#just voting will help me a TON

[icequeen-07]

Hi!!! Some context behind this: I am working on a proposal for my college writing class and I decided to write about green burials and why funeral homes should have more green burial options!

(to cremate one body, it would emit an estimated 418 pounds of carbon dioxide into the air. That is the equivalent of driving around 470 miles in a car. Just for one body)

I would really apprecaite any reblogs to spread this around just a tiny bit and please vote! It'll really help me with some data! Thank you so so much!!!

[ashes-onthewind]

for me i very very much want to, but a) I've never gotten to b) i have low blood pressure issues and don't know if it will fuck me up c) I'm deathly afraid of needles

[smowkie]

me watching an Australian show: this is good

me watching episode 5/7 of said Australian show: wait, this is Australian! they have spiders!

me watching the rest of the Australian show: please no spiders please no spiders please no sp

[ms-demeanor]

hi, hopefully this isnt a stupid question -- this is only my second election i'm voting in, and i'm a little confused about results. is it actually confirmed that trump has won, or is it just almost certain based on the counted votes? bc i know that provisional ballots (like mine) probably arent immediately counted, and there was that thing about votes needing to be verified because of signatures, plus to my knowledge the electoral college doesnt vote til december? i'm probably just grasping at an infinitesimal chance of things not being shit, but also i do actually want to understand and google is not helping :( if you can't explain no worries, you just seem to be knowledgable & willing to answer questions haha

This is absolutely not a stupid question.

So everything is currently pointing at what is most likely, not at what is 100% certain, but it's like 99% certain. There are still votes being counted, but in the states where the election has been called it has been called either because enough of the ballots have been counted that the remaining count wouldn't change the results, or that the area is historically so strongly in favor of one party that it's exceptionally unlikely that they'd flip the other way (for example, they're still counting california's ballots but you're more likely to get struck by lightning five times today than california is to flip red in this election). The places that have not yet been called do not have enough electoral votes for Harris to win the election.

The electoral college is exceedingly unlikely to flip their votes against the state/district vote; "Faithless electors" is the term for members of the electoral college who would vote against the vote they are committed to for their region. It was something discussed in both the 2016 election and the 2020 election and flipping the electoral college without winning the election was the motivation behind J6. As shitty and bullshit as I think the electoral college is, if you're going to have one and you're going to have the rule of law, you can't hope for faithless electors because what you're hoping for at that point is that the people representing you are acting directly against the choice of the voters.

I want you to listen to me. I have been voting in presidential elections since 2004. Presidential elections always suck. Who the president is does matter, and does impact your life, but you genuinely do not have a ton of influence over that so you can't let it throw you into despair and inaction, because we should be active and political and protesting the wrongs of the world even if your favored political party wins. Vote in local elections, work with your local community, and if your local community sucks too, work with online communities to both give and get support.

Whenever something like this happens, people pass around the Mr. Rogers quote about looking to the helpers. I like that quote. I think it's good, I think it's hopeful, I think it helps! But I also think that sometimes it's even more effective if you look for how to help. Who are you the most scared for after this election? Who are you worried about in your community or among your friends? What can you do that might make their life easier? What can you do to protect people like that in your community? What don't you know that might make you better prepared to help them in the future?

One thing that I think is a fantastic way to prepare to help is to either begin or continue learning a language that you don't know. I am working hard on my Spanish because I live in California and there are a ton of Spanish speakers here who I might be able to help. Is it directly aiding anyone right at this second that I'm practicing conjugation? No. But it might help someone who is being harassed by a cop, or who is unhoused and needs help, or who is being abused by an employer at some point in the future, and I can get myself ready to help. Learn how to use naloxone and pick up up an inhaler; you might not need it now, but it'll make you ready to help someone who does need it. Order free covid tests every chance you get, even if you don't need them, because then you can give them out to people who do need them. Plan B has a multi-year shelf life. Pick some up so that you've got some on hand if someone needs it.

Maybe there's nothing you can do right at this exact second (though if you are able to donate to gender affirmation fundraisers, border kindness, abortion funds, bail funds, etc., you can absolutely do that), but you can get ready to help someone who will need you someday.

[adumbdemon]

okay so there's a fuck ton of things wrong in this election that it's hard to believe he actually fairly won:

1- the 32 weird fake bomb threats called into democratic leanings poll places. which made them have to close fir over an hour

2-destroying ballot boxes again in dem leaning places. losing alot of votes

3- alot of people coming out and saying that their ballots were not counted because of weird reasons eg. invalid signatures, information that the vote counter couldn't have had all that from people giving evidence and it all leads to their ballots not being counted

4- all this happened after months of hinting from the Republicans of foul play

5- this all happened in swing states that have been won by Biden in 2020 aka democratic leanings places which is weird why would the errors only be on places where there is no granted win for Trump

6- trump has never won the public vote and then suddenly boom he does out of no where he has them, his polls before 5/10 were comically low compared to the end results and now he's somehow gaining every swing state not to mention that all his swing state numbers are at 50 and 51% why is this the only numbers repeated

7- the support shown for kamala in the rallies and online was huge even more than Obama himself how could she have lost this badly the math isn't mathing it wouldn't be weird if the support wasn't alot for her but it was astronomical she raised millions in only 100 days you can't tell me it isn't sus that she loses almost all swing states

8- Latino and poc votes for Trump. bro the number of poc people voting for Trump is crazy especially after all the racist remarks and comments you're telling me that most poc voted for him?? there is no fucking way

9- Elon musk giving 1 million$ to a voters in Pennsylvania which is according to federal law is illegal and nothing has been done about it

in conclusion this entire this is weird af it's all contradicting each other nothing makes sense and alot of these couldn't be just coincidences. CBS is currently accusing trump of cheating. I think a recount should happen at the very least, and there are way too many irregularities and anomalies to not investigate. this could be what gets him out of the race. there is a link being used to order the president for a recount :

please use the link. it is your right to question things use it. don't go thinking 'oh they aren't going to do anything it's hopeless why even try' no every voice matters we need as much as we can even if it doesn't work at least we tried, for the people that will have their rights stripped away for the suicide rates that skyrocketed in the past 24 hours do your best and let your voice be heard.

[ennabear]

hehehe haii :P quick roblox with sevika blurb, inspired by lyss and pluto who are my roblox family 🤎 this is stupid and silly hehe don’t mind me i just think old woman playing video game is funny. also mutuals add me on roblox my username is sevikasgf_real!!

general:

ok so first of all, it would take FOREVER for her to make an account 😭 she does not know how to make a username and she’d probably try to enter something like “tittysucker2000” and get mad that the system says it’s not appropriate. but after a while of her struggling to come up with something that isn’t censored, she’d settle for something cute (like ennasgf_real) because you got tired of her struggling and being annoying.

her avatar would be so fucking funny!! purple skin and a bob, some random shirt that she found for free in the catalog, probably a picture of someone’s dog or something. she’d end up clicking around too much and find a way to make all of her limbs different shapes and sizes but not know how to fix it, so she just embraces the look of her avatar.

if you bought her robux she’d very likely spend it all in one place… she’d see a random costume that she wants to buy and suddenly all of robux are down the drain…

she would get banned from voice chat INSTANTLY. ignores all of the warnings that pop up on her screen for not following the guidelines. it starts with a ton of quick suspensions and then she’s just permanently in vc jail.

