#“we want the 2 party system just like how god intended” whatever old man move over or die

[tuliptiger]

ANYWAY ranked choice voting for the win. APPARENTLY red states have actually went so far as to ban it because they know they'd lose.

RCV is more democratic than the 2 party system we currently have. If someone outright wins at 50% or more they win! Outright, just like the good old days yadda yadda no participation awards here. If nobody does they still technically have the majority just with the help of 2nd place votes. It gives people a stronger vote for their real preferences.

RCV gets more people to vote which Republicans don't actually want unless! You're voting for their team period. They do not outright want more people to vote they just want to win period.

One quote from some idiot politician from a state that banned RCV PREEMPTIVELY might I add, say they banned it because (something to the effect), " we believe in the two party system like our country was founded on!" (It actually was Not founded on a 2 party system and George Washington famously stated that a 2 party system would ruin the USA in the way that we have it now where the parties serve themselves rather than the nation and it's people.)

RCV doesn't demolish democrats or republicans but rather makes better candidates from both sides AND introduces candidates that may be more in line with how a state or even nation operates.

It just makes the 2 biggest and strongest parties shape up and do better or move out of the way for a candidate better suited for the JOB and not who's more POPULAR.

[sexlessrpmemes]

Call me Kevin quotes

’Call Me Kevin’ quotes, because this man is funny (and deserves more subscribers), and half of what he says is pure gold, and a lot of it works really well, for starters/ask memes:

Brackets like [] are for things that make sense to be replaced by a name, either of the character being spoken to or of another character.

{TEXT} are for things that could work well for being sent as a text

Sims 4 But My Restaurant Is To Die For:

‘does no one care? dude’s on fire yo IF only anyone cared, my plan would be perfect.“

“Sorry dude *nervous laughter/normal laughter* I hate to bring this realization to ya like this.”

’'don’t interact with me, go away.”

“yeah, i know, he’s dying, i don’t care, he was only meant to be a distraction anyway.”

{TEXT} “yES, my introduction made her leave, as soon as i introduced myself she’s like: i don’t really want to be around this guy.’'

’'YES! THE DISCO SYSTEM IS MINE - and had a great price; it only cost one human life.”

“maybe i should buy a boat.”

“[they/we/I] don’t even sell drinks… you can’t even wash down your death meal.”

“food quality: normal, oh wait.. no that was the water.”

“i want to be the last thing they hear (before they die; me, playing) on this piano.”

“i forgot i have a kid here.”

“I always feel like he’s up to something… I just – he’s thinking about something evil.”

“Why do they even got this old dude running the party? It should be this old dude running the party.”

“Oh! I have an idea!” *proceeds to set a person/thing on fire*

“Why are you laughing?!” *realises it’s about someone’s death* “Oh, I like [her/him/you/them]” *laughter*

“Plus, no-one’s in there so I can get away with it scot-free.”

{TEXT} “Well, now everyone’s come inside and they’re all just watching me do this now… they’re happy about it for some reason though.”

{TEXT}“Oh, no, they’re not so happy about it anymore.”

“Wait, what? What’s wrong with you – oh, yeah, I turned them all into vampires! Of course.”

“HEY! Get down behind the counter, people can see that you’re not wearing pants!”

“[He] takes everyone’s food for no reason. [He] doesn’t even need it – [he’s] a vampire!”

“Jesus, I pay [that guy] $2 an hour…”

“This is actually a huge, generous act I’m doing here; paying [him] at all.”

“If they eat the poisonous meal, and then I drink their blood… am I poisoned?”

“I don’t even try with this stuff, it just kinda happens.”

“Sorry [folks], I hope this inconsiderate bastard dying didn’t ruin your day.”

Bad Cooking: Baked Alaska:

“Join me, on this great adventure, as we pre-heat the oven.”

“Sometimes I just eat a whole stick of unsalted butter.”

“This is about the daily recommended dose of butter. You should be getting this into your system at least every… five hours.”

“It doesn’t matter, that step isn’t important.”

“Spoiler… it actually is… very important.”

“This is a special irish plastic lemon… they’re ah, quite rare.”

“Ah! Oh! Shit, stop!” *Pause.* “its fine. It doesn’t matter.”

“It really, really matters.”

“FECK! Every time…”

“I’ve never seen a cake look this good!” *shakes the tin.* “It… kinda jiggles a bit.”

“I call this the T-Rex Technique.”

“It’s as easy as that. Wow!” ß intended as sarcasm.

“This is the saddest cake I’ve ever seen.”

“This isn’t gonna work. This is gonna be bad, I know it is. I know it’s gonna be bad.”

“That sound is fine. That sound is supposed to happen… the sizzlin’.”

*is holding a fire extinguisher* *notices [you]* “Oh! It’s fine. We won’t be needing that. We’re just gonna be lighting some whiskey on fire.”

“Wow! [name] that looks great! That looks amazing!” ß intended as sarcasm.

“You’re not supposed to look at me. That’s supposed to be someone else.”

“Please don’t fall apart please don’t fall apart please don’t fall apart please don’t fall apart – It’s falling apart, wait, hold on.”

“Oh yes. Here we go. I feel like making a sand castle.”

“You could argue that it doesn’t look exactly like as in the picture. But I would say better – some would say better. I – I would say better.”

“Now we just need to light it on fire.”

“Realistically, it should be lit on fire. It’s the only –“ *laughs* “-It’s the only reasonable thing to do.”

“That’s not – that’s not gonna survive going the other way, so that’s how it is now.”

*drinks straight from whiskey bottle.*

*pours whiskey into saucepan/whatever it’s a thing on the hob* “Why are you backing away? WHY ARE YOU BACKING AWAY??” *suppressed laughter.”

“The [Meringue] was the downfall, that’s where it went wrong. As opposed to the rest, that – that went fine. That was great.”

“Okay. Well. That went well.”

Superhot VR But I’m More Like Super Not:

“Alright, let’s get started, I’m gonna… pick up, the gun.”

“And everything goes to hell right away.”

“So I can keep moving, do the ol’… roly-poly, and then shoot him. Easy.”

“Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me!” *takes gun.* “Aha!”

“I’m just gonna stand here, I like the compliments.”

“Holy crap this is awesome! Floppy discs are back!”

“Oh god, I’m sorry, that was a bit unfair.” *saw you and shot you.*

“I smashed my wall so hard that I cut my hand. You should’a seen the wall though. I’m like… really really strong.”

“So this is what it’s like to feel cool. It’s pretty awesome, but disappointing to know I’ll never actually be this cool.”

“This is a nice bike shop, now that I look around. They don’t have many models, though, feels like a bit of wasted space.”

“Why am I throwing ninja stars? I have guns.”

“I am not a ninja. I am an action hero. Not. A. Ninja.”

“I need ninja stars now, all of a sudden.”

“That was probably a low blow anyway. It’s probably best I fail that part.”

“Like everything else I love in life, it disintegrated in my hand.”

“I don’t know why I just tried to catch a knife… by the sharp end.”

“Well I’m not gonna get a long life. Or maybe I will!”

“Once again, I am prepared for everything.”

“I had to look around me, because I was like, ‘this is the moment something comes behind me.’”

“I’ll just swat away their bullets like they’re just flies.”

“So maybe I’m actually a super villain as opposed to a super hero. I could believe that.”

Deathly Hallows Part 1 but we frustratingly finish the game:

“What the hell – what’s going on – why are you shooting at me?!”

“Wait – this is where we choose to camp; in this nuclear waste?!” *laughingly incredulous*

“Okay, fair enough… I mean, we were in a lovely forest but, I prefer nuclear reactors too.”

“I’d love to be able to count the days of two weeks on my hands.”

“Alright, you’re – apparently freed, now? I’m – not really sure how…”

“Like, do we not have anyone else that’s out here tryn’a help people? I mean, I’ve got a pretty important mission no-one else can do, can I not be doing that instead?”

“Oh my god, this guy’s strong, they’re just reflecting off him!”

“I’m just gonna keep running, it’s honestly not worth fighting from my experience.”

“Oh, this is the one that doesn’t sound as fun.”

“Oh. It’s just a newspaper. I thought it’d be like, a weapon.”

“That makes me sad, for numerous reasons.” *laughingly, but serious.*

“I’m not undesirable, lots of people desire me.” *mulish.* *pause.* “Alright, I lied, no-one does.”

“My god, he looks eerie as hell.”

“That doesn’t even look like what she’s saying, look at her lips. I think she’s possessed… Let’s kill her.”

