#INCOME TEX

[techvigya]

Income Tax Department

The Income Tax Department is a government agency responsible for administering and enforcing the income tax laws in India. Its primary role is to ensure that taxpayers comply with their tax obligations and that tax revenue is collected efficiently and effectively.

[poisonlove]

A macchiato, please | j.o

part 1

I'm finally home, wrapped in the familiar atmosphere only my apartment can provide. Tex, my affectionate German Shepherd, is my sole company at the moment.

"Hello, sweetheart," I whisper gently, bending down to pet his head as his tail wags happily, displaying pure joy.

"I know... you're hungry," I confirm with a resigned sigh, heading to the kitchen. I open a can of dog food and mix it carefully with the kibbles.

"Enjoy your meal!" I add with a shy smile as Tex starts to happily devour his food.

I toss the keys onto the table.

I was so tired that I decided to skip my usual nightly routine and went straight to bed. I fall onto the soft mattress, exhausted from the long day.

As I turn on my phone, the screen greets me with a notification that seems like a dream.

Jennaortega has started following you.

A thrill of excitement rushes through me.

"I can't believe it," I whisper to myself with a small smile, feeling as if I've won the lottery of luck.

Curious to know more about her, I access her profile, smiling at her beautiful close-up picture. Her bright, happy eyes convey an infectious vitality.

"Wow, 40 million followers," I thought incredulously. It was like stepping into a whole new world, filled with enthusiastic followers.

I smile as I see numerous comments filled with love and support for Jenna, carefully observing her latest post: she was inside a car, wearing headphones. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips; her brown eyes seem to gaze at me as if wanting to read my soul. Her slightly parted lips, her perfectly falling bangs... her posture so natural by the window told a story of freedom and carefreeness.

I follow her back.

With shyness and anxiety, I open the chat and look at Jenna Ortega's profile picture. "You can do this... just say hi," I murmur to myself, trying to muster some courage.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed the place I manage to write, my fingers trembling slightly. I send the message, feeling my heart race. I exit the chat, letting the adrenaline rush through my veins.

I wait anxiously, heart in my mouth, hoping for a response.

The minutes seem endless as the chat remains on standby. Then, suddenly, the phone emits a sound, indicating a new incoming message. The lit screen shows the name Jenna Ortega and a short but kind message: Hi! Yes, I really enjoyed the place, the atmosphere was truly cozy. Thanks!

A spontaneous smile spreads across my face. Is there something you're particularly passionate about? I write, hoping to make the conversation deeper and more interesting.

Jenna's response comes quickly: Mmmh... why this random question?

I nervously bite my lower lip. I don't know, I'd love to know something about you that the internet can't tell me I write honestly.

I involuntarily smile as Jenna puts a heart on my message. "In that case... I love art and culture, so I enjoy visiting museums and art galleries. And also nature, taking long walks in parks."

I feel an immediate connection, as I also loved long walks, especially with Tex, my loyal four-legged companion.

I decide to share this detail:

I also love taking long walks, especially with Tex, my German Shepherd. He's my faithful adventure companion!

Jenna seems to like the bond with the four-legged friend, and the conversation continues on this topic. We've found a common ground that makes the conversation more authentic and enjoyable.

How about we have a call? she suddenly asks.

I feel a thrill of excitement at the opportunity to hear her voice and get to know each other better.

I reply: I'd love to.

A few seconds later, Jenna's profile picture, a white light, appears.

I swallow and, sighing, I accept the call.

"Hey!" My voice trembles slightly, nervous.

Jenna softly laughs, making my heart beat uncontrollably.

"Hello," Jenna responds.

I can sense the smile she's wearing.

"How are you?" I ask and close my eyes at such a basic question.

"Good... just a bit tired," she comments shyly, letting out a small yawn.

My eyes glance at the alarm clock next to my bed, seeing that it's only 10:08 PM.

"Maybe... we talk tomorrow?" I ask worriedly, biting my lower lip.

My heart hammers rapidly in my chest.

"No... I enjoy talking to you," she confesses, and my cheeks flush.

I sigh in relief knowing she couldn't see my blush and smile widely, almost feeling a pain in my cheeks.

"Oh, well... I can say the same," I reply.

Jenna gently laughs, making me smile even more.

"Do you have any interviews tomorrow? Or have the recordings already started?" I ask curiously.

"Mmmh," Jenna murmurs, thoughtful, "I think we're meeting with Tim," she says almost hesitantly.

"Right, it's not certain they're shooting here," I murmur almost sadly.

"I have no idea... but it's very likely," she admits weakly.

An not uncomfortable silence envelops us.

"And tell me... you said you'd be meeting. Who's with you?" I ask with curiosity, clutching the sheets out of nervousness.

"Oh... let me think," Jenna murmurs, "I believe it's Percy and Emma," she admits.

"Emma?" I ask excitedly. "Enid?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"Yes..." she laughs softly at my enthusiasm.

"Do you know I ship them in Wednesday ?" I say excitedly. "Enid and wdenesday are so close and adorable!" I exclaim happily.

Jenna bursts into laughter.

"Maybe it'll be canon... who knows," she says in a sing-song tone.

"Come to think of it..." she begins. "Maybe one day I could introduce you to the cast," she proposes, and I open my mouth in surprise.

"You're not joking... really?" I ask, and she gently laughs at my excitement.

"Seriously, let's say it's a way to pay you back for the coffee," she murmurs, yawning.

My excitement grows as I talk about my passions, the books I love to read, and the places I like to visit in the city. But then, I notice Jenna murmuring timidly, almost incomprehensibly, not responding.

"Jenna, everything okay?" I ask worriedly, sensing something off in the air.

"Mmmh," Jenna responds even more timidly, as if wanting to hide something.

"Did you see the new movie talk to me?" I ask absentmindedly, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. "It was strange... I feel sorry for the guy, his face got messed up... but the ending... wow," I murmur absentmindedly, hoping to liven up the conversation.

