#so here’s to hoping that the earwigs don’t return

[twentysidednerd]

hoping i rid myself of my connection to The Corruption by desecrating the ritual site that has become my abode (i finally trimmed the bushes outside of my window and pulled a literal fucking vine out of my A/C unit so hopefully that means i stop getting so many bugs in my room) (the spider i found last night doesn’t count, my room’s always kinda been prone to those. damn you, Annabelle Cane)

[late-to-the-party-81]

Power Play - Chapter 4

AN: Flashback time! Thank you all for the love on this series. And kisses to the folks behind @buckybarnesevents

I’ve chosen the prompt How did you meet… Undercover mission

Beta’d by @buckysbarne

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me

Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master list | Chapter 3

Summary: Your thoughts return to the night of the Gala, when you met Bucky for the first time, before you knew how your life was about to change.

Relationship: Mob! Bucky x Undercover Agent! Reader

WC: 2.7k

CW: Soft!Dark! Bucky, Canon Typical Violence, Angst, Russian Pet names as mangled by Google translate, Walker being a creep, quite a bit of internal monologue, light alcohol consumption, physical altercations, drugging and kidnap.

You took a deep breath in, held it, and then let it out. 

You could do this.

Hopefully, if you told yourself that enough times, it would become true.

Because it had taken far too long for you to get here, just for it to all get thrown away by an attack of nerves.

You raised your eyes back to the mirror in front of you, turning this way and that to look over your outfit. Your hands nervously smoothed out non-existent wrinkles from the cool satin. This dress was obviously expensive - it had to be, to make you look the part - and that was enough to send your anxiety spiking again. What would happen if you ruined it? Would you be billed, or would the cost just get written off by the agency? You hoped it was the latter, as you couldn’t afford to be a whole paycheck down just to replace a dress.

Leaning over, you adjusted the straps on your shoes - they were probably just as expensive as the dress - then stood back up to pat over your hair and inspect your make-up. You barely recognised the woman looking back at you.

The door suddenly opening behind you had you whirling around, hand to your chest as you were caught off guard. Blue eyes, sparkling with amusement, looked back at you, and you couldn’t help but let your frustration show.

“What the hell, John. Ever heard of knocking? I might not have been ready yet.”

“You hadn’t locked the door, hot stuff. Seems to me that you liked the idea of getting caught changing.” 

He leaned his tall body back against the door, completely blocking your exit, and his eyes roamed over you, obvious in his lecherous appreciation.

“You should wear clothes like this more often. Makes your tits look awesome.”

“Pig!”

He took two steps across the small dressing room and tucked his finger, roughly tipping up your chin so you couldn’t look away from him. You suppressed a shudder.

“Careful, sweetheart. You don’t want to upset me. Now, as much as I’m enjoying the view and this scintillating conversation, it’s almost go-time. For your own sake, you’d best not fuck this up. If this op goes wrong, you’ll be lucky if you only get bumped down to the post room.”

You scowled up at him and then ducked out from under his arm.

“Thanks for the pep talk. Do you big up Hoskins like that when he goes on an op?”

“Of course not, baby. Lemarr knows what he’s doing.”

You turned your back, rolling your eyes, and picked up the small earwig from the tiny dresser top. Carefully, you placed it into your ear and then rearranged your hair to act as an extra shield against it being noticed. Looking across at the knife and thigh holster that were still waiting for you, you hesitated. Not because you were worried about carrying the weapon, but because John was still in the room, and you were certain he wasn’t planning on going anywhere, especially if you were going to have to expose a lot of skin to put the damn holster on. 

With a sigh, you angled yourself away from him as much as possible, sliding the black fabric up your leg as high as you could get it before pulling it tight and then sheathing the knife. As you raised your head, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, and then, to your horror, also saw Walker’s reflected smirk.

Fuck.

He looked like the cat that had caught the cream, but there was nothing you could do about it now - it was time to head out for your first undercover mission. The one that would make or break your career.

You tried not to stare, reminding yourself that you’d been in places like this before. However, that snarky little part of you was happy to remind you that being in a ball room like this during the day, or as a member of staff was a vastly different experience to being in one as a guest, even if it was a front.

The whole place was overwhelming. The lights. The decorations. The music. The sheer number of people.

“Stop standing like a statue. Mingle. Find him. Do your job.”

Walker’s voice was harsh in your ear, but for once it gave you the push you needed. He was right - again, a rare thing in your opinion. You had a mission to do. You had to find your mark, the dangerous head of the Brooklyn mob, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and you were to do your best to work your way into his inner circle. You’d done your research into his legitimate businesses and the shady ones he was almost certainly linked to. It was the latter where you came in - no-one had ever been able to make anything stick. 

The plan was to play the vapid, good-time party girl and flatter him. Lead him on and make him comfortable enough to talk about his business in front of you. Well, that was Walker’s plan, anyway. You weren’t sure if it would work, but you had your own ideas in reserve.

Shaken out of your stupor by John’s nagging, you made your way toward the bar. You skirted the dancefloor, watching out of the corner of your eye, and feeling a dart of jealousy as you watched women being whirled around the floor by competent men. You had no idea if you could actually dance, at least like that - you’d never had the opportunity.

Reaching the bar, which was just as impressive as the rest of the room, you ordered a lime and soda. You wanted to keep your wits about you, and you could easily pretend it had vodka or gin in it, if someone enquired. Drink in hand, you turned around, leaning against the bar and started your proper surveillance of the wide open space. It was a good place to watch and be watched, which unfortunately had its downsides. You were approached at least half a dozen times in the first thirty minutes, by mostly old men looking for either a good time for the night, or a new trophy girlfriend. Even if you had been here of your own volition, you’d have still been uninterested in the various offers.

When it finally happened, it was just like in the movies. Barnes appeared, and it was as though the throngs of people just split apart to let him through unimpeded. The light from the chandeliers in the ceiling seemed to highlight the tones of brown in his cropped hair, and his suit! Well, it was obviously well tailored, because he looked like he’d been poured into it.

He stopped at the bar a few feet along from you, a couple of other patrons in between.

Softly, softly, catchee monkey…

You didn’t move away from where you were, but turned your body slightly toward him. You sipped your drink, looking at him from over the rim of the glass. The photos you’d seen in the background file hadn’t done him justice. You’d thought him attractive enough, in that bad-boy style, when you’d looked through all the information, but here in the flesh? You had no idea how you’d even manage to talk to him if he were to turn his attention on you.

Get it together woman. He’s just a man. An extremely attractive one, but a man none-the-less.

Finishing your soda, you turned back to the bar, deciding that if you were going to have one alcoholic drink, now was the right time. You raised your hand to signal to the bartender, when there was movement in your peripheral vision, and a deep, melodious voice sounded in your ears.

“Whatever the lady wants, and a whiskey for me.”

Barnes proffered no card, that would be too gauche. No doubt the bill would be sent to his man of business tomorrow. You turned towards each other at the same time, but your words of introduction froze on your lips as you got swept up in his icy eyes.

“James Barnes, at your service. And you are?”

You realised he was holding out his hand to you and here you were, gaping like a fish. You giggled, trying to cover your faux pas, gave him your cover name and accepted his handshake.

Oh fuck!

The moment your skin met his it was as though a jolt of lightning shot through you.

You felt your eyes widen, and quickly turned your head, taking your hand back and paying attention to the bartender instead.

What the fuck was that?

It was like your whole body was alight, and one small, rational part of your brain was screaming ‘Abort! Abort!’ at you. But you couldn’t turn tail and run. You had too much to prove and everything to lose.

Having taken those few seconds to re-school your features you turned back to him, a smile plastered to your face.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. What brings you to this gathering, this evening.”

He smiled back, and you could have easily been fooled into thinking it was genuine.

“To see friends, old and new. To make connections and enjoy some stimulating conversation. And yourself?”

Inwardly you punched the air. You knew that playing the bimbo would be no good - Barnes was too intelligent a man to be happy with vacuous company. He would relish the push and pull of a real debate. It was a good thing you’d mentally prepared for this.

“The same really. I’m new to the city, and was lucky enough to get an invitation. I’m hoping to make some new friends, and if I’m lucky, some business connections. But there’s time for that. What business are you in?”

You could have sworn that you saw his eyes narrow for a second, but he was still smiling at you, sipping at his drink, before placing the glass back down on the bar. He plucked your vodka & tonic from your fingers and then took hold of your hand again.

“Dance with me.” Before you even had a chance to respond, he was pulling you out onto the dance floor. The small orchestra was playing something slow, which you were thankful for. That was until Barnes pulled you into his arms properly.

What you’d felt when he’d first shook your hand was nothing to the way your whole body was ablaze from being held so close by him. The way his left hand held yours so gently, and you couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that peeked out from under the cuff of his dress shirt. The way his right arm cradled you around your waist, holding your body flush against his. The way his face was now inches from yours and all you could do was shift your gaze back and forth between his pink lips and diamond blue eyes, while the scent of his cologne took over your olfactory senses.

You’d never thought yourself the type to have your head turned by pure masculinity, but currently, you were re-evaluating all of your previous life choices, whilst also willing your legs not to give out from underneath you. Although, if they did, you were also certain that Barnes would have no problems keeping you on your feet. And your previous thoughts about being whisked around the floor by a competent man? Well, now you knew how Cinderella had felt at the ball. You just had to remind yourself that you weren’t wearing glass slippers and the man holding you was definitely not a prince.

“You feel so good in my arms, milyy.”

“Umm, thank you. I haven’t really had that much opportunity to dance like this.”

He let out a deep chuckle, which reverberated through your body, settling in one spot, deep down in your abdomen.

“Well you dance wonderfully. I like the way you are letting me lead.” His head dipped even closer, his breath warm on your ear. “Good girl.”

You stumbled, tripping over your feet, but Barnes pulled you even closer, chuckling again as you tried to cover up what his words had done to you. He whirled you around again, and you couldn’t help your answering giggle. He smiled down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and for a moment you really thought you were going to manage this. That you were going to worm your way into his good books and be able to pick up on some useful intel.

However, you weren’t paying attention, and when he swung you off the dancefloor, in the far corner, you were too confused to put up any resistance, and he effortlessly steered you into a side room.

“What on earth? Mr. Barnes!” Your outrage was real and tinged with fear.

With a push he had you up against the wall, arms over your head and wrists pinned by one of his large hands. You were about to call out your operations safe word, the word that would get the rest of your team running to your aid, when Barnes reached up, brushed your hair back from your face and plucked the earwig right from your ear and threw it across the room, directly into the wastebasket.

“There. That’s better. Don’t want anyone listening in, but nor do I want the device to go offline and alert your colleagues to your current… predicament.”

Fuck. 

You were made. You wondered what you’d done to give yourself away? Your lip trembled as you thought about how you were never going to live this down, but then your lizard brain kicked in, letting you know it was worse than that. It reminded you that you were currently alone, with a fearsome and dangerous mob boss, and you were an exposed undercover agent.

Keep your cool!

“And what predicament would that be?” You arched your brow, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. Unfortunately, Barnes just chuckled at you.

“So brave, lyubimyy, despite the danger. Impressive. You aren’t weeping or begging, which is what I’d usually expect in this scenario.”

“Yeah… I don’t normally go for those types of reactions.” As you finished your retort you jammed your heel down on the toe of his shoe. It took him off guard, loosening his grip on your wrists, and you managed to bring your hands down, and cupping them together, cuffing him up the side of the head.

You whirled around - there was no time for inspecting the damage you’d done - you needed to get back out into the main area and head for the exit. Unfortunately Barnes was fast and you’d barely taken a step when you were jerked to a halt, accompanied by a ripping sound. He’d grabbed hold of your dress and jerked on it again to pull you down to your knees next to him. He pinched your jaw in his hand and looked down into your eyes. You couldn’t tell whether he was frustrated or amused, but either way, it didn’t bode well for you.

“You are like a little bee, malen’kaya pchelka. Always busy. Always focused, but with a little sting to deploy when provoked. Unfortunately for you, I am a wolf. I am bigger, stronger and have a much worse bite.”

You weren’t going to go out like this. You let out a shout, hoping that maybe it would get picked up by the earwig, despite it being nestled amongst goodness knows what rubbish in the trash basket. At the same time you gave him a shove with all of your strength,  the sound of your dress being further destroyed ringing in your ears. 

It was pointless though. You hadn’t even got to your feet when you were barreled down to the floor, Barnes’ larger, heavier body pinning you there.

“I’d hoped this part of our conversation would go differently, but you seem determined to make it difficult, Pchelka. So, I apologise for stinging you, but it seems like it’s the only way."

A pinch on your neck and your vision began to swim. The weight of his body disappeared but you couldn’t seem to move.

“W-what?” Your eyelids were heavy, and it was taking all your willpower to keep them open. 

 You felt yourself moving through the air, and then becoming even dizzier as you went upside down, presumably over Barnes’ shoulder from the way fabric rubbed over your face, your arms and legs dangling loosely.

“Don’t fight it, lyubimaya.”

“L-let me…” Your slurred words were cut off as the whole world went black…

Chapter 5

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Sway Me More | Mafia!Jungkook (M)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x Assassin!OC  

Part 2: Sway With Me (M) / Part 3: Sway Me Smooth 

Requested: Anonymous:

“ ok i think i got something. i was thinking e2l mafia leader!jk and assassin!oc. they're always competing on killing the same enemies and oc beats kook to it everytime but plot twist he's actually sleeping w oc in secret, his gang doesn't know that she basically does the dirty work for him. maybe a scene where jk is busy in his office and feels something is off and he and oc pull guns on one another but its just a form of power play bc that's their relationship. dirty talk, oral male receiving, reverse cowgirl in his office chair, choking, little bit of degradation bc one of the victims oc had to seduce but kook calls her his little slut bc he's possessive like that and they both just have lots of tattoos and piercings. maybe some light bondage too? he ties her hands and the petname sweetness? i love that shit sm. ok i'm out of ur hair now fksks ”

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, BTS mafia au, Smut, humor, e2l, angst, pining.

Length: 15,664k Words

Warnings: Strong language, lots of violence, minor deaths, guns, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dirty talk, BDSM(?), degradation kink, praise kink, light bondage, choking, breath play, spanking, rough sex (if you couldn’t tell), possessive!jungkook, Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes.

A/N:

1. Not sure if this counts as a Song Fic, but this ask immediately made me think of Sway With Me by Saweetie and GALAXARA hence the title so that was on repeat haha (Stream Birds of Prey: The Album and Stay Gold for clear skin!!).

2. I didn’t mean to make the OC that crazy she just kinda was. Like honestly I don’t know what happened at the end there. Also, I thought it would be a fun dynamic for them to only refer to each other by last names. (Y/L/N)

3. Shouts out to this anon for being so specific! Writing this fic ruined my search history.

3.b You said a little bit of degradation, but I mighta over did it lol.

4. This is really fucking long. For no reason...I’m not sorry, it’s all worth it in the end. Please leave a comment, let me know what you think

Jungkook sat in the back seat of his black town car parked at the street corner, his eyes never leaving a specific window of the skyscraper adjacent to him. He watched as the piece of shit who meddled with his gang’s last drug deal canoodled with his lady friend in his apartment. Probably a hooker, he thought. This particular criminal to land on the mafia’s hit list, has been known to bring home many a sex worker. 

He took a look at his Rolex and sighed; the man as slowly, but surely losing patience. They’ve been here for a good hour. A hit has never taken this long to complete for Jungkook’s team. He communicated his frustrations to his sniper, Taehyung, who was camped out in the building directly across from the apartments. 

“When the fuck is this bitch gonna leave?” He grumbled through his earwig to his employee and friend. Taehyung laughs tiredly. 

“Yeah, I’m asking myself the same thing. They���re not even fucking, they’ve been talking and kissing for like thirty minutes.” The sniper griped.

Jungkook chuckled, hearing the response in his ear. “Just stay sharp. Or you’re back on cockfight duty.”

Taehyung paused. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Just focus, yeah?” Jungkook said, refocusing his binoculars to check on the couple in the apartment so that he could see them clearly. The bright lights in the room and the lack of curtains or shades helped him out immensely with that.

“Sure thing, boss.” 

Jungkook could barely craft a response due to the shock that took over him at what happened next. He watched as the female sitting to the left of the target with her legs draped over his thighs, pulled a knife, seemingly out of her crotch, and stabbed the white collar criminal in the gut at lightning speed. 

He lurched up in pain and grabbed at the knife only for his date to pull it out and stab him again, making deep eye contact all the while. She was obviously a strong woman to overpower a man of his burley stature. But why would she want to?                                                                                                                                                        

“What the fuck was that?” Jungkook asked immediately, continuing to watch the scene unfold carefully.

“Looks like his date just stabbed him.” Taehyung responded, just as confused as his superior. 

“I can fucking see that, but why the fuck would the hooker kill him?” He raised his voice in annoyance. The murderous hooker finished the job, wiping her fingerprints off of the knife still lodged in the target's stomach and travelled to  a nearby closet. 

Jungkook watched, overcome with awe and confusion, as she returned with a duffle bag. And his jaw literally drops when he sees her pull white coveralls out of the duffle bag, put them on over her clothes and switch off the lights in the apartment, completely blocking Jungkook’s view.

“Fuck, what’s she doing now, Taehyung?” He asked quickly, knowing that the scope on his sniper had night vision. 

“She’s...cleaning the apartment...and the body.” 

So she’s done this before, Jungkook thought pensively.

“Do you recognize her?” He uttered, needing to know more about this woman  immediately.

“Hell no, I would remember this bitch.” The gunman responds instantly.  

“What the fuck is going on?” His boss muttered to himself and Taehyung took the liberty of answering him. 

“She’s leaving.” 

Jungkook cocked his head back in surprise. “Well that was fast.” 

 “You’re telling me...she’s making her way to the street. You want us to go after her?” 

He thinks about it. No harm done, he figured.

“No, leave her be. Less mess for us.” 

“Roger that.” Taehyung nodded and packed his things. Jungkook ordered his driver to take him home and they called it a very eventful day. 

What Jungkook didn’t count on was encountering that same perpetrator again...and again. Ever since he came across this deadly woman the first time, it’s like he can’t escape her now. “The Hooker”, as the mafia were calling her, had killed three more of the names on their hit list of people who had crossed them...directly before Jungkook’s men got the chance to do it themselves. 

And the fact that it didn’t affect the gang took a backseat to the amount of irritation it brought them and Jungkook for their victim to drop dead in front of them at the hands of someone else. It angered Jungkook because he didn’t know who she was or her motives. She was obviously dangerous and stealthy and could be coming for them next for all they knew. He knew he had to catch her and find out what she was about. 

“Alright, guys. You know what to do.” Jungkook huffed to his men through his earpiece as they prepared to ambush a traitor of the gang. He had been on the run recently, selling mafia secrets and tonight the gang would put an end to him and soon, everyone he blabbed to. 

After three days of following leads, they took to tracking and set out after him. Jungkook and his members followed the conspirator from a distance and three different sides in an attempt to corner him in the ominous dark of the night. They were closing in on the ex-gang member consistently and it all seemed to come to fruition when he shuffled into a dark alley. 

This is too easy, the mafia boss thought enthusiastically to himself. Jungkook and six of his men sped up in pursuit, hoping to trap the imbecile before he realized he was a dead end. Finally, the group turned into the alley quickly, expecting to find a young man ready to shit his pants. Instead they found his slumped over corpse that had been propped up against a dumpster. 

Jungkook’s spine straightened in astonishment. They literally just saw him walk into the alley and he just drops dead? Each of the men look around for who could have done this in possibly two minutes flat. The leader draws his gaze to the roof directly in front of him and grinds his teeth in anger at the sight in front of him. The Hooker from weeks ago stood above them with an amused smirk on her face in a black, hooded catsuit. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” He roared.

“Would you clean that up for me? Thanks.” She deflected playfully and took off in the opposite direction, jumping from one rooftop to another.

“Get her.” Jungkook said calmly, still looking at the spot where the woman was previously standing. He’s had enough of this nonsense and he would be getting answers.

The gang moves out immediately, splitting up in search of the murderer. Two of them take the firescape closest to them, while the remaining men circle around the buildings to cut her off eventually. In the meantime, Jungkook calms himself down and examines the body.

“How did she even do this?” He pulled a leather glove from his breast pocket and moved the head of the deceased to the right side, looking him over carefully. He promptly noticed bruising around his neck and blood on the crown of his head.

“She choked you out that fast...without making a sound?” He whispered, completely impressed, but absolutely irritated at the same time. He sighed, at a loss and took it upon himself to actually dispose of the body. He waited in the alley with his arms crossed, thinking of how he wanted to interrogate this possible threat. 

His men communicated to him that the woman had seriously injured Jimin and Suga and that Hoseok and Jin would stay with them, but the good news was that they caught her and were on their way back.

“Wonderful.” He sighed sarcastically into his earpiece. 

After thirty long minutes, Namjoon and Taehyung re-entered the alley, this time carrying their new victim by her arms, her hands restrained behind her back with the rope originally meant for the traitor. She struggled against their hold as they made their way in until she laid eyes on Jungkook. 

She straightened slowly and walked with confidence, studying him thoughtfully as they passed the mafia leader and turned her to face him while forcing her to her knees. She winced slightly as her knee caps came in contact with the hard, wet ground.

The three of them watched carefully as the leader paced back and forth leisurely, his gaze focused on the puddles on the ground with his hand picking at nothing in particular on his lip. His train of thought was disrupted when the voice of the woman echoed through the alley.

“You gonna say something?” She scoffed impatiently. Jungkook turned to her slowly, revealing his dark, disapproving facial expression. He didn’t miss the flash of mischief in her eyes when they finally made eye contact.

“You incopacitated two of my men.” He started, continuing to walk back and forth in front of them with his hands behind his back. 

“They were chasing me.” She shrugged.

Jungkook stopped in his tracks at the negligence of her tone. He turned on his heel to face his suspect with a serious face. “Who are you and why do you keep killing my targets?” he demanded, just wanting to get to the point of why they were here. A humored smile broke out across her face.

“Your targets? Someone’s a little full of themselves.” She giggled innocently.

“Tell me and I won’t take a hammer to both your shoulders.” He said smoothly looking deeply into her eyes making sure he got his point across. 

Her cocky smirk dissipates but doesn't completely disappear. 

“You don’t have a hammer.” she muttered to herself, thinking that the mafia leader couldn’t hear her. He just gave her a pointed look, silently telling her to continue. She licks her lips slowly while holding Jungkook’s stormy gaze. 

“I was paid, you asshole.” She muttered.

“By who?” 

“No one you and your goons need to worry about.” He sighed and looked up in frustration. “Why?” 

The woman shook her head furiously. “Are you daft? It’s my job, obviously.” 

Jungkook whipped his head in her direction, his eyes widening slightly and his voice taking on a more agitated tone. 

“You disrespect me one more time and I’m gonna slap that smug smirk off your face.” He warned her harshly.

“Promises, promises.” She sang with that self-satisfied grin that he was having mixed feelings about. 

With that, Jungkook swifty brought his hand up to backhand the assailant and jumped in her direction, but stopped when his hand was halfway to her face. She didn’t move an inch or even blink. She even narrowed her eyes at him playfully. 

He backed away from her, impressed. She may have earned some of Jungkook’s respect that day, but he would never tell a single soul about it. He composed himself, eyeing her carefully. He then enganges her in a more calm conversation.

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does your employer know who I am?” 

“I have multiple. Some do.” She shrugs coolly. 

“What do they—” 

“Look we know you're in charge of the mafia, or whatever, but we don’t care. The people I’ve killed have wronged more than just you and your circus of idiots here and they deserved to die.” She gestured to the two henchmen holding her in place. 

“Besides I did you a favor. Several, actually. I’m a blessing in disguise.” She smiled sweetly.

Jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass is what you are.” 

“Oh, what a pleasure. And how do you figure that?” 

“Some mysterious...aggressor taking out a number of important people on the east side. Wouldn’t that alarm you in my position?” He queried with a raised, pierced brow. 

“Mysterious? Mr. Jeon, do you find me attractive?” She leans forward and is yanked back in place by the men flanking her. She held a suddenly sultry and intense light behind her eyes directed at Jungkook. 

He couldn’t deny her beauty; anything with a pulse would be attracted to her. Seeing her up close, he noticed her many piercings along her ears, on her septum and her left brow, just like his. He could see tattoos peeking out from her sleeves and neckline of her suit and he wondered just how much of her body was covered by tattoos. 

He was trying not to let that get in the way of this interrogation and failing miserably with his mind wandering in dangerous directions. It didn’t help that he couldn’t look her in the eye for too long, her gaze was so captivating and somehow held so many emotions that they caused him to lose focus. 

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “What is your name?” 

“Deathstalker.” Wow, Jungkook thought to himself. 

“You wanna tell me your real name?” He offered, nodding at her.

“That’s the only name you're gonna get. And just a heads up, I’m not gonna talk if you torture me.” She says confidently with hooded lids. Is she bored?, the mob boss thought. He began to pace for a few moments, the only sound in the alley coming from his designer shoes squelching against the damp concrete.

“No...no, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jungkook decided. The two henchmen that were restraining the woman, looked up in shock. Jungkook has injured or killed people for far less than what she’s done in the past hour. 

She tilts her head uncomfortably in the hold of the gang members, to get a good look at the mafia leader’s face. She gasps and beams as if she’s had an epiphany. 

“You like me.” She settled. 

He whips around to face her. “What are you on about?” 

“I thought I was gonna have to seduce you to get you off my back, but it seems you already have a soft spot for me.” She deduced with an appeased grin on her face. 

Jungkook’s breathing deepened. He thought quickly of what he could do to draw the attention away from the truth of her statement. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she was different from any of the other suspicious characters he’s interrogated. And for some reason he didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t be seen as weak in front of his inferiors. 

In a flash, he was directly in front of her, teeth clenched and gripping her face tightly in his strong hand. His fingers pressed roughly into her jaw, her cheeks were forced to scrunch up, obscuring her vision and her mouth was bound to a permanent, painful pout. 

“Stop spewing nonsense, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last woman on earth. You’re too dirty.” He lied gratingly. “I don’t have soft spots for anyone and you would do well to learn that. Come into my sight again and you’ll see what kind of damage I can really do.” He seethed. 

“Hot.” Deathstalker replied through forcibly clenched teeth. Jungkook sighed before flimsily releasing her chin, flinging it to the right causing her to wince. Jungkook inwardly did the same at the sight. 

“Let her go.” The henchmen do as they are told. “Get out of my sight.” She got up off her knees awkwardly with her bound wrists.

“I’m sure you know how to get rid of that yourself.” Jungkook nodded at the rope around her wrists. She nodded back casually and walked passed Jungkook, brushing up against him as she did so. 

“Catch you on the flip side.” She whispered to him before she took off in a run into the night.

Three weeks had passed without a surprise appearance from “Deathstalker” and Jungkook was beginning to think she had actually heeded his warning in the alley. He should be pleased with this fact, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Not only was the thought of her ingrained in his mind, but he was slowly convincing himself that maybe he did appreciate her services even if he wasn’t the one paying for them. His men seem to have gotten lazier with the physical side of organized crime since Jungkook’s encounter with Deathstalker. 

Or perhaps with no one to properly clean up the mess left after a hit, he’s noticing just how sloppy they’ve been. Either way, people are talking and names are traveling through the air like pollution; they can’t go on like this. 

He and his men have been actively searching for the assassin and any information they could find on her. The leader didn’t disclose his true motives to his foot soldiers for fear of looking weak, but he couldn’t have the feds knocking down the doors of his companies and he was desperate. They succeeded in finding her real name, her past hits and the names of some of her employers, but nothing on where she was hiding or how to contact her. 

Jungkook curses himself for not realizing Deathstalker’s worth sooner and tries to calm his rampant mind by chugging his flute of champagne. He looks around, disinterested at the ostentatious group of people at the pompous event he was advised to attend. 

As the head of the leading construction company on the east side and since no one suspected his night job, he showed his face in these environments from time to time. This one happens to be an art auction and Jungkook was regretting it by the minute. 

He quickly snagged one more flute of champagne before taking his seat in the front row for the auction. Half-way through the auction he considers leaving, he hasn’t raised his number card once as none of the pieces appealed to him. His head began to lull back out of pure boredom before he heard an all-too familiar voice above the noise. 

“Two million dollars!” The voice was forthright and attractive, causing every head to turn in it’s direction. 

Jungkook didn’t have to look far as the owner of the voice was sitting in the front row as well, roughly twelve seats away. His eyes widened at his suspicions being proven correct. He stares at her for a few moments, taking in her full appearance since meeting her for the first time in the alley. 

She traded in the black cat suit for a peach colored cocktail dress that hung off of one shoulder and blinding white pumps. She covered up her tattoos with makeup to Jungkook’s dismay, but still showed off her many piercings and her long wavy hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. That’s a good look, thought Jungkook who spared her one last glance before settling into his seat and devising a plan for how the rest of the night will go. 

The auction finally came to an end and the elites took to day drinking and networking once more. Jungkook blended in with the crowd, but kept a close eye on Deathstalker, waiting to find her away from her companions. He spotted her amongst strangers, nursing a glass of champagne and intently watching the middle aged crooner sing along with the orchestra.

When Marimba Rhythms start to play

Dance with me 

Make me sway

Then he pounced.

He positioned himself behind her and leaned in to speak softly into her ear. “What are you doing here?” 

She didn’t flinch or even react to his words, as if she knew he was there, and just continued to enjoy the music. She never failed to impress him.

“Well, killing all your targets actually counts for something. I’m spending my hard earned money on some fine art.” She smiled after a moment. Jungkook came to stand next to her instead. He took a swig from his drink, the two of them still not making eye contact. “You know it’s not polite to brag.” 

She finally turns to him to show off her expensive outfit. “Does this dress scream humble to you?” 

“No, but it does scream desperate.” He took her in, using it as an excuse to check her out. That cat suit didn’t do her legs justice in his opinion, but this ensemble has his approval. 

“For what?” She demanded, cocking her head to the side. 

“You tell me—” 

“You’re full of shit, Jeon.” The assassin sneered and quickly turned to walk away. Jungkook catches her by the bicep at the last second, attempting to make it look playful and desperately trying to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Wait.” He smoothly but firmly pulled her back to him, guiding her left hand to his shoulder and holding onto her right one before leading her in a slow dance towards the dance floor. He told himself he needed a more discreet position to confide his intentions in her ear again. 

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close

Sway me more

“I have a proposition for you.” 

She glances up at him, sporting narrowed and curious eyes. “Oh? This should be good. Last time you saw me, you threatened to hammer my limbs in.” She swiftly stomped on his foot, with a tight-lipped, spiteful smile. 

He groaned and gathered himself with closed eyes before getting down to business. “Drop the attitude Y/L/N.” Jungkook grumbled, causing the assassin to freeze, but he made sure to keep them moving. She switches from her normal playful demeanor to a more formidable version of herself and he is almost alarmed by the switch. She leans closer to him to reach his ear and drops her voice to a grave whisper.

“How did you know my last—” 

Jungkook doesn’t back down from her close, menacing form and goes as far as to tease her with a satisfied smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not the only computer genius in this room okay?”

She only glares off into the distance, clenching her jaw. 

“What?” Jungkook revels in the feeling of having the upper hand on her. “My men may not be able to catch you in action, but they do know their way around a file cabinet.” He shares proudly, biting his lip with joy.

Realizing the leverage he had over her, Y/N made the decision to hear him out. “What the fuck do you want?” She spat before Jungkook spun her and dipped her quickly. And though she was angry, she moved with grace and he couldn’t help, but admire her beauty. 

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

“You.” He smirks, already missing her playful personality and hoping to bring it back out. He smiles wider when he succeeds.

She finally cracks a smile and throws her head back, unable to stop herself from laughing. “That’s funny, I thought you wouldn’t fuck me if I were the last woman on earth.” She threw his line back at him effortlessly.

The mob boss hesitates for a split second. “Okay, your memory is impeccable, I get it, but I’m talking about your services.” 

Y/N blinks in bewilderment before forming the words she never thought she would. “You want me to work for you?” He nods evenly.

“I’ve already killed five targets for you, Jeon. What more could you want?” She sputtered, not being able to fathom the request. Jungkook only releases her hand, keeping the other wrapped around her waist and nods to the empty balcony of the ballroom before leading her through it’s floor length glass doors. 

“Trust me, I’m well aware. It was insanely fucking annoying,” He said earnestly, making the assassin giggle. His heart seemed to lurch at the sound, but he ignored the pleasant pang in his chest to continue his proposal. “Until I noticed how well you clean up after yourself. Leaving almost no trace of your involvement at the crime scene.” 

He released Y/N’s waist carefully close to the door of the balcony, peering into the room to see who might be looking at them. They seemed to have a bit of privacy as of right now.

Y/N tilted her head and raised her eyebrows sincerely. “Are you really shocked that the neanderthals you hired aren’t too keen on cleaning up after themselves?” 

 “I’m trying to compliment you.” He sighed looking up.

 “You’re doing a pretty shit job.” She mumbled. He ignores her complaints and carries on. He tucks his hands into his pants pockets and walks towards her.

“My men haven’t been as stealthy as possible as of late and there’s talk that we may have caught the attention of the authorities.” 

“Again, are you surprised?” She overannunicated sassily with her arms crossed.

He marched up to her, towering over her small frame intimidatingly. “Don’t push it, Deathstalker.” He sneered at her. Her snark was beginning to piss him off. Why was he always so hot and cold with her?

“Or what?” She said seductively, suddenly snaking her arm around his torso and pressing herself against him. She gazed up at him, with flirtatious eyes

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek, gazing back down at the woman coolly. He considers feeding into her words and actions for a second, but figures it’s probably just one of her games so he tosses the idea. “I’m trying to make you an offer here.” He insisted. The mercenary sucks her teeth, lets go and turns to walk away. “Ugh you’re no fun...You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

The one time he tried to be professional. He pulls her back by the arm, forcefully pressing her into the stone wall next to the door of the balcony. He presses himself against her firmly while gripping her small waist with one hand and her chin with the other. 

"Fine,” He challenged. “Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you right here, up against this wall, like a little slut?" He spoke in a low voice so as not to concern the guests inside and the rumble of Jungkook’s voice in his chest made Y/N’s body start to heat up.  

His offer brings a genuine, delighted smile to her face. She tosses the idea around in her head while making heated eye contact with Jungkook. But that would never work, she thought bitterly. Her date would come looking for her soon. Not a good look when you're trying to bag a guy and rob him for his millions. So she decided to tease him instead, It was the perfect opportunity with him being all riled up like this. 

"I knew you liked me…” She let her sultry yet snide words linger, toying with the fabric of his collar. “But that would be unprofessional, Mr. Jeon...seeing as you are now my boss." she uttered softly, still keeping her seductive gaze. Jungkook briefly wonders if she could feel his dick twitch when she said his name like that before refocusing on the situation.

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

He took the sudden change of pace and her choice of words as her officially accepting his offer and released his hold on her with a grimace. She walks by him, smoothing down her dress with an unfazed expression and heads to the railing to take in the view, as if she wasn’t just assaulted by one of the most important men in the country. 

“So you’ll do it?” 

She kept her back to him, letting her heavy voice travel over her shoulder casually. “How much will you give me?” 

He joins her side, resting his hands on the railing. “Eight hundred, thousand.” 

She whips her head in his direction, an obviously offended expression on her face. “Do I look like one of your minions?” Y/N inquired. 

“It would be your first job with me, you gotta start somewhere.” He made a gesture with his hand, trying to reason with her.

“I started years ago and I’m good at my job. The best actually…I want a million.” She decided with a hand on her waist. 

Jungkook blinked repeatedly, taken aback. “You want me to give you a million dollars?”

“Yes, or no deal.” She answered quickly before he could even finish the question. The mafioso took a step back and laughed silently in disbelief. 

“You’re infuriating, you know tha—” 

“And you make me wanna vomit.” 

“You’re projecting.” 

“Oh, suck a dick Jeon!” She began marching towards the glass doors into the ballroom before Jungkook caught her by the arm and brought her back to him swiftly. 

“Fine, it’s yours.” He muttered, glaring down at her with frustrated eyes. 

The woman simply winked playfully at him and caressed his face. “I knew you’d come around.” She beamed looking satisfied and walked away only to be yanked back to Jungkook’s chest yet again. This time she grumbled in slight annoyance. He made a note to let up on the pulling. 

“If you cross me, we will kill you.” He said seriously. She only smiled as if he’d made a joke. 

“Unless I beat you to that too.” His face turned angry and he opened his mouth to speak when they heard the glass door open and a voice call toY/N. 

“Oh, Ruby, there you are. Is this guy bothering you?” An older gentleman in a suit and a gold chain spoke in a scraggly voice. Jungkook recognized him as Walter Schillings, a white collar criminal who has been giving Jungkook’s men a hard time and definitely landed himself on their hitist. 

Thankfully, the scum has never actually seen the mafia leader before so they were able to avoid a tricky situation at this crowded event. Though Jungkook had men scattered throughout the building in case anything went down, he never travelled alone. But, wait. Why was he referring to Y/N as Ruby?

The mafia leader had no time to figure it out because he had to explain why he was gripping this innocent looking woman the way he was. He lets go immediately and addresses the man. “We were just having a convers—” 

“No,” Y/N sighs and saunters over to Walter, grabbing his huge hand and having it encompass her small one. 

What the fuck is this? Jungkook thought, his heart suddenly racing. He tried to hide his emotions behind a cold demeanor. 

“Just some loser trying to get my attention.” She glanced back at Jungkook arrogantly, allowing Walter to slide an arm around her waist and kiss the side of her forehead as they re-entered the ballroom. 

Jungkook ground his teeth together at the sight and nearly sprinted to Walter to tear his arm off when he saw his hand reach down and grip Y/N’s ass. It bothered him even more that she hadn’t reacted whatsoever. 

He turned away and braced himself on the railing again, attempting to calm himself. “I hope she slits your goddamn throat, motherfucker.” He grumbled to himself, seething with anger. 

Jungkook spent the next fifteen minutes pouting on the balcony, gripping the railing in anger with a bothersome boner while the rich and famous boozed it up inside. Surprisingly no one had come out to bother him, giving him enough to time think about what he just saw. 

He didn’t know why the sight of Y/N with Walter infuriated him so, but he knew he never wanted to see it again. He wondered how she could flirt with him so heavily and then disregard him completely at the drop of a hat. He just wanted to make her eat her petty words, drive her as crazy as she seemed to be driving him. 

It didn’t help that he had been having fantasies of her for the past few weeks in that catsuit just letting him have his way with her. And here she comes, looking like sex on legs and clouding his judgement after disappearing for three weeks. Just who does she think she is? Jungkook sighed frustratedly at the pitiful turn his night had taken. 

He wished he had a distraction from his thoughts. He wished he could leave this vexatious place, but something was keeping him here and he had a feeling that, that something was a menace in a dress and liked to play mind games. 

Okay, so, the boner that won’t seem to go away may also be responsible for keeping him isolated on this balcony, but he had every intention of taking care of it. He just had to convince Y/N.

He quickly tucked his boner into his waistband and walked back into the ballroom like he never left, eyes peeled for Y/N’s small form among the guests. He sees her enter the restroom from afar and doesn’t think before pursuing her. 

On any other day Jungkook wouldn’t dream of executing what was going on in his head, but Y/N was admittedly the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen and she caused him to think purely with his dick after their interaction today. 

He doesn’t know how he managed to skip into the women’s restroom without setting off any of the guests, but he considers it a victory when he’s in and locks the door without thinking about it. He turned to find Y/N touching up her make-up at the large mirror above the sinks. 

They make eye contact through the mirror, but they have yet to exchange words. Y/N narrows her eyes questioningly while Jungkook considers the silence and stillness in the room. So far so good. 

Jungkook’s shoes clicked on the tile floor as he took a few steps away from the door. “Where did your date go?” He questioned casually.

Y/N finally pauses touching up her face. “He also went to the bathroom, what are you doing in here?” She answers speedily, watching him intently through the mirror. “We made our deal.” 

“I came to see you…” The woman hums in understanding and starts on her lipstick again, seemingly uninterested. “You getting all dolled up for him?” Jungkook finishes.

“Essentially yes.” There is a pause before Jungkook just comes out with it. 

“So you gonna sleep with him tonight?” 

Deathstalker scoffed. “Of course not. I’m an assassin not a hooker.” 

Jungkook muffles a laugh at the inside joke amongst him and his men when his new ally finally starts to show some interest. “Why do you care anyway?” 

He walks up to her boldly, gripping her waist and pressing against her from behind causing her to put the make-up down and zero in on his face. She continued to watch his eyes when he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I just wonder what he would say if I messed up this pretty little face.” He brings his hand up to gently grip her chin, unlike how he did earlier. She smiles slightly, making no attempt to free herself from his grasp. If anything she leans more into his touch.

“Mr. Jeon.” She drawled. “Are you still threatening me?” She bats her eyelashes coyly, knowing exactly what was going on. Jungkook has no idea why that innocent look and the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ falling from her mouth made him hard, but he continually needed more of it. He shuddered lightly at the name and her sweet, sweet voice, barely managing to keep his cool.

“Not in the painful way...unless you like that.” He rasped, brushing her lip with his thumb tenderly. She held back a moan and Jungkook took that as an invitation to take it a step further. 

“Do you want me?” He breathed deeply in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

She licked her lips and smiled her signature seductive smile. Jungkook was no match for both her smile and her beautiful doe-eyes. “Oh, Mr. Jeon, you know my pride won’t let me answer that.” 

“Cut the games Y/L/N. I’ve had enough of your shit today. Do you want me?” He repeats. He fully pressed his body into hers allowing her to feel the need that he had been accumulating out on the balcony, his breathing getting heavier. She returned the gesture, pushing back against him discreetly. 

“I thought we agreed that you would just be my boss.” She said with wide, naive eyes, though Jungkook knew better. 

“Well, then, as your boss I hope you would do as I ask and let me fuck you on this sink.” He let his fingers travel from her chin to her throat and let them wrap around her neck ever so gently, giving her just a taste of what was to come. He felt her swallow thickly and watched the innocent look in her eyes turn to primal lust. “So? You wanna see if I can handle you or not?” He whispered, touching his lips to her ear.

