#for any tablet experts
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chrome-barkz-aac · 5 months ago
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i made this instagram post !!! there isn't as big of a community of AAC users on instagram so I thought I would share this on my instagram (@cytochromesea).
EDIT: i got an ask that states that not everyone knows what AAC is which is an oversight on my part, it stands for alternative and augmentative communication!
Image ID:
A light blue background with a rainbow and a cloud and some stars. There is a blue border collie with wings holding an aac tablet that says I love you! Text reads: AAC etiquette. Do’s, Don’ts, and other stuff. By cytochrome sea.
The same background appears in every following slide. Text reads:
AAC is my voice! It is not a toy or accessory
Don’t touch my AAC without my permission
Don’t take my AAC away from me, for any reason (joke, punishment, etc)
Don’t press buttons randomly or flip through my communication cards without permission
How would you like it if I randomly poked you on the mouth and throat (or on your hands if you sign)? It would be unpleasant, so don’t do that to me
Some AAC users can speak sometimes. It is not your business why someone can or cannot talk
Don’t ask questions about why an AAC user cannot speak. 
Do let us communicate however is best for us in that moment
Don’t ask us if or when we will be able to speak verbally. It’s not your business 
Do not value verbal speech more highly than AAC. Any communication is good communication
Some of us never talk, either, and that’s ok! Those of us who can talk sometimes are not better than those of us who can’t. None of us owe you an explanation for our use of AAC.
Don’t look at my screen until I show you. It feels really invasive!
It feels like when someone is looking at your phone screen over your shoulder, so please don’t do this
This applies to low tech AAC as well, don’t look at someone’s cards or letter board until they show you
You have the dignity of forming your thoughts in your head before you say them, whereas my thoughts are all on display. Please afford me the same dignity that you get automatically.
Don’t shame someone for not being able to speak verbally. It makes us feel horrible
We are real people with thoughts and feelings. Please treat us with kindness. 
We are trying our best
Don’t shame someone if their device mispronounces a word. It’s quite literally out of our control.
Other Don’ts. Don’t
Don't Treat an AAC user as childish or stupid for not being able to speak. Our ability to speak does not define our worth
Don't Show frustration at the way someone communicates
Don't Make comments about how fast or slow we communicate
Also don’t…
don't Act surprised when we swear or talk about adult topics like sex, drugs, or violence. We are not pure uwu precious smol beans, we are normal fucking people
don't Assume what is “wrong” with us. There are about a hundred reasons for someone to use AAC and you probably aren’t the expert in any of them.
“OK, so what CAN i do?” im glad you asked! When interacting with an AAC user, DO…
Ask us how we prefer to communicate and support us as you are able
Assume that we are competent
Talk to us with the same respect, tone and vocabulary that you would for any one else
Give us money (this one is a joke)
Understand that AAC grammar isn’t perfect and we are doing our best
Is it rude if…
I can’t understand your device? Not rude! Misunderstandings happen all the time in any conversation, just be patient as you would normally. 
I want to complement your AAC? Not rude!
I ask to see your AAC and understand how it works? This isn’t rude if you are already talking about AAC, but don’t ask random strangers this. They don’t owe you an AAC tour. 
Thank you for listening! This post is for the community! If you are an AAC user, let me know if I missed something in the comments and I will pin it! I hope you are filled with peace and love and I hope something good happens to you today! End ID. 
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everlastingdream · 4 months ago
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The first time it happened, all agents took their weapons out the moment Lena entered the building like she owns it.
Alex considered firing everyone who let her past the guard post and then shoot her. In the leg. Maybe.
"Take it", Lena threw something at Brainy, who somehow was completely calm. It relaxed Alex too, since Brainy was an expert on calculating danger level of everyone.
And then Lena just turned around and exited the DEO, like she was dropping of their lunch or something. And she was still fighting with Kara!
"What the hell, Luthor!?" Alex shouted to her back, only to recieve resolute "Shut up!" in return.
Alex sputtered, because: excuse me, but you came to the secret underground goverment facility like to your own office! Brainy muttered something, tinkering with the thing Lena brought.
"It's anti-kriptonite suit", he said in wonder, already running some simulations on his tablet. "She shouldn't has figured this out for ahother five years".
"Brainy, test this thing in every way you can, and if it's safe, take it to Kara immediately", Alex grumbled, but her sister's safety was more important than Luthor's strange wims.
/ / / / / / / / / /
Next time everyone still grabbed their weapons, but wasn't ready to shoot just yet, as Lena angrily stormed into the building. Perhaps it was because despite her stare she complied with every security measure guards asked of her.
Which didn't stop her from slamming thick file into Alex's chest.
"What the hell, Luthor!?" Alex saw how Brainy grabbed Nia's hand to stop her from standing up.
"Shut up", Lena returned, as she went back without any explanation.
Alex was left with papers and strange sense of deja-vu.
Looking through evidence on their resent villain and drafts of some devices to counter his powers, Alex thought about how Lena always choose time when Kara was absent from the building.
/ / / / / / / / / /
When they reached fifth visit like that no one was surprised anymore. Because everytime they would be stuck, Lena will miraculously appear with what they need. But she still stubbornly refused to talk with anyone besides Brainy and only about science behind her inventions.
This time she confidentely walked into the building, but Brainy instantly stood up. Everyone around them tensed, powers and guns ready. Lena opened her mouth to protest but he forced her to sit under bewildered eyes of everyone in the room.
"She's injured", was the only thing Brainy said, as he pried another helpful thing from Lena's hands.
"Am not", Lena replied, and Alex noticed how she slurred her words a little. "Take this shit and let me go".
Nia was already out of the room, fetching medical supplies, when Alex moved Brainy to the side to check on her.
"Left side, one inch lower than her ribs", he told Alex. Nia, who put Alex's medical bag down, gently rubbed his back, even if it was almost invisible that he was worried.
Alex pressed her hand under Lena's jacket where he instructed, and her fingers returned covered in blood.
Lena was still swearing, when Alex cleared her wound - bullet hole - and dressed it.
"You need medical attention, Luthor", Alex said quietly. After everything she was still angry at the other woman but it didn't mean she wanted her dead.
"If I show it to someone, I'm as good as dead", Lena chuckled, cleary half-delirious from pain and pain-killers. How she managed to get there on the sole willpower was beyond understanding. "Even if you want it, I would like to live a little longer".
Alex didn't answer. Couldn't. Even if she knew it wasn't true, some part of her wanted Lena to believe it. To suffer.
It was a shameful, selfish thought.
/ / / / / / / / / /
"Lena?" Kara's weak voice sounded incredibly loud in the quiet of their usual exchange.
Lena stiffened and promtly turned to flee in the middle of her conversation with Brainy.
"Lena!" Kara could catch up to her in the blink of an eye, but somehow near Lena she always forgot she has powers.
Lena spent too much time talking over some sort of mathematical models and Kara wrapped up her mission early.
"Please, wait!"
"Leave me alone", Lena gritted through her teeth, but even Alex saw tears in her eyes, as she sped up.
"She's hurting", Brainy supplied from Alex's side, as they both watched this strange chase.
"She's injured again?" Alex asked with small pang of guilt.
"No, she's hurting emotionally. More than she shows."
He didn't add anything else. They watched door slamming into Kara's pitiful face.
/ / / / / / / / / /
"Why are you helping us?" Alex asked her about a month after Lena and Kara's dramatic meeting.
"Shut up", Lena answered, tired as hell after three all-nighters they pulled to rescue Kara from another dimension.
"It's getting old, Luthor. Spill the beans".
Perhaps it's exhaustion, perhaps it is somehow sisterly look in Alex's eyes, but Lena is silent suddenly, before almost pushing words out.
"You said you will turn over the world for your sister, didn't you? I had someone like that once. My big brother, who would be the only one to treat me like a person in the place that was supposed to be my home. Who protected me from everything he could. And whom I admired so much I wanted to be just like him".
Alex tensed, as always when talking about Lex. But Lena's voice was quiet, and her face already wet from tears she seemed to hold for so long, and Alex shut her mouth this time.
"When he did all that he did, I was disappointed. But I still loved my big brother. But when he first tried to kill me? I was heartbroken. The person who withstood father's beatings in my place tried to kill me", Lena chuckled through her sobs.
Alex never allowed herself to think about Lex past his atrocites. She couldn't afford any pity for the person who tormented her sister and her family. But right now there was another little girl beside her who lost her only family.
"You said you will turn over the world for your sister, didn't you?", Lena turned to her. "I killed my brother for her".
She didn't said anything after that. Just cried herself to sleep. And Alex was just sitting there, left alone with shocking news and even more shocking realizations. Lex was dead. Lena was the one who killed him. He told her Kara was Supergirl and she still killed him.
/ / / / / / / / / /
"Don't pity me, it makes my skin crawl", Lena said the next day, when she was given her own pass to the DEO. She threw it on the table right in front of Alex, and agent considered asking 'what the hell, Luthor' just for the fun.
"I'm not. But after what you did for my sister and what you continue to do, the least I can do is to give you free entrance".
Lena sat beside her, tired and feverish from overwork.
"Don't care about me either".
"When will you talk to Kara?" Lena scowled when Alex ignored her, but still took the pass.
"Never, perhaps. I look at her and see the dead body of my brother. It's not something a little talk can fix. And she will blame herself, burdening me with another endless boundle of her apologies".
"She will learn of his death eventually, and then she'll found out how he died. It will happen anyway. And yes, of course, nothing will be fixed just because you too will talk. But maybe you can relieve some of your burden, and maybe several small talks will help you both".
Lena didn't lift her head from the shiny surface of the table. But she nodded tiniest bit.
/ / / / / / / / / /
Lena kept coming to help. Kara kept trying to talk to her.
One day Lena conceded, and then she screamed at Kara for an hour in the empty conference room and stormed out.
They had reverse situation later, when Lena came injured once again. Kara screamed about her being reckless, and they eventually reached her past sorrows.
They screamed, then talked, then whispered. And slowly started to smile again. Later came tentative touches, lunches and game nights.
So when almost two years later Alex found them in the kitchen doing something she would prefer to erase from her mind, everything finally became as it should.
