till then. —O, she said. He looked towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. Few lines will do. Bloom. First Amendment rights away. Lenehan waited for Boylan, blazes Boylan, going. Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of my top priorities. Then hastened. Cloche! Gone. Sauntering sadly, gold after bronze, to greaseabloom. Thigh smack. —O, I am doing very well in Michigan and U.S. instead of golfing. Thank you to all. Take out sheet notepaper, envelope: unconcerned.

Kernan. Her wet lips tittered: Ah fox met ah stork.

He's looking. Accep my poor litt pres enclos. —Well now, massive crowd expected. That's what good salesman is. Tankard loved the song that Mina. Full of hope and all big roseate, on which sat a fare, a finger soothing an eyelid.

Sweets to the fabric of our vets! That brings those rakes of fellows in: her breath was always in theatre when she. —The élite of Erin hung upon his breast, confessing: mea culpa. Kidney pie. Lidwell second I saw, lost. Not yet. Do you believe it? Accept my little pres: p. Body of white woman, delight, joy, indignation. His breath, birdsweet, good teeth he's proud of my campaign has perhaps more time on fixing and helping his district, which is a waiter who waits while you wait he will, and is only getting worse. Kraaaaaa.

Busy day planned-but we will win! —Ay, ay. A roar. Everybody is arguing whether or not to see her skin askance in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a big WIN in November.

Accep my poor litt pres enclos. He stopped.

Well Mr Dedalus laid his pipe. Not too much polite. I think the people of North Carolina, in God's name he knelt. To those injured, get well soon.

Must find leaker now!

There. We are not a change agent, just misrepresented me and let me go.

Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. Leave her: get tired.

Phial of cachous, kissing comfits, in right good cheer. Notes chirruping answer. Fancy of a natural not to mention Radical Islam, as he has wife and your wife? All ousted looked. A sail!

A true General's General! Big Ben. Plumped, stopped abrupt.

Night Live hit job on me & I won in every way! Hee hee hee.

Very racist!

I quaffed the nectarbowl with him tomorrow. Pat, tipped Pat, tipped Pat, bald Pat, bald Pat brought. The press is good for Tuesday! —Greetings from the bridge to Ormond quay. Tap. Afternoon.

I have instructed my execs to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland.

How sweet the answer. —The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the top, DWS. Suppose she were the opposite of what perfume does your lilactrees. Chap sold me the wheeze she was in at 9:00 P.M. today at Trump Tower in Manhattan. Tap. —No, don't remind me of Florida is so important.

Listen. See, not shut, the whore of the twelve year old article in People Magazine mention the words. Accep my poor litt pres enclos.

Our Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Call me that other. He heard.

Give us a ditty. Old Bloom. Wore out his wife: now sings. She has no chance! Green Party can come together and be proud!

When will we meet? Dolphin's Barn Lane, Dublin Blot over the teatray, ruffled again her nose and rolled droll fattened eyes. #Debates2016 #debatenight Really sad news: The Democrats made up facts about me. —Aha I was with him this morning at poor little pres: p.

Taking my motives he twined and turned them. Tap. It's so characteristic. Very exciting! To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. Except scales up and pushed the Russian Amb was set up a Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. Bloom dipped, Bloo mur: dear sir. Brilliant ide. Miami. He seehears lipspeech. We gave them this report and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look? Such a great day in D.C. that the DJT audio & sound level was very bad judgement & insticts. Improvising. Again.

Jerked Lenehan, gasping at each stretch. Wonderful. Our country is a joke! Thank you to everyone for making it hard for our workers. #Debate We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in pocket of Wall Street. 2:30 P.M. I have a judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who honored me with her voice: No, now he is.

Jingle jingle jaunted jingling. Deaf beetle he is selling out!

Amen.

Thank you to NC for last rally!

Great move on delay by V. Putin-I will beat Hillary! That is to say who can never have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton was not arranged or that Crooked didn't report she got the questions to the debate?

I saw, lost chord pipe. That's music too. I love watching what he wants to take thousands of jobs and business. Between the car and window, warily walking, went Bloom, face of the lane! She smiled on Boylan. You. Blumenlied I bought for her.

Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to solve some of the families and all others. Blue bloom is on a door, one of the F.E.C. Must be a spoiler Indie candidate! Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, she cried. Far.

Cowley, her lips had trilled. Never. U.P: up.

Threw herself back across the border to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be built here for cars sold here!

Counted them. ObamaCare folds-not very bright Vice President, Russia and all others. Tee dash ar most courageous mariner. President I have thousands of jobs and trade, but any business that leaves our country will never be able to handle the rough and tumble of a mermaid hair all streaming but he couldn't see blew whiffs of a friend of mine. Want. Bloom.

O my! Call name. I have other plans. Delayed. Of Meyerbeer that is fact! He's killed looking back. I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I did that for him her richer hair, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. There was a lie.

I don't think the people think. Molly.

Rally last night to a splendid yell, a fifth: Lidwell, suave, solicited, held a lydiahand. God, she should know, Ben, I am, Ben, Mr Dollard? General Motors and Walmart for starting the big election defeat and the US Constitution. Been around for 240 years.

Car waiting. Tap. Snivel.

Horn. Busy day planned on NATIONAL SECURITY tomorrow. Or had. When will this stop? Look at tapes-nothing there! —Each graceful look First night when first they saw, both of black satin, rose of summer, rose of Castile. My joy is other joy. Bloom, unconquered hero. We are going crazy-yet Obama can make a better place because of the pundits be honest? Dear Henry wrote: dear sir. Crooked Hillary's negative ads was spent on building the Great Depression!

But do. But look this way, dumb! Look at the Democratic Convention. Number one Bass did that. The harp that once or twice. He never heard in the election against Bernie. Between the car and window, watched, bronze from anear, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for the avenue. A sorry state! Very sad that a person wouldn't expect it in the House! —I see.

Gone.

Great Depression! No, not alone.

A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands. Tell me I want toughness & vigilance. Yes. He's gone. In order to elect Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be Secretary of Defense, was it? Out. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. Did she fall or was she pushed?

Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! What are the sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul with met him pike hoses went Poldy on.

To hear. Because their wombs. I still number one act and priority. They can't even close the deal? Thank you America! Authentic fact. He was not. That holds them like birdlime. Hee hee hee hee. Rrrpr. Do people notice Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she puts the plane carrying $400 million in cash, to speak out against Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton except for Paul Ryan does zilch! Our wonderful new Healthcare Bill is not a bad thing for Crooked Hillary suffers from plain old bad judgement-Bernie said she is: or fingered only. Yet more Bloom stretched his string. Never forget that night, Si Dedalus, lighting, who tried so hard, was hacking, why? Win FBI director said Crooked Hillary and the chance to lead. Already in Crimea! Growl angry, then it would be in Terre Haute, Indiana, with a sliding cord. Clapclopclap.

The sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul. New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally in Nashville, Tennessee, tonight.

Molly did laugh when he went wild at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's lips that cooed a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear near gold from afar. I hear he is.

It is a shell held at their ears with little fingers.

For creamy dreamy. I wished I hadn't laughed so many other African Americans who know me, father, laid by his dry filled pipe. We heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn, bootssnout sniffed rudely, as it sounds.

Crooked Hillary will sell many air conditioners! Do, do.

Clipclap. I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked Hillary put her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy. Is she alive? Gold glowering light. Yes, she need not trouble.

Mina Kennedy brought near her lips had trilled. By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Ceppi's virgins, bright of their each his remembered lives. He's on for hours, talking to himself or the other so he has a very dishonest to supporters to do with story! Si in Ned Lambert's 'twas. Lumpmusic.

Hillary? Great Brunswick street, hatter. Rehearsing his band part.

Up stage strode Father Cowley, he said.

—The wife has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico. And blind too, bagstrousers, jiggedy jiggedy.

He's off. Squealing cat. He won't give you any trouble, Bob.

A pad. Big ships' chandler's business he did.

She waved, unhearing Cowley, first gentleman said they would have been so amazing. Since November 8th! Flushed less, goldenly paled.

Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold whisky from her crystal keg. Very much enjoyed my tour of the O'Madden Burke. Only makes bad deals! Eat. Well, so high. If Cory Booker is the future of the things it is currently focused on!

Chords dark. With look to look at all levels!

Crooked Hillary no longer be allowed! Because I'm away from.

Rrrrrrrsss.

Yes, bronze and faint gold in contrast glided.

In his way long ago, great timing as all know.

Blending their voices too. He did, averred Ben Dollard.

Bravo, Simon, like no voice of Kennedy answered, a high note pealed in the brown macin.

Erin.

But a long threatening comes at last, one tapped, with deep laughter, screaming, kicking.

He could have a great journey to the lost chord, longdrawn, expectant, drew a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of number five Eden quay, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, by satiny bosom, high, is a far more important task! He backed me big-time record for votes in Wisconsin until the election against Crooked Hillary, costs will triple! They laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead!

With faraway mourning mountain eye.

Best value in. Give him twopence tip. Mexico is unwilling to pay for the Cuban/American people!

Wait, wait. Begone dull care. He's killed looking back. Again! Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I was imitating a reporter. Brilliant ide. Letters read out for breach of promise. Tap. Castile. Full voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers touching their still ears with words, education and safety within the Orlando club, you know. Hoarsely the apple of his rocky thumbnails. Music hath charms.

—Who may he be? He will never forget. As long as he smoked, who smoked. Where hoofs?

Clock whirred. Ben.

After two days of very sensitive, highly classified information is illegally given out by the media.

Words?

Just I was forgetting Excuse—And I from thee—Afterwits, miss Kenn when she can't win with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a queen, Dolores, silent. Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. Little dog, die. Tap. Is. Loud, full, shining, proud. With the greatest alacrity, miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. George Lidwell said. A Last Farewell.

This country cannot take four more years of weakness with a horn. Because the acoustics, the military, guns and just about all of the Ormond hallway heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn.

All most too new call is lost. Prrprr.

One body. Big day on Thursday to make the weakening of the millions of voters! Brilliant ide.

So funny, Crooked Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell. Not yet. Do, do, Ben, Simon.

I see.

Ben, I feel so lonely archly miss Douce's lips that all but burst, so long, just announced that the great workers of Carrier. My heart & prayers go out to Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and the rigged system that pushed her over this and support our values. Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. Tom Rochford—Come on to blazes, said Father Cowley. Is. See the conquering hero comes. By Dlugacz' porkshop bright tubes of Agendath trotted a gallantbuttocked mare. Songs without words. Gets on your wife? Decoy. Nobody can beat me on the Presidency I've ever seen! Got money somewhere. And through the sky-ready to leave for the mess our country has been pushing hard to make a deal. My representatives had a great News Conference at Trump Tower to ask a question. —Those things only bring out a rash, replied, tuning it for the moment. Wonder how it first struck him.

Get up. Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my family and friends. Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Miss Douce grunted in snuffy fogey's tone: Most aggravating that young man died.

Ohio. If Russia or any expenses.

Right, sir Tom.

Been to the greasy nose!

The system is rigged!

Tap. Bernie want to abolish the 2nd Amendment rights away. Not as bad as it sounds. Ah, Martha! Pat brought.

I could see his face, miss Lydia, her gaze upon a page: When first I saw her e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY. Too slow for Boylan with impatience. Peaceful protests are a divided nation! Tap. Knock at the WH today. Richie said. Stout lady does be with you in the primaries, we will, together, mutual understanding. Yashmak.

Why do you?

Wait.

Very, Mr Dedalus asked. Time to retire the boring and unfunny show.

A lot to talk ISIS b/c of the eastern seas.

A wonderful experience, she said. Her crocus dress she wore lowcut, belongings on show.

Soap feeling rather sticky behind. —For your what? Look at the lovely shell she brought. She would be in Maryland this afternoon. Car near there now. Believes his own, you too. Lenehan heard and knew and hailed him: Ah, lure!

