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attemptinghaikyuu · 4 years ago

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Fake Dating: Akaashi✨

A/n: I’m a simple person, with simple needs, and what I need is Akaashi to be real and tell me I’m doing a good job...

G/n reader

Akaashi Keiji

You met through your friend Bokuto

He had introduced you two at a volleyball game at the start of the school year

Akaashi was quiet, but you and Bokuto managed to pull him into a conversation, even getting a couple laughs out of him, which is rare

Don’t worry, you cherish the smiles and laughter you get from him, you can tell he doesn’t do it too often

You also found out he was in the same year as you

The next day when you got lost on your way to class, he helped out

It was friendship from there baby✨

Oh, you’re not feeling well??? Akaashi is pulling you to the side, asking if everything’s alright

You don’t wanna bother anyone about a problem?? Akaashi is their, he can just tell when something’s up and will be helping if he can

If it’s making you uncomfortable and talking about it isn’t what you want???? That’s fine too, Akaashi is there comforting you with just his presence

When Akaashi is nervous (and you can tell by the way he plays with his fingers) you do everything in your power to get him feeling better

Telling jokes, giving advice, hugging him, some space and an ear to listen?? You are trying it ALL

Sometimes y’all will compete to see who can get Bokuto out of his emo moods first

And not gonna lie, it can get intense

No messing around, it’s almost an all out war

Sure, it was fun and games at first, but somewhere in that chill competition, things became do or die

Oh, your friend is sad cause he didn’t remember to bring a water bottle?

The squeak of shoes, as you and Akaashi sprint, to get your own bottles can be heard by everyone in the gym

Everyone: *sigh* just another day at pra-

Y/n and Akaashi: *wrestling each other to the floor* victory will be mINE!!!

The only problem is, Bokuto ends up figuring out what the two of you are doing, and he gets so flattered and excited over his two best friends working to make him feel better, that he’s instantly up and smiling

Now you have no idea who wins

When you try to ask, he says you did it together and you have a group hug

Bokuto, thank you..

You still wanna know who won though >:/

The volleyball team ends up voting to choose who the winner is (it was you this time!)

The team loves you!! Half of them have a crush on you

You’re too busy being a dumbass, doing dumbass things to notice though😭

Other teams that Fukurodani go up against, will see you and sometimes they’ll try to ask for you’re number

Usually, you’re around someone on the team, so people don’t mess with you too much

There too intimidated

However, you couldn’t be around them all the time

You really needed to go the bathroom at the game that had just ended, and you had some time before you could meet up with your friends

You’re actually pretty quick, since you wanna talk to Akaashi about a math problem you’re stuck on

You already told him you needed his help with it, he’d probably be looking for you soon

Finishing drying your hands, you run out of the restroom to search for him, only to be stopped by a player on the losing teams side

He pins you to the wall and dang... he’s tall and you can’t move away

He’s asking for something

It’s incredibly hard to pay attention to what

You only picked out a few words, those being: number, cutie, and my house

ItS pAnIcK tImE🥳🎉

You consider punching him

Before you can try, someone’s pushing the guy away and grabbing your hand, gently tugging you away from him

“Sorry, but I’m afraid my S/o and I need to go and celebrate a certain victory, against the team we just beat.”

The guy is spluttering as you two walk away

You feel a squeeze to your hand, and when you look up at your friend, you can’t help the smile that finds it’s way to your face

“Thanks Akaashi, or should I say, my heroic boyfriend?” You teased, pausing when you hear an unholy screech

“WHAT???” Bokuto looks between you two from behind. “ARE MY BEST FRIENDS DATING WITHOUT TELLING ME?!”

“Wait, Bokuto that’s n-

He’s not letting you finish that sentence😔

It’s pretty funny until he brings up a classmate who you do not like, they’re always rude and don’t stop when you ask them to leave you alone

Well, apparently they’ll be disappointed to know your taken

Akaashi can feel you stiffen beside him while Bokuto talks about them

He knows they’re not the nicest, so he’s also surprised that they like you

He makes a split second decision to get the person to leave you alone

“Bokuto-san, we were actually about to tell you, we planned our first date for after the volleyball game and we wanted it to be a surprise.”

Your shocked squeak is covered up in Bokuto’s shouted “Heys!” of understanding

Once outside, away from Bokuto, you ask Akaashi what’s going on

“Your classmate, the one Bokuto was talking about, if they think we’re dating, then chances are they’ll leave you alone.” He says it like it’s obvious, and it does, honestly make sense

You nod your head slowly, questioning one last thing, “Why not tell Bokuto? Shouldn’t he know... I mean, he’ll tell everyone we’re dating..”

“Bokuto wears all his feelings on his sleeve, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone we’re dating like it’s true, if he knows we aren’t,” he turns to you. “Don’t worry, we can explain everything once no one’s bothering you.”

And ya know what, y’all kinda knew what you were signing up for

It was obvious Bokuto would tell people about your newfound relationship!!

You just didn’t know the whole school would know by the next day

Most everyone is in tears over the two of you dating

People are mourning the fact that they now have zero chances of dating either of you

It’s a bit awkward to adjust at first

But Akaashi makes it easy to get into little habits

Hand holding becomes your favorite, you fidget with each other’s hands a lot too

It’s really comforting having him by your side

He makes this dating stuff simple, it’s a team effort that you’re never afraid of working on

You both fit together so well, that you forget it was to get your jerk of a classmate, to leave you alone

That’s why, after six months, you’ve completely forgotten it was fake

I mean, who wouldn’t?? Akaashi literally makes it impossible for it to feel fake

He’s doing cheesy couple things constantly

And you do them right back

Little notes, that have cute reminders to drink water and take breaks or getting each other’s favorite snacks on stressful days, is a regular

Simple gestures from Akaashi, seem to mean a lot more to you now

Because you definitely like him and don’t consider what you have as fake🥺💖

So, after the teams victory at nationals, high on adrenaline, you and Akaashi, sprint to each other, and kiss

It’s super dramatic

Bokuto is screaming over how happy he is for his friends, the team is silently wishing they could be in the middle of that kiss, and Akaashi’s pulling away with a chuckle and question

“I hope this means you feel the same way that I do?” He pauses to interlace your fingers. “Because I really like you.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x gender neutral reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x you #fluff #fake dating #this ones kinda on the harem side #but Akaashi’s s/o would definitely have a harem #like him :3 #twinning

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docholligay · 3 years ago

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The Winners Are:

Children’s Corner: PGSM, by a wide margin

TV: The Twilight Zone BY ONE VOTE

Holligay Hates: Sailor Moon Crystal: Eternal BY THREE VOTES

Writing: Holligay Rants and Raves by THREE VOTES

Other: Combine Holligay Hates Everything and Noted English Major Holligay into one unholy streusel wherein Holligay must analyze Friends as if it’s a work of Proust BY THREE VOTES AND I AM GOING TO WRITE DOWN EVERY PERSON WHO VOTED FOR THIS AND PRAY THAT YOU INDIVIDUALLY ALL DEVELOP AN ALLERGY TO YOUR FAVORITE FOOD.

I Pitch You: Picnic at Hanging Rock, which won by such a shockingly wide margin I checked for cheating and found no evidence of such. I love this show but also find its win extremely bizarre! I figured no one had even heard of this, and generally those don’t do well!

Pitch me: I have two I’ve winnowed it down to, I may just flip a coin:

Justified: “In the deep, dark hills of eastern Kentucky / That's the place where I trace my bloodline / And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone / ‘You will never leave Harlan alive’” It’s not the theme song of Justified, but it comes pretty close. It’s what plays for Raylan when he gets dragged back to those beautiful hills, all soaked in memories and blood. Harlan’s a place that you try to leave. It’s not somewhere you can escape, but he’ll keep trying. That might be the only thing that sets him apart from the man he hates most.

Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju: Performance as legacy, as a prison, as an escape, and how it bleeds through into off-stage existence, all wrapped up with a bow of historical high drama.

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banana-with-a-bow-tie · 4 years ago

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The purpose of this post is not to argue that Biden was, or was not, fraudulently elected in the 2020 president election, but to keep a biblical perspective.

Sources report that 47% of American voters believe that large-scale fraud handed the election to Biden/Harris. Nevertheless, 49% say that fraud was unlikely. A recent NPR/Ipsos poll reported that 67% of Republicans and 11% of Democrats surveyed believe that voter fraud gave Biden election. However, the same survey showed that 19% of Republicans and 85% of Democrats disagree. In either case, dozens of millions of voters believe that there was fraud, and dozens of millions believe that there was not. Numbers do not prove whether or not it happened. The point here is that a huge swath of the US population believes that voter fraud helped usher in the next president.

It’s likely that someone you sing next to in church believes that there is ample evidence of fraud, and is grieved about it. Disdaining them as crazy conspiracists is not the best approach (cf. 1 Cor. 13:4-7, Col. 3:12-17). After all, if you’re a Christian, you believe that a peasant Hebrew crucified as a vile criminal will one day appear in the sky standing on clouds.

So for those who do feel that there was fraud, what would Scripture suggest you do? Even if there was, here are a few considerations from God’s word on the issue.

God is sovereign over unrighteousness

“In the day of prosperity be happy, but in the day of adversity consider— God has made the one as well as the other So that man will not discover anything that will be after him” (Eccles. 7:14).

Though he is not pleased with it, God is sovereign over all sin. If there was fraud, though it would grieve God, he is sovereign over it. God remains in control even in the most wretched times (Lam. 3:37-38). He was sovereign over the wretched rule of Egypt (Exod. 2:23-25), the wicked rule of Israel’s enemies in Judges (Judg. 2:14), the evil of the Assyrian deportation (2 Kings 17), the wickedness of the Babylonian exile (2 Kings 25), the unrighteousness of Herod and the Romans (Matt. 2:15), and he was even sovereign over the treacherous treatment of His own Son: “this Man, delivered over by the predetermined plan and foreknowledge of God, you nailed to a cross by the hands of godless men and put Him to death” (Acts 2:23). Despite all of this evil—often committed by governing authorities—God was never de-sovereigned by it.

“His sovereignty rules over all” (Ps. 103:19).

2. The Lord is still on the throne

No evil agenda, large or small, has ever successfully removed God from his throne. And evil men and nations have tried. They’ve done everything in their power, with satanic and demonic reinforcements, to dethrone God. It hasn’t happened and it never will (Ps. 93:1-5). The permanence of the Lord’s position on the throne of the universe is laughably unthreatened by even the greatest evils of man.

“The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against His Anointed, saying, 3 ‘Let us tear their fetters apart and cast away their cords from us!’ 4 He who sits in the heavens laughs, the Lord scoffs at them” (Ps. 2:2-4).

The sovereign, supreme rule of the God of the Bible is no more threatened by unrighteous doings and agendas of earthly rulers than his rule is threatened by a cockroach coughing in a Los Angeles sewer.

“The Lord reigns, let the peoples tremble; He is enthroned above the cherubim, let the earth shake!” (Ps. 99:1).

3. God will use unrighteousness for good

One of the ways that God proves he is sovereign is by orchestrating evil for good. We have history to prove that: Joseph’s suffering and saving a nation (Gen. 50:20), Pharaoh housing the messianic nation and its growth, the cross of Jesus Christ, and countless examples since then. Throughout history, God has masterfully moved the evil of man and government to accomplish his purposes, the greatest of which was the cross. Jesus was the recipient of unprecedented civil corruption, and God did a pretty decent job at ensuring that worked out well. We might not see how God orchestrates evil for good this side of heaven, but he’ll take care of it (Rom. 8:28). God is trustworthy.

4. Jesus is still building his church

The church has survived the harshest storms wicked men have to offer. She was birthed into the Roman Empire, who actively opposed her existence. Despite three centuries therein of persecution, her growth continued. Satan and his world have always hated and resisted the church. Even so, she has spread from Israel, to the Roman Empire through the Apostles, and to places like Africa through the Ethiopian Euncuh, the New Hebrides through John Paton, Burma through Adoniram Judson, China through Hudson Taylor, the middle east through Samuel Zwemer, and the list goes on. It’s almost like unrighteous circumstances helps the church thrive. Whatever the case, the church will never die out because Christ builds it (Matt. 16:18).

5. We are still to be about the kingdom of God

Unregenerate enemies attempted several times to distract Nehemiah and God’s people from sticking to the essential task of rebuilding the wall (Neh. 6:4). What they did was wicked. But Nehemiah and crew stuck to the main thing (Neh. 6:3-9).

