#VOTE HOIST

[fanficmaniatic]

“Do not be triked by decepticons who say they want to invent stuff with you, Vote for the bot how would find a way to create clean energy for you”- Grapple, said while wearing a #VoteHoist #Hoistsweep shirt.

VOTE HOIST!!

[townpostin]

Loyola School Telco Hosts Spirited 78th Independence Day Event

Dr. Ajoy Kumar and Anand Barman attend flag hoisting ceremony Loyola School Telco marked India’s 78th Independence Day with a vibrant celebration featuring patriotic performances and inspiring speeches. JAMSHEDPUR – Loyola School Telco commemorated the 78th Independence Day with a flag hoisting ceremony and cultural program in its primary block. Chief guest Dr. Ajoy Kumar and special guest Anand…

[hang-on-lil-tomato]

you can also vote for Kaimana from next goal wins.

Our Flag Means Death has been nominated for best comedy series and Vico Ortiz has been nominated for best performance!

[mcrdvcks]

Hi! I have a small request with Logan Howlett. I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader and Logan are putting up Christmas trees together (with their kids if possible) and it’s just so heart-warming, so domestic life, so cozy, so tooth-rotting sweet, so hunky husband material, and AAAAAHH—! #needthat 😍🥰🩷

Deck The Halls

Summary: You and Logan decorate for Christmas with your kids.

Word Count: 2k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: sorry if this took a bit too long anon! i had to listen to quite a lot of christmas music while also being stressed that finals are next week and having like 2 final projects due friday that i haven't started... anyways, i hope this is what you wanted!

(you can imagine any logan for this it's not specified. and thank you for 800 followers!)

warnings/tags: laura!!, reader and logan have a biological kid, fluff!!

Laura propped open the door, the cold chill rushing inside as you lugged the tree inside. Sierra, who was already inside, her beanie slipping down onto her forehead, her gloves a tad bit oversized.

“Careful, you’re going to scratch the walls,” Laura said with a smirk, standing off to the side with her arms crossed.

“I got it,” you huffed, struggling to balance the massive tree as it scraped against the doorway. “If someone actually helped instead of supervising, this might go faster.”

Logan appeared behind you, a grunt escaping him as he took the tree from your hands like it was nothing. “That someone’s right here.”

“Show-off,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling.

Sierra toddled over, her beanie nearly falling into her eyes as she pointed dramatically toward the corner of the living room. “It goes there! Right there, Daddy!”

“Bossy, just like your mom,” Logan teased, earning him a playful glare from you.

“You better be glad it’s Christmas,” you shot back, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Otherwise, I’d make you do all the decorating by yourself.”

Laura leaned against the doorway with a grin. “I vote we let Dad string up the lights. He’ll get all growly when they tangle.”

“Keep it up, kid,” Logan warned as he hoisted the tree into place, his tone gruff but laced with affection. “You’ll find yourself untangling them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Laura replied, grabbing a nearby box of ornaments. “I’m just saying, you’re the one who’ll probably break half the bulbs.”

“Okay, let’s focus,” you cut in, handing Sierra a tiny star ornament from the box.

“Laura said she’d lift me up so I can put the star on top!” Sierra announced, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

“Laura said what now?” Logan arched a brow at Laura, who shrugged, completely unbothered.

“She asked. I said sure,” Laura said, bending down to tug her boots off. “I’m strong enough. She doesn’t weigh that much.”

“Not the point,” Logan grumbled, shaking his head. “We’ll handle the star. You two can do the ornaments.”

Sierra pouted dramatically, her bottom lip sticking out in protest. “But Laura’s more fun! She said she’d spin me around so I could hang the ornaments way up high.”

“Logan, it’s Christmas,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Let them have fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She falls, and I’ve gotta listen to Sierra scream and you yell at me for letting it happen,” he replied dryly.

“Dad!” Sierra gasped, looking scandalized. “Laura’s not gonna drop me. She’s a ninja.”

“Pretty sure ninjas don’t decorate Christmas trees,” Logan muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

Sierra turned to Laura with a grin. “See? He didn’t say no.”

“That’s not—” Logan started, but you cut him off with a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Let them have their fun. We’ll supervise,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anything breaks—”

“Nothing’s gonna break,” Laura interjected, already hoisting Sierra up in her arms. “We’ve got this.”

Sierra let out a delighted squeal as Laura lifted her, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Logan grumbled under his breath, something about how Christmas was supposed to be “calm, not a circus.”

“Relax,” you said softly, leaning against him as you watched the girls. “This is what Christmas is about.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t,” you rested your head on his shoulder. “Now, let’s get those lights untangled,” you spoke, moving toward the box of decorations.

“Why do they always come out of the box like this?” he muttered, pulling out a jumbled ball of lights.

“Because you never roll them up properly,” you teased, pulling the end of the strand from his hand.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one who packed them last year,” Logan shot back, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Details,” you said with a grin, carefully working the knots apart.

Across the room, Sierra’s laughter rang out as Laura spun her in a slow circle, letting her hang ornaments on the higher branches.

“Faster, Laura!” Sierra squealed.

“Faster, and you’re gonna go flying,” Logan called over his shoulder, his tone a mix of warning and humor.

“She’s fine, Logan,” you reassured, giving him a playful nudge.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Daddy!” Sierra yelled, her voice full of glee. “Laura’s a ninja, remember?”

“That’s what worries me,” Logan muttered under his breath, though his lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

“You’re such a softie,” you teased, looping a section of untangled lights around your arm. “Admit it—you love watching them.”

