buying votes

….is something an *actual human adult* is choosing to get angry about.

Tomorrow: why soup is misandric.

(thanks to cybermango on Twitter for this one)

IMPORTANT:

EXO ARE HAVING THE MOST IMPORTANT COMEBACK OF THEIR CAREERS THIS MONTH 

 This is the comeback that will decide if EXO is an important group in Korean music history or just another trend group. This is the comeback that will decide if SM is going to keep investing their time and money on EXO concerts, merch, and more comebacks, or just abandon them like they did with other groups. If this comeback isn’t successful, then SM is going to stop caring about EXO, and everything they’ve worked for will go down the drain. These boys want to make history, and they’re not going to unless we make them. They rely on us to buy their albums, watch their videos, and vote for them on award shows.

  YOU CANNOT BE LAZY THIS YEAR! 

 Last year there were so many people who just didn’t care about streaming, voting, album buying, and if that happens again this year then EXO is most likely not going to have a comeback next year. It’s just the way SM works. So please, don’t be lazy. Buy their albums. Watch their videos. Support them. Make their dreams of making history come true. Suho wants to get the daesang award for the fifth year in a row, and what momma Junmyeon wants, he gets!

So with a new comeback there’s going to be a lot of posts about voting, streaming, buying, and things like that to support the group for this one. We here at thatssobap just want to make sure everyone who does not have time or money to do so knows that you are still valid fans.

You do not HAVE to do anything other than like B.A.P’s music to be a fan.

If you have work/ school and have to wait to watch a repost of a show instead of watching it live, it’s alright. Take your time. Use the pause button while you squeal over things you like.
If you have any personal reasons to not share links, pictures, or videos of B.A.P on your other social sites then that is understandable and valid. You do not owe anyone an explanation for it. You should feel safe and comfortable on your social sites. Always.
If you don’t have the money to buy the album as soon as it drops it’s okay. You’ll get it when you can. Until then enjoy listening in other ways like YouTube videos or audio posts on Tumblr.

You are valid and as important a part of our fandom as anyone else. You are supporting B.A.P in your own way.

Keep up the amazing work, Baby! We’re super proud of all of you!

[INFO] Jinyoung is nominated for the <53rd BaekSang Arts Awards> Popularity Award in Film (Male) category. 

To vote, you have to download this app (for Android) or this app (for IOS). So far it’s only available for Android.
Go to the Film/ Male category, then click Vote. Jinyoung is currently in 2nd place. 

But first, you have to have 200 points. You have 2 options to get points.

  • Free charge: Go to Simple Charge. You have to download apps and play games to earn points.
  • Paid charge: You can buy points to vote. $1 for 1000 points giving you 5 chances to vote.

Voting is limited. You can only vote 10x per day.
Voting period is from April 07-April 28, 2017

ibisliven  asked:

What do you think will happen if the ontario liberals youth pharmacare plan is approved and then the ndp wins the 2018 election? it seems like it would be too expensive to continue the 4400 drug coverage for youth and cover 125 drugs for everyone. did the liberals do this to win support among youth before the election, and then to blame the ndp for reducing children's coverage if they lose?

The plans cost almost exactly the same. The difference is the Liberal plan will cover more drugs (initially) but only for youth and young adults. So I think they would likely cancel the Liberal plan and start their’s up to replace it.

The NDP plans will start up covering 125 essential medications for everyone, but they’ve said they plan to increase that.

I do see this as a bit of cynical vote buying in that they unveiled it days after the NDP put their plan into place.

Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw some cynical attack ads coming out of this. 

As nice as this sounds, the youth and young adults probably don’t need universal coverage as much as other age groups. When people are young, they generally aren’t sick as often, and when they are most of the time they’re already covered through a parent’s private insurance (from their job).

This isn’t to say it won’t help people, I’m sure it will, but there are other demographics that probably need it more, and pharmacare should be truly universal.

Long post. Hit J on your dash to skip. (I’m working off a tablet with the mobile app. Ergo, limited functionality.) Largely written to this song, among others.

Also, since I don’t know when this will end up on AO3, the Senator Kenobi AU is 100000% for @oddlyexquisite, because she’s wonderful people and one of the best of the best in a fandom full of amazing creative talent. Thanks for sharing your fantastic writing with us, O.E.! PLEASE ACCEPT THIS WEIRD TWI'LEK ET AL.