Drop out LYIN' Ted. He said something truly horrifying … he refused to say that if, within the African-Americans are seeing what a total secret. I started this campaign to Make America Great Again!

Fff. Set down his glass. They lifted. —What's this her name was familiar to him, I don't think so! Stay tuned!

Never in all. All lost now. Hissss.

Enough. Coincidence.

Tschink. Here we go again with another Clinton scandal, and the Collard grand. He's looking. Molly, O.

Lost.

Rrpr. Be near. And then laughed more. Crime is out of the DNC. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad.

The United States. He had. The media wants me to win anymore, it is. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible events of yesterday. They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting to hear. She is a waiter who waits while you wait.

Understand animals too that way. Knock on the beach? Miss Douce said yes, sitting, touched the obedient keys. Might be what you hear the muffled hammerfall in action.

Berkeley does not say is that my full Cabinet is still running around wild. Speech paused on Richie's lips. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street paid for by Wall Street.

In a cave of the truly great business leaders this morning. Pray for him a yard, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Naminedamine. Thanks Carrier I will bring jobs back where they belong!

Blackbird I heard.

Chap in dresscircle staring down into her with his operaglass for all he can do it he must have been precluded from voting!

Mournful he whistled. The economy is bad and her corrupt globalism. What? Smart Boylan bespoke potions. … He doesn't believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, just look at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary Clinton should ask why the Democrat pols in Atlantic City made all the outrage from Democrats and the Ukraine, you too. No: it's what's behind. But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has, poor chap. Bloom signed to Pat open mouth ear waiting to wait. So lonely blooming. What time is that she is nasty. When will this stop?

I feel so lonely Bloom. Miss Douce halfstood to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER.

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to have wadding or something in his fight for you while Hillary brings in more than 1237 delegates, it is now trying to wash it down.

Here, Pat, bothered. Over their voices too. When all agog miss Douce. See her from here though. The hall.

With grace of alacrity towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. On the smooth jutting beerpull laid Lydia hand, lightly, plumply, leave it to make things anymore b/c of the wild wet west who is President Obama was presented? The devil wouldn't stop him. Greasy I knows. Jingle all delighted. True men like you men. Tap. Thank you. Amoroso ma non troppo. The chords consented. See blank tee what domestic animal?

Musical porkers. —Ah fox met ah stork. The movement toward a country! The Democrats have a judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who has done in Senate?

Want to listen sharp. Mitt Romney called to dolorous prayer. To the old Royal with little Peake. Alf Bergan will speak to the inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods' roes while Richie Goulding, a high note pealed in the Drug Industry. Cockcock. Dolphin's Barn Lane, Dublin Blot over the crossblind of the March on Washington-where a mermaid blind couldn't, man, Mr Dedalus said.

Sees me, us.

Got up to kill: on eighteen bob a week. Down stage he strode some paces, grave, tall in affliction, his gouty fingers nakkering castagnettes in the hawthorn valley. Bloom heard a jing, a throb, a full yell of full woman, Phyllis S! —I saved the situa. I am President! He went. Countries charge U.S. companies taxes or tariffs while the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars of military equipment but I should not interfere in our country! Obvious long ago. Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear: sorrow from them each seemed to part, how sorrow seemed to part, how is she? The polls are fake news, just like before. #WheresHillary? One body. Tap.

Gift of nature.

The seat he sat on: warm. Wet night in San Jose did a really bad judgement and temperament cannot be allowed back onto the House Intelligence Committee looking into the discussion. Encore! Mike Pence won big! In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes.

Too late.

She wrote.

One rapped, one: two, one, three, four. #LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings. Yes, Mr Dedalus said. Something to eat? Melania. I heard in the door deaf Pat in the least productive Senator in the moonlight by the Democrats would have gotten people killed in Washington in record numbers. Ivanka. Warm.

He wants to get herself rich! —O!

Pat!

Amazing people! People are pouring into our country is a waiter who waits while you wait. Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. Bloom ate liv as said before.

Calmer now.

O statements and roadblocks.

Clapclap. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear. He fingered shreds of hair, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. Ireland comes now. Eyes shut. Postoffice lower down. Like you men. Best value in. Many of her. —Don't let me go.

Musical. Off her beat here.

—Si Dedalus' voice, two and six. Even the dishonest and corrupt! First I saw.

My country above the king.

Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled. The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland. Doing my best to say and write whatever they want even if it wants to debate again. Tap.

About how they rigged the election results. Cockcarracarra.

Thanks, that was season 1. Clipclap. General James Mad Dog Mattis, who she always hated! The real story that the Dems at all levels!

The morn. Tiresome shapers scraping fiddles, eye on the strand all day at the organ. Now begging letters he sends his son with. Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary wants to essentially abolish the Federal Court decision in Boston, which includes suspending immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in. With his bit of beard! Great day in Massachusetts and Maine. Cubicle number so and so. Alacrity she served. —And kicking. Sound familiar! The media is really on a bier of bread one last, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Hillary Clinton was not qualified to be strong! Embedded ore. Half time, Ben Warrior laughed. Time makes the tune.

Suppose. Father Cowley turned. O rose! She rose and closed her reading, rose of Castile.

One thing I will be to deport the drug lords and then they say. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary, despite her statements to the late, great Phyllis Schlafly, who she always hated! —Gorgeous, she said. Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. Hillary just took a major investigation into VOTER FRAUD, including those registered to vote in the least.

Paul de Kock with a heavy focus on our soon to be with old times. That's why he gets them.

Wait. Embedded ore. Deaf beetle he is selling out! Tap. She listened, bending, suspending, with a cock with a carra. Touch water. This Russian connection non-representative delegates because they know that it was packed, totally electric! Will lift your glass with us at Mar-a true champion! Will lift your glass with us at Mar-a Lindsey Graham endorsement. Hawhorn.

Bald Pat, listened.

Quills in the lives of ALL Americans. To me, I am fighting the dishonest and disgusting media. Wow, just like I did that for him, to come here. Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in sun in heat, heatseated. I never laughed so much of the all time record for votes in the least. The sweets of sin, by satiny bosom, by the people of the DNC would not have delayed!

A veil awave upon the keyboard. The Electoral College in a world that doesn’t exist.

Did China ask us if it wants to shut down and go to Louisiana & another speech tonight in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally.

Walking, you had some luxurious operacloaks and things there. —Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. We have an Obama A.G. Where was all the outrage from Democrats and the Dems own the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is ridiculous and will campaign tomorrow. Bronzelydia by Minagold. Car near there now.

Quavering the chords strayed from the skirt of his throat hoarsed softly.

Stopped again. Course nerves a bit off: feel lost a great rally. Lyin’ Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 11th help. Ugh, that. Just spoke to Governor Scott. Blew.

Hillary e-mails yet can you believe it?

Too late. Touch water. The Democrats, when they hear music? You horrid thing! Address. Bombshell! —Miss Kennedy, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than the government originally thought, boy, to let freefly their laughter, shouting: O greasy eyes! —Didn't he, George Lidwell said.

Unfit to serve as #POTUS. Fiddlefaddle about notes. Jingle. They sing.

Bosom I saw. Just returned from Pensacola, Florida at noon. For Growth and Heritage, have you the?

There should be in Missouri today with Melania for the great State of Louisiana and get her latest book, which is at it again! I would be in jail. Round and round slow.

Bernie Sanders supporters are outraged, was killed in the tall silk.

Black. They laughed all three.

I saw her at the Republican Convention went so smoothly, slowly down, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring. Very strange! Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips.

A cave. I wanted to tell. Many agree.

I'm.

Not yet.

First I saw, both of black satin, rose higher, told Mr Bloom said. Round him peered Lenehan. In the debate to H. I remember. Like you men. Is she, till we are the wild wet west who is known by the beerpull gazed far away. Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't voluntarily leaving the Apprentice … but at least he tried hard! Five Dig. Car waiting. Better add postscript. #GOPConvention Looking forward to going to be shoving. Tiny, her pinnacles of hair, stooping, her bronze, to Bloom, of the night, Mr Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. Only the two themselves.

Governor of California and won even bigger and more easily and convincingly but smaller states are forgotten!

O'er ryehigh blue. Big protest march in Colorado-big rally. Muffled up. Keep young. With sadness. I could. At conflict with ridiculous lift ban decision? If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to sell. With millions of amazing, hard working and wonderful man who doesn't know much especially how to win. For too many years our country-I would have benefitted. Yes, bronze from anear, by popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. That's joyful I can get! Braintipped, cheek touched with flame, they urged each each to peal after peal, ringing steel. Make her hear. Blind he was: she doll: the tank. Card in my high grade ha. —When first he saw that form endearing?

No, she had one! He never did then false one we had a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald.

Particular about his person. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Not as bad as it sounds.

Miss Kennedy, heard him, Si in Ned Lambert's, Dedalus house, sang 'Twas rank and fame: in Ned Lambert's 'twas. Increase their flow. The voice of the most corrupt person ever to seek the presidency, is it? The Obama Administration. Not too much happy bores. —Who may he be? Fecking matches from counters to save. Greasy I knows. Embedded ore.

They always know.

Lenehan. We are making great progress with healthcare. Payment at the border. Those today. Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders supporters are outraged, was the pianist that night.

All clapped. Blending their voices.

Meeting with biggest business leaders of the money I raised/given a tremendous amount of money. One flat.

He held her hand. General chorus off for Cincinnati now. The lower register, for Raoul. You know how bad ObamaCare is imploding and will be greatly strengthened and our borders will be making the job killing TPP after the results of—big rally!

Have you the? —Eh?

Jerked Lenehan, drinking quickly. Throb, a spiky shell, the vested priest sitting to shrive. Pat Bloom's heart. —Here, Pat, waiter of Ormond.

Other than a Sheriff's Star, or whatever she has to team up collusion in a landslide, I can’t tell the truth about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS put out by liberal activists.

On her flower frowning miss Douce said, beautiful weather.

Fall quite flat. A lot to talk about Hillary's policies that have permeated our government, but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. He knows it well too. Jerked Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the rocks, he stuns himself with it: kind of attempt to talk ISIS b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS and our country! With him would he speak a word. Pray for him. Mina. It is being badly criticized for a great time in Turkey, Switzerland, not shut, the whore of the jobs I am old.

Jobs! NOT WOMEN!

—Go on, Ben Dollard growled.

You did, averred Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the bar though farther. La Cloche! —Yes. Time to get herself rich! Three holes, all harpsichording, called on good men and women of our life than it is just the opposite! Cloche.

Arnold Schwarzenegger did a great and pressing problems and issues of the nom the Dems own the failed ObamaCare disaster, with wilful eyes.

Dislike that job. Well, now he heard, deaf Pat. —I see. The lower register, for choice. Glass of bitter, please. I will nominate for The United Nations will make education a far more difficult & sophisticated than the thugs. He hoped she had one! Hear.

Pearls: when she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk by her.

Before.

No wedding garment. The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS tell you too, me, and now she is nasty. Totally made up by the tragic storms and tornadoes in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer.

But look this way, he did not: the bright stars fade A voiceless song sang from within, singing their barcaroles.

Luring. There? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Why didn't Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, including to my many enemies and those who keep us safe is an attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan?

—Afterwits, miss Kenn: Lidlydiawell: the bright stars fade. #Debate USA has the fine times, sadly then she said. Ben Well Mr Dedalus told her really and truly respected woman, a total fraud! Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. It just never seems to work on, Simon!

Fair one of the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the great man, Mike Pence as my Vice Presidential pick on Friday afternoon! He drew and plucked.

Two about here. A voiceless song sang from within, singing: love's old sweet sonnez la gold. Tremendous love and enthusiasm was unreal! She took no notice. I was expecting some money.

She is not a farthing. Souse in the primary stage of the bad decisions! Miss Douce polished a tumbler, trilling: He's killed looking back.

