#// BUT YEAH OTHERWISE CENSUS MOMENT

[cheebuss]

What's your favorite Soulsborne game? Is it Bloodborne?

In order it goes

Bloodborne >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Dark Souls 3 > Dark Souls > Sekiro > Dark Souls 2

I don’t know enough about Demon Souls to place it but i have a feeling I'll really like it!

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 133

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,000ish

Summary: Tony finally comes home, but that doesn’t make the problems go away. (Please read the note at the end)

Y/N completely unconscious for a whole 24 hours. The remaining team members never wandered far from her side, too scared to lose another person. When Y/N finally awoke, she knew what had happened. She could feel the change inside her.

“They’re gone…” She croaked, looking at Steve with teary eyes. “The Stones are gone…”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” Steve questioned. “Like you don’t have your powers anymore?”

“I mean, they’re gone.”

“Y/N, I think you’re tired,” Thor said. “If your abilities have left you, then you must be exhausted.”

“No. You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Bruce interrupted. “I think we need to leave her to rest some more.”

Y/N knew that they didn’t believe her. But she could feel it. The Infinity Stones had been destroyed. Her abilities were gone.

~~~

Y/N was alone in the med-bay when the building began trembling ever so slightly. Concerned as it continued, slowly getting worse, Y/N slid out of bed. The others were not too far in front of her as they all quickly headed out to the yard. Looking up as they all continued to walk, they noticed a ship being carried by a glowing Carol. She carefully landed the space craft, looking at a new shaven Steve with a nod. 

Y/N froze, heart pounding wildly in her chest as the stairs of the space craft lowered. Tony, being supported by Nebula, walked out. She couldn’t stop the tears that began to cascade down her cheeks. Tony was alive. Yes, it was clear that he was barely alive, but there he was.

Steve ran up to Tony, taking him from Nebula to help him stand. Tony gripped Steve’s arm as he joined him.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Tony told Steve.

“Neither could I,” Steve responded.

“I lost the kid.”

“Tony, we lost.”

“Is, uh…? Y/N…”

“I’m right here,” Y/N said, running up and embracing him.

Tony practically melted into her arms, kissing her head and Y/N cried. “It’s okay.”

“You’re alive…”

“You’re alive.”

Y/N and Steve helped Tony inside. Bruce immediately got an IV in him and told him that he needed serious rest and food. While Tony sat at the table, his insisted on knowing everything. So the team began explain as a holographic casualty report listed the names and faces of those they lost.

“It's been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth,” Rhodey stated.

“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census,” Natasha explained. “And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.”

“Where is he now?” Tony asked. “Where?” Y/N, who was standing behind Tony’s wheelchair, gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“We don’t know,” Steve answered. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Tony looked over at a sullen-looking Thor, who as sitting outside on a bench. “What’s wrong with him?” Tony pointed.

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed,” Rocket responded. “Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?”

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.”

“Maybe I am.”

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, Y/N was even searching Titan over and over, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that? I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the Stone. That's what happened. There was no fight.”

“Okay.”

“He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

“Steve—“ Y/N called, waiting to stop this before it got too bad.

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back,” Tony continued. "I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. So did Y/N, ya know? She saw this coming too.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus,” Steve pressed.

“And I needed you. She,” Tony pointed back at Y/N, “needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Tony stood, pushing things off the table. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling you—“ Tony went for Steve, only for Rhodey to try to stop him.

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” Rhodey said. 

“Tony!” Y/N added, though she knew it was no use.

“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world!” Tony continued, taking his IV out. “Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not— that's what we needed!”

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve retorted.

“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”

“Okay,” Rhodey said, trying to get Tony back into the wheelchair with Y/N’s help.

“Right?”

“You made your point,” Y/N said. “Just sit down.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

“Nah, nah. Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick,” Rhodey said, finally able to guide him back to the wheelchair.

Tony pointed to Carol. “She’s great, by the way.”

“Sit down. Sit.” 

Tony finally gave in. We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” Tony sprang back up and walked right up to Steve’s face, voice dripping with venom. “I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.”

It was clear that Steve was affected by Tony’s words. The old friends just gazed at each other in tense silence. After a moment, Tony ripped his arc reactor from his chest and shoved it into Steve’s hand.

“Here, take this,” Tony said. “You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

Tony fell to the ground. Y/N was by his side instantly.

“Tony!” Steve exclaimed.

“I’m fine,” Tony slurred. “I… Let me...” He quickly fell into an unconscious heap on Y/N’s lap.

“You shouldn’t have pushed him,” Y/N whispered harshly at Steve. “But that’s what you do, right? To get what you want?”

“Y/N—“

“No, Steve. Just, no. Tony’s always been blamed for everything. Always. But, you know what, you’re not perfect either and are to blame for a lot as well.”

“I never said—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Steve. Not anymore.”

~~~

Tony was brought into a private glass room, where Bruce was getting him situated. Y/N was seated by his side, while Rhodey stood by the door.

“I gave him a sedative,” Bruce informed them. “He will most likely be out for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you, Bruce,” Y/N exhaled shakily. 

“Of course. I’m going to run a few more tests and give him some more meds.” Y/N nodded, staring at Tony.

“Y/N,” Rhodey called for her attention. She glanced over at him. “I need to know… would you have chosen Tony in the end?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Rhodey… the choice was made for me…”

“I just don’t want him hurt.”

“I won’t. Trust me.” Y/N rubbed her fingers over Tony’s hand. “I love him. And… he’s all I have left.”

~~~

Rhodey walked out to inform the others about Tony’s condition.

“Bruce gave him a sedative,” he told them. “He's gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“You guys take care of him,” Carol said. “And I'll bring him a Xorrian Elixir when I come back.” She walked away.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked.

“To kill Thanos.”

Steve and Natasha shared a look before quickly walking after her.

“Hey,” Natasha called after her, “you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile.”

“We realize up there is more your territory,” Steve added, “but this is our fight too.”

“You even know where he is?” Rhodey questioned.

“I know people who might,” Carol responded.

“Don’t bother,” Nebula said, standing behind Carol. “I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden.”” 

“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan,” Rhodey commented.

“So where is he?” Steve asked.

They grabbed Bruce and gathered in the common room. Rocket stood on the table with a hologram of a planet.

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions,” Rocket explained. “No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago.” A shockwave visibly traversed over the planet in the hologram. “On this planet.”

“Thanos is there,” Nebula confirmed.

“He used the Stones again,” Natasha stated. She looked at Steve. “That’s what happened with Y/N. She was feeling the Stones. We have a chance, we could—“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted. “We'd be going in short-handed, you know.”

“Look, he's still got the stones,” Rhodey said. “So—“

“So let’s get him,” Carol stated. “Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this…" Natasha said. “I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.”

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce wondered. “And how do we know that Y/N’s not right? That the Stones are destroyed.”

“She can’t be right,” Steve stated. “Not until I see it with my own eyes.”

“And this will be different because last time, you didn’t have me,” Carol stated.

“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life,” Rhodey said. “And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?”

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.”

Thor, who had been eating in the back all this time, stood up and walked over to Carol. She looked behind at him. Holding his hand up, Thor summoned his ax. He caught it as it flew over to him, missing Carol by inches. But Carol didn’t even flinch, instead giving Thor a small smile.

“I like this one,” Thor smiled.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” Steve ordered.

~~~

Y/N was sitting beside a still unconscious Tony, reading, when Steve slipped into the room.

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked, awkwardly staying near the door.

“Fine,” Y/N responded, not bothering to look up from her book.

“Look, Y/N, I…” He sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then go.”

“The team knows where Thanos is.” This got Y/N to look up at Steve. “We’re going to go get the Stones back and reverse this.”

“I told you, Steve, the Stones are gone.”

“You don’t know tha—“

“Oh, I don’t? I just wasn’t, I don’t know, connected to them for years? But go ahead. Try and fix this. But I’m telling you it’s too late.”

“Don’t you want to try and get everyone back? Get Bucky back?”

She paused, searching her mind for how to answer. She knew Steve wouldn’t believe her if she told him that she had seen the future. The battle wasn’t over.

“Things happen for a reason,” she replied. “We have to accept it—“

“Unbelievable,” Steve scoffed. “I can’t even—who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question, Steve.” He clenched his jaw. “We are not the same people we were before we froze, Steve. And I don’t know if we’ll ever go back to that.”

“I’ll let you know when we’re home.” 

~~~

When Tony woke up, he was all alone. He was groggy from all the drugs, but he knew he was back at the compound. Looking around the room, he saw Y/N coming towards the room with a tray of food. Her eyes lit up ever so slightly when she met his opened ones.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Y/N greeted with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a moon landed on top of me,” he responded, voice raspy. “Oh, wait. It did.” He grunted as he sat up more.

“I brought some food.” She set the try on a table in the room. “I didn’t know what you’d be feeling like, so I got a little bit of everything.”

Tony carefully watched as Y/N got his food ready. Knowing her for so long, he knew when something was up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn’t keep anything from him. “The Stones are gone.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re destroyed. I don’t have my powers anymore. The team also found Thanos, they went to try to reverse what happened.”

“But the Stones are destroyed.”

“They don’t believe me.” 

“What? Why? You’re connected with the Stones.”

“I know… they still didn’t.”

Tony could see how everything that had transpired was weighing down on Y/N, whether she admitted it or not. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We can’t stay here. We need to move on. Start our live together.”

“We can’t just leave.”

“We can’t? Why?”

“Well, they… I… I don’t know.”

“Exactly why we need to go. I’ve already got a secluded piece of land with a small lake on it. We can build a house there. Try to find some normalcy.” Y/N looked out the window, biting her lip. “I can see the weight you’re carrying about all this… it’s not solely your fault. Don’t take all of it on yourself.” He reached out his thin, trembling hand. “Let me bare it with you.”

With a teary nod, Y/N set her hand in Tony’s. He tried to pull her towards him. She sat beside him on the bed, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“I love you, Tony,” she whispered.

“I love you too.” 

~~~

By the time the team came back, Tony and Y/N had already put together a house plan. The team came back with the news that Thanos was dead and the Stones were gone, not to Y/N or Tony’s surprise. The two left the compound to Tony’s apartment in the city that night.

They were both extremely sadden by how destroyed and seemly empty the city was. The first night was harder for Y/N than it was for Tony. Due to still being malnourished, Tony spent a lot of time sleeping. Y/N was the opposite, not getting much sleep at all. She was haunted by what happened in her dreams and too scared that if she closed her eyes, Tony would disappear. 

It was dusk, when Tony woke up from a nap. Usually, Y/N would lay beside him or still be somewhere in the room. But this time, he couldn’t see her anywhere. He pushed himself up to get a better look at the room.

“Y/N?” He questioned. “Honey? Where are you?”

No response. With a grunt he stood up, grabbed his cane, and headed out of the bedroom. He kept calling out her name.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

He stopped when he thought he heard something. And he was right. He heard sobs that were clearly trying to be concealed. Hurrying as fast as he could, Tony turned the corner, he heart shattering further than he thought it could at the sight. Y/N was on her knees, in the middle of the living room. Her hands were pressing a blanket to her mouth, trying to conceal her retching sobs. Who knows how long she had been like that, but the blanket was drenched in tears.

“Oh, honey,” Tony hurried over, getting down next to her. He pulled her into him, but she fought it. “Don’t fight me, hun. Please.”

“I’m so-sorry, Tony,” Y/N sobbed. “Please just go… I’ll be fine…”

“It’s clear that you’re not.” Tony pulled her back in, not caring that she was fighting. “You’re carrying too much on your own. Like I said before, let me bare this with you…”

“I-I can’t… cause it’s my fault… if I had tried any harder or pushed myself—“

“Until what? You died? You know that I wouldn’t have been able to handle your— I-I can’t even think about it.”

“It’s just… it’s so hard, Tony… it hurts so much… I watched them dust right before my eyes… the power I was given to stop this, failed me and now it’s gone… I’m—I’m useless.”

Tony’s frail hands took Y/N’s face firmly in his hands. “You are not nor ever will be useless. Especially not to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay…” 

He placed a soft kiss on her lips before going in for other, more hungrily. Y/N welcomed it, letting him have entrance into her mouth. When they finally separated, panting, Y/N and Tony locked eyes.

“Help me, Tony,” she whimpered. “Please… take this feeling away…”

Tony nodded before pressing his lips firmly against hers. Y/N guided herself so that she was laying down as Tony hovered over her, pressing kisses down her neck.

“I will always help you,” he whispered against her lips. “Always.”

It was a beautiful, long awaited night of love and passion. Both of them were beginning to feel whole again, completed, in each others holds. Healing was starting to take place because, as long as they had each other, everything was going to be alright.

next chapter >

My dearest Team Bucky, many of you have been so patient throughout this whole series and I ask you to continue to do so. I have a surprise coming your way (and to Team Tony’s). Thank you for your support and please keep reading.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[melsie-sims]

I'm still trying to decide on my initial sims founders for BACC Challenge. Love your town census section, how you broke it down by year and I've got alot of ideas from your posts so far. How did you decide on the founder names and Traits?

Soooo my founders were pretty random?

I mostly just started making sims without a real plan. I knew I needed a mayor to begin with, but at first that was meant to be William not Nineka. After making her, I just loved Nineka way too much and thought she'd be way better suited for the job.

I also wanted a family-oriented sim that would have lots of babies, which was obviously Hailey. The rest of her traits (foodie and cheerful) were randomized and turned out so good! Except her cheerfulness ultimately killed her... so less good.

Rusty was meant to be the farmer that'd keep the founders fed so his Loves Outdoors trait and aspiration were picked, and everything else was random. Andy's were completely randomized I think? I did NOT give her the Lazy trait because I never give my sims bad traits... but it made for some really good stories, and now Caeley inherited it so that's gonna be so fun to explore!

I think Will's were also completely random. As for my boy Jericho, I know he didn't originally have the erratic trait when I randomized his. I just thought it'd be a fun one to try out since I never use it usually.

But yeah. Lots and lots of randomness is my answer. The hair color + eye color were also pretty random. I wanted a good mix of genetics/ethnicities, but otherwise I went with my gut feeling in the moment.

It all resulted in six pretty interesting sims with very different looks and personalities. I do think since I made them in May my CAS skills have improved a lot. My sims look less "generic" now. One of my favorite sims that I've made more recently would be Prakash. He doesn't look like ANY sim I've ever made before.

[politics-not-my-thing]

I recently had to fill in a census which asked me what my gender is and gave me three options cis female, cis male, or trans (including non-binary and everything else) and it felt very odd and made me uncomfortable that non-binary was seen as a subset of trans rather than its own thing

It's such a broad and complex range of genders to try and cover under the label of trans rather than the separate label of non-binary

I always understood non-binary and trans as two distinct but overlapping labels, so you can be trans and non-binary, you can also be trans but under the gender binary, and you can be non-binary and reject both the labels of cis and trans, which is what I am, it's a personal thing not comfortably covered by a single choice question where non-binary is approached as a subcategory of trans rather than its own thing

The census acted as if trans and cis are two opposing sides, as if the issue was black and white, that if you are not one, you are the either, but that's not how it works, otherwise genderfluid people wouldn't exist and wouldn't identify as non-binary

I am non-binary specifically because I don't feel comfortable with such an absolutist approach to gender, that you your gender is set in stone, I am non-binary because it's not because my gender identity is fluid, ergo not nearly trans or cis

Don't get me wrong, trans tends to fit a lot of groups under the non-binary umbrella, the existence of transmasc and transfem proves that, and if your gender identity is fixed and not covered by the label of female and male, then yeah of course trans fits

Cis is grounded to the gender binary, making it uncomfortable for a non-binary person to use, both those whose gender is consistent and those whose gender is fluid

But the problem is it trans still doesn't encompass everybody, because it is essentially a rejection of your assigned gender, but not all non-binary folks are goings to reject their assigned gender, especially if your gender is fluid in which case your reaction to your assigned gender is also fluid

Take my specific case for example, a non-binary, genderfluid individual, who flips between responding to questions of my gender with an affronted "gender?!?!" and identifying as the gender I was assigned at birth

Because of the fact that I flip between two gender identities I never feel comfortable with either the label cis or trans

Whether I am technically "trans" or "cis" is constantly influx, not something to be relied upon or pinned down, and as such not something I ever feel comfortable identifying as

Both the labels feel like a rejection of my genderfluid identity, I feel like I have to give up one half of my genderfluidness to fit either of them

The only constants about me, are that I was assigned a gender at birth (whether or not I actually identify as that gender is a different matter), that I am genderfluid and that I am non-binary so that is how I identify, that is how I describe myself, adding the specific gender I identify as in the moment

In trying to include more than the binary definition of gender but approaching it from the stance that gender is fixed, this census failed to actually include me which was just sorta uncomfortable

It was a step in the right direction, but didn't quite hit the mark

[bean-na-farraige-agus-foraoise]

Please info dump about your magical traditions! I would love to hear more about them 😊

Yes! So. I’ve got.... a fascinating family to have received these traditions from. So I have a weird mix of Northern Appalachian folk magic and Braucherei (also called “Pow wow”). There’s definitely some overlap between the two because of the region of Appalachia I live in (hello being an hour from Lancaster, PA) but in general I’m still piecing together which aspects of the traditions I was raised in are magical and then from which side of the family did they originate. So it’s all very muddled over here at the moment- in large part because my grandfather won’t give me a straight answer on anything despite very clearly knowing the answers I’m looking for. Story time under the cut because this got LONG.