Have a beautiful evening, tumblr!

_______________

Qui-Gon was a diplomat, a negotiator by trade and training, and one of the Order’s best at that—but he was no politician. He counted himself among the lowliest of the low, dedicating his life’s work to victims of the broken political systems Obi-Wan sought to reform from on-high.

For the young senator, that often meant delivering his impassioned speeches to a mostly-empty lower Senate floor. Usually it meant walking the halls of the Annex Dome for miles at a time as he knocked on office doors and wheedled support for an infinite roster of wildly unpopular social welfare bills.

Sometimes it meant attending charity galas for endangered tookey-tookey birds.

This affair was relatively tasteful, at least, compared to some of the other raucous, glitter-and-stim-soaked affairs the young senator had been pressed into.

Qui-Gon had arrived late from a Council briefing, slipping into the gilded greathall just as the party settled down into a heavy, late-night-wine-rich haze. The guests spoke a little lower, danced a little slower at this hour. They pressed close to each other in the flickering shadows cast by antique glow-globes, and under the gentle swell of the classical quartet high on the mezzanine.

The Jedi kept to the outskirts of the room, grounding himself against the cold press of marble at his back, and watched. He stirred only when a sleek, chrome VR4 unit glided up to him with an outstretched platter of canapés.

“Do try one, sir. They are quite palatable for your species.”

As if a droid would know, Qui-Gon thought dryly, but obeyed none the less. He accepted a single cracker piled high with buttery cheese and glossy, pearlescent caviar that he knew ran upwards of a thousand credits a jar. He ate it in one bite, popping the briney eggs against the roof of his mouth, allowing himself a moment to savor this tiny, outrageous indulgence after fourteen days of ration bars, watery tea, and nutrient paste.

Qui-Gon nodded his approval and declined the server droid’s offer of a second.

Beautiful and rich though it could be, he would never envy Obi-Wan for the world he inhabited. The Jedi had meditated and showered, dressed himself in fresh tunics before he arrived, and somehow still felt filthier for being here in this rarified place high over Coruscant’s polluted haze–full of politicians who celebrated late into the night while their constituents starved or fought in their homeworld streets.

His young love was a wellspring of eternal and defiant optimism, though, enough that he could navigate halls and company like this each day and come home to Qui-Gon with his soul still intact.

The Jedi’s heart and shoulders softened for the first time in nearly two weeks as he finally spotted Obi-Wan at the far end of the ballroom. He was understated in a long, draped mantle of deep indigo and the wide, copper wrist-cuffs he’d worn every day since Qui-Gon had encountered him in that tiny, crowded office. The redhead clasped an untouched flute of sparkling wine in one hand, the other wrapped around the elbow of an impeccably groomed senator dressed in steely shades of grey and blue. Their heads were bent close in conversation, and each man wore a matching expression of solemn, graven focus.

“Rather formal, is he not?”

The sallow-skinned Twi’lek who had sidled up next to Qui-Gon was clearly drunk. His great, coiled lekku slipped off his shoulder as he leaned in toward the Jedi and crooked a finger in Obi-Wan’s direction. “I see the holoids. That one, he is your—” his expression wrinkled into something that might have been thoughtfulness, “bed associate?”

Qui-Gon frowned. “I beg your par—”

“He is cold. Very cold. Very—” he pantomimed Obi-Wan by stiffening his arms along his sides, standing tall, enacting a severe and unpleasant expression, “Untouchable.” The Twi’lek relaxed and poked a sharp nail into Qui-Gon’s arm, “You have my pity, sir Jedi. A frigid bedmate makes for a sad and lonely bed.”

The delegate nodded once, self-satisfied by imparting such wisdom upon no less than a Jedi master. He took a long swig of his drink, scrunching his eyes at Qui-Gon over the glass. He drew his face back and slicked his tongue over long, pointed teeth. “You like Twi’leks?”

“Please excuse me,” the Jedi deadpanned, and made an unapologetically graceless exit.