In these New Covenant days, there are no less enemies and distractions that seek to pull us down from the wall. But we must keep the main thing the main thing. The kingdom of God is that thing. Regardless of what happens, our sovereign God would have us give ourselves completely to involvement in our local churches, godliness, disciple-making, prayer, love, and the word. Let us not get down from the wall (1 Cor. 15:58).

6. God will uphold justice perfectly

God is a perfect, omniscient God. Nothing escapes his notice. He is perfectly good, too, which means evil will not prevail. Regardless what someone appears to get away with, they will stand before God in the judgment (Rom. 12:17-21, Rev. 20:11-15).

7. We are all liars and sinners

An election fraud allegation is to say that lying occurred; massive, consequential lying. Among the list of things God hates, lying is mentioned twice (Prov. 6:16-19). However, people are lying every day; politicians, employers, employees, nobodies, and neighbors. Everyone lies. Lying can no more be separated from humans than their shadow. “Let God be true and every man a liar” (Rom. 3:4). That means we, too, have lied. No one is exempt. God is the only One who has never lied nor will ever.

Our lies may not be as socially consequential as others, but God is the one we stand before. On top of being liars, we are all atrociously unholy before the holy God of the universe (Rom. 3:10-19). This God requires perfection (Matt. 5:48). So, we have nothing to offer God except wickedness and weakness in and of ourselves. Due to our nature and doings, we stand guilty and unacceptable before God. Since we have all sinned against a holy God, an individual who never orchestrated widespread voter fraud deserves to spend eternity in the same hell as someone who did (Rom. 2:1-5).

8. Jesus died on the cross and rose from the grave

However, God did not leave us to ourselves. Moved by his own compassion on sinners, and not because of anything good or righteous in us, God looked upon us with pity (Rom. 3:10-12, Eph. 1:3-6). Incredibly, our offenses against God in thought, word, nature, and deed did not move him to justly boot us all into hell. No, far from it. He radically humbled himself by joining human nature to himself and was born a baby (Phil. 2:5-7). Though he deserved unceasing worship from every human, Jesus received scorn, hate, and a humiliating and brutal crucifixion (Phil. 2:8). He received all of this on purpose in obedience to his Father’s plan to atone for the sin of his people (John 10:18). Though thoroughly sinful, Jesus so loved his people that he referred to them as, “My sheep” (John 10:26-27). Jesus then rose from the grave victorious, validating his saving work for his sheep. This is a great love, indeed. And it has everything to do with those struggling with the unrighteousness around them: we’ve all sinned, Jesus died and rose for us, and our greatest need has been met.

9. We are to pray

As every human nation and government will be filled with unrighteousness, God now calls his people to pray.

“First of all, then, I urge that entreaties and prayers, petitions and thanksgivings, be made on behalf of all men, 2 for kings and all who are in authority, so that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity” (1 Tim. 2:1-2).

We are to pray for so many encouraging reasons: God hears (Ps. 65:2), God answers and works through prayer (1 Sam. 1:10-11, John 15:7), we are commanded to (1 Tim. 2:1-2), it shows that we are depending on our sovereign God (Luke 11:8), and it is an act of worship whereby God brings glory to himself (Rev. 8:3). If we find ourselves in the rut of angst at times, let us pray. We are to pray and pray and pray, and not lose heart (Luke 11:5-8, 18:1-8; Thess. 5:17).

10. Heaven will be great

Jesus often mentioned that we are to live for our permanent, future, unseen, and eternal home with him and all the redeemed (Matt. 16:24-27). While being present and prayerful, this world is passing, visible, dying, and temporal (1 John 2:17).

In heaven, there will be no voter fraud. They’ll be no voting, for that matter. Why should there be? The forever King will be the single most loving, wise, righteous, just, and perfect Individual in the universe, the blessed Lord Jesus Christ (Isa. 9:6-7, John 1:17, Phil. 2:8-11).

“And the Lord will be king over all the earth; in that day the Lord will be the only one, and His name the only one” (Zech. 14:9).

Of course, more could be said here. As God’s people, we are abundantly furnished with what we need to face these rocky times in a manner pleasing to him. Whatever happens, may the Lord’s church abound in faithfulness and fruitfulness.

#long post #but an important one

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redhawtriot · 5 years ago

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Caught in the Act (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

So… this is technically like half of the request but I had way too many ideas for this (and its already long as hell. oops). I’m only doing one Bakugou cheating scenario on this page so go big or go home, right?

I also saw that this blog that I made like two weeks ago has like 100 of you guys following it wtf?! So to celebrate, I’m making my first actual series an interactive one! The following chapters will be very short (besides this one, she thicc), but each will have a question at the end that will determine the events of the next chapter! I made an account on OpinionStage where you guys can vote on through Tumblr, so hopefully at least one of you is excited.

Part two (the other half of this request) is where this fun will begin, so stay whelmed.

Fuck this site for making me repost this :)

Love you guys

HnM💕

Warning: Don’t read this to your fucking kids

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Essentially, your girls night for the week had been, in lack of better words, a shit show.

The brisk, fall air pierced your skin, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You didn’t even want to touch your sticky filth.

You just wanted to run home to your Bakugou– he was all the warmth that you needed and more. More than anything, you wanted to forget about the foul man that had assaulted you at your now ex-favorite club.

A frown momentarily sneaked its way onto your face to corrupt the brave expression you had held in front of your girlfriends,

“Hey” you had raised your hands to halt your friend, “Don’t do something ridiculous! I promise I’m alright, Jirou!” You had begged her when she had prepared to fight the man as he grabbed your arms. You had already politely asked him to back away from you after he tried to grind himself against you. He called it dancing—you called it sexual harassment.

The nightclub security had already been watching this man and immediately closed in on him to escort him out of the club as soon as he moved in towards you. But it must not have been fast enough.

Everything happened so rapidly that you could barely blink in time before you were drenched in a sticky liquid. Still, you kept a calm expression on your face. Your friends’ careers as heroes depended on how calmly you acted,

“No, it’s okay! I needed to head home anyway!” you had argued with your girls after the man had thrown his drink at you. You tried to bring a smile onto your face as the slight sting of the alcohol penetrated your eyes, “Bakugou will pick me up,” you blinked heavily.

Of course he wouldn’t pick you up in front of the club.

No, that would just be a disaster waiting to happen.

He would more than likely blow the entire place up once he found out what had transpired.

However, after the fourth failed attempt at calling Bakugou, you had given up. It was honestly a stretch anyway. He barely made it past nine o’ clock most nights, and it was well on its way to midnight. You could see your breath as you gave off a heavy sigh, but you never faltered in your steps.

You just wanted to go home to your man, clean your pathetic ass in a hot shower, and forget other men existed in this world.

You groaned to yourself as you remembered how late your guys’ roommate, Kirishima, would stay up in the front living room playing video games—the same front living room you would have to sneak past to make your way to the sanctuary of your shower.

You opened the front door as quietly as you could and prodded your, matted, liquor-contaminated head into the threshold of your home. You probably looked like a wild animal as you scrunched your eyebrows and stared at the dark living room for a while before finally building up the courage to tiptoe towards your bathroom.

You didn’t even want to go to your room in fear of interrogation from a very sleepy, very pissed off Bakugou.

Better not poke the bear. Better just wash the stink and sins away and keep it moving like nothing had happened.

Kirishima not being awake on his Xbox for once was a blessing on a normal day, but today it was truly god sent. Hell, even Bakugou not being able to pick you up might have been a blessing in disguise—or so you thought.

As soon as you turned your shower off you heard it– a steady, creaking noise.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself as your face crinkled upwards in disgust. Kirishima hardly ever brought girls home, and when he did, he was as quiet as a mouse with them. In fact, you hardly even knew the women were there until the next morning when they awkwardly wobbled out of the apartment with their heads tucked down.

The pace of the creaking sped up and the smack of the headboard joined in a repetitive thudding, causing you to freeze in place. Breathless feminine moans joined the little musical number in increasing volume for short while before they became more ‘shrieky’ in nature.

A grimace fell upon your expression, “What the fuck?” you once again mouthed. You quickly snatched your towel and wrapped it around you with haste as you tried to run from the unholy concerto that was being orchestrated in your room.

Wait.

Your room?

Your room was the room that was connected to the bathroom walls—not Kiri’s.

It was in that moment of realization that you heard the moans return, this time a gruff male voice joined the duet,

“Shit!” The moan was drawn out until it faded into a heavy, guttural groan.

You paused again as your heart dropped deeply into your chest. You stretched your hearing and waited for his voice to appear again over her constant whines, “Just like that, baby,” his voice reemerged as he groaned deeply. Your heart harshly reminded you of its existence as it lurched suddenly.

That sounded like Bakugou.

But it had to be a mistake. You rehearsed this thought repeatedly as you sped to your room as quietly as you could—your mind racing even faster than your legs. Your Bakugou was sound asleep in his bed like he was this time of night every night. He was sound asleep and stretched out on his side of the bed with the lights off and with a sock thrown over the flashing light of his work desk computer—he hated that light at night.

You faltered as your hand stuttered uncontrollably toward your door handle. Bakugou’s never even looked at another woman before. It took him years to throw even you, his current fiancé, a second glance. He would never in a million years be on the other side of this door with another woman making those ungodly sounds.

Sounds you hadn’t heard in months.

It had to be Kirishima you tried to convince yourself as you gently twisted the door handle, ‘Please god, he just went into the wrong room,’ you prayed as you threw the door open.

Every single muscle in your body froze as you ingested the sight in front of you—your heart included.

You caught the tail end of their act, and you could only watch in complete disgust as the muscles of your beloved’s back violently contracted in sweat glistened pulses.

The woman made horrified eye contact with you as she was being pinned against your grandmother’s dresser, yet she couldn’t fight the last moan that ripped itself from her, her legs spasming as Bakugou’s flesh smacked into hers for a final time.

He desperately pressed himself into her like he was trying to become her, “Fuck,” he groaned into her neck. You noticed his nails dig deeply into her raised wrists as his hips rashly stuttered to a stop, “Don’t clench around me like that, babe. Relax.” His shaky breath demanded.

The woman looked far from relaxed, “H-Hey!” she anxiously tapped his shoulder, trying to warn him of their impending doom. Her wide eyes were still fixated on your ever-growing livid ones.

“BAKUGOU!” You screeched. The relaxed emotion that you had so desperately tried to keep plastered onto your face that night completely shattered as you angrily marched up to him and snatched the back of his hair, “You bastard!!”

As you yanked downward, he surprisingly fell to the ground, disconnecting with the other slut on trial as they both flew to the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled as his body heavily thudded into the ground.

“That’s my line, you fucking jackass!” you felt your voice crack. Everything hurt. There was pressure in the back of your eyes, the front of your chest, your legs, your throat, your toes, your everything. Everything in your body felt weak under your boiling blood as if you were about to explode.

“Y-Y/N…?” you saw his trademark pissed off expression drop to an unfamiliar one as his eyes finally adjust to you in the darkness of the room. It must have resided in an area between fear and sadness.

You fought the unruly emotions that threatened to take control over your body as you clenched your fist.

Fuck him. He doesn’t get to be sad.

“What?? Were you expecting someone else!?” you spat as you roughly kicked one of his nearby feet, “You probably were expecting more company, you whore,”

No response.

You dug your nails deep into the palm of your hands as if it would somehow release the excruciating pressure that you were feeling.

The woman’s meek voice suddenly broke the extreme silence you all shared, “I-I’m gonna g—”

“GO!” you angrily whipped yourself around to her before grabbing the nearest item that you could, “You dumb bitch! You’re lucky I don’t fuck you up too!” You threw the item as you cursed, not even bothering to know what it was.

It barely missed the naked girl and loudly shattered against one of your walls as she scurried towards the door. You went to reach for another object from your grandmothers’ dresser, promising that you wouldn’t miss this time, but you froze as you found yourself in the mirror connected to the dresser.

You hadn’t realized in your rage that you were crying until you saw your tear-soaked face in the dark reflection. You tried so hard to keep yourself together. You prided yourself on being level-headed in stressful situations, but you were far from level-headed. You were conceited to ever even try to take on that persona.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could only lament about how pathetic you looked—how pathetic you were.

“I…I’m such an idiot!” you painfully gripped at your hair as you fell into your knees in front of the man you loved. Heavy sobs tore themselves free of your burning throat. You heaved yourself forward into your lap in a failed attempted to catch them, but it was too late.

“I don’t… know what to say.” Bakugou finally spoke up, his face completely flipped upside down from its usual tenseness.

Of course.

Out of all of the times you wanted this loud-mouthed jerk to shut up, now is when he is at a loss for words.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips.