I notice Jenna getting quieter and quieter, and worry grows inside me. "Am I... boring you?" I ask uncertainly, fearing I've made the conversation dull or tiresome for her.

"No," Jenna barely manages to respond, her voice weak and tired.

"I like your voice... keep going..." she affirms with a yawn, trying to encourage me to talk, but it's evident that fatigue is taking over.

Confused, I stutter in my thoughts, "What was I saying?" My mind is a bit foggy, and the fear of having bored her grows.

Jenna's steady breath makes me realize she has fallen asleep. I smile tenderly, knowing it's been a long day for her. Unfortunately, it's clear that tiredness has taken the lead, and I realize it's best to let her rest.

I gaze at the ceiling of my room, smiling.

"Goodnight, Jen," I whisper with a small smile, feeling the breath of the girl on the other end.

[bleucaesura]

STOLITZØ - MOMENTS

***Blitzø is still in the hospital for this bit. Post “I love you”s.***

“Hey… Loony?”

“Yeah?” Loona didn’t look up from scrolling on her phone.

“Totally weird question… But um…” Blitzø cleared his throat. “Did anyone ELSE visit me?”

He felt bad breaking the comfortable silence they’d been sharing. But he’d been stewing over this weird feeling for a while and he just needed to know.

“What do you mean?” Loona raised an eyebrow and peeked up from her phone.

“I mean like…” Blitzø averted his gaze and scratched his cheek. “Other than you guys? The M&Ms, Fizz and Oz, Stolas…”

Loona uncrossed her ankles, swung her legs off the bed and sat up.

“Ah…” She put her phone face down on the bed and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

Maybe I don’t wanna know the answer…

“So?” He said sheepishly.

“Uh…” Loona sat up straight and began absentmindedly smoothing out the sheets on the bed in front of her. “Yeah, actually.”

Blitzø’s stomach did a weird flip.

“…Who?” He swallowed hard.

“Well.” Loona paused. “I thought it was really weird. But Tex asked if I’d make sure the room was empty for like twenty minutes, so that Verosika could stop by… I thought he was shitting me… But no. She came.”

Blitzø felt like he was hearing her through a tunnel.

F*ck. How the f*ck did I know that?

Loona peeked over at Blitzø.

“I hope that’s ok?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” He said offhandedly. Blitzø felt weirdly numb, unsure what to say. “I mean I still have all my parts so she clearly didn’t do any damage, ha ha.”

“Mmm. Why’d you ask?” Loona raised an eyebrow.

“Huh? Oh…” Blitzø stammered, caught off guard. “I dunno. I feel like I had this weird dream that she visited.”

“Huh.” Loona picked up her phone and settled back into her chair and started scrolling. “That IS weird.”

***

“I’m going to get us all something to eat.” Stolas stood and squeezed Blitzø’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Blitzø watched Stolas swish out the door and smiled to himself.

Once he was sure Stolas was gone he turned to Loona and Octavia.

“Could I ask you girls a favour?”

Loona and Octavia looked up at Blitzø from their phones, eyebrows raised.

“I want you to find me something if you can. Probably at that weird store you both like so much.”

They both looked at him, confused.

“With the dead animals?”

“Stylish Occult,” they said in unison.

“Whatever,” he waved it off. “Here’s what I’d like you to get for me, if you can….”

***

Blitzø woke later to the sound of an incoming message. He reached over and groggily unlocked his phone.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked away the blurriness of sleep to find a message from Verosika. More accurately, a message of photos.

He opened the message.

The first photo was of a creepy plush jackalope, dressed up to look like Blitzø. Little jacket, boots and gloves.

Excellent craftsmanship. Five stars. Great job girls.

A little note was tied around its neck: “Hi! My name is Blitzo! Please mutilate me! I deserve it!”

Nice. Nice.

The next one showed the Blitzalope stabbed through with a carving knife.

Deserved.

The next had it rammed in a large pile of shit - which Blitzø assumed was more than likely horse shit.

Mhmm… Yup. Very apropos.

Another had the Blitzalope squished under the tire of Verosika’s pink pussy-wagon.

Clever.

And in the last photo you could see Verosika’s hand flipping the Blitzalope the bird, while the plush was being pissed on by a queef on the sidewalk.

HA! Classic.

Blitzø smiled to himself

He was startled when he saw a speech bubble pop up with those three little dots.

Oh f*ck… What’s she gunna say…

He closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst.

His phone pinged.

“More useful than you ever were.”

Blitzø smiled and chuckled to himself.

I’m glad you like it, Rosi… You’ll get a proper apology one of these days... I promise.

*****

[dazzlinglybitter]

Super nervous to post this on here but here goes nothing. I am trying to move out of the south. For those who don't know, Texas and many other southern states are becoming increasingly risky for queer people to live in. I have never felt accepted or safe here, and it is getting worse. I unfortunately had to use a chunk of my savings for an emergency that popped up, and that has put me behind schedule in my savings for the move. I don't like asking but had to try. I continue to save and find other ways to bring income in, but moving is very expensive. I appreciate anything! A reblog, a donation, a like, a comment. Literally anything to share this! Thank y'all so much!

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

In the rural farming communities of my world, I'm thinking about a potential plot related reason that would cause it to culturally be common to have small familes of 1-3 children. But I've noticed that across the world such communities generally welcome a whole ton of children because they work on the farm. When I remove that part... how could it affect my farming community? Technologically, these communities hover between 19-20th century tech.

Tex: Less children dying from things like starvation, illness, and untreatable injuries, and also a whole lot of self-owned, effective, easy to repair machines that can do the work of several people in a fraction of the time. The nineteenth century, or 1800s, had a lot of social upheaval and the beginnings of scientific progress in understanding what diseases were (Wikipedia). The twentieth century, or 1900s, had an exponential increase in knowledge compared to the 1800s, as well as a corresponding population boom (Wikipedia). To wit, one billion overall population was recorded in 1800 (Wikipedia).

