BREAKING: Campaign for French presidential candidate Macron says it is a victim Friday of a "massive and coordinated" hacking and release of emails and documents; leak comes ahead of this weekend's presidential election.
I just realized I have to order my Easter Vigil dress and my Easter rosary pretty much this week so that they both get here on time (I doubt the rosary will, but I’ll try anyway.) Between that and the Rite of Election this past weekend, it’s starting to sink in that this is actually going to happen. I’m actually going to receive Jesus in a few short weeks. This is so amazing and crazy and scary and…AAAAAA. I’m feeling every possible emotion right now.
Understand that you can’t control God. God wasn’t nominated, He wasn’t appointed, He wasn’t elected; so He can’t be impeached and He will not be voted out of office. His reign is universal and His term is eternal. His platform has been predestined and His agenda is inevitable. God cannot be controlled and God cannot be labeled, He’s too big for that; so God’s not a Capitalist and He’s not a Socialist, and God’s not a Democrat and He’s not a Republican. Nobody gets to claim that. Everybody wants to say, ‘God’s on our side, God’s on our side.” God’s not on your side. You want to know whose side God is on? God is on God’s side. He is on His side and He doesn’t need us to make Him famous. He doesn’t need us to convince people that He’s creative and cool and somehow relevant. He’s God. You can’t control Him. You can’t label Him. You can’t confine Him. He sits enthroned in Heaven so you can’t restrain His will. You can’t restrict His power. You can’t limit his jurisdiction, the earth is his footstool. You can’t surprise God or catch him off guard or shock Him. After an election God has never said, ‘I didn’t see that coming.’ God has never said those words. After a Supreme Court decision God has never turned to the Holy Spirit and said, ‘What are we going to do? What are we going to do now?’ God does not work that way. God’s decisions do not get overturned. His Word is never overruled. He is above all. He is through all. He is in all. He is all-present. He is all-knowing. He is all-powerful. God moves kings and queens and entire nations like pawns on a chess board. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. He is our Father.
Trump may have a point. It does seem like virtually every media outlet is doing everything in their power to prevent a Trump presidency. The media is acting like the sober girls at a bar making sure the country doesn’t go home with that scuzzy orange dude. They’re like ‘America no, get in the car. We’re going home with Hillary.’ And Trump is like ‘Stop hatin’. Let her decide for herself.’
@ tes "c'est pas facile de voter de l'étranger" peeps, I am French, living in Munich, and it literally took me 10 minutes to sign up to vote by proxy. And I do not have a job that qualifies me as a demi-god in the eyes of society nor the accompanying salary that would allow me to fly back and forth any time I want to sign up. Griezmann has no excuse. "I didn't have the time" is no excuse and is a LOUSY example for his young fans.
He literally said a few minutes earlier that he was just in France for the day and that he had arrived in the morning and would fly back in the evening so he can’t pretend that it’s impossible.
100% agree with everything you said. And in addition to that, the elections are over 2 weekends. If he had genuinely missed the first round, he could have signed up to vote by proxy for the second round.
Request: Can I just get some really really fluffy lesbian Eliza?? I need that in my life honestly. Ant length you want to write is good.
Pairing: Eliza x reader
Warnings: none it’s legit just fluff (I guess warning for kissing just in case though)
Word Count: 1,255
A/N: There’s never enough Eliza fluff out there so here is my contribution… it’s also the longest fic I’ve ever written on here so there’s that
Most couples you knew were spending their long weekend on trips together- either to see something new after weeks of studying or to visit parents. You and Eliza, however, had elected to spend the weekend at home, catching up on all the dates and alone time you’d missed out on over the last few weeks.
You woke up late and content from just the right amount of sleep. Eliza was curled up at your side, head resting on your shoulder. You smiled and turned your head just enough to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Morning ‘liza,” you said softly. She yawned in response, sleepily opening her eyes.
“Morning, Y/N.” Eliza stretched a little, then snuggled up to your side. “We don’t have to get up today,” she whispered, sounding almost giddy with the possibility of a free day.
The covers had slipped away from you both during the night, and you paused to tug them up so they covered you both again. You reached for Eliza’s hand and took it, intertwining your fingers. “We could have breakfast in bed?” you suggested, “There’s eggs and flour and milk- I could make pancakes.”