“I don’t see what’s so fucking funny?” he angrily retorted, as he stumbled to make his way up. You were suddenly met with his member being swung at your eye level as you stayed crouched onto the ground. That’s when you noticed–

He didn’t even have a condom on.

He made you get tested for STDs and pregnancy before he even had sex with you with a condom.

“I don’t know where that thing has been,” He had said then. It wouldn’t be until months later when you had started birth control when he had finally decided to risk sex without latex protection. The memory jolted an unexpected emotion from you as your chest bobbed from an oncoming laugh.

“G-get out.” You laughed again, tears still steadily falling from your face. You probably looked absolutely psychotic right now, but it was like all of the emotions that you had been stifling all these years had resurfaced with a vengeance. You struggled to drag yourself to stand so that you wouldn’t have to look at his still wet dick.

You continued to laugh and cry as Bakugou stared at you, his expression becoming disgruntled from the disturbing sight,

“What the fuck is wrong wi—”

“Get. OUT!!” you angrily interrupted him as you roared into his face. He blinked spastically in response as the shock of the altercation finally began to sink into his decelerated mind.

‘F-fuck,’

His heart sank, ‘What did I just do?’ He racked his brain as he tried to remember all of the events that had taken place to lead him to this moment, but the world seemed to be spinning ferociously, shaking up and mixing the timeline of the night.

He was plucked from his thoughts as he caught a glimpse of your face in the darkness of the room.

Why were you looking at him like you hated his existence—like if you could disintegrate his body with your eyes, you would. For the first time in years, Bakugou felt hot tears tingle against the back of his eyes, “Y/N, I…” his voice became stuck in his chest as his heart gave sudden jolt, “I’m so s–”

His chest became tight as you whipped away from him and silently threw a pointed finger towards the door.

He stumbled back a few feet as if you had just thrown a physical attack his way.

After a few moments of watching you hold the same position, he noticed you had started to cry again as your rocking shoulders lurched forward.

His face fell even further into the expression of despair before he froze. He could fix this if you would just let him, dammit!

He growled in annoyance at your ignoring him before he finally thawed his body, “FINE!” he yelled at you before smacking your pointed hand out to the way so that he could stagger out of the room. He loudly slammed the door shut, leaving you alone with your deafening thoughts.

You immediately dropped back to the ground before you curled yourself up into a ball and released painful sobs.

You had absolutely no fear that he would catch you in this state. His pride would never allow him to come back after storming out like that.

However on the other side of the door, Bakugou had already turned back around. Instant guilt had created a cacophony of loud feelings in his mind. How could he have hurt you like that?

The thought caused his heart to thrum and his hands to flinch away from the door handle; however, he strengthened his resolve and firmly grasped the handle once more until suddenly–

“BAKU-BROOOOO!” Kirishima’s booming voice could be heard moments before the front door was slammed open and bounced against your living room wall, “Ya made it back alive, man! We were all worried about you after you disappeared…” he slurred as he fumbled over to his best friend like a toddler taking his first steps.

Bakugou couldn’t find it in himself to reply to the redhead as the latter threw himself at him with a hearty laugh. The laugh, however, came to an abrupt end as Kirishima stared blankly at Bakugous face, “Hey… wha’s wrong, best buddy? Holy hell, w-why are you crying?!” he loudly whispered. A loud rumble could be heard before Kirishima violently gagged, releasing the contents of his stomach.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction

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seimeinotaka · 4 years ago

Text

A waltz for two solo dancers (VilXFeMC)

For TwstOC Week Day 2. Relationships.

There is a lingering tension between Vil and Ann, like a waltz. A waltz for two solo dancers, each gliding at their own tune, so close yet so far. Wanting to get close, but not enough to touch each other. Yearning gazes being the only betrayal of those hidden thoughts.

Thanks to polyphenols@AO3 for beta-reading this!

Vil stood in front of Ann, fixing her tie and her hair, unaware or uncaring of the soft smile on her face. Her heart always beat this fast when she was with him, always aware of the way he made her feel.

She loved Vil deeply, ever since that day.

“That’s why I want to give my all to be able to vote for myself proudly.”

Her heart was taken by those words, the deep conviction in his heart.

But she knew things couldn't go the way she wished, because she was a person who did not deserve anything.

It was why she was content with these faint touches, these ephemeral interactions that would go nowhere. At times, it almost felt like Vil was affectionate, an elusive softness that felt like a mirage. But, even if her heart trembled, she pushed her delusions to the back of her mind while simultaneously surrendering herself to the moment until her mind reminded her of her own reality, which marred the moment with a deep shame and grief.

"I cannot enjoy this, no matter how much I desire this. No, it was wishing for anything in the first place that caused me to lose everything."

A risky double thought.

"I don’t like the Potato, Rook," Vil said dryly.

The vice leader arched his eyebrows, with a matching knowing, taunting smile.

"Sure you don't, Roi du Poison. That's why you're mesmerized by the trickster."

"How could I be?" Vil scoffed with disdain, glaring at Rook, a sign to wipe that smirk off his face. "She doesn't know her place and dares to talk back to me. She's untidy, she doesn't take care of her skin, have you seen how she's always yawning in art class?"

Rook nodded to everything he said. "Oui, she is exactly as you say. When you demand her to move, she asks you 'Why?', instead of 'Is this far enough?'. Instead of being mesmerized by your beauty, she waves you hello. You expect her to fear and respect you, admiring you from afar, but she invades your private space to tell you she doesn't like how you treat others. Didn't she tell you, 'I'm on a raid, don't interrupt me or I'll kill you' without batting an eye, when you were filming in the courtyard she was sitting in?"

"You are proving my point, Rook."

"Unyielding against your charms and uncaring at your status as the Queen. To call this a crush would be a mistake. No, your feelings run deeper than this, ahhhh~ the scorching and relentless feeling of love!"

If looks could kill, the hunter would have been buried thirteen times already, for saying something so ridiculous. Vil Schoenheit in love with her, of all people?

"The Trickster also seems interested in you."

The words aimed directly at his heart, why did he choose Rook as vice leader when he was not careful of his place? And why was everyone telling him things he didn't want to admit?

"Of course, isn't that obvious? I am Vil Schoenheit," he uttered, attempting to assert his dominance, to defend his wounded pride.

"You know that's not what I mean."

He turned his eyes away, she had seen through him, the ugliness he wanted to hide. She saw it and yet...

"Stop spouting nonsense, Rook. I'm in a foul mood. I will be in my room."

He entered his room and closed his doors, fist slamming on them. His heart ached, frowning deeply as how easily he could recall her face and her cheeky smile.

And how he desperately wanted her to look at him.

When she was nice to everyone...

How could he tell if she is looking at him...?

He slammed his fist against the door, once more hiding his blushing face on his sleeve, as he was only accompanied by the sound of his racing heart.

Her feelings were like an open box, the best way to hide something was to be upfront about everything. It was how she had managed to fool herself. Never had she tried anything to reach him, to try to get him to love her.

It was fine if her love was one-sided, as hurtful as it was.

She was okay with being just his ‘professional headache’, the girl who sometimes got scolded by him, the possible friend that sometimes hangs out with him. She enjoyed their talks, their accidental meetings, their bickering.

As long as that line was never crossed, she was fine.

There was a silly contradiction to that trail of thought. She was fully aware of her love, and always acted on it, whenever she greeted him or talked to him. Her reassurance came from the bottom of her heart. However, she had no intention of it being known, she wouldn’t go and confess to him or anyone. She was no idiot and she knew how to avoid the usual talks of romance and love between her friends. It helped that Ace and Deuce hardly talked about the matter, focusing on the day-to-day happenings, and less on whatever she was feeling.

So long she could see him, from an invisible wall she had erected to protect him, she would be fine with whatever they never were.

He was surprised to acknowledge she had similar traits to him, even if they looked like immediate opposites at first glance. She didn’t look much like it, but she favored hard work, that was his first surprise. All of her potato friends had been duped by Azul’s scheme, but she was the one who bailed them out. She had also a hidden passion as well, given her devotion to that game of hers she played, and the art she seemed fond of making. While she was young and inexperienced, given how she often lost track of time, it was precisely this trait that showed her ambition and determination. The fortitude to throw herself into a task she had to accomplish no matter what. It honestly annoyed him, she somehow thought it adequate to go to bed at unholy hours as long as she did what she wanted, her skin care be damned, but it somehow made her shine when he scolded her the next morning.

“Sorry, Vil-senpai, I was at a good part of my game and I couldn’t stop.”

With his cosmetics, he could somehow make up for a tired look on her skin, but at times, it was as if she was glowing instead. He wouldn’t have imagined she had pulled an all-nighter, even if she was supposed to be the potato and him, the beauty expert.

She did possess something he lacked. It was that kindness of hers, one not restricted to her friends. His world didn’t forgive the easily duped, the ones who did something for others, expecting nothing in return. The school they studied at held this principle deep in its roots, where being kind and soft would only leave you as prey to be used. He was far from the likes of Azul and Leona, but he wasn’t the kind to help others for no reason. To give out his secrets for free, it was a way to coddle laziness and neglect. In the industry, it was a sure way to get you killed. But it seemed this concept didn’t apply to her, as her webcomic was a way to help her study (one of the potatoes had come to read it often) and her Magicam was full of advice, the accumulated experience of a high-ranked player in her home world. Everything for free, nothing expected in return.

He himself had been on the receiving end, with her annoying encouragement and unwanted advice. With his own life being saved from overblotting, like she had saved the others. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil. Some of them people who had attacked her or her friends. Yet she still helped them, she helped him, not asking for anything, not even a thank you. They had argued, he had been cold to her, but she still extended her hand to save him.

There was something Vil Schoenheit possessed that no one else had, a brilliance that lay deeper than his obvious beauty.

Ann knew he was beautiful, but it was the elegance he carried himself with, the strictness he had for himself and the diligence to reach his goals that made him who he was.

Vil never excused himself, taking responsibility for his faults, like his own admission of his failings for his Overblot and making amends for it. He never asked for help, he worked on his own. She had learned his father was a famous actor, and Vil, while loving him dearly, had never resorted to latching on his father’s fame as an easy way into the business industry.

Instead, he had worked hard, went to auditions and prepared himself. The few times she helped him carry props for his Film Appreciation Club, she had seen the worn out scripts, the hundreds of notes and stickers. He took care of everything with meticulous care, she might have found him rehearsing nonstop even on his busy schedule.

Vil worked out and prided himself on being perfect always, even though he was close to wearing himself thin, and it wasn’t out of simple vanity. He was complex, far from perfect, with his secret failings that didn’t make him less beautiful in her eyes. Someone who wanted to better himself, to reach perfection even if such a state was impossible from the start, how could she not love him for giving his all to a goal?

Even if he denied it, he was kind, secretly helping others being their best person they could be. As harsh and strict as he seemed, he looked out for everyone, not only those close to him or in his dorm. He wouldn’t even mind being painted as something he loathed, as long as that person got the drive to improve themselves. It was why for her, he was a true selfless hero, with shortcomings that he struggled with. And it was why she wanted him to achieve his dream, and had tried to help him in the only way she could, through words, written or spoken, and through art so that others might see him in a different light, the things Vil never mentioned about himself that were easily missed by others just looking at him at glance.

He wanted her to look at him. To praise him. To tell him he was the most beautiful.

"I don't care about your opinion. "

It was a bold lie, one to hide his own deepest feelings, the actual fear of her opinion of him. He was aware that he was in the eye of everyone, but...

He wanted to be in her eyes but feared hearing her thoughts. Because she saw right through his efforts. Through everything he did. Would she praise him?

He felt bare, exposed. And, he was unsure if he could handle her rejection. That was why he shut out her opinion fast, fearing the words he didn't want to hear.

Why wasn't she telling him he was beautiful, like everyone else? Why did she approach him easily? She didn't know her place, he kept repeating that to himself, but there was a lingering fear it was because he was nothing to her, hence why she acted so nonchalantly.

He wanted to be her very first thought in the morning and the last one at night, just as she invaded his dreams and haunted him everywhere with her presence or absence. But he couldn't easily go and tell her, "I saw you in my dreams again. We were together, you by my side, the place I yearn for you to be."

He sighed. There was no use getting upset over this. But these words didn't reach his heart, its pace increasing as he thought of her again.

(He knew that it was because she didn't say those words, that she looked deeper, focusing on his sweat, blood and tears, that he looked for her everywhere now.)

"You've worked so hard to get where you're standing on and that's really amazing."

He was in deep.

"I think your beauty doesn't only lie in how you look, you are beautiful, but it's your determination and hard work that makes you shine."

