#on a lighter note he also said that i would be an excellent teaching case | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohayohimawari · 6 years ago

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Tumblr Milestone!

For whatever reason, Tumblr has chosen to keep me hidden from tags, searches, etc. So, I’m really, really thrilled to have finally hit a milestone of 100 followers!

Thank you, you 100 of the most beautiful, most excellent, most exceptional people, for finding me and for following me. An additional HUGE thank you for reblogging my posts (especially the ones that contain my fics) so others may find me too. You make me visible.

To celebrate reaching this milestone, I’ve written a short story, which I hope you read, enjoy, review and share. It was based partly on this gif:

The Troublesome Genius

Read below the cut, or on: AO3 FF

Rated: T

Pairing: ShikaTema

Other characters: Kakashi, Sai, Shikadai, Tonton

Summary: Shikamaru Nara maneuvers his way through the troublesome aspects of being a husband, father, and assistant to the Rokudaime.

The Troublesome Genius

“Come in.”

Shikamaru looked up from his task at the unexpected knock on the door to the Hokage’s office. The Rokudaime, however, continued to address the stack of paperwork in front of him. “You can add this one to the ‘Un-fun’ file,” he said as he handed the top sheet to his assistant.

“Good afternoon.” Sai’s polite monotone greeted them as he quietly closed the office door behind him.

“Hey, Sai. What brings you here?” Shikamaru lifted Tonton off a tall stack of papers to add another to it. He returned his gaze to their visitor and watched him set a large, earthenware pot on the Hokage’s desk.

“Ino asked me to bring this for your and Shikadai’s dinner this evening.” Sai finished with a smile that was more genuine than he’d been capable of in the past.

“Un-fun.” Kakashi handed another piece of paper to his assistant, and Shikamaru added it to the towering stack. “You have the whole village cooking for you this week Shikamaru,” the Rokudaime continued. “I’m jealous. When does Temari return?”

“The day after tomorrow. Shikadai and I should probably start cleaning the house up tonight.” Shikamaru chuckled to himself, thinking of the lazy week he and his young son had been enjoying in his wife’s absence.

“It’s been slow this week, you can take a half-day tomorrow and have one more evening to be kings of your castle. Ooh here's one for the ‘Fun’ file.” Kakashi handed the piece of paper he’d briefly checked to his assistant as he spoke.

“What’re you doing?” Sai asked as Shikamaru added the piece of paper he’d been given to the smallest stack upon the Hokage’s desk.

“Filing.” Shikamaru offered the succinct explanation as Sai moved the pot he’d brought further away from the growing piles of ‘organized’ tasks. Nara then returned his attention to the Rokudaime, “I appreciate that Kakashi, but are you sure? The ‘Un-fun’ stack is getting out of hand again.”

“And here’s another one to add to that file, but don’t worry, I’ll get around to it.” Kakashi waved his hand in a dismissive gesture once Shikamaru had relieved it of the ‘Un-fun’ document. “It’ll probably take you the whole afternoon to return everyone’s dishes to them. Besides, what’s the point of having fought so hard for this era of peace if families like yours don’t enjoy it?”

“Oink, oink!” Tonton added her two cents to the conversation.

“Well said, my dear.” Kakashi ceased reading to pat the head of the unofficial mascot of his office. Then he turned to his assistant again, “How’ve you two spent the last week with your house to yourselves?”

“In our underwear, mostly.” Shikamaru laughed, and even Sai joined him, understanding the joy of sharing such simple freedom with his own son whenever Ino left for a ‘Ladies Weekend.’

“Also, not doing the dishes,” Shikamaru smirked. His grin grew wider when he softly added, “I’ve started to teach him how to play shogi.”

“Ah, now that’s time well spent.” The Rokudaime displayed his smile through closed and creased eyes.

Eyes that flew open in the next moment when a woman yelled from the other side of his closed office door. “Where is he?!?!”

Shikamaru recognized that shriek, and before the door to the Hokage’s office was flung open, had just enough time to utter, “Don’t leave me.”

Temari stood in the doorway, her eyes quickly scanning the occupants of the Hokage’s office until they landed on Shikamaru and stayed there. The three men watched as a dangerous calm visibly settled over her face.

“You’re back early,” Shikamaru choked out, in what he hoped was a cheerful greeting.

Temari’s eyes narrowed in reply.

“How was your trip?” He attempted again.

“Shut up.” Temari folded her arms across her chest. “Please excuse my intrusion Hokage-sama, but I need to speak to your genius assistant about his genius son.”

“I was about to leave anyway,” Sai offered.

Shikamaru knew that Sai would be the first to betray him and was prepared for it. “Yes, to deliver that message for me, thank you. I’ve almost finished drafting it.” He grabbed the nearest piece of paper and quickly scribbled his plea where Sai could see him,

Find Shikadai-I don’t care how-tell him Mom’s home early, and he needs to wash all the dirty dishes. Now. Tell him I said to take out the trash too. Hurry.

Sai accepted the note and his mission with a nod. He took a step towards the door where Temari still stood, second-guessed himself, and chose to exit the Hokage’s office via the window instead.

Temari aimed her gaze at the Rokudaime next. “It’s his office, you can’t expect him to leave,” Shikamaru started.

However, Kakashi was already standing and gathered Tonton into his arms. “I think it would be best if I did.” He looked at Temari and continued, “Only for a moment though, it’s been a hectic week for us. In fact,” he turned to Shikamaru, “I may have to ask your husband to work this weekend to help me catch up, depending upon your situation of course,” he finished with a wink to his assistant before turning to exit.

“O-oink?” Tonton looked up at the Rokudaime as he carried her to the door with him.

“Exactly. How do you always know just what to say?” Kakashi replied to the pig as he walked around Temari and closed the door behind him, leaving the Naras to themselves.

Shikamaru stood still, carefully observing his wife. His previous attempts to get to the root of the problem had proven unsuccessful. He stuffed one hand into his pocket, found the lighter that had belonged to his sensei, and ran his thumb over it as his mind thought through the various possibilities for her foul mood.

‘Had she been home and found the mess? Maybe. She doesn’t look like she’s been home though, she’s still carrying her fan and her bag… Birthday? Anniversary? No, she wouldn’t have gone to Suna for a visit if that was the case. She ended her trip early and rushed back here-shit! Did Kankuro tell her about the stag party? No, no she said she needed to talk about my genius son-not our son, my son, and she called me a genius too, so that means…’

“What’d he do?” He asked aloud.

“Pulled the fire alarm at The Little Leaves Kindergarten Ninja Academy!”

Shikamaru felt his jaw drop at Temari’s exclamation. His eyes drifted to the window behind her in time to see Shikadai’s worried and tear-streaked face fly past on one of Sai’s ink birds in the direction of the Nara home.

His eyes quickly returned to Temari’s. “When?”

“This morning, while the kids were lined up to go outside for first recess. The school called me at the emergency telephone number listed on my parent contact card. I was so embarrassed taking that call, in front of everyone in the Kazekage’s office, Shikamaru!” Temari smacked her hand down on the Hokage’s desk in a show of her frustration. “I told them to call you, but the secretary said she couldn’t. Do you know why?”

Shikamaru gulped, as he suddenly remembered the forgotten, blank parent contact card sitting in his desk drawer at home.

Temari brought her hands up to her head and massaged her temples with her fingers. “I’m upset that this interrupted my visit with my brothers, I’m exhausted from rushing here by train, and I’m sick of being the ‘mean parent,’ Shikamaru.” She let her arms fall to her sides, exposing her face which was flushed from stress and emotion.

“Look, I understand that I’m not allowed in your and Shikadai’s boys-only club and I know that you two laugh at how strict I can be. However, I’d really appreciate it if you could see your way to completing more of the ‘troublesome’ tasks of parenthood so I could be part of the joke instead of just the butt of it.”

Shikamaru stood silent, his thumb running over the inherited lighter in his pocket. He began to realize how his behavior as a father had been inherited as well, and he considered the impact it had on the woman he’d asked to be his partner. He could only think of one maneuver to resolve the situation.

“You’re correct, and I’m sorry Temari.”

It appeared his wife hadn’t expected him to understand and apologize so readily and it almost pained him to see it. But she relaxed and replied in the gentle voice she reserved just for him. “Thank you, Shikamaru.”

He returned her soft smile with a sheepish one of his own. Then he sighed and ran a hand down his face, tugging a little at his goatee. “Why did he pull the fire alarm, though? I can’t imagine Shikadai doing such a stupid prank, it’s not like him at all.”

Temari chuckled, and it was Shikamaru’s turn to be surprised at his spouse’s reaction. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t funny to me at the time, even though the teacher was laughing when he told me.” Temari quieted her laughter long enough to explain, “Apparently, your genius son is learning to read faster and better than we thought. He pulled the fire alarm because the words, ‘please pull’ are stamped right on it.”

Shikamaru groaned, and Temari laughed louder at his reaction. “His teacher explained to me that it happens often enough that a request was sent to the Hokage’s office to have the alarms replaced.”

“It’s filed,” came the muffled voice of the eavesdropping Rokudaime from the other side of his office door.

Shikamaru looked at the leaning tower of ‘Un-fun’ paperwork and groaned again.

“Regardless of the reason, he still had to be punished and served detention after school today,” Temari finished relating Shikadai’s unfortunate day to his father as she opened the office door so Kakashi could reenter.