Compared to previous centuries, those two hundred years were the most advanced in human history in terms of medical development and accessibility to education. It was, also compared to previous centuries, some of the most polluted and war-riddled that lead to new methods for the stark impoverishment of the global population. Women being strongly encouraged through many means - many less acknowledging of individual freedoms than others - to bear as many children as possible over their lifetime is due to high child mortality rates, where playing the game of statistics meant that you would possibly get a handful of children reaching adulthood that could take over the family farm (or other estate or inheritances) and ostensibly take care of their parents when life has run them over roughshod too much to work anymore. The development of pensions has done much to alleviate that societal, generational woe, and shift the perception of children in their social role from live-in workers to additional members of one’s family. This is, of course, not a uniform movement, as poverty will perpetuate the ideas of large families and responsibilities for inheritance (and thus situations such as arranged marriages, etc), which is still ongoing today in many, many parts of the world regardless of a country’s GDP. For the time period of 1800-2000, farmers having 1-3 children depends entirely on how much money they already make, have inherited themselves, and how little they can spend on producing agricultural products. This will include such “cost-cutting” measures as:

the cheapest labor available (see: immigrants, or prison workers, as seasonal labor when slavery was given a different legal definition in countries like the U.S.),

chemical agriculture,

genetically modified crops,

vehicles such as tractors, and 

a lot of very good marketing

So, generally, the richer your family already was, the less you needed to have a dozen or two children born per generation to use as labor, because you could spend your plethora of money on new and cutting-edge technologies that would turn agriculture into a passive money-making business for you. This is the same for non-agricultural industries of the time, especially with the post-WWII price-fixing measures and before the introduction of modern credit cards, credit scores, etc, where money generally had more purchasing power and the average person had more disposable income that would have been otherwise allocated to things like food, medicine, replacing worn-out clothing/shoes, transportation costs, and putting a roof over one’s head.

Notably, after the mid-2000s, there has been a decrease in the average person’s disposable income, so what was true for 1800-2000 will not necessarily be broadly applicable after that period in time.

Utuabzu: One place you can look to for a real world example of this is France, which hit an average of approximately 3 children per woman in 1871, and had long had a lower birth rate than the rest of Europe. A major reason for this was the Salic inheritance system, which saw land divided equally among all sons. This was a serious disincentive for a family to have more than one son, since over time it resulted in farms that were divided into ever smaller and less viable plots. And since a daughter would require a dowry to be married, they weren’t much more desirable. So farmers in France had significant motivation to limit the number of children in their families - though as Tex mentions above, this was counterbalanced by the need to have spare kids to account for the relatively high childhood mortality rate. This resulted in the French population remaining essentially stable at around 20 million between the mid 15th (after it recovered from the Black Death) and mid 18th (when medicine started to be an actual science) Centuries, while the populations of other European regions expanded significantly.

So, it’s perfectly possible for a pre-modern largely rural society to have a low birth rate, so long as there are appropriate legal and technological conditions. Extra farm labour is great and all, but not worth it if the end result is the family being left destitute after the landholder’s death because the farm got divided into unviable fractions.

Licorice: families welcoming a whole lot of children might be overstating the case. Before reliable birth control, families endured a whole lot of children because there was no way to prevent them. It is pretty much universally true to say that wherever women have control over their own fertility, the birth rate goes down. Very few women actually want to give birth to eight or ten children over the course of their reproductive life, though there are always outliers, of course.

A woman’s control over her fertility is determined by two main factors

Access to reliable contraception

Her freedom to choose whether to use contraception

Some women may live in societies where they are allowed to make decisions about their own bodies, but don’t have access to the birth control they need; in other societies, the birth control may be available, but the woman may not be the one making the decision. 

In all societies throughout history means have been devised to deal with the arrival of children who were surplus to requirements. These included

Infanticide, whether state-endorsed (e.g. in ancient Sparta) or illegal (e.g. in 19th century Europe)

Adoption

Foundlings and foundling hospitals

Selling the child into slavery

Some societies historically have set such a high premium on male children that “excess” girl children would be routinely killed at birth. Even if allowed to live, if a food insecurity situation arose, the available food would go to the brothers and the sisters would be allowed to starve. In general, societies that set a high premium on male children are those where the girl children are “given away” to another family when they marry, while the boy children are expected to take care of their parents in their old age. 

Sparta is an interesting example of a patriarchal, militaristic society where it was easier for a girl child to survive than a boy child. Physically imperfect baby boys were killed, whereas physically imperfect girls were often allowed to live on the grounds that Sparta needed all the Spartan-breeding wombs it could muster.

Utuabzu has already spoken about the correlation between land available for farming and population levels. When a society over-produces children, and insufficient land is available on which these children can raise families of their own, their options included:

Migrate: the seemingly endless swathes of so-called “empty” land available in the West encouraged large families in 19th century USA. Greek cities in the 8th century sent their surplus population to establish colonies all around the Med and the Black Sea

Enter a religious order 

Move to the city and take up a trade or profession

Fraternal polyandry or “wife-sharing”

Join the army

Make war on neighbouring societies to acquire their land for your own group

Human societies seem to have perpetually poised between two equally perilous situations: having too many children, and not having enough. We have been equally ingenious in devising solutions!

[rubykgrant]

(mildy NSFW joke incoming!)

Church would spend two weeks trying to figure out a smooth way to tell Tex something like- "Some people go to Church and kneel, but how about Church kneels for you", except he can't figure out how to say it right, he keeps biffing it on the delivery, adding more words and over-explaining it- "I mean, y'know, Like I'll get on my knees for you- NOT LIKE A PROPOSAL! But, uh, maybe eventually? Right now, though, I mean like, I get on my knees, and you, uh, y'know, you sit down, and..."