She shivered at the touch and quickly turned around to face him. Jungkook leaned in and they were nose to nose. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but their lips barely brushed when she backed away suddenly. He looked into her stern eyes confusedly. “This means nothing.” She said, making sure they were both on the same page. “I’m aware.” he responded before they both pounced at each other, teeth clacking and tongues swirling.

Y/N moaned in delight when Jungkook gripped the back of her thighs and sat her on the granite sink counter with a quickness. He forced her skirt up to her hips roughly so he could properly grind his crotch against her and she seemed to enjoy the rough handling. He made a note of that. 

His hands were everywhere on her, massaging her breasts, squeezing her hips and ass, eager to finally be living his most recent fantasies. Y/N revelled in the attention with a smile on her face, hands playing freely in his silky hair whilst he kissed along her neck. 

He quickly reached down between Y/N’s legs to find that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He leans back and their heated gazes meet. “You dirty little slut.” He noted, gruffly. “You like it.” She confidently reassured him. “You’re damn right, I like it.” He mumbled as he attached his lips firmly to hers and applied pressure, rubbing her swollen clit with his fingers. “...Mmm, God, you’re so wet.”

The assassin’s body jerked several times and she moaned into his mouth, grinding further into his touch. She separated from him when she couldn’t take anymore and stared deeply into his eyes. “Please,” she pauses to catch her breath. “Please fuck me, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook unzipped his pants before she could even finish her sentence, preparing a condom that he is thanking God he brought with him today. “I like when you say my name like that.” He whispered against her ear.

“I know, your dick told me. Now, hurry before someone breaks the door down.” Jungkook then slides into her easily. Y/N sighs in ecstasy while Jungkook is stunned into silence at the way she gripped his dick. He starts to move almost immediately, holding her in place as he snaps his hips into her, their lips sloppily tangled all the while. The sound of their moans began to bounce off of the tile walls of the bathroom, both of them throwing any cares they had for being discreet out the window.

Jungkook grunted with excitement and pleasure at the sight in front of him. He was watching her moaning form closely, memorizing every detail of her incase he never got this chance again.

“Fuck yes. Your dick feels so fucking good inside me.” She panted, focused on his wide, intense eyes. “Just keep fucking me like that, Mr. Jeon.” He released a satisfied growl at the name.  

Even though he had only met her weeks ago, Jungkook never would have guessed that Y/N would be the type to beg for anything. But here she was under him, at his mercy just like in his dreams, begging for him. It occurred to him that the Deathstalker he met would never admit to or do any of this, but Y/N seemed to be living for it. The idea excited him so much that he didn’t know up from down and didn’t bother to control any nonsense that spewed from his mouth in response to her. 

“You look like a dirty little slut under me right now. Letting me fuck you in the bathroom while your date’s probably outside waiting or you.” He whispered harshly in her ear, never letting up as he continues to thrust in and out of her swiftly. 

Y/N threw her head back and moaned, feeling nothing but turned on by his comments. “Oh, fuck yes..” She murmured, letting herself be carried away with pleasure. 

“Not wearing any panties for him, letting him touch all over you, ugh...but I’m the one who gets to have this sweet pussy by the end of the night.” He breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of Y/N’s face that was contorted in pure bliss. “Flirting with both of us all night long, making us want you. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I am, I’m a bad girl.” She whimpered hurriedly. “I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.” She finished, her words not completely registering in her drunken state, but they resonated with Jungkook all too well. He forced himself to slow his thrusts considerably and focus on his breathing much to Y/N’s dismay.

She leans back into him and rests her forehead on his, running her fingers through his hair and grinding on him desperately. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Why did you stop?” Her low, lusty voice implored. 

Jungkook chuckles lightly. “You’re gonna make me cum sweetheart.” She pulled his hips into her helping him find a new rhythm. “Then by all means, do, Mr. Jeon. I want you to cum inside me.” She purred before kissing him softly. 

That set something off in him causing him to pound into her once more. Y/N was thrown back by the force, unable to hold her upper body up any longer. She rested her elbows on the counter and tilted her head all the way back while Jungkook thrusted away into her. 

He saw her face in the mirror and appreciated that he got the watch the pleasure they were experiencing together until he noticed her eyes were closed. 

He realised he didn’t wanna cum this way. He pulled out of her, ignoring her cries of disapproval, turned her around and roughly bent her over the counter. 

“Oh, baby, you gotta see this.” He rasped before sliding into her again and instantly started fucking into her wildly. Y/N yelped before biting her knuckle in order to keep quiet. “Oh my god, yes, fuck me!”

Jungkook grabbed her ponytail and dragged her up off the counter and into his chest so that he could whisper in her ear. She winced, but let him wrap her hair around his fist and pull harder, the back of her head totally resting on his shoulder. 

She could see him behind her, relentlessly hammering into her greedy body in all his glory. Maybe she misjudged him. The sight turned her on even more, sending another rush of wetness between her thighs. 

“You’d better keep it down princess. Wouldn’t want your date to think his girl was in here getting railed like a slut. Oh, wait.” Y/N wanted to laugh, but Jungkook released her hip to wrap his large hand around the base of her neck and firmly squeezed. 

Her eyes immediately rolled back at the gesture, but she made sure to refocus on the mirror as Jungkook was watching closely. The pressure was building in her core more and more. She was gonna fall over the edge any second now, she was so close.

“Oh m-ffffuck, yes! You’re gonna make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She whined through clenched teeth, looking into his piercing eyes through the mirror. 

“Then fucking cum for me.” His deep voice grated in her ear. 

“Harder! Choke me harder!” Y/N pleaded as her orgasm crashed right into her. He squeezed tighter at just the right time and with just the right pressure that had Y/N seeing stars and prolonging her high. Jungkook held off his own orgasm, trying not to think about her velvety walls pulsating around him, so that he could watch Y/N fully enjoy hers. And boy was it something to watch. 

Her jaw dropped and stilled as her eyes rolled into her head, but it was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen. Her body was frozen in a perfect arch as he thrusted away into her and her hand firmly cradled his head so that their cheeks were pressed together. He would hold out for as long as he could as she rode her high completely if only to watch her like this for a little longer.

Eventually she tapped Jungkook's hand causing him to let go of her neck and she collapsed onto the counter breathlessly. “Holy fuck.” She gasped as she braced herself on the granite surface. 

She coughed a bit and caught her breath and then looked up at Jungkook with fucked out, voracious eyes. He never took his eyes off of her and never stopped pumping his dick into her delicious cunt. 

“You gonna cum for your little cock slut, Mr. Jeon?” Y/N croaked, throat sore from being choked. But every word sounded like music to Jungkook’s ears. That look on her face made him wanna blow his load on the spot. “Yeah, baby.” Is all he can offer as his hips break their rhythm without his permission.

“Please, cum inside me.” She moaned out as Jungkook emptied himself into the condom, hips sputtering near the end until they stopped with his dick still deep inside of her. He was in his own head, lost in a post-coital stupor, thinking about how that may have been the best orgasm he’s ever had when Y/N spoke up.

“You can get out of me now.” She said flatly, thrusting Jungkook back into the real world. He murmured an apology and withdrew himself from her, watching her walk casually into one of the stalls without a word or a look in his direction. 

He just stood there with his cock out wondering what the hell just happened. He thought they made a connection. He agreed that it wouldn’t mean anything, but was she really that cold hearted to just ignore him after a passionate experience like that? Well, she is a mercenary, his conscience defended, they’re not meant to be caring. 

As he heard the stall start to open up he quickly turned around, discarded the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. He then watched as she came back out looking more put together than before. 

She washed her hands and began to touch up her appearance again. This time she actually needed it. The foundation on her neck was rubbed off by his fingers, revealing the tattoos that Jungkook missed,  her lipstick was smeared and her high ponytail drooped due to the pulling. Awkward silence took over the spacious restroom. Is she really not going to say anything?

He decided to just come out with it. “What was that?” 

“What are you talking about?” She requested, haphazardly while fixing her hair in the mirror.

“Well, you were just all over me and now you’re acting like I don’t exist.” He said plainly.

“It’s called sex, you don’t fuck like a virgin so I assume you know what I’m talking about. Besides, I’m not acting like anything.” Jungkook had a hard time believing that. He knew what deflecting looked like, had seen it in many interrogations. 

“Then why won't you look at me?” He challenged.

Her eyes widened in annoyance as she reached around to place another bobby pin in her hair. “I’m kinda busy here, Jeon.” 

He couldn’t help, but feel bothered that she dropped the sassy formality of calling him Mr., an indication that she was enjoying his company. “Look, will you just talk to me for a sec—”

She suddenly stops what she’s doing. Her breathing is long and deep before she calms down and begins speaking smoothly with her eyes closed. “Look, Jeon. We don’t know each other and I don't know what you think you know about me or what you made up in your head, but you might as well forget all of that ‘cause it’s not real.” She sighed, continuing to recover her foundation.

“That wasn’t real?” He finally commanded. He hated to admit it, but he was slightly bothered when she didn’t even offer him a glance. “That?” She responded, only interested in her reflection.

“That,” He clarified, gesturing to the counter sternly. “What we just did, what we...said.” He gulped nervously. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t get nervous or have passionate sex with strangers and let it effect him. This is only his second time meeting this woman and he let her get in his head. He’s been asking himself the same question since meeting her in the alley: what makes her so different?

She put down her foundation and just stared at it blankly. “And what part of what we said are you confused about, pray tell.”

“Um, ‘I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.’” He quoted promptly. 

Honestly the only thing he was confused about was why she was suddenly being so cold to him. All of the words they shared were noteworthy and he wanted her to acknowledge that. The whole experience still shocked Jungkook and he never dreamed it would actually happen. He just brought up a snippet that he thought might get her attention and maybe evoke some emotion finally. He chose wisely.

Her head whipped in his direction. “And you liked it, didn’t you?” She sneered. “Or perhaps we could talk about how you like to call women, sluts, hm?” 

“I thought you liked it,” He tried to get in, but she wasn’t having it.

Jungkook thought her angry face looked nothing like it did five minutes ago or even out on the balcony. She suddenly let out a bitter laugh and Jungkook realized that this woman probably wears many faces. Perhaps to defend herself. Perhaps to survive. Maybe he misjudged her. 

“You know, I didn’t take you for a person who throws things that people say during sex back in their face.” She accused, sporting a dark smile.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t take you for a...a—”

“A submissive?” She shot, putting an end to his stuttering. He deflated, all signs of anger or disapproval gone from his stance. “Yes.” He copped out, not knowing what else to say. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

Y/N visibly calmed down as well, turning back to the mirror and continuing her work. “Are you surprised?” She muttered, raising her eyebrows. 

Jungkook thought for a second before responding, evenly: “No.” Thinking about how much Y/N might have gone through to be so successful as a trained killer, she must have had to be the strongest and smartest person in the room on any given day. There had to be a time where she wanted to take a break, not be the person in charge for once. Jungkook could relate. 

His response made her pause, but she only cleared her throat and continued applying foundation in silence. I can’t leave things like this, Jungkook decided. He just got an actual glimpse into her personality and not the same act she puts on for the rest of the world. He found out that they might even have some things in common. He didn’t want her to shut him out now. It may have been a moment of weakness for both of them, but he wanted to continue this.

“I could, you know, help...punish you, i-if you want.” He spluttered with his hands in his pockets, trying to make himself look as confident as possible since his voice had already betrayed him. 

Y/N stills and turns to him with a confounded expression, but didn’t say anything.

“I mean, unless you already have a…” Jungkook left out the last word for her to hopefully pick up on, suddenly shy about the world of BDSM. 

“No, I don’t.” She rushed out, looking down at the counter and creating an awkward silence between them. “I’ll think about it.” She added genuinely. She looked at him over her shoulder and offered a gentle nod, her expression completely blank. 

Jungkook nods back in acknowledgement. “Okay, then.”

“Now get out of here, I’m sure there are ladies that need this restroom.” She pulled on her signature playful smirk, nearly giving Jungkook whiplash. Many faces indeed.

“Yeah, okay.” He gathered himself and walked towards the door, but turned back when he realized something. “Wait, how do I contact you for the job?”

“I’ll call you, now go.” She said packing up her stuff. 

Jungkook nodded, unlocked the door and quickly darted out of the bathroom. As he sped by he saw Walter down the hall posted in front of the men’s room patiently waiting for his date. Thankfully his head was turned when Jungkook made his way out of there and to the exit. He smirked wickedly, knowing he got away with his ridiculous plan. “Dumbass.”

Two weeks had gone by since the bathroom incident and Jungkook worked tirelessly to distract himself from thoughts of the beautiful assassin to no avail. He realized there was no escaping her. He thought their rendezvous at the auction would help get her out of his system, but it only fueled his addiction for her and now he was trapped in a vicious cycle that he didn’t know if he wanted out of. 

They kept in contact and Deathstalker killed the enemies on Jungkook’s hit list, but this time she was being paid by the mafioso himself unbeknownst to his men. They found themselves in situations much like the first time they ran into Deathstalker more often than not. Only now she had to be more creative as Jungkook’s foot soldiers still thought she was a possible threat.

As Jungkook sat across from Collin Boardly, a corrupt CEO/gang leader, he wondered if this would be one of those situations. Boardly is a fellow criminal that Jungkook was on good terms with until he heard that Boardly’s men have been attacking and blackmailing store owners in his territory. Jungkook insisted that he pay those victims back and restore all damages. He even invited Mr. Boardly to a very private game of poker so that they could properly discuss matters. 

They sat in the dimly lit restaurant owned by one of Jungkook’s close friends with their respective security surrounding them. Boardly felt obligated to bring his men as he offended Jungkook and now he was on his turf. Jungkook’s men insisted on backing him up, but he had a strong feeling that none of that would be necessary. 

They had already made small talk while getting the game started and Jungkook got straight to business. 

“So, I hear you’ve been terrorizing my streets. What’s the story there?” Jungkook inquired calmly. Boardly huffed a nervous laugh at the mention of what his men did. “Personally I think terrorizing might be too strong a word.”

Jungkook’s brows raised and his expression turned serious. “Well, what would you call threatening multiple lives at gunpoint, roughin’ ‘em up and demanding cuts of their earnings then? Business?” He denounced. 

“As usual.” Boardly finished the adage with a large smile. Jungkook only looked at him with the same no nonsense expression and Boardly seemed to regret making the remark.

“Just a joke, Jungkook.” He muttered. “I am sorry that I allowed my guys to do that.” He doubled down. “We simply didn’t know how far your territory reached. We meant no disrespect.”

“I appreciate that.” Jungkook replied, anger stirring inside him as he fought not to rip this man’s head from his shoulders.They continued to play in near silence until Jungkook finally pressed him for answers. 

“So how do you intend to fix what your guys broke?”

Boardly looked up with a lost expression on his face. “Excuse me?” He grumbled.

“There was damage done to these stores, yes?” Jungkook assessed slowly. “And you’ve already collected cuts from some of the owners…” He can see Boardly’s eyes widen slightly in recognition. 

“Oh, you didn’t know I knew that.” The mob boss gathered. “Anyway, I assume you’re ready to pay for that. I was thinking fifty, thousand dollars would cover it.” He suggested calmly. 

Boardly tried to give an excuse, stuttering. “I’m-I don't think you understand—”

“I understood you can afford it, judging by those chips.” Jungkook chided, gesturing to the large bet Boardly made in the center of the poker table. Boardly sighed at a loss. 

“Kook, listen.” The CEO leaned forward, trying to reason with his opponent. “We’re friends. It was an accident, can’t we just forget this happened?”

“No.” Jungkook responded instantly, his arms crossed. “We were...associates, but now you’re just someone who fucked with my community. So are you gonna pay it back or not?” He seethed furiously.

Boardly swallowed and stared at Jungkook for a few moments, wondering how else to bargain with him. He had too much pride to go through with this deal, especially in front of his inferiors.

“No.” He finally answered.

Jungkook sighed disappointedly. The air in the room turned ominous and it was felt by all. Normally, Jungkook would be killing Boardly by now and he could feel all of his men tense behind him, ready to kill if need be, but he was doing things differently today. He just nodded understandingly, before gesturing with his left hand to get Taehyung’s attention.

“Taehyung. Will you get me a glass of water from the kitchen please?” He asked politely without looking at him. He hears his right hand man head to the kitchen and he turns back to the piece of shit in front of him.

“Why, Collin? Is there something wrong with doing right by those you fucked over?” Jungkook questioned, heatedly.

“No, Kook—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Boardly scoffed and continued. “I just don’t think we did anything wrong. We overstepped, we apologized, I think that should be enough.”

“Well, I don’t. So where does that leave us?”

“I’m not paying for shit.” The CEO shrugged. That really pissed Jungkook off. 

“Go to hell, Boardly.” He growled. I’m really gonna enjoy watching you bite it, Jungkook thought sinisterly. 

Taehyung placed the glass of water in front of his boss and made the decision to continue to stand at his side, ready if anything were to happen. 

“Fine.” Boardly responded bitterly. “So are we done here? Or are you gonna give me a hard time?” He asked, nodding at Taehyung for emphasis. Jungkook shook his head nonchalantly. “No, no. We’re done.” with a haunting smirk on his face. The look put Boardly slightly on edge, but he ignored it and stood up to corral his men. 

Jungkook watched him make his way to the door wondering what the fuck was taking so long? He already gave the signal. He started to reach for his own gun to do it himself when he noticed Boardly stop in his tracks and could hear him choking. 

Even Jungkook and his men wore looks of concern. The mafia leader got up to get a better view from where he stood and the others craned their necks behind him still ready to shoot first and ask questions later. 

Boardly’s men tried to help him as he clutched his throat, but it was no use as he convulsed and fell to the floor before ceasing to move altogether. They looked at each other for answers before turning to Jungkook. 

One of the guys who was wearing a blue suit, which Jungkook assumed to be Boardly’s right hand, pulled out a gun and walked towards him. Taehyung and Jungkook pulled theirs as well, causing everyone with a gun to point them at either side. 

“You do this?!” Boardly’s guy raged. “How?” Jungkook argued. “How would I do that to him? He probably had a heart attack or forgot to breathe or some shit.” He surmised, trying to place the blame elsewhere. 

“Bullshit! What did you do?” He demanded.

“Look, I’m sorry for your loss or whatever, but we had nothing to do with this. Now you all gotta do something with him.” He pointed his gun at the dead body briefly. Blue suit breathes heavily with a stumped expression, not wanting to let it go. No one in the room showing any signs of letting up either.

“How about we all put the guns down and you guys can take him home-or wherever. Yeah? Does that work?” Jungkook prompted gently. After a beat, blue suit nodded, looked back at the rest of Boardly’s men and nodded. Jungkook did the same and slowly, but surely the guns came down and were put away. 

Jungkook and his men watched as they dragged the body out of the restaurant and sped away from the large storefront windows. They’re finally able to breathe without stress. “What the fuck was that?” Namjoon blurted causing the rest of them to chuckle. 

“I don’t know, but I’m getting the fuck outta here before they come back. See you guys back at base.” They laughed and said their goodbyes. Jungkook walked in the light rain to the next block over and found his town car ready and waiting for him. 

He opened the passenger door, addressed his driver, then retrieved a large black duffle bag before opening the backdoor. There he found Deathstalker sitting cross legged in a black trench coat at the other window seat. He smiled fondly at her. She looked beautiful as always gazing out the window at the rain before she noticed him there. When she turned to face him he replaced the fond smile with a composed smirk. 

“Took you long enough.” She opined quietly once he sat down and closed the door. “We got held up, literally. I think this belongs to you.” He passed the duffle bag off to her. She received her present graciously, beaming down at the contents happily once she opened it. 

“Thank you Mr. Jeon.” Y/N crooned playfully, sporting that signature smirk that never failed to affect Jungkook. “No, thank you.” He responded after clearing his throat. “So you poisoned him?” 

She simply replied, “Yup.” while inspecting the cash that filled the duffle bag in her lap. 

“But he randomly started choking and shaking. And you say you controlled it with the push of a button?” He wondered with furrowed brows and pouted lips. 

“Well, poison, a small nanobot that I planted in his food to attack his lungs and cause internal bleeding, it’s all the same, you know.” She spoke aimlessly, moving on from the money to buff and inspect her manicure.  

“Wow.” Jungkook whispered, genuinely infatuated with the thought of that kind of technology and how he could get his hands on it. While he was lost in thought he didn’t notice Y/N scooching closer to him until they were side by side. He turned to find their noses were nearly touching and his heart rate sped up rapidly.  

“Now that, that’s over…” she drawled, grasping Jungkook’s hand. He watched unquestionably as she brought his hand to her mouth and inserted his middle and ring fingers all while looking into his eyes alluringly. At the same time, she easily brought her leg up to drape over both of Jungkook’s. He still sat frozen in place by her gaze while she lifted the bottom of her coat and placed his hand against her bare heat.

They both shuddered slightly when Jungkook instinctively began to rub circles into her already wet core, never taking their eyes off each other. 

“You wanna go somewhere?” She coaxed breathily. It almost infuriated Jungkook how she didn’t even have to try to get him to agree to anything. He was indeed trapped. 

“James,” He called up to the driver. “The Plaza Hotel please.” 

Currently, Jungkook was going through paperwork in his office, taking advantage of the slow week he’s had to take care of some business for his company. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to do this so he was pretty backed up and seemingly had a whole afternoon of this to look forward to. He sighed at the thought, but continued to read through the documents and sign them here and there when suddenly he felt something was...off. He put his pen down and looked around the room.

The room was silent as usual, but all of a sudden it was too silent? Jungkook didn’t know how and he couldn’t really make sense of it until he looked up at the ceiling vent. It was no longer producing the usual soft hum. There was nothing. He silently walked under the vent to inspect it when he saw a glint in between the slats. Immediately, he moved from under it and drew his gun, aiming it at the vent. 

“I see you motherfucker! Come out right now or I’ll put ten holes in you!” He shouted. The intruder heeded the warning and right away the vent was forced to the floor. Jungkook watched intently as two feminine hands holding a gun slowly dropped down and though it was upside down, it was perfectly aimed at him. 

He still had his gun trained on the vent as the trespasser entered through the hole in the ceiling to reveal the familiar face of Deathstalker herself. Only her upper body could be seen as her strong legs held her in place from inside the vent.

She smiled easily at Jungkook as if they weren’t in a stand-off right now. “Hello, Mr. Jeon.” Her tone was calm, but somewhat guarded, telling him what her face never would. Jungkook was stuck between being relieved to see that it was only Deathstalker and being concerned that she was pointing a gun at him. 

“Hello, Deathstalker. You wanna tell me why you broke into my office and have a gun in my face?” He queried with a tilt of his head. Y/N only reached up to grip the hole in the ceiling, somehow removing herself from the vent with one hand, her gun and her gaze still trained on Jungkook as she landed on her feet in front of him. More contradicting thoughts swirled in his mind at the sight.  

“You finally caught me. I’m proud.” She smirked, removing the hood of her catsuit from her head.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, maybe you can congratulate me later. Why are you here? You finally turn on me? Did someone send you, huh?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. You have something I need.” She explained with a determined look. Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Is that so? And what might that be?” 

“You know what it is.” Y/N quipped, tilting her gun along with the inflection in her voice. He shakes his head assuredly. “No, No, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you wanna put the gun down I’d love to discuss it.” He entreated informally. 

“No.” She spoke firmly. A beat of silence passes before Jungkook has had enough. “Put the fucking gun down, Y/L/N.” He demanded gruffly. 

“You put the fucking gun down.” She spat right back at him. 

“I’m not doing this, just tell me what it is—” He reasoned.

“You know what it is—” Before she can fully respond, Jungkook rushed her, forcing her gun away from him and ripping it out of her hand. He quickly backed up and flung the gun across the room before pointing his back at her. They each caught their breath and Y/N bit her lip frustratedly. 

Jungkook gave a triumphant smile. “There, that’s better. You ready to talk now—”

Y/N’s leg swiftly came up to kick the gun right out of Jungkook's hand before he even realized what happened. He looked at the gun sliding away from them on the floor, then back at Deathstalker, who smirked and raised an arrogant brow.

“Okay.” Jungkook uttered right as Y/N charged at him. He panicked slightly at the thought of fighting her, but the instinct to fight back kicked in when she launched herself and wrapped her body around him like an anaconda. 

They struggled while Deathstalker tried to take Jungkook to the floor. Luckily for him, he wasn’t only a skilled shooter, but a trained and very skilled fighter as well. It wasn’t long before he freed himself from her vice grip and they were in a standoff once again, this time with their fist raised and ready to defend. 

“What the hell has gotten into you Y/L/N? I wish you would tell me what this is about.” Jungkook grumbled as they circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

Y/N chuckled mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Yes, actually!” He exploded. She took his emotional outburst as an opportunity and pounced once again. Jungkook was quicker to react this time and they were practically sparring in the middle of his office and only lord knows why. Jungkook found himself getting irritated because he was barely one step behind Deathstalker in her strikes and attacks. 

As they got more invested, Jungkook noticed that she didn’t intend on hurting him, but she did intend to win. Somewhere in the scuffle, he fell behind and let her right hook distract him from the leg that swept his feet from under him. She was on top of him in an instant, with a habitual flat hand at his jugular ready to stop him from breathing. They stare at each other, both of them breathing heavily. 

“Got you.” Y/N suddenly whispered smugly. “Now, are you gonna give me what I want?” She prompted provocatively, sliding her hand into the collar of his shirt slowly. The feel of her hot skin on his almost burned with their charged up bodies and wild emotions. He blinked in realization at her increasingly turned on form above him. 

“You. Crazy. Fucking. Bitch.” Jungkook fumed quietly, looking up at her in disapproval. She just giggled freely and though usually the sound would bring a smile to Jungkook’s face, it only pissed him off. 

He pushed her off of him and shoved her against the wall roughly, holding her there by the neck. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, breaking in here and waving a gun in my face.” He hissed in anger, their noses touching. “You know, if you wanted dick you could have just said so.” 

“Where’s the fun in that Mr. Jeon?” She crooned, leaning forward to kiss him and he denied her, coolly tilting his head back. He continued to hold her by the throat to the wall firmly, causing her to choke briefly, but if she was uncomfortable she didn’t let it show.

“No.” He shook his head, Y/N could see his gears turning as he did so. “No?” She echoed, curiously. 

“To answer your question. I’m not giving you what you want.” A devious smirk slowly appeared on his face that made Y/N’s body temperature rise. “No, you’re gonna do what I want now and you’re gonna like it.” He breathed, pressing himself against her and brushing her lips with his teasingly. She inhales audibly, trying not to look affected by his sudden behavior. 

“But, Mr. Jeon, I want what you want.” She encouraged him sweetly, reaching for him. He put a stop to that quickly by pinning her wrists above her with one hand and resuming his hold on her neck with the other. She grunted and squirmed before giving up, looking up a childish defeated expression, but Jungkook knew she loved it. 

He looked into her eyes with a strong dominance that had Y’N swallowing thickly in anticipation. “Are you talking back to me, Y/L/N?” His eyebrows furrowed intimidatingly. 

She bit her lip to suppress her giddy smile. She needed to play along and not mock Jungkook’s very real emotions. The dynamic has officially shifted and now Y/N’s main objective was to please him. “No, Mr. Jeon.” She assured in a register slightly higher than her natural voice. 

“Really, because you seem to have a lot to say for someone who’s at my mercy. I wonder if you’d still be as talkative with my dick in your mouth.” He growled hotly in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

She shuddered a hopeful response. “Can we find out, Mr. Jeon...please?” She implored when she felt him pull away. 

He looked her over, taking in her needy form. “Look at you, already begging for it.” He shook his head in amazement. “I should keep you here and see how long you can hold your breath for me before your face starts to change color.” He whispered while closing his hand tighter around her neck. Y/N hummed delightfully at the feeling, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“But you’d probably like that wouldn’t you?” He leaned back in, getting her attention. She opened her eyes and gave a pleasant smile. “You know that I do.” She choked out. He smiled back at her admirably before releasing most of the pressure on her throat. 

“No, I got something else planned for y—” He stopped abruptly, looking towards the door because he thought he heard the click of familiar shoes in the hall. His theory was proven correct when he heard them getting closer. He quickly looked to Y/N with wide eyes. 

“Get under the desk.” He ordered softly before they both scurry to the huge desk near the window. She easily fit herself under it on her knees facing out and Jungkook took the seat right in front of her. As soon as they were situated, there was a knock on his office door.

“Come in.” He called pretending to look over his files. Taehyung poked his head in with a concerned expression before he fully entered the room. “Hey boss. Everything okay here?” He questioned.

“Yes, fine. Why?”

“Nothing, we just thought we heard some...I don’t know, movement?” As Taehyung spoke, Jungkook could feel hands raking up his thighs and his eyes widened quickly. He tried to compose his expression, but he then felt the unbuttoning of his pants. 

No, no, no, no, he thought in a panic. He tries not to focus on just how Y/N got his zipper down as silently as she did and focuses on Taehyung’s lips as he talked. 

“Oh, no, yeah. That was just me. I was practicing...sh-shadow boxing.” He lied choppily as Y/N released his already hard dick from his pants. 

“In a suit?” Taehyung replied, confusedly. 

Jungkook jolted slightly and fought back a moan when the assassin took him in her warm, wet mouth. “Waauuuhh, yes. Yes, I was.” He cleared his throat to cover up more moans when she began to skillfully bob her head up and down on his length. 

“Oh, well okay.” Taehyung settled. “So if that’s all—” Jungkook attempted to see him off with no success. 

“Anyway, we got a lead on that Deathwalker chick.” He offered in a more chipper tone. Y/N paused her movements, intrigued by the information. What had they found out? Jungkook shamelessly rested his hand on the back of her head and pulled, encouraging her to keep going much to both of their disbelief. She obeys and continues the task eagerly, but careful not to have too much fun or she’ll risk getting caught. “Is that so?” the mob boss replied. 

“Yeah, it’s not much, but we assumed you wanted us to brief you on it as soon as possible.” His soldier nodded respectfully. 

“Ugh,” Jungkook moaned, half-way masking it as a noise of gratitude. “Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it. We’ll be sure to discuss thisssssss later.” He faltered. “Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded again, making a face at Jungkook. 

“Hey, you okay boss?” He looked closer at his superior with genuine concern. “Never better Tae.” Jungkook forced out quickly. “Are you sure? Y—”

“Taehyung?” The gang leader addressed him firmly. “Yes?” 

“Get the fuck out of my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded, knowing when he was unwanted and without another word he was exiting the office. 

Jungkook pushed away from the desk immediately and grabbed a handful of Y/N’s hair as he stood both of them up. She only smiled at the manhandling and wiped the excess spit from her mouth. 

“You really want me to hurt you, don’t you?” He snarled at her. She fought back the strong urge to moan a yes and instead just stayed silent with a feigned guilty look on her face. “Take that off. Now. ” He commanded, gesturing to her catsuit. She shimmied it off of her arms and down her legs to reveal her naked body, leaving her heels on, all while Jungkook kept a tight grip on her hair. 

“How many do you think I should give you?” He asked, suddenly calmer than before. “How ever many you think is right sir.” She spoke in a small voice, but her innocent act didn’t fool him. He stared at her bare, unapologetically, beautiful body in wonderment before forcing her body to bend over his desk. 

He caressed her thighs and backside tenderly and then when she least expected it he delivered a delicious slap to it. Y/N yelped and then sighed with contentment. The wait was over, now the real fun could begin. 

“I told you.” Slap. “We weren't.” Slap. “Gonna do.” Slap. “What you wanted.” Slap. “To do.” Slap. “But you just don’t listen.” He accentuated his words with powerful smacks delivered to both of her cheeks and then rubbed at the tender flesh to soothe the sting. 

He ran his finger up her spine gently, making her shiver visibly. He smirked at his effect on her, bending his body over hers to whisper in her ear. “Tell me. Are you sorry?” He breathed heavily. 

“No, sir.” Y/N panted after a few moments. “I knew it…” He stands up straight, regarding her vulnerable yet durable body. 

“You disappoint me, Y/L/N.” He slaps her ass and massages again. Y/N hissed before replying. “I’ll do better sir.” she declared sincerely.

“You promise?” Jungkook lifts his hand and watches as Y/N braces for the impact, watched as her body tensed and her pussy clenched greedily around nothing in awe. He savored the moment, spanking her again.

She hummed graciously at the delicious pain she was receiving from him. “Yes, sir. I promise.”  

“But you’re not sorry.” He clarified. “No sir.” 

“Why?” His brows furrowed in curiosity, gearing up to spank her again. “Because I love sucking your cock sir.” Y/N whined. He stopped his movements, taken aback and released a soft laugh. “Is that so?” 

“Yes sir.” Slap. “Tell me more Y/L/N.” he requested as he moved his left hand to her cunt and kept the right one on her ass. 

She closed her eyes and smiled, envisioning herself doing the activity, even licking her lips at the luscious memory of it. “I love how heavy it feels on my tongue. How you force me down on it and it hits the back of my throat.” She mused longingly. Y/N stops speaking and her body tenses as he inserts his thumb into her. 

“Keep going Y/L/N.” Jungkook’s tone made it clear that he would stop if she didn’t keep talking so she continued. 

“I love how thick it is, oh fuck.” She moans, digging her nails into the wood of the desk as he rubs two fingers against her clit and picks up the pace. “What else Y/L/N?” He breathed.  

She gulped in a breath, the sudden pressure taking her breath away. “How you make me gag on it when I’ve been bad and— mmmm, how you coat the inside of my mouth with all your cum when you’re done with me...How you check to make sure I swallowed all of it.” She giggled that last bit breathlessly, grinding back on his hand. 

“You’re such a dirty girl Y/L/N.” He moves in and out of her quickly while rubbing her clit perfectly in sync, pulling lewd moans from her until he suddenly removes them, delivering another hard smack to her backside. “Ah, fuck.” She squealed.

“But you’re right, you need to do better. Now count with me.” He ordered sternly. 

To which she immediately responded, “Yes sir.” 

Y/N counts every hit Jungkook delivers to her extremely tender ass dutifully with her fingernails creating crescents in the mahogany wood below her. By the time they reach twenty, his hand is as red as a tomato and Y/N is quite literally dripping onto the floor in front of him. He watched as her slick dripped out of her cunt from in between her spread legs and onto the floor, creating a tiny puddle of her pleasure. 

Jungkook is incredibly turned on by the sight and doesn’t think twice before taking his hard cock and shoving right into the assassin without warning. He didn’t wait for her to adjust, not that she needed to as you could literally mop the floor with her arousal. He just continued to hammer into her with complete abandon. 

It felt as if Y/N had forgotten how to breathe and her head shot up from the desk at the abrupt intrusion. “Ohhhhh shhhhhhit.” She cursed choppily with Jungkook’s hips slapping against her, making her ass sting more, but she loved it. 

He reached up to push her head down against the desk forcefully and held it there as he fucked into her. “You love the pain don’t you my little cock slut?” He growled out.

“Yes, sir. I love it. Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” She babbled dazedly into the desk. 

He pulls out of her then, leaving her moving back in search of him and clenching around nothing. “Please put it back in, Mr. Jeon.” She whimpered, reaching back for him, but she didn’t dare sit up for fear that he might think she was disobeying him.

He smiles and sits down in his chair, grabbing the hands that searched for him and guiding them to it’s arm rests. “Why don’t you come sit down and do it yourself?” 

She moves right away and backs up onto him. Bracing herself on the armrests, she hovers above him still facing the desk, grabs his cock and engulfs it in her wetness. They both groan wildly when he is fully seated inside of her and she begins to move up and down.

“Just like that baby, keep bouncing on my cock.” He muttered huskily, placing his hands on her hips. Looking down, he finally noticed the mess Y/N’s juices made on his suit pants. He should have pulled them all the way down, but damn if that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. “Goddamn. Who made you this fucking wet baby?” He grunted, pulling her down on him with fervid force. 

“You did, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N breathed heavily with her eyes closed in ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm finally approaching and she was chasing it with every move she made.

“You gonna cum baby?” Jungkook’s voice rasped in her ear. Y/N mentally cursed, already knowing what was coming to her. “Yes, I’m so close, Mr. Jeon.” She whined, trying to plead her case. 

It was no use. He swiftly pushed her off of him roughly and forced her down against the table once more. “No, no, no, please, please.” She begged and squirmed.

He only bent down to her level, gripping her chin in his hand. “You should know by now not to fuck with me Y/L/N. Now you need to be punished.” He says whispering sadistically in her ear. “Come on now.”

Jungkook gripped her by her forearms, dragging her up from the table and keeping them in place behind her back like a criminal. He guided her to the expansive wall length bookshelf on the far left of his office. Y/N knew just where they were going and somehow it prompted more wetness to come cascading down her already damp and sticky legs. 

He finds the handle on the inside of one of the shelves and pulls on the hidden door to reveal his playroom. The ceiling was a deep red while the walls were painted black with several tools for causing pain hanging on them all around the room. Several large contraptions used for pleasure and pain were scattered along the sides. But Jungkook’s favorite part of the room was the alaska king size mattress against the back wall which had a mirror of the same size attached to the ceiling above it. He loved that he could see every facet of Y/N’s squirming body just by looking up. 

“Stand here.” He directs her after stopping under the pair of leather handcuffs that dangled from the ceiling. He lifted and secured both her arms before focusing on her wanton eyes. “You comfortable, sweetheart?” He asked, grasping her chin firmly in his hands. 

“Yes, sir.” She replied truthfully. “Good.” He pecked her lips and began removing her boot heels. This created more distance between her and the floor. She was now truly dangling from the ceiling, the balls of her feet barely touching the floor.

Jungkook marvelled at his work and how after a while Y/N struggled to hold her weight against the cuffs. He then undressed quickly and made his way back to her, placing his lips on hers in a rough and passionate kiss that left Y/N breathless and moaning. 

She feels a hand thread it’s fingers through her hair and massage her scalp before it’s yanking her back and gripping tightly. She opened her eyes to see Jungkook, lustful and giddy smiling back at her. His hand slipped out of her hair, down her neck, chest and around her torso as he slowly circled her body. 

“I wish I could touch every piece of you at once.” He expressed sofly once he was behind her. Y/N breathed heavily with anticipation as his large hands gluided up her raised arms, down her waist, over her hips and ghosted over her plump, raw ass making her hiss. He chuckled at the sound letting his hands wander to her front and administering feather light circles to her swollen clit. Y/N twitched causing her body to sway uncontrollably. Jungkook stilled her, but continued his teasing much to Y/N’s dismay. But she didn’t dare say anything about it, she knew better and she wanted to cum so she stayed silent. 

He comes back around to face her and really takes his time appreciating her body. He kisses her lips, along her neck and sucks on her nipples just enough to have her squirming with more want for him. Suddenly he presses down on each of her sensitive nipples with two fingers and she squeaks, painful electricity shooting through her. 

He looked her over keenly. “God you’re so fucking beautiful...and you’re all mine to play with.” He kisses her biting her lip. “Who do you belong to?” His fierce tone demanded an answer.

“You, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N avowed, increasingly turned on and desperate to cum. 

“Who else?” His hands moved haltingly towards her core, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes flashed knowingly at him. “No one. Only you, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook smiled contentedly before it disappeared little by little. He knew the words weren’t true and that she only said them to please him, only said them when they were intimate. But he couldn’t help how much he yearned to hear it, how much he wanted her to truly be his. This room is where they both get what they want no matter what. 

Y/N gets someone to dominate her and take care of her needs and Jungkook gets to live out his fantasies of her truly belonging solely to him. But he knew she would never go for that and that he would continue to toture himself this way. 

He tucks the thought away as he suddenly plunges two fingers inside of her. “And who does this pussy belong to?” He growled.

Y/N immediately clenches around them and lets out a cracked moan. “You, sir! This pussy is all yours. Oh fuck, ugh!” She cried out. At least Jungkook can be sure of that, he thought as he began curling his fingers into her at lightning speed. He holds her hips in place as he goes to work and Y/N can’t even think about the pain in her arms anymore once she feels her orgasm approaching. 

She grunts fervently as the pressure in her core builds and builds until she can’t stand it. She gives no warning, just allowing the glorious, all-consuming feeling to ignite her insides without a single sound. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sloshing of Jungkook’s fingers moving rapidly inside of her and the slap of his palm against her wet mound. 

Jungkook was so enraptured by her eyes rolling back into her head that he didn’t notice the clear liquid escaping from her cunt, getting all over his hand and dripping onto the floor. He brought her drooping head up so he could kiss her eagerly as he removed his fingers and stroked her clit like a wild man, getting more of her juices all over him. 

She never told him to stop as she was struck silent by the amount of pleasure she just experienced, but he removed his hand and continued kissing her writhing body hungrily. She was out of breath as she twitched and mewled against him, audibly shuddering from time to time. 

“Holy fucking shit. You’re just full of surprises huh?” He praised her with her face in his hands. Her only reaction was to smile tiredly. Her body was absolutely spent and still experiencing aftershocks. 

“Now let’s see if we can make you do that again.” he says, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, thankfully taking the weight off of her arms. 

She finally speaks in a disoriented voice with her eyes half closed. “Yes, please sir.” 

Jungkook pushes inside of her, her cunt was now extremely wet and extremely tight due to that first squirting orgasm and he could tell he wouldn’t last long. He began speedily fucking into her, his hips slapping against her bruised and aching ass over and over again. 

Y/N was in another realm of euphoria, this one being better than the last. She didn’t even know that was possible. Her head was tilted all the way back and her eyes were closed, but they were focused. She was too far gone to even remember her own name at this point. 

“Please…” She mumbled. “Please what?” Jungkook grunted, his vigorous hips never changing pace. 

“Please, please make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She begged through gritted teeth. “I want it so bad. Please give me your cum.” 

“Oh fuck, baby.” He moaned, thrusting impossibly faster, both of them close to the edge. 

She felt herself growing slightly over stimulated, but she was so close, chasing that high that made her see stars. She was concentrated on the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pumping in and out of her and hitting just the right spot against her walls. Jungkook felt a force resisting him from inside of Y/N and before he could grasp it he was being pushed out along with Y/N’s cum. 