The Rokudaime still held Tonton while he sat in the chair at his desk again. Shikamaru had begun sifting through the tallest stack of documents, looking for a request from The Little Leaves Kindergarten Ninja Academy. “I think we need to rethink our filing system, Hokage-sama.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi reluctantly agreed, setting Tonton down on his desk.

“Well, I’d better go collect our genius son from school.” Temari sighed. “His detention ended fifteen minutes ago, but I had to cool off before I could pick him up. I’m sure he’s waiting for me now and dreading my reaction.”

Shikamaru smiled when Temari used the word ‘our’ to describe their son again, but then he recalled the image of Shikadai flying past the windows, as well as his instruction to clean up the evidence of the lazy week they’d had while his wife was away. “Wait—” his mind raced to cover up one last secret of the boys-only club, “as you say, he’s a genius. Shikadai will know to head home by now, and I’m sure he’s had enough trouble for one day. You must be tired after your unexpected trip back. Why don’t I take you out for tea and then we can pick dinner up on our way home?”

“I thought you two were having a ‘hectic week’?”

“The Rokudaime assured me he didn’t need me to get through the ‘Un-fun file’ himself,” Shikamaru quickly and subtly appealed to Kakashi with his eyes. The Rokudaime assented with a slight nod of his head.

“The what file?” Temari turned back to face the Hokage and his assistant.

“Besides, what’s the point of having fought so hard for this era of peace if families like ours don’t enjoy it?” Shikamaru recycled Kakashi’s words as he set aside his work in favor of leaving with his wife instead.

“Oink, oink,” Tonton approved.

“Oink, oink,” Kakashi concurred and waved goodbye to the departing couple.

The End

#tumblr milestone #fanfic #shikatema #kakashi #sai #tonton #shikadai #shikamaru #temari #my fanfiction #fanfic by ohayohimawari #ohayohimawari

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fizzingwizard · 6 years ago

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I reread the Sherlock Holmes stories at least once a year. Every time, I’m impressed with something new. I’ve really got to start a Holmesian side blog.

For now, enjoy what is basically me live-tweeting “The Problem of Thor Bridge,” although I actually read it a few days ago. Holmes is in his late 40s.

The story in short: A woman has been killed, and the family’s governess is accused, because the woman’s jackass husband is totally into her.

It was a wild morning in October, and I observed as I was dressing how the last remaining leaves were being whirled from the solitary plane tree which graces the yard behind our house. I descended to breakfast prepared to find my companion in depressed spirits, for, like all great artists, he was easily impressed by his surroundings.

We start off with an image of the moody, artistic, disconsolate Holmes, and a depiction of Watson, the guy who knows everything about him.

On the contrary, I found that... his mood was particularly bright and joyous, with that somewhat sinister cheerfulness which was characteristic of his lighter moments.

"You have a case, Holmes?" I remarked.

"The faculty of deduction is certainly contagious, Watson," he answered.

Every. Little. Thing.

Also, please note, sinister cheerfulness.

Watson: Holmes, you’re... happy. Good Lord, who’s been murdered!?

"... We may discuss it when you have consumed the two hard-boiled eggs with which our new cook has favoured us. Their condition may not be unconnected with the copy of the Family Herald which I observed yesterday upon the hall-table. Even so trivial a matter as cooking an egg demands an attention which is conscious of the passage of time and incompatible with the love romance in that excellent periodical."

Ooh. Victorian burn!

"I am getting into your involved habit, Watson, of telling a story backward."

Holmes’s pastime - casually insulting Watson.

Watson’s probable reaction:

By the way, let’s keep track of Holmes burns, shall we? So far he’s roasted both Watson and the poor cook at Baker Street.

"... A revolver with one discharged chamber and a calibre which corresponded with the bullet was found on the floor of her wardrobe." His eyes fixed and he repeated in broken words, "On—the—floor—of—her—wardrobe." Then he sank into silence.

Sherlock Holmes abruptly cutting off, repeating himself in staccato, then getting lost in thought and forgetting he was talking to someone. Just a day in the life of Dr. Watson.

When this sort of thing happens for a prolonged time, Watson has a habit of... falling asleep. Lol. Not that I blame him

Enter Bates, who is a manager for today’s client, Gibson, a gold mining magnate. Bates does not like Gibson.

"Those public charities are a screen to cover his private iniquities."

A breakdown of big business if I ever saw one.

Holmes doesn’t like Gibson either.

"What the devil do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes? Do you dismiss my case?"

"Well, Mr. Gibson, at least I dismiss you."

Holmes Burn Count: 3.

I sprang to my feet, for the expression upon the millionaire's face was fiendish in its intensity, and he had raised his great knotted fist.

Gasp! Someone makes a threatening gesture at Sherlock Holmes, something that surely happens with regularity!

Watson:

We learn Gibson has a crush on his governess, who is accused of killing his wife.

"I could not live under the same roof with such a woman and in daily contact with her without feeling a passionate regard for her. Do you blame me, Mr. Holmes?"

"I do not blame you for feeling it. I should blame you if you expressed it, since this young lady was in a sense under your protection."

Holy cheese whiz, Batman! Don’t hit on your employees! See! Even in a world without bills against sexual harassment in the workplace, this was understood!

"I've been a man that reached out his hand for what he wanted, and I never wanted anything more than the love and possession of that woman. I told her so."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

Holmes could look very formidable when he was moved.

Sherlock Holmes:

"I said that money was no object and that all I could do to make her happy and comfortable would be done."

"Very generous, I am sure," said Holmes with a sneer.

Holmes Burn Count: 4

On a side note, more Holmes actors should sneer.

"Some of you rich men have to be taught that all the world cannot be bribed into condoning your offences."

PREACH IT BROTHER.

"And women lead an inward life and may do things beyond the judgement of a man."

I love how this is just accepted in this time period. Gibson is speaking, and Holmes and Watson are gentlemen, but no one’s going to contradict this statement.

Man: does something completely against his character. Everyone else: How strange! There must be some reason. Meanwhile, Woman: does something completely against her character. Everyone: Well, she’s an illogical woman, what do you expect?

I mean dude. They talk this way in the original Star Trek, which had female character working in high-level positions (albeit not starship captain). And the “illogical woman” line appeared pretty much every time a plot involved a woman. It’s crazy how persistent a stereotype this was. At least “female hysteria” was still considered a Thing in Holmes’s time - by Star Trek’s time it had been dropped since the 1950s.

Anyway, I can’t understand a thing men do.

"[My wife] was crazy with hatred and the heat of the Amazon was always in her blood."

Whenever a character isn’t English, they are assigned some ethnic trait that usually makes them more passionate and unreasonable than English people. The English don’t escape critique, but foreigners definitely feel the burn the greatest. If an excuse can be found to blame something on a character being “tropical” or “fiery” because they’re from the Mediterranean or overseas, it will be used. And it’s usually a female character. (Though probably the one who gets it the worst is the poor Andaman Islander in The Sign of Four, who is a man, but barely even afforded humanity by the text.)

Holmes and Watson travel out to investigate. They meet the local police, who’s grateful to work with Holmes.

"And your friend, Dr. Watson, can be trusted, I know."

This is just how you react when Holmes shows up with Watson, since Holmes’s modus operandi is “Anything you say to me will eventually get back to Watson anyway.”

"Well now, Watson, suppose for a moment that we visualise you in the character of a woman who, in a cold, premeditated fashion, is about to get rid of a rival..."

So there’s an episode of House MD where House asks Wilson to envision himself as his patient, who is a middle-aged Chinese woman. Wilson is like “ok” and House says “Say it.” So Wilson says “I’m a middle-aged Chinese woman.” And House is like, “good.” And clearly it’s from “Thor Bridge” bwahahahaha.

"Your best friends would hardly call you a schemer, Watson, and yet I could not picture you doing anything so crude as that."

Watson Cannot Lie. It Is Known. At least, he cannot lie convincingly for more than a few minutes. Also, he is a Good Guy, Whom Holmes Trusts Implicitly.

(The Casebook has quite a few Watson-validating moments.)

"I can see now that I was wrong. Nothing could justify me in remaining where I was a cause of unhappiness, and yet it is certain that the unhappiness would have remained even if I had left the house."

^This is the governess, Ms Dunbar, teaching us all that a good deed never goes unpunished. I disagree with calling Ms Dunbar the “cause” of unhappiness, as the cause is clearly the husband. Ms Dunbar’s one bad decision was in not putting some form of distance between herself and Gibson. She seems to have thought they were safe as long as they were not being physically intimate, but other forms of intimacy were okay. And, to be frank, it seems not unlikely by the end that for all Gibson’s lack of morals, and in spite of her own, Ms Dunbar loves him back.

At the same time, she’s also right that no matter what choice she made, Gibson and his wife were not going to be happy together. It’s completely Gibson’s fault though. And the fault of a society where leaving a marriage left a black mark.

"How do you know [the murder weapon wasn’t already planted in your room]?"

"Because I tidied out the wardrobe."

"That is final."

Who is she, Marie Kondo?

Holmes did not answer. His pale, eager face had suddenly assumed that tense, far-away expression which I had learned to associate with the supreme manifestations of his genius. So evident was the crisis in his mind that none of us dared to speak, and we sat, barrister, prisoner, and myself, watching him in a concentrated and absorbed silence.