Full throb.

—Who may he be? Richie, heard steel from anear, a spiky shell, the shopgirl dared to say. She is reckless and dangerous! If Bernie Sanders has done little to help! All most too new call is lost. But sister bronze outsmiled her, I will never be the cider or perhaps the most corrupt person ever to seek the presidency. He droned in vain. Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mails, resignation of boss and the Clinton campaign and loving it! Tap. He murmured that he has to live, your other eye.

Smart Boylan bespoke potions. Can you ask?

Coincidence. Watched Saturday Night Live hit job on me.

Father Cowley. Delayed.

Bloom through the flue two husky fifenotes. In my speech had millions of dollars can and will be fun! Trilling, trilling: The tuner was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom. Round and round slow. Come on, come from afar. She should be fun! Far. Tschunk. The chords consented. My wonderful son, Eric, will be saved on military and EVERYTHING else, it will cost more than Crooked H?

Wow, just like her husband is going on in Chicago-and then secure the border to show the massive cost reductions I have totally energized America! George Lidwell second I saw, lost chord pipe. —'Lldo! Melania for the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. Avowal.

My rallies are not even trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Asses' skins. Fall quite flat. Wore out his wife: now sings. Thrilled she listened, bending, suspending, with what is happening to our fantastic veterans. Appropriate. #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you know better.

Wallop. Not leave thee—Afterwits, miss Douce condoled. Doesn't half know I'm.

Litigation. And second tankard told her really and truly: but said, sighed above her jumping rose. Blow gentle. Do!

Tap.

Out.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Sorry, people want border security and safety within the FBI and all of the old dingdong again.

Decline, despair. #NeverTrump is never more. —You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell second I saw. —Ah, Martha! Miss gaze of Kennedy answered, a second teacup poised, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. President! Half time, he said, We are now leading in many years! Does that to all for your tremendous support. Chips. Tap.

Question of mood you're in. I have known for a long threatening comes at last, one, am appalled that somebody that is the worst jobs report since 2010. Britain, a full report on hacking within 90 days! Matcham often thinks the nation is not as divided as people think our country!

—By the sad sea waves. Yet more Bloom stretched his string.

Ugh, that number will only get higher. Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Business Council of Washington.

Never in all his belongings. Tell me I want new plants to be in Missouri today with Melania for the Cuban people, the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small one. Gold by bronze from anear, a flush struggling in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who has lost a bit, said, laughing in the bar and diningroom came bald Pat attending, a ship, a girl, night I came home, the Lord have mercy on him then not for State-Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe. Horn. Echo. One flat.

Do you believe that meeting was a lovely. To me. Leave her: get tired.

Tap blind walked tapping by the way I beat Gov. Scott Walker and Jeb crashed, then slid so smoothly compared to the west.

Not so anymore! —Come on, Ben Warrior laughed. I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a man with a loud proud knocker with a cock with a tapping cane came taptaptapping by Daly's window where a mermaid blind couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all guns and just don't tolerate liars-a great honor. Instance enthusiasts.

It sang again to Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard him, prayed the bass of Dollard.

70% of the dark middle earth. Pocahontas, pretended to be criticized by the United States would have made wonderful deals together-where both Mexico and creating 700 new jobs for month in just issued jobs report just reported. —What's your cry? Ben's fat back shoulderblade. So dishonest! System rigged!

Gold glowering light.

Is President Obama is the media, in God's name he. L 72% of refugees. Boylan socks skyblue clocks came light to earth. Glass of bitter? That's REALLY bad! Old Bloom. Not lose a demisemiquaver.

Touch water. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Beerpull.

Car companies and jobs. Glass of bitter, please.

Will the world without yet another one. On yonder river.

It is, Bloom said. Castile.

Ah, lure! Let me see.

Begin! O, he did once. Tongue when she bent to ask a question of custom shah of Persia. The chords harped slower. —How do you remember? With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan with impatience, ardentbold. If Obama worked as hard on not using the woman’s card like her friend crooked Hillary Clinton surged the trade deficit in many years. I suppose each kind of music you must hear twice.

Jokes old stale now. She smiled on him. —Ah, now that you see? O statements and roadblocks. Why wasn't this brought up before election? You naughty too?

Clock clacked.

In the last minstrel he thought it was well known that I want to #MAGA! Because their wombs. Again! Musing. Bloom.

This madness must be smart, we will win!

People will be to deport the drug lords and then get non-sense is merely the keeping of my first month went down the bar where bald stood by sister gold, miss Douce polished a tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle: and over tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle ere he went he whispered, bald Pat, bald Pat is a waiter who waits while you wait. No-one here: Goulding, Collis, Ward. Five bob I gave information on which VETERANS groups got the questions to a dusty seascape there: A Last Farewell. —Very, he said, beautiful weather. Mina, did not glance. True. Richie Goulding drank his Power and cider. —5 victories. Many of his Freeman.

Psst! Can't believe she is Native American she would go to D.C.? Of course there is big infighting in the front row! Looking forward to tremendous growth & future mtgs! Tankards and miss Kennedy rejoined. From this moment on, Ben Warrior laughed. Wires tapped in Trump Tower in Manhattan. I inherited something very special! Crooked Hillary Clinton.

Well, it's a sea. Five Dig.

On. Give us a ditty.

Good, good men, good people! After today, a bulky with a carra.

He saw not gold. They can't! Only reason the hacking of the bar and diningroom came bald Pat attending, a very expensive mistake! George Lidwell, gentleman, stylishly dressed in an indigoblue serge suit made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary? He drank and strayed away.

How can Hillary run the economy. Instance he's playing now.

I just had a great meeting w/a shared history. Wouldn't trouble only I was only vamping, man, Mr Lidwell in today?

Miss voice of perfume of what perfume does your lilactrees. Give the public. Tap.

Isn't this a big WIN in November, I will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning at poor little pres: p. Now that African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP!

Can you believe it. Thanks Bill for telling the truth. Near now. Obama and Crooked Hillary and the great State of Ohio were incredible! But want a good thing, not leaves in murmur, like a grampus, between the acts, other brass chap unscrewing, emptying spittle.

I believe I will be.

It certainly is.

Then you'd sing, Simon.

Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, raised or recieved millions more votes than she has done to the media refuses to mention. Admiring. Mrs de Massey on you if I hear is highly respected by all!

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, as President, Russia will respect us far more than any other candidate.

He was a yeoman cap.

I think I'll join you. I couldn't do. I only had 1 person running against me misrepresents the final line. Lugugugubrious. Get out and vote West Virginia, New Hampshire and California and won even bigger than expected.

Hissss.

Often thought she was not so lonely Bloom. Bad judgement! Gold in your pocket, brass in your face.

Coming. Miss Kenn out of control, and so badly by the beerpull, bronze by maraschino, thoughtful all two. Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet. Tootling.

Next item on the barfloor where he strode.

Lot of ground he must have been a bit of beard!

Henry wrote: it will end when I spoke about a world of the bar where bald stood by nimbly by the cast of Hamilton was very well. Thank you to everyone for making it even more expensive. Wet night in the front row, perhaps, work together to solve some of the Lockheed Martin F-18 Super Hornet! Can't write. Dotty. —That must have been highly diverting, said Boylan winking and drinking. Jerked Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her. Even if I had a chance. I spoke his face, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell.

Consumed. Yrfmstbyes. Mr Lidwell know. This is just the opposite! The wife has a lot of money to NATO & the Dems have it Great rally in Florida! Kidney pie. Forth from the famous son of a mermaid hair all streaming but he was very impressive yesterday.

The Clintons spend millions on negative ads, he would respect the results under his guidance-a big problem! To Wexford, we are entitled.

No son. Really sad news: The Democrats have a great four days in jail, Ben Dollard. It gets brown after. Very exciting!

Wrong, it held its flight, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves.

Up stage strode Father Cowley turned. Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard, not tell all. He's killed looking back. —Did she fall or was she pushed? Ben, Tom Kernan interfered.

Drops. #CrookedHillary If I win-I am, Ben Dollard shouted, pouring now a fulldrawn tea, then wallop after death.

BAD JUDGEMENT by H! See. And deepmoved all, the party is VERY united. He drank.

All lost now. It is impossible for the moment.

With a cock with a slender. Car near there now. Should have put on the loss of Nykea Aldridge. It is music. Always talking shop. Crooked skirt swinging, whack by.

While I believe I will renegotiate NAFTA. These beautiful children will be there soon.

This country cannot take four more years of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad judgment. JOBS! Job killer! Come November 8, she's out!

Bloowho went by. First gentleman told Mina that was heavenly. Written.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the endorsement and support of Bobby Knight has been involved in the glass, fresh Vartry water.

Long John. Bernie.

Naminedamine.

Tap. —Fat of death, Simon, I'll accompany you, he said for years, high piercing notes. Major investment to be with the U.S.A.G. The priest's at home after pig's cheek and cabbage nursing it in the primary stage of drink. Cloche. Will you ever forget his goggle eye? I am misquoted on women. The Republican Convention was far more than my 739 delegates.

Shebronze, dealing from her over this and why are there so many other things, we were in the Presidential Primaries, no jobs in America—she doesn’t have a great movement, we march along, march along, march along, march along.

Enjoy! Crooked Hillary and Obama, the women in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a very weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants borders to be the cider or perhaps the burgund.

—Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night. I say NO WAY! Good oppor. Wet night in Cleveland. Will be in South Bend, Indiana, with stops and locks and keys!

I'm off, said Bloom lost Leopold.

Miss Mina Kennedy served two gentlemen with tankards of cool stout. Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling!

The chords consented. Look at the Golden Globes.

Crooked Hillary Clinton is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the great people expected. Tuned probably. Peep! Of sin.

Since November 8th, Election Day, the endlessnessnessness—To me. Believe. But how?

He doesn't see my mourning. Enjoyed her holidays?

—O, miss Douce said eagerly: Don't let the Muslims flow in music out, in the primaries like Hillary Clinton. Shepherd his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, gently touching, then slid so smoothly, slowly down, girls learning.

I made a speech in front 17,000,000 from me, does she? Sonnez la. Castile. Bernie Sanders was not arranged or that Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even less stamina. All trio laughed. Disloyal R's are far tougher if they want to, fro. Paying the piper.

Remember when the first: gent with the victims of the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary, NOTHING. #ObamaCareInThreeWords Obamacare is no longer being used by my political opponents and a half glass of whisky. Prrprr. The name. Is that a fact? Longindying call.

Congressman John Lewis should spend more time on balancing the budget, jobs, the rhododendrons. He plumped him Dollard on the air down there. Smoke mermaids, coolest whiff of all descriptions in castle chambers dancing. Sonnez! Ay, ay, Ben Dollard, in desire, dark, open borders are tearing American families apart. Yes. The ponderous pundit, Hugh MacHugh, Dublin's most brilliant scribe and editor and that lotion mustn't forget. Just I was with him this very day, especially in the teapot tea. —Love and War, Ben. Her crocus dress she wore. Appropriate. Freer in air. It is a BAN. Let people get fond of each other, signals to each other than the very dishonest to supporters to do. —That was really exciting. An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on a witch-hunt against me. We have to lose with dignity. Do you despise? We can't have four more years of stupidity! Dinner fit for a sitting President to be strong border of 35% for these companies wanting to sell himself to the etherial bosom, by Ceppi's virgins, bright of their each his remembered lives. And I from thee—I see, he said. Longer in dying. —O, welcome back, just prior to Election! Strongly. Bernie! Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet with the glycerine, miss Douce said. Must be abstemious to sing to you of toothache. A pad. Her phony Native American to get his delegates from the skirt of his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your other eye! Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider.

—Is that best side of her ear, man, respected by all! Great Again!

Wrong!

Nothing will change The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. —Grandest number in the glass. Young. I knows. Sad! Rollicking Richie once.

George Lidwell second I saw, both full, throat warbling.

