#ace family // new worlds divided

[gremlins-hotel]

✈︎ grem/gremlin

✈︎ 21+

✈︎ they/he

✈︎ archaeology major! minor is us history.

✈︎ commission status: open

✈︎ my shit: a-flying-fortress | archaeologyfjones (ask blog) | twitter

my old shit: close-air-support (old main) | grem-archive (hetalia) | archaeojones (original ask blog)

✈︎ tag guide: 

misc: callsign gremlin checking in | gremlin shitpost | gremlin tankposting | gremlin’s things with wings | mooom! gremlin’s archaeologyposting again!

from the desk: alpha romeo tango | papa echo november

headcanon tags: mechanics of nations // eldritch abominations | alfred f. jones // daring to fly | mathieu williams // bear with me | mathieu & alfred // brothers earth and sky | arthur kirkland // salt wind and green garden | arthur & alfred // a king and his crown | arthur & mathieu // anchor spares none | ace family // new worlds divided | romano de cesare // luctor et emergo | ivan braginsky // Не остаться в этой траве | ludwig beilschmidt // meine Stärken und meine Schwächen

ship tags: romerica // spaghetti western | rusame // stardust on our boots | gerame // mach speed meta

my aus: sunfall // the wayward soldier | beartalia // hibernation or bust | harpytalia // world on the wing | unbound // a western saga | lemon sharks // friendly seas | ersatz // dark side of the moon

[phoenixcatch7]

Deep in my ff7 rereads so here are my favourite fandom fics, hands down.

End as you mean to begin <- 130k+ of time travelling cloud parenting the remnants, seeking asylum in a war torn wutai to keep all four of them out of shinras hands while sephiroth is absolutely Going Through It in midgar. Great Genesis characterisation and cloud mothering his way to an international incident. Bonus gender hijinks, hilarious misunderstandings and zack. Unfinished.

The fear of falling stars <- 500k+ and soon to be completed. Cloud and insane!Sephiroth time travel back to their shinra days and I cannot emphasise enough how much cloud is Not Doing Well. Gorgeous wordplay and top tier banter. Utterly unhinged blood enemies to ??? to ?????? to lovers sefikura. It's E rated and probably the tensest I've ever been reading fic lol, it is not lighthearted! But it's incredibly well written and the characters are phenomenal (zack my beloved) so if you've got strong nerves (and like a quarantine pairing) I'd definitely recommend it.

Voice of the gods <- 170k+ of almost idyllic gods and avatars au. Slow, soft and full of world building, it's a lovely relaxing read of cloud getting anointed the envoy of sephiroth, god of war, and slowly growing into his role and joining the ranks of envoy. Lots of side characters take larger roles here, and sephiroth himself is a darling without losing his sharpest edges. Unfinished.

I CAN FIX HIM (series) <- possibly my favourite sephiroth characterisations ever. 130k and growing of pure shaking this man like a doll in a perfect mix of almost delirious crack and gutting angst (often both at once!). Very good writing, every single funny moment hits like a truck and keeps building until you're choking with laughter. Bonus points to ROADTRIP! for being utterly, utterly insane. I cannot emphasise enough just how GOOD every single character and their dynamics are written.

Just anything ff7 written by AimeeLouWrites, if you've been in this fandom for any length of time you'll have heard of her. Great concepts, great executions and aus for DAYS.

Five hearts to make him whole <- 130k+ of time/dimension travelling cloud getting sent to a world of soulmates - and his alternate self bagged all four soldier firsts. Alternate cloud also died violently a few years ago and boy did those soulmates (not) take it well. Our cloud, of course, was not read in on any of this. Shout out to the emotional support chocobo! Unfinished?

Shall I find rest <- another soulmate agszc (?) dimension cross but this one is 100k+ of post AC cloud and Tifa waking up and deciding to make it everyone else's problem. They're so done with all the drama. Bamf nibel duo to the end and Tifa is the mvp. Unfinished.

Advanced release <- 250k+ and it's sephiroth receiving the original game in a strange packet that appeared in his room. It spirals into a messy and painful exposure of conspiracy, lies and inevitable tragedy. Video game logic is a running gag and zack remains the only actually stable person in the whole sorry mess but he's also Having a Terrible Experience. Really well written!!! Unfinished.

On broken wings <- 160k+ of pure post AC sephiroth redemption from his pov. Him struggling to find his place in a new world and experience real human connection evolves into MOOGLE EMBASSY need I say more?? Unfinished.

With Great Power Comes Meddling Fucking Gods <- 470k+! Poly WEAPON cloud gets yoinked back to the past (feat agzs), dies for a few days and misses his family SO bad but he is determined to change the future for the better. Probably the most healthy and mature cloud ever lol. Unfortunately for him, insane!sephiroth is pulling a inner hollow and gaia herself isn't talking. If you like symbolism, whoo boy!! The dream sequences are a DOOZY (and drowning in eroticism). Wonderfully written, the divide between sane!sephiroth and his counterpart is really cool to see. E rated at times but it's absolutely DELIGHTFUL and WEAPON cloud is such a treat. And I cannot emphasise enough the symbolism. Zackkura (kinda) and slow burn! Unfinished.

A brand need not be seen <- 180k+ in a world of soulmates where the four firsts have clouds name on their wrists. Trooper cloud is tentatively, desperately hopeful. Then a smoking hot op af adult cloud appears, with no names on his wrists at all. It's a really cute flirty fic despite covering shinra politics, identity crises, huge self worth issues, lots of trauma, and finding your own place in the world. Unfinished.

Memory's struggle <- 250k+ of cascading time travel. Basically everyone goes back, which goes great XD. Everyone... Except cloud. I read this a while ago but I do remember poor cloud just getting loved and spoiled by literally everyone and freaking out about it lmao. He was so confused! Unfinished.

Additional edit:

A solitude of space <- a wonderfully soothing 90k complete of sephiroth getting resurrected and moving to stardew valley to become the farmer. It's sooooo peaceful and following him as he grows into his own person and experiences real normality and community is lovely, if a touch angsty. Eventual sefikura with cloud moving to the farm when he's not doing deliveries. It's just. Really nice. I think I cried at the end. Finished!

One-Winged Angel's Self-Saving System <- 55k+ sephiroth enters the Chinese fantasy Scum Villain world in place of the scum villain himself! (He's the third person to take on that role, but who's counting?) Reborn into a plant body he's set loose on an unsuspecting world with a completely different magic system (sentient swords! Immortality!), with only the guide of a mysterious hallucinated ai. Freedom to make his own choices! Aroallo seph rep! He messes up the plot so bad, recruiting accidental love interests with kill counts and resurrecting long lost immortals. It can get a bit heavy but it's really fun and sephiroth has no intention of ever going back. Unfinished.

The SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun <- 73k+ of the opposite of the last fic: the scum villain (the 2nd) gets isekai'd into sephiroth! Shen qingqiu, aka the modern world native shen yuan, fails to resurrect into his prepared plant body and wakes up in a new fictional world, once again as the villain. With his limited memory of the games and his immense knowledge of cultivation (scum villains magic system) he tries to get a grasp on his new life while evading hojo, the president, his new subordinates and the war front while cultivating to immortality - something shinra is VERY interested in. When I tell you these two fics have a GRIP on me. I've written so many fic ideas around them. It's actually insane. The first thing he does is completely redecorate his rooms and buy a whole new wardrobe, which is totally not suspicious XD. Unfinished.

The fifth act <- 160k, it's a good ol' time travel fic - with a twist. The truest exploration of ripples in a pond, or how kindness, when true, can be returned in most unexpected ways. Or maybe how a single act of good can change the world.... Or maybe it's about how you must never turn your back on an enemy. Cloud has people to save and people to kill, and only time will tell which is which. Complete.

Of Things That May Be Only 'Verse <- another series! At 250k, it's about sephiroth resurrecting, only to, uh, slip and crack his head lol. This sends him spiralling through a vision of a cosy life he'd never dreamed, and when he wakes up? He wants it so bad. But that means behaving. Slow burn sefikura redemption, side Cid/Vincent (vincid?) which ngl did convince me of the ship, domestic fluffiness and found family galore! And the whole series is complete!!

Little seph <- a 160k series about the AC sephiroth revival going wrong. Stuck in the body of a kid, post AC sephiroth is a feral kitten carefully domesticated with the power of pancakes, wing preening, and deeply uncomfortable sleepovers. He's a brat, a pest, a murder machine, but he just wants to be part of a family even if he pretends he doesn't. Eventual sefikura, and overall just a very good read. Fully complete!

We are no heroes <- 70k series, about a secretly time travelled sephiroth desperately trying to save his friends and finally, maybe, rest. When I tell you this had me SOBBING. I was BAWLING. Extremely good, zack is best boy. This man is just so tired. Beautiful descriptions. And, again, complete! Yay!

[queen-of-elves]

Spilled wine

Summary: These events were all the same, the same names, the same faces, at least that's what Aemond had always thought.

A/N: this is more of a crack fic but not really? Basically everyone is friends and happy haha but not really. Aemond still has the scar but it happened during some summer vacation and it was a complete accident + Aemond getting his walls knocked down by reader and being absolutely whipped for her

Btw this is probably the most ambitious fanfic I ever attempted to write when it comes to the word count, so I am sort of proud of myself

Fanarts for this fanfic: The snap screenshot, some sketches of outfits, kiss

Masterlist

Words: 8,7K

Warnings: english is not my first language, drinking, mention of dr*gs, alcohol consumption, minimum use of Y/N, male oc present at the table, swearing, +18 themes but not smut

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Red and white

Aemond did not appreciate his mother pushing him into attending these kinds of events. Opulent and full of rich fellow friends of his sickly father. This was nothing more than a powertrip for their egos. Socialize, make connections and exploit them in the foreseeable future.

And this event was a definition of what he hated. Noone was there to actually enjoy themself, it was all an illusion. This was a competition: who can get more information while sipping on their drinks, who could manipulate another investor after doing lines in the dim bathrooms, who could win another connection to centuries old wealth. Aemond felt sick to his stomach over these thoughts even though he was born into this world. However, the worst part of this whole farce was that he needed none of that, except his grandfather did. His scheming got even more out of control since Aegon moved into Aemond's apartment, destroying his plans of him being the heir to their father’s company by being a reckless drunk out in the open.

And now he was standing next to him in a freshly pressed suit, dark green fabric turning black in the evening darkness. He once found suits and formal clothing as a second skin, armor he could hide underneath but they were now constricting him. Aemond’s younger self was always obsessed with this image of the perfect son. Well educated, polite, manners of the perfect gentlemen, perfect son, perfect in everything. PERFECT. The older he grew the more he started to resent the word, the more he started to fear it in some way. No matter how much he tried, it was never enough. While his brother was failing in everything he touched, Aemond was succeeding and it was all for nothing. 

His mother was giddy to introduce him to people, ready to make a match of him and some rich lady, probably at the instigation of his grandfather. Another face, another introduction. Aemond did not remember the new rich people introduced to him by his mother. And why should he, he did not expect to see them again. 

He already knew the proper aces in the field since he was 9 years old, he remembered well Lannisters who did business with his father through their banks or the Royce family, giants in the food industry and of course Hightowers, his grandfather’s and his mother’s name, his uncle Gwayne being one of the best lawyers. Aemond was meant to soon join him, after he finishes his studies.

When I finish college.

There were many more of these names, sewed into his brain since a young age but these names did not change, they were all playing the same game with the same moves with the same chess pieces since he was born. Generational wealth hiding from the new kind, gatekeeping their society from the rest, while they enjoyed parties with the best of the best.

“Oh, Aemond, do you remember Margaret Baeltigar?” Soft touch of his mother’s hand, almost as if burning him, woke him up from his thoughts. He had no recollection of such a lady, maybe she was one of Alicent’s so-called friends or maybe some wife of an investor in the family’s company.

The lady was slightly older than his mother, clad in a light blue gown, her boney hand clutching her glass of champagne. She was the kind of skinny only obtainable by starvation, unhealthy diet. The smile she gave him was forced, too much white pearly teeth showing for his liking and for it to be sincere. Her posture was rigid as if she was posing and maybe she was, to him, to his mother, to everyone.

“Of course.” The polite small smile fell unappreciated since her gaze had already turned away, wide eyes searching for something specific, someone specific in the crowd of empty faces.

“Here she is…” Those words seemed forced, like an unwanted gift you still have anticipated, so you keep smiling to please the donor. “Finally.” Her mouth was once again outstretched in that horrendous toothy smile, lips almost cracking under the strain of holding it all together. Boney arms holding out for a hug.

“Hello.” There was a polite voice behind him but he did not turn. Aemond already knew what this was about, this was not the first time he would get ambushed by his mother’s scheming mind into the web of being introduced to some bratty heiress. He did not even notice when his brother ran off, probably searching for another drink or a white powder to misuse, leaving Aemond to fend for himself. 

The young lady moved in a nonchalant manner, her attention solely on her mother and her outstretched arms. The hug was awkward, he could feel the deja vu pulsing through him. Image of Aemond and his mother enveloped in such a hug. A constant reminder of the chasm between them over unsaid things.

The stark contrast between the mother and her daughter was apparent. Boney corpse parading around the mirage of a living body dressed in light blue dress and young lady in red, bow tying it all around her neck, accompanying her.

“This is my daughter.” 

“It’s so lovely to meet you, dear.” The smile on his mother’s face was sincere, in some manner she was always excited to meet new young ladies, if it was ‘cause of her single sons or lonely daughter he did not know.

“Oh, thank you.” There was untypical shiness to her, voice not trembling but slightly fighting to be heard in the overabundance of loud talking. She seemed confident enough next to her own mother just like he was next to his. Her bright eyes had moved from Alicent to him and Aemond recognized the uneasiness in them. Used to the parties but not used to the contact with people at them.

“I am Y/N-” Her words just like her unstretched hand toward him were interrupted by her mother abruptly moving to the side. Attention of everyone in the conversation then shifted to the new face entering in. Another young woman, this time more similar to the mother in her face, same structure but much younger was now staring at him, grinning widely. The white dress shining in the light.