SCREAMS at the little kids who bully her. is not ashamed to get in a little online scuffle in order to protect her ego. nobody is about to call her ugly or old or uneducated if she can help it… this, obviously, is how she ends up getting banned.

also she gets noise complaints when she plays. multiple. from you and her neighbors both, she just completely forgets about volume when someone says that she’s probably lying about having a wife… but it is a little bit cute to know that she’s doing it in your honor.

it would take her FOREVER to figure out voice chat. she doesn’t know how to do it off the top of her head, so she googles how to do it but can’t find a straight answer. goes running around the house in search of her passport because she thinks that’s what she needs but you’re just like “babe… enter your phone number and it’ll let you… that’s all you need to do…”

dress to impress:

playing with her would be so fun because she does not know her way around anything. you’d force her on to dress to impress and she’d be so lost. is not aware that there’s a time limit or a theme to follow. by the end of the round she’s still gray and her outfit is half finished and she’s like “what is it doing?? why is there a runway??? i wasn’t done with my outfit.”

the people in the chat would respond like “bruh what is this” or “oh!” to her outfit, but you’re there to back her up and vote her 5 stars anyways <33. but if they start to get too mean, she’ll force you to tell her how to use the chat and she’ll type something like “fuck you guys at least i have a wife” which of course comes out as all ####.

and when she sees all of the tags, she’d be like “what the hell?? i didn’t type that 😭” and you’d have to gently explain to her that it’s because roblox filters certain things you say, especially like “fuck you” and probably every other thought that came to her mind when she was typing it.

ofc you and her would both get first and second place because you vote each other 5 stars, even though her outfits are… well… you know… not the prettiest…

murder mystery:

if you thought her in dress to impress was bad, it gets WORSE. no matter how many times you explain to her the rules of the game, she is LOST, as well as every single synonym for confused in the dictionary. perplexed. puzzled. stupefied. dumbfounded. all of the above.

as an innocent, she’d probably just follow you the whole time, waiting until the sheriff kills the murderer or time runs out.

as the murderer, she’d probably tell on herself IMMEDIATELY. has her microphone on in voice chat and says “what does it mean that i’ll get my weapon in 10 seconds??” and she’s shot before the round even lasts half a minute. either that or she’d keep it to herself, but walk around with her knife out the whole time absolutely cluelessly. she probably thinks that others can’t see it, or maybe she can’t see it herself.

she’d be like “babe i’m so scared :( i wonder who the murderer is…” and she’s standing in front of you like 🤷🏽‍♀️🔪 LMAOOO

as the sheriff, she’d either shoot some random person who walks past her and die for getting it wrong, or she’d freak out and spam 100 different buttons while trying to shoot the murderer. she’s jumping and running around, screaming at the top of her lungs because she’s so scared, clicking her screen in every place but where the murderer is standing.

with others:

imagine jinx and isha existing in this universe, she’d drain her whole bank account on robux for the 3 of them 😭 but, and as much as she’d HATE to admit this, she actually really enjoys playing with them.

isha is still learning how to spell, so her and jinx would cackle at everything the poor girl types coming out as straight hashtags. especially when she’s fighting with someone, they’d both watch her get heated and absolutely smash her little fingers into her ipad keyboard trying to type things out, but then comfort her when she gets too frustrated to continue.

also, if isha ever gets hit with “you’re probably a 5 year old” from someone, sevika would be like “yeah, she is 😭” but jinx would stand up for her and type out PARAGRAPHS about how isha is so young and still better than whoever insulted her. jinx 100% has memorized all of the words that roblox flags, so she has no problem facing the hashtags.

they’re also such bad influences on your wife, they manage to convince her to buy more robux for them almost every week. you’ve caught her up in the middle of the night, phone sideways in her hand running around in a new game she’s found. you try taking your family out to dinner and they all just pull out their phones (isha, her ipad, still too young for a personal phone) and hop onto some new game jinx found. it’s adorable, yes, but definitely not the best habit she’s ever formed.

[ramshackledtrickster]

Merfolk au Arno, as voted upon on my Patreon!

I really appreciate the support and this was really fun to do and get out of the way 💖 I’m not super familiar with Arno’s character but my partner helped me a ton so thank you and shoutout mwagh

Some lore reasons for this species assignment:

Picked a lightning maroon clownfish bc while they do occur in nature, they’re mostly aquarium fish/bred as ‘designer clownfish’ but for the sake of the au he’s just this species by happenstance.

Thematically it’s bc he’s a little more ‘domestic’/was raised as a ward (low key a glorified servant from what I’ve been told).

He’s resistant stings and venom, and that’s kinda like. His capacity to put up with toxicity from other characters around him and that kind of bullshit i guess??.

He’s a highly mutualistic guy (with a fondness for cnidarians). He depends on that kind of bond to survive, and his arc with Elise is like that kinda,, but it’s fated to not to be in canon (clownfish can’t survive well outside of their reefs and rely on symbiosis, Elise would be epipelagic and much more independent)

Good parental instincts !! I don’t know much about the dead kings dlc but I heard despite his conflicts with Léon he does pull through and protect him in the end. Clownfish are particularly good and attentive fathers towards eggs, protecting and fanning them

For those of you who are on my patreon, you might know who my next merfolk au character might be!! Once again, I really appreciate the support (and feel free to check it out if you’re interested !!)

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life

Sophia Loren (Marriage Italian Style, Houseboat)—Major Italian star, first actress to win an Oscar for a performance not in English (for Two Women (1960)) and later when Roberto Benigni won an Oscar in 1999 he jumped over the chairs towards the stage going "Sophia Sophia!!" because he was running towards Sophia Loren and said he cared more about her than the Oscar, that's the effect she had on people. She was big in the 60s already even though she gained a lot more notoriety after that. And I mean. Can we take a moment and just.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Sophia Loren:

She has maxed out all her stats: beauty, elegance, sensuality, she's got it all. her mesmerizing eyes, her sensual mouth, her sharp face shape, her everything is so striking and unlike any other beauty in films. she was also voted the world most beautiful woman when she was freaking 65

im submitting her in honor of my dad bc she was the first celebrity crush of his he ever admitted to me and my sister :) and he was right. shes so pretty

OSCAR WINNER. Worked with some of the hottest leading men in Hollywood but remained faithful to her husband whom she had a loving marriage with till he died (even though Cary Grant almost tempted her once, it's complicated)

One of the most well-known sex symbols of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and unlike some unfortunate others, she seems to have been pretty well at peace with occupying that status. She made assertiveness and a tempestuous temper seem glamorous, and although she's famous for side-eying Jayne Manisfield's cleavage, honestly? She's one to talk.

Absolutely, drop-dead sexy, also a hard working, extraordinarily talented actress who didn't shy away from the less glamorous roles to gift us some gritty, memorable performances

Submitting this on behalf of my dad, who knows nothing of tumblr or this blog, but I remember being a kid watching Houseboat while my mom thirsted after Cary Grant, dad thirsted after Sophia Loren, and I was excited that they lived on a boat. Anyway, she's extremely beautiful and was an international star, doing a ton of movies in Italy before being recognized in the US.

JUST LOOK AT HER Y'ALL

Very smart and beautiful, the characters that she played (I mean those in the movies that I put in the previous question) are as strong and determined as her which I think adds to her hotness.

Global superstar and my late grandfather's long time movie star crush and for a man as quiet as he was, and as hopelessly devoted to his wife as he was, the fact that I know that means she was EXCEPTIONAL.

Big in the chest, snatched in the waist, pretty in the face 😳

Sexy, beautiful, deep. A real star.

Her performance in "Man of La Mancha" is just so very captivating. Dubbed as "the Italian Marilyn Monroe", she looks beautiful in any movie and at any age.