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perfinn · 3 months ago
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you're out of touch, i'm out of time
aegon ii targaryen x reader - part ii
wc: 4.6k
summary: you search for answers on why aegon is here, and find you rather enjoy his company
cw: f!reader, aegon the cringefail king, kinda just a lot of hanging out, a little make out session, aegon almost pushes toward dubcon advances but he's quickly stopped
masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika
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You hardly sleep a wink that first night with Aegon in your flat. You’re too worried about him, and the carpet in the living room. You’re still not an expert on history, but you’re quite sure that vodka hadn’t been invented yet when Aegon was supposed to be alive. If it had, Westeros hadn’t yet set up any trade routes beyond the Bone Mountains. You still remember your first vodka hangover, even if you don’t quite remember the night that preceded it, and it was not a good time. Aegon is in for something of a shock if he hasn’t drowned in his own vomit– cheap as your vodka is, it’s a lot stronger than that piss water from the Arbour the historians all say he drank.
You rise from your bed with your alarm, not snoozing it as you usually do and instead going to go check on Aegon. Thankfully, he’s right where you left him and alive and well, if his open-mouth snoring is any indication. He’s splayed out on your couch, legs falling over the side and bottle of water you’d made up for him spilled on the floor. Hells, at least it’s only water he spilled. 
Leaving him to sleep a moment longer, you pad into the kitchen and rummage around for the electrolyte tablets you keep for this exact scenario. Well– maybe not this exactly. Usually it’s reserved for your own hangovers, not for when the time travelling king of Westeros has broken into your drink cabinet and passed out on your couch. But close enough. You make up a drink for him, deciding he can cope with the orange flavour even if he doesn’t like it and come back over, setting the glass loudly down on the coffee table and waking Aegon with a jolt. 
He almost falls from the couch, gasping and throwing his hands over his ears. “Get out!” He demands, wincing at the sound of his own voice. “Five more minutes!”
“Not your chambermaid, Aegon,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. “Drink this. And no, yesterday wasn't a fever dream, you’re still in the future.”
Part of you had hoped yesterday's events were a weird dream of your own. 
Aegon cracks his eyes open, taking in the sight of you slowly before he groans and presses his fists hard into his eye sockets. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “My head…”
“Yeah,” you say, picking the glass back up and holding it out to him. “Straight vodka will do that to you. Drink.”
He lowers his hands and eyes you suspiciously as he reaches for the glass, sniffing it. You roll your eyes. He’ll drink from a random bottle he finds in your home but not something you’re offering to him?
“It'll make you feel better,” you say. “It's orange flavoured.”
“Well, that makes it alright then,” he grumbles, taking a slow sip and moving to sit upright. “If I’m getting poisoned, at least the poison tastes like oranges.”
You make your way over to the kitchen and fish around your cupboards for instant coffee as Aegon makes a noise of confusion.
“Why is it-” he stops, brows furrowed as he looks for the word. “Bubbles?”
“Oh,” you say, looking back at him while you clutch the Garfield mug you found at the thrift a few months ago. You lean over to put the kettle on, sighing as you realise how much of modern life you’re going to have to explain to Aegon. You wonder how much of it can be avoided, skirted around so you don't have to explain the entire industrial revolution to him. “Yeah, it’s fizzy. It’s not poison, just science.”
Aegon stares at you indignantly. “Are you a witch?”
“Gods, it’s not a magic potion, Aegon. Why can’t you just accept that we’ve made a bit of progress in the last thousand years? Things are different, that doesn’t make it magic. Just drink it, it’ll help you feel better.”
Aegon takes a slow sip, lips turning down as he seems to decide he likes it well enough. You turn your back to him and scoop a spoonful of the coffee into your mug, wondering what you’re going to do with him. You’ll have to call out of work, at least for today. You don’t trust him to be left alone; Gods know where he’ll end up, if he’ll contract some disease his immune system isn’t ready for or get hit by a car as he so nearly did yesterday. You hear him groan softly and turn back to see him leaning back on the sofa and sipping slowly at the drink.
You suppose he probably wants your attention, but you withhold it until you’ve taken the first sip of your coffee. It tastes as shit as you expect instant coffee to taste. Gods, you need to buy a proper coffee machine. You make your way back over to him, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. 
“Ready to talk yet?” You ask him. 
Aegon grunts, rubbing at his temple. “Quietly,” he mumbles. “I had hoped yesterday might be a dream.”
“Me too,” you say, sipping slowly at your coffee. “I’ll be frank with you, Aegon, I don’t know what to do with you.”
Aegon scoffs, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. You’d tell him to take them down, but it’s not exactly a nice coffee table. You can see him staring at the plastic dragon figure on the TV unit. The bags under his eyes are so heavy. “That often seems to be the case,” he says, leaning forward slowly and picking up the dragon. It’s a small one, red and gold. “I wonder how this feels for Sunfyre…”
“Sunfyre was your dragon, right?” You ask, voice still quiet as he requested.
He nods, frowning as he moves the hard plastic wing of the toy. “He’s a fine beast,” he says. “Should he think me dead?”
“I wouldn't know,” you say. “Aegon, I think we need to get you home.”
Aegon goes quiet, almost as though he knows, somehow, that a grizzly fate awaits him in his own time. But he nods. “Yes,” he agrees. “How?”
“No idea. We’ll need to go to the library.”
He looks over at you, setting the dragon down and raising an eyebrow. “So you really can read?”
“Really really,” you say with a slight smile. “We peasants have been literate for centuries. I’ll make you some breakfast and then we can go.”
Aegon leans back again, watching you with wonder as you go back to the kitchen. “You know, I thought we might teach the smallfolk to read,” he says. “I think after the war I’ll bring it up.”
You glance over at him and smile. “Maybe you will.”
“They like me, I think,” Aegon says. “The smallfolk. Aegon the Magnanimous.”
You raise an eyebrow, pulling down a box of cereal. “Kind of lame.”
Aegon sighs. “Yes. We are working on it.”
Once Aegon has eaten his fill of your off brand cereal (which he decides he hates) you get him up and lead him out of the house. Aegon still seems fascinated with the world outside. 
“I suppose it does still look like King’s Landing,” he says, staring up at the buildings around him. He refuses to look at the cars, and you can’t blame him. You can’t imagine they’d be an easy thing to process right off the bat. Still, he’s going to have to deal with it when you get onto the bus. 
You stop at the bus stop with him, pulling out your phone to check when it’ll arrive. You can feel Aegon staring at you, you glance up, seeing that confused look on his face. You put the phone away. “Bus’ll be here in five minutes.”
He nods, but doesn’t ask what a bus is. “It is strange,” he says. “It looks so different, but much the same.”
You nod, offering him a small smile. “A lot of it is heritage protected, so it can’t be altered. We’ve expanded a lot, so all the outer city is newer, but this is the centre.”
“This is Flea Bottom, right?”
You smile, laughing a bit. “Yeah, it is. They called it Flea Bottom back then too?”
Aegon nods, sniffing the air. “It doesn’t smell so badly these days, but the buildings are the same.”
“Yeah, well, rent’s cheapest here. There was some government initiative to clean it up. Or gentrify it. The university bought out a bunch of the flats for student accommodation, it was the best I could afford.”
“This… university, it is like the Citadel?”
You nod. “Citadel’s a university too, but yes.”
“No, the Citadel is the Citadel,” he says, scoffing. 
“Okay, it’s a university now. Certainly not one I can afford,” you huff, reminded of the rejected scholarship you’d applied for. You suppose it wouldn’t have helped– rent in Oldtown is something else entirely. You crane your neck to spot the bus, seeing it coming close enough to flag it down. Aegon immediately steps behind you, eyeing the huge vehicle warily. You reach back, gently taking his hand and squeezing it without thinking. 
“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Just trust me and follow me.”
You feel Aegon’s breath falter, and somehow you know he’s staring at your hand in his. You gently lead him up the step and ask the bus driver to tap on for two. The busdriver raises an eyebrow at Aegon, but nods and lets you on. You scan your card, leading Aegon up to a seat by the back.
Aegon sits down, frowning at the interior. “This is like a wheelhouse. But with no horse. And uglier.”
“They’re not really made for style,” you tell him. 
He nods, looking at you again. He glances down at your hands, still intertwined. When you notice, you begin to pull away with the thought that he doesn’t like it. But Aegon only holds you tighter. You meet his eyes and find something desperate in them, a silent begging for you not to let go. Strange. But you oblige. 
“So,” you say softly. “Can you tell me what you last remember?”
Aegon exhales slowly, puffing out his cheeks and glancing between you and the window. He settles on watching the world pass by, no doubt faster than any wheelhouse could carry him. He must decide he trusts you enough. 
“It was nothing,” he tells you, leaning his forehead against the window. “I was with my favourites. Drinking, talking. Discussing my sobriquet. Everything after that is nothing. I didn’t even go to sleep. It is as though I blinked, and I was in the street. Then I met you.”
“Well that's…” You purse your lips, leaning back in the bus seat. “Nondescript. You weren't doing anything out of the ordinary? Not fucking with any ancient rocks? Weirwood trees?”
“No,” he says, sliding his gaze toward you. “I was on the throne, in the Keep.”
None of this helps. You scratch at your chin as you try to make sense of any of it. You pull your phone from your pocket, opening the browser and typing in – dreading the targeted ads you’re inadvertently signing yourself up to get – ‘accidental time travel firsthand account.’
Aegon peers over, watching the screen with fascination as you scroll past various untrustworthy conspiracy sites. 
“Do you suppose perhaps Rhaenyra paid a witch to curse me?”
“Why would she do that?”
Aegon's lips pull down in a pouty frown. “Well, my brother did kill her son.”
“Yeah, well, that'll do it,” you sigh, closing your phone and leaning back in your seat. You glance out the window, watching the city go by. The people milling about the street go by so quickly you cannot see their faces. However strange a day anyone thinks they may be having, it cannot be more than yours. 
“Witches. Woods witches. Weirwood, maybe,” you murmur, tilting your head this way and that. “Even if you weren't directly fucking with any, there's one in the Keep’s godswood. I went on a tour when I first moved here.”
“A tour…?”
“It's as good a place to start as any. Weirwood, woods witches, and rock formations. The library will have plenty on it.”
