#Blue Voter moment

[grayheartart]

Both times, those marginalized groups had their 2nd amendment rights stripped from them by the federal government.

How about you sit the fuck down before you go calling people stupid, fuckboy.

Bonus round:

Second Amendment fetishists are some of the stupidest people in the world.

[grayheartart]

TL:DW: Democrats making excuses and weaving conspiracies theories to try and pin Bidens mishandling of classified documents on literally anybody else, except on the dipshit moron they voted for.

[smilesbag]

I definitely had fun with the RWRB movie and in no way think that people shouldn't love it and enjoy it but the main place that i think it fails for me as a book adaptation is with its female characters!!

aside from June (who is the emotional core of so many great book moments!!) being totally removed from the movie, characters like Nora and Bea were so unbelievably watered down. Nora lost so much of her energy, and instead of being a feral but hilarious and QUEER genius, she's dulled down to just being Alex's friend who he can bounce his relationship problems off of. and Bea!!! she has such a traumatic personal history of being an addict that is erased, as well as facing intense public scrutiny, something she and Henry bond over. Bea in the movie is such a sweetheart and I adored her but it's a totally different character. she was so spunky and raw and the movie kind of stole all of her personality and just made her the sweet, beloved younger sister of Henry. Zhara and Amy were so fun, but I felt like even Ellen lost a lot of the tenderness that she has in the books.

I truly did enjoy the movie but I am just kind of mourning the version that we could have had if the women in the story had been given space to be real people instead of just sources of comfort for the male leads.

[fernsnailz]

it's time... for the TEAM DARK FEST! 💥💥💥💥

me and @serpentineshine are hosting a little tournament to finally determine who the best Team Dark member is! this week there's gonna be goofs, bits, and even a special prize for the winner 👀

however, the most important prize of all is what awaits at the end of the festival! ...but that's a secret right now.

💥 cast your vote below! 💥

(oh also if anyone makes any propaganda for their fav character. tag me i wanna see)

video transcript below the cut! ⬇️

A blue announcement screen with scrolling text reads “SPECIAL FENSNAILZ ANNOUNCEMENT.” There’s a looping animation of Squeak the cat in the middle. It disappears, cutting to a shot of a studio space.

In the studio, SNAIL, SHINE, SQUEAK, and a VASH PLUSH all sit at a desk with a large CRT TV on it. Squeak and Vash are on top of the TV, and shelves with various items line the walls. Everyone seems to be unaware that the camera is rolling - Snail is reading the script, Shine is drinking from a mug, and Squeak is licking her butthole. Vash remains motionless.

Snail notices the camera zooming in, and throws away the script in a moment of panic. Shine and Squeak sit up to face the camera as well.

SNAIL: Coming at you pre-recorded, it’s Snail, Shine, and The Beasts!

SHINE: We’re here today to announce a special tournament we’re hosting: the TEAM DARK FEST!

SQUEAK: Eep!

VASH: weemp womp :]

SNAIL: You know ‘em, you love ‘em-

SHINE: Or hate them.

SNAIL: It’s all about TEAM DARK this week! Fellas, turn on that TV!

The camera cuts to a close-up of the TV as the screen flips on. Three shitty photos of each Team Dark member appear on the TV under the question “Who is the best member of Team Dark?” Every Team Dark member’s name is misspelled underneath the photos.

SHINE: Time for the ULTIMATE question: Who is the best Team Dark member?

SNAIL: Oof. We’re turning them against each other, huh? That’s dramatic.

SQUEAK: Meep! (HOLY SHIT)

The camera zooms out to a wide view of the studio, but zooms out much further than needed for a split second. For some reason, this is all being filmed on a green screen set, and the shelves behind the cast seem to be edited in. Not only that, but this studio is either widely over-staffed or widely under-staffed, because the boom mic is held by seven Chao stacked on top of each other. The camera zooms into a closeup of Snail before much of this information can be processed.

SNAIL: Well, it’s obviously Shadow. I told him if he won, I would get him ice cream after soccer practice!

The camera pans over to Shine.

SHINE: No way, vote for Rouge! She can carry like. Nineteen mountain lions. Give or take

The camera pans over to Squeak and Vash. Squeak points at a crude drawing of Omega that seems to say “VOTE OMEGA.” It is upside down. Vash holds a cute little sign that says “I <3 OMEGA” that he likely made himself.

SQUEAK + VASH: ?????????????? (we didn’t hire anyone to translate this part.)

Back in a wide shot, Snail and Shine stare blankly at Squeak and Vash. Squeak licks her butthole again. Vash is now Real. Someone off-screen sneezes very convincingly.

SHINE: This poll will run for ONE WEEK before we announce the winner! So little time…

SNAIL: Everyone make your vote count! The winner of this festival will have a special page in my… 

An image of a porcelain snail appears over a white background as an echo-y human voice says “SECRET UPCOMING PROJECT.”

VASH: bweep bwaa :] (Yay! Prizes!)

SHINE: The final verdict will be decided by Twitter AND Tumblr, so commit as much voter fraud as you please!

Squeak bites Vash and he screams. They both fall off the TV and make a surprising amount of noise. Snail and Shine stare in shock.

SNAIL: See you in seven days! And hey, if you want to participate… tag me in any propaganda you make to fight for your favorite Team Dark member!

Squeak and Vash explode.

[moorishflower]

Hey just so you know if you start reblogging shit about how Trump is now definitely gonna win the election and all hope is lost and so why bother trying anything, I'm unfollowing you. I might like you personally, but if your response to that shooting is to just give up and assume the election is a foregone conclusion, you maybe need to do some self-examination about why you feel it necessary to spread further despair instead of using that energy as a galvanizing force for hope or, at the very least (if you feel you have no energy left to fight) not spreading posts that will further demoralize the people who are still fighting.

It is in the best interest of Donald Trump that people who dislike him lose hope and don't turn out to vote because "it doesn't matter," because "Biden is a warmonger," because "nothing ever changes," when we have copious amounts of evidence that things have changed, and Biden has been very quietly and patiently unraveling the tangle of shit that Trump left behind in his first (and G-d willing only) term. The United States are not in a position where huge and radical change is possible at the moment. The country is too large, the states too fragmented, the system of government too spread-out. There is no one entity that can be "overthrown" in order to effect immediate change.

So maybe instead of demanding radical and immediate change that isn't possible, and then whining and moaning when you never get it, maybe do what you can to not spread fear and despair through those who are trying to fight for small, incremental changes.

Me, I'm gonna vote. And I'm gonna bother everyone I know who's 18-26 or so to vote Blue down the ticket, because young voter turnout has historically always been good for the Democratic party.

So yeah. Maybe do some soul-searching. Maybe instead of looking at news you should go for a walk. But also, maybe, stop spreading posts about how the election is in the bag for Trump, because it isn't. There's four months left. There is still time.

Go out and vote. Even if it feels hopeless to you. The least complex of animals will keep fighting even if death seems certain to them, and so should we.

[johnbrand]

Silver Fox News

Out of breath, Richie shut the door behind him. The sun was already shining into his childhood home, the suburban frame one he had seen little of over the last four years. With his college a few states over, Richie was practically only home for the holidays, spending his summers at local internships that kept him away from where he grew up. He did not have anything against his town, or his dad for that matter; he had simply always been too busy. And now, freshly graduated and without a job quite yet, Richie had returned for the time being.

“Dad?” Richie called out, searching the kitchen. Typically, his father waited for him once he got back from his morning run, seated at the counter with a morning coffee and whatever protein-stuffed breakfast appeased him. But now, Richie could not find his dad anywhere.

“Scott?” Richie tried, but no response. Sweat dribbled down his lean, hairless frame. He liked to keep slim and clean-looking, knowing it was attractive for the men he usually slept with. While quite the flirt back in his college town, Richie had yet to hook up with anyone at home. He still had not had that talk with his father yet.

Richie scouted a bit longer, eventually finding his father in the master bedroom. Digging through his closet, Scott seemed to be tossing out all his blue clothing. Anything remotely near that shade even. After another “Dad?” Richie finally caught his father’s attention. Richie had only been home for a few days now, but he had never seen his father so invested in a task and yet, so out of it completely.

“Have you watched the news this morning, son?” Scott asked, to Richie's surprise.

“Uh, no…?”  The sweat had already dried against his exposed frame by that point, so without bothering to take a shower, Richie followed his father out into the living room. He just hoped whatever it was his father wanted him to see would be short, as he was practically naked besides his running shorts. Grabbing the remote, Richie did not expect the first channel to be a Fox News affiliate.

“Really, dad?” Richie questioned. He had never placed his father as the conservative type. He had typically been more independent, while Richie’s perspective was wholly liberal. It was a bit strange to see the network, but maybe Scott had changed while he had been away in college. Speaking of which, had his father always been so salt-and-peppered on top? Richie also took a moment to appreciate his father’s musculature, which he had somehow not noticed until now.