He grunted but didn’t argue, his eyes softening as he glanced toward the girls.

“You gonna help, or am I doing all the work over here?” you asked, holding up the strand of lights.

Logan reached for it, his fingers brushing against yours. “I got it. Don’t need you getting zapped if there’s a bad bulb.”

You rolled your eyes but let him take over, watching as he started stringing the lights around the tree. His movements were precise but slow, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You do realize it’s not surgery, right? Just wrap them around,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Keep it up, and I’ll let you finish,” he retorted, shooting you a look.

“Touchy,” you teased, stepping back to admire the tree. “But hey, it’s looking good.”

“Duh!” Sierra chimed in, still perched on Laura’s shoulders. “That’s because we’re helping!”

“Helping, huh?” Logan said, pausing to glance at her. “You’re just supervising, same as your mom.”

“Excuse me?” you gasped, feigning offense.

“Yeah, Mommy’s the boss!” Sierra chimed in, sticking her tongue out at Logan.

“Boss of what?” Logan countered, his tone playful. “Boss of making me do all the work?”

“That’s marriage, honey,” you replied with a smirk, leaning over to kiss his cheek again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck.

“Alright, I think we’re done!” Laura announced, setting Sierra down gently.

The little girl ran to you, beaming. “Did we do a good job, Mommy?”

“The best,” you said, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Tree’s not even plugged in yet,” Logan pointed out, but the soft smile on his face betrayed his words.

“Then plug it in,” you challenged, nodding toward the outlet.

Logan grabbed the cord and bent down, pausing dramatically as if he were about to detonate a bomb.

“Just plug it in, Dad!” Laura said, rolling her eyes.

The lights flickered on, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

Sierra gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s so pretty!”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around Logan’s waist as the girls admired their handiwork.

He glanced down at you, his expression tender. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“Admit it,” you teased, resting your head against his shoulder. “This is your favorite part.”

He smirked. “You’re my favorite part.”

“Ew! Gross!” Laura groaned, but you caught the smile she tried to hide.

Sierra giggled, clapping her hands. “Kiss her, Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re full of ideas tonight, huh?” Logan said, his gruff exterior melting as he leaned down to kiss you softly.

The girls’ laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything was perfect.

---

After the girls were in bed and asleep, you and Logan sat on the couch, your feet propped in his lap while you cradled a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands. The faint glow of the Christmas lights reflected off the window, giving the room a cozy warmth despite the cold outside. Logan had his head tilted back, his eyes half-closed, one hand resting lightly on your shin.

“You good over there?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

He cracked one eye open, smirking. “Tired. You and your Christmas tree schemes wore me out.”

“Schemes?” you repeated with a mock gasp. “Excuse me, but I distinctly remember you being the one who insisted we get a real tree this year.”

“Yeah, and I’m regretting it,” he muttered, his hand absently rubbing your ankle. “Needles everywhere. That thing’s gonna shed all over the place.”

“You’re such a Grinch sometimes, you know that?” you teased, taking a sip of your drink.

He snorted. “A Grinch who carried the tree in, set it up, and tangled with those stupid lights.”

“Hey, I untangled half of those,” you shot back, nudging his side with your foot.

“Half? More like a quarter,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to set your mug on the coffee table. “Fine, maybe a quarter. But I provided moral support, which is arguably the most important part.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, but his tone was warm. “Moral support.”

You leaned back, reaching out to cup his face with one hand. “Admit it. You had fun tonight.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you. “Yeah. It wasn’t bad.”

You laughed, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “That’s as close to a compliment as I’m gonna get, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he said, his voice low and teasing. Before you could pull away, his hand caught your wrist. In one fluid motion, he tugged you down until you were sprawled across his chest.

“Logan!” you yelped, laughing as you tried to balance yourself. “What are you—”

“Getting comfortable,” he interrupted, his hands settling on your waist to keep you steady. “You’re the one who started it.”

You propped your elbows on either side of him, grinning down at his smug expression. “Started what?”

“Touching me. Flirting. Trying to make me all soft and mushy.” His voice was gruff, but his hands rubbed soothing circles into your back.

You raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought I was just being nice.”

“Sure, nice,” he drawled, leaning his head back against the couch cushion. “You’re always up to something.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before settling your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, his warmth chasing away the lingering December chill.

“Impossible, huh?” he murmured, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Guess I am,” you replied softly, closing your eyes. “Lucky me.”

His chest rumbled with quiet laughter. “Yeah, lucky you.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You let out a contented sigh, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest.

“You know,” you said after a while, your voice muffled against his shirt, “you’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”

“Don’t start,” he warned, though there was no heat in his tone.

“It’s true,” you teased, lifting your head to look at him. “You’re just a big softie, Logan. Especially when it comes to the girls.”

He gave you a look, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Keep talking, and you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you quipped, grinning as his hand slid up to cup the back of your neck.

“Both,” he said, pulling you down for a kiss.

The moment was unhurried, warm, and completely yours, a rare pocket of peace in the chaos of life. When he finally pulled back, his lips brushing against yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” you whispered. “Big softie.”

“Go to bed,” he muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with affection.

“Only if you carry me,” you replied, resting your forehead against his.

He groaned, but his arms tightened around you. “Fine. But if I throw my back out, you’re explaining it to Laura.”