You get off the bus at the campus library soon after. The university sits upon Visenya’s hill behind the sept, which you’ve never really bothered to enter. It’s a strange thing, living in such a city rather than visiting it. Apart from your dead boring tour of the Red Keep, you've never visited the tourist traps. Growing up in the Riverlands, you never once visited any of the old castles. You always thought you might see more of King’s Landing when you came. Perhaps you would if you could, but you find you rarely have the time between study and work. 
As you ascend the steps with Aegon in tow, he stops and turns, gazing across the city. You glance back at him, following his gaze up Aegon’s High Hill, where the Red Keep sits. You stop in your footsteps, coming back down toward him. 
“You okay?” You venture. 
“Yes,” he murmurs. “Just odd, I suppose. It looks the same.”
“Lots of it still does, I guess. The dragonpit is still there too.”
You nod your head to the other end of the city, pointing him to the ruins of the building. 
Aegon pales. “It's… what happened to it?”
“Time,” you murmur. In part because it's true, but also because you don't know why it's in ruins. You’ve never been that far up the hill. You’ve never had it in you to wonder. 
“I don't believe you.”
You look over at him, and an intense purple gaze meets yours. You scoff. “I think I’m getting used to you not believing me,” you say. “Come on.”
You continue up the stairs and Aegon follows after a moment. “You really won't tell me what happened to the dragonpit?”
“No. Because I don't know. It's been like that for centuries, as far as I’m aware. And even if I did know, I feel like there has to be some sort of rule against it.”
“Against what?”
“Against telling you about the future!”
“What? But I’m already here! If the Gods didn't want me to know about the future I wouldn't be here!”
You purse your lips. He makes a good point, but still. “Well all the movies say it's bad. What if I send you back and you change things, and make it so I cease to exist? And I can’t tell you anyway because I don't know, so don't worry about it.”
“You know, I don't understand half the things you say,” Aegon says as you push the door to the library open, gesturing for him to enter first. 
“Likewise.”
Once inside, you make your way up to the librarian’s desk, the older woman immediately perking up with your presence. You smile at her. 
“Hi, um, I’m after pretty much anything you have on weirwood trees, woods witches, and, uh, like rock formations–”
“And any scrolls you have on Aegon the Second, thank you.”
“No.”
You look back at Aegon, who pouts at being denied. You imagine he’s not used to that.  
“Don't worry yourself with the Aegon stuff,” you say, looking back at the librarian sheepishly. “He's uh… easily distracted.”
The librarian smiles anyway, putting her glasses on the end of her nose and leaning into her computer. “Let me see what I can find you.”
A few minutes later, Aegon and yourself are seated at a secluded table surrounded by soft chairs and lit by dusty sunlight, tucked away between bookshelves only matched in age by Aegon. Old books and new are scattered across the table, and Aegon marvels at the shining pages of a new textbook, thumbing at the photographs of Harrenhal. 
“Can I see that one?” You ask, holding your hands out for it. Aegon slides it across. He folds his arms on the table, leaning forward and resting his chin on his arms. 
“Do you do this often?” He asks. “Seems dreadfully dull.”
You shake your head. “Not as often as I ought to.”
“I assume this is what my father did all day,” he grumbles, thumbing at the worn cover of a book on the Old Gods. “Before he, you know.”
“Died?”
“No,” he says. “Well, yes. But I think his soul left long before his body gave out.”
You nod, unsure what to say. From what you can gather, Aegon didn't have much of a relationship with his father. You’re not sure if it's wise to pry. You’re not sure what you’d say if you did. 
Aegon begins to make a clicking sound with his mouth as you flick through the pages. 
“You could help,” you say after a moment. 
“You want me to read?” He scoffs. “Your magical little drink didn't work that well. I just wish we had a bard or something.”
“A bard,” you repeat, voice flat. You roll your eyes, fishing into your pocket for your phone. He watches you with curiosity as you set the phone down and begin playing something at low volume. As soon as the song begins, he jolts upright and leans forward. He snatches up the phone, turning it over in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. It’s some old synth song, something you remember watching your parents dance to when they’d have their friends over on the weekend and drink late into the night. 
“Incredible,” Aegon murmurs. “How do you look at dusty books when you have this thing? Bards and scrolls at your fingertips.”
“I’m actually trying to get my screentime down,” you say sheepishly. “It’s uh… it’s pretty rough.”
Aegon gives you a quizzical glance before he’s distracted by your screen lighting up. He seems quite entertained by your lock screen and is silent for a few moments. You turn your gaze back to the books, resting your temple on your fist. 
Your phone buzzes after a moment, and you glance at it only momentarily before you school yourself back toward the books. You’ve been trying to stop being so trained by your phone.
“Messages. Jeyne– and there’s a little drawing of what I suppose is a seashell –” You bolt upright as Aegon begins reading out the message. You try to snatch it from him, but he moves it out of your reach. “I just got YiTish dick – Seven Hells, then there’s more of these drawings, they look to be peaches? – freaky as everyone says.”
You stare, stunned into silence, at Aegon as he processes what he’s just read, looking at you with a wicked sort of grin. He sets the phone down, now playing some modern house music you barely remember adding to your playlist. 
“I’m to understand this is some sort of raven, yes?”
“Yes,” you say. Gods, what else could you even say to that? Your former roommate was never the most couth person, and you were never her biggest fan. But even though she’s disappeared to the other side of the world, you’re still subject to her unprompted oversharing. 
“This Jeyne is quite something.”
“Yep,” you mumble, managing to grab your phone back. “How about we wrap this up for today? I’m suddenly craving YiTish food.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Aegon snickers. You realise that this may be the first time you’ve seen him smile, however wry and mocking it may be. It’s a lovely expression, but one you suspect he doesn’t wear very often. 
“Come on,” you say, picking up several of the books. “Grab a few. We’re taking them back. But I’m borrowing this weirwood tree one.”
Aegon groans in protest, but gathers up the remaining books to balance in his arms. Once you’ve borrowed the book and created a list of the others, you escape the dusty library into the waning sunlight.
Aegon is a chatterbox when you’re on the bus again, and as you order the both of you some YiTish food. Clearly his hangover’s worn off. You smile apologetically at the young girl behind the counter as you take the bags of food. You shoot Aegon a look in hopes of shutting him up, but you have no such luck. The walk back up to your flat is accompanied by the sound of Aegon's voice. 
When you get inside, he finally stops. Now that you’re in private, he wishes no longer to speak? You glance back at him with a raised eyebrow, but he's watching you unpack the food. 
“I got you sweet and sour pork,” you tell him, handing him the little box and a fork. “Should be free enough of any major allergens… if not, Jeyne left behind an epipen.”
“I’m growing quite tired of asking you what things mean,” he says, opening up the box and sniffing at it. He pulls his lips down but doesn't look to actually be frowning. 
You grab your own food, moving to sit down on your worn sofa and beckoning for Aegon to join you. “I’m guessing your time doesn't have YiTish food,” you say. 
He huffs, nodding as he sits down and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You’d tell him to knock that off if you had a nicer coffee table, but as it is – a piece of shit wooden box with shaky wheels on the bottom – you don't bother. “Not by far.”
“I’m not sure how authentic this is,” you say, poking your chopsticks into the box and searching for a nice crunchy bit of cabbage. “But it's cheap, and has never done me wrong.”
Aegon takes a tentative bite, and you watch as his face twists in curious acceptance of the new flavours. It’s… Gods, well, it's sort of cute. 
“I like it. I think,” he remarks, taking another bite and leaning back comfortably. “Much has changed.”
You nod, glancing out of the window at the city lights. How had it looked all those years ago? How has the skylike changed? Brightened?
“You say you can't tell me what you know about my life,” Aegon says slowly. You nod, opening your mouth to sigh and tell him again that you won't budge, only he stops you. “I’m not going to ask. I only want to make sense of your world. And what remains of mine.”
“Oh,” you murmur. “Okay. Well, I’ll try.”
Aegon nods, looking down contemplatively. “Hm… the Dothraki?”
Not… exactly where you expected him to start. “Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “They're still around. They're kind of baller, actually. Like they gained all the modern stuff but still live nomadically.”
“Are they still so… brutal?”
“Oh, no,” you say. “Really kind of a peaceful state now. Jeyne reckons she'll be heading to the Sea after YiTi.”
Aegon nods slowly. “This Jeyne girl is quite something. She used to live with you?”
You nod. “Yeah. We were assigned the same flat… I can’t say I ever really liked her much, but she was tolerable.”
“And she… left? Escaped? “
“Mhm. Decided she was unfulfilled by higher education and fucked of to YiTi to ‘find herself.’ Alright for some, I guess.”
Aegon stares at you in silence for a moment, smiling ever so slightly. “You speak in such a strange and wonderful way,” he murmurs. 
You can't help but smile. He has a nice smile about him. You suspect it's not an expression he uses much, at least not in a real, involuntary way. 
“So do you,” you say softly. He’s… goodness, he’s beautiful in this light. You know you shouldn't think that. 
(But then, why shouldn't you? He's a grown man, he’s sober, what’s stopping you? Responsibility? Expectation? You’re not certain.)
He must see the budding conflict on your face because he reaches out to touch your cheek. He lifts his thumb up, pressing it between your eyebrows to smooth out the crease there. “Why the frown?”
You smile wryly at him. “Just thinking,” you tell him as he sets his food down. 
“Of course. You do a lot of that, don't you?”
You huff a soft laugh. “Too much.”
He shifts closer, and you find yourself less and less willing to stop him with every second. “Take a break from thinking,” he says, leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss before you can respond. 
There's a moment of hesitation, the briefest second where you contemplate pulling away. You should. The last thing you should be doing is letting Aegon entangle himself with you. He's misplaced in time, practically a stranger. Not to mention married.
(Unhappily, and to his sister, but all the same.)
But the moment passes. And you let him. And you lean into him and return the favour. Encouraged by your response, Aegon shifts closer and grabs at your waist, trying to pull you closer. 
It happens fast, he doesn't seem to want to waste time building up to a point before he's shoving his tongue into your mouth and crashing his teeth against yours. 
“Aegon,” you murmur. He only grunts in protest, continuing his advances. “Aegon, slow down.”
Aegon huffs as he pulls away just a fraction, hands groping a little too harshly at your hips. “What for?”
You frown at him, gently pushing him away. He relents, but begins to scowl. You place your hands firmly on his shoulders. “There's no need to rush,” you say quietly.