“I’m not tryn’a be mean or anything, I know I just sound like a dick.”

“This is a lot of people to dedicate to just watching over my grave. Wait – my grave? No, my parents’ grave, my grave comes later.”

“Are you sure? It’s not like, obvious, at all.” ß sarcasm.

“That’s actually spooky as hell, not gonna lie.”

“Y’know, the house is just exploding… casual old lady stuff.”

*laughs* “I think I just got head-butted by a snake.”

“How many times am I gonna get head-butted? And how strong’s that snake’s head; he keeps head-butting me through walls.”

“Oh! Finally! You realise something’s amiss!”

“Here. Now you’re free. If you could help me, that’d be great.”

“Like anytime I kill people they drop like, random potions, and I keep wanting to drink them, but I don’t know, it seems dangerous.”

“At least he sounded thankful, the others just seem to go like ‘oh, cheers.’”

“Thank god the dead don’t know how to use stairs.”

“Like, what are you even doing? One, they’re not coming in, and two, you’re hitting the wall.”

“Sometimes you just gotta live with the consequences of your actions, y’know? [I] can’t always come save you. Even if [I] do have a bazooka.”

“Yeah, I think so too! Please!”

“Let’s see if you can handle it, then.”

“Oh. Okay, maybe you can.”

“Let’s choose the worst possible place we can find.”

“I mean, it’s nice and all, but it’s no nuclear waste, am I right?”

“Spiders I just ignore. Because they’re losers, and they have too many legs.”

“Is he following me? Or, is this following him? Either way, he’s got a lotta hazards to deal with, because I am not dealing with any of them.”

“Ah, thanks for just standing there.”

“I’m just gonna start nuking these snakes.”

“What are you doing?”

“Yeah, I think we can beat the rock.”

“Yeah but you don’t need to scream or – or do anything, to be honest, I think you’ve just won by being human.”

“The only thing good about this is hearing [] in pain. That’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

“Don’t bother attacking them buddy. They’re already dead. Just like my love for you…”

“Oh come on now don’t exaggerate, I was fine. [] just kinda stood there.”

“You’ve changed since you came back, [], you used to just be pathetic… now you’re pathetic and mean.”

“Why does [] have all these dead people in [] front yard?”

“Now even the guy try’na explode the side of the house isn’t hurting me.”

“What?! We didn’t even do anything, we just [exploded] and [died!]”

“You had about ten minutes to figure out who I was in that fight.”

“Yeah, just shout my name. Really makes messing up my face worth it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah I’m gonna blow this house apart.”

“Ah, this is gonna be traumatic, isn’t it?”

[chinatea]

Ian/Baby G(Jiyeon), criminals, implied premeditated murder.

The party is so-so.

And yet, Jiyeon is here anyway, sipping his non-alcoholic cocktail, minding his own business and trying not to visibly gag at the vultures leering at him from the dim corners of the club. Most of them are his boyfriend’s cronies, and that’s probably the only reason he’s left alone to pout into his drink.

The criminal world is so, so dull, save for an occasional blood splatter on his lovely satin shirts. The travesty. Still, it’s another petty jibe to prickle his asshole of a boyfriend with. That fucking dipshit truly believes just because he doesn’t beat him, he’s some kind of glowing beacon of benevolence or something. Which is too bad. Jiyeon would rather take a punch to the face, something to make him so worked up he’d actually nut up and stab the guy in his sleep or something, and then take a bullet to the head from one of his lackeys, because he knows what happens to the rogue bitches of dead druglords - they bury them in the woods.

Or backyards, because gas prices are steep these days.

Stewing in his maudlin mood, he is startled to see a tall shot winding up in front of him, almost like magic, liquid like warm gold licking up the brims.

“I thought you might wanna have something stronger than whatever you’ve been having for the past hour, sweetheart.”

That’s...a long fucking sentence and Jiyeon’s brain breezed through most of it. There is only so much stimulation it can handle simultaneously and this man, whomever he is, is plenty stimulating. Visually so. He perches onto the stool next to Jiyeon, easy, suave and handsome - too handsome to be wasted in a jealous rampage, but what does Baby G care. All men are trash anyway. Including him.

He kisses his teeth, loud, just to let this hunk know how he’s not impressed - which is, actually, a coded signal for ‘I’m very much impressed. Please continue, honey, you’re doing great.’ And if the guy is not a total tool, he’ll get it. This is how Jiyeon filters out gems from trash.

(His boyfriend is pure trash, by the way. He never gets it.)

“And you’re, what, some kind of party police? I’m here and I fucking hate it, so there.”

Jiyeon’s upper lip curls into a snarl, right before he downs the drink offered, because he doesn’t have to explain himself to anyone.

“You wanna to talk about it?” the man says with a tranquil grin, eyes flickering down to his full lips - sinful as hell, Jiyeon is very much aware, as he swipes his tongue over them, a habit of his, nothing more. “I’m told I’m a great listener,” he then adds, eyes roaming his face, quite unabashedly, before meeting Jiyeon’s eyes, dragging him down into the deepest pools of black he’s ever seen.

Maybe Jiyeon likes him enough to skip all the pleasantries. Time spent on chitchat is time wasted, anyway.

“Do you wanna talk about it or do you wanna fuck me?”

The guy takes the cheekiness of his tone in stride.

“Can’t it be both?”

“As much as I like good ol’ chinwag for foreplay, I’d rather get fucked the marbles out of me, preferably before my boyfriend gets back from the backrooms, where he’d drilling some whore right now, and makes a scene. I’d give him about five more minutes. Can you do me in five minutes?”

Jiyeon, all business-like, checks his makeup in his compact’s mirror. If there is one rule he holds holy in this world without order, it’s to look flawless as he’s being railed through a wall, or something. Who knows what’s awaiting him on the other side of that wall. The world is unpredictable like that, but at least, his mascara doesn’t flake all over his face.

“I’d rather take you out for dinner, first. How does tomorrow sound?” the guy asks.

What a spoilsport, Jiyeon thinks, clicking his compact shut, as he stares at him, one perfectly trimmed eyebrow quirked in bemusement.

“Sure, I’ll just go ask my psycho boyfriend first,” Jiyeon says. “His name is Seunghee, by the way. I’m sure you’ve heard of the guy.”

“He won’t be a problem,” the guy shrugs, all blase about the name that makes even the old underdogs act like their buttholes are on fire.

“Wish I could say the same,” Jiyeon sighs as he tucks his fists under his chin. When he’s not having sex, he’s a mellow bitch, ready to cry his little heart out. “He’s been the pain in my ass, pun intended, ever since we met at some shady host bar. And I wasn’t even working there, you know. Got dragged in by a friend, but he saw me and...”

...harassed him into this fucked-up joke of a relationship. Sometimes Jiyeon can hardly believe he’s being forced to waste his youth being that asshole’s ragdoll. One of these days, he’s going to snap and kill the bastard, to hell with the consequences.

“Hey, there, we’re talking now,” the guy says, matter-of-factly, with the tiniest pinch of a taunt. As if he knew not to provoke Jiyeon with faux sympathy. Smart move. “Wasn’t so bad, was it. Tell me more.”

“What’s there to tell? I hate his guts and wish him dead. End of story.”

Jiyeon finishes his own drink, the non-alcoholic gin and tonic, before hopping off the barstool, ready to be on his way. If he’s not getting dick tonight, then what’s the point.

“But thanks for asking, yeah?” he smiles, brushing his hand over the guy’s shoulder. The guy who catches his hand and pulls him closer as he leans over to whisper intimately.

“What if I can make it happen. And you let me take you out for dinner. How does that sound?”

Jiyeon looks at him and then starts laughing. Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system, although he could probably douse himself in vodka and still feel sober afterwards, but the off-handed way the guy made the delivery was really fucking funny to Jiyeon.

“You know what,” he giggles into his palm. “Forget about that, I’ll fucking date you, if you kill him.”

He reaches out his tiny well-groomed hand to shake on it, all in good laugh, of course, and the guy takes it, bringing it to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to his pulse point. For everyone else to see, but unbothered in the slightest, dark eyes trained at Jiyeon the whole time, unwavering and intense.

“Deal.”

And that was a week ago. This morning Jiyeon wakes up to an empty flat, meaning that scumbag didn’t return home last night, probably still stuck up some slut’s butthole. Meaning Jiyeon can have one peaceful morning all to himself. Bless the small mercies.