[zootzbootz]

──────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ──────

ՙ 𑁍 📨 incoming message

⛲ greetings, you! 𓂃

𔘓 yes, you!

are you perhaps plural? or do you happen to partake in roleplays from time to time?... are you perhaps both of these things?

if you answered yes to any or all of the above inquiries- might I perhaps interest you in joining… the oasis lodge!!

. . . 🌺 ՙ𔘓 . .

oasis lodge is a plural friendly roleplay server with a loose plot centered around the fictional country club of the same namesake, owned and operated by the mysterious and rather peculiar mr. oasis.

we have the intention of catering to those who roleplay literate and above, however those of all styles and experience levels are welcomed! you don't even need to be a roleplayer to join!

.

.

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our verification process is simple!

and the character forms are optional!

──────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ──────

hope to see you there!!

[antigone-ks]

Lantern of Evil, Chapter Six

MARVEL MASTERLIST

CHAPTER FIVE

Chapter Six - September, We Danced

September morn/ We danced until the night/ Became a brand new day

____________________

You’d agonized over what to wear: to be as historically accurate as possible, or to look good. They were very definitely two different things; the early 30s still had the loose, figure-skimming silhouette of the 20s, and it made you look like a box with hair. On the other hand, there were a lot of vintage-ish dresses that could hit the basic notes, but wouldn’t make you try and wrangle your chest into the period-appropriate flatness that you’d never achieve anyway.

And Grant likes your boobs.

You push down that highly inappropriate thought, but you have caught him looking a couple of times. Not down your shirt or anything, he’s classy about it, he just . . . notices. In a not-just-friends way.

He called you beautiful, your mind sings. He said he can’t breathe sometimes. Which, ok, asthma. But even so, it pointed to him wanting more than holding hands, and cuddling at the movies, and that time on the bridge when he looked at you and made your skin catch fire. That was weeks ago, and he’s freer with his touches now – kissing your hand, keeping his arm around you almost all the time . . . but he’s holding back from more. You haven’t met his friends. He keeps having reasons not to meet yours. You don’t think he’s ashamed of you, not really, but . . . but why else? your brain asks, because your brain is an asshole that can’t make up its mind.

You don’t want to push him, but you do want to know. Something. You need to know something.

So you’d found a gorgeous blue velvet dress that only needed some gauzy little sleeves attached to make it work pretty well. There were a couple of guys at the shop when you were trying it on; the big broad-shouldered brunet in the long sleeves said it made you look like Jean Harlow, and his boyfriend (you assumed), a handsome black man with an amazing smile, said it reminded him of Jane Russell. Pair it with t-strap flats, because you’re not trying to stand in heels for four hours, and some moderate buttressing underneath, and you flatter yourself that you might get a couple of Tex Avery-style reactions.

Or just one.

Just the one that matters.

You tuck the bag with your sweaty old clothes under one of the refreshments tables. It seems like everyone who’s ever walked through the historical society’s doors have been decorating, prepping, and generally fussing all day long. You’ve got just enough time left to mutually exclaim over each others’ clothing before the (hopefully well-heeled and generous) throng arrives. You’re sharing squeals and flattering remarks with the other volunteers, when the society president enters like the prow of a ship, in a dress that’s almost certainly a real vintage Schiaparelli.

“Ladies! and gentlemen,” she nods toward you all. “Thank you for all your hard work, conceiving and organizing our annual fundraiser. The center looks beautiful, and I’m delighted that so many of you have chosen to follow the theme . . . to the best of your abilities,” she says, side-eyeing some of the group. If she includes you in that, at least she doesn’t look at you while she does it. “And I am most gratified to tell you that this event is already a success. Thanks to a generous donation from the Stark Foundation, we have made our budget for the next fiscal year!”

“For the next ten fiscal years,” the vice-president mutters, sounding awed.

“Does that mean we don’t have to dance?” one of the volunteers asks, a college girl teetering in heels that look amazing and terrifying.

The president doesn’t dignify that with a response, just sails on into the foyer to start greeting the incoming donors.

The early trickle of guests turns into a deluge. There are so many people dancing, so many crowding around the refreshments and the side tables, so many spilling out onto the lawn where it’s almost quiet enough for a conversation. Someone managed to get the air conditioning turned up, but you’re still sweating a little within the first ten minutes.

“Do all your events go this well?” you ask Kate, who’s also working refreshments. She’s in a beaded black number that almost looks like a real period outfit, if you ignored that the bottom turns into chiffon pants. Kate is a freaking genius.

She laughs delightedly. “I think everyone heard the rumor.”

“What rumor?”

“That the Avengers might show up. Or maybe just Tony Stark. He’s been pretty generous to every charity and nonprofit in the county since they moved upstate.”

You’d forgotten that the Avengers facility was nearby. That did explain why your Stark grant was tied to local research.

“They’re not really, though, are they?” It was a ridiculous rumor, but after that donation . . .

You share a speculative look, and Kate shrugs. “They better let me out to dance with Captain America, is all I’m saying.”

Lila, resplendent in a floral silk, leans over. “I’d buy everybody’s tickets and trade them for one dance with the Black Widow.”

“She could kill you with her thighs, Li.”

“God, I hope so.”

That’s all the conversation you have time for, as a song ends and another rush starts. You’re trying to dab discreetly at your face with a napkin when the president sweeps by and takes your arm.

“You don’t want to be stuck behind this table all night, do you? You ought to dance.”

This is an unexpected twist; you aren’t sure she knows your entire name, and she’s not tugging at Lila or Kate.

“I’m fine here – I don’t even know how to dance,” you demur, but she’s having none of it.

“There’s a gentleman asking after you. He’s made a very nice donation . . . but of course you don’t have to,” she says soothingly. “He did indicate that you knew each other.”

Grant?

You can’t see him over the crowd, but as you get closer to the door you catch the light glinting off his golden hair. His face lights up as you come into sight, and he stands up straight and brushes his hair out of his eyes.

