#the literature vote is too high

[jackelopeofthelake]

Why do you think: “The reading comprehension on this site is piss poor” became a joke

[jaybird1306]

Last month, England and Wales took the first step towards legalising assisted dying (a separate bill is under consideration in Scotland, while Northern Ireland is described as “left behind” on the issue). After a five hour debate in Parliament, MPs voted by 330 to 275 in favour of the The Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill. As it stands, the bill would allow terminally ill adults with an expected six months left to live to end their own lives. They would have to make two separate declarations, signed by either themselves or a proxy (who can be someone who has known them for two years or someone of “good standing” in the community), and their eligibility would have to be confirmed by two doctors and a High Court judge.

The vote to approve this bill is being presented by supporters of the right to assisted death as a victory for dignity, compassion and bodily autonomy. The ultimate in the right to choose. And on these bases you might assume that I am one of those people. After all, I do believe in bodily autonomy. I hope it goes without saying that I believe in dignity and compassion in death as in life. And, of course, I believe fervently in the right to choose what happens to your own body.

But rather than these beliefs leading me to support this bill, they are in fact the reason that I have my doubts. Let me explain.

Like most good liberals, when I historically thought at all about assisted dying I considered myself to be in favour of it — although admittedly without having thought through any of the details. There is no doubt whatsoever that current end of life care leaves far too many people suffering a painful and undignified end. There is also no doubt that some people, out of fear of such an end, have ended their lives earlier than they might otherwise have chosen to, while they still had the ability to travel to Dignitas in Switzerland. Family members have faced the choice of letting their loved one travel and die alone in a foreign country, or to go with them and face the risk of prosecution on their return. None of this is humane. And legalising assisted dying seems like an obvious way to address these issues. That, in any case, was what I historically thought.

But a few years ago, doubts were introduced in my mind when I was a judge on the Royal Society of Literature’s Christopher Bland Prize. One of the books submitted to us was a memoir by Alastair Santhouse, a consultant neuropsychiatrist at The Maudsley Hospital in London. The book, Head First: A Psychiatrist’s Stories of Mind and Body, didn’t make the shortlist in the end, but it did make a lasting impact on me, most notably on my opinion of assisted dying.

Santhouse opens his section on the topic by recounting his first experience of a practice he was later to discover was so common it had a name: “granny dumping.” That is, the depositing of an unwanted elderly relative (the name suggests usually a female relative — we’ll come back to this) at a hospital over Christmas. The elderly woman in question here was brought in by her son and daughter-in-law who told Santhouse, “She just isn't right,” before leaving and turning off their phones. On her own, the woman, now in tears, told Santhouse there was nothing wrong with her. “They just don’t want me over Christmas.”

This episode may shock you as it did me. The thought of doing such a thing to my own mother causes me physical pain in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I simply cannot bear it. But, says Santhouse, the medical profession quickly disabused him of his “notions of people always behaving honourably or having respect for the elderly.” And it is his decades of experience, his repeated witnessing of this lack of honour and respect for older people, that makes him so implacably opposed to assisted dying.

While some may have taken a calm and rational choice to end their lives, there are an unquantifiable number of people who may be pressured or coerced into doing so. […] As they approach the end of their lives, people feeling unwell and scared can experience a pressure, spoken or implied, to let their families collect the inheritance that they would otherwise not get if they had to pay for medical or nursing home fees. They may also feel a pressure to release their families from the burden of caring for them. Vulnerable, frightened patients may only feel loved, accepted and valued by their families if they take the decision to end their lives by assisted suicide. — Santhouse (2021) pp. 206-7

As my parents have aged I too have witnessed some of this lack of honour and respect for older people in action. For example the time an impatient male carer made my strong, capable, fiercely independent mother cry when she was, in the immediate aftermath of a hip operation, feeling none of those things. I have also seen how quickly someone who is strong, capable and fiercely independent can suddenly become scared, uncertain and vulnerable when they lose their independence, even if, as with my mother, it was only temporary. It is far from unbelievable that someone in this state could be quite easily coerced into agreeing to end their own life. Rather, it is frighteningly believable. Indeed I personally know of at least one case where someone felt pressured (to my knowledge never overtly vocalised, but as Santhouse points out, this pressure does not need to be spoken to be felt) into arranging their own death, before at the last minute changing their mind. How many others have simply gone through with it?

Well, according to a recent report on assisted dying, “mercy killings” and failed suicide pacts, that is a question for which we do not have an answer and nor are we likely to get one any time soon. Written by the think-tank “The Other Half, the “Safeguarding women in assisted dying” report notes the “secrecy” that is “built into the latest assisted dying proposals in the UK.”

This is also true of countries thought to be exemplars like Oregon and the Australian states. In Oregon, death certificates do not include a note of assisted dying. All provider information on assisted deaths is deleted after the annual report is prepared. This simple data report does not, and would not, reveal the kind of abuses we fear here. In Canada, there are stories now emerging of families who have tried to prevent their relative being given MAID [medical assistance in dying] —as they believe they are not terminally ill. Families cannot get access to medical records to understand if their relative was coerced. The state protects itself and those who are involved in delivering death. — The Other Half (2024)

The abuse the authors of this report in particular fear is state-delivered domestic homicide — and not without good reason. Although the UK inexplicably only started including over 75s in domestic abuse statistics in 2020, we know that elder abuse is far from uncommon. We also know that women live more years than men in ill health, and that having a disability doubles a woman’s risk of being domestically abused. The law in England and Wales has also recently recognised suicide as an outcome of domestic abuse (indeed, data suggests it may be more common even than homicide) and has outlawed the “rough sex defence” through which men who killed their sexual partner via strangulation achieved leniency in prosecution and sentencing.

We cannot claim therefore to be ignorant of the clear vulnerabilities women face, nor of capacity of violent men to exploit the law to justify their abuse. And yet despite this knowledge, the potential for these laws to be used in the furtherance of violence against women has been shamefully absent from the assisted dying debate.

And not just here in Britain. The report highlights that most countries that have legalised assisted dying don’t even consider domestic abuse in their safeguards (which are mostly concerned with will beneficiaries), let alone collect or publish any data on the issue. Meanwhile, assisted dying campaigners in the UK have championed two male mercy killers with a history of domestic violence, one of whom had previously been imprisoned for bludgeoning his second wife with a mallet.

The result of this data gap on domestic abuse and assisted dying is that it’s hard to quantify exactly how widespread the problem is. We do have some indications, however. We know that in Canada, women “seem 2 times more likely to seek MAID track 2—which allows for those with non ‘reasonably foreseeable’ deaths to die” — that is, women who are not terminally ill. We know in Belgium that women dominate the figures of those given “psychiatric euthanasia.” Why are these psychologically troubled women so much more likely to seek death than their male counterparts? The data is silent on this issue, and the states in question seem in no hurry to uncover the reason behind the sex discrepancy.

In the Bill as it currently stands in England and Wales, assisted death for the mentally unwell would not be an immediate issue, since the law would apply only to terminally ill patients — but the example of countries that have gone before us shows how easily and quickly the concept of “terminal illness” can be and has been stretched.

…it is estimated that now 3 per cent of Belgian and Dutch assisted deaths are for psychiatric disorder. Psychiatric illness is not usually terminal and suicidal impulses are often part of the illness itself. To have a state-sanctioned way for such people to end their lives should be a cause of concern for everyone.

One study showed that 50 per cent of Dutch psychiatric patients asking to die had a personality disorder* (a very unstable diagnosis with symptoms sensitive to social pressures), a figure similar to that in Belgium. Twenty per cent had never been hospitalized because of mental health problems (which calls into question how severe they are) and, in 56 per cent of cases, loneliness and social isolation was thought to be an important factor. This in turn raises the question as to whether assisted suicide is being used instead of proper social and mental health care. Perhaps the most troubling statistic in the study was that in 12 per cent of cases in the Netherlands, the three assessors had not agreed unanimously on the decision, and yet the assisted death went ahead anyway. — Santhouse (2021) p. 209

This final statistic is echoed in a finding from The Other Half report, which notes that in Western Australia, guidance states that “feeling a burden” is meant to be a red flag for assessors determining a patient’s eligibility. But despite “more than a third of those approved reporting they felt a burden, Western Australian medics decided that everyone who applied for VAD was eligible in acting voluntarily and not being subject to coercion in 2023-24.” Which, to say the least, stretches credulity; as the authors of the report put it: “It is startling that despite the prevalence of domestic and elder abuse in Australia, the assisted dying safeguards for these picked up absolutely no one at all.”

Well, quite.

Santhouse also raises concerns about safeguarding, noting that “as the experienced expert who would be asked to undertake [safeguarding] assessments,” their presence is “no reassurance whatsoever.” It is, he writes, “extremely difficult to truly know someone's motives, including the motives in someone asking for assisted dying. This is particularly the case where the individual concerned is frightened, vulnerable or wants to please others, and do what they believe others want them to do.”

Source: The Other Half (2024)

[Image description: an excerpt from The Other Half, "The 2006 killing of Mandy Horne in Shetland was widely reported as a Romeo and Juliet, mercy killing by her husband - Mandy had MS. Both died so there was no investigation. Only through Mandy's father and a curious Times journalist was it later revealed to be a very violent murder and suicide by Mandy's husband: he's also killed their pets. The night before she died, Mandy had asked friends to stay because she was scared of her husband."]

But despite the failure of states that have legalised assisted dying to collect data on its intersection with domestic violence, we are not entirely without pertinent evidence. By combing through “news reporting, inquest findings, sentencing remarks and court of appeal judgements where killings and attempted killings were said by a judge, coroner or defence to be part of a mercy killing, or (failed) suicide pact,” The Other Half report authors have identified and reviewed more than 100 “mercy killings” and “failed suicide pacts” — and they make for sobering reading.

The Other Half’s research revealed that “at least 5 UK men per year violently kill women who are disabled, elderly or infirm, under the guise of mercy killings.” Eighty-eight per cent of the killers were male, overwhelmingly husbands and sons, and the killings were extremely violent, involving “cutting women’s throats, bludgeoning them, shooting them, or using stabbing, suffocation and strangulation.” One woman was thrown off a balcony by her son. Another was strangled with her dressing-gown cord by her husband. Many women had their throat slit. “Overkill,” the authors found, was frequent. Meanwhile, men are “overwhelmingly the survivors of ‘failed suicide pacts’.”

Having my throat slit, or being strangled with my dressing gown cord, or being thrown off a balcony does not sound particularly merciful to me, and whether or not you wish to die, it is hard to imagine anyone choosing to die in such a violent manner. But the vast majority of these women did not ever express a wish to die at all, let alone to die violently. 78% of them were not even terminally ill, being simply “disabled or elderly and infirm.” The report identified an increase in a woman’s care needs as a trigger for a mercy killing.

The majority of these men were let off with suspended sentences and sympathy from judges who repeatedly spoke of the “exceptional” nature of these strikingly similar cases (the report found that the few women who engage in “mercy killing” generally get a life sentence), with “very limited data, if any, data [being] collected by the state on these deaths, and no learning or curiosity.” One man let off with a suspended sentence had written the joint suicide note himself with no input from his wife; another had a history of domestic violence against his dead wife. And, let’s not forget, these lenient sentences all took place in a context where assisted dying is illegal. It’s also worth pointing out that this analysis would not have been possible if these mercy killings had taken place under the auspices of the new bill, because none of the information would be publicly available.