Eliza sighed happily and shuffled up the bed so she could kiss you. It was languid and slow, nothing like the rushed kisses you’d shared every morning for the last few weeks.
Reluctantly, you let go of her hand and slid out of bed. It wasn’t cold in the apartment, but the bed had been so much warmer, so you grabbed a blanket to wrap around your shoulders as you gathered the ingredients and a couple of plates.
You were just pouring the first bit of mix into the frying pan when you heard Eliza’s footsteps, muffled by the bedroom carpet. A moment later, as you flipped the first pancake, you felt her slip her arms around your waist.
You leaned back into her touch, smiling. She kissed her way down your neck, making you moan a little. She nipped at your ear. “Pancakes, Y/N,” she reminded you.
“Oops-” Luckily it hadn’t burned, but you could tell it had been close. You set it on a plate and got going on the next few. “Can you get the maple syrup and the sugar out?” you asked Eliza as you started to scrape up the next one.
When the last pancake was safely out of the frying pan and you had turned the heat off, Eliza divided the pancakes between the two of you. You grabbed the coffee she had made while you had made the pancakes and followed her back to bed.
“They’re better with maple syrup,” Eliza argued, pushing her pancake into the puddle of syrup on her plate.
“Nope,” you insisted, “better with sugar.”
“Try some!” she said, spearing a bit with her fork. “Open up!”
You laughed, but opened your mouth anyway. She raised her fork and you took the bite. You chewed for a moment. “It’s lovely,” you admitted, “but not as sweet as you-”
Eliza blushed. “Not as sweet are you, you mean.”
You pretended to consider it. “Nope.” You took another bite of your own pancakes, “not even actual sugar is sweeter than you, my cinnamon roll.”
Giggling, Eliza reached over and took a chunk of your pancakes. “We could go out for a walk this afternoon,” she said through her mouthful. “There’s a lake I know-”
You picked her plate up off her lap and slid it on top of yours. “You and I can go-” you suggested as you got up to take them to the kitchen, “we could take a picnic, stay until the night gets dark and watch the stars…”
Eliza flopped back into the bed, gazing at the ceiling as though it were the night sky. “Perfect.”
Once you had both got dressed and packed a picnic for dinner, you popped round the corner and got hot drinks at your favourite coffee shop. Then, when the clock started to tick towards the evening, the two of you hopped into the car that Eliza had got for her eighteenth birthday and drove out into the countryside.
You left the car in a roadside dirt carpark and walked out into the woods. It was quiet but for the occasional birdsong. The two of you held hands and chatted about your plans for the summer.
“Are we here?” you asked as you came out by the lakeside.
Eliza nodded and pointed over to a large oak tree. “We could sit under that,” she suggested and tugged you over. “Did you bring the picnic blanket?”
You spread the blanket out on a patch of grass and, having sat down on it, began to unpack your bags. You were pretty sure you had everything- dinner, blankets, plenty of water, and even a couple of cushions.
No sooner had you unpacked the cushions than Eliza nabbed one and put it on your lap and lay down on it. “Hi,” she smiled up at you.
The sky was getting dusky and the sun had already gone down. You pulled out the sandwiches you’d made, along with some crisps and some grapes. Eliza shifted so she was leaning back against the tree.
When the sandwiches were gone, you shared out the crisps and followed them up with a game of ‘catch the grape’- Eliza was infinitely better at it than you were. “It’s not that hard, Y/N,” she laughed after the fourth grape hit you on the nose.
“Maybe if you would throw it properly-”
She picked up another grape and shuffled a little closer to you. “Open up,” she commanded, and you let your mouth fall open. Eliza leaned in and popped it gently into your mouth. “There.”
You stuck your tongue out at her, but ate the grape anyway. Leaning back against the tree, you noticed that the stars had started to come out. “Eliza!” you said in a hushed voice, “look!”
She leaned back against the tree at your side. You couldn’t have been that far out of the city, but the sky was so much clearer. You spotted a familiar W shape and pointed to it. “There’s Cassiopeia!”