The area I live in is primarily German. And I mean this in the “they literally taught us basic German in elementary school so that we could pronounce road names and we have our own Oktoberfest” sense. One of the more interesting aspects of the area I grew up in is that it’s about 50/50 descendants of German Lutherans and German Anabaptists (predominantly Old Order and Conservative Mennonites). The area is so densely populated with Mennonites and PA Dutch culture that our public school art curriculum included how to design a hex sign.

But Mari, you’re asking- why is this background important? Fear not, we’re finally at my actual relatives.

My great grandparents grew up as neighbors. My great grandfather (Russell) was for all intents and purposes a German Lutheran. My great grandmother (Ethel) was raised in a Conservative Mennonite family/church that leaned pretty close to the Old Order customs. They both grew up speaking German in the home. (Ethel is my inspiration in life and everyday I aspire to be more like her will probably post a big thing for ancestor veneration on her soon).

Them getting married was..... to put it mildly, something of a problem. Russell was well liked by her church and her family but he wouldn’t convert to their denomination. Ethel refused to submit to the church leadership and married him anyway. She was subsequently excommunicated from the only faith she ever truly believed in. They had three children, Ethel sent her daughters to college and made my grandfather stay home and learn domestic things and it’s fairly obvious that he learned Braucherei from her.

There’s no doubt whatsoever that her family practiced Braucherei, I grew up on that same road that she did and her siblings’ descendants still live there and they and many of my former neighbors were not at all secretive about the fact that they practiced Braucherei- there’s a sort of awe to it, the use of it reinforces their belief because it requires calling on a higher power, so when it works it is evidence of that power at work.

When I was younger I was relatively friendly with one of the neighbor boys, and one of the big examples of Braucherei that he was told growing up was actually that of my great grandmother. When Ethel was born she was three months premature and weighed just around two pounds (I have in fact verified this to be true), it was a home birth, and she was not taken to a hospital as they feared that the ride to the hospital (over an hour over rough terrain) would kill her- but her mother was a braucherin and through her work and prayer Ethel was saved and lived and grew into a healthy child and then an adult. For several months they carried Ethel around on a pillow because they were afraid that she would break otherwise- and as she had eleven siblings they had a rhyme to remember everyone’s name and hers was “Ethel Irene small as a bean.”

Russell’s family was (and still is) very odd. Yes they were German Lutherans and thus also brauchers to an extent but their family had been in America for a much longer time, having arrived in 1789 as opposed to 1856. And thus their practices while still distinctly Germanic had garnered something of a twist through exposure to local indigenous populations, the enslaved and free African populations, the Scotch-Irish, and the English who settled and moved through the area, at times intermingling or cohabitating with the family. In essence they are more what most people think of when I say “Appalachian folk.”

This magical tradition is harder to nail down, particularly as it is still primarily Germanic and there are a significant number of brauchers within the family who have no Mennonite or Anabaptist ancestry. Basically the essence lies in the understanding that many of the spells or rituals that I’ve been able to attribute as being magical and coming from this side of the family do not necessarily require a Bible or a prayer to work. The opposite is true of Braucherei.

Ultimately I’m still figuring it out, families are bad at communicating, especially mine. But I was raised to view the Bible as both a charm and a spell book on top of being y’know the Bible, in the Beaucherei I was taught hex signs can have talismanic properties (though some really are just for decoration), what is and is not a spell is hard to quantify, and I’m in the process of piecing together an understanding of how Ethel used fiber arts as a medium through which to express her Braucherei (spurred on by the pressing question- why do we have so many identical homemade lace table cloths?).

I do urge everyone to look into Braucherei because it’s SUPER COOL. And I’m experimenting with replacing God and the Bible with my gods and the lore to see if the premise works. But yeah, it’s horrifying trying to dig through all of this when not a single goddamn member of my family could spell things in English until the lates 1940s-early 1950s. They straight up just ran around spelling English words as though they were German words, and while I respect the hell out of that, most of them also didn’t speak English that well but insisted on writing in it anyway so a fair amount of this is just gibberish, or names followed by dates that then don’t match anything I can find in their census records 🤷🏻‍♀️

[diavolodigitale]

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.4 Voeld

And, finally, this is the last existing part of this pathetic piece of writing. It is even more awkward than the previous ones since here you can witness attempts at “plot”. Anyway, there is no continuation to this and never will be unless someone manages to convince me otherwise (I don’t think it’s possible though). 

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Jaal, others occasionally 

Rating: PG

Warnings: cringe alert!

Size: this atrocity is around 17 PAGES LONG so, yeah, keep that in mind

All chapters: Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

“Pathfinder, you have a new email,” rang out SAM’s lifeless voice on the bridge.

“Thanks, SAM,” replied Ryder even though he didn’t really have to.

He approached the terminal, wondering who the email might be from.

“I bet it’s Peebee,” presumed Kalo when Ryder approached the terminal, “you know how she likes sending emails instead of just coming up to you and communicating directly.”

“I can hear you!” yelled Peebee from the escape pod and loudly dropped something on the floor.

 Urgent Matter

To: Ryder

From: Evfra

I received information according to which colonists from Taerve Uni attacked the Resistance Base. I do not know any details yet. The shuttle of the colonists is now being examined by my specialists.

I advise you not to spread the word on the Nexus. Come to Voeld as soon as possible. I will meet you at the Base.

 “Shit,” mumbled Ryder, dismayed by the news. “Kalo, we’re changing the course. The new destination point is Voeld.”

On their way James was sweating profusely. He felt flustered and didn’t know what to expect from the situation. He was afraid that the moment they stepped onto the icy surface of Voeld, the Resistance soldiers would raise their weapons and no negotiations would be held. Ever.

“You okay?” Vetra closed the door to the airlock section where he was sitting and approached him.

“Could be better,” he answered without even raising his head.

“Who else knows?” she asked, taking a seat beside him.

“Jaal, obviously.”

“Yeah, not telling him would be stupid. If things go south, he’s the only one who can help us out.”

“I just hope everything isn’t how we think it is,” said Ryder quietly and sighed. “We cannot allow any mistakes. With angara, there are no second chances.”

“Don’t think about it yet, we’ll draw a conclusion when we see everything with our own eyes.”

“Thank you,” James exhaled loudly as if their conversation helped him to calm down a bit and looked at Vetra. “I mean it,” he said and forced himself to smile a bit.

“Stop it. I’m so used to your dumb jokes that seeing you being sincere seems freaky.”

“I knew my sense of humor isn’t that bad,” said Ryder more gaily and lightly bumped Vetra’s shoulder with his fist. “You should appreciate it while I’m here with you all, ‘cause something tells me Evfra is going to beat the crap outta me. Then I won’t be able to come up with such ingenious jokes anymore.”

“You’re overexaggerating. I think you’ll still be able to talk, hon,” retorted Vetra and returned him the whack.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

They set together until the Tempest landed. Following Evfra’s advice, Ryder decided not to tell anybody on the Nexus or aboard the ship about the reason for their coming to Voeld. He didn’t want to make the crew agitated before confirming or disproving the information he got. This didn’t include Vetra because he knew he could trust her with such matters: she was the pillar of strength in every difficult situation, always able to think clearly in spite of unfavorable circumstances. Jaal was the second one to be let in on this secret since keeping him in the dark when it came to his people was simply mean. He was the member of the Resistance after all.

“Are you going to tell us what’s all the fuss about?” asked Suvi when Ryder was hastily leaving the ship. The tension aboard the Tempest was practically palpable at this point.

“Nope,” he answered without hesitation.

“All the emails are supposedly checked by the Nexus, so if something’s up, we’ll know sooner or later,” stated Kalo, remotely closing the lock after the Pathfinder left.

“Should’ve known that…” hissed Peebee in her escape pod, rummaging in her observer.

“Wait, Kalo, open the lock!” Vetra rushed onto the bridge in full gear. Jaal followed her swiftly.

“Guys, could you have made up your minds sooner?” asked Kalo irritably.

“Hurry up and open the lock or he’ll leave without us!” Vetra was clearly pissed and couldn’t see any reason for Kalo’s incompliance.

“If you exploit mechanical parts of the ship too much, they break faster and—”

“Kalo!”

“There is really no need to be so rude…” Kalo felt like complaining, but still did what he was asked to.

Using her jump-jet, Vetra made it to James in a couple long jumps.

“Hey, Ryder! What about us?” She caught up with him and stopped on his way.

“I think it’s best if you stay on the Tempest. I’ll deal with it on my own, nobody has to get in trouble. I’m the Pathfinder and it’s my responsibility,” he said dejectedly.

Vetra clicked her tongue and crossed her arms.

“Ryder, let me come with you,” almost pleaded Jaal in a hoarse voice; he was obviously anxious. “I may be able to change Evfra’s mind. I have known him for a long time now, you won’t handle him alone.”

James had already decided to go into the beast’s lair on his own so now he was just thinking over the plausible excuses to make everybody stay aboard the ship.

Vetra knocked on his helmet with her index finger.

“Hello? Anybody in there?”

Pathfinder loudly coughed and, trying to calm himself down a bit, started his impromptu speech.

“You know, I am really grateful to you all, but there are moments in life when you just have to accept some things and be ready to sacrifice…”

“Boy oh boy, he really thinks this nonsense will work,” said Vetra in a monotonous voice.

It seemed to Ryder that she even rolled her eyes under her helmet.

“Just take Jaal and go. But I want a full report after,” she conceded, “since you’ve decided that I should know about all this. See you later, I guess.”

Ryder and Jaal exchanged quick glances as she returned to the ship.

“Fair enough.” Pathfinder wiped the screen of his helmet with his left hand. The snow was clogging it, making it impossible to see.

The Tempest had landed right near the Resistance Base. Ryder didn’t want to go to the human colony until he saw what really happened and decided what to think of it.

Evfra was waiting for him inside the construction hunched over the reports lying on the table. It was dead cold, as always, but, because James was so uneasy, he felt as if he was on Elaaden with its scorching sun and torrid sands.

“Pathfinder,” sharply said Evfra, still towering over the pile of datapads on the table. That startled Ryder who was at the moment thinking of how to initialize the conversation.

“Evfra… I already forgot how cold it is on Voeld on days like this…” James was nervously rubbing the holster of a pistol attached to his leg. Jaal tried to encourage him with a light pat on the back, letting him know that he was still there.

“I’ve inspected everything. No casualties from our side. A few angara are mildly injured, but nothing serious,” went on Evfra. Surprisingly to Ryder, he did not even sound particularly mad.

“Meaning… you are not going to beat me?” asked the Pathfinder cautiously.

“I was thinking about that,”—Evfra finally turned around and faced Ryder—“but no. Not today, at least.” He nodded to Jaal, recognizing his presence.

“What about those who attempted an attack?” asked Jaal who obviously had more control of himself than Ryder.

“Little is known for sure. They were wearing colonists’ outfits. The shuttle also belonged to the colony. Nobody survived the attack, so we couldn’t interrogate them. At the moment we have a crashed shuttle and five unidentified bodies,” emotionlessly reported Evfra.

Jaal addressed Ryder, who looked like he was awaiting further intelligence still.

“Ryder, we should take a look at the shuttle.”

“Yes, of course. Let’s go,” agreed the Pathfinder almost immediately.

Evfra led Ryder and Jaal to the crash site. A few angaran soldiers were guarding it.

“Quite far from the Base itself,” noticed Jaal.

“Yes, and only one shuttle. It doesn’t look like a well-planned intrusion to me.” Evfra dismissed the soldiers and invited the Pathfinder to examine the site.

With estranged look and blank mind, Ryder began scanning. Even though Evfra didn’t seem mad and the other angara weren’t hostile towards him, the situations worried him. He couldn’t understand why somebody would do something like this. The colony on Voeld symbolized the union of two races and served the needs of both. People who agreed to live there knew what they signed up for when they came to the planet shared with the angara.

“Pathfinder, I cannot identify these people. They are not on the list of Voeld inhabitants,” reported SAM using public channel.

“What about the Nexus?” asked Ryder, confused. “We are the only people who came to Andromeda. There is no way they are not from the Nexus.”

“At the moment I have no access to full census. You can request that the next time you’re on the station,” responded SAM.

Ryder continued to scan, desperate to find at least some useful clues, while Evfra and Jaal were examining the bodies and the equipment of the intruders.

“The clothes as well as some of their supplies indeed come from Taerve Uni. They were listed as missing a week ago,” continued SAM after Ryder scanned the leftovers of a few containers.

“Why didn’t we receive any reports about that?” he asked. It seemed as quite an important piece of information to not share with the leadership of the Nexus.

“Perhaps, the governor of the colony considered it to be too insignificant to inform the Pathfinder,” assumed Jaal.

“What about their weapons?” asked Ryder the AI, agitated.

“The colonists do not use these models. They come from elsewhere.”

Evfra was looking through the possession of one of the attackers when he found an almost undamaged datapad. He shook the snow and ashes off of it and held it out to the Pathfinder.

“Ryder, take a look at this.”

“Is it… kett?” Ryder scanned the datapad just to be sure, although he could already recognize those scribbles. “It’s encrypted. SAM, can you decode it?”

“Yes, Pathfinder. I would need a few minutes to do that.”

Ryder’s worries grew bigger and bigger starting from the minute he read Evfra’s email on his terminal on the Tempest. Worse than human colonists attacking the Resistance Base could be only human colonists affiliated with the kett.

“Hey, human,” Evfra addressed James after watching him struggling with himself for a minute or so, “do not lose hope yet. The attempt was too disorganized. I don’t think your people are planning a conspiracy against angara. Although, if we presumed that you were the one responsible for it, then all the sloppiness would be justified, and we should lock you up.”

Jaal chuckled softly. For somebody whose people have recently been attacked, both Jaal and Evfra seemed a little bit too carefree.

Soon SAM’s voice distracted Ryder from his thoughts and brought back to the real world.

“Pathfinder, I have decrypted the data. This datapad appears to hold the plans regarding the attack. It also includes the navpoints as well as the layouts of the angaran Resistance Base on Voeld as well as for the human colony Taerve Uni.”

The details SAM discovered didn’t quite fit into the picture in general, so Jaal said aloud what, perhaps, most of those who gathered there were concerned about.

“I do not understand why the colonists would need the navpoints for these locations. If they live on Voeld, they should know where the Base is situated since they cooperate tightly with the Resistance.”

Ryder was barely listening. He couldn’t apprehend that somebody on his side would commit such a treachery so he decided to get to know the truth, whatever the cost. He used his omni-tool to get in touch with the Tempest.

“Suvi, contact Priya Blake and ask her about the missing clothes and supplies. I want to know everything. Also check where one can find these weapons. I’m sending the scans.”

“Will do,” calmly answered Suvi without asking any additional questions.  

“Let’s get back inside. I’ve heard humans don’t perform very well in the cold,” rather stated than offered Evfra and headed back into the building.

James silently agreed and followed. On their way inside, Jaal approached him, worried about his reaction to the events.

“Evfra is right. You should not lose hope, Ryder. Anything is possible, especially if the kett are involved. And you shouldn’t forget that he also will not abandon attempts to establish beneficial cooperation between our species that easily. Even though he tries to pretend that he will.”

Ryder simply nodded in response.

“Do all humans value our alliance as much as you do, Pathfinder?” asked Evfra inside the hideout, already nestling beside a specially constructed heater. His voice gave in his genuine interest.

“Frankly speaking, I have no idea. I just try to believe they do,” answered Ryder. He had not given it much thought previously.