Richie returned his eyes to the screen. On top of the typical Fox News logo was the word “Silver” in an old fashioned font. And instead of the typical newscasters, stories, and lineup, there was just a slide displaying some text. 

“Thank you for tuning into Silver Fox News. Your program will begin shortly.”

“Did you buy some kind of premium subscription?” Richie openly questioned his father, who seemed to be absorbed by the television. “Okay, you got me in front of the news; what did you want to show me?”

Richie’s answer came quickly. The text disappeared, revealing a simple red spiral with flashing commands. It was not anything special, but it was enough.

“Pretty colors…swirling…” Richie slurred after a minute, his tongue becoming heavy in his mouth. “Soothing, silky…the spiral is so…hot…I love…the spiral…I love this feeling…I listen…to the spiral…”

When major research institutions began to announce their predictions of voter turnout for the upcoming election, alarms began to ring off within the Republican party. An assumed 41 million Gen Z voters would be hauling into polling stations, with numbers as high as 43% confirmed to be liberal. It was a staunch difference, one that many leaders could not accept. So instead of following the traditional tactics to sway voters like they had in the past, they decided to take a new route. Why sway voters, when you could make them?

Thanks to the research and funding of a certain well-known tech billionaire, the necessary resources were simple. Leaders believed that the easiest way to eliminate the problem was by creating the solution in the most efficient way possible. Social aspects would include basic background, education, and upbringing. Physical aspects would manage age, size, and demographic. Mental aspects would focus on tradition, individuality, and compliance. But the beauty of it all was that the programmers did very little of the work. Instead, they simply utilized the victim’s preconceived notions.

“What does…being Republican…mean to me…?” Richie drawled, his voice having dropped an octave since the program began. Instead of installing a literal trigger into the victim, the channel exploited the stereotypical beliefs victims already held. “I must become…Republican…that means…middle-aged…suburban…uneducated…Christian…”

As Richie chanted his prejudices out like a spell, his body was subsequently altered. His age more than doubled, ripping away the hair from his head and leaving the beginnings of a horseshoe to splatter the rest across his body. Wrinkles and age lines began to form, but so did musculature as his body beefed up, becoming stronger in the way that most Conservative men naturally are. Daily maintenance of a large suburban home did that to a man after all. 

“Traditional…simple…heterosexual…” Richie continued as a beard formed around his lips. His past was rewritten to better fit the portrait he was painting. Sundays in church, dropping out of high school to later receive a GED, working hard to earn his privilege and not understanding why it was handed to others. Fear of God, fear of big government, fear of outsiders influencing how things were. Disgust for “progress,” disgust for pronouns, disgust for sexual interactions with other males. Pride in his country, pride in being a male, and pride in taking nothing from nobody.

“...handsome…masculine…arrogant…” Before this had all began, researchers already knew that many of their victims would end up the same, as the stereotype of the average Republican was firmly held. What they had not predicted however was the amount of people who held hidden desires for this “average Republican.” A hypothesis arose quickly: if the liberal holds stronger prejudices, then they will become a more attractive Republican. “...alpha…virile…superior…” The choice of naming their channel "Silver Fox News" had been an appropriate one.

Richie, or Dick as he would now be referred to, would certainly provide further evidence to support their theory. As the program finished, the new, Republican silver fox readjusted back into reality, finding his best bud Scott standing before him. Dick could not remember what had just happened, but he liked what Scott laid out as a plan for the rest of the day. Work in the garage for a few hours, run out and purchase the new Trump propaganda, and then end the night at a Hooters. Dick could not decide which part of the plan he would enjoy the most, but clutching his massive pouch, he knew which he was most excited for.

[curioscurio]

Genuine question, if you are voting for Biden why not just vote independent? Biden is not going to win regardless. Why not just skip the vote for genocide and vote for someone that actually cares about Palestinians

Because I live in Florida, which is a powerful swing state. Giving my vote to anyone other than the person who has the best chance at beating Trump is throwing it away. If Trump dies, I'll vote someone else. If Biden dies, I'll vote someone else. If it seems like everyone in the world has finally agreed on a unanimous third party vote by november, I'll vote someone else. Anything can happen before then, and my vote isn't set in stone.

Until then, the majority of undecided voters are going to vote Biden. There's a lot more people in Florida who are tired of the Trump train than you think. They're seeing his trials, his lies, and they're tired. There are a lot of students in Florida who are now eligible to vote. 4 years worth of 18 year olds who all have tik tok and are very much against all the bullshit in the world. And they all understand how the electoral college works. They know their votes could turn Florida blue.

America does not run on Popular vote, it runs on the electoral college. This means that every US state gets a certain number of votes out of 538 total. Some states, like Wyoming, get 3 votes. That means that my state, Florida, effectively gets 30 votes out of the 270 needed to win the presidency. But, here's the catch, ALL of those votes can only go to ONE candidate. (There are exceptions in 2 states, Nebraska and Maine.) If Trump gets more votes than any other single candidate in Florida, all 30 votes go to Trump.

It's called a swing state for a reason, because it can swing the race heavily in one candidates favor. Only Texas and Califorina get more votes at 40 and 54, respectively.

If all the Republicans in Florida vote for Trump, but all the Democrats and Independents are voting for people other than the person on the ballot, Trump will still get 30 votes. Even if some Republicans vote Biden, if everyone else is writing different candidates in, when everything is tallied, Trump could still win.

Imagine you have 270 red delicious apples, 200 Green apples, 38 yellow apples, and 30 macintosh apples. There are still more Red Delicious apples than any other kind, so Red Delicious gets the Presidency. Luckily, people in Florida who liked Red Delicious apples last year are getting tired and might pick Green apples instead this time. They are almost guaranteed to not pick a golden or macintosh apple, though.

This is what happened in 2016 that allowed Trump to win when he LOST to Hillary Clinton for the popular vote. More electoral college votes went to Trump than they did to any other person. From person to person, more Americans as a whole voted for Hillary. It's all about where you live physically.

This is the reason why I'm voting for Biden at the moment. If things change, I'll happily change too!

And Obviously I don't support Genocide. My point is that realistically speaking, Trump has flat out said to just "finish them" already, so it's not out there to assume he will push to accelerate this genocide using nuclear retaliation. I'm not trying to fear monger, I'm saying this system is broken, and they're lying to you about how it works in order to take advantage of your ignorance. Whoever gets the most votes win? Not exactly, but if you don't bother to look any closer, you'll never know you were playing a rigged game from the start.

Vote however you need to for your state. But understand where your vote is going. One vote is the difference between 30 and 3 electoral votes.

[menlove]

hey can you please explain it to us? like how are we supposed to just understand? why would a large ethnic minority vote for an open racist who hates them? this is not intuitive

wasn't trying to imply you're just supposed to understand- sorry, it's just always a lil bit of a uh bitter inducing moment when this topic comes up bc it makes it really obvious that a lot of people just don't engage w the latine community

but basically, most latines are conservative christian. usually catholic (my family isn't catholic, though my grandmother was raised that way). a solid majority of them are one issue voters, usually on the issue of abortion because many catholics & conservative christians are one issue abortion voters.

there's also the immigration issue. a lot of these conservative latines do in fact care about better immigration reform, but a lot of them also have this attitude of "I did it legally, so why can't you?" so they don't even see themselves as a PART of the group being targeted. and if they do and they take issue with it, they tend to go "okay, but the republicans agree with me on everything else and I can't in good moral conscience vote for the other party who disagrees with everything I stand for as a moral christian"

and while many latines have voted blue over immigration in the past, harris leaned pretty heavily right on the immigration issue so it's like. to them. are you choosing the guy who agrees with you on everything but immigration, or the woman who disagrees with you on everything Including immigration?

and then you also have to get into the race of it all because race is beyond complicated in this case. non-black latines sit in a weird in between space with whiteness. to the right, we're white when we're Good. to the left, we're white when it's a Problem. whiteness is conditional. and this is the case for many demographics, but it's especially relevant here. when people sit on that edge of whiteness, they WILL throw each other and other minorities under the bus to earn the protection of whiteness. so you know. behave, vote red, show yourselves to be moral, legal citizens, and MAYBE you'll be granted the protection of being considered white in america. and we aren't. but that doesn't stop people from trying. even taking my dad as an example, I grew up with him talking about how much he hated white people. today, he's out here calling himself a proud white man who voted for trump. it's conditional. and people know whiteness is a protection. naturally, this leads to a lot of antiblackness in the community as well as just racism in general.

it just boils down to latines by and large being conservative christian/catholic and voting based on that rather than viewing themselves a minority race. and being way way more split on the immigration issue than people might imagine, because I've absolutely heard it parroted time and time again that "I got here legally, so can they"

[grayheartart]

*Democrat Senator votes in favor of spending bill*

*has no idea what's in the spending bill*

Typical behavior from the jackass party.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 18

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, post vacation blues, smut, some minor hurt/comfort, mentions of some toxic family behaviour. It's another long one and I am not upset lol. 6.6k

Showering was always the first priority after a vacation, especially after such a long flight. It didn’t matter how hungry you were, how tired you were or how much mail was piled up inside your door, you needed to feel clean. That and the rare times you’d stopped to do something else first you’d get distracted with too many tasks, run two loads of laundry and get in the shower to find all the hot water gone for the night. That was a risk you never wanted to take again.