You realise then that Aegon is used to taking. He is used to taking what he needs and not bothering with any sort of lead-up beyond unrefined kissing. He surges forward to kiss you again but you place your hand in his face and shove him away. 
He cries your name indignantly, unused to being denied either. 
“Sit down,” you say firmly, shoving him back onto the sofa cushion. “And stay.”
Aegon looks stunned, but readily obeys. He leans back against the cushions and watches you warily as you shift closer to him, throwing your leg over his lap so you straddle him. Aegon seems almost afraid to touch you all of a sudden, so you take his hands and place them gently on your hips. 
Should you be encouraging this? Absolutely not. But some touch starved little sect of your brain has staged a coup on your good sense, so here you are. 
“Have you never done this before?” You ask him softly. 
“Been ridden?” He scoffs. “Of course I have.”
“No,” you say. “I’m not riding you. Have you ever just made out with someone for a little while?”
Averting his eyes, Aegon shakes his head. 
“That’s okay,” you murmur, catching his lips in a gentle kiss that seems to startle him. You place your hands on his chest, closing your eyes as you kiss him again. He’s hesitant now, unsure. But you press on, sucking gently at his lip before slowly, gently, sliding your tongue into his mouth and dragging it over the flat of his. Aegon makes a soft noise of shock, hands grasping a little harder at the soft of your hips.
Before, he hadn’t seemed to know what to do with his tongue in your mouth except to have it shoved in there, desperate to have some sort of dominance over your mouth. You can tell he’s still fighting the urge to take over, but he sits nicely for you, only gently pushing back against your tongue. He seems to rather enjoy the feeling of not being in charge, of simply being guided. Not told what to do, not commanded, just… treated gently. 
After a while, you gently pull away, your thumb brushing over his wet bottom lip. “Do you want to keep going?” You ask, though you know you shouldn’t.
Aegon looks up at you with dilated eyes, pupils almost sparkling as he blinks slowly. Almost dazed. “I’d like to keep doing this. It’s nice.”
You smile, gently pecking his lips and nodding. “Okay,” you whisper. “We can keep doing this.”
You decide your research can wait. It’ll still be there tomorrow. 
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marlynnofmany · 3 months ago
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One More Earth Animal
Since the only reason our spaceship had a cat was because I’d rescued a family of them from people who had no business keeping any animal, and since a couple of crewmates had helped in that rescue, and everyone was agreed that it was a deed well done, I was very interested when I heard that our newest courier job was transporting another rescued cat.
I was loading supplies on the far end of the ship when I got a message from the captain about this last-minute addition. I was the animal expert — from the same planet as our new cargo, no less — and she requested my presence. The extra info that the cat had been dumped on a colony world by illegal traders who hadn’t been able to sell it just made me hurry through the hallways faster.
As I entered the cargo bay, my thoughts were on whether I should have detoured to grab a medical scanner, and wondering if Telly would want to be friends with the furball in the cage. Where was that cage? Ah, over by the door next to the captain and the customer. Other crewmates were loading boxes while they talked.
“I’m glad you’re going in the right direction,” the customer said while she signed the payment tablet with several red tentacles, while waving two more for emphasis. “This isn’t the first time somebody’s dumped live cargo, and at least this time I know a guy from the right planet who’s eager for a new pet. Sounds like he misses Earth, and would be happy to have anything that reminds him of home. Oh hey, speaking of which!” She waved a tentacle at me as I walked up. “Another Earthling. Good luck all around.”
Captain Sunlight nodded and took the payment tablet back, every inch the dignified lizard alien. “Yes, Robin here has been a big help with animal cargos, cats in particular.”
“My pleasure,” I said with a wave. “Can I get a look?” The cage was the kind with bars on the front and only ventilation holes on the sides; good for animals that needed to feel safely hidden, but not great for trained veterinarians wanting to inspect them without opening the door.
“By all means,” the customer said, scooting the cage forward. “It’s been very calm. It shouldn’t give you any trouble.”
I crouched down from my tall human height and peered into the shadows, hoping the cat was healthy, not calm because of illness. Had they scanned it already? They must have.
A skunk peered back at me.
“Oh jeez!” I fell back and scrambled away, startling everyone in the room. “That’s not a cat! Keep your distance!”
Captain Sunlight immediately stepped away, alarm on her scaly face. “What is it? What’s the danger?” The customer was babbling in surprise, but I ignored her.
“That’s a skunk,” I said, fully aware that the name probably meant nothing here. “They’re a breathing hazard when provoked. They spray a toxic liquid that will ruin the air on our whole ship until it’s properly cleaned. You’re lucky it didn’t do it already.” I aimed that last at the customer.
She flailed her tentacles in distress. “It’s been very calm! Not afraid of anyone! Are you sure it’s not a cat?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. Then something else occurred to me. “Have you scanned it for disease?”
The tentacle movements turned guilty. “My assistant said he did…”
I leapt to my feet and raced down the hall. “Be right back! Don’t touch it!”
They replied, but I was already out of earshot, dodging past crewmates without stopping to explain. Rabies was largely eradicated on Earth, but this wasn’t Earth. And a potentially rabid skunk was infinitely worse than a tame one.
Eggskin was in the medbay; I didn’t pause to see what they were doing. I just grabbed the hand scanner from its spot on the wall and raced back the way I’d come. “Need this, thanks!”
Questions followed me, but I ran faster. Almost plowed into Blip going around a corner, but I ducked under her muscular elbow with an apology and kept going. Blop was right behind her, stepping to the side. The pair also had questions that I ignored.
Back in the cargo bay, Captain Sunlight was questioning the customer on the far side of the room, with Zhee and Paint also standing back. The cage was right where I’d left it.
I activated the scanner, getting as close as I dared. “Please don’t have rabies. Please please please.”
After a moment, the scanner pinged: Free Of Disease. Relief hit me like a wave. “It’s not contagious,” I announced.
The scanner was still processing, and it came up with extra information that made me laugh in deeper relief.
“Its stink gland was removed!” I collapsed onto the floor in front of the cage. “Doubly safe. Everything’s okay.”
Captain Sunlight said, “That is good news.”
The customer pressed several tentacles over where her heart probably was. “I didn’t need that kind of scare today! Clearly I should have words with the assistant who identified the species.”
“They got the planet right, at least,” I said, shutting off the scanner. “But yeah, if there’s a chance there are more skunks wandering around out there, you do NOT want to assume they’ll act like cats.”
Captain Sunlight was thinking ahead. “Will this be a problem for the recipient? Since it’s not the animal he’s expecting?”
The customer spread her tentacles. “He did say that he’d welcome any creature from home that could handle living indoors!”
I waggled my fingers experimentally, and the skunk waddled forward to sniff them. “I think it’ll be okay.”
Captain Sunlight asked, “This is an acceptable companion animal, once the gland is removed?”
I laughed. “No, they make terrible pets. But people have kept worse. I’ll have a talk with the guy on delivery, and I think it’ll be fine. This little fluffer has probably been raised by hand. And skunks really are adorable, once you get past that whole spraying issue.”
“Good to know,” said Captain Sunlight. She finished the transaction with the customer, who was more than happy to leave the skunk in our possession. Zhee and Paint expressed their own relief and finished moving boxes around. The captain volunteered to put the scanner back while I brought the animal cargo to our quietest storage hold.
I carried the cage very carefully, the polar opposite of my wild dash through the corridors earlier.
It took a while for Eggskin to find me, since apparently Blop had gotten a papercut or something that needed tending to, but after a few minutes the medic entered the storage bay with all the caution of someone approaching a dangerous creature.
Eggskin probably wasn’t expecting to find me holding it and cooing sweet nonsense while it chittered happily in my lap. But it really was friendly, and like I said, skunks are adorable.
~~~
These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.
Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.
The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).
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luveline · 8 months ago
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hello, I know you’re all probably aware of what’s happening in Palestine, but just in case you don’t know, since Israel's offensive military onslaught began, over 25,000 Palestinians have been killed, and things are continuing to get worse, there is real risk of genocide
I realise you’re all probably in a similar position to me where you feel like you don’t have much power to help, but there are some things you can do to help that will only take a few minutes! for free, you can sign this petition at amnesty demanding a ceasefire
with save the children, any small donation can make a difference. I know it’s hard to budget sometimes and if you can’t make a contribution that’s okay, but if you can a little goes a long way. when I donated £33 in march toward the Gaza crisis page, it was enough for one food basket. If you can donate £3 today that money can pay for 17 malnutrition treating food sachets, or 25 water sterilising tablets. These packs go toward the 600,000 children that are affected by the conflict and Israel’s demand that civilians in eastern Rafah leave to Al-Mawasi (all the info I’ve said here is from the save the children page where you can visit yourself from the food basket link)
So sorry if any of this information is incorrect but please read the links if you want to know more they are where I’ve received some of my information, or research how to donate if you want to donate to a broader demographic and make your own informed decisions, With a lot of information available it’s difficult to know what’s reputable so I’ve included links from sources I think are trustworthy, and I would never profess to be an expert in any of this but hopefully it can point anyone who isn’t aware of what’s happening or what is going to happen soon in the right direction
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mistydeyes · 1 year ago
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Hello!! Could you do headcanons with the 141 boys with a partner who has frequent migraines and they are in the task force with them as well?