“You look beautiful.” His voice has a little gravel in it, which honestly is better than oogah-horn eyes any day.

“So do you! Or, handsome. You look handsome.” He’s wearing dress greens so crisp they could cut paper, absolutely period-perfect.

“What, you think fellas can’t be beautiful?”

You feel giddy and young, just standing there looking at each other.

“I haven’t had any gin,” he says, that slow, crooked grin spreading across his face.

“Well, then. Got your tickets, sailor?”

“Soldier,” he corrects, and hands up a fucking fistful of them. You stare, and burst into the hardest, bone-deepest belly-laugh you’ve had in years. He scuffs his feet and looks up at you sheepishly, then holds out a hand.

Grant tugs you gently to a less-inhabited corner of the dance floor as a slower song begins, one that you can just sway to and still call it dancing. There’s a fumble of hands and elbows, then he’s got you in the right position, holding one of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, so close your breasts nearly brush his jacket as you move together.

Thank god for the buttressing, or it wouldn’t take too many songs before everyone could see how you feel.

The first song passes without words. You spend a lot of time looking at your feet, even though you’re not really moving.

“You’re doing fine,” he says, and your head jerks up, expecting to see him laughing at you. His eyes are soft, instead, his head tilted a little to the side. You can feel your cheeks going at least three-alarm.

“I like your dress. It’s really soft”

Oh god. Oh god, my hair’s going to catch fire.

“I . . . I like your uniform. It looks vintage.” At least you can still talk.

“Nah, just a costume. You’d have to special-order to get ‘em this small during the war. And the army fussed about special orders.” His smile is wry, and his brow furrows.

“Well, that was silly of them,” you say firmly.

“Think I’d’ve made a good soldier?” he asks.

“I think you get pretty determined to do whatever you’ve decided on. So yeah, if you decided to do that.”

His grip tightens on your hip, and he pulls you fractionally closer. “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“Likewise.” It’s not a great reply, but you don’t have a lot of breath to work with. You wonder if he’ll kiss you tonight, know that he won’t, and kick yourself for feeling disheartened anyway.

You gaze at each other for a moment, then Grant clears his throat. “It looks like your dance is a hit,” he says.

“Yeah – oh! Did you hear? The Stark Foundation made a massive donation, so even if nobody showed we’d still be in the black.”

“The, the Stark Foundation?” He looks startled, then his eyes narrow. “How would they even hear about . . .”

“Dunno,” you must, puzzling at his odd reaction. “The regulars say he’s been making donations everywhere since the whole, you know, relocation thing.”

“That’s true . . .” he says. “Still . . . oh, well. That’s nice of him. Of the foundation.“

“I guess someone also started a rumor that the Avengers would be here.” His grip tightens, and he’s holding you indecently close, as Madam President would no doubt say if she saw. You watch the color drain from his face. “Grant, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” His arms loosen, and you step back a little.

“Oh, no. Are you on the wrong side of the Avengers? Did you design logos for supervillains?” you tease, and it works – he laughs and draws you back into proper form.

“No, no, I just –“ his ears are turning pink again “– I just don’t wanna have to share my girl with Captain America. Or the Falcon.”

“I very much doubt Captain America would be interested in your girl.” My girl my girl, your brain singsongs at you.

“Captain America would adore you,” he breathes, and oh gosh, you might actually get that kiss tonight. “And I hear the Falcon is very charming. Has a great smile.”

“Well, they’d have a very long wait,” you say. “I’m pretty sure all those tickets have me booked solid for the night. But I do have a friend who’d mortgage her house to dance with the Black Widow.”

“That’s a brave lady,” he laughed. “But. But would you rather?” You look confused, and he plunges on. “Would you rather dance with Captain America? Or someone like him?”

Is it possible he doesn’t know how you feel? Sometime very soon you’ll need to kiss all his doubts away. “Now, why would I want to dance with Captain America when I’ve got –“ you check his double bars “– Captain Stevens?”

Another song begins, Paul Anka instructing his partner to put their head on his shoulder, and you and Grant share a giggle as half the room obeys. “That would never happen at a real taxi,” he says, “not unless a fella paid extra and the chaperone wasn’t looking.”

“I think a lot of them are married, or partnered up,” you respond. “I wouldn’t put my head on just anybody’s shoulder, either.”

“Would you put your head on mine?” he asks, the words spilling out so quickly you barely catch them. Just as his gaze drops, embarassed, you bite your lip and gently lay your head down against his jacket. His heart is beating so fast, you can hear it pounding through the wool. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and presses his cheek against your hair. You can’t breathe at all, your heart is galloping like the Kentucky Derby, and if you stand up straight you’ll likely faint.

When’s the last time a man made you feel like this? Made your skin hot all over, gave you goosebumps through the heat? Took your breath away with a look, made you feel weak and powerful all at once? Held you like you were precious, like you deserved his tenderness? When’s the last time you were so in love?

In love. Oh, no.

Grant makes a quizzical noise and holds you tighter, his hand rubbing your back. “It’s ok; I’ve got you,” he murmurs, breath soft against your cheek.

Please, please let that be true.

Paul turns to Frank, Frank becomes Sidney, and on and on. You don’t make it back to the refreshments tables. Miraculously, you don’t step on Grant’s toes, even when the music speeds up. You do get a little crick in your neck after a few songs, so the head-on-shoulder thing has to stop, but then Louis and Ella wax poetic about dancing cheek-to-cheek. It’s the easiest thing in the world to step closer and press your cheeks together. Grant’s cheeks are on fire, too, and it makes you feel better about your own thermonuclear facial bombs.

And then the last song ends, and no more follow. You both look up; the hall is half-empty. Kate’s packing up the refreshments; she catches your eye and gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up, then waves at Grant when he looks over.

“Guess I monopolized you all night,” he says, not sounding a bit guilty about it.