“So, at the moment everything holds only on your initiative? In that case, I would really like to know about your motivation. Besides survival of the species.”

Ryder took some time to reflect on his own viewpoint. There weren’t any other species in the Andromeda galaxy with which his people could build an alliance, but it seemed to him that something made him feel a special kind of sympathy towards angara.

“You know, while on Aya, I met your chief astronomer, Maariko,” he said, confusing everybody as to how it related to Evfra’s questions. “He asked me to find several missing anagaran satellites. To cut the long story short, we found out that they were scavenged and taken to pieces by exiles from Kadara, and the team he sent to locate those satellites was vanquished. I wasn’t responsible for that, exiles aren’t part of the Nexus anymore, but still… When I told him what happened, he was so… disappointed. He was so enthusiastic about our people working together, but this news made him change so drastically. Seeing him like that made me feel the worst I have ever felt in my life,” he summed up. He sounded tired and upset having to recall this story.

Evfra wistfully hemmed. He took a seat on the chair at his desk and turned to face Ryder and Jaal.

“Is regret your driving force then? Do you do this only because you’re ashamed and want to prove that humans aren’t that bad?”

“I—”

“Evfra,” almost exclaimed Jaal, interrupting James with no remorse. “Ryder must not feel ashamed of what other humans do, the same way we are not ashamed of the deeds of Akksul and his kind. Every individual is responsible only for his own actions.”

“I see you two grew to understand each other quite well…” said Evfra and nodded to himself. “But it doesn’t matter. Your worries are groundless. I am not trying to offend the Pathfinder, Jaal. I just wanted to know what he thinks of the situation we’re in.”

Jaal’s courage and support inspired Ryder to be more confident and not to yield to Evfra’s provocations. No matter the obstacles he had to overcome, his purpose was true and he would stick to it till the end, even if everybody doubted him.

“I think that this newly established bond between our species is beneficial for everybody. It is not perfect, we still have lots of stuff to work on, sure. And this is why I will do my best. If we really are the ones to blame in this incident, I’ll pay the price and earn your forgiveness. That’s what I think,” he said, somehow making it sound as though he prepared this speech long ago.

“I can respect such an answer,” said Evfra approvingly.

Ryder’s omni-tool made a beeping sound letting him know that somebody was on the line.

“It’s Suvi,” stated James to inform everybody else in the room before turning on the public channel.

“Ryder, the supplies from Taerve Uni appear to have been stolen. The security footage shows a group of people entering the warehouse and taking some of the stuff. Presumably at that time one shuttle was stolen as well. Priya Blake says one of the colonists had to be helping the intruders since they weren’t able to find any other clues and all other footage appears to be corrupted.”

“Got it. What about the rifles?”

“They seem to implement some of non-Initiative technologies. Our best bet would be to say that they come from Kadara.”

“Exiles then,” said Jaal quietly to himself.

“Thanks for your help, Suvi,” said Ryder and turned off the communication device, not letting Suvi ask any questions about what was happening.

“I suggest we go to Kadara right away. We shouldn’t waste any time,” said Jaal.

“Yeah, I would also like to get things sorted out as soon as possible,” agreed James.

He tried to take this incident in all its seriousness. Even if it meant running from one planet to another in search of any bits of useful data. Besides, the possibility of exiles being responsible for the offense gave him courage. Believing that the colonists had barely anything to do with the incident was all that kept him going.

“There is no need to do that. I will reach out to my agents in the port immediately and let you know once they discover anything important,” suggested Evfra.

His proposal looked like a real gesture of goodwill. Even though it was a little suspicious of him to make the life of the Pathfinder easier instead of complicating it, Ryder didn’t feel like refusing.

“That would be really convenient. We will stay on the Voeld’s orbit for now then. Are you going to come back to Aya?”

“No, not now. I’ll stay here until we clarify everything. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else. Do you have a minute?” asked Evfra mysteriously. Ryder could not even imagine what else he would want to discuss after the matter with the colonists was settled for the time being.

“I’ll return to the Tempest, you can take your time. Goodbye, Evfra,” said Jaal, retreating before he was asked to. He felt that he shouldn’t stay. Since Evfra wasn’t really mad, his job there was done, so he decided to return to the ship and give them some privacy.

After Jaal disappeared out of their sight, Evfra offered Ryder a seat. The surface of a chair was quite cold to the touch.

“As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk about Jaal,” began Evfra. “I’m glad he left without me having to ask him to do so.”

“Is something bothering you?”

“Not bothering, no. I am wondering how he’s doing on the Tempest.”

Evfra was not the type that would talk much and especially not the type that would uncover that he worried about someone. Seeing him being open about what he cared about made Ryder feel more at ease in his presence.

“Jaal has become a valuable member of our team. He always provides us with helpful insights in situations otherwise obscure to us as newcomers. And he’s a skillful fighter, what more could I ask for,” he replied happily. There really couldn’t be too much praise for Jaal after what he did to help them.

“Good. I want to make sure he doesn’t feel left out. After our experience with kett, it was very risky to let him go with an outsider.”

The moment James met Jaal, he immediately understood that this angara is one of the most adventurous and decisive aliens he had ever seen. Nonetheless, only weeks after did he realize how big of a step had his new teammate made in terms of changing angaran foreign policy. The kett were the only aliens they had met before and that contact certainly didn’t have any positive outcome.

“You don’t have to worry,” said Ryder, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I mean, cultural clashes are unavoidable, but nothing we cannot handle so far. The Tempest crew is as diverse as it can be, so he fits like a puzzle piece.”

“Keep it that way. Or I will be forced to retrieve him. He is still an important agent of the Resistance,” said Evfra in a serious tone, although not threatening. He admired Jaal as one of the best assets in his movement and, understandably, didn’t want to lose him.

“I don’t think you will be able to do that. He seems to enjoy being on the Tempest. And, at this point, I won’t let him go,” said the Pathfinder laughingly.

“Do you like him that much?” asked Evfra. From the tone of his voice or the look on his face it was difficult to determine if it was a serious question or not.

“Well, he is a great interlocutor,” began Ryder, not really knowing what exactly Evfra expected to hear. “Considering the fact that he doesn’t know much about our customs and habits, he holds himself pretty well. Also, the female part of the crew seems to be fond of him. Especially the female part. And Liam. For some reason.”

The expression on Evfra’s face was one of confusion and incomprehension mixed together. Hearing this was definitely not something he anticipated.

“Are you saying that they are attracted to him?” he inquired in an attempt to define what Ryder meant.

“Kind of. Nothing serious, I’m sure, but he knows what to say and not say. Albeit I start doubting that when he opens a discussion about how asari reproduce. That is uncomfortable.”  Ryder bit his lip looking blankly at the snowy floor beneath him and thinking of how to continue the conversation. “Anywa-a-ay,” he began in a sing-song voice, seemingly having come up with something else worth noting, “coming back to his positive sides, he smells really nice. You also smell nice, by the way. I mean… not that I’m sniffing,”—he rubbed his neck like he usually did when he was nervous—“probably, it’s because of the lotion. Or something else. Jaal told that angara use lots of different self-care thingies, a-and I probably should stop talking about that already, shouldn’t I..?”

Evfra did his best not to bury his face in his palms because of how uncomfortable he was. There was always this moment during his conversations with Ryder when he just didn’t know how to react. He thought that if all humans were so perplexing and held so little control over their emotions, communicating with them on a daily basis must have been a real pain.

“You say your crewmates are discussing ways of reproduction,”—he tried to skip the embarrassing bits of the conversation and get to what really interested him—“I recon Milky Way settlers don’t know much about angara. We are not used to affairs with other species. Isn’t it too early to talk about such matters?”

“Humans discovered the intergalactic community less than 30 years ago and… well, plus 600 years we spent to get here, but let’s disregard that for now. All I’m saying is it didn’t take us long to fully adapt. Even though previously we too thought we were alone in the world. And, dare I add, our first contact with an alien race developed into a 3-month war. At least you’re not willing to fight us just ‘cause you don’t like us,” said Ryder without giving it much thought. Evfra was quite surprised at how confident the Pathfinder was in his words, almost as if he had previously considered this problem.

“Then that is your standpoint. I see,” replied Evfra and crossed his legs. For James it looked a bit weird considering angaran anatomy, but he tried not to stare. It was already awkward enough.

“Back at the Milky Way there were some species not compatible with human physiology at all,” began Ryder again. “Having all kinds of strange tentacles and rows of sharp teeth. And the batarians… Just imagine something staring at you with four eyes”—James twitched sharply—“I still have chills. So, yeah, angara don’t seem as such a bad option to me.”

“But isn’t survival of your race a priority now? There is no future for you if you don’t create great families and develop a new community,” objected Evfra. However persuasive the Pathfinder was, some of his opinions just did not sound practical to Evfra.

“I look at how angara cherish every member of their huge families and I aspire for us to live that way. But you just cannot force yourself if you strive for something else. Or somebody else,” said James without prevaricating.

Evfra narrowed his eyes and started drumming his fingers on the desk.

“That’s an interesting thought to hear from a person holding a position like yours. I don’t think your superiors would like it.”

“Well, I’m my own person.” Ryder leaned on the back of his chair. It didn’t seem so cold anymore. “And I still don’t get paid for the job so the least they could do is letting me date who I want to.”

“Be careful, Ryder. Now you make it sound as if it never was about the choice of others but rather about your own decision regarding this issue,” warned him Evfra. Despite his serious tone, he had no intention of revealing what Ryder told him to anybody else.

“Even if it is, what’s then?”—James tilted his head to the left a little—“unions between separate individuals of our species would have a great influence on our affiliation in general. If we can feel sympathy towards each other, then we are not so different after all. Sometimes you have to sacrifice something to have something else instead.” He sighed and slightly disappointedly added, “and my genes aren’t special or anything, so the humanity won’t lose much.”

Evfra checked the time on the terminal on his desk. He then stood up, implicating that it was probably time to wrap up the talks.

“It’s already quite late so I won’t hold you here any longer, Pathfinder. Your crew has waited more than enough.”

“Guess you’re right.”

Ryder stood up as well and quickly adjusted weapons hanging on his leg and back.

“I’ll accompany you to the Tempest if you don’t mind,” said Evfra.

“Not at all. Sometimes I get lost in your caves here so it’s always nice to have somebody show me the way around.”

They exited the room and set off into the network of icy caves, filled with equipment and appliances belonging to Resistance as well as a great number of soldiers and researchers occupied with their individual tasks.

“When we first came to Voeld,” said Evfra, observing his people at work, “we didn’t bring much resources. It was difficult to operate here, so we thought using these caverns would be a good start. Later we were able to equip everything with necessary facilities and make life here more comfortable. It indeed goes to show how far the ability to use surroundings to your own benefit can bring you.”

“I think you did a really good job surviving here. Can’t imagine how difficult it had been before we activated the vault,” commented Ryder, sincerely amazed by the job that the Resistance did on Voeld.

“It was extremely cold. We couldn’t make ten steps from the heaters unless we had special equipment. But, perhaps, even worse than that was what the planet looked like. Deserted and dead-white. The kett were there somewhere, we knew it, but through blizzards and snowstorms it was impossible to see anything. Lots of soldiers couldn’t handle such desolation for long.”

Evfra looked thoughtful for a few moments. The topic of colonization of Voeld brought back some memories about how it used to be. One look at his scarred face was enough to understand that it was anything but simple.

“The cold here is still unbearable, but… I don’t think it looks that bad. The beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder,” mused Ryder.

“Is that another human saying?” asked Evfra curiously.

“Yes.” They’ve finally reached the exit from the cave. Ryder dreamily stared at the white sky almost melting together with white mountains and slopes. “It means that nothing is really objectively beautiful or hideous, it depends on your perspective. You just need to learn to see good in everything. Even if there isn’t much of it.”

“My dislike for Voeld mostly came from the fact that it was so different from my home. But now it is better. Now that you are here,” said Evfra casually.

Ryder abruptly turned his head, shifting his gaze from the sky to Evfra’s rigid face. He felt that he was blushing under his helmet because of how astonished he was. The words sounded dubious, not like something Evfra would say.

“I mean the human colony,” added Evfra calmly. “We are not alone on this planet anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” nodded Ryder and coughed awkwardly.

Barely noticeable notes of discontent in Ryder’s voice didn’t escape Evfra’s ears. It was strange to hear that, but he tried not to overthink. After all, it was impossible to know what humans had on their mind.

After a moment of puzzlement Ryder went on, “I’m also glad we’re not alone on Voeld. It would be a hell to maintain an outpost on such a secluded planet.”

“Yes, it would.”

They walked the trail to the landing area in silence. Frozen snow was creaking under their feet and dim lights that defined the way flickered through blizzard, hardly noticeable. Guards were on their duty, constantly checking the perimeter for potential intruders. Even though it wasn’t so cold anymore, they tried to keep close to the heaters and stayed mostly in pairs.

Approaching the Tempest, Ryder made the last attempt to heat up the conversation. He hated to leave things the way they were.

“So-o-o, do you want to know a strange fact about humans?” he asked, pretending like it was a perfectly normal thing to ask after not talking for five minutes.

“Why would I want to know that?” Evfra turned around and faced Ryder, baffled by the question.

“Jaal once asked Liam and I thought… It’s okay if you don’t, really.”

“Go ahead then,” said the angara. At the moment he did not really care much about knowing more about humans, but rather wished to hear what Ryder wanted to tell him so eagerly.

“When humans are on the last stages of freezing, they get naked.”

This time Evfra couldn’t keep himself from closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead for a few seconds, feeling weary and jaded. Communication with humans really did make him think harder than usually. His brain just couldn’t handle such pressure every time he tried to analyze what was really going on in their heads. Particularly it applied to Ryder.

“Well, anyway, I’m looking forward to hearing from you,” said the Pathfinder and got aboard the Tempest. Evfra stood outside for some time, thinking, before returning to the Base.

Surprisingly enough, nobody aboard the Tempest was mad at Ryder for not sharing the reason for their come. Kalo tried to complain about the Pathfinder not trusting his team, but it didn’t take long for him to accept the fact that Ryder just didn’t want them to worry about the whole case. They stayed on the orbit of Voeld in order to be able to get back to the planet as soon as possible in case the situation needed them to.

James talked to Vetra and Jaal, convincing them that Evfra really didn’t say anything offensive and really didn’t threaten him. Hardly did they believe him when Ryder said, that the leader of the Resistance just inquired about the whole air aboard his ship. Realizing he would probably not say much else, they left Ryder alone.

The day went on with nothing noteworthy. Drowning in different reports from colonies and the Nexus, Ryder didn’t pay attention to the passing of time and soon found himself the only one staying awake. He was exhausted because of all the anxiety and jitters he had to experience today, so calling it a day didn’t seem to be a bad option. Although it took him some time to fall asleep because of all his spinning and turning in bed, he slept quite calmly and didn’t see any dreams.

He was woken up by SAM early in the morning.

“Pathfinder, you have new emails at your terminal.”

“Are they from Evfra?” asked Ryder, yawning.

“One of them,” answered SAM without getting into details.

James used to the terminal in his quarters to check the emails.

 Some info for the captain

To: Ryder

From: Reyes Vidal

Yesterday I got a task from Evfra (don’t worry, it’s not classified, I wouldn’t write you otherwise). As soon as I heard the details, I immediately knew it had something to do with you, so now you’re reading this.

It happened so, that a friend of mine wanted to take part in a shady venture. I, being a kindly person I am, told him not to. Some of his other friends weren’t as smart as him and didn’t listen to my advice, so they ended up dead in a stolen shuttle near the Resistance Base on Voeld. Do you follow me? I hope so, because it seems like if it hadn’t been for me, more exiles would have attacked the angara pretending to be your people. And we all know where that could lead.

Now I hope you’ll acknowledge my assistance in this matter and pay me back for being this good of a friend and taking care of your image so professionally.

Let me know when you have a free minute to chat.

Reyes

 Ryder blinked a few times. His eyes hurt from starring at the terminal screen right after waking up.

“I think I’m now more confused than I was before if that makes sense,” he said rather to himself than to SAM. “Okay, let’s see what the second one has for us.”

 Update on Urgent Matter

To: Ryder

From: Evfra

I have some intel we were looking for. I recon Reyes is now writing an email to you as well. I couldn’t deny him the pleasure of doing that, but you can never be sure of what he is going to tell and what he isn’t, so I’m writing as promised.  