It’s almost nine in the evening when Jiyeon starts wondering, some very peculiar thoughts drifting through his mind, as he stares at his phone, blissfully silent the whole day - the possessive prick would send him a deluge of messages throughout the day, checking on him, and god forbid Jiyeon switches off his phone or something. Today, however, silence.

It’s twelve AM, next morning, that Jiyeon finally turns on the TV, from boredom, and it’s all over the news: the bomb in the penthouse, possibly an assassination, possibly drug-related, gang war(?), only one casualty. The former drug lord, Lee Seunghee. The police currently is investigating the suspects…

Jiyeon’s hands are shaking as he scrambles for his phone. One message, unread, time of the delivery - 2:45AM. Right after the bomb went off, according to the reports.  

‘So, about that dinner tomorrow...’

And Jiyeon smiles.

---

So, who do u think Ian is? (Ya know, I’ve always wanted to write an au where BG is just as fucked-up as Ian is. So, I guess this is it.)

Some of you might notice a slight discrepancy with the timing, like if the bombing only happened last night, where was BG’s bf the whole day prior? I don’t know if I wanna explain it here without giving away who Ian is. Maybe in part two, then.

Now, I feel like I need to write a second part, or smth.

[seriouslyhooked]

Dear No One (Part 3/3)

Short CS holiday story, broken into three parts, where Emma is unlucky in love and decides that for her Christmas wish she’d like to find the right person for her. In an attempt to write what she wants into existence, Emma writes a letter to the man she wants to find someday and then shenanigans ensue. Rated T/M (basically I haven’t decided yet how smutty it’s getting) and based off of the song ‘Dear No One’ by Tori Kelly. 

Part 1, Part 2. Story available onFF here and AO3 here.

A/N: So here is the last official part of the story (it was the conclusion that I saw in my head originally), but as I mentioned before, there might be an epilogue coming in the next few weeks. This chapter flashes forward a few weeks from the last one and is set on Christmas Eve. There’s a lot that happens and a lot of feels, but rest assured that by the end this is the same kind of fluff I love to write, especially around the holidays. Hope that you all enjoy this installment and thanks so much for reading!

Three weeks was really no time at all, twenty one days, give or take, but for Emma, the last three weeks had been incredible.

Since meeting Killian, Emma had felt like things were finally beginning to click. She didn’t know what had made it happen - fate, chance, some sort of universal pull - but whatever had brought her and Killian together she was grateful for it. Right now, things between them felt like a perfect mix. He’d found her and she’d found him at the right time. For the first time she’d been somewhat open to letting someone in. She had admitted to herself that she wanted love, and yet, even though she’d already had that tough conversation with herself, Emma knew in her heart Killian would have inspired the change in her one way or another. Truth was, Killian was undeniable, and her attraction to him was easily the strongest of any one she’d ever had before.

The timing of all of this was somewhat suspect, however. Because really, who actually fell in love at Christmas other than people in those cheesy hallmark movies? It was so cliché, but at the same time what she felt for Killian was so real. It didn’t matter that when they’d had their first date there’d been Christmas flavored cocoas or the scent of pine from the trees that decorated the coffee shop. It didn’t matter that when Killian asked her out to dinner that same night there were Christmas lights that twinkled and glowed a perfect white gold color all along Newbury Street where their restaurant was. It didn’t even matter that her favorite Christmas songs seemed to crop up any time they were together, and that those old melodies that sang of sharing one’s heart at Christmas rang out as incredibly relevant with all she was feeling. In all honesty, this new relationship could have started in any season and Emma would have felt this pull. It was just a bonus that the aura of Christmas was all around. Things between Killian and Emma already felt a little magical, so the spirit of the holiday was simply the cherry on top.

“I’d give anything to know your thoughts right now, love.”

Killian murmured the words as he came up behind her, his hands wrapping around her in a loving hold. Emma couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, her body melting into his like it was completely normal, because it was fast becoming the norm. She couldn’t help how much comfort she took in his presence, and after having that moment with herself and admitting all that she wanted and was looking for, she’d taken the plunge and decided to be brave. It took a lot of courage for Emma to be transparent with her feelings and to show Killian how much he’d come to mean to her, but though it was a big change, Emma found strength in Killian’s unapologetic and completely obvious infatuation with her.

“I was just thinking that it’s Christmas, and I kind of can’t believe this is my life. Last year it was just me. I was rolling solo to this party with my friends, but they all had someone. And this year that’s different.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Killian growled, his mouth coming down to kiss her neck as Emma laughed and turned around in his embrace. She was going to say something teasing, maybe poke a little fun at how serious he was about things already, but then she looked in his ocean blue eyes and her breath caught. The words in her brain flitted away, and all she could think was that this look wasn’t one of mere interest and attraction. It was raw passion, and, dare she say, love. “I can’t imagine someone I’d rather be with on this day than you, Emma. I’ve been alone in the past too, more than I ever wished to be. But they call it the season of blessings, and for the first time I feel that. Any moment that I’m with you is no less than a gift.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon to feel like this?” Emma asked, her words genuinely curious even though her heart was telling her that it wasn’t too fast. Still, she wanted to hear it from Killian himself.

“When you know, you know, Emma. I truly believe that, and from the moment I saw you I knew that you were different. You take me to new places. You make my world better and brighter. I can’t seem to let you go, even for a moment. You’re with me, love. Always.”

“Sounds pretty serious,” Emma said with a smile, her heart fluttering in her chest as Killian grinned and his hand came up to cup her cheek.

“Aye, because it is, and I intend to show you just how serious very soon.”

Unable to resist any longer, Emma pressed a kiss to his lips and she reveled in the fact that they were instantly in this together. It took just a moment for the kiss to deepen and for their mutual lust to grow stronger between them. What started out as sweet and soft morphed into something that melted her insides and made her want so much more. Killian could feel it too, and the way his hands roamed over her body, toying with the hem of her form fitting dress made Emma moan. They had places to be, a party with all her friends, and surprisingly with Killian’s friends too (because it turned out there was already a lot of overlap in their lives what with Liam dating Elsa and Belle and Will being together), but Emma was oh so tempted to let this first stage turn to more. Her mind wandered to the things she and Killian had done the past few weeks, the way he always seemed to read her body, eliciting pleasure and leaving her dizzy wanting more. He was everything she’d ever imagined, and though they’d been together only hours before, Emma could feel her cravings grow and her want for more rise higher.

“Any more of that and we won’t be getting to this party, Swan,” Killian said as he tore his lips from hers, his forehead resting against hers as his breath came out more labored, mirroring hers. Emma knew he was right, but still, it was hard to pull back when she knew how good things were between them.

“You’re right, you’re right. But just know I have a whole lot of ideas for later…”

“I can hardly wait,” Killian said adamantly, before dropping one last kiss to her lips and moving towards his closet. “Just give me a few minutes, love. I’ll be ready to go in no time.”

Emma watched him go and debated staying for the show, knowing how sexy Killian was underneath those clothes of his, but if they had any hope of getting to the party she had to give herself some space. She walked out into the rest of his condo, finding herself meandering towards his study and she looked around, taking comfort in the dark colors and the smell of books and paper. They hadn’t spent a whole lot of time in here, but Emma had loved it when he gave her the tour of his place weeks ago. It had a timeless feel, looking more like a little library than anything else, and Emma found she loved the smell of all these books and the fireplace in the corner. It felt homey even while it was dignified, and with the decorations hung about just like in the rest of Killian’s home, it was festive and comforting.

Roaming through the room, Emma found herself scanning the titles of the books that he had, noticing a lot of overlap between his favorites and the classics that she loved as well. By the time she made it over to his desk, Emma was full on smiling and thinking that she could tuck herself away in here for hours with a good book and a cup of cocoa, but then something caught her eye, a piece of parchment that seemed familiar, folded in threes just like a letter.

Curiosity won out in the end, and Emma moved to see the piece of paper only to feel her stomach drop when she opened up the page. It was a complete shock to her system to see those three little words at the top: ‘Dear No One,’ and Emma felt her heart plunge when realization kicked in. Killian had her letter! He had her letter and he never told her. Why had he done that? And God, how could she have been so stupid?

Without thinking or giving herself time to process any of this or to ask Killian what the hell was going on, Emma started moving. She took the letter with her, rushing into the front hall and grabbing her coat. She had to get out of there, and she had to go now, but as she opened the door and heard Killian call out to see if that was her, a sob broke through. She looked down at the letter and actually felt she might be sick, and she dropped it to the floor as she slammed the door behind her, leaving the man she was foolish enough to fall in love with as quickly as she could.

