#cannot wait to vote tomorrow

[meaningtotellyou]

harris is still killing it with the swing states so far

[xoxochb]

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“get these off.” you begin to throw each of the four blankets off one by one. “I never want to see these again in my life.”

“wait! shouldn’t this be a democracy?” percy hurriedly stops your hands in their movements.

your brows furrow. “there’s only two of us.”

“and mini us.” he points to the seahorse and turtle you had placed on your bedside table.

you sigh. “they don’t get a vote. I’m taking three of those off before I get heat stroke.”

you begin to throw each one onto the floor. you’d be washing the sheets tomorrow morning anyways. percy, defeatedly falls back against the headboard of the bed and allows you to continue until only one blanket is left.

you already feel much cooler. you sit up fully into a criss-cross with your legs and let the blankets fall and expose your exposed and burning skin.

percy reaches out and traces your spine from very top to bottom with his index. it’s oh-so light and sends your skin tingling.

“what’re you doing?”

“am I allowed to just touch you because I can?”

you close your eyes. “then touch me.”

percy smirks. “happily, sweet girl.”

your eyes shoot back open and you turn around, taking the blanket with you so he cannot be distracted by your chest. “that’s not what I meant!”

“well it was a very broad statement.”

you slap his head. “I’m leaving now, perseus.” you roll your eyes drop the blanket entirely and stand up from the bed.

“wait I wanna come with you.”

percy scurries off the bed but you’ve already began walking into the bathroom. once in, you turn on the shower and wait awkwardly for it to warm up to your preferred temperature.

luckily, percy enters and waits awkwardly with you.

but he’s also adhd so that only lasts about three seconds.

“how much longer?”

“go in now.”

he shrugs and enters. you enter yourself right after, not bothering to wait as you’re aware he could always adjust the temperature at his own will himself.

you push him out of the falling of the water so you can enjoy the warmth. he loves you so he lets it slide.

“do you know how you hated that new shampoo I got? the coconut one?”

percy grimaces. he’d complained every second of the day after you tried it out. safe to say he did not like it at all. “awful soap…”

“well! I bought the strawberry one again. I actually bought three of them so I won’t run out for a while.”

“you… are an angel, sweet girl.” percy pushes himself impossibly closer to you, cupping your cheeks and kisses your wet forehead.

you stand up on your tippy-toes and peck his lips before pulling back.

you step to the side for a moment to grab said soap. with this chance, percy steps beneath the shower. when you step back so does he.

you open the cap of the bottle and extend it to percy. you let him smell it first since he has complained for soooo long.

“just as delicious as I remember.”

“happy you like it.” you squirt a portion into your hands before running it through your locks. percy takes the bottle and places it back upon the self.

when stepping back he watches/admires your current form. the way the water runs down your body, the one he has memorized both inside and out from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet.

and the way your hair cascades like waterfalls down your back as you rinse through the soap. and the hands he’d give you anything just to kiss for eternity and to hold and to let touch his very own suntanned skin.

suddenly percy wishes he had asked you to stay in med and partake in a second round of love making.

“sweet girl?”

“perce.”

you take a microscopic step back and pull him flush against you to stand beneath the shower. his hands gently find your waist.

he doesn’t say anything but continues to stare at you.

“you called for me? speak!”

percy shrugs. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

you can’t be mad at that. “well you’re hearing it firsthand.”

“and I’m savoring it.”

fundamentally impossible to be angry with this silly boy.

[margowritesthings]

The French Are Glad To Die For Love

A Bridgerton x Moulin Rouge crossover

pairing: Colin Bridgerton x ? word count: 2.1k words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, un-beta'd, mentions of sex, spitting, lots of debauchery authors note: surpriiise! i have been sitting on this since part 1, so to celebrate part 2 tomorrow here's my new mini-series! i have never written for Colin before, so i'm nervous, but i loved writing this.

i also need your help! i cannot decide if this mini series should be Colin x reader or a Polin fic, where Penelope is Satine. I have created a poll here for you to vote, so please let me know!

and as always, enjoy! it's been a hot minute since I last published, so thank you if you're still here.

Bridgerton Masterlist

The stars sparkle especially brightly tonight, the crimson lanterns guiding Parisians and tourists alike through the winding streets, and Colin Bridgerton stands in awe of it all. 

He’d read stories, heard tales of this place during long nights at Whites, but nothing could have quite prepared him for what lay ahead of him, a long string of lights hanging in the sky leading the way to his destination. 

The Moulin Rouge. 

A house of debauchery and sin, of freedom and truth, filled to the brim with bohemians and artists and beautiful women unlike anything or anyone he’s ever seen before. Even now, 30 feet away from the illuminated windmill, he can hear the music and the joy spilling out from the building. His senses are filled with the perfume of hundreds of women passing him by the minute, all with real, toothy grins he rarely has the pleasure of seeing back home. It is far too impolite to be so happy in London society. 

Colin steps forwards, his boots crunching against the gravel and his coattails flying in the breeze. His shoulders brush more wonderfully merry, positively inebriated partygoers on his way in, catching odd fragments of conversations that would have scandalised him and his whole family were he elsewhere. 

But he wasn’t elsewhere. He was here, in the city of love, away from anybody who had ever known the name Bridgerton. His clean slate clutched close to his chest, waiting to find out what will be written on it next, Colin feels the fresh air on his face for the last time before his life is changed forever.

The heat hits him first, a symptom he knew all too well of too many people packed into a small space. But unlike every ball he’s been to, this doesn’t feel claustrophobic or fusty. It feels alive. 

There is a feast for the eye wherever one looks. Burlesque dancers showing off stockings and garters by kicking their legs up, toes pointing towards the aerial hoops holding acrobats hanging from the ceiling. Gentlemen, if you can call them that in this state, wearing top hats, arm in arm with their glasses raised high, spilling their contents all over the wooden floor. 