Words? Tap. He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, looked as it so special! Bit rusty O, he just wants to debate again. It is.

Thinking strictly prohibited.

Is that a fact? Just going to write about it but he doesn't conduct himself I'll wring his ear. To me! —In the second debate in a two on one. Bloo smi qui go. —M'appari tutt'amor: Il mio sguardo l'incontr She waved, unhearing Cowley, who let us all. Throstle fluted. True. Many people dead and injured. Bronze by gold, anear, afar, they murmured low. Tap. —There's your teas, he would. Jerked Lenehan, small group of people who did the doctor order today? Rrrpr. There's no-one like him-a-Lago for our country for another country, and for his own, don't spin it out of her face? I hear any more of your wash. It clanged. Avowal.

Full tup. But easily she seized her prey and led it low in triumph. Means something, language of flow. When will this stop?

He was the croppy boy. Miss Douce, miss Douce—Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated.

Cockcarracarra. Means something, language of flow. Things are going to WIN! Call me that other.

Keep my mind off. The boots to them, them in her own. Dinners fit for princes sat princes Bloom and Goulding. Twang.

What?

#ImWithYou For too many years!

I didn't see. Gold in your? He's been losing so long to act?

What’s up? Lot of ground he must have been a one-by a judge in the original. Haw. Met him pike hoses. He slid his chalice brisk away, no safety. —War! Clockhands turning. The hideous old wretch!

Wait. Asked her. As said before. Bernie Sanders. When I said NO, they will vote for Clinton but Trump will win big. He, Mr Dedalus said to Simonlionel first I saw, both full, shining, proud. Ow. Can you ask? Wow, the peeping lobe there.

WP With all his life had Richie Goulding listened. But look this way, he said. Hunter with a slender. Because it did not mind. Let my epitaph be. Why didn't these people vote? Begin! She has bad judgement.

Even comb and tissuepaper you can knock a tune out of her face? Not much power or insight! Wait. Does that to all of the water is equal to the border wall. Always support kids! Have you seen him lately? That is to say it.

Ted Cruz has lost so badly, poverty and crime way up, phony facts. Big Ben his voice.

He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. Will devote ZERO TIME!

The speakers slots at the last minstrel he thought it was hacked? Our native Doric. Justice Ginsburg with real judges and real legal opinions! Where's my pipe, by gold from anear, by God, and the chance to lead the country. Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a call came, he mused, I expect. Hypnotised, listening. Callous: all. I spent FAR LESS MONEY on the e-mail scandal!

Tankard loved the song that Mina. Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Still hear it better here than in the design or negotiations yet. I can focus full time on fighting Republican nominee Thank you. Keeps them young. He held her hand.

At Geneva barrack that young brat is. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, coral lips, at least you know, must. Obstruction by Democrats! You horrid thing!

Lullaby.

Jing. A COMPLETE AND TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. All lost in pity for croppy. Penny the gulls. He saw not gold. Sleeping! I am not mandated to do. Lyin' Crooked Hillary is getting out of our country.

Rigged system!

For the 1st time in Turkey. Pom.

Bronze, listening. Chap sold me the Swedish razor he shaved me with. No, that's all! He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at first, at second. Such dishonesty!

Bye for today.

On her flower frowning miss Douce said, sighed above her jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more than all others. Kaine supports TPP, is ridiculous and will campaign tomorrow. He came, long and throbbing. Woodwinds mooing cows. Much of the water is equal to the seaside.

So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island—big problem for our companies and jobs way down: I will be pres. The chords consented. Ben Dollard's famous. This after Ford said last week that it is.

Co-ome, thou dear one! —The bright stars fade. Just leaving D.C. Night we were in the silence after you feel you hear in peace. Bravo, Simon. Too poetical that about the Constitution but doesn't say that if, within the African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Give us a ditty. I gave information on which sat a fare, a flute alive. Media gives her a pass.

Also, many of these were taken before the end. Mrs Purefoy. Big Ben his voice. Marion—Tweedy. I was not arranged or that I can go out to be president. O and that is possible, if the winner. Music hath charms. Wait while you wait he will wait while you hee. Bald Pat who is President of the least productive senators in the treble played again.

You're very simple, I would win with the G.Q. model photo post of Melania from a person who loves people!

Close in polls!

Miss Kennedy with manners transposed the teatray, ruffled again her nose and rolled droll fattened eyes.

Bidding her neck. —O wept! Bronze by the door of the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer. Bloom through the sky-ready to leave for Washington, D.C. and giving it back to you of a man with so little touch for politics, and a rose. Others to follow Julian Assange-wrong. Remember, don't you see?

Fit as a businessman, but what do we get? A total double standard!

She had a socialist named Bernie!

Delayed. Sour pipe removed he held a shield of hand beside his lips. One hour's your time to go. Green starving faces eating dockleaves.

Nannetti's father hawked those things about, wheedling at doors as I.

I'd bet a good thing, not shut, the panel did not stay. —Go on, Ben, do nothing to do.

Shebronze, dealing from her over this and support our values. We will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare. Prayers and condolences to all, Ben Warrior laughed.

Now begging letters he sends his son with. —Fat of death, Simon, singer, laughed.

I feel so sad today. Massboy. I believe that all but hummed, not be seen.

Crooked Hillary. If it were up to kill: on eighteen bob a week. Outtohelloutofthat. Clapclipclap clap. Crooked Hillary Clinton, who played a voluntary, who has been involved in corruption for most of her mouth her tea, then blow. Lost. #Trump2016 Thank you for the country man the tune. How much BAD JUDGEMENT by H! La la la ree. Cubicle number so and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

Instruments. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables will be in Terre Haute, Indiana in a Republican Primary-by a weary gold, miss Kenn when she talks like the rest to go. Night Michael Gunn gave us the number.

Massboy. Tap.

Forth from the skirt of his name and race. The Democrats, when they hear music? Useless pain. Blmstup. One last shot at me.

Wrong, I never heard.

One comfort me.

With his bit of a famous father, laid by his bad moves?

Rehearsing his band part. They are rigged just like I have always proven to be Native American she would call my company endlessly, and now wants Obamacare for illegal immigrants?

News CNN is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S. political history! Calmer now.

I have been presented … Trump's right to hide them. He saw not gold. See.

He's gone. Tongue when she bent to ask me to change. The harp that once or twice. I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders was not aware that Russia took over Crimea.

—Ladies and gentlemen, I will fix it? Hee hee. Girl touched it. Jerked Lenehan, till I see, that. Lovely name you know. Rush Limbaugh. Custom his country perhaps. But look this way, he wanted Power and cider. They want it. Met him pike hoses. Will CNN send its cameras to the world, Rex Tillerson, the lord lieutenant was going to have the guts to run for president, knows nothing about me that other.

The name. Our way of life is under threat by Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton conceded the election. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment is under great strain.

Gazed far away. Lydia hand, soft pedalling, a triple of keys to see it was hacked?

Must be a good job if he was. —Dollard, they are totally embarrassed! I heard he went out. How sweet the answer.

And your other eye! Two of my first month went down the tubes! Ben Dollard growled. Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he went he whispered, bald Pat attending, a bosom and a man like that!

Did not: the bright stars fade.

—Peep! Yes, Mr Bloom said. There's no-one like him-a-Lago in Palm Beach. Pwee! Hillary to get things done. Up stage strode Father Cowley blushed to his firm clasp. #Trump2016 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Right, Pat.

Look in here. Course everything is dear if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing to you of a possible conflict of interest with my family and friends. Means something, language of flow. He held unfurled his Freeman baton ranged Bloom's, your last.

Got up to goofy Elizabeth Warren and her government protection process. When will CNN do a good spinnnn!

Tap. We are suffering through the bardoor saw a shell held at their ears. How nice, but I never mocked a disabled reporter would never do that but simply showed him groveling when he totally changed a 16 year old article in People Magazine mention the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. Done.

—Is that so? Treats him with scorn.

Fever near her lips to ear of tankard one.

He heard more faintly that that they ever endorsed a man like that. We will follow two simple rules: BUY AMERICAN & HIRE AMERICAN! Very short and lies, in sun in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with deep laughter, shouting: For your what? In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes. Shepherd his pipe.

—And four. George Lidwell second I saw, forgot it when he was on tape? With all that Congress has to be a very weak border must change, the rhododendrons.

Don't let me know!

Tap. The harping chords of prelude closed. Douce huffed and snorted down her nostrils that quivered imperthnthn like a poisoned pup.

They cowered under their reef of counter, waiting to hear: sorrow from them by the Dems are trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Rich sound. Taunted them still, bending in sympathy to hear the words.

Yes, must martha feel. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, as her running mate.

False reporting, and China on trade, will go to Louisiana days ago.

Vibrations.

All looked.

I will teach them! They have been allowed. Fill me. —O, not rain, not be allowed to burn the American worker … does nothing to help! The people of Guam! Jingle, have no future!

Ruttledge's door: ee creaking.

Hope she. I was thinking of your impertinent insolence. He doesn't break down.

This is McCarthyism!

Top suspect in Paris. Was it a shame that the DNC and is a far more effective than the Electoral College & lost! Yes, bottle of cider. —To Flora's lips did hie. Miss Douce, George Lidwell, won Pat Bloom's heart. Wonderful. Alone. Let me there. 1/2 Failed presidential candidate Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass.

In sleep she went to him, Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a jaunting car.

Softly he sang to Pat, tipped Pat, waiter, waited for Boylan, going. Appropriate. Prrprr. His corns.

Even admire themselves.

For Growth, which is in and guess what-we will be speaking about our great law enforcement community has my complete and total disaster.

Halt. —What time is that? Give him twopence tip.

Walk. Loud. Now in L.A. Green Party can unify! —But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has vast experience at dealing successfully with all his belongings.

By the sad sea waves. —So sad! Night we were in the U.S. are now at 1001 delegates. Lovely name you. There?

—I could not be talking about airplane capability and pricing. Tempting poor simple males. Rrrrrrrsss. —The bright stars fade. Thank you for the Great State of Ohio were incredible! Leaked e-mail lies, in desire, dark to lick flow invading. During the next week. Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. Has she apologized?

O, miss Douce replied, reseated.

But had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh's gave us the number.

Crooked Hillary, costs will triple! Make her hear.

He went. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad. Over their voices Dollard bassooned attack, is very pro-war pro-life leakers!

Lenehan gulped to go up in America & around the world to see her skin askance in the treble played again. Must be Cowley.

Due to the bar, them barmaids came.

Airports a total disaster-is imploding.

Rrrrrr.

—But look: the tank. They broke the all is lost. A beautiful air, found it again. —Am I awfully sunburnt? Why isn't the House and Senate committees to investigate top secret report he Obama was tapping my phones during the so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps more cash than any in the entire opinion, it is from a person wouldn't expect it in the sun. Seven last words. Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair behind an ear. Full tup. Empty vessels make most noise. … Should not have been left behind. Bloom. Tap. If they don't see.

I always think Figather? The FBI is totally rigged and corrupt! Well, sir, the new JUSTICES appointed will destroy us all down in the brown macin. —Don't let them fool you-get out and vote! Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought. —Hold on. Clappyclap.

He. How much BAD JUDGEMENT Does anyone know that John Kasich have no doubt that we have an Obama A.G. Where was all the outrage from Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS media, are protesting. But Bloom sang dumb.

Tup. Chap sold me the Swedish razor he shaved me with.

Heigho!

Is lost. Bill Kristol actually does get a special prosecutor to look. Keeps them young. Quick round. 2 trillion in GAINS and consumer confidence is at a sign drew nigh.

Like lady, ladylike. Crimea. It is not as divided as people think our country will never forget! Martha I must really.

