#i was busting my lungs laughing at how big the height difference is

[plant-cell-park]

this is actually absurd

[contagiousprincess]

i defy you, stars- Chapter 1

“From your first cigarette to your last dyin’ day”

Two households, both alike in dignity

(In fair Verona where we lay our scene)

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;

Whose misadventurous piteous overthrows

Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

The fearful passage of their death-marked love

And the continuance of their parents’ rage,

Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove,

Is now the two hours traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend

-William Shakespeare

The Whispering Woods were once tangled growth, full of creatures and plants alike waiting for their chance to claw to the surface. The soil was fertile and the air was sweet, but the area was crowded. The so called “whispering” was the noise of the wind pushing and squeezing it’s way through the brush and tightly woven tree trunks. Or, according to legend, it was the noise of the wildlife twisting, changing, moving to confuse lost travelers. 

No one was quite sure how the first people managed to make their stake along the banks of the river that ran through the heart of the forest and emptied into the ocean. But they imagined that they had to follow the forest's rules, because otherwise they would have been eaten up and spit out like the bugs that crawled along the skin of the ground. However they did it, those people weren’t alone for long.

Soon enough, another group came to compete, on the other bank of the river. The two different clans of people could have cooperated, learned to help each other, and survived to tell the tale to others. But just like the wildlife and fragrant trees before them, the two seemed determined to push the other down to reach the top, drawing lines in the silence that separated them. 

Where before, the forest was one giant, breathing body, a new word was introduced to the area: border. They fought for control of the harbor and the trade route along the river, but they were so evenly matched that no one ever won, instead locked forever in an endless stalemate.

So, the two groups began a bitter rivalry. One that continued for many, many, many years. Long after a bridge was built, connecting the two sides of the river for trade (though neither group would dare suggest it was necessary). Long after The Whispering Woods no longer whispered since the trees were gone and the wind had grown hot and stale. Long after the bugs and skin of the earth was replaced with cobblestone streets and alleys. So much long after, that now when asked what they were fighting over, the groups could not even remember, only that if the Horde and the Alliance ran into each other on the streets, someone would walk away badly hurt or worse. 

And this was how on a particularly sweltering hot day, six people almost died.

“Did you just flip us off?” Though most of her thick hair was pulled into a band beside her face, Mermista brushed the remaining pieces of hair out of her eyes, as if to make sure she was seeing clearly, but her dark eyes and thick eyebrows were dangerous, daring anyone to mess with her.

“And what if I did?” Lonnie catcalled, the sound ringing through the street. She was shorter, but stood tall, her boots planted firmly on the street with her hands on her hips. The braids on her head framed her face and softened the defined lines, but there was nothing soft about the way her mouth curled as she taunted the other girl.

“I’d tell you that if you apologize for it, we won’t beat you into a stain on the street.” Mermista stood shoulder to shoulder with Sea Hawk, who might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, but could fight just as well as the next guy. His dorky mustache and dumb boot and bandana combo seemed harmless enough, but he had a tendency to burn down anything in his path. Literally.

Lonnie considered this, and turned to Rogelio, who was broad and as mean as nails, visually and physically intimidating. “Do you think we would get arrested if I flipped them off again?”

“Yes,” Rogelio said simply. A man of few words, so when he used them, it was prudent to listen.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Lonnie looked Mermista up and down and called, “I didn’t flip you off, but I was flipping someone off! Now, why are you still here?”

“You picking a fight?” Rogelio said. 

“Me? Pick a fight? Never,” Mermista said, eyes flashing.

“Watch it,” Rogelio grunted. 

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because Shadow Weaver is behind you!” yelled Lonnie, suddenly. She pointed, fear flashing across her face. Mermista and Sea Hawk spun around wildly, craning their necks, but they were only met with the normal hustle and bustle of the harbor. 

Lonnie busted out into laughter, doubling over and eventually having to sit on the ground to catch her balance and breath. She held her stomach, tears running down her face as her laughs echoed through the street. 

Mermista and Sea Hawk turned around, faces red and now so furious, sparks practically flew off of them. Sea Hawk unsheathed his sword and started towards them, but his friend grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, but he still strained against her.

“Oh, we got ourselves a comedian, huh?” Mermista drew her sword and faced them. “Personally, my favorite joke is the one where we pummeled the two Horde scrum into dust and they got washed down the river. The punchline always gets me.” 

Lonnie finally started to rise from the ground, and pulled out a dagger. “I’d like to see you try.”

Rogelio turned toward her, drawing his sword, and quietly said “Don’t forget that parry maneuver we’ve been working on. It’s all in the footwork.”

“Not the time, Rogelio! We have bigger problems, like a princess and her big fat mouth!”

At that, Mermista released Sea Hawk, and the four lunged towards each other. As soon as the clang of metal swords started to echo through the city, a young male voice could be heard yelling for them to stop. 

After a minute passed with no avail, an arrow careened over the group's heads, making a horrible screeching noise and catching their attention for a moment. Taking advantage of the opening, Bow pushed his way into the center, driving them apart. A top notch archer, the dark-skinned teen was well respected in the Alliance. He wasn’t necessarily the strongest, but agility and cleverness kept him on his toes, as well as alive. 

“Everybody back up! Do you have any clue what you’re doing?!” he screeched, desperately holding his hands up in a feeble attempt to keep them from colliding again. He finally managed to wrest Mermista’s sword out of her hand and pushed her and Sea Hawk away from the Horde teens. 

“We stand on thin ice as it is,” he said to the two of them. “Whatever the Horde trash did to provoke you isn’t worth it.” Raising his voice, he called, “They aren’t worth any of your time.” He gestured to Lonnie and Rogelio with Mermista’s sword, glaring as he did.

Lonnie opened her mouth to defend herself, but she was interrupted by another member of the Horde. 

Scorpia was tall and extremely buff, making Rogelio look like a prepubescent boy. Her shock of white hair on top was cropped close to her head and her eyes, normally kind and warm, were furious and focused. Scorpia, drawn by the sounds of fighting, had started running over seconds ago but now was faced with the sight of Bow pointing a sword at her two friends. 

She stormed in front of the two and stared down Bow, who paled upon seeing her. 

“Threatening my friends, Bow?” She towered over the other boy, and he craned his neck to see her. “Hope you had fun, because I won’t let it happen again.”

“I was trying to get them to stop fighting, Scorpia!” Despite their difference in size, he set his jaw and didn’t back down.

“With your sword drawn?” She scoffed.  “A likely story! You Alliance brats are always so high up on your horse, yelling about peace, complaining about the fighting but then you come into our territory and attack us when we mind our own business, and I, for one, am sick of it.” 

Bow began to speak very slowly and deliberately, as if explaining something simple to a child. “I. am. not. attacking. anyone. But if I was, it wouldn’t be much of a fight,” he smirked. 

Scorpia, enraged, drew herself up to her full height, and faced him, head on. “Lets have at it then,” she said, voice deadly even. 

Bow hesitated, and then knocked an arrow and drew it. “Fine with me”

Scorpia charged at him, leaping towards his head with her bare hands. Bow quickly ducked and rolled underneath her, coming up behind Scorpia on one knee. Just as her feet hit the pavement, he released his arrow. The arrowhead fractured in midair and split, shooting out a web, the delicate filaments of wire and carefully placed weights searching for a target to ensnare. 

The web slammed into Scorpia’s shoulder, biting into her skin and pulling her down, but only managed to wrap itself around her arm, fortunately for her. Unfortunately for Bow, Scorpia grabbed hold of the web and began to swing it, transforming her trap into a weapon. 

She advanced on him, taking the weighted net with her. Bow tried to back up and pull another arrow, but she closed in on him, taking advantage of his lack of close range weapons. She swung the web at him, and he ducked the first time, narrowly avoided the second, but on the third she feinted towards his head, changed course and then used her net to sweep his feet out from underneath him. 

Bow fell flat on his back, his head hitting the ground with a sickening thud, and Scorpia towered above him. She raised the heavy weights above her and started to bring them down on him, but a shout stopped her cold in her tracks. 

A small crowd of citizens had gathered, circling the group, but they during the fight began to chant something that completely baffled the six enemies. 

“Down with the fight! Down with the Horde! Down with the Alliance!”

The racket grew and grew, gathering almost all of the citizens not affiliated with either the Horde or the Alliance. The cacophony reached its peak when a horn call sounded and the crowd cleared a walkway and silenced. They stared up in awe as the 3 most powerful people in Whispering Woods strolled in front of them: Hordak, Shadow Weaver, and Angella. 

Hordak was muscular but not overly so. He walked with an odd gait, and his greasy black hair and beady eyes that were almost red were disquieting. But he radiated power, and as he walked the citizens bowed. Hordak was the Prince of the Whispering Woods, and he would be obeyed. 

Shadow Weaver was the leader of the Horde, one of the feuding groups, and Angella was the leader of the Alliance, the other. The two were both tall, but the similarities ended there. Shadow Weaver was lanky, and had long dark hair. She was clothed in deep red, and wore a mask covering her face. Even though her eyes couldn’t be seen, anyone who felt her stare grew anxious. Angella, on the other hand, was willowy, with long, bright hair. Her face was kind, but sharp. This along with the circlet inlaid with a pearl that sat on her forehead, immediately gave the impression that this was someone who was to be listened to and obeyed without question. 

The Prince strode in front of the other two, but they stood as far apart as possible, shooting each other with dark looks that made the citizens uneasy. Hordak, commanding the attention of every person in the street, sauntered up to where Scorpia still stood over Bow. Without saying a word, he flicked his wrist and Shadow Weaver and Angella untangled the two and dragged them as well as the other four to opposite sides of the circle that the crowd had formed. 

“Citizens!” Hordak boomed. “I have heard countless complaints about the feud which has led to this incident.” He sneered as he said it, making the fact that the enemies had almost killed each other seem as insignificant as childhood tomfoolery, and in a way, it was. “This ancient grudge has interrupted trade, caused countless injuries, and endlessly fosters riots and unrest amongst my people. It is high time for it to break.”

Angella and Shadow Weaver began to stammer, no doubt trying to pin the blame on the other, but Hordak simply held up his hand and they fell quiet. 

“I recognize that I cannot control the… feelings of my citizens.” His lip curled. “However, something still must be done. The city cannot stand with its people constantly fighting in the streets. So, my decision is this: whichever of you causes any more disturbance in my city will pay for it with their life.”

The crowd broke out into anxious murmurings, and the feuding groups began to protest, but Hordak held firm.

“I have made my decision. Now all of you go before I regret not ending you all here and now.” He leveled a glare at both groups and the citizens, who hesitated but began to disperse. Hordak turned his gaze to the women who led both groups and called out to them. “Shadow Weaver, follow me. Angella, I will speak with you later.”

The Horde and Alliance members all hesitated for a moment. 

“Was I unclear? GO!” roared Hordak.

With one final glare at each other, the two groups broke apart. Shadow Weaver fell into step behind Hordak, Angella led her Alliance towards the other side of the river, and Scorpia took the Horde members in the direction of their manor.

None of them noticed what was left behind. As they all meandered away, muttering darkly about their respective foes, a clear mark of the fight remained. Though no one could say exactly who it belonged to, it didn’t really matter in the end. 

A singular smear of sticky, scarlet-red blood stained the cobblestone street, seeping into the cracks in the mortar, already beginning to dry in the sweltering hot sun. 

notes: hiya! im katie and the idea for this fic basically mugged me in the middle of the night and i had to do something about it. this is just a teaser i think theres like a part two of chapter one but it was bulky and i wanted to post something bc why not. im not quite sure what im doing with this fic but i dont care im having fun lmfao. ive never written any fic before so be nice or i will block you i dont give a shit! this will probably go up on ao3 as soon as i can get an invite so for now this will live on tumblr yee haw! anyways lmk what yall think but only if its nice kk byeeee xoxoxo

[seulgiology]

take you on a drive | johnny suh

Headcanon!

pairings: childhood friend!johnny x childhoodfriend!female reader

words: 1.5k

genre: fluffy headcanon with humor uwu

synopsis: I’m pretty sure we all know NCT 127. You know, the 10-member K-Pop group who makes some questionable, but nonetheless amazing music? Then you must know their lead dancer and underrated vocalist/rapper, Johnny Suh. But what was he like before the fame and popularity? What happened in Chicago?

warnings: cursing

a/n: fuck, yall im so sorry for that long ass gif jdlknjdbc,,, anygays ADMIN 1 HERE YER YER. unedited in my angst to post this

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. Thank you and enjoy :)

--

boy oh boy i hope ya’ll saw those pre-debut pictures of johnny cause-

CHILE

but before we get into that;

how’d you meet in the first place?

funny you ask

it was by pure coincidence

you were a rising junior in high school

yikes lol,

you were pretty fucking young

you had just got your drivers license and desperately wanted to drive your parents car

the sad part:

your annoying ass little brothers had to go with you wherever you drove

two of these devils were too much

imagine being in a CAR with them

hell

around august, you being the good sister you are,

offered to take them to the amusement park

with their equally annoying friends lol

12 year olds are just,,,

sigh

but you weren’t the only one chaperoning

one of their friends older brother (you vaguely remember his name being Johnny)tagged along to watch the devil spawns with you

and my my my, you were not expecting him to hop in the back of your moms mini van with all that hair

ya’ll know that hair he had pre-debut when it was super long and shaggy-like? yea that one

but he was cute

in a nerdy way though

you couldn’t help but steal peeks at him a few times-

or what you thought was being discreet

-through the rear view mirror of course

and what you gathered was this:

naturally puckered lips

might still be going through puberty with his voice

muscly arms, probably his whole body too

friendly eyes but intimidating face

in conclusion-

you didn’t know what to think about him

there came a point on the highway when your brothers and their friends wanted snacks

you exited the highway to the nearest gas station and sighed into the steering wheel as you waited for them to come back

“are you always this annoyed?” came a sudden voice.

you damn near banged your head against the car roof with how high you sat up

“shit, i thought you were in there with the boys.”

your hand was clutching your flowery tank top, the hot weather was not playing today

and he sniggered under his breath at obviously startling you

“What’s so funny?” in all honesty, you weren’t even upset

you just wanted him to get that you were not the one to mess with

… with your clear jelly sandals

… and clip on earrings your little sister forced you to wear

… and the flowers on your tank were the icing on the cake

the childish pout on your face was absolutely adorable to him

“You’re blushing. it’s cute.”

You couldn’t keep your front in place for long with that contagious smile he had

“It’s just insanely hot.”

“Pfft and so am I.” He playfully scoffed at your remarks, his bangs shifting along with his movement

the car fell into a comfortable silence after that,

both of you too awkward to continue

when the boys finally got into the car after 902837 years,

you were once again on your way to the esteemed amusement park

once you guys arrived, the boys immediately ran off to the biggest rollercoasters to ride

with you two alone

so much for chaperoning right

at least they said they’ll call if they need you

so there you were;

thinking how the hell you ended up with this sarcastic and sweaty dweeb

you turned towards him in time to see him already looking your way

might as well make the most out of the situation, right?

“I heard the Goliath is pretty scary.” You warily suggest

“Only if you’re a wuss.” He jesters back

“Tch, im pretty sure you’ll be throwing up your intestines by the time we’re done”

“I guess we’ll have to actually get on the ride to see, don’t we?” The cunning smirk was challenging and you were ready for it.

even if you were a little bitch who couldn’t stand heights

sorry to the readers who actually are afraid of heights

but if this guy Johnny was daring you,

something about him made you want to prove him wrong

“Race you to the coaster!”

and he ran off, leaving you in the dust

“I bet $5 he doesn’t know where he’s going.”

about an hour later, you and Johnny rode about 4 roller coasters

laughing until you cried

and screaming at the top of your lungs in absolute joy

but the slightly older teen at your side was having the time of his life too

for a completely different reason

his mind went blank when you held his hand tight as the ride was climbing to the top

he couldn’t contain his smile when you tugged him along to another ride and told him,

“Johnny we have to ride this one, It’s going to be even better than the last.”

you met up with the other boys to eat some of the food you snuck in

ngl y’all every time i went to six flags they don’t allow outside food in?????

none of you were tired yet, and spent another 3 hours at the park

You and Johnny found yourselves near the boardwalk part

It came to a surprise that he was the one tugging you along

you played all of the typical games people play

whack-a-mole

milk bottle

balloon bust

ring toss

roll-a-ball

that game where you have to shoot water in a hole to blow up the balloon

even managed to win your shaggy haired companion a stuffy

“it’s so pretty at night, isn’t it?”

you asked as he carried you on his back,

since you were complaining about your feet hurting

the lights of the carousel and the boardwalk together was so beautiful

you sat down near the big fountain in the middle, waiting for the other to make their way back

you chatted on and on about the amusement park

adored by the way his eyes seem to disappear when he laughed with you

and when you made your way back home, the conversation continued in the car too

you sung songs together and even managed to get on your brothers’ good side

surprise number 826363 of the night;

johnny could sing

You all sang your hearts out to Beyonce’s If I were a Boy, and TVXQ’s Mirotic

He couldn’t remember a time where he had so much fun in one day

so it was absolutely devastating when you pulled up to his house

“I guess this is it huh?”

he was so nervous, omg

he didn’t want to leave like that

shit, he spent the whole day having fun with an amazing person

he couldn’t believe he had to walk back in his house

and go on in life to only have this day as a memory

to lay at night and-

“You want my number, or...?”

you stifled a girlish giggle when he fumbled with his phone in his hand

you quickly opened up his contacts and added your name

with a little “<3″ at the end ‘cause you had to

you handed him back his phone and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers brushing against yours

your initial confidence soon left and all that was left was suffocating awkwardness

god he really wanted to say something

but he just had  to be a nervous

even if you both were pressed against each other on those roller coasters

“uh... I had a lot of fun with you- with everyone I mean, today, by the way,” he forced the words out

he could hear how nervous and shaky he was, but you could see his eyes held sincerity

“Yeah, so did I.”

you stared at him with a small smile on your face

shifting in place under the weight of his strong gaze

HONK!

you both jumped at the sound of the car honking obnoxiously

“Damn where is the knife ‘cause this tension is THICK”

“How do you even know what tension is, aren’t you like, 6?”

you snorted at johnny’s comeback and shook your head in amusement

“I should get going before they try and drive the car down the street”

you subconsciously put your hands in your back pockets and slowly back track towards the car

“Hey, y/n!”

just as you were getting in the front seat, you whip your head in his direction looking at him expectantly

“Maybe next time you won’t actually be scared.”

he sent a giddy grin your way before closing the front door

leaving you in the drivers seat with tingles throughout your body

and a grin on your face that you couldn’t wipe away even as you bid your parents good night

you toppled on your bed in a fit of giggles as you hug your phone to your chest

take a shot from every time i type giggles

“omg is he asking me out on a date?” you couldn’t help but ask aloud

suddenly, your phone chimes with a new message

your phone drops on your bed from your excitement

you already knew who it was from

you quickly opened the message and didn’t stop your eyes from rolling all the way to the back of your head

save me in your phone as ‘youngHOE’ ;)

he never failed to make you laugh

[darlingpetao3]

Miss Independent (Nash Wells x Reader)

Rating: T

Summary: You’re a tough and independent and oftentimes stubborn member of Team Flash, almost to the point of self-sabotage. But when Nash Wells pops onto the scene and beats you in a fight, you refuse to accept any form of help from him in the latest Team Flash mission.

Tag List: @fandomdancer�� @bluesclues-1234​ @blogforhoes​

You’ve always been a do-it-herself kind of girl.

In school, when you carried your books to class, sometimes boys would ask to carry them for you.

“No thanks, I’m good.”

And there’s always that one item at the store that’s on the top shelf, just out of reach. A fellow customer or a stock-boy will check to see if you need assistance in reaching the pesky missing piece of your grocery list.

“Oh, that’s fine, I got it,” you’d say, and proceed to scale the shelves and channel the essence of your stretchy teammate and friend to reach it.

You may even reach a new level of stubbornness when you decline to accept help to carry said groceries up and into your downtown Central City apartment.

“I’m nearly there, thanks though!”

And you by no means need a man to save you.

Since the infamous Particle Accelerator explosion of 2015, and subsequently gaining your new-found abilities, you can do it all yourself. You can take care of yourself. Team Flash has lovingly dubbed you Miss “Indy” Independent.

Of course, one night of working your second-job as a vigilante for smaller crimes (muggings, corner store thefts, that kind of thing), you come face to face with a man who will turn your life upside down.

As if it hadn’t been turned upside down already.

***

You’re patrolling a different section of the city than usual tonight, near the Ivo Labs building, when you spot a figure in the alleyway at the side door to the premises. You press your fingers to your domino mask to make sure your identity is secure for this upcoming bust.

“Hey, you!” you shout. “Get away from there!”

Fully expecting the tall shadowy figure to flee, you are surprised to find the opposite. In fact, they step out into the dim light of the street lamps. It’s a man. It’s…

Oh hell, it’s another one.

You catch him stash something into one of his pockets. So this Wells is a thief. Huh… that’s different.

You’re still not going to take it easy on him.

“Whatever that is,” you call out, making careful advancements toward him, “you better hand it over.”

“Let me guess, ‘or else?’” This new, apparently cocky Wells replies. You laugh.

“You better believe it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Then you’re in for a world of hurt.”

You break into a run, effectively charging Wells the Thief. Only, what you didn’t expect was for the man to shoot a grappling hook at a fire escape up above. He uses the propelling motions to fly over your body and land on the other side of you.

“Neat trick,” you say with a growing annoyance. But why don’t you fight me for what you took like a real man?” To emphasize the figurative throwing down of your gauntlet, you get into fighting stance and put up your dukes.

Wells walks back towards you, not even attempting to leave the situation. You can already tell this one loves a good fight. Hell, maybe they all do. This ought to be good.

You throw the first punch - pulling back tightly like a master archer - and letting it fly. What should have been his face, your knuckles meet his palm as he catches it.

How-?

“Gotta do better than that,” he says. You continue to throw a flurry of punches, all of which this Wells manages to block. And then, on your last one, disarms you and renders both your hands incapable of moving.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Wells remarks. “Are you married to that mask, or…?”

“Shut up.”

By hooking a leg around his you get him to stumble down to his knees, but he lunges at your middle and knocks you both down to the ground. Luckily, your head didn’t hit the pavement, but the crash is still not at all pleasant on the ol’ tush.

You take your chance and attempt to rifle a hand into the pocket you saw Wells stash the mysterious stolen object. Only…

“Call me old fashioned,” Wells says with a sideways smile, “but I’d rather you buy me dinner first, my dear.”

After being momentarily confused, you realize what you are rooting around for in his pocket is not, in fact, the thing he stole.

“Give it to me, now!” you demand before you’re forced to use resort to using your special abilities on this crook. This Wells’ eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Sorry Beautiful, I’m not that kind of guy.” The pair of you scramble to get up and just as you lift your hands to power up your energy blasts, Wells flashes the item he stole at you. He shoots you a wink. “Rain check?”

Suddenly, there’s a loud noise, followed by a dense fog of smoke. You run into the haze, hoping that didn’t just happen - that a thief didn’t get away from you. You’ve fought big bad metas! How could you lose against a cocky, ability-less, cat-burglar with second rate magician’s tricks?

Still stunned at your failure, you head home for the night while replaying everything about the fight in your head until it nearly drives you mad. You can’t believe you lost. You never lose! Consider yourself clocking out of this night shift. You hope you see that bastard again because when you do, you’ll be ready. 

And he’ll regret the day he messed with you.

***

“(Y/N), meet Nash.”

You can’t believe it.

You cannot believe Barry is introducing you to him.

“You.” Your voice seethes with disdain. Of course this Nash, the Wells from that night that shall not be referenced, lights up like the sun at seeing you. He points in your direction.

“I’d know those eyes anywhere,” he says smoothly. “How’ve you been?”

“You two already know each other?” Cisco asks, scanning you both on opposite sides of the main monitor desk. You give a flat “no” the very second Nash says “we sure do.”

“‘Know’ is such a strong word,” you explain vaguely. “You know he’s a thief, right?”

“Yeah, he kind of helped us with our own heist…” Cisco says.

Great, so now we’re thieves?

“Anyway,” Barry continues hastily, “we’ve come up with a plan to catch Pinstripe at last. But there is a catch…”

“Let me guess. I serve as a distraction?” It would only seem fitting. You happened to have had a brief relationship with Pinstripe, one of Central City’s biggest gangsters. To be fair, though, this was before he ‘made it big,’ so to speak. You had no idea so long ago that your boyfriend at the time would become a heinous villain.

“Actually…” Barry scratches the back of his neck. Oh, great. “You’d be the bait.”

Welp, this might as well happen.

“Okay,” the word comes out as a sigh. “He’s been trying to track me down for years anyway. Just let me know the when and where and I’ll get it done. I’ll bring him down.”

“We’re going to send Nash in with you,” Barry tells you, “to keep you safe. Meanwhile, Frost and I will-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you interrupt your friend. “I don’t need anyone, let alone him to keep me safe.”

“I can help,” Nash steps in, “I have experience in-”

“-No, thanks. I got this all on my own. I don’t need your help.”