The music blasts loud from each instrument the band masterfully pluck or blow or bang, but laughter and conversation buzzes amongst the melodies. It is a near overwhelming amount of joy, one Colin certainly could use a drink to wash it down with. 

If he could just find the bar…

Bodies fill his view, so entangled in each other it is difficult to tell where one starts and another ends. Frilly skirts flow over the knees of suits as ladies dangle from the necks of patrons, sharing cigars and passing around bottles of an unknown green liquid. Rosy cheeks as far as the eye can see, wether from too much of that green stuff or the exertion of all that dancing, Colin can’t be sure. Between them all, in tiny empty spaces, he can just about make out rows of bottles and glasses. 

Weaving through the crowd is like treading through water, but their energy and joy seems to rub off on him. There isn’t a dance card in sight, women choosing their partners themselves whenever they like with a freedom Colin isn’t sure he’s ever seen before. Is this truly what people are designed to be when they are free?

Eventually, his hands find the sticky wood of the bar, quickly lifting themselves back off it on instinct at the sensation. When Colin looks to his left, he sees a woman pouring a shot of liquor between her breasts, a man knelt below her waiting to lick it back up, and he quickly realises why the bar feels so tacky- every surface here seems to be host to someone’s revelry. 

“Welcome to the Moulin Rouge, monsieur. Can I get you a drink?”

Colin’s attention is quickly pulled by the welcome, his gaze snapping to a tall French woman dripping with red jewels that compliment her rich brown skin perfectly. She is captivating to be sure, deep hazel eyes commanding Colin’s attention, competing with the most incredible curls of hair he has ever seen. Ladies of the ton are welcome no matter their race back home, but Colin has never seen a lady allowed to wear her hair so beautifully natural before. The Afro framing her face has more tiny rubies that sparkle under the cabaret lights, and Colin is speechless. 

“I…uh, pardon me, Miss, I-“ he sighs, giving up entirely at his failed attempt at decorum, “Is it so obvious I have never been here before?” 

She laughs, gems twinkling as her head shakes with mirth. 

“Not at all, but most gentlemen who have been here before know to wear a top hat. And there’s that look in your eye…” 

As she speaks, she pours out one finger of the green liquor Colin has spotted a few times already, sliding it along the wood towards him. 

“Wonder. Drink this. It will help with the nerves.” 

Colin looks down, finding himself fascinated with a drink that seems to glow of its own volition. He has smoked blends and meditated with world weary travellers from across the globe, drank tea containing unknown substances that left him staring at blades of grass as if they held the worlds secrets, and yet this… whatever it is, seems to terrify him.

The barmaid laughs again, that melodic sound with the real joy Colin very much enjoys. 

“It’s only absinthe, monsieur. Loosens the inhibitions, relaxes the body…” she explains, pouring a second out for herself and lifting it to him as if to prove her credibility. 

“Santé.” He toasts to health.

“Amour.” She toasts to something far greater.

It leaves no room for argument, and all Colin can do is lift his own glass and tap it against hers. 

It burns his tongue, leaving a fiery trail down his throat as he swallows and tries not to cough and splutter. A bitter yet herby anise flavour fights with his taste buds and seems to seep straight into his mind, teasing at those tense knots that held him back from fully immersing himself here. 

When his eyes eventually reopen, he finds the barmaid beaming at him, unphased by her own potion. Rather used to it, if she shares a glass with every newcomer, he should think.

“Be careful, though, monsieur. Many a man has spent a night with the stuff and swears he fell in love with a fairy dressed all in green. Ruined him for any other woman for the rest of his life…” She speaks words that belong in fairytale, with a tone containing such severity Colin is inclined to take every single one of them as gospel. 

“I dare say I should be careful, then. I do not think this green fairy would want to join the rest of my travels when she can instead entice all of Paris’ men to sin…” 

The residue of the liquor smells just as strong as the full measure, which Colin tries to blink out of his senses when he puts the glass back on the bar.

Almost as if society itself had cleared its throat at him, Colin remembers himself, remembers just where he is. Undoubtedly the most unique establishment he had ever set foot in, but an establishment all the same. 

“I beg your pardon, miss, I seem to forget myself. How much do I owe you for the drink?”

She considers him.

“Hm,  the absinthe I think… for you, a kiss.” 

Colin, already pulling coins from his breast pocket, pauses, a little grin tugging at the corner of his lip. The francs clink together when they fall back to the bottom of his pocket, a long forgotten currency of the past. It’s a perfect reminder of just how different things are here, how easily walls crumble between strangers and connection is offered so freely. He has never kissed a woman he has not paid for back home, so afraid of getting too close to another in case they ruin each other. Here, a beautiful woman leans over the bar, offering her flushed cheek for him to softly press his lips against. 

And he does. 

And it is lovely. 

“If any more handsome men capture the eye of Mademoiselle Belle, I will surely be out of business!” A loud, hearty voice pulls Colin from one blissful moment back into the party.

He regards a rather large man, clad in a red tailcoat and stunning golden waistcoat. His top hat, near the same to all the other gentlemen in the room but somehow grander, tops wild orange curls that match a fantastic handlebar moustache. A true ring leader to this wonderful circus of debauchery Colin has found himself in. 

“Harold Zidler, at your service. Welcome to the Moulin Rouge.” 

“Colin Bridgerton.” He replies, offering a hand that Harold seems bemused at. Unsurprising, considering what passes for currency around here. Nonetheless, Harold shakes the offered hand. 

”I must say, your establishment is rather…” he hesitates, unable to find a word in any language he has picked up along his travels that quite captures the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps he could blame the absinthe, or the intoxicating hedonism he feels rooting its way through his mind, hidden in the brass notes from the band and thrown with each cancan kick of one of the dancers that surrounds him. 

Luckily, Harold seems well used to this phenomenon. 

“Isn’t it? And you have seen nothing yet! I assume you are not from around here?”