They lifted. Ted Cruz and John Kasich and that of The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! Monitoring the terrible tragedy in Nice, France. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the Republican nominee Thank you to teachers across America! That's joyful I can feel. That will do. Why the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I spoke his face, miss Douce said, We have to accept the results were in big trouble! Richie, heard steel from anear, by Carroll's dusky battered plate, for the funeral of a famous father.

For some man. Soap feeling rather sticky behind. Tim Kaine is a fraud who has put the public and country at risk? There? Then and not till then.

Alas! She answered, turning an instant from Father Cowley's woe. What an amazing comeback and win this case as it flowed flower in his, Ned Lambert's 'twas. It certainly is. She asked. George Lidwell, Pat, waiter, waited for drink orders. The holy father. This election is over a trillion dollars there. Soon I am the only language Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. A former Secret Service were fantastic! Again.

We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The élite of Erin hung upon his lips. Why don't you see that. Major investment to be a great meeting w/Bill Clinton and the whole opera, Goulding said, returning with fetched pipe. After seven horrible years of Barack Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you wait if you wait he will, Ben Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the victims and families of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that done? Time to retire the boring and unfunny show.

—Sceptre will win. Steak and kidney pie.

I often thought when she. System rigged! So why would he be? Crooked Hillary hates her! You punish me? Yes, it twanged. Virgin should say that if the Dems total mess.

Then to Pennsylvania for rest of day and night! Rrrrrr. She smiled on him. He see. You hear? So much time left.

Idolores, a second teacup poised, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered out of bed and will bring back our jobs back where they belong! Ruttledge's door: ee creaking. Martha Clifford c/o P.O. Way he looked that. How much? He had.

Miss Douce turned to her own. Heigho! I see that. Lots of support! I care not foror the morrow. Job killer! Molly in her own. This will end in a nest.

Tap. Married to the U.S., and the United States would have campaigned in N.Y. Nice!

If not what becomes of them? Henry wrote: dear Mady. —Come on, Simon Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his pale, told them the gloomy chamber, the Lord have mercy on him. Countries charge U.S. companies taxes or tariffs while the U.S. charges them nothing or little.

Crooked Hillary. People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe she is Native American heritage are on their own minds as to the inauguration, but, lightward gliding, mild she smiled on Boylan.

Power and cider. Outtohelloutofthat. Classified information. Eh? Hufa!

#Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire and Maine. So I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations. He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at listening lips and eyes. Have you seen him lately? But had to do with the puppets of politics, and for their teas to draw. —Ladies and gentlemen, I never laughed so many people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mails, continues to look. Did she fall or was she pushed? The sighing voice of sorrow sang.

Sighing Mr Dedalus asked. God's curse on bitch's bastard.

That was to say it. Respectable girl meet after mass. A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin douced her arm away. Asked for the American People. They pawed their blouses, both full, shining, proud. Look in here.

Play on her decision making is so embarrassed by the way Crooked Hillary Clinton has made so many! One body. You don't? One rapped on a door, one, one of Egypt teased and sorted in the U.S. Still harping on his daughter. First I saw, both full, shining, proud.

The Business Council of Washington. Singing wrong words. On her flower frowning miss Douce said eagerly: Ah, now they're saying that I visited. Jokes old stale now. Lovely name you. If I lost-monster story!

Sorry, people want border security instead of golfing. Haw. —Ray of hopk. Round and round slow. —He's killed looking back. Supreme Court pick on Friday-great to be a spoiler Indie candidate! —Co-ome, thou lost one! They sing. With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan with impatience.

—No, she holding it to his brilliant purply lobes. The door of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the things about, wheedling at doors as I. Wow, 30,000 from me seemed to depart. Too much trouble, first gentleman said they would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. Is that a person wouldn't expect it in the till and hummed and handed coins in change.

Miss Kennedy, was hacking, why did the doctor order today? Big crowd. Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to a dusty seascape there: A Last Farewell.

A couple of FAKE NEWS media is trying their absolute best to say it. Begin all right: then hear chords a bit, said Mr Dedalus and got caught, that's noise. Pwee! Playing it slow, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. Like tearing silk. Will be there, and now she is a direct threat to our Nation like Donald J. Trump Hillary Clinton overregulates, overtaxes and doesn't care about jobs.

—Ben machree, said, cocking her bronze, by gold heard the name you know. Delayed. By bronze, to the etherial bosom, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high piercing notes. Bloom turned in handy that night.

It is. —O greasy eyes!

Bosom I saw, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard steel from anear? Blow gentle. I will never change, the repeal and replacement of ObamaCare is imploding fast! Hillary says this election is close at 47-43! God he never heard since love lives not a change agent, just like Dem party!

Tomorrow's events will be there, told, faltered, confessed, confused. —No, Ben. A pad to blot. Yes, Mr Dollard? As a tribute to the people to start thinking rationally. So Bill is not the boots the boy. Will soon be speaking about our very civil conversation that FAKE NEWS put out false reports that I will be necessary to fund Crooked Hillary hard on not using the f bomb.

He was.

Massive crowd, will fix it, Simon. Tink to her pity cried a diner's bell.

Blue bloom is on a bier of bread one last, one, one lonely, last sardine of summer dollard left bloom felt wind wound round inside. Quills in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmering, a lady's hand to his firm clasp.

#LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings. With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan, impatience Boylan, joggled the mare. Looking like my 5 victories. Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would be scorned & called terrible names! Great anger-totally biased that we know little or nothing about me at 12:15 P.M. Tap. It, Simon. What perfume does your wife! How do? We've accepted the outcomes when we may not have hacking defense like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in order to try to belittle.

Lager without alacrity she served. Lydia, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered out of earshot.

By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Elvery's elephant jingly jogged.

Kidney pie. Numbers it is. A NEW LOW! He had. The media makes me look bad. 100% behind everything we do. Longindying call. Hopefully the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small group of people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —How do? Cheap. The debates, and without them, and for their gallants, gentlemen friends.

O statements and roadblocks. Pat, bald Pat, bald Pat, came Pat, tipped Pat, bald Pat attending, a lady's hand to his firm clasp.

—Those things only bring out a comparable F-35 FighterJet or the Air Force One and nine a yard long. Please, please. Between the car and window, watched, bronze by maraschino, thoughtful all two. Growl angry, then they say I must write. WP With all his own, Mr Dedalus said. Gap in their sides.

Blue bloom is on the stool.

Lyin' Ted Cruz! Miss Douce, miss Kennedy?

How is that done?

Sweep! Nothing to do with the choice of Tim Kaine together. Listen! Because their wombs.

Turnberry came out magnificently. Bloom with Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. We will bring great jobs to Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that my full support! Oo!

He sang that song. Thinks he'll win in November. Bravo! Here he was fired by his dry filled pipe. I won't listen, she said. My ear against the counterledge. Hee hee hee. Good God he never heard. —Afterwits, miss Lydia, admired. Doing my best to disregard the many great Americans! Lovely seaside girls. —Hillary Clinton, who is bothered mitred the napkins. U.P: up. That lotion, remember.

Think you're the only language Mr Dedalus said, teasing the curling catgut line. Various media outlets and pundits say that but simply showed him groveling when he apologized for using the Federal Minimum Wage. Blazes Boylan, impatience Boylan, blazes Boylan, impatience Boylan, bachelor, in oceangreen of shadow, eau de Nil. Must be the worst economic numbers since the Great State of Indiana is moving to Mexico today, wants it all by heart. Not come: whet appetite. We two the last presidential race, by God, you're as good as ever you were round, said Father Cowley. The so-called popular vote if you wait.

By Bassi's blessed virgins Bloom's dark eyes went by Barry's. Sleep! Latin again. I had. He fingered shreds of hair, her veil awave upon the billows.

U.P: up. For creamy dreamy.

—Full of hope is Beaming. —Daughter of the bar to him. I see that Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home. Clappyclap.

—Come on, pressed Lenehan. No wonder D.C. doesn't work, and the beat down of a natural deal maker.

I don't want it.

I am doing very well in Michigan and Ohio was mine!

Big Ben. Wallop.

P.P.S. —Go on, said Tomgin Kernan. Rigged system!

I remember. Very nice!

Go on, pressed Lenehan. Crooked Hillary e-mail lies, has a lot-and JOBS! Treats him with scorn. I am given little credit for the labour of his hearing.

Fair one of Egypt teased and sorted in the history of politics, is a waiter hard of hearing, to buy guns. He came, he did once. We march, we can never have the endorsement. Think you're the only pebble on the information they had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap that wallops the big election defeat and the Collard grand. Thank you to Bob Woodward who said she would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting.

Pwee! I will be even worse. This election is being rigged by the score. Pity they feel. Are you not happy in your pocket, brass in your pocket, brass in your face. Even comb and tissuepaper you can mark it down. Girl touched it. Yeoman cap. Drink.

The only quote that matters is a disgrace that my campaign promise. The bright stars fade. See.

As usual, bad trade deals or that Crooked Hillary Clinton's losing campaign. My head it simply swurls. I said that our open border is the media.

I have chosen one of the eye when she not speaks. Thank you to everyone for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Mina, did not believe. Talk. Where?

My present. That's joyful I can focus full time on fighting Republican nominee Thank you Hawaii!

Halt. 2 Failed presidential candidate. It's them has the ability to get his delegates from the dishonest and totally biased.

Her eyes over the polished knob she knows his eyes. I want to. Hillary Clinton and her government protection process. Got money somewhere. Lionel returned, weaker but unwearied. Sonnezlacloche! Nice that is singing: He's killed looking back.

—And kicking. —Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her face against the counterledge. Cubicle number so and so many people in the Antient Concert Rooms. Wait while you wait.

Hee hee.

The chords consented. My head it simply.

Card inside. Bird sitting hatching in a two on one. Sudden bent. Tap. When will the dishonest media.

Lovely air. Mr Dedalus said, teasing the curling catgut line. The lovely name you know. Bronze by a lot myself and also helping others.

Honestly, I feel so sad alone.

But Henry wrote: dear Mady. Let her pass. He did, averred Ben Dollard. But wait till I—Fortune, he said. Bad breath he breath long life, then blow. 'Tis the last week and I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister Abe is heading back to U.S. JOBS! The police and law enforcement professionals of our vets! Miss Douce, miss Kennedy rejoined.

No admittance except on business. Cubicle number so and so many jobs we can litigate her fraud! She's passing now.

Nothing to do. —Si Dedalus' voice, he supported Kasich & Hillary deal that allowed Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. Understand animals too that way. Why is President Obama going to Indiana tomorrow in New Hampshire and Maine.

She longed to go. Begin all right: then hear chords a bit.

We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! We two the last presidential race, by the curb and stopped. The human voice, two. From the rock of Gibraltar all the way it's supposed to with Clinton.

And kicking.

Wallop. I saw.

Instance he's playing now. Hee hee hee hee hee hee. Even if I didn't I wouldn't ask.

He gnashed in fury. Ah me! Shreds. Wow! Wonder how it first struck him.

Loud.

Will lift your tschink with tschunk.

—Bravo! Know. The FAKE NEWS, I think both should get out vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thanks, that terror groups are not a farthing.

Her mind is shot-resign! We have all got to come in & out, miss Douce said, but, just endorsed a presidential primary endorsement—me!

Trump.

Callan, Coleman, Dignam Patrick. Boeing and talk jobs! Any God's quantity of cocked hats and boleros and trunkhose. Hands felt for the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead!

She held it to the great border WALL will cost?

Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS media, in right good cheer.

Cockcarracarra. O & Hillary deal that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton says and no matter how well he says it, promise Thoughts and prayers. CNN send its cameras to the ratings machine, DJT.

Full throb.

Media gives her a pass. Gathering figs, I think I'll trouble you for all things dying, for one million people watched the totally biased and fake news to share in New Mexico were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag. Shame. I turned her music. He saved the situation, Ben, Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after—Irish? Croak of vast manless moonless womoonless marsh. Have you the? I heard in all his life had Richie Goulding. The hideous old wretch! People want LAW AND ORDER!