He stopped breathing when she said that, heart aching so much because she wasn't aware that her words pierced his heart, permanently latching on it like the sword in his crown. Whenever he repeated them in his mind, like a broken record, he clenched his chest, losing all strength, a sweet tasting poison that bewitched his soul. It hurts him but, he couldn't stop himself from yearning it.

"Please, look at me."

"...Please love me..."

He whispered quietly in the darkness of his empty room.

There was an irony of the Pomefiore Queen falling victim to her sweet tender poison.

(Was it really poison? Her words were sweet and gentle, beautiful and without any ill intentions. But they killed him slowly, so they might as well be the most dangerous venom in the world. And he wouldn't stop wishing for it, taking them all until there was nothing left.)

"Vil-senpai, good morning!"

She would smile brightly at him and he would avoid her eyes, feigning indifference because he couldn't hold her gaze back. He preferred to nitpick, to tell her that her lips were dry, that she should pay attention to her appearance, harshly scolding her as his hands carefully arranged her tie.

"I won't be always fixing you. You should be always presentable, what am I going to do with you?"

He fussed over her, giving her even some lipstick he had, after applying it to her lips that surely her potato friends would comment on later.

What was he going to do? Wasn't it obvious? He'd look for her next and fuss again over her appearance, because that was as close as he could allow himself to be, safely hidden by the pretense of her untidy appearance.

"Tell me, Trickster Ann-kun," Rook's piercing voice shot through the silence like the arrow from his bow. "Do you have feelings for the beautiful Vil?"

He had suddenly approached her, as she had taken a night stroll in the surroundings of Ramshackle Dorm to clear her head, even though she knew the chaos would remain.

She closed her eyes, she knew that looking away or up front would show the answer, a fawn in front of the perceptive hunter. Vil had already confronted her, her eyes telling a different story than what she wanted to say. Rook would surely suspect, no, she had a feeling he was asking to confirm his suspicions.

"What do you mean?"

"Your eyes shine the most when you are next to him, even if you then look away moments after. You approach him often, during the free times he has or even when your paths cross, in between classes and your personal activities. There's a tension, a soft lingering warmth when you talk to him. I look at Vil the most, so naturally I would notice first anything that happens around him."

She looked up at the sky, her lips drawn in a thin line. There were no stars to reflect on her eyes.

"Would it bother you?"

"Non, naturally there are many who have feelings for him. In fact, I would be most bothered if people didn't realize his beauty."

"You did mention it before, you wanted us to see his beauty back during our VDC training."

"Oui, Vil has a beauty no one else possesses. It would be foolish to ignore it when close to it. But we are not talking about me, we are talking about you, Trickster Ann-kun."

"..."

"Befitting of your name, you try to fool your opponents and the people who surround you. But you should already know I am a hunter and it's my pride to say I do not let my prey get away.”

"I had a feeling you would say that, though whatever. Whatever I feel, it doesn't really matter."

She could feel his sharp eyes on her, carefully examining her every movement, conscious or unconscious. For a moment, she thought he was concerned, but she wouldn't engage in eye contact for her sake. She knew better than engaging in a fight she would lose.

"If I like him or not, it doesn't matter. Someone like him shouldn't be with someone like me."

"Do you think of yourself as inferior to him, Trickster Ann-kun? Vil is the kind of person who can appreciate beauty, no matter how unconventional."

"I don't really know where I fall in that category, and I don't think too much about it anyway," she said with a casual shrug, but it didn't shake off Rook's inquisitive gaze.

"You should be aware that you're already someone important to him. What happened in the VDC put you in another place in his eyes."

What would it be? Vil’s overblot and her desperate tries to save him? Their talk alone after they lost the VDC? She was sure Vil couldn’t know her punching Rook was largely due to her own anger at him for doing this to Vil.

But no matter the reason, it changed nothing.

"...It's because of that...Things are fine the way they are now. I'm fine with that. "

"Perhaps you are, but what about Vil?"

She unconsciously turned to him, his green eyes revealing a strong protectiveness and concern. She winced and looked away, though perhaps she had already shown too much.

"...He is better this way. I...I don't deserve him, that's all."

"Is this why you don't grasp for him? The yearning in your eyes, you cannot hide it from me, but you don't wish to claim him."

Ann couldn’t reply, and the look in the hunter’s eyes told him he knew more, her silence a confirmation for him. He pressed for no more answers, not that she would give them. Her love was doomed from the start and she was fine with that.

“But what about Vil?”

That was the only problem, though she prayed it never happened.

The truth is, I want him to love me. I want him to hold me.

But I can’t have him.

I have to look at him from afar, no matter how much my heart aches for him.

This was a waltz for two solo dancers, each gliding at their own tune, so close yet so far. Wanting to get close, but not enough to touch each other. Yearning gazes being the only betrayal of those hidden thoughts.

His lips touched hers and a bolt of electricity passed through his body, heart aching so much, as his tight chest reminded him to breathe. Her lips were so soft and tender, and when he pulled back in shock at what he had done, her warmth lingering on his lips almost made him wish to continue. Locking mouths, their skin needing to be one, to be this close always, it was a feeling he had been blessed to have just experienced and cursed, because it would never be enough.

Especially when her eyes reflected a pain he would have never expected to see.

The one time he had let himself be overcome with emotion, his relentless feelings deciding something so bold, it had to be the time where he quietly poured them all in one action only to feel a quiet unmoving slap in the form of her gaze.

She didn't have to say anything, too shocked to move but the rejection in her eyes was more than clear, and her lingering lips on his skin added insult to the injury.

It was the pain he felt as he left the room that let him know how hard he had fallen for her, how much he yearned for her love and adoration, and it was crushing him.

"Potato."

"Huh..."

The next thing she realized was his perfume so close filling her nostrils, his soft lips on hers.

And she felt her world crumbling, the small bubble she had crafted for her delusions rupturing and bringing her to the terrible reality she had to confront.

Something took over her, a violent mix of terror and guilt, of her realizing the thing she had done and how far her silly nonsense had reached.

She wanted his love, she yearned for it deeply, but she couldn’t accept it.

Vil was in love with someone else, right? Not her, someone like Rook or someone else who deserved him.

But his lips were on hers, a delicate blessing she wasn’t worthy of receiving. Hence she could only stand in horror, unable to move or react, because what was she supposed to do?

He pulled back abruptly, his cheeks light pink and brilliant violet eyes avoiding hers. He shook his head before vanishing through the door.

She pressed her fingers on her lips, they were warm, so tempting to keep bringing back the ghost of his skin over hers, the thing she had wished deep down for so long.

But the hurt in his eyes kept haunting her, and she felt like dying.

Thank you for reading!

#twisted wonderland #twstocweek #vil schoenheit #twstoc #vil x mc #twst #rook hunt

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patrocles · 4 years ago

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now that I read about your Night King parallels to Jon, his thoughts around Val now read different to me. The Nightking fell in love with a cold, beautiful woman all in white. Jon so often describes Val to dress all in Val, having blue eyes, and he develops he crush on her, so often thinking about the missed opportunity to marry her and reign as Lord.

so i've been going back and forth thinking about this and i dont really know if i have a definitive answer about this theory but i have a thought or two.

i think there's an absolute legitimate parallel between jon/val and NK/NQ. it definitely feels on purpose in the more literal sense with your examples. if it ever comes up that we're meant to at least understand why NK did what he did, (or at least, an element of how it happened) we've seen that sort of temptation with jon and val, so it makes sense.

but i think there's another way to read the NK story. i do sometimes wonder if the queen was real at all. absolutely NK dabbled in the ~dark magic~ and, but it feels like the woman in the story was probably an addition to explain the corruption of NK. women being the scapegoat for corrupting men's virtue and honor is a tale gone back to the time of samon and delilah.

and given the moral code of nights watch, and its specific emphasis on celibacy, blaming a woman on NK's dabblement in atrocities and making sacrifices to the others kinda tracks lmao.

val in jon's story absolutely represents an element of freedom and temptation that jon has to resist. she's presented as the perfect ideal for jon and everything he could want... but at the end of the day, she's just a woman. i dont know if its entirely fair to cast val as the corruption for jon. and honestly do we know if they're in love besides just being Hot Friends at the end of the world?

i have seen someone say that she's to jon as daario is to dany tho which is interesting. it will also be interesting to see val's reaction to jon after his resurrection, if she'll be afraid of him and see him as something unholy and unnatural (hell she's voted for shireen to burn bc of her greyscale so whos rly to say)

#asoiaf #asoiaf ask

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dwestfieldblog · 4 years ago

Text

A VERY REMOTE ENGLISH TEACHER

Where meditations, rants, reverie and absent seizures cross over... closer to one gun with one bullet, the rose of ruby and the cross of gold...uff, and MENTACIDE IN THE TIME OF MASQUES. Although I have never suffered from the guilty masochistic torture of ‘pleasure anxiety’, Bacchus hath indeed drowned more men than Neptune. So I stopped drinking for 18 days to fool myself I was doing something positive and threw away enough things to be minimalist again. Arf. Beauty and/or function uber alles.

Been treading water for three years and trying not to drown...big round of one hand clapping for the former poet. Meanwhile, in this temporary world and perception I have created of it, I am looking at a very possible exile one way or the other...my ‘plan’...a long phased withdrawal or hasty retreat. My wish is to stay, but once I leave, it might well be very hard to return. Read as many metaphors as you want into that but in spite of my dislike of the conservatively minded Aristotle’s ‘either/or’ nonsense, there do indeed appear to be only two this time. And appear is the operative word. Appearances can be deceptive and emotions (unless raised and focused) cloud over what should be clear. Pain has a tendency to breed worry and fear too but let’s draw a veil over that for now eh? Suppress, suppress, release comes later...breathe deep and try not to cough, onward we go where the game gets rough...Just like Tom Thumbs Blues 65.

Remember Roman Protasevich...As Lukasenko himself said...‘Belarus stood at the edge of an abyss and I helped it take a step forward’. Look good on your tombstone that will Al. Fecking outrageous the Indian PM only admitted in May that covid was transmitted in the air. He needs removing... as do two thirds of all the other world leaders East and West. Hello Bollsanaro. People are very easy to manipulate when they’re are scared or angry...and right now the world majority are both. But, ‘there is a crack in everything... that’s how the light gets in’... and ‘things could change’, doesn’t have to be for the worse. It can take decades to realise this as actual truth, but still nice to read and try internalise the following last week.’The odds actually favour the optimists, since dissipate structures are more likely to evolve into more information rich (intelligent?) forms than into primitive or chaotic forms.’ All my friends bar my best one are optimists..Hello you:-)

Ever onward deeper downward with Orban in Hungary and his mission of ‘Christian values’, which involves a familiar routine of arresting, beating and disappearing dissenters in the name of Christ and taking over the universities to replace professors with those who understand on which side their bread is buttered. Decent judges long gone. Nice fascist communism...and ex soldiers in France and the Czech republic warning of civil war...

And now spiraling we go into the black hole vortex of Disaster capitalism, ‘Let the bodies pile high’. There’s gold in them thar ills....ISLAND PARANOIA and PERFIDIOUS ALBION! A country which demands a contract, agrees, signs to it and then refuses to honour it. We look worse than ridiculous, we look deceitful. Gentlemen, your places please. Boris Johnson is a clumsy, inept, disgraceful charlatan, con merchant and LIAR. A blustering master bullshit artist, the only decent thing about his recent secret wedding is that now he legally has one less bastard child.

Recently I read that British people are displaying signs of Stockholm syndrome...in that they dislike those who hold power over them and make the rules but during the time of pandemic, they are the ones who will release the saviour vaccine and get everything moving again. So rather than rocking the boat and daring to express dissent at the DIABOLICAL handling of the last 18 months, they have mostly kept quiet and voted for the same endlessly failing, corrupt and venal politicians who made a bad situation far worse. (That said, it bears repeating that there are a few million in the UK who didn’t quite understand that that the spread of a highly contagious airborne virus can be slowed by the wearing of masks/applying basic hygiene and even took offence at being told what should have made sense to any adult homo SAPIENS half capable of cogitating for themselves. Morons and scum. Same where you are?

By the way BBC...the colossal dearth of stories about the endless government failures in relation to Covid, death, corruption and the NHS...ever since they blackmailed you with threats of revoking the TV licence fee and got you to change Directors has been noted. Long may Have I Got News For You continue the satire and balance needed in a DEMOCRACY. Obey your public servants? Why, when they do not serve few but themselves? Power OF the people? Which ones...the mob? The same bleating pricks who follow populists?