Moving through the freezing streets of Boston, Emma felt like her whole world was crumbling down. Here she was thinking that she’d finally found the one for her. When they were together, Emma felt so much hope and possibility. She’d been falling from the start, and with every day another piece of her heart had become his. But this was a betrayal, right? He had to know the letter was hers. There was no way it could just be a coincidence, and as Emma ran back through that morning that they first spoke in her head, she realized he had to have heard her talking to Belle. God he must think she was such an idiot! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Pulling her phone from her pocket, Emma couldn’t think to do anything but call her friends. She pressed a random number of speed dial, and when Ruby answered Emma finally broke down. It took all of three seconds for Ruby to realize something was wrong, and she immediately went into protective friend mode. “Emma where are you? Just tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”

Emma looked and saw that she’d walked in the direction of one of the city’s oldest diners, and it appeared to be open despite the holiday. Ruby told her to get inside and out of the cold and promised to be there in ten minutes. She was there in five, and with her were Emma’s other friends, all looking just as worried and ready to do whatever it took to help her.

“Oh Emma, what happened?” Belle said, coming immediately to sit with her in her booth and Emma buried her face in her hands begging herself silently not to cry as she tried to tell her friends the story.

“He knew this whole time about the letter. He found it, Belle. He had it for weeks.”

“A letter?” Mary Margaret asked. “What letter? And who is ‘he?’”

Emma swallowed down her pride, filling the rest of the friends in about what she’d done and how she’d crafted a letter that spelled out everything that she wanted for her future and in a partner. She told them about how she’d felt alone and how she’d wanted that to change more than anything. She even admitted that despite the fact that it was silly and ridiculous, it was her Christmas wish. Then she told them about how she lost the letter, and explained that she found it again in Killian’s house just moments ago.

“So what exactly are you upset about?” Elsa asked, not trying to be mean, but genuinely trying to understand what would have triggered Emma so fiercely. “Is it the fact that he read it, or the fact that he didn’t tell you?”

“Both. I mean I knew this was too good to be true. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and here it is.”

“But is it really so bad, Emma?” Belle asked sincerely. “So he read your letter? So what? He still wants you anyway. I think he truly wants to be the man that you were writing to. He loves you, Emma. He just made a mistake in not telling you about it.”

“You really believe that, Belle? You think he loves me?” Emma asked, her voice breaking as she tried to choke the words out. God she wanted them to be true, but she just couldn’t trust it. Not after everything she had been through. “He was just messing with me. He probably read that letter and thought I was an easy mark or something. Just some sad, lonely girl to spend some time with.”

“Oh bull shit!” Ruby exclaimed, causing all the friends to gasp and then go varying degrees of slack-jawed. “You know that’s not true, Emma. That’s your fear talking. You’re better than this.”

“Ruby,” Mary Margaret said, trying to get their friend to calm down a bit but Ruby shook her head.

“No, I’m not going to sit here and watch you cave to your past, Ems. We all know you’ve been hurt before. We get it, and God knows that it hasn’t been fair or easy. But Killian is not those other guys. He’s not out to hurt you. He would do anything not to. And yeah it sounds like he fucked up with this letter, obviously he should have told you that he had it if you’re certain that he knew it was yours, but you’re everything to him. Everything.”

“You can’t know that, Ruby,” Emma said, even though she was hoping so hard that her friend’s claims were true. Deep down she knew Killian wasn’t a bad man. The man she knew and had fallen in love with was kind and good. He did his best by everyone, and he looked at her like she was, in fact, everything. Still it was hard to imagine that could be real, and this secret that he’d kept for whatever reason was her perfect way out. A lifetime of running had prepped her for this, and instinct demanded that she get out while she still could, even if it meant breaking her heart in the process.

“Hell if I can’t! You don’t propose to someone you’re just ‘messing with’ Emma.”

“Wait, what?” Emma asked, shocked at the word and for the first time Ruby looked stricken. Her friend had said too much, but there was no going back now. That word rang around in Emma’s head, and she knew she wouldn’t stop until she knew everything.

“Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“No, you weren’t,” Elsa said with a sigh and Emma looked to her friend for clarification, silently pleading with Elsa to make all of this more clear. “But now that it’s out there… Killian told Liam that you’re the one last night Emma. When you guys came for dinner, they talked, and Liam said he’s never seen his brother like this before. Killian plans to propose Emma. I don’t know when, I think soon after the holidays, but they were talking and…”

“And Killian told Liam that he was going to give you his mother’s ring,” Mary Margaret said, filling in.

“He said that?” Emma whispered. Her mind almost not believing something like this could be true, even though she wished it was so desperately. Emma and Killian had only been dating for a short while, but she knew of Killian’s love for his mother, and she had to imagine that if he was planning to trust her with such a precious family heirloom, then he was also truly trusting her with all his heart and soul.

“Yeah,” Ruby said, reaching across the table to take Emma’s hand. “I’m sorry for being harsh, but it’s like I said: he loves you. So whatever happened with the letter, it can’t be as bad as you’re thinking. You have to give him the chance to explain, and you have to try and believe that you, Emma Swan, aren’t just some ‘lonely girl’ to humor for a while. You’re a catch, and he’s damn lucky to have you.”

All of her friends echoed Ruby’s statement, and Emma felt more tears pooling in her eyes. It was sweet of them to say that, and though she knew all of that rationally, it was easy for her to underestimate herself. Good things were so rare in her life for so long, and the way that Killian made her feel was so much better than good. It was otherworldly, almost like magic, and she was terrified that it might not last or be completely genuine. But it wasn’t anything that Killian had really done that made her quick to believe that. It was her own personal baggage, and Emma had to deal with that instead of closing herself off and building up walls.

“I shouldn’t have just run like that,” Emma said, her words sounding hollow and sad as she said them aloud. She was disappointed in herself and in her choice to not hear Killian out and confront this head on. “In the letter I promised I would stay and that my running days were over.”

Technically the letter was a promise to a man Emma would one day love, and it hadn’t been specifically addressed to Killian, but there was no denying anymore that Killian was that person. Though things had happened so quickly between them, she’d already felt like she was in this with him. Even without the details of an impending proposal or his saying she was the one. Emma’s instincts had been telling her to trust this man, to choose him and to let herself fall in love. So why hadn’t she just allowed herself to do that? Why did she bolt at the first sign of trouble the same way she always did?

“Well, it’s not too late. You might have run, but you can always go back. I mean it’s Christmas for God’s sake. If there was ever a time for forgiveness, it’s now.”

Emma thought on that for a moment, and she realized that Belle was right. They’d both messed up, and honestly that was normal. People weren’t perfect, and sometimes they did the wrong thing. But she was willing to work and to fight to make this better, and she had to believe that Killian would be too. With that realization in hand, Emma was anxious to find him again, and to say sorry for her part in all of this. As if they could read her mind, her friends all rose, giving her final hugs and well wishes as she grabbed her jacket and headed out the door. She felt the crisp, cold air, and the subtle shift in the wind, watching as a flurry of snowflakes began falling from the sky, and then she turned to head back to Killian’s and she froze – seeing the man she’d been trying to get back to already here waiting for her.

The picture he made, waiting outside for her as the snow started falling in this historic part of the city, was like something from a dream. He was under one of those antique lanterns, the ones that had been in this city for hundreds of years, and that glowed a perfect golden hue that she’d always seen as romantic and beautiful. Emma swore that time stood still, and when their eyes met it was impossible to have that same fear she was grappling with before. Killian was hiding nothing from her in this moment. There was a little regret, but mostly there was relief at finding her and an undeniable love that shone through. That love propelled Emma forward, bringing her across the street to where he was, as he moved closer too, meeting her with eyes only for her and none of their surroundings. They were lost in each other, and though there was so much still to say, Emma’s heart filled with hope that they could make it through this trying moment.

“Killian… you’re here. How did you find me?”

“My brother. He was with Elsa when he left and he picked up a few details. I immediately went there, and he saw that I would stop at nothing when it came to finding you and seeing you were safe.”

“I’m sorry, Killian,” Emma confessed in a rush, the apology coming out in a huff of air that could be seen in the winter night between them. “I know I shouldn’t have run. I promised I wouldn’t and… well, I’m just so sorry.”

“I’ll be begging your forgiveness for a number of things tonight, Emma, but first forgive me for not remembering that promise. When did you say that? It’s hard to imagine I’d forget such a moment.”

