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I need a doctor who has the patience, experience, humor, and directness to listen to whatever new treatment ideas I've concocted, and then either say "Alex, that's a stupid fucking idea, let me explain why," or "The risks are acceptable in my professional opinion. Let's go over pros and cons and then you can think about it and decide what to do."
I just think it would be fun. For me. And I wish I could find a doctor who would also find that fun. I already came up with one fun Treatment for an Illness and have been successfully using it to treat The Illness for almost a YEAR, and all the side effects are awesome so like...I am certainly full of hubris at this point.
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One night was washed out with heavy rain, the next night was too dangerous, and now the hurricanes decide to just pack it all in for not much???? Big bash is dead.
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when i was a kid the idea of like surprise birthday parties was so like. idk i wanted it and it never happened but now its actually like. gonna happen to me but at a really really bad time when i am going to be very stressed and whatever the surprise thing is will probably make it worse so its like. hmm. early birthday gift of being nauseous with anxiety a month in advance
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miguel o’hara stars in… ‘THE SWEETER THE JUICE’ o(^-^)o
・゜゚・*:.。..。. miguel o’hara x reader .。. .。.:*・゜゚・
SMUT
now he’s finally got you pregnant, he’s gonna do what he’s been dreaming of all these years. suck. those. tits.
same universe as this miguel.
cw; lactation kink, pregnancy, breeding kink (not really but yknow me), dry humping, titties, older nerd!miguel, they’re finally married!
800+ words
@cheonstapes : she’s back! again!
if miguel had to pick a part of your body he loved the most, it’d definitely be your tits.
if you think he was obsessed before — you don’t wanna know what goes through his head as he watches you waddle around his house, carrying his kid, sighing every time you leak through another shirt. you had forgone a bra ever since you got pregnant, saying how uncomfortable they feel against your chest — not that he was complaining.
“for fucks-sake, again?”
he was so used to hearing you say that, he already had a shirt on hand for you to change into. you were so grateful for your doting husband that you completely missed that nasty glint in his eyes you usually only see when he’s bending you over the bed and fucking you raw — luckily for him.
“here, honey. lift your arms for me.”
as you do, he pulls the shirt up — the soiled fabric catching under your swollen breasts as he wiggles it off you. “ah, shit — thanks, baby. but fuck, am i’m so tired of changing shirts every 10 minutes!” you might be tired, but miguel cannot get enough of it. he was already so fucking hard, practically salivating at the sight of your bare breasts still leaking down your heavy belly.
“maybe you should just ditch the shirts all together, love — you know i hate seeing my beautiful wife uncomfortable.” miguel’s voice was a soft whisper in your ear, lips slowly tracing down the side of your jaw to your sensitive neck — kissing the skin so tenderly. his calloused hands gently massaged the taut flesh of your tits, probing and squeezing at your nipples to let out small trickles of that sweet milk.
“migs, how many times are you gonna say that?”
“as many as it takes for you to finally listen.”
the breathy laugh you let out did little to qualm the feeling deep in his gut — he was dead serious, there was absolutely no reason for you to be in shirts all the time when you have him to take care of you whenever you needed a good milking. his hips were already sinking into to the plush of your ass that he loved oh-so-much — especially with how much fatter it got during your pregnancy.
it was almost as if he had lost control of his body, a hand landing on your waist to bend you over the counter as he mindlessly ruts into you. “dios, nena, eres tan hermosa. vas a ser la mamá más guapa, ¿verdad? mm, my pretty, little mama.” miguel never failed to turn you on to no bounds, like, you have a walking greek god as a husband — but those fucking hormones were making it unbearable.
the force at which he was pushing against you had shifted your drenched panties to the side, leaving practically nothing between you and his drooling bulge. his fingers tightened around the fat of your hips, squeezing the flesh delicious hard as his free hand flipped you over — pushing your back against the edge of the counter. “shit…been waiting to taste these all fucking day, honey.”
mindful of your growing belly, he hiked one of your legs up on his hip — craning his neck down to suck on a pert nipple. wasting no time, and at a much better angle, he continued to grind against you — his tip catching against your engorged clit. “m—migs, baby, fuck…” the way he swirled and sucked so eagerly reminded you of when you first started dating, how determined he was to knock you up before the two of you even moved in together.
the taste was so addicting, some of your milk trickling down his body — dripping onto the ground beneath you. you knew he was about to cum, hard — his eyes had rolled back, breathing in heavy pants, hands rushing to pull down the waistband of his sweats. “gonna paint my girls in my cum, love — sé una buena chica y mantenlos juntos para mí.”