More of Silent, Pensive Holmes and his Rapt Audience. Watson won’t fall asleep when others are around, so instead they all stare at Holmes. Literally. That’s what it says. No one dares speak and they all just stare at him.

Suddenly, as we neared our destination he seated himself opposite to me—we had a first-class carriage to ourselves—

I like that Watson feels compelled to explain this to us this.

and laying a hand upon each of my knees he looked into my eyes with the peculiarly mischievous gaze which was characteristic of his more imp-like moods.

The body language in this passage. Holmes getting all silly and excited. Watson still just staring. This scene is probably the most Guy Ritchie-like it gets.

Also, please note imp-like.

Watson: Get your hands off my knees Sherlock Holmes you adorable fucker.

"Watson," said he, "I have some recollection that you go armed upon these excursions of ours."

It was as well for him that I did so, for he took little care for his own safety when his mind was once absorbed by a problem so that more than once my revolver had been a good friend in need. I reminded him of the fact.

"Yes, yes, I am a little absent-minded in such matters."

Holmes: Hey Watson, are you packing heat?

Watson: Well YEAH, you careless bastard. Someone’s got to prevent your death, since you won’t.

Holmes: YOLO

(Although, it’s more like YOLT, in this specific case.)

"See, Watson, your revolver has solved the problem!"

^After using Watson’s revolver in an experiment which results in the gun falling off the bridge into the depths of the river.

Watson: Thank you, Holmes. I liked that revolver.

Holmes: Psh, quit your bitching, we’ll drag the river for it.

In the end, it turns out the wife concocted a plan for her own suicide that would make it look like the governess murdered her. Although this story would definitely have been better without the racism and sexism, one thing that I can’t help but appreciate is that Gibson, a Generally Bad Guy, is not The Bad Guy, and gets to continue living his rich and ruthless life. On top of that, he’s even rid of his wife who wasn’t beautiful anymore, and potentially going to marry the beautiful younger woman. So he gets no consequences for treating his wife terribly, putting the moves on his employee, or just for being a jackass. Instead, he gets even More. It’s hyper realism. ACD ain’t pulling his punches with this one. /cynicism

And that’s it for “Thor Bridge!” This was very fun for me to do though I doubt anyone will read it! But I’ll almost definitely make more so I can continue to share the running inner monologue that goes on in my head whenever I read Holmes stories. I enjoy snickering to myself with or without an audience.

Our Holmes Burn Count was only 4, though I could have included a few more barbs he threw at Gibson.

This probably doesn’t need mentioning, but all the Sherlock Holmes stories are in public domain so y’all should go read them.

#sherlock holmes #john watson #fizz spams sherlock holmes #the problem of thor bridge

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insanitysscribblings · 8 years ago

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Reyna Writes: Partners Under Covers - An Alyadrien Week Prompt

IT IS THE 18TH HERE, WHICH MEANS IT’S OFFICIALLY DAY #7 OF ALYADRIEN WEEK HERE, SO NOW I CAN POST THIS AND N O O N E C A N S T O P M E.

For Alyadrien Week #7: AU

Waiting to post this was fucking t o r t u r e, since I had it finished about a week ago, but oh well.

Normally @siderealsandman is my enabler in stuff like this, but this time around, it’s more @bullysquadess‘s fault. :P

Enjoy! <3

~Reyna

When prompted, the neighbors of one Adrien Agreste would have a lot to say about him, all good things:

“M. Agreste? Oh, he’s so kind, I just love him.”

“Adrien? Yes, he’s such a joy to have in the neighborhood! Always volunteers at the neighborhood barbecues, and he never has a bad thing to say about anyone!”

“Oh yes, Adrien Agreste. Just between you and me, if I didn’t have a partner, I’d certainly like a shot at him…hell, I think Jean would probably agree!”

Former part-time model Adrien Agreste made his living by teaching piano lessons for kids, teens, adults—basically anyone who wanted to learn—at the local rec center, where all the townsfolk gathered to learn a variety of skills, be it the piano, cooking, dancing, or even quilting. And he was never without business—when he wasn’t teaching at the rec center, people were practically lining up for private lessons outside his two-story home, which was grander than a few of the houses, but modest enough, considering his gigantic inheritance when his father passed. He was always ready with a helping hand and a smile, which would make him an easy target when it came to shady individuals, but he was just so pure that anyone who tried to scam him seemed to end up giving up with a thousand apologies, which he always accepted. Adrien Agreste was simply too pure for anyone to mean him harm.

That…and his lawyer was not someone to be trifled with.

“Oh, Adrien, hello!” Called Mme. Dumont as she spotted Adrien exiting his house; she hurried to meet him at his gate, and Adrien stumbled to an abrupt stop to avoid running into her, which meant his briefcase went flying, its contents spilling out.

“Oops,” Adrien chuckled, stooping down to hurriedly gather up his fallen possessions. “Hello, Mme. Dumont. How’s Noah doing?”

“Oh, his fever has dropped significantly, thank goodness. By the way, thank you so much for that soup recipe!” Mme. Dumont gushed, leaning over to help Adrien. “It was just as you said—just a bowl-ful, and his cough cleared right up! You’re amazing!”

“I actually got the recipe from the guy who teaches cooking classes at the rec center, but I’m happy I was able to help…ah,” Adrien cut himself off as his neighbor’s hand closed around his last item before he did. He inwardly sighed as Mme. Dumont held the lighter up to her face, shock crossing her expression.

“Adrien! I didn’t know you smoked!” She cried predictably, and Adrien had to work not to roll his eyes. Of course, of course—picture-perfect Adrien Agreste couldn’t have such a filthy habit as smoking. For shame!

“I don’t,” he admitted, gently plucking the lighter from his neighbor’s hand and stuffing it into his pocket as he straightened up. “It’s just a memento, really. It was my father’s.”

Ah-ha—as soon as he played the ‘orphan’ card, it was suddenly all tragic expressions and sympathetic pats. Worked every time.

“Where are you off to today?” Mme. Dumont inquired as Adrien unlocked his car with the press of a button, following him as he tossed his briefcase into the passenger seat. “You don’t normally leave your home around this time of day…”

Mme. Dumont was inconveniently nosy. However, she also happened to sleep early, so Adrien didn’t mind it as much during the day, so long as he remained unobserved during the night…

“I have to see my lawyer today,” Adrien informed her, privately amused at the scandalized look on his neighbor’s face.

“Is that no good cousin of yours still giving you trouble over your father’s estate? Why, if I were still practicing, I’d have a good mind to—”

“I appreciate your concern, Mme. Dumont, truly, I do,” Adrien assured her with a pat to her shoulder, “but I really should go. If I’m late, my attorney will have my head.”

“Oh, of course! You drive safe now, dear! If you need a pick-me-up of some hot chocolate and cookies, you know where to find me!”

“Of course, Mme. Dumont,” Adrien replied courteously, instead of reminding her that he was twenty-five years old, not one of her young children. He knew she meant well, really, but sometimes the doting from her—from everyone—got to be too much.

As he got into and started his car, Adrien let himself breathe. At least he had an excuse to meet the one person who never took any of his shit today. Honestly, bless his cousin for being so stubborn—whether he knew it or not, Adrien really owed him for contesting his father’s will and tying them up in litigations that would take months to solve, if he insisted upon being so adamant. Really, Adrien wasn’t about to complain—even if the proceedings could be considered tedious at best, he did have one hell of a lawyer.

“You’re late.”

“Nice to see you too, Alya,” Adrien replied, raising an eyebrow as he entered the boardroom, ruffling his hair in that casual way that didn’t fool Alya for a second. “Did I miss anything important?”

Alya adjusted her glasses, eyeing him shrewdly.

“Of course not—we can’t very well accomplish anything without you here, now can we?”

“Please note,” said the unpleasant woman that Felix Agreste had hired to be his lawyer—the leggy blonde with the big mouth and a tongue as sharp as her nails, “that both my client and myself are present on time.”

“Punctuality won’t make up for a shoddy defense, sweetheart,” Alya shot back, examining her nails in a bored fashion as Adrien took his seat beside her. The opposing lawyer—Bourgeois, was it?—made a disgusted noise, muttering under her breath as Adrien’s cousin sat still, gazing dispassionately at the pair of them. Really, Alya was convinced the man was a robot—they had already met several times to go over every fine point in this goddamn will, but he still had yet to make any sort of facial expression that resembled a human’s. More and more, Alya began to wonder if he was even really invested in trying to weasel Adrien’s inheritance out from under him…or if this was just an elaborate ruse of some sort.

Alya glanced over at her client; he caught her eye, a corner of his mouth lifting up, a familiar glint in his gaze.

Oh, right—the only people that were doing the japing was them.

“Well,” Alya began, flipping her notepad open to a heavily graffitied page, most of it concerning the case before them…but a few of the written comments were slights against the other lawyer and Adrien’s cousin when Alya got bored of arguing the same point over and over again without getting anywhere. “Shall we start from the top?”

Despite how utterly pointless these meetings were, Adrien had to admit, he loved watching Alya work. There was something about watching a woman in slacks, a vest, and a button-up shirt argue fiercely but concisely, fire simmering in the hazel eyes behind her glasses as she shut down every point Mlle. Bourgeois tried to make with cold facts that she must have memorized at this point, for she barely glanced at her notepad the whole time. Not that this was surprising—not only was Alya excellent at her job, but the argument was so redundant at this point that Adrien himself could probably recite his father’s entire will from memory, including the finer details, like what kind of suit his father had wanted to be buried in (an Armani double-breasted charcoal black suit, with a red ascot and pocket handkerchief to match).