“I said it in the letter,” Emma said, wondering why he wouldn’t recall something that was so prominently featured, and then she watched as a mixed expression came to his face. On the one hand he looked relieved that there was a reason for her apology, but on the other he was stricken, likely for keeping his knowledge of her private words a secret.

“I should have told you I had it immediately, love. It was wrong of me to keep it from you, but you see, I never actually read your words. At least not beyond the introduction.”

“You didn’t?” Emma asked, completely thrown off by that, but finding after the initial shock that she wasn’t actually that surprised. This was Killian, after all, and she had never known him to be nosy or invasive. If anything he’d been a patient man, and he’d always let her set the pace for things between them.

“No, Swan. I wanted to keep reading. Your greeting intrigued me, and I can’t deny that, but I knew it was yours. I watched it fall that morning in the bakery, and I tried to get it back to you but…” he trailed off and scratched behind his ear absentmindedly, a sign that he was uncomfortable. Despite the intense feelings she had, Emma couldn’t help but want to smile at that. Killian was always good looking, but this slight bashfulness had a way of warming her up inside. She took a half step closer without thinking as he continued his confession. “I heard you with Belle, and you were so mortified about all of it. Then the incident with Leroy happened, and it never felt like the right time. I know I should have just come out and said it, but all I could think was that I finally had the chance to ask you out, and I couldn’t risk you saying no because of some words I never actually read.”

“And were you ever going to tell me?” Emma asked, needing to know, because she hated the thought that he would have kept it a secret from her. That didn’t sit well with Emma, but Killian’s adamant nod as he took her hands in his convinced her that that was always his intention.

“Aye, love. I was going to mention it tonight, actually. It’s why it was out in the study at all. I hated to think of doing it, especially at Christmas, but I knew I had to have the full truth out there before I told you that I love you. You deserve nothing less.”

“You love me?” Emma asked, her eyes going wider and her heart fluttering madly in her chest. Killian realized too late that he’d told her of his love accidentally, and not in the way that he originally planned, but he regrouped quickly, bringing one of her hands up to kiss gently, and fighting off the cold of the night with his warm, soft lips.

“I do. I love you wholly and completely, Emma. And I know it’s fast, far faster than rational people would think normal or right, but I can’t help it, and I wouldn’t even if I could. I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you, and I want so much more than just this moment. This isn’t a passing fancy or a fling or anything of the like. It’s real, Emma. More real than words could ever sa-,”

Knowing that everything Killian was confessing to her was honest and sweet and sincere, Emma couldn’t hold back anymore. She stepped into his embrace, pulling him down for a kiss and trying to show him that not only did she forgive him, but she loved him as well. His musings on things being too fast was a valid one. There was no denying that this had all happened very quickly, but as he’d said earlier in the evening, sometimes when you know, you just know. And with Killian Emma knew that this was a once in a lifetime kind of love.

Breaking away from their kiss was something Emma did reluctantly, but there was still so much that needed to be said. Making up and moving on would come soon enough, but in this moment she had to be a little bit vulnerable and speak the whole truth exactly as she felt it. “I love you too. Fast or not, I know this is a forever kind of thing, and I’m not willing to doubt it anymore just because it’s not what’s normally done.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, love, because forever is exactly what I’m hoping for.” Killian made the vow as his thumb ran across her cheek as he stared at her adoringly. Emma could by no means read minds, but in this moment his thoughts clicked as her own. She knew he was thinking about the future, about marriage and kids and all that a life together would likely hold in store. She could see how much he wanted that, and it mirrored her own yearning.

“So… do you think we can put it behind us and get back to that magical Christmas we had going?”

“Oh it’s magical is it?” Killian teased and Emma felt herself blushing even as she rolled her eyes, loving it when Killian wrapped her up in himself closer and she could feel the reverberation of his laughter. “It is magical, Emma. It’s more than that, and so yes, I would very much like to go back to that.”

So with that understanding between them, and with their hands locked together as they made their way to their Christmas plans and to their friends and family, Killian and Emma put the past behind them. They chose to move forward, starting a story together built on love, light, and yes, a little bit of magic. And in the end, it was exactly the kind of story that anybody would dream of, filled with many highs and only minimal downs, and which ended in hard fought and well earned happily ever after.

Post-Note: So there we have it. Part of me wishes I could have lingered a bit longer in this story, but I promised myself I wouldn’t get too deep or go too over the top, but that being said there’s still a little epilogue coming around New Years. Anyway, I would love to see what you all thought and thank you so so much for reading. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a happy holidays, and thanks for making this fandom such a fun, special world to be a part of!

[kapanbenernya]

Path of Exile -- Daddy Diablo’s Little Hellspawn

 Do you remember Diablo? If you're a guy that's been playing the PC when LAN was still the best method to play together since the internet is still an undependable piece of shit it was before puberty hit it hard and turned it into digital cocaine, you probably do. That's right, how can you forget about Blizzo's isometric dungeon crawler? I still remember my first hit of Diablo II, it was in the computer lab of my middle school. I never tried it again since until my college days, when me and my 3 friends basically rushed through the story in 3 days straight, all while cramped together in a 3 x 4 metres room. I'll spare you the gnarly details, but one of them involved laying my legs on the bathroom floor just to make some room.

So, um, let me change the topic here: Do you LIKE Diablo? Well if you remember it and are still playing it's sequels to this day, I'd say you do. And you know who else likes Diablo?

These guys!

That's right, they like Diablo so much they made their own Diablo. They cloned Diablo, mutated its genes and gave birth to their own brand of grindy isometric RPG: Path of Exile and Torchlight, respectively. 

I've actually played Torchlight before, the first and the second. The first one was very simple: 1 town, 2 pets, 3 classes, and like, a billion enemies. The second one was more fleshed out with more towns, more classes, but I didn't like it as much as the first. I liked the first one because it doesn't try to emulate Diablo that much. It's got a more laid back cartoony style, which sets it apart from the competition because it's always demonic horrors with these kind of games. Don't wanna swing too far from under Daddy Diablo's hairy ballsack, eh guys?

That's about all I can say about Torchlight, so let's change gears and finally talk about Path of Exile.

Story is, you are a criminal of some sort in a city that seems to be filled exclusively by pompous assholes, and your sentence is --you guessed it-- being the person that rubs the King's left ballsack until it shines. Of course you fucking don't, it's exile. You are sent away into the wilderness before you stain all the marble and rugs with your filthy criminal hands. So on your way. the boat you are sent on shipwrecks because God feels like karma's been to slow these days and he wants to take control once in a while. You then awaken in the land of Wraeclast, filled to the brim with criminals, monsters, and other undesirables you might think of. And so begins your journey to find your path. As an exile. The Path of Exile, if you will (BOOM TITLE DROP). 

And that's about all the story you need. For the rest of them, you can make an effort and click on the NPCs. If you do want to bother yourself by reading all the flavor text you can access in the game, you will actually find a quite decent story of the city, the culture, their gods and progenitors, and why everything is fucked the way it is now. I personally couldn't be bothered because I know it’s going to be the same shit over and over again. In fact, let me summarize everything for you, the plot is basically "Everything's gone to shit, there’s demons everywhere, oh God somebody do something”. That's my mantra for the story of Diablo, and it works fine enough with PoE. Now let's talk mechanics

I promise you, this is where the section where the game shines anyway

Now I'm not gonna go into the details here because almost everyone knows the general mechanics of isometric RPGs: you click around to move, attack, use skills, pickup items, drop items, initiate conversations, end conversations, open loot, pay respects, and so much more. What I'm going to discuss is the one thing that I think is the unique selling point of PoE, which is the Skill Gems. In PoE, the skills are not tied to your class or level or any skill tree, it's tied only to the aforementioned skill gem. To equip a skill, you have put the skill gem into a socket in the equipment in accordance to their color: red, green, or blue. So if you happen to unequip an item with a skill gem, the skill becomes inactive and you can't use it. To me, this is a game changer since it changes the way you look at weapons and armors from the old traditional way. The old way was that the higher the number equals better weapon or armor and usually it's the one you want. But in PoE, this might not be the case since the skill system is tied to the equipment. And here comes the part where you have to think hard. Let's say you found some cool new bling to wear with higher numbers than the one you have, so naturally you wanna equip it right away, right? But what about the gem slots? The colors? The gem links? Does it accomodate your build? How about element resistances? Is it an armor armor or an evasion armor? It makes you choose between the mystic plate mail made out of virgin tears with a measly single slot or the plain white T-shirt with 6 linked slots. It's like making you consider going out in a Lamborghini that'll turn all the ladies' heads or a minivan because it can fit more whores.