Forget the exotic sexpot of her Hollywood films and go back to her Italian career: sparking with Marcello Mastroianni as the woman who drives him mad and outwits all his fumbling attempts at macho posturing in their early films, and showing a tender side in their 1970s films. Sophia isn’t self-conscious about who she is or her beautiful body: she enjoys being herself and she wants us all to enjoy ourselves too.

She starred in films as a sexually emancipated persona and was one of the best known sex symbols of the time. She is a great cook and her filmography is immense.

On the misattributed quote that Sophia owed everything to spaghetti: 'Did you actually say the quote frequently attributed to you, "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti"?' "Non è vero! It's not true! It's such a silly thing. I owe it to spaghetti, no, no. Completely made up."

Marlene Dietrich:

ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face

its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies…. most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.

First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you.

Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything

“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”

The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender

"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”

"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."

"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."

Gifset link

"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."

"would you not let her walk on you?"

[sirfrogsworth]

Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

[drdemonprince]

what was your journey from libertarian to leftest/anarchist like?

well, as a teen i hated authority and society and wanted complete freedom so i was a libertarian. then i realized i was gay and trans and libertarianism weren't gonna do shit for me. when obama won in 2008 i noticed that i felt relieved, even though i had not voted for him. I went away to academia shortly after that, and became surrounded by liberal people, all of them doing research with a liberal point of view, and what do you know, product of my social environment and queer and desperate for acceptance among the group that said they cared about me, I became a liberal too.

over time academia mistreated me and rejected me for who i really was, and i started to transition and realize that i was disabled. i became more left-leaning frankly because it seemed like that was the only way to be able to survive as what i was, identity wise, and find anyone at all who would correctly gender me or tolerate me. if you want to be able to hang out with other trans people and have them treat you right, there are values you basically have to say that you subscribe to. anyone who didn't subscribe to those political values was mistreated, viewed skeptically, talked to like they were dumb, and ostracized. and some of those values did make sense to me, whereas others didn't.

i saw people pushed to the social margins for being libertarians, for instance, as if that is a political ideology that carries any danger when some random trans woman with a very weak social support system says in a support group that she maybe kinda subscribes to it. i was even terrified of people finding out that i used to believe in anything "wrong" according to the social dogma, for a while. but i tried to make the most sense of the confusing tangle of community held beliefs as i could, so that i wouldnt be completely ostracized from both straight and queer society at once. and so I was vaguely leftist, but with a confused understanding of systemic oppression based on identity (among lots of other things, like abolition and anti-colonialism), and a deep terror of ever saying anything that would ever get me criticized/cancelled/viewed as a bad person.

and then the pandemic happened and i wasn't so beholden to mass community scrutiny anymore. i read a ton i looked at how politics actually plays out, and i got a little bit more capable and secure in myself and came to similarly feel awed by how much people are really capable of when they aren't being controlled or dependent upon approval in order to survive. and anarchy basically asserted that it had always been there in me, i just hadn't known the name for it. and by then i felt safe and strong enough and had enough faith in others to decide it was okay to have opinions that others disagreed with, and that i wouldn't starve out in the cold if i gave voice to them.

like a lot of people, i had misconceptions about what anarchism really was and writers like Graeber, Wengrow, Solnit, etc really disabused me of that notion and made me understand that it wasn't a scary worldview at all, it was the most human and accepting one there really was out there.

My political journey has not been especially principled or philosophical, it has been emotional, intuitive, and rooted in a lot of social influences. i think that's what most political ideologies are about for people, ultimately, belonging and safety.

I was originally a political scientist by training and in that field's body of research we see that most people do not have consistent political belief systems, they agree to a mish-mosh of statements and support various policies that don't all add up in a logically explicable way. they also don't tend to have stable views over time. just as i think morality is a pretty bad explanation of why humans do what they do, and why we help eachother and avoid doing harm, it's very evident that political ideology is a piss poor predictor of political behavior or affiliation. the far clearer explanation far more consistent with the evidence is that people politically align themselves based on their social milleu and their feelings.

this is why i always feel myself holding back from dying for a cause, and blanch when MLMs start talking about needing to do all they can to bring about communism with an almost religious fervor (beyond the fact that such thinking also doesn't line up with a lot of communist thought and theory about how capitalism falls anyway). i dont think that any of these ideologies really carry all that much weight or influence people's actions, affiliations, or political behavior on the level we all pretend that they do. i dont think they're "real". anarchy is more of a philosophy of how to relate to other people in daily life, for me, rather than a religion about how the world needs to be or where we specifically need to be heading. it's more big-I Ideological for plenty of other people, and again, i blanch when they start preaching about it as if their whole life is in service to the idea of it. I think we do anarchism by living as if we're free, every day. and that's what i care about, if i'm being honest. feeling free, safe, and cared for by some other people, without conditions, right now.

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt.5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: cursing

WC: 4.0k

A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)

The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.

This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.

The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.

“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.

“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.

“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”

She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.

She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.

“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.

You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.

Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”

“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.

“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.

“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.

With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.

You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.

Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?

A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.

You: 5:30

You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?

Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.

You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.

Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?

You: I am

You: sent an image

You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.

Jessie Fleming: sent an image

The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You: Why are you in bed this early?

You: Do you sleep shirtless?

You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.

Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask

Jessie Fleming: But yes

Jessie Fleming: Most of the time

Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.

Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.

Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.

The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.

You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable

You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.

Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.

Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.

You: you’re the one texting me

Jessie Fleming: shhhhh

You: 🙄

You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.

A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.

Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)

When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.

“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.

“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.

“Jessie, we can’t.”

“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.

“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.

“Just before 9.”

“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.

“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.

Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.

“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.

“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.

“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”

“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.

“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.

“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”

“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”

“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.

Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.

“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”

“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.

“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.

“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”

You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.

“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.

“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can’t help yourself.

Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.

“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.

“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.

“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.

“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.

“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.

You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.

“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.

“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”

“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.

“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.

“What?”

“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.

“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.

“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.

You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.

“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.

“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.

“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.

“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.

“I guess,” she shrugs back.

“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”

“I know.”

“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.

“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.

“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.

“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.

“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.

“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.

“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”

“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.

“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.

You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”

“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”

“I won’t.” You interrupt.

“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.

“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.

“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.

“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.

“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.” The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.

“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.

Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..

So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.

[qqueenofhades]

I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to argue with people about the worthlessness of voting third party. They just keep insisting that the influence is worth it, and that I was a coward for daring to suggest that we don't HAVE any other options than Democratic. I even cited how voting third party likely played a part in Al Gore losing ffs.

There's no "likely" about it, Ralph Nader DID directly cost Gore the election. He ran explicitly on the same "both parties are the same, so leftists/liberals should vote for me instead" rhetoric that we are still seeing among the Online Left, and it was successful: he got, for example, over 97,000 votes in Florida. Bush won Florida (and thus the presidency) by a miniscule 537 votes, after the fuckery of Bush v. Gore and SCOTUS ordering the recount stopped in Bush's favor. If the tiniest percentage of those Nader voters had gone for Gore, we would have had a president who was arguing in favor of tackling climate change in the year 2000. We would have been incredibly ahead of the curve. We would, in all likelihood, have a president who took the CIA's warnings of an impending al-Qaeda attack in the US seriously. We would not have had the disastrous Afghanistan and Iraq invasions and the "War on Terror," the rampant Islamophobia, "No Child Left Behind," the 2008 economic crash, and everything else that Dubya and his band of bloodthirsty neocons inflicted on us in the early aughties. Look, I try not to look back too much, but having Gore instead of Bush as president would have reshaped the entire timeline we're living in to such an unfathomably better degree that every moron thinking of voting third party For The Protest should be sat down and forced to learn this history intimately. Of course, they already saw it happen in real time in 2016, but they didn't care about that either.

