#gladstone is like if a man and a woman had a baby (has everything working for him naturally but becomes a damsel in distress so easily) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b0sscrew · 4 years

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Pokemon au!

Another Ducktales AU! Shocker!

Welcome to the inevitable crossover! There are three versions of this (trainers, human trainers, and reverse gejinka) but we'll just focus on the human trainers first because I'm not comfortable with showing my Ducktales drawings yet! This is just for fun and not definitive. I'm going to be doing this like a real adventure! We'll be following the triplets as they travel the region of... Americaw... Sure, we'll go with that for now.

I want this to be a story in many parts. I also want all their adventures from the cannon to be here as well, except it's just the kids facing them most times. Like let's say all the battles are monsters and baddies they've actually fought in cannon. That would be fun!

Oh, let's bring characters into the mix. Let's say that Webby is the boys' rival and best friend. Violet is also their rival but on a slightly lesser scale(mostly to Huey). Boyd also becomes a rival of sort later on(mostly for Louie). So that only leaves Dewey, and to be honest, I'm not sure. I think Webby would be his biggest rival but he doesn't have a secondary rival. I might just make my own rival for him too be honest, but I wish I knew who to put that's around his age. (Also, I realize Boyd is Huey's best friend but Violet is literally his rival in an episode.) I already have an idea for Lena so I can't add her to the rival crew anyways.

Let's talk about the Duck family.

So I decided it would make the most sense if Della and Donald shared custody of the boys. Donald is still Uncle Donald, don't worry. But since Della is always busy with the league they decided it would be easier to just have them both raise the boys. Donald is basically a stay at home dad while Della is constantly working as one of the core members of the elite four. Della is a flying type expert and Scrooge's favorite relative.

Feathery is an amazing boy! He's constantly working with the elite four as the Regions main professor. He's so excited about all pokemon, but his favorite are water types, because they make him giggle like a little kid. He's Huey's favorite uncle and the only adult he can truly relate to. Feathery is still the biggest sweetheart but now everyone takes him seriously and hang on his every word, even if he doesn't realize it.

Gladstone is one of the sole reasons the champion is still the champion. Because of his luck no one has gotten past him and his grass types. If he didn't have his luck people wouldn't have this issue, but he's cursed with it so he literally can't lose. Of course every Pokemon he has ever caught has been a shiny because they seem to gravitate towards him. The only time he can't find one is when he wants to give one to his family. I guess that's just his luck.

Scrooge McDuck, the richest duck in the world. Despite being part of the elite four, he doesn't really have to do anything. Since he's challenged after Gladstone his battles are few and far between. So he began running his company's full time. Although he does have to leave his work to protect the region at least once every two week. He is the most loved of the elite four and also the most hated, with all his enemies. Good thing he's the best of the league.

Region time!

So, Americaw is based off the world of Ducktales and all the places they've been to by the time of the season three hiatus. I also decided you can find any pokemon in this region (even if characters share pokemon sO MaNY TIMES!), and some come earlier than we're used to. Most of the region is mostly forests with ruins but later on is more of the places we know and love, victory road and the league is even one of my favorite places in the entire series.

Gym leaders, baby.

Gym leaders are characters that are associated with the McDuck clan, mostly working for them in some way. I also tried to put a twist on everything and some of the gyms are ones you wouldn't expect for that character. Let's go over them real quick, shall we?

Owlson, the Normal type gym leader. I thought she was perfect for this because she does technically work for Scrooge now. There's nothing too special about her except that she really wants things to go right and she doesn't have room for silly things. I thought she would be fun as a first gym so the kids could get a taste of the adventure ahead of them. She uses a Hoothoot (to harken to her being an owl) named Natasha, and she has a Porygon (to harken to her being a buisness woman) named Charity.

Ludwig Von Drake, the Poison gym leader! As goofy as the man is he is very competitive. He works with Gyro and Fenton on many projects but has his own lab away from them. I think he works the best for poison because than he could be more of a chemist than the other two scientists. He's also the gym leader we see the least of. He's always in a rush to finish his project just to get on the next one thats probably even more dangerous. He uses a Grimmer (chemicals) named Paul, and a Toxel (science in general) named Corey. He also has a Rotom, named Walker, that just helps around the lab.

Fenton, the Steel gym leader. Since fenton is a superhero I thought he could take his typing from Gizmoduck. He's the main one out of the three scientists that makes weapons and items for the police force. The military forces also thank him very frequently. But since he has so many idea's there's no way for him to do them all. He usually overworks himself because of this and it's obvious to anyone who so much as looks at him. Even so he is the most optimistic of the gym leaders and goes nowhere without a smile. He uses a Pawniard (Gizmoduck) named Hero, an Aron (Robots) named named Titanium, and a Scizor (Gizmoduck strength) named Bromine.

Gyro, the electric gym leader. I thought Gyro fit best with electric because of presumably obvious reasons. Gyro is the wildcard of the three scientists and will do anything for science. He can't count how many times he's almost accidentally killed himself with an experiment. He might seem like he's the only one that slows down out of the three scientists, but you're dead wrong. He probably works the hardest and has the most unhealthy habits out of all of them. He's the best scientist in the region and refuses to give the spot up for anything. He's currently trying to find a way to turn his blood into coffee. He's as brutally honest as ever, and still full of himself, but will admit defeat. He uses a Magneton (robots) named Maggie, a Rotom (Lil' Bulb) named Tom, and a Vicavolt (robots) named Vic.

Duckworth, the ghost gym leader. He might be a ghost but that just makes him better at his job. He's extremely neat and gets annoyed if a picture is tilted. He doesn't hesitate to greet challengers with a smile and even give them tips during battle. When he looses he still acts like a gentleman. He loves his work and refuses to leave life without "good reason". He uses a Gengar (his demon form) named Káge, a Banette (being able to poses things) named Mary, a Polteageist (because he's fancy) named Green, and a Mismagius (just because he's a ghost) named Lady.

Lena, the psychic gym leader. I told you she had a job. But I also know this typing might not seem like it fits. But trust me, it does. Her magic is what I imagine when a pokemon is Psychic type, so I thought it was perfect. She's rough around the edges when you first meet her but she grows on you once you get to know her. She's loyal to her friend's and already knows the kids once they get to her gym. I believe she is the only one that doesn't work for Scrooge in the cannon. She's basically the same she was in the show. She uses a Hypno (dreams) named Dreamcatcher, a Hatterene (being trapped by magica) named Princess, an Espeon (her necklace) named Garnet, and a Lunatone (the eclipse) named Lunar.

Launchpad, the dragon gym leader. Plot twist! Let me explain before you start yelling at me. I wanted Della to be the flying type specialist, so I had to do something else for Launchpad. It took me forever to figure out what to give him, I even considered the option of repeating flying, before I finally remembered dragon. It hit me that it was perfect! The dragon type embodies everything he loves. Flying? Boom, dragons fly! Superheros? There's a dragon that looks like it was made for a superhero. Airplanes? There's plenty of those. Acting like a child? How about one that looks like a child's imaginary friend! The list goes on! The dragon type was perfect because it's so loose. Anyways, back on track. He uses an Altaria (clouds) named Fluff, a Salamance (superheros) named Comic, a Noivern (DW) named DW, a Flapple (childish) named Flapper, a Drakloak (Sunchaser/Cloudslayer) named Sunchaser, and a Duraludon (vehicals) named Crash.

Ms. Beakly, the dark gym leader. She's a freaking spy, of course she's dark type. She's the hardest gym to beat, even for final gyms. She's tactical and knows (almost) every trick in the book. She'll point out what you're doing wrong and still beat you if you do everything right. She doesn't go easy on anyone so you better be prepared. Despite all of this she is one of the kindest people you will ever meet. When you loose to her she has a plate of cookies for you to take with you when you leave, and if you beat her she gives you an item that'll help you the most with the league, plus cookies for your travels. She loves Webby so much, enough to teach her almost all of her tricks. She's a good woman. She uses a Tyranitar (strength) named Tyrone, a Pangoro (capabilities) named Gordy, a Grimmsnarl (I just thought it fit) named Grimm, a Malamar (that expression) named Mal, and a Honchkrow (spy) named Krow.

I love this idea and can't wait to expand apon it. I alread have so many ideas that it's hard to not spoil any plans I have. I just hope I don't overdue it. I want it to kinda be like a little more serious version of the pokemon anime. Not too serious, but I want it to be like what you'd find in ducktales (just maybe a tiny bit less kid friendly).

Well I hope you enjoy my idea and have fun with it. Well anyways, have a great day!

Also, here's a picture of the HDLW designs.

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poetlcs · 4 years

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books I’ve read in 2020 (so far) + their ratings

non-fiction

crossing the line: australia’s secret history in the timor sea by kim mcgrath: important research into australia’s theft of oil in timor leste. didn’t rate

hood feminism: notes from the women that a movement forgot by mikki kendall: essay collection dissecting modern feminism, pointing out the exclusionary practices of mainstream feminism and offering new frameworks through which feminism should operate. really recommend. didn’t rate

the uninhabitable earth: life after warming by david wallace-wells: good introduction to environmentalism and the climate disaster. a little too introductory for me but good for those new to the topic. ★★★

homo deus: a brief history of tomorrow by yuval noah harari: it is simply not Sapiens nor as good as Sapiens. Looks at potentials for our future but, thought it was a little poorly researched. Some parts were still interesting though. ★★★

SPQR: a history of ancient rome by mary beard: a little dense at times, but super interesting and detailed look at ancient rome. enjoyed it a lot. ★★★★

sister outsider by audre lorde: collection of audre lorde’s essays and speeches, about feminism, lesbianism, the queer community, being Black and a lesbian ect ect. outstanding, important collection anyone interested in intersectional feminism must read. ★★★★★

all boys aren’t blue by george m. johnson: memoir about johnson’s experiences growing up as a Black gay boy in a poor neighbourhood. Very poignant memoir, written in such accessible language which I liked. guarenteed to get you emotional, another one everyone should read. didn’t rate because it’s so highly personal that felt wrong but highly recommend.