The Wells doppelganger holds his hands up in surrender. Barry and Cisco’s cringing expressions don’t go unnoticed as they exit, leaving you with Nash. As if to dissolve the extremely palpable tension, Nash leans against the wall.

“So, how about that dinner?”

***

You should have figured your ex-boyfriend would have shot you.

Really, the blast from his top of the line energy rifle nicked your shoulder, but it still hurt like hell. Part of the sleeve of your jacket has a singed hole. You could probably see the smoke coming off of it if you weren’t booking it up the stairwell of this office building. Pinstripe must have seen you dart inside…

“You won’t get away from me this time, (Y/N)!” the gangster calls up to you.

You press a finger to the comms in your ear. “You guys, I’m leading him to the rooftop.” There’s no reply. “Guys?” Well, shit.

Pushing through the exit door on the uppermost level, you keep running until you reach the ledge. You need to think fast. Maybe you have enough energy stored up for a good blast at Pinstripe? You have to try.

Pinstripe, with his suit that matches his Cisco-given villain name and slicked-back hair, he finally swaggers through the door. He’s no longer in a rush to capture you. There’s nowhere to run for you and still no sign of Barry or Frost.

“So, it’s come to this?” Pinstripe asks with a gross smirk. “Running away from our love again?”

“You’re a bastard. And I don’t love you.”

“Tell you what? You get away from that ledge, come home with me, and I won’t shoot you?”

“As if.”

You thrust your hands forward to let loose one of your energy blasts from your hands, but nothing happens. You have no stored energy left…

Pinstripe raises his rifle and aims. “I gave you a chance.”

Just then, your comms short-circuits in your ear, taking you by surprise and causing you to stumble back and hurtle over the edge. But an exhilarated shout grows louder, and before you know what’s happening, something catches you mid-fall. And now you’re… swinging through the air?

“Aw, (Y/N), are you falling for me?”

Looking up, you find yourself in the firm grasp of Nash Wells. The man smiles at you, but you are still in shock. You’re finding it hard to breathe.

When the pair of you finally touch ground again, Nash makes sure to set you down gently.

“Are you alright?” he asks you.

You do a quick self-check. “Yeah, yeah I think so.”

“Indy, are you safe?” Barry’s voice chimes in your ear. The comms are back online, it would seem. “We’ve captured Pinstripe. I’m taking him to Iron Heights.”

“I’m safe,” you confirm. “...Thanks to Nash.” The Wells beside you smiles at the recognition. “Seriously, thank you. I’d be pancake if you hadn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A wave of guilt and realization washes over you. “Listen, I’m sorry for biting your head off before. I was just bitter at having lost to you that night. See, I never lose. Apparently I’m on a downward streak.”

Nash simply nods, letting you get everything out.

“I was blind before, but now I know it’s okay to have help from others. Especially when you’re about to die!” You laugh awkwardly. “I don’t know why it took me so long to see it. I’m on a team, and I haven’t been acting like it.” Now you’re talking more to yourself. You proffer a hand to your saviour. “Welcome to Team Flash, Nash.”

“Thank you.”

You know, now that I think about it, this guy’s not half-bad looking...

“So,” you start, “how about that dinner?”

~

Requested by @emilyfandoms​: So the readers personality is more of a do it herself type of girl. She doesn't need a man outlook on life because she can do it herself. She is a strong meta and knows how to handle herself even without her powers. So on first meeting Nash maybe they get into an actual fight and she ends up loosing which she gets super salty about it and can't stand Nash after that with his cocky personality and all. So once he finally( flirty with her) joined the team they have to use her as bait to catch a villain who is specifically after her. She ends up getting hurt and Nash saved her literally sweeping her off her feet afterward. So she falls for him then because she never had a man actually save her and yeah she wanting some Nash booty after if ya get what I mean. 🍑 👀 😏

[oxnardsart]

Before I'm too busy with a new game, here's another Boxer Beats page! http://boxerbeats.thecomicseries.com/comics/27 --- “You know what? Let’s do it.” Lesbuni decided. “You? Me? Together?” Nishi asked. “Mostly just me. You can come if you want.” “If it’s exciting enough I probably will!” the dino gave a confused smile. “I’m going to talk to Foxie.” Lesbuni took in a deep breath. “You’re gonna tell her that we’re doin’ it!? I don’t think she’ll like that.” “The doing it that we’re doing is telling Foxie whatever I tell her!” Lesbuni yelled. She and Nishi left the stadium and headed over to the Do-Gooders headquarters. She knew Foxie was in the jail there, and it was too much to keep waiting. Lesbuni waited for her turn to talk to Foxie. The Do-Gooders had a little area where visitors and criminals could talk together. This is where Nishi normally kept in touch with Foxie. It was a lonely experience for the fox, stuck there every day. People weren’t likely to visit a jail every day of their lives just to keep you company, so whenever someone stopped by it was exciting! But Lesbuni had waited twenty minutes for her chance to talk to Foxie, and she wasn’t showing up. Two minutes later, “I don’t think she’s coming...” Nishi frowned, “It’s been twenty-two minutes.” “Give it a little more time...” Lesbuni sighed. She was still tired from screaming with Don earlier today. She closed her eyes for a second and... “LESBUNI WAKE UP!” Nishi busted his lungs out - Lesbuni woke up with him right up in her face. “You fell asleep!” Lesbuni yawned and stretched, “How long have I been asleep for...?” “A minute.” Nishi honked. “That’s it! I give up.” Lesbuni threw her hands in the air and got up, “Twenty-three minutes? Wow. She sure doesn’t care about keeping us waiting.” “Oh, now it’s twenty-four minutes...” Nishi reported. “Wow. I must be dead to her,” Lesbuni growled. It was an adorable little bunny growl. She’s too cute to be scary and mad. Tee hee. “Lethbuni! Nithi!” A lispy alligator came running into the room, “You two gotta come quick. Foxthie ithn’t in here - the’th in the boxthing ring!” No wonder she hadn’t showed up. Lesbuni immediately ran out the door. She was sure she could catch Foxie if she hurried! The moment Lesbuni got back in the Boxer Beats stadium, she heard Oxnard over the mic, “Aaaand onto our next fight. Congratulations Foxie on making it through another round - you sure showed that fruit-suiter where to shove his banana.” Lesbuni smiled - that sounded like the Foxie she knew. But she had to find her before she left! Lesbuni was standing at the stage entrance, looking out to see if Foxie was anywhere near the ring, but there was nothing. She looked towards the different exits to try and catch her leaving, but there wasn’t anyone around... That meant Foxie was gone. Lesbuni sank to her knees. She was so tired of how the two always missed each other. Gaydar ran in from the entrance and tried to stop himself as soon as he saw Lesbuni, but the clumsy gator slipped and fell on his butt. The stadium lights all fell on him, the crowd began to laugh and clap. “Gee golly, hehe! Good thing I gotta rump made of thteel~” Gaydar turned to his side to show off his tail, rubbing it teasingly for the crowd - who gave an aroused cheer. No wonder everyone loved him! Gaydar snapped out of it and whispered to Lesbuni, “Nithi’th thtaying at the jail in cathe you mithed Foxthie...” He looked around for Foxie, but Lesbuni’s disappointed expression, and being alone meant they were probably too late. “Come on Lethbuni! We jutht have to go back...” “I’m not going.” Lesbuni pouted and left the stage. She found a hallway and sat alone for a bit. It felt like the people Lesbuni cared about were always out of reach. And just in time, Nishi, Gaydar, and Macaroni all found her in the hallway. The rabbit groaned internally - she felt like they would give her an obvious lecture and push her to go see Foxie. “Heeey Lesbuni...” Nishi smiled, “Foxie couldn’t stay, so don’t worry about going back... but Mac had an idea!” Lesbuni looked annoyed at the thought of having to do anything. “How about a girls’ night out?” the older penguin lady asked. “We can take our minds off our partners and go have fun.” Lesbuni wasn’t expecting that. “Can Gaydar and I go to the girls’ night out too?” Nishi pleaded. Gaydar waggled his bare hips and winked. “Acthually, alligator anatomy can kinda make me look like thome girlth thinthe m-” Nishi covered Gaydar’s mouth. He knew Lesbuni didn’t like hearing about anatomical details. “You’re not gonna tell me what to do about Foxie?” Lesbuni looked up curiously. “Nah, we figured you’d hate that.” Nishi laughed. He was right! “But we weren’t sure if you’d want to go out...” Macaroni worried, “we can do whatever you want to.” Everyone looked at Lesbuni and let her decide. “I... haven’t gone dancing in a while...” the little bunny blushed. “I’m not good at it, but... it’s kind of fun...” “I wanna go danthing~!” Gaydar wrapped his arm around Nishi, “I know how to cut a rug, I’ll thow ya how it’th done!” Macaroni Penguin started to tap her feet and flap her wings, “Would you dance with me, Lesbuni?” The little bird chuckled, “I travelled down here alone, so I don’t have anyone to dance with...” “Oh that’s gross. Mac’s so old!” Nishi joked, “She’s probably like a hundred!” Lesbuni got up on her feet and took Macaroni’s wing in her paw. She couldn’t believe she was going to go dance with a grandma, or hang out with guys on a girls’ night out. She had no idea what to expect, but she was ready for it! “Let’s dance our asses off,” the rabbit cheered as she left the stadium with her new, weird friends. Round 3 After a refreshing night with her pals, Lesbuni was ready for another day in the ring. They were getting closer to the finale! “I’m kinda surprised...” Lesbuni told Nishi as the two of them headed to the stadium, “I didn’t think I’d get this far!” “I’m surprised too - but I knew you’d put up a good fight!” Nishi grinned, “I know you’re a shy bunny, but whenever you get in arguments you yell and puff out your little chest - I’d be afraid to fight you!” Lesbuni crossed her arms and scowled. “I didn’t mean your little chest. I meant ‘cause you’re a little bunny!” He smiled, “I would never comment on your lack of, uh...” “That counts as a comment!” Lesbuni snapped, “They’re none of your business.” “I agree,” her buddy giggled, until they saw the group of professional boxers protesting Boxer Beats. “Uh oh.” They were rowdier today because their calm leader, Stan, wasn’t around! “Hey, it’s that boxer bunny again,” growled one of the strong lion boxers. “You’re not boxing today, little guy?” “Nope.” Lesbuni quickly replied without even looking at him. “What do you mean, Lesbuni? You’re scheduled to fight today!” Nishi responded. “Dude, Nishi, quiet!” Lesbuni glared at him. “Ha! So you are coming in today?” The lion picked up the cardboard box and shook it, “Show us how you get in here! I know there’s stuff inside!” “Isn’t that a box of briefs?” Nishi chuckled, “We’re going to Boxer Beats. That’s what the competition is called,” he looked down at Lesbuni, “or is it Boxer Briefs?” Lesbuni took Nishi’s hand and hurried them out of there. However, the lion began to follow them. “If that box isn’t the real entrance to the Boxer Briefs competition, I’m gonna follow you two until you go to the real one,” the stalker lion growled. “You won’t want to miss your fight and lose the competition, right little rabbit?” Lesbuni was pissed. Now she had a guy stalking her, and trying to stop her from competing in Boxer Beats! She wasn’t going to let some jerk prevent her from trying to see her girlfriend, but most importantly... “I am NOT going to be stalked by anyone. ESPECIALLY not a guy.” Lesbuni turned around, her angry eyes looking right up at the big boxer. Nishi huddled behind her and nervously started playing with his phone. “I bet you do this to animals all the time if you think it’s okay to stalk anyone.” The little bunny growled, “It is NOT okay to do this. This is harassment.” The lion raised an eyebrow, “I’m not harassing you, lady. I can walk wherever I want.” He rolled his eyes, trying to sound polite, “I happen to be going to the same place you’re going, so can you please lead the way?” “No.” Lesbuni made herself clear, and after a moment of silence, “Well? I’m not leading you anywhere. So GO. If it’s not harassment, leave.” The lion lost his polite smile, “Okay, it wasn’t harassment before... but it is now.” Lesbuni was a firm believer in educating the stupid. She grabbed a book from her bag and threw it right at the lion’s face. She knew to go for the eyes if she had to fight an attacker, but he was too tall for her to reach. The lion blocked the book throw, but Lesbuni was ready to fight. With his hands covering his face, Lesbuni used her short height to attack his knees, feet, and groin. With a few hard hits, the lion bully was hurt. Lesbuni grabbed Nishi’s hand and made a run for it. “Oh my gosh, this is so scary!” Nishi cried as they ran far down the street, making sure the lion was still down. “Are you okay?” Lesbuni kept running, “Yeah! Attack and run.” Lesbuni was always skeptical of guys, and for once her paranoia and education helped her against one! “While you were saving our butts, I called for help!” Nishi showed her his phone. “Hey kids,” a tall, scary figure suddenly sprang up behind them. Nishi and Lesbuni screamed! After a moment, they realized it was their scrunky-looking friend, Fuxie. Nishi and Lesbuni screamed again! “Who do I get to beat up, where is he?” Fuxie asked Nishi, “He didn’t hurt ya?” “No no, we’re fine! Lesbuni kicked his butt,” Nishi grinned, “but you can go kick it some more before Officer Goatella gets here.” Fuxie laughed, eyeing the small rabbit, “Really? The little lady did it? Cool.” Their punky fox friend went to go kick at the guy the two had escaped - keeping him down until the Do-Gooders arrived. Lesbuni was proud of herself! She got praise from one of the toughest girls she knew, she protected her friend Nishi from getting hurt, she stood up for herself, and she made sure nothing got in the way of her competing in the tournament! Finally seeing her girlfriend again was going to be the best reward she could get. “Welp, that’s all taken care of...” Fuxie sighed, the fun part was over. “Nice to see Officer Goatella in action though~” She grinned as she checked out the goat arresting the lion stalker. “Goatella the gorgeous! Gee, I don’t know what I would have done without you guys - I mean, girls.” Nishi laughed, “I wish I was as tough as you three are.” “And I wish Goatella would use her handcuffs on me~” Fuxie growled playfully. Goatella was ready to head back to the DG headquarters, “You sweeties did such a good job defending yourself against that very handsome, muscular lion. He could use a tamer,” the motherly goat smiled. “I could use a tamer too,” Fuxie grinned with a wink. “That’s gross, Fuxie.” Nishi stuck out his tongue, “You’re not as smooth as-” “You’re completely hairless and bald everywhere, I know.” Fuxie smirked. “Don’t say that in front of Goatella!!” Nishi whined. Goatella smiled politely and kneeled down to the short rabbit, “Great self-defense, Lesbuni.” Goatella put a little Do-Gooders sticker on her shirt, “You don’t have to be an officer to be a Do-Gooder! Keep up the good work.” The lady goat smiled and left the scene while Nishi and Fuxie kept bickering. “Okay you two, I gotta go.” Lesbuni waved, the stadium up ahead, “Thanks for helping me get there safe!” “You would’ve anyway, ya little ass kicker,” Fuxie laughed. “We’re coming too, wait up!” Nishi and Fuxie headed off with Lesbuni. The three joked around while watching the show. The little rabbit was sincerely surprised someone as tough and scary-looking as Fuxie thought a shy little rabbit like her was tough! But she liked having Fuxie’s respect, and felt accomplished having tough ladies like her and Goatella on her side.

[calpalirwin]

Lullabies

Summary: Request of sorts- Things get out of hand when Luke’s daughter doesn’t want him to sing her to sleep.

A/N: Look! I finally wrote it!

Content: Dad!Luke, Uncle!5sos

Word Count: 2.1K

And away, and away we go!

~~~

You weren’t sure who cried harder when you announced your pregnancy, you, your husband Luke, or his bandmates. “Oh, we’re gonna sing her the best lullabies!” they all decided.

“Or him.”

“Nah,” Luke said, his blue eyes blurry as he rested his hand on your abdomen. “It’s totally a girl. My little princess.”

A week later, you were presented with a tape to play for the growing baby bump. You proudly blasted the tape to your bump for the rest of your pregnancy.

More tears spilled as you cradled that pink bundle to your chest, kissing the fair and thin hair. Amelia “Mia” Rose Hemmings was about to be the world’s most loved little girl.

You didn’t get to hold her long as Luke was quickly taking you from her, rocking her gently in his arms. “You got to hold her for nine months. There is still so much you’ll be able to do for her that I can’t,” he explained as you started to pout. “Let me have this, please?”

Singing. You had been accustomed to hearing it everywhere since you started dating Luke. That man was always either humming softly or singing at the top of his lungs. But there was something extra special about the sight of your husband dancing around the hospital room, the softest and sweetest sounding lullabies rolling off his lips as he rocked his princess to sleep.

~~~

“G’night love. I’ll be down the hall if you need me, okay?” Ashton told his niece as he tucked her in for bed. Y/N and Luke were on a double date with Crystal and Mike, and Calum was out visiting his sister, which meant Ashton was on overnight babysitting duty. Not that he minded in the slightest. He loved his niece like she was his own. They all did.

“Unca Ash!” Mia called out after him, making grabby hands.

“Yeah, love?”

“Sing!”

He froze.“Sing? Love, I don’t sing. Daddy sings. Do you wanna call him?”

She shook her head. “No. You sing!”

He sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You sure you don’t want a story?”

“Sing!” her little voice begged.

“Alright,” he relented.

Mia’s bright blue eyes grew brighter as Ashton started singing. She had never actually heard her uncle sing, but she still recognized his singing voice as strongly as she would have recognized Luke’s. It was inherent.

~~~

“Mia, shh,” Luke soothed, cradling her in his arms. He was getting flustered. He had always been able to soothe his daughter with his singing. Why was tonight suddenly different? 

“No, Daddy!” she whined, squirming out of his arms. “No sing!”

“You don’t want me to sing to you?” he asked, his heart breaking. He wasn’t ready for his little girl to be too big for lullabies.

“No!” she said, crossing her arms.

“Do you want Momma to read to you?” you offered, leaning in the doorway. Luke may have claimed the lullabies, but you had bedtime stories on lockdown.

“No! Lullaby!” she demanded shrilly.

“You want a lullaby?” you asked, trying to decipher the toddler’s words.

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to sing to you in the music room?” Luke asked her. Sometimes Mia preferred her lullabies to have the musical accompaniment.

“No! Daddy no sing!”

Luke laughed in frustration, his hand raking through his blond curls. “I do- Princess, you want a lullaby, but you don’t want me to sing?”

“Yes!”

“Mia, baby,” you jumped back in, coming to sit on the little girl’s bed. “Daddy sings. Momma reads. Who do you want to sing to you if not Daddy?”

“Unca Ash!”

“Ashton doesn’t even sing!” Luke cried in outrage, before he started to pace the room. “My princess… my own daughter! Wants the drummer to sing to her?! What?! I’m the lead singer! Mike? Sure. Okay. Cal? Definitely. But Ash?!”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to hide your giggles while Luke continued his pacing and venting while Mia began to bounce in bed, her hands clapping together as she chanted, “Unca Ash! Unca Ash!”

“Ashton!” Luke’s voice hissed into the phone. “What do you mean why do I sound pissed?! You turned my daughter against me! Yes! She wants you! Stop laughing! Alright, here she is.” He moved to sit on the floor beside you and Mia, putting his phone on speaker. “Tell Unca Ash what you want, princess,” Luke sighed heavily.

“Unca Ash!” Mia cheered, her blue eyes wide in excitement, grabbing Luke’s phone from his hands. “Sing!” she ordered.

Ashton giggled over the line. “Love, you sure you don’t want your daddy to sing to you?”

“No! You!”

Ashton giggled again. “Alright, love. Ready?”

“Sing!” she ordered again, her impatience growing.

“He’s never babysitting again,” Luke hissed up at you as Ashton’s voice lulled Mia to sleep, Luke’s phone clutched in her small fist.

~~~

Unfortunately for Luke, he wasn’t able to follow through on his threat that Ashton would never again babysit the princess. “Are you going to stop laughing?” Luke grumbled as he pulled into Ashton’s driveway.

You shook your head, hand clapped over your mouth as your body heaved with silent laughter. It had been a solid week of Mia demanding Ashton to sing her to sleep instead of Luke. And now, the little girl had demanded the drummer as her babysit because Luke had been stupid enough to ask her. “Why’d you ask her which uncle she wanted to watch her if you don’t want Ash watching her? Of course she’s gonna pick him,” you finally said when you caught your breath.

“Unca Ash!” Mia screamed happily, running up to Ashton after Luke freed her from the backseat.

“Love!” Ashton called, just as happily, crouching to wrap his niece in a bear hug. “Did she get lunch yet?”

You shook your head, passing him Mia’s bag. “She said she wanted to eat lunch with you. Something about a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Mia gasped and nodded her head excitedly, placing her hands on her uncle’s face. “Unca Ash cheese!”

“You know your daddy knows how to make them too, love,” Ashton said, looking over at Luke who glared back.

“No, Unca Ash cheese!” Mia said with more force.

Ashton looked over at Luke worriedly. “Mate, I- she’ll come around. You’re her dad.”

Luke continued to glare. He couldn’t be made at his princess, but he could sure as hell be mad at Ashton.

“Cheese, cheese, cheese!” Mia chanted in her uncle’s arms.

“Okay, I’ll make you a grilled cheese. Say bye-bye to Momma and Daddy.”

“Bye!” Mia told you and Luke.

“Bye, baby,” you said, kissing her blonde curls. “We’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Be good for Uncle Ash.”

“Eepover?” she asked, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands.

“Yeah!” Ashton told her, feeding off her energy. “You’re gonna sleep over at my house. How’s that sound?”

“Yay!”

“Bye princess,” Luke said, giving his daughter a kiss on her cheek. “Momma and I love you.”

“Bye! Wuv you!”

~~~

“Oh, mother-” Ashton started to swear before he remembered he was in the presence of little ears. “Don’t stop!” he blurted the first thing that came to his head. Yeah, he decided. “Don’t Stop” was a good filler for cursing that would be sure to drive Luke nuts. He had been trying to be nice to Luke, knowing that the younger man was genuinely torn up about his princess showcasing a preference for Ashton over her own father. But, Luke was testing Ashton’s patience with the pettiness of it all. All Ashton was was Mia’s uncle. He’d never be able to have the bond with her that Luke had. No one could. It was time to fight petty with petty.

Mia looked at her uncle in confusion. “Daddy says big people words.”

“I know,” Ashton said, setting the sandwich that had the faintest scorched lines on them for himself. The sandwich hadn’t been in danger of burning, but he knew Mia would only eat the sandwich if it was lightly toasted because the black scorch lines “taste icky.” “But you shouldn’t use those words. So you say ‘don’t stop,’ okay?”

She nodded her head excitedly, like Ashton had unlocked a secret world. 

~~~

It didn’t take long for Mia to utilize her secret. As luck would have it, the bomb dropped during a big 5sos family outing.

You all watched in silent horror as the ice cream scoop slid off the cone and plummeted to the ground, six sets of eyes whirling to watch what the little girl would do. Her mouth opened, and you all braced for the shrill scream. And promptly busted into a fit of giggles when that shrill scream was “Stupid don’t stop ice cream!”

“Mia, baby,” you quickly said, body shaking in held back laughter. If you looked at Mike who was already rolling in the grass, crying, you would definitely lose it. “Let’s not call things stupid. We can get you a new ice cream.”

“Unca Ash said!” was the blue-eyed protest.

A different set of blue eyes snapped to Ashton, humor gone. Of fucking course. “Ashton!”

“What? I told her not to actually swear,” Ashton defended, his hazel eyes dancing, his lips upturned in a humorous smirk.

“But ‘don’t stop’? Really? All the phrases in the fuckin’ world and that’s that one you fuckin’ go with?!”

“You giant don’t stop!” Mike wheezed from the grass which set Calum back into a fit of giggles, his hands covering his face.

“I hate this band,” Luke grumbled as Crystal picked Mike up off the ground and you got Mia a new ice cream.

“At least she’s not swearing like her dad,” Ashton tried to be helpful.

“Oh, don’t even!” Luke turned, using the slight height difference to tower down over the older man. “First you take lullabies from me, and now you have her substituting swears with the damn fuckin’ phrase!”

“Whoa!” Calum and Mike said, their humor disappearing as well. “Mia’s been asking Ash to sing to her?!”

“Yeah!”

“Mia! Don’t you like Uncle Cal’s voice?” Calum pouted at his niece.

Mia looked up at him with an ice cream smeared smile and shook her head. “Unca Ash!” she announced proudly, reaching to grasp Ashton’s index finger in her hand.

“But, Mia-sweets, Uncle Ash doesn’t sing. Uncle Cal does.”

“That’s what I said,” Luke told Calum with an eye roll. “Mike, how come you’re not more upset?”

Mike shrugged. “Kid’s got good taste. If she asked for me I’d be a little worried for her.”

“Mike, you sing fine,” Ashton said. “But, I think I might know why Mia likes my singing…”

“Oh, do tell,” Luke said with dramatic gesturing, complete with an eye roll.

“Y/N, how often did you play that tape we made when you were pregnant?”

“Like all the time, why?”

“Did you ever listen to it yourself?”

“No. I just played it for Mia. Why? Where is this going?”

“Oh, fuck you!” Luke screeched at Ashton in realization. “You sang her lullabies, didn’t you! When you watched her!”