“Well, gotta keep the customer happy.”

“I can help you clean up?” He hasn’t quite let go of your hand; his thumb brushes over your fingers, and you guide him over to Kate, praying that she’ll be discreet about –

“Hey! You must be Grant!” – about that. Kate’s beaming at him as he shakes her hand. “We’ve heard . . .” she glances at you “a little about you. Not a lot. A reasonable amount of information. Mostly good.”

“Mostly?” Grant directs his question toward you.

You shrug and load a tray of punch cups onto the rolly cart thing. “You like Ellsworth Kelly. Lines must be drawn.”

He huffs at you and hefts a punchbowl. “No eye for color, you.”

“Black and white aren’t colors, Grant.” You’ve had this argument a few times.

“You’re one step above a Philistine.” But he’s smiling as he carries the bowl off toward a group of students browbeaten into doing the washing.

“So he’s nice,” Kate muttered. “Not what I expected, but still a cutie. And he’s got it bad for you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” you giggle, because that’s what you’re supposed to say. “Does he?”

“Honey, he bought a hundred and fifty dance tickets.”

You run the math in your head. “That’s like seven hours of dancing.” And like fifteen hundred dollars.

Kate shimmies at you. “Maybe he thinks you’ll dance for him once he takes you home.”

“No . . .” Yes! “And anyway, I thought Lila was giving us both a ride?”

“Not you. Not anymore.” A worrying smile spreads across her face as Grant comes back to the table. “Sorry, but Lila’s been called away. We’re all going to have to find rides home.” Lila is standing ten feet away, busily wrapping up leftover cookies with a smirk on her face.

“I can take you home,” Grant offers.

“You –“

“That’s so sweet of you,” Kate says. “Such a gentleman.”

“Have some cookies,” Lila adds, handing over a package.

“We’re not done cleaning up, though . . .” you say, feeling overwhelmed and cared for, even if it is a little overbearing.

“We’ve got it; you go have fun.”

“Don’t get fresh!” Kate calls after you, as Grant propels you toward the door.

“But get a little fresh!” Lila laughs.

Dress inspo:

____________________

Neil Diamond – September MornSeptember morn/ We danced until the night/ Became a brand new day

READ CHAPTER SEVEN

[tex-treasure-chamber]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Name: "Tex" Sonata

Pronouns: xe/they/she

Universes: BBC Sherlock, Black Books, The Blacklist

Age: 31 at the start of S1

MBTI: INTJ-T

Personality in five words: Cautious, Earnest, Macabre, Playful, Curious

Orientation: AFAB Agender person. Asexual and aromantic

Nationality: Texan (Mexican-American)

Physical description: 5'0". Sonata is a POC; xe has caramel brown skin and indigenous Mexican features in the form of xyr strong nose. They have heavy lidded dark brown eyes, dark brown wavy hair that curls at the ends and reaches her lower back. Small scar on right side of jaw along their chin. Small cupid's bow lips. Dark brown freckles occasionally dot xyr skin in constellations along arms. Hourglass figure.

Clothing attire: Sonata typically wears dark/light academia attire to work and an eldritch blend of detective film noir/southern cowboy/goth lolita/Hawaiian shirt wearing stepdad when on the streets. Regarding shoes, it's either cowboy shoes, oxfords, or thick heels. Usually always has on a large chunky jumper around the flat. Wears a wristwatch at all times except in the shower even though it's waterproof. Has two piercings in both ears and typically wears silver studs.

Occupation: D.I. working for Scotland Yard. Answers to D.I. Lestrade. Has some training as a criminal profiler

Home: 221C. Between the events depicted in Ep1 and Ep 3 of S1, Mrs. Hudson renovates 221C thanks to the combined income from Sherlock and John and Sonata moves in long before the events depicted in Ep3.

Interests: marine biology, astronomy, art history, zoology, criminology, learning dying languages

Hobbies: painting, letter writing with wax seals, photography, stargazing, drawing, reading and visiting Black Books for more books and to spend time with friends (xe always brings wine), writing poetry, playing chess, exploring London museums and art galleries, feeding the local magpies, cooking/baking.

Idiosyncrasies: hums/sings when xe thinks xe is alone, bounces leg, bounces on balls of feet, fiddles/gesticulates with hands, plays with the curled ends of xyr hair, doesn't make much eye contact, is prone to staring, shies away from touch.

-Relationships-

Life partner: Jim Moriarty

Queerplatonic partners: Molly Hooper, Gregory Lestrade

Found family (adoption style): Mycroft, Sherlock, and Eurus Holmes, Dembe Zuma, Raymond Reddington, Mrs. Hudson.

Best Friends: John Watson, David Black (belongs to @13leighstreet)

Friends: Bernard Black, Soo Lin Yao, Irene Adler, Mike Stamford

-Day in the Life-

When not working at Scotland Yard or at a crime scene, Sonata can be found at their home in 221C or out somewhere in London on any random given street with someone dear to xem that she's managed to drag along on yet another 'miniventure'. Often on Fridays she enjoys visiting Black Books with a bottle of wine and baked goods they made the evening before to pacify the owner and browse the store for a new book, typically with Jim or Molly by their side.

[clvric]

They were in the middle of a very chaotic match, Eavari is doing her best to heal people left & right, not very focused on whatever incoming fire was headed her way, if she got eliminated; then their push might get squashed & they'll have to fight twice as hard on the next go.

Seems like someone was paying attention, since quick thinking & a quick aim takes care of her little problem, Cain had rolled out in front of her & took a precise headshot to the pesky sniper who had been trying to pick them off from a distance. They were out for now, but it was only a matter of time before they came back.

Cain looks back at her with a reassuring smile & a little wink to go with it.

❝ Gotta be careful, lil' lady, can't be losin' ya, now !! ❞

It causes a playful roll of her eyes, but nonetheless; she was grateful for his quick save. He may not be the most flashy gunman, but no one could deny that Cain was a great shot.