“She’ll just say I’m bossy,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan stood effortlessly, holding you close as he made his way toward the bedroom. “That’s because you are,” he muttered, his voice low and full of warmth.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Longest Johns - Hoist Up The Thing 2020

The Longest Johns are a British folk musical group from Bristol, consisting of Andy Yates, Jonathan "JD" Darley, and Robbie Sattin. They are known for performing folk music and sea shanties in the English tradition, and they also compose and record their own music.

The band has self-released four albums and several EPs. Between Wind & Water (2018) included their rendition of the folk song "Wellerman." This recording, as well as the one used in the bands' Sea of Thieves series "Open Crewsing" would later fuel the sea shanty viral trend, principally on TikTok, in early 2021.

"Hoist Up The Thing" received a total of 76,3% yes votes!

[mangohgeckoh]

Pirate!Silco x Mermaid! Reader

A/N: You asked and I delivered! Fair warning: I do not guarantee that I will be updating this fic as frequently as my current ongoing one: Chemical Reaction, but I do already have plot lined up and 5 chapters with 4k+ words within each one. Unlike CR, this will only be posted on Tumblr.

Tags and warnings: NSFW, smut, MDNI, fluff, nudity, betrayal, violence, interspecies relationship

-

A quick thank you: Thank you to anyone who commented and voted on my original post! Here are the lovely people who were enthusiastic enough about the project to comment on the original post: @sarynnah @pinklunarprincess @teriyakiitae @bloodyshadow737

I hope this lives up to your expectations!

-

Gunpowder and Green Shells

Chapter 1

1781

Curtains of light cerulean danced underneath the dark waves. Moonlight pierced through the waves in small increments while a prominent trail of red followed the body descending the depths. Bubbles outlined the body as the ocean began to accept it, the surface becoming a faint memory.

The part of the ocean you had called home was littered with shipwrecks and discarded items that those above kept losing. Your residence was in between two warring islands, a very poor choice for a place to live. But the ocean floor you had chosen as your territory had not been a battle zone between the two islands when you claimed your place among the wreckage. Why leave an area so abundant with shiny objects and food? In the past you attempted to leave for the open ocean, but was almost eaten by a larger creature.

So you were content with your choice.

Somewhat.

It was quite lonely for you, but you always blamed where you lived. Still, no other creature resembles your half fish-half woman body. It presented many complications, namely the inability to communicate with the sealife.

But a very odd smell wafted through your gills while they filtered the water in and out of your system. Blood. Curiosity and animalistic desire snapped you out of your monotonous routine.

Your powerful tail propelled your body with a sideways motion, following the smell of human blood out of the dark depths of your home. Your body halted at the silhouette of a man drifting in the salty water above you. He seemed lifeless as blood streamed from his eye in a disturbing dance.

Another victim of war perhaps?

You swam above him, turning to get a better look of his features. The unharmed eye of his was closed, undoubtedly weighted by the water surrounding him. Body hovering over his own, enthralled in seeing a human man for the first time, you surrendered to the stillness of the ocean. Your eyes danced around his body, since this was your first time seeing a human up close, you were naturally curious. Not feeling your body move, you felt your webbed hand becoming drawn to his face. What does human skin feel like? You pondered.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a sharp kick to the jaw made your body thrash from his body. The man, who turned out to be very much alive, was fighting against the cold water. Testing the damage, you moved your bruised jaw around as he tried to swim away from you. The man hardly covered any distance and you watched as his movements started to dull.

Oh.

Oh!

Remembering that humans live above water, they must need air! Your tail thrashed against the water, propelling you past him. The man’s body fought against your grip as you swam as fast as you could to the surface. Despite his flailing, you sensed his life diminishing as he’d been without air for a dangerous amount of time.

After a final thrash of your tail, you had breached the surface. Rain splattered against your skin and your gills closed at the contact of air. Your grip under the man’s arms tightened and you hoisted his body so his face had emerged from the water. His unharmed eye was intense, staring into your own. You had no idea if his lungs was registering air, but his gaze weakening confirmed that something was wrong.

Quickly, you recalled a few sea stacks near the coast of Zaun which a sea cave resided in. The time that it took for you to race there must have been record-breaking, but that wasn’t what you were concerned about. What concerned you was the man’s skin now starting to pale.

His body was difficult to push onto the shore of the cave, his clothes catching the sand of the cave. But with one final push, his body was completely out of the water. Now it was time for you to figure out how to tend to him without drying out. The position your body found itself in was also awkward, your tail looped and winded into the water while your stomach was laid flat against the sand. You’d never been on land before, and the consequences were unknown. But finally you had something to break you out of your normal routine, and you’d be damned if you had to return to eating crabs in the depths.

Time was being lost, so you crawled with your front arms to reach his body. Suddenly, once your tail lost contact with the foamy water, you felt the air dry your tail. It was a strange feeling, as you watched the grey scales of your tail recede into what now look like human legs. Shaking your head, you reminded yourself not to get distracted.

You never walked on human legs before so you crawled to meet his face, which still proved to feel very unnatural. Your ear met his chest, just above where his heart should be.

Quiet.

He was dead.

Your fascination with humankind cost this man’s life. If only you weren’t so easily distracted. “Why am I like this?” You whispered to yourself as you watched his skin dull in pigment, the life finally leaving his body. A stinging sensation made your eyes burn, wiping them you found that they were wet. You had heard of tears before but assumed that only humans could produce such a strange liquid. The strange feeling continued until tears streamed down your cheeks, light twinkling in them. You watched as some fell onto the man’s face, but were perplexed when they suddenly absorbed into his pale skin.