While you're thinking about that, let me give you another headache: the passive skill tree.

Intimidating, isn’t it?

This is the reason why I decided against playing the game when I first heard about it from my friend. I can’t give you the numbers because I couldn’t find the total number of all the passive skills on the internet. And I think it’s a testament to how utterly ridiculous it is! I mean the internet’s got all kinds of information, so the fact that the total number isn’t available means that no one can be bothered to count them all. And you know that internet nerds would do anything just to get any semblance of productivity and sense of self-worth. Oh whatever, it’s not the numbers I’m here to talk to you about, because in the long run the numbers aren’t important. The important one is the passive build. If you’re not familiar, a build in RPG is kind of like a template or a preset that you plan in accordance to how you want your character to be. Or in other words, building your character. In the case of Path of Exile, your build is about taking the right passive skills that supports the active skills you want to use. Now that you know what a build is, here’s an advice to save you from tears: pick a build before you play. Well ok, maybe you’re a veteran RPG player or you just wanna go in blind and improvise (like me), but how about you think again? There are about 100+ passive skill nodes you can take from the God-knows-how-many are available, not to mention the active skills you’d want to use. I mean the numbers alone are terrifying, how about the synergy between the passives and the actives? What if you want to change your active skills and the passives are no longer compatible? Should you take the health node or an offensive node? How about the special nodes that grants you unique abilities? Would you like to invest in the socket node that buffs your skill gem?

OH GOD OH LORD MAKE IT STOP

So far I've listed the mechanics and the happenings of the game. So here's the last thing on my checklist before I draw my conclusion: do I enjoy it? 

Well, here's the part where it starts going sideways.

On my playthrough, of course I decide to go at it with my friend, since these dungeon crawlers are kind of made to be played that way. My friend told me to search for a build guide, but I decided I'm gonna be a brave boy and go blind on this character. For a while, we journeyed together, slayed together, get slayed together, and fought over the loot together. Then I went offline for several days and came back to find my friend had continued grinding for those days. The power gap had become too much of a difference to the point he coudn't flex his arms without a monster dying somewhere in the vicinity, and that's already after the party nerf. Turns out the stat nerf doesn't mean that much shit when he's already got most of the endgame skill jewels. So there I was just picking up the loot while he's busy mowing down the enemies. The most helpful thing I could do was cast a debuff spell to curse the enemies (as if they aren't helpless enough already). And it is in that moment that I thought to myself, "How am I anymore useful than the golem following his ass around?". It is at that moment where I stopped taking the game and its fancy ass skill tree seriously and just go at it for shits and giggles.

But of course, being a credible man of high-credibility and redundancy, it would be unfair to judge the game based on my experience with my friends. I mean how would I know that my friend didn't ruin the game for me? He turned me into a vestigial golem for fuck's sake, and I'd bet your ass that wasn't the intended game experience! (I mean maybe, I didn't check if there's a fucking build for that). I went off to set out on a lonely journey of my own; alone and without any companions 

ok I'll stop with the redundancy thing, I promise

So I made a new character to test out the game unhindered by my friends only to have it backfire on me because after half an hour of playing alone, all I can feel is the grind. I mean it made sense, at least when I'm with my friends I can still chat and crack jokes with each other. Take the social aspect away and in comes the grind, just like real life.

So finally I gave up on the new character and I'm about to give up on the game entirely. Or at least that was the plan until my friend suggested to take a look at my sloppily made character. 10 mins after he looked at my build, he told me that I got a lot of things wrong and that I'm a fucking waste of human life. He then proceeds to tell me which passives to get, which skills to throw away, and gave me his hand-me-downs. Afterwards, I took my optimized guy for a test drive, and I found out that he performs a lot better than before. And that's when the game feels great for me. No longer am I dead after I brushed elbows with a monster, and no longer do I have to spend 3 minutes to clear a normal enemy mob. It turned my dungeon crawl into my dungeon one way bullet train to Funtown. The grind feels less grindy, and that's about all I can ask for because I'm starting to enjoy the game proper. Or at least that was the case until I beat the final boss and my friends introduced me to the endgame content. I went in confident as hell, and I ended up getting 1 hit-KO’d once more. No. That’s too much. This has been an uphill struggle from the start and now that I’ve reached the peak, my reward is another mountain to scale. So no thanks buddies, I’m fully content with THIS mountain peak, it’s a good enough place for me to throw myself off the cliff.

In Brief

There's no easier way for me to summarize PoE. It always goes back to the Diablo comparison, so the conclusion is: if you like Diablo, I'm 90% sure that you'll like this one. The other 10% however depends solely on your tastes, and the differences lie in the skill gems and the passive tree which is the 2 things that defines PoE. Here's the cliffsnotes to help you with your decision so you can get on your way. If you think Diablo is too simple and you want a creative challenge in creating a build that feels unique to you, go get PoE. If you like Diablo as is and you think that the skill gem and passive tree appeals only to maniacs whose wrists should be broken with pipe wrenches for their own good, I'd suggest you buy an expensive mobile phone and keep your credit card nearby.

The one thing I learnt from this is that it's all about optimisation. It's either you go all-in and find the best build, skill, and equips or you'd better off not playing the game at all, because all that's left is the grind and pain. And fuck me if grind and pain is what passes for fun these days. Cause if it does, then I fear for the humans of the future and how they're gonna have to find a way to eat spaghetti with their ball-gag still on.

15/4/2019

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip Part 11/? - Temptation Part 12/? - An Awful Reunion Part 13/? - Unreality Intrudes Part 14/? - A Call for Help Part 15/? - Loki’s Guests Part 16/? - Stan Lee Cameo Part 17/? - Reassessment Part 18/? - Midnight Invasion Part 19/? - Elevator Fight Part 20/? - Courage Part 21/? - Unwelcome Back Part 22/? - Darkest Hour Part 23/? - They Are Here Part 24/? - The Jet Propulsion Laboratory Part 25/? - Word of God Part 26/? - Avengers Assembled Part 27/? - The Houston Underground Part 28/? - Houston has a Problem Part 29/? - Onward and Upward Part 30/? - The Chi’Tauri Queen Part 31/? - Through the Wormhole Part 32/? - Prisoners Part 33/? - Arm’s Length Part 34/? - A Moment’s Respite Part 35/? - Ravagers to the Rescue Part 36/? - What Happened to Hiddleston Part 37/? - Haven Part 38/? - Steve Has a Terrible Idea Part 39/? - Can’t Be Choosers Part 40/? - Stan Lee Cameo Redux Part 41/? - Shipjacking

Time to get the Leviathan back.

There was one more person whose consent they needed before they went ahead with this.  Steve turned to Musa.  “I like to give people a choice when I can,” he said – although the Watcher was right, he wasn’t giving one to anybody else.  “Do you…”

“I’m coming with you guys,” she said.  “I get the idea that’s going to be the safest place to be.  And if I can help save the universe while I’m at it, bonus!”

Steve suspected she had no idea what she was getting into, but he decided not to turn her down.  They were therefore officially a party of ten as they passed through the broad metal arch into the port area.  Upon arrival, of course they found another problem.  The crystal captain had let some of his men go on shore leave, but he’d also assigned a group to watch the Leviathan.  There were around a dozen of them with weapons in their hands, glaring at anybody who got too close to the two parked vehicles that Steve decided to call ‘dinghies’.  The Leviathan was their prize loot, and they weren’t going to let anyone lay a finger on it.

The group ducked behind a row of vending machines – at least one of which was bumping back and forth as if its contents were not happy about their situation – to plan.  “Now what?” asked Evans.

Steve glanced out at the guards.  They were all large and fairly intimidating specimens of whatever they were.  If he’d had a shield to throw, he could have taken a few of them out at a distance, but they definitely weren’t a group he’d have wanted to take on alone, or with inexperienced help.  “How about lightning?” he asked, looking at Hemsworth.

“Too showy,” was Nat’s analysis.

“I don’t know if I want to use that on a space station anyway,” Hemsworth agreed.  “I don’t want to fry the life support or something.”

Both good points.  Steve leaned to peek out from behind the vending machine with the struggling cargo.  The Leviathan was in the next docking bay up… and between them and it was the Ravager ship. Only one person appeared to be guarding that one.

He turned back to his companions.  “Okay, I think I have another idea,” he said.  “This time, it might actually be a good idea.”  It was admittedly based on something he’d seen in a movie, and the movie had featured old-fashioned sailing ships instead of spacecraft, but it was something the Ravagers would definitely not be expecting.  He told the others what he had in mind, and this time he was pleased to see Natasha smiling.