The good news is: there are plenty of persuadable voters out there, and you can do work to reach them and convince them to vote for Democrats! They're just not online, because all the Online Leftists are terminally brain-poisoned against voting anyway and trying to argue with them is generally a waste of time. Instead, what you should do is take a gander at the following links:

This is the one-stop shop page for volunteering to get Democrats elected. You can do in-person and remote work, there are tons of different ways to get involved (i.e. you don't have to go directly out and knock doors if that's not something you're comfortable with), and your local Democratic party will welcome the volunteer help. There is also a page for finding your state party website:

I went there, clicked on my state, opened the webpage, and there was a "Volunteer" link right in the header, with an easy and quick form to fill out to register your interest and explain the kinds of work you would be interested in doing. You can canvass directly, you can manage data on the back end, you can phone bank, you can send texts and postcards to voters who may need an extra nudge, you can otherwise work with your state party in lots of ways, and it will be so much more productive and make you feel so much better than arguing with online idiots who will never, ever change their minds. What you can do is reach out to voters in your own community, in your own state, and have conversations with people who actually ARE willing to listen, but might need a little more educating on the facts, what's at stake, the truth about this election, and the danger that Trump poses. All of this will convert into critically important Democratic votes, and you can actually put your desire to make a difference into action. So yeah. I would 100% suggest you do it this way instead. Good luck.

[phoward89]

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: Coriolanus doesn't do feelings, but he finds himself comforting you during a breakdown. A breakdown that you had because you were voted to be the female tribute for District 12 during the First Quarter Quell.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus,mentions of blood, cussing, um that's pretty much it

Story Masterlist

Chapter 6:

After sharing a deep moment with Coriolanus over poisons, you helped him out of his sitting chair and towards the direction of his room- your shared room. He gruffly protested, saying that he didn't need help.

But you insisted on helping him. His large frame felt frail as he leaned on your side, his arm draped over your shoulder as he let out painful, bloody coughs.

Looking up at him, you sighed. “I don't want to risk you falling out before reaching our room, Coryo. Just let me help you.” His icy eyes bite into you, so much conflict in them. You felt heavy under his stare, as if a ton weight was being pressed down on you. “You help me; I help you.” You told him, breaking the heaviness in the air. “You said I belong to you and that you’ll protect me, won't let anything hurt me again. Well, it works both ways, Coryo. You belong to me too; I have to take care of you too.”

Your words touched him, made any fight he had against your help disappear.

Coriolanus wasn't used to having a woman dote on him with gentle care. No, he hasn't had that in years.

Not since he returned to the Capitol from his time serving in the peacekeepers in 12. Tigris grew cold to him upon his return; never showed him tenderness again.

Locked up right in the back of his mind were the cherished memories of his mother cuddling him and singing him loving lullabies. Coriolanus lost her too soon when she died during childbirth with his baby sister.

That loss, although he acts like he's gotten past it, haunts a part of his soul. A part that he's forgotten long ago.

But with your tenderness and care towards him. Worrying about his well-being. Well, it made him realize that he’s touch starved and needs a woman's softness to comfort him, to soothe his demons.

“Well, Y/N, it looks like we'll just have to take care of each other then since, as you pointed out, we belong to each other.”

Are you ready to take care of a man? An older man with needs, with a sexual appetite? A man who has no moral compass? Who’ll drag you down to hell with him?

Ready or not, it's happening.

You're taking care of Coriolanus Snow; you're his til the day you die now.

Your soft words and concern filled actions sealed your fate.

“Come on, let's get you settled in bed.” You told your man as you guided him down the hallway. Secretly praying that Coryo wouldn't collapse before you could get him into bed. Because if he fell on the floor, well…he'd be staying there because you couldn't pick him up.

“You’ll be joining me, darling.” Coryo stated, not asked, as the door to your shared room got closer.

“Yea.” You nodded. “But between your bloody coughing and my nightmares, I don't think we'll get much sleep.”

“Then, my darling rose, we'll just rest, side by side, until we can't fight off our sleep any longer.” He said, his timbre deep, but smooth, as you opened the bedroom door and helped him steadily walk into it.

Sleep didn't come easy to you or Coriolanus.

His body’s convulsing with painful, bloody coughing fits while you refuse to sleep, your stubborn fear ruling over you.

You're too afraid of what you'll see once you close your eyes. You didn't want to relive your time in the arena; that seemed to happen every time you tried to sleep.

So, the only solution was to keep your eyes wide open as long as you could.

Since Coriolanus was coughing badly, spitting up blood and struggling to breath, he was laying by the edge of the bed with a small trash can by his side. You placed it there, after helping him strip to his boxers and settling him in bed, so he could use it to spit up blood in. You figured it'd be easier than him soaking thru hankies or struggling to make it to the bathroom to hack up blood.

This meant that you weren't sleeping next to him, like you did last night.

No.

Instead, you were on your side, looking out the large window while a considerable amount of space was between you and Coryo. You didn't want to bother him while he was coughing, plus you didn't want to be so close to him. You wanted, no needed, some breathing room.

After all, you’re still reeling from the games whether you want to admit it or not.

As you listened to him cough, shifting in bed to grab the small waste basket to spit up blood in, your mind drifted off to the day that the twist of this year's games was announced.

A cold, harsh winter day in January...

The Hunger Games are being held in a few short months and it’s your last year eligible for the drawing since you’re 18. You've been lucky that your name has never been called during these last few years. Your brother claims that the Gods (he found an old book series in the ratchety shack of the district 12 library and got into the mythological religion and lore in them) have something big planned for your life. Unlike Rein, you weren't a big believer in mystics, fate, or the Gods’ plans, but you did feel like you were meant for more than life in the depressed, cold, muddy coal district.

Your teachers at the high school felt that you were smart enough to qualify for training as a teacher or an internship at the apothecary once you graduated in a few months. You talked over your options with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, only to decide that you'd like to intern at the apothecary.

They even encouraged you to approach the Ashberry Apothecary and ask for an after school job. They said that since you were the smartest girl in school that the Ashberrys would be foolish not to consider giving you a job cleaning up the shop, let alone the internship come early summer.

So, you listened to your family and approached the Ashberrys about an after school job cleaning their shop and what not. And, to your joy, they hired you.

Well, Mr. Juris Ashberry hired you. His wife, Belladonna, didn't want you in her shop because she didn't want you around her son, Valerian ‘Val’. She thought that you might try to wiggle your way into his heart (and bed) to get out of the Seam and into the Merchant Sector.

Little did Mrs. Ashberry know, you could care less about her son. Val wasn't your type. He just didn't appeal to you.

He just seemed…you dunno…nice, but snotty. Like, he'd talk to you in the apothecary, but out on the streets in public he wouldn't be caught dead talking to you.

Yea…not your type…

You were sweeping up the floor in the apothecary while Val was leaning behind the counter, bored. Mr. and Mrs. Ashberry were out and about checking on patients in town, leaving just you and their son to watch the shop.

“Your shadow's coming up the bend.” Val warned, pointing to the shop window.

You looked up, only to see Corbin Everdeen, in that god awful sienna sweater his Auntie Maude Ivory knitted him, making a beeline to the shop. His bright, baby blues were locked onto the shop. It seemed like that was the only thing on his mind.

You internally groaned, not wanting to deal with your neighbor. You let him wear you down yesterday about listening to a new song he was writing.

It was called My Mother Told Me and was, basically, about acquiring a boat and sailing away to a distant land. You liked the guitar melody, but not the lyrics since it was literally the same few phrases repeated over and over again.

