#john tester

[ephrom]

Do you think Brown, Tester, and Manchin have good chances of winning reelection in 2024? If not, those that basically lock the Democrats out of the Senate or would they be able to make it up by winning other, current Republican seats?

Brown and Tester, yes. Machin, I'm starting to doubt. And no, it has nothing to do with Machin's conservative leanings--Tester is only slightly to the left as Manchin is and I think he's going to be re-elected. I'm not sure if Democrats can get a seat to make up for a Manchin loss--although Manchin losing would barley change anything, in all honesty. We'd go back to 50-50 like we had in 2021.

[gwydionmisha]

Note: Sherrod Brown is an incredibly strong voice for the living wage and associated issues and a champion of the poor against the rich.

A group of super PACs backed by the cryptocurrency industry is taking aim at key Senate races in Ohio and Montana that could determine control of the chamber.

The crypto political network, which includes the super PACs Fairshake, Defend American Jobs and Protect Progress, is also planning to target Democratic Senate primaries in Michigan and Maryland, said a spokesperson for the group, Josh Vlasto. The organizations have raised more than $80 million to spend on this election cycle and have already helped nudge crypto-friendly candidates to victory.

[maladcptive]

𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 sent a request idea : poly141 ! x administrator!reader ? like where they are all pining after the reader and wanting to bring her into the relationship . 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 : vague john price x reader . 𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 : i'm using this idea as a bit of a ground work ! this is absolutely has series potential , so i hope you all enjoy , this is a bit of a putting my toes in the water and seeing what reception is like ! it's been far too long since i've written an x reader, so any feed back is much appreciated .

a walking contradiction, that's how john would describe you. pure as snow, yet just as easily lethal should the winds pick up ; not like ice, no, you were far too gentle to be compared to the frozen layer that thickens on the road, turning to slush, mashing with the oils from vehicles threatening any wheel to hurdle towards the cliffs' edge. no, you were more like the flurry of snowflakes against a moving truck, hitting the glass again and again until not even the window wipes could keep up with the barrage of white, so unaware of your own power, so innocent in the destruction you could cause - it showed when you glared at a solider who wasn't being cooperative, a near dead pan look as you waited for them to finish a tirade of nothingness, just for your sweet voice to travel around the office : are you finished so i can help and do my job, or do you want to continue being a know it all ? it showed when you rolled your eyes on the phone, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, elbows pressing against the desk as the phone tilted away from your ear as the voice behind the machine prattled on and on and on - subtle, civilian, perhaps, and oh so sweet, he knows there's a storm that lied beneath you, he could read people well, it was apart of the job, after all - the human psyche was a weapon, a flaw, too. and he knew that when he looked at you, there was a delicate strength ; the sort of strength where he knew you would be able to handle four rugged, complicated men, but would turn to putty in the palm of their hands.

price was the one to notice you first, the one to vet you ; a conversation here, passing glances there - he noticed the way you dipped your head when he did, the blush that bloomed on your face, the dopey smile that you couldn't quite contain when he spoke to you, the one that made his heart somersault and freeze all at once. but he noticed how when he did something wrong, you would call him out, a little tut as you make a passing comment about having to do everything yourself, how in a military base full of the most competent men in britain, they'd be lost without you.

"you know what they say, love." his feet raising to rest heavily upon the desks surface, his voice a rumble, warm, homely ; rough around the edges as his accent seemed to be a physical force in the room, an entity in and of itself, eyes that had seen far too much locking on your frame as you skilfully sorted through the numbers to ensure that the next squad had the guns and ammo needed, making sure that they wouldn't go without. "behind every man is a great woman."

your nose scrunches up, a smile on your face as your eyes creased, so expressive, "captain, at this rate i'm not standing behind you, i'm standing in front of you," and he laughs, you don't wait, continuing over the sound that made your heart clench and a giddiness that should've made you embarrassed "if you had placed this order, your squad would've been - well, best not to think about it, really." john knew his mistake, it was on purpose, after all, and it's then where he decides to introduce you to his men... he knows they'd be just as sweet on you as he is.