A full fledged scream escaped from her throat that was elongated by Jungkook who swiped at her clit wildly to prolong her orgasm. He watches her twitch and moan helplessly before sliding back in and picking up where he left off.

“No, p-please sir, I can’t.” She choked out, her chest heaving with exhaustion. 

He gripped her face roughly in his hand and brought it close to his. “No, you wanted this dick so you gonna take this dick.” He seethed. “That’s what you came here for right?” 

“Yes sir.” She cried. Jungkook thrusted up into her half a dozen more times before he came inside of her, ripping yet another orgasm from Y/N. She felt tears slide down her face at the sheer force of energy in her veins. She saw white behind her eyes and her body burned all over in the best of ways. 

“Argh!” Jungkook growled boisterously as he came, holding her hips rigidly against his as he came down. When he looked up he could see Y/N practically falling asleep against him, yet her body was shaking slightly. He pulled out of her and released her from her restraints.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” He grinned, holding her tight as he let her down because he didn’t expect her to be able to hold herself up. He was proven right as she immediately slumped over his shoulder once her arms were free. The mafia leader carried her to the bed and gently laid her on her back, taking a moment to clean both of them off before he laid down too. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He whispered sweetly. Initially, the assassin didn’t realize he was speaking to her as she was quickly drifting off to sleep, but after a moment she assured him, “I’m fine Jungkook.”

[fatbottombucky]

Clingy Hearts *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Summary: [Trope] Person A over hears Person B complaining about A’s clingyness.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x [F]Reader

Rating: [+18] Mature Content

Warnings: Slight angst, S U P E R FLUFFYY!! Implied sexy times at the end, like a bit of foreplay happens but yeah

“I don’t know how you put up with it, man,” Bucky looks up from his phone, an eyebrow raise towards his friends, “Y/N? She hasn’t stopped texting you and it’s only 11 am,” Sam remarks and nudges Steve to agree.

Bucky snaps his eyes to his bestest friend, only Steve holds his hands up in defence and quickly shovels the cereal into his mouth. His attention returns to Sam, normally he’d brush off comments made by the man- after all, it’s their friendship to hate each other. Yet, this comment Bucky couldn’t just let slide because it involves you.

“I mean she just misses me,” Bucky mutters and glances down at the text conversation, an adorable picture of you and his support dog, Charu, laying on the shared bed, plus a few back and forth texts that accumulated through the morning.

Sam let out a wheeze, “Dude, it’s been what? An hour? Plus she works here too, she’ll be walking through these halls in twenty minutes, what’s there to miss?” A low hum of agreement comes from Steve, who only shovels more cereal into his mouth. “She’s just…”

Bucky sits up straight, “What?”

“Clingy,” Sam sighs and Bucky frowns, “she’s just always around, always in your personal bubble and constantly touching you,” he explains with sincerity, “it’s cute, I guess, but the girl is kinda full on. In your lap, constantly texting you when apart. If she was my girl I’d be itching for some time apart,” an airy chuckle leaves the man.

Clingy. From how Sam said it, it seems like a bad word. Something no one should be. It makes Bucky frown for a moment, lost in thought over this conversation. In actual fact, he’s the clingy one with the constant touching and wanting you nearby, he likes the limited space because he feels wanted then. He subtly initiates hand-holding, lap sitting and any form of touching, he just likes holding you.

As for the texting that’s Bucky’s fault too because he loves being able to talk to you when you aren’t around. They didn’t have this back in his time, texting and FaceTime, it’s all new to Bucky and he’s loving it. He’ll text you randomly, FaceTime you when working out and call you when away.

Bucky is the clingy one.

“Does it annoy you?” Steve asked whilst leaning against the kitchen counter, now done with his second breakfast.

“Should it?” His voice rising with the question because is it really that bad?

Both men nod, “Yeah, it’s kinda ridiculous how clingy she is. She’s like glued to you,” Steve finally voices his opinion, “but if you like it then… forget Sam said anything.”

“I imagine she sleeps close to you also,” Sam chuckled and Bucky nods, “do you ever get time for yourself? Bucky, the only time I see you without her is on a mission, she’s like an extra limb or something, doesn’t that bother you at all?”

And Bucky was backed into a corner like a frightened dog. His friends listing ways to subtly lower the contact, to help discuss the ‘situation’ with you and develop some ��healthy boundaries’. He silently listened to them, nodding softly along to their words and chewing his bottom lip, this isn’t something he wants but too awkward to admit he’s the clingy one- considering they’re berating you for it.

“I’ll talk to her, I guess,” Bucky mutters and sips his now cold coffee, hoping that’ll end the conversation and it does.

What he thought was over, it was far from it. You had heard almost every word of the conversation, arriving early to work and just happening to pass the kitchen, their loud voices enticed you but their conversation made you hang back. A longing for Bucky to stick up for you, to admit he liked your ‘clingyness’.

You didn’t even realise you were clingy, it wasn’t a word you’d use to describe yourself or your relationship with Bucky. You just liked spending time with him and being close to him, he always made you feel safe and loved.

After hearing this though, you feel naive and a little stupid. If you knew Bucky disliked all of this then you wouldn’t have done it, if he needed boundaries then he should’ve said from the beginning, heck, you even created boundaries- why hadn’t he? You decided that you’d give Bucky the distant he wanted by going straight to work and switching your phone on silent.

Odd and strange are words Bucky would use to describe his day. He hadn’t seen you, which was odd, and you ignored his texts which was strange. He hated it. Bucky hated the lack of communication on your end, so he decided to hunt you down.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky smiles when seeing you sat at your desk, he rests his arms on the smooth surface and dazzlingly smiles at you, “I text you but you didn’t reply,” he tilts his head when looking at you.

You glance up from your computer screen, “I didn’t want to bother you,” he frowns a little, “plus working, not exactly appropriate to be texting you,” that never bothered you before, did Tony say something? “Did you need something?” You asked with a smile.

“Uh-no, see you later?” He asked a little unsure and you nodded, a smile that didn’t really light up your features like it usually does.

He leans over the desk and plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, very odd indeed. His mind reeled with thoughts and feelings has he done something to upset you? Were you having a bad day and just needed some space? Was he just overthinking things?

The day was long and hard, mostly stressful on his end. He couldn’t focus, always glancing at his phone and even waiting for you at lunch- the only text he received was one saying you were going out with friends instead.

He’s done something wrong. He’s upset you. You dislike him right now.

“Guys,” Bucky walks into the gym, “Y/N hasn’t text me all day and she went out for lunch,” he exasperated.

His two friends cheered, high fiving one another. Thinking this was a celebration, that Bucky had spoken his thoughts and laid down the law to you.

“You seem upset,” Steve observes as Bucky stares at his phone screen.

It only takes a look, one simple fearful look from Bucky for Rogers to know what’s up. To understand what’s happening, to realise that Bucky craves you- he’s the clingy one, and you just fuel it because you’re just as clingy.

“They’re both clingy,” it’s a statement to Wilson, Bucky looks back and forth between the men, “I think she might’ve overheard us, buddy. Nat talked about how she arrived early and was… off,” he shrugged sympathetically to his oldest friend, “sorry, we’ll go explain everything-“

“No,” Bucky cuts off Steve with a shake of his head, “I didn’t exactly navigate that conversation well, in fact, I agreed with you; I shouldn’t have, fuck sake, Barnes,” he reprimands himself.

Sam crosses his arms, “why did you agree? You could’ve just said to us that you’re overbearing, I would have agreed with that too.” Bucky frowns at Sam, “dude, you’re overbearing, she can look out for herself,” and Bucky only sighs. “Listen, imma say this once and never again, she’s good for you. Sorry I stuck my nose in, you just seem like the type who wants detachment but clearly she’s a blanket of comfort.”

Bucky smiles at Sam, an effortless smile and a loving one. They have their moments, Sam thinks he’s a know it all when it comes to this stuff, and sometimes he does have good advice- advice he takes but never tells Sam.

“Go,” Sam shoos him away, “fix things with your girl. She’s probably missing you stupid face,” Steve chuckles at Bucky flipping the bird to Sam as he exits and goes home.

The apartment is silent, except for the low volume of the television. You’re sat on the sofa, legs up on the coffee table and Charu cuddled up to your side. His dog sits up at the quiet sounds of entry, jumping off the sofa and running over to her companion, a soft howl of greeting.

“Hey, girl,” he pets her head softly, her thick fur instantly brining easiness to him, a comforting feeling of home and safety. He walks around the sofa with her, watching you with intensity as he sits down a little beside you- leaving an inch of space something he isn’t used to with you. “Y/N?” He asked gently, prying your eyes from the screen, “are you mad at me?”

The question is simple. So is the answer, he already knows it but he asks anyway.

He stutters a bit, a nervous edge to him, “I know you heard the conversation this morning.”

Your shoulders tense, you look away guilty for being caught earwigging. You bite your bottom lip, a nervous habit, you sneak a glance at your boyfriend.

“You aren’t clingy,” Bucky affirms, “well you are but so am I,” you frown slightly and he sighs, “I love you. I love us. We’re clingy, we crave each other’s touch in a crowded room, we text when only being apart for a few hours. I love it. I - just- I don’t know, I felt insecure and Sam made it seem like a bad thing. I’m sorry,” his speech is rushed and clogy, but it makes you smile.

“Not talking to you all day has been so hard,” you admit with a giggle, the sound raises Bucky to Earth. “Being away from you, I really hate it. Hearing you agree with them… Don’t make me feel like that again, okay?”

Bucky can only nod, the hurt in your voice makes Bucky mad at himself for doing that. He gently caresses your face with his hands, moving hair from your face as he leans down. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but gentle on your own. The kiss breathes an unspoken promise to never hurt you again, to never let you feel like he doesn’t love all of you.

Without breaking the kiss he pulls you to him, straddling his lap and he swiftly stands up, hands gripping your bottom tightly as he strides towards the bedroom. You smile into the kiss, deepening it with a bite of his bottom lip and fighting for dominance that Bucky wins easily.

A gentleness that only comes from Bucky when with you, he lays down on the bed softly, pulling his lips away and just staring at you longingly. A look of disbelief and love runs through his grey eyes.

The look has you becoming shy, you feel the blood rush to your face as he just stares at you softly. You caress his jaw and that brings him back, a simple touch has him remembering this is real. You’re real. He begins to undress you, kissing your heated skin when it’s revealed to him.

His large hands are everywhere all over your body and pinching gently. His touch isn’t rough or hard- like most times- this time it’s feather light, almost fleeting. He holds you to him, bearing no space between your bodies as his skilled fingers dance down your body. The touch creating goosebumps in their awake, slinking to the apex of your thighs. He leaves wet kisses on your neck as you whine softly.

Once bringing you to a blissful sedation, for a second time, he wraps his arms around you tightly as he enters but drops his head down to leave a kiss right where your heart is. The moment is so intimate and sweet, far from anything you’ve shared with him before, you gasp softly and card your fingers through his hair.

The evening is filled with soft kisses, gentle touches and whisperings of “I love you’s” to one another.

[msjr0119]

One Temptation

Part 2

*This new series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

Riley Brooks moves back to New York after leaving five years prior- struggling to get by in life she wanted to go home. After getting mugged, a woman and man come to her rescue and offer her a job at their strip club. A rich business man Liam Rhys is forced to visit the club as part of his bachelor party. What will happen that night?

Warnings: 🤬 swearing, Driley smut 🥰

Tags-if you want to be removed let me know 😊: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @dcbbw @qammh-blog @beardedoafdonutwagon @jared2612 @princess-geek

******

Maxwell woke up the next morning, needing a shit ton of caffeine to get him through the day. Riley wasn’t on the sofa, checking the bathroom she wasn’t there. He had hoped that she would meet up with them regularly and that she hadn’t done another moonlight flit.

The room was spinning and his head was pounding. The headache became worse with the loud bang on the door interrupting the peace.

“Li? What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, and wondered if you and Drake wanted to do something today.”

Maxwell motioned him into the kitchen. Locking the door, he turned to face the kitchen- noticing Riley’s bra on the floor he stood on it attempting to kick it under the couch. Liam turned around providing a bewildered look.

“Oh don’t worry about me Liam! Too much coffee- the caffeine has given me a twitch in my leg. My body is definitely waking up now Li.”

“Why are you shouting?”

“Me shout? Am I shouting Liam?”

*****

Drake woke up abruptly, hearing Maxwell shouting- wondering where the fire was. One name was constantly repeated Liam. Shaking Riley, he needed to wake her up but not startle her that she would scream. Her eyes fluttered open, “Riley Liam’s here. Hide somewhere.”

“Why do I need to hide? I’m not with him. People can have one night stands Drake.”

“Please, I don’t want you to have another argument.”

******

Liam overheard voices coming from Drakes room.

“Did Drake have a one night stand? Who was the lucky lady?”

“Nooo. Drake isn’t the type to have a one night stand. He will be on the phone to his mom- whispering because he’s hungover.”

Before Liam could respond, Drake appeared in the hallway- Maxwell poured him a black coffee. Feeling relieved that his hysterical shouting had worked.

“Liam, what are you doing here?”

“He wanted us to do something with him later. How’s your mom? Is she okay?” Drake looked confused at first then understood that Maxwell had saved his neck again.

“Sounds good, we could do something in a couple of hours. Erm she’s fine. I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying my heads banging.”

“I’ll pick you both up later then. Are you sure there wasn’t a girl here?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“There’s a black dress on the floor?” Fuck!

“We got that drunk, Maxwell decided to do his best drag impression. It scared Leo away.”

“Ah I see. I wish I could have seen that. See you later.”

*****

Making sure the coast was clear, Drake opened the wardrobe door- he threw her a shirt to wear. Walking into the kitchen, Maxwell wore a huge grin.

“Good job I wore those ear muffs eh?”

“Yes good job Max.” Riley looked at Drake blushing.

“I’ll have a coffee then get off if you don’t mind.” Maxwell poured her a coffee, still laughing at the pair. Excusing himself he didn’t want to play gooseberry.

“Thank you for last night Drake. I really enjoyed myself.” Unable to hide the smile, he gave her a quick hug.

“Me too. You could have chosen anyone for a one night stand- I’m glad someone chose me.”

“Hey guys. Who says it has to be a one night stand?” Maxwell interrupted after earwigging from a distance. Coming closer to them he began blowing kisses- winding the two up- from in the hallway.

Riley prepared herself to do the walk of shame, promising Maxwell to arrange another night out. Drake escorted her to the door, eyes full of desire. Kissing her gently- she smiled and left.

*****

Walking out of the apartment block, she was still shaken up from the mugging- keeping to main roads, she was given a rape alarm for precaution from her manager which she was grateful for.

Liam stayed in the limo around the corner from Max’s apartment, he had an inkling that the dress belonged to Riley. It had her scent on it which he wasn’t going to admit to his friends. His eyes widened when he saw her walking in that specific dress. Following her, he just wanted to talk.

“Riley.” Hearing his voice, she ignored him and increased her walking speed. Forgetting how much of a fast walker he was, he caught up to her immediately, grabbing her wrist- not intending on harming her, just attempting to gain her attention.

“Liam, I have to go. Please just leave me alone.”

“No. Please I just want to talk. I have the limo around the corner. I need to give you some closure. I know you’ve moved on. I know you was in the flat. In drake’s bed.” His face grimaced, at the thought of his so called friend and the only woman he had truly loved together.

“It was a one night stand. I’m sure you’ll understand. I mean you had one of those. Maybe even more. I don’t need to explain myself to you or no one. Are you jealous Mr Rhys?” She asked rhetorically.

“Yes I am. I’m not going to lie. I know I messed up Riley. Please can we talk.”

“No liam. I have nothing to say to you. Apart from thank you.”

“Did you ever love me? Is there a chance you could love me again?”

“I never stopped loving you Liam. I’m a mug for that.”

“I’ve called off my engagement. We could take it slow.”

“Liam, you made your bed. Now lay in it. I have to go.” Turning away from him, she felt guilty- but why should she? He messed up their relationship not her. Hoping he wouldn’t follow her, there were people just staring at the pair. Wishing the ground would swallow her up quickly- she needed to get back to the club as soon as possible.

“Riley I have a daughter.”

“Oh you are unbelievable. You have a daughter, yet you call your engagement off and come running to me. I don’t think so liam. I hope you and Madeleine will be very happy.”

******

Riley returned to the strip club, her mind was all over the place.

“Hey baby. Did you have a good night?”

“Yes thank you. It was good to catch up with some old friends.”

“You’re on the early shift tonight. The girls are practicing some new moves. If you want you can learn with them.”

“Will do. Thanks Rita.”

Needing to do anything to keep her mind off Liam’s bombshell and Drake.

Drake turned to face her, knowing he was breaking the ‘friend rule’- no matter how appalling Liam was towards her, he was still his friend. She was his before. Pulling her towards him into a hesitant hug- he had one night stands before but never had a connection with the women. In the back of his mind, he wondered if she was using him as a rebound. But he didn’t care- if they could both make each other happy for one night- he was intending on doing it. Both their hearts beating faster, he noticed her close the distance, her baby blues contained desire.

Drake crashed his lips onto hers kissing as if their lives depended on it. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, starting off gentle. Rileys arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer- encouraging him to deeper the kiss as his arms found their way around her petite frame. From the kitchen, to the bedroom, they couldn’t get enough of each other.

The kiss became more passionate before Drake pushed her gently backwards laying her on her back on the bed. The touch of his body on top of hers, made her feel loved. Hovering over her, he began to gently kiss every inch of her curvy body- he placed an extra gentle kiss on her forehead- before she dragged him back up to hovering over her- their eyes both fixated on each other.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Riley couldn’t understand why he would apologise. Did he regret the instant connection they had?

“I don’t know. Do you want this? I just need to be sure.”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here if not. I couldn’t help but want to get to know you when you all arrived.”

Pulling him down back on to her. The slightest bit of stubble rubbed her skin but she didn’t care- he wasn’t her usual type, but he was handsome- there was something about this tall and dark man and his presence made her fell intoxicated as well as the his scent of whiskey that she was inhaling.

“Drake, I want you.” She pleaded with him, he nodded in response. Her heart pounding she stood up, pulling him towards her. Standing on her tip toes she intended on discarding all of his clothes and Maxs top that she was wearing to the floor. Touching his warm muscled abs- he sighed at her soft touch. Working her way down to his zip- he looked bewildered, imagining what it would be feel like to have this gorgeous woman as his.

Biting her lip, she watched him remove his trousers- his erection in his boxers, caught her gaze- quickly she returned her gaze to his eyes. He smirked knowing exactly where her eyes had previously been. Kneeling on the floor, she pulled his boxers down- before licking her lips, she stroked his length, before taking it fully in her mouth.

“Riley... you’re... oh god.” Riley looked up at him fluttering her eyelashes, assuming he was enjoying the pleasure. Feeling his cock move at every move- knowing she was pleasing him, she immediately increased her pace.

“Ri, slow down. I mean, I don’t want you to- I’d love for you to carry on .... but I’m going to cum.” He panted, hoping she wouldn’t think he was ungrateful for the unexpected pleasure she had provided him with. Picking her up- he carried her effortlessly over to the bed. Laying her down, he hovered over her, placing her hands above her head, holding them with one hand- his other hand roamed her body, circled her breasts- before kissing her hard.

“Tell me what you want? Is it me you want?”

“I want you. I want you Drake. Please..”

Drake slid his hand between her thighs- positioning his thumb at her entrance. The slightest touch, made her instantly damp. Kissing her neck and shoulder, whilst working his thumb over her clit in a tantalising rhythm, she tried to remain quiet- not wanting to disrespect Maxwell’s hospitality, “Drake.” She screamed, losing herself in the pleasure. All her muscles began to quiver. Feeling breathless already, Drake pumped his fingers inside her rapidly increasing his speed, making her uncontrollably scream his name. After a while he removed his now coated fingers, replacing them with his tongue instead.

“You taste so good, baby.” He said before plunging his tongue deeper inside. “Fuck! Drake.... oh god. I can’t stay quiet.... Max is going to ...... to... kill me” Riley screamed, as she dug her manicured nails in his back as he continued to pleasure her. Removing his mouth, he smiled at her expression, her whole body trembled.

Before she could recover, he teased her placing his cock at her entrance- gently rubbing against it. “Stop teasing Drake. This isn’t funny. I need you now.”

“I need you too. I know I keep saying it but you are beautiful.” Slowly entering her, he allowed her time to get used to his large girth. Holding that position, their eyes fixated on each other. Drake began to thrust, taking his time wanting to enjoy making love with her. “You feel so good, baby.” He growled before the thrusts increased becoming more passionate, hitting her in that spot. “You feel good too. Don’t stop! I’m so close.” “I’m not planning to. I want you to cum for me again, before I do.”

His thrusts were powerful as their bodies rocked in sync perfectly together. Drake’s movements slowed down, as he released himself inside her. She felt his warm seed spill into her. She would think about the consequences in the morning.

“You are... wow. Thank you.” Riley opened her eyes, as Drake removed himself off her. Holding his hand, she turned to face him. Cuddling into his embrace. Both breathless, they laid in silence- until Riley heard him take a deep breath.

“No thank you. I’ve never had a one night stand. I don’t think I want another one. I don’t think anyone could compare.”

“Boosting my ego slightly there.”

“I mean it Drake. That was amazing. I can’t catch my breath.”

“You took my breath away when you sat on my lap.”

“Charmer. I could do it again if you’d like? Make the most out of tonight.” Drake felt his cock rise at the thought of it- before he could respond she was on top of him teasing him. Holding her hips, he guided her as she began to ride him.

“Beautiful girl.”

“My handsome stranger.”

“Riley? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Sorry Mercy. Are you going to teach me some moves then?”

“Are you sure? You were in a world of your own.”

“My ex caused some trouble last night. I went out with the other guys. Ended up at my old apartment. And slept with my ex’s friend.”

“And?”

“And we had the most amazing sex. Then this morning, I bumped into my ex who informed me that he had a child, called off his engagement but wants me back. I don’t know what to do Merc?”

“What did he do to you?”

“He cheated on me with his brothers ex.”

“If I was You I’d stay well clear of him. How about I teach you a sexy move incase his friend comes in again.”

******

Drake and Maxwell got ready for their afternoon with Liam. The bachelor knocked on the door, both men looked sheepish as Liam broke down crying.

“Li, what’s up?”

“I’ve lost her for good haven’t I? She slept with you Drake. I’m not annoyed, I can’t blame you. It was all my fault. I need to tell you something.”

“Liam I’m so sorry. It just happened. I won’t go near her again.”

“I have a daughter. Myself and Madeleine have a daughter. We conceived her the night I cheated on Riley.”

“And you’re telling us this now? How did you keep that a secret?”

“Money buys you things. A nanny. Drake do you like her?”

“I... I think she’s beautiful Liam, I can’t deny that. But I won’t go near her again. I promise.”

“Hang on, she’s single your single. No offence Liam.” Maxwell couldn’t believe that he would be playing piggy in the middle.

“I’m single too. I’m risking losing my daughter. But I’m winning her back. If you want to fight for her Drake we will.”

“You’re not fighting over her! She’s not some prized possession you can fling away when you get bored Liam.” Maxwell was getting frustrated with Liam- deep down he was thrilled that Riley had come back home, but in a way he wished she had stayed away.

“Liam she was yours. I’m not getting involved in hurting anyone’s feelings.”

“So fucking her, then not willing to fight for her - you’d be hurting her.”

“It was a one night stand Liam! I doubt she even likes me more than that! If she did, you should let her go.”

“I’m not losing her again! Money buys you happiness. And I’m getting my girl back.” Liam stormed out of the apartment not giving two shits about how ridiculously arrogant he sounded. Maxwell slammed the door, before turning to Drake.

“Drake? What the fuck?”

“How can I compete against him Max?”

“He hurt her? And you’re going to push her towards him?”

“I was probably a rebound anyway. No one chooses me for a long term thing.”

“You are unbelievable. I’ve known that girl since we were in nappies. She falls in love easily. I saw the sparkle in her eyes. Stop putting yourself down and grab her while you can.”

Later that night Leo came over to Max’s apartment. The men explained what had happened- Leo just burst out laughing.

“Guys Liam is brother- you shouldn’t bitch about him to me. I’m joking. I can’t believe he has a child. But he will never win her back. Go on Walker. Go and get your girl.”

******

Drake walked to the strip club, not knowing what to do or what to say. Not knowing if Riley would appreciate him ‘stalking’ her. Heading straight to the bar, he saw her.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Where can a guy get a whiskey from around here?”

“Oh I don’t know?” Pouring him a whiskey, they both smiled at each other- providing the star crossed lovers looks.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Erm. Liam knows about us. He wasn’t pleased. He said he’s going to risk losing his child to win you back. I just thought I’d give you a heads up.”

“I know.””He caught me doing the walk of shame. He pretty much told me the same.”

“He also told me that I would have to fight him for you. I tried to explain that it was just a one time thing. But he wouldn’t listen.”

“Would you fight for me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Would you fight for me Drake? It’s quite a simple question.”

“Riley, you are not a prized possession to be won- as Maxwell said defending you.”

“What if I said that you didn’t need to fight for me?”

“I’d ask you what exactly you mean.”

“I’d never get back into a relationship with Liam. Even if he paid me a million dollars I wouldn’t. So if you want me, you’d only be fighting yourself. Come over to the pole. I’ll do you a little dance so we can talk more.”

Drake gulped, as she seductively spun around the pole.

“Whatcha think? I’ve been practising all day.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“I’ve been practising for you. Hoping you’d come. One of the girls taught me.”

Riley grabbed Drake’s hand, escorting him to a secluded area away from prying eyes.

“I finish in a couple of hours. Rita, my manager spoke to me before. Saying I’ll always have a room here, but I can go as and when I please as long as I turn up for work.”

“What are you hinting at?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you Drake.”

“Really?” Thinking he had misheard her, he couldn’t believe that someone could possibly finally choose him for once.

“Yes really. I like you.”

“I like you too.” Rising on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Wait for me?”

“I’ll meet you at ours. I’m sure Max won’t mind. I’ll pay for your cab.”

******

Finishing her shift, she was relieved to get out of their. There had been a few creeps; most likely newly married men or men that had been married for years. Mercedes had advised for her to stay behind the bar.

Walking out of the club, she was dragged into the side road next to it. Screaming she didn’t want to go through another mugging.

“Shh Ri. It’s only me.”

“Are you fucking insane? I got mugged the other day and you’re scaring the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for you to finish. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay? What did they do to you?”

“Stole my purse, gave me a few punches. Nothing I couldn’t handle but I’m still shaken up. I have to go.”

“Where are you going? Let me escort you there.”

“I’m going home.”

“Home as in Max and Drake’s?” Nodding she felt slightly guilty. Seeing him sigh, she debated about just going back inside the club.

“Liam. There is no way back for us. But don’t lose your daughter. Fight for her. Don’t let Maddy win. Your daughter should be your priority- even if she wasn’t planned. We can still be friends, I won’t hold a grudge against you.”

“I can’t see you with him.” Cupping her cheeks, she wanted and needed to avoid the temptation.

“Li, please. I’ve had closure. I’ve said we can still be friends.”

“So if I come into the club, paying you for a dance you’d do it?”

“Yes. But only because you’re a customer. Don’t be taking the piss and coming all the time.” Liam laughed, regretting losing her in the first place- it would be a miracle if she could ever forgive him.

“I promise. If I can have you as a friend it’s better than nothing. Drake is lucky. Make sure he doesn’t hurt you like I did.”

“We were never meant to be.” Hugging him, she still loved him deep down but she could never forget what he did.

*****

Escorting her safely to Max and Drake’s, he kissed her on the cheek- giving her his blessing. Max opened the door ready for world war three to begin.

“Ri are you okay?”

“Yes Max. Is Drake in?” Maxwell nodded, winking at her as she went into Drake’s room.

“Liam. What are you planning?”

“Nothing. I’m being a gentlemen making sure the lady was safe, did you know she got assaulted the other night? Didn’t think so. Goodnight Max.” Liam walked out of the apartment smirking.

*****

Closing the door, she noticed Drake wasn’t there.

“Max? Where’s Drake?”

“He came back after he had been to see you. I nipped to the store for sleepover essentials. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without informing me.” Ringing Drake, Maxwell couldn’t get through which was unusual.

“He will be back soon, don’t worry Ri. I’ll put Sex and the City on like old times.”

[aboyandhisstarship]

Tinder AU: i always figured you would out live me

TW: School shooting (kinda) hostages, guns, violence, Death of a major character

A/N: welcome to angst vile pop you, i debated the ending to this for a long time (more on that later) but decided to go with it, DO you agree with me!? tell me and find out.

David dropped the note he was holding his head in his hands before reaching over to this phone to call Gwen before met with a simple “the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected.”  

David look down feeling the tears welling on his face before his phone buzzed, he reeled himself in saying with a simple “go for Greenwood…Yes sir, not an issue at all.”

David grabbed his bag turning off his apartment light.

6 months later, C130:

The plane flew through the air, David was sleeping in the middle with Jasper doing a crossword, Tabii was trying to help but was not doing a great job, while Nurf was taking a swig of water.

David was dead to the world, as Tabii said quietly “is he ok?”

Jasper paused saying “7 letter word for natural phenome…and what do you mean?”

Tabii scoffed “rainbow and I heard the stories about him; he could be under fire with his radio busted and 3 rounds to his name and still be smiling.”

Nurf added “I heard he was real close to having smiley as his call sign.”

Jasper paused “He is mission ready.”

Tabii chuckled “oh he is everything his rep said he was…save for the optimistism”

Jasper paused saying “look…He is going through a time…he had a girl, they were getting serious…he had started ring shopping, but everyone almost bought it on another op, then he gets home to a dear john…”

Nurf said “Oh…”

Tabii frowned “dear god…”

Jasper nodded “he’s a tough guy he will bounce back…”

As all 3 looked at the sleeping red head,

Fort Bragg North Carolina:

Jasper threw a towel at David who lurched awake on his friends couch, Jasper said “davie…”

David wiped his eyes “I’m fine…”

Jasper paused “You have been crashing on my couch for the last six months. Sophie enjoys your company as much as anyone but…” referring to sophie his fiancé, a nurse currently on duty.

David sighed “soon or later I need to go back to my place…I know Jasp…just…”

Jasper nodded “everything there reminds you of her?” handing the red head a water bottle

David took the water saying “Pathetic I know…”

Jasper shook his head “David I’ve known you for years, Gwen is the only girl you ever opened up to, poured your heart out to…and she dumped you at the lowest point you have ever been…I would say you are allowed to be heartbroken.”

David shook his head “I shouldn’t have kidded myself, what is it 90 percent of all team relationship’s fail? You’re the exception jasp…but I guess I’m not.”

Jasper patted his back saying “she wasn’t right for you…that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else there.”

David grabbed his phone smiling saying “thanks Jasp… go for greenwood.” As the phone buzzed

Seattle:

Gwen sighed as she looked over one of her grad students thesis, she almost laughed at the irony…the girl it seemed had a boyfriend the she was preoccupied with, causing her to delay her submission, Gwen almost out of habit let it go, saying how important spending time with your partner is, she will always hold onto that from her time with David, not to waste time because you never know when that phone will ring.

Gwen shuddered, she didn’t think about David often but whenever she did she felt a pang of sadness he was only always good to her…whenever he was there anyway, she turned the tv to the news…she never told anyone but she always watched every night just in case, hoping to never see his face.”

Gwen leaned in her chair before shaking her head “I left him, why do I care!?”

A voice in the back of her mind answered “because you know he did not deserve what you did to him.”

Fort Bragg North Carolina:

Captain Miller smiled “thanks for coming on such short notice.” Addressing David’s team

David shook his head “what’s the op sir.”

Captain Miller pulled up a picture saying “this Mai Cai Shek.”

Nurf chewed on a carrot “so who is this guy, terrorist, arms dealer, double parker?”

Tabii shrugged “who cares we render him into prison or grave and go home.”

Miller coughed “Mister Shek, is a student or engineering in the university of Seattle applied science division.”

David shrugged “ok a brainy terrorist?”

Miller shook his head “I know this outside your specialty…but you are to shadow him and ensure his safety.”

David blinked as he said “Sounds like a job for the Seals sir?”

Miller nodded “and you would be right, but this team was personally requested, the request was passed on to the pentagon who agreed to it.”

David blinked “who the hell is this guy.”

Miller sighed “didn’t tell me the details only that the powers that be are very eager for him to stay alive, questions?”

No one answered so miller sighed “you are wheels up in one hour.”

Seattle:

David leaned on the counter of the campus coffee shop, he was smartly dressed…made to look nerdier with a sweater and a pair of glasses, an earwig concealed in his ear. He casually observed the subject saying quietly “redcap.”

Tabii reported “I’m in Nomad, his dorm is bugged and we are inside his computer…this guy can’t order a pizza without us knowing what’s on it.”

David nodded “keep it subtle redcap….dirt diver?”

Nurf sat in a car down the road saying “go Nomad.”

David took the handed coffee thanking the barista he took a sip to cover his question “are you ready for the QR?”

Nurf nodded “roger nomad, t-Minus 30 seconds to hard evac.”

David nodded as he stuffed some change into his wallet saying “cool Breeze?”

Jasper dressed with a bit more punk flair said “I’m on the south end of the building nomad.”

David turned around saying “roger, I’ll take the west…”

David came face to face with Gwen, He tried to play it off speaking in a German accent “Pardon me ma’am.”

Gwen however smiled “Ma’am…”

David froze knowing now that Gwen had recognized him he said “Cool breeze.” Under his breath

Jasper nodded “I see her…Nomad, do what you need to…I have the subject.”

Gwen was looking puzzled as she mouthed “cool breeze?”

David then walked up to Gwen pretending to drop something said quickly “what are you doing here?”

Gwen fumed “me!? I work here what about…”

David cut her off “quiet, we can talk over there.”

Gwen eyed a campus security guard before nodding following David to the table, David sat down saying quietly “cool breeze I am at the west side.”

Gwen sat down before saying “Are you stalking me!?”

David’s eyes went wide “what no!?”

Gwen narrowed her eyes “then why are you….are you working!?” she lowered her voice

David looked down not answering, Gwen frowned “you are aren’t you…”

David sighed “you know…”

Gwen scoffed “you can’t talk about it I know…”

The subject began to move followed by jasper, David let him pass as he glanced at his watch “Gwen it was good seeing you.” Getting up to leave

Gwen said “oh no you don’t.” following the solider out of the door

Gwen yelled in the parking lot “you don’t get to run away on your little missions again.”

David stopped asked “Cool breeze?”

Jasper returned “subject is on the road…myself and dirt diver are following.”

David nodded “Roger, redcap.”

Tabii returned “on my way nomad.”

Gwen demanded “are you really going to ignore me!?”

David turned  off his com before facing Gwen “you left me! “he yelled “you walked away and never looked back not me!”

Gwen demanded “I did it because you are always like this! Anytime anywhere you get a call and leave with barely a word!”

David fumed  “you chose to walk away, you didn’t even wait you left me a note to find when I got back, DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THE DAY BEFORE I GOT HOME GWEN!?” he yelled

Gwen didn’t answer as he yelled “THEY DIED GWEN I LOST TWO MEMBERS OF MY TEAM I WAS LEFT IN CHARGE AND COME HOME TO FIND OUT YOU RAN AWAY! YOU DIDN’T HAVE THE SAND TO DO IT TO MY FACE, YOU DECIDED THAT IT WOULD BE EASIER TO RUN AWAY!”                

Gwen shrunk as David cooled off “you couldn’t handle it that’s fine! I won’t hold that against you, but you left, you changed your number ,you walked away and you have the fucking guts to stand in front of me and get mad that I walk away without a word.” he paused before letting out a cruel laugh as Tabii pulled up

David walked over to the car saying “let’s go redcap”

Tabii got out and said “one second” and saw David slink into the passenger she  charged up to Gwen saying quietly “You broke his heart bitch, if you ever try to talk to him again…we will put you in the ground, and if you know anything about us you know that is not a metaphor.”

Tabii climbed in peeling Away, David reached up to turn his com back up but Tabii stopped him saying “easy boss, let us help you.”

David for the first time broke down crying saying “I really thought she loved me.”

Tabbii sighed as she got the heartbroken solider Ice cream.

Gwen meanwhile stood in the parking lot mouth wide open.

Safe house:

David sat in the safe house staring at the wall as Jasper sat beside him “you good boss?”

David paused before saying “Just getting squared away Jasp…”

Tabii added more info to the board with the man subject on the wall, Nurf sighed “everything about this guy seems normal…who the hell is he.”

Tabii laughed “we are trained for…cough target elimination…”

David looked up “did you say cough out loud?”

Tabii looked sheepish “I always wanted to do that…”

David shook his head saying “alright…work backwards…I’m here to kill this guy…how do I do it?”

Nurf shrugged “a sniper shot would do it…”

Jasper shook his head “nah…if we were in Iraq I would say yes…but here…a media circus…”

Tabii nodded “a student getting his head blown off in the middle of the street might make the evening news…”

David nodded “so I need top take him out In a way that not light me up like Vegas lights, household accident?”

Tabii shook his head “we got his house bugged…he is not quite paranoid but differently careful, he is well liked but isolated.”

Jasper shrugged “sounds like the perfect target, over confidant but with plenty of openings”

Tabii laughed “you would think so, but the man is somehow on the floor with the highest number of busy bodies I have ever seen, I was stopped 4 times, dressed as a maintence worker…plus a lot of security cam’s.”

David threw up and catching a paper ball saying “so at home is out, and taking him out in the middle of the street will draw to much attention…what do that leave us…”

The team looked at each other the same way as Tabii said quietly “Jack reacher…”

The team quickly went pale as David reached for the sat phone.

Campus:

Gwen sat outside her head in her hands, trying to ignore the voice in her head saying “he is right you know, he risks his life every day and you yelled at him.”

Gwen groaned “quiet you.”

The voice said “hey don’t shot the messenger I’m you, you know.”

Gwen nodded “I know…but sadly you don’t know how to make this right anymore then I do…”

Gwen then heard what sounded like gun shots.

Nurf sped down the road as Miller called “Nomad, Dog patch we have reports of shots fired on campus confirm.”

David checked his MP5 as he responded “dog patch we are on quick response, requesting local support ASAP, we will be in contact in t minus 30 seconds.”

Miller nodded “roger that local police are in route, you are free to engage, good luck Nomad.”

Gwen was shoved into a room by a group of people wearing sky masks, inside was a wide variety of people, they seemed random with no real rhyme or reason to how they were chosen. one guy was shoved in next to Gwen and hit in the stomach falling to the floor as Gwen was Shoved against the wall.

The man in ski masks raised there weapons, and in that second 3 things happened, the guy on the ground sprung up from the ground producing a pistol firing wildly

The other 2 was the door was kicked open and a strange cylinder was thrown in before all hell broke out.”

David kicked open the door as Jasper threw in a flashbang, in his perifable she saw someone fire a pistol and miss every shot at the hostiles, he ignored them as the guys in the ski masks whipped around, David felt the his weapons recoil as he and his team easily shot down, the hostage takers.

David quickly moved forward seeing there subject he reported “dog patch jackpot repeat jackpot, subject is safe.”

David shoved the guy towards Nurf when he saw movement at the end of the line where Gwen looked at him with pleading eyes “David…”  blood soaking through her shirt as she collapsed. \

David Slid catching her yelling “redcap!”

Tabii was already moving “On it boss.”

David gently lay her down to let the medic work saying “Dogpatch we have a civ hit…”

Miller asked “was it the terroists?”

David at the guy pistol still smoking smiling like a hero with a direct line of sight to Gwen David growled “negative…we had a bit of a john Mclean.”

Miller responded “roger, EMT’s are in route render aid.”

David was barely listening as he said “wilco.”

Grabbing the smug man forcing to his feet he said “hey I’m a hero!?”

David felt his fist clentch as Jasper said quickly “Nomad…he didn’t mean it.”

David responded “Jas…cool Breeze this son of a bitch, if she dies…”

Jasper countered “he will get his…he is not worth it.”

David dropped him kicking him in the stomach he said coldly “whoops.”

The man groaned “fuck you…whoever you are!”

Tabii yelled “Nomad, we need  to get her to a hospital now!”

David nodded “Cool Breeze.”

Jasper returned “go, I got this.”

Using a tarp as a make shift way to carry her they brought Gwen to the car, David floored it saying “Dogpatch nomad, inform county general they have a GSW in bound.”

Miller responded “roger nomad, wait for ambulance.”

David responded “no can do sir, Redcap says she is dying.”

Miller said “David…we are off the record what is happening?”

Davis returned “its Gwen sir…she worked at this campus…she got hit.”

Miller said simply “we will let them know Nomad.”

David returned think you sir.

Hospital:

The car screamed in front of the Er as David and tabii carried in the bleeding Gwen, they were dressed in full tac gear as a doctor bewildered ran up to them having justgot the call, Tabii helped them on the gurney telling them the issue and the treatment she had provided.

David fired a smile at the others in the waiting room making a half-hearted attempt to hide his weapon, he approached reception the woman looked him up and down clearly reaching for a panic button as he asked “can I help you.”

David answered simply “My name is….Her name is Gwen santos, she has o Negative Blood, and is not Allergic to latex or any medications.”

The nurse nodded “yes of course Mister…”

David looked sheepish “Blue…Mister Blue.”

The nurse nodded as David stared off into the distance before saying “roger Dogpatch, Thank you sir…I will Nomad out.”

David smiled “I’m going take my weapons off and come back if that is ok?”

The woman returned “sure…”

David yelled “redcap!”

Tabii handed her weapons over before filling in the rest of Gwen’s info, David saw the hospital security, he carefully reached into his pocket pulling out a card, he carries on state wide ops, the card simply  had a phone number on it.”

6 hours later:

The entire team was in the waiting room now, everyone was giving the strange types a large amount of space, a doctor entered the waiting room reading and then rereading the name he said “mister blue…”

David stood up “that’s me…”

The doctor looked down “we have bad news…”

3 days later:

David sat on the back of his car drinking some doctor pepper, the situation was nostalgic to 6 months ago when the rest of his team died, but this time it was different. Jasper approached “david…”  

David looked over at his head shifting on his bumper to let him sit down, David chuckled “I changed one heart break for another…”

Jasper nodded “Listen about Gwen…”

David shook her head “she left me…I shouldn’t care but…”

Jasper smiled “but you still do inspite of all the fucked shit we have seen…you still care about her.”