Source: The Other Half (2024)

[Image description: excerpt from The Other Half, The judicial safeguard: even criminal court judges are not able to spot patterns in so called mercy killings. Selected judicial remarks to mercy and failed suicide pact killers. "This is indeed an exceptional case" - Scotland husband smothered wife who'd returned home from hospital. "A tragedy for you...exceptional in the experiences of this court. You were under immense emotional pressure...you acted out of love." - Husband wrote his wife's suicide note then cut her throat. Suspended sentence. "I conclude the mental torment engendered by the impossible situation in which you found yourself must have been intolerable." - Husband strangled wife after she had broken her vertebrae and had been unable to look after him. Suspended sentence. "[The judge] decided to suspend the sentence due to the 'exceptional' circumstances" - Father helped his daughter take an overdose then suffocated her. She had been receiving (poor) inpatient mental health care in hospital. Suspended sentence. "It was, in part, an act which you believed to be one of mercy." - Husband knocked his wife out with a dumbbell then slit her throat. She had dementia. Suspended sentence. "the defendant was not coping with the strain of being the principle carer...I accept at the time he did believe he was doing what he believed to be an act of mercy." - Husband smothered wife with clingfilm. She had Parkinsons and had recently has a fall. Suspended sentence. "the case was exceptional and jail would not be appropriate" -Husband gave his wife an overdose of antidepressants and suffocated her in a plastic bag. "I accept in killing your wife you were doing so because you felt this was the only way to limit or prevent her suffering." - Husband pushed his wife down the stairs and then strangled her. She had dementia. Suspended sentence. "The taking of a life is always a grave crime, but the exceptional circumstances of this case require the court to show compassion." - Husband cut his wife's throat after her dementia worsened. Suspended sentence. "indeed true love...an exceptional case" - Husband attempted to bludgeon his wife to death with a hammer. Suspended sentence. "a most unusual and very sad case" - Husband struck his wife with an iron pole, then smothered her as she sat in bed. Suspended sentence. "You were convinced that she was suffering and it was more than you could bear." - Son threw his mother off a balcony as she was receiving end of life care. Suspended sentence.]

But what about all the people who are not coerced, you may be thinking at this point. Don’t they have a right to bodily autonomy? Don’t they have the right to choose?

To this I have two points, the first of which is that rights in a democracy must be balanced and the right of one person to willingly choose to end his life must be weighed against the right of another person to choose to continue with hers. Nothing about the debate so far, nor the bill in question, makes me at all confident that this balance has even been considered, much less achieved. As Sarah Ditum noted in her excellent piece in The Times, published shortly before the vote took place:

But for legislation that relies on the principle of informed consent, there seems to be a strange haste to get it on the books without fully investigating its implications. The full text of the bill was published last Tuesday; MPs will vote on its second reading less than two weeks from today. This is not ideal, particularly when the issue is as consequential, ethically and practically, as medically administered death.[…] Before taking a neutral stance on a bill, the government should scrutinise it, including producing an impact assessment and a legal issues memorandum. These are supposed to be made available one month before the second reading, but as they don’t currently exist and the second reading is less than a month away anyway, that isn’t going to happen. — Ditum (2024)

Beyond this lack of proper scrutiny is the question of whether the state of care for those living with illness, whether terminal or not, gives people a meaningful choice to make. Certainly, the Health Secretary Wes Streeting doesn’t think it does, leading to his voting against the bill. Neither, apparently, does the Voluntary Assisted Dying (VAD) programme in Australia, if the pamphlet cited by The Other Half is anything to go by, featuring as it does this family quote: “The voluntary assisted dying process was really the first time that any medical and allied health practitioners had given such understanding and empathy to my sister's suffering, and that was such a relief.”

And, sure, you could read this as approbation of the VAD programme. Or you could read it as an indictment on the care system.

For his part, Santhouse says his experience is that when people are asking to die, “they are commonly communicating something different.”

They are asking for help to live. They are saying that they can't see how they can cope with the problems that they have, and are asking for help in finding a way through the seemingly impossible difficulties that lie ahead. To take their request at face value, and to whisk them over to the nearest assisted dying clinic, is to abrogate our responsibilities to the patient. — Santhouse (2024), p.210

If people are not making a free choice, if people are choosing death not because they want to die but because we have failed so abjectly to make living bearable for those who need care, what does that say about us as a society?

Similarly, as the Other Half notes in its examination of female suicidality in response to domestic violence, it “is impossible not to imagine a scenario that a woman in abusive situations would find it easier to access NHS assisted dying than support to create new life away from her abuser.” Certainly, assisting her death would be cheaper, a concern which was also raised by Santhouse, who fears that legalising assisted dying would make it “far easier to give up on people once the going gets tough.”

Advocates for assisted dying often rebut concerns about the morality or ethics of assisted dying by pointing to the strong public support that their position holds. And it’s true: my opinion is, as they say, unpopular: a poll conducted by Opinium earlier this year on behalf of pressure group Dignity in Dying found that 75% of the British public supports assisted dying.

But how many of the British public really understand the implications of how this works in practice? How many of them are thinking about the violence of the mercy killings we are asked to sympathise with, or the ease with which vulnerable people can be coerced into unwillingly ending their own lives? I ask, because when you poll British people who are more likely to have a good grasp of how assisted dying might work out in reality, the support drops rather precipitously.

A recent survey by the British Medical Association found that 50% of doctors were in favour of the legalisation of assisted dying, which is already a substantial drop from the position of the general public. The difference was even more pronounced when considering only palliative care doctors, that is, the doctors who are most likely to have direct experience of the realities for the patients involved (how good care can change their attitude to life; how vulnerable to coercion patients might be). Among these doctors, 76% were against a change in the law — almost the exact inverse of the opinion of the general public.

Where we go from here is unclear. The Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill is now at the committee stage, where it will hopefully receive some of the scrutiny that has to date been sorely lacking —although given parliamentary timetabling restrictions this is by no means guaranteed. In the meantime, social and palliative care continues to be underfunded and under-resourced. And some men will continue to violently kill some women, and the state will continue to allow most of them to get away with it.

In a weird coincidence, shortly after I wrote this piece a friend of mine told me about the Christmas care package that had been sent by Age UK to her mother and aunt:

[Image description: A collection of gifts that includes slippers, a blanket, shortbread biscuits, a box of Celebrations chocolates, other unidentifiable edible or wearable treats.]

Age UK apparently sends these packages out to people on benefits with age-related health problems, and it’s such a brilliantly practical and caring idea I was inspired to set up a monthly donation to the charity.

Here’s why you should too: ageing is a feminist issue. Older women are poorer (thanks to the pay and pensions gap) and more frail and in poorer health (thanks to the health data and treatment gap) than older men. They are also more likely, thanks to sex differences in unpaid care (see Invisible Women for stats on this), to have spent their life taking care of other people. So, this Christmas, instead of “granny dumping,” let’s return the favour and make sure older women are taken care of themselves as they have taken care of all of us.

The link to donate again is here.

[mariacallous]

Election Day is Tuesday. And while plenty of politicos and pundits are out there predicting what will happen, the reality is that … nobody knows. The polls are super close, nationally and in the swing states. Forecasting models see the race as a coin flip.

But you can spot some clear storylines that say a lot about how the two presidential campaigns have unfolded so far, and that might even help explain the outcome after the fact. One of those storylines is the determination and enthusiasm of women who back Democrat Kamala Harris, including women who might be afraid to say so publicly because their husbands support Republican Donald Trump.

I first heard about this last week, in Michigan, while covering a campaign event for Democratic Senate candidate Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin said canvassers were reporting stops at houses with large Trump signs, where women would answer and ― when asked which candidate they were supporting ― would quietly point to a photo of Harris on the canvassers’ campaign literature.

Slotkin went on to say she’d been hearing of an organic campaign to put notes in bathroom stalls, reminding women that their votes are confidential and that they should vote like their daughters’ lives depend on it.

It all sounded a little apocryphal. But it turns out that there really is a sticker and sticky note campaign, and it has been underway for at least several weeks, as Ms. Magazine and then NBC News reported in September.

And though the movement appears to have started on its own and spread over social media, lately the underlying sentiment has been getting high-profile support from figures like former first lady Michelle Obama, who in a recent Harris campaign appearance said, “If you are a woman who lives in a household of men that don’t listen to you or value your opinion, just remember that your vote is a private matter.”

Are there enough hidden votes to change who wins a state? Probably not. But the emotional fuel for it, the determination of so many women to elect Harris over Trump, absolutely could prove decisive.

If that happens, it would be one of the more ironic twists in modern political history ― and one of the more fitting ones, too ― because a campaign pitting men against women is exactly the campaign Trump and his advisers wanted.

The Boys vs. Girls Election

It’s no secret that this year’s gender gap is shaping up to be the largest in memory, with polls showing men favoring Trump by double digits, and women favoring Harris by a similar margin. In many ways, that gap was preordained not because of who’s on the ballot, but what’s at stake ― the future of reproductive freedom, and one side that’s actively pushing to regress back toward restrictive gender roles and limited rights.

But instead of trying to counter that, Trump has leaned in.

On the eve of this summer’s Republican National Convention, even before President Joe Biden dropped his reelection bid and Harris became their party’s nominee, Trump campaign officials boasted about how they were hoping to create what Axios called a “boys vs. girls election,” with ”Donald Trump’s chest-beating macho appeals vs. Joe Biden’s softer, reproductive-rights-dominated, all-gender inclusivity.”

So powerful was this appeal, Trump’s campaign managers told The Atlantic’s Tim Alberta, that Trump would manage to peel off some of the Black and Hispanic men who would traditionally vote Democratic, enough to offset losses among women. “For every Karen we lose, we’re going to win a Jamal and an Enrique,” one Trump ally had previously told Alberta.

The Trump campaign has unfolded just as his team promised ― which helps explain why, for example, Trump has spent the final weeks before the election appearing alongside former Fox News host Tucker Carlson (who recently suggested that the country needed Trump to be a “dad” who would deliver a “spanking”) while sidelining former South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley (who has been popular with independent female voters).

And the strategy may very well work. Polls have shown Harris struggling to hit the margins among Black and (especially) Hispanic men that previous Democrats have.

But the Trump gambit depends on winning over more men faster than he alienates women. And that’s hardly a safe bet. In just the last few years, the gender gap has been increasing at a faster pace than before, as my colleague Lilli Petersen explained recently.

Part of the reason for this shift is the Republican Party’s assault on reproductive freedom, culminating in the Supreme Court’s 2022 ruling striking down its 1973 Roe v. Wade decision and the enactment of abortion bans in multiple states. Trump has bragged about appointing the justices who made that ruling possible.

Trump, by all accounts, has come to understand that abortion is a political liability. That’s why over the past year he has, on occasion, suggested that some of the state bans go too far — or promised to protect access to in vitro fertilization, something at risk under abortion bans because it can involve the destruction of embryos. But with Trump being Trump, he’s been inconsistent and vague about what he would or wouldn’t support when it comes to reproductive rights.

And that’s not to mention the message his campaign has been sending about forcing adherence to traditional gender roles, in part with Trump’s selection of Ohio Sen. JD Vance as his running mate. Vance’s past includes statements that women without children are “childless cat ladies” who have too much influence in politics, as well as suggestions that the sexual revolution made it too easy for women to leave bad marriages. After these comments came to light, Vance doubled down — essentially apologizing to cats, but not women.

A campaign determined to win over more women would have made a serious effort to walk back these statements, starting with an apology. Vance never offered one, and neither did Trump.

The Backlash And Its Potential

How is this all shaking out?

Overall, according to a recent Politico analysis, women are accounting for 55% of the early vote across battleground states. And in Pennsylvania, a state that many strategists consider the most important for each candidate, data suggests that early voting includes a relatively high proportion of Democratic women who did not vote there in 2020.

Early voting is a notoriously unreliable predictor of outcomes, for the simple reason that the data about who is voting doesn’t say that much about how they are voting, especially in an environment without solid baselines for comparison. Early voting did not become particularly widespread until 2020, in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic and with Trump advising his supporters not to vote by mail. (This year, he’s generally encouraged them to vote early if they can.)

But women are a larger proportion of the population and, historically, they have voted at higher rates too. Last month, political scientist and Brookings senior fellow Elaine Kamarck ran the numbers on different scenarios to see what would happen if women came out to vote in the same proportion as in 2020, given the latest polling numbers available. She found Harris would win Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — enough to win the election.

The underlying polling numbers are now a month old, plus there’s no way to know how accurate they were. And a significant increase in turnout among men could easily elect Trump, Kamarck went out of her way to note. But, she concluded, “if women’s turnout stays the same as in 2020, it could be a good year for Harris; if it increases, it could be a very good year for her.”

That’s why the intensity of Harris’ support among women is so important, and why I reached out to Nikki Sapiro Vinckier, a Democratic activist in the northern Detroit suburbs.

Sapiro Vinckier, 36, is an OB-GYN physician’s assistant and abortion-rights advocate. She’d volunteered for Democratic campaigns before, but after watching Trump’s 2024 campaign unfold ― and then seeing Harris become the Democratic nominee ― she started making her own lawn signs and, more recently, stickers that she’s distributing locally and through social media.