“I tried to read to her. I knew singing was your thing. She didn’t want that. What was I supposed to do? Tell her no?” Ashton fought back.

“You fuckin’ idiot! We were all singing on the tape! She knew your voice!”

“Of course she knows my voice! I’m her uncle, you dumbass!”

“Did you ever sing to her before the night you watched her so we could have date night?”

“No, of course not.”

“And she never had a problem with me singing to her until then. Do you know why?!”

“Because of the tape, dumbass! That’s what I was getting at!”

“Because of the tape! Y/N played it for Mia on repeat her entire pregnancy. She recognized your damn singing!”

“Unca Ash sing pretty,” Mia chirped, not sure why the her dad and uncle were being so loud.

“Princess,” Luke groaned, scooping his daughter into his arms. “Don’t you want Daddy to sing?”

“Unca Ash!”

“Mia baby,” you interjected softly. “You’re making Daddy sad. He wants to sing for you.”

Mia gasped, her little mouth making an ‘o’ shape. “Daddy no sad! Daddy sing! Uncas sing!”

“Everybody sings?” Luke asked.

Mia nodded happily. “Sing!”

“See, mate? Told ya she’d come back around,” Ashton told Luke, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“I’m still mad at you, you giant don’t stop.”

“Giant don’t stop!” Calum and Mike started to snicker again.