“‘course, baby.” you nodded breathlessly, squishing the globes of fat together as he pumped his cock dry — head thrown back as ropes upon ropes of his hot seed coated your tits, sliding into the self-made crevice. “god, what did i do in my past life to have a wife as sexy as you, mamí?” his spent cock bobbed against his thigh as he trapped you against the counter — kissing you deeply as his wet hands reaching up to rub the cum into the skin of your breasts.
“mmph — y’know, i heard cum’s good for the skin. it, uh, helps with the blood circulation in your tits — i think we should do this more often, love.”
“migs, if you weren’t, like — a whole scientist, i might’ve believed you. if you want a titjob, just say that.”
“…i mean, you said it — not me.”
all your home shirts were promptly locked away and never to be seen again.
-new year, new waiting for cheon to get her shit together andpost!
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Official prototypes for my friendship bracelets. Might change around the letter beads and a few of the colors due to inventory but overall I’m happy with the results
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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The governor was firm: Nebraska would reject the new federal money for summer meals. The state already fed a small number of children when schools closed. He would not sign on to a program to provide all families that received free or cut-rate school meals with cards to buy groceries during the summer.
“I don’t believe in welfare,” the governor, Jim Pillen, a Republican, said in December.
A group of low-income youths, in a face-to-face meeting, urged him to reconsider. One told him she had eaten less when schools were out. Another criticized the meals at the existing feeding sites and held a crustless prepackaged sandwich to argue that electronic benefit cards from the new federal program would offer better food and more choice.
“Sometimes money isn’t the solution,” the governor replied.
.......
The new $2.5 billion program, known as Summer EBT, passed Congress with bipartisan support, and every Democratic governor will distribute the grocery cards this summer. But Republican governors are split, with 14 in, 13 out and no consensus on what constitutes conservative principle.
One red-state governor (Sarah Huckabee Sanders of Arkansas) hailed the cards as an answer to a disturbing problem. Another (Kim Reynolds of Iowa) warned that they might increase obesity. Some Republicans dismissed the program as obsolete pandemic aid. Some balked at the modest state matching costs. Others hinted they might join after taking more time to prepare.
The program will provide families about $40 a month for every child who receives free or reduced-price meals at school —$120 for the summer. The red-state refusals will keep aid from about 10 million children, about a third of those potentially eligible nationwide.
......
As with Medicaid, poor states are especially resistant, though the federal government bears most of the cost. Of the 10 states with the highest levels of children’s food insecurity, five rejected Summer EBT: Louisiana, Oklahoma, Mississippi, Alabama and Texas.
Like the school lunch program, it serves families up to 185 percent of the poverty line, meaning a family of three would qualify with an income of about $45,500 or less.
......
Some Republicans, in rejecting the aid, found critics in their own ranks. After Gov. Henry McMaster of South Carolina dismissed Summer EBT as a duplicative “entitlement,” State Senator Katrina Shealy, a fellow Republican, wrote a column with a Democratic colleague warning that “hunger does not stop during summer break.”
In an interview, Ms. Shealy said the state should not reject $65 million “just because Biden is president,” and perhaps just partly tongue-in-cheek wrapped her plea in Trumpian bunting: “Everyone wants to say, ‘America First’ — well, let’s feed our children first.”
Oklahoma initially said it rejected the program because federal officials had not finalized the rules. But responding to critics, Gov. Kevin Stitt, a Republican, sharpened his attack, calling Summer EBT a duplicative “Biden administration program” that would “cause more bureaucracy for families.”
Tribal governments, which have influence over large parts of the state, stepped in. Already feuding with Mr. Stitt, they promised to distribute cards to all eligible families on their land, regardless of tribal status, while bearing the $3 million administrative cost. The five participating tribes will cover nearly 40 percent of Oklahoma’s eligible children, most of them not Native American.