”It is rather obvious, I have been told.” Colin adds a glance to Miss Belle, who’s skirt frills bounce in the lights while she shakes up a cocktail. He adds, “London.” 

”Well, Monsieur Bridgerton, I promise you that what we have here in the Moulin Rouge is unlike anything you have back home in London.” 

Colin’s eye is caught again across the room, as a beautiful woman with blonde tumbling waves spits a drink into a man’s mouth. 

“I am inclined to agree with you there.” 

It truly is unlike anything back home. Colin has travelled across Europe and back again, seen incredible sights and met wonderful people. He has felt that ease that distance from London society and its unwritten laws and social rules that bind him back home can bring. He’s seen beauty and felt freedom and thought he might have found truth somewhere along the way, but it pales to whatever is contained within these four walls. 

In truth, it couldn’t be farther from London society.

”Just wait until you see my Diamond, Monsieur.”

… Perhaps not. 

Intrigue hits Colin as Harold pulls out a pocket watch on a brilliant gold chain. 

“Your diamond?”

”My Sparkling Diamond. The main attraction of the Moulin Rouge, my most sought after little chickee.” He speaks proudly, with a mist in his eye Colin normally finds on ambitious Mamas at grand balls, secretly trying to auction their daughters off to the highest rank. 

“I do not believe she is booked yet for tonight…” Harold adds, that mist darkening, disappearing, leaving a shiver stuck between Colin’s shoulder blades.

Not because this Diamond is a courtesan. Colin is hardly a stranger to the profession, and he bears no judgement. In truth, he admires the women he has been known to spend the night with, finding the courage of living outside society so freely quite brave indeed. No, that shiver came from Harold entirely, Colin just cannot figure out why. 

Harold excuses himself, though makes sure Colin knows to stay for the show, and Colin orders a whiskey on the rocks, insisting on paying in cash this time. Though singular in person, he has never felt less alone in his life. Looking around, there isn’t an empty chair in the house. If there were, there wouldn’t be room to put it down for all the dancers and patrons enjoying every ounce of the world they can. Music played straight from the soul ringing in his ears, Colin could make out every instrument. The lights dazzled in his eyes and the spot caught him every so often, lighting his drink up in his hand like golden ambrosia. 

And then, darkness. Silence. 

A single spot, though the mirrors scattered around catch the light and illuminate the faces of the people around him. Everybody is looking upwards, as if they all know she is coming. 

Even if he did know, Colin could never have prepared himself for what he saw when he looked up.

Who he saw.

The Sparkling Diamond, shimmering high on a swing hanging from the ceiling. 

The most beautiful, breathtaking, person he has ever seen. In any city, on any continent in the world. 

Crimson lips part as each and every person hangs on the breath she takes.

”The French are glad to die for love…”

don't forget to vote in the poll for your fmc!

[lesmisshippingshowdown]

Semi Finals Exit Polls - With Steal Points!

Hi all, now that polls have closed it's time for your updated totals with steal points included.

Reminder that steal submissions remain open until 19:30 this Wednesday, April 9th - there is a chance that the winner announcements WILL be delayed because #thismod has social plans that did not exist when I made the polls and I forgot to factor in this very important duty when making said plans. But in the interest of not messing you guys around, the deadline remains the same & any late submissions (even if it's by one minute - please plan ahead to avoid technical difficulties etc!) will not be counted.

Anyway, onto the number crunching you've all been waiting for:

Enjolras/Grantaire vs. Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta

Popular Vote Total: Enjolras/Grantaire (72.5%) vs. Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta (27.5%)

Total + Steal Points: Enjolras/Grantaire (89.5%) vs. Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta (10.5%)

Well, E/R nation, you didn't show up to the steal competition until this round but you've certainly shown up with a bang! Is this extended lead insurmountable for fanon's favourite throuple, or will the JBM fans pull something out of the bag over the next (checks watch) (sorry for being late) 46 hours?

Cosette/Éponine vs. Enjolras/Combeferre

Popular Vote Total: Cosette/Éponine (62.9%) vs. Enjolras/Combeferre (37.1%)

Total + Steal Points: Cosette/Éponine (50.1%) vs. Enjolras/Combeferre (49.9%)

Enjolras/Combeferre shippers have proven themselves to be formidable poll stealers in previous rounds, and this semi final is no exception - they have VERY nearly closed the gap to Eposette! But Team Eposette are no slacks either - although we've only seen a handful of steals from them this round, their gargantuan effort in the quarter finals means they are currently the overall leaders in steal points across the whole tournament. This is really a Stealers' Contest, and definitely one to keep an eye on as the final steals roll in tomorrow and Wednesday.

TROUBLESHOOTING

Regular reminder that if you're convinced you've posted a steal work but we don't appear to have counted it/it has not been reblogged here under the tag #semi finals steal then please follow the following troubleshooting steps:

Check that you do not have either mod (@lonelyroommp3 or @glindalesbian) blocked. As always, no beef and once the tournament's over you are free to block us again if you really hate us that much, but as this is a sideblog we cannot see anything you post or send to us if you've blocked our mains. We don't want to miss out on seeing your hard work because we've annoyed you in the past!

Resubmit your work and ensure you follow all three steps for visibility (tag it #lmss steal, @ this blog in your caption, and send us an ask or submission with a link to your post - try to break the link up if using asks to avoid tumblr eating the message!)

[princessofgotham777]

Nights Like These

Part Three

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, I don’t write smut

Hi I know fanfic can lowkey be cringy but sometimes you just have to accept joy, magic and fun yk. If you don’t like it then just move on don’t be rude😃😭. Of course I don’t own any Star Wars characters, this is purely fanfic. Sorry I haven’t added to my Jason Todd x reader or Dick Grayson x reader fics yet, I will eventually I’m just having a bit of a Star Wars era. Hope you enjoy!!!

Summary: You were kidnapped by a separatist spy, Anakin rescues you but now your love and roles in the Jedi Council and Senate are being tested.