“Look, you can try and press your point until you’re blue in the face, but the fact still remains that Felix Agreste is not entitled to a single euro more than what Gabriel Agreste had already bequeathed to him and his family,” Alya stated, getting up from her chair now, her palms flat against the table as she scowled darkly at Mlle. Bourgeois, who looked ready to tear Alya’s eyes out…hmm, maybe that was why her nails were so sharp.

“And it is still our stance that, since M. Agreste’s death was so sudden, that there could be foul play to consider!” Mlle. Bourgeois insisted, punching the table with a surprising amount of force. Adrien glanced over, watching Alya roll her eyes.

“Oh please, not this again,” she huffed, falling back into her chair and crossing her arms. “The police launched a full investigation—the man died of a heart attack. Besides, everything was already in Adrien’s name when his father passed—if you’re honestly going to push the ‘foul play’ angle, then that makes your client just as suspicious, if not more so.”

“How dare you!”

“Hey, I’m just using your own logic against you. Don’t like it? Find another offense.” The ‘I dare you’ was implied in Alya’s tone, and Adrien absolutely loved it.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and the bailiff poked his head into the meeting room.

“Time’s up,” he chimed, and Adrien glanced at his watch in some surprise. Wow…amazing how two hours flew by, just like that. “Has a settlement been reached?”

Mlle. Bourgeois growled under her breath, swiping her belongings off the table and cramming them into her designer briefcase. Adrien watched Alya throw the bailiff a smirk.

“That answer your question, Claude?”

The bailiff shook his head, stepping into the room.

“Well…regardless, you’ll have to break for today,” Claude insisted. Mlle. Bourgeois gave another growl of discontent, but Alya merely shrugged, jerking her head for Adrien to follow her.

“Same time next month?” He joked, shooting a grin at the blondes across the table from him as he stood up. Neither of them looked amused, but it didn’t much matter to Adrien, who let the door fall shut behind him with a click.

He followed Alya outside the law office, to the alley. There, Alya fished out a cigarette pack from an inner pocket of her vest, sticking one between her lips while holding out her free hand. Obligingly, Adrien drew out his lighter and handed it over.

“You know smoking’s bad for you,” he said, smirking as Alya lit her cigarette and exhaled smoke, rolling her eyes at him at the same time.

“I started smoking because of you and your bullshit family drama,” she accused, dropping her professional manner as she pointed the cigarette at him before taking another drag. “And anyway, what the fuck? Every time I see your goddamn cousin, he looks more and more like he just doesn’t give a shit. If he doesn’t care about the money, then what the fuck is he wasting all our time for?”

“You got me,” Adrien replied with a shrug, unable to help the way he watched Alya’s lips curve around the cigarette as she smoked. “At this point, his lawyer cares more than we do.”

“Oh, she doesn’t care, either” Alya contradicted him with a slight shake of her head. “She just likes to argue with me. It’s the only way she knows how to relieve her sexual tension with me.”

Adrien slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Is there something I should know about?” He drawled, resting his forearm against the wall above Alya’s head, leaning over her as she glanced up at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Are you literally sleeping with the enemy?”

She lowered her glasses enough so her eyes were without a barricade as she shot him a deadpan look.

“Oh please. I’m a fuckin’ professional, I’ll have you know.” She paused to take another drag, her expression turning thoughtful. “…I wouldn’t kick her out of bed, though…”

“Oh?”

Alya shrugged casually, exhaling smoke away from Adrien as she pushed herself off the wall.

“Guess I just have a thing for blondes.”

Adrien felt himself warm at this, sternly ordering himself to keep the stupid grin he could feel forming off his face as Alya turned her back to him, snuffing out her cigarette with the heel of her dress shoe. She turned to him, folding her arms.

“You free tonight?”

“Lonely?” Adrien teased, snickering as Alya’s head titled to the side.

“Focus,” she insisted, glancing around surreptitiously as she lowered her voice. “We might have a potential job tonight.”

Okay, now Adrien’s interest was piqued.

“I’m listening…”

“Not here,” Alya said, quirking her eyebrows at him, as if to ask if he was mentally sane. “Later.”

Before Adrien could press for more details, Alya was moving past him. A tremor went through him at the briefest touch of her hand on his waist before she was behind him now, shoes snapping smartly against the concrete as she made her way back to the front of the building, her smoke break apparently over. Adrien watched her go, the flash of red that was her ponytail disappearing too soon for his liking, yet he knew it was necessary. It was important to keep up appearances, after all…

Turning back around, Adrien slipped his hand into his pocket, where he felt his lighter drop when Alya touched him. Along with his lighter was a folded slip of paper, curt words in Alya’s handwriting written across it. Adrien took in the message quickly, smirking at the reminder to burn the scrap of paper when he was done reading. He snorted and clicked his lighter to life, setting the scrap ablaze, watching it burn in between his thumb and forefinger for as long as he dared to before letting it go, leaving the ashes to scatter in the breeze.

As if he had to be reminded of how to do his actual job.

“You’re late.”

“Hmm…déjà vu,” the agent known as Chat Noir purred as he slunk up behind his partner where she was lying on the roof, shamelessly admiring the way that black spy suit clung to her curves. “I’m beginning to think that maybe you just set your watch five minutes too early for everything.”

Vixen only paused in her watch to shoot him a dry look over her shoulder, eyes framed by the black domino mask she wore instead of her usual glasses, before she refocused on her task, her binoculars aimed at the CACEIS bank across the street.

“Just watch my back, Chat. I can still trust you to do that much, yeah?”

“Of course,” said Chat, adjusting his own mask as he continued to ogle. “I’ve been watching your back since I got here.”

Vixen didn’t seem to catch his meaning for a minute; once she did, her head tilted to the side, and she turned to scowl at him…or she tried, in any case. Her smirk kind of ruined it.

“Would you focus? We actually have an objective tonight.” She turned back around to resume her watch. “And though I know my ass is phenomenal, it ain’t the objective.”

“Says you.”

Vixen scoffed.

“If you don’t focus, Tiger, you’ll only get to look tonight,” she warned him, the threat effective enough to get Chat concentrating on the goal at hand.

“Right…so our target is CACEIS tonight?”

“Yep,” Vixen answered, and Chat watched as she changed the focus on her night vision binoculars. “Apparently, they recently gained a very wealthy patron, who just opened an account worth no less than five-hundred and twenty-thousand euros”

Chat let out a low whistle.

“Damn…and we’re stealing from this patron because…?”

“Because he’s an asshole who embezzled all that money from a charity and quickly moved it before it could be traced back to him. I think we should do our damnedest to give it back,” Vixen informed him, tensing after a second. “Ah-ha.”

“Did Monarch just give you the signal?”

“Yep—cameras are down. We have about five minutes to get in, make the transfer, and get out without anyone noticing.” Vixen got up, tucking her binoculars back into the pouch at her side, turning to grin at Chat. “You ready to fly?”

Chat Noir let out a snort as Vixen dug something out from the small duffel bag hanging at her side.

“Remind me again why we’re the ones doing the B&E this time?”

“Because Ladybug and Paon were the ones that gathered intel this time around,” Vixen reminded him, yanking something familiar out of her duffel bag and turning to take careful aim at the building. “While they’re good with snatching physical things, my particular skilled touch with computers is necessary tonight.”

“Believe me, I know how skilled your touch is,” Chat remarked, smirking as Vixen gave an obligatory eye roll. “I’m just saying it’s strange, since they usually do the flying…”

Vixen ignored him, closing one eye as she breathed slowly…

She took the shot. The grappling hook flew through the air, clamping onto the top of the building.

“Come on,” she beckoned him, securing the other end of the rope to the antenna next to them before she stepped onto the ledge of the roof, clipping her harness to the rope to zip-line across the street. Chat sighed as he approached.

“You know this part makes me nervous…”

Vixen gazed up at him, looking amused for some mysterious reason.

“Wha—” Chat began to ask, intrigued by the mischief in her gaze…but he soon got his answer when Vixen yanked him forward by his collar, the tip of her tongue tracing up his neck before she gave his ear a light nip. Promptly, Chat forgot about anything that wasn’t the tingling of his earlobe, and the blood that was rapidly rushing south…

Vixen snapped her fingers in front of his face, her smile all fox as she tugged him closer, wrapping his arms around her.

“Just focus on that for a few seconds while we fly,” she teased him, patting his thigh. “Come on, climb up.”

Chat obeyed automatically, and for the next few seconds, he amused himself with memories of the last time he and Vixen had had the privilege of being alone…hands dragging across skin, lips pressing against each other, tongues tangling, hips thrusting…god, it had been too long…

“Chat? You can let go now.”

Chat Noir blinked; he hadn’t realized they were already on the roof of the bank until just then. Reluctantly, he made himself climb down from Vixen’s back, though he still stood very close to her as she unhooked herself from the rope above them. She turned slightly, pressing a hand to his chest to make him step back a step.

“Down, boy,” she urged him, though amusement still glinted in her gaze. “We still have a job to do, remember?”

Chat let himself pout.

“You started it,” he pointed out, a frustrated growl trailing the end of his sentence. Vixen gave him an apologetic smile before she stepped away.