All was right in the world back in the Hemmings household that night when Luke sang his princess to sleep for the first time in three weeks.

~~~

Tag List (Leave a message at the beep)

@goeatsomelife​ @flameraine​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @cxddlyash​ @1-irwin-94​ @baldcalum​ @sparkling-chaos​ @tea4sykes​ @youngblood199456​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​

[ivyglow]

Hostage - Jack Eichel | Buffalo Sabres

a/n: Sooooo I took too long to finish this piece, I'm kinda happy with what it turned out and I hope you guys like it. Again, a huge shout out to Naty who proofreaded everything, thank you @tsarinablogs !!! ❤️

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cursing; mention of toxic relationships.

note2: there is a note at the end of the piece. Please read it!! :) thanks. Oh- and you guys can read it listening to Hostage by Billie Eilish or Figures by Jessie Reyez.

Prompt: #11 ”we’re not just friends, and you known it!”

Do you know the line of really good friends but not enough to become best friends? Well, this line was something between Y/n and Jack. They were introduced to each other by a mutual friend and since day one they got along pretty well. He was funny and so was she. As time went by, the hangouts started to involve only the two of them, Jack always stopping by her house to talk, y/n always waiting to have dinner with him and so on. Maybe being able to draw the line was the main reason why Jack suggested what he did and why y/n accepted it. She liked him, more than a friend, but they were not close enough to become best friends and so things wouldn’t be messy if the deal did not work. 

“How was he?” Jack asks while sipping his juice and looking at the TV screen. “I don’t know, he was ok, I mean we liked each other, but there wasn’t this kind of chemistry.” She murmurs, trying to bring back the memories of her first boyfriend. The topic was caused by a scene of the movie about two best friends becoming each other’s first relationship. 

“Do I look like him?” he asks out of the blue, and she adjusts herself, trying to take a better look at his face as he fails to hide the thoughtfulness in his eyes.

“Why do you want to know?” 

“I don’t know..just thinking if maybe you have a type” Jack jokes and y/n puffs the air out of her lungs, while drawing one of her fingers to his face to trail the sharp of his jawline. This close, looking from this angle, laying just like this, he looked like one of the many busts she was studying last week. So methodicly sculptured, sharp jaw, perfect mouth, like it was a work of art with so much mathematics involved, chasing perfection. 

But the thing is: Jack wasn’t a sculpture at all. He was a human being and taking into consideration her beliefs his face was not created by science.

“He had short hair…,” it passes through her lips while still tracing his features, “the kind you can’t even thread through your fingers. And he wasn’t as funny, but he was loud and I thought it was sweet. He wasn’t into arts or movies in general, but, still, I liked him.” 

“So, we’re pretty much different…” he concludes and she shakes her head.

“Even if he had your height, or identical hair, or eyes, you guys would never ever look alike.” Her voice was abruptly deep.

“He had zero empathy with my feelings…” she confesses, it took her so long to realize it, took many breakups until she realized the blame wasn’t on her. “I don’t know how to describe the way he made me feel guilty about my own decisions and…” Jack could not do the same, right?

In fact, she felt deeper when it came to Jack, and so it could indicate that once he hurt her, it would be way worse, but he would not, right?

The hockey player did not press her to keep talking, actually, he didn’t want to talk about the subject, didn’t want to imagine someone as good as y/n being hurt, so he just started curling a random strand of her hair on his finger and shifting his attention back to the TV. 

…

It comes as no surprise that y/n was friends with almost the whole Buffalo Sabres’ team, she would go to every possible game and be able to talk about anything with them. So when they won and went to celebrate, of course she was there, excited to hug all of her friends and make some sassy comments about their game. 

“Wayne!!!!!” y/n squeals to the tall black man in front of her. “That pass was amazing, damn!” 

“You liked it?! Sam almost killed me, saying it was a dangerous move, ugh” he engulfs her small body in his large frame.

“It was not that bad, but mine was better..” Dominik stumbled in the talk putting his arm around y/n’s shoulders. 

“Dom!!! Your game was not that bad today” she jokes standing in her tiptoes to give him a kiss in the cheek.

“What an insane game, I don’t know if I can celebrate properly, there’s so much adrenaline still…” he says while leaning in the bar bringing his friend’s body with. 

“Ooooh, baby’s want to go home?!” Wayne pokes his side and the three of them laugh. 

“By the way, where’s Jack?” y/n asks, already missing his curls and sense of humor. 

She’s not the type of person who gets attached in a way that creates codependency, usually, she’s chill, but somehow with Jack, there’s this constant desire of being close, hold hands, hear his voice or at least know he’s thinking about her too. 

But it’s not something she verbalizes, it’s one of the many things she keeps to herself, scared of scaring him, she prefers to let her feelings eat her inside than share it with him and create the slight possibility of an end of their affair. 

“Hmmm...he’s...I think…” Waynes seems a little stressed to answer and when Dominik squeezes her shoulders she knows something is wrong. “What’s up, guys?” 

Y/n turns to the left-winger player holding her and before she could press him to say something, there’s a loud commotion on one table close to them. The table of the players. The table where Jack just arrived with a girl hanging by his side. 

He’s holding her by the waist, hands a little bit lower and bodies too close together. There’s this flush on his cheeks matching the visible bruise in his neck, none of them are from the game and y/n knows it the second her eyes caught it. 

“Oh-” it’s the only sound she is able to make even though she wanted to say to both boys around her that it was okay, that her and Jack were just friends who sometimes happens to kiss and have sex, and share movie nights, and hold hands at private parties, and sleep together when the night feels lonely. Nothing more, just friends after all.

“Just ignore him, sweetheart” Wayne is not trying to defend his friend and it shows.

Her eyelids feel heavy and her breath caught in her throat like she just swallowed the slice of lemon in her cup. When it feels like her knees are giving it, the drink is not to blame this time. 

“I’m okay” she whispers.

She can almost hear the voice of her girlfriends, telling her to let Jack go.

Oh, but boy, was she a stubborn girl. 

The trio keeps talking and eventually, some other players and their girlfriends join the conversation. Jack and the girl make out for a few minutes and when he leaves the table to get a drink on the bar, he just smiles at y/n like nothing ever happened. 

That night, unlike Jack, she went home alone and cried herself to sleep.

…

It was a Thursday afternoon, one week after the club incident, she had just arrived from class and was filling in her bullet journal, before taking a bath and starting to do her work. Today was a productive day, easily so, her mind was not focused on thinking about Jack or trying to figure out how to talk to him, what to tell him and how hurt she was. Y/n and Clarice, her best friend, went to study at the library. And being the social butterfly that she was, Clarice invited some other friends, one of them was this brunette boy from one of her classes and for the first time they talked about things other than university and due dates. He was a pretty nice guy and they exchanged numbers at the end of the study session.

Even though she had to constantly brush Jack off her mind, it was actually nice to enjoy someone else’s company and feel wanted.

The knocks on her door startled her and y/n left the bedroom, walking straight to the living room, asking herself who it could be.

“Eichel?” she furrowed her brows. It’s like someone punched her right into the chest and for some seconds the air seems far away from her body. 

“Hey, I was just a little worried, you didn’t text me or anything…” he rocks back and forth in his heels a little stunned since she didn’t give space to him to get inside. 

“I was...busy” the words ‘I’m sorry’ almost slipped through her lips. 

“You’re free now?” he furrows his brows and y/n sighs lowly. “I actually got some stuff from university to do...if you don’t mind” the last part is said once his face drops a little. No one would have noticed, but she did because she knew his features like no one else. 

“I don’t...I could use some Netflix and chill and keep you company?!” his lips are stretched into a small smile, the one he usually does when he’s suggesting something and he’s not sure the person is open to it. The one he does every time he fucks up, like he did the other week. The one that usually comes with the big blue eyes staring deep into her soul. The one that always is able to make her give up.

And this time is no different.

She steps aside giving him room to get inside.

“I’ll be in my room, I need some silence to work on this assignment” it’s her best strategy to avoid him or at least be able to have some minutes of productivity. 

“Oh, I’ll be on my phone then,” he smiles, big this time. “You won’t even notice I’m in the same room.” he tries for a light joke but somehow it punches her right in the gut.

It was impossible for him to go unnoticed. At least in her world. He was so close to the center of it that sometimes she asked herself if he wasn’t the sun. 

Well, in this solar system he was the sun and she was mercury, too close, almost melting, unable to receive others. He was the closest she could ever have and cold? She never felt it.

Jack made himself comfortable on her bed while she typed away on her laptop. Or tried to type away, because once or twice he would giggle to his cell phone or get up to get water or whatever. 

“Can you please stop?!” she asked abruptly when it felt impossible to focus on her work.

“Sorryyyy” he smiles -big-, and turns his attention back to the phone. 

After half an hour and three pages, she gets up to pee and stretches her body. Jack was engulfed by his phone, typing eagerly and too distracted to notice she was walking past. Well, who could blame him?! Probably, any other person in his situation would be distracted too, it’s not every time that his hookups are open to send nudes in the normal chat - usually, they would go for Snapchat or something like that. 

“What the fuck?!” y/n stops in her tracks when her brain finally processes the image on the screen of his mobile. “Are you really sexting some random girl? In my house?!” 

“I’m not sexting, we were talking and she happened to send a picture asking my opinion…” 

“Of course, your opinion about how good her new bra looks!” her tone was angry covering how betrayed she felt.

‘Sis, he can’t even be named a cheater since you guys are not dating!’ this tiny voice inside her laughed at her feelings and remembered the bitter truth. 

“Hey, it’s not a big deal, ok?!” he rolls his eyes, suppressing the little smile in the corner of his lips. 

“It is a damn huge deal!” she almost screams. “You can’t be that blind, Jack!” 

“About what? I try my best to listen to you and do as you like and-”

“Oh my fucking god!” she grunts. “How do you pay attention to my feelings and try your best to listen to me after what you did last week?! And oh! That shit happened two months ago too and oh! I almost forgot every time you came up with a new shit that leaves me heartbroken and guess what?! You don’t come to talk to me about it, because you don’t even try to pretend that you fucking care with my feelings!” 

“Oh- what the hell, y/n?! What’s that outburst about?! Are you really fighting me like this because of a random nude?!” he left the bed, standing right in front of her. The phone forgotten on the mattress. 

“You don’t even get it, Jack…” she mutters, lips quivering.

“Well, then tell me and I will. We’re friends, y/n, we’re not supposed to have this kind of miscommunication-” 

“We’re not just friends and you know it!” her voice a few tenths louder. 

“And we’re not a couple either and you know it!” his voice is lower. Almost like he knew how deep that sentence could cut her heart.

‘See?! I told you!’ her gut screams inside her head, her own heart being the target of pity and laughs inside her. 

“Get out, Jack” y/n sights. 

“I’m just being hones-”

“GET OUT!” she screams, tired of his voice, tired of his cold heart, tired of him and most of all tired of how he made her feel. One minute in the top of the world and the other so low that rock bottom wouldn’t even live up to how she really felt.

Jack did not try to talk, or hug her, or say that he was wrong, maybe sorry?! He did nothing besides grabbing his phone and leave her house. 

The indifference kicking hard one more time in the same spot that was bruised: her heart. 

…

It’s been two weeks, Jack was on a road trip with the team and since the incident, he gave no signal of wanting to talk. So there was Clarice trying to make y/n realize that she deserved a lot more than someone like him.

“...And it feels like he’s the sun sometimes. I just feel cold and heartbroken now, you know?” Y/n grumbles laying on her bed and facing the ceiling.

“WhAT?!”

Clarice’s tone startles y/n.

“What?” she asks back.

“You can never ever make someone or something the sun of your system. It’s too dangerous, don’t you see it?!” 

She stays silent for some seconds trying to absorb her friend’s words.

“It’s not like I have a choice though…” the voice that left her mouth was a strangled one, hoarse from all the cry and scream-on-the-pillow-session.

“You do! We always do. We have a choice when we decide that we won’t take that bullshit anymore, we will focus on ourselves and nothing less. Nothing can be the center of your life, not an object, not a goal, not a person and even less so a relationship, cause once some of these things are gone?! You’re broken, too.”

Clarice gives her a sympathetic look before going for a hug, she knew that it was exactly what y/n was needing, to feel warm with anything other than Jack and eventually learn to feel it by herself.  

“I thought he was different…” she whispers.

“We all do, sweetie, we all do…” Clarice runs her fingers under y/n’s eyes trying to stop for some seconds the tears from falling. “But there’s this singer I really like and she says that it’s not our job to be someone else Karma. It’s not your job to fix him, you can help him with that, but first?! First, you need to heal yourself, we can’t lift others if we are on the ground as well.” 

Y/n took the rest of the day to rest and cry a fucking river, as Justin would say. Clarice was staying with her during the week since the two had a college assignment together and y/n could use some company. Especially if her company would make her laugh every possible time and help her with sad thoughts. Y/n spent more time with the boy from her class, Daniel and she was happy to receive all his memes and trash-talk always. 

It was almost midnight and she was deep in reading an article from college when her phone buzzed.

A message from Dominik. 

It was a picture of him holding a really colorful and big cup of drink. The team was probably celebrating one more win.

Dominik: guess the name of this drink?”

Dominik: I’m kidding, don’t.

Dominik: It’s actually ‘Y/N‘, you have the name of a drink here lol can you believe it?!” 

She giggled with her friend’s drunkenness and opened the photo again. He had this big smile, the one that makes your eyes almost close and his cheeks were red probably from the alcohol. In the background of the photo, however, there was a well-known figure laced with a girl.

Jack was kissing her and y/n wasn’t even surprised. She was hurt. 

He wasn’t different at all and she felt silly for believing it for so long. 

…

At the end of the week, when the team just landed in the city, y/n received a message from Jack.

Jack: Hey, just landed. Missing you like crazyyyy.

Jack: Can I go to your place?

Jack: we’re cool right?! 

She sighed. 

Some days without him and she was able to realize how fucked up things have been. 

She was considering a date with Daniel, her classmate, and hopefully this time Jack was not going to stop it, not like he did the other times when she tried to make the “not-exclusive” deal work for both of them. He would always show up at her house and keep her in her bed until it was too late to go out or say so much bullshit she would end up cancelling it. 

y/n: Come over, I need to talk indeed. 

She just started to realize she had been a hostage of a lot of things, college, some feelings from her childhood, her toxic family, etc. So it felt enough of playing the soft one if she was having the opportunity to stop being held against her will. 

It was twenty minutes before the knock on her door. 

He was there, smile in the corner of his lips, just like he would do after messing up. She was going to forgive him because she was trying to love herself enough and to carry hurt was a burden she was not going to put in her backpack. In fact, keep the bad feelings would only make it worse.

She smiled back, slightly, almost invisible. But he saw it, not because he knew her face as nobody did, but because he was paying attention like never before. 

“I missed you,” he mumbles entering the apartment. 

“I don’t wanna take too long, Jack. I just want to be honest with you.”

“If it is about th-”

“No. Please, let me...let me just finish ok?!” 

“Yeah, go ahead” he nodded.

“I don’t want to see you anymore. Not while I’m trying to heal. You can’t keep using me like that, can’t keep acting like I don’t have feelings, acting like seeing you in doubt did not kill me inside. I love you! You’re my friend, Jack, and that’s even worse cause it feels like I’m losing you twice. Just let me go, stop making my feelings hostage.”

“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” She sights. “But you did. And I’m sorry Jack, but looking at you right now – the only thing I can think of is that you look exactly like him…”

“Who?” he furrows his brows.

“My first boyfriend, the one I once told you would never look alike.”

“And you never told me why you thought we were so different…” 

“Because he didn’t care about me. He didn’t love me as much as I did and still, he kept me, I guess maybe because of the feeling of possessing someone, maybe afraid of loneliness…Still, he kept me hostage for long enough and I’m not letting you do the same.”

She handed him a box with some of his stuff that was at her place. 

It was the first step and it was a small one, but she was trying to leave the place and the people that made her feel worse. 

She was a hostage of a lot of things, some feelings from her childhood, her toxic family, Jack, but one by one, she was going to break the chains. It was enough of hurt and sorrow and madness, if she could stop being held against her will, she would.

.

note3: during this time and because of some events I realized I don't feel 100% ok writing about Jack, I decided to finish and publish this one in respect to the anon who asked (and I replied saying it was ok). So yeah, there's nothing about him in my inbox anymore and I just want to let you guys know that :) thanks.

[merryfortune]

Cuter with the Glasses On

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens

Ship: Nico/Romin

Word Count: 2.7k

Synopsis:  Romin is enlisted by Nico to help out with a photography competition as a model for her entry. The two bond from there.

  Flash after flash of the camera, Romin’s eyes were dazzled as she oscillated through various poses that she could strike. Some awkward, some sultry, some she hardly thought about, and others she thought way too much about. She simply wanted to do her best for Nico.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” she cried out at the top of her lungs, all but thrashing about where she stood, and she snapped one last photo for posterity in her frenzy. “I’ve definitely got some goods in here, thanks Kirishima.”

  “N-No problem.” Romin said, her hands behind her head, her elbows all stuck out, one leg popped. “C-Can I unfreeze now from this one?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah, totally.” Nico said and she flapped a hand about flippantly.

  “Thanks.” Romin replied and she sighed as she let her body slacken.

  Suddenly, her whole body ached and so did her eyes. She had definitely had enough screen time after this one, she thought and then she could swear that she could feel her phone burn a hole in her back pocket in spite for having such a thought.

  Nico, meanwhile, was completely oblivious to how Romin commiserated. She was too busy flicking through the photos that she had taken. It felt like she was going through them a dozen a second and she had easily taken hundreds of Romin. She made for such a good subject and then- yes!

  “Score!” Nico squealed to herself.

  “Huh?” Romin said and she wandered closer, her high heels feeling clunky underfoot as she peered around to look at the screen of Nico’s camera. “Did you take a good shot?”

  “Oh, absolutely, I did.” Nico enthusiastically replied. “This here? It’s the money shot. I’m definitely going to take home that prize.”

  Romin blushed. “Glad to be some help.”

  “Definitely, definitely.” Nico replied. “The lead guitarist of RoaRomin in my Junior Youth Photography Tournament entry? I’m a shoe-in.”

  Romin was suddenly less sure of if she was being complimented as a person or as an entity. But she tried not to let that get to her. Nico was an insensitive person, bit of a blunderer and a touch awkward, so she likely didn’t mean anything harmful by it, au contraie, she probably meant it as a compliment but still, Romin thinks to herself, it would be nice to be complimented as a person once a while.

  “Yeah, I only listened to you and your bandmates’ music recently. I’d heard it a couple times before, thought it was okay, maybe catchy, but I never sank my teeth into your discography ‘til now.” Nico explained. “See, when Chief handed me the flyer for the photography competition, I knew I had to go big or else I’d bust so I tried to look around. What’s big around here ‘cept for the man? No way I’m gonna support the censors and do something Goha Corp. themed so I looked for something else, and bingo-”

  Nico latched her camera back onto the lanyard around her neck, so she was free to use her hands. Both her hands. She held them up in rectangles to frame Romin between the slats of her fingers. She cocked a quirky smirk.

  “Who is bigger than the most famous girl in school?” Nico said.

  “Oh, uh. No one. I guess.” Romin said and Yuga did float briefly through her head but his prescence in the big scale of things did seem outweighed by her own thanks to RoaRomin. Nico cackled to herself and Romin perked up. Perhaps she was being complimented on her own merit and not anyone else’s. Nico shuffled in and unlatched her camera again, she seemed to love to fidget with it.

  Nico’s eyes flicked up towards Romin and she angled the camera towards Romin, too, she defensively put up half a hand over the screen to prevent the glare, “See, look at this one.” Nico said.  

  “Wow.” Romin gasped. “That looks better than most RoaRomin’s promotional material.”

  Nico was proud as punch to hear that. “Mama says to snap photographs of what you love the most, and I do love your guitar skills nowadays. Hey, have you considered modelling?”

  “Not yet. My agent wants to me to get a bit taller first since, you know. Only a few more inches, he said.” Romin replied.

  Nico nodded to herself. “Yeah, that makes sense.” she said. “You know, I might be really tall one day, I’ve got good genes. I’ll probably get a helluva growth spurt soon, you know?”

  “Really?” Romin blinked, a little intrigued by Nico’s declaration. “How tall are your parents?”

  “Papa’s six foot one and Mama’s about five foot three,” Nico replied, “I think,” she was chewing hard as she tried to imagine herself standing beside her parents in height order.

  Still, Romin gasped. “Wow, your Papa is really tall.” She exclaimed. “But your Mama sounds like she’s on the shorter side, are you sure you won’t be her height?”

  “I think I’ll be a little bit taller than her one day. Don’t people generally grow taller than their same gender parent?” Nico asked.

  “I suppose that’s true…” Romin murmured as she began to wonder about how tall she’ll ever get…

  “Not that it’ll matter much in family photos or anything, Papa makes everyone look tiny. Especially me.” Nico laughed.

  Romin laughed too. She could definitely imagine that. Some big, strong, tall father beside a nice-looking woman and of course their shaggy haired daughter. Still, she wondered who Nico’s parents were now and of course, she blurted out even her faintest wondering, “So how did your parents meet?”

  “I’m so glad you asked.” Nico all too quickly replied.

  Romin, however, was spooked by her zeal as she had been chastising herself for prying into Nico’s personal life.

  Nico excitedly clutched her camera and she grinned. “My Papa is a retired Duellist, he used to be really famous back in the day and now he’s not even yesterday’s news.” Nico laughed devilishly as she made that remark about her father but then she smiled an unexpectedly soft smile. “He was my Mama’s famous Duellist, see, my Mama is a photographer and a reporter, doing a really big story on my Papa was her first big break. It was this whole ordeal, like you wouldn’t believe. But they met through Mama’s work and have been inseparable since…”

  “That sounds like a movie.” Romin replied.

  “It should be.” Nico replied. “But they haven’t sold the rights yet. Only ‘cause I told ‘em to wait for me. I want to be the one to direct their love story.”

  Romin laughed but Nico looked really proud and sure of herself.

  “I want to be like Mama when I grow up.” she confessed.

  Romin’s heart fluttered and she smiled. “I’m sure you will be.” she said brightly. “And the first step will be winning that photography competition, yeah?”

  “Actually,” Nico began to snidely correct her, “the first step was getting my own camera to take photos with. The second step was joining the Newspaper Club, the third step was becoming the official photographer for the club, that one was easy since there’s only three of us… Now, the fourth step was publishing my first photo to the Seventh Elementary Newspaper, the fifth step was creating a good name for myself locally, and the sixth step was to cultivate my own personal gallery of photographs which I’m especially proud of.”

  Nico paused and she had a sudden gander at Romin’s face. She looked… just a little bit offended. Only a little bit. With how she seemed disappointed that Nico had gone and dashed her well wishes like that.

  “But you’re absolutely right,” Nico added without too much of a beat between, “winning that photography competition is the seventh step and the seventh step is just as important as the ones that came before it. And the ones that will come after it.”

  Romin smiled, confident that she could see Nico’s eighth step. “And the next step is winning the competition?” She offered a sympathetic, bemused smile, too.

  “You betcha!” Nico replied and she gave Romin a finger gun hand gesture.

  It was strange, but Romin couldn’t even see Nico’s eyes from behind those thick, trifocal glasses that she wore but she didn’t need to see her eyes to know that they would be unbelievably all lit up with enthusiasm and excitement.

  “Alright, I’m gonna go and head off to the clubroom so I can upload all these sweet pics of you and hit that submit button on my form but let me tell you, together, we’re gonna rock this comp.” Nico boasted.

  Romin grinned. “Heck yeah.”

  Nico held her hand out for a high five and Romin obliged her. Their hands met palm to palm and without thinking, they both locked onto each other, fingers intertwining and the like. Nico’s hand was just that bit bigger than hers, it was nice, even if her hands were a little rough because, unlike Romin, she didn’t moisturise religiously. And the moment lingered until it was fit to snap.  

  Nico gave a funny expression. “Okay, you can stop holding my hand now, Kirishima.”

  “O-Oh, yeah, totally, it’s just-” Romin panicked and she let go suddenly, “it’s just, er, we’re friends now, you can call me Romin, I don’t mind.”

  “I didn’t want to be too in your face.” Nico abruptly said back. “I’m the press and all.”

  “We’re friends, Nico,” Romin insisted, “I want you to see me as your equal. Not just your… journalistic inspiration.”

  Nico laughed at how earnest Romin was being, but it warmed her heart. She just didn’t know how to play off more serious feelings.

  “Well, it’s been great collaborating with you, Romin, my friend, but I gotta be goin’ now.” Nico said.

  “Yeah, well good luck, break a leg and all that.” Romin replied, friendly and totally casual.

  Nico smirked. “I don’t need luck.” she boasted.

  Romin could half envy that confidence. How nice it would be to go through life that sure of one’s self. It was certainly different.

  Nico made sure to secure her camera to her lanyard around her neck before throwing her head back to laugh. Confidence; assurance; somehow all these sorts of words paled before the might of whatever it was that Nico saw in herself and her talent. Romin barely felt that way about her guitar skills and she was in a popular, established band. If Nico could bottle that, she’d make millions…

  “Okay, well, see you later.” Romin said.

  “Yep, laters.” Nico nodded her head.

  Then, with all that fanfare, she finally strode off.

  Only to completely faceplant not even a second later.

  It felt as though it had happened in slow motion. Nico had twisted on her foot, took one step forward and her toe immediately made contact with some stray little pebble that neither girl had even noticed was there until this very moment. Nico screamed and Romin paled until she was paler than a page of the newspaper. Although, she was screeching too. Possibly even louder than Nico who was the one sailing through the air, primed for a really bad collision when she got there.

  Nico groaned when she went nose first to the ground. She was damn lucky when she pulled herself up and out of the grass that she hadn’t twisted, sprained, or broken anything. The worst she got was a minor bloody nose. She held her head and moaned as she came back up. Everything spun. Everything was so… blurry.

  Romin brought herself to her knees beside Nico, taking her hand to steady her, “I’m so sorry,” she said, “that is so not what I meant when I said break a leg.”

  “Ugh, I’m right. I’ve had worse falls…” she grumbled. “I won’t lie, I am a little bit clumsy. Too fast for my own feet.”

  Nico yanked her hand from Romin’s and she tried her best not to feel offended but then she got a proper look at Nico. Her glasses had been knocked off in the fall. Nico began to search for them, her hands snaking through the grass as she tried to find them. Romin, however, opted to be useless and just stare.

  All she could think was that… Nico looked a lot cuter with the glasses on. It kind of flustered, her to be honest. The difference in Nico’s face. She lost a lot of that bluster that Romin found endearing over all her quirks. Nico grumbled, eyes straining, barely open, as she searched the grass.

  “Oh, uh, do you want any help?” Romin asked.

  “It’d be nice.” Nico replied.

  Romin hummed to herself as she looked around. Her eyes skirted through the grass, only to catch something shiny. A glint of sunshine off glass and she reached forward, half crawling. Wow, she thought to herself, Nico’s glasses were quite heavy, she was surprised that they could be knocked off Nico’s face at all given their weight. She was careful with them as she came back down onto her calves where she knelt beside Nico who had, obviously, made very little progress in her hunt for her glasses.

  “Here you go.” Romin said, offering Nico’s glasses back to her.

  Nico’s hand flailed about but she eventually found her glasses. And also, Romin’s hand. She slid them back onto the haunches in which they ought to rest and flashed Romin a big smile.

  “Thanks again.” Nico said. “Ugh, we should probably get up.”

  “Y-Yeah.” Romin nervously laughed.

  With a huff and puff, the girls held onto each other’s hands and pulled one another to their feet. Romin dusted down her skirt and Nico barely gave herself a shake off.

  “So how do I look without my glasses?” Nico asked as she took a handkerchief out of her back pocket. “I’ve needed ‘em all my life. Papa says I have Mama’s eyes and Mama says the same thing, but they say it very differently.” She laughed at her private joke whilst cleaning up the mess of her bloody nose. It was good that it was only a very, very minor bleed.

  Romin gave a half-hearted snicker in regard to Nico’s private joke. She could suddenly imagine Nico being quite the chip off her mother’s block, all of a sudden, wearing the same or similar pairs of trifocal glasses. It was quite the vision.

  “I bet.” she said, half-heartedly, only to smile softly. “I think you look cuter with your glasses on.”

  “O-Oh,” Nico squeaked and she began to fuss with her fringe, “I don’t really care either way, I’m happy with how I look,” and then she started to pat down her capris as well and then straightened her jacket, “but its nice to hear that from someone as stylish and pretty as you, Romin.”

  “Thank you, Nico, that’s very kind of you to say.” Romin awkwardly replied, blushing. She averted her gaze and was very swift to change the topic of conversation because she thought Nico looked very trendy and low-key the way she was already, especially behind that fluffy fringe of hers, too. “But, um, is your camera alright? It’d suck if it got damaged.”

  Nico doubled checked her camera and smiled assuredly. “My baby is all good, don’t worry Romin. My – our? – win is still guaranteed. But, um, hey, we have drinks in the clubroom, wanna join me after all? Snacks, too.”

  “That sounds nice.” Romin said. Eyes alight, aflame, even, because she was a highly food motivated person.

  Nico chuckled. Together, she and Romin tottered off, perfectly safe and sound this time. Nico rambled about the specs of her camera and Romin happily listened, eager to learn something new but also definitely daydreaming of the types of snacks which might be hiding the Newspaper Club’s mini fridge that they had stashed in the back. Still, she was incredibly fond to think about again that Nico looked cuter with her glasses on but cutest when she was talking so animatedly about her one true passion. Yep, that was very cute.

[thebadohteco]

Impulse Purchases

While the Oasis Cartel was still a growing entity, East still had some work that needed done that couldn’t wait for adults to take jobs. In times like those he always made sure to utilize what he considered an untapped resource of Ul’dah, the street urchins. While the cartel only knew the masked entity of The Beast, and his identity as East O’hteco was reserved to the knowledge of The Bunny and Elysica, the street urchins he paid for odd jobs knew a mix of the two. East didn’t wear masks around the kids because he knew it scared them and he wanted to encourage that smart instinct of being afraid of masked people, but he also didn’t tell them his real name. They called him The Beast, and he called them Squirrels.

The Squirrels would be paid in gil for odd jobs every few days, usually running somewhere and counting how many people were at places or doing some menial labor task like collecting rocks for him. Some days he didn’t have actual work and just dropped by to hand out gil anyways; he remembered being hungry as a street urchin himself, and wanted to do what he could. He didn’t talk about the Squirrels to other members of the cartel, wanting to keep them as far away from risk as he could. He cared about the kids and he admitted it, but the concept would ruin the reputation of the rising drug lord.

Caring about them was what brought him to visit them all so soon after his wedding. Elysica and he were waiting on starting their honeymoon, wanting to save up more money before spending much of it again; it was all Elysica’s idea, but East knew he had put her through enough financial stress with the wedding itself. The Squirrels usually hung out at one of four certain spots in the city, so East never had a hard time finding them. The number of them would vary between some being sick, some being arrested, some working, or any number of reasons that he had come to expect would explain their absence; some just got taken away by parents or overly aggressive orphanages. Knowing they would vanish now and again had always prompted him to check in on who was around and who wasn’t, his mental list of them editing as needed. That checking is what drew his eye to Roaring Boulder’s bruised eye.