“Oh, you have to meet my oldest! She is such a delight!” This time Mrs. Baeltigar’s voice was high pitched, excitement radiating from the statement.  This was the second time Aemond felt deja vu struck him on this particular night. Oldest and delight, that’s how his mother used to talk about Aegon in front of everyone. Her most prized son, a son who did not care for his education and ended up on his younger brother’s coach, hiding from the rest of the family. 

The Baeltigar’s oldest daughter was marching right to them the moment she realized her mothers presence. Almost bumping into one of the waitresses' sides, overjoyed by the possible introduction, she clung to her mother’s thin left arm. 

“Margo Baeltigar, pleasure to meet you,” Margo’s voice was similar to her mother’s high pitch and sugary, leaving a sour taste in Aemond. The oldest was almost hyper focused on him and before he could even react to her introduction, she opened her mouth again but no words got to him. Because while this conversation took place the other sister carefully navigated her way around her sister’s body, moving into the background. Her figure slowly and unnoticed disappearing behind the two M named ladies, fighting for his and Alicent's attention.

There was a heavy stone set in his throat, his stomach fluttering at the same time and Aemond did not know what it meant, not yet. 

Aemond was thankful for not being seated at the same table as his mother or anyone from his family and while the company next to him was quite boring he knew it could have always been worse. Five seats out of six already occupied, he was not expecting any miracles from the last person yet to arrive. 

On his right was one of his father’s long term investors with his wife, a quiet old man with an already full belly even before the food had yet to arrive, his wife still yapping in her husband’s ear since they were seated, while on his left were two other men, one of them younger than the other. The younger one seemed like a total newcomer to this kind of event, to this kind of society too, his eyes constantly darted from one table to another, trying to identify everyone present. However, the man next to him was the opposite, comfortably sprawled in his seat, his hand leaning on the young man’s chair, black eyes observing his behavior, finding amusement in it. His smooth hair was graying just like his beard but there was pleasant handsomeness in his face. 

“I was almost afraid you would run off,” The silver fox at their table spoke up, gaze heading to someone behind his shoulder, the last person finally arrived at their table.  Aemond was only slightly interested in the person, another short distraction in a long night, he knew them all and quite frankly, they were all boring. 

The figure moved, he could feel the movement behind him, wind picking up, fabric rustling, heels clicking. A woman. Or a very short man, he had noticed several guys trying to hide their shortage, pun intended, by clapping heels hidden beneath longer suit pants. 

His hand gripped the champagne flute, glass slick with condensation, almost causing shivers down his spine. The liquid was bitter, bubbles fizzing on his tongue, and for a second it was an uncomfortable feeling before the drink slid down. In moments like these Aemond understood why his brother was always drinking, in the end there was nothing else to do. 

The new addiction to the table was finally at her seat, still chatting with the man. And just like the bubbles his boredom fizzled off. The bow was gone and she was no longer wearing the pretty red dress. Her current dress was snow white, like fresh cotton sheets, and on one shoulder. The fabric was dangling off her in an awkward manner, almost as if it was not meant for her. Her shoulders were hidden by black suit jacket, a decent and modest combo, however, it was apparent the outfit was not meant to be this way.

But white suits her.

“Don’t worry, I just went to save my sister.” The almost silver haired man moved the empty chair for her to sit in more comfortably, too eager for a new distraction at the table just like Aemond was. And once again Aemond felt something within him move, how did they know each other, were they close, he might be years older than her but even his mother was significantly younger than his father. 

“Oh, what has she done this time?” Laughter erupted from the man, cheeks blooming red. For a moment, Aemond thought she would take offense to such a statement, he probably would but only in the sense of feeling embarrassment for himself stemming from his brother’s failures. In some sense he loved his brother but on most days he was exploding in anger over Aegon’s public mistakes.

 However, she only sheepishly grinned before motioning to her side. “Spilled some wine on herself.” And truly there it was, ugly red stain on her hip, the jacket covering it just enough to not be prominent in the evening dim lighting, saving her from judging glares.

“Of course you did.” This time the man was the one with a sheepish smile hiding behind his glass, twinkle in his eyes indicating some kind of hidden joke. 

The Targaryen felt like he was the only one witnessing the conversation even though the full table’s attention was turned to two. His eyes were scanning her face, then the dress and then her face again. She acted as if she was so used to it and there was silent understanding on his part for such action. It wasn’t long before the two noticed his unmoving gaze, while the other occupants of the table turned to their own matters.

“I suppose our introduction was cut short. I am Y/-,” He did like her smile, it was soft, not quite reaching her eyes, not in a malicious kind of way. To an untrained eye it would only seem like a sincere reaction, to Aemond’s it was apparent her smile was the result of years of practice. 

“I know.” His voice cut through her sentence like a hot knife, stopping her completely. Aemond knew of his talent to be awfully cold to people but this time he had truly overdone himself. The smile he rewarded her with, trying to improve his reputation, only received by a puzzled look from her and her companion. 

This night can’t get worse.

Rough grimace struck his face, muscles twitching under the pressure of his failing. He was good at this, he was good at these events. So why was he fucking it all up today? Bitter feeling bit his throat and he wished he could swallow all the shame in the world, devour every mistake he ever made so no one could gaze upon them and he would be perfect again. Was it because she felt familiar to him? Because she had the same watchful eyes behind her every step, watching her to complain about her wrong doings? Or maybe he was completely wrong and playing himself entirely.

After the food arrived, most of the over the table conversation had died down, except for a few whispers here and there between some of them. He did not register any kind of taste, all was now in a fog to him, the illusion of a perfect man shattering with each glance turned to her. Only consolation prize to him were the few and far inbetween looks she rewarded him with. The plates with food were gone just as fast as they appeared, all in a flash moving forward. It was time to go out, social torture once again in progress. 

And at the end of the night, when most of the guests had already left and the rest were getting ready to leave, he saw a glimpse of her saying goodbye to the older man from their table. Aemond realized he never got to know his name but he knew he could turn the tables, he could make this right again. 

There was not much left of the courage in him on this grim night, but what was left had to be sufficient for now. His movement was rigid, he weaved between the people, tables and chairs, mind almost blank except for the command to move forward, to go to her.

“Hi.” Was his voice always so rough? He tried to swallow with no success, the lump in his throat winning.

“Hi.” Her eyes were wide, caught by surprise, she moved to fully face him. The light softly illuminated her face, giving her a certain glow he knew he would never forget. There just was something so familiar about her. Like a picture he has seen before but now had no recollection of. Have they already met? He couldn’t remember even though he really wanted to.

“Sorry about the…” His head moved to their table, indicating what he meant without having to say that. Aemond was sure he would spontaneously combust if he had to talk about his own rudeness caused by the unfamiliar uneasiness in his stomach more than this.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Her answer was so casual, as if his rude behavior was long gone from her mind, while he wanted the opposite even if it were her remembering only the worst stuff about him. He needed her to remember him.

He could hear someone call her name, the shadow of her mother frantically waving her hand at them, signaling something to her. There was a drunk mess of a person even further behind her mother, hair everywhere, red dress tripping her on uneasy legs.

It was an image he was so used to by now, but this time, it was not his responsibility. It was someone else’s. And somehow it changed nothing, there was a bile rising up inside him, hands sweaty and heart beating too fast, such a familiar situation he saw her in. It was like looking in the mirror.

She was biting her lip anxiously, some part of her evidently annoyed at her sister and he wanted to tell her to never ever do that again. He wanted to take all her worries away, he wanted to do that for her.

“Sorry…” Her shoulders visibly slumped, one of her shoulders escaping from under the black jacket. “Have to go.” Her manicured thumb pointing behind her, at the mess she was meant to deal with. Her older sister was drunk off her mind, stumbling in the crowd, the man with her unable to hold her straight up, part of him found relief in the fact Aegon was not with her. One of her heels dangled off the man’s hand while the other wrestled to keep her on her feet.

“Have a great night!” Aemond thought these words might haunt him for the rest of his life, the rest of the night squished into few fragments of him saying bye to people and getting back to his apartment, while some part of him was still stuck in the moment with her.

Teal blue

This time she was wearing teal blue gown, satin complementing her skin like nothing he has ever seen. Her smile was wide and even though Aemond saw her only in passing, a warm feeling spread through his insides. Since their first encounter he had chastised himself for his behavior, praying for a chance to redeem himself to her.

However, they were not seated at the same table and for once he found himself disappointed for the lack of his mother's interference. And so after losing Aegon, in the crowd, even though he was meant to babysit him after his last drunk tirade at some club went public, he began mapping the whole place in hope to find the teal gown in the crowd. 

It was after the obnoxious dinner that he found her standing next to the bar, the silverfox by her side once again. Aemond could not hear them but it seemed as an interesting conversation by the way her arms flailed while explaining something. Wide grins spreaded over both of their faces before a round of giggles overcame them. Faced near each other in secretive closeness, they held on the other’s arms strongly while their bodies shook in held down laughter.

He wanted to know what they were to each other, how back they went and why they held each other so familiarly and he wanted to do the same with her. It was like a new emotion, jealousy he had never experienced. 

His pleading stares must have awoken some mercy in her. The young lady bid goodbye to her friend and gracefully walked over to him, still holding his gaze. And even though Aemond’s attention the whole night was fixated on the image of her, now that she was there, he was lost for words. 

“Evening.” The cheeky smile was back and if it was to disarm him it worked perfectly. Lost in his nervous thoughts, he chewed on his cheek, an anxiety filled bad habit he picked up as a kid. It took him a moment to realize she was patiently waiting for his reply. He completely forgot he was meant to give her his greeting too.

“Evening.” He could only mutter his reply. Needles of uneasiness prickling along his spine, giddy feeling spread through him now that he was once again near her. He needed to set it right, courage boiling his throat but no words came out, he was overwhelmed by all of it. His solace was found in a similar scene in front of him. 

She, like himself, was in a frozen state, mouth open, ready to speak and eyes moving all around the room, searching for something to say. Both of them desperately need to say something to the other, not only to fill the silence but for the simple reason to converse with the other one. 

The voices and music completely overwhelmed them and while they hoped it would soothe some of the anxiety over their failed meetings it only fueled their nerves more. Their eyes met again, corners of their mouths simultaneously lifted, smiling like idiots. And there was a silent understanding between them. The ballroom is too loud, let’s move it to the balcony.

The balcony itself was absolutely quiet, there was no one who would disturb them. Night cold breeze was slowly picking up but the heat from the inside was enough to keep them satisfied. He could not see the outside properly, lights blinding his vision of their surroundings and he liked it this way. 

Maybe this time he would not come off as a rude idiot to her, maybe this time it could all end well. Both of them stood with their backs to the lights of the ballroom, only darkness before them and cold railing underneath their hands. The silence between them was comfortable, for now at least.

Aemond was aware of the intense stare she was giving him, precisely his fake eye and the scar dividing the bad eye socket into two. It had been years since he gained the injury, the scar no longer dark reddish color but more of a white pink, it faded slowly, plus his mother begged his father to pay for laser treatment to help it fade out quicker. He also got gifted the new fake eye, his mother was absolutely ecstatic over it, her sweet son’s face finally appeared more normal. 

He knew she did not mean it that way but it still hurt, and the eye itself hurt or maybe it was the injury itself. If only he could wear his eyepatch to these kinds of events but according to his mother it was too eye-catching (pun not intended) compared to the fake eye even though if someone looked at him for too long they would probably notice not only the scar but the fact he could not fully open the eye or the lack of movement in it. And so fake eye it was.

“How did it happen?” Her eyes softly cascaded over his face before settling on his bad eye again.

“It was…,” Aemond felt like he couldn’t breathe, not this conversation again ,” an unfortunate accident.” Over the years he had dozens upon dozens of people asking him the same question and not stopping snooping even with his short answers cutting them off.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Her attention turned to the crowd behind them, they might have moved to one of the balconies but the noise of people was still present.

“It’s okay.” He hummed, never knowing what to say to those who pitied him over the injury. “It happened years ago.” Aemond hardly ever thought about it now, it worked as a bitter reminder of his own carelessness in the end. And while some responsibility laid with his cousins and brother he knew it was his decision, he couldn’t blame them for it even if he did at the start.

“It’s more purple.” Her attention was back on him, staring right at  the fake eye once again.

“What?”

“The other eye.” Her delicate hand pointed to his left side of face. “It’s more purple.” Aemond knew the prosthetic he got was not identical in the color to his other eye and while others claimed he was only imagining it, he knew. He knew it was not the exact shade of purple like his other eye.

People always saw the younger son of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, second born son, the Targaryen boy, not Aemond. Not the young Baeltigar, she looked at him, not through him, not at his family, not at his very possibly, almost surely, shiny future thanks to his name.

He had never felt so seen in his life and being known by her became a carnal need to him.

This time it was his mother who called for a saving of an older sibling, in the middle of the night Aegon had sneaked away from Cole’s watchful eyes and ended up drunk as the dirty pig he was. They must have found him half asleep on some naked lady’s back in one of the private rooms of the manor the event was at, his hair was a complete mess, his earring already gone and tie let loose. Aemond expected him in a worse state than this, most of the time he was called to him half dead, this was nothing compared to those times. But his mother was red faced, completely embarrassed by his brother’s antics.

Light pink

It was weird, feeling this nauseating feeling within him. Aemond felt like a little boy again, excited for another gala where he could show how perfect of a son he is. When he was still a child he would parade himself around, maybe because his mother and father did not, while Aegon got all the attention. 

However, this time it was different, this time it was only because of one person, one person’s perception of him. He was excited to see her and for her to see him. Their last talk left him hopeful for more.

This time it was her who found him, dressed in light pink fabric that was easily floating around her in the soft breeze, she found him right after dinner. He was just thinking about the appetizer, perfectly composed plate with balanced flavors but he could not figure out what the sauce was made out of. It was a little game he liked to play with himself, so he wouldn’t lose his mind over the boredom. 