He didn't take your criticism well; chucked his guitar at your cat and stormed back to his house at the end of the street.

His Auntie Maude Ivory came over minutes later apologizing and asking for his guitar back.

Rein gave her the guitar back, but told the widow that her nephew wasn't welcomed back into your house. That he didn't appreciate her nephew trying to murder his sister's cat by throwing a guitar at it.

“He's not my shadow, Val. He's my neighbor.” You sighed, dreading the moment that Corbin reached the shop.

“Lock up the shop when your done sweeping up. I'm heading to the square for the mandatory group viewing of the games announcement being held in a few minutes.” Val told you before pushing himself up and away from the counter.

Oh, yea, that was today. You totally forgot that all of Panem had a scheduled mandatory viewing of an important message from President Ravenstill about the games today.

“Okay.” You simply nodded, sweeping the floor as the young man with cornsilk hair went over to the door.

You heard the bell ring, indicating that he left. You saw him walk away from the shop, only to cross paths with Corbin. They stopped for a minute, only to exchange a few polite words, before going on their own ways.

You were almost done sweeping whenever the doorbell chimed. “You almost done? I thought we could walk to the square to watch the announcement together.” Corbin asked, standing in the doorway.

Why he didn't walk further into the room, you didn't know. You thought it was weird how he's just standing in the doorway, staring at you as if he's trying to imagine what you look like underneath your dress.

God, Corbin's only 14 ½, he wouldn't be thinking dirty thoughts about you, would he?

No.

No, he's just your neighbor that has a hard time making friends since he's always daydreaming and making up songs. He doesn't mean anything by the way he's looking at you.

Well, your brother begs to differ. Rein thinks that Corbin likes you a little too much. Would prefer you not to spend too much time around him. Especially after last night's incident with the guitar and the cat.

“I was just about to lock up.” You told your neighbor, who was standing with his shoulders slumped; hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at you. His stare made you feel uneasy.

“But my my brother doesn't want you hanging around, so I better just walk to the square by myself.” You told him, hoping it'd make him leave, before sweeping your dirt pile into a dustpan and dumping the contents into a trashcan.

“Rein needs to calm down.” Corbin huffed as you put the broom and dustpan away in a small closet. “I didn't mean to scare your cat, Junebug. I just got upset that you hated my song and my guitar slipped. Hell, I wasn't even aiming it at the stupid cat.” He told you, running a hand through his dark curls, while you took your coat out of the closet and put it on.

You didn't want to walk to the main square with him, but it didn't look like you had any other choice.

“Don't call my cat stupid, Corbin Evergreen.” You ordered the boy, slamming the closet shut and crossing the room.

“Don't call me Evergreen, Y/N. You know I've been going by Everdeen ever since I was 11 and first met ‘cha.” Corbin told you before storming out of the shop.

His name was really Corbin Evergreen but when you first met him, he had a tiny lisp and you misheard his word as Everdeen instead of Evergreen. For some reason he decided to stick with Everdeen. He refused to answer to his former name of Corbin Evergreen, which was something that saddened his Aunt Maude Ivory.

You shook your head, not feeling up to dealing with Corbin Everdeen and his odd mannerisms. Sighing, you opened the door, set the lock on the doorknob, and walked out into the biting, cold late winter afternoon. Wrapping your arms around your middle, in a vain attempt to provide your body with more warmth, you sigh, “Let's get to the square.”

“Think maybe the big announcement is the games are being canceled?” The lanky boy next to you asked after a couple of minutes walking in silence.

“No.” You shook your head. Cancel the games. Ha, hell would freeze over first.

“They should cancel them.” Corbin told you, his tone full of disdain. You knew you were in for it. That he'd be going on a rant, like he always did when the games or when the tribute tour neared. “They're barbaric and the Capitol pigs watching and betting on the kids killing each other for shits and giggles each year should be strung up.”

Oh no, here he goes…

“And the worst of them all’s the head gamemaker, Snowball himself. God, that man needs to be taken outback and shot for the shit he lets go on in the arena. The fact he's strutting around in his luxury suits while the rest of us wear rags; sending our young to the slaughter for him to afford to buy those damn suits is fucking sick.” Corbin ranted as you got closer to the main square, where everyone in the District would be.

“Somebody should toss Snowball’s kids into the arena; see how he feels watching his babies fight for their lives while people bet on them like gamecocks in a fighting pit.”

“He doesn't have any kids, Corbin.”

The tall boy with the dark curls gave you a look and asked, “How'd you know that?”

“All the magazine articles only mention his wife. Same with any tv interviews.” You pointed out.

“Seems like the universe helped us dodge a bullet there. Bet his kid would be as cruel and corrupt as him.”

Little did you know, the universe didn't help you dodge that bullet. In fact, that bullet was dangerously close to piercing your skin…

You didn't know the head gamemaker, so you felt awkward listening to your neighbor bad mouth him. Rein and Ashlie, who joined your family about 3 years after your mother left, raised you with the golden rule. They also told you not to judge others until you walked a mile in their shoes. Despite enduring hardships to raise you, they taught you kindness. They also taught you the strength of perseverance.

Tired of the lanky, dark haired boy’s rant, you gave him the advice of, “You shouldn't talk about him like that. You don't know him; it's not nice to prejudge people.”

Corbin’s dark brows knitted together over his crystal blue eyes. He looked at you with disappointment and annoyance painted all over his face. “Junebug, don't give that man the benefit of a doubt. He designs the arenas that kids fight to the death in. He's not a good guy.”

“I'm going to find my brother.” You said, as a way to end the conversation with Corbin, while reaching the main square.

“A’ight.” He nodded. “I'll help you find him.” Corbin offered, only to follow you while you weaved in and out of the crowd.

It didn't take long to find your brother, Rein. He was standing in front of the Justice Building with Ashlie glued to his side.

Before you could ditch Corbin and make it to your family, he noticed them. Gesturing towards them, he grabbed your hand and said, “come on, I see them.”

You snatched your hand out of his, only to say, “I can make my way over to Rein and Ashlie without any help. Maybe you should find your Auntie Maude Ivory, cause I doubt my brother wants to see you right now.”

“Fine, I'll go find Auntie Maude. But, Y/N, your brother needs to calm down. Being so fired up over nothing, but a misunderstanding’s ridiculous.” Corbin grumbled before storming off into the crowd, head searching for his kin.

Rein seemed to notice you or mainly he noticed the exchange you had with Corbin. As soon as you came up to Rein and Ashlie, your brother pointed his cigarette at you and hisissed, “I don't like how Corbin's looking at you. It ain't normal, Y/N.”

“Don't worry about it, Rein.” You brushed off your brother. Honestly, you knew he was just looking out for you, but you didn't want to deal with his protective big brother antics right now.

Taking your brother's cigarette from his fingers and taking a drag, his girlfriend, Ashlie remarked, “Rein’s right, the way that Everdeen boy looks at you ain't right. Comes ‘cross like he'd steal you away or something by how eerie his stare is.”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to hear Panem's anthem sound out into the air, marking that in a second the president would appear on screen to make his announcement. Clamping your mouth shut, you turned your attention to the large projection screen that was set up right next to the platform of the Justice Building.

Once the music came to a stop, the Panem emblem that was on screen was replaced by the scene of President Ravenstill (who was a frail old man) standing at a podium. Behind him was a tall man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and cold, crystal blue eyes. You couldn't help, but feel a sense of deja vu about the eyes of the Head Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow.

Everyone in the square was glued to the TV screen as the president introduced himself with, “As you're all aware, the Gamemakers have come up with a way to remember the impact of the war. The Quarter Quell will mark a 25 year period, a milestone of the games, and will have a special theme for the Hunger Games. Head Gamemaker Snow has in his possession an envelope that holds the special theme for this year's first Quarter Quell.”