People who attacked our Base were indeed exiles from the Kadara port. They managed to get in contact with kett who saw a great opportunity to use them and had promised them power and resources in return for undertaking this offense. My assumption is that they wanted to disrupt the alliance between humans and angara by making it look like your people attacked mine. However, I think their commandos didn’t know about this plan. It looks too irresponsible and lacks elaboration.

Someone in Taerve Uni helped exiles get in and steal what they needed. Reyes mentioned one of them having a relative in the colony, so it’s best if you investigated this further.

Angara do not blame you for what happened. Some of them feel for you and send their support.

In case you need me, I’ll be on Aya. I am flying back today.

I am glad there is no reason for us to be at war.

 “Somehow, imagining his face while he writes it makes it sound even better,” mumbled Ryder to himself and closed the email. He was too sleepy to be able to answer it properly right now.

[spacesuitsforemergency]

The Rise Of Iron Maiden

Chapter 4: Failure to Launch

Word Count: 2.9k

Originally Requested by: @amateurwriterbigdreamer

Previous Chapter: We’re in the Endgame Now

Next Chapter: The Return Of Iron Maiden

A/N: this chapters kinda slow, but I gotta fill the plot. Next chapters gonna be pretty Tye heavy (mostly from his POV)

“Wrah!” Nebula stood up, putting her hands in a fighting stance.

“You don't need to do that. Because uh... you're just holding position.” Tony mimicked a football goalpost with his hands as she flicked a paper football towards him. “Oh yeah, that was close.”

“I would like to try again.”

You and Tye watched from the front of the ship, both of you previously watching the stars. Both of you are silent, neither of you wanting to talk. You were still too shaken up from the events of nearly last month. Nebula had attempted to fly you back to Earth, but the Milano broke down and now you were floating in space, hopeless.

“Fair game. Good sport. Have fun?” Your dad asked Nebula.

“It was...fun.” She nodded slowly.

“Tye, Y/N, wanna play?” Tony looked over to the two kids.

“I’m good.” Tye mumbled.

“Hey, come on.” Your dad urged. “It’s fun. Right, Nebula?”

“It is fun.” She nodded, face deadpanned. Tye sighed, but eventually joined them.

“Y/N?” Your dad offered.

“Um...I’m tired, I’m gonna go sleep for a little bit.” You give him a small smile as if to say you were okay, before retreating to the back of the ship towards the bedrooms.

You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You think about everyone at home, and the frustration of not knowing who was still alive. Were Eduardo, Jaime, Peter, Quill, Drax, Mantis and Doctor Strange still alive? Or did they die? Would they ever come back? Could you bring them back?

Usually Eduardo was there to tell you you were overthinking and to calm you down, but he was gone. He turned to dust in your hands, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You hated it when you couldn’t control something, much like your father. If you couldn’t protect the ones you loved, you felt useless. You felt guilty, believing it was your fault that Eduardo, Jaime and Peter were gone. You were even guilty about the Guardians of the Galaxy, even though you barely knew them.

You looked over at your pile of armor on the floor. You dragged yourself out of bed, sitting against it. You clicked a button on your helmet, and waited for it to light up.

“This thing on?” You ask nobody in particular, then let it scan you. “Alright. Hey mom. Uh...sorry for not listening to dad. Again. I should be down on Earth, I’m sorry I’m worrying you. Dad makes you do that enough already.” You chuckle softly. “Um...it’s day 22, just floating in space. The blue meanie tried to fly us back. You’d like her, she’s very practical. It’s only her, me, dad, and Tye left. He doesn’t talk much-well, not that he did before. He’s pretty broken over Jaime. Peters gone too, poor kid. Aunt Mays gonna kill him. Um...I lost Eduardo. He just...turned into dust. I couldn’t do anything about it...I really miss him, mom. I won’t miss him much longer though, in fact, I might see him in the next...48 hours of oxygen. It won’t last long with four people on here though. I didn’t think I’d die like this, it’s so pathetic.” You scoff and shake your head. “I thought I’d die saving people. I want to die saving people, that’s how I’ve always wanted to go but...nope. I’m gonna die because this piece of junk broke down in the middle of the universe. So uh...I’m gonna go play some paper football with the two grumps and dad. I’m really sorry, mom. All you do is put up with our shit, and tell us when to stop. I should’ve listened this time.” You go to turn it off, quickly saying, “I love you.”

You fall back against the bed, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. The low oxygen levels are already effecting you, which meant your dad and friend were both feeling them too. You wanted to go join them, but you couldn’t move your whole body enough to do so. You lied there, staring at your Iron Maiden suit. The suit you used to save people, but you couldn’t even save yourself. You failed Eduardo. Jaime. Peter. Quill. Drax. Mantis. Doctor Strange. And who knows who else.

You feel yourself being lifted off the ground, and you look up to see Nebula. She was mostly machine, so the lack of oxygen wasn’t effecting her as bad as you. She carried you over to a couch that she had dragged into the control room, facing the window. Your dad was sitting in the middle, Tye beside him. Nebula sat you on his other side, then left.

Tony gathered enough strength to lift his arms, resting them around the two kids’ shoulders and pulling them closer to him. He wanted to comfort them, but he couldn’t speak. You all stared out at the stars, awaiting your deaths.

•

A bright light pierced your brain, making you cringe as you wake up. You open your eyes and blink until they adjust. You see a woman outside of the ship, looking in. You weakly shake your dads leg, trying to alert him. His hand rests atop of yours to tell you he’s okay, as he slowly sits up a little.

“Who’s that?” Tye mumbles, half asleep.

“Not sure, kid.” Tony replied. You pass out again, not able to hold consciousness. You wake up again when someone shakes you awake, opening your eyes to see your dads best friend, Rhodey.

“Y/N? Hey, think you can stand?” He asked softly. You nod, and he helps you to your feet you lean on him as he walks you down the ramp to outside.

“Is mom...?” You breathe out, still blinking away black spots in your vision.

“Y/N! Tony!” You hear her yell from somewhere, before Rhodey can even open his mouth. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Your mom practically crashed into you, holding you tightly to her. You fall into her, not having the strength to stand any longer. Your dad walks by himself over to his two girls, hugging them tightly. Back in space, he truly thought those would be his last moment, so he was eternally grateful that he got to live long enough to hold them both again.

Tye watched the scene from where Natasha was helping him stand, feeling alone. His mother was in a different dimension than him, and Tye felt like she probably didn’t even miss him.

“Nat?” He breathed out.

“What’s up?” She asked, looking down at the exhausted boy.

“You have food that isn’t freeze dried and in a silver bag, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, come on.” She chuckled, helping him walk towards the Compound.

“Don’t you two ever do that again.” Pepper began to cry.

“No promises.” Tony kissed each of his girls on top of the head, as Steve approached you guys. “Couldn’t stop him, Cap.”

“Neither could I.” Steve nodded.

“I lost the kids. Peter. Jaime. Eduardo.” Tony shook his head, guilt washing over him once again.

“Tony, we all lost.”

You’re brought into the compound, each immediately given an IV and some food. You and Tye eat like animals, not having any rations for the past couple of days. You watch a holographic screen listing the heroes that disappeared in the Decimation; Wanda Maximoff, Nick Fury, Jaime Reyes, Bucky Barnes, Peter Quill, Scott Lang, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, T’Challa, Eduardo Dorado Jr...

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey announced.

“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.” Natasha paced slowly in front of the holographs.

“Where is he?” You ask timidly, still nervous about him.

“We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through.” Bruce Banner said slowly, trying to not scare the kids even more than they already were.

“What's wrong with him?” Tony asked, motioning to Thor, who was staring into space.

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?” A talking raccoon spoke up from behind you.

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Your dad pointed at him.

“You’re with him, kid? Really?” The raccoon looked at Tye.

“You know a talking raccoon?” You asked Tye, staring at the raccoon.

“He’s not a-.”

“I’m not a raccoon!” It snapped at you. “Why do you humies keep saying that?”

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, Y/N, Tye, you fought him.” Steve interrupted.

“Who told you that? I didn't fight him.” Tony scoffed. “No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the store. Nearly killed my daughter, and Tye. One hit away from it, in fact. That's what happened. There was no fight.”

“Okay.”

“He was unbeatable.” Tye shook his head, and you agreed.

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?” Captain America asked.

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.” Tony said.

“Dad, calm down.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.”

“And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Your dad stood up, slapping things off a table. Everyone winced from the sudden noise. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-“

Tony lunges at Steve, but Rhodey stepped between them and held your dad back.

“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not-that's what we needed!” Tony yelled at Steve.

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve kept his composure, only angering your father even more.

“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”

“Dad! Stop!” You shout at him, your head spinning.

“You know what, honey? The adults are talking, alright?” Your dad said, with a little more venom than he intended.

“Mr. Stark you made your point just-“ Tye started.

“Nah, nah. Here's my point. You know what?” Tony turned back to glare at Captain America.

“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey insisted, trying to get him to sit back down.

“I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” Tony slowly walked up to Steve, getting right in his face. You all tensed when Tony ripped his arc reactor out of his chest, smacking it into Steve’s hand. “Here, take this. You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

“Dad!” You shout when he suddenly falls to the ground.

“Tony!” Steve reached down to help his old friend up.

“I’m fine. I...” Your dad trails off, falling unconsciously to the floor. You try to get up, but Natasha pushes you back down by your shoulders.

“Get him to a room. Call Pepper.” Natasha ordered the men, before turning back to you two. “He’ll be fine, Y/N. Just needs to rest. So do you.”

“Not tired.” You shook your head stubbornly.

“Nebula, Rocket, think you can handle watching them for a moment?” She asked the two aliens, sitting on the wall behind you.

“Yes.” Nebula nodded.

“Sure.” The raccoon, or, Rocket shrugged.

Natasha gave you a reassuring smile before turning to help the other bring your father to a room.

“Sorry about your friend, kid.” Rocket hopped down and rounded the couch you and Tye were on to face him.

“Yeah. Sorry about the others.” Tye nodded, expression not changing at all. Your eyes drifted back to the screen, watching more and more names and pictures appear onscreen.

“Where are you going?” You hear Natasha ask someone.

“To kill Thanos.” The lady that flew you home stated simply as they emerged from the hallway.

“Hey, you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile.” Nat mumbled.

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too.” Steve nodded.

“You even know where he is?” Rhodey joined them.

“I know people who might.” The lady said, blank faced.

“Don't bother. I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden." Nebula stood up, walking over to them.

“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan.” Rhodey joked, earning small smiles from you and Tye. He smiled back, glad to bring the two kids joy, even for a moment.

“So where is he?” Steve asked, and the adults walked over to a round table. You and Tye joined them, regaining enough strength to stand. You still leaned on Rhodey, which he happily let you do.

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions. No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago.” Rocket showed a hologram of a planet, with a shockwave visibly traversing the surface. “On this planet.”

“Thanos is there.” Nebula added.

“He used the Stones again.” Natasha muttered.

“Hey, hey, hey. We'd be going in short-handed, you know.” Bruce piped up.

“Look, he's still got the stones, so...” Rhodey said.

“So let's get him... Use them to bring everyone back.” The lady told you.

“Just like that?” Tye raises an eyebrow in disapproval.

“Just like like.” Steve nodded.

“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this... I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.” Natasha tried to convince everyone. You looked down, feeling the guilt from letting your friends die in the pit of your stomach.

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asked.

“Because before, you didn't have me.” The lady crossed her arms.

“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life. And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?” Rhodey put a hand on his hip, making sure to balance so you wouldn’t fall.

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.” The lady narrowed her eyes at Rhodey.

Thor walked out of the shadows, towards the lady. They stand in front of each other as if challenging the other. Thor holds out his hand, and Stormbreaker flies into his hand. Then they both grin at each other.

“I like this one.” Thor said.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch.” You growl.

“Like hell you’re going!” Natasha laughed.

“No way, kids.” Steve shook his head. “Adults only on this one.”

“Would you quit treating us like children?” You glare at them.

“We probably got more punches in on Thanos than all of you combined.” Tye said venomously.

“First of all, not possible.” Natasha said. “Second of all, you are not coming. Tony and Pepper would go into cardiac arrest if you came along.”

You and Tye exchange looks, looking to the floor in compliance.

“Look, we know you’re hurting. But going at him all malnourished and seeking revenge is not the way to do it.” Rhodey told you guys.

“You’ll stay here with Tony and Pepper, okay?” Natasha asked. “Rest. Let us take care of this.”

“...okay.” You sigh.

“Thank you.” She pulled both of you into a hug. You melted into it, Tye tensed up.

You hugged each of the remaining Avengers, even Thor let you hug him, though he didn’t hug back. You and Tye stood and watched at they boarded the now fixed Milano, then watched them take off. You stood there for a little bit after, staring at the dark sky.

“Tye?” You whisper after a long stretch of silence.

“Yeah?”

“You think they can do it?” You ask

Tye hesitates. You’re scared, he’s scared, and both of you just want even a glimpse of hope. He debates what to tell you, what he truly thought or what he knew you wanted to hear.

“...no.”

You nod slowly, agreeing with him. A single tear falls down your face, dropping onto the paved pathway.

“I miss them, too.” Tye took a shaky breath, fighting his own tear ducts. He never cried, let alone in front of anyone.

“I’m sorry you lost Jaime.” You turn to him. “I know how much he meant to you. Eduardo too.”

“I’m sorry you lost Peter. You guys are as close as Jaime and I are. And I’m sorry you lost Eduardo, too.” Tye quickly blinked away tears.

“Can you believe they’re all gone?” You ask.

“No.” He shook his head. “I wish it could just be a month ago. When we were on that one mission.”

“The one where Jaime and Peter accidentally broke into Scott Lang’s house?” You giggle.

“How do you accidentally break in?” Tye laughed, shaking his head. “They’re truly idiots.”

“But they’re our idiots.” You nod, smiling sadly at the sky.

[strange-n-unbluusual]

Pink! Ch. 4: The Late Date

*Beetlejuice/Original Female Character. Adult situations. 18+ only.*

Summary: After six breather years away, Beetlejuice returns to find the house on the hill overrun by coeds. Lydia allows him to stay, but has rules. Things get more interesting when Beck, one of the housemates, reveals she can see him. Following a sordid affair, Beetlejuice finds himself lingering around Beck more and more. But will her affection last? And why does it seem to bother Lydia so much?

Chapter 1: The Setup

Chapter 2: The Buzzkill Date

Chapter 3: The Ex Lover

This one is a doozy! 18+ only!!

DMs are always open for thoughts, feedback and suggestions. Ty. On AO3 as CopperContessa_13

They weren’t kidding around when they named the place Winter River.

By late November, it was uncommon for the town to go more than a day without being graced by at least another inch of snow. Constantly clearing her car was annoying, but Beck enjoyed the white stuff otherwise.

She smiled when she saw a bright light peeking through her curtains one morning. When she opened her curtains, she saw the sun was reflecting off a fresh layer of snow that had fallen during the night. About six inches lay untouched on the roof outside her window, the rays making it shine like glitter. Some fluffy flakes still floated lazily down from the sky.

Just beyond the roof, she could see the people moving around in the town. The snow there wasn’t quite as untouched as her immediate view, but the scene was still so picturesque.

The plow trucks had already come, easily moving the puffy snow off the roadway. Most driveways were cleared, too, but tire tracks tattled on who’d woken up too late to shovel before work. Focusing on one street in particular, she noticed a man started to clear his neighbor’s driveway after finishing his own.

Children, no doubt on break from school, were already preparing barricades for snowball fights and running down the streets with sleds in hand. During Winter River's first snow this year, Beck asked Lydia if any kids ever came to sled at the house’s hill. Lydia said she’d let them if they tried, but that they hardly got visitors these days.

Something about a bad experience with a Girl Scout and a census taker? Whatever.

Inspired by the scene, Beck dragged her art desk in front of the window. Warmness tickled her feet as she walked past an air vent. Settling in her chair, she turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook and grabbed a piece of charcoal.

It had taken a couple of days for tensions to ease, but they did. Beck and Lydia maintained their distance, but it was more out of respect than compulsion. Lydia had noticeably stayed over at her girlfriend’s house more since the big fight. When Mariah was over, though, they were considerate and quiet. That didn’t go unnoticed by Beck who, consequently, decided it was in poor taste to pointedly use Lydia’s towels to clean up after she and Beetlejuice finished screwing around.

Having the house to herself really did help Beck cleanse any petty energy that remained in her brain. Nice mornings like this, especially, made her worries feel small.