[visenyaism]

Are you still grading those fun theory rubrics?

I am about to spend eight hours grading senate election analysis work tomorrow while avoiding election results failing to do that and doomscrolling anyway. so unfortunately definitely not. if you want to use the rubric here you go

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Time to play... if you had their ass in front if you, would you EAT / FUCK / SMACK it?

1. John Goodman

2. Ed Asner

3. Jack McGee

4. Jim O'Heir

5. George Dzundza

Bonus: Jon Tester, but it's his meaty cock.

John Goodman - If you make it "fat" John Goodman, I'd happily eat that ass. Now someone is going to be mad I said "fat" John Goodman. I'm not body shaming. I just prefer "fat" John Goodman. Like a lot of other people.

Ed Asner - I'm eating that hairy hole of his all day long till he cums. Ed seems like the type that would have love that.

Jack McGee - I'm doing all three. Jack's ass is just too cute not to.

Jim O'Heir - Fucking it.

George Dzundza - Fucking it.

Bonus: Jon Tester - I'm eating it. Then fucking it. Rinse and repeat.

[terminallyneurotic]

i keep having dreams that a john lennon virus is hacking my phone and everytime i wake up from it i feel like my phone was indeed hacked. was it? no. i wish john lennon virus got my phone

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

oh after seeing your tags that you're a good baker but a bad cook, and your domestic soapghostroach ideas on bluesky Which of them is good at cooking vs baking vs cannot be trusted in the vicinity of a kitchen?

OOOOOOO OKAY

personally, i see it as this:

ghost almost exclusively uses only the microwave

roach can bake a nice batch of anyones favorite sweets; he makes the boys cakes for their birthdays themed around their interests 🍰🧁🎂 he doesn’t really like cooking and is just okay at it

soap has a professional range and uses it every day he can; he loves to cook and is really really good at it! he just strikes me as the kind of man who has a big stack of cook books in his kitchen and uses them all very frequently

[letterboxd-loggd]

Sabotage (The Woman Alone) (1936) Alfred Hitchcock

August 4th 2024

[bug-finder-tyria]

You really don't understand, John has ascended. He's an actual god at this point. Like he has more dominion over reality than even the other developers and he hates you. Hell, I wouldn't need to tell him because he's aware of everything that's happening at once. He drove someone irreparably mad. You're doomed. Respawning will only prolong the eternal torture. You make his job easier by respawning.

….

>:T

[hannaedits]

Five-Star Reads for December 2024

[rosemaryhoney27]

Sweet war

The Justice League was no stranger to summoning powerful entities, but as the glowing green portal ripped through the air in the Watchtower, there was an unspoken tension among them. They had expected a dark and ominous figure. Instead, a teenager with stark white hair, glowing green eyes, and regal black-and-green robes with a shimmering, ethereal crown atop his head floated before them.

Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, had arrived.

The moment he set foot—or rather, floated—on the Watchtower’s floor, he held out a gloved hand, his expression neutral but expectant.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said. “I assume you called me for something important. Where’s my offering?”

John Constantine, ever the opportunist, smirked and stepped forward. With an exaggerated flourish, he reached into his coat and pulled out a cigarette before dramatically crushing it between his fingers. Then, placing a hand over his chest, he said, “How ‘bout my soul, mate?”

Danny turned to him, eyes narrowing slightly before his lips curled in distaste. “Ew. No one wants your broken, old soul, Constantine.”

The League collectively inhaled sharply. Superman coughed to cover a chuckle. Batman’s lips twitched ever so slightly. Zatanna stifled a snicker behind her gloved hand. Constantine, looking slightly offended, scoffed and took a drag of a new cigarette. “Well, can’t blame a bloke for tryin’.”

Wonder Woman, arms crossed, took a step forward. “Then tell us, Ghost King, what is it that you desire?”

Danny crossed his arms, looking at them all appraisingly. Then, with a small smirk, he said, “Honestly? I just want some good homemade sweets. Best you can find.”