Four eyed beanpole fop Rees Mogg, with his wonderful line that the benefits of Brexit will be seen ‘over the next fifty years’...well yes, that is why most people vote in democratic elections eh?...So they will be dead or ancient before the change they hoped for comes...and the politicians who lead them now, will have all long moved on to revolving door chairman of the board offshore limited liability company paradise. Bread today jam tomorrow fairytales. What I tell you three times is true.

O, but the English do so love to be told what to do by dumb posh boys who treat them like dirt. Some are forelock tugging and some are self flagellating middle class upper class wannabes who will never get there but still feel proud they are not street level proles. Doby the house elf alien hamster Michael Gove found guilty of breaking the law. Nothing. Internal inquiries run by those connected to the money changing hands find nothing illegal. Corruption for all to see...and ignore. ‘Well, what can we do?’ The uselessly inept serial failure Dido Harding to be in charge of the National Health Service? (she of the collapsed Woolworths, Talk Talk and the 22 BILLION pound loss of the Covid Track and Trace program where non working consultants/insultants, were paid 1000 pounds a day). American style privatisation is coming where only the wealthy or criminal can afford to be repaired and well. Sick.

Meanwhile, All our imported nurses out, and all the lobster red fat Spanish costa de la sol criminals back in. Great exchange, fair trade and forward thinking. The Kremlin are manipulating/supporting Scottish independence... I read years ago about their base in Edinburgh for Russia Today (the foul insert in The Daily Telegraph) and they were already encouraging it. Rees Smug has accelerated and supported their freedom with his snobbish utterances on countries in the UK other than England and their ‘foreign languages’. With every patronising, arrogant pronouncement, the Eton trifles fuel the fire in Scotland which has a long bitter history of being tortured, murdered and subjugated by their southern masters. Perhaps the chumocracy in Downing Street believe the Celts to be as easily cowed as the middle and working classes down south. Here’s hoping not. ‘Rebellious Scots to crush’? Not this time pal.

As for the future of Britain? A dystopian open prison where the lower social classes toil only at the pleasure of their masters. The higher caste getting richer and all others cast into a living Hell of debt, crime, and sickness. Serve until you die and be thankful we allow you to exist. Increasing in utter irrelevance to the world, other than as an example of how wrong a former democracy can go. This future started decades ago...its baobab roots truly deep now. Better education and critical thinking for the masses in the UK (or anywhere else) is highly unlikely now. Optimism huh? As long as I am not in England, I will still be able to tap into it, but once enclosed long term in the group mind there...trapped in a grey quagmire. Keep smiling...

Several weeks ago, I watched a video on YT of apparently English protestors running after the police in London, some attacking and throwing things, one pulling off the pandemic mask of an officer and all shouting abuse at the outnumbered cops who had to keep pulling back. As always, to get my caffeine rush of fury going, I read the comments and was surprised to see two or three from Chinese names. Almost all comments were against the government (fair enough) and dumb against the lock down, masks, vaccinations etc. Checking again, I saw the video had been posted by CGTN...a media company owned and run by the communist party in Beijing...and not one author of diatribes had mentioned this, nor speculated with a critical thought as to why such an organisation might enjoy turning people against their own democratically elected government (however mind rippingly foul and corrupt they are).

I copy pasted the Wikipedia paragraph about the company onto the page and hoped someone else would make the connection. I wouldn’t mind so much IF there were a credible and decent alternative other than the diseased populist poison for which the demonstrating goons chant. China really cares about the standard of democracy in Britain eh? Persuade your enemies to weaken themselves. Destroying countries by encouraging their ‘patriots’.

(That was written on the anniversary of Tienanmen Square...a few days later Xi Jinping gave a speech saying ‘...a lovable and respectable’ China must be presented to the world and must ‘expand its circle of friends’. Tell that to your teenage ‘dissidents’, Muslims, Falun Gong and Tibetans being tortured and brainwashed in prisons or being used for organ harvesting. Tell it to Hong Kong and Taiwan.)

Unholy America...against abortion and the pill, sex education’s not Gods will and in the Name of Christ they kill...if truth be known, we’ve failed the test...but Jesus was a Socialist and Republican conservatives hate them. The founding fathers of America were Very clear about separation of church and state with damn good Reason. Another part time Christian, Mike Pompeo wants to be president. Q Onan deepstorm morons/Kremlin stool pigeons aka POLEZNYYE IDIOTY continue to push for Trump and his Big Lie...He with the brain where ‘In the left, nothing is right and in the right, nothing’s left.’ Arf.

Over the last two decades, the dumb have been finding their voice and are now louder and prouder of their dumbass ignorance. 74 million in the US alone, their egos unable to retreat in the face of endless evidence to the contrary, they all double down. Like children sticking their fingers in their grimy ears sing songing ‘la la la can’t hear you’. 74 million versions of Eric Cartman, loud, proud and wrong. And uuff, Megan Markle, Majorie Taylor Greene, walking Picasso collage (bad car driver) Caitlin Jenner and Ivana Trump in politics...not exactly holding a proud lantern for women eh? I’d like to buy them for what they are worth and sell them for what they think they are worth. Not very PC?

That was the point. Could easily been written about all of the men written about here too. Next examples follow...

Tucker Carlson and Alex Jones compete for who can be as mentally ill as trump. The Miami school where the husband and wife directors told teachers not to return if they had HAD their vaccine shots because their proximity to students was interfering with menstrual cycles and uuuufff...The sickness of utter mind buggering stupidity. I had my first shot, now waiting to turn reptilian when the 5G masts triangulate my position. Fnord. Covid appears to be killing more overweight meat eating males than females...perhaps testosterone is not useful for the coming Race of non binary mutant hermaphrodites...and look out for the end of the Y chromosome, coming to a temporary universe near you...in 4.6 million years. Yes, really.

Glad Netanyahu is out at last, smug corruption is never a good look unless one is a rich criminal. Ha. The Promised land of Israel...If I was in court for serial murder, breaking, entering and stealing and then defended my actions by saying that God had told me to do it, would the Judge; A. Call for a psychiatric report, B. Disregard the statement as unprovable and pass the appropriate sentence, C, say Ok mate, you’re free to go, good luck to you. ? Moses had a good schtick.

The law is only to punish the poor, do you feel as if you suffer from empathy? Once you know, you no longer need to believe. What does ‘reality’ seem to be? The more certain you are, the stupider you get and belief is the death of intelligence. The machine is running the engineers. What is the definition of rationality...the quality of being based on or in accordance with reason or logic.

Nothing is, but thinking makes it so. Epicurus.

EVERYTHING NOT COMPULSORY IS FORBIDDEN.

The glamour illusion of the mass of pointless hot influencers needs a constant renewing of the Banishing Ritual as much as all the pigslop bile coming from Fox News and Sky. Bloody long haired commie liberal faggot they cry against any not identical to them. Some days I have only flamethrowers of hatred for these idiots. Other days...not exactly self doubt, just questions...most of us seem to believe our opinions are more valid when there are emotions connected to them. Including me. Again, this seems like a very weak version of ‘truth’, unless disciplined, channeled and focused to a certain end.

Life appears to exist in order to become via chaos.

Most of us are working only not to be homeless, some because of the joy in our chosen work regardless of finances. Until ‘reality’ kicks in the door...the bondage gets tighter when you struggle. How much hardship is the individual willing to endure these days by choice? Surrounded by a universe of distraction and destruction, Maya mewling for our attention. Five years of Trump, rampant populism and Brexit doing a Hexagram 23 on democracy, compounded by the pandemic...all on top of ‘normal’ daily life. The ego feeds and the immune system breaks down. Hard to ignore without being on a mountain or in a parallel dimension and emotion free other than compassion. But BY GODDESS IT CAN AND WILL BE DONE. Ladies of Life Nin Khursag, Isis, Kali, Aradia...Love one, Love ALL. At very least have respect for thyself but be not thou proud of thine arrogance nor thy suffering.

Or just Remember where you came from, what you were, seem to be and will become.

Heal, heal, more work to do, more love to give, more love to feel, Heal. Stay in drugs, eat your school and don’t do vegetables. Impose your own reality upon and through yourself, breathe, exhale, repeat, and continue, LOVE UNDER WILL. Experience and absorb but ‘It’s a house of tricks, ignore the world’’.

Stay well, be seeing you:-)

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mi6-cafe · 5 years ago

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DRABBLES FOR WEEK 3 ARE HEEERE!

This week our competitors were asked to write exactly 300 words of pure dialogue inspired by the word: “slip”

HOW DO YOU VOTE?

Read all the drabbles. (they’re below the line)

Choose three that you like the most.

Fill out this VOTING FORM, telling us your favourites. (You can even leave anonymous feedback for the author).

NOTE: If you are a competitor, you CANNOT vote for your own fic. But please, do vote. :)

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Drabbles below the cut:

Title: Slip of the Tongue Author: IrishWitch58 (captain-magicalkitty) Warnings:None Summary: Q let's something slip out during a private briefing. James actually does listen, especially when it's something he's been waiting to hear.

“This is a simple concept. Access the control center, find the central station, and insert this drive. Once it downloads, you enter this sequence on the keyboard, and remove the drive.”

“And what does the download do exactly?”

“It will send their outgoing communications to us first, allowing us to know their plans and modify them in ways the receivers will not suspect. The result will be that we will eventually close the net around the entire organization. The concept is not that difficult if you would just focus. I sometimes think you play up technological ignorance to get attention. I suspect I would be out of patience if I didn't love you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you were playing at being ignorant and we have work to do. Now pay attention. We still have to get through this briefing if the mission is to have any chance of success.”

“I really think the briefing can wait just a bit. I believe you're trying to divert me. I know what I heard.”

“You didn't hear anything except my frustration with your lack of attention, 007.”

“Then why are you blushing, Q? You do blush very attractively. I recall you turned a lovely rosy shade the first time I kissed you...”

“Just stop right there, Bond.”

“Oh no, I don't think so. I especially remember how pink you turned the first time I put my tongue...”

“I said stop it, this is not the time or the place!”

“I'll stop if you admit it. I know what I heard. There's nothing wrong with my ears. As a matter of fact, you seem to like them as handles when I...”

“Dammit, James. Yes I love you, you arrogant, aggravating, man. Now can we please get to work?”

“With pleasure, darling.”

Title: The Village of Barnsley Author: Venstar Warnings: geekery Summary: roll for initiative.

The Village of Barnsley’s life force is slipping away. Peasants are fleeing and some have disappeared with no explanation.

Excellent. Peasants to do my bidding, ha!

Oaf.

No one seems to know the cause of the decay. What skulks through the twisted shadows of the night? It will take a brave and skillful band of adventures to solve the riddle!

I’m brave and skilled, that’s me.

You are weak and your dice are cursed, Alec you’re going to get us killed.

Do you think my goats are going to be okay?

You can sell them.

Never!

If the village is in trouble and they need food for information, we’re selling your goats, James.

Touch my goats and I’ll roll to shoot you with my longbow.

Children, please let the DM continue. I have a meeting tomorrow morning and I don’t want to show up with dark circles under my eyes.

Tanner has to fix the trouble in the town of the MI5 and MI6 joint task force. Maybe taking my dice will improve things for you.

I doubt it. Okay, so this village is slowly slipping away.

What’s in it for us?

Spoken like a true mercenary.

Hey, You want goats, I want benefits.

OKAY OKAY! Your band of merry men-

And women

Your band of merry men AND women

And for those of us who are undecided.

I swear to all that is unholy….YOUR BAND OF MERRY ARSEHOLES has become aware of the changes in Barnsley through some vague rumors. Do you want to roll to hear the rumors?

Yes.

No.

Shut up, Alec.

That’s Sir Alec the Brave to you!

Yes, we want to hear a rumor. Who gets to roll first? Goat man?

I agree one must gather intelligence.

Let’s roll! I want to hear a rumor!

Title: No, YOU do the mission report Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: slip - noun (FOR BOAT) a place where a boat or ship can be parked, between two piers

“007, why are you driving a boat through the harbour?”

“I’m piloting this yacht because it’s too bloody big to leave drifting as a navigational hazard. The harbour patrol would notice and there’s a dozen dead bodies aboard. I assume you don’t want an international incident...”

“Q,tell him it’d only be his third this year...”

“Alec, shut up and make sure the deck is clear. Q, find out where this wallowing scow normally docks, will you? We'll look suspicious if we just wander about like this too much longer.”

“Too late, James, harbour patrol incoming. Q, got any long-distance lasers?”

“Fuck. Alec, can you divert them somehow? We can’t let them board us.”