The stickers say: “Ladies, no one will know who you vote for. Vote for your daughters, your sisters, yourself. Vote Kamala.” Sapiro Vinckier told me she has already ordered more than 30,000 stickers and is on her way to distributing all of them.

Sapiro Vinckier said she knows she’s not the only one getting so involved. “You have women who are coming out in tremendous numbers to vote, but you also have women coming out in incredible numbers to organize,” she said.

There’s no way to know if Harris will end up prevailing. But if she does, stories like Sapiro Vinckier’s will probably be a big reason why.

[squidy-tee-png]

I wrote an essay in the tags because i cant decide

1. Yes they have to fight, 2. Tell me who’s fighting who in the tags! (I’ll add the most ridiculous combos in a reblog)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jonathan Cohn at HuffPost:

Election Day is Tuesday. And while plenty of politicos and pundits are out there predicting what will happen, the reality is that … nobody knows. The polls are super close, nationally and in the swing states. Forecasting models see the race as a coin flip. But you can spot some clear storylines that say a lot about how the two presidential campaigns have unfolded so far, and that might even help explain the outcome after the fact. One of those storylines is the determination and enthusiasm of women who back Democrat Kamala Harris, including women who might be afraid to say so publicly because their husbands support Republican Donald Trump.

I first heard about this last week, in Michigan, while covering a campaign event for Democratic Senate candidate Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin said canvassers were reporting stops at houses with large Trump signs, where women would answer and ― when asked which candidate they were supporting ― would quietly point to a photo of Harris on the canvassers’ campaign literature. [...]

And though the movement appears to have started on its own and spread over social media, lately the underlying sentiment has been getting high-profile support from figures like former first lady Michelle Obama, who in a recent Harris campaign appearance said, “If you are a woman who lives in a household of men that don’t listen to you or value your opinion, just remember that your vote is a private matter.” Are there enough hidden votes to change who wins a state? Probably not. But the emotional fuel for it, the determination of so many women to elect Harris over Trump, absolutely could prove decisive. If that happens, it would be one of the more ironic twists in modern political history ― and one of the more fitting ones, too ― because a campaign pitting men against women is exactly the campaign Trump and his advisers wanted.

The Boys vs. Girls Election

It’s no secret that this year’s gender gap is shaping up to be the largest in memory, with polls showing men favoring Trump by double digits, and women favoring Harris by a similar margin. In many ways, that gap was preordained not because of who’s on the ballot, but what’s at stake ― the future of reproductive freedom, and one side that’s actively pushing to regress back toward restrictive gender roles and limited rights. But instead of trying to counter that, Trump has leaned in. On the eve of this summer’s Republican National Convention, even before President Joe Biden dropped his reelection bid and Harris became their party’s nominee, Trump campaign officials boasted about how they were hoping to create what Axios called a “boys vs. girls election,” with ”Donald Trump’s chest-beating macho appeals vs. Joe Biden’s softer, reproductive-rights-dominated, all-gender inclusivity.”

So powerful was this appeal, Trump’s campaign managers told The Atlantic’s Tim Alberta, that Trump would manage to peel off some of the Black and Hispanic men who would traditionally vote Democratic, enough to offset losses among women. “For every Karen we lose, we’re going to win a Jamal and an Enrique,” one Trump ally had previously told Alberta. The Trump campaign has unfolded just as his team promised ― which helps explain why, for example, Trump has spent the final weeks before the election appearing alongside former Fox News host Tucker Carlson (who recently suggested that the country needed Trump to be a “dad” who would deliver a “spanking”) while sidelining former South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley (who has been popular with independent female voters). And the strategy may very well work. Polls have shown Harris struggling to hit the margins among Black and (especially) Hispanic men that previous Democrats have.

But the Trump gambit depends on winning over more men faster than he alienates women. And that’s hardly a safe bet. In just the last few years, the gender gap has been increasing at a faster pace than before, as my colleague Lilli Petersen explained recently.

[...]

The Backlash And Its Potential

How is this all shaking out?

Overall, according to a recent Politico analysis, women are accounting for 55% of the early vote across battleground states. And in Pennsylvania, a state that many strategists consider the most important for each candidate, data suggests that early voting includes a relatively high proportion of Democratic women who did not vote there in 2020. Early voting is a notoriously unreliable predictor of outcomes, for the simple reason that the data about who is voting doesn’t say that much about how they are voting, especially in an environment without solid baselines for comparison. Early voting did not become particularly widespread until 2020, in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic and with Trump advising his supporters not to vote by mail. (This year, he’s generally encouraged them to vote early if they can.) But women are a larger proportion of the population and, historically, they have voted at higher rates too. Last month, political scientist and Brookings senior fellow Elaine Kamarck ran the numbers on different scenarios to see what would happen if women came out to vote in the same proportion as in 2020, given the latest polling numbers available. She found Harris would win Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — enough to win the election.

Donald Trump got his wish of this election being fought on gender roles and reproductive freedom... but it won't turn out like how he wanted it to go.

Read the full story at HuffPost.

[letters-from-dekarios]

so high school

summary: you’re the high school’s star football player. never would you have imagined that your eyes would set on the dorky english club head and class president during the hottest party of the year, but some things are meant to be.

or: you flirt with gale at a party

word count: 7.5k

tags: modern high school!au, 18!gale x 18!reader, m!reader, some VERY minor suggested NSFW, another t!swift inspired fic, all the people are in this one somehow, football coach halsin, english teacher mystra (still part of the hate club), high school tropes, kind of underaged drinking (i don’t condone!)

Being the best wasn’t easy. Whether it was sports, academics, or the streets, dealing with the pressure of staying on top of everything was about the most difficult thing someone could do. Having to do all of that, while still being young and impressionable, just made it all the more arduous.

Yet, here you stood— star of the football team, the greatest quarterback your school had in years. You were already being offered full-ride scholarships to play for some of the most formidable teams. Naturally, everything was going tremendously. How you’d managed to get this far was just astounding, especially considering you weren’t exactly known for being intellectual or getting all a’s. It spoke volumes to receive the stacks of offers from different colleges despite all that. A part of you couldn’t help but feel guilty for it, taking away the opportunities from someone who’d grow up to do much greater things in life than you. But the other part of you was just glad to be recognized for the hard work you put into your body.

After all, you were tall, lean, and incredibly fit. All the girls fawned over you like they were going to lose you if they didn’t. And you were hot, so that helped, too. Even some of the guys looked at you twice, despite the fact you were about 70% sure you didn’t swing that way. At least, you didn’t for the guys you caught looking at you. The other 30% was reserved for guys who looked like Flynn Rider, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, and a few of your teammates who you’d always joked that you’d date if you were a girl.

You were well-liked, popular, and knew anybody who was anybody in your hometown. You had connections thick and thin, and, really, you were the teamiest player who could play teams. Okay, that was stupid, but you were a teenage boy— virtually everything you said that wasn’t about football was.

It was getting to that time of year when all the school dances and after-parties were happening, and you were being invited to all of them. You, of course, were also accepting every invitation that came your way, making promises you knew you’d try, and fail, to keep. But, hey, at least you tried.

And then there was Gale. He was… well, a dork to say the least. He was handsome, sure, but he didn’t stand out to anyone besides being the class president and English club head. He was geeky, nerdy, and whatever other adjective you could think of for people who spent their free time analyzing the psychological effects of cannibalism in literature. Yeah, he was liked by the other nerds who were in the same club as him, but he wasn’t exactly popular. He was elected class president mostly as a joke, and you hated to admit that you were one of those votes. He was a nice guy and didn’t do anyone any harm but, alas, high school is a feeding ground for the wildest of beasts.

The most riveting thing about him was that there were rumors of him and the English teacher doing it in her classroom. With the way she looked at him and gave him unique treatment, it almost wasn’t even gossip. Everyone in the school believed it, and everyone in the school meant you, too. It wasn’t unheard of before, teachers going after their students, but that didn’t make it ethical or legal. Still, people talked about it like it was some article in the Sunday newspaper to be marveled at. Mostly, he kept to himself aside from the occasional class meeting that required him to talk to everyone, and was generally quiet.

This particular day happened to be one of his required meetings. You, and your grades’ peers, were gathered in the gymnasium for “information” on the school prom. Despite graduation coming so close, prom felt a million miles away.

You and your friends sat and joked with one another about mindless things, idiotic things, as you waited for whatever announcement was to come.

“Dude, when do you think it started?” Your friend, Wyll, asked you.

“What started?” You questioned, watching as he pointed to Mystra’s longing gaze directed behind the curtain. “Oh my god, we have this conversation like sixteen times a week. Can we please talk about something else?” You groaned, gaining a disapproving shove from Wyll.

“Oh, yes, I’d much rather talk about what we’re each going to have for dinner,” Astarion sarcastically remarked from behind you, kicking you softly. “Don’t be so dull! We have to get through this pointless meeting one way or another,” he pouted, and you nearly wanted to punch his perfect little face in.

“Don’t be so snide, Astarion. I’d much rather talk about that than the sex lives of our teachers,” Jenevelle retorted, rolling her eyes at all three of you.

“Tchk, boys. That is all they care about. Sticking their little wands into whatever hole will open for them,” Lae’zel added on, and all four of you audibly cringed at that. “What? Do I not speak the truth?”

You sighed, waving a hand to dismiss everyone’s comments. “Look, I want to figure out what our stupid prom theme is going to be and get out of here. Let’s talk sex when it won’t get us kicked out,” you told them, and a warning look from your coach, Halsin, signified your conversation was not as private as you thought.

“That’s enough, Mister Y/L/N,” Halsin called up to you, and you bowed your head in acknowledgement. Wyll nudged you playfully, and you snapped at him under your breath to cut it out.

“It is my pleasure and honor to introduce your beloved class president- Gale Dekarios!” Mystra, unmistakably, introduced Gale to the class who gave half-assed applause.

“Hello-“ Gale cleared his throat, glancing down at the notes he had written down. You always found it funny how anxious he’d get on stage. You’d see him start messing with the hem of his shirt, on the side, rubbing it repetitively between his fingertips, and then he’d start talking. This interaction was not foreign.

“On behalf of the students and faculty, it’s my pleasure to be able to announce this year’s prom theme with you all,” Gale began, and you heard some douchebag start booing him. He was quickly shut up by a teacher quickly shushing him, and Gale began again. “The faculty present at this event requested I start with the regulations first. So let’s get into that,” he smiled at everyone, turned a page, and went on.

“Oh brother, this guy stinks!” You heard one of your teammates reference behind you, a small chorus of laughter emitting from his section, you included. Gale went on about how there was no drinking, no aggressive or verbally offensive music, and definitely no sex. Some other rules were mentioned about dress and grooming but nobody ever paid any attention to those.

“This year’s prom theme is…” he allowed tension to build for a brief second, and then smiled as he looked up at everyone, “Midnight Masquerade!”

Your class erupted with both relief and joy. The previous year had ‘Under the Sea’ as their theme and it was a dumpster fire disaster. You all feared what the teachers and principal would decide but, thankfully, it seemed they pulled through this year.

“Looks like you might finally get laid, Lae’zel,” Jenevelle teased, only to be met with a hardened glare. “It’s only a joke, cut that out.”

Once the meeting was dismissed, everyone began discussing what their outfits would be. You had a few weeks to prepare, and you were already forming ideas in your head.

Those few weeks soon turned into days, and then hours as you and all your friends piled into a limo Wyll’s dad had rented for you all.

“Move over, asshole!” You finally got comfortable in the limo with some shifting about, everyone’s dates beside them. For the most part, at least.

“Dude, I thought you were going with Alfira? What happened to that?” Wyll asked you, and you shrugged.

“Dude,” you mocked, “We talked about this. She’s into girls, she’s going out with that one from the D&D club,” you reminded him, and he nodded in distinction.

“Damn, Y/N, going to the prom with no date? And I thought you were mister popular,” Astarion poked fun at you, while you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll be going to the afterparty with someone, don’t doubt me on that,” you chuckled, and Wyll whacked your arm playfully.

“That’s the spirit! Or, hey, maybe you’ll meet someone at the afterparty instead. I heard there’s supposed to be booze,” Wyll grinned at you, and you kicked him back.

“Yeah, 'cause it’s happening at your bigass mansion,” you joked, then you and your party were off.