Choosing the coziest pair of sweatpants and a worn tee you towel dried your hair as you wandered through the upstairs. When you dropped the towel back in the bathroom you were met with your reflection and your nose immediately crinkled, you definitely didn’t have the energy to blow dry your hair right now and suddenly the lack of Emily and her braiding skills was on the top of your mind. You figured a loose ponytail wasn’t going to hurt that much and would at least keep it off your face for the next couple of hours.

Laundry was the next task, make sure all those swim suits were properly cleaned and dried out, any and all sand, sunscreen and sweat were washed away from all your clothes. You heaved your suitcase onto the bed, hamper beside you to get started when you unzipped your bag to find a surprise sitting on top. At first you thought it must have been something from the resort a ‘book your next trip now and save’ coupon or something but curiosity still got the best of you. Your finger slid through the envelope’s seal and a small piece of carboard fell out, something cold on the other side of it sitting in your palm. Flipping it over you found a dainty, incredibly gorgeous pair of starfish earrings and your breath caught in your throat. They were stunning, rose gold and diamonds compiled together for the absolute perfect surprise. A small note inside to go along with them:

‘A gift. For an incredible eleven days. Can’t wait to do it again, Em.’

It was hard to contain the smile on your cheeks as you bounced on your toes, the same sparkle of warmth flowing through your veins as twenty hours ago. You tucked the note into the corner of your mirror, adding the earrings to the top of your jewelry box to be worn at the first opportunity.

**

Straight back to work was the only way you were going to dive back into things, even if it was utterly exhausting and your sleep schedule had seen far better days. You didn’t want to behind, you needed to be completely caught up and know exactly what move was coming next in order to do you job properly and make sure everything ran smoothly. You’d been prepared for that, what you weren’t fully prepared for was an out of office day, SUV’s leaving the District for an event in Virigina. At the very least you didn’t have to be the one driving.

You were in the back of a car with Heather, your gaze held out the window as you watched the barren trees fly by on the highway. You were aware she was speaking and while it took a little bit to process, you were pretty sure you were picking up everything she was putting down. She continued to talk, glancing up from her phone to catch you looking almost longingly out the window and she let out a soft sigh, putting her phone down.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” She asked.

Without moving an inch or glancing toward her you replied, “kiss and make nice with Durant over lunch as per usual, you want an official statement regarding bill 8940 made by five tonight and social media posts done. One regarding the rally today one encouraging voter registration and one promoting the banquet next month.”

“I do not know how you do that.” She muttered with a small laugh, watching for another moment as your shoulders slumped deeper. “You seem down, are you alright?”

You sighed, finally pulling yourself away from the window and drooping down into the seat, looking over to her, “I just got back from two weeks in a very expensive tropical paradise and you’ve got me sludging around in the wet and freezing weather all the way out in Charlottesville. What do you think?” Reaching forward you picked up your coffee mug, taking a hefty swig, “it’s just the post vacation depression. Even the coffee tastes like crap now. Maybe I got too much sun…”

“I take it you had fun then?”

“Heat, it’s the fucking Maldives, who goes there and doesn’t have a good time.” You laughed, “I already want to use up the rest of my vacation days.”

It was Heather’s turn to laugh as she picked up her own coffee, “like hell I’m letting you take off a whole three and half months in one go.”

“Rude.” You replied, feigning a pout, “and here I was thinking I was your favourite.”

She chuckled softly, watching as you sighed again similarly to the way a pet would that made it seemed they were shouldering all the world’s problems when in reality they just had to shift the position they were napping in again. With your gaze back out the window, a near frown on your lips Heather found her own curving up into a soft smile. Sure, the vacation blues could be a bitch, especially with chillier weather like this, but she was certain she had an idea that this was more than that, even if you hadn’t realized it yet.

“Emily experiencing the same lack of sun mood swings?”

“Hmm?” You didn’t even turn from the window.

“Emily…”

“Oh, uh, not sure.” You glanced over to her, your fingers picking at the cuff of your coat, “they got blindsided with a pretty big case as soon as we got back. She mentioned something about it crossing over multiple teams so I’m sure she’s pretty distracted.”

“When are you seeing her next?”

“Was supposed to be tomorrow night, but she cancelled once she got into the office this morning, they’re too slammed and she didn’t want to end up standing me up.”

Heather caught the way your face fell ever so briefly, how you turned your phone around in your hand to see the screen, as if you were willing a new text to appear saying the case was solved and Emily had all the time in the world.

“Once you’re done with that statement, take the car, swing by Quantico on your way back. I’ll ride with Cynthia.”

“What about Durant?”

“I think I can handle her,” Heather chuckled, “besides, you need a break.”

“I’m just tired.” You repeated, “you know how long jetlag fucks me up. My body thinks its past dinner time and I’ve barely woken up. I’ll grab another coffee and power through.”

Her lips pursed, “I’m not asking. I’m telling. Jetlag or not, you need a break.” She took a sip of her drink, “you’re starting to act like a preschooler who refuses to nap. I’m giving you the opportunity now take it.”

“Yes mother.” You replied dryly, giving her a sarcastic salute before dropping your empty cup back into the holder.

“Thank you.” She smiled, a few meters of road going by before you spoke again.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to just drop in unexpected?”

“Say you were in the area and stopped for lunch.” She shrugged, “it’s not a lie. You know she has a habit of working through hers and figured you’d pick up extra and now you’ll get out of her hair. If she’s busy enough, she’ll walk you out, if she has the time, she’ll tell you to stay. Honey, trust me, her job is a lot more political and full of paperwork than you imagine, or than she wants it to be. You’ll be a nice respite in an otherwise tedious day.”

“If I end up looking like an idiot, you’re buying me dinner.”

“Fair enough.” She chuckled, her eye catching something glinting in the low light and her head tilted, hand reaching out, pinching at your ear as she shifted the gem between her fingers. “Are those starfishes?”

“Yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat, “figured they were small enough I could get away with them at work.”

“Huh.” She clicked her tongue, “you know, Becca used to be obsessed with this mermaid show where starfish earrings whispered things to them all the time. She didn’t have her ears pierced so she’d put stickers on them and try to get out of doing chores or homework because they told her she was too pretty for housework and smart enough already.” She scoffed, “ridiculous. The entire thing.”

Her phone pinged and her attention was lost as a small smile crept onto your cheeks, your finger tracing the small jewels in your ear. It wasn’t worth enough to tell her you used to watch Aquamarine with Becca when you babysat and you definitely weren’t going to let her know you’d been the provider of said stickers.

**

It wasn’t that it felt wrong to be in Emily’s office, its that it was almost a little unsettling to be in there alone, phone in your hand as you paced through the room distracting yourself with emails. Anyone could pop through the door at any moment and you highly doubted any of them would know who you were, maybe it was something in your gut that said it was a little weird. You’d been hoping she would just be behind her desk when you were guided to the office and with each moment that went by it felt like your acid reflux was getting worse and you were certain this was a terrible idea. The longer she was gone the longer she stuck doing other things and would turn you away the second she saw you.

“Hi, Agent Prentiss, what can I d—” Emily’s voice rung through the room, commanding yet welcoming before she stalled suddenly, the hand she had extended out to greet her visitor dropping to her side. You froze in your step, looking up at her with a small smile and she let out a huff, “oh thank god, it’s you.”

The tension in her body melted away, a smile of relief spreading across her face as she swung the door shut behind her, flicking the lock. While her team was good at not interrupting phone calls or surprise meetings the other agents working with them seemed a bit more on the unhinged side, she could use five minutes of peace. She stepped toward you, wrapping her arms around you and you sunk into the embrace, warmth flowing through you at the feel of her lips on your cheek.

“Is that new shampoo?” She asked, pulling back and you laughed.

“I guess it’s safe to say I was the only one who snagged a few extra toiletries?”

Emily laughed, her hand trailing down your arm before squeezing at yours. “What’re you doing here? Seems a little far out of your jurisdiction.”