Turning to the man looming behind him, the president held out his hand for the envelope. Without a word, Head Gamemaker Snow pulled a gold encrusted envelope from his maroon coat pocket and handed it over to the president. President Ravenstill opened the envelope, only to announce, “As a reminder to everyone that it is the rebels fault for the games; for children being reaped, during this first Quarter Quell each District shall hold an election to vote for one male and one female tribute to send to the Capitol as tribute for the games.”

The president took a moment's pause only to end his speech with, “The Capitol has faith that each District shall vote to send their unwanted and rebel citizens to the arena.”

When the president sat down, much to everyone's surprise, Head Gamemaker Snow took the podium. “Don't forget, citizens of Panem, that the Victory Tour for the Victor of the 24th Hunger Games is next week. I hope that all of you, loyal citizens, join in on your district’s festivities and greetings for the victory tour.”

“Fucking pompous peacock asswipe wants us to be festive when the child killer he created gets paraded in our home. Fucking unbelievable.” You heard Corbin Everdeen loudly squawk from his spot a few yards away from you and your family. “Can't wait to see what bloody horrors he comes up with in this year's games considering Snowball’s having us send rebels and undesirables to the kiddie death match arena this go around.”

You were drawn out of your mental reverie down memory lane by a painfully rough timbre asking the question of, “Penny for your thoughts, darling?”

Looking over your shoulder, only to see Coriolanus slumped on the edge of the bed with blood staining the edge of his mouth, you retorted with, “I don't have any thoughts worth your penny.”

Your memory hit you with the hard reality that the man next to you, wheezing and barking with a bloody cough, was the reason behind your reaping. That it's his fault you even went to the games.

If he never gave President Ravenstill that golden envelope with the First Quarter Quell twist in it, then you never would've been reaped. Never would've been voted to be tribute in the Capitol's games.

Your district would've never sent you to die.

The weight of this sudden revelation was too much to bear.

“I can hear you thinking from over here, Y/N. What's the matter, my darling rose?” Coriolanus, the head gamemaker; the man who's the reason you got tossed into the games to fight for your life, asked as he tries to suppress his coughing.

Feeling overwhelmed, you snapped, “Don't call me that anymore. Coriolanus.”

The order took the man next to you off guard. He gave you a look, conveying that he was at a loss on where your sudden change of feelings stemmed from.

“I'm not your darling rose, I'm just the District 12 girl that got sent to die by everyone in her district because of your little twist on the reaping system.” You bitterly spat. Your body started to shake and you couldn't even look at the head gamemaker. “It's just dumb luck that I won. I wasn't supposed to win; nobody from 12 ever wins.”

Coriolanus attempted to confront you, even going as far as grabbing you and dragging you over to him. “Y/N, it's not my fault you got voted to participate in the games. The twist in the rules for the Quarter Quell was meant for the districts to send their troublesome and undesirables to the arena. It was never meant for-”

You pushed him away, which wasn't too hard since he was weak from the poison he ingested hours ago, and cut him off with a loud scream, “They sent me to die because of you!”

Coriolanus hated possessive and obsessive feelings (he won't dare say love, but you've managed to wiggle your way underneath his ribcage into his cold, dead, black heart) because they made him feel things such as hurt, guilt, empathy, etc. He hated feelings because they made him weak.

Right now, watching you have a breakdown because your district voted for you to be a tribute made him feel helpless and, in a way, guilty.

He hated feeling things.

He hates being weak.

He'd rather just feel lust for you coursing through his veins, but that wasn't the case tonight.

“They thought I wouldn't come back and everyone, everyone, back home sent me off to die as if I meant nothing. And they had the power to do it because of a fun new rule change.”

“Y/N…” Coriolanus sighed, scooting over slightly so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you into his chest, which felt like a thousand knives were stabbing it as an adverse effect of the poisoned wine he drank, he told you, “I'm sorry that they picked you to represent that backwater district, but it's not your home.” Using his free hand to tilt your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his, he reminded you, “Your home's here with me, in the Capitol, now. I promise, I won't let you get hurt ever again.”

Feeling another bloody cough threatening to take over him, the platinum blonde weakly shifted the both of you closer to the edge of the bed.

All the while you let out a cry of, “I never bothered anybody and I graduated top of my class. I had an internship at the apothecary, Coriolanus.” Your voice quivered as you wailed, “I never thought that they'd pick me to go die, but they did.”

Seeing you crying your beautiful eyes out over the fact that those dirty scumbags in the coal district sent you to the Capitol with the intention of you dying sent a pang right through his icy, cold, dead heart. It made his chest tighten seeing you so upset over your district choosing you, a very smart girl that's nothing like the other whores of District 12, to be the female tribute.

The platinum blonde man hated seeing you emotional over a bunch of assholes. Assholes that were worth less than the shit on the bottom of a boot. You're his Victor, his darling rose, and he can't have you falling apart over a filthy district full of uneducated hillbillies that mine coal underground all day.

Pulling you closer into his chest, while trying to fight off a bloody coughing fit, Coryo soothingly combed his long fingers through your hair while telling you, “I know, my darling rose. I know, it hurts that they picked you when they shouldn't have.” Pressing a kiss to your hair, he continued his attempts to soothe you. “But you survived despite what those district coal dust covered dogs thought.”

He let out a bloody cough, using his hand to cover his mouth so the blood splatter wouldn't hit you since your head's tucked under his chin; right against his chest.

Coriolanus’ words should've brought you comfort or at least calm you down a fraction, but they didn't. Right now, you feel like nothing could make you feel better.

Nothing, but the answer to the most important question circling your mind.

“Why did they pick me? I never did anything wrong.” You asked, looking up at Coriolanus with tears shining in your eyes.

Seeing tears falling from your eyes, staining your cheeks as you asked him a question he honestly didn't have the answer for gutted him. It made him feel weak and useless.

He hates feeling weak and useless.

Coriolanus made a mental note to ask Smiley, when he calls him up tomorrow to ask him for a favor concerning the acquisition of your apothecary book, to find out all the names of the people that voted for you to get sent into the games as tribute.

Despite what everyone thinks, the voting isn't anonymous. The Peacekeepers have records of who voted for who considering the grunts were the ones keeping track of and tallying the votes.

Anyways, Coriolanus was going to find out who voted for you and make them pay. Nobody makes his darling rose cry her eyes out and gets away with it.

Nobody sends what's his to the slaughter and gets away with it either.

Despite the fact that you weren't even with him at the time of your reaping, the platinum blonde wants to hurt and punish everyone that had a hand in hurting you.

Maybe he should look in the mirror and cuss himself out, since he's the mastermind behind the rules and the arena that caused you pain. But, Coriolanus Snow will never own up to it.

No….

He didn't play a hand in your tribute problems.

No….

It's those damn district drunks and whores that's to blame.

Coriolanus wiped away your tears with the rough pad of his thumb. “I don't know why they picked you, my darling rose.” Shushing you, he said, “You need to calm down, Y/N. You're with me and, remember, we promised to take care of each other; to keep each other safe.”

All you could do was nod your head in his chest and sniffle.

“You belong to me and I belong to you, remember?” Coriolanus asked, reminding you that he could be trusted, as he felt a coughing fit threatened to take over his body.

“Are you sure you want me to be yours, Coryo? I'm damaged goods now; the games changed me. I'm a mess.” You asked, the overwhelming feeling to start crying threatening to take over, as the man holding you let out a series of loud, biting, bloody coughs.