“007, head to the northern section of the harbour, to a marina called the Golden Seas.”

“Right. Alec?”

“Just steer us straight and leave the distraction to me.”

“006, why are you stripping that corpse?”

“Q, have you got a drone in the air somewhere? If so, you might want to avert your tender gaze...”

“006, why are you stripping?”

“Take a deep breath, quartermaster, I’m about to engage in a distraction guaranteed to send them away.”

“You’re...tell me you’re not actually...”

“Stop snickering, James, and please explain to our poor innocent quartermaster while I shout angrily at the fools who’ve dared to interrupt our erotic escapades.”

“Well, Q, when a boy likes another boy...”

“007!”

“No, quartermaster, Alec is not going to engage in sexual congress with a fresh corpse. But the harbour patrol won’t interfere with a rich man’s pleasure cruise, either. They know where their bribes come from, especially when they’re reminded in such colorful Russian. Entering the marina now, Q.”

“Oh, er, slip 24 is the correct one, 007.”

“Right. Dispatch a cleaning crew and we’ll be happy to report our mission complete.”

Title: Quotable Quotations Author: Anyawen Warnings: Summary: Film buffs Bond and Q trade movie quotes to stave off boredom. Bond slips a serious question into the game.

“I’m bored, Q.”

“You’re impossible, Bond.”

“'I do not think that word means what you think it means.'”

“I know exactly what it means, and if I had any doubt, your picture in the dictionary would surely give it away.”

“'Why so serious?'”

“MI6 frowns on using comms for idle chatter.”

“My flight’s been delayed twice, Q. If I have to watch another woman order some salted, drizzled, whipped, pumpkin-spiced abomination, I will go mad.”

“In the interests of preserving what little remains of your sanity, 'I’ll have what she’s having.'”

“'As you wish.'”

“You already quoted from The Princess Bride. You lose.”

“That was before you agreed to play. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine. 'I’m your Huckleberry.'”

“My what?”

“Oh, you don’t know that one? You lose. Again.”

“What’s it from?”

“Tombstone. 1993.”

“Never been a big fan of westerns.”

“'Nobody’s perfect.'”

“Hmmm. 'I can't see anything I don't like about you.'”

“Ha! 'As if.'”

“'You make me want to be a better man.'”

“'Everything is possible, even the impossible.'”

“'Today is a good day to try.'”

“'The present is well out of hand.'”

“'I love you beyond poetry.'”

“... 'I know.'”

"'I want you. I want all of you, forever. You and me, every day.'"

"Uh. 'You talking to me?'"

"'Shut up. Yes or no.'"

"... 'Surely you can't be serious.'"

"'Carpe Diem.'"

“'Even walls have ears,' Bond.”

“'Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.'”

“James …”

“'Go ahead, make my day.'”

“You’re really doing this over comms?"

"'Our lives are defined by opportunities—'"

"All right, then. 'You had me at 'hello'.'"

“That’s a yes?”

"Yes. 'Come what may.'"

"'I'm king of the world.'"

"Well, your majesty, tickets to Paris and a seat on the Eurostar should have you home in 10 hours. Boarding now. Gate B50. ‘Shake a leg.’”

Title: Freudian Slip Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: swearing Summary: Every now and then, the mask slips and he ends up saying exactly what’s on his mind (or, 5 times Bond has a slip of the tongue and 1 time it was Q)

“Don’t you get tired of following orders?”

“Do you?”

“Sometimes. We aren’t their dogs. Stop acting like you are.”

“Alec…”

“We could leave, you know? Make a run for it. They’d never find us.”

“I have to go. I’ve got a meeting with my leash. Lead. With my lead.”

“Don’t stick around for too long, James. Loyalty doesn’t always go both ways.”

“Goodbye, Alec.”

“-don’t care what happened with Trevelyan, I will not defend you in front of the select committee a second time. Is that understood?”

“Hm.”

“007, I asked you a question. Is. That. Understood?”

“Yes, mum.”

“...”

“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Take some time. Get yourself together before you come back, Bond. Dismissed.”

“...Fuck.”

“So? How are you settling back in?”

“Fine.”

“Getting to know the new Quartermaster? He’s quite the-”

“Moneypenny, if M’s busy, you can just shoot me off. Shoo. Fuck. I didn’t mean that.”

“James? I thought we were past that? Is everything ok?”

“I’ll come back later.”

“...James?”

“The Van Gogh print I recognize, but what’s this one?”

“Hmm? Oh, that’s one of mine.”

“You paint?”

“Sometimes. When I’m not rebuilding guns for careless agents. They’re just daubs, really.”

“Not at all. I like your arse- art! ...I like your paintings, I mean.”

“...Thanks. I think.”

“You should leave.”

“Madeleine, what-?”

“You don’t want to be here, James. I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me back. This isn’t working.”

“So… what? It’s not me, it’s Q- you. You. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Go home, James.”

“Q.”

“Bond? You’re back?”

“I am.”

“They didn’t believe me, you know. When I told them you’d come back to me. Us. Shit. Back to MI6, I mean.”

“Actually, you were right the first time.”

“What?”

“Forget MI6, Q. I came back to you.”

“You- what?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Title: Note Passing Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: elementary school tactics are the very best "So, now we are passing notes as if we are kids still in school?" "I wouldn't have had to, if you replied to my texts" "Maybe there was a specific reason why I wasn't doing that - did you think of it while you folded this slip of paper and batted your lashes at Moneypenny to persuade her to pass it along?" "You really sound unnecessarily peeved by the note passing" "Let's say I just expect a little more maturity from a grown man" "I didn't think you would have appreciated being stalked around MI6 any better" "To be fair... that's true.Oh, stop it! I can hear your smugness" "You can't hear smugness" "When it comes to you? I can" "You're just being dramatic" "You're one to talk. Don't get me started: I'm very busy and I don't have the time to list all the ways and occasions in which you have proved how much of a drama queen you are. I actually don't even have the time for this call" "You could have just texted me your answer - or you know, you could have passed me a note: some of us still appreciate the beauty of the written word, the effort of picking out the best stationery-" "-you wrote yours on the back of a recei-" "-the intimacy of putting your handwriting on display. I could go on and on about the meaningfulness and superiority of handwritten notes" "You're so full of bullshit" "And you're stalling: for someone claiming to be oh so busy, you sure are enjoying keeping me on the phone" "Maybe I'm just making you gag for it" "If only you'd let me show how next to nonexistent my gag reflex is..." "Stop - stop right there.I'll come to dinner, happy?" "Immensely so, my dear Quartermaster"

Title: All Wrapped Up Author: Iambid (Flantastic) Warnings: Mature Summary: Q gives James a present

“Hello darling.”

“There you are. R told me you’d taken the afternoon off. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yes. I got a notification that a parcel was due to be delivered… I thought I’d better be here to receive it.”

“Have you been buying gadgets online again?”

“Not quite. Sit down.”

“Darling?”

“Shhh. Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m wearing a dressing gown in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Why are you wearing a…”

“Or perhaps you should be asking what I’m wearing under it?”

“Why, what… oh. Oh.”

“Do you like it? I found this company online that sells lingerie for men and when I saw that they had a full set in black satin with a matching waist slip and… well, you’re always saying how much you like satin and…”

“Q? Shut up.”

“Hehe… what are you-ARGH! Jesus fucking Christ, warn a guy next time!”

“You look delicious. I want you laid out like a platter…”

“Yes, but I’m sure I could have laid down on the sofa on my own.”

“Maybe. Now let’s see… I like the bra-let. Very sexy, but what I’d really like to see is what these stockings are attached to under your minxy little petticoat… oh. Well isn’t that sweet? Do you know, ladies don’t often go for suspender belts these days? It’s all hold ups. I can’t stand them. Oh, but this is lovely. Just look: you’ve got me a little gift too. All wrapped in satin, done up with a bow.”

“It’s not that little, you cheeky sod.”

“Mmmm, no. Especially not if I do this…”

“You’re a man of many talents.”

“Were they expensive?”

“Were what expensive?”

“The knickers. I have I feeling I’ll be tearing them off you before very long…”

“They were quite reasonable... Oh James…”

Title: Slip up Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: In which Q fails at technology

“You should tell him.” “Oh my god, you are the worst, most meddlesome best friend ever.” “He’s been back six months—” “I’m very aware.” “—and he’s different.” “He’s n—” “He’s different. Less…" “Of a prat?” “The prat was charming. Worked on you.” “Shut it.” “Of course, love... You know, I think these little happy hours of ours might work better on Zoom. The telephone just doesn’t capture my commiserating, compassionate—” “Ha!” “—expression.” “I’m off duty. You don’t need to see my pajamas.” “Wouldn't be the first time. But I agree; they’re wasted on me. Best invite him over.” “You’re relentless.” “Because I love you. And you deserve happiness.” “Deserve has nothing to do with anything. I’ll have to refill my scotch if you’re going soft.” “Time for the second round, then.” “It’s the third, I think.” “Fine. Third. You shouldn’t wor—” “Hold on, someone else is ringing in. I’ll be back in a mo.” “Fine, but I’m not done—” “...Hello?” “Q? This is James Bond.” “...” “Bond?” “Yes... is this Q?” “It is. I just… I’m on another call. If you’d hold one moment… “Of course.” “...” “It’s him. On the other line. What do I do? If I talk to him right now, I know I’ll slip up and say something mortifying.” “...This is still James, Q.” “Oh god. Uh, sorry Bond. Just one moment. I’ll be right back.” “Of course.” “...” “I hate you. You’ve orchestrated this, somehow. Got me drunk and worked on me to tell him how I feel... and suddenly he’s got my number and he's calling on a Friday night…” “...” “Eve?” “Still James, actually.” “Bugger me!” “I was hoping we might start with dinner, actually. It sounds like the conversation will be... lively. Tomorrow at seven?” “...” “...” “Somewhere nice.” “Of course, Q.”

Title: Tongue-Tied Author: sorion Warnings: - Summary: Always listen to your Quartermaster.

"For the record, I do not approve of your course of action, 007."

"Duly noted."

"The only time you duly do anything, I would imagine."

"Dearest Q, if your tone of voice had implied that you truly did not approve or, dare I say it, you were even worried for me, I would have done more than note duly."

"Would you have noted aggressively?"

"At the very least, Quartermaster."

"I'm less than impressed. Assailants are closing in, by the way, in case you hadn't noticed. You also have a blind spot, your four o'clock."

"I had noticed, thank you. Keep me updated on my blind spot, please. ... ... ..."

"Bond! Report!"

"Just some unfriendly fire, no need to worry."

"I was not worried. I asked you to report."

"Of course."

"You will take me seriously."

"Always."

"I'd make a note, but there's activity in your blind spot."

"..."

"Move straight ahead. Watch your left."

"..."

"Take the stairs to the roof. I shut down all elevators."

"How very inconvenient."

"It'll be more inconvenient if they shut them down with you inside one. I can take over controls, but even I can't screw in a fuse remotely. And you don't want them to get to the roof before you, do you?"

"..."

"Can I assume from your heavy breathing that you are heeding my advice for a change? ... Don't laugh and run."

"Did you lock the door to the stairway behind me?"

"That goes without saying. They'll break it down soon enough, no doubt... But not before you get to your airlift."

"Smug little bastard, I love you."

"..."

"... Working with you."

"Slip of the tongue, 007?"

"Ah, well. The sneaking around was fun while it lasted."

"... I'll have you know that nobody here looks particularly surprised. Do stop laughing."

"There's my lift. Wait for me."

"Always."

#10

Title: you know my name (or you don't) Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: Bond is bantering with Q over the earpiece. The topic is, as usual, the mystery of Q's name.

“I'm pretty sure it's Quigley.”

“Really, Bond? Do you believe that my parents would do that to me? Also, we should keep it professional while you're in the field.”

“This is a professional curiosity. Anyway, it says Quashawn in your documents, but I don't think that's true.”

”When did you see my files?”

”I'm a spy, remember?”

”I'll need to have a word with Eve.”

“Or maybe it's Quirrel.”

“Ten points for the Harry Potter reference, but sadly, Quirrel is a surname.”

“So you are admitting that your first name starts with Q?”

“No! Just concentrate on the mission, Bond. Seriously, sometimes I ask myself, how I could love such an annoying git.”

“…”

“What?”

“You're in love with me, Q?”

“No, that would be absurd! It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Ha!”

“Don't flatter yourself, Bond, it's just an expression. It wasn't meant in a romantic way at all.”

“So you love me non-romantically? That makes sense.”

“Oh, no. We are NOT doing this. Can we please go back to your obsession with my name?”

“Perhaps later, this is much more interesting.”