When a few more tears fell onto his cheek, your hand reached out to smear the wet against his skin. It was the sudden movement of his chest that startled you. His eye was still closed when water forced its way out of his mouth as he began to violently cough. Spooked, you quickly found shelter in the water, your tail returning and making contact with the water.

Your head barely broke the water as you watched the man from the shore. He was still retching the salt water onto the beach, his body’s desperate attempt to empty out his lungs. Interest captivated you as your eyes followed his hand, slicking back his soaked black hair. It was mid length and had bits of seaweed tangled within it. The man’s hand hovering over his injured eye made you notice that the fresh wound had completely disappeared. Granted, there were still large slashes passing through his eye, but they looked healed.

Your mind had drifted off again, this time to the peculiarity of his injury miraculously healing, to notice that the man had spotted you.

The glint of a dagger shined in your eyes. You were still a bit off shore, just enough to allow your top half to be pressed against the sand, your back beneath the water, only leaving your face visible.

The man’s intense gaze returned as he clutched the dagger, pointing it intently at you. The slit pupils of your eyes studied his face. He was a beautiful example of his species. He had a pointed chin, and sharp cheekbones framing his thin face. It wasn’t the way his lips curled into a scowl, or the way his wet locks stuck to his face, that intrigued you the most.

No.

It was his eyes. They were stunning. You were sure you’d seen the color of his unharmed eye before in the ocean but couldn’t quite place it.

The words blurted through your sharp triangle-shaped teeth. “Seashell.”

Dagger lowering slightly, the man was caught off guard. “I beg your pardon?” An eyebrow raised as your head emerged slightly from the water.

Excitement washed over you. “I just now remembered where I’ve seen your eye color before!” You say proudly. The man didn’t look at all impressed, more like he was bored. Your eyes locked as you slowly descended back into the water. “Stay. Right. There.”

With a flick of your tail, you turned around and rushed out of the shore. You were quick to scour the reefs that lined the shore. They weren’t as active and diverse as the ones near Piltover, but you knew they had what you were looking for. A shell, that was blue-green in color, caught your eye. “Gotcha!” Your words were muffled as you were well under water.

To your surprise, the man was still there. This time, though, he had torn a piece of fabric from his shirt to cover his eye in a make-shift eye patch.

The seafoam green shell clicked against the back of the man’s head, startling him. “Sorry!” You apologized from the safety in the water. Apparently throwing was not a skill of yours.

His eye scrutinized the seashell that he caught in his palms. You watched him from the safety of the cave’s mouth as his lips parted. Before he could say anything, a large gurgle coming from his stomach interrupted him. Your lips curled in a smile, knowing exactly how to help. Though the man didn’t seem to appreciate the toothy smile, he stayed put when all he could see was your tail smacking against the surface.

Since the organisms on the menu for you were usually crustaceans and seaweed, you did know how to kill a fish or two. So when you found a fish, catching it within your jaws was like second nature.

Your body curled sideways, following the movement from your large tail as you made your way back to the sea cave.

“Food.” Your words were barely comprehensible as your voice was muffled by the fish in your mouth.

This time, the man was occupied with building a pile of driftwood. It was clear that he didn’t know how to label you. For all he knew, you could've just been a strange woman who saved him just to rob him. His eye was heavy with exhaustion as it watched tentatively while he made his way to where you were.

Your bottom half was still submerged under water, while your chest was barely covered by the foamy surface. This fish laid limp in your jaws as you watched him slowly approach.

His thin lips parted as he made to reach for the fish. “Who are-” You raised your body off the sand, to make it easier to reach but in doing so your top half was now completely exposed.”Naked!” The man hopped backwards, startled. Not knowing where to look, his eye darted all over the cave, so he could look anywhere but your body.

Your lips formed a frown. “Naked?” You looked down to your chest. Yes, you did indeed possess human breasts but human males can be seen without wearing any kind of clothing on their chests on ships, why was this any different? Shaking your head, you laughed. “You’re mistaken. For one to be naked they have to have the need to wear clothes.” Water trickled from your tail as you lifted it out of the water. “I don’t wear such.”

Stumbling backwards, the man fell onto his arse as he snarled. “Stay away from me!” His movements were sharp and quick as he tried to put as much distance between him and you as possible.

The fish dropped from your jaws as he started to kick sand at your body as a threat. Startling from the intimidation, you swerved backwards into the water. You knew humans were…delicate with their emotions as well as how they perceived unusual events.

Though this did rub you the wrong way, making you feel a little hurt due to the sand now stinging your skin. But you knew one thing about humans…

They loved to eat.

-

Silco’s POV:

Body aching, Silco finally amassed enough wood for a proper fire to ensure he doesn't freeze to death tonight. His good eye kept glancing over at the mouth of the sea cave where the creature was once laying.

His teeth gritted. ‘What the hell was happening?’ Today had happened too fast. His lungs still clogged with ash from one of Piltover’s warships. Skin burned in patches around his body where the cannon balls struck the ship, causing the wood to splinter into any skin that wasn’t covered by fabric.

Vander.

Silco felt his throat tighten at the memory. Arms grabbed my throat, holding my body in the air.

His jagged teeth gritted as he recounted how his friend, comrade and…brother, discarded him in the sea like old ale.

Skin splitting under his dagger, stabbing through his eye before flinging his wounded body into the sea.