“We had an event in Charlottesville,” you shrugged, hesitancy still evident in your voice as Emily moved around her desk, slipping her blazer off to toss over her chair. “I knew you were busy, probably working through lunch so I figured you might need a little pick me up.” You gestured to the coffee table where the large bag of food along with sodas sat, “and now that I know that you know the food’s here, I’ll get outta your hair.”

“Hey, no!” Emily immediately stepped out from around her desk as her hand reached toward you, “I’m sure you need to eat too, and you cannot leave me alone with these motherfuckers.”

You laughed, harder than you’d meant to, “your team driving you wild?”

“Not them, well, not really.” She huffed, “they’re usually pretty good at being self managed but these guys working with us, Jeeze, it’s like herding fucking cats who are all distracted by their own laser pointers. Not only did you bring food, but I’ll always have some time to take a break if you show up here.”

Emily stepped back toward you, her hand grabbing yours pulling you closer to her and the moment she inhaled your stolen shampoo again it was as if she was transported back to the Maldives. Warm air wafting around both of you, memories of being buried between your legs. Your lips brushed against the side of her jaw, a small chuckle coming from between them.

“Seems like food isn’t the only thing you need. Want me to pull the fire alarm, make a distraction?”

Her hands wandered down your sides, fingertips slipping under the hem of your blouse and your breath caught in your throat. “I can think of something else that’ll work just as well.” She had never been happier that she’d actually decided to lock her door. Leaning in she kissed your neck, nose nudging at your chin to tilt your head back so she had full access. You let out a quiet moan, your hand tangling into the roots of her hair.

“Oh please,” you laughed softly, barely able to keep your thoughts straight as she started to grope at your chest, “you’re not actually going to fuck me in your office.”

She pulled her head up from the crook of your neck, watching the way your eyes darkened as she pinched your nipples through the fabric. Her eyes flicked from yours over to the shut blinds, it was lunch, the bull pen was quiet, “think again.” Her lips met yours briefly and you practically mewled when she pulled away, chasing her lips for another one and she chuckled, “seems like you could use a little pick me up.”

You were almost ashamed of just how quickly you turned to putty in her hands, your mouth dry as she kissed and sucked her way up and down your neck, her hands continuing to toy with your chest. You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, sparks already flying through you, wetness seeping out of your pussy. Whether it was your libido, still used to the quantity of vacation sex or an unknown kink making its way through at the thought of getting caught in a promiscuous situation, you weren’t entirely sure.

Emily grabbed at your ass, rolling your hips against hers and you let out a small noise that made her weak in the knees. One of her hands fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, her nose bumping with yours, gaining your attention when you opened your eyes.

“This alright?” She asked and you immediately nodded, a little too eagerly as your teeth sunk into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. She chuckled darkly, the hand tickling up your inner thigh, cupping your pussy through your panties, a groan on her lips at the damp fabric. Instinctively you leaned against her desk, your legs opening for her to get a better angle, “that’s it… spread your legs for me.” Her hand tapped at your cunt and you shuddered, “now, these are in the way…”

Fingers slipping into your panties she tugged them off to the side, making sure they were secure and not blocking her from what she really wanted.

“Be a good girl and stay nice and quiet for me.” She husked, her lips meeting the side of your neck again and you let out a muffled squeak. Her hand tapped your pussy again and your hips rocked toward the touch, you could feel wetness building between your legs. “God you always get so fucking wet when your pretty pussy gets slapped. Too bad we’re on a short leash,” she nipped at your earlobe, “would love to get some nice hard, loud spanks in, see if you could come just like this.” Her hand swatted against you again, staying pressed into your cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds and your body shivered.

“Em.. please…”

“Don’t worry princess.” Her free hand cupped your cheek, kissing you softly and you melted against her, “I just want to thank you for lunch, promise I’ll be quick.”

Without a second thought Emily sunk to her knees in front of you, shoving your skirt up around your hips and her mouth dove in between your legs. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand, eyes scrunching shut as her tongue lapped through you. It felt like she hadn’t touched you in months, that there were endless weeks of pent up frustration, desire and need between you and this was the only time you were getting to release them. You dropped against her desk when her mouth wrapped around your clit, your pussy pulsing around nothing. A silent beg left your lips in the form of a gasp and Emily was quick to answer it, knowing there was a very high chance you were both short on time. Burying her face between your legs she sucked as much of your juices as she could, wishing she had longer to savour your taste. Moving her mouth up, she latched around your clit, tongue flicking against it while she sunk two fingers into your waiting cunt.

“Fuck…” you whispered, teeth sinking deeper into your lip as your clawed at the edge of her desk with your other hand.

She knew you too well now, knew your movements, your noises and just where to curl her fingers inside you, exactly how to drag the tip of her tongue over your throbbing clit. Wetness was dripping down her hand and she could feel you shuddering against the desk, her free hand reached up, swiftly finding yours and you interlocked your fingers. Her thumb stroked over your knuckles, a soothing and non verbal way to both check in with you and remind you that she wanted you to come, needed to get you to your release and be as relaxed as you could be during a busy work day.

Your back arched as your body stiffened, your hand clutching so tight on hers she was certain she was about to lose feeling in it as your muffled moans barely echoed past your lips. Pleasure soaring through you, your entire body felt electrified, your fingers dropping Emily’s as she gently licked you through it, cleaning up what mess she could. Your hand dropped from your mouth once you were certain you could control your volume.

“Jesus fuck.” You muttered and she laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh.

Emily straightened your underwear back into the right place and neatly pulled your skirt back down, smoothing at the fabric as she stood back up. An arm wound around your waist, her hand softly tickling at the small of your back as you caught your breath and she leant in to steal a quick kiss.

“Good girl.” She kissed the corner of your mouth, “you alright?”

“Totally.” You replied with a soft smile that she returned, crossing the office to grab a couple of water bottles from the mini fridge. With a relaxed sigh you redirected your gaze to the small mirror on the wall beside her desk, perching on the side of it as you began to fix your mussed hair and lipstick.

It was right as she went to speak again, to mention getting some actual food in your mouths that the world’s fastest knock came from the other side of her door, immediately followed by a thud and a muffled ‘ow’.

Emily dropped the bottles of water on her desk, skillfully grabbing a mint in the same movement before sweeping through the room to flick the lock and step back from the flying open door.

“Sorry, force of habit.” She explained with a shrug, “these guys always barge in when I’m on with the Director.”

“No worries Chief Prentiss.” An all too familiar voice replied, rolling out his shoulders from the body check to the door and your head whipped over your shoulder, your eyes widening at the sight of Tony in the doorway, “I think we’ve got a lead with that hotel over on thirteenth….”

His voice trailed off as his eyes swept through the office, not only did he not realize she had company he certainly hadn’t expected it to be someone he knew. His head tilted at the way you were in the process of fixing your lipstick with a Kleenex, a piece of your hair very uncharacteristically out of place. His eyes darted through the room quickly, taking in the messy file folders on Emily’s desk and the untouched take out on the coffee table before looking back to you and a knowing smirk broke out on his lips, a mix of a growling and purring sound coming from his mouth.

“Ooo, meow.” Your head titled in disappointment, Emily’s in confusion and when she made a sound his eyes shot back to her and he remembered where he was, clearing his throat with a cough, straightening his shoulders, “ah..uh.” He let out a huff of a laugh and his mouth immediately slammed shut at the steely cold glare you shot him and he swallowed, trying not to stumble over his words. “Uh, Lewis and I were gonna go check it out.”

“Great.” Emily replied with a nod, “touch base if you find anything and don’t be afraid to call for back up. Thanks DiNozzo.”

“Course boss.” He gave a little salute, lingering in the doorway as his gaze landed back on you, eyes flicking up and down your form before he quirked a brow in Emily’s direction, “Emily…huh.” With a small chuckle on his lips he finally left, swinging the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck…” Emily muttered, looking up to you when a small laugh burst from between your lips, stifled by the hand covering your mouth. “What was that? I mean yeah, you’re hot and he’ll flirt with anything with pulse but I’m pretty sure he’s harmless.”

A louder laugh broke free from your mouth as you dropped your hand, “you’re not wrong there.”

“Wait, you know him?” Her brow furrowed as you nodded.

“He’s quite the lingerie connoisseur.”

“Have you slept with him?” Emily asked, attempting to keep the jealous tone out of her voice, relief flooding through her at the absolute look of horror that washed across your face.

“God no! We’ve been friends for like twenty years. Even if I wanted to he’s so in love with one of his team mates he’s tunnel blind, despite the fact that neither of them will ever admit it.”

“Then what was with that reaction to you being in here?” She asked, picking the water bottles back up and passing one to you.

“Uh, he’s got a really good sense of fashion, I usually drag him along with me when I go shopping, he picked out the teal set with the Swarovski.” You explained with a shrug, “that first time you gave me your card he knew it wasn’t business related so it clearly wasn’t Heather’s and started asking questions. I promise you I never once mentioned your name! He started playing twenty questions, I said you outranked NCIS so he could shut the fuck up about it, then he kept pestering and teasing about me being a sugar baby and… Heather, may have dropped your first name before the trip so I’m assuming he’s put all that together now… including why the door was locked.”