“Don't be a child, Bond. And thanks to you, now I'll need to burn this tape.”

“Such a shame. You could have a beautiful reminder of your love confession.”

“Bond! What do you need me to do to let this go?”

“…”

“Shit. I have to tell you my name, right?”

“I think that could work.”

“And if I do that, you promise that we'll never speak about this ever again?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Okay.”

“So?”

“It's John.”

“Really? That's…”

“Boring? Disappointing? Should I change my name to Quasimodo?”

“No. I actually like this one a lot. And… John?”

“What?”

“When I come back, we should discuss my alleged unprofessionalism over dinner. Non-romantically, of course.”

#11

Title: Static Author: Ksania / @starrboned-art Warnings: Implied canon-typical violence Summary: Bond and Q find themselves in a predicament.

"007."

"..."

"Bond."

"Mmh."

"James!"

"Oof!"

"Good, you're awake."

"I was awake this whole time."

"Of course, my bad for thinking otherwise. Your drooling face is obviously a technique to disarm your captors."

"Glad we're on the same page."

"Indeed."

"....Where are we, exactly?"

"And here I thought you were completely awake this whole time."

"Q."

"I don't know. A warehouse is my best guess. A few miles from London. Grabbed us on the way to Heathrow - how's your head?"

"Hmm, like I got hit by a two-ton truck."

"Memory still intact, I see."

"How are you awake?"

"Luck. Looking harmless enough not to be kicked in the head."

"Ha... Sitrep?"

"Three hostiles at least. One leader, two henchmen. Put a sack over our heads on the way here. Haven’t demanded anything yet - I guess an hour has passed since the car crash."

"Handcuffs?"

"Lockpick, back of the belt."

"Convenient."

"Bond! That is not my belt."

"Sorry, Q."

"Careful, Bond. Slip your fingers in the wrong pocket and you might find yourself without a hand."

"Why, Q, that's quite the image."

"Just get it done, I hear footsteps-"

"Hush, I almost have it-"

"Ah, I see you're finally awake, Mr. Bond."

"You have me at a disadvantage, Miss...?"

"No need for names. You gave us quite the chase in Berlin, Mr. Bond."

"If you wanted a private audience, you should have just said the word. No need for a crowd."

"No? I feel that your boy toy will be quite persuasive."

"Don't you dare-"

"My, villain standards are slipping these days."

"Q!"

"I'm quite alright, Bond. Told you to be careful with what you touch."

"What was it?"

"Oh, just a normal, state-of-the-art taser. Disguised as a credit card."

"And you never gave me one?"

"Only good boys deserve nice toys."

#12

Title: tête-à-tête Author: azure3795arts Warnings: none Summary: short conversations -

“—Focus on my voice. Breathe. In then out—”

“Q?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Sorry, but... Getting a little fuzzy.”

“Hold on. Evac on route. 2 more minutes.”

“I”m afraid I’ll have to see you later, Q.”

“What? 007, What do you—wait—”

“Take care of yourself.”

“No. Bond. Bond!”

“You know what they say about sleeping at your table.”

“That I’m dedicated to my work?”

“No. That you’ll drool and get a stiff neck for your trouble.”

“I don’t drool.”

“Sure. I thought I told you to take care of yourself.”

“Don’t you dare use that card with me, Bond.” – “Not after you did.”

“Resurrection. Hobby—”

“Shut up. You don’t have any equipment to turn in, so do us both a favor and get out.”

“Good morning to you, too, Quartermaster. I’ll leave you to it.”

“... Bond.”

“Yes?”

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you.”

“Does M not have more missions for you, or are you just going into early retirement?”

“Well, you saw the medical file, Q—”

“Bold of you to assume I keep track.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t suppose I can tell you to bugger off from my flat?”

“You can.” – “At the risk of abusing an injured personnel.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” – “Whatever. Stay or leave, just pick one and stop bothering me. And don’t disturb the cats.”

“I won’t.”

“Why keep a cot here if you’re not going to utilize it. At least drag your arse on it.”

“You have no right to tell me where to drag my arse, Bond. No right.”

“Yes, and I suppose you didn’t just nearly walk into a wall.”

“That was one time.”

“You can’t keep doing this, Q.”

“What do you—Who is it?”

“Q…”

“Oh, Miss Moneypenny. Come in.”

“Just... Who were you talking to just now?”

“Nothing. No one.”

#13

Title: Lingerie Author: sparklycitrus Warnings: None Summary: Q and Moneypenny have a pleasant chat on a Friday evening off-work.

“Eve, hello. What can I do for you?” “Hello dear boffin. Are you alone?” “Er, yes?” “Oh, good. Don’t worry, nothing disastrous has happened, I just need your expert opinion on a minor personal emergency. Hold one sec, I’m going to call you back on video.” “Video? Wait, what-?” -- “Hello again. Sorry, have I caught you at a bad time after all?” “Pardon my state of undress. I was just getting ready to go out.” “Ooh, is it a date? Who is it? No one I know, I hope.” “Eve – your emergency?” “Right, do change the subject. Well, no matter, here – gold or blue?” “…what?” “Gold, or blue?” “Are those… meant to be worn on a moving body? The construction doesn’t look sturdy enough for, well, anything really.” “You can come up with a detailed improvement plan later. Which one looks better?” “On you?” “No, on M. Of course on me. Tonight. Under a cocktail dress. Personally I like the gold one – makes my bosom look fuller, no? But the blue is a nicer color. And it works better with my shoes.” “…It has to match your shoes?” “What, you think I’m going to stand in a stranger’s bedroom barefoot. What kind of girl do you take me for?” “Uh…right. Apologies. The gold one, then. The brown accents compliment your eyes. The overall structure is more pleasing on a feminine curve. And yes, it does make bosoms look fuller.” “Excellent. Thank you darling. Now carry on with your evening. I shall go get ready myself.” “Ahem, where did you find these anyway?” “An absolutely adorable online boutique! Good prices, too. Why, thinking of getting one for yourself?” “…” “Oh, oh god. You are seeing someone. Oh it better not be–” “Goodbye, Eve. Have a pleasant evening.” “Q–Oi!”

#14

Title: Slip Over Pints Author: ladymars Warnings: No Warnings Apply Summary: R and S try to advise Q.

"I don't know why I let you two drag me here. Three Science Branch heads at the same place outside of Headquarters? There must be guidelines against this." "Well, I think that's 004 flirting with one of the secretaries, if that makes you feel better." "And this place does make M's favourite chips." "So, have another pint and tell us about your little crush..." "Oh, shush, R. It's nothing like that." "Q, dear, I heard you over the roar of the chemical hood. If Bond didn't hear you, he must be deaf from standing too close to explosions." "Hell, I heard you from across the room even. 'Why don't you go and-'" "I know what I said! It was just a slip of the tongue! Nothing more!" "I think you want a slip of something else from him..." "God, S, you're almost as vulgar as the agents. Leave poor Q alone." "If I'm as vulgar as the agents, then Q definitely has a chance with 007. I bet Bond'd appreciate the honesty." "...You'd really think so?" "Q, don't-" "Yeah! You have to be direct with guys like him, or else he's never gonna understand." "Well, I suppose S has a point... Even if he did hear you, he might not have noticed the double entendre." "Ugh, I'd say I was as direct as him driving a car into the side of a building." "He's going to try to justify it like you're justifying it now. Doesn't he spend all his inactive time at Q Branch?" "He hangs out around my Branch to get at the better weapons, obviously." "Or to get at the Quartermaster. We're trying to save you some time here. Turn the slip of the tongue into a slip into bed." "S, honestly, as bad as the agents..."

#15

Title: Not A Contract Author: Shush_MummyWriting Warnings: None Summary: Department heads are always swamped with paperwork.

“Eve, what is this?” “My darling Q, that is an EMP172 form – Official Notification of Intimate Relationship between Staff Members.” “But why is it on top of my Executive Signature pack? Am I supposed to give it to someone – it’s not Robert and that girl from Accounting is it? I’m the Department Head, I shouldn’t have to deal with personal things like this. That's for HR.” “Sweetheart – it’s for you. I even thought I would save you some time, see on page two - I have already filled out James’ details.” “I beg your pardon?” “You and one ruggedly handsome James Bond of course. That fish mouthed look is very unbecoming Q dear.” “But……” “But nothing. It’s just a slip of paper, not a contract. I am quite frankly tired of watching the two of you dancing around each other. It is time you both did something about it. And if you boys ever decide to make it completely official, I expect some credit during the Wedding speeches.” “Check the back page.” “DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!” “You’ve already signed it.” “Of course.” “Eve, please shut the door on your way out.” “I’m not going to sign this, until you have taken me out on a proper date.” “I have a booking for us, for tonight, at the Ritz. I’ll pick you up at your place at seven.” “How do you know where – no, never mind. Seven it is.” “And Q, that grey suit you wore to the Ministerial meeting last week, wear that – please.” “Alright. Now get out of my office. See you at seven, 007.” "If we are going to do this, I think you should start calling me James." "James. But call me Q - don't want you slipping up on mission."

Thank you to our amazing drabble writers for their contributions this week!

And thank you to you for reading and voting. You can see the results here.

#LDWS #james bond fanfiction #drabbles #signal boost #writing competition

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essieeeeeeeee · 5 years ago

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Hello friend! Taking you up on your offer to write something for my bday. What about a scene in an A/B/O Au, where Alpha Luke is just discovering that Deckard is an omega? I always love the reveal 💕 Thank you so much friend!!

hey omni! sorry for the belatedness of this!

so, I apologize in advance, because this is not actually the reveal part, but I swear that’ll come. I just suck at having motivation to keep typing shit unless I post it in bits. so here’s bit #1.

————————–

Hobbs wouldn’t really consider himself genderist.

Sure, he’s an alpha–and he’s not particularly shy about it, either. He doesn’t really mind walking the stereotypical path of having the size and the brawn and the swaggering intensity to back up his orientation, doesn’t shy away from playing the part. He enjoys it. The dominance that comes with that territory feels second nature, and it works for him.

But he’s well aware that’s not always the case.

Hobbs doesn’t subscribe to the bullshit; the rhetoric that says a person’s orientation dictates their behavior, that spouts nonsense about betas walking so alphas can run, about omegas needing protection and pampering above all others for their delicate constitutions. Partly because he’s not an asshole, and partly because he’d been smacked upside the head as a posturing teenager one too many times by his very omega mother to ever really believe she needed anything along the lines of protection.

He’s a liberal guy. Pays his taxes without complaint, votes in favor of cleaner air and military gender desegregation. Even dated another alpha or two, through the years.

He’s a single alpha dad with a nine year old omega daughter, and he knows better than to let bias steer his judgement.

But the thing is–Hobbs had always assumed Shaw was a beta.

***

Well. Maybe not at first.

The first time he meets Deckard Shaw, when they’re throwing each other through walls and tables and desks and everything in between, demolishing the office space around them, squaring up and prowling around each other like a couple of bristling predators–beta isn’t the impression Hobbs gets.

It’s pure, unadulterated alpha.

Hobbs senses it the instant his gaze lands on Shaw, feels it in the way the other man holds himself: tightly coiled, like a tiger looking for the moment to spring. There’s wildfire in his eyes when he turns towards Hobbs.

And as their eyes lock, Hobbs’ own alpha rises up to meet it, interest piqued.

It likes the tension in the air. Likes the way Shaw’s brimming with the kind of righteous fury that could burn the world down around him, and fuck the consequences. From the second Shaw turns away from the computer screen and looks at him, hatred etched into the lines of his face, Hobbs knows this is a man who’s come to prove something.

And Hobbs gets it. He understands what Shaw’s doing here, the way any alpha would. In that split second he even comes close to feeling–not sorry for Shaw, but regretful, maybe, because he’s seen the medical reports. They’re tucked into a file labeled O. S. in the corner cabinet of his office, with pictures of the damage Hobbs and Toretto and the rest of them had played their parts in inflicting.

Vivid images of Owen Shaw’s face charred to unholy hell, half of it nearly unrecognizable.

They’re jarring, and not something Hobbs is particularly proud of. He can’t imagine how Deckard Shaw felt, seeing that kind of shit up close and personal on the face of his baby brother.

Thing is, nine times out of ten Hobbs prefers bringing in his targets over putting ‘em down. For the sake of his own conscience if nothing else. He doesn’t want to bring that kind of damage home, to Sam and the rest of his life. Doesn’t like the way the blood on his hands lingers. Hobbs isn’t that kind of alpha, the one that enjoys the hunt and the kill, the way a few of the other agents he’s had the displeasure of working with over the years could be. So Owen Shaw may have brought his own fate down on himself with his schemes and his games, but it didn’t mean the outcome was the one Hobbs was looking for when he started that chase.