“Roaring, what’s wrong with your eye, lad?” East asked, beckoning the young boy over.

Roaring Boulder was near ten summers old, but as a Roegadyn that put him to nearly East’s full height and width. He still had the shyness of any child, and had always been softer than some others. Still, despite the shyness, Roaring Boulder made his way to East, trying to hide his eye somewhat.

“I, uh.... I don’t know,” Roaring Boulder replied with a murmured tone, clear that he was hiding something.

East smiled at the boy, gently pushing away some of his hair to better look at the eye. Roaring Boulder never recoiled from East’s hands, almost laying into them. The eye had been hit. East had received his fair share of black eyes growing up and could identify one easily. The bruising around the ridge, the bloodshot in the eye, and the slight misshapen aspect of his nose told East a story. Roaring Boulder had been hit by a very large fist, like the fist of a full grown Roegadyn. East bit the inside of his lip to prevent his frown from forming and clapped Roaring Boulder on the shoulder.

“Accidents happen, what can you say? How about I pay you to grab some ice, huh?” East asked, grinning at the boy.

The talk of work, and more importantly payment, always got the attention of the crowd. To East it was just a handful of gil, but to the urchins it was the difference of pain and dismal comfort which was all the difference to them. Their faces lit up and turned towards him. Conversations and games stopped. All ears were open to whatever he was willing to pay them for. East smirked, looking over the kids. He didn’t actually need ice, or any work done, but it would give them something to do and he knew ice could always be fun on a hot Ul’dahn day.

“You know the ice stalls that are around the city? I’ll pay you one gil per ice crystal, two for really bit crystals. You snatch them up and bring them here, and put them all in the tub that I’ll drag by. Sound good?” He asked, addressing the crowd now.

“What about three gil for a really, really big crystal?” One of the voices called back.

East laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, you scalpers. If it’s really, really big I’ll do three gil. Just remember to keep count so you get paid right. Now, get going.”

With a shout they were all off, rushing into the city. Some took to climbing buildings to avoid the guards, others ducked into thin alleyways that only their small bodies could manage. It was like watching water rush through the cracks of stone, finding all manner of ways, each more elaborate than the next. In a few moments East sat alone in the small alcove they had all been collected in. Some few personal belongings left behind, some toys. They had learned that East would stay there until some of the kids had returned to play look out for the stuff. They weren’t aware the measures that had required of East sometimes, but he didn’t like them being exposed to violence. They were just kids, most of them were orphans. Some of them, like Roaring Boulder, had parents. East wondered what sort of parent would let their child just live on the streets when they knew where they were. He figured The Beast would have to find out.

The kids had managed to bring a large haul of ice in, dumping it all into the tub that East had dragged over after some of the kids came back to play guard. East took his leave of the kids in the afternoon, leaving them to play in the tub of ice and enjoy the cooling sensations for the day. He returned without the kids’ knowledge about a bell after leaving them, this time dressed as The Beast. He kept to the rooftops, watching the kids from on high as they played and enjoyed their day; their hard earned gil had been spent on food and sweets. He was content to just watch, waiting until Roaring Boulder would leave for his house.

Late into the evening Roaring Boulder got up and left the crowd of urchins, followed by The Beast from the rooftops. Roaring Boulder’s parents lived in a rougher part of the city based on where he was headed, passing by some lunging drunks and lecherous eyes. The boy came to a stop in front of a small house, less run down than East had expected it to be given the stories he had heard the boy tell. Roaring Boulder knocked on the door and waited, as did East. After a few ticks of no response Roaring Boulder knocked again, louder this time. This time the door opened, but Roaring Boulder wasn’t able to cross the threshold. A meaty fist hand came from inside the house, slapping Roaring Boulder across the cheek and sending him a few steps back. The door shut harshly as the boy landed. East could see the tears welling up in Roaring Boulder’s eyes, a hand coming over the part where he had been hit. He didn’t tarry long, pushing himself off the road and heading back the way he had come, presumably towards the urchins to take rest for the night there.

The Beast’s metal boots hit the ground a moment later as he lowered himself to the ground, ready to meet with the person connected to the meaty fist. He didn’t knock on the door like Roaring Boulder had done. One metal boot lifted into the air and kicked forward, breaking through the rotted wood of the door to lead The Beast into the home.

“What the?” A deep voice asked in shock.

The voice cut off as its owner turned to the The Beast, the large Roegadyn man blanching as he saw the katana blade pointed at him. East held the sword out towards the man, keeping him frozen in shock as he took in the home. The home wasn’t the home of someone well off, but by the decorations he could tell the owner was comfortable enough. Chairs and tables made of a solid wood, rooms without trash on the floor, clean linens over the bed’s thick mattress, and no smell of rot or spoiled meat in the air. It wasn’t posh, but it was an easy lifestyle for someone with a job and no child to care for. Knowing that the ease of the lifestyle came at the expense of Roaring Boulder’s comfort only made East’s blood boil more. He turned back to face the man, stepping forward and prodding him with the tip of his katana to drop him into a chair.

“A small boy came by a few ticks ago, you shoved him away from the house. Was that your son?” The Beast asked, masked face fixed forward on the shocked Roegadyn.

“What? I. Uh.” The man stammered on, eyes filling with confusion and then narrowing. “Who the fuck are you to be asking me questions after you just busted into my house?!” He roared in anger.

He rose up from his chair, foot coming forward as he moved to charge at The Beast. Given that the Roegadyn man was thrice the size of the masked swordsman it would be an easy fight for the Roegadyn. That reasoning is exactly why The Beast didn’t let the fight start. As soon as the man stood up and stepped forward The Beast’s arm swung down and lunged forward, driving the tip of his katana into the man’s boot and through his foot to the floorboards. The Beast’s other hand came up and shoved forward, hitting the man in the chest to drop him back into his chair. The man let out a yowl of pain that escaped more as a whisper as the air had been knocked out of him. 

“I won’t ask that question again,” The Beast said with a cautioning tone.

“Yes,” the man whimpered out, “yes, that’s my son.”

“Why doesn’t he live in here with you? Why is he sleeping on the streets?!” The Beast yelled so loud the voice disturber he wore screeched with a high frequency sound as it failed to translate all the yell.

“He just doesn’t! Gods, I need a cleric for my foot! Help! Someone help me!”

The Beast’s fist curled up and rocketed forward, armored fingers punching the man in the neck to silence any more screams. The answer had set off East’s anger more than the cries for help. The man admitted that Roaring Boulder was his son, but said he just didn’t live there. He didn’t care about the boy at all. East had always been able to say that at least his parents didn’t live around him growing up, they had abandoned him and his sisters to the streets they didn’t even live around. East didn’t even know where his parents were. Roaring Boulder did though. He knew where his father lived and came by enough to at least try and stay indoors. This man had made the choice daily to leave his son on the streets.

“Where is the boy’s mother?” The Beast asked.

“Don’t know. She left him on my doorstep after he was born. Never seen her since.” The man croaked out in barely more than a whisper.

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

The Beast planted his hand over the katana hilt and drove it down further into the ground, producing a new hoarse yell from the man.

“I told you I wouldn’t ask questions twice,” The Beast reminded him.

“Running Mountain! I’m Running Mountain!” The man screamed out loud as he could, which ended up just being a bare screech.

When East had entered into the home and seen the comfort that was being denied Roaring Boulder he had planned to just cut down the man then and there. Leave his body on the floor for neighbors to complain about until Brass Blades came to haul the body away. Each question the man answered had just driven on the thought of ending the wretched father’s life, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Pity for Running Mountain didn’t hold him back, East really didn’t care at all about this man. Thoughts of Roaring Boulder held him back. If Running Mountain were to die it didn’t help Roaring Boulder at all, it would only make things worse even as then the boy wouldn’t have those few nights of reprieve he got when his father decided to be a minimally decent person. East had come to the house without a plan but realized he needed one suddenly. He couldn’t just attack this man and leave, it wouldn’t do anything good and could possibly do a lot of bad. The anger he had been feeling was quickly being replaced with panic. He had acted too rashly. He could have endangered his operation with this. He had to come up with something to keep Running Mountain quiet and help Roaring Boulder.

“Today is your lucky day, Running Mountain,” The Beast said with a calm voice.

He stepped away from the room long enough to grab a towel, tossing it over his shoulder. Before The Beast could explain what it was for he yanked the katana out of the floor, wiping the blood from the blade with the towel, and sheathing it. He tossed the towel to Running Mountain and pointed at the wounded foot, nodding to him.

“Wrap your foot up and walk with me,” The Beast ordered as he moved to the broken doorway.

His plan was still coming together as he waited for Running Mountain to join him, or attack him again he knew either was possible, but he knew he had to appear as if he was still in control and calculated. He had to put on the persona of someone who hadn’t just recklessly charged into a home and attack the man. The problem was East usually took weeks or months to make his plans, to prepare and calculate for every variable he could. Making plans on the quick always ended up with trouble for him, but he couldn’t just stop now.

“Where... Where are we going?” Running Mountain asked as he limped up to The Beast.

“For a walk,” The Beast answered as he set out into the street. “Keep up or else,” he added as he crossed the threshold.

The Beast kept a normal pace for himself, which was thankfully matched easily by the wounded stride of a Roegadyn. His plan had mostly come together to where he at least knew where he was going, but he could tell he wasn’t thinking of everything. It would give Roaring Boulder his father and the comfort he deserved, along with comfort for the other urchin children. It would solve so many things in one move. Running Mountain didn’t make any sounds behind him other than grunts from walking on his wounded foot. East knew he would need to get it checked on soon or risk losing it, or worse, but he didn’t feel bad about the man experiencing some pain for a while. The pair stopped before an old chapel in Ul’dah that had been abandoned by its street gang after its owners had drowned inside their own meeting chambers. The Beast knew the place well and had kept an eye on it for his own plans that had apparently come to fruition.

“Tomorrow morning you will be very busy,” The Beast began as he laid out his plan to his prey turned accomplice. “You will come here and purchase this chapel from its current landowner, signing for it in your name and renaming it as ‘The Oasis Home for Wayward Youth’ or something like that. You’ll be acting as the caretaker for the children who will be coming by to move in at noon tomorrow, among them will be your son.”

Running Mountain turned an incredulous stare from the chapel to the masked man. “Are you fucking crazy? Why in the world am I going to do all of that?”

“Because, this is your chance to be a real father.” The Beast turned on the man, looking up into the confused eyes. “You’re only option is to either accept this second chance, or be killed right here. I know where you live, I know how to find you, and I will hunt you down if you try to run. This is your life now.”

“But. What. What about my house? My job?!”

“You’ll sell it and you’ll quit. Being the caretaker of an orphanage is a full time job and you’ll have to live here with the kids to keep an eye on them.”

“Why? They’re not my fucking kids. Why should I take care of them?”

“Because you couldn’t even take care of your one child, so naturally your second chance comes with more work. You should’ve been a better father the first time around, when there wasn’t the risk of your life on the line.”

“Well. What’s to stop me from going to the guards and turning you in?” Running Mountain asked with a smirk, as if he had caught the man.

“A masked man stormed into your house, stabbed your foot, then demanded you buy an orphanage and become its caretaker. Interesting story to give the Brass Blades. While they’re debating how drunk you had to be to imagine all of that happening, I’ll be waiting to cut you in half.”

Running Mountain gulped and looked back at the chapel, still squirming as he felt the pain in his foot receding as it started to go numb. He looked down to the masked man and bit his lip, trying to work out his options in his mind.

“Also, Running Mountain, given your history of abuse around children. You should know that I will be keeping an eye on them all. If I find any wounds or marks on them, you will die in a much worse way than me cutting you in half.”

“But they’re street rats! They get cuts and bruises all the time!”

“Then you had best keep them safe and cared for,” The Beast answered.

“How am I going to pay for all this? My house isn’t worth that much!”

“The cost for it all will be covered by myself. Every month an amount of gil will be brought to the orphanage, enough to cover food and whatever else the kids will need. When you’ve proven yourself a redeemed father you’ll even begin to get paid as well. I will have eyes kept on the place to keep it safe from parties that are too much for you to handle.”

“.... Why me? Why are you doing this?” Running Mountain asked, feeling his knees going weak.

“Because Roaring Boulder deserves a father, whether you want to be one or not,” The Beast answered calmly. “Tomorrow morning, right here. The landowner will be waiting with the paperwork needed. You will sign it, name it, and start cleaning it up. Go get your foot looked at before you have to lose it.”

He didn’t wait for any more questions or statements. The plan had been explained, and now it would be up to Running Mountain to accept it or die. He hoped for the former, but had met too many stubborn fools to not be ready for the latter.

The next day East O’hteco came by the chapel at noon, smiling to himself as he saw Roaring Boulder sitting on the stairway with a giant grin on his face. He could see through the somewhat cleaned windows of the place that other street urchins were running around inside, inspecting their new home. East had gone to see them all early in the morning, telling them to go find the chapel at noon. He was glad to see they had found an open space, and he hoped inside he would find a limping caretaker.

“Beast!” Roaring Boulder exclaimed as he caught site of East, running up to him. “It’s amazing! My dad is here! My dad is here and he said me and my friends are all going to be living here with him! Isn’t that great?!”

“Oh, wow. That’s really great buddy. Is he inside? I’d like to meet him,” East replied with a smile.

Roaring Boulder nodded and tore off inside faster than East had ever seen him run, and East had paid him to literally just run before. Roaring Boulder came back a few moments later with a much larger Roegadyn beside him. Running Mountain was sweaty, tired, and limping with a cane to support him. His eyes swept around the open area before the chapel with trepidation before focusing down on East with a quirked brow.

“Hail, stranger,” Running Mountain said cautiously, coming up to East. “What do you want?” The new persona as a caretaker wasn’t entirely set in yet, but he was nervously trying his best.

“Just a friend of the kids, come to check on them. I had heard there was a new orphanage opening up and I sent them over this morning, to be here at noon. Glad to see the rumors were true. I take it you’re the new caretaker?”

Running Mountain peered at the man, understanding coming to him quickly. “Yeah, I am. Just like.... Just like you said. I’m the caretaker.” He glanced down at Roaring Boulder who was nearly hugging his leg at this point. “Been too long avoiding being a father, and it was just the right time.”

“Sounds like you found the right motivation,” East said with a small nod to Running Mountain.

“Yeah, something like that,” Running Mountain replied with a gesture to his bandaged up foot. “It’s my calling, I guess you could say.”

“I would say that,” East answered.

The two men stood staring at one another for a long moment. East knew that Running Mountain was likely trying to figure out how to use the knowledge of what he looked like to his advantage, but he wasn’t worried. East O’hteco was just a helpful stranger to the kids, and he was a quicker blade than Running Mountain was a talker.

“What’s your name, stranger?” Running Mountain asked, quirking a brow to East.

“He’s The Beast!” Roaring Boulder replied before East could, nodding up to his father.

East saw the brief look of disdain cross Running Mountains eyes, but it died before he could look down a Roaring Boulder. The man just patted the boy’s shoulder gently, sighing.

“Say, Roaring. How about you go tell everyone I have some work for them, while you let your dad get back to setting the place up. Looks like you all need some beds and stuff,” East said with a bemused grin.

“Okay!” Roaring Boulder exclaimed as he ran back inside, still slower than when he had gone to get his dad.

“So, you’re the guy then?” Running Mountain asked the moment the two of them were alone.

“Guy? I’m just a friend of the kids, if that’s what you mean,” East answered.

“Cut the shit. You’re the masked guy that butchered my foot and made me do all of this shit. Just tell me that I’m good. Long as I do this, you don’t get kill me, right? I haven’t hit any of them. I swear. I’m just trying to. Just. Tell me.” Running Mountain stammered most of it, still in shock from the evening before and at having met his attacker again.

“Sounds like you had a really bad run in, bud, but looks like you came out alright in it. Place to stay, get to see your son more. I don’t know what life you had before your sudden change of heart, but looks like this is a life that you’ll live longer in.” East gave the threatening reminder calmly, smiling at the man. “Like I said, I’m just a friend of the kids. I care about them and like the idea of them having one place to stay all the time, with a roof and some food on the daily. I’ll still come by to give them work from time to time, but I’m sure you’ll find the gil you need to keep them all taken care of without me or other generous patrons.”

The kids came running out of the chapel in a horde. The older ones were mostly quietly, still wary about their sudden change of fortunes; they were too old to forget how bad the world could be when it looked good. The younger ones, like Roaring Boulder, were bundles of excitement; they were too young to remember that the world could be cruel at any moment, they just lived in the now. East hoped to keep them all in the now, where it was safe.

“So, new home. Looks like it could use some color. How about you all go get some flowers, huh? One gil per flower you bring back. Throw them around the place, get it all colorful, yeah?” East offered to the kids, nodding to them as they nodded back.

Without a word they were off, running into the city to find the flowers they had been hired to grab. East turned back to Running Mountain with a smile.

“The flowers will help with the musty smell too. The place had bad water damage in the basement I had heard, figure that must’ve been bad when you moved in,” East said.

“Yeah, there’s a vault or something down there. I took it as my room, figure it was the quietest place,” Running Mountain said with a shrug.

“Ah, good choice. Careful though, I hear that vault door can stick and lock you inside if you’re not careful. Be a bad way to go down, yeah?”

“.... Yeah,” Running Mountain replied back with an understanding nod.

“Well, don’t let me keep you from your work. I’m sure you’ve got bed to order and food to start on. How’s the kitchen in that place?” East asked, looking to the building slowly.

“Kitchen is in bad shape, I don’t know how much of it works. I got to take a look at the stove and all, but may have to do a wood fire for a bit. And yeah, I put some orders in this morning,” Running Mountain replied.

“You any good of a cook?” East asked.

“Yeah. I cooked for myself back.... Before this. Doing bigger dishes for some urchins shouldn’t be too bad,” Running Mountain answered with another sigh.

“Good. Sounds like you’re adapting fast. Smart too,” East said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Running Mountain said with a snort before limping back towards the chapel doors. He had work to do.

East waited outside the chapel for a long while, paying kids as they came with flowers to spread around their new home. He knew he’d have to keep an eye on the place for a while, to see that it was properly taken care of and that Running Mountain didn’t try to run out of his new job. It would be some work but it was worth it for seeing the kids taken care of, especially in a way where his name didn’t have to be tied to it. Just a random man who had a change of heart as to being a father and decided to go the extra malm. It was a heart warming story far as East was concerned. He’d make sure the story stayed that heart warming.

[b-afterhours]

Sympathy For The Devil (part 9)

summary: Set in 1978, Bill a young yet accomplish cop takes on the crime in New York City. Nervous yet excited to take on his first big task at his new department and prove himself. He soon finds out his partner is everything he had least expected.

warnings: strong language, mentions of sex acts, mentions of drugs, mentions of sexual assault

author’s note: one more chapter and the epilogue and we’re done! this one’s a bit long for the wait, enjoy! thanks for reading!

also if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

tags: @kikilikes @itsbillskarsgard @imaginingyournotsolikelyfuture @billieskars @bskarsgardfilth​

Bill and Star sat in the same interrogation room they first met for hours. Telling and retelling the accounts of Randi’s Thanksgiving party. They were even separated for a moment to be questioned individually. Bill waited right out the door of the room, pacing with his arms crossed until the detective on the case let him back in; looking a little peeved when their story never budged. Having to incriminate colleagues was something no one was happy about doing. Especially, since Stan was the co-director of the Criminal Informant Unit, it was almost unheard of to bust someone if his stature. Though with the information the department had gotten they couldn’t deny that Stan was up to no good and it was in their best interest to reprimand him for his actions.

Bill took a seat on the cold aluminum chair next to Star. She looked a little peeved herself as she smoked her cigarette.

“You alright?” He asked pulling a cig from his pack to join her.

“Yeah… assholes, you know?” She lightly shrugged. “How long are we gonna be here we didn’t do anything?”

“I heard them dispatch some deputies while I was waiting. They’re out looking for St — him.” He took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Jesus Christ…” she rubbed her forehead. “What if they don’t find him? You think… he’s looking for us?”

Bill contemplated that too but not wanting to worry her further he lied. “They’ll find him. He’s got, family… can’t see him leaving them behind?”

“Well, I didn’t see him as a murderer either.”

A loud, urgent knock on the door interrupted them. Jaime, the youngest secretary that worked at the station, peeked her head in. She was always very shy around Bill. So shy she avoided him at all costs if she could help it. And when she couldn’t she never made eye contact with him, instead, she’d timidly stare at her feet.

Jaime nervously cleared her throat. “Detective Simons said you two are free to go,” she said doing her best to lose the childlike tone her voice usually carried. “And also Ms.Patricia wants to see you, uh I mean, Mr. Skarsgård. She said it’s an emergency.”

“Emergency?” Star said softly, worried.

“Let’s see what’s up.” He sighed as he stood up. “Thank you, Jaime.” He said to her before she left.

Star held onto Bill’s arm as he led the way to see Pat. When he turned the corner he bumped right into her almost knocking her over. He steadied her, apologizing.

“Sheesh. What took Jaime so long?” She said patting her ruffled curls down. “It’s your apartment, Bill. A neighbor called about your cat roaming the hall when she noticed your door was wide open.”

“S-someone broke in?” Bill’s face fell.

“I-yes. There are some officers on their way over. Do you want to go to my place?” She leaned in to whisper. “I heard what’s going on… it’s not good hon’.”

“Shit…” Bill rubbed his face. “I have Star with me too.”

Pat glanced over at her and politely smiled. She definitely didn’t have room for an extra body. Especially for someone with such an astounding record as hers. She lived a quiet life and she’d like to keep it that way. Jaime came hustling her short legs towards Pat just then.

“There are officers at the hotel… the one you two were staying. Lieutenant thought quickly to send officers over after the call about your place Mr. Skarsgård. They caught Stan just before he left…”

“Oh thank fuckin’ god!” Star threw her hands up, relief washing over her.

“It wasn’t pretty. Apparently, he packed his car up and his wife and daughters were just a cryin’ mess in the back seat.” Jamie frowned.

“Goodness.” Pat clutched her large bosom. “Well if you still want to stay with me, Bill…” She said pointedly.

“It’s fine, Pat.” He said putting a hand on her shoulder, realizing the invitation wasn’t extending for Star. “But I think we’ll stay a minute. I think we deserve to see him walk in this place with cuffs.” He smiled. …

While they waited they raided the fridge in the break room. Eating the stale donuts from the morning while drinking other people cans of soda.

“You can stay with me,” Bill said with a full mouth. “I mean if you’ve got somewhere else to stay… that’s cool too?”

“Oh… I’ll find somewhere, I’m sure you’re sick of me.” She hopped up to sit on the counter. “Besides these last 24 hours have been a lot for both of us.”

“Sounds like you’re actually sick of me?” He lightly laughed.

Star side eyed him. “Not you. Just the partying and cops and shitty people.”

“I fall into the cop category…” He said leaning his side into the fridge right by her.

“You know what I mean,” she playfully rolled her eyes.

He smirked. “Star, you can stay with me. I have no problem with it.”

“I guess so…” she sighed. She really had nowhere to go anyway. “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can, alright?”

They heard a loud commotion and murmuring outside the break room. And when the yelling began they knew Stan had arrived. They slowly crept out the break room and stood close by the wall. Everyone in the station was visibly and clearly shocked to see Stan cuffed, ushered in by deputies. Jerry stood by his office door shaking his head in disappointment that one of his best men had fallen like this. Though to save his own ass he had no choice but to order his arrest.

Stan nearly walked passed Bill and Star without seeing them. He turned his head at the last second meeting Star’s smug smirk while Bill protectively had half his body in front of her. He lost it. He lunged towards them, his face beat red and twisted in ugly anger. The officers were quick to pull him back, yanking him by his arms.

“Fuck you two!” He spat at them before being roughly pushed along.

Everyone in the station gasped taking judgmental glances their way. After all, they were the cause of the unfolding drama before them. After it had passed everyone went back to their mundane work almost as if nothing had happened. Jerry called Bill and Star to his office before they had the chance to step out. They both wanted desperately to leave after everything but went under obligation.

“You know how fucked you made us look?” Jerry said when Bill closed the door. “Are you happy?”

“Happy? I’m just doing my job?” He argued, folding his arms. “And quite frankly, Stan set his own self up if you ask me? He found the one CI that knew the same people as he did to do it!”

“How was he supposed to know?” Jerry threw his hands out.

“Does it even matter?” Star piped up. “We did the job you asked! What more do you want?”

“Nothing!” Jerry seethed. “Here’s you’re fuckin’ check.” He threw the envelope on his desk.

“Don’t to talk to her like that, okay?” Bill said coming to her defense. “She’s right. We did our job, I don’t understand why we’re at fault? You need to check your own people.”

“I don’t need some Newark transfer tellin’ me how to run my station…” He glowered at Bill. It looked silly since he had to look up at him to do it. The height difference took the menacing edge off it. “Call me after the holidays, Bill.”

“Am I… Are you really firing me?” He said appalled, pointing at his chest.

“Technically, no. But I need some time to think on what I’m gonna have to do with you after this shit storm settles. You’ll still get your checks if you’re worried about that.”

Bill shook his head, the muscles in his jaw flexing. He wanted so desperately to curse at him. He huffed in anger and put a hand on Star’s back leading out. She turned her head to speak for Bill since was too upset to do so.

“You know, once the DEA comes through it’s your ass too! Coward!” She took it upon herself to slam the door behind them. …

Bill and Star didn’t speak another word about the events that happened that day. The sun had set when they stepped out of the station. They left the Pinto behind. Taking a cab, they gathered their things from the hotel. The clerks looking none too pleased with them when they left with their bags in hand. Once at Bill’s apartment they quickly went to work on cleaning. Stan had trashed the place in his insane fit of rage. Minx was safe yet skittish in the corner of his closet when Bill found her. The poor thing, he’d been gone for weeks and she’d even have to suffer in his consequences. Nothing was stolen which meant Stan knew by a hair that he was discovered. Most likely he was trying to off them too. It was an eerie feeling knowing that.

Star was just finishing with putting his records neatly back on his shelf. She swept up some of the broken pieces of records on the floor. Some of Bill’s favorite jazz music now just rubble in the trashcan. She excused herself to dress down in his room.

“Yeah… you hungry or something I can make some sandwiches?” Bill asked her before she shut the door.

“Sounds good,” she gave him a small smile.

Star closed the door behind her and for a minute she was all alone. She sighed loudly. Finally feeling the exhaustion from the past 24 hours settle into her bones. There was a lot to process and quite frankly she would rather forget everything. She stood in front of Bill’s full-length mirror looking at her nude body. The bruises she had gotten the other night darkened on her olive skin. She tilted her head and sighed at her appearance while her hand idly brushed the dark hair of her bush. Thinking about how she didn’t mean much and how she couldn’t get how anyone could really care for her at all. She pushed the thoughts aside and quickly put on her panties and her nightgown. Without thinking about it she slipped into Bill’s bed, her body relaxed in the comfort of the mattress. It felt better than any of the hotel beds she slept in over the weeks.

Bill lightly knocked on his bedroom door effortlessly balancing two plates in his other hand and had two glass coke bottles tucked under his arm. There was no reply on the other end and so he loudly announced he was coming in. He cautiously and slowly pushed the door open, when he peeked his head in Star was soundly asleep under the covers of his full sized bed. He sighed but he didn’t dare wake her. He was tired too. But also agonizingly hungry, at least with her being asleep, it meant he could have her sandwich too.

Bill sat down, his back flush with the headboard, after dressing into sweats and rested the plate on his lap as he sat next to the sleeping girl in his bed. He hadn’t had anyone over in his place like this. After spending so many nights with someone being there when he woke while working his undercover job he worried about when it ended. About how lonely he’d be, he was glad he convinced Star to stay with him. He glanced down at her and lightly pinched her button nose, closing her nostrils enough to annoy her in her sleep. He quickly pulled his hand away when she lightly stirred, incoherently mumbling under her breath. He stifled his laughter by taking a bite of his sandwich, he could easily get used to this. …

Star woke up the next morning alone. She could hear Motown tunes from the record player slithering in through the slightly opened bedroom door. Along with the sizzling of a frying pan from the kitchen. She laid in the warmth of the bed for a moment thinking about how she could still sleep for a few more hours before forcing herself out.

Bill was plating the eggs and bacon he made when Star emerged dressed for the day in a simple white tee shirt with red trim on the collar and sleeves and wide, bell bottom blue jeans. It was one of the outfits she had recently purchased but hadn’t worn yet.

“Good morning…” she said crossing her arms over her chest. She hardly wore bras but for some reason, she was feeling self-conscious about not having one on now.

“It’s almost noon,” Bill slightly chuckled. “But good morning. Just in time for breakfast.” He winked.

“You didn’t have to…” she said taking a seat in the small two-person dining table against the wall.

“You’re a guest in my place so stop while you’re ahead,” he said handing her a fork.

“I’m just sayin',” she rolled her eyes and took a playful chomp of her slice of bacon. “Any news from the station?”

��Nah, nothing,” he lightly shrugged.

“Are you gonna be okay… like with your job and stuff? What if you really do get fired?” She frowned.

“They can’t fire me. And if they make up some bullshit, I’ll just find another station to apply at, I guess. It’s New York City.” He shoveled a helping of scrambled eggs in his mouth.

Star nodded. “There’s always something going on in this town, huh?”

“Um, are you still trying to go to the beaches of Cali?” He raised a brow while he sipped his black coffee.

“That’s the plan… I was paid double in the last check. Should be enough to get there.”

“Just to get there?”

“I’ll find a job or something,” she was now realizing she hadn’t really thought the plan through. For a long time, it was just a motivational pipe dream. Now that it was a possibility it seemed very, unrealistic. “Anyway,” she changed the subject, “since we’re both out of job right now. What’s the plan for the day?”

“Well… I guess we can do whatever the hell we want now,” he smirked. “Got any ideas?”

Star thought for a moment as she chewed. “Mmm, Coney Island?”

“The boardwalk? ‘Cause parks closed after October?”

“Works for me.” …

The Coney Island Boardwalk was an hours travel in from Harlem to Brooklyn on the subway. Even with the theme park closed there was still plenty to do along the seaside. They had just spent hours in the arcade when they left to get some well-deserved coney’s from the iconic Nathan’s. They clutched on to their heavy coats while the chilly ocean breeze nipped at them. Star was looking at the photo booth pictures they took in the arcade laughing at their silly faces, in the last few shots, while Bill ordered.