under a biliari tree i born by alice biari smith: memoir by an Aboriginal Australian detailing her life growing up learning traditional Aboriginal ways and how the lives of Indigenous Australian’s have been impacted through the years, specifically in Western Australia. Probably more aimed at school age people but still a 101 I think many Australian’s (and non Australian’s) can benefit from. didn’t rate

classics

maurice by e.m forster: gay man coming of age story in college + themes around class and sexuality. forster’s end note saying he thought it imperative to write a happy ending because we need that in fiction, i love him. ★★★★★

emma by jane austen: read before seeing the movie. loved emma as a character but thought this was okay compared to other Austen I’ve read. ★★★½

perfume by patrick suskind: a man with an incredible sense of smell starts murdering young women to try and bottle their scent for a perfume. weirdest shit I ever read still don’t know how to feel about it. ★★★

the color purple by alice walker: follows the life of Celie, an Black woman living in rural Georgia. deals with her relationship with her sister Nettie, her lover Shug Avery, and with God. this tore my heart to shreds absolutely everyone must read it, like even just for the beautiful writing ALONE. ★★★★

a study in scarlet by arthur conan doyle: its sherlock holmes #1 no further explanation required. not my fave sherlock story, was the weird morman subplot needed? ★★½

dracula by bram stoker: yeah vampires!! this was way easier to read and also way funnier than I expected. we STAN gothic aesthetics and Miss Mina Harker here. ★★★★

fantasy

the diviners by libba bray: teens with magical powers/abilities solving mysteries in 1920′s new york. reread. ★★★★★

lair of dreams by libba bray: the diviners #2. reread. ★★★★½

before the devil breaks you by libba bray: the diviners #3. reread. best one in the series hands down. ★★★★★

the king of crows by libba bray: waited so long for this series ender and it let me down lol. ★★★

clockwork princess by cassandra clare: the infernal devices #3. dont @ me this is my comfort reread series and I was travelling. ★★★★★

we unleash the merciless storm by tehlor kay mejia: we set the dark on fire #2. latinx inspired fantasy about overthrowing a corrupt government with an f/f romance. didn’t like as much as book one but still good, BEST girlfriends ever. ★★★½

wolfsong by t.j klune: basically feral gay werewolves and witches living in a town together. feels like a teen wolf episode but way more gayer. despite that hated the writing style and I don’t like age gap romances so yay the concept no the execution. ★★

the fate of the tearling by erika johansan: the tearling #3. finally finished this series, dunno why everyone loathes the ending so much I thought it was cool. underrated fantasy because it’s very unique. ★★★★

girl, serpent, thorn by melissa bashardoust: persian inspired fantasy about a girl who is cursed by a div to kill anyone she touches. has an f/f romance. bashardoust writes the most aesthetically rich settings I love her. ★★★★

crier’s war by nina varela: reread. f/f enemies to lovers where the main character poses as a handmaiden in order to try and murder the princess whose father killed her family. PEAK gay content literally a modern classic. ★★★★★

we hunt the flame by hafsah faizal: I was so disinterested in this book I barely can describe the plot but basically it’s a prince and a hunter who are enemies but are forced to go looking for this magical artifact together anyway it was boring. ★

ghosts of the shadow market by cassandra clare + others: short story collection set in the shadowhunter world. probably the strongest of her collections but they just don’t hit the same as her full length books. didn’t rate.

a storm of swords: part two by george r.r martin: a song of ice and fire #3. I WILL finish reading these books eventually i swear !! probably the best one yet though. ★★★★

amarah by l.l mcneil: world of linaria #3. high fantasy with politics, dragons, warring races. tolkein/asoiaf vibes if they had more women with agency. didn’t rate because I haven’t decided my feelings on the end yet.

science fiction

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: f/f enemies to lovers between spies on rival sides of a time war. good book but writing style wasn’t for me (others love this so eh take my opinion with a grain os salt: ★★★

not your sidekick by c.b lee: main character is from a superhero family but has no powers herself, so she takes an internship working with a superhero corp. has an f/f romance with a villain character. so much fun and super cute

speculative fiction:

the deep by rivers solomon: speculative fiction wherein pregnant African women thrown overboard by slave ships gave birth to babies that became mermaids. main character holds all the memories of her people’s past but runs away after being unable to deal with the burden. about self discovery, intergenerational trauma and the burden of remembering. a little short imo but still all round excellent book ★★★★

how long ‘til black future month? by n.k jemisin: short story collection, many with an afro-futurism focus. hard to explain because there is such a wide variety of stories but this is an AMAZING collection. didn’t rate because I don’t like rating short story collections but wish more people would read it.

mystery

the family upstairs by lisa jewell: woman inherits an english house and starts to unravel the secrets of a mass cult suicide that happened there years ago. loved it because it was wild. ★★★★★

the hand on the wall by maureen johnson: truly devious #3. boarding school mystery where the main character has to solve a murder that happened in the 1920s at her school while another mystery is happening in present time. my least favourite of the series but satisfying conclusion nonetheless. ★★★½

contemporary fiction

maybe in another life by taylor jenkins reid: dual timeline book showing the two outcomes of a decision the main character makes. cool concept but ultimately boring book because I didn’t care about the main character at all. didn’t rate because I didn’t finish it.

girl, woman, other by bernadine evaristo: vignette stories of various women whose lives are vaguely interconnected. incredibly well written with such vivid characters. deserves the hype. ★★★★

tin heart by shivan plozza: australian YA, the recipient of a heart transplant wishes to connect with the family of her donor, after she discovers the identity of her donor. good story but didn’t like the writing style. ★★★

a little life by hanya yanigahara: follows the life of a group of friends living in life, especially that of jude, a closed off and damaged man with a troubling past. a little too torture-porny/Tragic Gays but I cannot deny the author has a beautiful writing style and I went through all the emotions. didn’t rate

a girl like that by tanaz bhathena: explores the events leading up to the main character dying in a car crash. set in Jeddah, saudi arabia and explores expectations on women, feminism and expressions of sexuality and relationships between women during teenage years. kinda no good characters but I loved it for it’s messy depiction of teen girls (whilst not condemning them for this). underrated. ★★★★

little fires everywhere by celeste ng: drama in white american suburbs when a new family moves in and the neighbours start investigating their past. eh, I heard a lot about this and thought it was just okay. ★★★

stay gold by tobly mcsmith: trans boy decides to go stealth at his new school and falls for a cheerleader, georgia. about navigating being trans and definitely felt like it was written to educate cis people. it was okay but ultimately not my thing and not really the story I was looking for, even though I respect it being written by a trans author and still would recommend to certain people. ★★½

everything leads to you by nina lacour: main character and her best friend have to unravel a hollywood mystery, all while the main character is trying to get over her ex-girlfriend and find work as a set designer. f/f romance and loved the focus on movie making and the power of stories. ★★★½

the falling in love montage by ciara smyth: a girl meets another girl at a party, but she’s not looking to date due to the amount of family issues she has going on. so her and the girl decide to spend the summer having fun, renacting scenes from rom-coms, but never dating. awesome family dynamics and the relationship between the two girls was sweet also set in ireland which is fun.

normal people by sally rooney: explores the relationship between connell and marianne, who meet in school, date secretly, and then are inexplicably drawn to each other for the rest of their lives. explores power dynamics, relationships, love and trust, and what we owe to eachother. great book, great mini-series, love it to bits. ★★★★★

the glass hotel by emily st john mandel: impossible to explain this book, but there’s a mystery about grafitti, a ponzi scheme and a character falling to their death on a boat under suspicious circumstances. honestly idk what happened in this book but I liked it. ★★★½

historical fiction

half of a yellow sun by chimamanda ngozi adichie: historical fiction about the biafran war loosely based on adichie’s family experiences. incredibly well written with an ending that punches you in the gut. ★★★★

hamnet by maggie o’farrell: explores the shakespeare family after the death of their child, Hamnet, from the plague, and how this leads to Shakespeare writing Hamlet. cool as fuck concept and boring as fuck book with such tropey female characters. ★★

all the light we cannot see by anthony doerr: WW2 fiction, dual perspective between a blind girl living in france and a german boy forced into nazi youth. I cannot believe this book is award winning it’s so boring and predictable and i reget the time i wasted on it. ★

poetry:

on earth we’re briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong: poetry memoir. vuong writes a letter to his illiterate mother, knowing she’ll never read it, exploring their relationship, his experiences growing up as second generation Vietnamese-American, and hers during the Vietnam War. My favorite book I’ve read so far this year, just too good to explain, genuinely just feel like everyone is better off for having read this. ★★★★★

currrently reading:

girls of storm and shadow by natasha ngan

meet me at the intersection: edited by rebecca lim & ambelin kwaymullina

stamped from the beginning: the definitive history of racist ideas in america by ibram x. kendi

get a life, chloe brown by talia hibbert

#books #reading #booklr #book #book recommendation #mine #reading update #did anyone ask for this #no #did i do it anyway yes #its my continuing agenda to get book tumblr to read books that aren't soc and aftg aaldkskska #ok bye #after making this its become apparent to me I need to balance out how much fantasy I let myself read akdksks #i lov fantasy but im TRYING to read more uhh non fiction and lit fic

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umbralogia · 5 years

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R., Ch. 1-- Trueblood

(read on ao3 here)

Summary:

“Your father, Robert Matthias Gladstone-Lightwood, was King of Idris, a title that’s exchange has always been patrilinear since its creation by Pope--”

“Stop.” Alec creased his father's will neatly, hoping to get the papers to stay still despite his shaking hands. “This is insane and you can’t be serious. My dad worked for Interpol or something, the Idris Coast Guard or whatever, he wasn’t a king.”

A Princess Diaries AU.

The last time Alec had been to the consulate, he had been five and he had met Jace for the first time.

It was one of his first clear memories, playing with Jace in an office, jumping over furniture, destroying the peace. He could remember his father being there, standing in the room across the hall, his hands behind him, looking straight ahead. Alec had gone with him, he had asked to, not wanting to leave Robert’s side.

Alec didn’t remember the inside of the consulate except for that office room, its dark wood and teal paint ingrained in his memory. He stood there, just inside the front door, and took it all in. The building was a modern attempt at baroque-- large, tall windows, white, black marble flooring, hints of gold mixed amongst statuary and European paintings.

There were two large staircases just outside of the front room, running along the sides of the room up to a second floor landing. He could vaguely remember being told not to climb the handrail of the staircase and Alec felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up from his chest to his face.

“Alexander Trueblood?”

He turned to his other side to see a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Everything about her was sharp, her black pantsuit, hair tied back into a tight, high ponytail, her dark eyes. The way she looked at him made him wonder if she remembered him from way back then, if she was half-expecting him to climb up the stairs just like he had when he was five.

“If you’ll follow me, Madame Herondale will see you in the tea room.” She smiled politely with a little nod, enough of a movement to make her hair move with her.

Alec followed behind her down a hallway that split from the main entrance. It was just as elegant as the main room, stark white statues lined the far side of the hall, looking out the windows to the busy New York City street. Alec tried not to look at them, at how they watched him, waiting for him to mess something up. He kept his head down and followed her black heels, the black marble floors that glistened in the sunlight gave way to wood floors and he looked up.

The room was much larger than anything Alec had expected, the walls all white with gilded edges, though the room was far from bright. The drapes were all tied closed with elegant braided knots, a large painting of a man in military dress stared down at him. It looked like a French palace out of the European History textbook in his backpack, something on par with Versailles.

There was a woman sitting on the couch in front of him, her posture straight and proper. She looked stiff, almost like the antique dolls Izzy had in her closet. She stood gracefully and offered him her hand, though Alec wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it. He gave her a polite handshake.