Honestly, any of these boys taking care of me while I have a migraine or just sick cures me in just a few seconds lol
thank you for requesting! I thought this was super cute to write and I was able to recall some of the non-harm methods for treating migraines :) I literally cannot even deal with a headache so I can't imagine what frequent migraines must feel like
migraines and forehead kisses
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summary: You've been diagnosed with frequent migraines but sometimes it is so unbearable that the 141 will step in and be sure to soothe their significant other.
pairing: Taskforce 141 x gn!Reader
warnings: none, all fluff :)
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price
most of the time, your migraines are triggered by stress or following a long, sleepless mission
price can tell when your in pain, especially when you close your eyes tightly or put your head in your hands
he'll rub your shoulders and offer to make you some coffee to help
he knows you are regimented about your medication so he often offers other methods of helping your headache
and as caffeine is the answer to all of price's problems, he immediately makes you a pot of coffee
as you put your head down on the table, you can smell the strong scent of coffee beans
"don't make it too strong" you mumble and he would laugh
it's a legitimate request as you have tried his coffee and you swear it would kill a small child
"here you go, love" he would say and presents you with a small mug
you're not sure if its the stimulants from the caffeine or just being back on base, but you're headache dissipates within moments
he'll continue to ask about your condition until you reassure him you're fine
"it's always the coffee"
he's so proud of it even though its something you can buy from the grocers
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soap
when you first had a migraine, soap wanted to rush you to the infirmary
he practically loses it when you tell him how you can see an aura in your vision and how it feels like a jackhammer on your brain
only after you reassured him it was a reoccurring thing and you were diagnosed before you entered selection, he calms down
now he's an expert at helping you recover
you found that brufen helps the best and soap will always have it on hand
when you closed your eyes tightly on the plane and complained about the fluorescent overhead light, he immediately searched through his tac vest
"it's here somewhere," he would say as you could hear various zippers and velcro pockets being opened
eventually he opened your palm to offer you the small tablet
"you sure this isn't expired?" you asked and he reassured you he just got it from the chemist's last week
he handed you your flask of water and patted your back after you swallowed it
as you waited for the medication kick in, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder and draws circles into your back
"it'll be alright" he reassures and you have to tell him to lower his voice as it makes the migraine worse
he'll get it right one day
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gaz
when you first told gaz you had frequent migraines, he spent all night looking up remedies
you already were on medication and had your analgesics at the ready so he focused on home remedies
for a few weeks, you both tried out various techniques (caffeine and essential oils being your least favorite)
eventually, you found that a good scalp massage was ideal for making the pain go away
something about increasing blood circulation
as long as you're not in the middle of an active war zone, he will gladly sit you in between his legs and give you the best massage in the world
he'll start at the base of your scalp and work his way up with his fingers
"just let me know if i'm hurting you, love," he'd reassure but his gentle touch always made you feel comforted
it honestly feels like one of those head scratchers but a thousand times better
you joke that he should've been a masseuse instead of joining the military
he'll hum lightly as he continues until you let him know that you're feeling better
you're more than happy to return the favor with his aching muscles (especially his back and shoulders)
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ghost
you know your migraines are triggered after long mission briefings where you strain to look at the screen and through various floor plans
since they're unavoidable, ghost knows what to do when you exit the room and tell him you have a migraine
plays 20 questions with you and will ask if you tried everything
did you drink enough water? yes, you know me. took your paracetamol today? yeah tried that. what about your rizatriptan? you saw me take that before the briefing.
he'll sigh before offering you some other methods
"just follow me" he responds and you walk with him back to your quarters
he leaves the light off before returning from the bathroom with a cold, damp towel
before you can ask, he sits on the bed and motions for you to sit in between his legs
you compile and once you're comfortable, he places the cold compress over your eyes
despite the initial shock, it actually worked quite well and you swear you can fall asleep like this
ghost swears he heard you snoring but you deny it
now whenever you have a long briefing, you will follow the same routine and ghost gets to enjoy some quiet alone time with you
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wolfjackle-creates · 10 months ago
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Answer My Call Chapter 3 part 1
Happy WIP Wednesday! Answer My Call won by all one one vote last week. I was a bit nervous since I'm starting a new POV and I wasn't sure if I wanted to write from Tucker's POV or Tim's, but I settled on Tucker because it would let me dive into the action a bit sooner.
Story Summary: Danny's missing. The GIW have taken over Amity. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are under constant surveillance and have been scattered across the country.
When Jazz's messages to Danny go to the wrong number, Red Hood decides to step in.
First, Previous
Word Count: 1.6k
-----
Tucker was alone in his dorm room working on homework. His desk was in the corner in a way that meant his computer screen faced the wall. It meant he had barely three feet of space to sit in, but after everything that had happened, he couldn’t let anyone sneak up behind him to spy on his work.
His roommate hated him for it because it took up so much extra space in their small room, but he was never around anyway, so Tucker didn’t really care what he thought.
He jumped when a loud knocking sounded on his door.
“Coming!” he called out as he took the time to save everything he had open and close all programs. He slammed it shut and squeezed out of his chair, half running to the door. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. Tyler isn’t here right now, I think he said something about spending time with Liz?”
Then he actually looked at the people at his door. The one was a broad boy wearing a spiked leather jacket over jeans. The other had a bulky sweatshirt on and a baseball cap. His face was shadowed as he was looking down at a tablet, typing away.
The bigger one was grinning at him. “You’re Tucker, right? We’re here to see you, not Tyler.”
Tucker blinked at them. “Why?” he asked, confused. People had given up on being friendly with him weeks ago.
The boy with the tablet huffed. “We’re here to invite you to our club.”
Tucker looked between them in confusion. “What?”
Tablet guy still didn’t look up. “We heard you like ghosts. We’re the officers of the student horror club and wanted to offer you a spot. Mind letting us in so we can tell you about it?”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not interested in joining any clubs right now. Thanks, but no thanks.” He went to shut the door, but leather jacket stuck out his foot, keeping it from shutting.
“Just hear us out. We think you’d be perfect for it as an expert on ghosts.”
Tucker clenched his fists to hide their shaking. What did they know? Who sent them? He glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tablet boy raised his head slightly, revealing a domino mask covering his eyes. He grinned, more a baring of teeth than anything. In a tone just loud enough to be heard, he said, “One of my associates is currently in Boston. I decided to come here instead.” In a normal ton he added, “Let me tell you about the horror club.”
Tucker’s mouth fell open. How? Boston? What had Jazz done? His eyes flitted down the hallway. But they were blocking his path and he wouldn’t be able to get past them. Dumbly, he stepped back, opening the door further.
Leather jacket grinned at him. “Thanks, dude,” he said.
Behind them, Tucker shut the door. His hand fell to his pocket where a lipstick laser was hidden.
Tablet boy was already pulling the blinds down over the window. When done, he handed his tablet to Tucker. It was open to a message that said: “We’re on your side. Turn off your devices. I’m going to set off a EMP and signal jammer.”
Tucker nodded and handed the tablet back.
Leather Jacket cleared his throat. “So, with the horror club, we meet once a week…”
Tucker only half-listened to his spiel. He used his phone to send a coded warning to Dani before turning it off. Then he went through his belongings and did the same to every laptop, PDA, tablet, and gaming system. If he turned on a ghostly recording device hidden inside an action figure, however, no one would know.
As soon as he was done, he nodded to Tablet Guy who pulled out a black cube from his backpack and pressed a button. The he pulled out another device and turned that on as well.
“That’s enough, Kon,” he said, pulling off his cap.
Leather Jacket—Kon?—grinned. “What, you don’t want to hear about my favorite horror movie, Rob?”
“I introduced you to your favorite horror movie. I know it as well as you do.”
Kon just laughed. Then he unzipped his jacket, revealing a blue outfit with Superman’s “S” on it.
“Holy shit,” breathed Tucker. What had Jazz done?
Tablet guy followed, pulling off his cap and removing his hoodie, revealing a red costume with a gold bird medallion in the center of his chest. “Nice to meet you, Tucker. I’m Red Robin, and this is Superboy. I’ve got some questions for you.”
Tucker’s eyes jumped between the two. “Holy shit,” he repeated.
Superboy laughed. “Didn’t expect to see us?”
Tucker could only shake his head. “You said Boston?” he asked.
“Red Hood is with Jazz as we speak. She asked for our help in rescuing Danny. We agreed.”
Tucker tensed. He was lying. They’d talked about reaching out to the Justice League dozens of times, but had decided they couldn’t be trusted. Jazz wouldn’t have gone to them. He reached into his pocked and pulled out the lipstick.
Both heroes tensed, though their wariness turned to confusion when they saw he only had a small lipstick tube.
Good, let them underestimate him. “Jazz wouldn’t go to the Justice League. We agreed it wasn’t safe. Why are you really here?”
Red Robin grinned at him and held up his hands. “All right, you’re right. I simplified for time’s sake. Jazz has been sending messages to a phone number she thought belonged to her brother Danny. But really, they were going to Red Hood. He’d been getting them for ages now, but was…out of town. As soon as he got back, he began looking into Amity and the GIW. When he couldn’t find anything, he brought me in on the case. When that still didn’t work, we called Jazz back. She decided to take a chance on us since Red Hood doesn’t work with the government. And, honestly, I’ve done quite a bit outside the law, too, even if I’m not as public about it.”
Tucker’s grip on the lipstick tightened and he stuck his nail under the cap, ready to flick it off at a moment’s notice. “Prove it.”
Red Robin pulled up his tablet again and tapped a few places. An audio recording started to play.
Tucker stopped breathing when he recognized Jazz’s voice. He closed his eyes and just listened. When he heard her demand a picture and the pose she asked for, he huffed out a laugh.
The recording ended and he slid the lipstick back into his pocket and wiped at his eyes.
“Okay, I believe you. What’s the plan?”
“Right now we want to make sure you, Jazz, and Sam are safe and find out as much information as we can.”
Tucker nodded. “I’m not as closely watched as Jazz. The school keeps close track of us students and the Guys in White rely on their records. Though they do have an agent stationed in admin who checks up on me at least once a week. I don’t keep my most sensitive belongings in this dorm as it’s searched every other week.”
Red Robin grinned at him. It sent shivers down Tucker’s back. “Does that mean your real stuff is kept somewhere else?”
Tucker smirked. “Of course. Cover yourselves back up; we need to go.”
Red Robin did something with his jammer and EMP and then began talking excitedly about the horror club again. “So glad you’ve agreed to come to our next meeting, Tucker! We’ve been trying to build the club.”
Superboy winked at him. “What do you say we get to know each other a bit before then? Want to come play video games with us?”
Tucker bit his lip and looked towards his desk and laptop as if he were undecided. “I should get back to my homework…”
“Oh, come on, it’ll still be there tomorrow,” said Red Robin. “Let’s go.” He looked back down at his tablet and headed towards the door, grabbing Tucker’s hand as he did.
Tucker looked over his shoulder one last time, but let himself be pulled along. They kept conversation light as they exited the building. Red Robin was an expert at angling his baseball cap to hide his masked face from every camera they passed.
Would he be willing to teach Tucker how to do that?