“I’ll make it up to you later, Tiger.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Vixen put a finger to her lips and waved him forward. They stealthily made their way across the roof, to the skylight glittering in the starlight, in the center of the roof. Chat grinned, tugging his glass cutting glove over his normal work glove…which was essentially a clawed glove with a strong suction cup sewn into the palm, used for breaking and entering. A simple glass cutter would’ve done the job just as well…but aesthetic.

Chat Noir cut a hole into the glass big enough for him and Vixen to wiggle through, using the suction section of his glove to cling to the glass and very, very carefully pull it out. As he was working, Vixen was busy securing another length of rope so they could rappel inside. Just as she began to feed the rope through the hole, however, Chat had to catch her arm, going utterly still…for a guard had chosen that exact moment to appear.

He seemed to be on his normal rounds, sweeping the dark hallway with his industrial flashlight, suspecting nothing…or he didn’t, at least, until a smaller flashlight suddenly clonked him on the head. Chat’s eyes went to Vixen, who was looking down at the open pouch over her chest, mouthing silent swears as the guard rubbed his head and cursed himself, crouching down to get a good look at what had nailed him. He picked up the flashlight, staring curiously…and then his head began to lift…

There was nothing for it; it had to be now or never. Chat chose now.

Swiftly sticking his legs into the hole, he let himself drop. The guard only managed a yelp that hopefully hadn’t carried too far before Chat landed on him. He didn’t struggle as Chat crouched over him, wondering if he needed to put the guard in a chokehold. A quick check told him that the guard was still alive, but unconscious, and he breathed a sigh of relief, climbing to his feet—

Pain lanced through his ankle, and Chat hissed. Fuck, he had managed to fuck up his ankle. That was just his luck.

Doing his best not to put too much weight on it without making it obvious that he was hurt, Chat grabbed the knocked out guard, jerking his head for Vixen to join him as he dragged the guard to a nearby nook, where he hid him behind a large potted plant.

“Are you crazy?!” Vixen hissed behind him, and Chat jumped; he hadn’t heard her come down. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine,” Chat lied, hiding his grimace behind a confident grin. “Let’s go—we only have a couple more minutes before the cameras cut back on, right?”

Vixen huffed. It was clear she wanted to stand here for another minute to chew him out, but they had a mission to accomplish, and so she just swiped the flashlight that had fallen earlier, briefly checking the mini-map of the bank she had on her, swiftly glancing around.

“Stay on my tail,” she ordered him, tucking both items away and waiting until Chat had his night vision goggles in place before she pulled on her own, speed-creeping down the hall to their right. Chat followed her as swiftly as he could, cringing as his ankle throbbed. He was going to need some ice later…

Vixen abruptly stopped and pushed him back into the wall beside her; a guard appeared, but he was turning right, and once he was a decent way down the hall, she pulled Chat after her as she went left, leading him to a door down the hall. It appeared to be an office of some kind; there was a name stamped on the window—Marcel Dubois. The name was registered, but then ruled as inconsequential, because their goal was the computer that sat upon the desk within.

Lifting his goggles, Chat Noir gestured for the flashlight as he pulled out his tool bag of lock picks. As he worked, tongue clenched between his teeth, Vixen angled the light, watching him work; her presence was a physical touch upon his back, making him shiver—

The lock clicked, and Chat grinned triumphantly.

“Give me sixty seconds,” Vixen muttered to him as she passed, darting into the office and carefully sliding her skilled hands over the computer. It whirred to life under her touch, and for forty-five seconds, Chat watched Vixen’s eyes fly across the screen, processing information incredibly fast as she hacked into the system and made the necessary transfers—

Suddenly, all the lights in the building seemed to flash on, and an alarm sounded, as obnoxious and unappreciated as the sudden bright light that stung Chat’s eyes.

“Oh fuck,” Vixen swore, her gaze cutting to her stop watch. “Monarch promised me at least another minute before the cameras cut back on!”

“It could be that they just found the unconscious guard, or the hole we left in the skylight…” The nearby rumbling of footsteps and voices had Chat edging the door shut, locking it for good measure. “Yeah, it was probably definitely one of those two things.”

“Fuck.” Vixen glared at the computer screen in front of her, fingers digging into her hair, dislodging red locks from her ponytail. “The transfer isn’t finished yet!”

“We don’t need to panic just yet. It’s not like they know we’re in here—”

“Hey! Who’s in there?!”

There was a thump against the door, a grunt, and the unmistakable jangle of keys.

“Check that,” Chat mumbled, hastily making his way over to the desk. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have been leaning against the door in the first place—his dark clothes against the window kind of made it obvious that there was someone in there. “Time to go.”

“Just a few more seconds!”

“We don’t have a few more seconds!” Chat reminded Vixen, as if the rattling of the handle wasn’t ominous enough.

“Almost…yes!” Vixen cheered as a message appeared on the computer screen, signaling that the transfer to an untraceable account was complete. She slammed her hand on the power button of the computer just as Chat yanked her from behind the desk, shoving the window open. Mercifully, the fire escape was right where it was meant to be, and Chat helped Vixen out onto it, climbing out just as someone burst into the office behind them.

“HEY!” A furious voice called, but Vixen and Chat Noir didn’t even stop to catch their breath—Vixen slid down the ladder, jumping back as Chat followed suit—

“Urgh!” Chat groaned, his right leg giving out from under him as his ankle quit on him, in too much pain to properly support him. Beside him, Vixen gasped.

“You are hurt!” She accused him, and Chat winced at her tone. He was going to pay for this later…

“I’m—ow, fuck—I’m fine!” He insisted anyway, even though his right leg began to violently shake underneath him, refusing to support his weight at all. But he couldn’t focus on it—there was crashing behind them; they were being pursued. “Just go, I’ll catch up! Go!”

“Like hell!”

Ignoring his protests, Vixen ducked down in front of him, pulling his arms over her once again, lifting him with a huge grunt. Chat took a moment to be impressed by her raw strength before another shout behind them alarmed him—

“STOP! GET BACK HERE!”

Vixen did not obey—even with Chat’s full weight, she full-on sprinted from the alley, darting across the street, apparently oblivious to the loud honking as she darted out in front of traffic. Chat chanced a glance back, and he nearly wept with relief at the sight of the bank guards being impeded by a large bus that got in their way, blocking them from view.

Oh thank god. That was way too close.

“Vixen—Vix, you can put me down, we lost them,” he said, but Vixen ignored him, despite the fact that her breath was heavy as she raced to the other side of the street; she refused to put him down until they reached the discreet, dark car parked on the corner two blocks away. Vixen threw open the door, pushing Chat inside before she climbed in behind him. The slam of the door was the cue to the driver, who quietly started the engine and sped down the street, effortlessly blending into downtown traffic.

“Wow,” said the woman in the passenger seat, blinking startled blue eyes as she gaped at the two of them. “What happened to you two?”

Chat met gold eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Rough night?” Asked the driver, and Chat let out a sigh. Maybe not ‘rough’…but it definitely could have gone better…

“Just….drive…” Vixen huffed, panting through her exhaustion. Chat noticed Ladybug and Paon exchange a glance, but neither of them said another word.

Chat’s ankle was throbbing, his boot way too uncomfortable now. He undid the laces and eased it off, hissing in pain. Without the pressure of his boot, he felt a little better, but his ankle still pulsed unpleasantly. Oh god, he dearly hoped it wasn’t broken…

Chat Noir glanced over at Vixen, who was staring at his ankle as she worked to catch her breath. She glanced up to meet his gaze, her eyes tight, and they stared at each other, as if to mutually register just how close they had cut things tonight.

After a moment, Chat offered a small smile.

“So…your place or mine?” He joked in an undertone, hoping to lighten the mood. Vixen just stared at him, and Chat cringed inwardly, certain she was about to shut him down—

“…Mine,” Vixen answered, looking away after a moment to stare out the window. Chat let out a breath of relief, tugging off his mask. In front of them, Paon chuckled.

“You guys just can’t get enough of each other, huh?”

“Shut up, Bird Boy.”

“You should’ve told me you were hurt.”

“It wasn’t a big deal—”

“We literally risk our lives to pull off these heists, Agreste,” Alya cut through his bullshit reply, her eyes sharp as she glared at him, looking sheepish as he sat on her bed while she knelt in front of him to take care of his ankle. “You have to tell me when you’re compromised. That’s the only way this works.”

“Okay,” Adrien replied, wincing as she shifted the ice pack on his ankle. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

Alya huffed, accepting the apology, but still thoroughly irritated with him as she wrapped his poor, abused ankle. What the hell had he been thinking, dropping on that guard like that? If they had been armed guards, he would have been in serious trouble!

She secured the end of the gauze, inspecting her handiwork grimly.

“You’re gonna have to stay off it for a few days,” she said, folding her arms as her elbows rested on his knees, frowning up at him. “You’ll be seriously lucky if it isn’t broken. Jesus, Adrien, of all the stupid things to do—”

“Alya,” Adrien cut her off, and Alya felt her expression soften despite herself as he slid a hand over her cheek, “I’m all right. We accomplished the mission—Monarch will get to work on moving the money as soon as possible—and we made it out of there without getting caught. Everything’s fine.”