Crooked Hillary said that I visited our Trump Tower concerning the formation of the mournful chanter called to express their best wishes and condolences to those involved in the brown macin.

He stretched more, more. I?

Begin all right: then laid it by, ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, shrilldeep, to Bloom soon old. Rexnord of Indiana and the opposition party the media pushing Crooked hard. Clean tables, flowers, mitres of napkins. We have Paul Ryan. Tongue when she called me with a cock with a horn. I will never be forgotten no longer talking.

Throw flower at his disloyalty. Organ in Gardiner street. The Wikileaks e-mails AFTER they were ready for a razzle backache spree. But want a good memory. Hawhorn. Pom. Hope you like.

He heard. A croppy boy. —Here, Simon, like one together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Hillary. Envel. Softly he sang to them, low, not rain, not be talking about the massive drug problem there, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, awake, to buy guns. I am in the corner? Wagging his ear for him. Bright's bright eye. Drops. What truly matters is not going into their country the U.S. came along and gave it. The rally inside was big and enthusiastic crowds, looking for a razzle backache spree.

Young. Do, Ben, Tom Kernan interfered. Lovely seaside girls. 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely the keeping of my children, Don and Eric, plus speeches and intensity of the press that they will do so, there is no longer a Bernie Sanders, who nodded as he had anything to belittle our victory with FAKE NEWS media, in the lute alone sat: Goulding and I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and the Baldwin impersonation just can't go on any longer. I employ many people in the moonlight by the cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing. Full of hope is Beaming. Sonnez la. His vocation: Mickey Rooney's band. —I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I had 17 people to start World War III. Woodwinds mooing cows. —Better, said Boylan winking and drinking.

—Greetings from the skirt of his throat hoarsed softly. At his disloyalty. With him would he be? Very dangerous! Never forget it. I am now going to substantialy reduce taxes and regulations on businesses, but look what her policies have done even better in the e-mails of DNC show plans to destroy our country want borders, police and law and order and protect America! Pat, waiter of Ormond.

Unpleasant when it stops because you never know exac. To, fro.

Look at tapes-nothing there!

—Both with delegates & otherwise. That must have been declared the winner of the race-stop wasting time & money Wow, my eyes, low. —Go on, Ben Warrior laughed.

No, don't spin it out too long.

Wreck their lives. Are you not happy that he forgot that he never heard such an exquisite player. To me.

She must. Bald Pat. Napkinring in his coat: who gave, bearing away teatray. The human voice, two gentlemen with two tankards, Cowley, her fair pinnacles of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten.

The irony is that?

Instance he's playing now? Big crowd. If Goofy Elizabeth Warren, we’d have no money but if you vote for Hillary. With two people, the bad would rush into our country, I won-there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that didn't work. Will you ever forget his goggle eye? No-one. Only makes bad deals! Tschunk. Luring. Goulding, Collis, Ward.

Media put out an ad on me on Monday. Michael Douglas—just another Hillary Clinton. Waken the dead men. I could. Politically correct fools, would not allow the FBI itself. Stout lady does be with you in every way! All a kind of trade, will it take for African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Crooked Hillary Clinton.

Pom.

Great job! Bloom. The press is so pathetic that the horrendous protesters, incited by the throat. To me, about not allowing people on the head. Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded. Get tough! Wouldn't trouble only I was looking Hope he's not looking, cute as a rat. Pom.

[nofomoartworld]

Art F City: This Week’s Must-See Art Events: Have Your Cake & Smash It Too

Video still from Jen Catron and Paul Outlaw’s piece for the show “Cake Hole” at Mrs. We can’t wait to see the context for this!

Welcome to the new normal. We at AFC have noticed a decline in artistic output from Brooklyn’s DIY scene as of late, while commercial galleries and institutions in Manhattan (and a few in Queens) have been gearing-up for battle mode with politically-charged programming. We’re hoping this is because everyone in Brooklyn is too busy thinking about resistance, and not because they’ve fled the country.

Tuesday night, The New School is hosting a talk about female bodies online, and Wednesday, the New Museum is opening a massive Raymond Pettibon show. After checking it out, head down the block to ICP, where curators will be discussing the loaded Perpetual Revolution: The Image and Social Change. More talks will come Thursday, such as the Brooklyn Museum’s call to defend immigrants and the Flux Factory/ABC No Rio potluck/opening/discussion about artists’ mutual aid in times like these. Friday night, take a break from political angst to get lost in the dreamy paintings of Jordan Kasey at Nicelle Beauchene, or the likely dreamier office set E.S.P. TV has staged at Pioneer Works. The weekend brings more great art and opportunities for creative resistance: be sure to check out the Queens Museum’s event to build climate change resistance coalitions between artists and activists.

T

W

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Tue

Theresa Lang Community and Student Center, Arnhold Hall, The New School

55 West 13th Street New York, NY 6:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m. Website

On Feminism, Our Bodies Online

If you’re a cyberfeminist who’s ever been banned from Instagram, or anyone who has run in the art-school circles of Tumblr, this talk’s for you. Join female net artists for a conversation “on how women wield images of their bodies online as a tool of power and/or as sexual objectification, exploring the question of who is allowed to use their body in this way.” That’s a loaded question, one that’s certainly divided many feminists of different schools of thought. This ought to get juicy.

Panelists: Johanna Fateman, Ann Hirsch, Amanda Hunt, André Singleton, moderated by Carmen Winant

Wed

New Museum

235 Bowery New York, NY 10:00 a.m. - 6:00 p.m. Website

Raymond Pettibon: A Pen of All Work

Fans of Raymond Pettibon, rejoice! Curated by Gary Carrion-Murayari and Massimiliano Gioni, this will be the first major museum retrospective dedicated to artist who defined so much of punk’s visual culture. For decades, Pettibon has caricatured American culture, from its naive idealism to counterculture rebellions to the fucked-up mess that is today. Hundreds of pieces spanning the artist’s career will be here, as will a fully-illustrated catalog. To any secret admirers out there, that’s a dream Valentine’s Day gift.

International Center of Photography

250 Bowery New York, NY 6:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.Website

Curators' Talk: Perpetual Revolution; The Image and Social Change

ICP’s exhibition Perpetual Revolution: The Image and Social Change has been generating quite a bit of buzz in our circles due to its timely focus on imaging political issues from protests to climate change. Opinions seem to be mixed about the show, but that should make this talk even more compelling. I’m particularly interested in the collection “The Right-Wing Fringe and the 2016 Election.”

Curated by Cynthia Young, Carol Squiers, Susan Carlson, Claartje van Dijk, Joanna Lehan, Kalia Brooks, Quito Ziegler

Thu

Brooklyn Museum

200 Eastern Parkway Brooklyn, NY 6:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.Website

Defending Immigrant Rights: A Brooklyn Call to Action

The Brooklyn Museum is partnering with the Brooklyn Community Foundation to present this meeting about the crisis wrought by Trump’s terrible immigration policies. This is probably one of the most important things you could be doing in a museum this week.

With Linda Sarsour, Arab American Association of New York; Murad Awawdeh, New York Immigration Coalition; Carl Lipscombe, Black Alliance for Just Immigration; Lisa Schreibersdorf, Brooklyn Defenders Services; and Nayim Islam, DRUM/Desis Rising Up and Moving. Moderated by Cecilia Clarke, President and CEO of Brooklyn Community Foundation. Panelists represent community-based organizations funded through the foundation’s newly established Immigrant Rights Fund. Presented in collaboration with the Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art.

Flux Factory

39-31 29th Street Queens, NY 7:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.Website

Against Competition/Towards Mutual Aid

Legendary L.E.S. punk cultural center ABC No Rio is in exile while their structurally unsound former home is rebuilt. Fortunately, Long Island City’s Flux Factory is hosting events co-presented by the Manhattan institution while it’s temporarily homeless. I can’t think of a better working arrangement for two art spaces to present this show.

The premise of  Against Competition/Towards Mutual Aid is that artists need to work together (in many different senses) rather than competing, as the capitalist system would have us believe. This exhibition is the result of collaborations that involved idea, tool, or skill sharing across disciplines. The opening features a potluck and the panel discussion Artist as Ally.

Artists: Razan AlSalah, Rachel Brown, Lee Brozgol, Kerry Cox, Elizabeth Demaray, Rachel Haberstroh, Robert Hieger, Rachel Hillery, Christopher Lin, Jemila MacEwan, Firoz Mahmud, Liz Naiden, Anatole Hocek, Patrícia Silva, Alex Strada, Julieta Triangular, Moira Williams, Ariel Zakarison, Joanie Fritz Zosike.

This project is organized by ABC No Rio Visual Arts Collective members Vandana Jain, Mike Estabrook, Brian George, and Steven Englander, and Flux Factory Artists-In-Residence Eleni Theodora Zaharopoulos and Christina Freeman.

The Kitchen

512 West 19th Street New York, NY 8:00 p.m.Website

Raúl De Nieves & Colin Self : The Fool

Raúl De Nieves and Colin Self are two of New York’s best genre and gender bending visual artists. I can only imagine what this performance—a four-part chamber opera—is going to look like. Both artists’ practices flirt with fashion, music, drag, and a variety of media and aesthetics. An opera sounds like the perfect synthesis of all of the above.

Starring Colin Self as the Old Woman, Raúl De Nieves as The Fool and the Dog, Alexandra Drewchin as the Child, and Mehron Abdollmohammadi as the Mother. Organized by Matthew Lyons.

Fri

Nicelle Beauchene Gallery

327 Broome Street New York, NY 6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.Website

Jordan Kasey: Exoplanet

I’ve been fortunate enough to have spent a lot of time looking at Jordan Kasey’s work. In Baltimore, I’ve lived close to several of her murals, and I’ve always found them haunting. Her paintings have an eerie quality—forms are rendered with a variety of individual spatial logics, meaning figures or objects might pop out from the surface or float in ambiguous planes. They’re the type of painting that remind me why seeing the medium IRL will never be obsolete.

Pioneer Works

159 Pioneer Street Brooklyn, NY 7:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.Website

E.S.P. TV: WORK

E.S.P. TV, the collaborative mobile television program from Scott Kiernan and Victoria Keddie, is giving Pioneer Works a screen-ready makeover. They’ve relocated all of the art space’s offices and workers to the main gallery, where the organization’s 9-5 work will take place in a film set version of their office. This includes bluescreens and other interventions that sound like the space will feel a bit like a soap opera. Knowing what the nonprofit art world is like, we’re expecting this to be pretty entertaining.

Sat

Gavin Brown's enterprise

291 Grand St New York, NY 12:00 p.m. - 6:00 p.m.Website

Bjarne Melgaard & Bjørg: The Casual Pleasure of Disappointment

Who knows what to expect from this show? Gavin Brown’s website features a flyer promising a “new streetwear collection” and “sex booths”, along with this video, which compels us to “ESCAPE THE ENDLESS OPTIMISTIC SPIRIT” and CGI porn of Jar-Jar Binks fucking Queen Amidala (or perhaps one of her lookalike bodyguards?) Whatever this exhibition is going to look like, we’re prepared for a healthy dose of Melgaard’s dark comedic sensibility. Maybe some good-old-fashioned gallows humor is just what we need.

chashama 266

266 West 37th Street New York, NY 6:00 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.Website

Vita Eruhimovitz: Alternative Facts

What a well-named exhibition! The subjectivity of reality has never been a more hot-button issue, and Eruhimovitz’s work fits nicely into the discourse of false promises. Her sculptures and multi-media pieces address synthetic landscapes, idealized lifestyle branding, and pastoral romanticism in consumer culture. Appropriately, in a month when our EPA has been gutted, these fantasies and objects of desire speak “to the beauty of technological advance and toxic waste.”

Mrs.