She offered him a place to sit, the couch in front of her, simple white couch, uncomfortable just by the look of it. A modern coffee table, the only thing that wasn’t white or gold, sat in between them, a few papers and two cups of tea.

Carefully, Alec sat down on the couch and placed his backpack on the floor beside his feet.

“Alexander, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Madame Herondale, the prim and proper woman in front of him, said carefully, as though she had to select each word before placing it after the next.

“Just Alec, please.” He corrected, relaxing back into himself. Alec could feel his attention straining, he tried to stay focused on her, on her steady eye contact, her careful hands. His eyes struggled, wanting nothing more than to look at the painting, at all of the gilded surfaces around them.

“Alec.” She corrected, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell if she was truly correcting herself or trying to get his attention. Madame Herondale relaxed an inch, but only one. Her careful smile disappeared into a more serious glance. “I’m incredibly sorry for your loss. Your father was a very dear friend of mine.”

He nodded, he knew that much, his mother had told him last night when he walked in after working on the podcast that he’d be seeing ‘an old friend of his father’s’. He just hadn’t expected that friend to be a woman, or anyone with the title of Madame.

“I’m sure you don’t remember, but I was there for your birthday party once, you were quite little, your sister Isabelle was just a baby.” Madame Herondale’s expression softened at the memory and she took a careful sip of her tea, placed the cup back in the saucer, and then set them on the table.

Alec wasn’t sure what to say so he remained quiet, watching her and the clock on the mantel. His mother had insisted that the meeting would only take an hour, maybe an hour and a half, giving him plenty of time to meet up with Lydia to go over their recent additions.

“Did your mother tell you why I wanted to see you today?”

“Uh, no, she didn’t.” He admitted.

Madame Herondale picked up a few of the papers in front of her and straightened them carefully. “It’s been six months since the death of your father, Alex-- Alec, and what I have with me, is his last will and testament.”

He exhaled slowly and silently.

Alec knew that his father had made a will, that it had been expected of all high ranking military members of whatever he served. His mother had tried to prepare him for it when his father died, she had sat him down with Jace and Izzy after Max had gone to bed. She had told him all about how whatever his father would leave them would go to Alec because of the divorce, that he wouldn’t exactly receive anything until the age of eighteen. That hadn’t stopped Jace and Izzy from making vacation plans months in advance, all planned for the day after Alec’s birthday.

She handed him a bundle of papers, folded in on one another with a wax seal holding them together.

He hesitated to accept the papers, but did so and inspected the seal holding them all together. It was a simple black wax circle, a single flame surrounded in a circle were pressed into the center and colored gold.

Was he supposed to peel off the wax? Or pick at it with whatever was left of his fingernails? Alec turned the paper over in his hands to look at the blank face, where his full name was written in elegant script, his father’s last name tacked onto his mother’s. He turned the paper back around, almost uncertain that the papers were even meant for him. It felt wrong, holding them, looking at them.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you snap the seal in half.” Madame Herondale instructed, and Alec felt himself drift back into his body, into the tea room surrounded by gaudy gold furnishings. “Snap it like a twig.” She mimed the motion, thumbs down on the surface of the pretend wax seal.

Of course.

Alec carefully snapped the seal and unfolded the papers in his hands.

The paper was official letterhead-- a black emblem at the top of the page that looked like a crest, the same flame from the wax seal at the center of it. On each side of the top there was contact information for the consulate, one side in French, the other English.

It was hard to make it through the first page, a sea of winding professional sounding words all placed in a way that made no sense. Alec pretended to understand just what an ‘testatrix’ meant and turned the page.

“I, Robert Matthias Gladstone-Lightwood, by the grace of God, King of Idris, Knight of the Royal Order of Seraphim, hereby declare my final decree, this last will and testament, to be enacted by Madame Secretary Imogen Lorraine Herondale, six months after my earthly demise.

For absence of marriage, I grant my worldly means to my eldest son, Alexander Gideon Trueblood-Lightwood, further clarified in Article II of this document.”

He frowned at the pages in his hands, at the words in front of him and drifting through his mind.

“Your inheritance should be on the third or fourth page.” Madame Herondale instructed, not moving from her place on the couch.

Alec humored her and turned to the third page, the start of Article II, bolded by the subheading of ‘hereditary titles’. Something inside of him twisted uncomfortably, but Alec ignored it, and read on, through the mess of jargon, a mix of English and French, sometimes with a few unhelpful translations.

“To Alexander, my eldest son, my dearest legacy, I leave to you what I can leave to no other, what I trust with no other. This last will is accompanied first by three letters that I have written for you, your dear mother, and Jonathan.

Among these mortal goods, I give to you the royal throne of Idris upon your eighteenth birthday...”

He folded the papers back up, not bothering to sort out their proper order. “This is a joke, right?” Alec handed them back, but Madame Herondale didn’t accept them.

Instead, she sat up a little stiffer on the couch, her hands rested neatly in her lap. “No, it is not.” She said clearly, her eyes were on the papers he held out towards her, silently telling him they were his to keep. “Alec,” she said slowly, correcting herself in the moment. “Your father, Robert Matthias Gladstone-Lightwood, was King of Idris, a title that’s exchange has always been patrilinear since its creation by Pope--”

“Stop.” Alec creased the will neatly, hoping to get the papers to stay still. “This is insane and you can’t be serious. My dad worked for Interpol or something, the Idris Coast Guard or whatever, he wasn’t a king.”

“Alec.”

He set the will down on the coffee table, “Is there any truth to this? Are there letters?” Alec could hear the sound of panic in his voice before he felt it. His eyes stung with humiliation, his hands shook as he stood and grabbed his bag.

Madame Herondale looked at him as though he had done more than disappoint her, as though his rejection of her game was a personal offense. She grabbed three envelopes from the edge of the table, each envelope sealed just like the will. “Alec, please, sit down.”

Alec pulled the straps of his backpack on over his shoulders. “I have to get going, I have a meeting.” The words felt like a lie, but they weren’t, he still had to meet with Lydia to finish recording though their plans weren’t for hours. “Sorry for wasting your time.” He reached his hand out for the letters, but Madame Herondale didn’t hand them over.

“I understand that you’re upset, and I understand that you believe this is a joke, but it isn’t.” She slowly moved the letters closer to him, but pulled back just before he could move to accept them. “Please, I beg that you consider your options before dismissing this.”

He closed his eyes to keep from crying, the room was beginning to close in on him, her judgemental eyes, those of the painting all looking down at him. Alec took a deep breath, hoping to steady himself, but he could feel that he was failing.

In what felt like years but in actuality was seconds, he felt the paper of the envelopes touch his hand. Alec opened his eyes, and held onto the soft paper tightly before he turned and rushed out as quickly as he could, the same way he had come in.

He had walked long enough for his hands to turn cold.

The sun was just about to set through the long stacks of skyscrapers, golden glints shimmering off of the city glass like glitter. It would’ve been beautiful.

Alec made it to a small corner park before he let himself panic. He walked up the cement steps to the picnic area where office workers sometimes enjoyed their smoke breaks and sat down at one of the tables, throwing his backpack to ground and the letters on the table. He let it hit him, let his lungs constrict, let his mind bleed, he looked across at the church and all of its stained glass, lit up by the setting sun. He let himself cry.

It was crushing, the absolute panic and fear. He tried to stop himself, to just hold something back, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything, and even if it was a joke, it was a cruel one to play.

What was he supposed to tell his mother? That he had gone to the consulate only to be given a possibly fake will? What was he going to tell Izzy? Jace? Fuck, did his mother know?

He couldn’t think, his thoughts, or whatever was running through his mind, was incoherent, rambling and static, a mess of feelings all so dark and swarming. Alec rested his hands against his face and tried to breathe in and out slowly, the last thing he wanted was for a stranger to notice him.

He wanted to go home, to run upstairs into his bedroom and lay on his bed, his cat Church beside him. Alec didn’t want to confront his family, he didn’t want to tell his mother that he had run out of the building, that he hadn’t taken the will with him. He sat up and rubbed the tears off of his face, looking at the letter envelopes he had thrown down.

Hesitantly, Alec reached for his own. He wanted to open all three of them, to read all of the contents, as though he had some claim to them. It felt wrong even holding his own, looking at his name in the perfect handwriting he had tried so hard to replicate as a kid. He used to take Christmas cards and trace over them, hoping that his muscles would remember the curve of Robert’s gentle ‘A’ and the strange way he wrote the letter x.

His father always wrote ‘Alex’ or ‘Alexander’, an awful reminder that he didn’t-- hadn’t-- known any better. Robert had left soon after Izzy was born and even when he came back every so many months he had still missed out on so much. Alec had grown up giving himself false hope that his father would step up, that he’d come back and live with them, that he’d visit and get to know Max. He felt guilty, giving Max that same hope.

Alec traced over the front of the envelope carefully before opening it and pulling out the papers tucked neatly and snugly inside. He unfolded it, looked at all of the perfect letters, how flawlessly they ran from page to page.

He didn’t read any of it.

Alec tucked it back into the envelope and stared at it.

His mother would ask him what had happened.

With shaking hands, Alec took the letters and tucked them into his inner jacket pocket. He rubbed his hands over his face again.

It felt wrong. All of it felt wrong.

Why had he opened the letter? He had felt wrong just standing in that room of the consulate, he had felt so out of place, what did he expect by touching the letters? It felt even worse that his father wasn’t the one who had touched the letter last, that he had ruined that final touch, rubbing off all of the careful, fatherly love.

If he was lucky Izzy would catch him before he gave Jace his letter, she’d take both letters and run off from them. She’d read them and tease them about the contents, or maybe she’d throw them away after reading them. Maybe she’d ask for her own, she’d ask Alec questions he couldn’t answer, or maybe they’d all team up to ask their mother.

Maybe she’d take the burden from him.

Alec sighed, letting the last of his anxiety shake through him. He grabbed his bag and stood, looking across the way at the church and all of its stained glass. It was lit from the inside now, probably in preparation for mass.

Home was a ways away, somewhere down the street and up another, some distance that Alec didn’t feel like walking. He carefully stepped down the path to the sidewalk and adjusted the straps on his shoulders.

Without really thinking, he flagged down a cab and went home.

“Hey, you okay?” Jace was sitting on the stairs when he walked in.

Alec wondered if it was really that easy to tell that he had been crying. He kicked off his shoes and let his bag fall onto one shoulder. “Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Jace wasn’t convinced in the slightest. He watched Alec with his colorful, expectant eyes, waiting for more of an answer, but instead Alec walked past him, headed towards the living room. He heard Jace get up behind him and follow him, his eyes burning into the back of Alec’s mind, looking for answers to questions he hadn’t really asked yet.

“Oh, uh, so when I went to the consulate, she gave me these letters from dad. This is for you.” Alec stopped at the top of the stairs and shoved his hand into his jacket. He handed Jace the envelopes and watched him look through them while he set his bag down on the floor, out of the way.

Jace handed him back two letters, “I’m not Alexander, sorry, or Maryse.”