“Are our meetings destined to be cut short every single time?” With a champagne flute in hand, another occupied by a whole bottle of it, casually staring him down with a light smile gracing her face, she talked comfortably to him.

“Hope not.” He could feel corners of his mouth twitching and soon a similar smile appeared on his face. It warmed his heart that she was the one to find him, that he was not the only one searching for her and she herself was on a mission to find him. 

Just like the white dress, or any other actually, the light pink shade suited her. The thin fabric of the short sleeves hid her shoulders away from him but he was still fascinated by the soft skin of the inside of her arm.  He could feel the twitch of his fingertips over the thought of touching her there. 

Once again soft silence creeped on them while the both of them observed his older brother, balancing one glass of whiskey in his hand while trying to stay upright, his attention far away from the liquor spilling over the brim but on the young lady in front of him. If it was anyone else Aemond might have felt embarrassment bubbling up to the surface but since he had seen her own older sister in similar state, her presence left him unmoved by it. 

“I think some part of me hates him.” The words left him before he could fully comprehend what he was saying.

She hummed at that, it was a comforting sound he did not deserve, at least in his head. No proper brother could say something like this about his sibling. Regret was a bitter friend to his heart and to his mind. He should not have said that, not to her, she should not know how angry he was inside. 

“He is my brother.” He tried to convince her of his sins against his family, his kin. Part of him did not want to acknowledge fully what he said, he prayed to stay in her good grace, in everyone’s good grace by being the good son, the good Targaryen boy, polite, smart, sophisticated.

.

“I know.” She laughed with ease and Aemond knew the bitter feeling was not going to fade away, as always. He could not escape the regret of speaking out, he did not deserve any pity.

“It’s so hard to explain to anyone.” The words fell off his tongue so freely, Aemond thought someone else was using his mouth to voice out their concern. 

“Right?” Another comforting sound came out of her and maybe the bitterness could fade away from him, from both of them. He could feel it radiating from her skin, they were so similar and unaware of it until now.  “Everyone always tells me to just let it go-, you don’t own them anything and yadayada-, but I can’t-”

“Because she is your sister.” Before she could finish, he knew what she was going to say, he knew those words too well. Everyone said them to him, let it go, let your brother go, he will fuck up and he will have to solve it. However, he could not because in the end he was the one getting voicemails of his drunk brother’s voice, panicked calls from his mother, there was no escaping it, his blood, his family tree tied him to this whole mess. Just like her.

“Yeah…” she nodded, tired from the whole situation. “Exactly.” He did not like the line between her brows, frown caused by his voice, his words. He wished to never see that expression on her face ever again.

“We can’t save them.” The wind pushed the words away from the pair and neither of them knew who uttered them first or who regretted them before the other one.

Another sip of champagne turned into two and then a long gulp, they shared the alcohol so freely, Aemond felt like he could fly in the sky, happy butterflies flapping their wings on the inside of him. She soon downed her flute and instead of filling it back up her hand set the glass down with a clink. 

The light from the ballroom framed her perfectly, creating a vibrant halo around her silhouette. And again Aemond was lost at the vision of her. She was so comfortable in her skin, in her own struggles, in this situation. She felt comfortable even to him and he wanted her to remain comfortable for the rest of her life.

And so he nudged her shoulder with the champagne bottle, creating a moist trace below her armlet. For a moment he was hypnotized by the droplet and its slick path trailing down her arm. He envied it for even a longer moment, to trace her skin to him is to die of the fire inside him. 

Her hand gripped the bottle, tilting it slightly, another sip of the still cold liquor ended in her mouth. And with that he realized she drank alcohol like Aegon did, with no struggle, with no twitch in her face over the bitter taste, like she liked the feeling of it hitting her tongue. He missed the weight of the bottle in his hand and the empty feeling started to itch on his skin, before he realized.

It felt almost intimate, his cheeks aflame and the little boy in him was kicking his feet. An indirect kiss. He drank from the bottle himself before her, their lips touched the same surface.

He did not even notice how the evening turned into a night, only darkness now facing them on the balcony high above ground. Voices behind them have yet to tune down but he could feel the event slowly ending.

And the familiar man was back, simply nodding to her not daring to step even a bit to them, only glancing at them from the inside of the big hall. The smile on his face might have been in a friendly manner but his round glasses hide the glint in his black eyes.

“What are you two?” Throughout their conversations Aemond realized he liked how she enjoyed his forwardness, just like he did with her. There was no shame between them.

“Me and…” there was a slight twitch in her face and she tried to contain it, unsuccessfully in the end “Kim?” 

Kim. 

He did not mind the name, it went over his tongue and he swallowed it slowly. It was not a name he hated, it just felt unfamiliar. However, he was not afraid of it, not with her by his side. The fox be damned.

The laughter was soft, almost scaring him for a moment. Whispered giggles as if she tried to hold it in, turned into a full blown cackling. Her body bending forward with hand set on her stomach, she looked at him, shining once again. 

“He is my friend. Like an uncle… some sort of, I guess.” She giggled at these words. Quick glance and he saw Kim looking their way again, smirking in a conspicuous manner. 

“Oh.” Embarrassment reddened his cheeks, shattering any kind of thoughts left in his stupid thick skull, except for the two voices.

Of course.

They are just friends.

Calm down.

Thank god.

Tucking on his sleeve, he turned his full attention back to her. His body was so close to hers, he could almost distinguish the shape of the lights reflecting in her eyes. And her wide eyes only stared at him. Aemond could get used to this kind of attention, he loved it too much for his liking. It was intoxicating.

Her arms enveloped him, she folded him into her embrace like it was nothing, it was an instinct to her. Even Aemond could feel she needed him close, a secret message embedded into the touch but the meaning was evading him. Both of them knew though, this meant something to both of them and it calmed them.

She was holding him so close and so gently, he never ever experienced something like this. No one ever treated him this way, he almost thought he did not deserve it. It was foreign but not unpleasant but he still felt undeserving of this. To receive kindness was a different kind of punishment for him. Warm touch burning him to the bones, scarring him, it was an awful feeling like nothing else. However, this felt holy, as if gods decided to bless his horrible mind. His horrible mind that only thought of her, how he could keep himself in her presence. She was warm and kind, dark as a shadow and present in everything. No, there might be a holiness in her touch, that kind he might become slave to, but to her, there was nothing saint. She was rotten, broken and mend on the inside like him and still she decided to look at him as if complete, as if she accepted it. And Aemond knew he could never get enough of it.

At that moment it was apparent to him. Hell existed and for them it was their sacrifices for their families, expected of them and without reward. Hell for them was sewed into their blood and they couldn’t do anything about it just obey the law set upon them by the iron chain in their veins. 

Her movement unsettled him, afraid of losing her warmth, calmness now in disarray in his heart. She moved away, just slightly but enough that they could see into each other's eyes and there was uncommon indecision in her stare, and then she moved again.

The first touch of her lips was hesitant, almost shy and maybe it was all the alcohol playing with his brain, Aegon oftentimes blabbered with his drunk mouth about beautiful dreams of even more beautiful ladies before Aemond woke him up to get him home. But if it was a dream, he hoped it would last a lifetime before he himself had to be awoken.

It was soft, almost innocent. Her lips just gently touched his before courage overtook her and something hungry awoke in him. What was once a gentle embrace soon turned into a violent clash, their mouths fighting against each other, devouring more and more of the other person. There was no stopping now, any kind of will of holding themselves back was gone forever. They stepped over the line, now open for crossing.

Her hand gripped his forearm urging him closer, each kiss more hungry, igniting something within him. Soon a soft skin met his neck, gripping the hair at the base and tugging. In that moment his legs almost gave up on him, the overwhelming feeling consuming him completely, his mind, his body and his soul. 

That's how life should be, he thought, being drunk and kissing a pretty girl, kissing her.

Her warmth suddenly left him and the young Targaryen had no desire to open his eyes, too afraid of the dream ending. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed he would never wake up, she would never leave and her touch on his skin would be still present.

Another soft kiss tore him up from that fantasy, this time on his cheek and what he saw was a vision he never wished to forget. Her cheeks were red, hair a complete mess, absolutely breathless, trying to calm down but still the most beautiful person he has ever met. Pupils blown wide moving across his face, her smile reached her eyes and her whole face was bright.

“I have to go.” He did not like those words. No, there was no ending to it now, they were meant to kiss forever until both of them suffocated, unable to leave the presence of the other.

“No.” His voice was hoarse but the implication of his words seemed too stern for his fogged brain. 

“My taxi is here.” Her hand moved, pointing to the yellow car parked and waiting for the next passenger. The smile she gave him was reassuring, lulling him back to the foggy fantasy of kissing her again. 

“Oh.” 

He watched her wave goodbye to a few people, leaving in their own cars or by other taxis, he himself should get moving, find his brother and leave too. However, he could not move, his body rigidly straightened, neck craning to catch a few last more glimpses of the car she left in. 

And even with her once again gone, Aemond’s mind was dizzy and belly full of butterflies.

“Awww, you smooched the girl.” His brother giggled from the coach, his form morphing into the soft cushions, with one of his sweaty hands grasping for the bottle set on the coffee table. While his brother was occupying the coach, his oldest cousin took the armchair next to it, spreaded out just like Aegon. Luke, the younger cousin of his, was meanwhile seated next to his brother but on the ground with his back to the armchair, with one cushion stuffed under him, functioning like a seat.

All of them were in some state of disarray, of course his brother the most. Aegon’s tie was missing, just like his suit jacket and one of his shoes. If he knew one of his feet was bare, not counting the dirty sock still stuck on it, he did not let it be known by anyone. The white shirt he wore was sticking to his skin and some of the buttons were undone throughout the night, Aemond could see the tiny stain on his right wrist. White wine or whiskey, he wasn't sure. Compared to him both of Jace’s shoes were present, his hair a complete mess just like Aemond’s, and while he took off his own suit jacket it was apparent that tomorrow won’t be pleasant for his head. The most kept of them was young Luke presumably because Jace did not let him drink more than a flute of champagne through the dinner and a few sips of the wine served at the event.  

“You didn’t have to call them here.” Aemond waved his hand to their cousins. His older brother decided to end his night with a big sweet treat as a finale, Aemond’s humiliation. It took him one text, snap exactly, to their cousin Jace and they were all here, in Aemond’s apartment. At least Baela and her sister went out for more drinks and were not present, plus Heleana already left because she felt too tired, bless her heart.

“Oh, come on.” Aegon was enjoying it all, the panicked expression of his brother, the utter confusion of their cousins and most of all, the drink he was finishing. “Take this as a…,” his arms motioned into the open living room, searching for the correct words,“family bonding experience, eh?” His brother’s face was once again graced by a cheeky smirk. Once more Aemond felt like a joke, as a tired, drunk joke but he knew if he decided to go to bed, sleep would not overcome him, only panic would.

“So… How did it happen?” Young Luke piped up, his ears turning a light shade of pink. At least Aemond was not the only one embarrassed by the conversation.

“Well-, I-I kissed her?” Shrugging his shoulders, Aemond tried to act as if talking about it was not bothering him at all, as if it was another normal conversation.

“That sounded more like a question, mate.” This time it was Jace who spoke up, not giving Aemond even a glance, occupied by his phone, possibly texting Baela, while still part of the conversation.

“We… kissed…” He was at a loss of words, how does he describe it…. It wasn’t like this was Aemond’s first kiss, far from that. There were some girls in school when he was younger, few relationships, notably with Alys, that one had a nasty end. “And… so- like…,” The whole conversation was not only irritating his nerves and his brain but his eye, the old scar pulsing under the pressure of the talk and even the fake eye.

Fuck. I need to get it out.

Aemond was still uncomfortable with taking his fake eye out in front of… well basically anyone and while he could go search for the eyepatch he wore instead of the artificially created prosthetic, his nerves did not allow him to move.

His silence was not taken lightly by the men in his living room, each of them racking their brains as to why someone like him was unable to describe what happened.

“But it was like…” Jace nodded his head, trying to indicate the words without saying them,” y��know… consensual?” At this Aemond’s pacing stopped, it all happened too fast. Did HE kiss her first? He definitely didn’t have enough courage to kiss her first, did he? Maybe the alcohol, maybe she… 

“I… think so?” Memories in Aemond’s head started to swim, prompted by an anxious feeling setting in his chest, messing up his perception of the events or maybe it was the alcohol…

“Okay…” He did not like this reaction from his brother one bit, nerves one level higher and he might definitely explode. The whole room was slowly but surely getting influenced by his own nerves in the end not helping him ease his mind at all, more like provoking him to descend to madness more and more.

“So that kiss was like… alright, eh?” Aegon’s unsure face was also not helping his nervous mind.

“Eh…” He did not like this sound, he himself did not know where it came from but the tone prompted everyone to silently pounder for a few seconds before they arrived at their separate conclusions.

All eyes turned to his tall frame, mouths slowly opening. “Don’t.” He tried to shut them down promptly, hand raised at them once again, especially if their conclusion was that he was a bad kisser.

“But what if she actually doesn’t like you?” Aegon’s words cause them to think again while Aemond pointed his finger at him, fuming and ready to slap his brother over the head.

“Wait a second…” He tried to gain footing in the conversation but it was a losing battle. “I am just saying that-” This time Aemond was sure to swat his hand toward his brother, meters away, meant to not cause any harm but to at least scare him a bit.

“Hold on,-” Luke was unsuccessfully trying to defuse the situation, getting this conversation might have been going the wrong route.

“He did not mean it like that!” Jace too tried to intercede the whole ordeal but just like his younger brother completely unsuccessful.

“Yeah and how the FUCK did he mean it then!?” Aemond’s nerves finally gave up, letting out his fury. 

“Calm DOWN!” The armchair under Jace screeched after he pushed it in an attempt to stand up, ending up back in it after losing his balance.

“He WAS JUST SAYIN-” It was Luke’s turn to get up or it was simply prompted by his brother moving his back support. 

“I DON’T CARE!” His throat felt tight, scratched from the volume of his voice. He knew he was losing it but he could not stop.