You each slipped on your intricate masks as you drove into the parking lot. Yours matched your suit, a navy blue color that had intricate black designs hand-sewn into it. The patterns made out flowers and daggers, twisting together into an amalgamation. The mask itself was also a navy blue color, with black lace lined over top. Your tie was the reverse, black lace on blue fabric, and you wore a black shirt that complemented the entire outfit. You were the star of the show, as expected.

You ate, danced, took stupid photo booth pictures with your friends all crammed into the tiny box— you had a good time. Eventually, the voting opened for the prom royalties and you knew immediately who would win.

The night went on, and people partnered for the slower songs that played over the speakers. Somehow, you were pushed up against a guy and encouraged to dance together. You shrugged, pulled him against your waist, and followed the motions of those around you.

“You look nice,” he complimented, his hands resting up at your shoulders.

“So do you,” you returned his adoration and observed his suit. It was a deep purple color that matched his skin tone. Much like your own, it was stitched with a lighter purple and gold that made intricate starry designs. The mask hiding his face was also like yours, matching the color of his suit and overlaid with golden lace.

You leaned down towards him, pulling his waist flush against you as you whispered low into his ear. “You look like royalty,” you hummed, feeling his hands tighten at your shoulders.

“Thank you…” he smiled softly as your lips brushed against his cheek. The warmth radiated off of his face and pulled into your own, his blushing far from hidden even under the mask. “I don’t think you’d say that without the disguise, though..” he laughed awkwardly and you stood straight up again.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” You asked, continuing to move around the dance floor with him, moving between other couples.

“Just a… general observation,” he shrugged, messing with your hair gently.

You lowered down near him again, brushing your noses together while looking into his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a challenge,” you grinned, glancing down at his lips and then back up at his eyes. “I’ll find out who you are and you’ll be mine by the end of the school year,” you smirked, and he gave a half-smile back.

“You can certainly try,” he teased and then began to pull away from you as the song came to a close. He stepped back towards his group, eyes still trained on you.

“Oh, I will,” you nodded in recognition before going back to your friends, who were laughing hysterically at you.

There was something magical about the energy he had, one that couldn't be replicated so easily. Despite the minor interaction, you were drawn directly to him. You knew that he’d stick in your mind like a bad stain you couldn’t wash out, clinging to the foreground of your mind. You wouldn’t escape him even if you tried, and you didn’t exactly want to.

“What?” You asked, taking a drink handed to you from Jen as you returned.

“What do you mean ‘what’? You were practically making out with that guy!” Wyll laughed, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

“You pushed me to him!” You defended, hands in the air as if you were on trial.

“That doesn’t mean you have to cause a scene,” Jen teased, nudging you in the side.

“You guys are just jealous I have more game than you,” you chuckled, everyone hitting you playfully.

“Mate, if you have more game than me then that means I’m dead,” Karlach cackled, the girl at her side giggling at her comments.

“Screw all of you. Seriously.” You shook your head at them, striking up a different conversation while the music slowly quieted. The lights moved from the dance floor to the stage as one of the teachers walked on stage.

“Homecoming and prom, let’s do this,” you smiled down at Jenevelle as the votes were beginning to be counted. Hands interlocked, you’d been praying for this for weeks. It didn’t mean anything academically, but it was the event that counted. The two of you had won the year prior at your junior homecoming and were slated to win prom, too. You had been childhood best friends, none the wiser, and always voted each other for things like this. You shared every joyous moment like blood siblings, and you believed this would be another to add to your memories.

“Alright students, gather around!” All the masked teens huddled near the stage, everyone whispering about who would be voted up this year.

“This year’s prom royalties are…” Since it was a masquerade, they got around saying names by simply pointing you out in a crowd. Both winners were shown with a bright spotlight highlighting them.

You, unsurprisingly, were one of them. You turned to Jen, expecting her to be lit up like you were, but found her shrouded in darkness instead. You looked up at the teacher, beaming at the crowd and motioning for you to step on stage. You were confident you and Jen were going on stage together! But as your eyes found the other light, twinkling in the back of the crowd, you saw it shining on another boy.

Another guy? Who voted for him? And how did he get enough votes to kick Jen out of her spot you were so sure was secured?

Your heart broke for a moment realizing that you’d lost out on this with her. What was supposed to be your final bow turned into breaking ankles. It didn’t feel right.

Jen pat your arm reassuringly and motioned you up to the stage. You smiled despite the hurt, walked through the crowd, and stepped up in front of everyone. The other winner followed a moment after, his friends encouraging him to make his way up. You recognised the suit belonging to the mystery dancer from before, a piece of you glad for it to be him and not a stranger. Even though he was, still, a stranger.

“Let’s give a hand to our royals!” The teacher stepped away from the mic to clap, allowing the other faculty member to place the plastic crowns on each of your heads. You glanced over at the other, who was clearly uncomfortable, and sighed internally. You’d make this easy for him, at least.

“Just follow my lead,” You told him, taking his hand and holding each of yours up with your award-winning smile. You waved with your free hand and pulled him down the stairs and to the dance floor. He barely contested with you, allowing you to guide him. You pondered over the challenge you’d proposed, wondering how you’d find out who he was. You only had so long to do it, of course, so you had to be on your toes to memorize any detail you could about him.

“Now, our traditional slow dance!” The same teacher called into the microphone before the music faded back in over the speakers.

“Just like before, yeah?” Raising a suggestive eyebrow at him, you wrapped your arm tightly around his waist, hand planted firmly against his lower back. His hands went back up to your shoulders like they had before, steadying himself against you.

“I didn’t mean to steal this from her,” the boy apologized, and you made a face to brush off the comment.

“You didn’t exactly look thrilled to do this, so I can’t assume you voted for yourself,” you shrugged, tugging him close by the waist. You took one of his hands, spun him away from you, and then back in. “Besides, I can get more clues from you this way. And put on a little show,” your eyes flicked towards the people recording, and the boy in your arms nodded in understanding.

���Thanks, for this,” he replied, smiling faintly at you. You could only nod your head to accept his gratitude, though you would have done the same no matter who was there with you.

When it finally ended, you two parted ways without much discussion and returned to your friend groups yet again. Though, the air was different this time.

“That was the same guy. Who is he?” Jen asked, and you shrugged. You had no idea, but you wanted to find out.

“I have no idea, but he’s cool,” you took the crown off your head and popped it on hers, smiling down at Jen. “There, now you can experience it,” you joked.

She took the crown off, and handed it back to you, flattening out her hair. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to get head lice from you,” she shook her head, freeing herself of the thought.

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, ruffling her hair slightly, causing her to whack your arm.

“Hey! That was crazy!” Karlach came running over, another girl in her arms, tossing her other across your shoulders. Sometimes you wondered why she wasn’t the quarterback, but she much preferred other sports.

“You going to the afterparty?” You asked over the music as it got louder again, consuming your thoughts.

“Hells yeah I am! You?” She asked, shaking you slightly in excitement.

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t go!” You laughed with her, though you could never understand her excitement half the time. She was good company, and you knew the afterparty would be ten times more enjoyable with her there, so who were you to complain?

Your group noticed people starting to leave and took that as your queue to head out. You slipped back into the limo, the party continuing on with the drive back to Wyll’s.

With everyone linked up with their significant others, or their dates for only the one night, you couldn’t help feeling lonely. Each of your friends had a partner, and you were just.. there. Fame meant nothing if there was nobody to share it with. And, no, you weren’t going to not share it with your friends— but sharing it with a lover was so much different. It would’ve been nice to have someone to joke with about dancing with another person that wasn’t them. Yeah, you claimed you didn’t really “swing that way” but, maybe, you kind of did? After all, you’d just essentially flirted with a guy for half the night. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it if it meant you had a partner who fit against you like the missing piece of your puzzle.

“You look spaced out, Y/N, you good?” Wyll asked suddenly, and you snapped out of the daze you’d been in.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! I’m just thinking about how tired we’re going to be tomorrow,” you laughed, and Jen patted your knee in agreement. With all the thoughts bouncing around your head, you were sure you’d leave almost immediately after arriving. But at least you tried!

In the back of the limo, as you all pulled up to the event, each of you began shimmying out of your tight-fitting clothes. Thankfully, you had on an undershirt and pants stored in the car so your change was rather easy. You stuck your suit under the seat to grab later while you changed out of your shoes.

“Hey, Wyll, thank your dad for getting this bigass limo for us!” Karlach shouted as she helped Jen out of her dress, everyone tangled within one another as they changed.

“Yeah, and for hosting the afterparty,” you added, everyone cheering because you knew you’d have a good time.

Once you pulled up, you were back to being stupid, wild teenagers again. Some people stayed in their outfits, but not many, and most had gotten comfortable long before they got there.

Once again, music cut through your thoughts as you entered. You flipped a switch instantaneously, smiling and waving at people who knew you as you passed through. You caught up in idle conversations here and there, laughing with your teammates and drinking back the lingering feeling you had earlier. But the longer the party went on, the lonelier you got.

You were so adored by everyone that nobody considered loving you. How does that even happen?

Maybe you were just notorious for turning girls down- claiming you didn’t want anything serious. It’s not like you slept around, either. You tried to be a gentleman, but the girls who always wanted you only wanted to change you. They wanted you for their little football player fantasies, and when they couldn’t have you they moved on to someone else. It was weird. You shined and sparkled like the night sky, but who was your moon to ignite the atoms that made you who you were?

Eventually, in your tipsy state, you ended up alone in a library, seeking solace from the throbbing of the world around you. Red solo cup in hand, slumped down on the white leather couch, you scrolled aimlessly through your phone. You didn’t hear the door creak open until it was shut, and someone sat on the couch next to you.

“Oh- sorry. I hope you don’t mind,” you turned your head to look at who had joined you, only to find Gale seated there.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, taking another sip and going back to your phone. “Trying to find quiet from the party?” You asked, not bothering to look up.

“Ah… yes. I wasn’t exactly expecting to receive an invitation and I’m quite dreading the fact I said yes and showed up,” he chuckled, and you saw him messing with his shirt like usual out of the corner of your eye.

“You do that a lot,” you remarked suddenly, and he looked confused.

“Apologies? I do what a lot?” He asked, head tilted at you.

“The shirt thing. When you get nervous you rub the corner hem of your shirt between your fingers.”

“You noticed that?”

You blinked at your phone, realizing what you’d said aloud. You didn’t mean it in a bad way, it was just an observation of his habits. After all, you had to stare at him while he talked about class politics and whatnot for hours during the semesters- you saw him do it all the time.

“I don’t.. sorry, I…” you cleared your throat, taking a sip of the drink in your cup with a small shrug. “Don’t mean it in a bad way, I guess. I just noticed it,”

“Oh. Okay.”

Gale pulled out his phone, knee bouncing as he got comfortable and assumed a position similar to yours.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he added after a second, and you weren’t sure what he meant.

“On what?”

“Being prom king. It was expected, but congratulations anyway,” he smiled over at you, and you returned it half-heartedly.

“Thanks. I have no clue who was up there with me, though,” you laughed slightly, though the confusion was genuine. Something felt so right about dancing there with that boy that you weren’t sure what it was. Fate, or simply that nagging longing in the back of your mind looking for someone to fill the void?

Gale was about to respond, but several of your teammates came barging in, all yelling and talking over one another.

“Dude! Lae’zel just got dared to jump in the pool from the roof and she’s gonna do it!” You finally made out, and your face changed as you ran out with them to watch her.

Chaos resumed and your thoughts were no longer your own again, instead they belonged to the teenage relevancy of idiotic decisions and crazed actions. When you all returned inside, dry, save for Lae’zel, you kept up with the party once more.

But your eyes kept flickering back to the library, and then around the room. Gale had such an interesting aura about him, you couldn’t put a finger on it. Then, your mind wandered and you wondered if you could tell who your mystery dancer was, like Cinderella’s prince.

You tried to recall the details of the masked man, the way his eyes creased with your jokes, laughing like you were the best comedian there could be. The way his lips turned with his emotions, covering but not concealing what he was truly thinking.

“Dude, did you see Gale showed up? We all thought he’d be all up in Mystra by now!” One of your friends cackled, and you laughed slightly, but not really wholeheartedly this time.

“You know that’s not really that funny,” you stated, and the looks you got were borderline dangerous. It was like jumping into a pit of snakes and stepping on their tails- you had stepped into hazardous territory with your challenge.

“What?”

“I said it’s not funny.”