Being alone on Thanksgiving break wasn’t sad or stressful for her. With school in Connecticut and home in New Mexico, she realized early on that a trip home for such a short break just wasn’t worth it. Plus, it wasn’t like she felt alone.

Her parents kept tabs on her through text messages. She had lengthy streaks with both of her sisters on Snapchat. The ghosts were still around, too. Adam and Barbara, whose presence around the place was a bit more common now, would sometimes make idle conversation. And, of course, there was also Beetlejuice who was… a lot.

As if his snarky observations weren’t grating enough when she pretended to not hear them…

Beck didn’t know someone could be so endearing and insufferable at the same time. She’d learned to finish her work at the campus library because, geezus, Beetlejuice was an unstoppable force at home. It didn’t matter if it was noon or midnight, he was always at the door when she got home. She always found the act endearing until he opened his mouth. From the moment she came in through the door, he'd follow her around like a very talkative shadow. Beetlejuice had a surprising amount to say about his day, considering he never left the house.

Books she read, movies she watched, websites she browsed. You name it. Beetlejuice had a very staunch opinion on all of it. Don't even get him started on what he thought of her housemates. Kendra will never be “punk,” Ash’s poetry is shit, Cici’s weird nipples make her boobs look like googly eyes and Lillian is a shallow bitch. Beck had heard it all.

He never had anything bad to say about Lydia, of course.

After his conscious stream of thought ruined the emotional climax of a series she’d been binging, Beck decided she’d had enough. She was about to tell him off when a thought finally occurred to her: he only talks so much because it's been so long since he’s been heard.

It was a cathartic moment.

It was also cathartic when she learned he got really quiet after blowing a load or two.

They had yet to bang outright. He told her that they couldn't. Something about Netherworld bureaucracy barring him from having sex with a mortal without being summoned. Wary of unleashing a demon for the sake of a 30 second bone sesh (give or take, she imagined), Beck decided she was fine with just hand and tongue stuff.

Speaking of bedroom calisthenics, it was weird he wasn’t curled up next to her that morning.

Beck looked up from her drawing pad to glimpse at the town again, but was distracted by something new on the roof.

She adjusted her posture just enough to make out the beady eyes of a snowman sitting outside her window. The snow used to make it was dirty looking, brown and grey. Its eyes and mouth were made up of tiny pebbles. A black and white striped scarf hung loosely from its neck. A gust of wind blew the knit fabric against the (several?) flimsy twigs being used for arms.

“Hey, sugar tits! Coffee’s on!” Beetlejuice announced while kicking the door to her room open.

Beck flinched, causing the charcoal she was holding to make a thick line on the paper. She frowned at the mistake, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She could probably pass it off as a tree branch or something. Oh well.

Turning to face him, she was relieved to see him holding two mugs. Caffeine was just what she needed.

“You don’t have anything to do with that cute snowman on the roof, do you, Lawrence?” she asked while grabbing a cup.

“Cute? He’s not cute,” Beetlejuice scoffed. “Look at him peeping into your room! That dirty pervert.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let that slide.”

He grinned and pulled her to his side with his free arm. She tried her best to ignore the gesture, opting to clutch her hot mug with both hands instead of embracing him back. Messing around was one thing, but she still wasn’t sure what to do when he made affectionate little gestures like these.

Still, there were worse ways to start a morning.

Beck took a sip of the coffee. Her face twisted into disgust.

“Something wrong, babes?”

“W-what did you use to make this?”

“Dirt and water,” He said taking a gulp of the stuff. “Why do you think the snowman is so dirty? I spent the morning digging through the garden to make this.”

Trying to contain her repulsion, Beck calmly walked over to her dresser and set the mug down.

“What? Is this not how you’re supposed to do it?” he asked. “Lydia said it was made with plants.”

“Yeah! A coffee plant. Which is definitely not topsoil.”

“Well I got it from the garden, didn’t I?!”

Beck took a deep breath.

“You are… something,” she said.

“I don’t get your deal. It tastes the same to me,” he shrugged.

“Stop drinking that!”

Beetlejuice stared her down as he chugged the rest. He patted his tummy and made a satisfied “ah” noise. Beck rolled her eyes but cracked a smile.

Jokes on him, she thought. She wouldn’t touch him again until he used some mouthwash.

You can’t have a weak stomach when you’re with someone like him, Beck had learned. If it wasn’t clear from the moss on his face and the dust that wafted off of him when he moved, they guy had an affinity for filth. What was more frustrating than the dirty clothes and greasy hair, though, was that she knew he could do something about it with a wave of his hand. Fucker didn’t even need to shower! He just liked being that way!

Beck liked her men dirty, though.

“I was just trying to do something nice for you,” he grumbled.

“Hon, I know, but it’s gross” Beck laughed.

She slightly regretted using the pet name when she saw him visibly perk up at its use.

“Let me get changed and I’ll make a real breakfast,” she quickly added.

“Are you gonna make pancakes?!” he gasped, lighting up further.

“If you want, I guess.”

“Fuck yeah!”

⁂

Later in the day, they’d decided to turn on a movie. One of Beetlejuice’s favorites— The Exorcist. He was so enamored with the screen he didn’t even see her slip away. He was re-alerted of her presence at the sound of heels clicking on the kitchen’s wood floor. He whipped his head around, desperate to get a view of her from the living room.

Beck was wearing tall brown boots and very tight jeans. The straps of a lacey bralette peeked out tastefully from under a knit sweater. A bit of jewelry and makeup accentuated her features. Her hair fell in big, loose waves just above her shoulders. Her coat and purse were held under one arm.

Beetlejuice wolf whistled, grabbing her attention.

“You look like a million bucks, Beck!” Beetlejuice said, walking over and slapping her ass.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “I actually wanted to wear this cute bandeau and jacket I picked up the other day, but I’ll save that for when it gets warmer. Hoes don’t get cold, but they do get pneumonia.”

“Why are you worried about getting sick? I thought you were staying in today.”

“No. I actually need to head out soon.”

“Why? Grocery store closing?”

“No, Lawrence,” Beck giggled. “I’m going to the pub downtown. This guy from my sculpting class struck up a conversation with me about craft beer. Apparently he knows the woman who owns the place. We’re gonna try some of their new pours together.”

Beetlejuice was quiet for a moment before he finally responded with a breathy laugh.

“If I didn’t know you any better, Bexley, I’d say it sounds like you’re going on a date.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Yeah I am. My first since Lydia.”

“Well, you can’t go then!” he snapped.

She looked up at him in surprise.

“And why the fuck not?” Beck spat back.

“Because you and I are already together.”

Oh boy.

Beck’s mouth gaped open for a second, not exactly sure what to say.

“No, we’re not,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry I never laid it out, but what we have is strictly casual.”

“It’s not casual, babes,” he insisted.

Beetlejuice’s words were calm, but she didn’t miss the bits of red that were starting to fleck his green hair.

“We can talk about this later,” Beck said dismissively. “I need to go.”

Beetlejuice pinned her against the wall, holding her firmly in place by clutching her forearms above her head. Her shoes felt like they were glued to the ground— likely his powers holding her. She struggled against him, but quickly realized it was useless.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“No, baby, never,” Beetlejuice cooed into her ear. “I’m just going to prove a point.”

“What point?”

“That your fucking little breather flings can’t hold a candle to how good I make you feel.”

Beck didn’t get a chance to respond before he hoisted her from the wall and laid her on the nearby countertop. He quickly undid her jeans but looked at her for approval before pulling them down. She hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

“Prove your point, big shot. Make it fast.”

Beck knew she was being greedy and inconsiderate for pulling a stunt like this so close to her date, but she couldn't help herself. She'd become addicted to his constant attention.

She tensed at the coldness of his tongue, but it quickly warmed inside her. It always did. One of Beetlejuice’s hands grasped her thigh while the thumb of the other worked her clit. Her hips spasmed at infrequent intervals at the pleasureful sensation.

She loved the way his tongue pulsed inside her at a steady rhythm. At first she was turned off by how inhuman in looked— wormlike and darker than a human one. The way it could stretch and move her, though, was incomparable to anything else she'd experienced. He was already driving her wild, his movements simple but skilled.

He wasn’t allowed to know that, of course.

Beetlejuice looked up at Beck. She was supported on her elbows, giving her enough height to look back down at him blankly. He knew she was trying her best to be unenthused, but her act wasn’t convincing. Aside from her electrified hips, he could read the lust in her eyes and hear the lilt of an occasional whine leave her mouth.

Not good enough.

Craving a more intense reaction, he slid out to tease her ass for a second. When she opened her mouth to gasp, he quickly rammed the tongue back into its familiar sheath. Beck’s hips bucked into his mouth and she let out long, pleasurable cry.

Beetlejuice smirked, raising an eyebrow at her from his spot below.

“Don’t get cocky,” she groaned.

Repositioning, he placed a hand on either of her thighs and spread her legs further apart. He took a second to appreciate how beautiful and vulnerable she was in this position before diving in headfirst again. She panted, weaving a needy hand in his hair. She'd move him gently, desperate to chase her orgasm with his help. She loved it when he maneuvered so that his appendage could both rub her little pleasure button and fill her insides.

She closed her eyes, imagining it was his cock filling her instead.

After manipulating her with his mouth for a while, Beetlejuice withdrew. Beck, who’d mostly shucked off her pants by that point, wrapped a desperate leg around the back of his head. She tried to push him back into place.

“I’m so fucking close,” she pleaded, “Please don’t stop.”

Everything in him wanted to oblige her.

Beetlejuice was obsessed. He craved to feel her fall apart in his hands. After so many rendezvous like this, it started to felt like his purpose in unlife was to worship her body. It felt like sin to not to give in to her wants.

But he had a point to make…

Beetlejuice kissed her left thigh, the wetness from around his mouth transfering partially onto her with it.

“You can cum when you tell me that no breather will ever satisfy you again.”

“That no wha-? Oh!”

She threw her head back and arched towards him as he slowly slid a thick finger in. The speed was disappointing and teasingly slow. Sitting upright now, Beck tried to stimulate herself further but was unable. Her hips felt like they were being held in place, making it impossible to ramp up the speed by rocking back and forth. Her hands, similarly, felt stuck to the counter. It kept her from playing with her clit.

Beck tried to contain her frustration but failed miserably. Finger still moving painstakingly slow, Beetlejuice watched her thin veneer of calm fall apart. A deep, grounding sigh from her lips slowly became a vexed protest. He laughed openly at her struggle and pressed his forehead against hers. The proximity gave them both a rush.

“Say ‘you’ve spoiled my body too much’ and maybe I’ll let you cum,” he said.

“I’ve had better!” Beck spat back.

He bit her neck in response. Pleased at the scream he elicited from her, he kissed the mark it made.

“Don’t do that! I don’t want Nathan to see it.”

"Fuck Nathan!"

Beetlejuice was about to bite harder when he got distracted by a buzzing noise. They both got quiet. Looking around, he realized it was coming from her jacket on the floor. It, along with her purse, were knocked out of her hands when he pushed her against the wall.

She grumbled when his hand and face left her body. Beetlejuice leaned down and fished the buzzing thing— her cellphone— out of her jacket. He looked at the glowing screen, an evil grin spreading on his face when he saw who was calling her.

“Pick it up. Now,” he demanded as he tossed it to her.

He dismissed the restraint from one of her hands, allowing her to catch. She swallowed nervously before answering.

“H-hi Nathan."

Beetlejuice resumed his position on her neck and teased her entrance with his fingers. As he placed his other hand on the small of her back, Beck realized with horror what he was about to do.

She bit her lip to suppress a moan as two of his thick fingers slammed into her repeatedly. It made her crazy, feeling the hilt of his hand ram against her pelvis. Beck tried to close her thighs to buffer the movement, but his powers still kept her position locked. He nibbled and sucked her neck, careful not to bite too hard this time. She liked it when he paid attention to the spot on her collar bone, too, he'd learned.

Her body trembled at the sensations. A tremor was in her voice, too.

“I’m not standing you up, I promise,” she laughed nervously into the phone. “I, uh, I’m stuck at my house. My car won’t start. Sometimes that happens when it gets too cold.”

Beck let out a yelp as Beetlejuice put a third digit into her.

“No! I’m fine. My back just hurts from hunching over my desk all day. W-what was that? Oh! Uh, yeah that’d be awesome. You're the best. I’ll see you in five.”

She hung up the phone, immediately tossing it aside in order to manipulate her clit. Beetlejuice laughed against her skin.

“Not so cool now are you, Bexley.”

“Shut up and finger fuck me like you mean it.”

That was all the prodding he needed.

Her sweater bunched up as the hand on her back clenched into a fist. Beetlejuice started kissing her on the mouth. Beck kissed back, fiery need consuming them both. When he untethered her other hand, he was surprised to feel her tugging his pants down. He moaned into her mouth at the way she stroked him.

Beck's concentration on him wavered. She broke their kiss and stopped manipulating his cock, too focused on getting herself off before she had to leave.

A long and drawn out scream soon crescendoed from Beck’s mouth. It was so unabashed it almost made Beetlejuice blush. He loved it when she didn't care who heard her cumming. I made him feel powerful. The Maitlands were probably somewhere out of sight and clutching their pearls over it. He certainly didn't give a fuck, though.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s right. Ride it out,” he whispered.

Combined with the feeling of her hand on his cock, the sensation of her body clenching around his fingers was almost too much. Beetlejuice was close to climax, too.

Regaining control of herself, Beck's hand started working him again. Beetlejuice grunted and came all over the base of the countertop.

They just stared at each other after coming down from their respective highs. The silence spoke volumes.

In a moment of tenderness, Beetlejuice tried to kiss Beck, but she turned her head.

Wordlessly, she readjusted her clothing. He watched bemused as she maneuvered her hair to fall over the purple and red mark he’d left on her skin. Hearing a car horn honk outside, she picked up her things and headed for the door.

Beck dared to glance back at him one last time.

Beetlejuice smirked back, mouthing the word “spoiled."

She slammed the door behind her.

⁂

The date was a bust. Nathan didn’t even go in for a kiss when he dropped her off.

It's not like she had anyone else to blame but herself, though.

Beck was distant the whole time, her mind more interested in replaying what had just happened rather than listen to her date talk. When she did pay Nathan mind, it wasn't for long. She was self-conscious about hiding the hickey on her neck. She was too distracted to give meaningful answers to the questions he asked. She was too overwhelmed with the worry that he could smell Beetlejuice on her. It wasn't long before he gave up on coaxing conversation out of her.

“Whelp. See you in class Tuesday,” he sighed when he dropped her off.

"Thank you. I'm sorry," was all she could manage to say back.

She really did feel sorry. She really did like him.

Beck was surprised that Beetlejuice wasn’t waiting for her in the foyer. She thought for sure he would been itching to gloat about how he was right. About how that dumb breather didn’t have a chance with her and all that.

He wasn’t waiting in her room when she got up there, either.

This was so unlike him, Beck thought. Where the hell could he be?

The ceiling above her room creaked.

“That bastard,” she muttered.

The message was clear: not only did he demand that she grovel, he demanded she actually go up to the attic to do it.

Resolved that she wouldn’t play his game, Beck started to get ready for bed and kicked off her shoes. Tossing her keys onto her dresser, she noticed the coffee cup that had been left there earlier. The art desk was still by the window, too, along with the drawing she’d been working on.

Picking up the sketch pad, she noticed the thick black line from before was gone. The picture, otherwise, was the same aside from the addition of two crudely drawn figures. A man and a woman peered out at the rest of the town from a window in the top part in one of the houses. The detail was hard to make out, but she could tell they were holding teeny tiny coffee cups.

Beck smiled despite herself.

[letsblogwithlandy-blog]

The Chinatown Experience

Whether you’re looking for a new place to visit for the sights, the food, the history, or the cultural exposure, Chicago’s very own Chinatown might be the place for you. Who would have thought that one of the most authentic, if not THE most authentic Chinatown in America was just a train ride away from where I live? As a resident of Back of the Yards, I have always made it a mission to explore my city and find new places to hang out at. I’ve been to Chinatown a number of times already prior to it being part of an assignment; however, this time, my eyes were widened to things I never even considered before.

My classmate Maria and I arrived at Chinatown via red line “L” train. This is the most optimal choice of transportation, in our opinion. Even if you have a car, you would be required to either find parking (which is somewhat likely if you are a fast and responsible driver) or pay for hourly parking. Get yourself a Ventra card. And if you’re a student, just use your university U-Pass. You’ll thank us later.