The words took everyone by surprise. They were used to some mean and angry words from Aemond, he was antisocial on his better days and if pushed far enough he would get cruel in some fucked up way to hide himself from the world. However, to see him bubble over, to let himself scream so unapologetically… this was the first time for any of them to witness, even Aegon got quiet.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” It came out more like a whisper, an involuntary sound escaped him and Aemond was finally ready to collapse, to throw it all out of the window, lose it completely and most embarrassingly ready to cry in front of them.

“I mean, maybe she likes y-” Aegon’s voice piped from his right, still on the coach he was subtly hiding behind his now empty beer bottle.

“YOU said that MAYBE SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME!” 

“I am sure she likes you.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?”

“WELL, I WAS NOT THERE!” 

But this time Aegon was down to yelling it out along with his brother, the alcohol or just his rude nature supporting him in the decision. The screaming match went on for quite some time, Luke and Jace slowly joining, the living room becoming louder and louder, Aemond’s downstairs neighbors were sure to call the police any minute now. At the end none of them knew how the screaming match started, who argued with what or what they were arguing about, the alcohol dulling their sense of reason.

“Why are you all yelling?!” Baela’s agitated voice sounded from the front door, she was still in her coat while Rhaena had her shoes already off.

And then inferno began once more, voices shouting over each other in a chaotic symphony.

“RHEANA!”

“BAELA! YOU WON’T BEL-!”

“WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE M-!”

“YO AEMOND KISSED -!”

For a moment they all quieted down, catching their breath, bodies heaving and faces reddened, fingers still pointed at each other. “What?” Rheana asked, turning her gaze to her sister in a confused manner. Baela instead looked unamused partly because she got used to such banter from the younger two men.

“DRINKS!”

All heads turned to Aegon whose attention was now preoccupied by the plastic bag dangling from Baela’s hand. She lifted her hand, dangling it in front of his face as some sort of bait. And while the girls lured Aegon into the kitchen with the bad set down on the kitchen counter, Aemond felt like crying. Crying like when he was a little kid, unable to escape his doom.

Bottles clicked against each other aggravating Aemond even more. His anxiety was spiking up, dizziness almost overcoming him. This could only result in another screaming match between all of them until he would give up and tell them to fuck out of his apartment, Aegon included, even if he had been sleeping on his coach for the last 2 months.

Speaking of which, his brother was once again attempting to open a new bottle of beer while the girls finally sat on the coach previously occupied solely by him. “Thanks for the keys.” Rheana’s outstretched arm was handing him his keys but Aemond felt drained of all energy. Instead of taking them he motioned for her to throw them, catching them with ease. The iron keys to his apartment comfortably cold from the outside night air, grounding him in his own body. He was fine, in his living room, in his apartment… and he was fine.

“So…,” Rheana could feel his uneasiness prompting her to tune down the volume of her voice to a soft mumble, almost whispering, “what was all of this about?” 

“He kissed the girl,” Aegon shared on the behalf of his brother. Aemond was not sure if it was for his own sakes or if he simply wanted to be the one to break the news once again.

“The girl?” Her eyebrows raised, Baela motioned with a light smirk to Jace to continue, to indulge her curiosity. And he would of course indulge her as always. “Yeah.” 

“Wait… what girl?” Her sister spoke up, this time louder while another cheeky smile played on Baela’s face, giggling like a schoolgirl ready to receive another juicy rumor.

So Aemond recounted the story one more time, this time properly with some actual details. They talked, shared some personal stuff, and when it came to saying goodbye she kissed him before leaving in a taxi. He made sure to leave out the details of his knees buckling every time she had touched him or the fact he could still smell her shampoo and was still thinking about her eyes, lips, everything.

“Well, she is the girl.” Baela whispered mischievously, her elbow assaulting her sister’s side before the mischief in her face turned into another loud laughter. Rheana giggles had continued to sound throughout the room, waking him up again.

“Yeah?” Confused grimace overtook Luke’s face, his whole face scrunched in confusion. “So?” With a nod Aemond tried to urge the girls to continue, almost not breathing over what might come out of their mouths. There was hope for his doing and where was hope was also disappointment.

“I can guarantee you she knows that she is THE girl” Rhaena laughed even more. “I mean SHE kissed him!” Aegon gave Aemond a pointed look which turned into a cheeky grin before a hysterical laughter overcame him, realizing they truly might have been overthinking the whole situation. The bottle of beer he was holding up to his mouth for a not sip shaking violently, spilling some of its content out on his shirt, adding to the mess of him.

 “Honestly, guys… I don’t know what you are all debating over” The sisters bumped their shoulders, giggling like little girls, excited over the information. “She obviously likes him.” And even more loud giggles followed, Aegon gradually joining in with his screeching laugh, not holding back.

“Shit.” Faint murmur left his lips. Realization setting in, he might have kissed her but she was definitely the first one to make a move.

This was one of the worst and best nights in his life.

[thatfrailsoul]

(these beautiful pictures are from Pinterest - I will leave the links to them at the end of this post for anyone interested ♡).

Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you and in which pile it hides... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that whenever you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

_

_

Pile one, the fool

Their heart, their soul, feels simply so warm and familiar. So sweet and loving that just a thought about them brings back your smile and hope. Coming into your life out of nowhere, they were able so fast to find space just for them and their light and pure soul. They mesmerize you, they inspire you. As no one really did before. Not to this point...

And there is a reason behind it, behind this pure joy in finding them and that lingering fear that what you've shared until now is all that there is in store for this bond. A reason that you already know and feel in your heart and that will keep you side by side through months, years, decades. Giving an opportunity and help for this connection to grow, adapting to all the phases of your lives, all the ups and downs, surviving through them all.

There is for sure a new beginning, a creation of a much deeper bond, or to be exact an evolution and growth of this one. But there are also many and many others that you don't expect now and that are hidden in the situations and moments in your life that you will go through or observe, as they and you will live them on your own. But both always staying here, with eyes focused on the person that it's already so precious for your souls. And ready to help and hold each others hands without any question, judgment or pity. Ready to support each other's journeys and ideas, dreams, no matter how scary those steps might look like for an uncertain and anxious mind.

All of this... simply because you are indeed a family. Perhaps not by blood, but surely by heart.

_

Pile two, four of wands

It is not a secret for you and them, all those ways that the time and this world keeps challenging your connection again and again. Your hearts one against the other.

But it's also not a secret that you are still and always by each other's side. The life bringing you back one to another, no matter what happens or how much your paths are being divided.

And what happened in all this time up until now... Is reflected by your future too. How much this bond will be able to help you to overcome, how much it will push you to grow and mature through all the ups and downs that characterize a connection. But remaining always the same and old safe place... so familiar and stable in the way nothing seems to be able to tear you apart or change the way you feel about eachother. A safe person that will always welcome you back no matter what.

Even if it will not become something more... Perhaps making it so pure and precious exactly because of that.

_

Pile three, ace of pentacles

They will come to you when you will least expect it. When you already surrendered to loving and appreciating the connection that you were able to create the way it is... They will come to you, surprising you with an opportunity for something more... But not quite what you hoped it to be.

And it will be simply so difficult to find the right way to handle things and them, their new feelings, and the shift that will arrive all of the sudden in your life... It will take time to accept it, accept them, and let go of that desire and hope for more. And especially of the frustration.

But it will pass, as everything does. And your heart will find peace, even reassurance, understanding at last that what they propose doesn't necessary need to be the end of your connection, only because it's different from what you hoped for... But it's actually its salvation.

A chance to still have them in your life, share many more beautiful and precious moments. Perhaps becoming someone even more important and present in each other's lives through many more days and nights.

_

(links to the pictures used in this reading)

_

[gh0stlyb34r]

hai !! im saint / theo !! im a 19 year old age regressor from the uk ! im trans , gay and ace !! I really enjoy star wars , marvel , monster high , call of duty , overwatch , harry potter and more !!

I am currently looking for a caregiver or maybe a flip (I will eventually make a post about this!!)

Im going to post about my agere journey and agere concepts !!

agere fic blog : @b4bywr1t3s

caregiver blog : @royaldaycare

I take requests for moodboards, stimboards and concepts !!!

READ MY RQ RULES BEFORE SENDING REQUESTS !!!

dni

nsfw , sh , ed , -14 , anti agere , abdl / ddlg accounts

byf

I swear but not often , I talk about my interests a lot , im not very active

pronoun page / moodboards / rq rules / whitelist

boundaries

dni banner credit !!

dni banner 1 !! / dni banner 2 !! / consent banner!

divider credit

yellow hearts

continue reading

my tags (new!) ;

#ghostlyblog (normal posts and asks !)

#ghostlyboards (my moodboards / stimboards)

#ghostlymedia (any agere related media)

my fandoms ;

• arcane

• all thats left in the world

• call of duty

• criminal minds

• calico critters / sylvanian families

• doctor who

• descendants

• ever after high

• fnaf

• greys anatomy

• heartstopper

• harry potter

• marvel

• monster high

• my chemical romance

• overwatch

• royale high

• star wars

• tangled

• the umbrella academy

• the last of us

• the amazing digital circus

• twenty one pilots

• valorant

• young royals

• zombies (disney)

names / nicknames I like ;

•saint

• logan / lo

• theo / theodore

• casian / cas / cassy

• kit / kitty / kitkat

• johnny / j

• saint

• drac / dracula

• jax / jaxon

• bubba / bub

• prince

• love bug / bug

hobbies ;

• photography

• reading

• gaming

• writing

• colouring

• painting

[no-not-without-you-blog]

Recipe for Love- Chapter 2

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC (Joanna MacDonald)

Warnings: Language, Brief mentions of death.

Authors Note: We are finally getting to meet Steve and the gang! Hope you enjoy!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Recipe for Love Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A few weeks later, Jo nervously pulled up to the gate of the compound. After showing her ID at the gate and having to go through a body scan for FRIDAY to have her full biometrics and for access and monitoring, she finally made her way to the main building of the compound. Tony and Pepper were waiting for her at the door. 

“Hey Doc, I have this sudden urge to lay on a couch and talk about my feelings. Got any spare time?”

Jo shook her head with a smile. “Sorry Tony, no therapy sessions for you. You would have to pay me a lot more for that.” Pepper tried her best to hide her laugh.

“What are we paying you, by the way? Am I gonna go bankrupt from your feelings circles and speaking sticks?”

“Yes, Tony. That’s exactly what’s going to happen.” Jo said sarcastically. Pepper’s laugh finally breaking free as she shook her head.

“Ok Tony, that’s enough of that. You know that’s not why Jo is here.”

“Yeah, Yeah, yeah. I guess. Well, I have everyone gathering in the conference room. Might as well get the introductions done quickly and then Pepper and I can get out of here and get started on those babies, right sweetheart?” 

“Nice, Tony. Real Nice.” Pepper rolled her eyes and shook her head, but a small smile started to creep up. Jo thought that they were sweet together. Odd, yes, but sweet. They all walked into the conference room and Jo was taken aback by the people filling the room. These were the people she had seen on the news fighting robots, aliens, and world dominating organizations. She knew that they were just people, but for a moment, she let her mind be overwhelmed by their presence. However, she quickly composed herself, knowing that she can’t make connections with them if she was going to be constantly in awe of them.

“All right gang, listen up.” Tony announced to the group. “As you all know, Pepper and I are leaving the compound and so we have decided in our magnanimity to bring in someone to help out around here. This is Jo MacDonald.  She is here to facilitate group activities and also to cook for you all, among other things.” He paused for a beat, letting everyone process what he just said. They all looked a bit surprised at the new addition. Pepper stepped in at that moment.

“Jo, let me introduce you to the group. Here’s Natasha, Wanda, Vision, Bruce, Sam, Bucky, and Steve. Thor’s off world and Clint’s at home with his family. There are others, but these guys are the ones who live here full time.” Jo smiled at them all and they all nodded their heads when their names were said. 

“I hope you memorized all of that, because there’ll be a quiz at the end.” Tony joked but no one really paid attention to him. Jo thought that she probably could have aced that quiz if it was true. She had done her homework before arriving and knew the basics of each team member. 

She stood in front of them and spoke kindly. “Hello everyone. It’s an honor to meet you all and I hope we can get to know each other better as we go on. I know my position here may seem strange, so I just wanted to clarify a bit. I’m here in a social engineering and caretaking capacity. I’m here to cook and help plan group activities for the team. Pepper wanted to bring someone on to be a bit like a house mom.” She laughed at that thought. “But I’m not your mother, and I’m definitely not trying to be. I’m here to make sure you eat well and to hopefully help everyone to get along better as a team and feel more connected to each other. I’m not here to participate in missions and I won’t be a part of any Avenging conversations.” She looked around, making sure that they understood her fully. She wasn’t here to run the team, just the house. 

“I will make breakfast six days a week and cook dinner for the group around 4-5 times a week, sometimes more or less depending on the circumstances. I can’t force anyone to be there for meals, but I hope that you will. I’ll also be getting the group together for more non-”Avenging” activities both at the compound and out and about. If you have any concerns or questions, please feel free to come find me at any time, day or night.” She took a breath and sat back down.

“Any questions? No? Great.” Tony dismissed the meeting quickly. Many of the team members came up and introduced themselves to Jo further, stating that they were happy that she was here and they were definitely looking forward to some actual cooking. She felt as if the microwave and take out menus were used more around here than the actual kitchen.

After the introductions, Pepper showed Jo to her room. She was surprised by the size of it. It was more like a suite than a room. It had a small living area with a couch, television, and two large bookshelves. She was happy to see that she would have a place to put her books. When packing, she was worried that they would just have to live in boxes, but she couldn’t part with them. Reading was such a lifeline for her and she would hate to have to get rid of her favorites. The seating area led into a large bedroom, a king sized bed faced a wall of windows that looked out over the lake. The wall behind the bed had openings on both sides that led to a large closet area. Behind that was a large doorway that led to a beautiful bathroom. A large free standing tub sat on the back wall, centered with a large window overlooking the woods surrounding the compound.

She was flabbergasted by the size and opulence of the room. “Pepper, surely this can’t be my room. This is too much.”