“Are you serious right now? Since when did you care about Gale? We joke about him all the time!” That struck a nerve. The guy had been nothing but nice to everyone and this is how he got treated? You almost felt sick. But why now? Why did it suddenly matter?

“Just- drop it, okay? Let’s have fun without screwing people over,” you waved their discussion off and moved to play beer pong with some people. The party began to dwindle, and you caught Gale in a group of some people looking like he was enjoying himself. At least he had that going for him.

Eventually, there were only a few people left in the room, and someone had the bright idea to play spin the bottle mixed with truth or dare.

“Alright, we need some ground rules here,” Jen said as she folded her legs neatly while she sat on the floor.

“Either truth or dare, or you kiss the person who spun you,” someone else said, and everyone seemed to agree on that.

Shots were handed out and, with newfound confidence, you and the small group were enjoying yourselves. Stupid pranks were being pulled, dumb secrets were being untold, and things were getting heated. Kind of, at least. Some people had gone home, which left you, Wyll, Lae’zel, Jenevelle, Karlach, Astarion, and Gale. Astarion was just kissing everyone whenever he didn’t like the dare, Karlach was full-throttle choosing dare every time, Jen only picked truth until someone forced her to pick dare, and between Wyll and Lae’zel you couldn’t tell who was more balanced in choices. Though, Lae’zel had less clothes on than anyone so perhaps her scales were tilted. Gale, he was the odd one. He’d stay away from choosing to kiss someone and hadn’t kissed anyone at all. You realized you hadn’t either, and the two of you kept going back between truths and dares so nobody forced you to do so.

“Gods, this is getting boring! Someone needs to make out.” Astarion yawned, draped over Karlach with his shirt tossed off to the side.

Wyll spun the empty bottle in the center of your group and it landed on you once it finally slowed to a stop. Within seconds, he got a bright idea in his head. There was no way you’d end up kissing him, not in a million years, and Astarion wanted action. What better way to do so than messing with you?

“Truth or dare, mate,” he grinned at you, and you sighed. You hadn’t picked dare in a while, so it was time.

“Dare. Give it to me good, jackass,” you smiled right back at him and watched in abject horror as his grin turned into a smirk.

“I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with…”

He paused, looked at the crew of people left, and then met Gale’s shy gaze. “Gale.”

“What?” You both asked in unison, almost making the same face at him.

“Go on. Or you can kiss me, but, I don’t think you want to do that,” he smirked, and you cursed everything in him that made him that way.

“You’re an asshole.”

“There’s a bedroom right around the corner, might as well take that one,” he ushered you two up, and you both begrudgingly stood. “Your timer starts... Now!” He closed the door after walking you inside and locked it almost immediately.

“Look, we don’t have to-“

“It’s alright,” Gale interrupted you, waving a hand to dismiss your concern as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll mess up my hair and shirt in a few moments and they’ll be none the wiser if you do the same.” He smiled, and you recognized the pain behind the eyes. Too bright to be looked at without burning, he sought nearly the same thing as you. “I’m only here as a joke anyway, right?” He chuckled sadly, shrugging. “You don’t have to make me feel like more of one.”

“That’s not—“

“I overheard you talking about me. Quite plenty of people forget that I, too, have ears. You all believe I’m imperiously deafened to the rumors you spread in the halls. I hear them all, you know. I know where they begin and I know the last person who’s been touched by them. There’s no stopping the wildfire that’s been set ablaze in my wake, the vicious jokes made in my name, the roughened edges I’ve created to save myself from it all. But please, I ask that you not twist the dagger any more than it’s already been plunged inside me.”

You blinked at him, not… exactly sure of what to say to that. As you decoded the poetic words in your mind, you understood his point clearer.

“I’m sorry, about all of that,” you began, sitting down beside him and messing with your hands. “I don’t really know why they—“

“You say it too.”

You cleared your throat and began again, “Why we… say all that stuff. It’s just bullshit to keep us entertained, I guess,” you shrugged, head low as you thought of all the people you indirectly hurt climbing your way to the top. How many others like him did you turn to gold with your Midas touch? Forever banning them to a life of solitude in your shadow, forcing them under your submission, and rarely quashing the arbitrary lies that were told under you? How many people had you turned into stone statues with your headdress of snakes? Those who claimed to identify as friends but ruined your peace in the process? Would you ever find out? Would you ever have the time to apologize for letting your kingdom go so cold as the heat of your infamy died down?

“It hurts, so you’re aware. Mystra.. she’s not what you all believe her to be. She’s quite the teacher, and she sees the potential that I have in her class,” Gale sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to do right by people, whether or not I’m put in positions of power as a sick prank. I could have declined, but who else would take my place? Who would have stepped up and made the changes for all of you like I had? I fight for the good and get treated like the dirt beneath everyone’s feet.” He coughed and then shook his head. “I know it’s not just you. But I heard you tonight, so right now it’s about you and everyone else, too. I don’t mean to discard these feelings on you but…” he trailed off.

“I tried defending you. I don’t think you’re a bad person and you definitely haven’t gotten as much recognition as you should have,” you started, trying to find the words. “I didn’t… get to know you, and just made opinions based on stupid rumors. I’m sorry. About that.” You cleared your throat once more, and a quiet hush fell between the space that separated you. He didn’t owe you a thanks for your apologies over your hurtful actions, and he wasn’t about to offer one, either.

“You’re really… uh… what’s the word?”

“Eloquent?”

“Yeah, eloquent. I see it.. now,” you smiled over at him and then looked to the floor once more.

“Thanks,” he returned your grin, and then quiet fell into the bedroom once more.

“Three-minute warning!” You heard Wyll call from outside the door, and the two of you groaned in unison.

“You have a girlfriend?” You asked him, and he shook his head no. “Are you… not into girls?”

“What-“ his face flushed and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Like, are you gay? I mean, it’s cool, there’s a shit ton of gay people at our school. I was just asking,” you shrugged.

“I… I’m not exactly..”

“Out of the closet?”

“Can you let the words come from my mouth before you finish my sentences?” He huffed, and you made the motion of locking your lips. “I do like women. But I also like men. And I like whatever is the in-between of it all,” he started again and then sighed. “To me, it’s more about connection and personality. I can have a romantic relationship with just about anyone, but it’s not because of their gender. It’s because of who they are as a person, do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you nodded, looking over at his shoes. A striking familiarity crossed in your mind, as you connected the shoes he was wearing to the man you’d danced with earlier in the night. You gazed up at his face, studying it intently.

“Do I have something on me?” He asked, wiping at his face.

“You’re him…” you replied, leaning closer toward him.

“What- who..?”

You gently grabbed his chin, turning his face towards your own as you studied the details of him. You couldn’t be mistaken, you’d recognize those eyes anywhere. You laughed slightly, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

“What…” You could see it in his eyes, he knew exactly what you meant. But could he dare indulge in it? In the idea of you?

“The one I danced with tonight, the other royal…” you hummed, smirking softly as you leaned back again. “You knew it was me, didn’t you?”

He stuttered in an attempt to find a lie, an excuse, but gave up after a moment of embarrassment. “Who couldn’t?” He replied, lowering his head in shame.

“You know—“

“Just kiss me.”

You blinked, glancing over at him. He made eye contact with you, strong and unwavering, and you raised a brow.

“Don’t lead me on to something I know is never going to happen. Don’t set your sights on me and leave me high and dry. It’s not fair for you to make me feel a certain way and then hang me on your line of people you’ve caught in the traps you unknowingly laid. Please, just get it over with bec-“

You grabbed his face, pressing your lips together hastily. Why? Did you just want to get this over with so you could each move on?

You didn’t know him as well as your friends, but this aching feeling came bursting through your chest. It desired to be let go, set free into the world. You needed him, your other half, to balance you out. Something in you knew this wasn’t just a one-off moment to save him the heartbreak, you knew you were now tied to one another whether you’d like it or not. But you could pretend to be “getting it over with” for the sake of this interaction.

His hand steadied himself on your shoulder, and you wrapped an arm around his waist. Swiftly, you pulled him into you and onto your lap, your other hand on the back of his head to keep him there. He made a small noise you could akin to satisfaction, and you laughed against his lips. Your head tilted to the side, leaning up into him as the kiss continued. Your hands moved down to his sides, grabbing his waist tightly.

He broke it off after a second, his breathing heavy as he looked down at you. His eyes screamed love and lust all in one, wrapped in a delicate bow, those soft eyes of his and the lingering smile tying it all together.

“You…”

“Hm?” You tilted your head at him, bringing his chin down to grab his attention. He focused entirely on you, eyes connected and unbreaking.

“You’re really good at that…” he laughed nervously, adjusting the way he sat in your lap. You felt him up against you, and a sly smirk found its way onto your face.

“Yeah? You think so?” You asked, pulling his hips forward, hands slipping around to his ass.

“I mean, I have a practiced tongue with what I read, but..”

“A practiced tongue?” You laughed at him, squeezing where you could as you threw your head back.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” He whacked your chest, which only made you laugh more.

“What, you get practice rolling your r’s over those fancy words of yours?” You cackled, leaning up towards him once again.

“You’re so childish,” he tsk-ed, lowering his head down to you, your noses touching again.

“But you seem to be into it,” you claimed, raising the argument with him.

“This feels just… so high school,” he stated, and you tilted your head as to what that meant. He noted your confusion and continued, “Truth or dare, spin the bottle… you know how to ball, I know Aristotle…” he raised both eyebrows, hoping you understood the trope he was getting at.

You laughed again at his comment, shaking your head at him. “You’re so funny,”

“It’s true! Swear, scouts honor,” he leaned into you, brushing his lips against yours. Then, out of pure adrenaline, he said something he never would’ve imagined ever stating to anyone else. “I want you to touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto…”

You smirked at that, connecting your lips briefly. “You’re gonna have to stifle your sighs for that one,” you teased, kissing him again. He returned your kiss, allowing you to trace your lips down his neck.

“Times u-“ Wyll burst in, and then stared directly at both of you. You were rather unfazed by it, but Gale turned to stone in your arms. You continued kissing his neck, ignoring Wyll just… standing there. Hello? Say something!

“Fuck off, Wyll.”

“Yeah! Yep! I’m- ahuh!” Wyll turned back around and closed the door again, shell-shocked from what he perceived as a horror before him. Not that gay people scared him, but you were kissing Gale? He didn’t actually expect you two to be like that.

“Y/N-“ Gale pleaded, gently pushing at your shoulders.

“Hmm?” You switched sides, slipping your hands under his shirt and holding tight onto his waist.

“Please-“ He pushed again on your shoulders, and you got the hint. You pulled back and looked up at him, in awe of his beauty.

“This was really, really nice. But I don’t.. want to do this if it’s just to prove a point,” he slipped out of your hold and stood up, fixing his hair and his shirt.

“That’s not-“

“Again, spare me. Spare me from the horrors that will unfold from your pursuit of this. Whatever reason you might have, I don’t desire to be the object of any more jokes,” he cleared his throat, clearly holding back the pain he felt.

“Gale-“

“Please,” He begged, his voice quiet. He didn’t want to become a laughingstock if things went south.

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up defensively. You stood, running a hand through your hair. He was about to leave, but you grabbed his hand before he could. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you paused, letting go of his hand as you looked down at him.

“But I do… want to get to know you. We can be friends, yeah?” You pulled out your phone from your pocket, holding it towards him to input his number. “Doesn’t have to be anything else. And I can probably get people to stop making rumors,” you offered, and Gale sighed at you.

“Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?” He asked quizzically as he inputted his number. What was that supposed to mean?

“It’s just a game-“

“But really,” he looked up at you, sighing once again. “I’m betting on all three for us two.” He handed your phone back, his hand slipping down to rub the edge of his shirt. He laughed a little bit at the idea of marriage. Gods, no. “No one’s ever had me, not like you. I don’t want things to go south if we head into things too strongly,” he pushed his hands into his pockets, all too aware of his anxious stimming. “I’d appreciate it if you’d get rid of the rumors. We can be friends, but that’s all I’d like for right now.”

“Can we make out every once in a while because I’m kinda getting the practiced tongue thing now-“ you joked, only to be met with Gale shoving you slightly.

“What did I just say, Prometheus?”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” You saved his number in your phone and then opened the door for him to leave. Skipping past everyone, you led Gale out to his car. “Uh.. who’s Prometheus? Asking for a friend, definitely not for me,”

“You don’t know who Prometheus is?” Gale stopped walking entirely to look at you with horror and hurt, a look worse than when he talked about the rumors. Jesus, this guy cared about literature more than anything.