Emily nodded, the beginning of a laugh on her cheeks when her brow furrowed suddenly, “oh fuck!”

“He’s not gonna tell anyone!” You insisted, stepping toward her to squeeze at her elbow, “he’s a tease and an annoying little shit, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut. Especially considering I’ll cut his balls off if he doesn’t.”

“No.” She laughed, reaching for her phone “I completely forgot to pay you.”

It was your turn to be confused, glancing to the untouched lunch and back to her, “this wasn’t exactly planned, I just wanted to drop by and I mean… I already got more than I came for.” Your lips twitched up.

“Not for today, for the Maldives.” Emily explained and you felt your stomach flip flop.

“You don’t need to pay me for that.”

“It was eleven days straight together; I think you deserve compensation.”

“Em, the vacation was the treat.” You squeezed at her hand, “you do not need to pay me twice.”

“You sure?” She asked, her thumb hovering over her phone screen.

“That hotel was what, minimum five grand a night?” You asked and she nodded, “then yeah, I’m more than sure.”

Before she could really try to protest any further or twist it over in her brain to confuse herself even more her desk phone went off, shrill ring echoing through the room and she let out a tired sigh, gesturing to the couch. “Sit, stay, we still need to eat. Just give me a minute.”

“Course.” You shot her a tight smile, your hands smoothing the back of your skirt neatly before sitting down on the couch and tugging out your phone.

Multitasking was nothing new to Emily, the receiver pinched between her ear and shoulder as she picked up a pen to scribble down a couple of notes, occasionally giving a bit of feedback here or there while she let her eyes wander over to the couch.

You had slouched down into it so far that your shoulders were up by your ears, a tight frown on your lips as you stared at your phone. The previous mask of showing up to do a good deed with the intent of spreading a bit of relief and happiness to the other woman completely gone. The blue light blaring from your phone pronounced the bags under your eyes and the way you had just started chewing on your lip told her that you were far less relaxed than the last time she’d seen you. Keeping an eye on you she continued the call, watching you swipe back and forth between drafting an email and your text chain with someone. Every single time a text banner popped up at the top of the email screen you’d either huff or roll your eyes, attempting to ignore it until you were satisfied with the email and hit send, swiping back over. Your jaw tightened, no doubt grinding your molars together as tension began to build through your entire body, your thumbs furiously typing out a reply.

Emily watched as you closed the text chain, taking a deep breath, briefly closing your eyes in an attempt to reset your focus before reopening your email. You were about a third of the way through drafting the email when another three texts came through and you let out an exasperated grunt, your phone making a low flip through the air before landing on the other end of the couch and you dug through your bag to pull out what she assumed to be your work phone. Whoever was hassling you clearly didn’t have that number as you were easily able to finish the email on it and ignore the intermittent buzzing from more texts. Eventually your personal phone starting vibrating with a call, threatening to leap off the side of the couch and you grabbed it at the last minute, picking up with your voice low as to not interrupt Emily.

“What?” You hissed, then let out an angry huff, pinching at the bridge of your nose, “I am at work! I already told you that and I will call you when I get home.” You hit the end call button and immediately powered off the device, burying it in the depths of your purse before dropping back against the couch to finish the second email.

At first Emily had been wondering if it was DiNozzo, firing off teasing text after text, taunting you about being in the BAU Section Chief’s office all alone on lunch break. But the way she could tell the absolute frustration and anger was building up deep in your body all the way to your bones, stiffening every muscle, it was worse than that. Not to mention he definitely knew you weren’t at work. It also clearly wasn’t a work issue if they couldn’t get a hold of you through that phone.

You finished the email, gently placing the device down on the coffee table and bracing your elbows on your knees, your hands running over your face as you took a couple of deep breaths. Now finalizing details of her own conversation Emily couldn’t quite tell if you were fighting off the urge to throw your phone out the window, or if you were biting back tears. What she did know was that either way, she didn’t like it and whoever was making you feel this way was the one who deserved to be thrown out the window.

Hanging up the phone she rounded the desk, crossing the room as she took a seat beside you.

“Hey… you okay?”

“Hm?” You nearly jumped at how close she was when you pulled your head out of your hands.

“I asked if you were okay?” She repeated softly, her hand sliding across the couch toward you, changing her tactic in hopes you might open up, “kinda skipped the whole aftercare part today…”

“No! no, Em, that was perfect.” You assured her, your hand darting out to squeeze at hers, “I’m fine. Jetlag and I just aren’t exactly friends, it’s thrown everything off and made me a little moody. Kinda been out of it since we got back.” With a sigh you leant forward, finally ripping open the take out bag.

“Yeah.” She replied, biting at her lip, “something does almost feel like it’s missing.” She accepted a container of chicken chow mein and a fork from you as you opened your own container.

“Could have something to do with the lack of sunshine and ocean air.”

“Very true.” She laughed, taking a few bites of food, letting out a groan of appreciation over how much better it tasted than cafeteria food.

You scooped up a couple of shrimp, managing to shovel them into your mouth, chewing for probably too long before reaching for your soda. What normally would have been a comfortable silence filled the room, but you were still radiating tension and Emily was worried, especially when after two more mouthfuls of food you seemed to be spending more time staring into the counter stabbing shrimp as if they were the ones blowing up your phone.

“Hey…” she reached out slowly, her hand resting on your knee before she squeezed it. Your fork stopped moving but she caught the way your shoulder tensed up, refusing to look up at her yet “I promise you; I make a very hard habit to not profile the people in my personal life but you caught me at work, in full profiler mode and something’s clearly up… talk to me…”

With a sigh you leant forward, placing down your lunch and you shifted on the couch, pulling one leg up under you so you were turned more toward her. You gave her a look, your lips pursing off to the side and her head tilted, a knowing almost glare in her eye.

“And don’t you dare tell me you’re just tired. That may be a contributing factor here, but whoever’s on the other side of that phone,” she gestured to your purse, “is clearly causing you grief.”

“It’s stupid.” You shrugged, “I don’t need to bother you with my personal hang ups when you’re in the middle of a case so big you’ve dragged NCIS into it.”

“You absolutely do.” She replied, her hand still resting on your knee, thumb soothing across your leg, “well, I mean, I guess you don’t have to. But I’d really like it if you would, advice, sounding board, silent partner to vent to, how to hire a hitman?” Her lips twitched up, “whatever you need I’m here.”

“Emily!” You scolded and a warmth bloomed through her chest at the sight of you truly smiling, a small laugh on your features as you shook your head at her.

“Hey, I know a guy…”

“I’m starting to think I might have to report you.” You teased back and she mocked offence, her hand mimicking clutching pearls before she laughed, leaning back toward you and bumping your shoulder with hers.

“C’mon, what’s going on?”

You took another heavy breath, scooping your lunch back up and settling into the corner of the couch, “I was getting ready for work this morning and my mother decided it would be the perfect time to call.”

“Okay well I already don’t like the sound of this.”

“Yeah.” You shot her a knowing glance, pausing for a small bite of food, “I kid you not the call was six minutes and forty two seconds and in that small amount of time she just fucking tore me apart. She asked how I’d been, I said I was good, getting ready for work. She then began to dig into my job, asking if I’d gotten any kind of promotion recently, that I deserved a pay increase. Asking why I’m still interning following Heather around like a lost dog after all these years, I should be doing more, could be out there using that law degree, ‘making a name for myself’.”

“She has no idea what it is you actually do, does she?” Emily asked dryly and you nodded with a huff.

“Not a clue. Which doesn’t help the nagging in other departments, before I can even get a word in besides the fact that I love my job she’s going off on how I could afford a nice place to live on a better salary. That ‘the dump’ I was living in last year could certainly use an upgrade and she could send me some listings if need be.”

“Your place is literally bigger than mine.”

“Yeah, but it’s not an eleven million dollar mansion.” Your nose crinkled in distaste, “she doesn’t understand why I would bother to live quote un quote ‘modestly’ when I could definitely be flaunting myself to a higher career and fancier lifestyle with fast cars and expensive yet boring houses.”

“She doesn’t really get how money works, does she?”