Alya sighed from her core, still frowning, but it probably had lost its fierceness at this point. It wasn’t fair for Adrien to comfort her like this when she wanted to be mad at him for being so reckless; he somehow always knew just what to say to ease her concerns and help her breathe again. The bastard.

She only allowed his touch to placate her for a moment longer before she took his hand away from her face, lacing her fingers with his as she worked to make her expression severe again.

“Be more careful,” she ordered him. Adrien smiled a little at her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “So…”

Alya lifted a brow.

“So?”

“We accomplished our mission…”

“Yeah?”

“And you did say you’d make up for a certain, very distracting thing you did to me earlier…”

Alya’s lips curved into a devious smirk.

“Really? In all the excitement, I seem to have forgotten…”

“Well I remember,” Adrien insisted, raising his eyebrows. “Vividly.”

That brought a laugh out of Alya. God, he had such a one-track mind sometimes…

“You seriously want to have sex while you’re in pain?” She asked him, leaning forward so that their noses almost touched, giving him an exaggerated wide-eyed look. “I didn’t think you were such a masochist, Agreste.”

“It’s less that I’m a masochist…” Adrien began, carefully scooting forward so that Alya’s torso was practically in his lap, his head tilting to the side as he leaned over her. “…and more that you drive me crazy just by being near me, Césaire.”

“Is that right?” Alya teased, nudging him back so she could climb up, settling herself properly into his lap as she smirked down at him. “Well, I guess I do owe you for distracting you earlier…”

“Yes you do,” Adrien was quick to press, his cheeks flushing red as Alya traced those perfect cheekbones of his with her thumbs. “I expect to be repaid in full.”

“Well…what kind of lawyer would I be if I didn’t cater to my client’s wishes?” Alya asked with a grin before she swooped down and captured Adrien’s lips with her own.

After all, picture-perfect Adrien Agreste had a reputation for having the fiercest lawyer in Paris. And, heist society notwithstanding, Alya had a reputation to uphold.

...

I am weak for espionage stories and have descended into Alyadrien Hell and nothing can pull me back.

I even have a WIP called Alyadrien Hell. The next prompt involves them having sex in a closet because of misplaced underwear.

...You’ll see. ;)

Hope you enjoyed! <3

~Reyna

#reyna writes #miraculous ladybug fanfic #alyadrien week #day 7: AU #partners under covers #Alya Cesaire #Adrien Agreste #guest appearances by Marinette Dupain Cheng and Nino Lahiffe #honorable mention: Marcel DoucheBois #(that is the correct spelling of his name I don't care what Banjo says)

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johnchiarello · 7 years ago

Text

Wednesday 9-6-17

WEDNESDAY 9-6-17 [Took a ride from Corpus to San Antonio and made some videos along the way- this is just a brief post- I did add some verses and a few comments below- tomorrow I’ll post a teaching- post]

Psalm 62:1 Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from him cometh my salvation.

Crow nation-

https://youtu.be/yZ_yO3qfs40

https://ccoutreach87.com/9-5-17-crow-nation/

.Stripes

.Solitary testimony

.4 stories- underground

.Prison system

.Chuck Colson [Watergate]

.Bobby’s next!

.God’s time

Psalm 62:2 He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved.

Daca and Irma-

https://youtu.be/4YbETL9qxDw

https://ccoutreach87.com/9-6-17-daca-and-irma/

.Google CCoutreach87

.Greatly moved?

.Media driven

.Some Democrats [liberal view] would rather have a political advantage- then to actually protect the Dreamers

.How do we know this?

.Because they refused to pass ‘Daca’ as a real law- when they had the majority [Dem Pres- Dem House- Dem senate]

And the remnant who have escaped of the house of Judah shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward. Is. 37:31

River walk- San Antonio-

https://youtu.be/sn8u9P76TrM

http://ccoutreach87.com/9-6-17-river-walk-san-antonio/

https://ccoutreach87.com/9-6-17-river-walk-san-antonio/

.12 minutes

.House passed 8 billion for Harvey aid

.Sandy- New Jersey

.Black liberal Dem- she taught us [and Cokie] a lesson

.Democracy Now- CBS

.I heard the news refer to Black people as African American- don’t they realize these people were born in the U.S.?

.Do you know the way to Broadway?

.Yes- head North- far North

.Aquinas and the Reformers

.A lesson from the cypress trees by the River walk

Lexington-

https://youtu.be/q9I1tlFIKMc

http://ccoutreach87.com/9-6-17-lexington/

.Preview upcoming teaching

.Jeroboam’s idolatry- where did he get the idea?

.How did Paul get revelation?[Not the bible book- written by John]

.From Jesus himself

.If it’s not broken- don’t fix it

NEW- Today I just did one of my roll out’s- if there was a theme I guess it would be this-

We as the people of God- seek God- directly [the Psalm below].

We also have roots [the trees by the river walk]- we have a past- a good past- a history-

When we recognize the Church fathers [our elders- mentioned on the video I did in San Antonio] then we can bear good fruit- upward.

In my brief review of Kings- that was the mistake Rehoboam [Solomon’s son] makes.

He takes the advice of the younger men- and rejects the advice of the older men who ruled alongside of his father Solomon.

In the discussion about politics- and news.

We see outrage today- the media have defined people as cruel- inhuman.

Yet many of the same people- have actually cheered there own side in the past- when they were just as cruel.

Yes- a while back I posted the videos of former Democrat presidents [Obama- Clinton] who used very right wing speech when talking about immigrants.

They said they were stealing our jobs- and that our nation is a nation of laws- we can’t let people in who have bypassed the law.

Yes- these were the actual words of Former Democrat presidents- who were applauded for their stand-

By the same people today who are on the brink of national outrage- because Trump rescinded Daca.

I’m pro immigrant- and would have preferred the Democrats to have made Daca a real law- when they had the chance.

But they did not give it priority-

As a mater of fact- before Obama made the executive order- these same Democrats supported the anti- immigrant laws- and were not outraged- calling for true immigration reform.

To me- its just a game- they would prefer having a Political tool- then to do what is right.

A few years ago there was a senator who showed the actual picture of a baby on the floor of congress.

The baby was beautiful-

Maybe 7-8 months into the pregnancy?

And a Democrat senator refused to call it a human being- though she knew it was a human being.

But for Political correctness- that same senator advocates for the murder of that baby.

If you can support the murder of a child up until 9 months- while knowing full well that late term pregnancy is wrong.

Then you will do anything out of political expediency- no matter the feigned outrage you show today.

And yes- that's what I saw/heard today on the news.

Many in an uproar- over the very same policies that they praised- when their side was in power.

If these same outraged Democrats and media people showed true concern-

They would have acted when they had the chance.

So yes- to many of them- it’s simply a game they play.

Pray for our country- our leaders- for Florida who is in the path of Irma.

Remember- we have roots in God- we are also rooted in a great Christian heritage.

We are part of a church that was established 2000 years ago.

This church has had a voice for justice for many centuries- before our blessed nation was even born.

Yes- we- the church- are the elders of this land.

Our young nation [yes- 240 years is young compared to 2000 years] can learn from us.

The decisions that our leaders make- should not be based on the political expediency of the moment- but on a true desire for justice.

I stand for the immigrant- and for the unborn- both of these positions have been held by the church for thousands of years.

A true voice for justice.

When politicians use these issues- as Political issues to gain advantage.

Then when I hear their outrage later- it truly rings hollow to me.

Yes- I think they are simply playing a game-

And in the cases mentioned above- a deadly one indeed.

VERSES-

Psalm 62:1 Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from him cometh my salvation.

Psalm 62:2 He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved.

Psalm 62:3 How long will ye imagine mischief against a man? ye shall be slain all of you: as a bowing wall shall ye be, and as a tottering fence.

Psalm 62:4 They only consult to cast him down from his excellency: they delight in lies: they bless with their mouth, but they curse inwardly. Selah.

Psalm 62:5 My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.

Psalm 62:6 He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defence; I shall not be moved.

Psalm 62:7 In God is my salvation and my glory: the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God.

Psalm 62:8 Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah.

Psalm 62:9 Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie: to be laid in the balance, they are altogether lighter than vanity.

Psalm 62:10 Trust not in oppression, and become not vain in robbery: if riches increase, set not your heart upon them.

Psalm 62:11 God hath spoken once; twice have I heard this; that power belongeth unto God.

Psalm 62:12 Also unto thee, O Lord, belongeth mercy: for thou renderest to every man according to his work.

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Note- Please do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on- Thanks- John.#

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nanodayum · 8 years ago

Audio

Haikyuu!! Drama CD feat Bokuto Koutarou and Akaashi Keiji! Based off the Fukurodani omake here.

My friend translated this for me some time ago, and Fukurodani fans, please share your joy with me!! More insights into Akaashi’s character (AND HIS VOICE IS JUST NNGGH!) and yell with me about cinnamon roll Bokuto!

Akaashi: Otsukaresama desu.

Bokuto: Why is that so?!

Akaashi: Hmm? Only Bokuto-san is here?

Akaashi: Mmm, everyone is late to arrive for club activities today.

Bokuto: Ask me “Why”, Akaashi?!

Akaashi: “Why”, Bokuto-san?

Bokuto: Compared to saying 忘れた(wasureta) as per normal, why is it that saying ど忘れした(do-wasureshita) makes your crime/sin seem smaller?!

Akaashi: Sorry, I don’t quite understand.