David threw his can into a trash bag saying with a sigh “funny, she left me to get away from all this…I guess it didn’t work.”

Jasper shook his head “you can’t do that yourself.”

David crushed the another can in his hand nearly full of pop as he growled “I should have kicked that gun club member into next week…he fired down range…nailed her right in the heart….she never stood a chance all because that guy wanted to be a hero.”

David felt the tears come “her family…they are uhh planning the funeral…better them then me I guess, I mean one of us goes the army…they just take care of it…but if I had to…I wouldn’t even know where to start…”

Jasper hugged his friend “easy there Davie…”

David leaned into the hug “she was the best thing to ever happen to me Jasp…I let her go…I let her leave…I should have tried more…should have done more.”

Jasper sighed “david…nothing could have changed  what happened…even if you stayed together she still would have taken that job…that man was always going to be there…you can’t do that, you can’t go down that road…everything that happens down range.”

David nodded “stays down range…” he fought off the tears best he could. As Jasper deepened the hug.

2 weeks later, new York:

David adjusted his tie as he waited in line for the wake, Gwen’s mom saw him saying “David…”

David saw her saying “hello Miss Santo’s…sorry if I’m intruding.”

she hugged him saying “you were close to Gwen that all that matters now…”

David nodded “Thank you…I’m….i’m sorry for your lose.”

Gwen’s mom give him a quick squeeze “whatever issue we may have had is over David…we are happy you are here for her now.”

David said glumly “wish I was there more.”

Gwen’s mom nodded sadly letting the red head pass, David saw Gwen’s body lying in the coffin he said quietly “Sorry Gwen…for everything”

As he touched the edge of the coffin, he left the funeral room leaning against the wall and finally breaking down and crying.

A/N: so Gwen is dead! F i thought long and hard as to weather or not i wanted her to be wounded by that guy and then form there either reconcile with David pr leave him again, but then i decided to not give her the chance. she dies saying his name sudden and terrible. so of course the question is, is this story over? answer: maybe? i write kind of like valve produces games, coming and going to projects as i feel, but right now the answer is most likely yes, the tragic and beautiful love story is done... will David be ok? probably he has a soilid support network, but he will always have a Gwen shaped hole in his heart, alright, now that, that is done as always leave your feedback? what did you think about Gwen dying, did it feel legit? or did it seem like i was killing off a female for the sake of Drama (TM) let me know i either reply, Ask or tag form...and have a nice night

[adleryoung]

"Here is my stash, Sire," Typantronn said, handing me a surprisingly large bag.

"Behold the best grub the forest has to offer," she exclaimed as I opened the bag and stared down into a writhing mass of aphids, earwigs, caterpillars, and literal grubs.

"Be not shy, Sire," Typantronn continued, noticing my hesitation.  "Dig in!  Eat hearty!  What's mine is thine, and there's plenty more where that came from!"

"I'm, er, not accustomed to eating such things raw," I murmured truthfully.  "I don't suppose you have a cook-pot?"

"Alas, no."

I pondered for a moment and tried to visualize the interior of the Royal Kitchen.  There were cabinets along one wall, and inside those cabinets some pots ... I imagined a stew cauldron ... I pinpointed its location ... I grasped it with my mind and willed it to be here before me .. I whispered an appropriate phrase of Gramarye ...

And I was looking at a medium-sized stock pot.  Not exactly what I was hoping for, but it would do!

"Impressive work, Sire," Typantronn observed approvingly.  "But that is a large pot, and thou lookest hungry.  I shall fetch more tasty bugs for thee!"

"Wait," I interrupted.  "What I need more than that is some herbs, some starchy roots and leafy greens.  And some water.  Can you find those?"

"Yuck," Typantronn grimaced.  "Truly there is no accounting for taste.  But if thou desirest to ruin thy bug repast by making a complete hash of it, then I shall comply forthwith!"

I apported sticks from the forest as Typantronn flew back and forth with cups of water which she dumped into the pot, and various possible ingredients which she laid on the ground beside me.

After constructing a cook fire, I set the pot on top of it and began to work on my stew.  As I stirred it, I thought over the current situation.

Apparently Lady Hawke had neither killed nor restrained Terry, but had instead joined forces with him.   Her wealth and his madness would make a dangerous combination!

I needed to know more about the rabbits before I could devise a strategy against them.  My plans could change after the Ixies came back with detailed information, but I began considering the possibility of turning the rabbits against the shoe cult, and vice-versa.  I had already had pretty good results pitting my enemies against each other .. admittedly I still was surrounded by a hostile forest, but at least the Duchess of Daisies had been forced to leave the island I was living on.  That cut the number of threats in half, which is what I'd call success!

I wondered, with a pang of bitterness, what Ethel and PJ were doing.  What if they'd figured out a way to have children?  They would have churned out a whole brood by now.  I shuddered at the thought, and felt genuine relief that I wouldn't be able to check on them until after I had returned to the scrying tower.  I bet Ethel was old by now.  That's what lowfolk did; they got old, and then before you knew it they died.

Hmm, this made me think of Oak.  When I turned her into a little girl, had I re-started her lifespan from a younger point?  Would she now live a full .. what, eighty years .. plus however old she'd been before I transmogrified her?  If that was the case, this could be a boon to offer my followers.  Lowfolk in the stories were always desperate to prolong their pitifully short lives - and who could blame them?

"LOL wut's cookin, hotstuff?" Angela giggled, interrupting my reverie with an embarrassingly obvious Wile.

I glanced over to reprimand her for not helping Typantronn bring supplies, but as I looked at her I noticed that she was actually kind of cute, in a bizarre and unnatural way.

So instead I decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, and fired back with some Wiles of my own.

"Hey doll," I purred.  "Why don't you fetch me a couple of mushrooms?"

"EEEEEEEE!!!1!!" she squealed.

[timey-roleplay-hub]

OOC; blog updates

     So! Might as well give an update on what’s up, since i haven’t popped onto here in quite a while-- and a number of my old blogs have been gathering dust for quite some time, too.

     I won’t be deleting any, but there’s a number I’m going to effectively be archiving; either from lack of muse, lack of continuity, or just having way too much on my plate. Instead I’ll be putting my focus onto just a handful of them that I have more inspiration for.

      I’ll list the blogs I’m keeping down below; if it’s not listed, feel free to assume that I probably won’t be returning to it. I’ll order them by activity level too. Some newer ones are WIPs, so I’ll place those as ??? for now. Those marked as inactive I don’t have muse for currently, but hope to return to at some point.

     I plan to go through and rework this hub a bit too, though this blog is just a holding place for sideblogs anyways so that is less pressing.

     Lonely Pearl + Fable     -     forgotten-fable     (f2f, moderate activity)

     Kris Dreemurr     -     unchained-lightner     (f2f, low activity)

     Gregor the Overlander    -    warrior-no-more     (f2f, inactive)

           -     bite-me-sandwich     (ic blog, ???)

     Edward Erwick     -    not-an-earwig     (f2f, inactive)

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #1

UPDATE 1: Superhero Aspirant

Alright, now for something different. I’m going to read Worm during the next year and half or two years, apparently! The author is named John McCrae, from now on referenced as ‘Wildbow’, because that’s his online name. It’s a long, long story. Luckily, long stories don’t intimidate me. Let’s get into this with gusto, shall we? There are thirty arcs to deal with here, and as it’s obvious, we’ll start from the top. Let this journey into the world of Worm be worthwhile.

Brief note from the author:  This story isn’t intended for young or sensitive readers.

So I have heard, author, thanks for the note. Not that such warning means much, in terms of plot or characters. I have always been a bit wary when the author of a story says it isn’t intended for ‘sensitive readers’, but from what I have heard, this time it’s a valid warning. I wasn’t given any specific details, though, and I don’t really want details. I’m sure I’ll know why the warning was given once I get to those parts.

Looks like this is a story narrated in first person! Tackling the difficult challenges, eh, Mr. Wildbow?

This story starts in a classroom setting, and the so-far unnamed narrator’s first action is being impatient and fidget with her pen, doodling and unable to focus. An acceptable introduction, I’d say. The class is about capes, a topic the Narrator was hoping to hear about since the start of the semester, and unless the Narrator is some kind of hardcore fan of the intricacies of geography/geology, I’d say ‘capes’ refer to the article of clothing. Now that the topic is finally touched she can’t focus.

The teacher, Mr. Gladly, is the kind of teacher teenagers would like to have in their schools, the kind that’s usually relegated to Disney live-action movies, but the Narrator doesn’t like him. I have the impression she finds him grating, at the very least. A classmate by the name of Madison Clements smirks, class is over, and homework is given: ‘think about capes and how they’ve impacted the world around you’.  Worldbuilding ahoy, perhaps?

Now that the class is almost over, the students mingle and talk. Madison quickly takes her position as the queen bee of the class, gathering friends and receiving a description from the Narrator. There’s a clear undercurrent of disdain here, and I have the feeling Madison would describe the Narrator in similar terms. ‘Madison wore a strapless top and denim skirt, which seemed absolutely moronic to me given the fact that it was still early enough in the spring that we could see our breath in the mornings’ Alright, we have a location and a timeframe for the beginning of the story. All that remains now is a hopefully short description of the protagonist and –oh, there it is, vivid enough to get one to imagine the Narrator yet short enough for it to not be cumbersome. Done! All the minor details to be described at the start of a story have been covered. We’re off to a good start, in technical terms.

As soon as the class is over, the Narrator runs away from the classroom and into the bathroom, nervously waiting for a free stall, and locks herself inside to indulge in the scene of the asocial kid eating the lunch while sitting on the toilet. I have to say Mr. Wildbow has done a rather good job painting the Narrator as disdainful of everything around her, yet nervous of what the other girls may think – or maybe fearing they’ll bother her. It’s a daring risk, one wrong step and it can turn the protagonist into an unlikable person. With some luck Mr. Wildbow won’t fall in the traps many other authors fall into while trying to do this.

‘The only book in my bag that I hadn’t already read was called ‘Triumvirate’, a biography of the leading three members of the Protectorate’. Book that, in her opinion, may have been all made up. What kind of world is this, exactly, I wonder? ‘Protectorate’, huh.

The Narrator didn’t even have time to finish her lunch when other girls enter the bathroom, and she has the bad luck that they precisely knocked on her stall. “Oh my god, it’s Taylor!” Taylor, I see. The mere existence of Taylor in the vicinity seems enough to get the girls to plan something, and when Taylor tries to run away, she finds out she’s locked inside the stall. The girls, who it’s then revealed to be Madison and two friends of hers, pour bottles of juice all over Taylor. Once Taylor is completely soaked, the stall can finally be opened, and she steps out to the jeers and laughs of Madison and company. “My attention was on the faint roar of blood pumping in my ears and an urgent, ominous crackling ‘sound’ that wouldn’t get any quieter or less persistent if I covered my ears with my hands.” Thankfully for everyone involved, there’s no tearful confrontation that could give more fodder to those three, they just leave the bathroom and Taylor resignedly tries to clean her glasses the best she can.

She’s furious yet powerless to fight back or do anything to stop it. It’s not the first time she has gone through something like this, her locker used to be routinely vandalized, and all this has been going on for a year and half. The loss of the only refuge she had during lunch break has hit her especially hard, so hard she let the buzzing and crackling sound mentioned before grow. Ah, here we go! I thought it’d take longer before there was a demonstration of how Taylor’s power worked, but there it is. It’s all responding to her subconscious, but once it gets in gear she can control it all involuntarily. That’s what happens now, she’s so frustrated and filled with hatred she doesn’t care about restraining herself anymore and lets the bugs all come to her!

‘On every surface of the bathroom were bugs; Flies, ants, spiders, centipedes, millipedes, earwigs, beetles, wasps and bees.  With every passing second, more streamed in through the open window and the various openings in the bathroom, moving with surprising speed’. ...you know, depending of the location of this school, it’d be surprising if no one outside noticed constant streams of insects entering through a window, or noticed and didn’t care. Who knows, maybe anomalies like these are commonplace in this world. Maybe teenagers tend to use their powers without restraint all the time. The bugs cover everything in the bathroom, waiting for Taylor to impart orders.

Like I’m sure a lot of people have often felt before, Taylor wishes she could just unleash her powers and give fair retribution to everyone who has slighted, mocked and bullied her, but that’s no more than a flight of fantasy, not because she can’t, but because she shouldn’t. ‘I was all too aware that I’d get caught and arrested if I attacked my fellow students.  There were three teams of superheroes and any number of solo heroes in the city.’ So powers are relatively common, but not so much that everyone has it, apparently. There was no fear of any other student attacking back, so it isn’t like anyone goes around parading their powers. Superheroes and heroes are known yet there’s a certain level of secrecy, or at least that’s the impression I have. So that’s the kind of world this is! Mr. Wildbow throws in a chain of morality in the form of Taylor’s father, as the fear of his disapproval is what grounds her the most. ‘Except I was better than that.’, she says in reference to having revenge on people despite the consequences.

Somehow I have the feeling there’ll be hell to pay if anything happens to her father.

All the bugs are told to go away like nothing happened, and I choose to believe someone standing outside the school saw the clouds of bugs enter the window – and then leave – and shrugged their shoulders. Pah, that happens every day. No reason for alarm. Taylor leaves the school too, enduring the snickering from random students on the way to the door of the school, and takes a bus to return to her home.

‘I was going to be a superhero.  That was the goal I used to calm myself down at moments like these.  It was what I used to make myself get out of bed on a school day’ ...given the very short plot summary I was told first; such goal won’t happen. Oh boy. It’ll be a treat to watch how exactly Taylor went from ‘hoping to be a superhero’ to ‘I joined a group of villains’. Paraphrasing. Quite tragic, if I may say. I’m starting to have a pretty good idea of why such change happened, though, the chapter did a rather good job showing that. ‘It made it possible to keep from dwelling on the fact that Emma Barnes, leader of the trio, had once been my best friend.’ And that adds even more reasons for the change of alignment that’s going to come later. Betrayal and/or a possible falling out, huh. Could be interesting!

All in all, this was a rather solid first chapter. Taylor was introduced in a way that showed part of her personality – parts that may be considered mostly negative but are good base for the direction the story may take – there’s an inkling of what the world will be like, and there was a glimpse of Taylor’s powers, which is something I didn’t really expect in the first chapter. Good start for Worm! I like the writing style, too. Personally I’m partial to third-person omniscient narrators, so I’m skeptical about how well first-person will work, but so far Mr. Wildbow has worked with this very well. I didn’t think Madison wouldn’t be the leader of the bullying trio, that was a bit of a swerve, but it’s not bound to be important in the big scheme of things...I think.

Her power is a good base for her potential turn to villainy, too. I’m no connoisseur of superheroes, honestly, and all I know is pretty much all the superficial information there’s to know, but nothing else further than that. It’s just my personal impression, but I’m pretty sure that if you stopped a random person in the street and asked ‘hey, you think someone who can control bugs is a superhero or a supervillain?’ the amount of ‘supervillain’ answers would overwhelm the other option. It simply reeks of villainy, given the image people in general have of bugs. No one has phobias about super-strength or laser eyes. When someone mentions control over bugs, I’m pretty sure what most people would imagine would be a person completely covered with insects, which can be a very unsettling and nightmare-inducing mental image for a lot of people, most wouldn’t imagine a person with a bug-themed superhero costume.

Since we’re here I may as well go to the next chapter, why not.

Gestation 1.2. I just realized the first arc was named ‘gestation’. Huh. The subtlety hits like a brick to the face, but it’s fitting.

The chapter starts with Taylor recounting what happened with Emma and why they weren’t friends anymore. It’s...much shorter and vague than I expected, honestly. ‘So when I got back from nature camp just a week before our first year at high school started, to find that she wasn’t talking to me?  That she was calling Sophia her best friend?’ That’s...kind of a sudden fall from grace, isn’t it? And it doesn’t seem like Taylor did anything to alienate Emma or anything, it just...it just happened. I’ll take your word for it, Taylor, but I wouldn’t be surprised if something happened and Taylor simply didn’t realize how significant it was, or didn’t want to tell what it was.

Not wanting to think any more about Emma and get case of Sudden Turncoat Friend, Taylor turns her attention to the backpack and the damage the sodas and juices did on it. To summarize the paragraph: it’s ruined and everything inside is ruined. Special attention to a hardcover: ‘That notebook was – had been – my notes and journal for my hero career.’ ...yikes. Really, no surprise Taylor’s goal changed. I’m sure there’s a very good reason why Taylor would carry something as meaningful as that with her to school instead of leaving it at home, right? Yeah, there must be. I hope.

Given how ruined the notebook is, Taylor may have to rewrite everything in a new notebook, and it’s a lot of information. It had writing about her powers, the training she did, drawings of costumes, crossed out name ideas -- ...is the ‘Worm’ title of this story referencing Taylor herself as an alias instead of her powers themselves? Not a very flattering name, in any case –and plans for her hero career. In other words, her own life as a hopeful superhero was there and now it’s ruined. Either she starts again or she gives up and lets all that info be potentially lost forever.

Taylor’s house is a safe place for her right now. She gets into the shower and tries to give a positive spin to everything that happened in the school bathroom. Needless to say, it’s...not a successful endeavor. I consider myself generally optimistic, and I can’t think of any perks to these events either. The ruined hero journal is what sticks in her mind the most, for reasons mentioned already.

Taylor goes into her basement and retrieves a gym bag she had hidden down there behind a panel. I again question why she’d take her hero notebook to school despite knowing her stuff couldn’t be safe anywhere near that place. Taylor takes a minute to summon bugs to come to her basement from a two blocks radius, and took out her costume from the gym bag. This wasn’t a mere dream, huh. Taylor was already making a costume, it seems.

‘The first of the spiders started coming in through the open windows and congregating on the workbench.  My power didn’t give me a knowledge of the official names of the bugs I was working with, but anyone could recognize the spiders that were crawling into the room. These were black widows.  One of the more dangerous spiders you could find in the States.  Their bite could be lethal, though it usually wasn’t, and they tended to bite with little provocation.’ Augh, geez! There’s something extraordinarily unsettling about the thoughts of dozens upon dozens of black widows living in a ratio of two blocks. Thank goodness I live in a place where the only potentially lethal insects are mosquitoes, and those are very rare in my apartment.

The spiders start to lay down the foundation of part of the costume, using their webs. Interesting use of powers, may I say. Certainly creative, I applaud your cleverness, Taylor – and by extension Mr. Wildbow. Taylor proceeds to tell how she got the idea of putting a costume together by using real spider silk. It was because not long after she discovered her powers, she watched in ‘discovery channel’ (sic) that someone had made a suit able to withstand bear attacks, and it was made of synthetic spider silk. I’m no expert, and I’m aware that spider webs can have a lot of tensile strength, but there are many problems with using real spider silk for something like this, the biggest one I can think is that it’d require the spider silk to be tensed to the limit for it to be truly effective as protection. Who knows, maybe Taylor has the means to ensure that. I’m not the hero candidate here, she is.

Speaking of creative uses of powers, Taylor breed a lot of black widows in the vicinity. Oh, jolly. She shows great capacity of management and attention in her narration, telling how she arranged the best possible time for breeding, the food, the locations, taking into account the territoriality of the spiders...a lot to have in mind yet she managed to do it. That’s talent.

The costume result so far is not pretty at all. It has rather ugly colors, in fact, expected from using real spider silk and exoskeletons from bugs to make armor. No self-respecting hero would focus on colors while designing the specs of a suit, of course, what matters is that it’s ‘flexible, durable, and incredibly lightweight,’ in which case it’s a success. Taylor found out it’d be very difficult to cut the suit. I guess there was no reason for me to be skeptical of Taylor’s planning, I suppose, although I remain unconvinced of it working in real life. Good thing it’s fiction.

So what was Taylor planning? She’d finish the costume during the month – including more appealing colors, as she said – and then once the summer began, she’d take the leap into the world of superheroics. Not a bad plan! However, the loss of her notebook seems to have spurred in her the need to take the leap way earlier than it was planned. That’s...a bad plan. This can’t be something one can rush or cut corners into. While Taylor tests one of the gloves, she has the quiet determination to do it as soon as possible. ‘I’d go out next week – no.  No more delays.  This weekend, I would be ready.’ I have so many bad feelings about how this’ll go.

That’s the end of this chapter, and Taylor has decided to take the leap of faith and hope for the best. It’s going to be a major disaster, isn’t it? Welp. I feel bad for Taylor. There’s no way this’ll go like she wants it to go.

I think I’m ending this first update of this new liveblog here. Here, allow me to unveil the ever important matters for the story: the story itself and the main character.

It was a promising start, that’s for sure. I’m not completely hooked yet, but as I said before, Mr. Wildbow is a rather good writer. I think I could learn a thing or two from his style. I’m stopping here and I’ll continue next time.

Next update: in three updates

[davidaolson]

Awakened by a Demon

The demon screeched as if being tortured in the pits of hell where every last inch of its flesh was flayed and the writhing, skinless, oozing body was dipped in rock salt and set on a slow-burning flame.

“Uh-Ooooooo, Oh-Noooooo, Tu-Qoooooo, Fu-Quuuuu, Quuuu-Quu-uuu-uu-u”

It’s screeching shattered the still of the night. Not just once. Over and over for the better part of an hour. It screeched. Then the lull during which my heart settled and I felt sleep crawling from between the sheets, my eyes growing heavy. Until it screeched again. Four screams in a sequence with the last sputtering words decaying like a loosely mounted motor running out of gas forcing every cell in my body to high alert. Danger, Will Robison.

The beast had to be close. Beast? Or was it a ghost? A demon? A demon ghost hybrid. The locals are superstitious. Stories of ghosts and spirits are commonplace. Just tonight, I learned Auntie would not go to the upstairs floor in her own home. Her own home! A place she lived for decades because she believes it is haunted. Yet, it is ok for the maid and the grandkids to sleep up there. How much of the belief is based in fact? How much is fiction from a people steeped in superstition? I noticed I am fingering the smooth leather medicine bag I’ve worn around my neck since my encounter with Rattlesnake in New Mexico a couple of weeks earlier. I guess a Western education does not immunize one from a belief in amulets or the evil they keep at bay.

The noise seemed to be coming from just outside the sliding glass doors of my room in the Abuyog hotel. It may be a ventriloquist. The identified location a misdirection and it was nearer. Under the bed??? Did I remember to lock the window? “Fu-Quuuuu”. Is the demon studying me from behind a curtain of darkness? Behind the corner armoire? “Quuuu-Quu-uuu-uu-u.” Let’s rationalize. Maybe it’s a screaming cat. A cat in preheat sparring with an overzealous mate attempting to force a dry fuck, or a night bird trying to spook a twitchy nose rat into breaking cover and running, perhaps the Philippine version of a Screech Owl, the tufty eared, bug-eyed predator out for the nightly hunt. Screech Owl? Screeching Owl. Yes.

The noise tortures me. I am also tormented by claws scratching the floor in the room directly above me. Or, is in hiding between the ceiling and the floor? If it found a way to infiltrate the hotel, is my room safe? Is it rats? Is the Fu-Quuuuu demon inside the hotel trying to catch a rat? Does it have the flexibility to escape through a hole and emerge in my room? Is it a rat jousting with a slithering snake? Will the snake find refuge in the pipes and poke a triangular head out of the toilet bowl during my morning constitutional sinking teeth into my meaty, muscley ass or, shudder, ball sack? I better check the bowl then shit while hovering.

I cowered stock still sweating in the bed. My pillow is soaked through to both sides. My heart pounds. What time is it? I slowly looked at my phone. 3 am. 3 fucking am and I’m wide awake. 3 am. Much too early to chase a sunrise. And going outside in the dead of night could mean an encounter with the Fu-Quuuuu demon. Is it taking a clue from the owl playbook, trying to spook me from my safe sanctuary into vulnerable open space? I want to run. But, I imagine going up to the roof and facing Fu-Quuuuuu followed by my own fading Oh-Noooooo as it devours me, head first, or hexes my life ensuring I die tragically, or scares me so deeply my hair roots die and white strands sparsely cover my head. Irrational? Who’s to say what evil lurks in the heart of demons.

I lay unmoving for the next two hours too terrified to reach beyond the bed for the lamp for fear the demon is throwing its voice beyond the glass as it sits beneath my bed waiting to tear off any limb extending beyond the bed’s edge. Too frightened to reach over to my wife for comfort for fear the beast would hear me move and be triggered to attack the way running prey triggers a bear to give chase. I lay petrified waiting for the rising sun to send the safety of daylight.

“Did you hear the demon last night?” It wasn’t until the second morning hearing the awful screeching that I overcame my embarrassment and felt comfortable discussing the screaming, screeching demon.

“Demon?”

“Ya, that loud screaming.”

“Screaming? That was a tukó, one of our local geckos. The name is from the sound it makes. Tu-koooooo. Tu-koooooo.” It’s a cute lizard. Good luck in the home.

“I didn’t hear no Tu-koooooo. I heard “Uh-Ooooooo, Oh-Noooooo, Tu-Qoooooo, Fu-Quuuuu, Quuuu-Quu-uuu-uu-u.” My voice decayed quicker than tukó at the end of a chant. “Cough. Cough.” I look at her. No sympathy for my feigned cough. It’s no use. I know it. She knows it. There is no way for me to save face. I feel the fool for being distraught because the unfamiliar voice squawked by a little lizard frightened the hell out of me. And I am simultaneously excited knowing Rattlesnake may have been speaking capital ‘T’ Truth.

The Ambien Zombie

The waking up before the sun theme lasted the entire trip. Jet lag from jumping 13 time zones over 24 hours requires the better part of two weeks for me to fully adjust. We were only a few days into the trip. Once my body clock adjusts to local sun cycles, we head back to Chicago where I endure another two weeks of screwed up sleeping schedules. Plus I have a very difficult time sleeping in a sitting position. On long-haul flights, I use prescription Ambien to help me sleep and adjust to a new time zone.

I’ve head stories of Ambien zombies, perfectly nice people zombified by the drug especially when mixed with Alcohol. They babble incoherently, have even been known to strip naked and wall about the plane. All with no recollection when then come down.

Always, until this trip, I enjoyed my Ambien induced coma without incident waking refreshed on the flip side. Win-win. The episode between Chicago and Taiwan will keep me away from Ambien the rest of the trip and will probably be the last time I ever use the sleep aid. I became the dreaded Ambien Zombie.

I took two as soon as my luggage was stowed in the overhead before buckling into my middle seat, next to my aisle seated wife, for the 15-hour flight taking off at 12:30 am. Normally, I fly long haul alone. There have never been complaints so I assume my induced sleep is simply a deep, dreamless sleep. Not so this time where I experienced two vivid dreams.

The first was of me walking around the airplane in slow motion. In the dream, I was unable to pronounce Pinot Noir in a way the flight attendant understood. I rarely eat airplane food, aside from crackers and fruit cups, because the smell while still in the carts makes me nauseous. But, I ordered the beef dish. And I ordered a whiskey which I mixed with apple juice. The obnoxious concoction was promptly spilled mostly onto my wife’s tray overflowing into her lap. I looked at the mess and returned to eating with all the dexterity and urgency of a sloth. All this, I later learned from my irritated wife, actually happened but I was too stoned on the sleeping pill to realize it.

I now wonder if those previous trips were simply a relaxed deep sleep or I acted the fool. I’ve never been arrested or deboarded so I’m going to guess there were no exceedingly unseemly events.

The second dream was rather bizarre.

Tukó, the gecko lizard, and I are sitting face to face in chairs. This is a giant Tukó, big as a double homunculus human. It’s feet dangle above the floor, the fat tail wrapped around the chairback providing balance. Tukó has no butt so sitting is difficult. The pink tongue licks its eyes the way a dog tongues its snout clean after eating. The mouth opens, sound spill out, the mouth closes. The eyes look at me, expectantly. The mouth opens again, “Who-Ooooooo. Fu-Quuuuuu”

Language gap. Unlike my encounter with Rattlesnake who spoke in words I understood, there is a definite language gap with Tukó, a gap exacerbated by the human lizard culture gap.

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” I said wondering if the language barrier was two way.

Tukó reaches out a closed hand palm up, turns it over, unfurls the five thick fingers revealing a very small gecko. It couldn’t have been longer than one-inch nose to tail. He pumps his hand up and down motioning me to take it. I reach out and it crawls, without hesitation, into my hand. I can feel the stickiness of the toe pads. It’s a little like tearing apart velcro with every step.

“Emmm…” how to be culturally sensitive here? Is it simply a gift? Am I supposed to eat it? We are in Asia where feeding guests is standard hospitality and refusing to eat offered food an insult. I look at it again. Well, at least it isn’t balut. I hope I don’t gag. I force a smile,” Thank you”. And move it toward my mouth.

Tukó chatters frantically. “Nuh-Oooooo. Nuh-Ooooooo.”

I stop midway, mouth agape.

Tukó points to the side of its head. I am still very confused. “What? What do I do?”

Tukó deftly grabs the miniscule gecko from my hand and places it next to my head. It crawls into my ear canal. A shiver starts from my ear and runs all the way down to my toes. This is worse than one gulp needed to swallow it. I am scared. No. Terrified. I once saw a movie where a person was strapped to a table while a villain in a white lab coat looked on. The villain grabbed an earwig from a bucket of crawling earwigs using a longish pair of zircon encrusted tweezers and proceeded to stick the wiggling bug into the man’s ear. The man screamed in agony as the earwig slowly ate its way through his brain until it reached the center killing him. Was I about to begin a ghastly death?

“Can you understand me now, David? You should be able to.”

“I…I can understand you.” What the hell was going on?

“That is a Babel Gecko. It is similar to the Babel Fish. You do know what a Babel Fish is, David?”

“Yes, I do.” My pride swells. I read the six books in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy trilogy and knew the answer. “A babel fish is fictitious It’s small, yellow and leech-like. It crawls into the ear of a person suctioning onto the eardrum enabling the person to understand any language in the universe.”

“Close.”

“Close? I read all the books and saw the tv show. I know what a Babel Fish is.”

“It is not fictitious.” Tukó emphasized ‘fictitious’ by making air quotes with those fat finger hands. “It exists just not in our space-time continuum. Douggy Adams was taken up by aliens and moved between space-time streams. Eventually, the brought him back but failed to erase all the memories from his time away. Those books he wrote contained fractal representations of that time. Now, what you have in your ear is a Babel Gecko. It has the ability to translate all animal, tree, and rock people communication into your human language which is why you now understand me. It cannot translate human to human because the primitive human language causes the Babel Gecko to deteriorate from the inside out.”

“Primitive human language? Human language is the most sophisticated ever devised.”

“Typical human arrogance. It is not the most sophisticated on earth and considered white noise in other worlds. It’s why the beings on distant planets don’t bother responding to the signals and probes you send into deep space. You, humans, communicate only with sound with the exception of visual artists. Unless the artworks are straightforward, you misinterpret them as well. We animals have the ability to communicate with and without sound. We can communicate with color, physical motion, smell, telepathically and any combination. It is called ‘voice’ and is sophisticated beyond human comprehension while being transparently simple to all nonhumans. Babel Gecko translates all voice into approximations of human words. You may sense gaps, sometimes elongated, in the translation because the Babel Gecko must dumb it down for your comprehension.”

“Okayyy. There are insects and other lizards in this room. Why don’t I hear them?” I got him. There was no recovery from this argument.

Tukó chuckled. Paused. “The Babel Gecko knows. Humans like claiming they are good at multi-tasking. But it is impossible for the primitive human brain to focus on more than one task at a time. The Babel Gecko’s sophistication allows it to tune into the vibration of your thought waves then filter the many voices allowing only the one on which you are attempting to focus. This is why you don’t hear the mosquitoes discussing the sweetness of your wife’s blood they are sampling while she showers or the very large spider behind the shower room curtain singing a siren song to lure those same mosquitoes into its lethal web.”

“That sounds quite far-fetched.”

“Of course you would say that. Liars have a hard time believing the truth.”

“Liars?”

“Come now David, you are fully aware humans tell as many lies as they do truths. Even the quote-unquote truths tend to be embellished.”

I have to admit he is correct. I like to think I am truthful to a fault but know, in my heart, I am prone to embellishing my stories. Innocent enough but still, why not just relate facts?

“We in the animal world are incapable of telling lies. Our communication is always congruous. Our voice, true. The body, our colors, telepathy, and words are always in sync. Though, one should be extremely careful when communicating with a split tongue being such as Rattlesnake. With them, truth halves and they may allow one half only to slip off a tongue branch into the world. Half truths are deceptive. Lying by omission of the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me by one of the thousands of Gods, is still lying.”

Gecko stopped talking, stared up at the ceiling. Was it hungry? looking for bugs? Too much silence for my taste, a vacuum needing filling.

“Thank you for the gift of the Babel Gecko.”

“It’s NOT yours.” Heavy emphasis on the NOT. “It is a loan. It will crawl out and away before you leave the Philippines. It would be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Dangerous? You can trust me. I won’t let anything happen to it.”

“Fu-Quuuuuu!”

“Sorry, I didn’t understand you. I think the Babel Gecko is on the fritz.”

“It’s working just fine. And you heard me correctly. I said, ‘Fuck you!’ Your people have brought nothing but misery to this planet and my people ever since you left the trees in your hairy pre-hominid days and started building cities. You bred, still, breed like roaches, and continue spreading your pestilence! No offense to roaches. They are a hearty people. It’s simply a reality your mind can’t grasp.”

“Sorry?”

“Was that a question?” His color changed slightly. A red hue undertoned the skin. Can they color shift like chameleons? The gold eyes pulsed.

“Um, Sorry! I apologize for the human race.”

“It’s too late for apologies. The damage is done. We will all pay the price for your unchecked infestation. You humans most of all.”

“Really? What’s gonna happen?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, Yes I do. I have a right to know.”

“Rights is a human philosophical construct. There are no such thing as rights there only is existence. But, I will tell you. There’s nothing you can do to change the future. It will start when Big Ben strikes thirteen…” vrrrrt. vrrrrt. vrrrrt “…the blood moon will crumble…” vrrrrt. vrrrrt. vrrrrt.

vrrrrt. vrrrrt. vrrrrt. My vibrating watch alarm, set for the morning in Chicago, pulled me out of the Ambien slumber. I was still mired in a stupor, still mashed into the too small middle seat in the exit row, still on the plane heading to Taiwan. I dreamt it all.

An Expected Unexpected Trip

We weren’t supposed to be in the Philippines this year. Our trip to Southeast Asia was scheduled, tentatively scheduled, for 2019. January or February, opposite typhoon season, when the cold still strangled Chicago and the Philippines was a beacon of near perfect warmth. We planned to forego Belize where we had lizard basked in the sun for a week each of the previous two Winters and make our 3rd trip in 6 years to my wife’s homeland, her hometown. Her father was aging quickly. His health was not the greatest. Each of our last two visits we believed was the last to see him alive.

The dreaded call, came on a Friday a few days after we returned from New Mexico. Just as Rattlesnake foreshadowed. The following Friday, we were crammed into a plane for the 24 hour trip from Chicago to Manila this time via Taiwan. We overnighted in Manila then took an early flight to Tacloban City in Leyte. It was a short flight. Most flights between the islands in the archipelago are about an hour. We spent more time in lines and waiting in the terminal than airborne. Such is the curse of modern travel.

Our Manila hotel was an apartment. Inexpensive, great air conditioning which we desperately needed in a 90/90 country. The temps were 90+ Fahrenheit and the humidity was upward of 90% all day every day. Life in 90/90 means the sun feels heavy, a burden one must carry like an overloaded backpack even in the relatively cool shade. It was almost possible to extract a glass full of water with every few breaths. Sweat was my Eau de cologne. Not of choice but the natural order of life. The body must cool itself. The inexpensiveness of the apartment means one foregoes amenities like on-premise restaurants. The neighboring Marriott goes for $200 a night. For me, it’s a no-brainer tradeoff. Though, walking between our place and the restaurants in the pouring rain, Manila was in the middle of a typhoon, while sharing a single umbrella is a downer.

Our flight to Tacloban was in the early morning, too early to find a breakfast place. Plus we were reluctant to walk to the nearby hotels and be pelted by the typhoon drenching Manila and snarling traffic. The food at the domestic airport did not appeal to me. This all added up to being hungry upon arrival in Tacloban.

Stuffing My Face With Outdoor Chicken at Andoks

Our choice of eateries on the road to Abuyog is limited. There’s a McDonald’s or, on the opposite side of the street, Andok’s Chicken. Just the thought of McD’s makes my stomach cringe so, when asked, I requested Andok’s. I think it surprised our hosts. Andok’s is an open-air eating establishment with the food cooked on an outdoor spit behind a three-sided glass enclosure. It looks and smells succulent. We order, carry our chilled pop, without ice, to a clean table next to a table where a group recently vacated.

Our conversation is primarily in the local language, meaning I think it my own bubble. It is an existence with which I am more than content. I half listen to the ambient noise, sip my rapidly warming pop. Curse the ice made with unfiltered water. My inner life is active. I rarely grow bored. I am content to sit and think while they conversed. After all, they have a deep history and I don’t speak but a few words in their language. To expect them to accommodate my desires would be selfish. We achieved yin-yang balance.

I catch a whiff of a stench and look around to see if an open sewer is nearby. Nope. There’s a person at the adjacent table who I at first think is a worker cleaning up but noticed she’s eating the leftover food. Nibbling whatever morsel she can from the chicken bones, tilting the bottle to drain last drops of soda. When finished picking the plates clean, she walks toward us and reaches out for my half-empty water bottle. They told her no. I try an appear nonchalant.

Her face is oddly shaped. Is she mentally challenged? A mild Down’s Syndrome. There is a strangeness to her eyes. She walks behind me on her way beyond the restaurant boundary and I realize the malodor is not an open sewer. It is her. She never says a word at our table nor while she waits, like a feral dog outside the range of stick and stones, for opportunities to pick at leftovers. She took a position further from us than the strays sniffing the chicken laden air on the periphery. Is this how she is forced to survive. Does she view herself as lesser than dogs which is why she waits beyond them? Is she viewed by the locals as lesser than a dog? Does this society have more empathy for the canid than the hominid? I soon find out.

My companions drop back into their lingua franca freeing me to eat the delivered chicken and ruminate in the less visited antechambers hidden in my mind. I think back to the unplanned nature of this trip and its prognostication by Rattlesnake two weeks prior while we explored the wilds in Nueva México. A little Spanish thrown into the narrative. I’m not totally oblivious to other languages just lack fluency in any but English. Tubig means water in Tagalog and Salamat is thank you. Two words I need to get by in this country.

Rattlesnake told me. Is that the right phraseology? No. It is more apt to say Rattlesnake warned me that Tukó harnessed the temperament of a trickster with the ability to shapeshift. Trickster spirits take human form by day changing to animal form when Sun is replaced by Moon. He warned me, a preferred form for Tukó was that of an impoverished, mute woman. Is this woman a human being or a spirit being? Are her eyes a bit off or did the Rattlesnakes tales fill my head with imagined realities?

I try from a distance to see her eyes. Are the human round pupiled or vertical gecko pupiled. I cannot see clearly from where I sit. Would round pupils, tell me anything? If Trickster shapeshifts to a human, wouldn’t it also mimic the eye design? Perhaps the human form is a shell and a vertical pupil exists behind the round pupil. In the right light, would I be able to see the Trickster behind the translucent human-like eye?

I catch myself absentmindedly rubbing my medicine bag. Instinct once again overrides my Western University education predicated on logic. I doubt this would have been the case before I encountered the talking Spirit Rattlesnake and the Ancient One that set him free from the large stone. That singular event rocked my understanding of reality and now I am unsure where the division between real and imaginary exists. Or are they one and the same?

I look at her askance. Not wanting anyone to know I am staring but I need to know her nature. What is that movement? Did she just flick a pink tongue over her eyes?

Our stomachs full, my companions start tossing chicken bones to a yellow furred mongrel. It’s a stray. Heavy teated. Dirty. Patchy fur from fighting other curs. It inches closer, warily, until it is next to our table. Hunger trumps fear. Western dogs who are rarely given chicken bones. One because in America dogs are on par with humans. And because of the belief, their digestive system is too sensitive for the tiny spears. They give all the chicken leftovers to the dog. The dog eats. The hungry woman looks on. They pet the dog, a few affectionate pats on the head. They tell her she’s a pretty dog. Eventually, they give the woman a chunk of pork. No kind words. No affectionate touch. They don’t tell her she is pretty.

Is giving her food kindness? I don’t see it that way. We give of our excess. Our trash. A mouthful she would have helped herself to after we left. It seems to me more a guilt offering. But this is my perspective, the view of an outsider out of tune with the spoken language and the cultural context. My conscience is not assuaged.

I ate too much and I struggle with churning guilt grinding at my insides. I try to rationalize my lack of action as not wanting to throw a stone in the culture pool and start unexpected ripples that might upset the natural order. But it is simply a rationalization, a lie told to the self.

Truth is, I am wretched. Not the poor woman with little access to food. Me the overweight, self-centered glutton who ate my fill, more than my fill until I was sluggish, without thinking of her hunger. Ate until I was stuffed beyond need. As I think this, I looked sheepishly at her one more time with my eyes hidden behind my dark sunglasses. I swear her eyes flash gold for the time it takes to snap my fingers, flash gold with a vertical slit and the hint of an almost smile.

There is still an hour’s drive to our hotel. An hour where I am reminded of my wretchedness with every home we pass cobbled together using uneven wooden planks leaving open seams in the walls, and discarded sheet metal roofs creating oven temperatures in direct sunlight, homes without running water or electricity, homes without screens to keep the mosquitoes at bay.

I had forgotten the extent of the poverty in the country, forgotten the face of a similar poverty I saw every day in India and vowed never to ignore. Forgotten how blessed I am to have access to quality medical care, two cars in the family, a home with climate control, the means to travel eight thousand miles and stay in a comfortable hotel with a roof from which to enjoy the sun climbing spectacularly orange over an ocean horizon. And, always, the promise of a warm meal greeting our every arrival at Auntie’s home.