Warnings: mentions of violence, stalking, readers injured

Anakin raced down the hall to the medical wing where he hoped you were awake and okay. When he got there he found you, eyes wide open, talking with Obi-Wan. “Y/N,” he says, rushing to your side. “How do you feel?”

“Better, Dr. 4CG said I’ll recover in no time,” you say.

“Anakin, what of the council?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Master Yoda agreed to my proposition to personally protect Y/N,” Anakin says.

Obi-Wan pulls Anakin aside and whispers, “are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“Her safety is crucial to the survival of the Jedi in the Republic,” Anakin says.

“Come on Anakin you and I both know that’s not your only reason for this,” Obi-Wan says.

“Excuse me, I’d appreciate if you don’t speak as if I am not right here.” You say. “Anakin?” You don’t even have to say the words for Anakin to know what question you are asking him.

“Obi-Wan knows of our love,” Anakin says.

You look at Obi-Wan, “well then you should also know despite our relationship my loyalty lies with the senators of Naboo and Anakin’s with the Jedi council. What Anakin did was a risk but his reasoning was not in spite of the council, it was to protect it through me.”

“I do not agree with the path you and Y/N have chosen Anakin. It’s against Jedi code for a reason but I will keep your secret, a war of chaos is coming for the galaxy and we need both of you to fight it,” Obi-Wan says.

“Thank you Obi-Wan,” you say.

“Thank you Master,” Anakin says.

“But any conflict of interest and I will hold you accountable Anakin,” he adds.

“I understand,” Anakin replies.

It had only been around eight hours since you’d been rescued, the clock struck 3 a.m. Once Dr. 4CG decided you could leave the medical wing, Anakin and you headed back to your quarters. You found a silk blue nightgown and began writing notes for a speech you’d make to the republic.

“Can’t that wait till morning my love, you should rest,” Anakin says as he pulls his shirt off, getting ready for bed himself.

“The lives of countless civilians cannot wait till tomorrow, if the senators vote wrong the republic will enact war on the separatists. I have to try to get as many opposing votes as possible,” you say.

“I understand but if you do not rest first you will not be putting your best foot forward,” he says. You know he is technically right.

“I’ll just jot down a few more ideas,” you say. “How did Obi-Wan react when you told him about us?” You ask, still writing.

“When I came rushing back here he sensed there was more to your and I’s relationship, although I think he’s suspected it for a while now. He said he’d only allow me to work with the guards to find you if I told him the truth so I did. I know I jeopardized your career, my place in the council, and our relationship, but it was the only way to get you back and I hope you can forgive me for betraying your trust,” he says.

“Oh Anakin,” you say finally putting away your notebook. “Of course I forgive you. I would’ve done the same if you were the one taken,” you say as you climb into bed with him.

“You always understand,” he says quietly as the lights fade away and the only brightness remaining is that peaking through the shades from the busy city. “When I heard you were taken I thought I’d loose you forever and that terrified me. I couldn’t bare to live in a world your not in,” he says.

Gently, you kiss him and say, “you might just be my guardian angel Anakin Skywalker.” And just like that he smiles softly and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Hi I hope you liked this fic!!! If you did and want to see more please like, reblog and/or follow. I appreciate any and all positive feedback, it helps keep me motivated to know people enjoy what I write. Here’s my Masterlist if you wanted to read the other parts of this fic and or check out my DC fics. Thanks for reading🩷

Masterlist

[a-loose-collection-of-ants]

Ok. Shit.

I get the feeling I'm not gonna sleep tonight, and who knows, I might regret this tomorrow but I need to get some thoughts out.

I've tried to retain this idea that most people are inherently good. Some of this is the remnants of whatever religious faith I was brought up in, and some of it is just what I tell myself to stay sane. It's getting harder to think that way, but I am trying to hold on to it.

There's this image I keep replaying in my head. My dad and I were visiting family down south shortly after he had wrapped up his cancer treatment. We stopped by my aunt's house in South Carolina, and she told me with tears in her eyes about how she had started gardening again after my dad's diagnosis. There was a Trump flag flying from her roof.

On another visit to the same family members, we were visiting a college and walked by a gender neutral bathroom. My uncle made some off-color joke about it and then quickly moved on when nobody laughed. My sister (a sort of closeted trans woman) looked at me with an expression of both deep sadness, and whatever face you make when you watch a bird fly head-first into a window.

My point is, I know these people aren't filled with hatred and malice. It's not constructive to waste your energy hating them when their greatest sin is ignorance.

I barely remember the Obergerfell decision, but I remember being in middle school around the time it happened. Attitudes towards queer people weren't great, but they changed so rapidly that I barely noticed. Maybe the fact that this was when I realized I was queer gave me a false sense of security when it came to the "moral arc of the universe", or maybe it's the example I have to hold onto about how fast things can change.

It's easy for people to fall into patterns of hate when they lack exposure, and the media landscape right now is making easier to avoid that sort of exposure. The basis of the fight against extremism is education, and I think it has to also be compassion.

Don't get me wrong, I also have family that are more than likely not worth the effort ("they" control the weather and all that), but those aren't most people. Most people are exhausted by politics. They see the price of groceries and vote for the other guy regardless of who's name is on the ballot. Or they're like a classmate of mine, who didn't really like either candidate and was having trouble just voting for the "better" one.

If anything, I guess this is a reminder to myself to hold on to empathy despite everything. It's fine to feel angry. Hell, it's probably good if it gets you moving. But we cannot respond to dehumanization with more dehumanization.

I'm not really all that religious anymore, but I hold on to some things. One of them is this: All things, by virtue of being crafted by God's hands, have value. Or, as my dad said it "God don't make no shit". This goes for yourself, as well as everyone else. I can't let myself lose that right now.