“I remain dumbfounded that the governor of Oklahoma would turn down federal tax dollars to help feed low-income children,” said Chuck Hoskin Jr., the principal chief of the Cherokee Nation.
-------------------------
some of the most stunning highlights of this story.
All I got to say is, let's feed the children? every single Democratic Governor took the money to feed the kids, every governor who rejected it, every single one, is a Republican. If you don't vote for Democrats you are STEALING food out of kids mouths.
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If my boss tells me one more time "we don't work for free" in relation to me not wanting to overcharge the client, maybe I should respond "well according to my payslip, I do" and then just quit
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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Oscar Piastri x reader who is super talkative and can ramble for hours on end?
She's A Yapper - OP81
No part 2 requests please
Some people might say that Oscar and y/n aren't well paid. Those people would be wrong. And Oscar will tell them as much.
Before he met y/n, admittedly his world was a lot more quiet and held a lot less philosophical questions to think about. But he's also say it was boring and y/n's perspective on the world, which she tells him all about because sharing her thoughts with him is a way that she shares her love, is one of the best thing he can listen to during his day.
Zak has overhead y/n talking before and joked that y/n is like Oscar's own personal podcast.
"Did you know that some the stars we see are dead? Because the speed of light means that we're seeing them how they were 4000 years ago." Y/n states making Oscar smile since he does sometimes wonder not only where y/n learns this stuff but where she stores it all. "A lot of them are still alive but some of them are dead."
"I hope your favourites aren't dead." Oscar comments making her turn and grin, and it's the grin she gets when she's about to make an awful cheesy comment. Something she does often just because it makes Oscar all flustered, no matter how bad it is.
"Well my favourite and brightest star is definitely very fit and alive. Aren't you?"
Oscar groans shaking his head at her while she just grins proudly at him then stealing a kiss while his face is flushed.
"Baby, that was bad." Oscar laughs lightly before smiling as she just shrugs unapologetic about it.
"I think one day we should go to one of those astronomy places where they project the sky onto the ceiling and just talk about the stars."
Y/n would get bored after 10 minutes and Oscar would probably fall asleep, it also won't happen because y/n has a million and ten date ideas that have been suggested and then never mentioned again.
"Can we go to the beach now we're back in Melbourne?" Y/n asks making Oscar smile.
"Yes, of course we can." Oscar confirms making her grin.
Y/n starts to ramble about going to the beach and suggests taking some of the team.
Obviously Oscar in Australia means that he's getting most of the attention from the fans. Most of them support him or Daniel. Right now, primarily him because he's the new young talent who is showing promising potential for a big future in F1.
-
Sitting in the McLaren unit on the Thursday for media, a lot of it isn't filled with a whole lot. They get to have a lot of breaks between media duties.
"I love your helmet." Y/n comments as she lies on the sofa with his helmet on her stomach then she gasps sitting up making Oscar raise his eyebrows at her. "I just had the most amazing idea-well if you like the idea-"
"I will." Oscar assures her since he's never not liked an idea she's came up with.
"We could both design one side of a helmet. Even if you don't use it, it sounds fun."
He does love it. Mainly because at the beginning of his F1 career, y/n was really scared to be overly involved. It didn't take him long to notice she was really sort of dodging being involved with it.
"Which race are you thinking? Or do you want to do it for the next home race?" Oscar questions making her smile a little. "Go on, I know you have a race in mind."
"Well, since you've asked. I think it'd be fun to design your helmet for Singapore." Y/n states earning a smile from Oscar. "It's one of my favourite races and you had such a cool helmet last year, so it wouldn't be unusual to have a special helmet. I just like the idea of it. I don't know what my half would be but Singapore is quite a while away."
"That's true." Oscar confirms then smiling lightly at her. "I love you."
"I love you too. So much. Like...a lot." Y/n grins then grinning as she moves over and kisses the Aussie only for Lando to walk in.
"Ah! My eyes! My poor innocent eyes!" Lando exclaims earning a laugh from the young woman while Oscar just smiles.
"I know you're not trying to convince me that your eyes are even the slightest bit innocent." Y/n snorts earning a dramatic gasp from the Brit with his hand going to his chest.
"Alright, but Oscar is innocent." Lando states earning a smirk from the young woman.
"For your sanity-"
"Yeah, going to stop you there." Oscar smiles covering her mouth while Lando laughs.