“Good idea?” he asked hopefully.

“No, still a Steve idea,” she said.  “But you’re learning.”

While the rest of them continued to hide behind the vending machines, the Watcher put an arm around Musa’s waist and staggered up to the Leviathan guards as if drunk.  “Hey, boyos!” he called out cheerfully.  “Yo ho ho and a bottle of Uvan!  I got me some booty!”  He gave Musa a smack on the bottom.

She squeaked, then laughed.  “Oh, you!” she said, pinching the Watcher’s cheek.

“I thought I’d give her a tour,” the Watcher went on, grinning at the Ravagers.  “She’s never been inside a Leviathan, have you, dear?”

“Nope!” Musa shook her head.

The Watcher cupped a hand around his mouth as if to say something in secret, but when he spoke it was in a stage-whisper, loud enough for everyone to hear.  “She’s never had a Leviathan inside her, either, but she’s about to find out!”  He then brayed with laughter, as if this were the funniest joke in the world. Musa joined in, giggling like a madwoman.

The Ravagers were not amused.  “We picked you up in the Chi’Tauri brig, didn’t we?” asked the biggest of them, a beige-skinned thing with big curling horns like a ram. “You’re not a member of our crew.”

“You swore me in!” the Watcher whined.

While the guards were thus distracted, Steve and the others ran for the platform under the Ravager ship.  The hatch in the bottom was open with the end of the gangplank touching the dock, and a stocky grayish man with no neck was sitting there, reading a magazine with a tentacled creature on the cover.  Finding himself surrounded, he reached for his gun, but by the time he touched it Evans had already touched it.

There was only gravity in part of the docking area – below the walkways there was none, and the lower half of the docking area was full of junk just floating around.  They pushed the unconscious guard off the platform to join it, and hurried up the gangplank into the ship.

In the cockpit they found another crew member. This one looked rather like a humanoid shrimp, but one leg from the hip and the other from the knee had been replaced with high-tech prosthetics.  The creature appeared to be napping when they walked in, but quickly woke up and he, too, reached for a weapon.  Hemsworth grabbed him by the face and zapped him, and his robotic parts sparked and smoked as he crumpled to the floor.

They pitched the shrimp-cyborg out the door, and Steve sat down in the pilot’s chair.  It was slightly sticky.

“Okay,” he said, looking at the controls and instruments.  “I… is there any particular reason we’ve decided that I’m the expert on flying alien spaceships?” he asked his companions.

“You did okay with the Leviathan,” Nat reminded him.

“Loki or I could do it,” Thor said, “but I thought your plan required flying it badly.”

That was true… they wanted the Ravagers to think the ship would be easily re-taken.  “All right, then,” said Steve.  He inserted a hand into a floating metal circle, and tilted it back, expecting that the ship would go up.

Instead, it went down.  The nose bounced off the dock, and two of the vending machines fell over.  The one that had been moving broke open, and a number of rust-coloured millipede-like creatures began quickly scrambling away.

It may have not been what Steve intended, but the accident certainly did get attention.  The Ravagers stopped arguing with Musa and the Watcher and ran to try to stop him.  One jumped onto the gangplank, which Steve hadn’t bothered to retract, while a couple more leaped onto the wings.  Steve quickly moved his hand in the opposite direction, and the ship jerked sharply up to bang into some hanging girders.  The pirate who’d run up the gangplank fell and was left floating helplessly among the garbage below the docks.

Through the windshield, Steve saw the remaining Ravager guards pulling out communications devices or moving to try to rescue their crewmates who had fallen or were still clinging to the outside of the ship. Musa and the Watcher, meanwhile, boarded a dinghy and got it started, dipping down below the Leviathan to dock.

The controls of the Ravager ship were far more delicate than those of the Leviathan, but Steve managed to guide the former ship over towards the latter in a series of awkward lurches.  They were nearly right above it when a large, slimy-looking pirate climbed onto the windshield and banged on it with one fist, before pulling out the largest energy rifle Steve had seen yet and preparing to fire it right through the glass.

“Allow me,” said Thor.  He reached over Steve’s shoulder and pushed a button, ejecting the co-pilot’s seat.  The window pale blew off and the seat flew out, taking the slimy creature with it.

They were right over the Leviathan now.  “Okay!” Steve ordered.  “Everybody out!”

He kept the ship in place as best he could while the others climbed out the window and made the precarious drop onto the Leviathan’s heaving back.  Evans nearly fell, but Johansson grabbed his hands and pulled him up again.  Thor wouldn’t let Loki do it alone, and insisted Hemsworth carry him – Loki protested loudly even as Hemsworth lifted him off his feat and leaped out the window.  Thor and Natasha went last, making the jump mere moments before another Ravager threw the cockpit door open.

Steve saw this happen in the reflection on the remaining window glass, and had just enough warning to duck down into the space in front of the seat.  The pirate opened fire, and bullets – actual bullets, not energy pulses – shattered the remaining window glass and hit the control panel.  Sparks went up.  The chair Steve had been sitting in was torn off its base and fell to the side, and the entire ship tilted forward as its control systems failed.

Because he was firing projectiles, the pirate had to stop to re-load.  Steve seized that moment to stand up and give the fallen chair a kick.  It didn’t go flying like it would have if he’d had his normal strength, but it did go tumbling towards the Ravager, who had to move out of the way.  Steve then climbed out the window, only to realize that since the ship was drifting forwards and down, the Leviathan was now behind them.  He jumped over the windshield, just barely made it, and began climbing the steeply tilted hull towards the tail.

Halfway there, another pirate appeared in his way. This one was a turtly-looking thing with spotted skin and a great deal of natural armor.  It took a swing and Steve rolled out of the way, only to roll right off the side of the ship and have to grab at one of its aerodynamic fins to keep from falling.  His legs dangled over the junk-filled space below the docks.  When he looked to the right, the cockpit of the Ravager ship was now on fire, and the pirate with the projectile gun was bailing out before it could crash into the wall.  When he looked up, the turtle pulled out a very large, multi-pronged sword and prepared to bring it down on Steve’s head.

The only thing he could do was let go.

He only fell about ten feet before he was snatched out of the air by Musa, riding one of the dinghies.  “Gotcha!” she said brightly, and angled up, towards the Leviathan. The others were already inside.

“Thanks,” Steve panted.

“No problem,” she said.  “Christine says you’re in his body and he wants it back.”

They docked with the Leviathan, and scrambled up the tube into the Leviathan’s sinuous interior.  “I got him!  I got him!” Musa shouted, as they hurried towards the cockpit.

Steve couldn’t see out, but he could feel the motion as whoever was at the controls turned sharply and headed not for the airlock, but straight for the wall.  He climbed the ladder to the cockpit – it was so good to be able to do that without pain! – and was just in time to see people on the floor hurrying towards the exits or activating spacesuits that appeared to be made out of bubble wrap.  A moment later, they were no longer visible, and Thor pushed the controls forwards to pick up speed as they hit the wall and crashed right through.  The atmosphere rushed out, and immediately froze into an enormous cloud of glittering microscopic ice crystals.

“We made it!” exclaimed Musa, clapping her hands in delight.  “That was fun!”

The gravity had vanished the moment they left the station, and everyone was now floating again.  Four in the cockpit had been fine, eight was too many, and ten was a crush – ten drifting around in midair instead of standing on the floor seemed downright dangerous.  Steve caught a handle on the ceiling and cleared his throat.

“Okay,” he said.  “Time for phase two.  Essential personnel only.”

“We have a phase two?” asked Johansson.

“I think he means we’re back to following the first plan,” said Natasha.  “He’s not very organized.”

“Watcher, you have to stay here to deliver the message,” said Steve.  “Everybody else, either out of the cockpit or out of sight, we don’t want to give them any sort of hint that it’s a trick.  You too, Musa,” he added.

The actors climbed down out of sight. Natasha hunkered below the control panel and Steve, Loki, and Thor lurked in the tubes so that they could each give signals and cues to the Watcher as he delivered the message.  The watcher, his long mustaches floating on the air currents, activated the communications screen and let it enlarge in front of him.  For a moment there was nothing but static, but then a Chi’Tauri in a complicated helmet, marking it as of greater rank than the soldiers they’d dealt with so far, appeared.  Behind it they could see a room the size of a cathedral, with vaults and pillars and crystalline windows casting glittering lights over the walls and floor – except that where the proportions of a cathedral were based on mathematical proportions the human eye fund beautiful, this looked all wrong, alien and off-balance. Sitting in the middle of it, with a dozen tinier creatures crawling all over her and tending to her electrical burns, was the immense four-armed queen.