Silence stretched between them as the request sank in. Then—

“I know just the thing,” Superman said immediately, a fond smile spreading across his face as he thought of Ma Kent’s famous homemade pies.

Batman hummed. “Alfred’s cookies.” His tone was decisive, as if it were an undeniable fact that they were superior.

Superman’s gaze sharpened. “You think your butler’s cookies can top my mom’s pies?”

Batman turned his head just enough to meet Superman’s challenge. “Yes.”

Danny, watching this unfold, raised a brow. “Wait—”

Flash grinned and clapped his hands together. “Oh-ho! This just got interesting.”

Wonder Woman smirked. “A contest of sweets, then?”

And just like that, the battle lines were drawn.

Superman wasted no time contacting his mother, explaining the situation with excitement in his voice. Meanwhile, Batman sent an encrypted message to Alfred, who replied with a simple: Understood. Commencing preparations.

Danny, who had just wanted some cookies or pie, now found himself at the center of an intergalactic baking war.

“Uh,” he started, watching as Superman and Batman prepared to bring their respective champions into the fray. “…This isn’t what I expected, but I’m not complaining.”

Constantine clapped him on the back. “Buckle up, kid. You just started the Bake-Off of the Century.”

And so, the great Bake War between Ma Kent and Alfred Pennyworth commenced, all for the favor of one very amused Ghost King.

Two days later, the Watchtower kitchen was in utter chaos.

Flash had somehow been appointed the official taste tester and was already on his fifth plate, buzzing with sugar-induced energy. Green Lantern had made a bet on Alfred and was wearing an apron that said Kiss the Cook, despite not actually doing any cooking.

Martian Manhunter was curiously sniffing a pecan pie, while Wonder Woman was critiquing Superman’s rolling technique. "Kal, you are treating that dough as if you were forging a sword. Relax. Let it breathe."

Batman, meanwhile, had an array of meticulously measured ingredients lined up in front of him. Alfred had given him explicit instructions, and Batman followed them with the precision of a man planning a high-stakes infiltration.

Danny was sprawled across a floating chair conjured from his own ectoplasmic energy, munching on a cookie from an early batch. “You guys do realize I could just declare both the winners, right?”

Superman shot him a look. “That’s not how this works.”

Batman nodded gravely. “There must be a victor.”

Danny snickered. "You guys are way too into this."

Constantine lit a cigarette and leaned against the counter, watching the madness unfold. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Alfred and Ma Kent, meanwhile, were exchanging polite but intense glances, silently acknowledging each other as true culinary warriors.

The Ghost King had spoken. The battle for baked good supremacy would rage on.

[theemporium]

violet fluff, luke! “this is my girlfriend everyone!” and “i think my family/friends really liked you. maybe more than they liked me.” 😋😋

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

55. “This is my girlfriend everyone!”

.

“Luke—” 

“I need to tell everyone!”

“Please, get down from there.” 

“M’not high enough!” 

“You’re drunk!” 

“Am not!” 

You let out a heavy sigh, stuck between wanting to look away from the train wreck in front of you and terrified that if you even blinked, something bad would happen to the boy. Because, unfortunately for you, drunk Luke Hughes was a bit of an adventurer when he was the right level of drunk and his current goal was trying to climb onto the makeshift bar. 

It had been one last party to close off the season before everyone headed their own ways for the off season. They were ending the season far earlier than they would have liked, but Nico was determined to have a happy send off before everyone ran off to hide away and lick their wounds over the summer. He wanted them to have one last moment as the team they were before it inevitably changed next season. 

It was supposed to be chill until Jack and Dawson started handing out their homemade jello shots—and then everything went to shit. 

And somewhere along five tester jello shots and a handful of some crazy strong Czech beer that Palat had brought with him, Luke was far too gone to really understand or care about logic or reasoning—like climbing a makeshift bar half-naked was not the way to go. 

“Help me,” you pleaded with the older Hughes but Jack only cackled, shaking his head and already reaching for his phone. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” he grinned. 