❝ Appreciate the shootin', Tex. ❞

Back to back, they're both able to do their jobs, one heals the team & the other returns fire towards the enemy team. This duo might be an excellent pairing for these matchups.

[honey-dont]

my freight ocs for freight week!! long post incoming i have a lot of them <3

bonnabelle the milk car

former boxcar converted into a milk car. mostly does short line trips to fairs and stuff. very silly and has no idea what's going on most of the time. loves pink, strawberries, and stuffed animals! tex is her cousin and bff. has a little baby crush on coco

(art by calocera)

tex the cattle car

former boxcar converted into a cattle car. very devoted to his cargo and takes really good care of them! epitome of a good southern boy. will hold the door open for you and then get stuck holding it open for the next dozen people. cousins and bffs with bonnabelle. has a will-they-won't-they thing going on with charley

(art by vanillamouse)

charlemange the autorack

perpetually sleep-deprived and pissed-off autorack. has a silly traffic cone hat. scarily tall (6'5" without hat). gender is ??? but likes presenting more feminine when he has the energy for it. has a will-they-won't-they thing going on with tex

(art by me)

bea the ore jenny

ore jenny who is a very self-indulgent flatdust fan kid :) takes after both her dads! headstrong, energetic, and a social butterfly. forgets to empty her load a lot. missing a tooth. dating luis (she calls him lucho <3)

(art by me)

luis the ballast hopper

a ballast hopper with big dreams! spends most of his time stuck in the yard doing maintenance work ): he has icicle breakers equipped in the winter and gets put on passenger lines to protect the coaches. a little dumb but very sweet and doing his best. dating bea and adores her but is scared of her dad (flat top. dustin is fine)

(art by truthful-tidings)

jerrie the boom car

former gondola converted into a boom car (was originally scheduled to be scrapped but saved at the last minute). work partners and best friends with dolan the big hook and keeps him focused on the job. likes reading! doesn't like humans and thinks stealing from them is always morally correct

(art by magmastar)

[xquiziteagency]

🤑🩸 Top 5 Best States 🌏to Live In: Pros, Cons, and Why You’ll Love Them🩸🤑

👋Hey everyone from Mrs. Exquisite Life Hacks, and today we’re diving into the top states where you might just want to pack your bags and move! Get ready for the pros, the cons, and everything in between. Let’s get into it!

State 1: Florida]

• Visuals: Sun-drenched beaches, theme parks, and lively nightlife.

• Pros: “First up, Florida! Known for its sunshine and warm weather all year round. Great for those who love the beach and outdoor activities. No state income tax is a huge plus for your wallet!”

• Cons: “But, beware of those hurricane seasons and high humidity. And, if you’re not a fan of tourists, some areas can get pretty crowded.”

• Quick Facts: Average cost of living, average temperatures, and key cities highlighted with colorful graphics.

[State 2: Texas]

• Visuals: Expansive landscapes, diverse cities, and Tex-Mex cuisine.

• Pros: “Texas is booming with job opportunities and no state income tax. Plus, it’s got a rich cultural scene and affordable housing!”

• Cons: “On the flip side, the heat can be intense, and traffic in cities like Houston and Dallas can be a real headache.”

• Quick Facts: Key cities, average salaries, and housing market trends.

[State 3: Colorado]

• Visuals: Stunning mountain views, ski resorts, and vibrant city life.

• Pros: “Colorado offers a fantastic quality of life with beautiful landscapes, outdoor activities, and a strong economy. The air is clean, and the people are friendly!”

• Cons: “However, housing prices are rising, and the high altitude might be tough if you’re not used to it. Winter snow can also be a challenge for some.”

• Quick Facts: Cost of living, popular activities, and climate overview.

[State 4: North Carolina]

• Visuals: Scenic mountain ranges, charming cities, and beautiful coastlines.

• Pros: “North Carolina is known for its mild climate, affordable living, and diverse landscapes. It’s got a little bit of everything!”

• Cons: “The job market isn’t as strong in some areas, and you might have to deal with a bit of humidity in the summer.”

• Quick Facts: Highlights of major cities, average cost of living, and climate details.

[State 5: Washington]

• Visuals: Green forests, tech hubs, and vibrant urban scenes.

• Pros: “Washington offers stunning natural beauty and a strong job market, especially in tech. Plus, no state income tax!”

• Cons: “Be prepared for a lot of rain, especially in Seattle, and the cost of living can be quite high. Traffic congestion is another thing to consider.”

• Quick Facts: Major cities, average housing costs, and employment statistics.

[Conclusion]

• Visuals: Recap montage of all five states with vibrant transitions.

• Host Wrap-Up: “So there you have it—five amazing states with their own unique pros and cons. Whether you’re looking for sunshine, job opportunities, or natural beauty, there’s something for everyone. Huge thanks to Mrs. Exquisite Life Hacks for sponsoring this video! If you enjoyed this guide, don’t forget to like, subscribe, and hit that notification bell for more tips and life hacks. Catch you next time!” Signing off with love Mrs Exquisite! Muah 💋 🩸🤑

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

I am trying to expand definitions what what are first, second, third world etc places. But I'm going to need more than that because it doesn't fit sci fi much as some places are medieval or older and others have extremely technology advanced. But even in each, there are different statuses. People who live like royalty/wealthy in a medieval world getting categorised near the bottom is natural when compared to the universe but also a bit unfair? I don't know. And there are obvious poor places in technology advanced worlds - but are miles ahead of royalty in medieval worlds. I'm not how to deal with this.

Licorice: Instead of using “first world”, “second world”, and “third world”, terms which are falling out of use anyway, have you considered using one of the terms used nowadays by aid and development circles, such as “developed country” or “low-income country”? These terms come with their own baggage and some people consider them to be equally pejorative, but they have the merit of describing the metric on which they’re based. 