Eliza got up, pulling you with her. The two of you stepped out from underneath the shade of the tree and craned your head back. “Lyra,” Eliza breathed, pointing up at her favourite constellation.
You looked around, hoping to see Orion or the big dipper. Instead, you saw a meteor streak overhead, making both of you gasp. You grabbed Eliza’s hand and kept looking.
“They say you can wish on a shooting star, don’t they?” Eliza asked softly.
“Yes-” you replied as a second one streaked overhead, this time tinged blue.
The air was getting colder. You bent down and picked up a spare blanket from your bag. Carefully, you draped it around Eliza’s shoulders before slipping under it with her. Eliza broke the moment’s silence: “What would you wish for?”
You considered it, then rested your head on her shoulder. “More days like today- more days with you.”
A moment later you felt Eliza’s hand on your cheek, gently lifting your head so she could kiss you. You smiled into it, sliding one hand up to rest on her neck while the other still held her hand.
“Let’s both wish for it,” Eliza whispered as she pulled away. Pulling the blanket tighter, you both watched for the next meteor. It came a moment later.
You squeezed Eliza’s hand, closed your eyes, and wished.
So I know I’ve been spamming about the election this weekend.. That’s because Monday the 22nd is the last day to register to vote and I’m worried about what will happen if the Conservatives stay in power.
I’m worried about the return of grammar schools. I’m worried about the way social care is being handled (May’s policies on elder care are not good at all, if you get care in your home, which is cheaper fro the government, you are then taxed on your home. Or rather, your grieving family is then taxed on your home when you die.) I’m worried about people with disabilities, who are being declared fit for work and are then dying. I’m worried about refugees and immigrants being barred from our country which will hurt our economy and leave vulnerable people in danger. I’m worried about the NHS. I’m worried about government control of the internet. I’m worried about how May can negotiate Brexit when she’s getting into arguments with EU representatives and lying about it.
I’m worried about the left vote being split. I’m worried people will vote for the Lib Dems despite their untrustworthy past. They betrayed everything they stood for for power when they entered the coalition with the conservatives. “But they had a different leader then, they’ve changed!” Maybe, but their new leader can’t seem to decided if my sexuality is a sin or not (LGBT+ people beware, he made sure he was absent for votes on gay marriage etc). He is also anti-abortion. The lib dems are not doing well in the polls, so please consider tactical voting to oust the tories.
I’m worried about Labour back benchers who organise coups and call policies that are traditional labour, leftist policies old fashioned and crazy. (Labour has been slowly moving right, trying to win centrist and middle right votes, but that has just left them in a muddle and so far from their core, it’s ridiculous.) I’m worried that Corbyn might not be able to control them.
Honestly, I would probably be tempted to vote Green, but they don’t run in my area. Hell, I would vote SNP if I could, but they only run north of the wall. As it is, I am voting Labour. Labour have some good ideas in their manifesto, if a bit muddled in places. Labour have the strongest backing out of the parties to get rid of the conservatives who are pandering to the rich and pretending it’s for the good of the poor and disadvantaged. Labour are the best choice right now, at least for me.
For All of those who career with the arts, there is in France, a far more important date this weekend than elections, where fear of the Extreme Right FN, will elect an unproven: the pretence of Centrist Emmanuel Macron, who, at this juncture, is nothing else, but the direct heir to the Five Years of Misery Francois Hollande's Socialist ruling brought upon France and the French people. France is a country of Skills, Creativity and Fine Craftsmanship. That will be celebrated, with better than Hope, but evidence instead, all on display, till May 8 at the Grand-Palais. If you are in Paris, this weekend, Do Not Miss It!
centrist Emmanuel Macron sought to cement his frontrunner status Friday
on the last day of campaigning for the weekend’s election run-off after
a bruising and divisive race.
Macron and far-right anti-immigration candidate Marine Le Pen have
offered starkly different visions for France during a campaign that has
been closely watched in Europe and the rest of the world. (AFP)
a look – from stump speeches to protests – at the last days of the
battle between Macron and Le Pen for the French presidency.
(Photos: Bob Edme/AP, Christian Hartmann/Reuters, Charles Platiau/Reuters, Mal Langsdon/Reuters)