You glared at the boy before turning to your boyfriend atop of the bar, attempting your best puppy dog eyes. “Luke, baby, please get down before you hurt yourself.” 

But Luke stubbornly shook his head. “I need to tell everyone something very important.” 

“Curtis is never letting him live this down,” Jack murmured with a snort.

Luke cleared his throat until all eyes were on him. 

“Oh god,” you heard Nico mutter from somewhere behind you.

“This is my girlfriend everyone!” Luke announced as he pointed towards you with a sappy grin on his face. “And I love her very much and I want to marry her. Right now.” 

“You aren’t in Vegas, buddy,” John called out to him.

Luke paused before he spoke again. “I am booking tickets to Vegas right now to marry my pretty girlfriend!” 

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, stuck somewhere between a laugh and a groan as you felt your whole face heat up.

“Mom is gonna be so pissed this is how he proposed,” Jack commented, turning the camera to you and giggling when you tried to smack it out of his hands.

“He’s not serious,” you said, though that didn’t help the fact your face was still burning up.

“I am so serious!” Luke called out.

“Yeah, well, get down and then we will see because I am not interested in a fiancé with broken limbs,” you retorted, letting out a sigh of relief as he began to climb down from the bar. 

“So, Vegas?”

“Shut up, Jack.” 

“There goes my offer to be your maid of honour.”

.

[goatgoesmbe]

Ik ramadan is over but i just wanna say sth… (this is not a request just tryna get this out of my mind)

Imagine ur fasting AND cooking (much to the boys’ chagrin, but they don’t know how to cook so, they’re sorry, love.) and you have to taste the food to get the salt right. So you call them over to have a bite.

John thinks he’s the luckiest man on earth to taste your food out of YOUR hands, will give you an accurate response.

Gaz lets out a delighted groan and compliments the cooking, gives you a painfully detailed response. Helps you around the kitchen.

Simon doesn’t talk much, gives brief responses (if you could call his grunts that) but does the dishes and sets up the table to help you

Johnny is just a damn mutt that’ll do anything you want. You have to tell him to sit and get up/off the table, to chew and swallow <3

OMG YES ToT) to all of these

John would do the dad stance as he supervised your cooking, and would ask for a taste whenever you added one single ingredient, just to make sure it would turn out good, because well.. he'd want you to break your fast with good food. and of course he would get you anything you wanted (he cant cook), but he also knew you enjoyed cooking food for yourself more so he would help you out because he's a good man 🙂‍↕️ (all he did was being the taste tester)

Gaz, would def the most helpful. even if he's not cooking, he's the kind of person who can tell what ingredients are needed just from tasting a bit of any food. So him being your assistant(?) and tester would be really helpful, complimenting you for eyeballing the ingredients measurement and getting it right, giving you detailed feedback and honest input. But it could also get.. a bit stressful? like you're being watched by a pro chef, getting you a bit nervous with his watchful eyes. He'd notice and smile at your pout, maybe he'd be a bit mean and actually act like a mean chef because he enjoyed your reaction, or maybe he'd be nice and comfort you. both good

Simon, XD. YES, he'd definitely stand there like a cryptid. saying nothing and just watching as you hummed and did a little dance while you were cooking. Turning to him with a pretty smile, you lifted a spoon to his face. And he lifted his mask to taste it, he would respond with a simple grunt, shrug, nod, shake of his head, and that's it. not even a single word because all he could think was how the apron looked good on you, and would be even better if you're wearing just that with nothing else

Johnny would be like a puppy. idk why but he'd be annoying as much as he was endearing. standing so close to you and followed you around- you can't even walk a step without him moving along. but you couldn't be mad of course, not with him looking so cute- the solution to this is to tell him to do something like setting the table or to get some ingredients from the pantry so he could give you some space. the thing is, it wouldn't take him more than a few seconds

[syoddeye]

Here me out pls

Nik in the Strict Machinery AU as a possible bf for reader for a NikPricexReader

Thank you for your time

hear you out? for nik? always. this was fun. nikolai is still nikolai in this au. that is, mysteriously wealthy and well-connected. he's probably fascinated by john. it's cutting edge technology, after all. available only to the testers that live in the building.