“Is it an English club thing? I only ‘know how to ball’,” you recounted his former comment, laughing as he made a face of annoyance now, walking to his car without another word.

“Oh, come on! That was a funny sentence!” You followed him as he got into the driver’s seat, and you leaned against the window while he started the car. You knocked on the window, pouting at him softly.

He rolled the window down and you took the opportunity to reach in, open the door from the inside, and lean on the top of the car while keeping him from closing it again. “Don’t be mad at me, Dekarios,” you grinned at him, but that didn’t change the annoyance in his eyes.

“Is this how you treat all your friends?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, arms crossed tight over his chest now.

“Just the ones I really like…” you lowered yourself down towards his face, biting your bottom lip slightly. He pushed your face to the side, ignoring the temptation.

“I’d prefer if you liked me a little less, just for now,” he retorted, and you laughed at his joke wholeheartedly.

“I’ll try,” you nodded, hitting the top of the car as you stepped back and closed the door for him. “Get home safe, yeah? I’m going to send you my number.”

“I’ll try,” he copied, and you couldn’t help but want to kiss his pretty little face again and again and again and- okay, we get the idea.

As you watched him drive off, your heart felt a little less lonely. You weren’t technically dating, and it would take a goddamn long time before you’d get there, but you had a friend with hope for you. A not-so-more-than-friends, friend.

You entered back into the mansion with a stupid grin on your face that was instantly wiped away as you saw everyone staring at you.

“So, you made out with Gale, huh?”

“I actually fucking hate you guys,” you laughed as you rejoined the group, recounting the entire event that was getting to make out with Gale Dekarios.

Maybe it was the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet endings, and brand new beginnings. You couldn’t tell what possessed you to be like that with him, and Gale wondered the same on his way home.

In a few years, where would you find yourselves? You hoped you’d be waking up to your poet wrapped in your arms, comfortable in the space you’d created together. But you were still in high school, and lots of things could change between now and then.

For now? You’d just be happy with what you had.

[anloartreduster]

Hey guys! How’s it going? Hope, you’re all doing well (: ! I’m finally able to post something after a million years later as I’ve finally completed both my work and finals for this college semester, so I’ll be posting more this winter break for sure. This is one of the projects I’ve been wondering on the side lines that’s been delayed so many times, but finally, since everything is over things can start rolling along. In this post I’m just going to be talking about my thought process throughout my drawing!

Q. What is this mural for?

A. This mural is for students who go into the student engagement lobby in my college, which I also go there, although more specifically it’s going to be located in the gaming room.

Moving forward with this project, I had decided that I didn’t want the character to be human, but instead I thought an animal would be best suited for this composition. In fact, I remember my high school teacher talking about how humans find anthropomorphized animals more relatable, how we empathize with them more, and how we can find many examples of that idea throughout comics, along with other pieces of literature. Originally, I wanted to make the character a bird, but after some rough drafting I found that would be challenging and maybe a bit too much for the piece, so I settled for a cat.

Afterwards, I made a few palettes to test them on the cat to see how they would possibly look and what would make an interesting character design. Most of these cats, specially 1,3, and 4 were based off cats I found off Pinterest since I don’t know many cat breeds myself since I’m mostly into birds. Next, cat 2 is based off the Maneki-neko which I’ve seen back in my old neighborhood in restaurants and, maybe once, at a family friend’s house. Last, the 5th cat is from a suggestion from one of the people who showed me Morgana from Persona 5.

I held a voting on my instagram to which the 4th cat got the most votes, although things would end up taking a completely different route.

This is one of my projects where I struggled the most with creating as many thumbnails as possible… my professor in my summer semester for 2D design told us 15-20 thumbnails would be good as that allows for a lot of variety and would be a good way for trying to expand our creative boundaries by trying new ideas or at least figuring solutions to our problems. Sadly, I’ve only made 7 in total to which 4 of them aren’t included in this post. My brain was really stuck on this idea of doing this specific perspective, along with pose, for this character. Within all the thumbnails, I tried adding items from serveral different board games and adding a controller to really communicate the idea of “this is a gaming room where you can play anything you want with your friends.”

This is the stage where a lot of things just got thrown away as it made the piece feel oversaturated with ideas, so I just boiled it down to a cat jumping up in an energetic pose with a controller with the phrase “let’s game” at the topic. I was going to add one more videos, but it seems that I’m only allowed to insert one video. In the first video, I had realized that I had already a pre-picked palette for this mural I had done a while back that I ended up using then boiling it down to a more simpler palette as this is the first time I’m doing a mural and I don’t want to do anything crazy nor out of my abilities.

That’s it for this post! I’m going to be making some more blogs about different projects during this winter break (: Hope to see you all soon on the next post!

[phoenixyfriend]

This is a bit of a silly question, but you honestly seem to know a lot about political, business, and economics, so I thought I would ask.

So I’m seventeen, soon to be applying to universities, but I’m already so disillusioned with the world. Like, don’t get me wrong, I still have hope in collective action and volunteering and voting and all that, it just makes me sad that the entire world has kind of gone to hell. I like english literature and I like history and I like studying them, so I used to hop to study both at uni. I wanted to get a job as a teacher, because I want to make a difference in the world and have more variety than a typical desk job.

However. Being on Tumblr since the age of thirteen has taught me that no matter how kind or good or hardworking one person is, or even a lot of people are, one politician can still screw things up for entire groups of people. I mean… a few politicians overturned Roe Vs Wade and that sort of thing. The disability benefits bank account thing. Politicians have an enormous amount of sway over the world, and that area seems to be where someone could make the most difference.

From what I’ve seen of a political science degree, I genuinely don’t think I would enjoy it much, but I could get through it. I want to make a difference in the world very badly — it’s the only sort of legacy I care about leaving behind. And I thought being a teacher could do that for me, but the scale of being a teacher and a politician are on entirely different levels, and Tumblr has really shown me that.

So I guess I’m just asking, since you seem to be passionate making the world better too. Do you think I should study politics, so that I can try and change things on a large scale? Or study what I love and make a much smaller impact.

I honestly don't think I'm the best person to ask this question. A lot of how I ended up where I am was a matter of luck, including the luck of having parents who let me live with them rent free while I put together some savings (and even while I was unemployed).

I don't know a whole lot about polisci. I was a business major and, honestly, that major did not come in useful when hunting for a job after college... partly because all the jobs it was a foot in the door for were uhhhhhh let's go with Not The Right Fit. Most polisci majors are... I guess probably pre-law and intending to become lawyers, and lawyers do in fact often become politicians, so there's that.

My first instinct is actually 'learn a trade and join a union.' The last few years have been pretty evidential of the impact that unions can still have on both the business world and politics in general: see the impact that UAW is having, at least in the media, on the presidential election. Unions are also a pretty solid option for local networking, which is pretty key when it comes to having an impact on local or regional politics. A trade job is also something that is in high demand, stable, and pays reasonably well in most places, including paid apprenticeships, so it would give you the financial stability to focus your free time on what you want instead of on stretching to pay the bills, or having to worry about student loans. It also gives you an expertise or specialty that you can then leverage as 'evidence' of understanding the working class as a unit when engaging in something like a town hall.

Being in a union or other local organization will also give you a more hands-on understanding of how politics and things like that work, as you'll have things like contract negotiations, union votes, and policy debates going on regularly.

If you aren't the kind of person who thinks they're a fit for trade work (I'm definitely not), then college might be the right fit! But I'd definitely consider going into it with a plan for how you want to impact the world. Look up some charities or impact organizations and see what it is that they need. A lot of places are looking for grants writers or financial coordinators, or just someone who can do the accounting. It's not glamorous, and it's not like you'll be held up as a hero the way a doctor in a warzone is, but keeping track of funds or writing letters requesting funding from the government, for something like Doctors Without Borders or Planned Parenthood or Coalition for the Homeless is still an important part of the process.

Local volunteer work is also often a lot more personally satisfying and requires less overhead, so more of the money goes directly into the community you want to help, e.g. the grant writers and accountants do need a salary in a huge organization, but a local soup kitchen can probably just hire someone from the local tax office once every few months and call it good. Doing volunteer work once a month, for a soup kitchen or a homeless shelter or summer childcare program, can make way more of an impact than maybe getting a position as a staffer for a politician you may not even like that much.

That said, if you think you're good at polisci, that you'd be good at law, or that you can get a different degree with polisci as a minor that would then help you enter politics directly... maybe college for polisci is the right choice for you. Maybe you have the finances to not worry about loans, you have parents that would be supportive, and you can find an effective position after you graduate.

I can't make that decision for you. If you have a guidance counselor and they're any good--not a guarantee, but let's hope--talk to them. If you don't have a guidance counselor, maybe find a trusted teacher, or a local librarian, something like that. I don't really know you or your situation well enough to tell you what to do, but hopefully I've given you something to think about.

[docholligay]

Consider a setting where graduating from a certain school gives you the right to wield political power on a national level, depriving everyone who doesn’t attend of the right to vote, but the bottom third students of every year get transformed into magical slaves. How terribly would the Senshi or Overwatch crew handle that?

Okay, so, let's get this out of the way first: WHAT THE FUCK.

Now that we've taken that important break, let's think about this.

Do we know what they teach at this school? Because I think that would be a large part of my decision for this. Some of the cannier players in the game would enter if they thought they stood a chance, but by the very nature of the thing they ALSO know that the best of the best are going to go here. Do you think you're in the top 66% of 1000 driven and probably proven intelligent people? I mean, I probably would be like, "I guess I am a voteless worker bee."

So, for the purposes of this question, we'll assume it's a standard high school type setup, with, fuck, I'm just doing this for the purposes of answering. We'll use what was the AP track for each at my high school, because, well, I'm familiar with it.

Math : Algebra, Geometry, Trig, Calc

Science: Earth, Biology, Chemistry, Physics

English: Four years of upper level Literature courses focusing on analysis and knowledge of the canon.

History: (Insert country of origin here), Government, World i, World ii

Language: Four years of a language, I took Spanish.

And then we can make space for other shit. We had 6 periods a day, but not every day had to be the same. Whatever, we'll go with the guideline.

SAILOR MOON

Rei goes because Rei has never been humble for even one moment in her life, and also she wants to boss the entire country around. She knows that she is going to be in the top 66%, and also probably graduate first in the class, she's just that smart. Is she though???? We don't see one way or the other, and I think of her as a sort high-middling student, and in an environment like this one, I could see her maybe ending up on bottom.

Minako would never do it unless she was sure she could find a good way to cheat on everything. Minako's not stupid, but I do think she can be a little intellectually lazy. Sitting down and actually doing the work would take her aback a little bit, but I also think she knows that and also isn't too proud to admit, to herself at least, that she might be in danger there.

Michiru's family has so much money and influence that even if she can't vote, she can vote, so I don't see her willingly putting herself through that.

Haruka would not attend, but it would only be because Minako stopped her from some desperate and quasi-suicidal jaunt to prove herself worthy or some shit. She knows its dumb, Mina knows its dumb, but here she is, signing up for it! It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Overwatch:

Lena has laughed herself out of the building already. Thanks but no thanks. Voting isn't worth the entirety of a physics class and having to do well in it on top of everything else. She'll go wash glasses in a pub if she has to, goodbye.

Fareeha acknowledges that it is a difficult task, and it will encourage a high level of competition, but luckily, rigorous testing of her abilities is a boon in her eyes. She spends long nights studying and sharpening her acumen. Literature is never her strongest class, and she does worry about it, but she gets it together just fine, and is strong enough in everything else.

Mercy is the sort that is more than smart enough for this sort of thing, but I don't know that she would want to sign up for it because it just seems cruel. It seems wrong. She will, of course, be talked into taking a spot, because better someone with her scruples than someone chomping at the bit to have the power.

Dva is following Lena out the door but she's posting the whole reel to TikTok, including she and Lena popping babychams in the parking lot.

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

Propaganda under the cut.

Monika:

she killed all the other characters so she could score a date w u but its ok bc i did want to go on a date w her. she went insane when she realized she wasnt real and her life was a game it happens i forgive her <3

Just Monika.

Endorsement From Another Pollrunner!

AND From A Gimmick Blog?