“Nope.” You stabbed another piece of shrimp, though this one remained on the fork as you continued to talk, “but don’t worry, I couldn’t even try to explain it if I wanted to. She then veers off another tangent, asking if I still talk to April who I went to high school with back in Connecticut, because she lives out here now. I say I haven’t and she asks about three other friends who happened to have moved out to D.C. post graduation yet have nothing in common with me anymore. Like, I haven’t talked to most of these girls in over twenty years! I reminded her about a couple of other friends she’s met and she breezes directly past it ignoring every single thing I say. She managed to belittle not just me but everything that makes me, me in such a short span of time, it just…”

“Sucked…”

“Yeah.” You finally popped the piece of shrimp into your mouth, chewing slowly while digesting your ranting, feeling the tension beginning to leave your body. “She finally got around to the point of the phone call as I reminded her I had a very important job to get to and it turns out I actually have an inheritance.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming….” Emily countered and you cast her a look.

“Mom’s feeling pretty insecure about how she’s aging –which, is likely thanks to all the chain smoking, drinking, fast food and tanning – so she’s decided she’s flying out to California to get a whole slew of plastic surgery and cosmetic work done. And of course if she’s going all the way out there she may as well take her two best friends for a girl’s trip before the procedures.”

“And your inheritance is paying for all of it?”

“Including the friends tickets, yeah.” You threw your fork back into the container, “I didn’t even know I had an inheritance!”

Emily watched with a frown as you dropped yourself back into the couch, “offer still stands to pay you for your time.”

“No, Em really” you shook your head, “it’s not even about the money. I—it’s… I’m tired, I’m frustrated, it’s cold and shitty weather, things are off and parents… fucking suck. I just thought for once maybe she’d be happy for me but she didn’t even hear a word I said.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, placing her lunch down on the table as she shifted toward you. She could see the shimmering in your eyes already and if you were as weirdly tired and jetlagged as she’d been feeling, crying would just make the entire thing worse and you’d likely be embarrassed on top of it all. So she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into her side and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Parents fucking suck.”

“Yeah.” You replied with a dejected sigh, sinking into her embrace and you felt the anxiety shaking in your chest finally calming down as the scent of her perfume drifted into your nose. Her hand rubbed up and down your arm, her lips brushing against your temple again.

“Hey, I’m sorry I had to cancel Thursday, I feel like you need some company right now.”

“It’s fine.” You wiped at your eye quickly before sitting up, “I’m sure I’m not much fun I already got compared to a toddler today.”

Her brow furrowed but she didn’t address the comment, “this week’s still out but as long as the case doesn’t take us out of state can I at least take you for brunch Sunday?”

“Can it be in the Maldives?” You asked, the corner of your lips twitching up.

“Pretty long flight for one meal.”

“What if we never came back?”

Emily laughed softly, squeezing at your hand, “that’d be a dream. C’mon, we don’t even have to go out if you’re not up for it. I’ll just bring over a McMuffin and we can pretend its brunch.”

A small smile came over your cheeks, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Her hand caressed your cheek, fingers trailing up your jaw until a finger curled behind your earlobe, “you know I don’t think these little guys are doing their jobs very well. If they were whispering compliments all morning you’d probably be in a better mood.”

You laughed softly, a blush on your cheeks, “they’re probably too cold to talk right now.” The sound of half the team returning to the bull pen pulled both of your attention in the direction of the door and you let out a soft sigh, “I should get outta here before Tony comes back. If I’m still in your office I will quite literally never hear the end of it.”

Emily laughed, standing when you did, “hey, you text me tonight if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.” You slipped your coat back on, your purse over your shoulder as you turned back to her. A second later and you were stepping toward her, wrapping her in a tight hug that she returned, “thank you.”

“Hey,” she only pulled away as far as she needed to in order to kiss your cheek, “anytime. I mean it.”

___________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[batboyblog]

I keep seeing the take of "vote blue no matter who is fascism/leads to fascism" literal days before the election and people going on tirades about how we're licking their boots while they kick our teeth in and I'm just so fucking tired. I just. Am so tired. I also saw someone explicitly mention "they could eviscerate a baby on the stage and you'd still vote for them" and that just SEEMS anti-Semitic. I sincerely hate this so much. I see people also claiming that "withholding your vote is the only political power you have" and I want to scream.

And I'm straight up seeing people say "Oh so republicans will be so much worse? Then we die together" and holy fucking shit these people are awful, straight up the most selfish motherfuckers I've ever seen in my life. They really are just hoping for a "revolution" so they can cosplay as the anarchists they've always wanted to for a few brief moments before they get jailed/straight-up killed. They don't care about the millions, billions of people who's lives are about to get so much worse thanks to this.

I'm sorry for doing such a rant but oh my god. Why are people like this.

where's that tweet about firebombing Wal-Mart and then not?

maybe the greatest tweet of all time.

any ways, I was just out and about in the real world knocking on doors and yeah I was knocking easy turf (every other house was a Democrat pride float of signs and banners) but I can tell you these internet edge lords aren't real, I mean in some cases literally not real being fake people meant to demotivate voters. But even those who are real Americans who really feel that way, they're such a tiny unimportant minority that they're not really real and spoiler most people like that are NEVER voters, they don't vote, ever so like "I'm not gonna vote" you didn't before so you don't really factor in, its like children, how they feel doesn't matter because they can't vote.

The real feeling out there is good, you know, I'm tired, and I'm going out again tomorrow, thats what its really about, they bitch about Democrats and shit but we're out talking to people, organizing, mobilizing, and voting, they want a Revolution, well then here it is you can turn the world if you do the work.

people saying they won't vote for a better world is stupid, and its childish, I think of all the fights we've fought, all the little wins that build up to national victories, we have a chance to keep going forward, to break down more barriers, to right more wrongs to make the American Dream available to more people who never before had a shot, we can be a more perfect union, and we can do great things together. Or we can allow the gift we have been given, guarded by generations in blood and pain in the fields of Gettysburg, Beaches of Normandy, in the dirt of Philadelphia, Mississippi, and in the street in front of the Stonewall Inn to be take away from us, to allow a Government for, by and of the people to vanish from the Earth. Thats the choice, the rest is noise.

[mariacallous]

This election should be a wake-up call to blue states to get our fucking houses in order - because for a long time we've been able to coast and not really focus on genuine, tangible, and as quick as possibly can be implemented changes and reforms to shit *WE* think is bad. The uniform swings to Trump across the board are at part a sign that people are tired of how shit is going, even in places that oppose him overall.

Blue states will not escape unscathed, and voters in blue states have shown they're getting fed up. Trump doing well in places with high costs of living and high foreign-born populations is not a good thing, and too many blue state elected officials don't actually do the hard work of governing.

NYS is full of people at the city and state level who are Activists in Office and pass legislation that gets struck down by courts (UNIFORMLY, NOT JUST WITH REPUBLICAN-APPOINTED JUDGES) because they're sloppy, contradictory, and unconstitutional. Or they talk a big game and then pass the most lackluster legislation that's a bandage to the issue.

Or they focus on The Issue Of The Moment and pass a package of 6 bills with 468 new requirements and 239 deadlines and it's for something that a) should be part of a broader focus and/or b) is a relatively niche issue.

And then there are those who are the epitome of the "in this house we..." progressives who also Don't Want More Housing Development In My Neighborhood and "worry about whether the neighborhood can handle an influx". Is that concern valid? Sometimes! But not uniformly.

All of this is creating an environment where more and more people are fed up and turning to whatever will let them express their discontent and potentially, they think, benefit them. And the consequences and outcomes will not be pretty for anyone.

If we don't start to fix shit - especially the shit that is almost entirely within the control of local and state governments - we will pay dearly for it, and repeatedly.

So blue states - buckle up fuckleheads and let's get the fuck to work on the shit we can and need to fix.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

44,000 women of color had a planning call on zoom last night. they are jumping in big time

+

The base and the grassroots

If one of Joe Biden’s perceived weaknesses was with the traditional Democratic base, the response to Harris’s call to arms could allay a great deal of those fears.

I watched with satisfaction as a zoom call for Black women—the party’s most reliable voters—to mobilize for Harris grew from a planned 1,000 people, then swelled to 20,000, then 30,000, before topping out at more than 40,000 people according to attendees and raising a reported $1.5 million.

The labor unions began moving quickly, too. By Sunday evening, the American Federation of Teachers had endorsed Harris, as had the powerful SEIU, or Service Employees International Union, which represents 1.9 million workers and is key to victory in the swing state of Nevada.

Progressive PACs also announced their support. Three of them representing AAPI, Black and Latino voters—AAPI Victory Fund, The Collective PAC and Latino Victory Fund—issued a joint statement of endorsement, which carries significant symbolic value.

The Human Rights Campaign, on whose national board I serve and which is the nation’s largest LGBTQ+ civil rights organization, mobilizing millions of equality voters across critical battleground states, came out yesterday evening with our own endorsement of Kamala Harris for President.

And among Gen Z voters, there is a finally a palpable excitement for a candidate who is far more relatable, hip and with it, who doesn’t carry the same political baggage around Israel and Gaza that Joe Biden does. Harris and her team are comfortable with digital media. Within moments of her announcement of her candidacy, the artist Charli XCX posted, “Kamala is Brat”—a tweet that has been viewed 21 million times with a quarter of a million likes, and Harris responded by branding the Kamala HQ account with Brat colors.