“You should probably put this in your wallet for now,” she handed the photo strip to him. “I’ll lose it.” Bill smiled at the photos before putting them away.

There was a silent competition between the two on who could chow down on the most chili cheese dogs. Star maxed out at three while Bill beat her by three more. She sipped on her sugary lemonade shaking her head at Bill patting his bloated belly.

“That’s ridiculous,” she lightly laughed.

She looked out towards the beach, the sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow. It was only getting increasingly colder because of it. Bill looked at her profile and how her brown eyes were ablaze in the light. When she turned back to him he glanced away, confused and embarrassed at his thoughts.

“Should we head back to the city? Before it gets dark?” She asked not even noticing how he’d been admiring her.

“Good idea.” …

They stopped by, Otto’s, Bill’s local bar before going home. The night was still fairly young and a few cold beers before bed sounded delicious. Lloyd, the bartender, affectionately greeted Bill when he bent his head forward to walk in through the short front door.

“Where have you been, kid?” He said in a deep raspy voice absent mindedly handing off a few beers.

The place was a jumping little spot. People holding down all four of the quarter pool tables and even a few people were dancing by the jukebox. From what Star gathered everyone was a regular, everyone chatted with whomever in the place like a big party.

“Ah, just working hard Lloyd,” Bill said pulling out a stool for Star before taking a seat himself.

Lloyd’s eyes darted toward her and back at Bill. “And who’s the beauty?”

“Star.” She said for herself.

“Pleasure. You givin’ my boy a hard time?” He winked.

“You can ask him that when I’m not around,” she bantered back, earning a laugh from him.

“I like her,” he said to Bill wagging a finger at her. “So what’s it gonna be, kid? Jack?”

“And a shot of peach schnapps. Two drafts,” Bill said taking his wallet out.

“You come here a lot, huh?” Star said once Lloyd turned his back to get their drinks.

“First place I stopped at when I first moved here,” he smiled.

“I like it,” Star said nodding as she looked around the place.

“Did you have a good time today?” He asked. He was worried she didn’t. She had behaved as her usual self all day but he couldn’t help but notice that when she thought he wasn’t looking her mind was elsewhere. He thought, she must be thinking she’d rather be anywhere else that didn’t involve him. Lloyd quickly set their drinks down and went to help another customer right after.

“Of course! I beat your score on Space Invaders! I know you said you didn’t care but I saw your face,” she laughed. “I had a lovely day, I really did,” she assured patting his knee.

“I’ll toast to that,” he said slightly relieved. He picked his shot up and tapped glasses together. Without prompt, Star followed him in tapping the bottom to the bar and shooting it down in sync with him. “You know, we went through some shit the other day but at least we did the right thing.” He said handing her a cigarette.

“Duh! We did our damn job!” She took a drag.

“Yeah, but shit. I didn’t think I would have to bust my own superior. I wasn’t expecting that when I moved down here.”

“It’s New York City, B’. And your superior deserves to be in fuckin’ jail. Anyway, can we talk about anything else? We’re celebrating.”

“You’re right,” he said blowing smoke from his own cigarette.

“We have forever to think about it. But tonight is about us,” she held her beer up.

Around the time they were good and buzzed Bill was beckoned by a bar buddy, he was just as tall with a wavy blonde shag and a floral silk shirt half unbuttoned. He was wanting Bill to shoot a round of eight-ball, the legal kind he was familiar with. He hesitated, not wanting to leave Star out.

“Go. I can watch,” she nudged him.

She sat by the pool table while Tom – Bill’s bar buddy – racked the balls up and Bill came over with another round of drinks.

“How ‘bout we let the little lady break our balls for us,” Tom playfully joked, holding out his pool stick for her.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said happily, jumping off her stool.

She passed off her cigarette to Bill which he took a drag from. He watched with Tom as she leaned her body forward on the table, lining the stick and her sight to hit the diamond racked balls.

“Shit, Bill… where’d you find her?” Tom commented under his breath as he checked out her ass in the tight jeans she wore. Bill dismissed the comment and distracted himself from the view by taking a casual sip of his beer.

Star tugged the stick back a few times before pulling all the way back. She hit the cue ball with such force, that it threw Bill off for a second, almost causing him to choke on his beverage.

“Is that good enough?” She said genuinely unsure.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Tom approvingly kissing his fingertips.

In the middle of the game, Bill reached in his pocket for change so that Star could play something on the jukebox. “Play something good.”

“Something less depressing!” Tom hollered.

“Marvin Gaye isn’t depressing, man.”

She heard Bill say as she walked away. She sauntered over, weaving between bar patrons to the brightly lit jukebox. She stood there flipping through options being indecisive and picky. Finally, he settled on Rich Girl by Hall & Oats. Luckily, the box was just playing on its own, so the tune came on immediately to her delighted surprise. She walked back nodding her head along to the beat.

Tom began singing along loudly as he hit the seven ball in a pocket. “’Bout to get your ass kicked, Billie Boy.” He said missing the eight ball shot which made Star giggle. “Yeah, yeah,” he said slightly embarrassed. “He’s still gotta make it in to beat me.”

Bill picked the pocket for the eight-ball and swiftly sunk it, flashing a winning smile at Tom. Star clapped proudly. They had a few more beers on Tom’s losing dime before taking off. Bill walked in the apartment with Star holding onto him for balance, laughing loudly. She hugged him tightly in the middle of the living room, settling her body into his. She wanted to stay still with him. She pictured her in his arms, vines growing up their legs, weaving around their bodies locking them close. Still. Together. To just be with him if nothing else was a nice thought to her but she knew it wasn’t realistic. She quickly let go of him parting to get dressed for bed. She hadn’t had a nice day like this with good company in quite literally forever. It was nice. She could get used to many more days like it if she’d let herself.

PART TEN: finale

[filmfanatic82]

Anything (Chapter 3)

Link to AO3 (HERE)

“Hey Billy. You’ve got a minute?” Trini drops her backpack next to Billy on the library table and takes a seat.

Billy glances down at his watch and then back up at Trini with a smile. “I’ve got 36 minutes. Well, technically 41 if I choose not to go to my locker before Calculus. I don’t have my textbook with me, but Ms. Rivers only references it on days when she hasn’t gotten enough sleep. Which are usually Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today’s a Wednesday, so I should be--”

“Billy.”

“Right. Sorry. Yes, I have a minute.” Billy goes about adjusting and readjusting his colored pencils in order of height while actively avoiding eye contact with Trini.

Most people would take this act as being anti-social, but Trini knows better. This is just how Billy operates. 

Normal, every day social interactions, like a friendly pat on the shoulder or maintain eye contact while talking to someone, are painfully difficult for Billy to comprehend, let alone act upon.

And on some, deep-seeded level, Trini can relate. Not because she’s on the spectrum herself, but because she knows first hand how hard it can be to constantly try and “fit in”.  

“I saw something. Last night at the quarry. A strange flash of green light. Right near the entrance of the ship.”

Billy abruptly stops adjusting his pencils and glances up at Trini with slight confusion. “What type of light?”

“Huh?”

“You said flash of light. But what type was it? Was it like a firework? Or more like a laser beam? Or a neon--”

“A green mist cloud, maybe? Kinda like something you’d see at a concert,” Trini responds, cutting Billy off.

Billy nods and takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought. “That’s really peculiar.”

“Right. Check. Freakin’ strange. So, what could it be?”

“It could be a multitude of things. I can’t say for certain, though, until I investigate.” Billy takes another pause as his brain navigates through his train of thought. “I can go early before training today. I’m supposed to meet up with Jason at Krispy Kreme at 3pm but can tell him to meet me at the quarry instead. Oh wait… That means we won’t be able to get our usual--”

“I’ll pick up yours and Jason’s usuals and bring them with me.”

A genuine smile spreads across Billy’s face. “That will work, then. Thanks Trini.”

“No prob, man.”

Trini goes to get up from the table, but as she does, she notices Billy staring at her with a somewhat conflicted look upon his face. There’s something more… Something he wants to ask but can’t seem to bring himself to willing do so.

“Billy, do you want to ask me somethin’? 

Billy manages to nod his head, but still doesn’t say a word. He picks up the pace on his compulsive pencil adjusting, as his internal debate wages on

“It’s all good. You can ask me whatever.” Trini offers up with a warm smile. She sits back down and waits for Billy to respond.

Trini usually isn’t one for patience, but with Billy, she’s more than happy to wait all day if needed. She has a permanent soft spot in her heart for him. 

Finally--

“Are you and Kimberly in a fight?”

“No. Why would you--”

“Because I was over at Jason’s house last night for our weekly 80’s horror movie night and Kimberly showed up unannounced. She wouldn’t say what was wrong but then her and Jason went into the kitchen to talk. I wasn’t trying to listen in on their conversation but I really needed to get more popcorn. Jason makes this really amazing popcorn with truffle oil. I always try not to eat the entire bowl, but I can’t help it and--”

“Billy.” 

“Right. Sorry. Kimberly. She was in the kitchen crying and I heard her mention your name a few times. Jason tried to comfort her but she did seem to calm down. Not even when he hugged her.”

“I’m an idiot,” Trini mutters to herself. She runs her hands through her hair and lets out heavy sigh.

Trini knows exactly why Kimberly was crying last night in Jason Scott’s kitchen.

Because, once again, she has let her two most hated friends -- Self-doubt and Fear -- dictate her actions.

“No your not. We have Calculus together and you’re extremely smart. Mr. Brick even said so last Thursday when he handed back our tests.”

Trini can’t help but chuckle at Billy’s beyond honest reply. “Thanks Billy.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“Catch ya, later.” Trini once again gets up from the table, slings her backpack over her shoulder, and with a new found resolution, takes off out of the library.

Trini knows what she needs to do… She needs to talk to talk to Kimberly.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini moves against the flow of students with a fierce determination like none other.

Most days, she tends to take her time, enjoying every last second of freedom before enduring yet another 45 minute snooze fest. But today is different. Today she needs to get to Bio and fast. 

“Get to Bio. Grab seat near Kimberly. Apologize for being such an idiot.” Trini’s internal voice runs through her gameplan… and again… and again. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be enough time to truly talk things out -- there’s never seems to be enough time when it comes Kimberly -- But at least this would be a step in the right direction. 

Trini picks up her pace, playing human frogger between the pockets of students.

She knows she’s pushing the fine line between moving at a human vs superhuman like pace, but doesn’t care. The quicker she moves, the more time she has to make things right with Kimberly. 

Trini rounds the corner to a connecting hallways, and suddenly comes to a crashing halt. 

There, only fifteen feet away, stands Kimberly, back up against the lockers with some ponytail clad, neanderthal looking, man-child leaning next to her, encroaching in on her personal space. The two are deeply engaged in a conversation, completely oblivious to the world around them. 

And then, like a second punch to the gut, Trini realizes that she knows exactly who the man-child is. It’s Tommy Oliver. The one who practically took Jason’s shoulder off in the hallway a few days earlier. The rude ass jerk, who didn’t even bother to stop, let alone apologize. 

An overwhelming sense of disappointment washes over Trini as she stands there frozen in her tracks, just watching Tommy and Kimberly talk.

Change of plans.

Who’s she kidding? There’s no need to “talk” to Kimberly. Clearly, Kimberly is 100% fine.

Sure, Kimberly might have been a little bit upset last night, but now she’s chatting away with Tommy like she doesn’t have a one single freakin’ care in the entire world. 

Not wanting to stay there another moment longer, Trini backtracks her way down the other hallway and straight through the double doors leading to the courtyard. 

Fuck Bio.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

“Hey Crazy Girl. Room for one more?” Zack calls up to Trini from the bottom of the bleachers.

Trini straightens up a bit, slides her headphones off of her ears and gives a half-hearted shrug. “Free country.”

Busted.

Trini knows that camping out at the top of the bleachers isn’t the most stealthy of places to hide out, but at least it’s better than being confined to a classroom.

Zack bounds up the bleachers steps, taking them two at once, reaching Trini in a record time. He plops himself down next to her and stretches out his lengthy limbs in every direction.

“No Bio?” 

“Nope.”

They sit side by side in silence for a few moments, just taking in the football field and track below them. Neither one making any sort of effort to talk at all. 

Then, out of nowhere, Zack swiftly reaches across Trini and snatches up her cell phone from the nearby bench.

“Hey!” Trini lunges after her phone, but it’s of little use. Zack’s already two steps ahead of her.

Zack holds Trini at bay with one of his arms, while using his other to unlock the phone.

“Ha! Knew it. Not broken. Jason so owes me $20.”

“Give it back, fucker,” Trini growls with a burst of sudden anger. She grabs hold of his arm and in one fell swoop twists it behind his back, bending it at a painfully awkward angle.

“Owe. Jesus. No need to get your tiny ass, boxer briefs in bunch. Here.” Zack hands the phone back over to Trini.

Trini instantly releases her death grip on Zack and then shoves her phone into her pocket. “Ass.”

“What? Me? Never.” Zack mocks a stunned expression mixed with his cheesy yet lovable smile.

The comfortable silence creeps back in between the two of them again and for a moment, they both embrace it. Just co-existing with each other in the same space. 

“You oughta talk to her. Before you seriously fuck it up.”

“What if I can’t?” Trini quietly replies in a voice barely above a whisper. She compulsively fidgets with a few stray strands on the rip knee of her jeans while avoiding eye contact with Zack. “What if she doesn’t feel--”

“Stop over thinkin’ it. I told ya already. That girl’s head of heels for you.”

 “But--”

“No butts. Talk to her. Or I’m gonna do it for ya.”

“You wouldn’t…” Trini searches Zack’s face, trying to call his bluff, but deep down she knows that he’s telling the truth. “I’ll rip your fuckin’ arms off and use them to beat your ass to death. 

Zack just laughs in response. He reaches over and playfully ruffles Trini’s hair in an annoying big brother sorta way. “Talk to your girl.”

With that, Zack gets up from the bleachers, shoves his hands into his pockets, and starts to make his way back on down the steps.

“She’s not my girl,” Trini yells back at him with a noticeable level of uncertainty to her voice. Almost, as if, the comment is more to remind herself than anything else. 

“Not yet,” Zack simply replies with an all knowing smirk.

God, Trini loves and hates that boy.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini has been wandering around Angel Grove, somewhat aimlessly, ever since Zack left her on the bleachers a few hours ago. She knows that she should’ve just gone back inside and finished out the rest of the day after the end of Bio, but something deep down inside, prevented her from doing so.

The neighborhood park next to the school. The movie theater on main street. The woods by the quarry. And even the local Krispy Kreme not once, but twice.

From the dull but steady throbbing in her feet, Trini is sure that she’s managed to walk at least a good ten or so mile by now. More than she’s ever willingly walked before and yet, it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Trini comes to an intersection and takes a momentary pause, trying to figure out which direction to go in next. She fishes her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. 

4:45pm. 

Roughly a little over an hour until Trini has to be home for dinner. She could push it to later if she gives her mom a heads up… but that would mean engaging with her mom… Which would only open the question floodgates… Which would lead to multiple Kimberly related ones…

Kimberly.

“What am I doing?” Trini mutters under her breath to herself. Without another moment’s hesitation, she unlocks her phone and starts rapid-fire texting.

SaberToothTrini: Hey. You home?

Trini hits send and holds her breath. Within a matter of milliseconds, seconds the texting dots appear.

PinkPrincess: Yeah. Y?

SaberToothTrini: Can I come over?  

Trini holds her breath again and this time, closes her eyes as well for good measure. She has no reason to believe that Kimberly won’t respond, and yet, there’s still a lingering doubt that she just can’t shake.

BUZZ.

Trini’s eyes snap back open and look at the screen. 

PinkPrincess: I’d really like that.

A small smile crawls across Trini’s lips as she re-reads the text.

It’s just four words…

But, regardless, it’s reassurance.    

SaberToothTrini: Be there in five. 

Trini puts her phone back into her pocket and starts to take off down the sidewalk, at a breakneck speed. She keeps this up for a few seconds, but then suddenly slows down, once again coming to a halt. 

Something isn’t right.

Trini cautiously does a quick 360, scanning her surroundings. Not a single soul in sight.

But that doesn’t matter…

Someone is watching her. Someone that doesn’t want to be seen.

And this singular realization sends a slight chill down Trini’s spine. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket wraps it tighter around her body, in a half-ditch attempt to create a shield between herself and whoever is out there and then continues on at an even faster pace. 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

“Hey.” Trini finishes hoisting herself through Kimberly’s bedroom window, landing on the coral carpeting with a not so graceful thud.

Kimberly puts down her textbook and sits up a bit on her bed. She greets Trini with a hesitant smile but it doesn’t seem to fully reach her eyes. There’s an underlying sadness there that’s downright heartbreaking at best.

Shit.

That look hits Trini like a ton of bricks. She’s really fucked it up this time. And not in just a “I’m in a shitty mood and am being a major prick for no good reason” sorta way.

“You could’ve used the front door. My parents won’t be home for another three hours.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Trini shrugs with a bit of a forced smirk.

Trini’s heart screams out to move closer to Kimberly but her feet are glued to the floor. She’s absolutely paralyzed. All Trini can manage to do is breathe.

“You weren’t in Bio today.”

“I skipped,” Trini huffs with a nervous exhale of breath. “Just kinda needed to clear my head.”

“Oh,” Kimberly replies in a voice barely above a whisper.

Trini’s head and heart engage an impromptu war with each other.

It’s killing her not to just go and wrap her arms around Kimberly. Just to hold her close and…

And what? Go deeper into that ever so familiar “are we friends or are we more” territory?

Trini’s been there before. Hell, she even has the t-shirt. Crushes on straight girls never work. It’s an undeniable fact.

“Look, I’m sorry. I--”

“Did I do something?” Kimberly blurts out, cutting Trini off. 

“Huh?”

“Did I do something? You know... to upset you? I mean, I don’t think I did. At least, not anything that I’m aware of. But you suddenly won’t return my texts or calls and then you didn’t show up to bio and… I dunno. It feels like I’ve done something wrong.” Kimberly picks at the edge of her pink and white comforter, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check.

Trini’s heart starts to crumble. She can feel it physically breaking open more and more with each and every beat. It’s beyond excruciating. Who would’ve known that this -- just standing here watching Kimberly second guess herself -- would be more painful than practically being burned alive in the cockpit of her Zord.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” Kimberly’s voice quivers on these words.

Fuck it. 

And just like that, Trini suddenly finds herself moving across the room. She takes a seat down on the edge of bed and before she has time to fully process what she’s doing, she leans in and kisses Kimberly.

Every last ounce of insecurity and doubt instantly melts away as Trini feels Kimberly relax into her lips and kiss her back.

It’s raw. And yet gentle. Laced with passionate. It’s so much more than just a kiss… no, it’s a prelude to what’s to come.

And god, Trini doesn’t want it to ever stop.

After what feels like an eternity, Kimberly pulls back out of the kiss, allowing the two of them to catch their breath. A slow, seductive smile crawls across her cherry lips as she locks eyes with Trini.

“Took you long enough.”

[ulyssesredux]

Hades

If not from the Coombe and were passing along the side of the face. Big protest march in Colorado-big trouble-which is working out just beautifully. I suppose, Mr Bloom said. She would marry another. The protesters in California were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag. He boycotted Bush 43 also because he believes that Crooked Hillary e-mail release today was so bad or foolish.

Strange feeling it would. I don't think so! They tell the press refuses to mention the incident in FL.

Young student.

—I know his face from the stage, didn't honor the pledge! Murder. This is happening!

Then knocked the blades lightly on the Apprentice, he traversed the dismal fields. Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my presidency. The nails, yes: gramophone. Yes.

—Who is that? —Excuse me, viciously attacked by Mr. Khan at the Democratic nomination if it wasn't broken already.

Well then Friday buried him. They wouldn't care about the bulletin. Come November 8, she's a dear girl. The love that kills.

He caressed his beard. Man's head found in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Cure for a month of Sundays. Kicked about like snuff at a wake. The body to be prayed over in Latin.

A poor lookout for terror and terrorists! Word is-RADICAL ISLAM! I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked Hillary called it CRAZY General Motors and Walmart for starting the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! Doubles them up perhaps to see if they want to hit Crazy Bernie, run. Charnelhouses.

But he has to do so? That's a fine old custom, he could see what he is dead, 400 injured. New York! I think: not sure. A thrush. Gloomy gardens then went by: one by one: gloomy houses. Mr Power said.

BIG rally in Chicago. Sorry, people want border security instead of sixteen. That last day idea. Due to the starving. The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions visited the Obama Administration from Gitmo, have to lose by going with me. —Louis Werner is touring her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at Mat Dillon's long ago!

Not arrived yet. Well, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him? Quietly, sure of his. Depends on where. We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! Gives you second wind. Dick Tivy. Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Mr Bloom unclasped his hands between his knees and, entering deftly, seated himself.

Poor boy! Don't you see—Are we late? Madame, Mr Power stepped in after him, curving his height with care. From day one I said that I had $35M of negative and phony media quoting people who are so touchy. Clinton answered email questions differently last night! James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. Wear the heart and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the world. You must laugh sometimes so better do it at first. —Who is that?

Too many in the world. But suppose now it did happen. Feel live warm beings near you. CLINTON 27. Toyota Motor said will build a great pioneer of air. That one day he will drop like a poisoned pup. Like Shakespeare's face. What she did was wrong! Looking forward to Governor Mike Pence has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris massacre, Salah Abdeslam, who is he now wants to take on China The pathetic new hit ad against me! He loves these kids, has totally sold out to Crooked Hillary speak. He looked behind through the slats of the many problems of poverty, violence and despair. —The grand canal, he said, it's the most dishonest person to be president. We are now so once were we.

Crooked Hillary Clinton will be remembered! He stepped out. Out on the brink, looping the bands round it.

The best obtainable. Obama too soft on Russia? My wife, Melania, will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing in the dark. By the holy Paul! Now I'd give a trifle to know who he is voting for Kasich who voted for NAFTA, a must! Why isn't President Obama is the sacred figure, Not a bloody bit like the CNN, ABC, NBC polls in the eye of the sidedoors into the U.S. #NeverTrump is never more.

I thought it would be. He's as bad as old Antonio. Busy week planned with a guy who likes me Watched Crooked Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell but the system is broken! He pulled the door of the others go under in his fight against ISIS.

Vain in her then.

Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado. North Carolina. Drop out LYIN' Ted. Besides how could you remember everybody? Unbelievable evening. —After you, Mr Power added. I'll tickle his catastrophe, believe you me. Tremendous support except for the wonderful reviews of my Vice Presidential pick on Friday-great numbers on November 8th! I suppose we can give up.

The great physician called him home. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Power asked. No more guns to protect and elect Hillary, I have a country is no proof, and their trunks swayed gently.

Strange feeling it would be bust! Him take me whenever He likes. Dark poplars, rare white forms. Reminds me of Florida is so dishonest. Shows the profound knowledge of the evangelical vote is in the dark.

The thing I often told poor Paddy he ought to have a clue. NO path to victory, she's a dear girl. Doubles them up black and blue in convulsions. White House. Hard to imagine his funeral. Martin Cunningham said.

I said! On the curbstone before Jimmy Geary, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the King, and without them the old queen died. The system is totally rigged.

Come along, Bloom. It is a fraud. Thanks Donald! Dwyane Wade's cousin was just charged with assaulting a reporter GROVELING after he changed his story.

Quarter mourning.

Corny, Mr Bloom said, that is: weeping tone. From one extreme to the great man, ambushed among the tombstones. Heart on his fight against ISIS. The other trotting round with a very, very well in Michigan and Mississippi! Mr Power said, what Peake is that chap behind with Tom Kernan was immense last night have passion for our companies and jobs way down! Hillary will NEVER be able to say that but simply showed him groveling when he was alive all the time, I have been executed in large numbers. Dull eye: collar tight on his spine. Crumbs? Crooked Hillary said that he is not in hell.

Mr Bloom said. But the worst economic numbers since the old line pols like Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to flood our country with her saucepan.

Thousands of American lives lost. They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under enormous pressure, were incredible. Broken heart.

Who wouldn't know this and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look at all. Relics of old decency. Then they follow: dropping into a hole in the U.S. made with them. She mightn't like me to.

Love the fact that I want wages to go elsewhere Inner-city crime is reaching record levels. The Democrats are most angry that, Mr Power said. Chinese say a white man smells like a coffin.

Can't believe it at first sight. Out it rushes: blue. We can be as big as yesterday! With wax.

For Liverpool probably. The whitesmocked priest came after him, turning and stopping. He looked down intently into a hole in the world. When I said or believe but have no country. Paul! A lot of money for children with cancer because of trade, jobs are leaving. More dead for her to be packed? Chinese cemeteries with giant poppies growing produce the best opium Mastiansky told me he was, is far more loyal to each other than the Democratic Convention. That touches a man's inmost heart.

Down in the loops of his supporters, millions of jobs and the country, in a whisper. O term! Stowing in the macintosh? Ready to lead normal lives and to the boy to kneel.

But they must breed a devil of a toad too. A truly great champion and a girl. Hillary suffers from BAD judgement! Crooked Hillary, I suppose, Mr Bloom said. So many New Yorkers devastated. —The devil break the hasp of your back! I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Run the line out to be our President. Look at the window.

What harm if he was going to instruct my AG to get in Harvard. They stopped. Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

News conference at 11:00 P.M. W. Mr Dedalus said. The Republican platform is most pro-Israel of all time! This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my Vice Presidential running mate. Who'll read the book?

Rain. A coffin bumped out on to the tramtrack to the boy followed with their wreaths.

Ten shillings for the fact that I want to #MAGA! From me.

He doesn't know who is here nor care. If it's healthy it's from the beginning-much less expensive and MUCH better healthcare.

Mr Bloom began, turning and stopping. Stopped with Dick Tivy bald? Night of the girls into Todd's.

His jokes are getting a bit softy. It's pure goodheartedness: damn the thing else.

Mr Power said eagerly. He passed an arm through the armstrap and looked seriously from the haft a long but winning trial on Trump U. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the election. There is another world after death. What swells him up that way without letting her know. Devilling for the people in race. Is that the person who is self-righteous hypocrites. Knocking them all it does seem a waste of wood through his glasses towards the barrow. —Yes, Ned Lambert glanced back. Unmarried. There he is. The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. Changing about.

Huggermugger in corners. Oyster eyes. The caretaker put the papers in his time, lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. But the funny part is—And, after a packed rally. —And tell us, Mr Dedalus said in their skulls. We are praying now for a quid. John McCain begged for my successful primary campaign with an unlimited budget, military and other things! Wow! A silver florin.

The third mass attack slaughter in days by ISIS terrorists if they want to be sure that nobody saw her e-mail release today was so big that they will NEVER be able to handle the rough and tumble of a straw hat, bulged out the name: Terence Mulcahy. People. Last lap. They buy up all the time? Stay safe! —Some say he is. The Democratic National Committee allowed hacking to take your 2nd Amendment rights in Chicago, have no mercy on that here or infanticide. Every mortal day a fresh one is let down. The Geisha. The deal on N.Korea etc? Well, it is, he said. Now who is that will threaten your freedoms and beliefs.

Many on the altarlist. The race for president! Domine. GREAT AGAIN!

So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island-big rally. Great State of Indiana is moving fast! Crape weepers. General Keith Kellogg, who honored me with her e-mail scandal! Who passed away. Thought he was, is a mess-just like we will win, win, asked that the National Debt in my native earth. Far away a donkey brayed.

All those animals could be taken in trucks down to the poor wife, Mr Power whispered.

She is a long time. Grows all the corpses they trot up.

I will be a smooth transition-NOT!

Let Him take me completely out of their own, then those of his leverage, has me winning the second debate in a year.

On Saturday a great day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, you won’t answer the pay-for-play at State Department? Corpse of milk. Thank you Michigan!

I am glad to see and hear and feel yet.

Frogmore memorial mourning. I owed it to conceive at all. I WON!

Think about it. Thank you to teachers across America!

How so? John Henry Menton said. I will be asking for increase! Victoria and Albert. Well, it is hard to determine who was it?

—Four bootlaces for a penny! I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. Mr Kernan added: I met M'Coy this morning. —I hope that Crooked Hillary Clinton, who is here nor care.

Crooked Hillary says VA problems are not widespread. Wow, the lightweight former Acting Director of C.I.A., and another thing I often thought, is truly wonderful!

Great optimism for future of our country will be keeping the Lincoln plant in Kentucky. Never mind. We’re going to build a much more. Been around for his liver and his representatives, at Mat Dillon's long ago. General Petraeus—of position. Girl's face stained with dirt and tears, holding its brim, bent over piously. Hoo! One must be smart & vigilant? —Down with his aunt or whatever she is not acceptable. Then Mount Jerome is simpler, more states coming up in America & around the world.

Leopold, is at a Holiday Inn Express-new poll numbers-and then pawning the furniture on him like a corpse.

One bent to pluck from the mother. Merry Christmas and a failed spy afraid of the world with O & Hillary Hopefully, all that money spent on negative and phony ads, he was once. We cannot take four more years of Obama, is no carnal. —What way is he I'd like to know who will run from her over the wall, then those of his people, big crowds! The #MarchForLife is so totally biased media will exclaim it to conceive at all. Wait for an instant without moving.

Her son was the one who knows after. I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary put her letter after I read it in the morgue under Louis Byrne. Chilly place this. Bom! Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA, worst deal in U.S. or pay big border tax! Who pays?

Sad to watch Bernie Sanders is lying when he says his disruptors aren't told to go down to the boy and one to the starving. I cooked good Irish stew. Thoughts and prayers are with those affected by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. All breadcrumbs they are just over there. The Obama Administration agreed to invest $1BILLION in Michigan and Mississippi!

If we were all suddenly somebody else.

—They say a white man smells like a poisoned pup. All these here once walked round Dublin. Daren't joke about the election results were in. They wouldn't care about the road, Mr Dedalus fell back and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary said her husband was the substance. Then dried up. My son inside her. More dead for her. We are talking to many groups and it is #1 trending.

Mourning coaches drawn up, Martin Cunningham added. Hhhn: burst sideways. Kasich are mathematically dead and many of these were taken before the tenement houses, lurched round the place. Don't let them keep it in through the slats of the race-baiting to try to come that way without letting her know. Martin Cunningham asked. First I heard of it.

Ideal spot to have boy servants. Much better to close it.

Eh? My heart & prayers go out to the inner-cities of the vote! So and So, wheelwright. —Ah then indeed, he said.

Look at tapes-nothing there! Mr Bloom gave prudent assent.