I don't want to belabor my point too much, but I do want to say that I saw people saying things like "it's all over if trump wins". I'm not going to lie, it's bad and people are going to get hurt and die because of this. America was waiting for the results of it's biopsy and we found out it's cancer... but we're not dead yet. I don't have a specific action I can advocate for, but please, don't give up. Authoritarianism is a longstanding wound on this country and it festers in apathy.

Take a deep breath. Regardless of what happens, time moves forward and the sun will rise in the morning. I am going to go to work, make some dinner, and hopefully find some way to work volunteering into my schedule.

Recommended listening if you want to cry right now

[girlactionfigure]

NEW FIGHT SONG FOR ISRAEL 

(the translation is theirs and doesn't convey the entire complexity of the ideas but gives a good understanding of Hebrew lyrics)

It's On Us

by Subliminal, The Shadow & Raviv Kaner

Good evening, Gaza, another day, another dead Nazi 

Nova 

People are on the beach, Golani Brigade is in the parliament 

There saying to Yahya Sinwar Yeah… we've seen war 

Boom bye bye bitch your time is over ! 

Firecracker and thunder, I come like lightning (Barak) 

Not Ehud, not Aharon, not Obama - the tank! 

Brothers do not wait for the call of duty to put on the uniform 

Lions and lionesses enter on tigers (IDF armed vehicles) 

My sentences are arrows intercepting thoughts 

Every word is a Bull's Eye, every letter between rifle sights 

They hear the explosions, they run to their rat holes 

Jumping into the shafts, burying the scumbags 

Two grenades, RPG, Fajr Missile Zig, fire fire fire, target ID 2-3 launch.... 

Boom, everything is accurate and fatal you ask for “Fauda” well, this is your end! 

Even when the heart is broken 

Always know tomorrow will come 

And the hope will rise from the ashes It will grow, it will come, it’s on us 

From now on I swear I’m fighting for the next generation 

Even if the road is long 

We will not forget, we will not forgive, It’s on us. 

I was forged in blood a shadow of a man 

The feelings of revenge burn hot in me 

Drums of war and also the heart beat “Ra-pa-pam” 

Women and children melted into coal 

Doesn't give me rest, I’m awake I cannot fall asleep 

The crying, the fear, like the end of the world 

Looking at the children and suddenly I'm there I’m asking God to take me in their place. 

I am a fighter - I am a fighter I am a hunter - I am a hunter 

Not afraid - not afraid 

To die alone – One God 

I am a lion - I am a lion 

And they are sheep - they are sheep 

I am a predator - I am a predator 

They are being hunted - there are no survivors 

You can't break my spirit 

You will not crush the soul 

You will not rape, you will not murder, you will not burn our hope 

Not a cowardly little Jew with quivering knees 

A Jew with firepower, smoke and swords 

It is the God of vengeance in the name of souls 

No, I have no mercy and you have no forgiveness 

Prayers will not help you seed of Amalek 

There is no forgiveness for swarms of rats, they will die in their ratholes 

Even when the heart is broken 

Always know tomorrow will come 

And the hope will rise from the ashes It will grow, it will come, it’s on us 

From now on I swear I’m fighting for the next generation 

Even if the road is long 

We will not forget, we will not forgive, 

It’s on us. 

So now we understand, we are all one, we are all together 

Same boat, hell ya this is the situation for better or for worse 

No matter who you voted for, we are all as one, no matter what your origin is nor religion. 

It’s cloudy now, but there is still hope, the light hasn't gone out 

Guarding our home, guarding our heart and our families 

Sanctify life, sanctify goodness, sanctify love 

Protecting the children, the future and joy 

When logic ends, then faith suddenly begins! 

How will you be able to learn if you can't remember? 

How will you defeat the darkness if you run away from the light? 

This is the time for improvement, this is the time for action 

So be prepared for the flood because this is the generation of redemption! 

Oss - the order of the hour is reconciliation 

Oss - suddenly my brother with the Streimel enters the recruiting office 

Oss - and our brother who was demonstrating on Kaplan Street comes to the synagogue again 

The future of all our children depends only on our homeland, 

And there is no other! 

Even when the heart is broken 

Always know tomorrow will come 

And the hope will rise from the ashes It will grow, it will come, it’s on us 

From now on I swear I’m fighting for the next generation 

Even if the road is long 

We will not forget, we will not forgive, 

It’s on us.

Forest Rain Marcia

[emmedoesntdomath]

no, I can’t treat this as a joke. sorry for raining on your metaphorical parade, but this is the eve of the potential burning of my entire parade to the ground. balloons, crowds, shitty music. I may never be allowed to have a parade again. that’s not desperately overdramatic, that’s the reality I’m facing. I cannot find it within me to laugh off all that I stand to lose- all that WE stand to lose-, even if I believe we might have already lost. don’t stand by. don’t wait for some stupid meme to tell you that you could have done something, but chose not to because you decided you didn’t care. please vote tomorrow. please.

[lantur]

updates,

Cannot wait to vote for VP Kamala Harris for President in November. :)) I feel excited and energized about the direction the Democratic Party has taken, and I haven't felt that way in years. She has my full support. I'm looking forward to a 2025 without another Trump presidency and without Project 2025. I'm looking forward to Donald Trump fading from the national consciousness and news cycle after almost 10 years.

Have been listening a lot to Eminem's new album and loving it. ❤️

Stressed :(( because of attending a big all staff work conference in Denver from tomorrow through to Sunday. I'm usually only out of town for my work conferences for one night, two max. The days are also scheduled so fully that we have agenda items from 7:30 AM - 8:30 or 9 PM. I've talked to several other introverts at the organization that are stressed about the long days too. Not thrilled about giving up half my weekend either.

Have been sad because one of my best friends, who is very special to me, is moving out of state soon. We'll have to transition to long distance friendship, and I'll really miss seeing her every week.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #325

I'm definitely going to need to send my laptop away to get the screen replaced; it has seen much better days:

It's still kinda holding together. But there are lines of dead pixels on the bottom left side, so I imagine it's only a matter of time before the screen goes completely kaput. Lame...