A yawn escaped Silco’s dry mouth as he tried to fight the feeling of sleepiness taking over. He knew he had to stay strong, to not fall asleep. There are monsters in these waters, after all. But the fire he had just lit and was now huddled near was all too enticing…

Sun penetrated through his eyelid while an odd smell crept its way to his nose. Silco woke up to see the sunrise making the large stack of fish next to him glow.

And he could of sworn that he saw that creature again, diving back into the sea.

-

Chapter 2

[fanficmaniatic]

VOTE HOIST!!!

Transformers Robot Husband Poll (Round 3)

Make sure to vote on ALL of the matches here.

[dead-twink-storage]

You can't deliver violent regime change to an American liberal with an old white man droning on about Freedom and Jesus as he sends rural whiteboys and inner city blacks to invade and brutalize third worlders. But you can sell them the same death toll, the same misery of a nation in ruin, the exact same bloody end result through any token minority or "empowered female" waxing poetically to the press about defeating some dictator with democracy and progress (death squads and fundamentalist militants).

They will clap and cheer all the same as their conservative opponents did for the Invasion of Iraq if you hoisted a Love wins pride flag over a carpet bombed Tehran because in the end they love and adore the same warmonger state they live under they just want it's violence done in the name of their faith and beliefs. But when someone calls them out on this they act like they are only people keeping all precious minorities from being slaughtered and genocided in far right holocaust camps and that there's no more noble act than voting for someone who might as well be a race or gender swapped George W Bush.

[afsosville]

Time to over-analyze things with limited canonical information just because. Here are some of the reasons why Qing Jing may have been a hindrance to Shen Jiu's emotional development and solidified his corruption arc>>

Qing Jing was like the perfect peak to let all his mental wounds fester if you think about it.

Shen Jiu acting like nobility or an educated young master (as most disciples of Qing Jing are) is purely a coping mechanism. It literally screams masking! While the exact circumstances of how he got chosen for Qing Jing is unknown, we can assume he didn't have a choice since most disciples typically just follow their new master to wherever they take them from the selection grounds (with the exception of Bai Zhan lol). He was most likely hoisted onto the Qing Jing peak lord, as no master would've wanted him because of his fucked up meridians and late age. They acquiesced to take him anyway coz of Yue Qingyuan's/the sect leader's insistance. And because it's Shen Jiu, he would naturally do whatever it took to get to the top, and if he started acting like the very sort of people he hates, then so be it.

You can imagine how disastrous imitating his abusers is going to be (he's imitating noblemen in general, but he's definitely taking the Qiu's as a primary example). Shen Jiu clearly is trying to remove and forget everything about his past, and even accepts the rumours of him being a spoiled young master to cast away suspicion. He is coping hard. Not to mention, he was named QingQIU when he became Qing Jing's succeeding disciple. Listen I don't care if it was a bad coincidence or not but that doesn't endear me to Shen Jiu's shizun in the slightest (I'm only talking abt SJ's shizun in canon, not fics, the fics are great. But it's more than likely that SJ's shizun was negligent or abusive as well. Here's why I think that). Between all of this, there's no way he's processing any of that trauma when he's constantly forced to remember all of it. No wonder he slipped into the abuser role easily since he's literally out here actually being made to copy their behavior.

Qing Jing and even the rest of Cang Qiong were always hostile to Shen Jiu, even in his discipleship. These ppl went out of their way to run interventions on Shen Jiu when he's minding his own business. Yes I'm talking abt the whole brothel thing. There were doubtlessly so many disciples who went for the very reasons Shen Jiu was assumed of going for, so why is he the only one getting shit for it? Not only was going to brothels not even a crime worthy of conviction, it was even normalized to an extent. And it would've been so easy to figure out if he really was going for anything "lecherous" by just asking the women there. The fact that, that whole ordeal was never cleared up just shows they didn't actually care about the women or what he was supposedly doing to them. They only cared because it was Shen Jiu who was involved.

Shen Jiu being on any other peak would change things for sure even if it's marginally. Its probably just wistful thinking, but I know at least half of those peaks, even the fanon ones, would be better than Qing Jing at any rate. Again, Shen Jiu would claw his way up and try to succeed any way he can, so if he were put on another peak that would be a somewhat healthy environment for him, he would do well, regardless of the peak. Him doing well on Qing Jing doesn't mean anything other than showing off his awesome(horrible and problematic) coping skills. So really, I can't help but think Qing Jing wasn't a good fit for him, especially with Shen Jiu's specific brand of trauma.

I did a pole once asking if Shen Jiu would've done better on another peak, or if they were just curious to see him anywhere else, and I'm not surprised that the most voted for peak was Yin Hui, the fanon peak for espionage and assassins. Now I'm going to go another tangent why Yin Hui would be good for him later.

[milf--adjacent]

serious voting question: I'm an ml and generally I don't vote. can I ask what your reasoning is for voting third party? I'm curious to round out my opinion a little better

Seeing just how many people voted socialist back in the 19-teens was an inspiration to me as a baby leftist growing up in a deep red state. Even if they didn't win, I saw that I wasn't alone like I felt I was, that even the 'stupid' people of the past had some sense in their heads and supported policy and politics we still need even today. So no. 1 it's for the baby leftists to come who will feel trapped and alone and need a tangible connection to their beliefs: The number of people who simply didn't vote doesn't show up in textbooks, but minor party votes do.

Second: the democratic campaigning apparatus only serves to seperate those willing to organize from meaningful organization. By convincing people to put that same energy into the third party of their choice, we have countered at least a little of the Democrat's anti-revolutionary strategy. If you can convince a progressive to actually act and vote like a progressive, that's someone who might actually help when you need to set up a soup kitchen or protest in the future.