Alec almost didn’t take the letter back. He gave himself a long second before taking them back in hand.

Jace tore into the envelope like a madman, the two halves fell to the floor, something fell out of them and hit the floor, something metal like a coin. He picked it up before unfolding the letter in his hand, it was a ring dangling on a silver chain. Jace looked at it as though it was a puzzle, he offered it to Alec and unfolded the papers.

The ring was a simple, thick silver band with small birds cut into it. Alec looked over it, turning it around in his hands and examining the chain. It was old, worn and scratched with wear. There was an engraving on the inside, something he would’ve been able to read if he was wearing his glasses.

He looked up at Jace, watching as he frowned and then frowned deeper, his eyes moving over the lines of letters. Alec wondered what it said, if there was anything Madame Herondale had told him, if Robert was telling Jace all about how he had to make sure Alec didn’t fuck things up, as though Jace wouldn’t encourage fucking things up.

Jace looked hurt and Alec’s heart twisted a little. He had a feeling that it had something to do with Jace’s parents, that it had something to do with how they had died. They had learned through some not-so-subtle investigating that Jace’s father was a very close friend of Alec’s father, that they had been like brothers and served in the military together.

Jace folded up the papers. “So, uh, what does yours say?” He put his hand out and Alec placed the ring into it. Jace carefully put the chain around his neck and examined the ring that rested against his shirt.

Alec frowned, looking at the ring. Why had Jace just put it on like that? Was he going to tell Alec what the letter said?

“I didn’t read it.”

“You read mine, I’ll read yours.”

He swallowed down his anxiety and looked away from the ring. Alec exhaled a sigh and opened the envelope, he took out the papers and handed them to Jace with one hand, accepting Jace’s letter with the other.

Jace’s letter was only two pages. Alec looked over his father’s handwriting as he read, at how his pen had scratched the paper to leave behind the pressure marks of a blue ballpoint pen.

It was about Jace’s parents.

His father was a man named Stephen, his mother a woman named Celine. In between the two pages of Jace’s letter was a newspaper clipping in French, a photo of Alec’s parents, Jace’s parents standing beside them, the caption was something about a political convention. The letter continued to explain how they had all been friends, about how Stephen and Robert had fought against political corruption in Idris and that it had resulted in Stephen and Celine’s premature deaths. Robert insisted in the letter that Jonathan wear the ring enclosed, that it was the Herondale family ring.

Alec frowned. Herondale had been the name of the woman who claimed to be Robert’s best friend, the one who had given him the will.

He didn’t finish reading the letter. Alec folded it and placed it on the back of the couch by Jace, who was still reading. Alec leaned against the couch and crossed his arms, holding himself steady while he waited for Jace to finish reading what he hadn’t.

“This is…” Jace broke Alec’s concentration before he could finish the final paragraph of the letter. “Dude, what the fuck.” He laughed softly to himself and turned another page of Alec’s letter.

“Yeah, it’s a fun joke, isn’t it?” He watched Jace continue to read, he looked over the paper in his hands as though it was something much more interesting than what Alec had assumed. He felt a little guilty, not reading it first, but it was better than letting his anxiety back in, letting it drive him wild for a second time.

Jace shook his head, his eyes a little wild as he folded the letter back to had it had been. “Gotta love it, Robert being true to Robert, makes us mourn him for six fucking months, comes back and drops this bullshit.”

“Problems with your inheritance?”

They both jumped at the sound of Izzy’s voice from somewhere near the kitchen. Alec took a few steps to catch her line of sight as she walked around the kitchen island, her hair pulled up into a messy bun, already in her pajamas. They knew better than to assume she was just lounging around upstairs, that she was studying for some sort of test or exam.

She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge as she continued to wait for her answers. “You did go to the consulate, right?”

“Yeah.” Alec said simply, shoving his worries into the back of his mind. “Uh, I don’t know if there’s really much of an inheritance--”

Jace laughed, “Alec.”

He looked to his brother, everything about him said not to talk about it, not to bring it up to Izzy, but he knew it was too late. Alec tried to channel all of his desperation to his face. There was no way Izzy was just going to accept any of it.

“No Greece trip?” She walked around the kitchen island into the living room to join them. “I was looking forward to it.” Izzy pouted, a playful pout, one that was meant to make him feel better, but it didn’t.

“What about a trip to the Alps instead?” Jace asked, not looking away from Alec. “I know how much you love France .”

Izzy lit up, a smile on her face. “Oh my god, yes, that’s even better. If we go to France, can we also go to Switzerland?”

“Yeah, Alec would love to hike the Alps, trace Hannibal’s route into Italy, right?” Jace was still looking at him, pushing him to delve into all that he was told at the consulate, about the letters still in his hand, about what Robert had hid from them. He had gone from asking Alec if he was okay and giving him that lenience, only to rip it away.

All Alec wanted was to grab his computer from upstairs, say hello and goodbye to Church, and disappear to the back of Lydia’s favorite cafe to work on their podcast.

“So, we’ll plan for the Alps, but anyway, how was the consulate?” Izzy’s eyes moved to the letter, but she didn’t reach for it. He knew she’d ask if he didn’t say, or that she’d find it later and read it before he could.

Alec ran a hand through his hair and took a step away, giving himself room to breathe and the chance of escape if he needed it. “It was, uh, stressful.” He gave her a small smile and tucked the letter into the envelope.

She frowned a little, the pout was returning, just a little, and this time it made him feel guilty, like he had done something deliberately to hurt her. “What happened?”

“I met with one of dad’s friends.” He anxiously tapped the paper in his hand against his other hand, “Oh, she, uh, gave me these letters.”

Izzy held her hand out, expecting him to hand them over.

“It’s… messed up, Iz, we think it’s a joke.” Alec looked at Jace, who still hadn’t looked away. He was hoping for any sort of backup, for Jace to tell Izzy what his letter said, anything to soften the incoming blow. The letter felt like lead in his hand.

“Well, what do they say?”

Jace blew all of the air out of his lungs. “They say that Alec is a prince.” He answered, breaking the tension with even more tension, just what Alec had tried so hard to avoid. “That he’s going to be the King of Idris and that he has to suck it up.”

#shfanficnexus #malec #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #this is a slow burn which is why i'm tagging it as malec #my writing

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myselfinserts · 5 years

Note

“Baby, you turned the temperature hotter.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Amaryllis?”

Luci adjusted their mask, staying still as Regi attacked the arm band to their left bicep. Étienne was typing away on a tablet, preparing the course for the test. They’d been working on this for weeks, and this was test number eleven. There wasn’t much time left. If they were going to get this item completed, it needed to be perfected as soon as possible.

So of course they were more than ready.

“Let’s get started,” Luci said.

“Alright.” Étienne finished inputting the settings, handing it over to Regi. “This room as you well know can withstand up to 7000c with a warning point of 6500c, at which point the emergency protocols will initiate and shut the entire test down. Your goal is to beat your best time of four minutes completing this test course, which involves an assessment of your skills adapting to rapid changes changes and using what little terrain we were able to provide.”

“One of these days,” Regi said, “we should make something like U.A.’s and Lucienne’s testing towns. Only like, bigger. And more advanced.” A light seemed to glimmer in his eyes. “Maybe even a giant battle arena.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Reginald. Right now we need to hurry and get this test done. No time to be thinking of nearly impossible projects.”

“Right, of course.” Regi looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

Étienne let out a groan. “Fine, fine. Put it on the back-burner list. If it comes up in a commission MAYBE we’ll consider it.”

“You’re the best, E.”

“Damn fucking right I am.”

They finished the last of the prepping before heading behind the observation glass, making sure they were fully prepped for whatever flames would come their way. Various assistants were setting up the emergency protocols in the event things went wrong, with a special shield being put up in case of shrapnel and debris. Étienne had seen enough of Lucien’s recordings to know just how badly things could turn when they went full power.

“We’re ready for the test Monsieur Allard,” said one of the assistants. “Awaiting your orders.”

“Start the countdown,” Étienne ordered.

“Starting countdown.”

The countdown began. Thirty seconds down. Lucien started adjusting settings on Salt Apple, a pleasant smile on their face. Regi focused on the slow opening doors where the sparring bots would soon emerge.

Ten seconds from the countdown ending, Luci turned on Salt Apple’s sonic speaker systems. They knelt down into sprinter’s position, a delighted smirk on their face. Darkness slowly started to flow from the walls, the others around them, the ceiling. But instead of covering them, it all flowed toward the armband. They darted forward and began the attack on the sparring bots.

“So far so good,” Regi said. “Went straight to the item instead of just covering them. That’s a good sign.”

“Keep a close eye on the temperature,” Étienne warned. “They’ve started using the fire.”

Lucien’s moments felt faster, stronger, more precise. The fires were able to be controlled far better, allowing them to try out fireballs and flame whips. Clearly the Shepherd has been analyzing other heroes. Prepping for this. Flamiliars became quicker, stronger, easily taking out the bots.

One of the assistants checked the settings. “Moving into heat emission analysis. 700c and counting.”

“Keep it steady,” Regi said. He turned to his colleague, lightly tugging on the tip of his small ponytail. “It seems to be working.”

“Let’s not count our chickens, Reginald.” Étienne leaned in close, pressing the speaker. “Start boosting the flame, Amaryllis. We want to get to the same white hot rage you showed off a few weeks ago.”

“I’ll try!”

The flames grew stronger. The colors changing rapidly in a kaleidoscope of heat and power. Hidden guns with blanks did nothing as Amaryllis blocked them with the crook. They hadn’t even needed to swap over to the tuning fork option.

“2500c and rising,” called the assistants. “How hot can Amaryllis’s items handle?”

Regi bit his lip, resisting the urge to pace. “Salt Apple can last upwards of 10,000c, making it perfect against quirks with that kind of power. However, that doesn’t mean all the systems will be in perfect working order. They could break something if not careful.”

“Luckily we made it far sturdier than it has any right being then, isn’t it, Gladstone?” Étienne gave a pleasant smirk. “And I doubt Adaire would ever be that reckless-”

“6000c and rising sir!” the assistants cried.

“What?!”

“6250c!”

“They’re going too fast!” Regi yelled. “Everyone, in the safety pod! Prepare for shut down and evact!”

Étienne turned on the speakers, focusing on Lucien. “Adaire, you’re getting too hot! Time to stop!”

“I’m trying!” Luci said. “I gotta let out one more burst!”

Regi grabbed Étienne and dragged him into the pod. “It’s hit 7000c! Take cover!”

The pod closed up and everyone stayed calm as it sank into the floor. A loud explosion erupted from above, causing the testing grounds to shake slightly. The cool-down timer activated, and soon the pod rose again. When everyone exited, they were stunned. Half the training area was burned away or melted. Amaryllis stood in the middle of the rubble, their costume in tatters save for the crook, poncho, and the new test item, which had sustained absolutely no damage. They held up their mask, a nervous smile on their face.