Coryo cleared his throat, feeling blood bubble up and slide down into the pit of his stomach. Not even thinking about wiping off his blood soaked hand, he placed his hand onto your back and began to run soothing circles. The blood stained your oversized sweater, most likely ruining it. But at this moment, blood staining a sweater didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was calming you down so you'd get some much needed sleep.

Coriolanus’ other hand softly petted your hair as a comforting gesture.

He leaned his head against his pillow, only to assure you, “You're not damaged, Y/N. You're a survivor; a victor.” You were slowly beginning to calm down as his timbre filled the air with, “Life's arena changes all victors, myself included, and the fact that you're strong enough to land on top makes you worthy enough to be mine.”

And you were his, whether you wanted to accept it or not. You'll always belong to him. Nothing could ever change that.

Because once Coriolanus Snow becomes obsessed with somebody, he'll smother them in his hold and never let them go.

You just happened to be the recipient of his obsession. All because when he saw you walk onto the reaping stage in your red floral dress with your hair pulled back in a bow, he felt a primal urge; a raging desire to have you.

It was an instant obsessive love at first sight.

So, if it wasn't for the Quarter Quell twist you might never have become the obsession of the man whose arms you're being comforted in.

Or maybe the gods would've found a way to stick you two together. A way for him to find you, become obsessed with you to the point that he’d kill to have you by his side in the Capitol.

Just because you and Coriolanus don't believe in the gods, fate, or mystics doesn't mean that they don't exist.

Because no matter what, it's you and him now.

You and Coriolanus, and all of your demons.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @urfavnoirette

[is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent]

are you favorite characters nd coded? do you headcanon them nd for fun?

if "yes," then this is the blog for you! submit a character at the form at the bottom of the post (DONT USE ASKS) and you'll be added to the queue so long as it follows the rules!

DISCLAIMERS

this is all for fun, don't take this too seriously!! this is mainly a space for neurodivergent people to come together and have fun with headcanons since we're often underrepresented - neurotypicals are welcome if you're respectful. inspired by @aretheyqueer

i skip around in the form submissions (sometimes i'll get like 10 of the same fandom at a time, or just a bunch of autism in a row with nothing else, or just a ton with no reasons). i also shuffle the queue a bit, so for these reasons it won't be in order of submission.

the owner of this gimmick blog (@angelellipsis-devilofdots, aurora/north/rockrose, she/fae/they) has anxiety, synesthesia/chromesthesia, and self-diagnosed autism.

RULES

you can also include mental illnesses if you'd like to

if you add reasons for the headcanons, refrain from any offensive stereotypes or prejudice

avoid making a poll if the character is confirmed to have said condition (ex: if a character is canonically autistic, don't submit them for autism. but if you also headcanon them with adhd and that isn't confirmed, feel free to submit)

if they are heavily implied/coded to have something, but not outright confirmed, you can still submit!

characters can be voted on multiple times but not for the same reason, i may forget though

no harry potter/helluva boss/hazbin hotel

no real people

UPDATES AND ANNOUNCEMENTS

looking for new mods to help out, probably 1-2 for now!! dm me if you're interested

that's it for now! feel free to reach out to me with questions, corrections, suggestions, etc ❤️

[odinsblog]

[re: this post]

The bad news is, I’m stranded because my condo has only one road in and out, and that’s 100% underwater rn

The other bad news is, my car is flooded even though I thought I moved it to higher ground

BUT … the heartening news is this:

This condo complex is roughly 2,500 units so tons of people live here. We were all without power from around 4pm yesterday until 10:30am today

So at daybreak everyone was outside surveying the damage and trying to figure out how to get their sunken cars started and how to get out (we’re just going to have to wait for the waters to recede iMho)

I took one look at my VERY RECENTLY PAID FOR CAR as it sat submerged, and started to head back inside. That’s when a neighbor I’d never met before asked me if my phone was charged. I told her no, it’s completely dead. She then directed me to another neighbor who found one outlet that, for some reason, still had power. There were about 10 or 15 people lined up and someone had gotten probably the longest extension cord w/outlets that I’ve ever seen in my life. If you weren’t already charging your phone on the outlet, there was one outlet spot where everyone was taking turns to get a quick 10 minute charge and make some calls. Apparently everyone had already voted to use one of the extension cord outlets full time for a coffee pot (because coffee, right?)

There was someone else outside whose car wasn’t submerged who was letting people use his car to charge their phones

And then I heard someone say, “Are there any elderly or disabled people living here who we need to go check on?” And I said, “OMG, what about the lady on the 7th floor? She’s in a wheelchair!” And someone else said that the elevator was out because of no power, and I was like, “So? Are the stairs broken? I can run up and go check on her.” And then someone else was like, “She died a couple of years ago.” And we were all like, “Ohhh.”

I’m rambling a bit, but the point is, it was super refreshing to see people working together and sharing and helping each other. This wasn’t a disaster by any stretch of the imagination. At worst, it has merely been a big inconvenience. But it was still nice to see neighbors (many of whom were strangers until this morning) being nice and helpful to each other

It reaffirms what I’ve always believed: in difficult times most people WILL work together—without any personal or monetary incentive. So please don’t believe greedy ass mutha fuckers when they opine about survival of the fittest and making a quick profit off of someone else’s suffering. It doesn’t have to be that way, and most often, it isn’t that way

And yeah, I know that my small experience wasn’t a dire situation and no lives were on the line (like they are where the hurricane actually made landfall), but I would like to believe that my microcosm is the norm for similar macrocosms

I believe that most people are good at heart, or at the very least, they WANT to be good and sometimes just need a nudge in the right direction

Anyway, I guess it’s about time for me to go do battle with my car insurance company (now talk about evil entities!) to see what up with my partially submerged vehicle

If anyone has done this insurance claim dance before, I’m open to some friendly advice bc this is brand new for me

Please have a great day today everyone ✌🏿

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 10

Warnings: swearing, angst

Notes: I'm sorry this update took so long. I had a big dramatic scene in the meeting with Nick Fury planned but I wrote and rewrote it for three days and it just never hit right so, hopefully this works.

Lemme know what you think, I live for likes, shares and notes.

Nick Fury landed at the compound late Monday afternoon and went straight into Maria Hill's office to meet for over two hours. He left to go back to his quarters for food and sleep.

Maria immediately logged on to her computer to send a meeting invite to the Avengers for the next morning.

The team discussed the email over dinner in hushed and worried voices. Even Tony and Steve seemed concerned. Sharon was done with her treatment and appeared to be back to her normal self, even if she did act like the ankle monitor she was wearing weighed a ton. There was an ongoing investigation into when Antonia first gave her the serum, before or after Sharon became the Power Broker, so the ankle monitor helped Friday keep track of her and prevented her from going outside of the residence floor, common room and medbay.

Sharon grabbed the seat next to Bucky and was flirting with him, although more subtly than previously. Bucky moved his chair over as far as he could to get away from her until Sam elbowed him in his ribs. Sharon didn't get the hint and tried playing footsies with Bucky until he 'accidentally' kicked her in the shin while still wearing the steel toed boots he had on when he was playing keep away with Sam's shield earlier.

Sharon yelped "What the fuck Barnes? Are you wearing steel toes? You nailed me right in the shin. It's not bad enough that my other leg has that stupid monitor which makes my leg ache, if anyone cares."

Bucky shrugged "Shouldn't have been trying to play footsies." He smirked at her "and, No, no one cares. Maybe deciding to become a crime lord wasn't your best call, huh?"

Sharon shook her head as she felt her face heat up and stammered out "B-b-but I, I w-was just uh st-stretching mmmy legs."