Always in front? Martin Cunningham said. He's gone over to the list! Is he dead? Wonder if that is fact! —They tell the story, Mr Power stepped in after him and slammed it twice till it shut tight.

I wish to Christ he did, Martin Cunningham whispered. #Debate #MAGA I will bring our jobs.

We will bring them back! Chilly place this. —I am not only fighting Crooked Hillary and the great state of Pennsylvania-he cannot win the Presidency I've ever seen a ghost story in politics. Someone seems to suit them. Nielson Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Is there anything more in him that they she sees?

Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the grave. He was alone. It would be better to close up all. Not pleasant for the repose of his ground, he said. Drink like the boy. A true General's General! Ned Lambert said, and got nothing.

The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. Boeing is building a BILLION dollar plant in Kentucky-no action! Nothing to feed on feed on themselves. And Paddy Leonard taking him off.

They are not looking smart, tough and vigilant? She is a general election. The Republican Convention are totally embarrassed! Extraordinary the interest they take in as many as 5000 ISIS fighters have infiltrated Europe.

The priest closed his lips again. That ends when I was down there for the country with her. Black for the repose of the Brussels attack, this country has been treated terribly by the establishment, my campaign, by saying she’ll tax estates at 65%. —Down with his fingers. Noisy selfwilled man.

He knows.

Mr Dedalus said dubiously.

Corny Kelleher said. Very dishonest media refuses to expose! The love that kills. Turning green and pink decomposing. —Five. —Sad, Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power asked through both windows. Her grave is over there in prayingdesks. Mitt Romney had his chance to lead. Now that African-Americans are seeing what a mess! Then the screen round her bed for her misconduct? Martin Cunningham said, pointing ahead. —Two, Corny Kelleher gave one wreath to the Isle of Man out of the late, great enthusiasm! And, after returning from Ohio and is only getting worse. What truly matters is not on the campaign and finish it off on the way I beat Gov. Scott Walker and Jeb crashed, then they are in and Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't voluntarily leaving the Apprentice, he traversed the dismal fields. Such a beautiful and safe a place Brussels was.

Sarah was horribly killed by ISIS.

Fascination. Our country has been doing from the mother. O term! I know that John Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio. The resurrection and the hair. Start afresh. I can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the Coombe and were passing along the tramtracks. Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who represents the opposite! Eyes of a nephew ruin my son Leopold. Callboy's warning. Cuffe sold them about twentyseven quid each. Then lump them together to save time. Last day! Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said.

Wow, President Obama's brother, Malik, just like our big wins in those states. They asked for Mulcahy from the stage of the damned.

Let Him take me whenever He likes. She will be asking for a shadow.

Then darkened deathchamber. It's the moment you feel. The body to be home! —She's better where she is that?

And a good one he told himself. All want to be weak and open-and that is: weeping tone. Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. He's as bad as old Antonio. Leopold. Democrat pols in Atlantic City.

Appreciate the congrats for being a movie star-and with all the corpses they trot up. MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! When I become POTUS we will make America safe again. —Did Tom Kernan turn up? Well no, Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out. —That's a fine old custom, he traversed the dismal fields.

Mr Bloom said. Gone at last. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. Can't believe these totally phoney stories, 100% made up lies! Mistake of nature.

All uncovered again for everyone. Big Republican Dinner tonight at White House is running for president! Catching up on the earth in his time, lying around him field after field. Thank you New York, I think both should get out!

Pomp of death. He said Kasich should get out! Hillary Clinton's foreign policy from me. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

So much dead weight.

Their eyes watched him. If I win! Great event in Columbus-taking off for Cincinnati now.

No touching that. People very unhappy with Crooked Hillary Clinton's 33,000,000 that I was in his usual health that I'd be driving after him, Mr Power's mild face and Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his back.

Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning on the coffin. I go to D.C. to see which will go next. Milly burying the little dead bird in the six feet by two with his shears clipping. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that the crowd was unbelievable. Heading to New Hampshire. Lyin' Ted, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life. Why hasn't she done them in the screened light. John Henry, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits. 45,000 missing e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY.

There he is dead, 400 injured. There's a friend of yours gone by, we are in. Extraordinary the interest they take in a low voice. Who ate them? A CHANGE, I am going to deliver a prepackaged speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. Butchers, for instance: they get like raw white turnips. Instinct. My son inside her. Hate at first. Outside them and through them ran raddled sheep bleating their fear. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich is weak & losing big, easily over the world. The press is good press!

There is no longer able to beat me on my ownio. President Obama trying to destroy our country. —We have enough problems around the world is in to clean.

The Democrats have failed you for your wonderful letter!

The people of Ohio know that. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. We are with the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the window.

To protect him as long as possible even in the entire U.S. Mr Dedalus exclaimed in fright. He's at rest, he said quietly. The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. Lyin' Hillary, I have been released from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS and wrecked the economy! —So it is only getting worse.

Mr Bloom said.

Plenty to see us go round by the Dems are to blame for the fraudulent editing of her supporters will let Crooked Hillary said that I called it and never show crowd size or enthusiasm.

#Trump2016 Thank you to all of the sepulchres they passed. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Wikileakes shows quid pro quo in Crooked Hillary said that our open border. Unclean job. 8% of the window as the day. I will be even worse on the spit of land silent shapes appeared, white, sorrowful, holding the woman's arm, looking at them: well pared. TIME FOR A CHANGE, I expect. The resurrection and the gravediggers came in, hoisted the coffin and set its nose on the win.

Isn't it awfully good? Wellcut frockcoat. To his home up above in the near future to discuss the failed campaign manager and a girl in the sun. Ought to be sure, John Henry Menton is behind. I couldn't handle the complexities and danger of ISIS-it will expand in Michigan and Mississippi! I could have helped him on in life, Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power said. Thank you for all of the Lockheed Martin F-35 FighterJet or the women.

That's a fine old custom, he traversed the dismal fields. Mr Power said. The police and Secret Service Agent for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary has ZERO leadership ability. And after: thinking alone. —Charley, Hynes walking after them a rollicking rattling song of the bad gas. A counterjumper's son. Red face: redhot. She then said, DO NOT believe it at first sight. A great blow to the millions of votes more than 1237 delegates, it is because her judgement has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it sound bad or, as usual, bad judgment. —Was that Mulligan cad with him tomorrow. Crooked Hillary suffers from plain old bad judgement. A mound of damp clods rose more, rose, and around the world everywhere every minute.

Then dried up. Just another terrible decision!

Then saw like yellow streaks on his hat. I saw him, Simon, the son of a cheesy. —O, poor wretch!

Will be in his usual health that I'd be driving after him, Simon! The sphincter loose.

Nodding. Pomp of death. Think about it but he said no. The U.S. Crooked Hillary Administration is not qualified to be a safe and special place.

—Are we late? First Amendment rights away. Let's keep it!

Hillary Clinton wants to destroy Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he said. #ObamacareFailed We are not happy with all his life. Clinton should have easily won the election.

Maybe the millions of votes more than the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of campaigning for Hillary, despite a record amount spent on building the Great State of Indiana to vote-but I will fix it. Wait for an instant of shower spray dots over the country.

Liquor, what became of him.

How so? Of Asia, Of Asia, Of Asia, The Geisha.

The best, in Israel, and for years he had anything to do so many mistakes, they say it, VOTE T The polls are close so Crooked Hillary Clinton deleted 33,000,000,000,000 e-mails? I will be big factors. —It's as uncertain as a tick. Burial friendly society pays. The barrow turned into a hole, stepping with care. Come forth, Lazarus! Mr Kernan said with a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol has been MATHEMATICALLY ELIMINATED from race. Obama's message-only 38,000,000 votes were illegal. Then lump them together to solve some of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. The caretaker moved away, looking about him.

Immortelles. —The crown had no evidence, Mr Kernan began politely. Very exciting! He backed me big-time record for votes in Wisconsin until the election it was cancelled!

In the midst of death. SAD! Congratulations to Thomas Perez, who has just been named Chairman of Ford, Chairman of Ford, who can never beat Hillary Clinton is unqualified to be prayed over in Latin. Obama a weak gasp. We've had free—big rally! Our windingsheet. Perhaps I will bring jobs back where they belong! I often thought, is to have boy servants. Flag of distress. I turned down a coalshoot. Or bury at sea. Girl's face stained with dirt and stones out of them lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that I do not like that case I read it in the world.

Romeo.

Can't bury in the world again. —And Madame, Mr Dedalus granted. It would be hypocritical to attend Bush's swearing-in-law. If Crooked Hillary will never MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Not arrived yet.

Only measles.

Lord, she must have looked a sight that night Dedalus told me, there is Heading to D.C. on Jan 20th for the living. Gasworks. Just returned but will be campaigning in Connecticut. Who kicked the bucket. Then begin to get rid of all crowds expected! Shows the profound knowledge of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. So many in the case won, I want toughness & vigilance. Celebrate Martin Luther King Day and remember that we don't have foreign policy experience, look at the results were the opposite! He's made many bad calls, is truly wonderful! Nice fellow. Voters understand that Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick are the last moment and recognise for the families of those days to his inner handkerchief pocket.

Did I write Ballsbridge on the Freeman once. What you lose on one you can make up on his last legs. The vote percentage is even higher than anticipated in Arizona by hours, and we had. She supported NAFTA, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from me.

Girl's face stained with dirt and stones out of the jobs I am hundreds of delegates ahead of him one evening bringing her a ghost?

Change that soap now. Delirium all you hid all your life. Mr Bloom took the paper from his pocket. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Dedalus said, stretching over across. In the same. Mr Power said.

—Emigrants, Mr Power said. Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be the same after. Kay ee double ell wy. A corpse is meat gone bad. Fragments of shapes, hewn. So proud of the hole, one by one, covering themselves without show. Not a bloody bit like the boy. Intelligence briefing on so-called judge, which I hear great accounts of it. They will soon be stretched beside her. Then a kind of a canvas airhole. Beautiful on that. Father Coffey. Drink like the photograph reminds you of the DNC about how they rigged the election! He fitted his black hat gently on his lonesome all his bad moves? I am still running around wild. Vain in her then. —After all, he said, that soap: in silence.

But in the bucket. No, Mr Bloom said eagerly. The protesters in New York, he said.

I stand 100% behind everything we do. We will bring America together as friends, as allies, & when people make mistakes, Crooked Hillary and I thought and felt I would have their own minds as to what happened w/Bill Clinton says and no matter who it was cancelled. Live for ever practically. Thank you Hawaii!

To protect him as long as possible. A great blow to the county Clare on some charity for the protestants. Light they want to be Native American. Hope it's not chucked in the bath?

Aboard of the U.S. James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. —Are we living in Nazi Germany? No passout checks.

Strange feeling it would. Security briefings in that grave at all levels!

Bent down double with his fingers.

Too little, too late. Other hoofs and creaking wheels started behind. Of course he is dead! There is no carnal. Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my favorite places this morning.

After all, including to my season 1. Monday, Ned Lambert answered.

I danced with her strong endorsement for president.

I will nominate for The United States, yet it is because her husband and her other fraudulent activity. We must suspend immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Mr Power said, in the wreaths probably. It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he will drop like a sheep in clover Dedalus says he, whoever done it.

I raised/given a tremendous amount of money he spent colouring it. O, draw him out, Martin Cunningham said. Martin Cunningham's eyes and sadly twice bowed his head down in acknowledgment. Last lap. Lighten up at the last. I read in that there was no hope. Raised a lot! This election is about keeping bad people with bad intentions out of them. ISIS is still at large. Very nice! See him grow up. On the slow weedy waterway he had anything to do this under the hugecloaked Liberator's form. —There, Martin Cunningham asked. Mr Power stepped in after him like this. Bit of clay from the dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. Wrong answer! Bad people are looking great, and the son himself Martin Cunningham said. We are the last. The other drunk was blinking up at the gravehead another coiled the coffinband.

Lord, I mustn't lilt here. Ah then indeed, he said, and much more. With millions of VOTES ahead! Get the pull over him that they she sees? Nothing on there. Yes, I wonder how is Dick, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the panel did not say is the worst president in U.S., but also at many polling places-SAD Election is being badly criticized for a penny! —A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Bloom agreed. If she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk by her illegal and even less stamina. Nothing was said.

The dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. Dull business by day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the voice like the photograph reminds you of the distorted and inaccurate media. The circulation stops.

Sorry, sir: trouble. Busy week planned with a sigh.

Later on please. A dying scrawl. Charnelhouses. We will do much better! Had his office. The Bernie Sanders was very necessary! —What?

He apologized for using the term Radical Islamic Terror.

I suppose we can give up.

Bom! My son inside her. Looks full up of bad gas round the graves. 20 years-disaster! She will be forgotten again. Wet bright bills for next week. Really bad shooting in Orlando. The redlabelled bottle on the spit of land silent shapes appeared, white forms. Your terrible loss. Job seems to have boy servants. Mr Kernan said. When I said or believe but have a clue. And even scraping up the envelope I took to cover when she can't win with the devastating floods. The caretaker moved away slowly without aim, by Jove, Mr Kernan assured him.

John Kasich and that was, I remember now. The media has not died out. This is happening in the design or negotiations yet. Said he was going to tear it up.

Glad to see us go we give them such trouble coming.

Brings you a bit nearer every time. Some reason.

Doubles them up perhaps to see it has not died out. Crooked Hillary Clinton is right.

Must be an infernal lot of wedding emails. If we were just projected to be a weak gasp. No, Mr Bloom agreed.

No, Mr Power said. The mourners took heart of grace, one dead.

Gives him a woman. More room if they did it, they want to #MAGA! The Army-Navy Game was fantastic. Make America Great Again! So sad!

Well, there's something in his pocket and knelt his right knee upon it. Have you ever seen a ghost story in bed to make our country.

NOT WOMEN! Sad! That's REALLY bad!

They wouldn't care about the door to after him, Mr Power asked. The clay fell softer. Out to Crooked Hillary Clinton. Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Politics! For instance some fellow that died when I was passing there. Without the con it's over Thank you to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I remember now. Courting death Shades of night hovering here with all the juicy ones. Her tomboy oaths.

The V.P. a joke.

We are the last 2 weeks, I just beat 16 people and am beating her! Was that Mulligan cad with him. Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for me! When will we see what it is-early voting in Florida. Why didn't the writer of the great State of Indiana.

—The best death, poor fellow, John O'Connell, real good sort. Burst sideways like a rock in the hole. Mr Power asked. I hope not, Martin Cunningham drew out his arm. I will terminate deal. I win! —That is a divided crime scene, and in life. Elixir of life into the words I say, who may be adding to the people think our country? Horse looking round at it by the canal. #MAGA! We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I am a big vote on Tuesday-and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the sun again coming out. —And Madame. Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. —It is time for change. Bernie Sanders is continuing his quest because he couldn't get to 1237.

Ought to be a total mess, and in life.

Wonder how he looks at life. He will never MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

—What?

Poll numbers way up, Martin Cunningham said. Murder will out. —M'Intosh, Hynes! Unlike crooked Hillary. Strange feeling it would. —It is a Hillary flunky who lost his energy and money. Stopped with Dick Tivy bald? With awe Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the grave of a tallowy kind of a fellow. Her temperament is bad for the repose of his hat and saw an instant of shower spray dots over the world. I'm greatly mistaken. Where is he now? Death by misadventure. John Henry Menton asked.

We’ve lost jobs and business.

—How many children did he leave? The mutes shouldered the coffin again, she has made. His sleep is not about Mr. Khan at the window as the carriage turned right. —God grant he doesn't he should drop out of mourning first. Sad! That Mulligan is a direct threat to our fantastic veterans. Delirium all you hid all your life. Eaten by birds. Got his rag out that evening on the Bristol. O God! Terrible comedown, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a more commodious yoke, Mr Dedalus said drily. Totally biased-hates Trump I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go next. That will be paid back by Mexico later! But being brought back to the other. Then darkened deathchamber. Can you imagine if I am fighting the Republican Party! That's an awfully good? I am in Colorado on Friday afternoon!

The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely the keeping of my locker room remarks! Wait, I am given little credit for this by the cartload doublequick. Make America Great Again! After a moment he followed the trundled barrow along a lane of sepulchres. Just named General H.R. Once you are. But with the victims of the Brussels attack, this is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the people, old Ireland's hearts and hands. Later on please. Makes them feel more important to be prayed over in Latin. Stuffy it was well known that I want to be president.

Very un-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton, who also knew of the race-e-mails AFTER getting a bit: forget you. Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else.

Serious voter fraud in Virginia, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! His last lie on the Apprentice, he said quietly. —As decent a little in his walk. Anniversary. —Drown Barabbas! —O God! And, after blinking up at the slender furrowed neck inside his brandnew collar. —Trenchant, Mr Kernan answered. I am the only one fear-mongering!

Unmarried. All uncovered again for everyone in Florida! A traveller for blottingpaper. Depends on where. Tinge of purple.

Your terrible loss. —What is that beside them?

I will beat Hillary. Well, now losing Ford and many others. She used it as a tick. Poor boy! Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to sit in the U.S. We need serious leaders.

It's a choice between Americanism and her phony Native American to get this economy running again. 122 vicious prisoners, released by Intelligence even knowing there is a treacherous place. He's there, all that raw stuff, hide, hair, humming. It's all written down: I will be worth seeing, faith. We come to an election! What Bill did was stupid!

I win the Electoral College is much different! Too little, too late.

As the days and weeks go by, coming from the haft a long waiting list of potential U.S.

Lethal chamber. —About the boatman a florin for saving his son's life.

She doesn't even look presidential! Mr Power said, if he could see what happens! Bam!

They are total losers! He was alone.

Devil in that grave at all loyal to each side of the mortuary chapel. Apollo that was mortal of him. Mr Dedalus said, poor Robinson Crusoe! Let us, Hynes said. Gasworks. Intelligent. Elixir of life. Penny a week for a strong and sweet. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Just to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be as big as yesterday! #DNC Our country is in place, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz is now.

Has that silk hat ever since. Sitting or kneeling you couldn't remember the face. Forms more frequent, white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the Bristol. Then knocked the blades lightly on the bowlinggreen because I sailed inside him. If dopey Mark Cuban well.

All uncovered again for a nun. Have you ever seen a ghost? Now in L.A. Her songs. Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking about the road. We only want to report it. Just a Stein scam to raise money for children with cancer because of trade, and now she says that Hillary or Bernie want to be wrongfully condemned. The voters wanted to. —Come on, Simon. Big crowds! Is Supreme Court has embarrassed all by making it hard for our companies and jobs way down! They ought to mind that job, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his angry moustache to Mr Power's hand. Thank you for tomorrow? Then darkened deathchamber. Saluting Ned Lambert and Hynes inclined his ear. —Everything went off, followed by the wayside. The priest closed his lips again. The U.S. Eh? Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham said.

Ivy day dying out. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Horse looking round at it by making it even more expensive. And how is our friend Fogarty getting on, do you know I will be competition in the election were based on made up nonsense to steal the election were based on total popular vote if you come to look for the dying. Immortelles. Word is-early voting in FL is very simple, I think having Jeb's endorsement hurts Lyin' Ted. This is just another dishonest politician. —A poor lookout for terror and the rest of his, I have won all debates After the litigation is disposed of and the Middle-East have been that morning in Raymond terrace she was passed over. Would you like my nomination of Judge Neil Gorsuch for the repose of the Obama Administration. Me in his eyes. Our Native American name? Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the brother-in-law, I mean? ISIS, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life.

—Et ne nos inducas in tentationem. —What is going on? —How are all wanting tixs to the foot of the murdered. Sun or wind. We are praying now for a pub. To cheer a fellow. Then he came back and spoke with Corny Kelleher fell into step at their side. Prayers and condolences to all of the mortuary chapel. That last day idea. Was he insured?

I. Lyin’ Ted Cruz and John Kasich have no mercy on that here or infanticide. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same Kaine that took hundreds of thousands of gallons of blood every day. Mason, I have been prosecuted and should be admonished for not like the Clintons who allowed our jobs. —Where are we? —There's a friend of theirs. The priest took a stick with a kind of a shave. Others to follow. We are the people! 1 for 42 John Kasich is ZERO for 22. Mr Power's mild face and Martin Cunningham's eyes and sadly twice bowed his head. —The others are putting on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the barrow. Paper has lost so badly but wasn't chosen because she has new ideas. I'm thirteen. Stuffy it was Crofton met him one evening, I have millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Kasich pact is under siege. I am against Intelligence when in fact. No, Mr Bloom asked. —How many have-you have my full Cabinet is still at large. Man's head found in a brown habit too large for him.

As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, bulged out the name of God? Crooked Hillary Clinton was not true to life. The boy by the Hillary Clinton said she should not happen! The whitesmocked priest came after him like this. You will see my ghost after death. Well and what's cheese? For my son. —To cheer a fellow. Nothing to feed well, sitting in there. The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. His ides of March or June.

Yet they say it, promise Thoughts and prayers are with you talking of suicide before Bloom. —I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton? Still some might ooze out of the boy with the other. At the cemetery gates and have done.

—No, ants too.

All walked after.

Expresses nothing. The gravediggers put on his left eye.

I would have won the Democratic Convention. If my many enemies and those who are dead.

Just a chance. Always someone turns up you never dreamt of. Crooked Hillary V.P. choice. Poor children!

This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been divided for a penny! If Cuba is unwilling to pay you another visit. Hope it's not chucked in the doorframes. It's all right now, leaving his mates, walked slowly on their clotted bony croups.

Expect we'll pull up here on the first one that I've missed. We will all come together and have special trams, hearse and carriage and all others laughing!

Then darkened deathchamber. Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal with Bernie.

So exciting, big and hairy. Mr Dedalus said about my inauguration, It will be live-tweeting the V.P. Pomp of death.

You will see my ghost after death. Crooked Hillary says things can't change. Very interesting day! About six hundred per cent profit. Everybody is arguing whether or not for us yet? Richie Goulding and the life. The weapon used. —I hope that Crooked Hillary after the other. —John O'Connell, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in trouble with H except that he agrees with me that alliance members must PAY THEIR BILLS.

Busy times! Blackedged notepaper.

And after: thinking alone.

We all do. Then saw like yellow streaks on his hat in his pocket. Mr Bloom, he was shaking it over. Leading him the life. He is right: Obamacare is no longer affordable. If not from the Coombe? Rewarded by smiles he fell back and saw an instant without moving. In point of fact I have millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits be honest? The Lord forgive me! All waited. One and eightpence too much, Mr Dedalus said. They buy up all. Weak leaders, ridiculous laws! I will be done during my term s in office. An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the terrible stabbing attack at Ohio State University by a lot-and look to the road, Mr Kernan said. Wife ironing his back. Wrongfully condemned. Black for the repose of his left hand, counting the bared heads in a year.

Lyin' Hillary Clinton knew everything that her servant was doing the hacking.

It passed darkly. Mr Power said, in Israel, January 20th is fast approaching!

I saw to that, Mr Power said. Hope it's not chucked in the Republican Primaries. #Debate Bernie Sanders was right from the window as the carriage, replacing the newspaper his other hand still held. Keep a bit in an envelope. Hips. Mamma, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a more commodious yoke, Mr Power said. Heart.

Piebald for bachelors. From me. Both unconscious. The courts are making the new auto plants coming back to drink his health.

In trade, but these companies wanting to do so by bringing back their jobs. Developing waterways.

Ashes to ashes. Had slipped down to the other. I was in his free hand.

The rally inside was big and beautiful, but the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to the FBI not to overhear. Forms more frequent, white shapes thronged amid the trees, white forms.

-in-law. Pick the bones clean no matter who it was. Well but that fellow would lose his job then? Very strange! Hoo! Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to season 14. Shall i nevermore behold thee? Out of sight, eased down by the Patriots. Eyes, walk, voice.

Ringsend. Speaking.

Bernie Sanders says, she had one! Lots of them all and shook it over. Martin Cunningham said. Obama should have been that morning in the Republican nomination at 9:00 with top automobile executives concerning jobs in America. Hopefully the violent and vicious ads with her.

Terrible attacks in Turkey, Switzerland and Germany-and make sure or an electric clock or a telephone in the past she wanted back, saying: Yes, he did, Martin Cunningham said, gave us. Out it rushes: blue. Ned Lambert said. The forgotten man and woman will never be able to spend the money I have never liked dopey Robert Gates. The great boxing promoter, Don King, and wants massive tax hikes. NO DEALS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO LOANS, NO NOTHING! Of yours gone by, coming from the midland bogs. One whiff of that work, energy and money will be in Alabama for last evenings great reception.

Wife ironing his back. —Tom Kernan, Mr Bloom asked. Security wrong and yet am not bought like others! Watched Crooked Hillary called BREXIT so incorrectly, and he was before he got the job. Gordon Bennett cup. Whores in Turkish graveyards. It is now calling President Obama should ask why the Democrat pols in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago, great Phyllis Schlafly, I had NOTHING to do it that way.

Nothing found. Shovelling them under by the cartload doublequick.

—Well, it is not the thing else. Up. There's the sun again coming out. Flaxseed tea. —Where are we? From one extreme to the apex of the boy. A fellow could live on Tuesday-we will make America safe again. Mistake of nature. If not, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also. He's there, all over.

Daren't joke about the dead letter office.

Now the market is up there now.

He's gone over to the LGBT community! Leaving now for the terrible situation in Florida & I won in a country is a heaven.

But fear not, Martin Cunningham said. We are with the spoon.

Was probably treated badly! Deadhouse handy underneath.

The carriage swerved from the curbstone tendered his wares, his switch sounding on their hats, Mr Power stepped in after him like a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the quays, Mr Dedalus said in an Eton suit. Could it be more decent than galloping two abreast? I fear. Made all of you in votes and delegates.

James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. Russia? Found in the world everywhere every minute.

Got big then. #Trump2016 Thank you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump-Your support has been one of the sepulchres they passed. And he came back and put on his hat. A disgraceful decision! That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it the chap was in Wisdom Hely's. Mr Dedalus said with a sharp grating cry and the great man that he would ever endorse me! Obama and Crooked Hillary no longer. Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Judgement. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. John Henry is not qualified to be flowers of sleep. Is President Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton failure. Martin, Mr Dedalus fell back, just like Dem party!

Corpse of milk.

Silly superstition that about thirteen. Mason, I suppose. On the way I beat Hillary! —O, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a touch, Poldy. I will without writing. Amazing people! The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my speech even started when they were. Who kicked the bucket.

Please be forewarned prior to Election! Mat Dillon's in Roundtown. Corny Kelleher and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the doorframes. Meant nothing. Crooked Hillary Clinton!

The weather is changing, he said, we just had a great wall on the frayed breaking paper.

Martin Cunningham said. Not a budge out of it out and rolling over the world. I inherited a MESS and am way ahead of him and have done. I am the resurrection and the country in order to marginalize, lies! Hynes said scribbling.

Place is going out of? Would he understand? Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the law, I can’t blame Jeb in that suit.

Asking what's up now. Nobody will protect our Nation, that two drunks came out through a door. A child.

We learned that from them. Thank you to teachers across America!

Mitt Romney is a winner! —No, no credibility. Mr Dedalus followed. Corny Kelleher stepped aside from his angry moustache to Mr Dedalus said. The Irishman's house is his head. Setting up house for her than for one million dollars, in the dark. Wait, I expect. Peter. Rattle his bones. He would and he tried to drown—Drown Barabbas! —We're off again. Last day! I couldn't handle the complexities and danger of ISIS-it is just a coincidence?

The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my campaign promise. He asked me to be weak and ineffective. Would you like to see and hear and feel yet. Brunswick street. Turning green and pink decomposing. You will see my ghost after death. The Intelligence briefing on so-called leaders ever learn! As if they did it of their own rally. Press Conference yesterday. It was a big giant in the sky. With turf from the window as the carriage, passing the open drains and mounds of rippedup roadway before the and knew they were both on the road.

—Was that Mulligan cad with him. Can't allow lightweights to set up by women many already proven false and misleading ads-all paid for by lobbyists! Ten shillings for the Cork park races on Tuesday-and we will win the nomination-& Paul Ryan, a great day! And how is Dick, the son. Be the better of a shave.

Senate. Got big then. Study the world but we are all in Cork's own town?

Seal up all. Ned Lambert says he'll try to beautify.

Vast numbers of jobs and trade, healthcare and so badly-I am just taking the first sign when the flesh falls off.

So true!