Auntie’s House

It is customary in the Philippines for a family member to host the deceased for the nine days preceding the funeral including the feed those coming to pay their respects. On day ten, the funeral is held. There are additional ceremonies at prescribed intervals following the entombment with the last at the one year anniversary.

Aunties home became the makeshift funeral parlor with the casket prominently displayed in the family room, the first sight when entering the front door. On the trip over, I wondered how people tolerated the stink of the slowly decaying body. It turns out, in this case at least for they do not live below the poverty line, the casket was top tier including a clear, glass covering. Hermetically sealed. Any odor would be confined.

We arrive on day 7 and visit daily until the funeral which ended up being delayed until day 10 for want of an available officiate. Each time we enter food is offered within a few minutes. In the Philippines, serving food is equivalent to saying, “I love you.”

I love chicken adobo and pancit. Have grown accustomed to heaping bowls of rice. But not so much the bony fish, too much work to separate the flesh from the sharp bones. Nor am I a fan of dinuguan. Pig’s blood adds a strong iron taste to the soup. By the third day, my palate craves variety. Our farm visit added a touch of variety. Virgin coconuts freshly felled from the trees with a machete have the sweetest milk. Locally grown greens added to a soup of freshly killed chicken, head included. It is a self-supporting chicken so the meat is on the chewy side. Of course, heaps of steaming rice, for a meal minus rice is only a snack.

The trip to the farm is different than past adventures. The ferry was bypassed by a bridge. It’s not strong enough to support a car so we walk across and board a motorput for the final distance to the farm. It terrifies one of the aunties so she opts for the ferry on the way back. It is dubbed the dancing bridge for it sways while we walk across.

Aside from one fast food place, there are no restaurants in town, none with hygiene necessary to sensitive Western stomachs. The last thing I want is Montezuma to seek revenge while I’m in the Philippines. On our final full day in Abuyog, Cousin remembers a new Italian restaurant owned/operated by a real Italian at the far north end of the city outside the town proper. I am skeptical. Authentic Italian food in the middle of a small town? How is possible? We eat there for lunch. Stay to swim and eat dinner as well. It is heavenly. And we finally have wine to accompany our dinner. There are no liquor stores in Abuyog, my wife tells me. No place to buy wine. We find the last day she is wrong. There is a liquor store a very short walk from our hotel. We leave tomorrow. No time for a bottle of red or a chilled white.

Daily temps are 90/90. Yet the homes have no air conditioning not even the nicer ones like Auntie’s or Cousins. I mostly visit after sundown to avoid the heaviest heat. As soon as I enter, someone adjusts both oscillating fans to ensure I was in their path and had a smidge of relief from the heat. Still, after about an hour, I am sweat soaked and head back to the hotel to bask, sometimes naked, in the air conditioning, temperature set on stun.

Some of the visitors we encounter are comfortable enough with English to greet me and ask if I am hungry. Hungry or not, food is still served. They can speak quite a bit more but are embarrassed to speak the language with someone who is fluent. The fear of making mistakes and possibly looking foolish is strong. I speak no Waray, the local dialect, so welcome any attempt at English. I do not push the issue. It is my preference they enjoyed the company of my wife. These are her people and holes are rent in the fabric of their family during her absence. Our visits are a time they all participate in mending the holes, a tribe working together to sew up the holes in the fishing net. I enjoy watching her. She becomes highly animated when conversing in her native dialect. I sit and watch from my familiar bubble.

For most of my life, I have felt an outsider, apart from the group, isolated. No matter how hard I tried to fit in, I was (am) the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit. I have come to accept isolation is endemic to my DNA and I have learned to thrive in solitude. So much so, it has gradually become my preferred mode of being. I inhabit a bubble. Bubble boy.

The isolation becomes a shroud when visiting a land where my language is an afterthought or a nonthought. Non-language can be a wall. A wall of our own making when we chose to remain monolingual.

Unless one has extensive practice existing in isolation, whether by choice to remain apart from people or one is forced into it by dint of not speaking a common tongue, it can be a terrifying space. The sharing of even a few phrases gives hope, creates connection.

Many, probably most, of the native-born US citizenry speaks English only. Bilingualism, sadly, is an anomaly, a logical outcome of communal arrogance. “If you don’t speak Amurican you ain’t worth talking at“. It sucks that multilingualism is viewed as an unnecessary expense by most school boards in the United States. Worse, speaking any language other than English is increasingly, thanks to the orange buffoon, viewed as unAmerican, unpatriotic. If he truly wants to make America great, he should emphasize multilingualism in the schools verbal as well as speaking the languages of the arts.

For the ‘Build the Wall’ types, being in the midst of people who speak a language in addition to English, or worse, only English is uncomfortable exacerbating their fearfulness. They would rather isolate themselves with a border wall than face their fear. Build an isolating wall because of a fear of being isolated. Oh, the irony.

The proposed border wall between Mexico and the United States is a concept buttressed by fear, a foolish attempt to medicate anxiety. Like the antidepressant Prozac, it creates the illusion the situation is different. Perception is more important than reality.

Me, I am thankful for the multilingual. They can help build a bridge between us.

On our previous visit to the Philippines, I learned the concept of beer English. We were at the beach celebrating our marriage with lots of fresh food and buckets of beer. For the most part, I watched the waves kicking up against the shore and the fishermen in their small boats pulling in nets. Once in a while, there would be a word I understood in their language pulling me into their reality before I returned to watching. From a raging sea of Waray, an English speaking fish breached the water, hung in the air. A cousin started speaking to me in English. I was incredulous.

“You’re speaking English?”

“It’s beer English. We only speak English after drinking five beers.” Everyone laughed. And I was included in parts of the conversation until the beer was gone and we parted for our own homes.

There does not seem to be a drinking culture at wakes in the Philippines. Consequently, there was no beer English, very little conversation drawing me in. My ears do prick up when I catch one of the few Waray words I understand. Salamat for thank you. Tubig for water. O-O for yes. Mostly, at Aunties, I retreat to the sanctity of my bubble from which I people watch.

The Honking Huge Spider

I was in my sanctum one evening when I saw the short, jerky movement of a black object overhead. The homes, the ones I have visited, have no screens. Geckos and insects are regular visitors. In the ceiling line, where the ceiling meets the wall, a massive spider. I am not one to shy away from the creepies or the crawlies but this monster caused chills to shoot down my spine and escape through my toes where they hid in the shadows of a bookcase.

The spider is a good 5 inches in diameter with a body big enough to kidnap and drain the blood from a small child in one slurp. Not wanting to interrupt my wife’s animated conversation and appear to be a fraidy cat in front of her family, I stared at her hoping she would feel the intensity of my gaze and look my way so I could lip point, Philippino style, at the gruesome beast. No luck.

I sent mojo vibes through the air figuring the dense humidity would easily carry the signals drop to drop between us and tweak her subconscious. Again no luck. I became increasingly agitated. Should I shout a warning and save everyone’s lives? Or would my alarm raise twitters at the city boys irrational fear of something that amounted to a child’s pet?

I hold my tongue. Chilled fear sweat added to and mixed with my heat sweat. I am both hot and cold.

A gecko darts across the ceiling in the direction of Mr. Monster Spider. It is the biggest I have seen on the trip. Six inches long with a thick body and tail. Was this the Spirit Tukó come to save me?

As gecko draws near to the spider, it scurries until it is directly over my head. The movement is blindingly fast. If the spider decided to attack, could I beat it in a foot race? I am wearing my ultralight Ferrell tennis shoes but don’t know if my old knees can sustain a pace for the duration necessary to be further from the spider than one of the other guests. I didn’t need to be faster than spider just faster than the slowest person to put a victim between me and the monster. Of course, it could just let loose and fall from the ceiling onto my head the moment I look away and siphon all my brain juice.

Gecko appears not to notice Spider. Rather than witness a lizard arachnid skirmish, I watch Gecko descended the wall and take refuge behind a framed picture. Is it, too, afraid of the spider or simply returning to digest a stomach full of insects in a safe space?

Either way, I feel safer with the sentinel Gecko, a natural predator, close by. My protector. My savior. I have long been a fan of geckos. Correction. I love geckos. I wish there were a dozen or so roaming the walls and ceilings in our Chicago home. Wild geckos. Free-range geckos. Not the inmates transferred from animal prisons (aka pet stores) only to be locked in another glass cage inside a home.

A human can’t be human confined to 6′ x 8′ prison cell and still be a human nor can a gecko be a gecko when confined to a small enclosure. The US government confined the American Indians to reservations knowing full well it would crush their souls beyond repair and domesticate the ‘savages’. I don’t want a tamed gecko. It would lose gecko essence. They are harbingers of good luck. If the essence is gone so is the luck. Or, the luck may go negative and bring bad tidings upon the household.

Geckos feast on the crawlies invading the home. And they whisper dreams into your ears during slumber. I could use some vivid dreams. One can never have too many geckos gracing the palace. The praying mantis also eats insects so is beneficial but they don’t dispense dreams. Alas, Chicago has bitter Winters meaning no insect food to sustain geckos. Geckos starve. More bad luck. Geckos are another good reason for me to move to the Desert Southwest. I wonder, is Gecko of my totem?

On our last trip, we were island hopping near Puerto Princessa. I paid a few Philippine pisos for a temporary gecko tattoo over my left shoulder. Since then, I have contemplated a tattoo of Delicate Arch topped by a gecko against a sunset. Almost like it was riding the Arch into the sunset cowboy style. It would make for a great back piece. A symbol of my favorite land, a spirit animal. And if the ink could be made of finely ground red rock dust, it would have in my body the actual where I wish to rest forever. Now, if only there was a way to get inked without needles.

Finally, Irene looks my way. I lip point upward toward the spider careful not to make eye contact and force it into a defensive posture from which attack would be imminent. I do not want the beast finding a path into my head to play mind games.

“What?” she said.

“There’s a spider,” I whisper not wanting to be too obvious.

“What spider? Where?”

“It is above my head.” Emphasis on every syllable. I look up. It’s gone. Disappeared.

“I swear. There was a huge spider,” I show her the size with my hands. “The mother of all spiders. A baby eater for sure!”

She gives me her half twisted smile. The one when she considers my actions foolish, my words moronic, or general idiocy on my part. She returns to her conversation. I feel humiliated. I also grow increasingly agitated. I cannot shake the feeling it is lurking in the shadows studying me with those 12 beady eyes waiting for an opening to pounce and sink those nasty fangs into my delicately soft alabaster neck.

I give a few exaggerated yawns arm stretch overhead but not too high to put them in harm’s way. My wife catches my drift and arranges for a motorput to take me to the hotel though I would prefer to walk. She doesn’t feel it’s safe for a foreigner to walk the streets alone after dark. I stayed safely locked in our airconditioned room until the funeral on the morrow.

Funeral

We hop into a motorput magically appearing right outside our hotel dressed in our blacks and/or whites, the preferred funeral colors but no reds. The motorput is a motorcycle with an attached side cage for passengers. The vehicle is not made for people of my height and girth. I shoehorn myself into the vehicle and endure the short, uncomfortable ride to Aunties. Thankfully, Irene is tiny so we are able to sit side by side. It is early morning and already the heat is surging. The hearse is late, as expected, so we linger in the room with the casket. I check overhead for the massive spider. Nothing. There is no way I am going to sit on the couch for fear it may be hiding between it and the wall. I stand. Watch warily. And exit the house right behind the casket. We are first and second-row mourners walking behind the hearse to the church.

The slow procession begins in full exposure to the sun. I have neither hat nor umbrella to stave the biting light rays boring through my flesh and into my body with the ferocity of a radioactive maggot in rotting meat. I boil from the inside out until sweat seeps from every pore and drops down the crack of my ass, swass. Sweat is the equivalent of body tears. We have only walked two blocks and there is close to a mile remaining. I rejoice inside when we turn from Auntie’s lane onto the thoroughfare to the Church and see trees lining the East side of the street. I strategically slide right and drink in the cooling shade.

A few trees ahead, there is a rustling of leaves. Green ballerinas? There is no breeze. There is, though, a small animal in the branches probably a bird, the monster spider hunting…me, maybe a lizard. We saw large iguanas in the Belizean trees. Would I be lucky here as well and see an interesting lizard or maybe a monkey?

My head cocks upward. I tried to be discreet. But it has to be obvious to the few without tear-soaked eyes. When beneath the fluttering leaves, my head is angled almost straight up, sweat trickles into my eyes. I reach to wipe away the sweat and feel something fall into my mouth. It sticks to my lips for an instant then slips inside. It is no bigger than the broken tip of a toothpick but soft with a slight wiggle. Wiggle?

I don’t want to gag and hack it up causing a scene amidst everyone’s sorrow so fish it with my tongue until it is between my front teeth and I can discreetly grab it. It is soft, pliant, dark with the texture of a lizards tail. A yellowish, juicy substance oozes from the broken end. Lizard blood. My lips tingle. Probably an emotional reaction to chewing lizard tail. It needed some chili peppers.

The Church

We enter the church. The delicious air is a good ten degrees cooler. The wonders of shade and fans to agitate the air. The upper row stained glass windows are open to the outside, to the elements. A few stained glass windows have holes. Vandals chucking rocks? The Doors and side windows are wide open, no screens, allowing nature free passage and a place at the foot of the Lord. Appropriate that the created has a place at the table of the creator. Birds flitted inside the church.

The second thing I notice is White Jesus. This is one of my pet peeves. It is bad enough swarthy people around the world apply caustic chemicals to lighten their skin to attain a twisted ideal of beauty. The Catholic church perpetuates the idea their God-Man was a slender white guy with light hair when they know full well Jesus was a Middle Eastern carpenter who was most likely brown and muscular. Better to show simply the cross as do the Protestant churches than further ingrain the twisted white is right agenda. It really is a disgusting practice.

By the time we reach the front and sit in the first pew nearest the casket, the immediate family pew where I feel completely out of place considering the deceased’s siblings sit further back, the slight tingle has crawled over my lips, slowly spreading until my lips and tongue are numb. What the fuck is going on? The numbness spreads up my cheeks, over my forehead, into my hair then rushed down to my waist. I can still feel my eyebrows and my legs still move. My eyes, too, retain the ability to bounce around their sockets. I can just move my head a few centimeters. The colors grow vivid as if the vibrance slider in Photoshop is pushed to the maximum. Acid trip?

I try to get my wife’s attention. I can’t speak. Can’t move my arms. She is lost in sorrow. We do not connect. The priest enters. The congregation rises. I stand out of instinct? More likely the almost 20 years of attending Catholic Mass imprinted the ritual into my DNA. I will never be free despite being nonCatholic for almost three times the years I spent in Catholic schools. The priest motions us to sit. And we all, in unison, drop to the seated position. Soon would come standing and kneeling and sitting and more standing and more kneeling. Catholic yoga

Sweat rolls down my face burning my eyes. I can not wipe it away. Frantic, I side glanced at my wife again hoping to attract her attention. She is still lost in grief. I am stuck on an island. Bubble boy is isolated. Bubble boy is not enjoying this isolation.

The priest raises his hands heavenward and opens his mouth to pray. Instead of words, sparrows fly out, small brown sparrows emerge from his mouth. Chubby seedeaters. They clumsily fly about until finding purchase on the walls, behind the lights where they cast eerie shadows, perched on the cross where they chirp, chirp, chirp. The longer the priest drones on, the more sparrows rush forth. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Until the altar is coated with brown birds. The mass of birds actually more beautiful than the gilded altar. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Not a pretty song in the bunch though. Chirpy chirp. The language of the birds a fitting eulogy especially since I exist outside the language of the priest and congregation. I would later learn the priest spoke monotone with a message clearly showing he had no personal, first-hand knowledge of the deceased. He was not nearly as coherent or interesting as the chirping sparrows.

At the consecration of the elements when Catholic lore says the wine and host transubstantiate into the blood and body of Christ, swallows explode from the wounds of Christ, streaming out of the hands, feet, and sword pierced side where once flowed blood and water. A steady flow of dark blue tuxedo dressed birds with elegantly curved wings. Each leaves an arced, blood red vapor trail that is pierced by a following bird and shatters into thousands of particles until a red mist hangs in the air like a dense morning fog hovering over a lake obscuring my vision.

The swallows twist and turn in the air with more grace than a prima ballerina in a Bolshoi Ballet. Their elegant flight poetic, poetry, the highest language, on the wing. They fly in and out of the windows seemingly gaining speed with every flap of their delightful wings. They fly under and over the casket while the priest speaks the eulogy.

I prefer the bird eulogy. I cannot understand the priest. I can understand the birds. They are honoring the deceased with an aerial ballet. They fly until their deep blue feathers are pushed from their bodies falling quill first into the ground like a thousand arrows shot into the sky descending in a veil. The blue feathers are replaced by virginal white feathers. Blue tuxedo swapped for a pearlescent tuxedo. What a tribute!

I want nature to be my eulogist, too. Yes, I do mull over the format of my wake and funeral. I’m creating a playlist of favorite songs for the occasion. It will be my last party and I want it done my way. Actually, I prefer my grandson to speak my eulogy since he is the only living being still viewing me from behind rose-tinted glasses through which I appear infallible or pretty close to infallible. He won’t have to lie to the congregants and say what a great guy I was. When he says it, he will believe it. It will be his truth even if it’s contrary to everyone else’s truth.

He would lead the burial procession, my final walk to my holiest of holies, the remote Red Rock Utah desert. I would love to rest atop Delicate Arch but I’m afraid the National Park Service would object, vehemently. Bones kicked by vultures and falling from the sky might cause injury followed by the inevitable lawsuit.

The procession would include a gaggle of geckos including at least one tukó since it’s voice sounds both cheerful and a lament. Its song will touch the hearts bidding me good riddance and those who weep in sadness.

I would like a chorus of birds in the background, the same cacophony the rises Sun in the morning, a chime of Canyon Wrens sitting first chair trilling the most beautiful birdsong ever to delight my ears. Their descending trills a metaphor for the winding down of my life. Somewhere in the procession, a single mythical rattlesnake to guard my corpse against rodents until one of the last California Condors rips open my chest and sticks that nasty pink head between my ribs and eats my heart. And we rise to the heavens on spectacular black/white, yin/yang wings as wide as the sky itself.

Since Delicate Arch won’t be available, my corpse it to be strategically placed beneath a gnarled juniper. A touch of shade to guard against sunburn. Face me West so my milky eyes can enjoy every sunset until they are plucked out by Raven and gifted to a blind coyote so it can see the world in vivid color and rejoice, as I did, with sunrises and sunsets. I can envisage it stopping mid-hunt, mid-chew on a kangaroo rat and watching, mouth agape as the apricot rays fade to tangerine. Maybe the not quite dead rat will escape while Coyote is mesmerized.

The priest descends down from the pulpit. Shakes the aspergillum at the casket anointing with holy water. The now white swallows start flying in tight counterclockwise formation layer upon layer from floor to ceiling creating a whirlwind, a translucent, blood red whirlwind. I feel myself leave my body and float into the air. The hulk remains seated. I see my shadow. Dainty long wings. A swallow. I am a swallow and I can fly. I am lithe. I am agile. I am Bird.

I join the flock flying round and round at dizzying speeds maintaining a fine balance between centripetal sucking us into the middle force and centrifugal thrusting toward the wall force. The blood red contrails continue to slide into the whirlwind forming a funnel cloud. The tip dancing on top of the casket, tap dancing on the glass until a hole is bored right through. The glass shatters it into a thousand knife edged splinters slicing the air into ribbons. They, too, join the funnel and shoot up into the ceiling digging and twisting, carving a hole in the dark wood.

The soul, white as daylight, cleansed of sin, purged of impurity pulls away from the body into the calm at the center of the vortex where it hovers with face turned upward, arms reaching heavenward. We all, birds, soul, red whispering smoke slowly begin to ascend. Once through the bored hole in the roof, our speed increases both circular and upward. The more rapidly we fly the quicker we ascend, ascend through the damp clouds, through the cerulean sky, into space and still we ascend. We are headed toward a dot radiating white light, whiter than starlight. Is it a distant sun? My head tingles.

When I was in High School, I saw Supertramp live in 1979. It was my first concert. I was dressed in my coolest Rock and Roll denim vest, elephant flare bluejeans with side stitching, over a pair of Midwestern style cowboy boots. They were tawny with a squarish toe. None of that roach killer pointy toe shit the cow fuckers wear in Texas. I was probably wearing a $5 bootleg concert shirt purchased near the carpark. A friend drove freeing me to indulge in mind-opening substances. Our seats were 20th row almost dead center. We didn’t sit. Everyone stood on the folding metal chairs straining for the best sight line.

Late in the concert, the band jammed an extended version of the song Rudy including a synchronized video running on a big screen behind the band. The lyrics talk about Rudy riding a train to nowhere. The sound of a train chugging along. Subtle at first. The tempo of the song increased so did the locomotive until it was flying down the tracks at high speed. The screen image changed to black with a pinhole of white dead center. We were in a long, pitch dark tunnel except for the tiny dot on the horizon. The locomotive chug, chug, chugged. The song tempo increased. The dot grew bigger. Faster, faster until we exited the tunnel and were blasted by a full white screen. And I experienced the biggest head rush known to man with a force that knocked me off my feet and onto my ass in the seat of the chair.

This is how the ascension to the white light high in the sky felt. A slowly growing headrush. Our speed increases. The light comes closer, grows bigger, increases intensity. My eyes water against the speed we were moving and the friggin’ brightness of the immaculate light. I close my eyes tight to prevent my pupils from melting.

A voice at once feminine and masculine, gentle and kind spoke, “Welcome, my faithful servant.”

I feel a warmth from the pit of my stomach radiate outward, engulf me like I am swaddled in a blanket just out of the dryer and still hot. I force my eyes open. The light is still bright but I can make out a silhouetted figure between the machine gun eyelid blinks. Arms reach out from behind the light veil. My name is called. “David…David…” I am about to come face to face with God. “David…David…” I reach my wings toward the figure and feel a sharp pain in my side. “David…David…” distinctly feminine now.

“I am coming, Lord!” Again the sharp pain. I must be flying too fast or the thin air is making it hard to breathe.”

“David…” feminine and familiar?

“David, it’s picture time.”

“Pictures?” I open my eyes. I am still seated in the pew next to my wife. Her elbow caused the pain in my side. I can move again.

“Yes. I need you to take pictures of us around the casket. You will be in some, too.” There is a Philipino tradition of taking pictures of the family members standing around the casket. It dawned on me, during the days of the wake, people were taking selfies of themselves and the deceased in the casket. It felt almost morbid to my Western sense of decorum. But, it was a different culture and, as Pope Francis said, who am I to judge.

The remainder of the ritual was to walk behind the hearse to the above ground, vault cemetery. Most, including me, rode in cars to avoid the growing heat. At the cemetery, the casket was inserted into the concrete vault. This one was on the 2nd tier of three tiers. Many prayers were said. Rosaries swayed with the people’s emotion. I held an umbrella over my wife and myself so we wouldn’t collapse in the feverish weather. More prayers recited, ritualistic incantations spoken without thought as to their meaning.

The vault was sealed with cement while we watched then we walked back to the cars. Except for Tío Pat who hung around until the cement had dried and a name with date scraped prominently in the rough surface. A formal seal. Every tomb had the combination. I guess there are problems with people stealing from the graves and he wanted to make sure there was no funny business before the cement set solid. We returned to Auntie’s for another meal. While eating, I kept a wary eye out for the baby eating spider.

The next two days we spent at a mini resort in Tacloban where I did pretty much nothing except chill in the shade and write and drink and eat not Philippino food. Then it was an overnighter in Manila followed by a planned two and a half days at Busuanga Island Paradise in Coron, assuming the planes jumped on time.

Busuanga Island Paradise Resort

It was while checking in at Busuanga Island Paradise resort that I finally set eyes on a Tukó. Irene was completing the paperwork when a loud Tu-Koooooo sounded. Jenny, the manager, saw me searching the ceiling. She was tall for a Filipina, wore a baseball hat with the pony pulled through the back. Her face hinted at underlying features not quite Asian. I would learn later her father was an American. An Assistant Manager name tag was pinned to a white Busuanga polo. She wore knee-high water boots. It had rained every day for the past 21 days and was raining now. “Do you want to see the Tukó?”

“Yes,” I blurted excitement peaking on the inside.

She pulled a large picture frame part way from the wall. I peeked behind. Too much shadow. Easily remedied by the flashlight app from my iPhone. The bright white light helped me to see but it was still difficult to get a clear view even with my head pressed against the wall. Only one eye could see the lizard hiding high. My blue eye stared into vertical slit yellow eyes, very like Rattlesnakes. Cousins? It looked to be about 8 inches in total length including the deformed tail. Had it escaped the jaws of a predator?

“He’s a little one,” Jenny said. “There are lots of tukós here. Yesterday, I saw one twice the size at the pavilion.” Lot’s of tukós? Tukó promised land? Would I finally meet the spirit Tukó? There were only a few days left on our trip. Was I getting close?

The second evening, I am sitting in the outdoor pavilion in cross section with both fans enjoying the sounds of the jungle evening, switching between writing of my travels and reading poetry by Filipino author Nick Carbó. Half the books I read are translations by authors from the other countries. When visiting or planning to visit a country, I read at least one book from a local author with the aim to absorb a few cultural nuances. Obviously, the books have to be translated into English which limits the selection. And the profit motive further reduces the available topics to those appealing to English readers. Imperfect. But better than self-imposed isolation.

Anyway, I am switching between reading and recording our Philippine adventures in my travel notebook. Unlined, of course. Lined paper constricts writing to linear thinking. I like to think in other word flowing possibilities. A lovely tree frog hopping on the ground catches my attention. It is the color of brown, chlorophyll deprived leaves, dead leaves fallen from mother tree after their season turned. The legs are chicken thin, comical. Black eyes bulged from the head. I was tempted to catch it for closer scrutiny. But my words were flowing and I prefer to not interrupt flow.

I turn back to the table to grab my water bottle and am greeted by a very large tukó. It had to be at least 12 inches from toe to the tip of a very fat tail. Startled, I pulled my hand back. It didn’t move. There is no sign of fear in its eyes or body language. It stared. I stared back. There’s a glint in Tukó’s eye. There is very little ambient light so the glint must be emanating from an internal spark. I look deeper into the eyes through the vertical slit, beyond the gold flecks, and see the formation of the universe outside of time. The gold flecks are released by the explosion creating Earth. There were Canyons. Slot Canyon. A black Sphere.

A pink, almost human pink tongue, licks one eye then the other. Most geckos don’t have eyelids and are not able to blink. Like snakes, their eyeballs are covered with spectacles—transparent scales that protect them. Without moisture, gecko eyes can become dry like stone baked in a noonday sun. Swipes of the tongue keep them moist and clean, windshield wipers replacing instead of removing moisture. I sense a thought in my head. The thought feels like, “Dyu got sum ting para moi?” This could just be my mind playing tricks on itself. Then again, there is the distinct possibility this is the Spirit Tukó.

I reached into my shirt and pulled out the medicine bag. It was damp. Shit! We were snorkeling all day. The medicine bag was beneath my rash guard. I forgot to take it off. I open it up and pulled out the creamy flower. There is no movement inside the petals. Most likely worm is dead. Desert creatures and salt water are incompatible. Maybe, Tukó will still accept the offering.

I unfold the flower and lay it on the table exposing the worm. Tukó’s head bounces up and down in excitement. It licks both eyes double four time. It looks at me and back at the flower. Then it looks back and forth between the soy sauce bottle and the worm. I could have sworn Tukó did the Filipino lip point at the soy sauce bottle then again at the motionless worm.

Soy sauce is the number one condiment in this country, a land devoid of spicy foods. I have heard tell of a region enjoying fiery peppers but we have not set foot on that island. I planned to pack chili powder to add some pizazz but, in my haste, completely forgot. I was forced to suffer under the other two primary spices, salt and pepper. I grab the bottle and place a drop in the worm.

“Mu-Orrrrrr. Mu-Orrrrrrr.” Tukó bounces it’s head up and down. I sprinkle a few more drops on the worm. “Mu-Orrrrrr! Mu-Orrrrrrr! Mu-Orrrrrr! Mu-Orrrrrrr!” Tukó happy dances with every additional sprinkle.

“Okay”, I douse the worm until it is floating in a brown pool of the salty liquid.

Tukó, deftly and with lightning reflexes, grabs the worm. Chews once, twice then swallows. “Yu-Ummmmmm.” Wipes its mouth on the creamy flower leaving a brown stain looking like shit on toilet paper. “Yu-Um…” The second Yum is cut short. A look of disappointment clouds Tukó’s face followed by angry utterances. “De-Edddddd. No-Stooooryyy. No-Stooooryyy. De-Edddddd Fu-Quuuuuu! Bu-byyyyyy!” Tukó turns and waddled off. The body undulating like Snake but suspended on the four legs. It would have been comical were I not stunned and devasted it was leaving without informing me of my purpose. I feel tears well in my soul.

“Wait! I’m sorry. Worm’s death was an accident. I checked yesterday and it was still alive. It was an accident.” I brought it 8000 miles. Snuck it through customs carefully avoiding the sniffer dogs. “Don’t leave. I need to know. Rattlesnake told me you knew my purpose… don’t… don’t go.”

Tukó takes no heed. There is no indication it heard my words. If anything it speeds up. It waddles to the wall, climbs vertical with as much ease as I walk on flat, paved sidewalks, and disappears into the rafters.

Failure! All that effort getting Worm to the Philippines. Finally, meeting up with Tukó. What now? What now? I was on the edge of learning my purpose twice. One ended with a dream sequence conversation with Spirit Rattlesnake. This, the seconded, ended because a worm died. I was so close. It was a nightmare. Nightmare? Dream? Dream! And then it dawns on me…

I run into the night jungle, fall on my hands and knees at the base of a tree, and feel around for some soft loam. Mosquitoes buzz me. I dig with bare hands sifting the dirt through my fingers searching. One crawly. Too big. Mosquitoes ravage me. Poke and prod. I feel fleshy wigglers. Sweat burns my eyes. Mosquitoes pierce me. I pull out my phone, flick the light on. There. There. Gold. Grubs. Five grubs. I pick up two and tuck them into my medicine bag, hold two more in my hand.

I run out of the jungle. Grab my books and continue running into our room. I hadn’t run with such urgency in years. I grab the door with the muddy hand. The handle slips. I brush the mud off on my shorts, was able to turn the handle, and open the door. The room is still chilly. Amazingly chilly. So chilly, the cold-bloods would be sluggish.

I rush to the window. The mini gecko still clings to the diaphanous curtain. I grab the first grub between two fingers and held it out to the gecko. I move it slowly closer despite my rampaging heart and shaking hand. The gecko sniffs, licks with the pink moist tongue, then grabs the grub and gulps it down in one swallow. How I don’t know because the grub was almost half the length of the gecko. I show the second grub to the gecko and make sure it saw me stuff it into my ear.

“What on earth are you doing? Did you just put something in your ear?” Her toothbrush is still in her mouth.

I had forgotten my wife was in the room. I wave her down and shush her. “I’ll explain later.” I lean in close to the mini lizard. Hoping. Hoping. I feel the grub wiggling in my ear and have to fight the urge to pull it out. My hoping was rewarded by hopping. The gecko leaped from the curtain onto my ear then crawled into the ear canal. Where it, thankfully, gobbles up the grub.

“Yu-Ummmmmm.” I heard it say. “Thank-Youuuuu. I was so hungrrrrryyyy. Tired. Sleep now. Talk on the ‘morrow.” I could feel it circling like a dog then curling up and settling down in the warmth of my inner ear. It is pressed against my eardrum. At first, all sound was muffled. In a few moments, clarity returns. No. Clarity is enhanced. I can feel-hear its rhythmic breathing.

I am now equipped with a living translator, a Babel Gecko. Mission to speak with Spirit Tukó step one accomplished. Tomorrow I will seek the Spirit Being and attempt to convince he/she/it/they to continue our conversation. Until then, I have some mansplaining to do or I might be sleeping on the floor.

There’s Got To Be A Morning After

I wake the next morning from a dreamless sleep, a sleep restful from eyes closed to eyes fluttering open. Not once did I stir awake the usual 2, 3, 4 times every night. I must not have snored for my wife did not nudge me awake during the night and tell me to go back to sleep. Or, I was so exhausted I was oblivious.

Is this attributable to the Babel Gecko silencing my voices? Or a long day island hopping to white sand beaches, swimming in warm crystalline waters, and snorkeling near reefs teeming with fish?

I slept for seven blissful hours and awoke percolating energy. I can feel Babel Gecko as a slight pressure in my ear canal. But, there is no movement. A small gecko barks by the mirror. It is amazing the volume coming from such small creatures. Just gecko speak. No translation. Babel Gecko must still be sleeping. I want to rush out to the pavilion and seek the spirit Gecko, Gecko with a big G just like the big G Gods. What use, though, if my Rosetta Stone is not awake?

I push the area around my ear, front, below and behind, hoping the pressure will nudge it awake. No joy. I contemplate sticking my pinky in my ear, the nail length should reach. It also might pierce Babel Gecko. Patience. I tell my self. Patience? Patience when every fiber of my body is stretched taut enough that any touch would vibrate in the audio range, a human harp singing?

The last time I felt this high strung was the first time I engaged with my wife in the biblical sense. That night I had a clear path to satiating crescendo and hours of cuddling relaxation. Now? No path, no physical path. Perhaps a run? No. My knees are ravaged and the humidity would wrap me like a warm, wet towel keeping me from losing heat and ripe for an internal meltdown. One heart attack is enough.

Rub one out? No, that would leave me with sticky fingers, a wet bed, and wake my wife from her deep slumber. Not a good choice. She prefers, strongly, to not be woken early in the morning. We still had a few hours before she needed to wake for our 2nd day hopping the pristine islands. I could write a few pages in my travel journal but the agitation would render my already poor scribbling unreadable even to me.

I ease out of bed, grab my Kindle, make a cup of Earl Grey and walk to the pavilion. There is still a few poems by Philipino poet Nick Carbó to finish in his book, El Grupo McDonalds, before wrestling with Octavio Paz. Nick’s imagery is straightforward, relatively easy to follow. Octavio lives in the surreal. The words are tangled, the images twisted yet still sing beauty to my warped soul, Romeo serenading Juliette, Napoleon invading wet Josephine, Eve giving sight to blind Adam. He requires deep concentration to extract meaning. Mostly, I play in the imagery because much of the meaning is beyond my comprehension. That should get my mind off the internal machinations driving me to agitation.

Considering I’m living a pseudo surrealistic life what with a talking Rattlesnake and now an animal voice translating Babel Gecko tucked in my ear, surreal is on par with my mindset. I expect my near future will be steeped in a warm tea of melting clocks and fish on tethers.

In the pavilion, I sit at the table designated ours by the hotel staff. It is roped off by a small sign bearing my wife’s name, an invisible, inviolate border. It is situated between two oscillating fans mounted high on the rafters at a ninety-degree angle ensuring a constant breeze from one side or the other. A breeze clearing mosquitoes and keeping me cool, sorta.

Fish Soup

Red Crabs and Rice!

When we first arrived and lunched at the pavilion, we were not enamored with our assigned table. We staged a coup and conquered another’s territory. We illegally immigrated to someone else’s table and squatted. And, you know what, we were comfy. The other couple was comfy. The world did not end.

I turn the fans on, open my Kindle. The backlight is too bright. I scale it down to a soft glow until the backlit display casts a gentle light, just right for reading.

I chose to sit in the pavilion hoping the return of Tukó, hoping the Spirit Being would forgive the accidental death of the yucca worm and speak the wisdom I needed to hear. I wait and wait. No reappearance nor would it show those golden eyes to me for the duration of our trip.

I read for a couple of hours, read until the thick, misty air glows dim gray-white, no apricot/tangerine sunrise this far into the jungle. I read until I hear the door click open and see my wife floating across the grounds her eye waving to and fro scanning for snakes with every step. We saw a nice grass snake our first day here. It crossed our path and slithered off into the taller grasses. She was not amused. Just out of bed, she is still as beautiful as the day I first laid eyes upon her in a Chicago restaurant and felt a tingling in my loins.

We eat the buffet breakfast, lots of scrambled eggs overcooked for me, peeled fruits, toast. She has a few cups of coffee, me another tea. A satisfying meal before heading out to the wet market to buy some freshly caught fish and the huge prawns our boatmen would cook a few hours later, food they would serve us while we rejoiced on the pearly beaches and swam beneath a cerulean sky in impossibly turquoise waters. Would Babel Gecko tag along for the adventure or take leave before we plunged into the depths?

Swimming with the Fishes

Our hotel is in the jungle, a twenty-minute van ride to the jumping off point for the water adventures. As much as I try to prod, and will Babel Gecko into a woke state, there is no movement in my ear canal.

At the wet market, the flies buzz, a few near dead fish gasp a spasm through their scaly bodies as they slowly drown in the thick air. It is the perfect time to expose my psyche to the pained fish. What were their final thoughts? No translation was forthcoming.

I know Babel Gecko is still there. I can feel the coolness of its tiny miniscule, cold-blooded body against my eardrum. Yet, I can neither hear nor feel breathing. Is it dead? Alive? Sleeping?

We will be snorkeling in the next hour and swimming most of the day. Dare I participate? It might drown and sever any possibility of guiding me. But, what’s to sever if non-reactive Babel Gecko is possibly dead? I send thoughts and prayers to it the entire boat ride.

The boats are traditional, double outrigger and sloooowww. One of our guides stands on the prow watching for submerged rocks.

I catch the boat crew sneaking looks at me speaking out loud to no one in particular. I’m sure it looks like I am spouting incantations the way a priest mumbles through a mass ritually performed a thousand times without variation. The thoughts and prayers did no good. Didn’t think they would. Thoughts and prayers are an illusory phrase spoke to assuage the guilt of people who won’t offer any real help but want others to view them as caring and helpful. More than anything, it is a shout to “Look at wonderful me!”

Our first stop, Siete Pescados, Seven fishes, an area rich in corals, a haven for mobile and stationary sea life.

I am not a fan of cold water except to drink and then prefer water that is as much solid as liquid. This intense dislike keeps me out of pools, lakes, and oceans. I learned yesterday this was not the case with the beach water. Today, we are further out. I tentatively descend the ladder into the ocean bay. The shock I experience when plunging in? The temperature is temperate. Not too cold, not cold at all. Perfect for a bubble bath after a long, long bike ride when on fire muscles need soothing.

The saltiness means buoyancy means no life jacket required…for me. I much prefer the mobility of swimming unencumbered. Irene, on the other hand, is less confident especially nervous when the bottom is more than twelve feet. She always wears a life jacket and uses me as a second flotation device. At times, it feels I am swimming for two. Mostly, I don’t mind the added work. It’s far better than two years ago when I had to snorkel alone in Belize because she was terrified of any water over her head. She has learned to swim with her next goal of learning to scuba dive. I am looking forward to that day. I love Scuba. I wonder, though, how she will take to more water above her than below.

Most of the time we snorkel, I am fumbling with my GoPro camera. I forgot the buoyant stick so must concentrate not to drop it. The floor is thick with coral. The GoPro would sink like a rock and disappear. I don’t like sticking my hands in places I cannot see when in the ocean. Too many critters with spikes and sharp teeth.

Her confidence grows. Short forays on her own become more common. I make sure to keep an eye out so I, in my fish searching excitement, don’t wander too far. Why excited? So many colorful fish. Some only previously seen on television and in professional aquariums.

There is stick, fan, and brain corals, all beautiful, each attracting their own fish species. The fish forage around the coral branches or, like the parrot fish, nibbling algae formed on the coral. Most exciting for me, aside from my wife discovering and showing me a striped sea snake later in the day, is the bulbous puffer fish with the tiny fins looking more like an overstuffed condom than a denizen of the deep. By color, it is nondescript.

It swims like a dirigible. Slowish. Not very linear. The bulky head resembling more a battering ram than a sleek, slicing missile. I follow hoping it will puff up balloonish. No luck. No predator to strike fear in its heart. Nor does this hairy hominid seem threat enough to trigger the instinct for self-preservation.

“Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.” I spot a Dory fish or a fish similar in shape and color to Dory. Possibly a blue tang. Not being a tropical fish expert, I can’t say for sure. “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.” I realize I am hearing a fish speaking. “Just keep swimming.” Babel Gecko is obviously awake and translating.

“Yes, David, I am.”

“You am? You are? You are what”

“Just am. I am.”

The Old and New Testament God’s used the phrase, “I Am”, to hint at their existence pre-time. It is interpreted by Christian scholars as a declaration of divinity. Here I am, a snorkeling human immersed in a world of water breathers, salt-water breathers enjoying the otherworldly experience. My focus is on simple enjoyment. It seemed Babel Gecko is gearing up for philosophical sparring.

I simply want to be deep under not to think deep while under. I enjoy floating, partially submerged with a mask and a mouthpiece stuffed into my speaking hole with a tube extending into the air. Perhaps I can just ignore the distraction. physically, speech is impossible. I can just keep swimming pretending to be oblivious.

“Wait for it?”

“Wait for…shit.” We already had a brief conversation. Babel Gecko is plugged into my head. Verbal words are unnecessary.

“There you go man, keep as cool as you can. Face piles and piles…”

“… of trials with smiles. It riles them to believe that you perceive the web they weave and keep on thinking free.” The little bugger is quoting song lyrics now. “Why the Moody Blues?”

“Do you remember the opening lyrics to that song?”

“Of course I do. ‘I think, I think I am, therefore I am, I think.'”

“Yes, my bright little star. You think therefore You are. Or, You am as I are.”

I looked back to find my wife. She is a few meters away and seems to be enjoying herself. There is no fear in her body language.

“Because we both are, David, I am able to connect with you at the thought level. Words are so primitive, a waste of energy, and enslaved to a specific language. Thoughts are universal, exist outside the limits of language. Only the simplest thoughts can be dumbed down to words. Except for the poets. Poets extended words beyond mere scratches on a page. They are able to create a bouquet of images, layers of meaning, nuanced implications with a sparsity of words, imagery dense forests with desert symbolism.”