Sam choked on his drink as he tried not to laugh "Fuck! Sorry, went down the wrong way."

Bucky smirked as Sharon glared at Sam then looked down swearing under her breath. "I helped you assholes and ended up an enemy of the state, I should have let Ross deal with all three of you."

Steve cleared his throat and looked at them like a disappointed father whose kids are acting up during dinner, which made Sam laugh out loud.

Tony sighed "Alright children. A little play to ease the tension is fine but this shit is serious. Fury is going to come down on all of us and I don't feel like taking his abuse for something that I wasn't involved with. You!" He pointed at Bucky and Sharon "And Romanoff, are the reason Cookie left so I vote for you taking the brunt of his anger."

Bucky looked down at his plate as he moved the food around. "I know and I plan on accepting responsibility for my part in it. I've been trying to figure out how to convince her to come back but I'm stuck. I'm open to any ideas."

Tony nodded, unconvinced "Riiight, good luck with that.

Well if anyone's interested, Romanoff is still in a holding cell while medical takes care of her. She's reportedly a difficult patient but seems to be improving."

There was a collective groan before Bucky shook his head "Pffft, not interested."

Sam snickered while Steve gave Bucky that dad look again to which Bucky just shrugged. "Well, I don't care. She's caused me too much trouble."

Steve sighed "She was being controlled, Buck. You can't hold her completely responsible."

"Maybe not but that doesn't mean I'm interested in her condition. I'm sure that the medical team will take care of her and it's not my problem. She was being weird even before all this drama. She tried to restart the whatever we had in the Red Room and I don't want her." His face dropped and he muttered sadly "I just want Cookie."

"Right, jerk." Steve looked around "It's getting late, we should all get some rest so we're up to dealing with this meeting tomorrow."

The others nodded and mumbled agreement before getting up to clean and heading to their rooms. Sharon tried again to talk to Bucky but he strode away too quickly for her to catch him.

Bucky tried to sleep but couldn't, like most nights since he pushed Cookie away he laid in his bed staring at the ceiling. Looking at the 'glow in the dark' galaxy and blue twinkle lights that Cookie decorated his room with. She said it was too impersonal and decorated with posters, soft pillows with matching blankets and such. All space related, galaxy patterns. Usually it was calming but not right now.

Now he spent most of his time either in therapy, writing to Cookie or wallowing. Feeling angry at being controlled again, feeling sorry for himself, feeling empty because she wasn't here.

He got up to sit at his desk and write another letter to her. The letters started as declarations of his love and apologies for his actions, whether he was in control of himself or not. Now they were a running commentary of each days events and activities, plus whatever topics branched off from that, like they used to have in the evenings after dinner. They would lay on his bed with his music playing softly, holding hands and staring at the galaxy overhead, talking about their day and whatever else came to mind. Sometimes they had stayed awake talking until the sun came up.

Bucky fell asleep at his desk as he was writing, only to be jolted awake by Friday. An alarm and reminder of the meeting in 1 hour. A hot shower didn't help wake him up so he headed to the kitchen for coffee. He grumbled the entire way, Fury scheduling a meeting at 5am was just cruel and unusual, Bucky knew it was just the beginning of the punishments they would endure until things were set right.

Just to ensure that this day was shit from the gate, the first face Bucky saw was Nat, in the kitchen. He sighed and cursed his luck.

Nat smirked "Morning Barnes, you look like you haven't slept. I can come by later and help tire you out." She practically purred.

Bucky scoffed "Hard pass." Proud of himself for remembering some of the current slang that Cookie had been trying to teach him. As he looked down he noticed Nats ankle monitor and chuckled "Nice jewelry you've got there."

Nat scowled at him "Fuck you, Barnes."

Bucky smirked "In your dreams" as Nat stomped off.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and headed towards the conference room where Steve was already waiting. He grunted a greeting to Steve and took a seat. The rest of the team trickled in until a few minutes before 5 when Nick Fury strode in, Maria Hill following right behind. Tony ambled in shortly after and sat down.

Three hours later, everyones ears were ringing from the yelling. As they walked out of the conference room, Bucky and Sam were arguing over how many times Fury hollered "mother fucker/s" over the course of the meeting.

Sam just shook his head "I've never met a man who could yell for that long without losing his voice." He looked at Bucky then towards Sharon and Nat

"All y'all better get your acts together because if I ever have to sit through 3 hours of being yelled at by Nick Fury for something I didn't do again, someone's gonna pay."

Fury had cancelled all leave, every extra perk the team had and assigned additional training and chore duty. None of them would be having much fun anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every day Cookie came home from work there was another letter from Bucky. She ate dinner alone, staring at the stack of letters, afraid to find out what they said.

Every time she thought about it she started thinking he was ending their friendship for good, then argued with herself that he wouldn't keep writing if that were the case.

On Friday night she sat on the couch eating takeout with the news on in the background. It almost felt like the letters themselves were calling out to her. Once she finished eating she cleaned up her mess and poured a second glass of wine. She sat back on the couch, turned the news off and turned some soft jazz music on before looking at the stack and sighing.

Cookie took a long drink of her wine before finally picking up the first letter. She looked over it for a few minutes, searching for any hint of what was said inside but it was just a plain envelope with Bucky's writing.

She carefully opened it and pulled the papers out. She took another drink to calm her nerves and unfolded the papers, gasping when something fell out, onto her lap. She looked down and her eyes grew wide as she picked up Bucky's dog tags. He never took them off, being one of the few items left from his past, he was very attached to them.

Cookie looked at the tags only to notice a second pair of tags. They were nicer than the set the Army gave Bucky when he enlisted. They had his full name and nickname, birth date with his birthstone and instead of his serial number it said 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N, bka Cookie, please call or return to the Avengers compound.' She laughed and couldn't hold the sob in.

With tears running down past the smile on her face, she put the dog tags over her head, held them against her heart and started reading.

Dear Cookie,

I'm not sure where to start, I have so much to say and the words keep getting mixed up in my head.

I miss you, more than I ever imagined missing someone. This place feels empty and cold without your warmth, your smile lit up my days and now everything seems dark.

I'm so, so sorry for everything, I never wanted to hurt you. I've only ever wanted to love and worship you like the goddess you are.

You probably already found my dog tags, I want you to have them. The other set were kinda meant as a joke but it's true. You own my heart and I think you always will.

I knew, that first day we met, that you were it for me. I know it might not have seemed like it at first but you scared me. The way my body reacted to your simple handshake scared the Hell outta me. I was a mess and you were so beautiful and smart. And caring, patiently waiting for me to come out of my shell. I know you deserve a better man than me but my time with Doctor Raynor has taught me that I do deserve happiness and good things.

The night we spent together was the best night of my life. I was finally feeling like I could be the man you deserve and even if you hate me and never want to speak to me again, I will Always hold the memory of that night, of being with you, making love to you, that feeling that everything is exactly how it's meant to be. I'll never let that go, even if I live another 107 years.

I'm sorry that our bliss was destroyed so quickly but if you let me, if you want to, we can rebuild it into something stronger.....

The letter went on with an update on life in the compound and Bucky's thoughts about everything. Cookie skimmed through that part, Sam had been keeping her updated on the gossip so she barely paid attention.

The letter finished....

I hope you are happy where you are now and I'm sorry for avoiding you. I didn't think I deserved your forgiveness or grace but now, I'm hoping I can earn both and prove to you that nothing is more important to me than your happiness.

All my love,

JBB

Cookie held the letter and dog tags to her chest as she cried herself to sleep, a deep restful sleep like she hadn't experienced in a long while.

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Chapter 11