-
Sometimes Oscar likes to hear y/n talk for hours on purpose. Like he says something to trigger her into a mass of thoughts that she can't filter and shares with him just speaking everything she thinks.
One of his favourite things to listen to her talk about is how she pictures their future.
"Baby." Oscar mumbles making her look up at him since they're in the hotel, a couple days earlier than the race weekend required purely to adjust to the timezone a bit more. "How do you picture our future?"
"Short or long term?" Y/n asks already excited to talk about it.
There's something so comforting about the fact that y/n really feels secure enough to not fear talking about how confident she is in their future together and how she has plans for it already.
"Both." Oscar smiles gently before he watches her shift a little purely out of being excited to do this.
"So short term, my Oscar Piastri is going be champion within a couple years." Y/n grins earning a hum of approval from him. "And possibly within 5 years we might be engaged."
5 years is a stretch. It's a generous window for him, her way of trying to not put any pressure on him about it and he knows it. But she'll be lucky to get out of 2025 without a ring on her finger from him.
"Then a wedding somewhere warm, preferably Australia because it's home." Y/n goes on practically gushing over the idea of their wedding. "As much as I'd love to see you as a girl dad with too many daughters to comprehend. I think I'll get pregnant and we'll have a little boy and then two girls."
"A boy and two girls ok." Oscar nods earning a grin before she flaps her hand excitedly at him.
"We'll be the best parents, not just parenting but we'll just be the milf and dilf of F1." Y/n beams earning a small laugh. "That's short term, there's just going to be F1, marriage and raising kids. Long term, when you eventually retire, we'll just live full time in Australia. The kids will be hitting the teen years, getting into whatever hobbies they've got. Maybe karting, maybe biking-maybe anything! We'd obviously be the type of parents who support any endeavour."
"Obviously."
"And they'd get to brag about their dad."
"Oh I'm a bragging right?"
"I brag about you."
Oscar grins at that because he knows she absolutely spends a lot of time bragging about him and she's unapologetic about it.
"What else is in our future?"
"Mmm...I think we'll travel a lot outside of work. I also think we'll keep our kids to us. They don't need to be in the limelight unless whatever they want to pursue requires it." Y/n hums earning a nod from Oscar since he knows she's yet to delve into what she wants to talk about with him.
"Names?"
"Boy is going to be called Connor. Because Connor Piastri because I've always like the name Connor. Then we're going to have Eden and Mabel Piastri. Because they're pretty names even if they're for old women."
"So they'll be Piastri's?" Oscar questions though he's only joking since he knows y/n loves his last name.
"We'll all be Piastri's."
Fuck did he say by the end of 2025? No. He's getting a ring before the end of the month.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05
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Michigan just gave us the rhetorical weapon that could push Biden and the DNC to turn their backs on Israel.
Okay so this is amazing news. Michigan was going to be a key state in the push to get Biden, and the DNC as a whole, to start pressuring Israel, and they have just proven that they have that power.
Background: Michigan is a swing state, and it has 16 votes in the electoral college. Winning Michigan was a major factor in Biden's win back in 2020, and much of that rested on the Arab-American vote. It was also a major factor in Hillary Clinton's loss to Donald Trump in 2016. She lost the state by ten thousand, seven hundred votes.
Praxis: For obvious reasons, Arab-Americans are incredibly upset with Biden's support for Israel, and support in that demographic has gone from 59% in the 2020 election to less than 17% now. As a form of protest, Arab-Americans in Michigan started a campaign to get voters to check "uncommitted" in the Democratic primary. This is an actual box that can be checked, though some less-organized pushes also suggested writing in 'ceasefire' like New Hampshire primary voters did.
The goal was to get at least 10,000 'uncommitted' votes, as that is how many Hillary lost by.
As Dearborn Mayor Abdullah Hammoud, the first Arab mayor of this majority-Arab city, said:
"We're not sizable enough to make a candidate win, but we're sizable enough to make a candidate lose."
(Source: NPR, 2/25/24)
Result:
As of 10:49 PM EST, 2/27, there are thirty-nine thousand uncommitted votes, according to CNN, which is doing live coverage.
NPR was reporting 30k at 10:14.