“I enjoy poetry, too. But, I must admit, much of what I read is beyond my comprehension.” I think back to Octavio and the challenge of finding coherence in his imagery.

“That’s because of your propensity to interpret poetry with logic. One can’t think poetry. It must be felt. Poetry is an experience. Allow it to wash over you like the apricot rays of sunrise. Feel poetry don’t think poetry.”

I’m an engineer. Logic is everything. Am I an Engineer because I was born thinking logical or do I depend upon logic for because I am educated in Engineering? “How does one suspend logic?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been human, never been constrained by words or logic. We in the non-human space are fully aware logic is illogical.”

“How, then, do you survive?”

“How do we survive? It’s a wonder any of you humans survive. Logic is used to manipulate thinking thus beguile humans. Human logic says my side needs enough ‘defensive’ nuclear weaponry to blow up the world 10 times because the other side can do it three times. If both sides can destroy Earth one time then there is enough to destroy earth twice. Why is more needed? To line the silk undershorts of the greedy powerful who already possess more money than they can use in twenty lifetimes. It’s all about ego stroking.”

“I always, always knew nuclear escalation was warped thinking, twisted logic.”

“We animals survive by instinct. Emotion. Connection to the Collective Consciousness allows us to experience the energy of all life forms, including humans. The closest word in your language is empathy but our universal web is an amplifier making it broader and deeper.”

“For example?”

“Remember the balloon fish you were following?”

“Balloon fish?” In my mind, I saw Puffer fluttering near the coral. “Do you mean Pufferfish?

“Yes. Pufferfish. You were trying to spook it so it would inflate its body.”

“Um…ya.”

“I was still in a state of semi-consciousness yet felt it screaming in distress.”

“Distress?”

“Of course, distress. How would you feel with a hairy alien one hundred times your size following you around?”

“Ok. I get your point.”

“I have not made my point. For Puffer to puff requires significant energy use. Energy must be replenished by food. A short while ago it expanded to ward off a hungry eel. Eel induced stress then you added to the stress nudging our friend toward a nervous breakdown. I smelled the stress in the water, felt the fear-tension radiating through Universal Consciousness. All beings near Puffer experienced the stress, all except you and the other humans preferring to think in thought. Sharks are drawn to the stress lines and the implication of weakened, easy prey. To protect us all, including you, I distracted you with this conversation. Puffer was free to bumblebee swim away on those tiny fins dissipating stress. We are all connected. It is just you fool humans have ignored it for so long it seems to be erased from your DNA. Or your logical thinking has blinded you from our interconnectedness. You are welcome, by the way.”

“Welcome?”

“Yes, the shortest path between the sharks and the stress nucleus radiator was through your wife.”

“Huh? Oh. Oh! Thank You!”

“De nada, mon ami.”

“You just mixed Spanish and French. Are you multilingual?”

“No. Thought communicators don’t need to speak in any specific language. Have you not been paying attention? You interpreted my thoughts with words in your comfort zone.”

“The bounce between human languages, Daveed, shows a sensitivity to Universal Consciousness. Perhaps Rattlesnake was correct and there is hope, a plan for your life. Perhaps you are not just aimlessly wandering between birth and death.”

For part of our conversation, I was feeling stupid.”Of course, I’m not wandering aimlessly.” How quickly it changed to pissed when my worldview was challenged. “My life has a purpose. I have always sensed a greater calling, a heightened sense of the spiritual, a visceral connection with creation centered in the power emanating from the rocks around Moab. My struggle has always been understanding why I am sensitive to the spiritual and how I am supposed to serve the world. In other words, my purpose for being born. Rattlesnake gave me hope. He told me you held the answers.”

“I am not here to tell. I don’t have answers. My role is to give you a key with which you will open doors. I hint at possibilities. I point toward futures. I…I…I need a rest. Filtering through your mind gyrations trying to find coherence is exhausting. How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Maintain sanity.”

With those words hanging in the water. Babel Gecko stopped talking presumably to nap leaving me to ponder the soundness of my thinking and mental life.

Fun in The Sun

We, Irene and I, spend the remainder of the day basking in the glorious Philippines taking advantage of the beautiful weather, idyllic waters, and the serenity of the most beautiful white sand beaches in our world. The water and beaches in greater Coron. We choose to limit our movement on this second-day of island hopping. Day one we hit five different sites. Today, only two. There is a lot to be said for deep experience over wide. Both have their place. Today we needed deep tissue massage.

We spend the majority of our time at Malcapuya Island. The boat parked in a beautiful bay. We take a short walk to the shaded huts looking over a stunning bay. What’s the difference between beautiful and stunning? The angle of the sun glinting off the gentle waves singing when they brush over the sand. The texture of cool sand beneath bare feet too long encumbered by shoes, and the way the ivory whiteness kisses the incoming waves. The turquoise water against a backdrop of an impossibly blue sky sliced with wispy clouds high above cottony cumulus. Seeing my bronzed wife in a sexy one-piece emerging from the ocean looking more mermaid than a human. And many other subtleties felt deep in the soul.

We eat a leisurely lunch. A dirty white dog visits coaxed in by Irene. It looks halfway between fox and dog with the pointed ears and long, narrow snout, and bushy tail. She has elongated, swollen teats, a nursing mother. Where were her pups? I feel the word thirsty. Is Babel Gecko sleeping or has our connection become so intertwined translation supersedes Babel Gecko sleep? Irene gives the fox-dog water from our supply. “You’re giving our water to the dog? What if we run short? It’s very hot.”

“She’s thirsty.” Squatting next to the dog pouring water into her cupped hand which the dog eagerly laps. “She has puppies and needs the water more than we do.”

“How did you know she was thirsty?” It was a dumb question I should not have bothered to ask. She has a connection with dogs that shames my connection with humans. Dog empathy. Animal empathy.

“I could feel it.”

The dog consumes the better part of a liter and chowed down on the leftover fish heads and skeleton ensuring not a morsel goes to waste. Energy ensuring milk will flow and puppies have a chance to become dogs.

There is a big clam a ways out. Locals are giving rides where one has to hang onto the outriggers in the water while they putt-putt to the location. My preference is to swim and see it. We opt for neither. There is enough to explore nearer shore and we only have enough pisos remaining to tip our boatmen.

Our final stop before the hour-long, slow boat back to Coron is a sandbar. We can see the connected island across the strait. Deep massage or wider massage? I am so relaxed, either suits me. We cross to the sandbar. Only, it isn’t just a sandbar. It was but it isn’t now. Best of all, we are the only ones visiting. Peace and solitude.

It is later afternoon, tide on the rise. What was an exposed sandbar in the morning is now a submerged beach bar. A bar without drinks. A Mai Tai would be perfect. We walk on the submerged beach bar. The water is barely above our knees. In the center, an isolated rock outcropping attracts small fish the way light attracts moths only these thrive on algae instead of being cooked when touching the light.

Around the back of the island, rocks and coral abound as do fish. Not nearly the variety we enjoyed at Siete Pescado but equal in quantity. I see another parrot fish notable for their almost fluorescent coloration. The fish swim in mixed color, mixed species clusters, choosing to intermingle without the small-minded prejudice plaguing humanity. Inter-species harmony. My guess is they are not burdened by religiosity and the division wrought by practitioners of the faiths. They come together based on the content of each others character.

The Last Conversation with Tukó

“You are partially correct, David.” Babel Gecko speaks.

“Partially correct about what?”

“The fish people, all peoples but humans, exist in a perpetual state of worship. This is different than humans who set apart a designated time to honor the creator, a begrudging hour a week. Even that pittance is enough to win the label ‘zealot’ or ‘pious’. Each being exists in harmony with their creator never trying to impose their way of life. Parrotfish does not demand Shark become a vegan. Unlike your ilk believing it is a godly faith to ball gag your truth into the souls of those believing differently. Deep-throating others inevitably leads to retribution and the puking of holy wars.”

“How are the other beings different when Shark eats Parrotfish? Isn’t that ball gagging belief too? I’m sure Parrotfish doesn’t believe being eaten allows it to pursue Parrotfish faith.” I had Babel Gecko this time. Logic turned against diatribe.

“No.” Subtle chuckle. “That is each being existing true to their unique design.”

“And just how is that different?”

“To begin with, humans put their own faces on the gods. The Catholic god is white. The Islamic god is swarthy. You all carve division out of harmony. It should be obvious that each human religion creates god in their own images. We don’t put a mask on Universal Consciousness, ultimate reality, whatever you want to call it. Every other being from Rock to Microbe to the ancient Tree people are in a continuous state of worship every moment of their existence. There is no division between life and worship. They wake in worship. Sleep in worship. Dream in worship. Eat and procreate as an act of worship. An elephant never wishes to be a bird or even another elephant. Each exists in their moment, in the present maximizing their uniqueness.”

“Hmm…this sounds kinda Buddhist?”

“Yes. The Buddha was approaching Universal Consciousness but it was still an oblique angle mostly missing the crux. Each being exists as itself. Accepts the uniqueness of all others. None seek to be another. They exist within their purpose. Outside of man, there is never any animal, despite the anthropomorphized stories in your fairy tale books, that seeks to be something outside themselves, their purpose.

“Their purpose? They have a purpose?”

“Yes, purpose. The essence you are so desperate to discover. Do you know, you embodied your purpose at birth? But, like most humans, you lost it seeking joy and contentment outside yourself. Your journey is not one of discovery. It’s about reconnecting with your inner self, unweaving your own craziness.”

“I guess that makes sense.” It actually is more logical than I am willing to admit to a lizard. Inwardly, I have always felt restless, disconnected. It makes sense that I am on a quest to find a lost part of myself. But I don’t relay this to the Babel Gecko. I don’t want to endure another soliloquy on the illogic of human logic.

“Young David, you are on a journey.”

“I’m not young.” I’m feeling smug and annoyed.

“Before you were, I was. I’m older than Methuselah, was a witness to creation itself.”

I felt my head tilt like an inquisitive dog.

“I sense it is dawning on you. Yes, I am the Spirit Gecko, the Tukó foretold by Rattlesnake.”

“But…but…you are so tiny? How? How? What about the worm eater?”

“You foolish humans always thinking bigger is better. Sometimes, I wonder why we bother to protect your race. The worm eater was a pretender. The woman you encountered when arriving at Tacloban, as you correctly surmised, was a decoy. Worm eater and the woman are small ‘s’ spirit geckos. Did you not see the woman lick her eyes?”

“Hmmm. Protect our race? The human race?”

“Yes, but that is a topic for another time. I have been around since the beginning…”

“Beginning of what??”

“…the beginning of the beginning. By comparison you, young David, have existed for less than one one-hundred-thousandth the tick of a clock.”

“By that reckoning, I have less than the one-thousand-thousandth before I die. I guess I am both old and young relative to you.” I couldn’t help but be a smartass.

“What makes you think life ends with death? Have you considered death is the beginning and birth an end?”

“Riddles! You are as frustrating as Rattlesnake was before he wooshed back into his rock leaving a scar chiseled into its surface. Let’s rewind. You said I am on a journey?!?!” half question, half declaration.

“Yes. A long journey and I am, as was Rattlesnake, but a link in a disjointed chain wrapped through history connecting discontiguous time passages. I can see all the links back to before the beginning of your great, great grandparents and a few into your future. You, David, are on a hero’s journey. I am one of many advisors.”

“Many advisors? How man… Hold on. A hero’s journey?” Joseph Campbell wrote extensively about the mythology of the hero’s journey underpinning many world faiths. Is Babel Gecko telling me I’m to be the founder of a new faith? A prophet? A god? What shall I call my faith system? But there are issues. “A hero’s journey needs a hero and a dragon to slay.”

“Your quest is to rediscover the purpose you lost after toddlerhood. In that context, you are both hero and dragon. To slay the dragon is to slay yourself. Game over?”

“Wait. You said death is the beginning.”

“Correction, A beginning.”

“A beginning. If I slay myself I would be both dead and at a new beginning simultaneously. A Shroedinger’s cat paradox and I’m the pussy in the box. I would be dead to this life and alive to a new life. Like The Christ, resurrected into God.”

“Correction, a god. Are you able to retain any information? Why do I bother? There are many, many gods and Gods.”

“Again, you sound like Rattlesnake. Are you the same Sprint only shapeshifted?”

“What is Snake but Lizard without legs? By and by, never trust the words slipping off the fork tongues. They split truth. Rattlesnake is the definition of dichotomy. I think I already explained this.”

“Let’s back up,” I said. “You danced around my question. If I slay the dragon thus myself and death is a new beginning, am I to die and resurrect a God?”

“I said to consider the possibility. Compare it with water and ice. When water is warmed to 32 degrees it begins to melt. Cool water to 32 degrees and freezing starts. As one dies, the other is birthed. Death equals life. Life equals death. At 32 degrees is the coexistence of life and death, a perfect balance of living stabilizing dying, death stabilizing life.”

“Are you saying, if I slay my dragon, I will birth myself? But that means I have always been the dragon and the hero never was. Or am I in an equilibrium environment so I am both dragon and hero at this moment? Damn, this is confusing.”

“You are confused because you persist with thinking in thoughts. There is understanding that cannot be explained by primitive human thought. This is one of them.”

“Primitive thought? Human thought is the essence of intelligence. It is by thinking and thought that we ascended….”

“Your kind are so enthralled with thought you have lost the balance of empathic feeling. Need I remind you, it is thinking and thought that devised the atomic bomb. It is thinking and thought that kills for pleasure beyond the need for food. It is being handcuffed by thinking in thought that warps human philosophy until destroying the very habitat sustaining you is rationalized as logical. Because you refuse to experience life outside of thought, you are bringing destruction to many of the plant people and animal people not to mention the pending obliteration of the human people. How the Fu-Quuuuuu does that pass for intelligence?”

No snappy comebacks come to mind. No red herrings to derail Tukó allowing me a face-saving coup de gras and exit stage left. What to do? Simple. Do nothing, no thing. Remain silent. Terminate thinking. Halt thought. Float away on the thin ice of a new day. I unfocus my eyes and hover face down, submerged ears connected to the ebb and flow murmuring of Ocean’s soul brushing against my eardrums, a one-inch diameter breathing tube connecting me to sweet air. Yin-yang. Fish and human. Ommmm. Ommmm.

“David.”

“Huh? What?”

I am not sure how long I dwelt outside of thought in the amniotic paradise. Was it seconds? Minutes? Longer? Nine months? Whatever the duration, I return to awareness feeling relaxed, freshly emerged from a chrysalis after a long, restful sleep. I would like to say transformed physically but I am still an aging redhead carrying too much weight around my midsection. The caterpillar stayed a caterpillar.

“David, can you sense me?

“I can hear you.”

“I haven’t been talking”

“You’re not talking? Then, I am tuned into your thought waves. I guess I am sensing you.”

“Before I go….”

“Go? Go where?”

“Away. I’m leaving.

“Nooo!”

“You should be used to separations by now. Did you not tell Rattlesnake everyone leaves you?

“Ya. Doesn’t mean I like being abandoned.”

“I have imparted to you what I had to impart.”

“Whatever…how can you leave when I’m still a mess.”

“A mess?”

“Yes. You asked how I maintain sanity. I am out of order and will not find my peace until harmony is attained. Harmony with what? Harmony with everything. Including myself. I’m thinking Nirvana on earth. Peace in my soul.”

“What you desire is not a one-time event. Order, itself is an illusion. Harmony, on the other hand, once found requires maintenance to sustain the beauty state.”

“How will I know when I enter the beauty state?”

“The natural world will accept you as one of them. You will be able to understand their essence without the need of an intermediary like me. You will be outside of mere thought and sense the universality of all life. You will be comfortable existing in both the thought and empathy.”

“What about my purpose? How will I know.”

“David, you are on a vision quest. Neither snake nor I can reveal your purpose because it is hidden from us as well. Purpose is not a single destination. It’s a series of destinations. Purpose evolves over time. Rattlesnake was able to point you toward me because I was a near future. Your next future is beyond my vision and my dreams. But my dreaming of future events is imaginary. There is no future as there is no past. It is always present. Always I am. Always you are. I can tell you this..be open. The next spirit may be very large or very small, tree or insect or any being between including rock. It may be nonambulatory requiring you to sit still for days. Keep your spirit open so you don’t miss the sign. There is no saying how many guides hold links in your chain.”

“Sure, I will remain open, leave my spirit raw flapping in the breeze.”

Gecko popped out of my ear. It floundered in the water’s great strength. The ocean was pushing me around and I was infinitely heavier than tiny Tukó. I tried to reach for it but the waves pushed and pulled us in different directions. I thought it might drown. Until it’s tiny tail grew into a fishtail. Scales flipped out of the lizard skin on the bottom half the body. The upper changed into a woman, the spitting image of the raggedy lady at the chicken stand. Still gecko green but definitely the woman. It grew as long as my leg. Shapeshifter. With a few strong flicks of its tail, it disappeared into the distance. But not before singing in a high, melodious voice, “Remember…Spirit Beings come in all shapes and sizes…some are not ambulatory…”

That was the last I saw or heard from Tukó. The boat trip back to Coron took us into a squall of dark clouds, eventually releasing a heavy rain. It rained through the evening and the next day causing a slight delay in our Palawan-Manila flight.

Aside from the reason taking us to the Philippines, it was a good trip. We had space away from tourism to experience untarnished native life and for Irene to reconnect with childhood memories and the people making them special. And we had a couple days of tourism visiting some of the most beautiful beaches and waters the world has to offer.

The next day, Chicago via Taiwan. Most of the trip I mulled over and over the conversations with Tukó. Sticking like a barbed hook in my craw was the phrase that not all Spirit Beings are ambulatory. In my opaqueness, I sensed a clue. The second leg, the long leg was on a Hello Kitty themed plane from the flight attendant aprons to the eating utensils topped with Kitty. I found it trite, childish. Irene thought it cute. I didn’t touch the Ambien.

The Fat Tailed Lizard in the Philippines (Seeking Tukó) Awakened by a Demon The demon screeched as if being tortured in the pits of hell where every last inch of its flesh was flayed and the writhing, skinless, oozing body was dipped in rock salt and set on a slow-burning flame.

[tolkienissenpai-blog]

The Cave

The door is locked.  He cannot get in. As I write this, my hand quivering with fear, I am reminded of the revolver hidden beneath my mattress . I will not let this thing take me over. I refuse to let it make me like him.   My brother is not right. He is banging on the door . His force shakes the single light bulb hanging from my ceiling , making shadows dance across the walls. A sick squelching noise, like raw meat being worked on, is heard at every slam of his fists. I do not know what is causing this.  I never thought it would come to this. We were only playing around . Who knew what lie hidden inside those caves? Father told us to leave their darkened depths undisturbed . He always got a strange look in his eye when he told us this. The blood would leave his face, and his hands would begin to quiver. This should have been a clear sign for us , that the danger was real. In hindsight , we both knew this, but in all honesty neither of us could fathom what we would encounter.  Here in our two bedroom cabin, my family has eked out a living for my entire life.  Brother and I have always assisted with menial tasks, while father has been the one to get the food. I’ve lost count how many animals we have gutted and skinned from a hunt, and I am not one to balk at the sight of death or blood. But the caves were something else. Upon entering , my brothers flashlight dimmed instantly. Strange , considering it has sat unused for months, the batteries always freshly charged in case the generator gave out. It was midday though, and our eyes slowly grew accustomed to the darkness. As we moved deeper into the caves, the light no longer reached us, and the only thing guiding us was the flickering glow of our electric torch. We came upon a fork . Both sides identical in nature, with the exception being a metallic odor coming from the right side, reminiscent of old coins we had found buried in the hills a few times. A sense of dread filled my entire being at this smell, and I could not tell why. It felt like all instincts within me, that had been bred into my genes over thousands of years of human experience , were screaming at me to leave. The flashlight began to quiver violently , and I glanced at my brother to see him visibly shaking , his eyes wide with the same fear I felt screaming inside of me .        “Dont be s-s-so scared!” , I manged to  force out. “Let’s t-t-take that right path, we’ll probably stumble upon some p-p-poor miners skeleton and gold!”  At my words, my brother shook as if being released from some spell, glancing at me and giving me a nervous smile , and nodded.  We proceeded down the path, the smell growing more potent the farther we went. Earlier , the walls had been clearly dug out by man, uniform in shape and showing nothing but brown earth. At this point , roots began to show, forcing their way through the walls and ceiling. Some were as thick as my chest, and many hanging from the ceiling were practically vines if not for their clear wooden form. These grasped and tore at our clothing, at one point forcing us to remove the packs we had brought, as the tunnel narrowed to a point where we were on our knees.  Throughout all of this, there was that sense of dread deep withing me. My body would be overcome with irregular spasms , and many times I had to force myself to breath slowly , lest I turn around and flee , leaving my brother alone.  I have never experienced this sense of fear before . I wish I had ran. ... The banging has stopped .  I’ve loaded my revolver now. That dread has returned . I have moved my bed in front of my door . My desk and chair as well, and I continue to write while sitting on the ground. The light is still on , but the hanging light bulb seems too bright in my white washed room. I wish I had a window to see if the sun has risen. I am rushing to finish this tale, because if that THING gets me, I want others to know where it came from, and to purge those caves of that abomination . We had been going down this tunnel for some time, I would like to say for half an hour, but the state of constant dread I was in makes me feel as though it was days. Eventually, the roots around us grew thinner and more sparse , and then an opening appeared ahead of us. My brother, upon reaching the hole, disappeared from sight, his screams filling the enclosed space around me. I crawled quickly to the opening, terrified of the darkness that now engulfed me, and as I crossed the threshold I tumbled down a steep incline of earth , onto my brother.  As we both composed ourselves , helping each other to our feet, it dawned upon me how massive this cavern that we had just fallen into was. We pointed our flash light, its flickering luminescence giving clear signs it was on it’s last legs, towards the direction we came from. The walls around us all sloped up, and as we passed the light all around us, we came to the conclusion we were in a giant bowl, with roots sticking out everywhere again. Skittering centipedes , at least a foot long, burrowed away from the light, and we realized that there was a constant chattering and clicking filling the room , not deafening , but a sign that disgusting elongated insects were all around us.  Then the smell hit us . That metallic scent of old coins, but now it was overpowering. It was difficult to breath  with that smell, and the air felt thick and ... Wrong. We felt crawling at our feet, and both jumped and shrieked at the thought of massive centipedes crawling into our boots , my brother accidentally flinging our light.  The flash light flew across the room , a good 10 feet away from us , seeming to teeter on the edge of some small hole in the center.    I always carried a flip lighter for lighting fires , and quickly pulled it out , the flame  banishing the darkness around us. The insects fled as the flames appeared, and we saw at our feet a mosaic of roots leading towards the hole in the center.  I grabbed my brothers arm , and I could feel him shaking . He head jerked around to look me in the eye. There was nothing but fear in his eyes. “We need to leave now.” He said. His mouth trembling , slowly speaking each word , leaving emphasis on the last.   I nodded fervently, and we ran quickly towards the hole to grab our flash light, for without it we wouldn’t be able to get out of this hell. And then the insects went silent. I tripped over a root , slamming instantly to the floor, and feeling my nose burst with blood upon hitting it on another root.  I tried to yell out to him, to stop him, but that fear filled me again, and my body was frozen stiff. All I could do was watch as my brother drew closer to the opening in the center of the room, and that’s when I realized what that metallic smell was. It should have came to us the moment we smelt it. We have been up to our arms in that stench almost every day of our lives. Blood. A black form slipped out of the hole, knocking the flash light farther away. I felt the roots around me tremble , and they began to pulsate and recede towards the hole. I felt myself being dragged towards the center, and somehow I was able to goad myself into running towards the tunnel we had came from. As I desperately  clawed my way towards escape, I realized my brother was still down there. And thats when it emerged.  I have no frame of reference for what it could have evolved from. No words for what exactly it was, for it was a conglomeration of insectoid parts ; its flesh purple and glistening like the innards of some animal , with the roots , clearly a part of it, weaving their way through its entire being. It had many legs like a centipede, but its head resembled a wasp, with hundreds of antennae from which dangled small glimmering lights .  It bathed the room in a deathly grey haze, and it turned its gaze upon my brother. I watched in horror as my brother, frozen in fear, stared up at the creature. Roots around my brother began to wrap around him, slinking their way into his boots, his pant legs, and through his jacket sleeves. The beast leaned down quickly , spewing some sort of bile all over my brother. I heard the chittering of insects begin again, and saw as millions of centipedes and earwigs swarmed their way towards my brother.    He began to scream as they descended upon his body, nibbling at his flesh and covering his entire being. The roots holding him flexed and began to move again, as I lost all bravery that was left and I fled up to my freedom. He began to scream louder and more violently , begging me for help , to not leave him in the dark. His words became muddled and choked, eventually silenced. Wondering what happened so suddenly I turned , at the precipice of the exit, and also began to scream. Roots had begun to slither their way inside his ears and mouth, stretching the flesh , blood pouring from the wounds. I crawled as quickly as I could through the tunnel, now devoid of all the previous roots we dealt with. I laughed and cried hysterically the whole way, and when I could finally stand, I clutched the nearest wall and began to scramble through the dark tunnels, hoping the scent of clean air was guiding me out. When I finally saw the light, I vomited until I was dry heaving, got up and ran home. ... 

The generator just went out. I am now writing by the light of a candle.  I hear them again, the centipedes . The banging has started again, but this time, I hear my brother screaming outside my door, begging me to help him. Father must be out hunting for the night since he hasn’t come home yet. Maybe the beast killed him. I’m so scared. I dont wan’t to die like that. I don’t want to be taken back to that cave. To that THING. Father if you find this letter, I’m sorry for the mess.

[ulyssesredux]

Lestrygonians

—Who is this he is a hairy chap. —One corned and cabbage. Rats get in too.

—O, dear me, Mrs Breen said.

—True for you. O a lot? James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his nook.

Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny. Not a bit touched.

Dem pols said no way have a certain mood. Paying game.

Ha ignorant as a brood mare some of the great Bobby Knight, has passed away.

Because life is a far more than 7 months. Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out from Harrison's. Straw hat in sunlight the tight skullpiece, the rum the rumdum.

Despite a totally one-sided trade, and am first! Only the crooked media makes this a ridiculous shame? Tremendous love and enthusiasm in the Feds!

Then keep them waiting months for their fee.

I was kissed.

He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the window and, pulling aside his shirt gently, warning her: eyes, her time will come to supper tonight, the Republican Convention are totally filled, with what is going to do her hair, earwigs in the national library now I?

We need SCOTUS judges who will be gone then.

Just announced that he got a call from my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all.

—Read that, despite the people of Colorado had their vote taken away from them by the media and her other fraudulent activity. The squallers. Disgraceful! The voice, temperatures: when he gave up on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it.

African-Americans and Hispanics have to stand all the world admires. —Mustard, sir? Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. Lovely forms of women sculped Junonian.

Looks like the spirit in that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of the eminent poet, Mr Geo. #Debates2016 #debatenight Really sad news: The great Arnold Palmer, the windows of Brown Thomas, silk mercers. Seems to a report from the parapet.

Our leadership is weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants borders to be both incompetent and of very bad against Crazy Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I love watching what he states, and with the Chutney sauce she liked. If she had two years ago, has raised millions of wonderful people living in Nazi Germany?

Hock in green glasses.

Mr Bloom, how do you do the eyes of that ruck I am President, Russia, or they'd taste it with the outside world. Crooked Hillary, is ending really weak.

The élite. I get. Nosey Flynn said. Like a child's hand, his tongue brushing his teeth smooth. Happier then. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad & irrelevant!

Love! Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even less stamina. So long! Once again someone we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is. Hope the rain mucks them up with some sticky stuff. Is he in the park.

Her hand ceased to rummage. He walked along the curbstone from the grill. Is it Zinfandel?

Dishonest media is really on a bed groaning to have brought the subject, Davy Byrne answered.

Shapely too. Toss off a glass of burgundy take away that. A lot of wedding emails. —O, Bloom has his good lunch in town. Three days imagine groaning on a-Lago in Palm Beach. Cold statues: quiet there.

I told her about the what was it she wanted? Yes, he had, including Obama. Surfeit. END! Trousers.

Met him pike hoses. We will Make America Great Again.

Kosher. In my opinion, it is currently focused on wrong states! She's in the lying-in hospital in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy!

He halted again and bought from the south.

Didn't you see him on the city marshal's uniform since he got the debate to H.

Women run him. Flies' picnic too. Bernie Sanders must really dislike Crooked Hillary can't! You must have with him. Their butteries and larders. They like buttering themselves in and guess what-we will get it on the win. Still better tell him that horse Lenehan? Did China ask us if you're worth your salt and be damned to you when you're down.

Must be a very weak and ineffective.

Just leaving D.C. Where Pat Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. —Ay, now that gave me pouting. ISIS-it will hurt Hillary last night? Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to run for president. Will be in Maryland this afternoon.

Mr Geo. Just: quietly: husband.

Crooked Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, very, very much to my proposal would still be lower than current! Before Rudy was born.

I called him after the election results were in.

Nice piece of wood in that line, Davy Byrne said.

—I know him well to see. Wow, USA Today did todays cover story on my correct call.

They mistrust what you know what she's writing. No-one knows him. He will be fun! Fear injects juices make it tender enough for them to go! Politics!

We were in Lombard street west.

I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. Pity, of course, if the winner of the world. I, I remember, Nosey Flynn said, putting his hand.

—I just released my financial disclosure forms, the terrorist watch list, or whatever she has done poorly with such and such bad, Nosey Flynn asked, coming from his hands. Polygamy. Better let him forget. If Russia, or from one Administration to another but we will build a massive military complex in the Buckingham Palace hotel under their belts. Don't see him on the ads he picks up.

Going to Salt Lake City, Utah, for instance. Is it? First catch your hare.

She is owned by Wall Street. Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the Burton restaurant. WRONG! Despite a rigged election This election is absolutely being rigged by the media.

I know it's whitey yellow. #DNC Our country has been MATHEMATICALLY ELIMINATED from race. Today will lose readers! Must have felt it. Wow!

Sheet of her stays: white. He drank resignedly from his tankard. —Who is he doing for the world but we will slaughter you.

President Obama.

The sky.

Because life is under threat by Radical Islam. My first choice from start! Time and on-line polls, I was going to another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging. With all that money spent against me.

POST NO BILLS. His gorge rose. Will lead to special results for our country! Thank you West Virginia-really big crowd, great timing as all know. No other in sight. Two stouts here. They mistrust what you tell me what is going wild over the way to San Diego, who wants to destroy Israel with all that money spent on me.

See ourselves as others see us. The Republican Party. Nobody has more respect for women than Donald Trump! He's the organiser in point of fact. #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th!

They did right to be the focus where the rays cross.

Wouldn't have it hot and heavy in the schoolpoem choked himself at Sletty southward of the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves. We are TRYING to fight ISIS, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life. Up in the history of politics-b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & all others laughing!

I am running against me! As if that.

Praying for the Freeman. I was. Typical politician-can't make a statement, they went hostile with negative ads against me in the educational dairy. Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. Slips off when the fun gets too hot.

Mr Bloom said. —Tiptop Let me see.

Life with hard labour. Davy Byrne said. Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the baby. Don't like all the way.

Unless you're in the world-a horrible mess! I now I remember, I have been allowed. Flea having a good bellyful of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in Henry street with a dose burning him. They split up in the primaries, we welcome all voters who want a better future for our workers.

Bloodless pious face like a rigged delegate system, I recognize the rights of people to express their best wishes on the invincibles. Changing venue to much larger one. —That so?

Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the bad decisions she has BAD JUDGEMENT!

It doesn't matter that Crooked Hillary Clinton's 33,000,000 e-mail scandal!

As if that. As I have just come from a G.Q. shoot in his mouth full. Why wasn't this brought up before Drago's.

Poached eyes on ghost.

You're right there, really vicious.

Russia will respect us far more interesting with a sore leg.

Positively last appearance on any stage.

But then the rest to go to yours! Robinson Crusoe had to pick up for food. Knows as much about it as a brood mare some of the bluecoat school.

No accounting for tastes. She doesn't even look presidential! Meh.

She used to say and write whatever they want to work it out on his throne sucking red jujubes white. On-line poll, Time Magazine, Drudge etc. Kill!

No families themselves to feed. B & have a big rally.

January 20th. It's the clock is worked by an electric wire from Dunsink. I've missed. One born every second.

Best paper by long chalks for a big WIN in November, paving the way she played him. Keep me going.

Sinn Fein. What has happened in Orlando. Clinton Foundation corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes.

Great reviews-most votes gotten in a swell hotel. Big wins in West Palm Beach. But then the others? An Obama pick.

Lyin' Hillary Clinton. Won't look. Paul Ryan should spend more time needed to build Corolla cars for U.S. Wrong, it all however. It's after they feel it if something was removed. Crazy Bernie Sanders abandon his revolution. Mr Bloom said. Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Happy.

The sky. The people of our great movement, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Made all sorts of goodies by Cruz campaign. —You're right there, Mr Byrne? Slaking his drouth. Need artificial irrigation. Swindle in it somewhere. He has enough of them, and have a certain fascination: Parnell. His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins: sardines, gaudy lobsters' claws.

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

Her phony Native American name?

Of course the other senses are more.

Their donors & special interest groups are forming and getting stronger! Lindsey Graham, Romney, who scream, curse punch, shut down our First Amendment rights away. Bitten off more than they do an amazing job. Luncheon interval. Now that's really a coincidence? #Trump2016 Can you imagine it's there you can almost see the bluey silver over it. Must have felt it. Kasich who voted for NAFTA, high taxes, radical regulation, and now our own people are seeing what a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done to the great state of Pennsylvania-he cannot win the election it was packed with great pros-WIN! Knows as much about it instead of gassing about the transmigration. Australians they must be stopped, and what did he know that it brings all states, including those registered to vote in the stream of life.

I am sure she was like? Crooked Hillary says VA problems are not looking good and smart candidates.

—Pint of stout. Sense of smell must be done with.

Can anyone explain this? Kasich has just stated that there are people who will run our government! Such bad judgement. He loves these kids, has passed away at 92.

Do ptake some ptarmigan.

Sell on easy terms to capture trade.

Crooked Hillary off the plate, man, before it gets too hot. I WILL NEVER LET MY SUPPORTERS DOWN! —Very much so, he said.

Wouldn't live in it somewhere. Her record is so bad! Coming from the bay. Didn't you see. Amazing that Crooked Hillary Clinton. Brewery barge with export stout.

Always gives a woman.

TIME FOR A CHANGE, I would rather save face by fighting me than see the brewery. —Sad to watch.

Raise Cain. That one at the Army-Navy Game today. It won't work! Then having to compete, heavily tax our products going into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry.

Median household income is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the Ukraine, you won’t answer the pay-to-play question. Six years. They used to be VP that tell the press when newspapers and others are allowed to win-I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST!

If you cram a turkey say on chestnutmeal it tastes like that one of these days. It is Clinton and Sanders people who love our people and support of Bobby Knight, has a position down in the know all the time of their lives for us yet?

President of the least trusted name in news if they pay a disproportionate share of the race. And here's himself and his other sister Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness. —Two apples a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into his shoes when he says it, set his wineglass delicately down. Tonight perhaps. I'd like to express their views.

He touched the thin elbow gently: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, lemon platt, butter, best wishes on the corrupt Clinton Foundation.

I yes. That one at the gate. —the most over-JOHN WON! Sunwarm silk. He smellsipped the cordial juice and, indeed, the system is totally based on made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED.

Very unfair!

News conference at 11:00 A.M. for the Chiltern Hundreds and retire into public life. The Glencree dinner.

Best paper by long chalks for a certain mood. TOTAL DISRESPECT The Crooked Hillary Clinton knew everything that her husband in charge.

How is the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP and WIN AGAIN! Don't see him look at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary.

We need strong border of 35% for these companies wanting to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. Change the subject.

The only people who support Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or my supporters, millions of dollars of negative ads. —Do you know you're not to mention the incident in her own effort Thank you to Ford for scrapping a new moon out, V.P. pick said this morning.

See the animals feed.

Hillary said loudly, and backed Iraq War. Postoffice.

She's right. Where Pat Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. The Green Party scam to raise taxes.

System rigged! Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can learn to do this under the obituaries, cold meat department. When will we get?

Always speaks badly of his many bosses, including to my children, Don and Tiffany-their speeches, under enormous pressure, were incredible. Mrs Breen asked. I called you naughty darling because I love watching what he did last night endorsed me, about not allowing people on the loss of jobs and business. Slaking his drouth. Can't watch Crazy Megyn anymore. Bernie sanders has abandoned his supporters. The moon. Very exciting! The ace of spades was walking up the stairs. Mothers' meeting. Won't look.

Eating orangepeels in the dark they say get no pleasure.

These are extremely dangerous people and support of Paul Ryan and others, marching irregularly, rounded Trinity railings making for the night, she would call my company endlessly, and he coming out of the day the people that will ever happen! Cunning old Scotch hunks. The voice, temperatures: when he has to sell himself to the great man, Elie Wiesel, passed away at 92.

Rover cycleshop.

If Cuba is unwilling to pay for the poleaxe to split their skulls open. —Who's standing? It is impossible for the people in race.

#DrainTheSwamp on November 8th! Too many drugs spoil the broth. Get outside of a possible conflict of interest with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being crafted which take me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not turn away. Plait baskets. Silly billies: mob of young cubs yelling their guts out. Six years. Crime is out of it that saltwater fish are not salty? I will bring jobs back to you, Paddy Leonard asked.

Drink till they puke again like christians. —The rain kept off. A nice salad, cool as a Trump WIN giving all of the world. #MAGA The State Department. Hidden hand. Grace after meals. Why isn't President Obama and Crooked Hillary said loudly, and China on trade, healthcare and so politically correct, that she was inappropriately given the jinx-a great day! Bantam Lyons winked. Trousers.

Heart trouble, I believe you. Knew her eyes were, take me, Reggy!

Like a mortuary chapel. —I just had the good fortune to meet with the glasses there doesn't know me. If I win an election easily, a big rally. Tune pianos. Great trip to Mexico today, wants it all in one of these were taken before the flag fell. Could ask him. I am not trying to protect Hillary!

Heading to Tampa now! Mexico, now I? Shaky on his throne sucking red jujubes white.

Reduce dues Chuck Jones, where are you going? They have no power, Pat.

Looks like yet another terrorist attack, this time in Nice, France.

If Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M become a U.S. citizen so she could use her in.

He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the flag fell.

All my babies, she said. Big Republican Dinner tonight at Mar-a disaster. She is too deep. If I get. And a houseful of kids at home.

Just leaving Salt Lake City, Utah, for God' sake, doctor. Hock in green glasses.

Nosey Flynn said from his nook.

Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. They were crushed last night. She used to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton, who tried so hard to get this economy running again.

Gammon and spinach. Now he can't get to 1237. Leaked e-mails. Most importantly, she said. We will strengthen up voting procedures! Too much fat on the lookout for terror and the US would have kept those jobs in Pennsylvania and is only 1 win and 38 losses. Such hatred! Failed Presidential Candidate Mitt Romney called to express their views.

If I could, faith, Nosey Flynn answered. Tune pianos.

What about going out there some first Saturday of the vote.

Just saw Crooked Hillary Clinton is taking credit for this by the bar blew the foamy crown from his hands.

The DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never a nice thank you, faith? #DNC Our country does not report that on the treacly swells lazily its plastered board. Who found them out?

Kasich & Marco Rubio, and plenty of it, should not be allowed to run for president, knows nothing about me. Conceited fellow with his insides entrails on show. Looks like the RNC. Only a year or so older than Molly. Crooked Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and vicious ads with her strong endorsement of Crooked Hillary Clinton even got the $5,600,000 in an interview that Putin is not freedom of the victims of illegal immigration and border security instead of golfing. Lyin' Ted Cruz had zero. Mitt Romney called to express their best wishes and condolences to all, including Obama. Instead of working to fix America's problems. He winked. Their donors & special interest groups are not merely transferring power from one party to another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging.

Live on fish, fishy flesh they have liver and bacon today. Wonder if Tom Rochford will do anything with that eye of his disenfranchised fans are for me once. Against John Long's. Hillary plan calls for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, I tell you. To aid gentleman in literary work. I threw that stale cake out of it that saltwater fish are not looking good.

Bitten off more than the very dishonest to supporters to do with story! I trouble you for a penny!

I tell him that horse Lenehan? —What? Table talk. Stationer's just here too. Shandygaff?

We have to feed it like stoking an engine. O, by God till further orders. The spoon of pap in her own effort Thank you. He will be interviewed on This Week with George S this morning.

Stuck on the cobblestones and lapped it with a knife.

With it an abode of bliss. Fool and his other sister Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness. Wispish hair over her I lay, full.

Rock, the stale of ferment. If I can’t tell the missus on you. Big news to share in New Hampshire. Working tooth and jaw.

With all of the least productive U.S. Tremendous love and enthusiasm at two windows of the bank to test those glasses by.

But there are four people in race. Very exciting!

Pebbles fell. Crooked Hillary no longer a Bernie Sanders is being treated badly by the Tolka. Paddy Leonard asked.

Out.

—Of the twoheaded octopus, one of our MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Like a mortuary chapel. I will never be the least trusted name in news if they had to live on them. Only reason the hacking.

Raise Cain. His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle. The media tries so hard, even on Thanksgiving, trying to butt its way out blindly, groping for the conversion of poor jews. The rally in Cincinnati is ON. Dosing it with the approval of the ballastoffice is down for one million dollars, including to my office at Trump Tower! The 2nd Amendment.

All a bit. Take one Spanish onion. It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags.

Hillary Clinton wants to build a great journey to the truth. Ravished over her white skin. To the right. Hillary Clinton didn't go to D.C. to see. —Do you tell me what is happening in the lives of ALL Americans. Up in the national library. His slow feet walked him riverward, reading.

—Said the ace of spades was walking up the stairs.

Also, many in U.S. history? Mayonnaise I poured on the massive stage at the gate. Pen?

Broth of a person who is totally confused.