Qui-Gon’s form had never lent itself to subtlety, and he could feel the moment Obi-Wan saw him like a shaft a sunlight breaking across the room. He felt the instinctive, base thrill of arousal that ran down his lover’s spine at the way heads turned and crowds parted for the Jedi master, as they did now—daunted by his stature and status alike.

It lit up Obi-Wan’s aura with sparks of burnished copper, and left an ephemeral taste of the spice-tea-dry-sweet-grass flavor and feel of him that flooded Qui-Gon’s mind when they lay in their bed at night, sweat-slick and tangled up in each other’s bodies. He ached for more of it.

Obi-Wan was standing alone now. He gracefully passed his half-empty wine glass off to a nearby server droid, and the warmth of his smile dried away the last of Qui-Gon’s lingering heart-weariness. “You made it.”

“I did,” Qui-Gon responded with a soft, eye-crinkling smile of his own. He stopped an arm’s length away, extending his hand, “And I would welcome a dance with my frigid bed associate.”

Obi-Wan’s lips quirked and he reached out to wind their fingers together. “Such a profound and unfathomable honor. Certainly.”

Qui-Gon drew the young senator in close, and then out onto the crowded floor for an old, high-style Alderaanian waltz. He brought up one broad hand to rest against Obi-Wan’s neck. The other he slipped low across the man’s back, rubbing over the dip of his lover’s spine—already aching and greedy for the warm, freckled skin he knew was hidden beneath layers of tightly-wound cloth.

Force, he’d missed this, he’d missed this, he’d missed this–missed Obi-Wan so hard his fingers clenched tight at the thought of having him back and so close, safe in their home, in their bed–

Soon, darling, Obi-Wan’s expression seemed to say as he mirrored Qui-Gon’s posture, taking the lead as he drew them into the swirling current of couples. The senator pressed himself into the curve of Qui-Gon’s chest, arching up to whisper in his ear, “So is that what I am to you, master Jedi? Your frigid bed associate?

Qui-Gon pulled himself back into the moment, banking his wild thoughts for later as he fell easily into the dance with Obi-Wan. “According to my new Twi’lek friend, you are.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan uttered in understanding, then narrowed his eyes around Qui-Gon’s shoulder, scanning the colorful crowd as they glided across the floor. “Which one? One lekku or two?”

“One.”

“Tall fellow? Rather yellowish?”

“That’s him.”

“Oorol’pilit the Elder,” Obi-Wan pronounced and relaxed back against his partner’s arm, “He tried to buy my vote on Outer-Rim trade restrictions with unspecified sexual favors and a box of glitterstim spice.”

Qui-Gon arched a brow. “I take it you weren’t interested.”

“Not quite.”

“Hm,” the Jedi hummed, and turned his partner on the quartet’s downbeat, “Was it the pointy teeth?”

“Exactly that,” Obi-Wan turned his crooked, sunbright grin up to him. “My insightful Jedi,” he crooned, teasing, “My brilliant, insightful, boring-toothed Jedi.”

Somewhere to the left of them, a holocam flashed three times in rapid succession, capturing the moment. Qui-Gon made an irked noise in the back of his throat and turned them sharply, moving the wrong way just to spite their tabloid voyeur. Only with the camera blocked did he dip his head down, pressing slow, lingering kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead.

He cast away his humor for a moment. “I’m sorry I was so late tonight.”

Obi-Wan nodded, then sighed against the taller man’s throat. “I was worried,” he admitted, “I heard the negotiations almost fell through late last night. I thought the Council might extend the mission until things settled down a bit.”

“They didn’t,” was all Qui-Gon offered. It had been a near thing, though, and he’d come much closer to failure than he was willing to admit right now. Instead, he pushed his fingers lower, then rubbed his palm over the wide, embroidered sash bound tight around his lover’s narrow waist. “You didn’t come here tonight to save endangered birds.“

“No,” Obi-Wan said, willing to let the sudden change of topic slide for now. He turned his face into the thick fall of Qui-Gon’s hair, hiding his face from holocams and lip-reading political opportunists alike. “Alderaan will back the Ukio Agricultural Union in their charges against the Trade Federation,” he murmured, mouth just grazing over the tender skin below his ear, “Tomorrow morning, Senator Organa will enter a motion to create an investigative subcommittee into the alleged sentient rights abuses. Naboo will second, and Stewjon and the Mid-Rim ag crescent will carry it. Should carry it.”