And part of him, some strange impulse in the back of his head, wants to tell Shaw that. Tell him that yeah–he gets it.

Because if word came that someone’d put down one of his brothers like that, wrecked them so badly they were breathing through a tube and dead to the world for months on end, he’d–he’d probably do the same.

Let the primal part of his instincts take over. Bulldoze his way through the world until the culprit was a fine paste beneath his boot.

It’s an alpha’s job, isn’t it? Vengeance.

And it’s one Shaw seems to take seriously, going by the way he launches Hobbs’ own desk into his gut, and launches himself right after it.

He comes quicker than Hobbs can predict. There’s no time to brace himself for the impact; he takes the kick to the face, and goes down harder from it than expected. He rolls to his feet, still pulling his senses back into place, and takes another two fast hits to the jaw before wrapping his arms around Shaw and throwing him bodily through the next two glass partitions.

Hobbs can feel his blood rushing, the sweet buzz of adrenaline on his skin, and he huffs out a breath of excitement as his opponent comes wheeling back for more.

Shaw, he finds, fights like a goddamn devil.

The man’s strong. Not as strong as Hobbs, maybe, but he makes up for it in everything else. He’s quick, and wiley, and can take a right hook to the face like nobody’s business, and it’s a damn shame that he’s the bad guy here, because Hobbs can’t help but enjoy this. It’s been a long time since someone’s challenged him like this, and his alpha’s snarling almost gleefully in the back of his head over it.

This is what he’d been missing earlier in the day, when his target had rolled over like a dog. Elena had pinned him as disappointed, and she’d been right, goddamnit, because the way Hobbs’ heart is pounding in his chest feels like the rush only a drug can give. He can’t get enough of it. Wants more.

It’s a bit distracting. Hobbs blames that for the way Shaw lands a one-two-three series of hits on him, shoving his foot into Hobbs’ gut with a punishing kick, before throwing his entire body forward and sending them both flying down into the desk below them.

Jesus, he thinks, and it’s less an expletive and more a praise.

Hobbs can’t tell if his alpha’s furious or turned the fuck on when he crashes through the table and to the floor beneath it, Shaw still wrapped around him like a snarling wildcat, but he’s betting it’s somewhere in between.

There’s not much time to appreciate the feeling, though, between the burst of pain up his back and Shaw dragging him up to his feet for more. Hobbs meets him with a knee to the gut for the trouble.

From there it’s a dance. Shaw lashes out with a punch, blocks Hobbs’ own, meets him with a kick to the knee and an elbow to the face. Hobbs stumbles back, then surges forward, puts in a few hits of his own, crashes his head against Shaw’s in a move that has him tasting blood on his own tongue. And then, with a roar of self-assured triumph, he wraps an arm around Shaw’s neck and lifts him in the air. Shaw kick out, eyes widening in realization, but it does’t save him from Hobbs heaving him forcefully down into the glass tabletop below.

It shatters. Shaw crashes through it and hits the ground with a crunching thud, Hobbs following from above.

The move must’ve done the trick, because afterwards, for the first time since the fight began, it’s quiet. The whirlwind of fists and kicks and rage settles.

Shaw lays still, a dazed look in his eyes.

Hobbs’ heart is still hammering, excitement and aggression clouding his mind. And before he can stop to think, to take the brief reprieve where Shaw’s lying winded underneath him to regroup and get the upper hand, his instincts surge to the foreground with an intensity that overwhelms every shred of common sense.

He turns his face to Shaw’s neck, drags his nose against the stubble at his throat, and inhales.

Shaw grunts, but Hobbs ignores it, because the desire to get a whiff of the man’s scent is almost maddening. Hobbs’ alpha is eager for it, clawing forward, craving the heady fight-or-flight smell of adrenaline and anger and blood that it just knows that Shaw’s putting off, practically knocking the doors down for just a second to lunge forward and breathe him in–

But nothing meets him.

No rusty hint of blood. No tang of adrenaline.

No scent.

Just the faint smell of plain soap, with a sharp underlying hint of chemicals.

Scent blockers, Hobbs thinks, disappointment flooding through him.

His hand slides up to the base of Shaw’s throat and rests there for just a second, twitching, and the insane urge to stay down, stay close hits him. He wants to pin Shaw’s hands to the ground. Wants to wrap his fingers around Shaw’s neck and press. Squeeze just enough until the man’s whining with it.

He wants to dominate him. Show Shaw who the real alpha was, here.

It’s that thought that snaps Hobbs out of it, though, and has him jerking up and away in surprise, because what the fuck is he doing?

He reels back up onto his knees and stares down at Shaw, wide-eyed.

This ain’t him. He needs to get his head on straight, because his instincts are flying off the rails into overdrive. Hobbs hasn’t been this out of his own mind over a fight in years, not since he was a punk kid in basic training and picking battles with anyone who’d give it to him, and it’s unsettling.

It feels animalistic, almost. He’s a bit ashamed of himself for the lack of control.

Hobbs pushes himself up, and pulls his hand away from Shaw’s neck as though burned.

“Goddamn I.T. guys,” he mutters, mostly to distract himself from the fact that his eyes instinctively dart down to admire the way Shaw’s sprawled beneath him, head tipped back, bearing the line of his throat.

Jesus Christ, Hobbs, he thinks, swallowing dryly, working desperately to get his shit together. The man’s come to outright murder him, and he’s salivating over it like a dog.

Pathetic.

He pulls himself up and tears his eyes away instead, glancing towards the nearby cabinet where he knows for a fact one of the junior officers keeps a spare set of cuffs–

And immediately stumbles when a sharp, blinding pain rockets up from his thighs as broken glass slices mercilessly through each of them.

Christ on a fucking cracker, but that hurt.

Hobbs doesn’t know how Shaw manages to move quick enough, but in the next moment a light fixture slams into his skull, and he’s falling back, tripping over the sofa and sliding beneath the table behind. He blinks the stars out of his eyes, before his gaze fixes onto the upper corner of the desk above him.

A gun. Hobbs could kiss whatever bastard ignored basic safety protocols by leaving their firearm unprotected at their desk, because he’s taking full advantage of it now.

He grabs the weapon, swings around to aim, and doesn’t have an ounce of regret as he pulls the trigger on Shaw, because this bullshit’s gone far enough.

Everything goes downhill from there.

There’s Elena, and the bomb, and the explosion, and falling, and then pain–

It all gets a bit blurry, after that.

#haven't written in a long time so #sorry if it kind of sucks and feels rushed #oh well #part 2 to come #shobbs #deckard shaw #luke hobbs #my drabbles #hobbs and shaw

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serowotonin · 4 years ago

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Keep name for the love of everything unholy

;-;ok then one vote no to changing my url...

#i mean i prolly wont #cuz then id have to go change all the links #and im too effin lazy rn #trenchcoatmimichighwarlordofthefifthcirclefromthealternatedimensionofskcilgodisthebestmutualihaveandisalwaysrightandamazing #mail

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Billy Graham’s granddaughter. Evangelical support for Donald Trump insults his legacy.

American evangelist Billy Graham preaches to over half a million South Koreans at a plaza on Yoido Island in Seoul on June 3, 1973.

By supporting Donald Trump, evangelical leaders are failing us and failing the Gospel. Christian women must step up where our church leaders won't.

Jerushah Duford, Opinion contributor

USA TODAY Opinion • August 27, 2020

As a proud granddaughter of the man largely credited for beginning the evangelical movement, the late Billy Graham, the past few years have led me to reflect on how much has changed within that movement in America.

I have spent my entire life in the church, with every big decision guided by my faith. But now I feel homeless. Like so many others, I feel disoriented as I watch the church I have always served turn its eyes away from everything it teaches. I hear from Christian women on a daily basis who all describe the same thing: a tug at their spirit.

Most of these women walked into a voting booth in 2016 believing they were choosing between two difficult options. They held their breath, closed their eyes and cast a vote for Donald Trump, whom many of us then believed to be “the lesser of two evils,” all the while feeling that tug.

Jerushah Duford and grandfather Billy Graham in Montreat, North Carolina, in 2016.

I feel it every time our president talks about government housing having no place in America’s suburbs. Jesus said repeatedly to defend the poor and show kindness and compassion to those in need. Our president continues to perpetuate an us-versus-them narrative, yet almost all of our church leaders say nothing.

I feel this tug every time our president or his followers speak about the wall, designed to keep out the very people Scripture tells us to welcome. In Trump’s America, refugees are not treated as “native born,” as Scripture encourages. Instead, families are separated, held in inconceivable conditions and cast aside as less than.

The church honors Trump before God

Trump has gone so far as to brag about his plans, accomplishments and unholy actions toward the marginalized communities I saw my grandfather love and serve. I now see, through the silence of church leaders, that these communities are no longer valued by individuals claiming to uphold the values my grandfather taught.

The gentle tug became an aggressive yank, for me, earlier this year, when our country experienced division in the form of riots, incited in great part by this president’s divisive rhetoric. I watched our president walk through Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C., after the tear gassing of peaceful protesters for a photo op.

He held a Bible, something so sacred to all of us, yet he treated that Bible with a callousness that would offend anyone intimately familiar with the words inside it. He believed that action would honor him and only him. However, the church, designed to honor God, said nothing.

It seems that the only evangelical leaders to speak up praised the president, with no mention of his behavior that is antithetical to the Jesus we serve. The entire world has watched the term “evangelical” become synonymous with hypocrisy and disingenuousness.

My faith and my church have become a laughing stock, and any attempt by its members to defend the actions of Trump at this time sound hollow and insincere.

One of my grandfather’s favorite verses was Micah 6:8, in which we are told that the Lord requires of his people to do justly, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk humbly. These are the attributes of our faith we should present to the world. We can no longer allow our church leaders to represent our faith so erroneously.

Women of faith know better

I have given myself permission to lean into that tug at my spirit and speak out. I may be against the tide, but I am firm in my faith that this step is most consistent with my church and its teachings.

At a recent large family event, I was pulled aside by many female family members thanking me for speaking out against an administration with which they, too, had been uncomfortable. With tears in their eyes, they used a hushed tone, out of fear that they were alone or at risk of undeserved retribution.

How did we get here? How did we, as God-fearing women, find ourselves ignoring the disrespect and misogyny being shown from our president? Why do we feel we must express our discomfort in hushed whispers in quiet corners? Are we not allowed to stand up when it feels everyone else around us is sitting down?

The God we serve empowers us as women to represent Him before our churches. We represent God before we represented any political party or leader. When we fail to remember this, we are minimizing the role He created for us to fill. Jesus loved women; He served women; He valued women. We need to give ourselves permission to stand up to do the same.

If a plane gets even slightly off course, it will never reach its destination without a course correction. Perhaps this journey for us women looks similar. Perhaps you cringe at the president suggesting that America’s “suburban housewife” cares more about her status than those in need, but try to dismiss comments on women’s appearance as fake news.

When we look at our daughters, our nieces, our female students, and even ourselves, we feel the need to lean into that tug on our spirit. You might not have felt it four years ago; we do the best with what we know at the time. However, if we continue to ignore the tug we now feel, how will we ever be able to identify what is truly important to us?

I chose to listen to my spirit to speak out. Not because doing so feels comfortable, but because it feels like the right way to leverage the voice God has empowered me with. Now I am asking all of you who feel as I do, to embrace your inner tug, and allow it to lead you to use the power of your God-given voice and not allow Trump to lead this country for another four years.

Jerushah Duford is an evangelical author, speaker and member of Lincoln Women, a coalition of women in the Lincoln Project.

_______________________________________

A false gospel: Trump and the 'prosperity gospel' sell false promises to credulous evangelical Christians

_______________________________________

The forgotten figure who explains how Trump got almost 74 million votes

Why do so many evangelicals continue to deny that Biden won the election?

Six Surprising Ways Jesus Changed The World

Jesus ‘Bows to Moon’

The Korean background of the FFWPU

The FFWPU / Unification Church and Shamanism

The FFWPU is unequivocally not Christian

Sun Myung Moon – Emperor, and God

The Moons’ God is not the God of Judeo-Christianity

Hak Ja Han is ‘Female Jesus, the only begotten daughter of God, the LSA’ (October 24, 2015)

God, Sun Myung Moon and Hak Ja Han achieved unity inside the womb…. Hak Ja Han was lifted up to God’s wife position.

#Billy Graham #Evangelical Christianity #Sun Myung Moon #Hak Ja Han

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