Upon exiting the Chinatown red line stop, we came across the Nine Dragon Wall, located on W. 22nd Street/Cermak Rd. The beautiful contrast of the dragons and the sunlight gave the wall an aesthetic that stumped us. I had never noticed this wall before. While we were in awe, we did wonder one thing: why are the dragons in an assortment of color?

(picture of wall here)

The dragons appeared to be in gold, blue, and red, and the reason for this is because of color significance according to Chinese culture. English teacher and Beijing instructor Campbell Alizzi describes the colors in detail, signaling that there is more than meets the eye. The Nine Dragon Wall had hints of red, blue, and gold. Red is a color of good fortune, blue is the color of immortality, and gold is the color for victory and prestige (Alizzi, 2019). Maria and I realized that these dragons are meant to set a strong first impression and presence to visitors. These dragons and this gate signify the strength, honor, and glory that is Chinese culture and welcome visitors with what is equivalent to a firm handshake.

(picture of gate)

Not far from the gate was the enormous, hard to miss Chinatown Gate, located on S. Wentworth and 22nd Street/Cermak Rd. The Chinatown Gate represents the official entrance to Chinatown. Architect Peter Fung developed this gate in 1975, making it a hallmark of Chinatown. Going beyond this gate is where all the fun begins.

In Chinatown, you gotta have a good eye for detail if you want to get the most out of the area. One such place where this skill was necessary was the Pui Tak Center on 2216 South Wentworth Avenue. The exterior of the building showed resilient attention to detail, especially when it came to the brick Chinese symbols which also come in a variety of colors.

(picture of census sign)

The building, along with the Chinatown Gate, has a dominant presence in Chinatown not just architecturally but also socially. According to the Pui Tak Center website, construction of the actual building itself went from 1926 to 1928, but the establishment of the building as the Pui Tak Center was on December 1st of 1993 (“Pui Tak Center: Our History and Mission”).

(picture of entrance to center)

Programs that Pui Tak offers involve English as  a second language (ESL) classes and Food Sanitation Certification. Immigrant youth programs are also offered though the center, as their goal is to assist youth to transition into school and overall life a lot easier. One of the aspects of this center that stuck most to me was their programs for immigrants. The staff identify that immigrants of any place are at times unfamiliar with the way lifestyle is in Chicago. This city is fast paced and at times overwhelming, especially for newcomers. The center holds workshops that prepare immigrant families for everything from doing taxes to setting up immunization appointments. As the building hoisted a banner for the 2020 United States Census, the words “Everyone Counts” coincidentally stuck out the most. This center embodies that.

Our next stop was the Chinese American Museum of Chicago on 238 W. 23rd street. They have a ring-the-doorbell-for-entrance policy, so you mustn’t be shy to ring the bell! Otherwise, no experience. Right off the bat, the greeter who let us in was so enthusiastic! It’s as if she already knew what we were doing there. She allowed us to take photos of the interesting exhibits they had available for visitors.

(picture of museum outside)

Maria and I later asked the greeter if we could have access to viewing the 16 minute video on the history of Chinatown, to which she ecstatically said yes and led us to the second floor for viewing. The video had about 5-6 parts (cannot recall) that were each dedicated to a portion of what made up Chinatown and its rich cultural preservation. My favorite part of the video had to be the part about natural medicine and herbalism.

(picture of medicine)

I’ve always been a fanatic of tea and have been fascinated by alternative medicine, and to see that as part of a video for people visiting the museum is excellent. My appreciation for alternative medicine increased after finishing this video. There were moments we were startled though…like when the spotlight was on the robes.

(picture of robes)

I legit jumped in my seat because I felt they were gonna pop out. It was realistic and an experience to remember indeed.

 Answer this, reader: have you ever been to an area, claim to know what that area is all about, but then you realize you actually don’t? Yeah, that was me our next stop, Chinatown Square. Located on 2100 S Archer Avenue, this is where most of Chinatown’s buzz comes from. The highlight of this walk was visiting the zodiac stone figures in the middle of Chinatown Square. I was born in 1997, so I was looking for the ox. However, here it’s titled Bull instead of Ox, so maybe it has something to do with traditional Chinese zodiac.

(picture of me with ox)

This area also has a plethora of restaurants and souvenir shops for visitors to explore and experience! Maria and I entered a shop and just observed the knickknacks that were available for purchase.

(pictures of inside store)

NOTE: always ask the store clerk if it is okay to take pictures; that’s just out of respect for the person.

The New Chinatown Library, located 2100 S. Wentworth Avenue (just across the street of Chinatown Square) was a library like none I have seen. This library was composed of two floors, wherein the first floor seemed like more of an organization-meeting oriented area and the second floor was where your typical library quirks (books, bookshelves, desks) were.

(picture of first floor library)

There was a large conference room on the first floor; conveniently, we saw that there was a meeting taking place there..possibly a neighborhood organization. We got a chance to see a room like that in usage.

The second floor of the library, unlike any other library I’ve been to, had a large mural that stretched a long distance.

(picture of mural)

I’ve never seen such a sight, especially in a library.  It reminded me of the artwork by Takashi Murakami. The cosmic and chaotic color combination, along with the surreal, cartoonish animation added a contemporary spice to the library. Very nice addition.

Another interesting discovery we made while in Chinatown was a market right next to the library. The Park To Shop Supermarket was a marketplace that is unlike the ones in my neighborhood.

(picture of market outside)

Upon entry, the space was pretty limited. The marketplace was very tight. I had a duffel bag that day, so you can imagine how scared I was to bump into stuff. I noticed that there were a lot of elderly people there too. It warmed my heart to have been greeted by the people there.

(picture of inside market)

Another difference this marketplace had that mine do not is the display of produce outside of the shop. My stores don’t do this, not sure why, but here they had fruits and bagged goods prepared for people to grab and pay for upon entry. That’s a lot of trust on part of the owners.

All-in-all, Chinatown earned its title of authenticity through the extensive work of its locals and the love for wanting to keep things as culturally in-tact as possible. According to a Chicago Tribune article, in 2013, the Chicago Metropolitan Agency for Planning was launched to preserve the identity of Chinatown by improving upon public education, elderly care programs, transportation infrastructure, and creating more public parks (Eltagouri, 2016). It’s moves like these that help further the preservation of not just the culture, but the experience that fellow Chinese and Chicagoans can have.

If you haven’t already visited Chinatown, we highly recommend it. Just like many of the other great sights and places in Chicago, they might just be a train ride away.

Work Cited

Alizzi, Campbell. “Learn Chinese: Chinese Colors and Meanings.” Chinese Language School. Taiwan, China. 27 February 2019.

Eltagouri, Marwa. “Here’s why Chicago’s Chinatown is booming, even as others across the U.S. fade.” Chicago Tribune. Chicago, IL. 13 May 2016.

Pui Tak Center. “Our Mission and Out Goal.” www.puitak.org. 13 February 2020.

[youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat]

CSJJ Day 21: “The Best Things Happen While You Dance”

CSJJ Day 21: “The Best Things Happen While You Dance” (1/1)

(AO3)

Rating: E (for unsanitary kitchen activity, which I imagine is typical for these two.)

Words: 3,577

Emma likes to dance. Killian likes that Emma likes to dance. Though it can get distracting when he’s only home because he forgot his phone and he’s trying to get back to his shift at the station and there’s NO TIME to be seduced by his wife, bloody hell, woman...

A/N: I guess all I want to write is Killian’s opinions on popular culture?? Also, ha ha I meant for this to be something fun and domestic about Killian being perplexed by modern music/dancing and then smut happened, whoops.

@csjanuaryjoy, @lenfaz

His wife liked to dance.

Killian discovered this gradually even before their courtship began.

While in her vehicle, on that awkward journey back from New York, he’d caught her mouthing along silently to something on the radio, her finger tapping along with the oddly prominent percussion on the steering wheel. Upon the sea where the misty moon is playing havoc with the tide...

During late nights at the station, pouring over town census records, he’d watch her stand up and stretch only to relax into a sway, a faint pulse to her movement matching the mellow rhythm of the music emanating from her computer. She’d tap a key to increase the volume so she could hum along. I could never see tomorrow...I was never told about the sorrow…

Truthfully, Killian was too over-stimulated from watching the stretch to process the dancing at the time. But later he’d been quietly thrilled that she felt comfortable enough to let her guard down in his presence, that she trusted him enough to let him see her be carefree, to see her be silly.

But he didn’t realize how musically inclined Emma really was until they began living under the same roof.

Everything seemed to call for accompaniment in Emma’s mind. Paperwork, exercise, showering (as if she needed the excuse to take even longer with this particular task). Killian often found her in the kitchen, too busy whipping her hair or belting “the best part” to notice she was burning breakfast.

Henry was worse. If Killian entered a room where the lad had music playing, he was usually pestered into sitting and scolded into staying quiet so he could “really absorb” the song. This was typically followed by a brief contextual lecture courtesy of Henry’s ongoing quest to educate Killian on the popular culture of his adopted realm.

The boy often acted as a fellow culprit of their burned meals, the “Shoop” incident being a prime example.

It was a weekend and Killian was half way down the stairs when he heard the beat from the kitchen. He recognized the style - the type that was more like spoken verse, heavily laden with modern slang. The most difficult to get used to, though the rhythm was a revelation

(“If you really want to appreciate it,” Henry had told him him, “you’ve gotta do your research, ‘cause it started out as, like, protest music? But now it’s gotten all commercial in the mainstream - well, not totally.” He pulled out his phone to add to Killian’s film curriculum. “We’re gonna have to watch The Get Down, and DEFINITELY Straight Outta Compton, maybe Paris is Burning? But I guess that’s more about dance…)

Naturally, when Killian rounded the corner to the kitchen it was to find his wife in his robe (“Why should we buy another one if there’s no overlap in when we want to wear it?”) and his step-son...bouncing? That was the best way he could describe the action. Bouncing - and waxing verse into a spatula and a wooden spoon as if they were microphones.

“Girls, what’s my weakness? MEN.”

Killian could really only stand back and behold.

Emma caught sight of him and began to saunter over, the lyrics aimed at a target now. “Can I get some fries with that shake-shake, booby?”

“Excuse me?” he said.

She ignored his bafflement, her arms rising over her head as her body seemed to roll. The movements were nothing one could find in a ballroom, but with so many years of sailing under his belt, they weren’t completely unfamiliar to Killian. His eyes followed the motion down from her torso to her hips and he promptly lost his train of thought.

She smirked at him - of course - turning so he could appreciate the dance from a different angle. And he appreciated. Up until he smelled the smoke.

“Shit!” came the confirmation from Henry.

They finished the morning at Granny’s, where the lad found the song on the jukebox for an encore.

Lucky for both of the lunatics he lived with that Killian enjoyed their antics. Such as when Henry brought speakers on an afternoon sail, and the sunset had been made truly transcendent thanks to some fellow named Pink Floyd. “Better than lasers,” Emma had said.

But Floyd’s music wasn’t particularly conducive to dancing. More often, Killian found his wife dancing to “hip hop,” or “motown,” or something with layered, ethereal sounds (occasionally, Killian could swear he heard a harpsichord) over a uniform, pulsing rhythm.

“Disco, baby,” Emma had labeled it with one of her fey little smiles. The term of endearment made Killian smirk even as he felt his ears go hot. He was proud to consider himself an accomplished flirt, but his wife could be rather dashing when she wanted to be.

But it was never guaranteed what sort of music he’d find her listening to, especially these days. With the weather turning colder and with no more seasonal festivities to distract her, Emma seemed to rely on her music even more than usual - even just to get out of bed.

She would sit up, wrapped in blankets, and squint at her phone before choosing a song, only leaving her cocoon - with plenty of grumbling - on the second or third selection.

Her mood usually improved in the shower, where she’d sing. Killian was becoming familiar enough with the lyrics to sing along, as he’d taken to joining her in the shower, since he had no hope for hot water otherwise.

This night, Emma had the house to herself. Killian had sensed her delight at the prospect. He could understand it. He enjoyed his own occasional moments of peace at the house or on the Roger. They weren’t as rare since they’d broken the Dark Fairy’s curse, but that didn’t mean he and Emma (and everyone in town) were taking them for granted.

Killian had the late shift at the sheriff’s station with David, and he was to drop Henry off at a party at Violet’s residence (their parting had been amicable, apparently). But first he had to drag the boy away from the latest of a series of arguments with his mother.

“I can handle it, Mom! You said I’m a good driver!”

“In a car, yes. This is different, and you haven’t even been driving that long.”

“I’ve been driving longer than him.” He waved a hand in Killian’s direction.

Killian didn’t bristle at the disparaging tone. His mastery of Emma’s yellow vehicle had taken many exhausting hours of practice and patient coaching from Belle on an apparatus called a “stick shift.”

“Yeah, well he’s definitely not getting a motorcycle,” Emma said.

“Mom, if you would just - ”

“Henry,” she said, “we’ll talk about it later.”

Henry sighed. “You’re just trying to get me out the door.”

“I’m not saying no,” Emma said. “I’m saying we’ll talk about it later and we will.”

He nodded, if sulkily, and allowed himself to be kissed goodbye.

“Come on, lad.” Killian looped his arm around the boy’s shoulder and steered him out of the house.

The drive was silent, Henry too distracted to turn on the radio.

“Look at things her way, lad. She only wants to keep you safe.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, I can take care of myself,” he said, quietly.

“She knows that,” Killian said. “But she also knows what’s in store for you, she knows the world won’t pull it’s punches no matter how capable you are. She’s not looking forward to giving you up to that.” Almost to himself, he said. “I know I’m not.”

“You make it sound like I’m going to leave,” Henry said.

“You might, lad. You’re parents were wanderers, don’t forget. Perhaps by necessity, but they were.”

“And so were you.”

“Aye, and so was I. Though Emma might be happier if you took the Roger instead of a - a motor -”

“Motorcycle.”

“- cycle, right. Aye.”

“Well,” Henry grinned, “would you let me?”

Killian sucked in a deep breath. “I suppose - ”

Henry burst out laughing. “Oh my god, no. Relax, your face.”

Killian sighed, lips twitching as he allowed himself to be mocked. They pulled up to the house shortly after anyway, where Henry turned to him, thoughtful again.

“She shouldn’t worry,” he said, “because if I do wander, it’ll only be until I’ve found my family. Like you both did.”

Killian considered this and dipped his head. “Aye, lad. Very true.”

The boy smiled at him, satisfied and excited, and Killian marveled at him. He was a boy still, but Killian imagined there would always be a spark about Henry, even when he grew into adulthood. It made something pinch in his chest to know that he would get to see it for himself.

He reached out to muss the lad’s hair, which resulted in an angry squawk. “Killian! I just fixed it.”

“Ugh,” Killian said, rubbing the residue between his fingers with exaggerated disgust. “With what? I told you to use -”

“No! I’m not having this argument with you again.” Henry stepped out of the car, frantically trying to smooth out his fringe.”

Killian rolled down the window to shout, “Be responsible, lad! Be a gentleman!” as per his wife’s custom when leaving Henry with his friends.

(“If we aren’t embarrassing him, we aren’t doing it right. My parents embarrass me all the time.”

“That’s because you’re an adult, love.”

“No, it’s because they’re obviously making up for the years they didn’t get to embarrass me.”)

He planned to include the moment in his report when he texted her but as he walked into the station, he reached a hand into his pocket and found it empty.

He cursed and ran back to the parking lot to search the car.

Nothing.

Dave waved him off when he told him where he was going, already pulling up solitaire on his computer. He hated late shifts.

As he pulled into the driveway of the house, curious in spite of himself about how his wife was spending her personal evening.

Music was playing on the amplifier in the kitchen, the rhythm upbeat if lazy, the instruments varied - guitar, harmonica, horns.

She was in a towel, her hair plastered in a wet coil against her neck and shoulder. She wasn’t so much dancing as performing. Her face concentrated in a mask of agony or ecstasy as she sang along, shaking a fist before clutching it to her chest, draping herself across the fridge to pose dramatically. She was ridiculous. Killian bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Woah!” She jerked as she caught sight of him, a crack of energy sparking off the palm she raised in reaction. Killian ducked but the magic fizzled before it could reach him.

“God, Killian! I could have killed you!”

Killian was laughing as he walked over and gathered her up into his arms. “I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed her bare shoulder as she grumbled into his neck. “I forgot my phone. And then I was so enthralled by your performance -”

She shoved him and he laughed again, turning to hunt down the damned device.