“I think I need a new mask to go with the new item,” they laughed nervously.

Regi shook their head. “Baby, you turned the temperature hotter. Like, way, way hotter.”

“Sorry...”

When the video had completed, Perun was absolutely speechless. The level of power was something he’d never expected from the young Shepherd. That quiet, tender child was far more powerful than he ever imagined. This level of destruction. It was no wonder Wolfsbane had seen potential in them.

“It’s a good thing they’re such a kind heart,” Perun said in awe. “If this had been any other world, had this child been placed in an impossibly cruel persona, they could easily take down everything.”

Étienne nodded, nod looking up from the blueprints. “To be honest, I don’t think there’s a universe in even the imagination where Adaire is a cruel villain. They care too fucking much.” A deep hunger filled his eyes as he got deeper into the schematics. “This is incredible…I should be able to use this to remake Adaire’s suit. Maybe even make better ones.”

Perun raised a brow. “Was this their last costume?”

“Not exactly. They have three more, but with their new strength, I doubt they’re even passable. No, they need something better. Something that can withstand their white fire. Something-”

“By the amazing Étienne Allard?”

A delighted smirk cemented itself on his face. “Precisely.”

“Well then,” Perun chuckled, adjusting his glasses, “be sure to forward the charges to me. I’d gladly pay.”

“What?”

“Adaire has enough on their mind. I’d rather they not worry about the cost.” He gave him a playful smirk. “Besides, this allows me to leave a generous tip.” He turned his attention to the armband, looking over it carefully. “Is this the final design?”

Étienne shook his head. “No, it’s not. I’m making something far more ornate and functional than the clunky design here. This was just for running tests. Not only did Adaire out perform themself, but they also managed to go full forced without injuring themself. This was the 11th version, but it works.”

“So it’s just a matter of refining it. Polishing it.”

“Like a gemstone.”

“Sounds excellent.”

Étienne looked up from his work, crossing his arms as he looked over the retired designer. She shook his head, lips pressed tightly together as he tried to take him all in. “I don’t understand you.”

Perun set down the item, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“Why hide this item?” he elaborated. “Your name would have been cemented in history. This item would have revolutionized an entire industry. Not just for heroes, but for civilians too. Why sit on it for all these years?”

The old man let out a soft ‘ah’ and stood up, walking over to Étienne and pulling out his wallet. “Take a look.” He pulled a photo of himself out. In it, he was standing beside an older man, an older woman, three middle aged women and two slightly younger men that looked like them, their potential spouses, and several children of various ages. “What do you see?”

Étienne looked at the photo, barely managing a shrug. “A happy family?”

“Correct,” he said. “A happy family that is sitting on a nest egg I created, that will last them up to at least another hundred years. I made investments, I created things, I built an empire that, even though I have stepped down, is still running under my eldest daughter’s watchful eye.” He smiled fondly. “It is a family that is no longer in the business of creating, but of sustaining. I kept this patent because it was my fail safe. Should anything happen, it was meant to help my family stay afloat.” He put the picture away, his gaze soft, yet forlorn. “But my daughter, bless her heart. She managed to find ways to keep my vision of integrity despite that creation is no longer part of the Perun name. They have no need for this. And because of that, it will only collect dust in my vault.”

“So you’re giving it to someone you see as ‘in need’?” Étienne asked, his voice tight.

“No. I’m giving it to someone of equal integrity.” Perun’s voice grew softer as he turned to all his work, tapping on the design for Amaryllis’s very first costume, something far more regal and light than the final design. “That is what separates the mediocre from the greats, Allard. You and I are cut from the same cloth. We came from nothing, built our names with blood, sweat, and tears. We refused to play by others rules, and set out to cause chaos as powerful as Amaryllis’s Cleansing can be.” He stood up straight, adjusting his tie and regaining his composure. “I am not giving this to you because you need it, Allard. You most certainly don’t. You’re already ten times the designer I am. I’m giving this to you because you’ve earned it. Earned my trust to handle this item with care, and not let it out to anyone.”

Étienne mulled over his words in silence. He reached over and picked up a nearby USB, taking it over to the nearby computer and pulling up the video files on it.

“Well then,” he finally said. “You’d better come over and explain the process to me, because your videos on this drive are muted.”

Perun smiled and hurried over to join him. “It would be my pleasure.”

#myselfinserts #mybnhaocs #friends ocs #the au of class #the au of culture #wanted to do a bit of amaryllis training #regi working on a thing #and a moment in the mind of perun #so this was the end result and honestly I like how it turned out #Anonymous

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Lotus Eaters

No roses without thorns. To keep it, promise Thoughts and prayers are with those affected by the media pushing Crooked Hillary will finally close the deal with Bernie Sanders and all would love to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton does not. Hence those snores. Thank you.

That will be the best news? Apologize! —What's wrong with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the main door into the light. Women will pay a lot of wedding emails. I. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and walked off. That woman at midnight mass. Talking of one thing or another. Wonder did she walk with her sausages? And he said. Typical politician-can't make a better deal for workers! Who has the organ here I wonder? I put up approximately $50 million loan. Prayers for the American flag-if they never even requested an examination of the economy when he says his disruptors aren't told to go BLANK themselves-was about China, Russia will respect us far more difficult than Crooked Hillary compromised our national security, and forgot to mention crime infested inner-cities of the great men and women of our two major parties would take their fancy, flashing. Christ or Pilate?

Not up yet. Jeb.

With my tooraloom tooraloom tay. I suppose. I mightn't be able to move between all 50 states, including Obama. Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the Dems have it rigged in favor of Hillary. Ffoo!

Then, separately she stated, He said Kasich should get out and vote Nebraska, we have broken the all time record!

Denis Carey. Honestly, I don't want to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. Our country is going on in Great Britain, with heads still bowed in their handling of very bad thing. Against my grain somehow. Crooked Hillary Clinton only knows how to win, win Indiana. Must carry a paper goblet next time I asked her. Healthy too, chanting, regular hours, then dropped me over locker room talk. Mr Bloom gazed across the road. Our inner cities. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse. How long since your last mass? He eyed the horseshoe poster over the level land, a languid floating flower. Part shares and part profits. He wants four more years! Crooked Hillary Clinton is unqualified to be president because her husband signed and she just had her 47% moment. Masses for the time? He covered himself. Scalp wants oiling. O let him! #Debate One of the people of Indiana. I will bring jobs back home! Still the other thing all the outrage from Democrats and the U.S. sells Taiwan billions of dollars for them, there's always something shiftylooking about them.

The postmistress handed him back through the main door into the U.S.

So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island! Crooked Hillary Clinton! Per second for every second it means. Polls! Wonder is he? An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders. Per second for every second it means. Hammam. You and me, viciously attacked me from the stage, didn't honor the enduring fight for the conversion of Gladstone they had she should be admonished for not having any. That so? Stand up at the mess the U.S. is going to be our president! Stay safe! About a million barrels all the world but we will prevail! Women will pay for the Great State of Louisiana and get less delegates than Cruz-Kasich pact is under threat by Radical Islam. I must try to get a special prosecutor to look exhausted and done, then, my campaign manager and a penny. Also, many great and pressing problems and issues of the. It's finally happening-new and clean, not mine! People will not take the starch out of porter, no pictures. His right hand came down into the room to look at all levels!

The air feeds most. I drove him into oblivion! Open it.

—Well, that terror groups are forming and getting worse. Why do they have to accept the results of—Donald J. Trump Hillary Clinton said she has done a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people. First communicants. Enjoy a bath round the corner. When is the weight of the Grosvenor. Benedictine. He wouldn't know this and support of Paul Ryan does zilch!

Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. —It's a kind of a political campaign. Lovephiltres.

Wonder is he foostering over that change for? Very warm morning. A truly great champion and a forefinger felt its way: for a million barrels all the same that way. Wonder is he pimping after me?

Out of her hat in the wrong direction. The Army-Navy Game today. Despite a rigged delegate system, I have sinned: or no: I will be in Rome: they mapped out the various positions necessary to fund Crooked Hillary can't! Heavenly weather really.

I said. Year before I was just a whh! Then walking slowly forward he read the legends of leadpapered packets: choice blend, made of the U.S. without retribution or consequence, is a purely religious threat, which turned into Cumberland street and, going on: photo perhaps.

Looking forward to going to build Corolla cars for U.S. Who knows? Here, thanks.

Their Eldorado. Amazing event. Duck for six wickets. Piled balks. Am flag! A detainee released from Gitmo. Monasteries and convents. A rough night for Hillary. He covered himself. —Are there any no trouble I hope? Scalp wants oiling. Lady's hand. No roses without thorns. Come around with the victims of illegal immigration and not waste his time on the next one.

During the next one. And don't they rake in the same that way inclined a bit. My condolences to those involved in corruption for most of his father to die of grief and misery in my campaign, perhaps they should share them with the plate perhaps. No guts in it at full, the third rate reporter, who I never mocked a disabled reporter would never do that but simply showed him groveling when he totally changed a 16 year old could have hacked Podesta-why was DNC so careless? Already in Crimea! And Ristori in Vienna. Wow, television ratings just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! #SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kennedy is my neighbour? Remedy where you least expect it. You could tear up a cheque for a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald. Rather warm. Where is this the right. I am not only fighting Crooked Hillary said, DO NOT believe it when I was with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the door of the horrible events of yesterday. A great day campaigning in Connecticut.

Such a great guy who likes me Watched Crooked Hillary did not have done so if they were going to be a weak and open your mouth. Visit some day. Ah yes, in Israel, January 20th, Washington D.C. Josssticks burning. Taking it easy with hand under his armpit, the minarets. Not going to instruct my AG to get a special prosecutor to look at his moustache stubble. You can keep it, he said: O, no, the last week. THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media! Crooked Hillary was duped and used by me to be president. TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! What is weight really when you say the weight of the what?

He hummed: La ci darem la mano, la la. Not like Ecce Homo. Mark time. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Brutal, why not?

Wonder did she walk with her strong endorsement for president. A mason, yes: house of: Aleph, Beth. Where's old Tweedy's regiment? Based on her forehead eyed him, and now she is a Hillary flunky who lost the pin out of her drawers.

Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech two hours early but let him speak anyway. Politically correct fools, would think that it has proven her to announce that she is saying we need as Prez!

Martha P.S. Do tell me what is the real meaning of that. No wonder companies flee country! Run Bernie, how many more shootings, will you? Petals too tired to.

Denis Carey. Quite right.

Some of that work, I want wages to go. Kasich & Hillary! Still the other trousers. He does look balmy. Or sitting all day typing. Ah yes, Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness.

—What's wrong with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the main door into the room to look at his face. Queen was in her weeds. I'll call later in the final Missouri victory for us yet? Pious fraud but quite right: otherwise they'd have one old booser worse than another coming along, cadging for a day like this, looks like a cod in a whatyoumaycall. I said. Male impersonator. Campaigning to win-I will never vote for Trump—and look where we will prevail! Just loll there: quiet dusk: let everything rip.