If you’re building a sci-fi world, your starting place should be the standards which the powers that be in your world use to group, or rank, its communities (planets; countries; civilisations). If you have a Mother Planet that lords it over more recently colonised planets, you could have a literal First World-Second World situation. If the colonised planets then go on to colonise new planets of their own - Third World! If it’s all about which states have the most military power versus those which have little or none, you could invent a different term for that. 

Many sci-fi books and shows divide the world into communities/planets that share advanced tech and the culture that goes with it, and communities/planets that have been judged “not yet ready” for such tech, or communities/planets which are lagging behind in their development of that tech.

Tex: The terms you’re using come from the Cold War era (Wikipedia 1, Wikipedia 2), and are in use mostly as a function of macroeconomics (Wikipedia). As such, in order to expand such definitions, you need to have a similar catalyzing event in your world’s history to have the same functional starting point.

In this respect, I would encourage you to study Star Trek: The Original Series, as it was written during the Cold War and has much contemporary criticism to the social turbulence of the time (Wikipedia, Memory Alpha).

For a perspective that’s roughly a generation or so removed from the Cold War, I would recommend both Stargate SG-1 (Wikipedia, SGCommand) and Stargate Atlantis (Wikipedia, SGCommand), as it’s useful to understand intergenerational impacts of socioeconomic decisions made for the entrenchment of social stratification, particularly in a sci-fi setting.

Historically, the creation of such disparate social classes as seen in, as you describe, the European medieval era, is due to the consequential accumulation of wealth caused by many series of war based upon cultural stipulations like religious strictures. Whatever originally created royalty and nobility, it frequently becomes a fixed social class due to artificial means. If a social norm is artificially devised, then the conclusion usually follows that it is unfair by design and thus not natural, because there are no avenues for change to fix any flaws that crop up.

Addy: It seems to me that you're trying to get a scale to describe societies at different tech levels. I'd recommend looking at the tech level system from the Traveller tabletop game - I think that could be a good spot for getting started. Or look at tech levels from other systems and things - that should help get you what you're looking for, a set of terms to effectively describe the technological level of a society.

Feral: I don’t have much to add to what Licorice and Tex have already said, but I would recommend studying cultural relativism to help with expanding your reasoning on how cultures interact with out reducing the broad spectrum of human experience to “advancement.”

[researchreport00]

Dynamics of the Textile Dye Market in Latin America

The textile dye market in Latin America stands at a pivotal juncture, poised for substantial growth and transformation in the coming years. As of 2023, the market for textile dyes in the region was valued at approximately USD 2,872.03 million, underscoring its integral role in the vibrant textile and apparel industry. Projections suggest a steady growth trajectory with an estimated compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 4.50% from 2024 to 2032. By 2032, the market is expected to expand significantly, reaching a value of USD 4,268.10 million, driven by technological advancements, sustainability initiatives, and evolving consumer preferences.

Catalysts of Market Expansion

Textile dyes serve as essential components in the textile manufacturing process, imparting color, vibrancy, and aesthetic appeal to fabrics and garments. The growing demand for personalized and eco-friendly textile products has spurred innovation within the textile dye sector. Manufacturers are increasingly focusing on developing sustainable dyeing solutions that minimize environmental impact, reduce water consumption, and enhance the recyclability of textile materials.

Moreover, advancements in dye chemistry, formulation techniques, and application technologies are enabling textile producers to achieve superior color fastness, durability, and color consistency across diverse fiber types and fabric substrates. These innovations not only cater to the stringent quality standards of the textile industry but also meet regulatory requirements pertaining to chemical safety and environmental sustainability.

Regional Dynamics and Market Trends

Latin America's textile dye market exhibits diverse regional dynamics influenced by economic growth, industrialization, and consumer behavior. Countries such as Brazil, Mexico, Argentina, and Colombia emerge as key players in the region, driven by a thriving textile manufacturing base and increasing investments in textile infrastructure. Urbanization, rising disposable incomes, and shifting fashion trends contribute to the growing demand for dyed textiles across both domestic and export markets.

Furthermore, partnerships between textile manufacturers, dye suppliers, and academic institutions foster collaborative research and development initiatives aimed at advancing dyeing technologies, optimizing production processes, and addressing emerging market needs. Strategic alliances and joint ventures enhance innovation capabilities, market competitiveness, and sustainability practices within the textile dye industry.

Sustainability Initiatives and Regulatory Landscape

Sustainability remains a critical focus area for stakeholders in the textile dye market. Initiatives to reduce carbon emissions, adopt renewable energy sources, and implement closed-loop dyeing systems are gaining traction, driven by consumer awareness and regulatory pressures. Certifications such as OEKO-TEX® Standard 100 and Global Organic Textile Standard (GOTS) validate the eco-friendly credentials of textile dyes, reassuring consumers of product safety and environmental stewardship.

Moreover, regulatory frameworks governing chemical usage and wastewater discharge are prompting textile dye manufacturers to invest in cleaner production technologies and wastewater treatment facilities. These initiatives contribute to mitigating environmental pollution and promoting sustainable practices throughout the textile value chain.

Future Outlook and Strategic Imperatives

Looking ahead, the textile dye market in Latin America is poised for dynamic growth driven by innovation, sustainability, and market diversification. Manufacturers and stakeholders must continue to prioritize research and development, adopt sustainable manufacturing practices, and embrace digital technologies to capitalize on emerging opportunities and navigate market challenges effectively.

By leveraging collaborative partnerships, embracing circular economy principles, and addressing evolving consumer expectations for sustainable and responsibly produced textiles, the industry can foster resilience, innovation, and long-term growth in the competitive global marketplace.

In conclusion, the textile dye market in Latin America represents a convergence of technological innovation, environmental stewardship, and market dynamics shaping the future of textile coloration. As stakeholders collaborate to drive sustainable growth and meet evolving market demands, the region stands poised to play a pivotal role in the global textile dye industry landscape.