Cinder Fall:

Ok so Cinder is a high level henchwoman for a depressed immortal woman who wants to destroy the planet. Cinder also has her own agenda though, as a child she was basically sold into servitude for this shitty woman who ran a high-end hotel and her two shitty daughters. Cinder met a Huntsman (Huntsman kill Grimm, creatures of darkness, and protect civilians) while working at the hotel. The Huntsman trained Cinder to be a Huntsman, so that she could eventually leave the hotel. He basically said “just wait so you can get out of this abusive situation in a way that’s good for everyone.” Cinder, having none of that bullshit, eventually snapped and killed her boss and her boss’s daughters. The Huntsman was upset about that, so she killed him too. Girl power. While working for the depressed immortal woman, Cinder killed the Fall Maiden (there’s one Maiden for each season and each has elemental powers, and the last person a current Maiden thinks of before she dies is the new Maiden) and becomes the new Fall Maiden. Throughout the series she goes on to kill, injure and betray a shit ton of people, including her allies. She’s fucking ruthless and very ambitious. If we were assigning superlatives, I would vote Cinder “Most Likely To Run An MLM”. Also, she is very visibly cool as hell and was part of my gay awakening.

Her basis is Cinderella. Her story is, well, Cinderella, but if she'd lashed out at her abusers and her fairy godmother abandoned her. Cinder will do anything for power, including collapsing multiples countries and killing multiple beloved characters (and dozens upon dozens of civilians). While she is power hungry she's smart about it. Conniving and willing to backstab even those who assist her in her quest for power. Plays a rich asshole for her own needs then kills him when she doesn't need him anymore. She's just so cool lol

She has killed people but she was basically a child slave and is being manipulated. She seeks power because she thinks it will bring her freedom. Brought down two kingdoms (with help)

[disneyswiftpolls]

Vote for Ariel here (closes Friday, 10/29)

Submit song suggestions for upcoming heroine polls

Info Post with previous winners

Reasonings for each song suggestion below the cut:

"Call It What You Want" from Reputation

Belle is used to being judged by the townspeople, having been labeled as an outsider for *checks notes* reading too much and not wanting to marry the town's resident evil hunk. She doesn't care what they think about her and her love for the Beast. They can call it what they want to...

My castle crumbled overnight I brought a knife to a gunfight They took the crown, but it's alright All the liars are calling me one Nobody's heard from me for months I'm doing better than I ever was 'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

"Hey Stephen" from Fearless (TV)

A song about looks being deceiving and seeing past them to the person inside? Kind of spot on for Belle.

Hey Stephen, I know looks can be deceiving But I know I saw a light in you And as we walked we would talk And I didn't say half the things I wanted to

"When Emma Falls in Love" from Speak Now (TV)

In the song, Emma is portrayed as a resilient and assertive woman who does not lose her sense of self when she falls in love. Whereas she has a powerful and transformative impact on the men who fall in love with her.

Also...I mean...every line of the chorus is describing Belle...

'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town And all the bad boys would be good boys If they only had a chance to love her And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her

"the lakes" from folklore

Belle's love for literature is one of her defining characteristics. Aesthetically, all of the literary references in this song are perfect for her. Thematically, the song is about "eccentric and odd artists" who created their own community to escape from the heckling and judgement of others--escaping with the thing/person that was most important to them.

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse I want auroras and sad prose I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet 'Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Can't be all perks

Warnings: heavy angst!!

I listened to this whilst writing

Thank you to everyone who voted on the who-to-kill poll! We're nearing the end of my Xue Yang writing era <3

Enjoy!!

Being a sect heir comes with many perks. The most obvious is, of course, financial freedom. The money. If you're the son of a sect leader, even if it's a smaller sect, cash racks in and you have nearly unlimited access to it.

Ouyang Zizhen has never been a frivolous spender, though - well, if you don't count his propensity for books, that is. He does have a large, diverse library of literature of all kinds, from all lands that merchants sell from, and he has no qualms adding more to it whenever the chance arises. He loves to read nearly as much as he loves to write.

That's another thing he splurges on - writing brushes and fine quality paper. He always argues that the quality of his stories should be reflected in the medium they are written in - a bit of an arrogant assessment considering most of his stories are... adult commissions, to put it elegantly, but this has historically been the only way for his father to be convinced that his son's hobby shouldn't be done away with in favor of something else, "more useful".

Well, to Zizhen, writing is very useful. Not only does he make some extra cash of his own on the side (that he doesn't have to account to anybody for, unlike his sect money), but it also makes him happy. He likes creating worlds, characters and convoluted situations to put them in. It's like mentally playing with dolls - or at least that's what Jingyi says, and Zizhen agrees.

The second best perk of being a sect heir is the fact that, with some exceptions, he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to. He can even use the guise of "furthering sect relations" to travel to his heart's content, visiting his friends in Gusu, or even taking the trip to Lanling to gossip with Jin Ling.

He's been enjoying this perk a lot more than usual now that the days are longer and the weather has warmed up. The discussion conference is next month, which means his father is particularly busy setting up his long list of insufferable complaints, so Zizhen is free to roam the land for a few more weeks until his old man remembers about him.

Zizhen doesn't mind this one bit. He gets to visit high mountain peaks and beautiful cliffs overlooking the sea, fairs and festivals, faraway places he's only ever read about.

The third perk of being a sect heir is that he gets to help people sometimes only using his status. As annoying as his father can be, sect leader Ouyang has managed to gain quite a bit of a name after he sealed some advantageous trade deals and doing away with unnecessary expenditures (bless his new advisors!) - so now people respect his name more than they ever used to. In fact, after Zizhen's lectures in Gusu, he himself has encouraged his father take in more people to turn into disciples and set out for more frequent night hunts in the area. People needed help, and if the Ouyang sect could provide it, benefits on both sides would come pouring in.

Zizhen has always been like that - so very aware of his privileged position in the world and seeking to use that privilege to help the less fortunate. He knows the way the world works, has seen it firsthand in his many travels. The rich and powerful live in a world of their own, unwilling, or at the very least unaware, that, in fact they share that world with everybody else.

Zizhen has seen it all - the beatings, the abuse, the mockery. And so he swore to himself he is never going to be an accomplice to that. If there's anybody that can help, it's those that have the means to - politically, financially, through cultivation. And he's one of those people. He wants to be.

So, he doesn't regret this. It would be hypocritical of him to. In a way, he's always expected it would happen like this - because being a sect heir doesn't only have perks.

There are perils too.

He takes in a deep breath, and tries to sit properly against the tree, feeling the soft caress of the moss against the nape of his neck. It makes him smile, how he's never appreciated it before.

The wound in his stomach seeps blood over his ornate robes much like the nearby river seeps water down tall rocks, crystalline in the faint moonlight. He wonders if his blood glistens like that in the diffuse lighting, like fireflies dancing on top of a lake...

He smiles again. He really can't help being poetic, can he? Whatever could be poetic about somebody dying alone, in a forest far away from home, after allowing himself to believe a sob story about people needing help nobody else had bothered to provide?

Zizhen has always believed the world is full of good people, and so he has forgotten that there are bad people out there too. Bad people that hate him without having ever met him, people that want him dead just because of his name or the conditions he was born in. People that don't know how much good he has done, or the plans he has to reform his sect and help those that nobody has ever paid attention to. How much he disagrees with his father, though he loves him, how much he wishes that the name he carries will only be associated with kindness.

Zizhen doesn't regret this, no. He doesn't regret standing up for that young lady in the streets just now - those thugs were so much stronger than her, and they would have taken her away and hurt her had Zizhen not intervened. Who knows what horrors she would have had to endure had he not charged at her assailants?

It's better that it's him and not her, right? ...right?

There was no way for him to know who they were and what vendetta they had with his father. He would have still defended that young lady even if he knew, no doubt about it - but he would have tried to hide his face or conceal his identity in some way.

But he didn't, and it's too late for that now. At least the young lady managed to run away. Now that he thinks about it, Zizhen's dying a hero. An unsung, nameless hero, but a hero nevertheless.

He wonders if anyone will notice he's gone. They're used to him being away for long periods of time, so they probably won't. Father is busy with his sect business, mother is... not around. He doesn't have any siblings... his friends are all busy, living their lives in their own homes and sects... It will be a while before anyone realizes Zizhen has been gone for too long, and even more so until they find his body.

Or whatever will be left of him. There are many animals living in this forest, the moment they pick up on his scent, they'll probably...

Zizhen feels tears slide down his face. He really wishes he wasn't alone right now... He's always tried so hard to make friends and keep them close just so he wouldn't feel so lost and abandoned all the time. He always wrote everyone letters and invited them over and shared his passions with them - tried so fucking hard to surround himself with the love he always felt he was missing.

But such is life - the more you chase something, the further away it gets.

It shouldn't be so cold, it's the middle of summer. But Zizhen feels chills climbing up his spine, and a muted terror settles into his bones. He's going to die, he's really going to die, any moment now. He's going to die without having ever fallen in love, without having had a family, without having achieved anything at all. He's going to die and there will be nothing left of him in the world, nobody will remember he even existed in a few dozen years.

He won't ever get to see his father again, his home, his friends, he's won't ever get to finish all the books he's collected, he won't ever get to live again.

He wishes he could scream, but it all hurts too much, and his body feels numb and distant, his vision blurry at the edges. He thinks he almost sees them, his family, his friends, running through the foliage to find him, to hold him in his last moments.

But he knows that's not true. Nobody is coming for him. Nobody but death.

But there is something Zizhen doesn't realize, not as his eyes turn glassy and opaque, not as his chest stills and his heart stops beneath his ribcage. Not even as the tears and the blood dry, not even as, despite his last thoughts, his loved ones rush to look for him and break down in tears when they find him.

He doesn't realize he'll always live on, in the stories he has written, in the world he has created, his soul weaved into every word, his voice laid down in dozens upon dozens of pages.

Because, really, artists never truly die,and they're never truly forgotten either. There will always be something keeping them tethered to the world, something delicate and beautiful, something that will live on beyond them, beyond time - something love-shaped.

[its-to-the-death]

I don’t see any Gregor propaganda so imma be the one to do it

WHY YOU SHOULD VOTE FOR GREGOR:

So first a bit of background info. Limbus company is indeed a gacha game but it’s SO much more than that. You play as a cringefail they/them manager with a clock for a head and you have to control a team of 12 sinners who are literally more likely to kill each other first (and they did lmao) than ever befriend each other. But good news you can revive them indefinitely so the sinners are technically immortal. The plot is rly good too (Gregor’s story is literally the first chapter of the game!!) and the game is definitely worth playing just for the story and characters alone.

So about Gregor. First!!! Did you know that he’s based off the main character Gregor Samsa from the classical literature book “The Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka? Because he is!! Hence the whole cockroach bug theme with him. (literally every character in limbus is based off of a classical literature book) He has cockroach bug swag and we all love him for it.

Secondly, in the game Gregor is this sopping wet cat of a character. Like he’s so pathetic and babygirl and is trying so hard to keep it all together despite all the stuff going on around him. But he’s also one of the more chill characters and that makes him cool.

Thirdly, he was literally experimented on by this evil awful atrocious woman when he was young (roughly 15 years old) which gave him his iconic bug arm (which he did NOT want), and then he was forced to participate in a big civil war, which traumatized him and gave him war ptsd. After the war he tried to live a normal civilian life but like, he literally has a bug arm that randomly lashes out at strangers, so he can’t. (and fyi his bug arm regrows so he can’t just cut it off. He’s stuck with that shit.)

Other stuff: he can’t cook for shit, he smokes, he calls you “manager bud”, is actually decent towards you, has an apple trauma, he has a ponytail, in all of his banner art there’s always a cockroach with him, speaking of cockroaches he actually hates bugs, the other sinners like to call him “bug guy” sometimes, and obvi he has glasses which just makes him look more hot.

In short, Gregor is a pathetic babygirl war criminal with a cool ass bug arm vote for him!!

Gregor propaganda! Yeah, I did a little research into him and saw he was based off “The Metamorphosis” which I should have realized sooner from his name and insect arm. As a Bungou Stray Dogs fan and victim of AP Literature in high school, I do love literature references. (Can’t believe they gave him apple trauma because Gregor in the book gets an apple thrown at him by his family which then lodges in his body and causes him pain)

Thank you for this wonderful Gregor breakdown!