And on Sunday, Act Blue logged an eye-popping estimated $68.3 million in new donations for Harris for President. This comes as welcome news after fundraising dried up sharply following questions over Biden’s continued viability as a candidate.

[TCinLA]

[grayheartart]

>Fails in Iraq and Afghanistan

>Fails to keep his campaign promise to forgive student loans

>Fails to raise a decent son

>Fails to see a simple fucking sandbag

>needs the media to molly-coddle his stupid ass

>"AsS-KiCkEr LeAdUr, hurrr durr"

Shut the fuck up, Democrat.

I was hoping for a caretaker. What we got is an ass-kicker leader.

[sendpseuds]

Voter registration AU sounds so goooood already! Please more if you have more ideas!

"Mr. Skywalker."

Anakin recognizes the voice immediately, a wild chill running down his spine before he can turn to face the man who has been running through his mind for weeks.

"I'm glad to see you've chosen to do your civic duty after all."

He wasn't going to.

He never has before.

Hell, until last month, Anakin hadn't even been registered to vote.

Not until he met Obi-Wan.

Usually, he has no problem speed-walking past those annoying mall canvassers —putting his hood up and his head down, pretending he can't hear the pleas for "just a moment of your time," not caring if they want to talk about the rainforest or his electric bill — but when a smooth voice had broken through the haze of his thoughts, Anakin found himself staring into the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

The same eyes looking at him now.

Eyes Anakin had been too caught up in to lie when the man asked if he was registered to vote in a low and lilting voice that had his mind blank of any reasonable excuse. He'd barely been able to pay attention as Obi-Wan walked him through the shockingly simple process, nodding along with words he wasn't listening to and answering the questions as if the responses were automatic, agreeing readily when the man offered to make him a voting plan.

At no point during this process did Anakin actually intend to go through with said plan.

That was until—

"Yeah, well, I kinda know one of the volunteers," Anakin says with a tilted smile, trying to swallow the blush he can feel beginning to heat his cheeks, determined not to trip over himself the way he had all those weeks ago when Obi-Wan casually commented on the coincidence of being assigned to Anakin's district and suddenly voting had become his top priority, "I didn't want to disappoint him."

The words come out confident and cool even as his heart skips at the way Obi-Wan smiles and suddenly Anakin thinks maybe he hadn't been halucinating the heated energy between them.

"Well," Obi-Wan hums teasingly, those stunning eyes shifting from sky blue to silver to sage and back again as he flashes a playful grin, "you haven't actually voted yet."

In the weeks since he met Obi-Wan, Anakin has been fantasizing about this moment— what he'd do, what he'd say, how he'd convince the man to fuck him in a voting booth [which now that he sees that a "booth" is little more than a plastic divider on a table, he's realizing isn't exactly an option.]

Even in the most subdued scenarios where he stutters his way through asking the man for his number, one thing is clear—

He won't get another chance.

Might as well go for it.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

Obi-Wan blinks.

"Is that what I—" he repeats the words slowly, his eyebrows shooting up when he registers the flirtation beneath the words, "Anakin—"

"You want me to do my civic duty?"

He's pushing it and he knows it — ducking his head, batting his lashes, sucking his lip — but he'd rather get rejected like this than walk out of here and wonder.

"I—" Obi-Wan stutters, his eyes tracking over the younger man's features before finally dropping to his mouth and Anakin can't help but sink his teeth into the flesh of his lower lip, trying not to smile the moment he sees the reservation drain from those bright beautiful eyes, "Yes. I do."

Victory.

"I may need a little— guidance," Anakin teases, stepping closer, his voice low like a secret, "This is my first time you know."

It doesn't take long to get checked in and into a "booth" with his ballot and a blue bic pen and though his entire body is begging for whatever comes next, there is a strange moment of clarity as he stares down at the paper before him.

It feels— important.

When he feeds his completed ballot into the machine and turns to find Obi-Wan wearing a smug smile, Anakin thinks the only thing better than feeling pride in himself is seeing it in those incredible eyes.

"So—" Anakin hums as he approaches the man, ducking his head and looking up through his lashes, "Do I get a reward?"

Obi-Wan hums consideringly, his initial shock long since past, that cool control back in place even as he lets his gaze linger on Anakin's lips far longer than anyone would consider decent.

"Of course you do, darling."

It takes every last ounce of control in Anakin's body not to simply fall to his knees right there in the middle of a church's rec room.

Then the bastard holds up an I VOTED sticker with a shit-eating grin and a wink and he thinks he might just explode.

"A sticker?" Anakin grunts through gritted teeth, his voice both desperate and disappointed despite his best efforts but when a large hand lands on his shoulder, warm and heavy, a knot in his chest eases.

"I want you to wear it."

It's like being struck by lightning—

The way Obi-Wan's steady words skitter down his spine.

He can't get that stupid fucking sticker on fast enough.

It's only then, as he's about to crumple up the flimsy strip of backing film that he sees it—

Ten numbers.

Neat handwriting.

Blue ink.

And when that voice rumbles low in his ear, Anakin can honestly say, he's never been more excited for an election night in his life.

"The polls close at eight."

[theswordwrites]

PART THREE (the alchemy)

Juniper Greyson signs a contract, putting her into a PR relationship with Aemond Targaryen.

tw: nothing crazy, lowkey power imbalance, my sweet junie girl :(

word count: 2.4k

PART THREE

Juniper Greyson considered herself a rational person. She loved to make lists: pros and cons, to-do’s, her favorite things. But as she walked up the steps to Aemond Targaryen’s townhouse, she felt anything but.

She hadn’t told her friends—hadn’t told anyone—what Aemond had offered her. Edith and Arianne believed that he would simply deny the rumors, and the media storm would blow over as quickly as it had begun. June figured there’d be a nondisclosure agreement buried somewhere in the contract, so she hadn’t yet thought much about how she would explain things to them when more photos, more headlines, and more attention inevitably followed. Her borrowed time of anonymity wouldn’t last long.

Aemond, ever calculated and cunning, would surely coach her on what to say when that moment came.

The night before, she’d done her research. It was only smart to be prepared, though clearly, Aemond had one-upped her on that front from the start. She’d spent hours scrolling through his campaign footage, galvanizing speeches, and a mountain of articles on the infamous rift between his family.

When his father was ousted from his seat as Prime Minister, Viserys urged his advisors to consider his daughter as the next face of the party. Westerosi men being… well, men denied his wishes. Claiming that Rhaenrya, despite her law degree and experience as a legal aid, was too inexperienced to run for office. She was cast aside for her uncle, Daemon Targaryen. While he had the experience and the prowess, his ideology created a rift between within the Black party. Viserys’ closest aides left in protest, throwing their support behind the emerging Green party—promising fresh ideas and a better future for Westeros.

By then, Aemond had already earned two PhDs, completed a clerkship with the Westerosi courts, and championed multiple activism organizations across various causes. Politically, he was the perfect candidate. He was progressive enough to win over younger voters with promises of change but aristocratic enough to appeal to the establishment that was disillusioned with the Blacks.

Personally, though, he had an image problem. Or rather, a lack of image issues. In every article, every video, every think piece, there was nothing about his personal life. No wife, no scandals, no hobbies—just politics. His brother Aegon, on the other hand, was a walking headline with a string of scandals, a modeling contract, and a very active Instagram page. His sister Helaena kept out of the limelight for the most part, choosing to advocate for environmental conservation and animal welfare on the coast.

June even tried to find out how he’d gotten the scar over his right eye but came up with nothing beyond a Reddit page full of wild theories. A boating accident, a fight with his cousin, a jilted lover.

The door opened, snapping her out of her thoughts. Aemond stood there, dressed in a knit sweater and jeans. It was the most relaxed she had ever seen him—normal, or at least as close to normal as the silver-haired, one-eyed Targaryen could be. In the daylight, she noticed the slight difference between his natural eye and the artificial one. The glass eye was a pale blue, missing the subtle violet undertone of the other. Again, she wondered what had happened to him.

“Hello, June,” he greeted her, his voice soft but focused. He gave her a once-over, a near-imperceptible smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Her pulse quickened. She had spent an hour hidden away from Arianne, agonizing over her outfit and rehearsing what to say. What does one wear to sign a contract for a fake relationship with one of the most well known men in Westeros?

She hadn’t the faintest idea, so she settled on a simple dress with a sweater layered over it. It seemed to pass his inspection as he nodded and stepped aside to let her in.

The last time she’d been here, she’d been too inebriated to appreciate the decor. But now, in the late afternoon light, she noticed the understated elegance of the townhouse—the art on the walls seemed more vibrant, the details more intentional. She chalked it up to her sobriety.