I wasn't nearly as productive today as on previous days. I think doing all that cooking and all those dishes really pissed off whatever's wrong with the upper right quadrant of my body (at this point, I suspect serratus posterior superior dysfunction of some kind...). When I went to PT today (weird day of the week for it, I know...), the trapezius and the rhomboids on my right side got mashed up, and now the whole area is super pissed, and it's kinda hard to move or breathe or do anything.

On the bright side, I did get to talk with that Canadian immigration lawyer today. I'll tell you all about him, but after I get his permission to do so in this space.

Still, I have the first few steps of the process of getting out of here outlined. First, we have to take an English test called an IELTS, and also get our academic credentials evaluated by a Canadian company of some kind, in order to make sure they're up to snuff for Canadian employers.

Well, as it turns out, we cannot take the IELTS without passports. And, though J and I have ours, M's expired over a decade ago, so we had to go to an appointment to get a new one. It's not going to get to our house for another 6-8 weeks, though. We'll have to wait before we schedule the test. But we should be able to get our academic credentials evaluated. I'll look into that process tomorrow.

...I forgot to eat for most of today. Before leaving for physical therapy, I did stuff a couple slices of cold cuts into my mouth, but that's hardly substantial. My appetite has been kinda weird these last couple days. At around 7pm or 8pm, though, I remembered that my body needs fuel. So I made a salad:

It's got mixed greens, tomatoes, onions, black beans, goat cheese, scrambled egg, and crushed Fritos in it. And then I put ranch dressing on top. Want some...?

I made some tea to go with it; that vanilla bean macaron tea. Here:

...These aren't the best swirls, I know. I think the focus must have been off, and I didn't notice until it was too late. Sorry about that.

…

...I spent most of the rest of today just floundering, partially numb, and foggy of brain. I wanted to play Oddworld, but... I just couldn't bring myself to. I wanted to doodle, but... I dunno. Even with a plan spelled out and things to tentatively look forward to, it's still kinda hard to think.

I guess I'm still a little sad that so many people voted for someone who wants to kill me and my little family and almost all of the people I love.

...I just... want to live a life in which everyone gets to be happy and safe. And I know that this could happen if everyone worked together, but there's so many different people with so many different kinds of trauma, and all of them have their own ideas about which kinds of people do and don't deserve to live (there's no such thing as a person who doesn't deserve to live). I wish for a world in which it was easier for folks to cast aside the conditioning they received that teaches them to associate the worth of themselves and of others with silly, arbitrary things.

We are all the same in that we want to live in peace with people we love. And given that everyone wants that, it shouldn't be so hard to do, but... a lot of people get taught that the only way they can live happily is if some other group of people defined by arbitrary characteristics didn't exist, and... I think that's really sad. It's really sad that some people truly do believe, for example, that the only way they can be happy and safe is if every single person with dark skin and every single person who was ever at any point related to someone with dark skin ceased being alive.

...I just wanna live someplace where we aren't near people who would be happy to kill us. I think everyone wants that. And this shouldn't be a difficult thing to find in my world, but... here we are.

...Well. One step at a time. We'll follow the immigration process one step at a time, and hope for good things. But... ya know. If there's any chance you can just “zoop” us all over to where you are... I certainly wouldn't be opposed. You could use the company. And I could use a nap.

No, I know; it's impossible. I know. But it's still nice to think about. I'll just keep making preparations to protect my little family, and I'll do whatever I can for the others around me in the meantime. I'll write the steps to the immigration process as we go through it; maybe it'll help someone else, somehow.

Suppose I'll stop writing for today. I feel like if I keep going, I'm gonna ramble on ya (if I haven't already). And I feel like I'm a bit too weird in the brain right now to express myself particularly well in any case.

Don't worry. I'm tired and feeling kinda sad and lost, but I'm not down for the count – not while I have people to protect.

Tomorrow is when M and I decided to celebrate our wedding anniversary this year. It'll be our 10th year of marriage, though we've been together for 12. I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. I can't believe he hasn't gotten tired of me yet, hahaha...

We're gonna go to a sushi place to celebrate. It'll be me and J and M all together at the place we ate on the day we got married. Maybe I'll tell you more about that tomorrow.

I love you a whole lot. And I'll write again tomorrow. So please stay safe out there, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

[ewesless]

Goof Up Poll #1

Who left their chocolate chips for baking cookies with on the counter top when the dishwasher was running and melted 1/3 or more of the bag?

Okay, I'm going to do something a little different with this one. Drabbles! I mean, definitely vote your vote, but hear me out?

Why Solomon? He's a disaster in the kitchen, but he also is going to add some cayenne and powdered goji berries for a kick and healthy superfood twist. SOMEHOW the bag of chocolate chips melted and turnes into a solid brick. Oh well chocolate melts and evenly distributes, right? Especially with a torch! It also adds a delightfully, extra crunchy texture to the thick, flavorful crust (I'm woefully unimaginative compared to the Magic Master Chef :( These abominations would be safely removed by a stab happy, hazardous materials disposal specialist named Raphael.

Why Simeon? He's canonically a cute, old, out of touch ditz and enjoys cooking thoughtful recipes for his housemates. He would definitely keep some sweet snacky stuff like mini packs of M&M's or other hard shelled candies like Reese's Pieces as pick me ups and for Packed Lunches. So he would have a batch with cinnamon chips or butterscotch chips too. Apart from being specialized for the palate of the recipient he would put them in adorable bags with personalized labels written in his elegant script. Leviathan framed his tag, begged the others for theirs as rare memorabilia collectables and Mammon sold him his at a steep price...which he paid for on the spot. 6/7 SECURED. When he learned that Beel ate his which was devastating he demanded Beel regurgitate it OR ELSE. Fear the taste of his spicy newt chip dust fingers!!