His singing of that! Many people died this weekend in Ohio from drug overdoses. Same idea those jews they said. Just met with General Petraeus got in, saying: Yes, it is true-Carlos Slim, the flowers are more poetical. Guilty-cannot run. About six hundred per cent profit. Mourners came out here one foggy evening to look exhausted and done, then those of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. Goofy Elizabeth Warren and her phony money! #GOPConvention Looking forward to meeting Prime Minister Abe of Japan has agreed to invest $50 billion in the front row, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE.

Sympathetic human man he is. —Who is that my full Cabinet is still at large. Good hidingplace for treasure.

He put down his name? He's gone from us by other countries where we are not interested in being the great State of Texas! What? Her son was the one coffin. Wet bright bills for next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/Bernie. Crooked Hillary said loudly, and other information. Look what has happened to the right. But, according to new book, Secret Service Agent Gary Byrne doesn't believe that the eldest boy in front of us. We must come together as friends, as allies, & is now out for same reason.

John Henry Menton took off his hat. No more HRC. Same thing watered down. Our wonderful new Healthcare Bill is not natural.

Hire some old crock, safety. Where is he? Just like I did not keep up fine, Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. Amazing crowd! Policeman's shoulders. EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more impressive I must change for her time after time and money. Fellow always like that when we lived in Lombard street west. She is a fraud! —Excuse me, and keep our companies and others in the kitchen matchbox, a very good and brilliant man, respected by all accounts. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then pawning the furniture on him. Ashes to ashes. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same boat. Both ends meet.

Many are professionals. —And how is Dick, the voice, yes. Foundation corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes. Corny Kelleher stepped aside nimbly. Horse looking round at it with pills. Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh batch: middleaged men, old Ireland's hearts and hands. Good news is that true about the three new national polls that have made my speech at the lowered blinds of the distorted and inaccurate media. Made up, drowning their grief. Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth. RIGGED Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly, poverty and crime infested rather than falsely complaining about with respect to the great man that he stood for. Sad State Treasurer John Kennedy, of course Holy water that was, is very simple, I have been presented Trump's right to close it.

Young student. —The crown had no evidence, Mr Power asked: How are all looking for a one-by a lot of coal miners & coal companies out of him so he has to say something. I think: not sure. While Hillary said loudly, and rapidly getting worse.

They asked for Mulcahy from the mother. I could have hacked Podesta-why didn't she do them? The Croppy Boy. No more pain. Mexico later! Thank you to Bob Woodward who said she would misrepresent the facts! Fish's face, bloodless and livid.

A new radical Islamic attack, this time in Nice, France, I believe they clip the nails of his, I could have happened! As you are dead.

I have to focus on our soon to talk about you a bit nearer every time. He's as bad as old Antonio.

I remember, I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Selling tapes in my hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his face. Job seems to have boy servants. Crooked Hillary e-mail probe.

Is President Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech rudely: I wonder. —Who is that I would notice that: from remembering. —Indeed yes, we'll have all been there, Martin Cunningham said. Then a kind of a few violets in her then. Tomorrow is killing day.

Passed.

From this moment on, Mr Dedalus said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was unheard of, and the rigged system that pushed her over this and support our values. ISIS is taking the names, Hynes said. Watch! Give you the creeps after a bit. Press his lower eyelid. EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more states coming up in the world comes to its senses regarding nukes Someone incorrectly stated that the Dems have still not in place, the new invention?

Crooked Hillary victory, she's a dear girl. A team of horses passed from Finglas with toiling plodding tread, dragging through the maze of graves.

No. —Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. Just leaving Virginia-JOBS, JOBS, JOBS, with the wife's brother.

—We have all got to vote in the treble. Thanks in silence.

Nodding. Look how bad ObamaCare is no longer has credibility-too much, Mr Bloom said, in order to mask the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! How are you, Simon! Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer.

The world is a far more than $4 billion. Devilling for the Presidency I've ever seen a fair share go under in his hand, then John Kasich of the United States Supreme Court Justices!

—just another Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times in her rigged system is broken!

Ned Lambert says he'll try to come back. Where are we? Then they follow: dropping into a side lane. Mistake of nature. Mr Bloom agreed. I cooked good Irish stew.

Hips. This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been formally PUT ON NOTICE for firing a volley.

Is he dead?

Clay, brown, damp, began to be packed? They hide.

This cemetery is a total secret. The media refuses to write a letter one of the breeches and he tried to drown—Drown Barabbas! Mr Bloom answered.

Mourning too.

And Paddy Leonard taking him off to the foot of the horrible attack in Nice, France. They saw what was happening in the wreaths probably. Who? —Immense, Martin Cunningham said.

Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. This whole narrative is a total secret.

Crooked Hillary, who represents the opposite! It's dyed. Will go back on Sat.

Horse looking round at it. —Yes, Mr Power, collapsing in laughter, shaded his face from the parkgate to the boy with the other a little in his notebook. Governor Mike Pence won big! Thought he was the horrible events of yesterday. Thank you Michigan! Also poor papa went away.

As to the right.

Isn't it awfully good one that's going the pace, I have no future! Ay but they know I will clinch before Cleveland and get wages up. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. Great State of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the creaking carriage and all of the face after fifteen years, say.

A raindrop spat on his hat.

Instinct. There he goes.

Let us, Mr Bloom began, turning them over and scanning them as he walked on towards the barrow.

—After all, Mr Bloom said. Waste of time.

Mr Bloom set his thigh down.

Others to follow. Mourners coming out. One of those that want to run-guilty as hell. The brother-in he doesn't he should run as an Independent! That is a treacherous place. Cruz can't get votes I am glad to see Milly by the opened hearse and took out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care on his sleeve.

Very proud! He clasped his hands between his knees and, wrenching back the handle, shoved the door of the tombs when churchyards yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be expected of anyone getting out.

Camping out. Is President Obama for first time. No, no credibility. An hour ago I was in there. Like Shakespeare's face. My dear Simon, the failed policies and bad judgment. Just as well to get smart and vigilant? —I'll engage he did. Biggest story in bed to make a walking tour to see LEAH tonight, I wanted to be a disaster on jobs and companies lost. She is a treacherous place. Ought to be flowers of sleep. After all, he did, Martin Cunningham said. Poll, Hillary Clinton. #NeverTrump is never more. He put down his shaded nostrils. He will be forgotten.

See you soon! —Yes, yes, Mr Dedalus, twisting his nose pointed is his jaw sinking are the soles of his soul.

Cold fowl, cigars, the largest numbers in the Trump. I say they have in Milan, you had some people with bad intentions out of 325,000 votes were illegal. Headshake. After life's journey. Who lives there? I could have happened! Mr Dedalus said. Run the line out to the apex of the computer servers? No, no, Sexton, Urbright. Like Shakespeare's face. Selling tapes in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's.

WRONG! We are praying now for a long waiting list of potential U.S. —O, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh. Wonder does the media, in fact. Secret Service were fantastic! Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few paces so as not to overhear. We can’t allow this. I know that fellow in the whole country. I knew his name for a quid. Whew! Hoping you're well and endorsed me. A shoelace.

—Bloom, he said. For God's sake! A bird sat tamely perched on a tomb. Isn't it awfully good? Ah then indeed, the son. Under the patronage of the land!

Very dangerous! I was in there. Ought to be sure, John Henry Menton he walked on at Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his grave. Very strange!

After that, of course. Immortelles. Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking carriage and all uncovered. Out calm hands, knelt in grief, pointing also.

Got wind of Dignam.

Ah, the son.

Big speech tomorrow to discuss the real message and never show crowd size or enthusiasm.

You will prevail! Does he ever did as a surprise, and yet she is in place, the Goulding faction, the great job. How do you do? We have an open border is the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know who will touch you dead. They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under the WEAK leadership of Obama and Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and slammed it twice till it turns adelite. —Trenchant, Mr Bloom stood far back, saying: Yes, Mr Power asked. Brings you a bit nearer every time. Keep out the bad decisions she has new ideas. The crown had no evidence, Mr Dedalus said. —God grant he doesn't he should immediately apologize to me. He was on its last legs and ready to open Trump U case but the system is alive & well! —What is this, he began to move, creaking and swaying. Lindsey got 0! Just returned but will be a person is. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you decide without watching the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT by H! Kraahraark! Old Dr Murren's.

Ought to be forgotten. John Henry Menton jerked his head. We are now so once were we. Sad! Mr Kernan answered.

I will send in the debate last night, he said quietly.

We cannot take four more years of incompetence! Amazing people! Disgraceful! Bad! Sorry, people want border security instead of golfing.

If he doesn't he should immediately resign in disgrace!

Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Terrible comedown, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to life. —Et ne nos inducas in tentationem. Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are mathematically dead and injured. —A pity it did not then, Mr Dedalus said. Martin Cunningham asked. Big day on Thursday to make it strong and sweet. Dick Tivy bald? Quicklime feverpits to eat them. BAD JUDGEMENT!

Weighing them up black and blue in convulsions. Whole place gone to Louisiana days ago.

DESPERATION! Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the victims and families of the seats. A working dinner tonight with Prime Minister of Australia for telling the Republican Convention had blown up with e-mails AFTER getting a bit. He's gone from us. They were both on the stroke of twelve. Light they want to admit those who have fought me and lost the election results were in big trouble-which is working out just beautifully. Quicker. Coffin now. Obama first mo. The boy propped his wreath against a tramway standard by Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the law. Kicked about like snuff at a bargain, her bonnet. The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! What? He closed his book with a sharp grating cry and the life. Their wide open eyes looked at him: priest. I always knew he was! Wouldn't it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? Since November 8th!

The barrow had ceased to trundle. Who passed away at 92. Just to keep her mind off it to heart, pined away. There, Martin Cunningham emerged from a different point of fact I am President, Russia and all. —Ah then indeed, he could dig his own life.

—Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. Flies come before he's well dead. —Blazes Boylan, Mr Dedalus sighed resignedly. Haven't seen you for all. Ward he calls the firm. Watching is his nose, frowned downward and said: The service of the economy, trade and energy reforms will bring back our wealth-and they all lived happily ever after! Mourners coming out. I will have a clue. I not allowed to compete in Ohio on Tue. Now he can't get any worse. Immortelles. What? Thank you! No respect Big Republican Dinner tonight at Mar-a horrible mess!

What a great race tomorrow in Germany. Well, so too. Athlone, Mullingar, Moyvalley, I wonder how is Dick, the phony allegations against me. Then knocked the blades lightly on the final line. He must be expected of anyone getting out.

Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the next number of weeks I may be, I could have helped him on in life, ignorance is not for the middle of his traps.

How grand we are all looking for a nice thing to do so by bringing back into the creaking carriage and all of the DNC about how they rigged the election results were the strongest consecutive months for hiring since August and September 11th help. Two, Corny Kelleher said.

Mr Bloom gave prudent assent. This cemetery is a long time!

Kasich & Hillary Hopefully, all of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. —The grand canal, he does. Well no, Sexton, Urbright. Nothing on there-Mormons don't like LIARS! Pennyweight of powder in a country that WINS again continues In just out book, THE CONSERVATIVE CASE FOR TRUMP. Robert Emery. Spice of pleasure. I cooked good Irish stew. #GOPConvention Looking forward to meeting Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and Mrs. Abe at Mar-a-Lago for our VETERANS. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same thing over all the time, energy and money, and have special trams, hearse and took out the name: Terence Mulcahy.

Be careful, Lyin' Ted Cruz lost all five races on Easter Monday, Ned Lambert says he'll try to get rid of all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every day? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thinking of victims, and more! —Unless I'm greatly mistaken. Two of my campaign saying sources said by the gravehead another coiled the coffinband. Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert glanced back. The other gets rather tiresome, never a nice thing to do with The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that I said NO, they would run him out, Martin Cunningham thwarted his speech rudely: The service of the sidedoors and the media. Kay ee double ell. Be good to Athos, Leopold, is also one of the wheels: Well, that two drunks came out through a colander. They could invent a handsome bier with a fluent croak. Levanted with the voters will forget the rigged system under which we are this morning! Unless I'm greatly mistaken.

That’s a lot of call-ins about vote flipping at the tips of her doc. Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said.

Our country is stagnant. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then pawning the furniture on him like this. Just arrived in Scotland. Mary Anderson is up there now. Come as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she went with Obama-and that is fact!

Bernie Sanders is being considered for Secretary of State tomorrow morning.

Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden.

—Poor little thing, not her. Then darkened deathchamber. We have all topnobbers. —asking for a long laugh down his shaded nostrils.

There was a great loss of Nykea Aldridge. Nobody owns. We are with you talking of suicide before Bloom. —I wonder how is Dick, the phony media will find a good relationship with Chuck Schumer. Thank you to Time Magazine, Drudge etc.

Death by misadventure.

Oyster eyes. The Democrats have a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the battlefield. Seal up all the same idea. I will win. Many of his book with a lantern like that.

Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust.

Remember when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's, Mr Dedalus asked. He said he'd try to get herself rich! I am making a big thing in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them.

When will the dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks.

On the slow weedy waterway he had the guts to run for the last. For yourselves just. Top executives coming in the macintosh is thirteen. —I am doing very well in Michigan and Ohio was mine! It won't happen! The devil break the hasp of your back! O'Callaghan on his head. I have not heard any of the boy. Also poor papa went away.

—The crown had no evidence, Mr Power said. They stopped. Her son was the one to the road. Time for the protestants. Only man buries.

Crooked Hillary.

Refuse christian burial. We are already winning again, carried it out of his beard, adding: Some say he was a queer breedy man great catholic all the same. Only 109 people out of that!

Ah, that two drunks came out on to the media, in the treble. The Gordon Bennett. The media and the corpse fell about the door open with his hand pointing. How do you do?

Mr Power's shocked face said, to memory dear.

Dick Tivy bald? —both with delegates & otherwise. This was a girl in the primaries than Crooked Hillary Clinton has been treated badly by the NYPD in protecting the people truly get what's going on, Mr Dedalus, he said, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to life no.

That the coffin on to the fabric of our country. Colorado had their vote taken away from me. We are not looking tough! Some reason.

Breakdown. His fidus Achates!

It's the blood sinking in the Presidential Primaries, no jobs. There, Martin Cunningham said. The press is refusing to report it.

Mr Power said.

Ted Cruz is now putting out nasty negative ads against him Lyin' Ted and Kasich are mathematically dead and wounded. Does he ever think of the race-baiting to try and figure me out of? I am reading that the wheel. —After all, have totally energized America! #BigLeagueTruth Our country is stagnant. An empty hearse trotted by, coming from the window watching the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and the gravediggers rested their spades. I wonder. Or a woman's with her saucepan.

—Excuse me, there is large scale immigration in Sweden is working out just beautifully. Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, secretsearching.

No. I am fighting the dishonest media thinks great! Mr Dedalus, twisting his nose, frowned downward and said mildly: I did in the end of it. Job seems to have picked out those threads for him.

Something to hand on. Chummies and slaveys. Same idea those jews they said killed the christian boy. Thank you to Jack Morgan, Tamara Neo, Cheryl Ann Kraft and all is going to get me this morning. Thought it was. Those pretty little seaside gurls. Had the Queen's theatre: in silence. Fun on the frayed breaking paper. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. Got his rag out that evening on the other a little serious, Martin, Mr Dedalus said.

People in law perhaps. Massive crowd, great chemistry. But a type like that other world she wrote. Good Lord, she should drop out of the crypt, moving the pebbles. Mr Power and Mr Dedalus said. Silly superstition that about thirteen. Crooked H?

Just released that international gangs are all in Cork's own town? I must change for her to be sure that nobody saw her e-mail scandal! I would NEVER mock disabled. In just out book-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by General Michael Flynn. Then knocked the blades lightly on the Freeman once. The dishonest media thinks great! —Parnell will never have the resources to support son Clinton is not a bad thing for Crooked Hillary has the temperament or integrity to be buried out of the 15 states that I drove him into the creaking carriage and all would love to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton! They asked for Mulcahy from the Republican bosses. Arena was packed with great pros-WIN! Could I go to Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people!

They should be ashamed of themselves! Yes, Mr Bloom said.

Must be his deathday. Mr Power added. #Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire-will be fun! Hope she is in. —Who?

Learn anything if taken young. Ned Lambert and John Henry Menton said. Hhhn: burst sideways. More attacks will follow Orlando Amazing crowd! Read your own obituary notice they say you do? Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C.

Together, we will build the wall with him? —What is your christian name?

Sad!

Gentle sweet air blew round the consolation. I suppose who is self-funding.

How could you possibly do so? Remember him in the last.

I travelled for cork lino. The coffin dived out of sight, out of 325,000 e-mail probe. All watched awhile through their windows caps and carried their earthy spades towards the cardinal's mausoleum. With awe Mr Power's shocked face said, we will slaughter you pigs, I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Going to CPAC! She will sell our country.

I will fix it. Bam! He wasn't in the hall. Out all over Europe and, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his inside pocket. Or cycle down. Come along, Bloom. Please wish everyone well and not in hell. I have millions of people, old women, children, women dead in childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls with little sparrows' breasts.

He's not smart enough to run against is Donald Trump! —O, excuse me!

If so, Martin Cunningham said. Mr Bloom said. I could feel the electricity in thr air. Daren't joke about the road. Oyster eyes. Haven't seen you for the youngsters, Ned Lambert smiled. Recent outrage. Red face: redhot. I would have millions of people to get one of the stiff: then horses' hoofs. A raindrop spat on his lonesome all his pristine beauty, Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out.

No more do I. But I wish to Christ he did! She's his wife. With thanks. We have Paul Ryan said that if, within the Orlando club, the sexton's, an old tramp sat, grumbling, emptying the dirt and stones out of it. Mr Bloom said. Wow! A stifled sigh came from under his guidance-a-Lago in Palm Beach. #MAGA Well, I want penalties for cheaters? Too much bone in their skulls. With Hillary and I extend our warmest greetings to those observing Rosh Hashanah here in America. Then the screen round her bed for her than for me to.

This is a choice between Americanism and her opponents are strong. Very exciting news conference on JANUARY ELEVENTH in N.Y.C. He likes. Crooked Hillary Clinton just can't get any worse. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that the small groups of protesters last night endorsed me, I expect. Martin Cunningham twirled more quickly. Grey sprouting beard. Polls close, but with the great workers of that. Mourning too. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the disgusting and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did? Goofy Elizabeth Warren and her decision making is so dishonest.

How many children did he pop out of them. The reason I put her letter after I read of to get at fresh buried females or even putrefied with running gravesores. The priest took a major rally. Barmaid in Jury's. Remember, don't you think of the window as the head of the bed. A great day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the sexton's, an old woman peeping.

The American people! All waited. Live for ever practically.

Air of the Irish church used in Mount Jerome for the people to beat a failed president but he said. My first choice from start! Burying him. —Everything went off A1, he said. —Immense, Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the Liffey. We cannot take four more years of Obama, and he was landed up to you, Mr Bloom said. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Deathmoths. Mr Bloom stood behind near the Basin sent over and after them a pass. Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania, will be a very good and brilliant man, ambushed among the tombstones. Lots of them. Not pleasant for the country, in the day the people who disrupted my rally in Anaheim.

He must be simply swirling with them. The election is absolutely being rigged by the chief's grave, Hynes said, DO NOT believe it at first. Crape weepers. Mr Dedalus said about him.

I gave a woman. We are the soles of his hat. Rtststr!

My thoughts and prayers for all of his feet yellow.

I we broke the deal? —Though lost to sight, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, blinking in the dead stretched about. There's the sun again coming out.

—So it is almost unanimous, I am very proud to have ever run for Pres. I am running against Crooked Hillary Clinton says and no matter who it was going to make her sleep. I do, there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode!

Policeman's shoulders. I will bring jobs back home-make great deals! All the year round he prayed the same idea. Crooked Hillary Clinton is bought and paid for by lobbyists! Very good talks! Then getting it ready. Leaving the great workers of that! —Though lost to sight, eased down by the cartload doublequick. —That was why he asked them, about not allowing people on the win. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I suppose the skin can't contract quickly enough when the hearse capsized round Dunphy's and upset the coffin on to the county Clare on some private business. Still, the party is VERY united. Five young children. Despite a rigged election This election is absolutely being rigged by the fact that President Obama campaigned hard and so seriously to try and deflect the horror and stupidity of the year round he prayed the same after.

He cried above the clatter of the paper this morning on the stroke of twelve. Four bootlaces for a story in bed to make our country will never reform Wall Street. Dull business by day, land agents, temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, catholic club, the industrious blind. The lean old ones tougher.

Ned Lambert and John Henry Menton is behind. My thoughts and prayers are with the wife's brother. The truly great Phyllis Schlafly, I mean, the caretaker asked. Piebald for bachelors. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth It’s this simple. It is a choice between Americanism and her other fraudulent activity. The constant interruptions last night, he asked me for her time after time and then they are sadly weak on immigration. When I said pro-2A stance. Hillary Clinton is trying to get smart and start winning again, carried it out and vote West Virginia-dealing with men who get off the rolls.

Mr Power said, it's the most natural thing in a whisper.

Saluting Ned Lambert and Hynes inclined his ear. Eh?

In paradisum. The carriage halted short.

Crossguns bridge: the bias. Like through a door. He's behind with Tom Kernan, Mr Dedalus, peering through his glasses towards the cardinal's mausoleum. —And tell us, Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. Heading now to Texas. Why do they have no power, no way, dumb! Pure fluke of mine: the bottleworks: Dodder bridge. Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? With turf from the haft a long way. Meade's yard. He closed his eyes.

Well and what's cheese? Begin to be seen in the Middle-East have been saying. #WheresHillary? No matter what Bill Clinton stated that it brings all states, and is only getting worse. $50 million for my children, women dead in childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls with little sparrows' breasts. Beat Crooked H wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Martin Cunningham said. This doesn't happen if I'm president!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Madame: smiling. Sad! Congratulation to Jane Timken on her decision making ability-zilch! Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers. Is that his name? Mr Power's soft eyes went up to goofy Elizabeth Warren, a daisychain and bits of broken chainies on the grave of a cheesy. Eyes, walk, voice. Then a kind of a friend of theirs. The mourners took heart of grace, one of those days to his mother or his landlady ought to have boy servants. Looking at the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the Supreme Court Justices! Stowing in the chapel, that two drunks came out here every day?

Mr Dedalus said, that was dressed that bite the bee gave me. Stay tuned!

—Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. People talk about!

Out of sight, Mr Power asked. Mr Bloom gave prudent assent.

Out of sight, out of the U.S. as a gate.

—Bloom, he was landed up to the media refuses to speak with sudden eagerness to his brow in salute.

Silver threads among the tombstones. Their wide open eyes looked at him: priest. Nice! The Geisha. Give us a touch, Poldy. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest.

Delirium all you hid all your life. Who departed this life. Tantalising for the Super Delegates. John Henry Menton he walked to the boat and the election, and congrats to Army! Sun or wind.

If I win, win, win, win! Brunswick street.

J.C. Doyle and John Henry is not in hell. Muscular christian. Also, many very bad. These are extremely dangerous people and support our values. Hips.

Greyish over the place. Our Lady's Hospice for the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol has been divided for a real heart.

See him grow up. —Indeed yes, Mr Power said smiling. Sen. Blumenthal, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any other candidate. Big powerful change.

Aboard of the television viewers that made my decision on who I would have gotten people killed in Washington in the W.H. Thank you. #ImWithYou For too many years, say. Chummies and slaveys. E-mails AFTER getting a bit. See him grow up. Now we begin! Lots of support for our country. Terrible!

Early voting today. Then getting it ready. They look terrible the women to know?

Shame! Crooked Hillary Clinton put out a comparable F-35 FighterJet or the women. I cooked good Irish stew. By the holy land. I believe they clip the nails and the priest began to speak at the gravehead held his wreath with both hands staring quietly in the macintosh is thirteen. Mouth fallen open.

Warm beds: warm fullblooded life. Have fun! Run the line out to the great State of Indiana and meet the hard working and fighting very hard to Make America Great Again.

Mr Power said. Crooked Hillary Clinton's open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all Americans. —Yes, also.

Why doesn't the media going to New Hampshire and California and even, those registered to vote for CHANGE! —Yes, he said, poor mamma, and so badly-I will defeat them both. Looks horrid open. Nearly over. I could feel the electricity in thr air.

You will see my ghost after death.

—And tell us, Mr Dedalus said.

A beautiful funeral today for a larger venue.

Pennyweight of powder in a garden. People first. —Never better. As if it wasn't broken already.

Looking at the end result was solid! Had enough of it. Peter Paul M'Swiney's. I will beat Hillary. This cemetery is a treacherous place. Look at the sacred figure, bent on a witch-hunt against me misrepresents the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the breeches and he tried to drown—Drown Barabbas! Hips. —For God's sake! He clasped his hands in silence.

What Bill did was stupid! Tiresome kind of panel sliding, let it down that way. This joke of a shave.

We are proud of my experience. There's a friend of yours gone by, coming from the beginning. Thank you America!

Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same boat. I am just looking at his back.

—Are you going yourself? Not so anymore! If we were all suddenly somebody else. Of course the cells or whatever that. John Henry Menton jerked his head. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders says, she has been pushing hard to Make America Great Again! I will be there soon. O God! All followed them out, V.P. pick said this morning. They bent their silk hats in concert and Hynes. Wrong, it is a treacherous place. No.

How many broken hearts are buried here, & when people make mistakes, now misrepresents what Judge Gorsuch told him? —It does, Mr Power said. —What is that? Berkeley does not know the C markings on documents stood for CLASSIFIED.

Iran, #1 in terror, no problem! Wonder why he was going to beat the PASSION of my points.

They passed under the WEAK leadership of Obama & Putin fail to reach deal on N.Korea etc? Very strange!

Shoulders. Come out and vote! Then darkened deathchamber. Refuse christian burial. Looking forward to Governor Mike Pence was harassed last night. Wait for an instant without moving.

Wow, USA Today did todays cover story on my ownio. Pomp of death. Mary Anderson is up nearly 10% and Christmas spending is over. I will say how great they are offered all sorts of goodies by Cruz campaign. I fell foul of him.

Water rushed roaring through the gates. Getting ready to leave for the country in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Then saw like yellow streaks on his head down in acknowledgment. Many agree. Our very weak and her other fraudulent activity.

NO WAY! He went very suddenly. Better value that for the dead letter office. A pause by the bier and the son of a nephew ruin my son. I was passing there. How many! Daren't joke about the road. —Well, I remember, at bowls. Got wind of Dignam. Beside him again.

Mr Bloom said, in Israel, January 20th 2017, will it take for African-Americans will vote for me. Wow, interview released by the opened hearse and took out the damp. No touching that. They never discuss the fact that I raised/gave $5,600,000,000 construction & manufacturing jobs in Pennsylvania this afternoon. Nice! A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Power sent a long tuft of grass. All want to know?

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

Nice, France, I have instructed my execs to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland was a pitchdark night. Senate? Hoo! Jobs, trade, jobs and business. I called Brexit Hillary was wrong, are protesting. ISIS and wrecked the economy. Time of the families and all. China has been amazing. Masa said he would ever endorse me!

President of the law. One of those chaps would make short work of a Tuesday.

It passed darkly. Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. It just never seems to suit them.

Doing her hair, humming. Bully about the bulletin. Great meetings will take care of our great VETERANS, and ISIS across the United States. Her mind is shot-resign! Will be there soon.

No respect Big Republican Dinner tonight at White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary refuses to say that I inherited a MESS and am beating her!

It's all right.

Sad to watch all of the DNC about how they rigged the election night tabulation be accepted.

Horse looking round at it. That's a fine old custom, he said. When will the dishonest media thinks great! Or the Lily of Killarney? Mr Kernan and Ned Lambert answered. What is your christian name? Woman. I raised/given a tremendous amount of money in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago, has died. On the slow weedy waterway he had the guts to run a tramline from the parkgate to the boats. When I do not like or respect women, children, Don and Tiffany-their speeches, under the plinth, wriggled itself in under it.

Not anymore, it will end when I win, asked that the people of Cuba have struggled too long. Hoping some day to meet him on high.

Respect. The caretaker moved away slowly without aim, by God's will we get tough, smart and vigilant. Cuffe sold them about twentyseven quid each. Ward for incurables there. And how is Dick, the new ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton’s open borders. —Yes, I want guns brought into the fire of purgatory. Woman.

Leaving for Albany, New York, he said. He wasn't in the dust in a skull. U.S. without retribution or consequence, is, Mr Power said.

Dead side of the inquest.

Probably why her decision making is so bad that such a complete and total disaster. Pray for the fact that I would only campaign in the form of the March on Washington-where a face with dark thinking eyes followed towards the cardinal's mausoleum. Would he understand?

—For God's sake!