“Your home is beautiful," she managed, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she glanced around.

“Thank you,” Aemond replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’d like to take the credit, but my mother had a hand in it. I’m not one for all the pomp and frills.”

He walked ahead, leading her through the house with the grace that seemed intrinsic to him. In the kitchen, her eyes landed on a neat stack of papers on the pristine marble countertop—the contract, no doubt. Her stomach lurched at the sight of it.

Gods, am I really doing this? She thought to herself.

“Coffee?” Aemond asked, already reaching for two mugs.

“Yes, please.” She nodded, her words clipped and polite.

“You were much more talkative the night we met.” he remarked, a playful ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he poured the coffee.

“Apologies,” she replied, mirroring his smile. “I couldn’t find an etiquette manual for how to interact with your fake-boyfriend whom you know nothing about.”

Aemond laughed, a soft, brief sound that broke through his usually stoic demeanor. She found she liked the sound of it.

“That’s fair,” he conceded, his tone losing some of its edge. “I know this must be—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “—challenging and overwhelming. But I think we could be friends. Or at least come to some sort of understanding.”

“I would hope so, since we’ll be contractually obligated to spend time together.” Her tone was wry, but she softened slightly. “I think we could be friends. I could teach you about some of the art in the foyer. You have no idea the significance of the water lilies piece. It’s probably worth more than this house.”

“I’d like that,” he said, his gaze lingering on her. “I don’t have many friends—well, I have some. But I’ve always been the type to keep to myself.”

Aemond’s admission caught her by surprise, and she saw the slight tension in his posture. She felt a small pang of empathy for him, but that didn’t stop her curiosity from getting the better of her.

“Is that why there's nothing about your personal life? Anywhere?” The question left her mouth before she could stop it and she tugged her lip in between her teeth in embarrassment of her brashness.

He only raised an eyebrow at her, “Stalking me?”

“Please,” she quipped back with a grin. “I didn't tell you my name before you showed up at my apartment. How’d you manage that?”

“Aegon told me.” he admitted casually.

She nodded and he slid the contract towards her, along with the mug. Her nimble fingers thumbed through the pages, the headings leaping out at her.

I. DURATION

II. RULES

III. CONFIDENTIALITY

IV. COMPENSATION AND BENEFITS

V. TERMINATION

Each word seemed heavier than the last.

He began, “Duration-wise, I’d suggest at least until the election in four months. If we find the arrangement works, we could extend longer into the first part of my term. The termination clause allows us to end it whenever we see fit, with some stipulations, of course.”

June’s eyebrows arched slightly. “Stipulations?”

“If you decide to terminate,” Aemond explained, “you’d have to sign another confidentiality agreement stating that you won’t speak to the press. The benefits change with each month—my lawyer calls it an incentive to continue, but I think it’s fair for the time commitment.”

She only nodded, “And the rules?”

“We’d need to be seen together, obviously, sparingly and privately at first. But you’d be expected to attend campaign events, galas, public events eventually. We’d have to be seen on dates and with friends. Like a normal couple would. My publicist has worked out a schedule that will intensify as the months go on. Leading people to believe things are getting more and more serious.”

He continued, “We won’t be seen with other people. No secret hookups or affairs. No real intimacy between the two of us outside of the public eye. Hand holding, small touches would be appropriate but I’m not expecting you to snog me on the street.”

June’s eyes skimmed over the section marked RULES, but her focus stalled on a single phrase: intimacy in public. Her stomach twisted. She was expected to hold his hand, look at him like he was her boyfriend, touch him like it meant something.

Her breath hitched slightly, the pen momentarily forgotten in her hand. Could she even do that? Fake a relationship so convincingly that people wouldn’t see through it? The very idea of pretending to care—of pretending to feel something for someone she barely knew—made her chest tighten. And the idea of physical closeness… holding hands, even the suggestion of small touches, left her feeling exposed, like her skin was too thin. It wasn’t that she was completely inexperienced with relationships, but she wasn’t someone who offered affection easily. Intimacy wasn’t just about the physical act; it was the vulnerability it demanded.

She stared at the page, her heart hammering as a thousand doubts rushed in all at once. What if I can’t pull this off?

Aemond spoke about public appearances like they were part of a play, something to be rehearsed and executed. But June didn’t know if she could act. Would she be able to hold his hand, let alone lean into him for a picture, while pretending to be someone she wasn’t?

Her fingers traced the edge of the contract again. No real intimacy outside the public eye, it said. But even in public, the thought of being close to him—this man who seemed all edges and secrets—made her pulse quicken with a different kind of fear. Wouldn’t her body betray her, show the awkwardness, the discomfort? How could she look at Aemond like he was hers, when the very idea of such closeness made her stomach twist into knots?

She had spent years building walls around herself, carefully keeping others at a distance. Now, she was being asked to tear them down for the world to see, even if it was only pretend. She swallowed, the dread thick in her throat.

June’s eyes flickered down to the compensation section, and she paled at the figures listed. The sum was staggering, more than she had ever dreamed of. For that amount of money, she would hold his hand, touch him and let everyone think it was real.

Who would turn down that offer? An idiot. She thought. With that, her decision was finalized in her mind.

“This is really happening,” she said, her voice soft.

Then, she leaned against the counter, signing in swooping, cursive letters.

Juniper Greyson

“So, what’s next?” She slid the contract back to him, watching him repeat her motions and ink her name next to his.

“I’ll have my publicist send you our calendar. Any time there’s an outing, a car will pick you up or I will. I have a guest bedroom here, when it’s necessary and I can have my assistant buy any essentials you need while you’re here. Send him a list.” He pushed a business card toward her, their fingers brushing briefly. “We’ll start with something casual—a private dinner. The restaurant will leak photos afterward. Are you free tomorrow evening?”

She nodded.

“Any dietary restrictions?”

“No.”

“Well then, Juniper Greyson,” he said, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward slightly, “would you like to go on a date with me?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The rest of June’s day and the next felt like a blur under the weight of what she had agreed to. A date. A full-blown fake relationship. A chance at a prestigious career. She hadn’t told anyone that she had seen Aemond, much less about their arrangement. The non disclosure agreement she signed was airtight, with a list of consequences so long she didn’t even think about breaking it.

She figured that she would tell Arianne, and the rest of her friends, before the date. June would play the coy, crushing fool and gush how Aemond had apologized for the photos and invited her to dinner as an apology. “He’s actually… sweet, you guys. More normal than I ever thought.” Practicing in the mirror felt stupid, laughable even, yet she found herself doing it anyway. It made the guilt creep in faster, overtaking the excitement she would never admit to feeling. She hadn’t been on a date in ages and as she put on a pop playlist and sipped her wine, she decided she felt happy. Happy to dress up and feel pretty, happy with the deposit in her bank account that hit earlier in the evening and happy to make a new friend, strange as the circumstances may be. Arianne still wasn’t home from work. so she sent a text to their group chat.

JUNIPER: I have something to share with the group

Her phone dinged once. Then twice. Then a third time.

EDITH: SPILL!!!!!

SERAPHINA: if it’s about the guy from the library I totally saw him snogging a guy yesterday

ARIANNE: Does it have anything to do with your disappearing act yesterday?

Her heart beat faster at the last text. Of course Arianne, of all people, would have noticed her avoidance the day before.

JUNIPER: Well kind of. Aemond invited me over for coffee to apologize about the photos.

They released a statement this morning, he explained that the press has been hounding him about his dating life and they’ll bite at anything

But… he may of invited me to dinner because he felt so bad

And I might have said yes

SERAPHINA: oh i was not expecting that

EDITH: Omg

JUNIPER: He promised his security would take care of any paps and the restaurant would be super private.

He was really sweet and more normal than I expected.

Doesn’t hurt to have friends in high places right?

ARIANNE: I’m not sure if getting involved with him is a good idea.

June let out a breath. Arianne had no clue exactly how involved she was about to get. She quickly responded.

JUNIPER: I wouldn’t say we’re involved!

She put her phone on do not disturb after that and took a large gulp of her wine. Although she felt a bit of relief that they knew something, the guilt of lying quickly washed over her.

They would do it too, she told herself as she finished her makeup.

It will be worth it, she told herself as she slipped on her coat.

I’ll be fine, she told herself as she got into the sleek, black SUV Aemond sent her

an: okay now we’re getting into the good stuff!!! i hope junes indecision comes across as genuine; she knows that the benefits of agreeing to help aemond would greatly improve her quality of life, her career, her status etc. but she is also very aware of it being a bad idea. like there’s no universe where it just goes well but a girl cannot turn down a dollar sign and a pretty man. im excited to play around with the friendship dynamics, and i hope you got a little peek of that in this chapter :) thank you for reading!!!