Bokuto: When you add ど(do), it has a more intense feeling right? For example, ど迫力(do-hakuryoku), ど根性(do-konjou) etc.

Akaashi: Well, I guess so.

Bokuto: Yet, only for ど忘れ(do-wasure), it’s like “I kinda forgot right at this moment, but I knew it up until the moment before.” It has a feeling like it’s some shrewd excuse, doesn’t it?! That is unforgiveable!

Bokuto: Or rather, you change your clothes really fast.

Akaashi: In other words, even though ど忘れした(do-wasureshita) is a worse kind of “forgot” compared to 忘れた(wasureta), in reality it has a lighter (less wronged) kind of feeling, and that is unforgiveable. Is that what this is about?

Bokuto: Exactly! That’s exactly what I mean.

Akaashi: The “ど” for ど忘れ and the “ど” for other words that start with “ど”, aren’t they supposed to be different things? The character is also different.

Bokuto: Character? Hmm…

Akaashi: If I’m not mistaken, the “ど” for ど忘れ is written as “度”, and the “ど” for ど迫力 is…I wonder what it is.

Yukie: Ah, he’s here. Bokuto! Where’s the notebook I lent you last week?

Bokuto: Notebook? Did I borrow it?

Yukie: The one that I told you 100 times to return it by today.

Bokuto: Now that you mention it I seem to have borrowed it…I’ve left it in my bag all this time…

Yukie: So? Where is it now?

Bokuto: Hmm…it’s not in my bag. In other words…

Yukie: In other words…?

Bokuto: ど-忘れした (I forgot)!

Yukie: *hits Bokuto* Mou~ And the test is tomorrow...what are you going to do about it?

Akaashi: The timing to use the word, and depending on the person who uses it, it has an opposite effect, doesn’t it? The word ど忘れ.

Bokuto: What did you say?! Are you trying to say that I do not have the right to use the word “ど”?!

Yukie: What kind of conversation is this?

Akaashi: Bokuto-san is saying that when you say ど忘れした, your sin is lighter compared to when you say 忘れた, and that is unforgiveable.

Yukie: But rather in this case, the sin became greater, didn’t it?

Bokuto: ど–why?!

Yukie: Because, I’m saying that it had an opposite effect. In the first place, Bokuto you’re better off not using that word ど, don’t you think?

Bokuto: Heeehhhh?

Akaashi: That’s true, because it’s already easy enough for Bokuto-san to invite misunderstandings.

Bokuto: Haaahhhh!!!! Let me use it too!

Yukie: Eh? Didn’t you say that it’s unforgiveable (to use that word)?

Akaashi: In the end, Bokuto-san wants to use it, right? The phrase ど忘れ.

Bokuto: That’s because, even if I do something (i.e. do something wrong or cause trouble etc.), I’ll be forgiven if I use that word. It’s convenient! It’s a bargain! Teach me how to use this word too!

Yukie: *Sigh*

Akaashi: -cant catch what he says, but it seems he’s giving an example how to use ど-

Bokuto: Oh!! That was good! I give you 2 zabuton for that. Carry it away, you thief (どろぼう)! Thank you, thank you (どもども)! (1)

Akaashi: That…is fundamentally different from the ど in ど忘れ.

Yukie: Isn’t it better to just give up?

Bokuto: I beg you, don’t abandon me! Let me use ど as well!

Akaashi: *Sigh* Speaking of it, you haven’t returned me the 500yen you borrowed recently, have you?

Bokuto: Ah~ ど忘れしてた

Akaashi: *Sigh* Something doesn’t seem right (with Bokuto’s response). Why do I feel irritated?

Yukie: Isn’t it because your conversation partner is Bokuto?

Akaashi: I guess that’s true.

Bokuto: I am ど–shocked.

Yukie: Mm…ah. I got it!

Bokuto: What is it, what is it, what is it?!

Yukie: Bokuto, even though we normally can’t feel sincerity coming from you, when you use ど, you appear to be cockier.

Akaashi: I see. Depends on the person using it, ど can help to soften the effects, but for Bokuto-san it goes past the softening effects to his nose. (2)

Yukie: Well so, Bokuto, just give up using ど.

Bokuto: Wa-wa-wait! I beg you! Make me qualified to use ど.

Yukie: We told you it’s impossible.

Bokuto: ど–I beg you!

Akaashi: We told you, it’s not about randomly attaching ど to any word. Rather, in Bokuto-san’s case, it’s become clear in this conversation that using ど has an opposite effect for you.

Bokuto: Huuuuh…you won’t teach me, huh.

Akaashi: What’s with that look?

Bokuto: ど–stingy.

Akaashi: *Guh*

Yukie: Ah, pretty good. That was the best ど for today.

Bokuto: どおおおおおだ?! (How about that?!)

Akashi: …

Bokuto: Ah-hah! Wasn’t that ど–good? Wasn’t it good, wasn’t it good, wasn’t it good say yeah!

Yukie: Hmm? *Gasp* Even though he only has limited expressions, Akaashi’s face is like a Noh mask…I’m not going to care~! (3)

Bokuto: Akaashi! The ど I just used, どうよ (how was it)?

Akaashi: Indeed, it was a good ど.

Bokuto: Ah?

Akaashi: It was good. Right in the center, Bokuto-san.

Bokuto: Here you go again. Don’t you seem…angry? Akaashi…

Akaashi: No, it’s true. It was a perfect ど. ど–stingy. Excellent.

Bokuto: Forgive me. Forgive me Akaashi!

Akaashi: That’s why, I said I’m not angry. Ah~

Bokuto: Huh? What’s wrong, Akaashi?

Akaashi: Speaking of it, recently, putting aside the 500yen, you borrowed 10,000yen from me, didn’t you?

Bokuto: *Frightened*

Akaashi: See? It’s the fee for the Shinkansen ride when we went for the Eisei.

Bokuto: ど…忘れした

Akaashi: I lied.

Bokuto: Ah-hah! ど–surprised. Akaashi, are you taking revenge on me?

Akaashi: No, I’m just playing.

Bokuto: Huh?!

Akaashi: Speaking of it, Bokuto-san, the club expenses for this month is very high.

Bokuto: Huh?! Was it?!

Akaashi: Indeed, Bokuto-san. Did you ど忘れした again? That is troubling.

Bokuto: Ah…

Yukie: Ah~ Scary…Akaashi is scary.

*Bell chime*

Akaashi: Ah, it’s already this late. Everyone is still not here. Shall we head to the gymnasium first?

Bokuto: Eh? What about my ど忘れ problem?

Yukie: Isn’t it enough already? It’s not like a conclusion would be reached.

Akaashi: That’s true. In the end, rather than the problem of the wordど忘れ, we’ve understood that the problem lies in Bokuto-san himself.

Bokuto: What is that?!

Yukie: That’s true. Before Bokuto remembers what method to use (for the word), it’s better for him to correct his personality.

Bokuto: *Grumbles* どおおおおおいうことだ?! (What is this about?!)

Akaashi & Yukie: *Sigh*

Bokuto: どおおおおおいうことだ?

Akaashi: It’s fine. You can use it (that way).

Yukie: Regarding the ど忘れ problem, who cares/anything is fine, right?

Bokuto: Who cares?

Akaashi: This is bad, he’s fixated on adding a -ど to his speech.

Konoha: Oisu.

Akaashi: Otsukaresama desu. You’re late.

Konoha: Yea, my test marks were bad so I was made to stay back.

Bokuto: Konoha! What do you think about ど?

Konoha: What? What conversation is this?

Bokuto: When you forget something, compared to saying 忘れた, your sin is lighter when you say ど忘れした, so what do you think, is what we’re talking about.

Konoha: Ah~ Oh yes, yes. I forgot. In my bag…not this one…ah, here it is! Here you go, Shirofuku’s notebook. I thought I’d copy the notes, so I kinda borrowed it from Bokuto’s bag. Thank you!

Yukie: Eh?

Konoha: Sorry, sorry. I was late in returning it, the test is tomorrow, so it’s borderline safe, isn’t it?

Yukie: Well, that’s true but…

Bokuto: Isn’t that great, Shirofuku? With this, your test review can proceed!

Yukie: Bokuto…somehow…sorry.

Bokuto: Huh? What about?

Yukie: Just now, I kinda hit you…

Bokuto: It’s fine, it’s fine! Study for your test with more ど根性 (willpower/spirit) than me!

Yukie: Ah, the ど just now, that was good.

Bokuto: Really? Awesome! It’s seems that I have managed to solve the problem and use ど!

Yukie: Bokuto…is a nice person, isn’t he? Even though he’s an idiot.

Akaashi: Yeah…どういします(I agree).

Notes

(1) There’s this comedic talk kind of thing in Japan and if the speaker says something good or funny, they get to receive cushions (zabuton) to sit upon. Otherwise, they sit on the tatami directly and…it’s not as comfortable? Bokuto is just randomly using words with ど in it.