Thirdly: Many of these "I'm gonna vote anyway so I might as well vote blue" folks have never engaged in organizing. Getting involved with 3rd parties puts them in touch with others who are of a similar political slant, the first (and often most difficult) step in organizing. At least with the Greens in most places, they actively ask for help of all sorts, giving people experience in organizing they can build on as they become more politically involved. More people who know how to organize is never a bad thing.

Fourthly: If a third party can get just 5% of the national vote in an election, they are entitled to national campaign funding and a space in the official debates in the coming election. This would be a much needed shift in American politics. Democrats sound much more like republicans than leftists, and that's part of why they never get involved in the free and equal debates: the democrats are to the right of the fucking libertarians on a number of policies.

Finally: if a 3rd party candidate did win the presidency, a lot of the good things the democrats have held over our heads like bait for decades would get done, and people would have more time and energy to commit to political actions. I support 3rd party politics because at the very least it shakes things up a little. The status quo is what's killing us and any effort to change that disorganizes and spreads our true enemies thinner. Center-left socialism will not save us, but it will at least address the social ills of our society in a helpful way and attempt to tackle crisies like climate change, policing, and ending foreign policy fiascos via slashing the bloated military budget (even the fucking libertarians are running on that).

The general population of the US will refuse to even consider actual leftist politics without some sort of shift in our electoral politics. Instead of apathy and middle-finger-hoisting inaction, I chose an action with lasting strategic value. If we want a real "the revolution will not be televised" moment, we have to slap the soma of blue-tie lies out of enough hands to get people to pay attention. 3rd party electoralism is a step in the correct direction for them and a path I have started many people down already. I plan to continue until there is no need for it.

[fanficmaniatic]

You still have time to make the right choice. Suport Loving Husbands today! Vote Hoist!

[poorly-written-fiction]

talking in your sleep pt. 2 || logan howlett x gn!reader

pt. 1 here for anyone who wants to read

A/N: AAAAA HELLO EVERYONE! this fic - and "taste" - brought so many new and amazing readers. thank you all for your amazing support and kind words. i really appreciate it. i stopped writing fanfics almost 10 years ago, so to hear that you all like my (very rusty) writing makes me so happy. thank you all, so very much. here is part 2 for "talking in your sleep", as was voted on by all of you!

tags: SMUT MDNI PLEASE read at your own risk from here forward, logan howlett x gender neutral reader, no mentions of reader's anatomy or appearance, swearing, dry humping/grinding (because i wanted no specific mentions of reader's anatomy), logan lowkey likes pain but we knew this lmao, not super proofread just was excited to write this but also i'm not great at writing smut apologies okay i hope you enjoy bye

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” You were at a loss for words, completely taken aback by the situation. Logan smiled, “Did you have any nice dreams?” With those words, heat was rushing from your chest and rising into your neck and face. He had you caught.

“Were you listening to me, you fucking animal,” you spoke bitterly, trying desperately to mask your embarrassment. You couldn’t escape the situation, even if you tried. Logan hung onto your doorframe, trapping you between him and your bedroom. He wore that cocky smile and you cursed yourself realizing how handsome he looked with it on. 

“I can’t help my good hearing. You start talking in your sleep and I get curious.” He had you on the spot, looking and acting like he had you all figured out. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you, but you only call for me when you’re sleeping, now why’s that?”

I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you. You thought you were going to fall flat on your ass. You were done for in that moment, grabbing Logan by his shirt collar and kissing him with heated passion. His eyes widened in shock, before he rested his hands around your ribcage and leaned into the kiss, pushing you into your bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him. He moved his hands to the back side of your thighs, hoisting you up around his waist and resting your legs on his hips. He pressed your back against the wall, and that cocky smile painted itself on his lips again.

“You’re a smug motherfucker, you know that?” You chuckled, “Makes you hard to talk to.”

“Me? Never,” Logan husked back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He peeled you away from the wall, pulling you over to your bed and sitting down with you straddling his lap. He pressed another kiss to your mouth while his hands ran up and down your back gently. “You’ve had my eye for a while, but you wouldn’t let me talk to you.”

“I was just… nervous, is all.” You won’t meet his eyes, even though you so badly want to.

“More like stubborn. Had me thinkin’ you really didn’t like me,” Logan smiled, rubbing your hips gently. “You wanna tell me what your dream was about now?” Your whole body felt like it was on fire, making you shift slightly against Logan’s lap.

“Something… like this, actually.”

Logan hung on your every word, he needed to hear the words from you. He was so lost in the fact that he had you here, now, that he didn’t realize how tight his jeans were starting to feel. You, on the other hand, could feel the sudden hardness between your thighs, making it even harder to get your words out. You felt dizzy, realizing what was happening - Logan Howlett had carried you into your room, kissed you, and now was getting hard under your lap. It was everything you had dreamed of. You shifted again, trying to get a better angle to feel as much of him as you could. As you did, Logan himself suddenly became aware of what you were doing and realized how fucking turned on he was that you were doing it. His fingers dug into your hips, not hard enough to leave any bruising, but hard enough that it made you gasp. He pressed gentle kisses and bites to the sides of your neck, breathing you in in your entirety. He moved your hips against his own, desperate to just feel you. He didn’t realize that he was starving for more than your attention, but your affection as well. The heat building between you both was almost unbearable, but the tension was so delicious at the same time. Logan’s kisses were all lips, teeth, and tongue, and it drove you crazy. You dragged your nails down his back, earning a groan from him as well as a long, drawn out roll of his hips. You both moaned as your bodies pressed together, both of you chasing a climax, both of you still completely clothed. You both pulled at each other’s clothing without taking anything off, too lost in the heat of the moment. 