“Oh, nonsense. To be honest, Tony built this suite for me, but we always just shared his. So this has sat empty for a long time. I think it will be just right for you. It will give you your own space to come back to after dealing with these idiots all day.” You both laughed at her comment. The whole compound is state of the art and that includes this room.” Turning to the room, Pepper said slightly louder, “Friday?” 

The AI of the house responded. “Yes, Ms. Potts?”

“Please hand over control of this room to Ms. MacDonald.” She turned back to you. “Friday can customize any and all aspects of the room for you. You can select the perfect light level, have her draw you a bath at your preferred temperature, set whatever security protocols you desire. I know the windows are quite open and out there, so she can customize your privacy settings as well as darkening and lightening them for sleeping and waking up.”

Jo let out a soft laugh of disbelief. “Wow, that-that’s a lot. I guess it will take me some time to get used to it all.”

“You’ll get the hang of it in no time. Friday is throughout the compound, so she can be quite helpful.” 

At this, Friday spoke up. “I look forward to working with you Ms. MacDonald. Anything I can do to make your transition here easier, please let me know.” 

Jo smiled at the kind words from the friendly Irish voice. “Well, to start, please call me Jo.” 

“Will do, Jo. Ms. Potts, Tony has asked me to let you and Jo know that he is planning a welcome dinner with the group this evening. He asked me to tell you that he is taking care of the dinner. Just to be downstairs in the dining room at 7 o’clock.”

Pepper responded, “Thank you Friday.  Well, I better let you unpack and get settled. I will see you this evening for dinner. And again, I just wanted to say welcome and that I am so glad you are here.” With that, she left Jo to unpack.

To say that Steve was taken aback by the sudden addition to their ranks was an understatement. Like Tony, after the fall of Shield, he was wary of adding others into the small circle of people he trusted. He followed Tony out of the conference room and stopped him in the hall. 

“Tony. What the hell was that all about? Who is this woman and why are we bringing in someone new? She’s not a fighter? Does she work tech? What’s the point of having her here?” 

Tony just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. Pepper pushed to have the position made and I got kicked out of the interview with her. When I came back in, Pepper had hired her and wouldn’t hear anything from me about it.”

Steve looked shocked as Tony said this. How could Tony just let Pepper hire someone to come live here without his approval? “What do we even know about her, Tony? Who knows why she’s actually here!” 

“Look, Steve, I understand your concerns, but she passed all the background checks with flying colors and even Friday couldn’t dig up anything to worry about. Plus, I trust Pepper to be pretty level headed when it comes to knowing if someone is up to no good. She sniffs out any bullshit I try to pull, that's for sure. But listen, look over her file. You’re gonna be in charge around here now. So, look over her file and if you find something that doesn’t add up, deal with it.” 

Steve nodded and headed to his room. He didn’t like looking into the teams files. He always thought that their pasts weren’t a good indicator of who they were now and who they could be. But he knew nothing about this woman and needed to feel like he had some understanding and control over the team. He may be in charge of the team and soon, over this facility, but Tony was dropping this person on his doorstep and then leaving him to deal with it. He needed to get caught up.

“Friday, please pull up the file of Jo MacDonald.” She processed for a moment before responding. 

“I have her file here, would you like me to give you the highlights?” 

“Sure, start with that.”

“Joanna Rose MacDonald, born February 8th, 1990 to Joseph Robert MacDonald and Anna May MacDonald née Stevens. She, as well as her brother James “Jamie” Edward MacDonald were raised by their father after her mother died when she was seven. Graduating high school at 16, she studied Psychology at the University of Notre Dame, gaining her Doctoral at 22. Quite an impressive feat. She interned and then worked for a private psychology practice for a few years before moving to a Non-Profit Organization where she has worked for the past 7 years. She-”

Steve cut her off. 

“Friday, she’s a psychologist?” He asked her, shocked.

“Yes. She seems to be well respected in the community. She graduated quite young and many saw her as the next rising star in the field. She has written many peer-reviewed studies dealing with the effects of trauma.”

He cut her off again. “That’s enough for now, Friday, thank you.”

“My pleasure, Captain Rogers.”

Steve was fuming at this point. Tony knew she was a shrink and let her come here. Was she here to analyze them? To write studies about them? Steve had been a lab rat in his day and so many of the team had suffered terrible psychological traumas. He didn’t want someone coming in here to exploit that for their own purposes. He wasn’t sure why Pepper had agreed to letting her come here, but he wasn’t about to let his team be used by someone like that. It was his job to look after them and that included threats from within.  

[junypr-camus]

“The cameras aren’t watching you. You’re watching yourself.”

If you’re into dystopian science fiction, a feisty yet fragile aro-ace genius, found family, or the likes of Hunger Games and Ready Player One, you might like this story about fighting a government that no longer needs to use overt propaganda — because it can manipulate minds into creating a destructive social order.

Genre: Science Fiction Tropes: dystopia, propoganda & mind control, memories, cyberpunk, the price of change Aesthetics: moodboards

You can get it here! And it's free with Kindle Unlimited :)

More info below!

Terry Silver doesn’t know she’s living a lie. Despite the feisty attitude that angers her university teachers, she’s unaware of the dissentious thoughts erased from her mind, or the half-truths fed to millions of Seranidians to maintain the paradise of the City. Even, of the fact that she may have taken a life. But when the mysterious Professor Camus Remin whisks her from the crosshairs of Seranid’s elite killing squad and into Slums, she finds stolen memories — including ones of her long-dead father — and a people trampled by innovation — who call her the Phoenix that will herald the rebirth of the nation. As Terry tries to foment an uprising, she faces more than her own mortality: resurfacing trauma, the deaths of loved ones, and the looming threat of all-out nuclear war. She’s forced to ask herself: what price would you pay for change?

CHARACTERS

Terry Silver: Barely having known her father, with a mother who doesn’t notice her, Terry grows up contrarian, her feet planted on the ground in Seranid City, where everyone’s heads are in the skies. Her rebelliousness when the task force is sent to eliminate her for something she can't remember. Terry’s first memory | Sketches | Terry’s mirror

Camus Remin: First her physics professor, Camus becomes Terry’s friend and confidant after he whisks her out of the City and into the Slums, away from the government’s prying eyes (or so they believe). It’s only later that Terry realizes why… Quote | Sketch

Marco Luiz: An old friend of Camus and a resident of the Slums, Marco knows the injustices of Seranid’s system firsthand. Both idealist and kind-hearted, he’s quick to sacrifice himself to help those in need.

Janette Thornell: Hardened by past failures, the steely leader of the Resistance often clashes with Terry. But despite her stony countenance, Janette loves those she protects. And she hides a secret that only her lover Emmy doesn’t know. Janette’s Secret

Emmy Wood: A City surgeon who defected to the Resistance, Emmy is more a scientist than a fighter. But when fate separates her, Camus, Marco and Terry from the rest of the Resistance, the four must learn to fight – and survive – together.

OC’s a ten but…

SETTINGS

North America, in the distant future…

Three countries share North America: materialistic Seranid on the West Coast, militaristic Leifen in the East, and modest Mirena, caught between the two superpowers. Each has their own way of surviving in this cruel new world, and each has their own flaws.

Seranid sees itself as bold and innovative, and yet the Slums, where the workers hide, share more with the farms of Mirena than they do with the skyscrapers of the City.

More Descriptions | Sketches | Leifen | Mirena | Ideals

THE SYSTEM OF SERANID

Seranid’s Government rules Seranid by dividing the country. Knowledge workers: doctors, engineers, teachers, and scientists are kept in the City, a bubble of utopia, while the rest are cast into the Slums, where poverty, disease, and corruption run rampant. Status symbols implanted at birth label Seranidians and feed them propaganda, altering their thoughts and memories to keep them in line. The task force eliminates any remaining rebels. The Council, the coalition of the six business heads of Seranid, is the guiding force and source of comfort in many Seranidian’s lives. From controlling the weather in the City to providing aid to those in need, they are the sympathetic heart of Seranid. And the driver behind the City’s endless consumerism. Propoganda

[writing-good-vibes]

you know what they say about dead men

ever wondered why corey has daddy issues? look no further. another instalment of the road trip, at last, just in time for the one year ends anniversary !! divider by @/firefly-graphics

WARNINGS for corey cunningham x michael myers relationship, age difference, smut, unsafe kink practices, alcohol consumption, mentions of daddy issues, and mild mentions of unhappy/unstable childhood, implied child abuse and dysfunctional parental relationships.

taglist: @slutforstabbings @ethanhoewke @voxmortuus (if anyone else wants to be tagged in corey related things, just let me know !!)

Wally Cunningham is dead; mangled in a motorcycle crash in 1999, leaving behind a wife and son. Corey had carried that with him since he was old enough to ask why he didn't have a daddy like the kids at school did.

Joan chose the details carefully, spinning a cautionary tale about how dangerous the world was, how his daddy wasn't smart enough to keep out of trouble, how it's so much better for Corey to stay at home, safe and sound, with her. To stay at home where she can look after him. And Corey believed her, for a while anyway. Why wouldn't he?

In a dirty dive bar in Florida, Corey is finishing his fourth beer of the night before ordering another one. Michael sits stoically beside him, his gaze focused impossibly on the mirror behind the bar from beneath the trucker hat pulled low over his eyes.

Beneath the sound of shouts and jeers and idle chatter, the AC unit rattles steadily, keeping only some of the balmy heat at bay. Corey sweats, curls sticking at his temples and an itch working it's way down his nape, but he he doesn't take his cord jacket off.

"Hey, Wally," someone shouts. It's not an uncommon name, especially for men of a certain age. There's probably a handful of Walters and Wallaces in this bar alone, right?

Still, Corey glances over his shoulder, taking a long swig from his new beer.

The man who shouted had just arrived, and in the time it took Corey to turn around, he's snaked his way through the throngs of patrons to a table in the corner. He claps an older man heartily on the shoulder as he sits down.

Corey's jaw drops, and he dribbles some of his beer down himself.

The older man -- and he does look old, these days -- is startlingly familiar. Corey would know him anywhere, he's seen him a thousand times over in his dreams. He still has a beard, though it has long since greyed. He's wearing a bandana tied over long, equally grey hair. A motorcycle jacket is slung over the back of his seat. Of course he has a motorcycle jacket.

Corey wipes the beer from his chin and tells himself to stop staring, but he can't help it. Corey doesn't believe in ghosts, besides the ones that live in his head, but there's no other explanation for what he's seeing. No explanation that he's got the guts to take.

Because Wally Cunningham is dead. He was mangled in a motorcycle accident in 1999, leaving behind his wife and son. Corey has carried that with him every day of his life. He dealt with the school yard teasing and pushed the grief of every empty father's day deep down. He managed just fine when he learnt to tie his own tie and how to shave on his own. He managed just fine when Momma married Ronald and they all played happy families for a while until the precarious honeymoon phase passed. Corey has managed just fine.

So why is Wally Cunningham sat in a dive bar in Florida, laughing and joking, like he hasn't been dead for more than 20 fucking years.

For a split second, something like elation passes through Corey. That's his dad. His dad who was an All-American man. Who fought in Vietnam. Who would of taught Corey how to ride a trike, and then a bike, and then maybe even a motorcycle when he got old enough. Who would have played catch with him in the yard and coached him to join the baseball team. Who would have made Momma loosen her grip. "You can't keep your eyes on him every second, Joan. Let the boy live," his dad would have said. His dad who had loved him and it was just a terrible, tragic accident that tore them apart.

But then those familiar, safe daydreams fade, like smoke on the breeze. Like they'd never existed at all. His dad is alive, and he hasn't seen Corey in over 20 fucking years.

Without thinking, Corey gets up, leaving Michael sat on his own at the bar. In his haste, desperate not to lose sight of the old man at the table in the corner, Corey forgets to put his beer down, and his knuckles clench white against the glass.

"Wally Cunningham?" his voice is pitifully hopefully. It feels like a betrayal.

Wally turns away from his friends, a congregation of similarly aged-looking bikers with bandanas and bruised knuckles, and looks up at Corey, scowling. "Who's asking, kid?"

Corey swallows thickly around the growing grief in his throat, "I'm Corey."

Wally raises an eyebrow. For a long, disgusting moment Corey can see that his name doesn't ring a bell. The dots aren't connecting.

Until they do. "Corey? God, haven't you grown." Wally looks him up and down, taking in the sight before him. Corey wasn't vain, especially not now, but he has to resist the urge to shrink under his father's narrowed eyes. His hair is a little shaggy since he hasn't got around to trimming it lately, his thrift-store jeans are forever the wrong size, and his tarnished silver belt buckle glints just barely under the smoke-hazy bar lights.

"Well, it's been 23 years." 23 years of mourning only to find that the coffin was empty all along.

Wally nods in muted agreement. "What are you doing here?"

Wally's reserved reaction feels like the single spark that starts a bonfire, drawing in oxygen while Corey struggles to breath. "I should be asking you that. Momma told me you were dead, she said that you died."

Wally has the guts to chuckle, "She did? That doesn't surprise me, she always was fucking nuts. Well, boy, I'm still kicking"

His friends laugh along, but otherwise stay out of it. When Corey thinks about this conversation later -- and he will be thinking about it later, turning it over and over obsessively until he does something stupid over it -- he'll wonder how many of them knew Wally had a son at all. If he ever mentioned the life he'd left behind in Illinois, or if he wiped the slate clean with each state line he crossed. Just like Corey did nowadays.

Corey shakes his head as he connects his own dots, "You're not dead. You're not -- you've been alive this whole time."

Wally tries to be warm, but it doesn't suit him, "Not the brightest bulb in the box, are we? I guess you must take after me, son."

Corey's deep scowl says otherwise; Wally can see Corey is very much Joan's boy. He always was. "You left us, me and Momma."