that said. i do not think their first meeting goes well.

strict machine anthology. cw: alcohol mention, implied non-consensual voyeurism, the boys are fighting

the hesitation is intentional, nikolai thinks. prototype or not, there is no reason for this thing to experience a delay. it's too advanced. his own cheap, voice-active coffee maker brews pots when he's face down in bed, slurring commands through a hangover.

he leans against the counter. "john. i said, black coffee, no sugar."

this time, it responds. "user has not authorized food or drink for guests."

nikolai smiles, a tired amusement curving his mouth. "she's asleep," he counters, pushing to see where the line is. "should i wake her?"

after a beat, the machine hums to life, reluctantly, he assumes. as the mug fills, he turns his attention to the wall panel. he ignores the in case of emergency and authorized users only stickers.

the nearly invisible door gives a soft whoosh as the compartment opens, revealing a sleek, intricate array of circuits and controls—a shrine to cutting-edge design. far beyond what even the wealthiest of his clients might handle, nikolai marvels at it, his fingers hovering just shy of contact. then, he touches its small screen, intending to peek at—

it zaps him. not painful, but pointed. a gentle warning, considering. nikolai shakes out his fingers and chuckles. "i apologize. i should always ask before touching."

there is no answer, until he retrieves his coffee. it is black, but one sip, and he knows there are at least two sugars in it. what a curious, temperamental thing.

"before she wakes, i should inform you that i was unable to complete your background check last night." john suddenly pipes up, voice clipped and stern.

"you ran a check? on me?" not the first time, not the last. good to know his team is worth their salaries, though. keeping him disconnected, his data scrubbed.

"i run checks with everyone my user spends more than five minutes with."

"surely i lasted longer than that," nikolai smirks into his mug, feeling the granules dissolve and swim between his teeth. "you were watching us, weren't you?"

silence.

"to make sure i was acting as a gentleman, as i assured you last night?"

"you were drunk."

"we both were." nikolai replies, moving to the couch. he sinks into its corner, one leg draped over the edge, lounging comfortably. he looks out across the sterile space. it is cozy compared to his own, but it has its charm. he is undecided about the assistant, though.

the thing is too over-zealous for his liking. he would spit if he heard his coffee maker back talk. he would take a bat to it.

"you must know her better than anyone."

this time, the response is immediate. defensive, even. "i am optimized to ensure her well-being."

nikolai chuckles. "'optimized'. is that what you call it?" he smooths back his mussed hair. "you don't like me. you're suspicious. that's good. it's very…human."

"it is not. i am not." a shift in tone. closer, too. like he's right on top of him. has he flustered the thing? "my programming is consistent and solid, unlike–"

"humans?" he catches a flicker of light, and a projected figure materializes beside him, legs disappearing into the couch. broad shoulders, bullish posture, arms crossed. its face is tight and stern, probably modeled after a thousand logged expressions of intimidation. the fidelity is nothing like he's seen, either. realistic enough that nikolai wanted to touch it the mole on its nose. his hand twitches before he recalls the panel's warning.

hm. interesting. more rugged than i imagined.

"that's good, john. because i'm consistent. solid, too. ask her about that later. she will tell you, or she will request pain relief." he lifts his mug in a toast, and the figure's frown deepens.

just as quickly as it appeared, the image vanishes. he hears movement from beyond the cracked bedroom door, followed by a voice. low, but not quite low enough.

"john?"

"yeah, darl?"

darl?

"i'm, uh, sore from...dancing last night. do you mind setting out something in the bathroom for it?"

something in the wall behind nikolai makes an awful sound. a muffled, metal-on-metal rumbling. an equivalent to grinding teeth together. his grin widens, and he spreads his legs a little further.

"of course, darl, i'll—"

"oh! and ask nik what he wants for breakfast, okay?"

he laughs quietly into his too-sweet coffee at the program's stiff and resigned assent.