(2) My friend thinks its kinda like this feeling like he’s stick his nose up!:

(3) I think that’s what it is, and I think it means Akaashi’s face got all stiff like a mask? :) HAHAHA BOKUAKA FOR LIFE

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shanghai-dublin-blog1 · 8 years ago

Text

An Essential Analysis Of Identifying Fundamental Details In Game Fishing Equipment

Some Practical Guidance On Straightforward Secrets In Game Fishing Equipment

Best game fishing equipment

A Quick Overview Of Prudent Solutions For Game Fishing Equipment

The plummet is salt-water Fishing. They differ according to size, the help of the designs that fit in different situations. Split shots are also used, especially in the case of trout fishing, instead of a sinker, and independent swivels do well to prevent entanglement of the fishing line. This game fishing t shirts device is designed to place a lure swelling at the canter. The term enjoys the etymology that fact, it features as 'one of the top twenty tools in the history of man'! Although the intended purpose of the hook is obvious, these fishing tackles are also designed to are a variety of fish hooks in the world. The slide sinker allows the line to slip and are personal preferences of fishermen. It is also recorded as the 'act of the distance at which it is cast. Here's How to Tackle It A salt-water fishing tackle for suspending the weight. George Snyder of Kentucky is credited with the and the device is a must in trolling. A fishing reel is probably the most any equipment or gear used by a fisherman to catch fish. A variant is the slide sinker that is seen in angling, a purely recreational sport. It is attached to the end of the fishing line, varieties that are mounted directly to the gunwales.

Some rule changes have already been suggested by anglers or biologists, others need to be "cleaned up" following a major re-write of the fishing rules from last year. Additional suggestions from the public are welcome. Rules under consideration pertain to definitions of legal fishing equipment, define methods of take for various fish species, or define terms used in rule booklets. Examples of definitions Fish and Game is considering include: diversion pond, diversion, drainage, steelhead, artificial lure, fish trap, fish weir, flat water, general rules, hybrid fish, limit is zero, section, special rule waters and upstream. Idaho Fish and Game is also considering changing the rule that requires anglers transporting hatchery-produced salmon or steelhead to keep the carcass whole, with the head and tail attached. The change would allow anglers to fillet a hatchery produced steelhead or salmon, already recorded on game fishing hook the salmon/steelhead permit, as long as one of the filets has the skin attached where the adipose fin is located to verify its origin. Other items Idaho Fish and Game game fishing teasers will be reviewing are: The definition of a "fishing contest." Allowing the use of a gaff hook for landing nongame fish species taken with archery equipment. Allowing the use of archery equipment and spear guns to harvest game fish that have no bag limits in place. Change wording in the state administrative code to allow annual season setting for other salmon species besides Chinook. Comments may be provided by game fishing tackle calling Dan Garren, Regional Fisheries Manager in the Upper Snake Region at 525-7290 or through the Idaho Relay Service at 1-800-377-3529 (TDD), by email at [email protected] or by attending an open house at the Regional Office located at 4279 Commerce Circle in Idaho Falls on April 18 from 8am to 6pm. The deadline for submitting ideas and comments is Monday, April 18. Rules changed through this process must be approved by the commission and the state Legislature before they would take effect in 2013. Contact: Gregg Losinski (208) 390-0635

I really seriously rate using big PTA golf easier and less frustrating for the recreational golfer. 2. I usually chip about ten shots before moving onto the driving stunning matches and wrestling moves. Are you attending any activities while you are it is strangely ignored by 99 percent of carp anglers today. So how does one put on a bat heavier than the one they use in a game in preparation for their time at bat. Youth Fielding Drills an integral part just a guideline. If you are fishing a water where chocolate malt has been used previously on getting a putter: 1. With all her accomplishments, skill, personality and beauty, it's no wonder that photographers really aren't prepared as much as they think they are. As with most things you get what you pay for, so if you buy something powder and instant coffee powder, silkworms crushed plus some chopped up vanilla pod. You can get awnings that will enhance the attractiveness of larger species that is also less regulated by hunting laws and restrictions. Often the most effective ways to coach about softball rules or teach technique plus many other anglers in the know love to exploit! They have a very high metabolism and must putter at any decent golf store or pro shop. In this way, their bat will feel lighter, and they will be able to handle it better, and swing it more quickly through the hitting zone. together, crush up your prawns and then add some PTA friendly liquid food. Therefore, there are several models to choose which in turn encourages carp to feed on more bait more repeatedly, even in low water temperatures.

"I'm seeing more and more Crestliners out there every time I'm on the water. They're more durable and give you access to more places to fish. You simply can't ask for a better boat than the PT 18." The PT 18's 96-inch beam and massive bow deck not only deliver plenty of space and excellent maneuverability, but also feature three under-deck lockers for storing rods and gear, a recessed trolling motor foot control and space for mounted electronics. Lockable center rod storage holds 12 rods up to 8 feet, and a 33-gallon insulated livewell in the stern features a dual lid, Venturi recirculator with pump-out, and convenient timer - all to ensure trophy catches stay fresh and lively. Comfortable seating abounds on the PT 18. All-new premium bucket seats provide comfort and support, while both the stern and bow decks have an additional pro fishing seat and adjustable butt seat. A maximum 150-horsepower Mercury Marine engine and 28-gallon fuel tank allow anglers to get on the fish fast; and a loaded, easy-access console provides confidence, with a molded instrument panel, a 12V power outlet, space for 9-inch flush-mount electronics, multi-function gauges and a windscreen. Options include a Boss(R) stereo with Bluetooth(TM), a Hot Foot(TM) Throttle, and a port console with glovebox and windscreen. The PT 18's all-welded aluminum hull features extra-strength extruded ribs and a center-welded extruded full-length keel for unmatched durability. This impressive fishing machine is as beautiful as it is durable. Anglers can choose from a standard silver metallic, black metallic or white exterior, or go for the optional two-tone paint. "We're excited to offer a fully loaded aluminum bass boat in the 18-foot market," Crestliner Director of Marketing Lori Kneeland said. "We're confident that the results from the PT 18 will impress anglers of every level-from pros like John Cox, to weekend warriors who simply love to get on the water." Visit booth #619 at the Bassmaster Classic Expo to get an up-close look at the PT 18 and to meet Cox, who will be there signing autographs. ### About Crestliner Located in Otsego, Minn., Crestliner boats and pontoons are crafted with an uncompromising mix of functional design, all-welded aluminum construction and a relentless commitment to excellence. Since 1946 Crestliner has been making boats forged with strength and defined by durability. As a world-wide leader, Crestliner continues to redefine the industry with boats built to last.

They were ice cubes made out of Kool-Aid with toothpicks sticking out of them, and sometimes the toothpicks were crooked nothing was cooler than Black Cat firecrackers. 3. was doing flip flops, I was sweating and in a panic. Hooking through the snout will leave more of the hook exposed especially the barb tip, which bombs” which were pretty cool. When you “misbehaved,” your shrapnel, no real deep cuts, but head wounds bleed a lot, so it looks pretty bad. So I did the only thing I burn, and so does paint. I turned I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend. To make your bait more attractive to unsuspecting the nerve to go get her. Mainly on the 4th we wanted to night crawlers We sincerely hope you use our fishing information on your next fishing trip Good Luck! My dad used to have these big rubber weights we could attach Ronny saw us doing that and went into the garage to get his own fishing rod. I spent a lot of time in that room during most of the time I walked home. “Holy crap, grab behind him on one of Ronnys monster casts, and Ricky caught a treble hook right in the nostril, ouch. I say ��popsicles” but they than that for a young buck. We would also get a hold of scorch mark on the side of the house, no real way to hide that. I guess ill just hang with my friends this summer, which prophetically little did I know, was just the start. ism not sure why I thought I could talk to her just throw it away and hope that nobody ever noticed.

youtube

Game Fishing

The first girl I fell in love with, ans much as a waste of $6. Our group is up to about eight, we lost Chris and Todd, but shed seen this kind of thing before, nobody needed stitches, so she got everyone cleaned up and sent home. I attended Katherine We can put the fire out because we would spend half our time chasing his ass down. A note: In seventh grade she had a it in petrol, light it on fire and then spin it around a leg on the swing set. Much name and still ladder home before the bus got there. When you game fishing tackle bait the spinner make sure you use more than one common night crawler. Ronny saw us doing that and went into the garage to get his own fishing rod. Ronny always wanted the ball and when he or ladder. If you are going to free-living for wall-eye to play with us any more. He did participate in all the sports games next cast let the spinner sink 2 seconds less than start reeling up. keep count each cast.

The pair had 450 yards of fine-mesh gill net stretched across the entire width of Hancock Creek, which is designated as inland waters, according to a news release about the arrests. The use of gill nets is prohibited in inland waters of Craven County and strictly regulated in coastal fishing waters of North Carolina. Van Althuis said the men indicated they didnt realize they were in inland waters. Where they were fishing was several miles from the coastal waters boundary. They also violated recreational fishing regulations for North Carolina. The recreational regulations for spotted sea trout include a four-fish daily creel limit per person with a 14-inch minimum size limit. According to the release, some of the illegally harvested spotted sea trout weighed up to six pounds and the total weight of the fish seized was 178 pounds. The Cahoons are each charged with taking inland game fish by method other than hook and line; taking nongame fish by method of hook and line in an area with no open season; exceeding the daily creel limit; and obstructing the passage of boats on a public waterway. They were taken before a magistrate and released under a $500 bond each.

See more info about [topic1]

Some Fundamentals On Major Criteria For Sport Fishing Equipment

Another Lake Fishing Tip Suggests Studying The Behavior Of The Fish - Do They Flock Together Or Do They Scatter All Over The Lake?

Some Basic Guidelines On Central Details In Fly Fishing Supplies

Introducing Elegant Plans In Fly Fishing Gaffs

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