"Son, your mother told me to leave, so I did. That marriage was a mistake, it's a good job I left her when I did, or I don't know how it would have ended, but it'd wouldn't have been good, I can tell you that --"

"You left me!" Corey shouts, cringing when his voice breaks. "You didn't just walk out on Momma, you walked out on me, didn't you?" His fingers tighten even more around the beer bottle, just a little tighter and --

Suddenly, Corey feels a presence behind him. He knows it's Michael, knows his outrage must of have stirred him from his thoughts and led him over, eager -- if Michael could ever be described as eager -- to be close by in case Corey makes a scene.

Michael clamps a hand down on his shoulder, pulling him away from Wally by a couple of paces. The friends sat around his table shift uneasily in Michael's hulking, scarred presence, a fact Corey revels in as he leans back into Michael's touch. His fingers loosen on the beer bottle.

There's a tense moment of silence as the reality of this strange situation settles over them all. It reminds him of the tabloid shows Momma used to watch when he was little, the ones she shooed him out of the room for: Long lost son, meet absent father.

Finally, "This a friend of yours?" Wally gestures.

Friend. Corey's lip curls into a smirk, "He's my --"

What exactly is Michael? Boyfriend sounds too juvenile, and lover too tender. Daddy crosses his mind, as a sick little dig, or my old man. He doesn't think any of those would go down too well here, though. Partner is ambiguous, but too formal. Accomplice is fitting, very fitting, but he can't go around saying things like that in public. Cult leader is what it feels like sometimes, but a bit too grandiose for their current predicament.

"Yeah, this is Michael," Corey settles on. The pause he used to gather his thoughts was loud though, and something like doubt crosses Wally's face. But he was never fucking there, so he can go fuck himself if he thinks his opinion matters now. He can think what he likes, for all Corey cares -- and oh god, he cares, he cares so fucking much it makes him sick. Wally's probably right though, in one way or another.

"So, what are you doing in this neck of the woods? You left Illinois?" Wally tries again.

Illinois is so far behind them in the rear view mirror that it scares him sometimes, but Corey is headed West, and he isn't stopping -- for anything or anyone -- until he reaches the very end of the line. "We're just passing through," Corey shrugs.

They talk for a while, but Corey doesn't sit down at Wally's table. He doesn't accept a drink when someone goes for another round. He sneers instead of laughs when Wally's friends try to crack jokes. He stays stood in front of Michael, leaning just slightly against him when Michael takes his hand off his shoulder. Michael doesn't complain, doesn't move, just listens silently to the faux-casual conversation going on in front of him. Waiting.

Against his already-scarce better judgement, Corey does agree to stay in town for a few days and meet Wally again tomorrow. They have a lot of catching up to do.

Corey doesn't believe in ghosts, but still doesn't shake Wally's hand when he offers it, scared of what it might feel like. So, instead he smirks, a crooked gesture, and turns to leave, taking Michael with him.

The motel room is quiet and dim, the nicotine-stained bedside lamp casting a sickly yellow glow over the pair while the corners of the room stay shrouded in darkness. A safe and secret place to hide away.

Corey talks and talks, half to himself and half to Michael, wanting to purge every little thought in his head until there's nothing left.

"I don't fucking need him, I never needed him! I never needed him. I don't fucking -- oh fuck -- i got by fine, didn't I? That fucking piece of shit, never fucking needed him. I wish he really was dead, dead in the fucking ground. We should -- that's what we should do, I'm gonna -- please -- And who does he think he is? Talking to me like he didn't fucking walk out on me, on his baby. Can you imagine leaving a baby all alone? Leaving me with Momma. And he didn't even care -- he never fucking cared! -- didn't care that she was gonna swallow me whole. And he knew, he fucking knew, how bad M-Momma was and he s-s-still left me. He ne-ever loved me, did he? Because you wouldn't leave someone like that if you loved them. He never... he never... Why didn't he love me?"

Corey's talk turns into tearful babbles even as he keeps rocking his hips down against Michael's upward thrusts, fucking himself past the point of stupid. Rage and grief gnawing such a deep, deep pit in his stomach that he wants it filled immediately. Wants to fill it with the type of pain-pleasure that Michael delivers without even trying. Wants to choke on it, hot and heavy and ruinous.

But who was Corey kidding? The gaping black hole inside him wasn't new, it hadn’t been gouged out by tonight’s revelations. No, no it had been there for as long as he could remember, and it was Wally who had carved it out, taking it with him when he left and leaving Corey wanting.

"Doesn't matter, anyway. I don't care -- I don't -- I don't fucking need anyone. 'Cause I've got you, right? No one ever gave a shit about me, but I'm still here. I - I don't need them. Don't need anyone. I fucking saved myself. No, no, you saved me. And it's just me and you and we're gonna -- it's gonna be -- You'll never leave me, right? Please don't leave me, please don't -- I wanna be with you. I wanna... You wouldn't leave me. No, no, no, not like him, you're not like him -- you're more of a man than he'll ever be, and you're a fucking monster... Oh, god -- FUCK -- Oh, you can keep me forever and ever and ever and --"

Michael pushes him down onto his back. Corey chokes on a gasp as the angle changes and Michael sets a new, more ruthless pace. Ploughing into him -- too hard and too fast and too much -- as Corey's mouth stops working, his grief-stricken rambles melting into moans.

This happens sometimes, Michael losing patience when Corey runs his mouth, but usually Corey has enough sense to know when shut up. Corey's on the edge and he knows that Michael knows that, knows it when a rough, scarred hand closes around his throat, pressing dangerously on either side of his windpipe.

Corey sucks in a breath until he can't anymore.

The motel room is quiet and dark, once Corey reaches over to shut off the lamp.

He's still sniffling quietly, his sweaty skin sticking to Michael's as he arranges the older man's arms around his shoulders. Michael keeps them there limply, silently, as Corey wraps himself around him.

Abandonment feels so much worse than grief ever had. Wally wasn't dead, he just never wanted Corey. Wally wasn't dead, Corey just wasn't good enough.

Corey's fingers clench. There's a knife on the nightstand, and in his duffle, and one tossed onto the floor along with his clothes. His fingers relax. There's a snub-nose .38 revolver in the glove compartment of their truck.

"He'd deserve it, wouldn't he?" Corey mutters, "Just like she did..." He blinks up at Michael through wet lashes.

Michael doesn't say anything.

He agrees, Corey decides, smiling.

[ms-katonic-of-tamriel]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

SPOILERS BELOW: AoD, Wolf Queen, Prodigal Dragonborn, Unfated, And When The World Remembers

Age of the Dragon, even if it is a beast. Started out as a what if crossover, ended up being an epic adventure touching on colonialism, first contact, toxic organised religion, overcoming religious trauma, overcoming addiction, saving the world but at a cost, arriving in a new place and ending up overturning half their culture, how far are you willing to go to win, what salvation really looks like, redemption, freedom, and reuniting long-lost family. It gave me Cicero's Uncle and I love him very much. It gave Alistair his New Dog, and I love that very much too. XD

Wolf Queen Awakens - it just works. It just came together so easily, and I'm proud of it. The last scene still moves me to tears, it's like, yeah, Elisif, you did it. You saved the world. You won your throne. You avenged your husband. You got a new one. You're not a helpless figurehead any more and never will be again. And now you're Queen. You enjoy yourself, you earned this.

Prodigal Dragonborn - it is a fluffy romance between a lonely nerd who wasn't really expecting to find a partner, but was looking for an adventure and an amazing scientific discovery, and manages to come home with all three. I really liked writing Lucien. He's so sweet and lovable and definitely on the ace spectrum and probably autistic as well. Teasing out the backstory that Joseph Russell didn't put in and quite possibly didn't intend to be there was a lot of fun. "I'm the one using the library for its intended purpose and I'm the problem??" and "my amazing scientific discovery loves me back!" were the two most iconic lines, I think. Plus we also get Miraak with no memories looking for redemption and finding it in this scientist who will surely perish if not protected... and in the end, choosing love and forgiveness over wrath and retribution and realising his fate is not set in stone after all, and there doesn't have to be a divide between his real self and the part that loves Lucien. Also there's the cat. How can you not love Lucien's cat. That cat's practically a character in her own right. Lived in fear Joseph Russell would find out what I'd done with his boy and flip out when I started writing it, but by now I've largely realised I probably needn't have worried.

Unfated - crack turned serious. Silly Skyrim version of a silly DND webcomic, in which the Markarth Incident gets averted due to shenanigans but those shenanigans result in peace talks, an agreement, a wary truce between magic-phobic Stormcloaks fresh from a war that left them all traumatised and Reachfolk not sure how to treat the ones who were invading their country five minutes ago, and slowly the two cultures start merging as everyone involved starts to heal. And then the reaction comes, and consequences, and suddenly it all starts kicking off and then Teenage Cicero shows up. Soon followed by his now-Tranquil Uncle. It's got very intense, but I am enjoying picking this one up again. Also everyone's younger selves are proving a delight to write. Keirine newly First Matriarch and still unsure of herself. Madanach who never went to Cidhna Mine and has five young kids to look after. Farkas and Vilkas as teenagers. Uncle Cicero in his mid-forties. Custom follower Kaidan as a wee babby and his mum alive and I really love writing her too. Teeny tiny Leliana uprooted from Orlais and everything she's ever known. Delphine in her twenties and one Blade among many, serving alongside at least one who remembers what she was like before the war and will not put up with her crap. Elisif's parents! Tiny Vex of all people (people went nuts over Tiny Vex and she's only a bit character). MADANACH'S KIDS. Eola as a tiny baby who loves meat already and turned out to be the one to convince Ulfric to give in. And of course Ulfric Stormcloak, 29, war crimes averted, getting therapy, in a healthy relationship and healing. All the Stormcloaks, healing. Able to lay down their weapons, work with non-Nords and magic users at that, and live peacefully - mostly. It's an odd little universe but I love it.

And When the World Remembers - Dragon Age Inquisition, but the Herald of Andraste is stupidly OP and an ex-Dark Lord on the run, who falls face first out of Apocrypha and into his new cult and is absolutely delighted with his new Andrastian minions. And then he changes. Slowly he starts remembering how to be human again. Slowly he starts realising he actually likes these people. And then he meets this flamboyant necromancer from Tevinter who turns his life upside down before you can say 'future husband' and now there's two of them both trying to work through their issues and save the world and try to be good people while doing it. And then Miraak's past comes back to haunt him, and then Dragonborn Three arrives and he has not just a partner and an Inquisition... but siblings again. I fully intend to finish this one day, I swear it, but Unfated ran away with me.

Thank you so much for the ask! And now the tagging.

@rheilea @evil-is-relative @kookaburra1701 @expended-sleeper

And anyone else who has writing they want to tell their followers about. If you can't think of five, wax lyrical on what you do have.

[witchhatproductions]

Witch Hat News #1: Weird Stories from Space

This is an archived version of our microfiction newsletter! You can read along on our tumblr, or subscribe here.

Hi there! Do you remember signing up to some newsletter from someone you kinda know on twitter? That's me. I'm the newsletter, and I'm here to letter you some news.

For real, though, I have a lot to say about this newsletter. If you know me (I'm Samantha Calthrop, by the way, not a sentient email, hi) then you probably know that I make comics and TTRPGs, which are met with critical acclaim by my extensive audience of almost nobody. I spent my teens in fandom spaces and my early twenties making standalone games. 

In other words, I make things, and I put them online, and not a lot of people see them. C'est la vie.

In recent years, I've been drifting increasingly away from social media, and towards real-world creative spaces. I'm fortunate enough to have several social outlets for my art. Between my local comics group, my university, and my small group of mutuals in Irish journo twitter, I feel accomplished enough to be proud regardless of how many Instagram followers I have. (It's 151, much like the original Pokédex.) 

That's the problem with the Internet. Even in the coolest and most supportive rings of Twitter and Tumblr there is nothing to achieve but online fame, which has been famously awful for everyone who has ever obtained it. (I imagine social media to be divided into rings, much like the rings of hell in Dante's Inferno.) There are very few spaces online that feel personal and contained, because by nature the internet is large and completely impersonal. 

The consequence is that being an up-and-coming creator is like shouting into the void, except the void has a handful of your confused friends and relations in it, some of whom are giving you the thumbs up.

I was thinking about the lack of digital spaces for exploring any kind of fiction that isn't short stories or published novels, and how many cool things have been made by people I know, which nobody ever sees. I thought, man, I wish somebody would start a newsletter about it or something. Then I realised that I was somebody, and I already had a creative label which I'd been using to publish things already. Then I turned to Luke Sophia and said, "Hey, we're starting a newsletter", and wrote this before I could be stopped.  

So I guess this newsletter seeks to fill that missing niche; a small, personal space that celebrates obscure creative projects. We're starting out primarily with creators that we know already - friends, past collaborators, and things we're already fans of. That means right now, it's mainly webcomics, podcasts, TTRPGS, and other types of online storytelling.

To that end, here's your bimonthly dose of local talent. By coincidence, all these stories are set in space, and all of them have a wonderfully weird take on the sci-fi genre. Check it out:

Neokosmos is about the horror of being raised by people you don't understand. This series of illustrated sci-fi stories follow the last living humans, who are being raised in captivity many years after the destruction of the Earth. Neokosmos is a deeply beautiful, deeply weird, and deeply visceral story about love, cruelty, and family between completely different alien species. The first book made me realise I like speculative sci-fi. The second book made me sit on my bed, put my head in my hands, and think about how I spent my early twenties. I can't recommend it enough. Neokosmos is in open beta right now, and is available to read for free online.

Chain of Being is a delightfully strange eldritch-horror-ish audio drama by Cai Gwilym Pritchard. It's set in a mystic sci-fi universe with deep folkloric roots, and it's both written and performed unlike any other podcast I've come across. I recommend listening with headphones just for the editing. Chain of Being is also casting voice actors for Season 2 right now - more info here. They're paid roles, and actors with non-standard podcast accents are encouraged to apply.

Fetch Quest by @toonlynnk is a silly fantasy adventure in a spaceship universe. Unambitious Hugh the human is happy to settle for an NPC career and a lifetime of mediocrity, but is instead dragged into the life of an adventurer-for-hire. A webcomic set in a video game universe, and is promising to be the kind of PG comedy adventure that ends up wrenching your guts out, in the style of Owl House and Amphibia. 