As a caveat, New York Times is saying that each of the last three Michigan Dem Primaries had about 20k uncommitted votes, so the 35k isn't all the push for pro-Palestine stances in Congress, but that's still a jump of almost 20k, which is way, way more than the goal.
And they aren't done counting the votes yet. Barely 30% of votes are in. The goal has been blown out of the water.
Other states are reaching out for advice on how to replicate the results.
This is big news.
So can we relax?
Fuck no.
Do what Michigan did. Vote in the Dem primary, and vote uncommitted or write in "ceasefire."
But on a more daily basis, if you have a Democratic candidate, lean on this.
Tell them it will be repeated elsewhere.
This could very well lose the election for Biden and more. The Democrats can't afford another four years of Trump, and they know it. The loss of Michigan can and will tank this election for them, especially since other states that helped Biden win, like Georgia, were also won on demographics that are growing increasingly upset by the situation in Gaza.
Go to the Michigan section of this post and use that in your calls and emails.
But remember. Call your reps. Call your senators. Call your governor, if you'd like. And if they're a Democrat, you bring this up. Be polite, the staffer isn't making these decisions. They might just be an intern. But bring it up and tell them that we are going to lose the presidency if we do not sanction Israel and actually pressure them into not only pulling out of Gaza and the West Bank, but paying reparations.
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Luke Castellan x daughter of aphrodite reader who comes back to camp with scandalous new sets of lingerie and tries them on for Luke who gets absolutely turned on and flustered 😇
ℒ𝒾𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ
love this sm, adorable divider by @s-hyia!!
MASTERLIST
PART 2, part 3
Warnings- mdni, perv!luke, best friends crushing on each other, pining, fem!reader,
“Luke!” You yelled out. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking for you in the crowd of campers. He knew that voice from anywhere.
He found you, coming over and his eyes widening at your many bags.
You sighed in relief as he grabbed them for you. He laughed and walked over to cabin 10 with you.
“Hey, y/n,” He said, “I see someone did some shopping over break.”
“Not just any shopping.” You giggled, he looked at you confused.
“Just wait until later, I’ll show you.” A small smile on your face as you said that. He was still lost and confused but just nodded and put your bags on your bunk.
"You still up to be my sparring partner this year?” he asked you, as you both sat down on the edge of your bed. He always had these tricks to show the kids.
"Luke, you know I'm not good at sword fighting."
"I know, I know. Just for them?" You were more like a God at archery, you taught all the new demigods.
"Fine." You sighed, and he smiled at that.
“You going to the bonfire later?” He asked.
“No, I was actually gonna ask you for a favor…” you said. He was curious as to what you were talking about.
“Okay…”
“So, over break I bought all of these adorable lingerie sets, but, I need to know which ones look best on me. So I was gonna ask, if I could model them for you?”
His eyes widened as you asked, it sounded like something straight out of a wet dream.
The bell rung for the bonfire to start, and he nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.” He tried to keep calm, but inside he was bursting like a damn firework.
“Yay!” You squealed, grabbing the bags and heading to the bathroom. You shut the door and he sighed heavily, running a hand through his curls.
Okay, this is okay. Just stay calm, she’s your best friend. This is normal. He thought, he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again when he saw you step out of the bathroom.
He had to control himself from letting out a groan. He nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat as you twirled.
“So? Out of 10?” You asked him, he didn’t hear you however.
You seemed perfect in it, you always did. The pink bra that left little to the imagination, topped with a little bow on it, and the underwear that hugged your figure perfectly.
“Luke!”
“Sorry. Sorry. What’d you say?”
“What do you think?”
“It’s…” he tried to find a word to say good without sounding like he was a perv.
“It’s nice.” He said, nodding and looking down at the floor. you smiled at him and then walked back to the bathroom.
He watched you move into the bathroom, staring at your plush thighs and ass. He quietly groaned once the door closed, and he grabbed your pillow, putting it on his lap to hide his problem.
“Okay, what about this?” You opened the door again, this one had little strawberries plastered on both pieces.
“It’s nice.” He said quickly, he felt his cheeks getting hot and he avoided eye contact. “I like it. That one might be my favorite so far.”
You gave him another sweet smile, and went over to him for a second, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you for doing this, by the way.”
You were going to be the death of him.
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