Logan grabbed your body tightly and rolled on top of you, pulling away both of your pairs of jeans but leaving your underwear, and his, on. He wanted to pull away every layer and ravage you, but something about the confines of your clothing made everything about the moment all the more sexy to him. He began to grind down into your hips now, his cock pressing hard between your thighs. Even if he wasn’t inside you, you could feel how big he was against you, and it made your insides tighten. You kicked your jeans the rest of the way off of your legs, before wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, and closer… closer…

Soon you were coming undone beneath him, clawing at Logan’s back and an endless stream of moans and curses spilling from your mouth. Your thighs tight around his body as you rode out your orgasm, your underwear becoming ruined in the process. Logan’s own orgasm followed soon after, his moans muffled by your lips, and his hips stuttering against yours, before they stilled. You felt the warmth of his seed leaking from the fabric of his boxers as it began to seep into your own. You looked at Logan, as he panted and gripped the sheets underneath you. He looked at you with hazy eyes and a satisfied smile. He was everything you had dreamed of, everything you had desired, and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet.

================================================

A/N: hello! thank you for reading! part 2 of "taste" will go live soon, again thank you to everyone who voted and has been giving their kind words.

users tagged: @heart-0f-silk

[hmmwellok]

@birdy-bird27 actually your many posts of DE have piqued my curiosity and every time i see more on my dash i'm pointing and yelling "there he is!!! :D the saddest man in all the land!!!"

first time playing disco elysium

dear god this guy is PATHETIC

I love him

[innuendostudios]

New video essay! On the Reverse Gish Gallop - how conservatives can ignore 90% of your argument and still appear to be winning.

If you would like more of this, subscribe to Nebula and/or back me on Patreon!

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you’re watching a political debate on TV. The conservative candidate has used their opening arguments to dump a truckload of dubious claims on their opponent. You recognize this maneuver: that’s the Gish Gallop! The debater makes point after dubious point, and, if the other debater doesn’t rebut every single one, they will appear to have lost the argument. These points don’t have to be good or hard to disprove, there just has to be a lot of them.

Oh, but what’s this? The liberal candidate seems to have come prepared! That’s new! They succinctly and efficiently dismantle each of their opponent’s arguments, offering a clear rebuttal to every single one. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve heard this particular gallop. So, the conservative’s petard has just fully hoisted them. [“What a hoisting!”] They’ve just lost their own game and have to go on the defensive… right?

Turns out, no! The conservative points to a minor error - maybe the liberal said their program would cost $40 million but is actually estimated to cost 43 - and treats them as an ignorant sap who can’t even count correctly. That is now the subject, everything else has been forgotten, and the liberal is backpedaling.

Wait, you exclaim, how does that work?! The liberal has to rebut each and every point but the conservative takes issue with one and stays in the driver’s seat? Are audiences fooled by this? Are liberals that easily snookered? The answer may shock you!

You’ve just borne witness to The Reverse Gish Gallop, where an entire argument falls apart if any of it can be disputed. These disputes, again, don’t have to be good, they just have to call the airtightness of the argument into question.

A good example is how conservatives obsess over gaffes. (Which, fuckin’... really guys?? [W, Trump]) Some Democrat will be all “conservatives want to shut down post offices as a form of vote suppression; they’re pushing voter ID laws and the post office is where many people get IDs; also we are relying more and more heavily on mail-in voting; they overwhelmingly try to shut down offices in Black and Latine neighborhoods; a lot of services like healthcare and courts still use physical mail by default and there can be serious consequences to getting it late; many elderly people still don’t use email, and, hey, maybe some of them like getting junk mail” “AH BA BA BA THAT’S IT THAT’S YOUR WHOLE LIFE NOW FOR THE REST OF YOUR CAREER YOU’RE THE ASSHOLE WHO SAID OLD PEOPLE LIKE JUNK MAIL.”

Your mistake was assuming that dishonest people abide by the same rules they impose on everyone else. When I was a teenager, some friends of the family would invite me along when they asked my parents to dinner, because I would play with their five-year-old and let the grown-ups chat in peace. And he’d make up games where we’d bat a balloon back and forth or whatever, and change the rules on the fly when it suited him. Because the rule wasn’t actually “you can only touch the balloon once per turn;” the rule was “Andrew wins.”

The purpose of a Gish Gallop is to establish a narrative not through argument or logic but force and volume. Once established, it takes a lot less effort for them to maintain than for you to establish a new one. If they shake confidence in your argument, the audience will often revert to the previous argument, whether or not that one was ever proven. It’s a not about which story is true, it’s about who sets the parameters for all stories going forward; who got there first. This is not a debate; this is a Zerg Rush. Understand: a dishonest argument is Lego - you haven’t dismantled it until every brick is separated. But an honest rebuttal? An honest rebuttal is Jenga.

[holylulusworld]

Blackout

Summary: Lights out. Steam on. What if Steve Rogers is a filthy man in secret?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Neighbor!Reader

Warnings: blackout, Steve acting like the golden boy, but he’s a filthy man in secret, dirty talk, smut, protected sex (tap it…),making out, dirty talk, a hint of fluff, language

A/N: As you voted for Steve in this poll here we go...