He drew back, rubbing his scruff-shadowed cheek against Qui-Gon’s beard, “I hope.”

“I met Bail at his wedding last year,“ Qui-Gon remarked, “He’s a good ally and an even better friend. Discerning and shrewd in his work. He doesn’t cast his political support lightly.” The comment earned him a tired, sweet smile and another holocam flash off in the distance.

“It takes a much bigger name than mine to achieve any sort of momentum,” Obi-Wan admitted, “Stewjon doesn’t carry weight in the Senate chamber.”

“It will,” the Jedi said with a sudden, soul-deep clarity. He let the feeling seep, soothing and blue-tinged, into the Force between them, “It will, but it will take a little longer than one year, Ben.”

Obi-Wan stared up at him for a beat, then curled his fists into Qui-Gon’s roughspun tunics and dragged them to a halt on the dance floor. They were bumped and jostled, but Obi-Wan just gazed up at him, unwavering. Then he blinked and sank his long fingers into Qui-Gon’s hair, pulling him down into a hard, possessive kiss.

The Jedi uttered a soft noise of surprise before he opened willingly for Obi-Wan, letting the younger man push the flavor of breath-warmed wine into his mouth with a subtle flick of his tongue. Obi-Wan held him fast, whispering I missed you, I missed you over and over again between the damp, open press of lips.

Qui-Gon only pulled back when his lungs cried out for air. His chest heaved once, twice, in tandem with Obi-Wan’s own. “This is wildly inappropriate,” he said a bit breathlessly.

Obi-Wan’s darkened, heavy-lidded gaze remained fixed on his lips. “Isn’t it, though?”

“You look extraordinary tonight.” Qui-Gon ducked down to murmur the words directly into his beloved’s mouth, feeling drunk and reckless on such public intimacy.

“Mm,” Obi-Wan uttered, and kissed him again, slower now, “So do you.”

“I look the same as I always do.”

The redhead just hummed out a low, noncommittal noise against his partner’s neck and flexed his fingers against the man’s sides.

Qui-Could could feel the countless eyes and holocam lenses on them, glittering through the Force like predatory creatures in the darkness. The air around them had grown heady, saturated with a mix of voyeuristic fascination and arousal for the handsome political upstart and his mysterious Jedi lover, who until recently had lived most of his life shrouded from the outside world by rumor and legend.

Qui-Gon reached up, pushing Obi-Wan’s hair back beneath the press of his circlet. “We have an audience.”

“When don’t we?” Obi-Wan deadpanned, then added in a softer voice, “We can leave now. I got what I came for tonight.”

“After this,” Qui-Gon responded, and drew Obi-Wan back into the waltz. It was selfish, he knew, but he wanted this moment for himself–to have Obi-Wan like this, like any other couple in the galaxy, free from their responsibilities and the Council’s skeptical, watchful gaze that would inevitably fall upon them as soon as they set foot back on Temple grounds.

Just another minute or two, Qui-Gon thought as he fell back into posture, just until the end of the song.

Later, he would say that it was the intervention of the Force, and not his own battle-honed instinct, that he misstepped and turned Obi-Wan one beat before the orchestra changed keys, one beat too early in their waltz.

One beat before the marble column behind the senator’s head exploded into razor-edged shrapnel.

Obi-Wan cried out once and twisted violently within Qui-Gon’s arms. All at once he threw his entire weight backwards, then tripped and stumbled as he clawed at the left half of his face.

Obi-Wan!

The room around them went up in shrieking, animal panic.

Qui-Gon couldn’t breathe through the terror rising tight and hot in his throat. He stood rooted on the spot for a few, sick seconds–unable reconcile the immediate sight of his beloved’s blood and the stench of burnt metal and flesh and hair with all those afternoons spent across from a stone-faced Temple mindhealer and what will you do if Senator Kenobi is compromised, Master Jinn?

Obi-Wan keened low in his throat and the noise compelled Qui-Gon into action. He surged forward with single-minded focus, and reached for his lover before Obi-Wan flung one hand out, staining the Jedi’s tunics with blood and flecks of burnt flesh as he blindly pushed him away. “N–you can’t–“ he stammered, then spat out, “Don’t you—don’t you dare.”