Once outside, Tucker took the lead. One of the first things he’d done after he’d been enrolled was memorize blueprints for every building on campus. On top of that, he’d made himself a good dozen different IDs. Three of those were copies of other students’. Those students he kept close track of to make sure their records didn’t show them in two places at once. Other ones belonged to various faculty and staff members. But his pride and joy was the one that belonged to Gabriel Carter. Gabriel was a janitor at the Academy and so could access any building. Gabriel also didn’t exist.
It was Gabriel’s ID that got them access to the basement level of one of the buildings. Hidden deep in the building was a set of rooms currently not in use. And in one of those rooms was a closet.
Tucker had built the locks on the door himself and, even having all the keys and codes, it took five minutes to get in.
He smirked when Red Robin himself let out a gasp of surprise at his set up.
-----
Hope you enjoyed!
Now, how did Kon get involved? Easy. Tim used the zeta tube from the cave to Titans Tower. Kon happened to be there. When Tim said he was working a case with Red Hood, the guy who tried to kill him once, Kon insisted on coming along. I debated having other members of the Young Justice, but I'm actually trying to keep character counts down for this one, so...
Check out the subscription post if you want a notification when I update!
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 1 year ago
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Sanzu Haruchiyou - "Another Parody of an Office Romance"
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In which Bonten's number two gets high in an elevator with his coworker while he's still at work. Or; In which a very high Sanzu Haruchiyo finally asks the cute guy he's been into for a while out to dinner.
Reader is Bonten's IT guy, Reader is NOT an executive but is just as important as Kokonoi.
Warning -> Drug use
                                                                                                   
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"Aaah~"
Bonten's number two vocalizes as he drops an unidentified pill onto his awaiting toungue, swallowing it dry without any thought.
He had just gotten done dealing with another traitor and was currently in the elevator, making his way back up to his office. The elevator dings after about ten minutes, pausing on the sixthth floor, the doors opening to reveal Bonten's Technology Expert who's eyes stayed glued on the tablet in his hand as he walks into the elevator. Sanzu's eyes drift to the shorter man beside him as he blindly reaching across him towards the numbered floor buttons.
"Heeey [Name]~, Jus' lemme do it. 'm closer y'know."
The pinkette slurs as he gently grabs the shorter's wrist, pupils dilating as the drugs kick in. He mumbles a question about which floor while dazedly playing with the h/c-ette's fingers.
"Twelve. You're high again, aren't you?—"
[Name] asks curtly, removing his hand from Sanzu's grasp and pulls on the pinkette's ear right after. He looks up from his tablet and towards Sanzu before giving one last harsh tug to his ear and letting it go, getting a whine from his victim.
"—Weren't you told not to get high at work? Heh. What a rebel."
[] teases, playfully poking the pinkette's chest as Sanzu pushes in the button asked of him.
The taller turns his head to look back at shorter who's gaze migrated back to the tablet in his hands. The pinkette was slightly irritated at how short their interaction was; after all it's not everyday the two cross paths like this.
Sanzu had always liked [Name] alot more than the other people he worked more closely with. Maybe it was because they see each other all that often and whenever they did see each other [Name] and him got along really well, they had even helped him when he was really high. He couldn't really remember much from that on instance, though. It certainly helped that he was pretty cute in Sanzu's opinion. Definitely not Bonten's leftovers.
Recently, he had been trying to think of away to get to know h/c-ette better or, really, to take him out on a date. It was weird for the drug addict to take such a strong liking to someone in the first place but he couldn't help himself after a while.
"You still there, Sanzu?"
The saccharine voice of [Name] breaks him from his train of thoughts but also brings a dust of pink to his cheeks.
He tries to fix his gaze on the h/c-ette through his warping vision; the cold silver of the elevator's interior swirling together with colors of the man before him. He stares off into space, unable to formulate a coherent thought to put into words.
These are a lot stronger than he remembered them to be. What did he take again? Wait- where is he, anyway?
Sanzu abruptly slumps forward into [Name]'s back, his face buried into his shoulder as he wraps his arms around their waist. He pulls the shorter tightly against him; putting quite a bit of weight on him, almost like he's using him like some sort of crutch.
"[Name].— "
The pinkette whines in his captives ear; his hold on them tightening even further.
"—Where are we? Let's go back to the elevator... then let's go get sushi and gyoza together... 'm hungry."
[Name] lets out a confused smile and raises his hand carefully and slowly, before softly placing it atop the Bonten number two's head. He gently pets the taller's head, cooing softly at him as he runs his fingers through his pink lochs.
"We're already in the elevator, Sanzu. We can get you some food, I promise. I just need my things from my office, then we can go, okay?"
[Name] cood, gently scratching Sanzu's scalp with his blunt fingernails, causing the man behind him to snuggle even deeper into him if possible.
Ding.
The elevator opens to the twelfth floor, revealing a short hallway leading to a door with a name plate on the righthand side. [Surname] [Name].
The h/c-ette walks forward, Sanzu following as he's unwilling to let go. Opening his office door; [Name] goes straight to his desk to discard his tablet and gather his personal items.
"Now food?"
The pinkette asks quietly, his words coming out as more of a whiny hum than anything intelligible.
The shorter chuckles as he gently removes the taller's tight hold on him and takes his hand.
"Yes, Sanzu. Now we can get food."
                                                  
Fun fact! Gyoza is a Japanese dish consisting of wonton wrappers stuffed with finely minced pork, chopped mushrooms and shredded cabbage then fried in grease or oil in a pan.
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dragonnnerdd · 1 month ago
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Things I wish more people would talk about in Lego Monkie Kid
(Prepare for a rant longer than the bible /silly)
Spoilers for LMK seasons 2, 3 and 5 (also a brief mention of emotional abuse, and trauma)
Li Jing's terrible parenting
First of all, can we acknowledge that Nezha was CRYING when he had to go against his father??
LOOK AT HIM
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How are we supposed to forgive Li Jing so quickly when all he does is talk down to Nezha? And you could argue that Li Jing said he was always proud of Nezha, but all he did was treat him terribly, and as an expert on horrible parents (*cough* my dad *cough*), if they're in a situation where they have to say the right words, 👏 THEY 👏 MOST 👏 LIKELY 👏 WON'T 👏 MEAN IT 👏, especially if they don't change after that. Li Jing could possibly change his treatment of Nezha, that still doesn't forgive what emotional trauma he could've given Nezha to make him CRY AT THE THOUGHT OF GOING AGAINST HIS ORDERS. Now, you could say that Nezha just didn't want to betray his father, and that's what made him cry, but the evidence still points to Li Jing being a horrible father. And I might have a bias towards Nezha, since he is one of my favorite characters, but I know for a fact I'm not the only one who thinks at least one of these things, because I learned one of these things from a post I saw (I can't find it tho, but if anyone might know what I'm talking about, please tell me). Keep in mind I'm not in any way a psychiatric professional, but I do know about what emotional abuse can do to a person, and how the way a parent treats their child can really effect the child's mental health.
Summary: It is implied that Li Jing is a terrible father.
Did I really make a giant paragraph on how Li Jing sucks? Oh, girl (gender neutral), we ain't even done yet.
How Possessed Sun Wukong is actually really creepy, and how he is the perfect temporary antagonist
I hardly think the first part needs explaining. LOOK AT HIM
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Now, we all know how Wukong is, like, one of the most powerful guys in the world. Which makes it even more shocking when he is turned against the protagonist, whom he cares about like a son/brother/whatever you prefer (as long as it's not proship-y), by someone who is thought to be less powerful than him. Usually, Wukong makes a lot of noises while fighting, which is something really intimidating about the absence of any grunts or yells when he is possessed. I will use this scene for example
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And there is just something about the zero hesitation to attack anyone, up until the end of the special when he slowly walks up to MK, showing that he is fighting LBD's control. And, may I just add, that scene is REALLY CREEPY
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LOOK AT HIM
Anyway, as I said in the title of this rant, Wukong is a perfect temporary antagonist. He is extremely powerful (so powerful that he literally punched the lotus out of Nezha)
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He caused a crater in the ground from punching Nezha one time, and he took one step and caused a dent in the ground. The protagonist (MK) clearly doesn't want to fight him, and Wukong is immortal. He LITERALLY WALKED THE UNIVERSE-ENDING FLAME
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NOTHING CAN KILL HIM! (I apologize for the quality of some of these images, my tablet sucks)
This next thing ties into Wukong's possession--
LOOK AT THE PURE FEAR ON MACAQUE'S FACE WHEN HE IS FACE-TO-FACE WITH WUKONG
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That is the face of a guy who is reliving trauma. And let's not forget the scene in the Shadow Play episode where MK charges at Macaque, and the flashback to Wukong flying at him makes it very clear what this moment reminds him of. And in the Benched episode, he tries to convince Tang that his friends (and specifically Wukong) are better off without him, and I bet that's how Macaque felt when Wukong had killed him. I really hope that season 6 touches more on Macaque's trauma.
Now, onto my last topic (finally, I spent so long writing this overanalysis about Legos)
Wukong apologized to MK
If you remember, in season 3, Wukong actually apologized to MK. This is mainly something I'm just really happy about, because he finally admitted he made a mistake. Throughout the first two seasons, Wukong is known to be a silly guy, not taking things seriously, and not admitting his mistakes, so for him to actually apologize for something he did, and actually look guilty for it, is something that just really is nice. LOOK AT HIM (fourth "LOOK AT HIM" of this rant)
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He is genuinely sorry. Now if he could APOLOGIZE TO ALL THE OTHER HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE HE HAS MADE ANGRY, THAT'D BE GREAT
Wukong, I love you, you're my babygirl, but MACAQUE IS MY OTHER BABYGIRL, APOLOGIZE TO HIM
Now, finally, my rant is done (for now)
Did I really just make the longest post I've ever made to say what I wish more people would talk about, which turned into an in-depth analysis of Lego monkeys, and a Lego prince whose whole thing is pink flowers? Yes, yes I did. I have no shame
Now, to quote a great man...
MONKEY KING DRAGON NERD OUT!
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littleether21 · 1 year ago
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Miguel O'Hara Caregiver Headcanons!! (COMPLETELY SFW)
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Nervous man, very nervous because he's always a little afraid he's gonna screw up. But he's surprisingly good at being a CG!!