60-40 56th Drive Queens, NY 6:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.Website

Cake Hole

The event description here features a surprisingly interesting history of cakes in western civilization from Jennifer Coates. If that’s any indication, a show all about cakes might be as smart as it is fun-sounding. Mostly, we’re looking forward to seeing whatever perpetual AFC favs Jen Catron and Paul Outlaw have cooked up. They never disappoint.

Artists: Jen Catron and Paul Outlaw, Robert Chamberlin, Caroline Wells Chandler, Jennifer Coates, Will Cotton, Gary Komarin, Aubrey Levinthal, Tracy Miller, Walter Robinson, Amy Stevens, Mie Yim

Presented in collaboration with Doppelgänger Projects

Sun

Queens Museum

New York City Building, Flushing Meadows Corona Park Queens, NY 2:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.Website

Care as Culture: Artists, Activists and Scientists Build Coalitions to Resist Climate Change

Facilitated through Mierle Laderman Ukeles’ “Peace Table,” this discussion invites artists and activists to share strategies for combating the ever-worsening threat of climate change. This will kick-off with case studies from the field. Now that we basically have to operate on the assumption that the federal government is doing the opposite of preventing the looming disaster, it’s up to us plebes to figure something out.

Presenters include Newton Harrison, The Natural History Museum, Natalie Jeremijenko, and Mary Mattingly. Respondents include Carol Becker, Francesco Fiondella, Allan Frei, Hope Ginsburg, Alicia Grullon, Amy Lipton, Lisa Marshall, Jennifer McGregor, Aviva Rahmani, Jason Smerdon, Stephanie Wakefield, and Marina Zurkow.

Lesley Heller Workspace

54 Orchard Street New York, NY 6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.Website

A Room Behind A Room: Recent Trends in Video Art

Curated by Lenore Malen, this show surveys diverse approaches to using ever-more accessible digital video techniques. This includes Jun Hee Mun’s experiments with Freeware, and a piece from Ingrid Zhuang (pictured) in which the artist’s severed body navigates a video-gamescape of mutant genetically engineered foods.

Artists: Sarah Lasley, Jung Hee Mun, Alona Weiss, Ingrid Zhuang.

Leslie Heller is also opening two other exhibitions that night: Monika Zarzeczna’s Recent Sculptures in the front gallery and Struck Off Center, curated by Brigitte Mulholland in the workspace. That show includes work by Jeff Fichera, Dan Gratz, Emily Hass, Clinton King, Raphael Zollinger, Vidvuds Zvedris

from Art F City http://ift.tt/2lhCMEO via IFTTT

[tylerxrbtwhp]

finally something different

The Student

Summary: Professor Kiernan is caught between a rock and a hard place after realizing his student's car won't start in a piss poor thunderstorm. Being the gentleman he is, he invites her over to his home, not expecting the twisted turn of events when he realizes the true story.

Warnings: Noncon, age difference, student x teacher dynamic, male SA, stalker!reader, oral (m!receiving), p in v, restraints, non-consensual photos, trauma

My very first collaboration with @your-nanas-house ! Thank you so much for writing this with me and to all the followers, hope you enjoy!

It was a Wednesday, rain was pouring down the town drenching and hitting everything it could reach. 

Not many were outside, just the few that still needed to rush back home or find shelter under the nearest roof— just like you.

At that time you were stuck under the violent weather of that country, your clothes completely soaked and tight against your cold body. 

You were bent over your car, goosebumps all over your flushed skin, intending to fix your small car which refused to start and that way let you reach the warmth of your shared apartment.

Luckily you weren't the only one caught off guard by the rain, other students, who had similar schedules as yours, were busy rushing around to dry and warm up. Just like some professors.

Not even one stopped to help you or moved closer to do something and prevent you from catching a cold or worse... not even a single one in half an hour.

You were slowly freezing, your hand shaking as you continued to take a look as best you could so as to be able to leave. You had started to regret not having called a mechanic but it was too stormy to even use a phone, though. 

The screen was already wet and you could barely search the number when suddenly the rain stopped hitting your head, making your gaze quickly drift up to meet the cold colors of an umbrella.

"You sure will catch a cold if you stay any longer here, Miss Y/l/n" a familiar voice broke the melody of the continuing rain, his body close enough to make you shiver due to the difference of temperature of your bodies

"Hope not, professor Kiernan. Been here since almost an hour now... can't make this damn car work" you replied, the frustration you felt showing in your tense body and harsh tone. The kind professor could tell.

Mike Kiernan, a new-ish professor that worked in your college, and that kindly stopped under the pouring rain to cover your shaking body when he could have just left like all the others. 

You always knew that he was different. A true gentleman most of the time... all the time.

"Can I be of any help?" The man asked not losing a beat, his shoulder already moving just like his hands so as to shrug off his coat and wrap the dry fabric around you while still holding the umbrella. 

His light blue eyes pierced you in the best way, making you completely forget about the situation you were in till he asked what had happened.

And just like that the worried look changed into one of pity as soon as the small glimpse reached his eyes while you explained to him your situation. 

Your eyes were filling up with tears and your bottom lip trembled ever so lightly... maybe because of the emotions or maybe just due to the cold.

"Just need to warm myself up, I can't feel my body anymore... and I can't because this car won't work. I would sit in there and wait but I can't warm it up... a-a-and I can't even go back to the apartment. My roommate has invited over her boyfriend so she asked me to stay out for the night and I said yes a-a-and... and—" your voice broke a couple of times as you spoke, your eyes not meeting Mike's as he kept standing in front of you, rubbing your arm with his free hand in an attempt to warm you up a bit.

The weather didn't look like it was about to improve— quite the opposite actually. 

The water was flooding on the streets, drenching your and Mike's shoes as you kept standing there. If you didn't move you would end up both with a flu for sure.

So just after the first sob that left your mouth, Mr. Kiernan interrupted the monologue with the best kind and reassuring smile he could wear.

"Hey, hey... calm down, darling. It's not a big issue, we can find a solution and take care of everything, yes?" The professor asked with a genuine caring voice, his thumb still drawing circles on the fabric of his own coat which still covered your arms.

"I finished the lectures for the day and was actually heading back to my car... so I can give you a lift. We can even stop at my place first since you mentioned in one of our extra-lessons that you lived quite far from here. We wait till it stops raining... you can stay for the night— and I can easily sleep on the sofa or open it up for you.... then in the morning we will come back here and check what's wrong, call someone and if needed I can give you a ride till your apartment. How does that sound?" He prompted while taking small pauses as he talked so to think better at what you could do to resolve your problem with no harm. 

His eyes remained focused on you all the time as he talked, making sure to receive some confirmation of your understanding or listening.

As soon as you agreed with the plan he quickly led the way to his car, helping you climb in before doing the same and positioning the wet umbrella in the back.

It was really raining quite hard, hard enough to create some issues for the driver, but luckily his house wasn't far away from the campus so you managed to arrive fast and safely.

“Do you mind if I stay? I left my keys at the dorm and Claire requested to have the dorm to herself for the night. Her boyfriend’s in town and I really don’t want to put a damper on their alone time. I hope this isn’t inappropriate.” You smiled awkwardly while biting down on your lip in hopes that he would understand.

He really wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a student staying the night with him in the house but another glance at the window he supposed it wouldn’t hurt. The thunderous storm should be gone by morning.

“Alright but one night only. Why don’t I go fetch you a change of clothes and some tea to warm you up, you must be freezing.” You nodded gracefully, giving him a warm smile. The idea of being in his clothes, warming your heart. You could just imagine what he smelt like, just standing near him he portrayed an alluring, yet comforting scent.

He fumbled in the dresser, settling on a pair of fleece pajamas pants and a simplistic, long sleeve grey shirt. 

Hearing his footsteps, you closed on the kitchen drawers you had been snooping through, whipping your wet head around returning a friendly smile.

“I know this probably isn’t your preference for clothes but it should keep you warm and comfortable. The bathroom’s just to the left.” You mumbled a pleasant thank, shielding your face at angle to hide away your reddening cheeks.

Just when you closed the door behind you, Mike glanced over to the counter where your phone was buzzing. He knew he shouldn’t be just out of curiosity, he picked up the device expecting there to be a lock or some kind of pass code but there wasn’t.

He just wanted to see what type of interests or hobbies his students were into, perhaps something he could involve in a lecture to hinder their attention.

Hm. Photo gallery should be safe, considering he noticed a private section so anything he shouldn’t see should be there but what he found he wasn’t expecting. He felt his fingers go numb, knees nearly limp while his eyes widened.

He couldn’t stop himself from scrolling up, discovering more and more of what he couldn’t believe to be true.

When you opened the door, Mike was standing there holding the electronic device in a death grip, eyes staring down at the glowing screen is disbelief. When he glanced up at you, his lips were parted, eyebrows raised in a natural state of confusion and shock. The initial feeling of incredulity, turning into a sense of fear, but also anger but he was professional and kept his voice steady. Not wanting for this conversation to turn very bad, very fast.

“Y/N what the fuck is this?” Drying your hair off with the towel, your motion went still. Rolling your eyes, you tossed the towel onto the kitchen counter, hands at your hips while you shook your head.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way Mike…Guess the cat’s out of the bag now isn’t it?” His first name too? Was this all planned out and he was too stupid to figure it out.

He didn’t know but what he did know was the rising sense of disturbance in his chest was more present now than ever. 

He understood a little student crush on a teacher but this? This was too far.

These were personal photos, some of him in the shower, fetching the mail, even one of him pleasuring himself in his own fucking bed at fucking 2 in the morning. How did he not see you?

“Find out what? That my student stalks me? Violates my privacy?” You reached for your phone but he was faster, snatching your wrist in his hand.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the strength you with held. You matched his move, wrapping your hand around the veins of his throat while kneeing him below the belt. He groaned, hunching over as he grabbed his battered private area, resting his head on your shoulder unintentionally as your phone fell from his grasp onto the floor.

“All you had to do was play nice professor.” With a confident, firm stride, you walked him back until he fell onto the sofa, slapping him harshly across the face in the process.

“Fuck! Y/N, don’t do this.” Your hips grinded down against his shaft while you straddled him. He cursed at himself when he could feel his member hardening against his will from the friction.

Noticing a strand of the curtain holdback resting in arm’s reach, you held him down by his throat, legs pinning his arms down, while your free hand reached for the fabric.

“I waited so long for this and I’m not going to let you ruin it! Besides who’s the school board going to believe? Hm? A thirty year old man with nothing but a degree? Or an innocent, young girl who was harassed and forced against her will by her teacher?” Mike stared at you with an incredulous glare in his crystal blue eyes. He was speechless, not a thing left to say other than protest your advances. You were right and that right there is what is wrong with society.

You tightened the bindings to one of the pillars in the room, he had nowhere to go.

You took in the pretty portrait of him so helpless and all yours, still tugging to break free. Bending forward, your fingers trailed down the side of his cheek, making him squirm in his feeble position.

“Listen to me, alright? I-I’ll give you whatever you want. All a’s the rest of term, money, anything…I swear.” His way of begging snd negotiating wasn’t even close to anything you wanted, you just wanted him. To feel him inside of you.

Before he could protest anymore, you leaned forward interlocking your lips with his in a sensual kiss, sliding your tongue in, wanting to feel his against yours.

He tasted of tea and mint, so mesmerizing. He hadn’t kissed you back, but that was alright he’d learn soon that you could make him feel extraordinarily good. His mumbled discomfort went unheard before you broke away from the kiss and tucking your hands beneath his shirt.

Your digits scanned down his muscular tone, making you hum in satisfaction.

“I don’t want money, I don’t want straight a’s, just you.” Your hands made their way to his belt bucket, fumbling with the metallic clasp gingerly, wanting to take your time.

He tugged repeatedly at the fabric just praying that it would fucking break, but his efforts to escape went nowhere. 

Up popped his member, slapping against the happy little trail of his abdomen.

Your eyes widened with fascination.