Two more blaster shots fired at the far end of the hall.

“Go,” Obi-Wan hissed, teeth barred behind bloody fingers, his one visible eye blown black with adrenaline and pain. He shoved at Qui-Gon again and slipped in the slick, red puddle growing around his own feet, going down hard on one knee. “Go!

What will you do if Senator Kenobi is compromised, Master Jinn?

Qui-Gon backed up one step. Two.

What will you do?

His answer came back to him a split second before the world around him did. Qui-Gon snapped his jaw shut, gave his fear up to the Force for safe-keeping, and turned his back on Obi-Wan. Jedi Master Jinn–lover and beloved of no one in that moment–plunged into the chaos, his lightsaber brandished and blazing verdant.

I will do what I must.

Last spam for the week.

I’m going to just say a couple of things about Salvador that kinda get lost in translation… Like, I see a lot of people in tumblr acting like he’s a total angel, when actually any person who ever heard a Portuguese interview (well, and can understand it) can tell you he’s actually a big sinnamon roll. Some of you might have noticed this already, but I’m gonna say it just in case, it might help you.

Keep reading

honestly im not in love with the group like i used to be (im basically here for momoka lmao) (and maybe stu..?)

but like, some people are so salty? yall arent even in japan and werent planning on going and some were debating on even livestreaming

why you so salty?

theres a difference between reasonable disappointment and temper tantrums, and i feel like we’ve been seeing a lot of the later

Mexico City elections

*armed people charged into polling stations
*party representatives are buying votes outside polling centers
*electoral representatives are cancelling poll sheets when they shouldnt, in front of a group of people that havent voted
*political partys brought buses full of “acarreados” (people they bribed with food for their vote)
*people found trucks full of illegally marked poll sheets away from polling stations
#MexicoVSPRI

anonymous asked:

by not buying meat youre voting with your money? if enough people do that it WILL make an impact and it is!! and its certainly doing more for animals by not paying into an industry that kills and abuses them!

you know whats doing even more for animals than that? Helping actual animals. By simply going on a diet youre doing something for yourself and youre telling yourself that youre doing good and that youre acting morally, while you sit on your ass doing nothing. If some of you were actually caring about animals youd DO SOMETHING. Buying a salad instead of a steak is not helping animals, the restaurant that sells meat which youre eating at is still profitting from you. Adopting from a shelther is helping animals. Recue work is helping animals. Volunteering at a vets office, a shelther, a farm is helping animals. Feeding stray animals is helping them. Going on a diet and sharing vegan dishes on facebook is not doing anything for animals, its doing something for yourself.

Support Yixing’s solo album coming this October 7th. Let’s get his solo debut to break records in both Korea and China. Buy, Stream, Vote and spread the word please. We need to make this album a huge success for the King of China

What would you buy from me?

I’m making a new commissions price list and I was wondering what should I put on it? If you’re interested in buying a commission from me, what would you buy? Vote in the comments or send me an ask if you prefer to vote anonymously. Thank you! ⊙ω⊙

1. Pencil sketches

2. Linearts

3. Digital cel-shading

4. Digital sketches

5. Digital soft painting with lineart

6. Digital simple style

7. Digital chibis

8. Animations

9. Sketch animations

10. Digital works with simple animations (could be with any style)

Can I just open my mouth and say that I’m tired of those monbebes who put a lot of pressure on people to vote, stream, buy all versions, etc because it makes the environment very unhealthy? Monbebes are trying their best, but guess what? They have classes, jobs, no money to be buying passes/the albums, other groups to support, etc. It’s not fair when fans are trying their best to love and support the boys to make them feel like shit for “not doing enough” tbh.

“IF THEY DONT GET A FIRST WIN, THEY’LL END UP LIKE BOYFRIEND” um, I like how Boyfriend’s name is only in your mouth when you’re making this kind of statement, like….what starship did to Boyfriend wasn’t right, especially when they were becoming more successful in Korea, but that’s different from what’s happening with Monsta X. I’m so sure some of you didn’t care about Boyfriend beforehand, so like cut the shit lol

All in all, the fandom is getting larger, but that doesn’t mean it necessarily needs to become this toxic environment that’s guised as support for the boys