When he returned she was pulling a box of something out of the freezer (how she could eat that dreck he’d never understand). The same song was playing, perhaps she’d set it to repeat, but her movements were brisk and efficient. She was focused entirely on her task.

Killian felt a pang of guilt. “Oh love, I am sorry.”

She gave him a self-depreciating smile over her shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, you were relaxed and I worked you up again.”

“Really, Killian, it’s fine.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling her neck trying to think of a way to spike her mood again. “I made sure to embarrass Henry when I dropped him off,” he said.

She lifted a hand to his cheek. “No you didn’t. All his friends have a crush on you, they never notice what you’re saying to him.”

Killian made a face at that disturbing thought. “No I think that little ginger girl might fancy you, actually.”

“Hmm,” she said.

He felt the vibration in her throat, felt her body relax back against his and cheered to himself at the little triumph.

Slowly, he began to rock her, side to side. Trying to lead her back into her dance.

“Am I doing this right?”

She snorted. “Sure. Very ‘PDA couple at a night club.’” She turned in his arms and he moved his hand up between her shoulders.

“No, no,” she said, moving his hand back down to her waist. “This is how we did it in junior high.” She brought his hook to her other side and wound her arms around his neck.

“It’s more in the hips now than anything else,” she said.

Dutifully, he rubbed his hand against the warm terrycloth and felt her hips roll in slow, tight circles, dragging enough to follow the syncopated rhythm.

It was bloody mesmerizing, really.

After a few bars, he found himself matching her movements. She rubbed her cheek along his beard as she pulled away enough to smile at him. He let the satisfaction of seeing the pink burn on her jaw settle heavy in his stomach.

Her fingers had been teasing the hair on his neck, but now her hands (someday, he would have to compose some terrible poetry in tribute to her hands) ran down along his shoulders and arms, making him shiver. She gripped his hand and stepped back, swinging out.

He watched her, expectant, following her lead. Her lips twitched and her eyes danced and all at once she spun back into him, her back to his front, her free hand snagging his hook again, wrapping herself up in him.

She slid down his chest slightly as her hips wound again in a quick little phrase at twice the speed as before. She repeated the move, straightening, and he sucked in a breath as she nestled, plush and warm, against his crotch.

Her head fell back to rest on his shoulder, and still helplessly following her cues, he pressed his mouth to her neck. She hummed approvingly, her hand coming back to his cheek as he trailed kisses up to that place under her ear that made her gasp.

She turned her head to capture his mouth with hers, soft and hot, her fingers snaking back into the hair at the nape of his neck, her hand dragging his up to her breast, her arse grinding insistently against the suddenly aching bulge in his trousers.

He broke away with a groan. “Why are you like this?”

She laughed, breathless. “You bring it out in me.” She spun to face him fully and kissed him again, one hand anchoring his jaw, the other at the small of his back, locking them together, flush from lips to thighs.

“Emma -” the word was smothered against her kisses “- can’t - have to go - I’m on duty.”

“It’s fine.” The word of the night, “I can be quick.”

He laughed, low and desperate. “No you can’t, you greedy minx.”

“Yes.” Now the kisses were punctuation. “When I’m focused - ” Kiss. “When it’s just for you - ” Kiss. Long kiss.

Just as Killian was forgetting the topic of debate - forgetting his own name - she broke off with a snicker. She sang her plea along with the music.

Killian laughed, surprised and delighted.

“Let me...take you there,” she repeated.

“The Savior serenading me?”

“Is that a yes?”

He looked at her, skin pink from the cold because she was too lazy to put on clothes after her shower. Still swaying, pulsing, dancing. Wicked glint in her eye.

He nudged at her nose with his, drawn to her like a magnet, chasing her breath, her taste. “It’s a ‘Do your worst, wife.”

Needing no further prompting, Emma fisted her hands into his jacket and pinned him to the fridge.

“As you wish, husband,” she murmured against his lips.

She devoured him. An onslaught of lips and tongue and teeth. Killian could only grab her hip and hold on. Her kisses traveled from his mouth to his neck, stopping to nip at his earring, and settling at the base of his throat where she licked at the sweat there. She worked open a few buttons of his vest and shirt before she grew impatient and yanked them to the side so she could finish her trail to his nipple. She dragged the flat of her tongue against it making him hiss.

Her hands flew to his belt as she nuzzled her face into his clothed torso, mouthing a kiss to his sternum through the fabric. He stroked his fingers over her wet hair as she kneeled.

“Fuck,” he bit out as her hand seized his cock. She held him up and licked him messily from root to tip then twisted her fist to coat him all over with her saliva. He had to close his eyes, still overwhelmed by the extent of her capacity for depravity.

She pumped him twice, squeezing ruthlessly. His head thunked back against the freezer door. Somehow it registered that the vocalist in the long forgotten song was begging for mercy. He might have laughed if Emma’s mouth didn’t close over him at that moment.

He stiffened, letting out a strangled groan. He struggled to keep still, to let her work comfortably, to be a bloody gentleman. But of course she was having none of it. She gripped the base of him and sucked in long, unbearable pulls that had him growling her name like an animal.

His hips finally bucked forward when her eyes flicked up to snare his. Sometimes the expression in them was fierce and challenging when they made love. Possessive. Now they were serene and smug, reveling in his reaction. Hypnotizing him as he gasped and shuddered and twitched, rendering him a helpless mess plastered to their kitchen fridge, undone by her expert mouth.

She took his hand from where it was clawing at the formica counter and laced their fingers together. Her eyes never strayed from his face as she doubled her pace, her pressure, grounding him even as she sent him careening over the edge into oblivion.

“I needed that.”

“You did?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Not in the slightest. I know I live with a sexual tyrant.”

She smacked his chest with the back of her hand.

“And happily, so,” Killian added.

She hummed her satisfaction, her eyes closed.

He reached over and stroked her neck, frowning at the tension in her frame. “Worried about the lad?”

She hummed again, her lips pursing.

He lifted his to look at her, sitting next to him on the tile, their backs against the cabinets. Still in her towell. “He’s not going to leave us.”

She exhaled sharply, a sad little laugh. “Yes he will. And I get it. I mean, I don’t want him to stay if that’s not what he wants.”

He drew her hair over her shoulder to her back. It had started to dry in unruly yellow waves. “Very well, perhaps he will. But I know you. You’ll make sure we see him again.”

“You know this.”

He gave her a look. “What’s that bloody family motto of yours, love?”

She rolled her eyes.

He cupped her cheek, turned her face to his. “Emma Swan?” he murmured. “She always finds her man.”

She snorted.

He gave her a wry smile. “Henry knows he’s as stuck with you as you are with me.”

Her eyes filled with something deep and steady. “You’re stuck with me too,” she said.

Ah, there it was. A moment of peace. “I know it, love,” he said, and pressed a kiss against her lips.

Something rattled on the counter. His phone.

She broke away. “That’ll be my dad.”

“Yes, I’m stuck with you seducing me away from my duty.”

She laughed, unrepentant, and kissed him all the way to the door.

“I have to go,” he said. “Weren’t you excited to be on your own tonight?”

“Well I changed my mind,” she said. “Now I think it’s a good night to try and beat our record.”

“Goodbye,” he told her firmly. Though the effect was probably ruined by the pathetic grin he felt stretching his cheeks. “Put on some clothes.”

“Put on a scarf!” She nagged back.

His phone buzzed just as he was stepping into the car again.

She’d sent him a link to a song.

Here’s something for you to annoy Dad with at the station, I know he hates late shifts.

I love you.

Killian attached the phone to the car’s sound system before pulling away from the house, and smiled at the opening strains.

She’d played this one for him before, possibly for the first time after their second engagement. Those few calm days before the storm, when they’d shut out the rest of the world, alone together in their house, soaking each other up again. The music she’d gravitated to then had been comforting, and sensual, and hopeful. A serenade for their apologies, their absolutions, their vows, their growth. Their partnership. She might have even played the song he’d found her dancing to tonight.

The moon was high as Killian drove on, but the lyrics rang true as he sang them out, tapping his hook against the wheel.

Just one look at you, and I know it’s gonna be a lovely day

Title from the Irving Berlin song of White Christmas fame.

Songs referenced:

Don’t Get Me Wrong - The Pretenders

How Can You Mend A Broken Heart - Al Green (my “gazing out a window while it rains” song)

Shoop - Salt-N-Pepa

They played Dark Side of the Moon on that sail.

I’ll Take You There - The Staple Singers

Lovely Day - Bill Withers

[minimin1993]

S/M 43 & B/L 36

Warning: Violence.

When the pair was done with their round 2 in the shower and gotten ready they met up with the other 2 idiots at Chris apartment. However when they walked in, they were greeted with 2 huge smirks.

“So how long were you guys planning on hiding this HUGE piece of information from us.” Chris raises his eyebrows staring at them with his arms crossed.

“To be quite honest we are surprised you guys never caught us earlier. We weren’t exactly subtle.” Min said copying Chris posture but standing. 

“Don’t you dare sass me princess.” Chris jokes pointing his finger at her playfully until he let his eyes wander down her body before clearing his throat looking away. “Fuck me, it is going to be hard for me to look at you for a while.” 

“Aww is my Chris getting turned on.” Min teased walking over to him in a sexy way before Sebastian and her laughs seeing Chris adjust his pants a bit. 

“Can’t help it you both are very attractive looking people.” He replies. 

“And I thought they were going to tease us.” Sebastian jokes. 

“Have you guys seen your bodies? It was like Grade A porn, god what I would pay to see you guys.” Anthony said rubbing his face. 

“Nope she is mine and only mine to see.” Sebastian said wrapping his arm around her waist pulling her into a hug. 

“Can we head to the bar now? Being in the same room with these 2 after seeing what we just saw is making it a little hard for me.” Chris jokes standing up from the couch. 

“I bet that is not the only thing that's hard.” Sebastian whispers into Min ear making her giggle.

“Yup, I am officially the only single one.” Chris said walking to the door. 

  Linda woke up back at the compound she was greeted with an exhausted looking Steve sleeping by her bedside. 

“Stevie?” She whispered jerking him up from his sleep.

“Linda? Oh thank god you're finally awake. I was so scared, I thought I lost you too.” He scrambles up pressing the nurses button. 

“I am fine… How long was I out?” She asks.

“A Little more than 3 weeks, Thor said its normal when… you know.” 

“So that wasn’t a dream then, explains the empty feeling I have in my chest.” She said sadly. 

“Linda we will get them back.” 

“I know, we are going to get our family back.” She said when everything in the compound seems to be rumbling. “Stevie whats happening?” 

“I don’t know sweetheart, I am going to go find out.” He attempts to leave the room.

“Let me go with you.” Linda said jumping out of the bed but groans clutching her chest. 

“You just woke up, you still need to rest.” He said helping her up 

“NO! I lost everyone already, I can’t lose you too. I am going to go with you.” 

“Ok but let me get the wheelchair then.” He said helping her sit on the chair before wheeling her out. 

By the time they made it outside, everyone seems to be on the field staring at Carol bringing a spacecraft down. When the entry hatch open, Tony was supported by Nebula breaking everyone's hearts. Steve runs over to help him up; Tony grips onto Steve arm. 

“Couldn't stop him.” Tony said  

“Neither could I.”  

“I lost the kid.”  

“Tony, we lost.”  

“Is, uh...?” Tony tries to ask about Pepper when she runs over to him.   

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Pepper said hugging him tightly.

“It's okay.” 

After Tony was seen by the doctor along with Linda, they called a team meeting. (Or, well what is left of the team.)  

“It's been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodes said as faces of the fallen was flashed on the screen. When Linda saw Bucky face, she wanted to cry but tried to keep a straight face. “World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.” Natasha said  

“Where is he now? Where?” Tony asked frustrated.  

“We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through.” Steve said looking defeated. 

“What's wrong with him?” Tony asks looking over at the depressed looking Thor.

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?” Rocket said 

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Tony looks over pointing at Rocket.  

“Maybe I am.”  

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.” Steve said. 

“Who told you that?” Tony said surprised.  “I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the store. That's what happened. There was no fight.”  

“Okay.”  

“He's unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?” Steve asks  

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.” Tony said  

“Tony, I'm gonna need you to focus.” Steve said  

“And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Tony seethes standing up from his wheelchair pushing his bowl of food off the table, startling everyone. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse -” ripping out his IV 

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” Rhodes tries to stop Tony but he looks over at Steve and the rest again.

“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not- that's what we needed!” 

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve said.

“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.” Tony said with such rage toward Steve making Linda fume just listening to the conversation as she sits there silently.  

“Okay.” Rhodes tries to intervene Tony.  

“Right?”  

“You made your point. Just sit down.” 

“Okay…”  

“Okay?”  

“Nah, nah. Here's my point. You know what?” Tony said  

“Tony, you're sick.”  

“She's great, by the way.” He points over at Carol 

“Sit down. Sit.” 

“We need you. You're new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” Tony said walking right up to Steve face. “I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” He said before snapping over to Linda who was practically radiating Blue. “And don’t get me started on you Linda, but you know what?” Tony asks looking back at Steve after a moment he rips out his own Arc Reactor from his chest and shoves it into Steve hand. “Here, take this. You find him, and you put that on. You hide.” Before he falls to the ground, Steve by his side when everyone one starts to get closer.    “Tony!” Steve said in shock

“I'm fine. I…” Tony collapses before they rush him to the medbay. 

“Bruce gave him a sedative. He's gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.” Rhodes said coming out of the room.

“  You guys take care of him. And I'll bring him a Xorrian Elixir when I come back.” Carol said walking away.    “Where are you going?” Steve asks 

“To kill Thanos.” she answers when Linda, Steve, and Natasha shares a look before walking after her. 

“Hey, you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morales's a little fragile.” Natasha said. 

“  We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too.”  

“You even know where he is?”  

“I know people who might.” Carol answers when Nebula comes in.  

“Don't bother. I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden."  

“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan.” Linda rolls her eyes.  

“So where is he?” Steve asks when Rocket pulls up a hologram.  

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions. No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago. On this planet.”  

“Thanos is there.”  

“He used the stones again.”  

“Hey, hey, hey. We'd be going in short-handed, you know.” Bruce said.  

“Look, he's still got the stones, so…”  

“So let's get him... Use them to bring everyone back.” Carol said.  

“Just like that?” Linda asks sceptic of the plan  

“Yeah, just like that.” Steve answers looking over at her.  

“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this... I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.” Natasha said.  

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asks.  

“Because before, you didn't have me.” Carol said making Linda smirk.  

“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life. And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?” Rhodes asks.  

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.” Carol answers making Steve smirk a little too before Thor, who has been eating a snack behind them all this time, stands up and walks over to Carol. He holds his hand up, and catches Stormbreaker as it flies over to him, missing Carol by inches. But Carol doesn't even flinch, instead smiling at the God of Thunder.  

“I like this one.” Thor said staring at Carol who smiles knowingly at him.  

“Let's go get this son of a bitch.” Steve and Linda said in unison like they read each other's minds. 

[pearlrebs]

I guess i wasnt very clear. Easy to seem angry over the internet unintentionally. I mean to say; rebs url (a small thing) represented something to us. Xe left and we all really miss xer. Xe mattered to us and was a special part of tjlc. 1/8

In many peoples eyes this is an aggressive act. Im sure that you can see at least a little how we would see it that way. 2/8

I wasnt implying that you are not queer or that i hate queers. i was saying that, this is the internet, im not going to always believe everything everyone tells me. 3/8

Most queers i know, try and stick together despite our differences. And the fact that you seem very angry (could be reading into it) at a group of people who are predominately queer tells me that you COULD be something other than queer. 4/8

As you yourself said this is just a tv show...but its more than that isnt it? Why you spend so much thought throwing shade at rebs or the tjlcers or whoever, tells me that theres something else going on and that it is important. 5/8

banding together with like-minded people is the solution to the political shitfest we are in. I'd like to think that we could work thru our differences to reach our common goals assuming, we have common goals. (if im wrong, please let me know) 6/8

I dont see myself as a victim, im only sad. not in a pitying way. Its hard to describe. You were probably the victim of an angry tjlcer on here or witnessed the chaos and theres really no excuse for hatefullness (im admonishing my own camp here). 7/8

debate, yes, but never being mean just to be mean. That doesnt get anyone anywhere. I hope this makes sense and im not trying to offend you. I just think life is too short to hate. And its sad that there has been much on here. 8/8

I’m actually not angry, I think it’s all kinda funny. Though I do try my best to respond seriously to serious messages. The “go fuck yourself”s will always be met with a “sounds good,” but when someone takes the time to send a message like this, I tend to pay attention. Anyways...