Why Luke? Poor kid doesn't have his emotional regulation under control yet :( (I say as an old fart who doesn't either) He would be upset and also discover that the baking powder was expired and that the flour was contaminated by Solomon making his cursed pancakes so this was actually a blessing in disguise? Feeling unnerved but lucky he'd go to the store (with ??? as his chaperone, but I think he shops alone too?) and while there he would have a nice distraction by seeing inspiration for cupcakes or other little baked goods for next time. When he gets home he gets back into his groove and bakes a great batch of cookies! He calls his comfort friends and after a vent session he feels better and they suggest baking together. "How about Snickerdoodles?" He likes thick and chewy big ol' bakery style cookies.

Why Diavolo? There was a chat where he was part of a sleep away exchange at HoL (Lucifer wouldn't let him room with him 😓) and when he baked he had eggshells in it. He mistook salt for sugar and made perfectly spherical cookies in Nightbringer (they pair well with Demonus.) Diavolo's Salty Balls if Barbatos wasn't lurking nearby he would not think twice about eating the forbidden raw cookie dough and will pay the price for it tomorrow. If Barbatos was observing/teaching he would all of a sudden discover that his errors or mistakes would be magically fixed (Because sometimes Barbatos CANNOT ABIDE Diavolo making or learning from mistakes. He just can't help himself sometimes either, like a compulsion 😔) He likes crisp chocolate chip cookies, which is fortunate because that was exactly what he got.

Okay this one I have been waiting for. I am no better than the plot writers with Lucifer 😂

Why Barbatos? Barbatos does not have a dishwasher machine (he is the dishwasher) even as of OM (it was mentioned in a Sweets Masters chat that I forgot the name of 🥲) so imagine with me if you will that he was not aware that they radiate heat outside of the machine, not just in your face when you open it before the drying cycle is finished...

He has been enjoying THE HELL out of his new dishwasher this week. He's in a good mood, the Little D staff are miraculously well behaved despite now having 2+ hours freed up from no longer washing dishes by hand. Hm... (give them more breaks, please. Rest and recess is good for productivity, workplace rapport and emotional health.)

Today the Young Master's treat shall be his own recipe for Decadent Devildom Chocolate Chip Cookies.

While the ingredients are warming to room temperature he does the dirty dishes that were brought in shamefacedly by Little D no. 4 that he had hidden in the library while he was binge reading...5 days worth of them. That's forgivable because he now has an excuse to run his beautiful, large scale industrial dishwasher again! What he doesn't realize though is that it would heat the countertop. It melted his butter and chocolate chips.

Not missing a beat he melts the chocolate down in a double boiler and chills it in the refrigerator on a baking sheet (They had a refrigerator already. One mention is in the Barbatos chat that I forgot the name of with Diavolo's Opaque Mysterious Refrigerated Container) while it chills and the butter warms *properly* on a unheated surface. He goes and monitors Diavolo, anticipates that he may need to scold him. Surprisingly Diavolo is ahead of schedule! Inspection of the Little D's reveals that they have performed well above standard (because as stated R and R is goodddd) Wow....all is going well today!

The result is Chunky Chopped Chocolate Chip Cookies! Milk and Cookies for everyone to reward them for their hard work and a sweet happy ending!

Edit: Proofread your insomnia writing 6x. Better yet read it out loud! Or else you will be like me and gnash your teeth over forgotten words, disorganized sentence structure and typoes that you're still finding the next day and too tired to fully fix.

I love my super fun run on sentences and adjective overkill 😂 They make me oddly happy.

[thelordofgifs]

now i could abuse your offer and be evil and request a finarfin/eönwë fic but i'm giving you a choice. so either that or something for m&m of your choosing <3

yeah it literally took me 13 months to forgive you for voting against Eldacar in the semifinal. grudgingly, here is your bribefic.

The Herald was waiting when Finarfin slipped at last into his tent, bone-weary and bloody. Not so Eönwë: the years of campaigning and today’s bitter skirmishing alike had had no effect upon his radiance, the golden glow of his skin and the ancient Light before light in his eyes. Finarfin had never before seen his eerie calm so much as wrinkled.

“What were you thinking?” Eönwë hissed – or perhaps hissed was the wrong word. Say rather that his voice reverberated, that although he had not spoken very loudly at all the very inside of Finarfin’s skull seemed to have been set ringing. It was often so, with Eönwë. His presence was so overwhelming that Finarfin was growing to believe the Valar had made a tactical error in sending him to command their host – for how could any mere Elf stay focused on the great task that lay ahead of them when Eönwë was there to draw attention like a lodestar?

“I am tired,” he said. His own voice was very feeble in his ears, after Eönwë’s. “Might we not save the debriefing for tomorrow, when Ingwion joins us?”

“I am not asking for a debriefing,” said Eönwë. He stepped closer to Finarfin, or perhaps grew a little, or else the tent itself was shrinking around them. “Only to ask why exactly you waited so long to pull back after you had been wounded.”

“Speak not of my failure to me,” Finarfin said. His head was pounding, and his throat was dry with thirst. “Had I lasted but a little longer the hill would have been regained.”

“Noldorán,” said Eönwë. He was so close now to Finarfin that he filled his entire field of view, in all his golden-plated armour and sunlight-filled hair and the twin flames that were his eyes. “You could have died.”

Finarfin was acclimatising now to the near-pain of Eönwë’s voice, and the pleasure-buzz that accompanied the way it vibrated inside his head. His eyes had fluttered shut as the Herald spoke, and it took him a moment to realise that a response was expected of him.

“I did not,” he said. His tongue was numb and heavy in his mouth. “Die.”

Eönwë made some strange sound, impossible to interpret, and then put two or three of his arms around Finarfin at last, pulling him flush against that armoured chest. “Be more careful in the future, Noldorán,” he said, and Finarfin could not repress the little hum of satisfaction that rose up in him to hear that voice again. “I cannot bear to hear you have been wounded, and know not whether this time will be—” He broke off abruptly.