[mariacallous]

When South Korean legislator Kim Min-seok warned in August that President Yoon Suk-yeol might be plotting to declare martial law, even the most ardent critics of Yoon were skeptical. Of course, the right-wing president was increasingly displaying authoritarian tendencies. In response to his miserably low approval rating, hovering between the high teens and low 20s, as well as mounting corruption allegations against him and his wife, Yoon ordered indiscriminate raids of the offices and residences of liberal politicians and journalists, numerous thinly supported criminal charges against opposition leader Lee Jae-myung, and ostentatious military parades.

But still, the idea that Yoon might attempt martial law and a self-coup—where an existing leader seizes dictatorial power—seemed to be too outlandish. It was seen as partisan fodder, unbecoming of a lawmaker of Kim’s stature—a respected former youth leader of the South Korean democracy movement that ended the military dictatorship of Chun Doo-hwan in 1987. South Korea had not seen martial law since its democratic transition, although a declaration of martial law remained a theoretical possibility in case of a wartime emergency in a hypothetical clash with North Korea.

Then it happened. At 10:23 p.m. local time on Dec. 3, Yoon called an unscheduled press conference. In a six-minute statement, Yoon announced that he was declaring an emergency martial law, claiming that the opposition Democratic Party made the National Assembly “a monster trying to destroy liberal democracy” because the liberal party had brought 22 impeachments against officials in his administration and threatened to slash its discretionary budget. Yoon branded his political opponents are “pro-Pyongyang anti-state forces,” in the same rhetoric that South Korea’s military dictators had used to justify their rule.

Within an hour, Gen. Park An-soo was appointed as the commander of the Martial Law Command, which decreed that all political activities in national and local legislatures were prohibited, all media were subject to the control of the Martial Law Command, and public gatherings and rallies were prohibited. Soon, armored cars and helicopters began emerging in the streets of Seoul.

South Korean news anchors reporting the announcements were visibly shaking because they knew, as did most South Koreans, what could be in store. The last time martial law was declared in South Korea was in 1979, in the waning days of Park Chung-hee’s dictatorship that later gave way to Chun’s. In that martial law period, from October 1979 to January 1981, Chun’s paratroopers massacred hundreds of protesters, perhaps thousands, in the southwestern city of Gwangju.

The mass murders in the aftermath of the Gwangju Uprising became one of the defining moments of modern South Korean history, memorialized in the novel Human Acts by Han Kang, who won the Nobel Prize in literature in October and is due to give her acceptance speech next week. But in 2024, most South Koreans had regarded the massacre as a distant historical event, a tragic but old incident that their country had put past. The public watched the news in shock as armored cars and helicopters were heading to the National Assembly, where lawmakers had the ability to end martial law by a majority vote.

Fortunately, history did not repeat itself—in part because, as with everything he has done, Yoon executed the autogolpe with clownish incompetence. Aspiring authoritarians around the world have long had an established playbook for coups: TV broadcast controlled, the internet jammed, opposition leaders arrested, and checkpoints set up around the city.

The martial law declaration aspired to all of these possibilities, especially control of the media. Yet none of those things happened on the night of Dec. 3. TV cameras roamed freely near the National Assembly Hall, while liberal leaders exhorted the public via social media to protest against Yoon’s power grab. Squads were reportedly deployed to arrest key opposition leaders but were too slow to stop them. Soldiers were reluctant to use force, letting themselves be pushed back by unarmed protesters.

Although details are still emerging as of this writing (around 24 hours since the martial law declaration), it appears that Yoon’s self-coup attempt was so clumsy because the president could not balance the need to keep his plan secret and the need to get the requite buy-ins from key players. Reportedly, it was Defense Minister Kim Yong-hyun who suggested declaring martial law. But Kim could only muster a small segment of the military to follow his orders; most of the military and the police remained in their posts. Yoon apparently had no buy-in from conservatives either, as People Power Party leader Han Dong-hoon and Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon quickly denounced the coup attempt.

Nevertheless, there were many moments where just one wrong turn could have resulted in chaos and bloodbath. Under the law, the National Assembly can end martial law with a majority vote—but of course, that assumes that the legislators are able to vote. The declaration, completely illegally, forbade the National Assembly from gathering, and armed soldiers were dispatched to patrol outside the Assembly Hall, as helicopters equipped with machine guns hovered over them.

Somehow, the South Korean legislators managed. The protesters led a tense standoff against the special forces deployed to the legislature, blocking the soldiers and armored cars while opening a path for lawmakers to enter the building. Democratic Party spokesperson Ahn Gwi-ryeong wrestled an armed soldier with her bare hands before going into the building. Lee, the Democratic leader, showed surprising athleticism for a 60-year-old as he hopped over the walls to avoid the soldiers in front of the building—while livestreaming a video of himself to boot. Thankfully, not a shot was fired.

Once in the building, the lawmakers and their aides barricaded the entrance and opened the legislative session at 12:49 a.m. Assembly Speaker Woo Won-shik emphasized that proper parliamentary procedure must be followed to leave no doubt about the result, even as paratroopers broke a window to enter the building and legislative aides pushed them back with fire extinguishers and cellphone flashes.

At 1:01 a.m., after 12 agonizing minutes of typing up the bill and submitting it in accordance with the parliamentary procedure, the 190 out of 300 Assembly members who could manage to enter the hall, including 18 legislators of Yoon’s own party, unanimously voted to end martial law. After a few moments of hesitation, the helicopters and armored cars, then the soldiers, began leaving the hall. Even after the vote, there remained a question whether Yoon would honor the National Assembly vote. The legislators remained in the hall, fearing that Yoon might redeploy the military or declare martial law once again. But at 4:27 a.m., the defeated and humiliated Yoon held a press conference to announce that he would lift martial law.

As of this writing, the situation remains fluid. But it does not appear likely that Yoon will be able to finish out the remainder of his term, which runs until 2027. The Democratic Party demanded that Yoon resign immediately or face impeachment proceedings, which require a two-thirds majority of the 300-seat Assembly. Although Yoon’s party holds a slim buffer with 108 legislators, the president’s coup attempt is likely to be enough to peel off at least eight lawmakers, since 18 of them already voted to end martial law.

Yoon may choose to resign rather than to face the ignominy—though he might still be prosecuted. South Korea has an illustrious history of prosecuting and jailing its former presidents, including two out of the past three presidents, Lee Myung-bak and Park Geun-hye, both conservatives.

However it ends, Yoon’s presidency will serve as a reminder of the resilience of South Korean democracy. South Korea’s first martial law situation in more than four decades ended in approximately six hours, based on a parliamentary vote, with no casualties and not a single shot fired. One errant bullet could have changed the course of history, but the overwhelming weight of democratic norms, physically manifest in a protesting public and the parliamentarians calmly voting in the face of ongoing assault, stayed the hands of the soldiers.

On the other hand, it is another embarrassment for South Korean conservatives, who miraculously came back from the impeachment of their last president, Park, in 2017 to recapture the presidency in a narrow win in 2022 based mostly on grievances about high housing costs. This latest episode will do little to help right-wing leaders shed their reputation as the descendants of military dictators with a streak of authoritarianism that could flare up at the first sign of trouble. The so-called reasonable conservatives, the smaller cadre of right-leaning moderates who think vainly that they can work within the system to change it, will once again have to impeach their own president.

[andromachism]

why my favorite books are my favorite books

the master and margarita, bulgakov.

This was the first book I read when the pandemic started. I picked it up because of the person I liked at the time. I don't like that person anymore, but I love the book. It's a political satire with religious and supernatural fantasy elements. It’s a love story. It’s a love letter to literature. It’s the author's testimony and cry for help due to the censorship he faced. This book is everything. It brought back my pleasure for reading after doing it solely out of obligation for 3 years and for that alone it will always hold a special place in my heart. Also, the demonic black cat is really cool!

death with interruptions, saramago.

Saramago is my all-time favorite writer, and this is not my favorite book of his (that's Cain), but it is the first one I read, and I think it was the perfect introduction. It’s such a funny, beautiful, and sensitive story—unexpectedly romantic without losing Saramago’s usual sarcastic political criticism. It also incorporates some supernatural fantasy elements, as it is about Death taking a vacation. I like to read it when I want something with his style but lighter and quicker than his usual pace. I called it a perfect introduction to Saramago, but honestly, I think it’s just perfect.

(By the way, it’s quite interesting that when Saramago writes about everyone going blind or everyone stopping voting, something extremely tragic and almost dystopian happens, but when people stop dying, he decides to write a romance.)

posthumous memoirs of bras cubas, machado de assis.

Machado is everything to me. I was reading his books before I could properly understand his Portuguese, and much less what he was talking about. But as I grew up and fully understood him, this particular one got me in a chokehold. It's another story about death, but in this case, the deceased main character decides to write his memoir. It's satirical and obviously with supernatural elements. I love how Machado ridicules the elite society of his time while masking it with a likable protagonist who is actually an awful person and a completely mediocre human. So many parts of this story were crucial in my development as an adult, like when the protagonist memorizes quotes from famous authors to appear intellectual (something to be said about those annoyingly pretentious people writing essays about how bad everything popular is and quoting the same authors left and right). (Besides all of that, there is a chapter where a black butterfly flies into Bras' bedroom and lands on his father's portrait. A few chapters later, his father dies. A day before my grandfather died, a black butterfly flew into my room, and then his requiem mass happened on the day of Saint Blaise of Sebaste, who is called ‘Brás’ in Portuguese. This coincidence shook me to a point that will always make this book extremely personal to me.)

frankenstein, mary shelley.

As brilliant as Shelley is, this one is one of my favorites because it shaped me as a human being. When I first read it, I was 16 years old, struggling with my gender identity, sexuality, and body. Because of that, my relationship with my father fluctuated between non-existent and hateful. I was different, that was clear to everyone, and he hated it. So, reading about that creature was an enlightening experience about myself. I, too, felt like a creature—hateful and constructed with someone else’s parts, with none of it ever feeling truly mine. Frankenstein was to me what Paradise Lost was to the creature. I feel like a creation, wretched, helpless, and alone.

a storm of swords, grrm.

I list 'Death with Interruptions' as one of my favorites because of the author, and this one because of the genre. I love fantasy in all its forms, from small elements of it used as plot devices to high fantasy with extensive world-building and fictional beasts. A Song of Ice and Fire is my all-time favorite fantasy series, and A Storm of Swords is my favorite book in it, so it makes sense that this is the high fantasy representative on my list. Robb’s struggles and ultimate downfall will always be ingrained in my mind. The absolute dreadful feeling I got when I read, 'No one sang the words, but Catelyn knew “The Rains of Castamere” when she heard it,' cannot be replicated by any other work of fiction, I believe.

[etaleah]

Don’t Skip Election Day in 2023

It’s not a presidential or midterm year, but there are still a lot of important elections happening within the next month and it is still crucial that you vote in them. Many of these are local elections that can most directly impact your life and community. The people on the ballot this year are your mayors, city council members, and school board members. Some ballots will also have proposals for you to vote on, like whether you’re okay with raising taxes by 0.4% to pay for road repairs or something of that nature.

School boards are especially important in the era of unprecedented book bans. Please, if you value the freedom to read, if you value representation, diversity in literature, etc., show up to your local election. The absolute best tool we have to fight book bans is to make sure they don’t happen in the first place, and who is on the school board can be the deciding factor in whether a book gets removed. Check who’s running in your district to make sure the position goes to someone reasonable and not a Moms for Liberty bigot. Because I have no doubt that some of those will be running and they are banking on people not showing up or not knowing that an election is happening. Turnout for local elections is awful and it’s a big part of why there’s been so little change.

Mayors and city council members matter too. They have the power over things like rent control, basic income, universal broadband, public transit, local infrastructure, city budgets, libraries, parks, policing, disaster relief, and whether Confederate statues get removed. They can affect your life in ways that governors and congresspeople and even presidents can’t.

Local elections can be where your vote matters the most. There’s no electoral college to mess it up, and the amount of people who can vote in each one is so small that every vote really does count.

Early voting is going to start happening in a few weeks. If you haven’t registered, don’t know your status, don’t know the dates or your polling place or what’s required to vote, or if you don’t know what’s on your ballot, now is the time to find out. Look up your sample ballot and research each candidate to see where they stand on the issues.

Election Day in 2023 is every bit as important and high-stakes as Election Day in 2022 and 2024. And we all need to treat it that way.