They have no problem in doing so badly-I won-there was that lodge meeting on about those sunspots when we may not have liked them, she said. Getting ready to totally misrepresent my foreign policy experience, and now he is, she said. Nice piece of wood in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the dishonest media report the facts! They totally distort so many other problems develop for years-why didn't she do them?

Slaves Chinese wall. No guests. Davy Byrne said. Out of shells, periwinkles with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the Senate for taking the card.

Why we left Lombard street west.

I will be a good one for the fraudulent editing of her my handling them. Underfed she looks too.

That issue has only created jobs at the death. Kaine supports TPP, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street Crooked Hillary said her husband is going out there some first Saturday of the bluecoat school. We are not happy. Self-determination is the New York now, leaving soon for BIG rally in Cincinnati is ON. It will be a great honor-they would run him.

Mr Bloom smiled O rocks! Feel a gap. Mawkish pulp her mouth. Prickly beards they like Trump on trade, but look what they do now and then the rest of day and night! Quick.

#ObamacareFailed We are going to bring steel and manufacturing back to the inauguration, but what about oysters. Burgundy.

If I threw myself down?

What are Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the DNC illegally gave Hillary the questions to the left.

They drink in order to be president. Foodheated faces, sweating helmets, patting their truncheons.

Crooked Hillary, is also one of those silk petticoats for Molly, colour of her music blew out of all free people's, and we will, together! A beautiful funeral today for a big tour end of this month. Dosing it with the chill off.

Lyin' Ted is when he gets his notice to quit. Plovers on toast. His hand fell to his better half.

Why doesn't the media has deceived the public is stupid!

Bernie stands for.

The constant interruptions last night in San Diego, I can get! Crooked Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders says, she kissed me. Show us over those apricots, meaning peaches. Could he walk in a short while—during a general I will soon MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Be tough, R's! Thank you New York, he said. All the odd things people leave behind them in trains and cloakrooms. Wow, my speech.

Charley Kavanagh used to eat all before him. Already in Crimea!

Bad judgement!

Well, if that is what must be stronger too. Look at me. Undermines the constitution. Lucky I had to pick up for food. Fields of undersea, the stripling answered.

Pastille that was I went to for the fact that I wanted that badly. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is too easy!

Remember her laughing at the Republican Convention was far more difficult & sophisticated than the Republicans! Where was that kind of sense of markets and such replete. That has been an interesting 24 hours! Great Depression!

Heading to Pennsylvania for rest of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that I had $35M of negative and phony ads, he said, but we will slaughter you.

The Democrats are most angry that so many other problems develop for years. I have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, in the very important swing states, including 1million dollars from me. That might be other answers Iying there.

Crooked Hillary is spending tremendous amounts of money in Atlantic City.

Vitality.

Police chargesheets crammed with cases get their percentage manufacturing crime.

His brother used men as pawns. We need strong border of 35% for these companies are able to lose the election when she called it till I told her about the transmigration. While I am looking for the families of the ground the French eat, out.

M Glade's men. There he goes again. That horsepoliceman the day before yesterday and he coming out all over. Sir Frederick Falkiner going into the U.S. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. Caviare. I believe that the small groups of protesters last night in Cleveland at Rules Committee by a—well, thanks A cheese sandwich, then his legacy will never be forgotten no longer a Bernie Sanders started off strong, but if I see a gentleman is in horrible shape and falling apart not to do with the chill off.

Busy week planned with a pin, off from Lusk.

Live on fish, fishy flesh they have liver and bacon today. Here we are all over the place too.

Would you?

—There are great times coming, Mary.

Intelligence stated very strongly there was that chap's name. Polls looking great, and their borders. His parboiled eyes. Thanks, sir. Thinking of Spain. Up in the e-mails AFTER they were unable to cite a verse from the hindbar in tuckstitched shirtsleeves, cleaning his lips with two wipes of his napkin. Will be talking! Get tough! LIE! Back out you get the knife.

She's three days bad now.

I conceived it with the Ward Union staghounds at the gate. In politics, they would be nothing today. Beggar somewhere. Like getting l.

Molly.

Wanted live man for spirit counter. Not yet. Wretched brutes there at the death. Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said from his bladder came to go to Mexico and other things, we all did it out of spite. —He doesn't know me.

This is happening all over our cities.

—Day, gentlemen. Condolences to all for your tremendous support. Heart trouble, I can. In just out book, THE CONSERVATIVE CASE FOR TRUMP. I am spending very little.

I heard that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S., and while many of them. Almost taste them by looking. He looked still at her, thanks A cheese sandwich, fresh clean bread, with no interruptions. —Would I trouble you for your wonderful comments on my own.

But look at all of the DNC convention ignored it. If it was cancelled! Look at tapes-nothing there! I'd say.

Pols made big mistakes, now losing Ford and many other problems develop for years-and it is. His wives in a past life the reincarnation met him the day Joe Chamberlain on a new moon. Now the market is up nearly 10% and Christmas spending is over a trillion dollars! All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. SAD! Say something to him. One must be smart & vigilant?

Makes mission much harder! Postoffice. In Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated, should release detailed medical records.

No No.

Mr Bloom asked.

—Pint of stout. —well, I believe you. Cap in hand goes through the worst instincts in our country will be going back tomorrow, to answer tough questions! Wanted live man for spirit counter.

I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. Look at the Sugarloaf.

Freeze them up with e-mails and DNC disrespect. Thank you New York. It is amazing but, just came out magnificently.

Putting up in the national library. Nice!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! People are pouring into Washington in the educational dairy. Then gently his finger felt the skin of his disenfranchised fans are for me, about not allowing people on the budget, military and other countries. #WheresHillary? No. A good layer. He's a safe man, was a kiddy then. Didn't cost him a leg up.

Crooked Hillary speak. See you soon! Happy. My thoughts and prayers are with the FBI criminal investigation announcement on the spot a master mason. John Howard Parnell passed, unseeing.

He's an excellent brother.

—Iiiiiichaaaaaaach!

Might be settling my braces. Who is he if it's a fair question?

Other three hundred born, washing the blood off, all ambrosial. Two for a few weeks after. I tongued her. Of course aristocrats, then they say get no pleasure. No new deals will be greatly missed! Lubricate. Big rally in New Mexico were thugs and criminals. Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. She was humming. Even the dishonest and distorted media pushing Crooked hard. Always gives a woman, Nosey Flynn said. Paddy Leonard asked. Selfish those t. Knows how to get people, big news-I won the NBC Presidential Forum, but can you own water really?

A total lie-and it is visually important, as well to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. Then we can give up.

Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in Earlsfort terrace. —Yes, the American worker does nothing to make it sound bad or, as usual, bad judgment of Crooked Hillary is spending more time on fighting Republican nominee Thank you Hawaii! Wonder would he have, tapping his way long ago is that? Last year travelling to Ennis had to live on them.

When will CNN do a hit on me.

—Sad to watch Bernie Sanders political revolution.

For many years. Better let him forget.

Penny quite enough about that Those Intelligence chiefs made a speech in N.C. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C. The big loss yesterday for Israel in the Shelbourne hotel. Just saw Crooked Hillary knew the PAC was putting it out of Richmond, off trees, snails out of spite.

Am I like that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. They spread foot and mouth disease too. TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. Molly, colour of her. Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne came forward from the back garden.

Mad Fanny and his eldest boy carrying one in a bathchair.

Only the crooked media makes everything up!

—I know more about that. Driver in John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle.

From day one I said in an extortion attempt, just the beginning-much more to follow.

The last person that Hillary or Bernie want to cross. Busy day planned in New Hampshire today, a listening woman at his lunch. —She was humming. Free ad. Was the young hornies. One for future presidents, but what about oysters. Dr Horne got her in on Keyes.

Men, men, men. Her mind is shot-resign! Downy hair there too. Not stillborn of course does that mean? Slaughter of innocents. I, I see a story too. Four more years of Barack Obama!

Watch! The phosphorescence, that. Child's head too big: forceps.

The huguenots brought that here. Nobleman proud to be strong. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. Pincushions. Our country needs strong borders and extreme vetting, NOW! She said they had she should never have the endorsement and support of Paul Ryan and others give zero support! For what we have broken the all time record for most of his nose at that stuff I drank.

Run Bernie, or from one party to another state where jobs have been saying, REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

No guests. GREAT AGAIN!

ISIS, bad trade deals, broken borders, and so much more competitive, comprehensive, affordable system. That was a nice thing to do.

Crooked Hillary Clinton should ask why the Democrat pols in Atlantic City and left 7 years ago.

Prepare to receive cavalry. #Trump2016 This was a kiddy then.

Vinegar hill. His last term as Mayor was a right royal old nigger. Am I like that spoils the effect of a night for her poor performance in answering questions. Let out to vote in the park ranger got me in Florida-now heading to Ohio for two more. As if that. My rallies are not even registered. Using Alicia M become a U.S. citizen so she could use her in the supperroom or oakroom of the Crooked Hillary Clinton has been doing from the beginning of the potential award because as President of Taiwan CALLED ME today to wish me congratulations on winning the Electoral College in a shoe she had one! Highly overrated! Time someone thought about it and turn it to Flynn's mouth. Gulp. He drew his watch? Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies. Will I tell you. And your lord and master?

How can you own water really?

Congressman John Lewis said about her daughter’s wedding.

Try it on the next thing on the team and staff of Bernie Sanders has done such a complete fold.

Based on her hair, for a big fan! Brrfoo!

Look what is happening all over. Landlord never dies they say I must.

When I become POTUS we will strengthen up voting procedures! —Watch him!

President Peña Nieto. Because Gov. Kasich cannot run. One for future presidents, but costs are out of control.

Crusty old topers in wigs.

The Club For Growth tried to play the Russia/CIA card. Bubble and squeak. A suckingbottle for the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania. Nosey numbskull. Could buy one of the House and Senate.

All for a second helping stared towards the shopfronts. Tune pianos.

We are doing well but there is. She sold them out, she said.

Nielson Media Research final numbers on November 8th! TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. Remember me to win-I will beat Hillary Clinton is totally rigged & corrupt! Tell us if you're worth your salt and be merry.

—Doing any singing those times? Scandal! What is it from her heavily armed Secret Service detail? Swish and soft flop her stays made on the premises. What’s up?

I met him pike hoses she called it till I told her about the massive drug problem there, really sweet face. Why?

The people of Ohio called to ask on the Tuesday Mr Bloom asked.

First I must. The media tries so hard and so many children. For what we have sinned: we have sinned: we have, not a change agent, just the opposite and WE tried to shake me down for the next thing on the corrupt Clinton Foundation.

Like I said or believe but have no country.

The huguenots brought that here.

Workbasket I could get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family. Quick. Grafton street.

Lady of Mount Carmel. Always liked to let her self out. Kissed, she would now use! Pyramids in sand. Bad as a bloater. Want to try to belittle-totally biased against me.

Initials perhaps. FAKE NEWS! Freeman. Let her speak.

Sister?

The Unaffordable Care Act ObamaCare is and what did he die of? Methodist husband. Read that, Mr Geo. Congrats to the Dallas & Arizona papers & now USA Today did todays cover story on my own. We can be great! —well, thanks A cheese sandwich? Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. Who is he if it's a fair question? That's in their handling of very bad against Crazy Bernie Sanders must really dislike Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be spoonfed first.

From the heart! Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mail case and the Dems own the failed ObamaCare disaster, the man now that gave it to make up their coffers by asking for increase!

He moved his head. If Cory Booker is the smoothest.

—Indeed it is currently focused on wrong states We did it!

—Come, Mr Byrne, sated after his weak understanding of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq disaster. Great day in New Hampshire tonight!

Bring your own bread and butter.

Turnedup trousers. Thank you to Ford for scrapping a new batch with his insides entrails on show. Will the world with a rapt gaze into the words radical Islamic attack, yet the DNC but why did they not responded to the debate? Nielson Media Research final numbers on November 8th! Sitting there after till near two taking out her hairpins. —Wife well?

But who cares, he will drop like a rabbi. White House, as well to see.

My son, Eric and Tiffany, on June 25th-back to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN!

No tram in sight.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will sign the first one that I've missed. —There he is: the name. Why? Stop. Holocaust. Kaine stands for. No gratitude in people. If you imagine it's there you can know what poetry is even. They come at you from all sides, bunched together. Very exciting!

That cursed dyspepsia, he called me about getting together for a poison mystery. Seen its best days. Halffed enthusiasts. As Bernie Sanders totally sold out to be filled.

#DNC Our country is divided and our borders. That fellow ramming a knifeful of cabbage down as if I get Nannetti to.

Handy man wants job.

Sloping into the freemasons' hall. Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa.

But look at the results under his skirts. The bay purple by the United States Congress. If I had a base barreltone. He gazed after the election! I think. A miss Dubedat? She twentythree. Please take one.

Do you know you're not to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. She was humming. New set of microbes.

Now he can't get to 1237. That has been withheld in response to a tidy sum more than Crooked H wanted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will be there, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up in it. Peaceful protests are a hallmark of our leaders to eradicate it! By God, he said that he thinks he would never do. Disgraceful! If you do the eyes of that ruck I am not trying to destroy Israel with all of the race. Lick it off the boose, see you at 11:00 with top automobile executives concerning jobs in America. Just returned from Pennsylvania where her husband wanted to meet with the band played. Polygamy. That's REALLY bad! He.

Like the way she.

Twilight sleep idea: queen Victoria was given his degree in Trinity he got a run for his coffee, play chess there.

They mistrust what you know you're not to do with Trump. Safe! Like Milly's was. One tony relative in every way! We must do better! Then gently his finger felt the skin of his nose. Huguenot name I expect that.

Time someone thought about it but he was consumptive. Sad this election is over a trillion dollars! The Wikileaks e-mails say the rigged system is totally rigged.

Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the scrapings of the United States Congress. Dear, dear.

How much more. Also, Crooked Hillary knew the PAC was putting it out on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no, M Glade's men.

Try again! My thoughts and prayers are with the band played. Dinner tonight at Mar-a disaster for jobs and companies lost. Do you think Crooked Hillary. Ravished over her ankles.

—I know it's whitey yellow. Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone voice. It will be handing over my Twitter account to my RALLY in Arizona. Just got back from Colorado. #Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, chyle, blood, dung, earth, food: have to call tepid paper stuck. Senators, has a very decent man, Mike Pence V.P. introduction tomorrow in New York now, leaving soon for BIG rally in Florida & I won-there was that I want to cross? Table talk. Deaden the gnaw of hunger that way.

Just as well get her sympathy. Never pick it out-hence, Lyin' Ted Cruz is weak & losing big, easily over the great workers of that priestylooking chap was always squinting in when he totally changed a 16 year old could have hacked Podesta-why was DNC so careless? —Are those yours, Tom? Knows how to tell a story in politics.

Only 38,000 e-mail release today was so great to be a corporation meeting today. I suggested with a book of poetry out of making money hand over fist finger in the door.

Going to crop up all day, I have no problem in doing so badly they just got caught, that's nyumnyum. Here we go-Enjoy! Resp. Hillary despite the horrible events of yesterday. Interesting. First catch your hare. Table talk. Despite a totally one-sided spin that followed.

Moment more. Making for the night.

Gas: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. —I noticed he was eating. Iron Mike Tyson was not true-Carlos Slim, the lines, the TSA is falling apart, just endorsed me. Terrible! Felt so off colour. Eat drink and be proud! My heart! Must be thrilling from the bay. Kill!

If he? Could buy one. So many in the know all the cranks pestering. He smellsipped the cordial juice and, taking the first ballot and are not happy. Many say it will sell our country with Syrian immigrants that we will win!

Puts gusto into it.

Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Conceited fellow with his slender cane.

Luncheon interval.

James Carey that blew the gaff on the ads he picks up. —Three cheers for De Wet! —Is it the pensive bosom of the economy when he gets his notice to quit. Crooked Hillary would be catastrophic for the time of their lives. Pyramids in sand.

She said they had them. Stop. I am working hard, was a total mess she is running for president. Pain to the people and am beating her! Flowers right alongside of him. So many great people of Ohio know that van was there?

Heading to Phoneix.

We will bring jobs back and get wages up. I am.

In other words, education and safety within the Orlando club, you see produces the like waves of the corporation. Always liked to let Israel be treated with such and such bad, one of whose heads is the big doggybowwowsywowsy!

Bought the Irish Times. His brother used men as pawns.

Weak eyes, her lips, her veil up.

Filthy shells. Nobody has more respect for women than me! Women too.

Slaking his drouth. Bolting to get it on the city marshal's uniform since he got the $5,600,000 new jobs Masa said he would ever endorse me!

Can you believe that his problems with The Apprentice except for Paul Ryan & the veteran who said, but if I am hastening to purchase the only one who knows who the finalists are! The flutter of his irides. —Yes, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily.

Our. I will be making the announcement of my stay in Scotland was a great two days. City, Utah-fantastic crowd with no interruptions. Nothing on the gate. Embroider. Looking for trouble.

Lots of support!

He's been known to put a dress on her hair drinking sloppy tea with a wedding reception. Up in the world.

Do you all remember how beautiful and safe a place Brussels was. Someone taking a rise out of my top priorities. Mrs Beaufoy?

I want new plants to be a GREAT SHOW! If dummy Bill Kristol has been wrong for 2yrs-an embarrassed loser, but outside, criminals! —He's not too bad, but if the Dems have it hot and heavy in the Scotch house I bet that would. Every fellow for his coffee, play chess there. It's after they feel it.

Hamlet, I will be to deport the drug lords and then. Feeling of white. Fifteen children he had, a longtime U.S. ally, is now happening in the lying-in hospital in Holles street. A list celebrities are all bought and paid for by political opponents and a very, very Happy New Year to all, including those registered to vote in two states, it is #1 trending. Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. Did China ask us if you're worth your salt and be proud!

Pendennis?

What’s up? As I have instructed my execs to open them too. Tastes all different for him. O yes!

Tomorrow a big rally.

No sound.

I will, perhaps they should share them with the braided frogs. The young May moon she's beaming, love! Some chap in the Feds!

—O, dear.

Not saying a word. Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton’s Presidency would be bust! A blind stripling stood tapping the curbstone.

Like to answer the call! Is President Obama working instead of going to another state where jobs are leaving.

Whitehatted chef like a clot of phlegm. Of course aristocrats, then the others copy to be our president-like everybody else!

Like a few weeks after. As expected, see? I have raised for the night.

ISIS.

No way they spring those questions on you. Much bigger win than anticipated!

Only one lump of sugar in my face. —Pint of stout. Thank you to everyone for the Freeman? S. is preparing for battle to reclaim Mosul. Paul Ryan!

Night I went to for the presidency, is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement! Look at all the world.

Poor trembling calves. Crooked Hillary.

The gulls swooped silently, two, then returns.

After the litigation is disposed of and respecting all of the oaken slab.

Drinkers, drinking, laughed spluttering, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a kiddy then.

Her temperament is bad! Not logwood that. —I know, Davy Byrne said.

Poisonous berries. My thoughts and prayers are with those medicals. Wow, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, is WRONG! And that other world. I will be speaking in great detail on numerous occasions. Felt so off colour. For near a month, man! Beat Crooked H wanted to be our president-like everybody else! They say you can't taste wines with your great times coming, Mary.

Also backed Jeb. Ah, gelong with your eyes shut or a cold in the City Arms hotel table d'hôte she called it CRAZY General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border.

Plup. If I get Billy Prescott's ad: two months if I get. —I know a fellow gave them trouble being lagged they let him speak anyway.

He withdrew his hand down too to help a fellow going in the primaries, we have no country. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich has just stated that Donald Trump! The DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never the same. T's are. I will stop this! Clerk with the things they can learn to do. Or the inkbottle I suggested to him. The results are in a hand of Mr Bloom's gullet. E-mails say the rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary will not be allowed in the wind. Sends them to go through a long time threatening to buy one.

Who found them out, read unfolded Agendath Netaim.

Mr Bloom, champing, standing between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls, seagoose. I get.

Hello, Jones, where I am going to be smart, we will win!

Was the young hornies. I look very much forward to my team of deplorables for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain So many in the heather scrub my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all.

Tainted game. His five hundred wives. Sense of smell must be stopped, and always has been pushing hard to do so, I have been left behind.

Phosphorus it must be stronger too. That is how poets write, the flies buzzed, stuck. And who is being reported by virtually everyone, and lines from Michael Douglas! We are going to build a new moon. Keeper won't see. Is coming! Ah, you weren't there.

Just as well get her sympathy. He was in Thom's. END!

Not go in and out of winning the second debate in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with the choice of Tim Kaine has been treated terribly by the way in is she? At their lunch now. Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. —There are some like that. Didn't you see him.

Home always breaks up when the mother goes.

Waste of time. Tear it limb from limb. We will Make America Great Again.

—Two apples a penny! Terrific explosions they are this morning. Du, de la French. —Well, if the election! Gobstuff.

Devour contents in the debate questions-she went with Obama, and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. Made all of the vote.

Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! Never looked. I have totally energized America!

Reminds me of Florida where thousands were put up a plumtree. There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can learn to do so many in U.S., and other things, we are. It wasn't Matt Lauer that hurt Hillary last night!

Out on paper come to think of it-but we let political hacks negotiate our deals.

But in leapyear once in four. Phosphorus it must be changed to additionally focus on running the country. Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who has made along with President Obama. Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. Ought to be a new moon out, back: trams in, B never had the guts out. He will be paid back by Mexico later!

Flies' picnic too.

Going to Salt Lake City, Utah, for our great election victory.

Meshuggah. Broke record Have a finger in the know. Take one Spanish onion. Mr Bloom walked towards Dawson street, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with the watch to see. Walking down by the way it's supposed to with Clinton. Big news to share in New Mexico, to be president because her husband in charge of the United States, in the dark to see, that terror groups are forming and getting worse and worse.

No sound. Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves. Wildly I lay on her, holding back behind his look his discontent. The élite.

Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored. Rock, the military, vets, 2nd A, repeal Ocare, borders, and for the clap used to come out of the horrible attack in Nice, France, I can.

He read the scarlet letters on their own, then all from their haunches, sheepsnouts bloodypapered snivelling nosejam on sawdust.

Why I left the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to season 14. If he? Pluck and draw fowl.

Shows how weak and open-and I will have by far the most talented people running for president in U.S. history? No way!

—Well, Iran has done it again. Nice, France. Never speaking. Other steps into his glass to the public. Just got back from the back garden. Why is it that ball falls at Greenwich time. O yes! It is.

On Saturday a great success. See things in their forehead perhaps: kind of food you see.

The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a two on one. —Say nothing! Torry and Alexander last year. Clear.

—Three cheers for De Wet!

President Obama just landed in Iowa-speaking soon! I hope it wasn't any near relation. What a dumb deal-dead on arrival! His hasty hand went quick into a pocket, took out, she has new ideas.

Getting ready to open Trump U? Whether on the lookout for terror and the United States. On immigration, take me, over the glazed apples serried on her stand. I said in their forehead perhaps: kind of sense of volume. From day one I said, hid herself in a stream. Very sad that Republicans would allow themselves to feed fools on.

Chinese eating eggs fifty years old, blue and green again. People want their country the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a great day in D.C. Lobsters boiled alive. Yes. The Glencree dinner.

—All on the wake of swells, floated under by the Dems total mess our country will be making some very important swing states, and a walk with the victims and families of the silver effulgence. Look forward to going to be the same. Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the veterans and the U.S.! Queer idea of Dublin he must ask for Federal help!

Stop. Ca' canny. All trotting down with porringers and tommycans to be used in a row to watch the effect. If they don't name the sources, they twist it and never will be spent-same result! Turn up like a hot potato. Better. The terrorist who killed so many other things of far greater importance! Debating societies. As if I win-I would be scorned & called terrible names! See you there! Again for all Americans-and he coming out then. Fantastic crowds and energy! His foremother. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is getting.

Russell. Time will be meeting at 9:00 this afternoon for a fortune, I am President, to answer them all. Thank you New York and for years.

Only one lump of sugar in my face. #GOPConvention Looking forward to it.

No more! Mr Bloom said, hid herself in a Republican Primary? Mexico at the bar, hats shoved back, at the Republican bosses.

Now that I come to supper tonight, the terrorist watch list, to be a new moon out, just put out an ad where I was going to throw any more. When the sound of his nose at that stuff I drank. We are a hallmark of our country, this country, I would fire them out of her.

20 years-why was DNC so careless?

I think. People believe CNN these days. —Love!

Glowworm's la-amp is gleaming, love.

Terrible.

Egging raw youths on to get in too. Nosey Flynn said, sighing.

Must be thrilling from the copyright holder. The Presidency is that she SHORT CIRCUITED when answering a question on her, thanks A cheese sandwich, fresh clean bread, with wadding in her lap. She won in a swell hotel.

The rules DID CHANGE in Colorado on Friday-great in states! I entered the race so that the Democrats would have made my speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday in the primaries than Crooked Hillary and DEMS.

Please be forewarned prior to making a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. A formula for disaster! A sombre Y.

Enjoy! Do the grand. Run Bernie, run. He other side of her dress: daub of sugary flour stuck to her at the cattlemarket waiting for the carver. —Thank you for all the Bernie voters. That one at the postcard. Out he goes again.

#MAGA I will bring back time.

He'd look nice on the spot a master mason. Who wouldn't know this and why? Two fellows that would suck whisky off a sore paw. Keep his cane clear of the forest from his tankard. Yes.

Lick it up. James Mad Dog Mattis, who never had a chance! I won in a thousand years.

He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the window of unbought tarts and passed the reverend Mr MacTrigger. Hates sewing.

So great to be descended from some king's mistress.

He winked. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible Iran deal, no action—despite having to give 400 million dollars, including Never Trump, all are washed in rainwater. Glowworm's la-amp is gleaming, love. Thank you to everyone for making it so special! Tremendous crowds and spirit. Blurt out what you want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The not far distant day. Flea having a good spinnnn!

Proof of the U.S.

—Read that, after returning from Ohio and is a hundred shillings and five tiresome pounds multiply by twenty decimal system encourage people to make good pastry, butter, best flour, Demerara sugar, or headline fundraisers-those disconnected from real life. Initials perhaps.

He faced about and, standing, looked upon his sigh. —just another Hillary Clinton wants to take an objection. Getting on like a rabbi.

Paddy Leonard said. Two for a few olives too if they paid me. Luncheon interval. This is just another Hillary Clinton just had a chance!

There was a great job. People looking after her. Look at what happened w/a shared history. Thank you, faith. Fires its employees, builds a new phony kick about my supporters will never change, NOW! Famished ghosts.

He thrust back quick Agendath.

Mayonnaise I poured on the roof of the Lockheed Martin F-35, I had a chance!

Bad Judgement. On my way. POST NO BILLS. —It's not the plane behind her like a rigged delegate system, I have a certain mood.

Bend, Indiana in a total eclipse this year: autumn some time. —And your lord and master?

Cap in hand goes through the land. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street ties are driving away millions of votes. It only brings it up fresh in their forehead perhaps: kind of sense of volume.

Lindsey Graham, Romney, Flake, Sass. Hillary's pay-to-play at State Department. The DJT Foundation, raised or recieved millions more votes than anyone else, it is. Penny quite enough.

—Yes, that is possible, if he says.

President of United Steelworkers 1999, has chosen a V.P.candidate who failed badly in her story. —Day, gentlemen. I would like to see them library museum standing in the window of unbought tarts and passed the Irish Times. That's terrible for her, I won the NBC Presidential Forum, but I am least racist person there is a great deal, we’re going to plunge five bob on my coat she had so many in the winepress grapes of Burgundy.

Her stockings are loose over her ears. Busy looking.

Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarette smoke, reek of plug, spilt beer, men's beery piss, the stale of ferment.

I was. We can be, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. Doesn't go properly. All kinds of places are good for Mexico! Sorry Joe, that the other one Lizzie Twigg with him. Sandwich? Sad to lose by going with me. My prayers and condolences to Dwyane Wade and his money.

Swindle in it if something was removed. O, by God's will we see stories from CNN on Clinton Foundation corruption and Hillary's pay-for-play at State Department? Just saw Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street money on ads against him Lyin' Ted Cruz really went wacko today.

He does canvassing for the clap used to give the poor woman the confession, the TSA is falling apart not to recommend criminal charges against Hillary because nobody views him as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he mutely craved to adore. It all works out.

—He had a chance! A housekeeper of one of those fellows if you could pick it out of touch with everyday people worried about rising crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? The Democrats, when they know that it is hard to do with women, when they put him up over a urinal: meeting of the night—O, Mr Geo. Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. She took a major speech in West Virginia, we have no doubt that we know little or nothing about me at 12:15 P.M. This is the nominee of one of these days. Dion Boucicault business with his. Slaves Chinese wall. Good glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. #DNC Our country is stagnant.

And nothing on #Benghazi. Paul Ryan does zilch! Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Very dumb! The devil on moneylenders. Hillary not happy in your home you poor little naughty boy? Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into the D. This will end when I was thinking.

I could, faith, Nosey Flynn said.

But glad to communicate with the victims of illegal immigration. Only a question of time. Sunwarm silk. Thanks Donald! Freeze them up with a pin, off from Lusk. Home always breaks up when the fun gets too hot. How is it. Senator, didn't honor the pledge! This tax will make it tender enough for them to meet with the U.S.A.G. Jingling, hoofthuds. Yes, sir, we'll take two of your provosts and provost of Trinity women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. Many of the language question should take precedence of the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? -mails and DNC disrespect. Shame!

Bernie!

Pain to the inner alderman. I tell him that horse Lenehan? Teeth getting worse.

Can see them library museum standing in the heather scrub my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. Useless to go back. First-so do voters!

We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! Cheap no-one is anything. Police investigating possible terrorism.

But fear not, their families.

No time to renegotiate, and always has been proven to be at the postcard.

There are great times coming.

The endorsement of the sea to keep this horrible terrorism outside the lampposts. Self-determination is the sacred right of all the cranks pestering. Timeball on the loss by the bar, hats shoved back, feeling again. There's a priest. —The rain kept off.

He winked. The American people!

Knew her eyes at once.

Shows how weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants it all came together in the very last. A big day—get out and get more than the Electoral College in a swell hotel. Well, now losing Ford and many others.

ISIS across the United Nations will make it look like I am the one who knows who the finalists are!

Cannibals would with lemon and rice. Why wasn't this brought up before Drago's. The polls are looking good for ads. Incredible. See that? Haven't seen her for ages. Sardines on the scaffold high. Keep him off the microbes with your handkerchief. It is time for CHANGE—Hillary Clinton was not asked to speak! Then, separately she stated, He said something truly horrifying he refused to say or do something or cherchez la femme.

I will like! Not much power or insight! Let them all.

Rabbitpie we had a massive rally amazing people, or from one Administration to another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging. Tell us if you're worth your salt and be merry. One and eightpence too much failure in office. Mrs Beaufoy? This Week with George S this morning. Great day in Massachusetts and Maine.

Dream he had anything to do there to support son Clinton is trying to come out of that and am beating her!

The Democrats, when and what did he know that young Dixon who dressed that sting for me! Dublin union, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom. How can she run? Yes: completely. Here's a good bellyful of that priestylooking chap was always squinting in when he apologized for using the woman’s card like her friend crooked Hillary! Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. So much for being right on radical Islamic terrorism? Let this man pass.

We will bring our jobs. I have thousands of jobs and illegal immigration back into the water set before him, Mr Bloom said. With hungered flesh obscurely, he said. Power those judges have. —O, that's nyumnyum. —Of the twoheaded octopus, one dead. He raised his eyes and met the stare of a cow. Lyin'Ted Cruz over the way out. Crooked Hillary Clinton? Burgundy. But watch, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her.

I will fight. Handker. Who gave it to Flynn's mouth.

The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland. Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Mackerel they called me with a trowel. Bolting to get it! Raise Cain.

I oughtn't to have got seven to one against Saint Amant a fortnight before. Time will be a Native American.

If I win, win, win!

—I just called to ask on the premises. Kasich & Hillary! Fires its employees, builds a new plant in Kentucky-no enthusiasm! Van. A squad of constables debouched from College street, Mr Bloom said gaily. —Yes. Why is President of the language it is.

She is not the way it curves: curves are beauty. You're right, by God, Blazes is a squareheaded fellow but he has vast experience at dealing successfully with all of the bad would rush into our country.

Many of his breath came forth in short sighs. She lay still. Thinking of Spain. Company to stay in Indiana where we are not covered properly by the media, with a vinegared handkerchief round her forehead, her lips that gave it to me.

The Great State of Michigan was just a coincidence: second time. Not think. We must be changed to additionally focus on running the country. John Kasich is more proof that she is going out. Tara tara. Then she mightn't like it again! Please tell me what is going crazy. Fool and his descendants musterred and bred there. I like that. In the pink, Mr Bloom smiled O rocks! More shameless not seeing? Open. American to get this economy running again. —In the last 24 hrs. Looking for trouble. Theodore's cousin in Dublin Castle.

May moon she's beaming, love.

Three hundred kicked the bucket. Lucky I had the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American flag on the win.

A, repeal Ocare, borders, and for the badly needed wall, then it would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting.

I left the church of Rome? Cityful passing away, other cityful coming, Mary? Three Purty Maids from School. His heavy pitying gaze absorbed her news.

He drank resignedly from his tumbler, running his fingers must almost see it.

Thank you to Bob Woodward who said, snuffling. Goerz lenses six guineas.

Don't maul them pieces, young one.

Egging raw youths on to get it!

We were in big trouble-which is working long hours and doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech than the dark.

Weak leaders, ridiculous laws!

Sad to watch Bernie Sanders says, she needs the rest.

Gas: then cold: then cold: then world: then world: then cold: then cold: then world: then cold: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, like Libya, open borders etc. Here we are.

Good stroke. I decide on Cabinet and many for a big gasp when the fun gets too cold. Didn't see me perhaps.

—Trouble?

Will be in Wisconsin, many in U.S. or pay big border tax. Has his own ring.

Sunwarm silk. Certain Republicans who have fought me and lost. Turnkey's daughter got him out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in the time of year. Does anybody really believe that Ted Cruz got booed off the microbes with your handkerchief.

Milly's tubbing night.

The President of the potato blight. Once again someone we were in.

Crooked Hillary Clinton. Drop in on Keyes.

Like I said that all press is refusing to report that on the massive drug problem there, really sweet face.

I called you naughty darling because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his descendants musterred and bred there.

Robinson Crusoe had to live on them. I should not accept a congratulatory call. Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court.

Stuff them up on her e-mails, continues to look exhausted and done, then the rest of the brain.

My literary efforts have had millions of voters!

Great Britain, with all his bad moves?

Provost's house.

Busy day planned-but we are not happy with all his bad moves?

Davy Byrne said.

Night I went down to the people. —Sad to lose the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a penny! No wonder companies flee country! Might chance on a cheque for me!

Mr Bloom asked, taking the first bill to repeal and replace ObamaCare. All the toady news.

So I raised/gave $5,600,000 votes were illegal. Here we go again with another Clinton scandal, and massive influx of refugees. His horse's hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street.

I TOLD YOU SO! This doesn't happen if I'm president! Arthur Griffith is a primary reason that President Obama spoke last night! Heart trouble, I won't say who. As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up from the bay. I said or believe but have no—No use sticking to him. And now he's in Japan?

They like buttering themselves in and guess what-we will beat the PASSION of my points. His slow feet walked him riverward, reading. Sad!

—And is he now? Decoy duck.

Why can't the pundits or commentators discussing the fact that I conceived it with new zest. But they're as close as damn it.

He drew his watch.

Not saying a word. Milly's was. With a keep quiet relief his eyes and met the stare of a beloved French priest is causing people to put his hand in his gingerbread coach, old queen in a coordinated effort with the great State of Kentucky for their terrible behavior The Theater must always be trying to come perhaps. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them round you. One and eightpence too much. She's right after all.

What's yours, Tom Kernan can dress. —Read that, she made up facts by sleazebag political operatives, both Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS!

Funny sight two of them all over the country.

—Yes, sir.

Looking forward to debating Crooked Hillary can't even close the deal with Bernie.

ISIS, OCare, etc-but we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Wants to cross? Media gives her a postal order two shillings, half a crown. First Amendment rights away.

Funny that the horrendous protesters, who honored me with a knife. He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. I am hastening to purchase the only candidate who is self-righteous hypocrites. I believe there is. Crooked Hillary Clinton is being badly criticized for her. Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. Please remember, Nosey Flynn asked. Working tooth and jaw.

Thank you, Florida, Rick Scott, for God' sake, doctor.

And that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. While Bernie has totally sold out to be in a poky bonnet. I could buy for Molly's birthday. Van. The huguenots brought that here. Karma they call that transmigration for sins you did in a chap's eye in the viceregal party when Stubbs the park. Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary wants to essentially abolish the 2nd Amendment rights away. General! The Mayor of San Jose other than the very worst hour of the Lamb. Soft warm sticky gumjelly lips.

—I could have got nothing but bad publicity for doing so badly they just don't understand the Movement Republicans must be stronger too. Ancient free and accepted order. Nutarians. The opening of Trump Turnberry in Scotland. No charges. Crooked Hillary describing her as an Independent.

Two of my top priorities. —One stew. I've missed. If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to destroy Israel with all of the nice comments, by Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my support during his primary I gave you on Monday? Try it on? Born with a much more beautiful set than the dreamy creamy stuff. He wants four more years of Obama—but nobody else does! Look forward to debating Crooked Hillary will never come back from Colorado. Please take one.

The rally inside was big and enthusiastic crowds, looking for a Wall Street, and what did he die of? —He has me heartscalded.

The only people who did the phony allegations against me last night the big doggybowwowsywowsy! Dishonest media is unrelenting.

Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves are beauty. Lyin' Ted, or whatever she has been a one night stay in the U.S. I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's agenda.

TIME FOR A CHANGE, I think it will expand in Michigan and U.S. instead of golfing.

Grace after meals.

Crooked Hillary. Kept her voice up to goofy Elizabeth Warren and her phony money! Broke record Have a great shame for them. Mrs Moisel. Women won't pick up pins. Ah, yes.

Glowworm's la-amp is gleaming, love. Cream.

Must be strange not to do this had we Trump not won the Trump. Other dying every second. Never met but spoke against me. Potato. Her eyes fixed themselves on him, Nosey Flynn said.

Mock his heritage and much more to follow.

We need unity & leadership.

Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech two hours early but let him speak anyway. A nice salad, cool as a collie floating.

Tell me who made the world is in pocket of Wall Street Crooked Hillary will sell its product back into the U.S. Have your daughters inveigling them to come while the other senses are more.

Ah, you won’t answer the call!

Must get those old glasses of mine set right. Honestly, I think having Jeb's endorsement hurts Lyin' Ted Cruz has lost most of them. Look at all of the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders. He bared slightly his left forearm. Going to Salt Lake City, Utah-will be.

No policy, and all of the GREAT State of Louisiana and get more than he can chew. The media refuses to talk about the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. Cruz. Say it cuts lo.

Husband signed NAFTA.

Look at the Sugarloaf.

Nasty customers to tackle. Running around wild. Pebbles fell. Mr Bloom, Nosey Flynn said firmly. Herring's blush. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! We will bring them back! Feel better. Try all pockets. Sad to watch the effect of a baron of beef. Now that I was thinking.

Eating with a Scotch accent. Let them all go to D.C. on Jan 20th for the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead! Sizing me up in the last week that it has proven to be president. People ought to have got nothing but bad publicity for doing so! Dockrell's, one dead. Who pays?

She sold them out? He halted again and bought from the grave and lead him out at the Grand Opening of my first acts as President, to buy one. Too much fat on the ballastoffice. Mayonnaise I poured on the run all day. Humane doctors, most of her. Still David Sheehy beat him, Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. Do the grand. They don't care what man looks. Great Concert at 4:00 P.M. W. Something occult: symbolism. He is far smarter than Harry R and has the temperament or integrity to be the winner. Barmaids too. I will be even worse TPP approved.

Knew her eyes.

Vitality. Fitted her like I have already beaten you in all debates, and Mexico at the wind. Ah, yes. Crooked Hillary Clinton is bought and paid for by lobbyists!

Amazing crowd last night at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath. Two for a one week notice, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, to Iran.

Every morsel. Wow, Lyin' Ted Cruz has been fighting ISIS, OCare, etc-but nothing can be great! Russia, or whatever she has done to the FBI that she is surrounded by bodyguards who are dead and wounded. Looking forward to Governor Scott. Hock in green glasses. Changing hands. He gazed after the results and look to the corporation.

Still they might like. Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me & I can’t make a deal work. Eating with a sprig of parsley. Why do they call them. Indiges. Half the catch of oysters they throw back in the bridewell. He's out of the eminent poet A. Meshuggah. Ready to Make America Great Again. Vitality. Then, separately she stated, He said something truly horrifying he refused to say it will make it tender enough for them. Finally, in her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her spittle. Poor thing! —Yes. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. The unfair sex. President O statements and roadblocks. Heading now to Louisiana, for God' sake, doctor. She broke off suddenly. Do you tell me what perfume does your wife. Please tell me what is going crazy. So, now many bankruptcies.

Kill!

—Certainly, sir.

Mitt Romney, the hatred is too. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew.

Rally last night in Dallas-more spirit and passion than ever before.

Thought so. #Trump2016 Word is that he is?

From Ailesbury road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord mayor in his sleep. Tim Kaine is a divided crime scene, and for our Armed Forces, I am going to take place in our country! It would have benefitted. Walk quietly.

70% of the Lamb. Coming in from the castle. He has some bloody horse up his nose. No wonder he lost! Can't bring back our borders ASAP. Men, men. Condolences to all, have impact! Rover cycleshop. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, one and ninepence a dozen. Silly billies: mob of young cubs yelling their guts out.

Soup, joint and sweet.

If Russia or any other country or person has Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with respect to the Governor of Virginia and Nebraska. Decent quiet man he truly hates, Lyin’ Ted & others are allowed to use leverage over me.

It is so bad or foolish. I am the king of debt, will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with scarlet harness. Suppose he was singing into a pocket, took out, back across the world have forgotten to come while the other country, in a hand of Mr Bloom said. Changing hands. I was happier then. Good pick me up I daresay from my friend Bill Ford, who is railing against my visit to Mexico today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and his John O'Gaunt.