Your project here. Do you make art of any kind - visual, written, performed? Are you starting a project or recruiting co-creators? We want to hear from you! Email us at contact@witchhatproductions.com. A proper submission procedure will be created if needed, but for now, it's open season - show us anything. Fire away.

That's it for now. All going well, I'll see you in a few weeks!

[waythroughtheice]

8 and 22~

Alright!

8. How many WIP do you currently have?

Uh-oh. This'll be a list since I have a stack of WIP. I divide this into categories of "will eventually publish" and "just for me".

In the "will eventually publish", I have:

All is Quiet Chp. 17

Synthesis Reaction Chp. 6

But there is a friend (Zero's PoV of the century X was away)

The crossover stuff with Legends Reborn

Experience is the Cain of the Blind (the next part of the Robot Masters went back in time saga)

Those One Piece one shots I actually have finished but wouldn't mind publishing. Maybe.

"In the bleak midwinter", a Legend of Zelda au. Only one chapter so far, though, and I actually want to finish it before publishing it.

In the "Just for me" category we have:

A lot of Pokemon fics, like a self-insert that I have like three chapters on (I'm not publishing this because I don't think I'll ever finish it)

Stuff based on Straight Elf's Traveler, some I do publish for that discord server, others I don't. The stuff I won't publish comprises of multiple one shots based off of an au of that awesome fic. Also a crossover with One Piece, because why not.

That one Demon Slayer and MHA crossover. Some one shots are finished, others are not. The finished ones I won't publish because, again, I'll never actually finish the rest of them and I consider it unfair to do something and not commit to the end.

An AU of Linked Universe that's mixed with manwha and fire emblem sensibilities; all the Links are brothers and princes. Most are only half-brothers because their bio dad (the king) is awful. Ganondorf takes over when Time is like nine years old; this causes....issues. Ganondorf and Time have an interesting dynamic in this au since Ganondorf holds all the power, and quite a few hostages since Time's little brothers are very young. Eventually he does get kicked out when Time is 16, and more things ensue from there.

A Dark End of Hyrule, wherein Spirit (who didn't travel with the Chain) travels to a Dark Hyrule and uhhhh it doesn't go well.

A few One Piece one shots wherein Law travels back in time to Roger's time thanks to Straw Hat Shenanigans, changes somethings. Roger--who got healed by Law--ends up adopting all the D. kids, it's hilarious.

The Trenchcoat AU, wherein it's a lot of AU's masquerading as one big AU. It's a One Piece AU, wherein Garp dies when Ace and Luffy are young, so Sengoku takes 'em in. The Five Elders interfere, though, and it ends up with Luffy in a wheelchair thanks to an "illness" that only the Navy has the cure to. Ace works as a Vice Admiral to get the medicine for Luffy. There are a lot of complicated feelings with the Sengoku-Ace relationship. Luffy is Luffy and has the entirety of Marineford wrapped around his rubbery fingers.

A self-insert to One Piece, but like Roger's time. Rouge gets a whole pirate crew, and builds a city in the New World.

Iiiii think that's it?

22. Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

Uhhhhh.....this is again split into the two categories. For the publishing side of things (which is the only side I'll share)...Experience is the Cain of the Blind technically doesn't have anything written in it yet, so I think it counts.

Basically, the premise--set up from the first fic--is that Duo (the robot who sent the Robot Masters back in time) told Blues that he'd send all his family back in time, right?

And he did! It's just that what Blues didn't consider at the time--since he didn't know about X is that.....

All means all.

Cue X waking up in the pod by Dr. Cain 100 years later, completely disoriented, and after looking around at this new, strange time proceeds to go what.

(The Robot Masters didn't find the paper will, oops. Well, they will eventually but at that point Dr. Cain's already absconded with X.)

Zero and Axl are eventually found through shenanigans, and Dr. Cain is here for the ride. The Robot Masters do eventually catch up, which is even more shenanigans.

Did I mention that it's from Dr. Cain's PoV? Yeah, this entire thing will be from Dr. Cain's PoV.

Thanks for the asks!

[bracketsoffear]

One last one of these

Just for my own satisfaction as a Whovian, all of the Doctor Who characters that were submitted for the Fears (with addenda for ones I wish I'd thought of). Congratulations to Doctor Who for having the most unique character-to-entity matchups at 63, even without my last-minute additions!

Buried - Gatherer Hade from The Sun Makers (add.: The Pirate Captain from The Pirate Planet, for squishing down planets real small to fuel his empire, themes of literal pressure and financial burden.)

Corruption: Sisters of Plenitude from New Earth (add.: Charles Rigby from the novel The Eater of Wasps)

Dark: Vashta Nerada, Weeping Angels (add.: the creature from Listen, Ravus Oldeman from the novel Fear of the Dark)

Desolation: Ace McShane, Crispy!Master, Dhwan!Master, Weeping Angels (add.: the sun from 42, Pyroviles from Fires of Pompeii)

End: Clara Oswald, the Doctor (all incarnations, but I would've picked 11), the Foretold, Jack Harkness, the Kotturuh, Rory Williams, the Thijarians (add.: Weeping Angels, Ashildr/Me from The Girl Who Died/The Woman Who Lived, The Shroud from the novel The Shroud of Sorrow (makes you see the ghosts of the departed and mourned))

Extinction: Cybermen, Davros, the Macra, the Master (all incarnations, I would've picked Simm or Ainley), War Doctor (add.: Mavic Chen from The Daleks' Master Plan, BOSS from The Green Death, the Dregs from Orphan 55)

Eye: Donna Noble (add.: the Wire from The Idiot's Lantern, the warden from the novel Seeing I)

Flesh: The Absorbalof, the Adipose, Lady Cassandra, Simm!Master, the Boneless from Flatline, the Gangers (add.: Shockeye, the Androgum, and Androgum!Second Doctor all from The Two Doctors, Clockwork Robots from The Girl in the Fireplace and Deep Breath)

Hunt: Cheetah People, the Family of Blood (add.: Haemovores from the Curse of Fenric, the Judoon, probably like a couple dozen other aliens who like to hunt stuff)

Lonely: The Silence, Thirteenth Doctor, Weeping Angels (add.: Cybermen, the Solitract from It Takes You Away)

Slaughter: Beep the Meep, the Midnight Entity from Midnight, Sontarans, the War Lord from the War Games (add.: All of the other aliens from the War Games (kidnapping soldiers from throughout human history and forcing them to fight in an endless war), Ragman from the novel Rags (inspires musical violence and murder along the lines of class war))

Spiral: The Boneless from Flatline, Castrovalva, Clara Oswald, Edward Grove, the God Complex, Iris Wildthyme, the Land of Fiction, the Midnight Entity (add.: The Dream Lord from Amy's Choice, Dream Crabs from Last Christmas, The Celestial Toymaker (but only assuming Divided Loyalties is canon and he's basically the Distortion with one of the Doctor's schoolmates as Michael), The Wild Hunt from the novel Unnatural History)

Stranger: Autons, Cassandra, Clara Oswald, C'rizz, Eighth Doctor, Fitz Kreiner, Gangers, Izzy Sinclair, Josie Day, Kamelion, the Master, Plastic Mickey, Rory the Roman, Samantha Jones, Silence, the Slitheen, Tiffany Korta (add.: the Chameleons from The Faceless Ones, Frobisher, Zygons, the Robots from Robots of Death)

Vast: Bill Potts & Heather (add.: astonishingly enough, none that I can think of)

Web: Seventh Doctor (add.: WOTAN from the War Machines, the Great One of the Eight Legs from Planet of the Spiders, the suits from Oxygen, the Selyoids from the novel Dying in the Sun, the Players from the novels Players and World Game, Khameirian from the novel Option Lock)

[open-hearth-rpg]

Open Hearth Video Roundup - March 1, 2024

Welcome to the weekly Open Hearth Gaming video roundup!

These recorded sessions represent only a portion of the games we play every week, and anyone is welcome to join the fun! If you'd like to play in games like these, join our Playabl community and click on the "Calendar" tab to sign up for upcoming games. To browse our entire library of session videos, please visit our YouTube Playlists page.

Discussions, Panels, and Seminars

An Introduction to Designing with Cortex Prime Anders

Open Hearth Gaming Calendar

The Hunted Madelancholy runs for Blake Ryan, Donogh, Sabine V., and Thomas Manuel A fossil hunt leads to exploring cave depths, leading to sinister finds...elsewhere...

The Hunted Lowell Francis runs for David S., Dom, Madelancholy, and Marc Majcher Our group heads to an East Coast island to look into local legends, and return one member to a place she'd escaped from years before. Dropped off by the ferry, they find no place to stay and a small community seemingly abandoned. Then they find the first body...

The Mecha Hack: Q’ku Riposte (Session 5) Anya Reyes runs for Lowell Francis, Marc Majcher, Matthew Arcilla, and Sherri The pilots head back into the jungle to look for the teens that went missing hoping against hope that they made trough the night. Looking for them they find themselves in a Kaiju nest and the colorful fauna that dwells there.

The Mecha Hack: Q’ku Riposte (Session 6) Anya Reyes runs for Lowell Francis, Marc Majcher, Matthew Arcilla, and Sherri The team waits at Node’s farm for the group that Madonna has sent after them. Here waiting for the battle they share stories and dig deeper and deeper into the mysteries of Aurelia. By the early morning they are in combat and meet one of Madonna’s Aces.

Pressure (Session 1) Lowell Francis runs for Anders, Donogh, Puckett, and Rob Abrazado The first half of a two part series of Pressure, a new industrial sci-fi TTRPG from Osprey. We set up characters and drop the team into the thick of it. Tasked with following up on a distress signal from a bankrupt corporation's base, the team find themselves at odds about completing the assignment or getting the eff out of there.

Pressure (Session 2 of 2) Lowell Francis runs for Anders, Donogh, and Rob Abrazado The second half of a two part series of Pressure, a new industrial sci-fi TTRPG from Osprey. Our team heads to get material for their engine, but encounter a distress call from the station. But on arrival they find things not as they expect.

Alien Dark: Alfa & Omega (Session 1) Alun R. runs for Joshua Fox, Nate Y, Rod Santos, and Will H The crew of the USCSS Alfalfa (a military surplus UPP cargo hauler sold into commercial United American use) and their passenger are heading to a Weyland-Yutani 'shake'n'bake' colony in the outer rim territories. Aboard are Pete Kennedy (the Company Rep looking for ways to build even better worlds), and newbie Pilot Linh Kahali is looking forward to the excitement the frontier is said to offer. There's also Scientist Karl Jorgensen, facing a health condition he can't afford to treat, who has taken an unskilled job to gain financial security for his family when he's gone. Finally, AWOL Colonial Marine Gart Weathers has been blackmailed by the Alfa's Captain to meet her need for an Engineer. When they wake from hypersleep the Alfa is NOT where it is supposed to be and a proximity collision alarm reveals a huge potential salvage opportunity literally rolling towards the Alfa. They discover that MU-TH-UR has become 1VAN and that they have been classified as 'brothers and sisters of the proletariat'. There's nifty flying, a need for EVA, and a UPP airlock that works! Then...1VAN powers up a reactor; life-support begins to kick in; and there are bodies...lots and lots of bodies...

Alien Dark: Alfa & Omega (Session 2) Alun R. runs for Joshua Fox, Nate Y, Rod Santos, and Will H The Alfa's crew divides up to reach Engineering and the Bridge in the hope of re-starting the Omega's FTL drive and getting her back to the most valuable salvage payment they can imagine...despite the bodies... There's convicts revived as the their cryopods sense life support re-starting; cavernous engineering spaces with sinister shadows; and a valuable looking briefcase. Then convicts reap revenge, more chests explode, and there's the ultimate sacrifice to help a decent man escape; before a passenger with a gun seems to have other motives and thrusters malfunction...

Trail of Cthulhu: Fearful Symmetries: Arc Two (Session 3) Lowell Francis runs for Alun R., Paul Rivers, Sherri, and Will H The circle starts pulling the threads of their investigation more tightly-- encountering persons both helpful and malign. An attempted ritual fails and the group decides that they must enter into the lion's den-- only to discover that the horrors are closer at hand than they thought.

Godbound: Sundered Cycles (Session 29) Lowell Francis runs for Dan Brown, Ethan Harvey, Patrick Knowles, Sherri, and Tyler Lominack Meeting a croc, wandering in dreams, a legal threat, dragon building, consultations, gifts, and more-- and then planning begins for the pantheon to begin their walk into the mythic realm.

AKA: The Transponder (Session 1 of 2) Donogh runs for Anders, Jonathan, and Sabine V. Our agent Carter tracks down a shady arms dealer, but their Company handler James struggles by proxy versus their Agency boss Robert to prevent Air Force One’s transponder key from getting into the wrong hands. Meanwhile the conspirator JC plays both sides...

Star Wars Saturday

Fellowship (Session 3) Rich Rogers runs for Cody Eastlick, Greg G., and Steven Watkins The fellowship find out the Imperial plot on Vuarlock and disrupt a parade.

Stars in the Dark: Stars in the Dark II (Session 1) Anders runs for Marc Majcher, Mark (they/them), Rich Rogers, and Steven Watkins Somehow, the Game Returned - We're back! Still on 1313 on Coruscant, but now the New Republic has taken over, and instead of a gang of violent street criminals our crew is a gang of (violent?) deniable assets for the new regime, specifically the Office of Trade and Industry. The game is still Blades in the Dark, though now more heavily modded with rewritten character and crew playbooks and some rules tweaks. This episode has character and crew introductions for KZ the Jockey and his one true love the LAVr QH-7 Chariot, Rook the Mandalorian Relic, L3T-2455 "Elliot" the liberated assassin droid Salvaged, and Winger the Spider, who just happens to show up when important stuff goes down, don't worry about it, as well as some legwork before their first job.