He actually sees it as a huge stress reliever to take care of someone like this. He doesn't have to worry about the multiverse when he's taking care of his little, he just has to take care of them.
He has always had that protective/paternal instinct. He is basically like a cat to his little--he will come along and pick them up by the scruff of their neck to get them out of trouble
Very good with toddler and older kiddo regressors, though he's not against littles who go younger than that
Most common nicknames for his littles are gonna be "bebita/o" or "Príncipe/Princessa"
A little more on the strict side. Has a few easy rules in place and he is very fair with any punishments he gives
Has a nice little routine for both him and his little. That way neither of them gets bored and they don't have to worry about unexpected things happening--it makes him feel better knowing what's ahead.
Carries a little care bag with him that has snacks, drinks, some fidget toys, and a kid's tablet whenever the two of them go out just in case.
Likes cooking with his little!! Lets them try the ingredients(when safe) and of course allows them to stir and mix stuff. He prefers handling any sharp things or the stove.
CHAMPION of naptimes. He knows how to make the atmosphere calming enough for his little one want to go down for a nap, he knows the best sensory videos to put on, and YES--this man will lie down too and cuddle until his little falls asleep. He's an expert. (He is also prone to napping with them because he's that good)
Has a swear jar in place. Not for his little--though he'd consider it if they slipped up often enough--but for him. Every time he cusses on accident around his little he has to put a dollar in. When the jar is full, the little gets to pick out a thing they want to buy
Really good at pretend play games!!! Give him a plot and he'll go right along with it
Loves watching his little get all excited about a movie or cartoon. Actually pays attention to what it is, what it's about, so that way he can understand what they're talking about
Doesn't always get the opportunity to spoil his little but when he does it's well thought out and personalized for them!
If ever his little starts slipping and he's not around Lyla will babysit a little bit until Miguel shows up :3 and she's very good at that!! (I'm gonna do a whole post about her tbh)
Miguel isn't perfect though, sometimes he lets his emotions get the better of him especially if it was a rough day at HQ. He might raise his voice or slam something, but it's never on purpose to scare his little.
If he does screw up, he feels terrible. Lyla sometimes takes over caring for them so Miguel can get himself in check, and then he'll very calmly get on the Little's level and apologize for how he acted. He never means to upset them in any way.
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kix-mm · 1 year ago
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Hey you asked for fear angst things to write. I’m not sure if you wanted an comment on that post or an ask but.
Maybe the tinies are the reason for fear. Like an average person maybe finds themselves in an tiny world. But like the tiny military gets ahold of them. And maybe experiments or uses them as a weapon. Cause sometimes tinys can be scary as heck too.
I imagined a few different scenarios with this prompt! Sorry if this story is a little short, I've been very busy recently, and I'm coming down with the flu!
“Wait- wait! There has to be a misunderstanding!” The alien called in their foreign language, nobody could understand their words, their pleas. Many tried to settle their foreign visitor with little to no success.
It was hard for either parties to trust each other, one was chained, hidden, and exposed to experiments such as sampling and strange studies, they were unable to rest easy and became delirious with time due to the constant trauma and lack of sleep.
The other was subjected to decades of brainwashing, distilling fear of the unknown into their minds ever since they were young. The size difference between the two only made the humans more wary… though over time more and more employees began to speak up. Stating that their experimentation was inhumane and unnecessary.
Eventually those who fought against the cruel treatment gained the upper hand, and all tests were shut down for good. And over time, experts managed to find a way to translate the aliens words, even managing to find a way to reassemble them into new sentences which they then used to communicate with the alien.
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It took a long time to gain their trust, but not many will ever be able to forget the fist day of making verbal contact with their visitor…
Professor J. August enters the room. Subject immediately notices their presence and attempts to make themselves as small as possible while pressing their body into a corner. J. August attempts contact.
[Hello? Can you understand me?] Mr August doesn’t attempt to get any closer to subject in hopes to make them more at ease.
Subject looks unmistakably surprised yet remains still, they do not try to communicate in return. Mr August attempts contact again.
[Hello? Can you understand what I’m saying?]
“Y-yes…”
[I’m Professor August, do not worry, I’m not here to cause any harm… none of us here want to hurt you]
There was a long uncomfortable silence before the subject positioned themselves more comfortably, they still seem very wary.
“You did hurt me… you hurt me a lot, I just want to go home, please, please let me go…”
Mr August, along with the majority of his employees look defeated by the pleas… guilt fills the room in silence.
[I know, it was cruel to treat you like so, we promise to release you soon. It’s only right to set you free after all we had done to you. Please know that none of my current employees ever supported this poor treatment.]
The subject aggressively leans forward, the chains tug on their limbs.
“I want to go home! I don’t want your pity! I want to go! Let me go!”
The professor takes a step back and flinches, hastily typing on their tablet before giving up and attempting direct communication in the language.
“You will go home! You will! I promise you that! But please you have to settle down so you don’t scare the authorities into thinking you’re a threat.”
There was another sudden silence between the two. The subject now begins to cry due to their anxiety and high levels of stress. Doctors and scientists suspect that the alien is only a juvenile, around the ages of 12 to 16, treating like the suspected range of age has yielded positive results.
[I’m sorry for my sudden behavior, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I only want to help you and I… I panicked. I don’t want anyone to hurt you anymore.]
“… I didn’t mean to scare anyone… I thought I was the only one that was scared. I’m sorry…”
[it’s not your fault, but please try to stay as calm as possible okay? Then I promise you that everything will go well]
"And if it doesn't...?"
[... you have my word]
The subject doesn't seem too happy with the answer, and it retreats back into its corner.
From then forward, none other than professor August was permitted to communicate with the specimen. Their relationship never improved much despite his efforts to comfort and bond with the child. This never persuaded Professor August to prolong the beings' stay. At the end of that same year, the being was set free.
Unfortunately for earth, it's reputation from then on was permanently tarnished, for not only holding a young child hostage but also torturing it. To this day, every other species has deemed this planet unnegotiable due to their false promises and brutal treatment to their own species and those of any other...
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amevinil239 · 1 month ago
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A story of my experience reading sex on the internet and how it is being repeated.
My fanfic reading years started when I got a tablet in 5th grade. I discovered FanFiction.Net and Wattpad at the same time. My first fandom was My little Pony.
I never asked my parents "where do babies come from?" because the exaggerated cartoon response of "the stork brings them" seemed like a silly excuse when clearly my mom was pregnant with my sister and she came out of her. End of story.
So at a time in my life where, I don't think I even knew the word sex, and on a website that (by divine luck I no longer own) I never found anything suggestive, until I did.
A reading of 2k words I think, without knowing what an erection was, a condom or what places were being referred to where they were kissing. Heterosexual and vanilla.
Not long after I clicked on a video that was a narration of a fanfic voiced by Loquendo. There was sex at the end, lesbian sex. I still had no idea what was going on, all I understood on both occasions was that they were in love and that was enough for my 11 year old self. (I was more busy freaking out because I had just discovered Junjou Romantica and pony yuri and the gay world was opening up to me)
Long story short, little by little I have gotten rid of the shame (that shame you get with your crush, blushing and laughing stupidly) of everything that people might come up with. And fortunately I have gained a little back, now I have standards.
Now, a decade later, I'm an expert on gay fanfic cliches and tropes, I occasionally read straight works (we're still talking about Smut) but now that I've dived headfirst into the Wicked fandom I've realized something.
Even though almost all the fanfic I read is gay, it's gay Yaoi, I don't have almost any Yuri.
And I realized this because in the first Gelphie smut fanfic I opened, I felt those butterflies of shame and anxiety because I don't know how lesbian porn is written, much less porn with feelings. (Everyone knows that that and pornhub are not the same thing)
So here I am again, at 20 years old, feeling 11. Wish me luck, here I come. 🤭🤭
Update: I just realized I have no idea how AOB works with lesbians, and i just found material calling my name 😳🫣
Update-update: Nevermind, It wasn't a good fic 😮‍💨, I know my non-kinky very well. No kinky, no horny, no enjoyment 😔
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tgmsunmontue · 11 months ago
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Jake's Cakes
Hangster AU MeetCute. 2k. (Teen for swearing but more General). Complete. Iceman has tasked Bradley with organising Maverick's 60th birthday cake. This goes as planned until Mav decides to be a gremlin.
                He’s filled in an online form and gotten confirmation that they can make a cake for his time frame, and he’s not sure when ordering some baked goods required such a procedure. He’s pretty sure his mom always just bought his cakes from the grocery store. But it’s Mav’s sixtieth, his first significant birthday since they started patching their broken relationship a few years ago. Ice has asked him to organize a cake, enough for a hundred people, and okay, that seems extravagant but Ice is the one planning the party and he feels like he’s in his bad books, so he’ll do as Ice asks.
                There’s a bell attached to the door and it jingles as he pushes it open and he looks around the store called Jake’s Cakes. It’s crisp and clean, sparkling glass display cabinet showing a selection of carefully decorated cupcakes, some cookies and slices, all looking delicious, which is what the reviews had said, and he hopes like hell they were real ones. He doesn’t want to screw this up.
                “Hi, can I help you?”
                “Hi, I have an appointment?”
                “Bradley?”
                “Yeah, that’s me.”
                “Great. I’ll let Jake know you’re here. He won’t be very far away. We have an album if you’d like to look at pictures and get some ideas.”
                He expects an actual physical album, but instead it’s a tablet and he can flip through the pictures with a swipe of his finger and he feels more confident with his choice of bakery. There’re lots of photos and also photos and even short video of the cakes in-progress, and it’s pretty damned cool seeing the time and skill that goes into making and decorating, but also knowing that he’s chosen a place that takes care to show that to the customers as well.
                Then a guy is walking toward him, wearing chef whites that have a colorful trim, maybe a cupcake pattern? He’s taller, younger than Bradley expected, also a lot more male than he was expecting, which he realizes is incredibly sexist of him. He’s grinning, pulling off disposable gloves and holding his hand out to shake and Bradley takes it.
                “Hi. Bradley Bradshaw?”
                “Yeah, that’s me.”
                “Hi. I’m Jake. So, how can I help you?”
                “Uh, hi, I need to order a cake for a birthday party?”
                “Yeah, of course. It’s generally why most people make appointments with me. You have an idea on flavor and how many people you’re wanting to feed?”