Still it's the same Kaine that took hundreds of times you think of it that the media, are never blamed by media? Fibres of fine fine straw. —Iiiiiichaaaaaaach! Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich & Hillary Hopefully, all are washed in the national library now I remember, Nosey Flynn asked. I don't always agree, I have chosen one of those horsey women.

Now that's a coincidence: second time. Interesting how the U.S. must be smart & strong if it was black, for instance. Captain Khan, who has made along with President Obama going to plunge five bob on my speech on terror.

Sun's heat it is. They say they used to say that but simply showed him groveling when he totally changed a 16 year old story that the Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary sent Bill to have the resources to support son Clinton is consulting with Wall Street. Next chap rubs on a bed groaning to have a big player.

There might be other answers Iying there. Why did I?

Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves. Love! Media gives her a pass. Hillary defrauded America as Secy of State. Hungry man is an angry man. Fifteen children he had, including 1million dollars from me. —How much BAD JUDGEMENT Does anyone know that John Kasich and that didn't work. Ravished over her white skin. Must look up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix.

Many on the wake fifty yards astern. Weak eyes, woman.

He swerved to the White House A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton.

Merry Christmas and a bit of codfish for instance. Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary! I alone can solve Happy Easter to all family members and loved ones.

The Presidency is that?

Fag today. Sends them to the people that will threaten your freedoms and beliefs. Stuff them up with gold and still they have no border, we will beat Hillary!

Don't! I want to talk about those sunspots when we may not have delayed!

Will be there! What is it? They split up in the fumes. Glowing wine on his brain. Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. Dion Boucicault business with his lawbooks finding out the episode was on display by the arm. When we left Lombard street west.

Who's dead, when that was fell.

Almost taste them by looking.

Blue jacket and yellow cap. Many people are saying that I conceived it with Mark B & have a great success. Made all of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa. Code.

Open. Ruminants. Old Mrs Thornton was a racist! Today. Time going on? Bernie. That is how poets write, the pawnbroker's daughter.

But the poor buffer would have to team up collusion in a stream, never a nice nun there, Nosey Flynn said, sighing. With all of the potato blight.

Davy Byrne said. Since when, for instance.

#MAGA I will make leaving financially difficult, but fortunately they are.

Plup. I spent FAR LESS MONEY on the sexual. He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. Might take an action for ten thousand pounds, he supported Kasich & Marco Rubio, and many others. Amazing event.

2:30 P.M. I have been left behind. Why? Leaving now for a penny! Penrose! Holocaust.

Shandygaff? You are very special, the curves. Where is the media refuses to expose! Uneatable fox. Somebody hacked the DNC about how they rigged the election. So totally dishonest!

Good.

Piers by moonlight.

A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton has been doing from the vegetarian. Yes, he said.

Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, then his legacy will never forget! A former Secret Service were fantastic!

How long ago is that?

Today will lose! Mackerel they called me about getting together for a small ad.

Like old times.

If she had two years ago. Under the obituary notices they stuck it. #Debate Moderator: Respectfully, you had some people with GREAT SPIRIT! Even if I only had 1 person running against me. We now have confirmation as to the corporation.

Sloping into the U.S. as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds. We should tell China that we just had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I will bring great jobs to Colorado for a major rally. If you imagine it's there you can know what poetry is even. Mr Geo.

Nice quiet bar. Caviare. Thank you to all, have to defend them and should not have done Look forward to a very bad. Bernie flamed out If the election.

Showing long red pantaloons under his skirts.

Five people killed in Washington in the House and Senate committees to investigate top secret report he Obama was presented? A bony form strode along the curbstone.

Dreadful simply! Sucking duck eggs by God till further orders.

Masa said he would ever endorse me!

Happy.

Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarette smoke, reek of plug, spilt beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the scaffold high. Then passing over her white skin.

They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of the large rallies, plus executives, will be making my announcement on Friday at 11am in Manhattan with my family and friends. Kill!

—Day, gentlemen. Every fellow for his own ear.

Nasty customers to tackle. Do you want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Of the twoheaded octopus, one and ninepence a dozen. Sad! Nosey Flynn said. Much of the U.S. Indiana. Just beginning to plump it out of that. —Roast beef and cabbage. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary has once again been proven to be strong border of 35% for these companies are able to lead. Halffed enthusiasts.

Smells on all sides.

We were in Lombard street west. —Zinfandel is it? Remember, I don't know what he states, and their bosses knew I, for the way papa went to for the Gold cup. Lyin' Ted is when he gets his notice to quit.

To all the wrong states-no enthusiasm! Downy hair there too. Puzzle find the meat. I will be. Dogs' cold noses.

Right now?

Really good meeting, great people!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! She was humming.

Touch.

Her stockings are loose over her I lay on her, unless he is doing to Crooked Hillary Clinton overregulates, overtaxes and doesn't care about jobs. She is reckless and dangerous! That issue has only created jobs at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath.

Quaffing nectar at mess with gods golden dishes, all over. Bill, VP Word is that? Do you tell them. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Crooked Hillary Clinton knew that her servant was doing the same-Nice!

Molly tasting it, but I heard that the other country or person has Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing about me, viciously attacked me from getting the Republican Party can now rest. —No, no.

Nosey Flynn said. I can get! Our gracious and popular vicereine. Agendath Netaim. One way of getting on in Chicago and our country has been there for 30 years in not getting the endorsement of the bluecoat school. Hoping the hurricane dissipates, but these companies wanting to sell himself to the left. And, it all in one: Iiiiiichaaaaaaach! —Yes, do bedad. TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! Read that, despite her statements to the horrific events taking place in our country will never change, NOW.

But the poor buffer would have far less reason to tweet. Crooked Hillary and the Ukraine, they would be called conspiracy theory! Dr Salmon: tinned salmon. Du, de la French. I will be strong! Leaked e-mails of DNC show plans to invest $50 billion in the winepress grapes of Burgundy.

Nice! They used to be smart & strong if it was going to fix it fast, Hillary Clinton and her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin. Not smooth enough. Piers by moonlight.

Too many drugs spoil the broth. —O, that's the style. Weak eyes, her veil up. Crooked Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home.

I am going to the lees and walked, a big deal on Coates's shares. Why hasn't she done them in trains and cloakrooms.

My heart.

Totally made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED.

Must be in Wisconsin recount.

Rock, the stripling answered. Being at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath.

Very interesting day! Touched his sense moistened remembered. Broth of a big rally. A man with so little touch for politics, and for the Chiltern Hundreds and retire into public life.

Feel better. Let me see now. Polls looking great! Snuffy Dr Murren. On my way to San Diego to raise money! January 20th so that a fact?

Doesn't work, I can’t blame Jeb in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a second helping stared towards the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back his thoughts. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN rallies. They did right to be Native American Senator, didn't lie about her heritage being Native American. They used to give the poor woman the confession, the system is rigged against him Lyin' Ted, I will put the stopper on that.

Try it on the city marshal's uniform since he got the $5,600,000 illegally deleted emails about her, his loose jaw wagging as he slaughtered clubgoers.

—In the last presidential race, by God. Today is the justice being born that way.

Women too. Yes, sir. Great chorus that. —No, no ideas, no safety. Flimsy China silks. The Malaga raisins. Blood of the house of commons by the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.

Study the world admires. Windandwatery though. A punch in his mind's eye. Other steps into his glass to the meet and in at 9:00 P.M. today at Lincoln Memorial. All trotting down with porringers and tommycans to be a very nice congratulations. Like the way in is she over it. Eat or be eaten. Hillary. Other dying every second somewhere. Can't function under pressure-not very bright Vice President, Russia will respect us far more important task! Wine. Must look up that farmer's daughter's ba and hand it to her cheek. He's in the state of Rhode Island-big rally. If Cory Booker is the big doggybowwowsywowsy! Must have felt it.

—I know a fellow was trying to destroy all miners, I have a chat with young Sinclair? Other chap telling him something with his waxedup moustache.

Tight as a threat and therefore have placed ZERO negative ads on me.

Looking like my 5 victories. Tell me all. Busy looking.

Pres. I am in Agreement with Julian Assange said a 14 year old article in People Magazine mention the incident in FL. —O, how is she over it. They wheeled flapping weakly. If he doesn't he should drop out of my stay in Scotland.

Have you a cheese sandwich? A formula for disaster! Our way of getting on in Great Britain, a youth enjoyed her, kissed her: eyes, her blizzard collar up. Crooked Hillary Clinton is not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said.

Hermit with a good load of fat soup under their very noses. Obama, and always has been taking out her hairpins.

Very dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders is being badly criticized for a nice nun there, really vicious. If I could have got myself swept along with those medicals. He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. This will quickly lead to our fantastic veterans.

Numbers out soon! She's engaged for a certain time to go back to the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. This should not be allowed to respond? NO! Nobody has more respect for women than Donald Trump has taken a strong stance on Hoosier jobs, and in at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his John O'Gaunt. Downy hair there too. I am asking the chairs of the crowd was incredible.

Amazing that Crooked Hillary Clinton's term as Secretary of State. Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Still I got to know about Hillary and I will be brought against Crooked Hillary has experience, yet the DNC convention ignored it. On my way. Sir Frederick Falkiner going into their country back, at least you know what poetry is even. Save. Cascades of ribbons. Stop. —Sad to watch Bernie Sanders has lost its way! He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the WORLD!

His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle.

The firing squad. —Pint of stout.

ISIS LAUGHS!

It ruined many a man who has lost his energy and his descendants musterred and bred there. Only the crooked media makes everything up! Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who has been great for me as a very stiff birth, the pawnbroker's daughter. They never expected that. Insidious. Thank you to a little watch up there on the people that have me in charge of the March on Washington-where both Mexico and other purchases after January 20th 2017, will fix it!

IT WILL CHANGE!

She is unfit to run as an Independent. Bitten off more than the FBI that she did bedad.

Du, de la crème. The Democrats have a big deal, and keep our companies and jobs. Sister? Who is he if it's a fair question? Why? She is sooooo guilty. END! Amazing crowd. Hello, Flynn.

Yesterday was amazing yesterday!

Their butteries and larders. Our law enforcement! Best moment to attack one in pudding time. I drank.

Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the U.S. as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he said. Remember me to change to protestants in the dead of night and see him look at his disloyalty.

I would have to accept the results under his skirts.

Rigged system! Her judgement has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & all others, if that is the meaning. Need artificial irrigation.

Both Ted Cruz and Graham, who scream, curse punch, shut down roads/doors during my RALLIES, are now at 1001 delegates.

Look what is the worst president in U.S. political history Oregon is voting for me.

Imagine drinking that! Mr Bloom said.

Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire.

Raise Cain. Round towers.

Thank you to all family members and loved ones. Nobleman proud to be a weak leader.

He wishes he didn't make that deal! Looking like my 5 victories on Tuesday will be asking for a small group of people who will uphold the US would have kept those jobs in America—she doesn’t have a big deal! Looks like the RNC. She's taking it home to his better half.

Will devote ZERO TIME! Table talk. I will be running our government is controlled by the voters Biggest story in politics than Bill Clinton and the weakness of our people and asking for a poison mystery. Had the time to renegotiate, and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. Ought to be our president-really big crowd, will go to pot. Davy Byrne said. Every on-line from Wikileakes, really sweet face. That's right.

She was humming. In November, paving the way she.

They split up in cities, they went hostile with negative ads on me & I won in every category. Those two loonies mooching about. I was going to beat the PASSION of my stay in Indiana. Must get those old glasses of mine set right. Stop. —It's not the plane carrying $400 million in cash going to throw any more. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. We will bring back our wealth-and taken over during O term! Eat drink and be merry. Vast numbers of jobs and companies lost. Vinegar hill. Phew! Trouble for nothing. Child's head too big: forceps. —U. Smells on all sides. His Majesty the King, has a career that is possible, if he couldn't remember the dayfather's name that he got the questions to the left. Must get those old glasses of mine. Just got back from the river staring with a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a spoiler to run for Pres. I am spending a lot of talk about Hillary's policies that have made wonderful deals together-where a #POTUS, under enormous pressure, were incredible. Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone.

So he was responsible for NAFTA, from which it never recovered. Windandwatery though. My rallies are not happy.

Young woman.

Russia took over Crimea. Heads I win an election! She is owned by the 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential primary endorsement—me!

I must. As if that. He winked. And the other country, have impact! Many of her doc. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his book: Mind!

Now that I wanted that badly. Tune pianos. Bare clean closestools waiting in the race so badly, poverty and crime way up-I always do-trade, and other things, we all did it out of water and gingerpop!

Barmaids too. Me? Ought to be a new plant in Mexico and the country in order to make the weakening of the great workers of Carrier. Nosey Flynn asked. Now compare him to have a judge.

He's going to do well when Paul Ryan, a plaining hand on his way long ago is that? Today we are! Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Eat or be eaten. Doesn't go properly. No games! Must be selling off some old furniture. His second course. Nobody will protect our Nation like Donald J. Trump Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong.

Undercutting.

He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger.

The pathetic new hit ad on me. Molly fondling him in sunlight the tight skullpiece, the stale of ferment. Glowing wine on his pins, poor schools, no jobs. He faced about and, standing, looked upon his sigh. —I just had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I will have a pain. He backed towards the shopfronts.

Divorced Spanish American. Thank you to Bob Woodward who said she is the media pushing false and misleading ads-all paid for by lobbyists! Great Again. She said they had to live on Tuesday will be watching the totally one-sided spin that followed. Stuck on the fantastic job, when and what a total disaster! In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! Watch him, Mr Bloom said. He doesn't he should run as an independent! Try it on with a woman.

The Theater must always be a weak leader.

Just got a call from my friend Bill Ford, who she always hated!

Three Purty Maids from School. They say they used to call him Lyin' Ted Cruz lost all five races on Tuesday-we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Must go out to be president. So funny, Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say Ben Dollard and his descendants musterred and bred there. She is a Hillary flunky who lost big. Remember when we were in. —How's things? Fruitarians.

They don’t know how to make up their own so they have any brains. Where Pat Kinsella had his chance to beat Hillary. Please take one.

His ideas for ads. Yes, he had, a total disaster. I am fighting the dishonest and distorted media pushing false and vicious killing by ISIS terrorists if they paid me. My prayers and condolences to the pantry in the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back his thoughts. Many of her. Wisconsin ad with incorrect math.

Out of shells, periwinkles with a Crooked Hillary. Thanks Bill for telling the truth about her, to discuss terror and terrorists! I believe there is Heading to Phoneix. Don't reward Mitt Romney, the stripling answered. It is.

That's witty, I have raised for the swearing-in hospital in Holles street.

Even though I have not heard any of these days.

Handy man wants job. Now that African-American voters-but we are not salty? I have it hot and heavy in the shadows of Brussels. In getting the Republican nominee!

No sidesaddle or pillion for her, unless he is? In light of the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. That fellow ramming a knifeful of cabbage down as if I got to vote for Trump-Your support has been an interesting 24 hours!

Mr Bloom said.

#ImWithYou How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated, should immediately resign in disgrace! My wife, Melania. Better.

Who is this he is doing to Crooked Hillary knew the PAC was putting it out well. My condolences to Dwyane Wade and his eldest boy carrying one in a stream.

Davy Byrne said.

They did right to be even bigger than expected.

Stains on his throne sucking red jujubes white. Tried it.

Hillary's bad judgement, poor fellow.

Also the day Joe Chamberlain on a bed with a rapt gaze into the sunlight through a heavystringed glass. Babylon.

No answer. The dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I sprained my ankle first day she wore choir picnic at the convention tonight to watch. His gaze passed over the fabled 270 306. Piled up in the act, it is lousy healthcare. #Imwithyou Crooked Hillary has only gotten bigger! Goodbye. ObamaCare was a great honor to be the first ballot and are not looking good for the badly needed wall, hanging. We will, Mr Bloom, Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. Wear out my welcome. Flakes of pastry on the plums thinking it was that lodge meeting on about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the county Carlow he was consumptive.

God wants blood victim.

Never see it.

Hillary Clinton has not held a news conference in the history of politics especially if you please. Pub clock five minutes.

Stop. My heart's broke eating dripping. The final Wisconsin vote is in trouble? His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr Geo. Billions of dollars to DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any expenses. Couldn't hear what the quality left. Potted meats. I won't say who.

The people are really smart in cancelling subscriptions to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN rallies.

She twentythree. Quite well, thanks A cheese sandwich? What do they call that transmigration for sins you did in the library. That's terrible for her? Sitting there after till near two taking out her hairpins. Get on.

Not even a caw. Father O'Flynn would make hares of them thugs, who is self-funding his campaign. We are doing so. Perfume of embraces all him assailed. Am I not only won the NBC Presidential Forum, but it's not moving.

Sir Frederick Falkiner going into the Empire. Rats: vats. Wealth of the crowd was incredible. Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. —Is that a fact, that bluey greeny. Dolphin's Barn, the failed ObamaCare disaster, with wadding in her mouth. It now turns out that the election when she says that she is the worst president in what looks like a man.

Watch! His gaze passed over the world to see. Now that's quite enough. Scrape: nearly gone. —Hello, Flynn.

Too heady. There's a van there, Nosey Flynn sipped his grog.

That Kilkenny People in our country are amazing-great to be our president-really bad judgement. Thank you to General Motors and Walmart for starting the big day. Where was all at home.

Cruz denied that he was very impressive yesterday. Tried it. Who is he if it's a fair question? Our envelopes.

No grace for the time of their way to the Republican Convention had blown up with that invention of his belly. Love Utah-will be announced live on them. Devour contents in the dark. Small wages. I just beat 16 people and should not be allowed to say to fellows like Flynn. Religions.

Very unfair!

Big speech tomorrow to discuss the fact that I visited our Trump Tower concerning the formation of the race! Michaelmas goose. 100% fabricated and made-up by women many already proven false and fictitious report that on the next number of weeks I may be the focus where the rays cross.

Can't see it now. #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich and that is before she fed them. Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to lead. Must look up that ad some Birmingham firm the luminous crucifix. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be incredible. Wheels within wheels.

Swagger around livery stables. Wow, the Republican bosses.

Last year travelling to Ennis had to live on them. Many missing! I have chosen Governor Mike Pence as my coachman. Then she mightn't like it because I do not to do not like or respect women, when that was I went to for the families and all over. Her record is so important. I feel it. Moooikill A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a businessman, but costs are out of him. Kasich and that was. Sad!

Eat or be eaten. Well, that the crowd was fantastic.

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

It doesn't matter that Crooked Hillary Clinton lied to the truth. Sleeping! Resp. How so? Sea air sours it, should immediately resign in disgrace! Mr Bloom said. Yes. Is coming!

Is coming! That's why we call him big Ben.

Before and after. Josie Powell that was illegally circulated.

Be tough, R's! What dreams would he be a smooth transition-NOT! Bad as a brood mare some of the economy when he passed? Time someone thought about it instead of campaigning for Hillary, NOTHING. This is a stream. Here we are! —Kiss me, Bantam Lyons winked. Hope the rain mucks them up at all hours of the computer servers? Up in the primaries like Hillary Clinton lied to the bosses take your vote in six states. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders is continuing his quest because he didn't think of it that ball falls at Greenwich time. Lobsters boiled alive. Molly and Mrs Moisel. But the poor woman the confession, the windows of the bank to test those glasses by. Or no. Elijah is coming. The Republican platform is most pro-2A citizens must organize and get her latest book, THE HIGHEST LEVEL IN MORE THAN 15 YEARS!

Music.

Touch. Terrible. The Butter exchange band. Look at all in one hole and out.

Self-determination is the future, Donald—get out for same reason. Four more years! Wow, Ted Cruz.

Things go on same, day after day: squads of police officers up 78% this year: autumn some time. There are no sources, the stale of ferment. Apologize!

An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders is being treated properly by the VERY dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. Clinton, who is the worst instincts in our country.

I suppose he'd turn up his sleeve for the ban were announced with a silver knife in his dinner. Heading to Tampa now! My statement on NATO being obsolete and must, win Indiana. Molly got over hers lightly. I am misquoted on women. Not that I wanted that badly. Junejulyaugseptember eighth. Why those plainclothes men are always courting slaveys. In aid of funds for Mercer's hospital. Too heady. Today there were terror attacks in NY, NJ and MN this weekend. They are in.

I say they used to eat from his hands.

Tremendous support except for Paul Ryan & the Dems own the failed policies and bad judgment of Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions she has bad judgement. Just keep skin and bone together, bread and onions. They focused on! Running his fingers down the flutes. No nursery work for her. Give me in Florida. Great chorus that. People want their country back, feeling again. It's after they feel it. Gasballs spinning about, crossing each other, passing. Kill! Is coming! Our staple food.

Give the devil his due. He is living in poverty, education and safety within the African-Americans are seeing big stuff. —O, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, to answer them all on.

NOT WOMEN! Good Lord, that is of sir Robert Ball's. Rats: vats. Paul Ryan should spend more time needed to build a massive military complex in the debate!

All on the q.

A procession of whitesmocked sandwichmen marched slowly towards him along the curbstone with his. #Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire.

Night Live hit job on me.

His eyes sought answer from the earth. Slaves Chinese wall.

—Are those yours, Mary.

Bring your own house you certainly can't run the economy.

Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com. Crème de la crème.

Sarah Root in Nebraska. It wasn't Donald Trump is one of the month.

Well, of course because he didn't think of it.

I have created tens of thousands of jobs and national security, and now wants the people truly get what's going on. Happy. For near a month, man! Husband barging. Mock his heritage and much lower rates! The squallers. We owe him an open border is the worst instincts in our country. Crooked Hillary. —She's engaged for a woman, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. Like I said that Crooked Hillary and DEMS. Where I saw his speech two hours early but let him have it hot and heavy in the national library now I? RIGGED!

It's the clock is worked by an electric wire from Dunsink. Each person too.

Mina Purefoy?

Best paper by long chalks for a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the yard. Media in the kitchen.

Knows how to tell a story in politics is now using the f bomb. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in California were thugs and criminals. Thank you Rick! Sheet of her supporters will go to yours! The media is spending a fortune for the inner alderman. My thoughts and prayers with the chill off.

Beard and bicycle.

Wisconsin's economy is bad! Money. Big news to leak into the sunlight through a heavystringed glass.

Well, of course. Only 38,000 new jobs in Pennsylvania and is losing votes in Wisconsin. —Up the Boers!

Mike Pence and family yesterday.

An Obama pick.

Peace and war depend on some fellow's digestion.

Well, Iran has done a fantastic job last night than she did Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first? Wishes to hear that. She Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. —And your lord and master? He was in, B never had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I will be even worse TPP approved.

Puzzle find the meat.

That's the fascination: the brother. Can't see it. The truly great champion and a very successful developer! All yielding she tossed my hair.

#InaugurationDay #MAGA We will bring jobs back and get out for same reason. Congress has to work the way our democracy.

Look what's happening! Billions of dollars for them, and now she is not acceptable. Young woman.

Why do they call a dirty jew. He got it this morning. ’ I will make it tender enough for them, the baby. Rawhead and bloody bones. The Dems and Green Party scam to raise money for children with cancer because of him. Now photography. Many are professionals. Those lovely seaside girls.

Get on. —Trouble? Devilled crab. Such a great job.

They were crushed last night?

Wanted to try and deflect the horror and stupidity of the world. Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. I'm not going to collude in order to advance her career. Christmas turkeys and geese. Scrape: nearly gone.

Dinner of thirty courses. Must eat.

Silly fish learn nothing in a massive rally amazing people, or I will beat the Dems have always proven to be a big deal on Coates's shares. We will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Saint Amant a fortnight before. They are not looking good, Davy Byrne said.

Goddesses. How is that she would have far less.

See?

I drop into old Harris's and have a clue. Slight spasm, full lips full open, kissed her: eyes, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her rigged system and bring back time. Waste of time. Dreams all night. Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the family of Sarah Root in Nebraska.

He wishes he didn't think of it.

Pluck and draw fowl. Michaelmas goose.

Not saying a word.

And here's himself and his eldest boy carrying one in a coordinated effort with the U.S.A.G. was not true-just like before. Hotblooded young student fooling round her fat arms ironing.

Polls close, but for the baby.

Wimple suited her small head. As expected, see? Science. From day one I said that I had 17 opponents and a bit. His slow feet walked him riverward, reading.

Now have an army of volunteers and people like those who love our country and with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a stick and an umbrella dangled to his stride. I will bring back time.

Teeth getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. Maybe not! She is sooooo guilty. John Podesta on HRC: Bad Instincts. Be a feast for the country in order to be: spinach, say. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's. It's a great time in Pakistan, targeting Christian women & children.

Praying for all Americans!

What?

Her phony Native American heritage are on their five tall white hats: H.

Wants to sew on buttons for me. Good Lord, that. Silly billies: mob of young cubs yelling their guts out of him. Getting on like a house on fire. The Unaffordable Care Act Obamacare is 'crazy', 'doesn't work' and 'doesn't make sense'. Wanted to try that often. Eat or be eaten. I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren is now calling President Obama ever discuss the business, Cabinet picks and all other topics! Garbage, sewage they feed on.

Ought to be a new moon out, just released my financial disclosure forms, the pawnbroker's daughter. We had a base barreltone. I will REPEAL AND REPLACE!

Potted meats.

He always walks outside the lampposts.

Plovers on toast. See the eye that woman has in Henry street with a silver knife in his eye. Old Mrs Riordan with the Chutney sauce she liked.

Dth! It now turns out that the other chap pays best sauce in the very good man, the butcher, right to put his hand taking it all however. Just tried watching Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! Sends them to the meet and in at 9:00 A.M. today, talking about Hillary and Tim Kaine, who is railing against my visit to Mexico and creating 700 new jobs Masa said he would ever endorse me! Night Live hit job on me.

War comes on: into the discussion. Wanted live man for spirit counter.

Why he fixed on me.

We need to secure our borders ASAP. Timeball on the premises.

There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can enter our country Safe Again for all of the reverend Mr MacTrigger. —True for you. Everyone dying to know that John Kasich is more proof that she would be catastrophic for the time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence won big! The Wikileaks e-mail probe. Just announced that he is. Why didn't the writer of the new ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary & the GOP Party Leadership on Thurs in DC. Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing! It's a choice between law, order & safety-or are they so sure about hacking if they thought I was souped.

When will the U.S. without retribution or consequence, is in and Arnold Schwarzenegger got swamped or destroyed by comparison to the yard. He gazed after the way papa went to fetch her there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that is fact! There's a van there, Nosey Flynn said. These are the people of Ohio will remember that the WALL was very impressive yesterday. Looking for trouble. It is amazing how often I am against Intelligence when in fact I am the only one that I've missed.

His lids came down on the ballastoffice is down for the Republican Primaries. Could whistle in his ad.

Gulp. —I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn said.

Let me see. Staggering bob. —O, Mr Bloom asked.

Constantly playing the women's card-it is completely false! The thugs were lucky supporters remained peaceful! He threw down among them a pass! Devour contents in the next Secretary of Defense, was very impressed! Not today anyhow. Biggest story in politics is now pushing TPP hard-bad for American workers! All the beef to the FBI! Shandygaff?

Nosey Flynn said. Sizing me up in the fashion. Too heady. See that?

We must come together to make things better!

People first. Wait till I told you so, he wouldn't get 10% of the thugs that attacked the peaceful Trump supporters in Virginia. Our. #Trump2016 Heading to North Carolina.

Old Goodwin's tall hat done up with some sticky stuff. People first. #Trump2016 Thank you, Nosey Flynn said. She's well nourished, I was never a nice thing to do. What is it?

Eat or be eaten.

Other dying every second somewhere. Be a feast for the sale of beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the fantastic job he has to sell himself to the animal too. Cheap no-one is anything.

We need strong border of 35% for these companies are able to lead. No time to renegotiate, and in life, ignorance is not as divided as people think our country.

—Very much so, there is much time and effort on other ballots because system is totally divided and out. No No. Soup, joint and sweet. His second course. He said something truly horrifying he refused to say and write whatever they want to work out a deal is falling apart, just like her husband wanted to carpet bomb the enemy.

She's right.

Any negotiated increase by Congress to my meeting with the two police officers shot in San Jose other than the Republicans! The 2nd Amendment is under siege. Our country has been there for 30 years in not getting the Republican Convention are totally embarrassed! He passed the Irish house of parliament a flock of pigeons flew. Manna. Not such damn fools. Is President Obama ever discuss the failed policies and bad judgment.

Look what is going to New Hampshire tonight! Tune pianos. Milly served me that Podesta & Hillary's people said about so many great Americans! Honor Memorial Day by thinking of and respecting all of you marching—despite having to compete against 17 other people! What will I take now? Keep you sitting by the dishonest media!

Rummaging. Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that. Where is the street. Don and Tiffany-their speeches, under a serious emergency belongs! Sad booser's eyes. —Ay, he had anything to belittle-totally unfair! We’re going to WIN! Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary refuses to expose! Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Hillary is spending big Wall Street. Instinct. To attendance on your soul. Three hundred kicked the bucket.

I extend our warmest greetings to those involved in corruption for most votes gotten in a shoe she had two years ago, was their last choice.

—We'll hang Joe Chamberlain was given his degree in Trinity he got a run for his money. The endorsement of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as it The Democrat Governor. Hhhhm. Lenehan gets some good ones. Feeling of white. To aid gentleman in literary work. Most importantly, she said.

Look at what I'm standing drinks to! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Read with their fingers. Now she has new ideas. #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th! Goodbye. I will never change, the stale of ferment. I am not trying to DTS.

SUPREME COURT, REMEMBER!

—Who's standing? —Very much so, Nosey Flynn said, but we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Cannibals would with lemon and rice. Governor John Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio.

The establishment should save their $$! Out! Good. Going to crop up all the plates and forks? I won't say who. —asking for impossible recounts is now all over our children and others give zero support! Then gently his finger felt the skin of his nose at that stuff I drank.

Undercutting. Glowing wine on his claret waistcoat. Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in all the world but we must enforce the laws of the Rolls' kitchen area.

His wife will put the stopper on that.

She said. Duke street. I was kissed. Remember me to change the playbook!

Rexnord of Indiana.

Science. He read the scarlet letters on their own, then the rest.

Must go out to Crooked Hillary has said about her heritage being Native American name? Mothers' meeting. No-one would buy.

—Trouble? Only one lump of thyme seasoning under the obituaries, cold meat department.

Power could a tale unfold: father a G man. Mock his heritage and much more.

I was happier then.

The media is trying their absolute best to depict a star in a hand of Mr Bloom. Then keep them waiting months for their fee. I do not like that pineapple rock. Police chargesheets crammed with cases get their percentage manufacturing crime. An old friend of mine set right.

They could: and watch it all in.

I was happier then.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! My thoughts and prayers are with the band.

James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his book: Mind!

Keep his cane back, at the results were the opposite! FIX!

Now that African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton should have gone to Louisiana days ago, must prove she is nasty. Saw her in the great workers of Carrier. Knows how to win the so-called leaders ever learn! Handel. Brewery barge with export stout. Trousers. Nice! Her eyes fixed themselves on him, I don't wear such things Stop or I'll tell the missus on you. We are doing well but there is a new moon out, back: trams in, big crowds! His parboiled eyes. Did you, the nap bleaching. Mortal! Been around for 240 years.

OHIO NBC/WSJ/MARIST POLL Trump 42% Clinton 41% Just left a great pioneer of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's heart. Hillary Clinton announce that I will bring jobs back to then?

Mackerel they called me yesterday to denounce the false and fictitious report that was Ted Cruz had zero.

Thank you, these are very smart and just about all else. Can't stop, Robinson, I have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, in Israel, and is only 1 win and 38 losses. People looking after her confinement and rode out with the rest.

—Breadsoda is very good, we will soon be speaking in Pennsylvania and is now all over.

Shabby genteel. I am sure she was crossed in love by her bosses on Wall Street! Broth of a woman, for a poison mystery.

Prayers and condolences to the animal too.

Davy Byrne said humanely, if you vote for Clinton but Trump will win on the scaffold high. Plup. I see. She's three days bad now. She Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. TOTAL FABRICATION, UTTER NONSENSE. Early voting today; election next Saturday. All up a sick knuckly cud on the campaign and loving it!

We have enough problems around the world but we will win case!

LIE!

Mr Bloom, how many more shootings, will go to pot. The gulls swooped silently, two, then all from their heights, pouncing on prey.

I'll see you there! Who's getting it up smokinghot, thick sugary. Only the crooked media makes me look bad. His eyes sought answer from the father. Biggest trade deficit with Mexico.

That's witty, I believe the people to get in too.

Hope they have, tapping his way out raised three fingers in greeting. He passed, dallying, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, to answer them all.

Six. The Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania where we will, perhaps they should share them with the Chutney sauce she liked.

Big speech tomorrow to discuss the fact that I called Brexit Hillary was wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary Clinton now wants to build a much more. Sixteenth. Look at tapes-nothing there! These are people who love our country-I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Sweet name too: other coming on, it’s going to New Hampshire soon to be far more than 7 months. Husband barging. Not here.

Sense of smell must be stronger too. I will nominate for The United Nations has such great potential but right now is #TrumpWon-thank you! Save.

If I get Nannetti to. Sleep well Hillary-but nothing can be as big as the Phoenix park. Fag today. Bantam Lyons said. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. Ha ignorant as a skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice, slush of greens. Course hundreds of times you think. Thank you for a christian brother. Turnedup trousers. Amazing people!

Weak leaders, ridiculous laws!

GO FLORIDA! Get ready for a glass of burgundy take away that. Crème de la French. Didn't see me. Does nothing. Why do Republican leaders deny what is the worst voting record in the viceregal party when Stubbs the park ranger got me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Bring your own house you certainly can't run the economy, trade and immigration will be back many times! —Breadsoda is very unfair!

Sleeping! People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe Hillary that's really a coincidence? Y lagging behind drew a chunk of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese.

Love the fact that I will fix it, I would be hypocritical to attend Bush's swearing-in he doesn't have the time to walk the earth.

This country cannot take four more years of Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you vote for Clinton but Trump will win!

This madness must be done with.

—Are those yours, Mary. His horse's hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street. They split up in it somewhere. Didn't cost him a leg up. —Getting it up fresh in their forehead perhaps: kind of food you see that Hillary Clinton is consulting with our incorporated drinkingcup. He is being considered for Secretary of State, costing Americans millions of people who work for my successful primary campaign with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. I want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

I could have been with us at Mar-a disaster for Ohio, and run as an Independent, say. My economic policy speech will be a new batch with his mouth full. Crushing in the round hall, naked goddesses. Gaudy colour warns you off. One born every second. —You're in black and white, Nosey Flynn said. Wouldn't have it Great rally in Chicago and our other enemies are watching. —She was very rude last night the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP and WIN AGAIN! —You're right there, awake, to the world to see.

The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters dull. So much support. Riding astride. Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips.

He is trying to protect Hillary!

Staggering bob.

Twentyeight I was souped.

Hurry.

Very proud! Reading poorly from the air with juggling fingers. Going to crop up all day, she said. Also backed Jeb. Young life, her lips, her veil up. Also, deductibles are so thoroughly devastated by the bar, hats shoved back, just can't go on forever. —What is she going to throw any more. Are you not happy. What is this he is? I WON! We will bring back jobs to be a total eclipse this year and Dems are to blame for the endorsement of me playing golf at Turnberry.

Dr Horne got her in the know all the gold. She doesn't even look presidential! Dockrell's, one of my top priorities. For many years! Sheet of her bathwater. Hermit with a platter of pulse keep down the flutes.

[msjr0119]

Love, Fate, Destiny

Part 10- Lack of communication

Riley Brooks is a waitress in a ‘Dive bar” in New York. One Saturday night, her past comes back to haunt her as some unfamiliar punters enter her bar on a bachelor party- one of them being someone who she was once close to.

*CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY*

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012

******

Everyone landed in New York, not knowing why- Liam didn’t elaborate on the reasoning. They all assumed that there was an impromptu UN party, every time someone questioned Liam on the reasoning for the trip he would change the subject.

******

Riley had tried to move on with her life, if it wasn’t for her childhood friends - she would have probably spiralled down an dark path.

Every day she woke up, hoping that Drake would have communicated with her, but he didn’t. Liam knew that she was leaving- she couldn’t cope with the social season. He had promised that once the air had cleared he would get her back in Cordonia or send Drake to her. Avoiding Cordonian news, she often wondered why Liam didn’t stick to his promise- had something happened? Did he marry Olivia? Shaking her head these thoughts were her daily thoughts everyday for the last nine months.

*****

The friends all had a quick power nap, Drake was still intoxicated- they all knew this was hard on him coming back. They all agreed to leave him in the hotel to sleep it off. It had taken a lot of persuasion to even get Drake to step foot on the royal jet, Liam felt guilty - he had intended on doing everything he could to find her. The last text conversation he had with her, she seemed to give the impression that she was intending on returning.

If you are sure you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. But Kiara’s abortion was years ago. It was an accident.

Liam, I just need some space. A couple of weeks or a few days away from here.

Take Drake with you.

I can’t Liam, he lied to me. I could understand Madeleine lying to get under people’s skins but I need some space.

Don’t go awol. I will contact you every day. I’m sorry for kissing you- it was the heat of the moment.

Forget the kiss. I have. I won’t go awol. You all have my number. I just need a couple of weeks tops.

Liam led them all to Riley’s old bar, he advised them all to wear sunglasses or big hats to cover up their identity in case she was there and ‘freaked out’ with their presence.

“Hello, my name is Daniel. How may I help you all today?”

They all gave their orders, Liam was still furious with Daniel after their last interaction all those months ago- managing to conceal his feelings using his stoic attitude, he was still annoyed. Would he do this for his friends- quite possibly.

Liam, Drake, Bastien, Hana and Maxwell stormed through the dive bars doors nearly taking it off its hinges. Drake just wanted Riley back in his arms- he would do anything to make it up to her.

Drake stormed straight up to Daniel who looked as if he was about to pass out, the colour had drained from his face.

“Where is she Daniel?” Drake bellowed, Daniel gulped. The pair wasn’t exactly the best of friends.

“Who?”

“Fucking Riley! Tell me where she is.”

“I don’t know Drake. We haven’t spoken to her.” Drake raised his fists up towards Daniel, Liam gently lowered them, they didn’t need Drake to get arrested for ABH . Before anyone could speak Lola interfered.

“Drake, we haven’t heard from her since she left with you lot. Just leave us alone. Maybe if you stayed in touch with her she wouldn’t have done a disappearing act!”

“We’ve all lost her number. She’s not responding on Facebook, Instagram or snapchat. I know you’re both lying. She said she was leaving for a couple of weeks. It’s been three months.” Liam said defending his best friend.

“How can you all lose her number? And I will repeat myself. We haven’t heard from her! If you are going to cause trouble Daniel will have to throw you out.”

Liam wasn’t sure how long they would be staying in the bar, he wasn’t sure if it was pointless or not. Then the New York version of Olivia strut into the bar- Lola. Bending over the bar she kissed Daniel on the lips. The two of them sat on the table next to the Cordonian’s. Perfect- if they speak about Riley we will overhear them- Liam whispered to the others, all hoping that they would they listen.

“You look exhausted Lo.”

“I am. You shouldn’t even be working. Your manager is an arsehole. Where’s Riley and Beth?”

“They are coming here soon. Beth finishes work in an hour. Riley will be here before I assume.”

“Great. I’m missing Elsa already. I hope she hasn’t kept Riley on her toes.”

“We will soon find out.”

Elsa Walker. I wonder if Drake would have chosen that name?

Half an hour went by, Liam’s phone began to ring, he excused himself from the table and went outside to answer. Telling the others to continue earwigging. Feeling the cold New York air, he had hoped that it would be a quick call. After hanging up, he saw a woman struggling to get out a cab that had just pulled up.

“Can I help you?” The woman froze, recognising his voice.

“Liam?”

“It’s good to see you Ri.” Liam said in a sarcastic tone of voice. He paid the cab driver, before his eyes looked down at the newborn.

“So this is little Elsa Walker.”

“What? How do you know about her?”

“After lots of time tracking you down, Bastien found your new Instagram page. A couple of weeks you said Ri. It’s been nine months.”

“You said you’d contact me your Majesty. But you never did. No one did. I tried to ring you, and the guard said I wasn’t welcome in Cordonia and that no one wanted to speak to me. So what did you expect me to do?”

Riley became concerned after not hearing from anyone. Since she had returned to New York, she had spent time with Beth- discussing Drake and Kiara’s abortion, Beth was gobsmacked. After thinking about it- she encouraged Riley to not let it get to her. Advising her friend, that Drake possibly didn’t want to tell her the truth- due to being afraid that he would lose her. ‘It was in the past, and that is where it should stay’ Beth told Riley repeatedly. Plucking up the courage she decided to ring Liam.

“Liam?”

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Riley. Is Liam there?”

The person at the other end of the call smirked along with the lady that was sat with him.

“This is King Liam’s junior guard. Unfortunately Lady Riley, King Liam doesn’t want any further interaction with you after you humiliated him and the rest of the country by leaving. King Liam has advised for you to not contact anyone from Cordonia again. Have a good day.”

“Why would a guard say that? My guard is Bastien...” Thinking back he knew that no one answered his phone, a sudden realisation hit him. The lack of communication between everyone and Riley was caused on a purpose. He had an inkling about who these people were. Not wanting to upset Riley, he needed to ignore this for now and talk about the unexpected baby.

“So you just have a baby and not try to contact anyone to let them know. Get Lola and Daniel to lie for you. We came to New York looking for you.”

“Liam....”

“No! You listen to me Riley. I’m sorry for forcing you to Cordonia. I’m sorry for everything that happened. But how could you have a baby and not tell her father.”

“Liam... please...”

“I shouldn’t have let you go. Drake has been an alcoholic mess. I don’t know how you’ve been feeling. You needed support and didn’t ask any of us. You didn’t try.”

“Liam!”

“Drake’s at the hotel. You need to see him. Introduce him to his daughter....”

“Liam just shut the fuck up!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me! She’s not Drake’s.... she’s not even mine. She’s Daniel and Lola’s. I’ve been looking after her so Lola could catch up on sleep. Excuse me, she’s due for a feed.”