Off-Calendar Highlights

The Between: Stars and Suns, Season Two (Session 1) Madelancholy runs for Jack, Mike, Sarah W., and Steph "New Hunting Grounds" - Season Two is finally here! A somehow younger Legacy, Sir Atticus finds himself working for Hargrave House, alongside Explorer Dame Georgie Benbrook-Carter, the Unseen Ernest Marit-Savage, and the Changeling Finn Quickely, as the dark work continues and a new Mastermind comes in to play...

The Between: Stars and Suns, Season Two (Session 2) Madelancholy runs for Jack, Mike, and Steph "Appearances" - The investigation continues at a society salon and the fashionable Savile Row. Sir Atticus and Dame Georgie realize there are darker influences at play, and Finn gets a bespoke suit and an evening meeting. Then, a new day dawns bringing a new Threat to Hargrave House.

The Between: Stars and Suns, Season Two (Session 3) Madelancholy runs for Jack, Mike, and Sarah W. "Masquerade" - Finn snoops in Madame Beaumont's shop, Sir Atticus discovers strange things in an apothecary, and Ernest gossips with a textile merchant. In the evening, the Midsummer Masquerade is a place of meetings, bargains, and ritual...and Hargrave House loses a hunter.

The Between: Stars and Suns, Season Two (Session 4) Madelancholy runs for Jack, Mike, and Steph "New Hunter, Chance Meetings" - Investigations continue into the Figgs' case, as Dame Georgie has an encounter at their home above the shop and Sir Atticus gains a raggedy acquaintance. A new hunter joins Hargrave House, and she takes some Time to look into a strange anomaly.

[rockislandadultreads]

National Dog Month: Nonfiction Recommendations

Dogs on the Trail by Blair Braverman

When Blair Braverman started posting pictures of her dog team on Twitter, she had no idea the response she would get. Being a musher, after all, isn't just about racing - raising dogs from puppyhood to retirement (and beyond) is a full-time job. She and her husband, musher Quince Mountain, wanted to share stories about life with their dog team. And not just the big stuff, like expeditions and wild animal encounters, but also the everyday things: the challenge of storing a thousand pounds of raw meat, scouting new trails with the dogs, the decisions that go into putting a team together, how she trains puppies to be brave. These were goofy stories, scary stories, heartfelt stories, stories that clearly connected with people and kept going viral.

Inspired by those connections, Dogs on the Trail is a chronicle of a year in the life of their dog team. Beginning in the fall as the weather starts to cool, training on both dry land and in the snow, then camping and racing. Spring brings mud - lousy for sledding, but the dogs love it. And summer is the season of puppies. The book ends on a beginning, in anticipation of the adventurous lives that the new pups have in store.

Forever Home by Ron Danta & Danny Robertshaw

Danny & Ron's Dog Rescue is an organization like no other. Because an abused or neglected dog can only recover and learn to trust again when it is in a loving home, Danny and Ron decided to open their doors. Danny and Ron treat each neglected, abused, and misunderstood animal like a member of the family; the dogs eat organic food from their own bowls and are even allowed to sleep in the bed.

In this heartwarming book, Danny and Ron chronicle their journey helping more than 13,000 dogs in need, telling the stories of many furry friends that have come into their lives and of their own "rescue" as they came out together late in life. At any given time, there are upwards of 70 dogs lounging, frolicking, recovering, and cuddling under their own roof. For many of these wonderful canines, their house saved them from death. For Danny and Ron, saving and protecting innocent and defenseless canines and finding them forever homes is their passion and life mission.

Forever Home is their story - a message of acceptance, kindness, and, of course, love. It is a reminder that hope and joy can arise from the darkest circumstances, and that we all can make the world a better place for ourselves and our animal friends - it starts at home, with patience, empathy, and an open heart.

The Little Book of Dog Care by Ace Tilton Ratcliff

In the Little Book of Dog Care, life-long dog lover and deathcare veterinary practice owner Ace Tilton Ratcliff delivers a must-have primer for every dog parent. What should you do when your dog is scared during a thunderstorm? How can you make clipping their nails less miserable? When do they like to eat? What can’t you feed them? Endless questions, expert-certified answers.

Thoughtfully divided into chapters that focus on a specific aspect of care, from sleeping to grooming and beyond, these tips and tricks are applicable to any breed of dog. By the last page, every dog owner will better understand what their dog might be feeling - and how to best assist, using your enviable opposable thumbs.

Wonderdog by Jules Howard

Almost everywhere there are humans on planet Earth, there are dogs. But what do dogs know and understand of the world? Do their emotions feel like our own? Do they love like we do? What do they think of us?

Since our alliance first began on the hunt and on the farm, our relationship with dogs has evolved considerably. And with domestic dog population rising twenty per cent in the last decade alone, it is a bond that will continue to evolve. In order to gauge where our relationship with dogs goes from here, author and zoologist Jules Howard takes a look at the historical paths we have trod together, and at the many scientists before him who turned their analytic eye on their own four-legged companions.

With the help of vets, ethologists, neurologists, historians and, naturally, his own dogs, Wonderdog reveals the study of dogs to be key in the advancement of compassion in scientific research, and crucial to making life on Earth better for all species.

[lokidokeyartichoki]

Top five fandoms and foods???

ooooh like the experience of being in the fandoms??

Top 5 Fandoms For Experiences:

NBC Hannibal. Literally you can not top being part of the Hannibal fandom. The show has been over for like 7 years and we’re still out here making shit like it’s gonna come back. Also because the subject matter is so dark there’s a rampant hysterical crack part of the fandom to balance it out. Being a fannibal is an experience i have not yet found matched.

uhh actually that’s the only fandom i can recommend or even say i enjoy being in tbh. I dabble around but like the Fannibal community is the only one i’m regularly engaging and enjoying.

But I can say the top 5 fandoms I’ve been in during specific times!

Supernatural during the 2020 election and technically season 15. That. That was performance art and nothing could match that. I was actively part of the SPN fandom from like 2012-2014 I think but I ended up ditching the show and just kind of kept up with it via tumblr and what was on my dash. Season 8 was an experience as it aired but season 15? The pandemic? The election? that was something else.

The 2012-2015 Avengers Fandom. This was before we found out we were all found family baited. There is something so whole and wonderful about what we created then. Everything from Hawkeye lives in the vents to an entire universe made just for Darcy because she’s that cool. That was like the height of things and it was great.

Star Wars when The Force Awakens came out. This was it for me. This was where my Star Wars nonsense started. Poe Dameron sucked me in, and now I can read and write in Aurebesh. I would say also Star Wars during the Mandalorian seasons. The amount of all of us wanted this dad to get some sleep is too much. There’s something to be said for how dividing the experience is with Star Wars because there are some serious arguments that make no sense to me, so sometimes it’s not fun. But most of the time it’s a lot of fun just thinking about that shit in space.

Good Omens when it first came out was a breathe of fresh air. It still is, but the fandom was perhaps one of the most interesting and diverse experiences I’ve ever had. I’ve never seen more positive amounts of ace and nonbinary rep in my life, and there is something so personal about that experience for me. There’s of course the fact that it was a long standing fandom to begin with but the show coming out really breathed a lot of life into it and the amount of art! the stories! the fact that these two genderless beings are in love with each other despite everything! top tier shit.

Pokémon. The world of pokémon is such an interesting experience and universe to explore and games like Arceus have really opened that up. Every time a new game releases I know tumblr will be ablaze with memes and stories and lore. There’s something so homey about it because I was in first grade when pokémon made it big in the states. This is a life long thing for me and the extrapolations people have made on the universe beyond what being a trainer means are so fucking cool.

Top 5 foods!

Cheeseburger with waffle fries

trail mix

cottage cheese pancakes

steak burrito from the mexican place near me

pizza bread (family recipe)

[tseneipgam]

"All this new stuff I saw in the city had a price on it, from the newspapers to the meat to the shoes; everything had a price. It wasn't like fruit on the trees in the village that we used to go and get of an evening, or the fish that we caught in the river. They weren't the clothes that our mothers gave us, which they made themselves or that came from who knew where pants or shoes that we put on without even knowing what colour they were because we didn't give a fuck. There was a huge difference between the upbringing we'd had up to now in the village with our families, our peasant environment, and this city environment."

"All these differences in pay function for the boss as a constant form of blackmail of the worker: if you want a grade, if you want to get ahead, you have to be good, not stir things up, not go on strike. And it's useful for dividing workers during struggles, because then everyone makes different claims ac- cording to their grading and category, and so they fight di- vided. And the boss can always find a helpful union official to sign off on the various increases and percentages for the different grades and categories."

"Then there's the matter of working hours. Eight hours c work, if not nine or ten, that destroy the worker completel, So not much energy is left for him to communicate with other workers and organise politically. Why do the bosses want to keep working hours so long? First of all, to keep political control outside the factory as well."

"I'd had all kinds of work in my life. Construction worker, porter, dishwasher in a restaurant, I'd been a labourer and a stu- dent, which is also a job. I'd worked at Alemagna, at Magneti Marelli, at Ideal Standard. And now I'd been at Fiat, at this Fiat that was a myth, because of all the money that they said you made there. And I had really understood something. That with work you could only live, and live poorly, as a worker, as someone who is exploited. The free time in your day is taken away, and all of your energy. You eat poorly. You are forced to get up at an impossible hour, depending on which section you're in or what work you do. I understood that work is exploitation and nothing more."

"Whatever you want to do, if you want to buy a car or a suit, you have to work extra, you have to do overtime. You can't have a coffee or go to the movies. In a system, a world where the scope is only to work and produce goods. Anything you want to get from this system you have to put back. But really, physically, from yourself. I'd understood this. So the only way to get everything, to satisfy your needs and desires without destroying yourself, was to destroy this system of work for the bosses as it functioned. And above all to destroy it here at Fiat, in this huge factory, with so many workers. This is capi- tal's weak link, because if Fiat stops, everything else goes into crisis, everything blows up."

"And I finally had the satisfaction of discovering that the things I had thought for years, the whole time I'd worked, the things that I believed only I thought, everyone thought, and that we were really all the same. What difference was there be- tween me and another worker? What difference could there be? Maybe he was heavier, taller or shorter, wore a different coloured suit, or I don't know what. But the thing that wasn't different was our will, our logic, our discovery that work is the only enemy, the only sickness. It was the hate that we all felt for work and the bosses who made us do it. That's why we were all so pissed off, that's why when we weren't on strike we were all on sick leave, to escape that pris- on where they took away our freedom and our strength, day after day. I finally saw that what I had thought on my own for a long time was what everyone thought and said. And I saw hat my own struggle against work was a struggle we could all have together and win."

"Sometimes you don't understand each other and you don't agree because one person is used to thinking one way and someone else in a different way. One person like a Christian, another like a lumpenproletarian, another like a bourgeois. But in the end, in the fact of having been in a struggle togeth- er, we were able to speak the same language, to find that we all had the same needs. And these needs made us all equal in the struggle, because we all had to struggle for the same things."

"Capitalism is a rotten and broken system. No one can stand it any more. The young reject it, even the young bourgeois students who we see here among us. And all the workers know on how much suffering and how much injustice it has fattened itself. Keep at it, stick to the struggle, comrades, don't be fooled by the bosses, don't let yourselves be fooled by the union."

"So now we say it's time to end it, because they don't know what to do with all this enormous wealth that we produce in the world other than waste it and destroy it. They waste it making thousands of atomic bombs or going to the moon. They destroy fruit, peaches and pears by the ton, because there's too much and it isn't worth anything. Because for them everything must have a price, it's the only thing they care about, products without value can't exist as far as they're concerned. It can't just be for people who don't have food, according to them. But with all the wealth that exists people don't need to die of hunger any more, they don't have to work any more. So we'll take the wealth, we'll take everything. Are we all going mad? The bosses who make us work like dogs destroy the wealth we've produced. But it's time to be done with these people. It's time for us to fuck these pigs off once and for all, to get rid of them all and free ourselves for ever. Listen, State and bosses, it's war, it's a struggle to the end. Forward, comrades, forward like at Battipaglia, let's burn everything here, let's sweep this lowlife away, let's sweep this republic away."

"You could hear a hollow noise, continuous, the drumbeat of stones rhythmically striking the electricity pylons. They made this sound, hollow, striking, continuous. The police couldn't surround and search the whole area, full of building sites, workshops, public housing, fields. People kept attacking, the whole population was fighting. Groups reorganised themselves, attacked at one point, scattered, came back to attack somewhere else. But now the thing that moved them more than rage was joy. The joy of finally being strong. Of discovering that your needs, your struggle, were everyone's needs, everyone's struggle. They were feeling their strength, feeling that there was a popular explosion all over the city. They were really feeling this unity, this force. So every rock that was hurled at the po- lice was hurled with joy, not rage. Because in a word we were all strong."

Afterword (2013):

"

More and more the automation of production, and also the possibility in general of trusting almost every type of work and activity to machines and computers, requires a laughably small quantity of human labour power. Therefore why shouldn't everyone profit from the wealth produced by machines and from the time freed from labour? Today, absurdly, work that is no longer necessary continues to be imposed because only through this is it possible to conceive of the distribution of money, allowing the continuation of the cycle of production and consumption and the accumulation of capital. But it is already a cycle that is slowing; overproduction and the collapse of consumption due to the spread of unemployment and poverty are driving an irreversible crisis, which capital- ism frantically tries to save itself from with criminal games of financial speculation. The prospect of the destruction of whole generations, of whole countries, of the planet itself because of the senseless exploitation of its resources--this is the spectacle in which we are assisting today, the spectacle of a perverse voracity to concentrate immense wealth in the hands of just a few and to leave in its wake poverty and the wreckage of a world that could be rich and happy. But a new era is waiting for humanity, when it will be freed from the blackmail and the suffering of a forced labour that is already unnecessary and the enslavement to money, which prevent the free conduct of activity according to the aptitudes and desires of each and steal and degrade from the rhythm of life, at the same time that there is the real possibility of widespread and general wellbeing. This was the meaning, and could again be the meaning today and in the future, of that old rallying cry: Vogliamo tutto!"