[eviltessmacher]

Fourteen Points to consider...

1. Powerful and Continuing Nationalism -

Certain political groups tend to make constant use of patriotic mottos, slogans, symbols, songs, and other paraphernalia. Flags are seen everywhere, as are flag symbols on clothing and in public displays. To oppose the political power that utilizes these symbols is to be labeled subversive, unpatriotic, and treasonous.

2. Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights -

Because of fear of enemies and the need for security, the people in fascist regimes are persuaded that human rights can be ignored in certain cases because of "need." The people tend to look the other way or even approve of torture, summary executions, assassinations, long incarcerations of prisoners, etc.

3. Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause -

The people are rallied into a unifying patriotic frenzy over the need to eliminate a perceived common threat or foe: racial , ethnic or religious minorities; liberals; communists; socialists, terrorists, etc.

4. Supremacy of the Military -

Even when there are widespread domestic problems, the military is given a disproportionate amount of government funding, and the domestic agenda is neglected. Soldiers and military service are glamorized. Speaks for itself. Nearly 57% of the Federal Budget goes to Defense spending, while a little less than 9% goes to domestic programs and safety-net programs like SNAP, and UI.

5. Rampant Sexism -

Governments consisting of certain political groups tend to be almost exclusively male-dominated. Under these types of governments, traditional gender roles are made more rigid. Opposition to abortion is high, as is homophobia and anti-gay legislation and national policy to strip the civil rights of homosexuals. Reproductive choice, pay-equality, women's rights, and other issues important to women are frequently opposed, such as abortion in the case of rape or incest. Only one woman in the RepubliCON caucus holding a chair of a committee, and then only after it was pointed out that they were all rich, old, white men. Look at the leadership in Congress, and it looks like a banker's convention. As does any RNC convention.

6. Controlled Mass Media -

  Sometimes to media is directly controlled by the government, but in other cases, the media is indirectly controlled by government regulation, or sympathetic media spokespeople and executives. Censorship, especially in wartime, is very common. Media outlets controlled by these certain groups are often misleading in their publications or broadcasts, with a slant that is intentionally designed to propagandize and manipulate the population.

7. Obsession with National Security -

  Fear is used as a motivational tool by the government over the masses. "If you oppose this, you are committing treason, and inviting terrorists from all over the world to strike at a weakened America!"  - George W. Bush speaking on behalf of the Patriot Act. “America First” as has been pointed out by several foreign media outlets, is a Fascist code having been created by American pro-Nazi groups in the early 1930s.

8. Religion and Government are Intertwined -

  Governments in nations led by these certain ideologies tend to use the most common religion in the nation as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Religious rhetoric and terminology is common from government leaders, even when the major tenets of the religion are diametrically opposed to the government's policies or actions. The Greedy Obstructionist Plutocratic conservitards painting themselves as religious, moral, family value oriented, and the only party that puts God first. The Baptist and Fundamentalist churches in this country are full of RepubliCONs... Drive by a wealthy neighborhood church on Sunday and note the GOP bumper stickers.

9. Corporate Power is Protected -

  The industrial and business aristocracy of a fascist nation often are the ones who put the government leaders into power, creating a mutually beneficial business/government relationship and power elite. Taxes for corporations are frequently reduced or in some cases eliminated, and corporations are often granted rights that individual citizens were intended to enjoy. In other cases, the right of Eminent Domain is abused, disguised as being intended for the "public good" The Koch Brothers. DAPL. That should say it all.

10.  Labor Power is Suppressed -

  Because the organizing power of labor is the only real threat to a fascist government, labor unions are either eliminated entirely, or are severely suppressed. Wisconsin, Michigan, all of the Southern Red States being "Right to Work" (which means they can fire you for no reason, and you have no recourse)... Hmmm... I'm seeing a pattern here.

11.  Disdain for Intellectuals and the Arts -

  Nations dominated by certain political ideologies tend to promote and tolerate open hostility to higher education, and academia. It is not uncommon for professors and other academics to be censored or even arrested. Free expression in the arts is openly attacked, and governments often refuse to fund the arts. The National Endowment for the Arts and National Arts Council have suffered the biggest budget cuts in their collective histories under RepubliCON administrations, and are practically at the top of the list of Boehner and Ryan's "let's stick it to the poor folks" budget agenda. Do we even know everything they want to cut, besides NEA, PBS, and all the other Arts organizations. They hate intellectuals and academics, because they know an educated population trends to vote against them.

12.  Obsession with Crime and Punishment -

  Under the leadership of certain political ideologies, the police are given almost limitless power to enforce laws. The people are often willing to overlook police abuses and even forego civil liberties in the name of patriotism. There is often a national police force with virtually unlimited power in these nations. Hmmm... There's that pesky Patriot Act again. Department of Homeland Security anyone? How about the War on Drugs that has incarcerated millions of people (mostly minorities) for minor, non-violent offenses, while the wealthy get off lightly by claiming Affluenza...

13.  Rampant Cronyism and Corruption -

  Certain political ideologies that are in power, almost always consist of groups of friends and associates who appoint each other to government positions and use governmental power and authority to protect their friends from accountability. It is not uncommon for national resources and even treasures to be appropriated or even outright stolen by government leaders. Well, this one ought to be obvious.

14.  Fraudulent Elections -

  Sometimes elections are a complete sham. Other times elections are manipulated by smear campaigns against or even media assassination of opposition candidates, use of legislation to control voting numbers or political district boundaries, and manipulation of the media. Certain political ideologies also typically use their judiciaries to manipulate or control elections. Florida, 2004. Ohio, 2000. All of 2016. The four manufacturers of "electronic voting machines" were all huge contributors to Bush, McCain, Romney, and Trump over the last four presidential election cycles. This doesn't even begin to touch on all the new voter suppression laws that have been enacted in states recently. They claim it is to prevent Voter Fraud, but there have been no documented cases of said fraud at all, and there have been several studies that have shown that the poor and minorities are being disproportionately disenfranchised by these laws. If that doesn't scare you, then you need to move to another country.

 Any of this sound familiar?

 The Webster's New World Dictionary of the American Language, College Edition, defines fascism as :

"A system of government characterized by rigid one-party dictatorship, forcible suppression of the opposition (unions, other, especially leftist, parties, minority groups, etc), the retention of private ownership of the means of production under centralized governmental control, belligerent nationalism, sexism, and racism, the glorification and perpetuation of war, etc."

All fourteen of these are examples of the principles of Fascist governments.

Note the eerie similarity to the principles of the Greedy Obstructionist Plutocratic Conservitards....

One last thought:

The GOP only wants to do one thing: Divide you by giving you a target on which to blame your problems: The other party.

They use hateful labels designed to make you believe the Democrats are bad. They attack from behind patriotism, they have no empathy for the common man, and they state that the desire to see that everyone has a chance is "welfare mob mentality".

The GOP is only interested telling you who is to blame for your problems, and making you afraid of those problems. That’s how they win elections. They gather together a group of middle-aged, middle-class, middle-income voters who remember with longing an easier time, and they talk to them about family, morality, and American values. They don’t offer any real solutions, because they don’t have any to offer. They say whatever they think their audience wants to hear, so that they can garner a little bit of local support. They make comments designed to take advantage of groupthink, mob mentality, and social proof, to manipulate elections. They badmouth the other guy. They say that he's "destroying America" without giving ANY evidence or examples of it whatsoever, when in fact, they are the ones who are destroying the wealth and power of this nation, and they manipulate the facts to suit whatever it is that they're saying at the moment. They tell outright lies, half-truths, they spread rumours, and they try to convince the population that they're just regular people, when none of them know what it is like to walk into a grocery store knowing that they cannot spend more than $50, else they wouldn't be able to pay their electric bill.

Well, people… You can’t have it both ways. You cannot demand that Freedom of Speech only applies to you, and your opinions.  Freedom of Speech is when you can stand up and defend at the top of your voice, someone else standing up and screaming at the top of his or her voice, that which you would spend a lifetime opposing. You want Freedom of Speech? Then you better start defending MY right to state my opinions and beliefs, without interference, denigration, demeaning labels, or your vile disdain. Defend that. Instead of sniping and snarling at those of us who believe in a more fair, open, and equal government, why don't you find a way to fight against those who would disenfranchise you... Geez, it's not that difficult.