“No,” Finarfin half-moaned, his knees buckling. He thought his ears would pop from the sudden lack of pressure in them. Did Eönwë know how his every word caused Finarfin pain – and that his silence was agony yet greater? “Keep – keep talking, please, keep talking—”

But Eönwë carried him over to the narrow little bed, and brushed the bloodied hair off his face, and then kissed him deeply; and then at last Finarfin was still.

[talldarkandroguesome]

9th of Rain's Hand, Middas

Mother came to me late last night and demanded to look at my speech. She did not trust me to hit the points I needed to accomplish for whatever it was that she is hoping to achieve on her end. Or perhaps so that I would not support her rivals in some manner.

Yet, she seemed surprised by what I had come up with and said that I had actually offered some truly important remarks about what was needed going forward, even beyond the critiques of my rivals. There was almost a hint of pride in her voice as she gave her constructive criticisms.

I think she actually liked most of what I wrote. She offered some changes she believed would provide me a better chance at swaying some of the elder councilors and their sensibilities.

To be honest, her points were valid and I do believe that they improved the tone and strength of my arguments. I know that I can use my birthgift to help emphasize the conviction with which I deliver my remarks, but Mother's edits were of a kind that I think means she supports me.

Would Mother actually want for me to be the chosen representative? Would it help her political career for me to be selected? Or would it make her feel like my return was still useful to the House? Or maybe it is that she actually believes in me in some manner or another.

No, I cannot worry about all of that right now. I have to focus on the results when they are published tomorrow. I have decided not to bribe the results, for I do not want to cheapen the power of my arguments. I want to prove that I trust enough in what I said that I do not need to resort to any additional tactics.

So all that I can do is wait and see what comes of the vote.

At least Tel is here. A welcome distraction from the tension of all that is going on. I certainly need an outlet for all that is going on.

[hautmondehqs]

⋇ attention all! we have some good news incoming!

by the majority of votes, it seems like we'll be pushing forward with our reopening tomorrow on october 22 { kst }! all acceptances will be made by today so please keep an eye out for yours. if you are interested in joining us for the grand reopening, go ahead and send in an application! thank you for choosing hautmondehqs, the admins are beyond grateful for a second chance and we cannot wait to begin a new chapter with all of our precious vips! let's go on for a long time together ♡

[quantumcartography]

I know this isn't what anyone wants to read right now, but I need to gripe about the US election.

I also can't help but look at the global stage and see how much this is gonna fuck everything. It's going to kill so many people. He's gonna pull support out of Ukraine and give his buddy Putin the green light. He's probably gonna increase military funding to Israel and take kickbacks from arms manufacturers. And I cannot imagine that there aren't people China looking at the world and thinking about reclaiming their territory. International politics aren't my forte so I'm sorry if this is all just fear mongering but heaven help me if that's not what I see coming. So many people are going to suffer and die from this. It hurts to think about.

I know we all live in echo chambers but I guess I'm just disappointed to see him win the popular vote. Like that sucks. It's close sure, but still a simple majority. I see a lot of people arguing about why Kamala lost and the bad running she did and blaming people for voting third party or abstaining from voting and all that jazz. Which are fair to varying degrees. But I'm more vexed about why people voted for him. Misogyny? Racism? Or were most people just willing to excuse those things so they could stay in their party colors? Or were there some single ticket issues that mattered most?

Maybe I'm doom spiralling but I cannot help but think this is another marker on the road to civil war. Like it's no secret he's modelling himself after autocrats. And he knows if he leaves office again, he's a dead man. So, he just doesn't leave office. Which would be a blood bath. Reactionary violence, sanctioned police crackdowns, and of course, America being so large, not every state would accept it, military rolls in, etc. etc. Maybe I'm tilting at windmills but it doesn't feel like it.

At the end of the day, I'm just scared that a majority of the people in my state support someone who wants to dismantle my job. As a librarian, I rely on government funds. And his cadre wants to pull funding from any government funded group that has books it deems inappropriate. Maybe I just need to start learning a trade. Take up carpentry or plumbing or something.

I dunno. I'm fiddling between rage and depression. And I won't say I'm hopeless. My hope is there, buried in my chest, nursing her wounds. (Why is hope female in my mind?) I'm just gonna let her heal and wait.

If you're reading this, thank you for listening. I love you. I hope today is easier than yesterday. And I hope tomorrow is easier yet.

[bluefactories]

didja happen to vote by mail or absentee vote? CHECK IT'S BEEN COUNTED!!

I've been voting since my first presidential election in 2008 as a Texan that lives abroad

this is my 5th time voting absentee for president by mail, and I cannot actually remember how many times I've been organised enough to register beforehand for primaries / midterms over the years (Texas purges the rolls every January so you have to register by February for primaries cos fuck you, of course).

I pay to register to vote each time cos I send it tracked, because up until now it's been postal-only-FPCA-registrations until this the year of our lord 2024 in the great state of Texas and I pay separately to send my ballot (also tracked)

POINT IS

My ballot arrived on October 21st. Couldn't see the record of Me Actually Voting, so I called the elections office on October 24th and was told there was an error, wait for an email.

I waited.

Nothing.

For like a week.

I live OVERSEAS. If I have to pay a £60 to send a printed ballot off through GlobalExpress, I fucking WILL to try and get rid of Ted Cruz and cancel out someone's bullshit vote BUT THEY NEED TO TELL ME LIKE FUCKING NOW SO I CAN DO IT BEFORE THE DAMN ELECTION

so I called again and am engaged in phone tag & have had to Ask For The Manager and am waiting until open of day tomorrow for them to figure it out

to their credit, the elections department has escalated it and seem to be trying to figure it for me

but if I hadn't chased it up

my vote would be moot

so the pOINT IS: call your bastards

make sure they've got you on the 'i voted' roll if you;re too far away to get a cute sticker