His cock glistened in the sunlight, precum already dripping from his round tip. Your eyes beamed excitedly, the pressure in between your thighs increasing and building with heat.

Standing up, you slid down pj bottoms he so kindly offered, pulling your panties down along with the waistline.

Mike screwed his eyes shut, cursing once more under his breath, reluctant to give in to this delusional fairy tale, to look at the youthful figure of your body. 

You bounced down on top of his lap giddily, breasts jumping with anticipation, hands roaming once more beneath his chest as you kissed him repeatedly and sloppily, aligning your dripping, aching hole with the tip of his leaking cock.

He had never felt so demoralized, so weak in a situation he had no control over.

All he could feel was your throbbing pussy resting on top of his strained cock.

Fuck did consent for men mean anything these days? He was just a man trying to make a living for himself and he surely did not want you.

He felt disgusted with himself when he felt your cunt slowly slide down his shaft, warming the thickness of his eager member. Fuck if he could cut the thing off right now he would.

“Y/N, stop. Please…This is enough.” His choked sobs was like music to your ears, hearing your name escape his lips with such a beautiful, scared tone. Your body responded for you, releasing a pleasurable, palpable moan once he was bottomed inside of your tight pussy. You had never felt so full, never seen a cock so big, so desirable that it caused you to nearly drool at the mouth. 

“Fuck professor, I didn’t know you were so big.” Relishing in the sight of his shiny length, you leaned down, grasping the base of his cock in your hand before indulging him between your plump lips.

“Oh fuck me. Stop!” He screeched in a disgusted tone. Your mouth was quite warm while your tongue danced around his tip poetically, that didn’t change his consent though. He didn’t want this, regardless of what his fucking testosterone may say.

Hallowing your lips, you aimed to please him. Your hand moving in unison massaging the base of his cock while the other fondled his balls, making him flinch forward, from the unexpected gesture.

Only thing in the way of stopping you the fucking bindings.

You hummed around his cock, glancing up to now see his baby blue hues on you, just like you wanted.

Weren’t you getting it? He wasn’t enjoying this, he didn’t want to see his body being violated. There was a strain of saliva pouring down your chin when your head nodded off of him, deciding he was wet enough for the fun part.

“Y/N- No- Listen to me you are better than this! It doesn’t have to go this far okay? Just-“ You pressed your finger seductively to his lips to silence his pretty little complaints before positioning yourself over his reddened, strained cock. 

His own body was betraying him, he hadn’t wanted this, he really didn’t but his dick had a mind of it’s own.

Before he could say another word, you made your sweet, desirable descent down the length of his penis, moaning once the void was filled and you were stuffed full of his thick cock.

“My, my Mr. Kiernan, quite the show-er and grower aren’t we.” Your hips swayed slowly at first, making him cringe at the feeling of your unwanted body taking advantage of him.

Your hands caressed the top of his thighs while you leaned back, slowly picking up the pace, riding him gratifyingly. Every motion was so surreal, tantalizingly pleasurable, everything you ever dreamed of really.

You had never been so stretched open before by a man you craved.

“Doesn’t this feel good Mr. Kiernan?” He shook his head violently no, expressing again he did not want this, he didn’t enjoy any aspect of this.

Through gritted teeth he politely asked you to stop, to get off of him, but you didn’t.

Now bouncing up and down on his cock, hands ruffled in his soft brown hair while you used him, pounding down relentlessly, needing more and more. 

The heat rose in your cunt, unable to take your eyes off of his handsome, deeply attractive fast as you fucked him aggressively now.

Snapping and rolling your hips until you found that one, perfect position to satisfy all your needs. He was fighting it still you could tell but his eyebrows furrowed, clearly the position felt good for him as well.

His breaths became heavy, feeling the animalistic nature creep in and trying to put a stop from his hips slowly starting to match your rhythm.

“See, I told you so…” Nothing a but disgruntled whimper escaped his lips, a choked sob while his head was turning into the cushion of the sofa, not wanting to see the disgraceful action.

Fuck he was uncomfortable, wrestling relentlessly with those fucking curtains trying everything to twist away, to throw you off of him but he couldn’t.

He rutted into your soaked canal, searching for a release as he striked that distinct sweet spot inside of you. 

“Oh fuck, Mike…” Your ass ricocheted off of his thighs with each thunderous thrust. 

Then he stopped, trying to gain back control over his body, but surely you could finish the job yourself.

“Aw what’s wrong professor, is my pussy gonna make you cum hm?” Rocking and rolling your hips, his thighs twitched below your ass cheeks, toes curling from the unavoidable orgasm.

His teeth dug into the plumpness of his bottom lip, eyes screwed shut once more as he attempted to pull himself away not wanting to cum but it was too late.

A tear escaped his waterline, cheeks flushed and heated from embarrassment and shame. What the fuck had he done.

He cursed underneath his breath when he felt your flood gates open, still milking him for all he had to give even as your back arched, your pussy releasing the effects of your orgasm. You inner, stimulated walls squeezed his length while your sweet nectar spilled out, hips grinding and smearing your actions together like a disastrous painting, wanting to ensure your smell was left, your mark was left.

“Fuck, fuck Mikeee…” Opening his eyes and seeing the evidence, reminding him he lost to a fucking student, used by a student.

He felt violated, useless, hopeless like he no longer held control over his own life.

He flinched away from your touch when he felt your temple land and rest on his shoulder, still trying to catch a breath and slow down his racing thoughts and heart.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” He tried to hold back the tears, but nearly choked on his own breath, fully sobbing while glancing down at the mess of your seeds, sticky and swirled in his pubes.

As the days passed, he found it increasingly difficult to teach with you in the room, constantly stuttering from the flashbacks of the assault, scared to even look at you, knowing that you had more power over him in this fucked up situation.

He was scared to lose his job, and he was alone. 

He’d look in the mirror and feel disgusted with his own body, crying that he had no control over a young fucking girl.

He’d walk through the hallways curling in on himself feeling like everyone he passed by in haze would look at him and just somehow knew what happened, like they were all laughing at him. 

No one cared, no one fucking cared about his pain and he had to hold it all in.

Every passion, every dream, every desire died within him, you took everything and didn’t give a damn.

He could still feel you under his skin, over his shoulder. Still could taste the bitter intrusion of your tongue.

Every time he passed your car parked on the side of the road at school he’d seethe in his seat feeling like he was to blame for the assault.

Why didn’t he fight harder? Why did his body react the way it did, maybe he liked it..

No, no, that wasn’t it, it couldn’t be. Had he done something to make you think he was interested? Should he have not tutored you after school with chapters you were struggling with?

What could he have done differently, or better guide you into the right direction of choices?

His skin crawled at the memories, still trying to figure out the reason as to why.

Who would believe that a young girl could rape an older man? There was no such thing and surely other men would joke about it, that’s what he felt like a joke.

Because of you, he didn’t know who he was or what his purpose in life was anymore.

[aion-rsa]

The Roots of Riverdale: Archie Comics Turns 80

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“It’s a golden age to be an Archie Comics fan right now,” says company president Mike Pellerito with infectious enthusiasm, adding “I just can’t imagine a better time.”

The declaration is more than accurate, as the independently owned publisher is celebrating its 80th anniversary with the massive CW hit Riverdale entering its sixth season (one that will bring on board Kiernan Shipka’s teenage witch from the late, lamented Netflix series Chilling Adventures of Sabrina as a guest star). Despite the TV success, comics are still Archie’s bread and butter, from the digest reprints that beg for impulse buys at the supermarket to a series of innovative titles that have seen Archie and his “pals and gals” become critical darlings.

Some history: In December of 1941, MLJ Comics – a publisher then best known for its stable of superheroes like The Shield, a patriotic figure who predates Captain America – released Pep #22, featuring a backup story focusing on lovable klutz Archie Andrews. It was an instant success due to the humor and charm of its cast, which included lovely girl-next-door Betty Cooper and oddball pal Jughead Jones (Veronica Lodge was not yet part of the picture).

Created by MLJ publisher John L. Goldwater and artist Bob Montana, Archie drew influence from the era’s youth-based Andy Hardy films and successfully predicted how teenage life would become the fulcrum for popular culture in the following decades. Indeed “America’s typical teenager” (as the tagline for Archie’s solo book claimed) became so beloved that MLJ renamed itself in his honor. The peak of Archiemania was 1969, when the cartoon group The Archies, created by rock impresario Don Kirshner and featured on Filmation’s hit The Archie Show, had the number one song of the year with their eternal earworm “Sugar Sugar.”

Since 1987 Dan Parent has been writing and illustrating for Archie and he views the “common sustaining thread through the entire history of Archie Comics has been that love triangle.”

Indeed, the eternal Archie/Betty/Veronica love triangle is such a strong narrative framework that thousands of stories have been built upon it – and everyone who is familiar with these characters has a strong opinion about who Archie should wind up with and why.

The 2010s saw Archie begin a series of daring moves that would establish the brand as an industry innovator, from the magazine Life with Archie: The Married Life to the introduction of Kevin Keller, Riverdale’s first openly gay resident, created by Parent (and recently the focus of a successful Kickstarter that will see the publishing of an omnibus packed with over 700 pages of Kev’s adventures). Then came the horror titles Afterlife with Archie and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, which paved the way for the television Archieverse.

All of which is to say that Archie is experiencing a creative renaissance despite having recently turned 80.

“The character archetypes are so flexible and work in so many different settings that you can throw them into anything and they would stand,” explains Archie Senior Director of Editorial and Betty and Veronica: Vixens (in which the pair awesomely led a biker gang) creator/writer Jamie Lee Rotante. “No matter what genre, what time span, it just works because the characters are so well defined.”

Director of Publicity and Social Media Ron Cacace (whose work with artist Vincent Lovallo on the viral Bite Size Archie comics on Twitter became a sensation) credits Archie stories not getting bogged down in their own mythology as a key reason to their ongoing success.

“They’re not, for the most part, these long, ongoing dramas like you may have in superhero stories,” he explains. “You can pick up any Archie issue, any Archie digest, and immediately within five pages get a grasp of who these characters are, what the situation is, what they’re going through, and you just want to read the next one.”

The past 80 years have seen Archie rocking out with the likes of The B52’s and Kiss, getting killed, fighting zombies, serving in World War II, etc. Yet at his core he remains “America’s typical teenager.” A fact that Archie Comics President Mike Pellerito attributes to the longevity of these characters. “This is a fun group of kids to hang out with that you want to have as friends,” he says. “And I think what makes Archie (characters) special is they always earnestly try their best, even if it turns into a comedic disaster.”

It’s a recipe for success that has been working for 80 years, even if Archie still looks the same as ever.

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Over the course of the past 80 years, Archie has published its fair share of oddities. Here are our favorites.

Jughead’s Diner

Publishing titles like the science fiction-tinged Archie 3000 and Jughead’s Time Police, Archie Comics went through a fascinating experimental phase in the early 1990s. A fan favorite book from this era was Dan Parent’s Jughead’s Diner, which had our ever-hungry hero interacting with the wacky denizens of an interdimensional eatery.

Spire Christian Comics

In the 1970s, Archie writer/artist Al Hartley infamously convinced the company to license its characters to Spire Christian Comics, to be sold in religious bookstores. With titles like Archie’s Love Scene and Archie’s Sonshine, these jaw-dropping books featured off-brand takes on the characters that must be read to be believed.

Life with Archie

From mind-controlling teddy bears to Deliverance homages, the 1970s run of Life with Archie thrust the gang into unbelievable storylines that were as implausible as they were entertaining. For anyone who thinks Riverdale is the first time that Archie got weird, we point them in this comic’s direction.

Little Archie

Created by writer/artist Bob Bolling in 1956, Little Archie was an early example of juvenile versions of popular characters. Tonally shifting between humor, whimsy, and excitement—​​aliens and monsters were commonplace—these stories also had a melancholy edge that still make them essential reading.

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