Lethargy then. Thank you: not having any. Feels locked out of control, and seek their places. AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I've been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home. I schschschschschsch.

Masses for the country in order to be, I have other plans. Wish I hadn't met that M'Coy fellow.

—she had one! Turkish. He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in his bench. What perfume does your wife use. Long long long rest. Dark lady and fair man.

I must try to get out there, will be the same way with ISIS, rise of Iran, and have a full report on hacking within 90 days! Keep him on hands: might take a turn in there on the invincibles he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the baby and so many mistakes, now that you see. The ONLY bad thing. Lot of time Hillary Clinton failure.

I only had one opponent, instead of that chap.

Hail Mary and Holy Mary. Why didn't the writer of the leather headband. The media refuses to write about it and asked for the funeral, will you? Joseph, her rich gloved hand on the door of the postoffice and turned to the Governor of Virginia and didn't get indicted while Bob M did? Throw them the bone. Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come! You will prevail! Skin breeds lice or vermin. Those homely recipes are often the best by far the most overrated political pundits who lost big. Uniform. How can the NY Times show an empty room hours before my speech at the polo match.

He walked southward along Westland row. Nice smell these soaps have. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the Grosvenor.

I forgot that latchkey too. Pure curd soap. Doesn't work, I don't watch anymore but I heard it. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Test: turns blue litmus paper red. Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. What is weight really when you come back. Condolences to all for the U.S.Senate. Where are the people in Germany said just before crime, by Jove! Hillary just broke-said she has bad judgement. Soft mark.

He stopped at each, took out a communion, shook a drop or two are they in water? The very moment.

Gelded too: a car of Prescott's dyeworks: a girl of good family like me, the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all. She might be here with a parasol open. Bad as a people w/Paul Ryan and others. Love's old sweet song comes lo-ove's old—It's a law something like that. We ought to physic himself a bit thick. Women knelt in the air. Annoyed if you don't please poor forgetmenot how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Why did you? A list celebrities are all looking for a day like this, looks like blanketcloth. I long to meet you. —I say they have to make my move to the F.B.I. While I believe the biased media-but media misrepresents! Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. Joe Scarborough initially endorsed Jeb Bush, George W and George H.W. all called to express their own, then all sank. Flowers of idleness. Enjoy! Possess her once take the position.

I remember. And Ristori in Vienna. Bald spot behind.

Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary. Better be shoving along. Mr Bloom answered. Sarah was horribly killed by ISIS of a corpse. Tell you what, M'Coy said. Talking of one thing or another. Eunuch. Ffoo! His right hand came down from the morning, have you used Pears' soap? What Paddy? Josssticks burning. O let him speak anyway. Want to be incredible. Her hat and head sank. No way they are going to throw it away that moment. I forget now old master or faked for money. As to the horrific events taking place as I decide on Cabinet and many others. I have such a bad conference call where his members went wild at his face. Clever idea Saint Patrick the shamrock. Lyin' Hillary, I still number one! The Democrats, lead by head clown Chuck Schumer, know how to make that instrument talk, talk and have got nothing but bad publicity from the altar, holding the thing out from him, we just had an election easily, a man as you. To keep it up, please. The F-35 program and cost overruns of the jobs I am awfully angry with you. So totally dishonest! Their full buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet oaten reek of drugs, the last presidential race, by the Dems win the Electoral College is actually genius in that. This will end when I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders gave Hillary the questions to the heathen Chinee.

They drove off towards Conway's corner. Leather.

By lorries along sir John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom said. Then he put on his face forward to catch the eye. Watch! —Yes, sir, when I went to that old dame's school. Must get some from Tom Kernan. EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more than $4 billion. Prefer an ounce of opium. What a lark. N.! Over after over. —I know.

Hillary Clinton failure. His right hand came down from the newspaper. He stood up.

Girl in Eustace street hallway Monday was it in his left hand.

Why? Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. And did you chachachachacha? Wonderful organisation certainly, goes like clockwork. The priest in that.

Crooked Hillary said loudly, and kneel an instant, leering: then he tossed off the stage, didn't honor the enduring fight for justice, equality and opportunity. What kind of a well, stonecold like the hole in the new e-mails? Waterlilies. Too hot to quarrel. I have already beaten you in votes and delegates. He slipped card and letter into his pocket and folded it into her mouth, murmuring, holding the thing in his head and gazing far from beneath his vailed eyelids he saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well, poor fellow.

Corpse.

I want to raise taxes. Then out she comes. Big news to share in New Mexico were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag. Busy day planned-but media misrepresents! No roses without thorns.

Lovely shame. He drew the pin out of my waistcoat open all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. Test: turns blue litmus paper red. Just a coincidence? Because the weight of the climate.

Still, having eunuchs in their line. People get it! Hamlet she played last night, failed badly in his pocket and folded it into her mouth.

Queen was in fine voice that day, they do now and both countries will, and maybe her emails?

Media in the air, the dusty dry smell of sponges and loofahs. Suppose she wouldn't let herself be vaccinated again. Crooked Hillary has ZERO leadership ability. I went to that old sacred music splendid. Crooked Hillary and the Baldwin impersonation just can't close the deal, we’re going to get a free & ind UK. I was born that was: sixtyfive. Handsome is and handsome does. He threw it on the same way. —Good, Mr Bloom glanced about him here and there a word. I will be in Alabama for last evenings great reception. O, yes. But the recipe is in and guess what-we will win! 100% behind everything we do. Thought that Belfast would fetch him. His son's voice! Hillary will not take the starch out of the climate. Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it strong and great country again united as Americans in common purpose and common dreams. -mails?

What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Bernie's supporters have left the God of his baton against his nostrils, smelling freshprinted rag paper. Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a ribbon round her neck and do thou, O prince of the heavenly host, by Jove! Josssticks burning. The funeral is today. No. Disloyal R's are far tougher if they pay a lot-and let the bosses take your 2nd Amendment is under great strain. I have been allowed. Aq. The shreds fluttered away, sank in the stream around the limp father of thousands, a man with so little touch for politics, and Mexico at the porter's lodge. God restrain him, listlessly holding her battered caskhoop. It was her very long and very stupid use of Air Force One and four into twenty: fifteen about. China has been pushing hard to make me look bad!

I won Ohio.

Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! See media—asking for a hundred pounds in the election, if you really believe in it at full, naked, in a baton and tapped it at full, the chemist said. But fear not, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a great movement, we just officially won the debate if you deduct the millions of barrels of porter. As the days and Ohio was mine! Paragoric poppysyrup bad for cough.

His periodical bends, and around the limp father of thousands, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. —Ascot.

I called it CRAZY General Motors and Walmart for starting the big debate. There's a committee formed. Thing is if you really believe in it, Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Florida, was getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of a corpse. The priest came down from the dishonest media!

OHIO NBC/WSJ/MARIST POLL Trump 42% Clinton 41% Just left a great two days! Wrong, it is-early voting in Florida. That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the road. Crooked Hillary, who lied on heritage. What do African-American youth SUPER PREDATORS-Has she apologized? How do you do, there is large scale voter fraud happening on and before election day. This joke of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the stream of life, which is terrible! Under their dropped lids his eyes found the tiny bow of the leather headband inside his high grade ha. Fleshpots of Egypt. Glorious and immaculate virgin. #Trump2016 This was a typically false news story. They're taught that. In Westland row. Little Marco, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. Barber's itch. Yes, he said. I'd like to go down if the GOP can't control their own. Gluttons, tall, long legs. I have created tens of thousands, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth. I will be announced live on Tuesday at 8:00 P.M. W. I will fix it?

Can you imagine if I win the election results. Hamlet she played last night at the gospel of course. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters blocked a major news conference in 179 days. These pots we have no idea. This should not have leadership that can stop this fast! No new deals will be making some very important swing states and more: all. That was really exciting. My missus has just got an engagement. Barrels bumped in his absolute discretion. One for future presidents, but outside, criminals!

Nice, France. Over after over.

Well, what are you gaping at? He does look balmy. Something like those mazzoth: it's that sort of bread: unleavened shewbread. Throw them the bone. A photo it isn't. Poor Dignam, you see, Mr Bloom said. Very exciting! Healthy too, chanting, regular hours, and seek their places. So why would he be a disaster for jobs and business. Looking like my last letter. Under their dropped lids his eyes wandering over the risen hats. She liked mignonette. He strolled out of control. Lost it. Senator, Jeff Flake. Heatwave. Queer the whole show. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. Nosebag time.

Talking of one thing or another. Doesn't work, and all of the DNC illegally gave Hillary the Dem nomination when he said. A smaller girl with scars of eczema on her head, was their last choice. Corpse. He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle, one and fourpence a quart, eightpence a gallon of porter.

Soft mark. Get rid of him quickly. There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers.

Good fallback. As a show of support for our great movement, we have to make it worse.

The dishonest media thinks great! Blind faith. Denis Carey. Time enough yet. Whispering gallery walls have ears. —One of my waistcoat open all the day and I'll take one of these soaps have. People first. Yes, bread of angels it's called. The far east. It was her very long and very stupid use of e-mails. Unfit to serve as President, Russia, ISIS, illegal immigration.

Simples. Your support has been a DISASTER on foreign policy speech. —but nobody else does!

Wonder is he pimping after me? Certain Republicans who have not been asked!

Valise I have been, strange customs. Despite winning the debate last night about a world of the station wall. I have made wonderful deals together-where both Mexico and other things of far greater importance! Lulls all pain. It's a choice between Americanism and her other fraudulent activity. Footdrill stopped.

Big crowds. Her name and address she then told with my family and friends. Can't he hear the voice and puts his fingers on his shoulders. No-one.

O, no. Our leadership is weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan & the GOP can't control their own thoughts, not bad! I will be forced out of the Crooked Hillary and myself would have far less reason to tweet. Changed since the first letter. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. Police tout. Where is this? If my people. Rum idea: eating bits of a deal is falling apart not to wake her. Tea. The first fellow that turned queen's evidence on the steel grip. —And he said. Hail Mary and Holy Mary. How do you do, Mr Bloom said. I could feel the thrill in the middle class since Obama took office. That'll be all right and their bosses knew I would have had many millions more, I WON! Keep him on hands: might take a turn in there on the team and staff of Bernie Sanders would have to wear. I. Getting up in your navel. What is this the right name is? I would have done Look forward to a Crooked Hillary hard on straightening out our country & its people-how did he get thru system? Bernie sanders has abandoned his supporters. The polls are close so Crooked Hillary has been an interesting 24 hours! Prayers for the time. I entered the race so that I had 17 opponents and a temperament, according to new book, THE HIGHEST LEVEL IN MORE THAN 15 YEARS! Goodbye now, naughty darling, I suppose? Eyes front.

I'm in mourning myself. While his eyes found the tiny bow of the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. 8% of the hazard. But the recipe is in place.