“No…no, don’t go in there” you huffed as the girl in the movie you were watching ran right into the murderer. “Great. Now you are—” you threw popcorn at your tv as it turned black. “FUCK! NO!”

You hit the buttons on your remote control. “What’s wrong with you?” you looked around your living room to find the lamps were out too. “Not another blackout.” You whined.

It wasn’t the first time the lights went out that month. “What’s the fucking problem? I only wanted to watch that movie.”

You grabbed your phone and activated the flashlight to walk toward the kitchen. You always store a flashlight and candles in one of the cupboards just to be safe.

“Y/N?” you frowned as someone harshly knocked at your door. Whoever it was, you wouldn’t let him inside your apartment during a blackout. “Doll, are you okay? It’s me, Steve from down the hall.”

“Captain?” you turned and walked toward your door. “Uh-is there a problem? Do you need help?”

“I kinda locked myself out,” he chuckled. “I wanted to do my laundry. I accidentally put my keys inside the washing machine. Now, it won’t open because of the blackout.”

“Oh, that’s…wait,” you unlocked the door. “Come in. I can’t let Captain America spend the night on the floor. I got wine, popcorn, and…well, we can’t finish the movie I was watching but we can play cards or something.”

“You’re very kind,” he softly said.

“Everyone else would’ve helped you too, Steve.”

He laughed at his stupidity. “That’s so me. Buck would laugh about me and tease me.”

Steve sheepishly looked around your apartment. Or at least he tried as there was barely any light.

“Don’t sweat it, Captain. It’s the least I can do,” you grinned and guided Steve into your living room, using your phone. “Do you want some wine, or water…or beer?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he straightened his shirt with his left hand. Steve cleared his throat to get your attention as you were busy watching his hand.

It looked like the shirt wanted to burst open. It was too small, just like most of his shirts and you swallowed thickly as you imagined ripping it off of his body.

“Doll, is something wrong?” damn him. He smiled that irresistible smile, making things worse for you. “Do you need something better than wine and popcorn?”

You whimpered as he stepped toward you to take the phone out of your hands. He shut it off, carelessly dropping it onto the couch. “I-uh…”

“It’s quite alright, doll,” he lowered himself to whisper in your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his lips graze your cheek. “Just tell me what you want. I saw the way you always look at me.”

“You did?” you gasped.

Steve moved his hands to your face, cradling it gently before his lips pressed against yours. It was an innocent kiss at first. You know the kind of kiss making you weak in the knees.

Soon it turned into something different. His mouth latched on yours, tongue delving into your wet cavern to explore and conquer.

“Do you know what I want?” he cockily purred against your kiss-swollen lips. “Answer me doll.” His voice dropped dangerously low. “I expect you to answer me.”

You squeak when his hands grabbed you by your waistline to hoist you up and carry you toward your bedroom. He stopped beside the door, pressing you against the wall to devour your mouth once again.

His taste and scent were intoxicating. One moment he was the golden and charming Captain, and the next, he shoved his hand down your pants to toy with your clit.

“What do you want, Captain?” you panted against his lips. “Please tell me.”

“I want to fuck you so good your legs are shaking,” he dove back in, lips and teeth attacking your neck. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

What do you say when a godlike man asks for permission to fuck you?

“Hell, yes…Captain!” he grinned before carrying you inside your bedroom.

You ended up making out like horny teens, laughing as you were as desperate as Steve.

Usually, you are into foreplay and taking things slow but that night you pulled your panties to the side, giving Steve easy access to your dripping cunt.

He didn’t hesitate. Steve pulled his jeans down, rolled a condom over his length, and drove right into you, making a noise sounding like a wounded animal.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” his deep voice purred in your ear, as he slowly started to slide in and out of you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You giggled as he wouldn’t stop talking dirty. Who would’ve thought Steve Rogers is a dirty talker and a filthy man?

Steve licked into your mouth as one of his hands slipped between your bodies to rip your panties off of your body.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Fuck me, Steve. I want to thank you for your service.”

“Damn…fuck…this cunt,” he cursed as he started to move faster, bottoming out with every deep thrust. “I wanted you for so long.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding Steve close to your body while he stuffed you over and over again with his thick cock.

“Steve…I’m gonna…” it was too late to stop the dam from breaking. You clenched tightly around his cock, dragging Steve with you over the edge.

Steve moaned your name and kissed you hard. He stayed inside as he looked you deep in the eyes before saying. “I want to do this again.”

“Same,” you laughed. “But…I need a break. And maybe, we can do it without our clothes on next time.”

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed too. “Sorry. I was…”

“Needy?”

“Needy…”

He gently pulled out to discard the condom. “I like your needy self, Captain,” you purred as he lay next to you, still panting. “…I mean…I like you.”

“I like you too, doll. A lot,” he dipped his head to look at you. “Next time, I’ll buy you dinner first…”

“Or we can order takeout and eat in bed…”

“I hope he got laid,” Tony grumbled. “It was a hard job faking a blackout. Why couldn’t he just ask her out? That’s just stupid.”

“Uh-Stevie is a little shy when it comes to a woman he likes,” Bucky shrugged. “I knew he needs a little push. And he got laid. I just know it…”

Tags in reblog.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

What song did you personally like the best out of this round? Did a song make an impact right away or did it require the full version? Did the artist reveal change your opinion for better or for worse? Tell me in a reblog! :D

(note: this is not a popularity contest or to vote for a favourite artist out of loyalty 💖 it's still about the song.)