First you say you’re not going to always believe everything everyone tells you, then you turn around and say that the tj//lc group is predominantly queer. Who’s telling you that? Hard evidence? Demographics data? A census taken by a neutral third party to determine age range and sexuality, and what direction they believe the show should go? As I answered someone before: anecdotal evidence is inadmissible in science and court for a reason. Of course since you’re a lesbian (a factoid gleaned from your profile, but if this is inaccurate, please inform me. But I could easily say you’re not, but I don’t, because when someone tells me they’re queer, I believe them, who the hell wants to be in a [most places on the globe] hated minority? [by “hated,” I mean high risk of murder, bullying, and homelessness, and possibly being a criminal act depending on where you live]), your experience is going to be skewed towards finding other queer people. You think the group is predominantly queer people, but from the outside looking in, even as a queer person, I’ve mostly seen a bunch of straight women geeking over two middle aged white dudes possibly touching dicks, and using “representation” as a mask. I haven’t mingled with your community — I’ve got my own, who are and aren’t queer all the same.

And again, I say that with full knowledge that it is anecdotal evidence from my viewpoint and experience. I could be wrong. But that doesn’t mean you’re right either. 

Moving on. Most queer people (I don’t like the term “queers” personally, but as a queer person, you can reclaim that word however you want) you know stick together despite the differences. Okay. But if our difference is that you don’t think I deserve rights, or that my life is somehow worth less than a straight person’s (voting Dump/Pence, specifically Mike Pence, who would rather a gay person go to a conversion camp — where the risk of suicide is nearly 70% — than be gay), then that’s not a “difference.” That’s almost a hate crime (and it actually is in some countries). 

I assume you and I have similar goals — stop the carney-handed mango. I assume all but the 14% of LGBT people who did vote for that cheeto in a wig, do. Hence why I make a point of saying I don’t hate Rebs as a person (although the fact that xer Patreon is still up, and xe’s still collecting money, despite the fact xe’s publicly declared xe has no intention on ever making videos again, and even taking the existing ones down, is a little less than the perfect angel everyone is insisting that xe is). 

Tbh, maybe I tend to befriend more queer people irl, but you know what else is important? Straight allies. To me, being LGBT+ is a description of where I put my genitals/my gender identity, and I don’t exactly bond with people over that. A shared struggle, yes, and if I see a queer person being bullied, I will step in. I can support a gay man’s rights, even if that gay man is going out there campaigning for the orangutan in a suit (and some did). I’ll say he should be allowed to get married to whoever he wants, and when his Nazi buddies turn on his ass, I’ll be helping him find a visa out of here, but dear Ahura Mazda, I wouldn’t be caught dead having a beer with him. In fact, they most criticism I’ve ever gotten for being trans, is from other trans people. Yes, they should have rights, but fuck them as individuals, holy shit, don’t tell me how to transition. You can be trans (or any LGBT+) and still be a shitty person. 

But like... about 10%-15% of people are queer. 10%-15% of people couldn’t have voted for our rights and won. Meaning we have a ton of straight people on our side. And that’s what we are: we’re people. I love Steven Universe and pizza. I’ll find people that love Steven Universe and pizza that didn’t vote for literally satan. 

I’ve personally never been wronged by a hateful tj//lcer. But as you pointed out, there was a lot of hatefulness that was slung around. I watched as people attacked Mark Gatiss for not making their ship canon, or call him straight (they really care about representation, don’t they? /s), attacked other queer ships, tags, bullied some other queer shippers into self-harm, etc. 

No, that wasn’t you doing any of that, and that wasn’t anything you participated in... This blog really isn’t about you, I don’t know why you’re so sad about it. This is about everyone’s actions that I’m starting to suspect we both found deplorable. Though I guess if you were a close follower of Rebs, you hated Mary from second one, which was really uncalled for (hate her for shooting Sherlock — I don’t, but it’s a reason — but that didn’t happen until we knew her for two whole episodes, half of a third, and she was just a lovely person until that exact moment). 

The thing is, it IS just a show to me. I’m just responding to hate until I get bored with it. But tj//lc it became so much more to a bunch of people, and that’s why it got so toxic. 

Again, THE PROBLEM is tj//lcers were demanding representation from a show, and writers, who were always honest that they weren’t going to give it. At least not in the way they wanted (and when it wasn’t in the way they wanted, they had tantrums, which is why I say: it was never about “representation” for some of them.). Rebs, even if it started as just a hobby, quickly became, and fed into this mass conspiracy that ultimately did end up hurting a lot of people. Possibly including xerself. That’s why I don’t feel bad taking your symbol: it is just a show, everyone had prior warning that jxhnlock wouldn’t happen, so the conspiracy was always just going to be fanfiction, and Rebs did some shitty things. 

The way people are freaking out... they need to get over it. Or if not, okay, soak in grief forever over a fictional ship, but there’s probably better ways of dealing with all this besides sending me hate. Because honestly, what does anyone hope to accomplish by sending me hate? Me to delete? Sure, let’s say I did that. Jxhnlock isn’t going to be any more canon, and Rebs isn’t going to be any less wrong, and all of the hate xe encouraged is still going to be out there. Oh, and I’ll keep responding, which really just makes it worse. 

Had people just ignored me — never sent any messages — there would be precisely one post on this blog, which was my original announcement that I had it.

Also — what have I said that’s “hateful?” Yeah, okay, I called rebs a “twat” for being a misogynist, I thought it was delightfully ironic, having a misogynistic slur juxtaposed next to that observation (like saying, “don’t fucking swear”), but no one got the joke, so I took it down. But otherwise? Saying John Watson is Straight is just a fact. Jxhnlock never happened, and since it didn’t, the insistence that he’s bisexual has no standing. He’s always said, “I’m not gay.” I never took that to mean he was saying, “I’m not gay, but I like men, I’m bisexual/pansexual.” Jeez, no, if he was part of the community at all, I imagine he’d let it pass, rather than get angry about the assumption (like Sherlock does, who is, said by the writers, to be neither gay nor straight. In fact, I’ve often heard that if you’re a good straight ally, it means not being upset if people assume you’re gay for standing up with them — so in some interpretation, he’s actually a bit homophobic). I’ve also pointed out that xe was wrong, which xe is. My banner is of Gatiss confirm jxhnlock wasn’t happening again — this is a thing that happened. Are facts “hateful” now? 

Also... “life is too short to hate.” I mean... I think I’ve got enough life left in me to hate the sentient tire fire that uses too much fake tan cream, and the apparent resurgence of Nazis in America. Don’t you? Shouldn’t you? 

tj//cers are definitely not on that level, but I don’t hate them, is the thing. I said this before: I hate no one in particular, just what the legacy produced. 

[sister-edgelord]

Apple Tree Yard and Sherlock

I’m blaming @graceebooks for this because she suggested it’d be a good idea for people to *really* watch Apple Tree Yard and look for clues (here’s the post), so I went and tried to actually concentrate on it and just took some notes basically. I probably missed a lot. But still, two pages in a word doc isn’t nothing, even if most of it is literally completely irrelevant. (If you’re also intending to watch it, do take care bc trigger warnings apply.) (Rape mention in this post, too.)

Most of these points are really obvious, and of course the show isn’t completely made up by Mofftiss as it’s an adaptation of a real book, but eh. I put a * in front of the stuff I personally liked.

While watching this, I thought of John as Yvonne, Mary as Yvonne’s husband Gary (!) but also possibly Yvonne’s colleague who raped her. Affair guy (he hasn’t got a name yet) is Sherlock.

*-Ok, so John and Yvonne both have a PhD. He’s an actual doctor, of course. She’s a biologist who works with DNA… stuff, idk, protein sequencing, bla. (Now that I’m typing this, it actually reminds me of Doctor Stapleton and Bluebell.)

*-John and Yvonne both meet a stranger and fall for him.

-Affair guy takes Yvonne to a chapel’s broom cupboard, on the door of which there’s a picture of a suffragette (Emily Davison), who once hid in there during a census. This suffragette theme is vaguely reminiscent of tab, and I’d also argue that Mofftiss are aware how terrible it’d be for the show’s female characters if Sherlock actually ended with tfp.

*-Yvonne’s husband was called Guy in the book, but now he’s called Gary?? Which. Um. Gary. Mary.

*-tecHNOLOGY!! There is a computer in aty. She keeps writing to affair guy (but doesn’t send it off) on her computer. John’s blog is similar in that he almost only ever talks about Sherlock.

*-She writes, “I don’t even know your name.” ASiP, anyone?

-She writes, “The only person I can talk to about you, is you.” Of course for her this is because she’s having an affair. Still, John, too, is unable to tell his therapist the things he meant to say but never has, because these words are only meant for Sherlock.

*-She writes, “What we did today is without doubt the most reckless act I’ve ever committed.” – Yeah, sounds a bit like John’s “That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.” (“And you invaded Afghanistan.”)

-She writes, “Will you even give me a second thought or is this just something you do?” – No direct parallel here, but surely this is something John has asked himself concerning Sherlock. In tfp, specifically, this is shown in the way Mycroft talks about John when he’s trying to make Sherlock shoot him and not John.

*-Yvonne is talking to a co-worker about something, and the co-worker drops the phrase, “the moment of conception”. I’m sure you all remember where we’ve heard that before.

*-Yvonne and also affair guy both drink coffee all the time. (Also wine, which I forget the meaning of, drink-code wise.)

*-There’s a (completely unnecessary, as far as I recall) scene at a friggin Pool.

-Yvonne calls affair guy to end things before it goes any further because too many people could get hurt – John says he’s not free. (To the lady on the bus? To someone else?)

-At the end of the first episode, we’re led to believe Yvonne might have killed someone (aka her rapist). We don’t really know yet, maybe affair guy killed him, maybe no one really died at all. It remains unclear for now. I don’t need to elaborate on this one, do I? (I mean, I like the theory that John killed Mary and Mary isn’t really dead, but that’s just my opinion, and really the point I’m making here is that Mary isn’t particularly nice.)

-Affair guy gives Yvonne a phone specifically for keeping in contact with him. It’s pay-as-you-go and he tells her never to top it up at the same place twice so she doesn’t establish a pattern. Reminds me of all the theories about who John is texting, which also requires planning especially if it’s Sherlock, because Mary would find out far too easily if they didn’t have some kind of cover.

*-Some guy brings Yvonne and her co-worker coffee from a vending machine. Co-worker: “Sorry, Yvonne. I know you like posh coffee.” Yvonne: “Oh, as long as it’s caffeine. I like to pretend I’m classy, but I’m really easy.” ? drink code much??

-A student comes up to her and says, “Whatever the outcome – and I totally respect that – I’d… I’d really appreciate the opportunity to talk with you about your research. [He hands her his card.] I’m very discreet.” (He clearly wants to ~get with her~.) – This just reminded me of the unconfirmed Sherlock Twitter account contactsh.

- Affair guy: “Has anyone seen you using the phone?” Yvonne: “Well, no-one I know, obviously.” Affair guy: “What will you tell your husband if he finds it, if he goes through your bag?” Could theoretically be about John’s texts to Sherlock (in which case the affair would be a cover story), but rather abstract.

-Affair guy texts her, “Want to make you wet.” – Water thing.

-There’s a quote affair guy reads out to Yvonne from a statue: “Is life a boon? If so, it must befall That Death, whene'er he call, Must call too soon.” This quote is from Gilbert and Sullivan, “The Yeomen of the Guard”, Opera, 1888. I’m just including this because quotes are often relevant.

*-CCTV cameras are called to our attention whenever affair guy and Yvonne are getting it on in some alley. He always checks to make sure they’re facing away from them. (Yvonne later suspects affair guy is with the MI5. Still, reminds me of Mycroft.)

-In one of the letters she doesn’t send, she tells affair guy: “Gary’s friend, Michael, he started base jumping in his forties, flinging himself off cliffs. At least you don’t do that.” – Looking at you, Sherlock. This is a terrible het story, but hey, at least affair guy doesn’t jump off any cliffs or anything.

*- Affair guy: “Intuition. By which I mean, of course, a combination of observation, knowledge, and experience otherwise known as gambler’s edge.” ? Are they talking to us here? Idk.

-I spotted a rainbow! Does anyone know which building that is and if it’s usually illuminated like this? It looks pretty distinctive but I can’t really think of what it is right now.

Ok, that’s all I’ve got. Probably doesn’t mean anything really, but we’ll see.

[taxchecking-com]

How Did We Start Paying Income Tax?

Hey so how did you feel when you received your first paycheck? I was pretty excited I'll be honest. I worked for weeks and weeks and there in the sealed envelope was my very first hard-earned compensation. I had so many plans about what I was going to do with the money. But those hopes were brutally dashed the moment I read the bottom line. By the time the money actually got to me, it had been sliced up like a pizza. An alphabet soup of government agencies each got their cut before I did. What are taxes anyway? How do they work? How did we end up with this present system? First things first, the basic idea of taxation is pretty simple. There's some sort of state or similar authority that imposes a levy on an individual or legal entity like a corporation or something. If you can't pay, then you can be charged with a crime. This is a very old concept. It dates back as far as Mesopotamia and Egypt's Old Kingdom. Nowadays the tax man's not gonna beat the crap out of you for being late. But the system is way, way more complicated. In the United States the taxes you pay vary from person to person, from company to company, from check to check, and then from state to state. However most people do have to pay the federal income tax. The US tax system is huge. Complex doesn't even begin to describe it. A better word would be byzantine, which I looked up earlier. In 1913 Congress passed the 16th Amendment. The 16th Amendment says this specifically: "The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes "on incomes from whatever source derived, "without apportionment among the several States, "and without regard to any census or enumeration." Okay, let's be honest. While most folks in the US only think about taxes when April approaches, the process really begins when you start a new job. You and your employer agree on your compensation or before tax income. Next thing you do is fill out a form called the W-4 and it determines how much income tax your employer will withhold from each check. Why do they do this? Good question. Employers are required by law to withhold income tax and deposit the money in a federal reserve bank. This is how the federal government maintains a steady stream of income while also drawing interest on your tax dollars. Pretty clever, huh? So instead of paying taxes once a year in April, you're actually paying them all year long, every time you get a paycheck. The rules change when you're a freelancer or independent contractor or you're otherwise self-employed. Nobody's gonna withhold income taxes each time you get paid by a client or a customer so it's up to you to manage what you owe. What's a good way to think of income taxes? Let's think of filing income taxes in April kind of like settling up with the IRS. All you're doing is figuring out if you paid the right amount of cash. If you paid too much, boom, you get a refund. If you paid too little, boom, you're writing another check. Income tax forms like the 10-40 are notoriously confusing. But that's because they're based on a code that's more than 5000 pages long, because somebody thought that would be a good idea. Presidential candidates are always talking about revising the system, but how? Well there are all sorts of potential alternatives like, for example, this thing called the flat tax. Under a flat tax system, everybody pays the same rate. Proponents of a flat tax system say that it would do away with all the complicated codes and forms. Critics say this system favors the wealthy and that's not the most controversial idea. There's another one. It's even more controversial than the flat tax. The idea that we should just repeal the 16th Amendment altogether, abolish income tax, don't worry about it. In place of income tax then, they would have a national sales tax. Many countries around the world already levy a national sales tax. You've heard of it before. It's called a value added tax, or VAT. The difference is that most of these countries also collect income tax. US backers of this plan want to get rid of the IRS and charge a flat 10%-25% on all retail purchases of new goods and services. People who are fans of this say that a consumption tax collects revenue from everybody, even illegal residence, tax dodgers, tourists from other countries et cetera. Opponents say it puts an unfair burden on the middle and lower classes who buy a lot of the stuff that would be taxed. They also say it might reduce consumer spending, slowing the economy down. Then they add that in order for it to be fair, it would have to be applied to the purchase of stocks and bonds in addition to consumer goods. Yeah, so it's no secret that taxes are a bigger subject in many countries. The United States has had a, at best, a rocky relationship with this issue. The US doesn't just have one of the most complicated tax systems in the world it also grows more complicated each year. This is a politically charged, divisive issue but there is one thing that everyone can agree on. The current system is not perfect. So here's a question. What would you change if you were in charge? Let us know in the comments. Go ahead and like and subscribe. Thank you so much for watching.

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