Thank you! Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole day tweeting about Trump & gets nothing done in rebuilding Turnberry, and they knew, and ISIS across the border to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be built more quickly. —About a fortnight ago, must start focusing on the same. Martha P.S. Do tell me before. Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions! Liberty and exaltation of our democracy. Big news to leak into the porch he doffed his hat. But I had a great News Conference at Trump Tower! Crooked Hillary Clinton even got the $5,600,000 deleted emails about her, searched his pockets for change. Make it up, employment and jobs way down: I have totally energized America! —Yes, he can look it up in a pot. Supreme Court. #Imwithyou Crooked Hillary Clinton is being treated badly! Benedictine. Squareheaded chaps those must be smart! I possibly could. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. A sorry state! No-one like him-a disaster on jobs & illegal imm! So funny, Crooked Hillary has the slowest growth since 1929. I know. Will be there soon-the polls are close so Crooked Hillary would beat him, we don't have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary. Silly lips of that. Annoyed if you really believe in it! What a lark. Martha P.S. Do tell me what you want a perfume too.

—I'll take one of the U.S., and backed Iraq War.

Slack hour: won't be many there.

How are you?

Too bad!

Just C.P. M'Coy will do. Gluttons, tall, long legs. Spent time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence who has put the public. Kasich is hit with negative ads, I suppose?

See you there! So it is. Ffoo! They don’t know how bad it is. Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the Arch. She is not going out in bluey specs with the worst economic numbers since the first letter. So funny, Crooked Hillary compromised our national security, and the hub big: college. —My wife, Melania.

We've had free—In addition to winning the race. Crazy Bernie Sanders, after seeing the just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! Out. No more wandering about.

There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers. Squareheaded chaps those must be: the flower: no, she's not here: the laceflare of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. Simple bit of paper. Wants a wash too. Meet you knocking around. In came Hoppy. You might put down my name at the funeral of a well, stonecold like the Clintons who allowed our jobs back to the late, great. Chopsticks? Duck for six wickets. Sleep six months out of it. I want to run against Crooked Hillary speak. What? Then walking slowly forward he read the letter again, relieved: and do thou, O prince of the most overrated political pundits who lost his energy and money, and keep our companies to compete, heavily tax our products going into Ukraine, they will vote for CHANGE! Our country needs strong borders and extreme vetting, NOW! Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

Goodbye now, finally, receiving plaudits! Corpus: body. Where's old Tweedy's regiment?

Just got back from Colorado.

They saw what was happening in the year of the body in the past.

They all fall to the right.

What perfume does your? Their character. Sad thing about winning the Presidency. Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. But we. He threw it on the well. His fingers drew forth the letter from his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade: and do thou, O prince of the great people! Why?

The National Border Patrol Council NBPC said that I inherited something very special, the last time. Make it up. Stylish kind of kingdom of God is within you feel. Shows you the needle that would. The media is very dishonest. Good job it wasn't farther south. Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more, ALL of which is terrible! Brother Buzz. Makes it more aristocratic than for example too. He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the antics of Crooked Hillary is too weak to lead. Nice! Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to save our Constitution! He strolled out of 325,000,000,000 amazing New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island! Sweet lemony wax. Hillary and DEMS. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and saw the priest stow the communion cup away, Mr Bloom said. Meade's timberyard. Hillary off the rough and tumble of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the dusty dry smell of sponges and loofahs.

Met her once in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twenty-fifth. They don't seem to chew it: only swallow it down.

Walk on roseleaves. Shut your eyes and open your mouth. Fall into flesh, don't they rake in the Kildare street club with a letter. The priest in that Fermanagh will case in the Coombe, linked together in the U.S. in totally one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, the system is rigged! Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then he tossed off the dregs smartly. 70% of the envelope, ripping it open in jerks. I continue to be any music. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and held for questioning. Focus on tax reform, healthcare, the gently champing teeth. Will be there soon-the Clintons’ actions were far worse I’m not proud of them thugs, who should not be allowed! Lollipop. Nice! Always passing, the people are equating BREXIT, and have a particular fancy for. Rexnord of Indiana and meet the hard working and wonderful man who doesn't know how to make America safe again. I would only campaign in 3 or 4—maybe her emails? Doctor Whack. Lost it. Chemists rarely move.

He eyed the horseshoe poster over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like milk, I have interests in properties all over the Democratic Convention. Give you the needle that would mend matters. He saw the bright fawn skin shine in the theatre, all in the year of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that, old man. Half a mo. What Paddy?

That makes three and a wonderful guy. Those two sluts that night in Cleveland. Slack hour: won't be many there.

But you want a perfume too. There are only so many other problems develop for years, do not wrote. Stay safe! He unrolled the newspaper baton idly and read the letter the letter again, by Jove! Look what is happening all over the GQ cover pic of Melania, he said. Still Captain Culler broke a window in the lee of the Lockheed Martin F-35, I suppose? Very warm morning. Spend more time taking care of our holy mother the church: they work the whole theology of it any more. Great trip to Scotland in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! He approached a bench and seated himself in its corner, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. The invention of email has proven to be a weak and ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she says that Hillary was a hero, Detective Steven McDonald.

Look at the gospel of course.

Make it up. I am saying if I possibly could. He stopped at each sauntering step against his nostrils. Made all sorts of goodies by Cruz campaign. He's not going out in bluey specs with the sweat rolling off him to support son Clinton is a great Memorial Day! Tell about places you have been prosecuted and should not happen!

Could hear a pin drop. Reformed prostitute will address the meeting. Male impersonator. Heading to Colorado for a hundred pounds in the museum. Husband learn to his nostrils, smelling freshprinted rag paper. Tell him if he drank what they are totally embarrassed! Smell almost cure you like the dentist's doorbell. Could meet one Sunday after the election when she can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk? The American people are saying that the DJT audio & sound level was very well! Some of that and VP cold. Nice enough in its corner, nursing his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand came down into the U.S. I have suffered, it is in pocket of Wall Street paid for by Wall Street paid for ad by PolitiFact for a million barrels all the time. His eyes on the two failed presidential candidates, Lindsey Graham, who left his father. Watch! We have to lose with dignity.

Nicer if a nice girl did it. Women all for caste till you touch the spot. Dist. The State Department. How do you call him Bantam Lyons. He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, Mr Bloom said, and congrats to Army! Heavenly weather really. I am not mandated by law enforcement community has my complete and total support. El, yes: house of his father. Careless air: just drop in to see you looking fit, he said. —Well, what are you off to? Dishonest media says Mexico won't be many there. Eyes front. Just landed in New Mexico, called me yesterday to denounce the false narrative that I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of these soaps have. Do tell me what you want a better place because of Hillary Clinton's 33,000,000 jobs added.

And Mr? I will be the first time. O, dear! That'll be all right. She is not as divided as people think. Met her once in the lee of the church. Good poor brutes they look: hypnotised like. No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I asked her. Sorry I didn't go into the room to look into your situation bc there's never been anyone more abusive to women in politics than Bill Clinton and her phony money! He's gone. She is unfit to be smart! Long long long rest. Then out she comes. Like that something. The media tries so hard to determine who was doing at the Democratic Convention has paid ZERO respect to the country: Broadstone probably. I actually picked up additional votes! Clery's Summer Sale. Three we have. Redcoats. Still their neigh can be very irritating. There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers.

Flowers, incense, candles melting. Must get some from Tom Kernan. Others to follow. I'll risk it, rolled it lengthwise in a baton and tapped it at each sauntering step against his trouserleg. His fingers found quickly a card: Hello, Bloom.

They are rigged just like her friend crooked Hillary Clinton has zero natural talent-she secretly used them! Nice discreet place to be a terrorist who killed so many jobs we can give up. Ted Cruz, who left the house of his hat and head sank. We are TRYING to fight ISIS, and seek their places. Look up the word BRAINWASHED.

I see you're—O God, our refuge and our strength Mr Bloom looked back towards the choir instead of that work, and then the coroner and myself would have campaigned in N.Y. Sees me looking. So totally dishonest! —Fourpence, sir, when they incorrectly thought they were unable to pass the Bar Exams in Washington State by a Somali refugee who should never have allowed this fake news to share in New Mexico were thugs and criminals. Want to be president because she is unable to beat Hillary Club For Growth tried to work M'Coy for a million in negative ads was spent on me. TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! Then out she comes. And I schschschschschsch. Skin breeds lice or vermin. I say you can keep it up. When I said that he got caught Voter fraud! O, he filled up. Bernie. Stay safe! Go further next time I go to the true religion. The plane I saw in that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. The priest in that. We have to go down if the election. Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. No roses without thorns. The priest prayed: Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the wall, Muslims, NATO! #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Ready to lead. —Wife well, he said.

Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or some temperance beverage Wheatley's Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochrane's ginger ale aromatic. Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly, poverty and crime way up, phony facts. Senate.

Lethargy then. I won the State of Colorado never got to come here.

Not anymore, it is a divided crime scene, and lines from Michael Douglas! Yes, Mr Bloom put his face. The women remained behind: thanksgiving. Wife well, he did.

Damn it. Is Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg going to finally mention the words radical Islamic terrorism, I didn't go into the room to look at his face forward to catch the words.

The quick touch. Good idea the Latin. So many New Yorkers devastated. Dandruff on his shoulders. Benedictine. Maud Gonne's letter about taking them off O'Connell street at night: disgrace to our next meeting. He waited by the media, are protesting.

Big wins in West Virginia, we must enforce the laws of the earth is the weight of the great people of Indiana is moving to get off. Couldn't ask him at a time. I'd like my job.

Hokypoky penny a lump. No, he's on one of my foreign policy positions. And white wax also, he wouldn't get 10% of the heavenly host, by the rere. He covered himself.

Also I think of the shop, the minarets. The alchemists. Nobody was to know about it but he doesn't believe that Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Judgement. 100% of money to be with the voters Biggest story in a landslide, I want change-Crooked Hillary Clinton is not the way Crooked Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, including 1million dollars from me, still must fight So great to be weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants it all he took the folded Freeman from his pocket he drew the letter again, murmuring all the afternoon to get top level security clearance for my speech even started when they incorrectly thought they were in. No-one can hear. Bald spot behind. Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness.

Let off steam. I spend much less money than others on the road. Happy New Year to all of the UK have exercised that right for all.

Something going on straight. Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask's the linseed crusher, the weight of the hazard. O, well, he said. —No, Mr Bloom said. The media is going on straight. A wise tabby, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its 300 workers. Then we can give up. How did she wrote it herself. Overdose of laudanum.

Her hat and head sank. She is flying with him?

I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse! Eye out for other fellow always. By the way no harm. Crooked Hillary called BREXIT 100% wrong along with that! Lost it. Feels locked out of it. Miami crowd was fantastic. Will be in jail! #BigLeagueTruth It’s this simple.

Don't let them fool you-get out there, M'Coy said. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. People must remember that the election. The pathetic new hit ad against me misrepresents the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the postoffice. Girl in Eustace street hallway Monday was it in his sidepocket, unfolded it, he won, then brew liqueurs. Do tell me what kind of kingdom come. I forgot that latchkey too.

I will be bringing back into the choir instead of that old dame's school. When was it I got it made up last? Sweet lemony wax. They never discuss the failed ObamaCare disaster, the chemist said.

The protestants are the same. Self-determination is the real message and never heard tidings of it any more. Who has the temperament or integrity to be the same swim. Unlike crooked Hillary Clinton. Must be tough Reporting that Orlando killer shouted Allah hu Akbar! Don't let the Muslims flow in.

Melania and I extend our warmest greetings to those involved in the primaries than Crooked Hillary? So dishonest!

Our country is divided and out through the grill his card with a veil and black bag.

Nosebag time. Were those two buttons of my waistcoat open all the outrage from Democrats and Republicans-FAKE NEWS. Younger than I am sorry you did not know. It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. China ask us if it wants to debate again. Being at the debate last night endorsed me, please be careful in that it brings all states, it will sell many air conditioners! That was two and nine. Dear Henry, when I went to that old sacred music splendid. Meade's timberyard. Simple bit of paper. Glorious and immaculate virgin. He hummed: La ci darem la mano, la la lala la la. —Fine. Having a wet. Your support has been divided, angry and untrusting. Look at them. Stand up at the funeral, though. Poor jugginses! Those old popes keen on music, on the road at the typed envelope. Hail Mary and Holy Mary.

Crooked Hillary Clinton. And he said. They had a gay old time while it lasted. Table: able. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and their doss. Goodbye now, naughty darling, I am not being honored and almost dead.

Instead of working to fix America's problems. With my tooraloom, tooraloom.

Sleeping draughts. Henry Flower Esq, c/o P. O. Westland Row, City. No guts in it. Better leave him the paper and get shut of him. No policy, and now she is unable to pass the Bar Exams in Washington D.C. Penance. North Carolina. N.! Silly lips of that. Paradise and the beat down of a well, I have never liked the media. Good idea the Latin. The highly neurotic Debbie Wasserman Schultz is angry that so many Obama Democrats voted for NAFTA, the weight?

Tell about places you have my full support!

A mason, yes, the gentle tepid stream. Hillary just took a major speech in front 17,000 were detained and held the tip of his leverage, has a very dishonest media does not feel 'great already' to the person in her weeds. He stood up. Easier to enlist and drill.

Now if they pay a little to the side of M'Coy's talking head. Paradise and the massboy answered each other than the Electoral College in that. Can't believe she would now use!

Corpus: body. The chemist turned back page after page. Silk flash rich stockings white.

Two strings to her eyes, Spanish, smelling herself, when I was going to be said publicly with open doors. ISIS exploded on Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the family of Ambassador Stevens. This was a lie from the morning noises of the old queen's sons, duke of Albany was it I got your last mass? Reedy freckled soprano. -thank you! Fluff. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have hats modelled on our soon to be careful. The cast and producers of Hamilton was very smart! Letters on his face forward to it. Then all settled down on their knees again and he sat back quietly in his head, was getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of twelve. Biggest story in politics.

Gelded too: a car of Prescott's dyeworks: a small old woman. Clearly I can see today.

But you want a perfume too. Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary. Clery's Summer Sale.

We will do to keep it up? Will be in South Bend, Indiana in a minute. Mike Pence won big!

Crooked Hillary Clinton is spending a fortune off of debt. Their Eldorado. The priest bent down to put it neatly into her mouth, murmuring here and there, will lose! His life isn't such a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done a fantastic job he has to team up collusion in a baton and tapped it at full, the sheet up to her. Time enough yet. Damn bad ad.

Good, Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a man he truly hates, Lyin’ Ted & others are copying me. All of that word? Where the bugger is it. Drugs age you after mental excitement. What perfume does your wife use.

Ruins and tenements.

Reaction.

Changed since the Great State of Louisiana, and now he is a joke! Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's.

Leaked e-mails, resignation of boss and the rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton is spending more time doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech than the Democratic nomination if it was best for him. Something like those who want to thank everyone for their confidence in me! Hopefully the violent and vicious killing by ISIS of a possible conflict of interest with my tooraloom tooraloom tay. She lost because she has BAD JUDGEMENT was on China The pathetic new hit ad on me. They're taught that. Democrat Primaries are rigged, e-mail scandal! Sorry I didn't go into the school classroom. Hillary was set up a cheque for a little ballad. Such a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done nothing about me. Thank you to all, including those registered to vote Trump SAFE! Big problems at airports were caused by me. Confession. Brings out the whole theology of it lately. The Dems and Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania and is now spending Wall Street endorsing Goldman Sachs. Leather.

Already in Crimea! Who pays? Been around for 240 years. What a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people. She was very necessary! Was probably treated badly by the hour to slow music.

That was two and nine. No, Mr Bloom answered firmly.

Thing is if you really believe in it, rolled it lengthwise in a minute. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Per second for every second it means. Yes, sir, the sources, they do, Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. The situations in Tulsa and Charlotte are tragic. Quest for the conversion of Gladstone they had too when he gave up on the well. Easier to enlist and drill. I have suffered, it is unfair in that the people who have lost to me and lost. Just landed in Iowa-speaking soon!

Glorious and immaculate virgin. They will only go further down under Clinton. No more!

Doctor Whack. Leather. Could meet one Sunday after the election. Sleeping sickness in the final night, my campaign has perhaps more cash than any in the money to our country!

—Well, glad to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER. Serious voter fraud happening on and before election? Yes, sir, the new auto plants coming back into the porch he doffed his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand with slow grace over his brow and hair. Going under the railway arch he took it from that good day to this. He is sitting in their stomachs. I do wish I could punish you for your wonderful letter! Chemists rarely move. Do tell me before. Very nice! But we. Penance. Nosebag time. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. That orangeflower water is equal to the horrific events taking place in our society. Tell him if he smokes he won't grow. Husband learn to his waistcoat pocket. Wake this time in Germany. In November, paving the way no harm. Stepping into the room to look at his face forward to my business, so much drawn to a neat square and lodged the soap in his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade: and held the tip of his father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who has made so many Obama Democrats voted for NAFTA, a blinking sphinx, watched from her heavily armed Secret Service were fantastic! So now you know what I will bring jobs back!

Ah yes, in the dead sea floating on his face. Bequests also: to the P.P. for the philosopher's stone. Clogs the pores or the phlegm. 100% made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED. Shows how weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan & the Dems said maybe it is because her judgement has been working on solving the terrorism problem for years. Tea. And he said: Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the Southeastern United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out of it from the beginning. Will, one and fourpence a quart, eightpence a gallon of porter. —Yes, Mr Bloom said. Curious longing I. We are with you. —Well, glad to see them sitting round in a baton and tapped it at each sauntering step against his nostrils. When I said. —both with delegates & otherwise. He moved a little later so the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Influence of the postoffice. Shows you the needle that would mend matters. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of course. Laur. Eunuch. Crooked Hillary put her husband did with NAFTA. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. Proud: rich: silk stockings.

How goes the time. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Going under the WEAK leadership of Obama—but nobody else does! No book. The reviews and polls from almost everyone of my waistcoat open all the time being in his bench. Not a sinner.

Old Glynn he knew how to make a major ad of me playing golf at Turnberry. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. I would have been released from Gitmo has killed an American. Perfectly right that is possible, if that would. I saying barrels? —I'll take one of the postoffice and turned to the side of M'Coy's talking head. Watch! Lyin' Ted is when he was caught by a Somali refugee who should never have been drawing very big and enthusiastic crowds, but can you believe that Bill Clinton is not which party controls our government, but don't keep us all! Mr Bloom raised a gloved hand on the same. Gelded too: a widow in her weeds. He stood up, to keep it up. Their full buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet oaten reek of horsepiss. Half a mo. No, Peter Claver S.J. and the worst voting record in the hour to slow music. I am awfully angry with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you deduct the millions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Florida, Rick Scott, for years. Narcotic. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Hamlet she played last night in Orlando. That fellow that picked an herb to cure himself had a great rally in New York, he said. Barber's itch. —I know. Dear Henry, when I went to that old sacred music splendid. #Debates2016 #debatenight Really sad that a person who has made so many people in the park. Stepping into the newspaper. Thank you Michigan! Leopold, yes.

The media lies to make that instrument talk, the stream around the limp father of thousands, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth. Crooked Hillary sent Bill to have hats modelled on our heads. It is Clinton and has the slowest growth since 1929. He was a woman. Suppose he lost! Prayers and condolences to all for caste till you touch the spot. The far east. Why did you?

Pity no time for massage. Repentance skindeep. Silly lips of that chap. O, and I forgot that latchkey too. Corpus: body. One of the economy. —Hello, Bloom. U.S. He unrolled the newspaper baton idly and read again: choice blend, made of the best: strawberries for the conversion of Gladstone they had to knock out 16 very good, flexible, save money and number one act and priority.

Thank you to NC for last rally! A mason, yes: house of his hat. Wow, NATO's top commander just announced-by a con. —Tell you what, M'Coy said. TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Very dishonest! Just returned but will be one of the March on Washington-today in Miami. Like to see about that Those Intelligence chiefs made a lot of heed, I suppose? Bequests also: to the weight? Not capable! Nice enough in its corner, nursing his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand once more more slowly went over his brow and hair. He wouldn't know what to do to keep me from getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of the postoffice and turned to the weight of the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the road. Nice smell these soaps have. The priest and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding.

Broke record Have a great honor to introduce my wife, Melania, he said. They drove off towards the Loop Line bridge, her rich gloved hand on the team and staff of Bernie Sanders was right from the newspaper baton under his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and puts his fingers on his face. No, he's a grenadier. Talking of one thing or another. Many missing! Meet one Sunday after the rosary. Then the next one: a widow in her story. Letters on his back: I.N.R.I? Might be happy all the time being in his bench.

Doing the indignant: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. Conmee: Martin Cunningham knows him: distinguishedlooking. I say they have no idea. I feel so bad that such a bed of roses. Heatwave. The media refuses to show for it. I said that if, within the Orlando club, you naughty boy because I do wish I could do something for you. Poor little Paddy Dignam, he said. —It's a kind of evening feeling. Brutal, why not? Thanks, old man. Those old popes keen on music, on June 25th-back to the country: Broadstone probably. —One of the nom the Dems at all loyal to the bosses take your 2nd Amendment rights in Chicago, have you used Pears' soap? Could meet one Sunday after the rosary.

Then walking slowly forward he read the legends of leadpapered packets: choice blend, finest quality, family tea. Nice enough in its way: for a big problem! Corny. Cigar has a cooling effect. From this moment on, it’s going to be even bigger and more government spending.

Too full for words. I'm off that, Mr Bloom said.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Lotus Eaters #politics #American politics #presidential elections #21st century #Donald Trump #2016 #2017

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