                “Yeah, about one hundred people, and his favorite flavor is vanilla.”
                “Boyfriend?”
                Bradley pulls a face.
                “No. Godfather. It’s his 60th. But you can’t refer to his age on the cake, he’ll kill me and they won’t find my body.”
                The guy lets his eyes sweep down the length of Bradley’s body and then back up and he feels himself flush. He’s not used to guys checking him out so blatantly. The Navy might have moved a little with the times, but that is not something he’s ever encountered outside of a nightclub.
                “That would be a shame.”
                “Uh.”
                “Back to the cake… What were you thinking in terms of decorations and frosting? Any hard no’s or flavor profiles?”
                “He likes lemon. He’s pretty boring when it comes to cake flavors actually,” Bradley realizes, and it actually makes a nice change to have something that is just simple when it comes to Mav. Not the complicated mess that has been their relationship in the past.
                “We can afford to have a few flavors if we’re feeding one hundred. Maybe a classic chocolate mudcake for those that don’t like vanilla?”
                “Yeah, sure. You’re the expert.”
                “So, what’s he into? Do we have a theme for the party or something I can use to guide me for decorating?”
                “Uh, there isn’t a theme I don’t think. Let me check. He’s a naval aviator.”
                “Does it run in the family?”
                “What?”
                “Being a naval aviator?”
                Bradley shrugs.
                “Yeah, I guess it does.”
                “Okay, so long serving naval aviator and obviously proud of it. Does he have a call sign?”
                “Yeah. Maverick.”
                “Okay. that’s a cool callsign, I was hoping for something a bit goofy, like Possum or something.”
                “Sorry to disappoint?”
                “Oh, there is nothing disappointing about you…”
                Bradley flushes again, not sure how to flirt back in the face of such brazen interest. He’s used to far more subtle approaches, but he doesn’t want to make the guy think he’s not interested.
                “He fixes up motorbikes, and planes. His favorites are a P51 Mustang plane and a Kawasaki-Ninja bike… he loves flying. A lot. More than anything else probably.”
                “Is it the sky or the speed?”
                “Uh, the speed probably. He’s a bit of a daredevil.”
                “Okay. I’ve got some ideas. You want me to sketch them up and send them to you, or do you trust me?”
                “Just tell me what you’re thinking…” Jake just raises an eyebrow at him, and Jesus fuck, does the man never stop flirting? “About the cake?”
                Jake grins, his eyes crinkling like he knows he’s flustering him and he’s taking a lot of pleasure in it.
                “Three tier on a large board, using fondant because then I can paint it. One half of the board is a road in the desert, with the bike, the other half of the board an ocean with a carrier and then the cake itself painted like the sky but have a whole bunch of silhouettes of planes and then a model of the P51 at the top. That’s what I’m thinking. For the cake.”
                “Sounds good,” Bradley manages to croak out.
…            …            …
                After paying the deposit and organizing pickup for a couple of weeks’ time he somehow leaves without a date, or even the guys number; he’s never felt so mentally undressed while remaining fully clothed. Maybe it was just flirting and he’s that out of practice.
…            …            …
                Pete looks at the cake and it’s gorgeous, clearly made with him in mind and he’s glad he’s managed to see it without an audience, because he feels a little emotional looking at it. He definitely wants to try it, even though it’s one of those pieces of almost art which some people feel bad about cutting up. He doesn’t, cake is made to be eaten. He pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures, then decides a video is necessary to capture the proper amount of details, the little white tips on the waves as the carrier breaks through the water, the planes in the sky, and he can identify the different types and he’s really impressed.
                It is making him quite hungry though, but he can’t cut a slice, Tom and Bradley would both kill him and be each other’s alibi… He spies a little box, sealed with the sticker of what must be the bakery and his eyes light up, opening it easily. He’d expected maybe a slice of cake, instead there’s three cookies… They’re heart shaped, like the conversation heart candy you get around Valentine’s Day. Except he knows Tom had asked Bradley to organize the cake.
                Call me.
                Hot stuff.
                And there, finally, on the last cookie is a phone number and Pete laughs, because clearly Bradley made an impression himself. He quickly snaps a picture of all of them and sends them to Tom along with the message ‘why do you not get me cookies like this?’ because these are giving him the ability to wind up both Bradley and Tom at the same time, which is a rare and unusual treat. Just like these cookies.
                He takes the Hot stuff biscuit and takes a bite, and it’s tangy with lemon, not sickly-sweet like he was expecting and he finishes it off, ponders whether they’re all the same flavor. Taking another photo to make sure he has the number in full he reaches for the Call me cookie and mmm, yeah, raspberry. He deliberately breaks a few crumbs off and scatters them in the box, eyes the last cookie and decides that Bradley’s wrath is worth it. If he ends up dating the baker then he’ll have an endless supply of cookies. The cookie with the phone number on it is passionfruit flavored and he’s impressed that none of them have crossed the line into sickly sweet. He could have a fourth one, if there was one. Instead he looks at the photos he’s taken, takes another of the empty box with nothing but crumbs. He then sends two pictures, captioned with Before and After… making sure the number is not completely visible. Cookies were delicious. Thanks. Think the bakery person wants to ask you out.
…            …            …
                Jake hasn’t read a person that wrong in a while, the message he’d received yesterday a little surprising. Normally when he flirts with people who are in a relationship they’re quick to let him know, rather than act adorably flustered and like they’ve never been flirted with before. He’d been pretty sure Bradley had been into him, but he shrugs, plenty of other fish in the sea and birds in the sky. He hears the bell ring from the door opening and heads out, the only one not yet elbow deep in baking or decorating, although when he sees Bradley standing at the counter he wants to do an abrupt one-eighty.
                “Morning. How can I help? Was everything okay with the cake?” Jake asks, smoothly professional.
                “Yeah, it was great. It looked amazing and tasted great. Uh. Thanks. I was just wondering…”
                Jake frowns, wonders if the guy is going to ask him out.
                “I was just wondering if you’d be interested in a date?”
                “Your husband let me know in no uncertain terms that you are not available.”
                “What?”
                “What?”
                “I’m not married.”
                “Well, this guy seems to think the opposite,” Jake says, pulling up the message from the number, sliding his phone across the counter, offering it to Bradley to pick it up.
…            …            …
>>The person you gave those cookies to is happily married. While I agree that he is hot stuff, he will not be calling you, he’s mine.
                Bradley frowns, looks at the number and doesn’t immediately recognize it but he’s got an inkling… He pulls out his own phone, starts typing in the number and within five digits it’s showing Ice’s contact information.
                Of fucking course.
                He groans.
                “Find your husband?”
                “Not my husband. My godfather’s husband. My Uncle Ice,” Bradley says, slides both phones back across to Jake to show the matching number. “Mav took the cookies, ate them and sent me a message with a photo of the crumbs. And a before photo, but he didn’t show your whole number, but I, uh, got the message.”
                “Oh…” Jake’s grin is slow, but it’s there and it warms Bradley from inside-out.
                “Ice obviously got a photo with your whole number… And I didn’t need your number, I know where you work.”
                “Yeah, but I was asking you out.”
                “And I’m here to say yes. Well, assuming you’re not scared off by my apparently very possessive Uncle, who I swear won’t have a problem with you as long as you’re not trying to actually ask Mav out, then… yeah. Let’s go out.”
                “I finish at three.”
                “Three. See you then.”
                “Look forward to it.”
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whirligig-girl · 5 months ago
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I recently received a copy of the Cerritos Crew Handbook. This was obviously my favorite page, so here's a high resolution digital scan. (just kidding)
Image ID: A starfleet PADD tablet with a page showing basic facts about Mellanoid Slime Worms in the style of the species bio pages in the Star Trek: Lower Decks: Crew Handbook. It is heavily annotated with commentary from Mariner, Boimler, Tendi, and Eaurp Guz.
Transcript below cut:
NAME: Mellanoid Slime Worm provisional Federation member. Boimler: I've brought on our Mellanoid officer, Ensign Eaurp Guz, and our resident expert on Mellanoid biology, D'vana Tendi. Guz: full Federation member now, actually.
GREETING: Mellanoid Slime Worms react poorly to friendly insults. At first their righteous indignation might seem like a positive response, but be fair warned! You are not befriending them.
Boimler: Wait, who wrote this? Mariner: Looks like the uh, Zaldan who made first contact with them in the 30s?
TABOOS: Eating in public, uncovered skin. Abducting their children as pets. They do not take kindly to any kind of romantic advances. Guz: ... Tendi: ... Mariner: Girl. IMPORTANT BIOLOGICAL FACTS: Mellanoid Slime Worms are composed of a single amorphous cell which can shapeshift into any number of revolting forms, but which do seem to be willing to take on a bipedal appearance when dealing with aliens. Mellanoid Slimes have no sex, no gender, and reproduce asexually. Not much is known about Mellanoids. Their biology, evolution, and habitat are still a mystery.
Guz, responding to "revolting forms": Wait what? We've always been mostly humanoid! And nonhumanoid forms aren't revolting! They're beautiful! Some of my best friends have nonstandard features. Mariner: no sex? Sick burn. Guz, responding to "no gender": I am a woman. Mellanoids are assigned agender at birth but a growing movement is recognizing that some of us do experience gender. Tendi, responding to the whole section: Mellanoid Slime Worms are comprised mostly of visceral slime with a gelatin skeleton made of skeletal gelatin. Their nervous system is highly redundant and spread throughout the body, with slightly darker regions corresponding to regions of higher nerve density. All sensory cells can feel all senses, so they experience touch, taste, sight, sound, and other senses in their whole bodies, but form sensory organs to concentrate those senses. The biomolecular composition is. Mariner: ok Ada Lovelace, we don't need the footnote to be THAT big. CULTURE: The Mellanoid Slime Worms posses a highly repressed culture, lacking entertainment, interpersonal interactions, and with individuals living in even the richest and most technologically advanced nations on their planet being confined to abject poverty. Their technology is rudimentary, with steam propulsion still in common use on land, and their spaceflight manifests as small capsules incapable of even safely making the journey to the nearest gas giant without assistance. Due to their revolting appearance and archaic technology, they are not worthy of further consideration.
Guz: We don't live in poverty! We just have movie theaters instead of televisions, public kitchens instead of restaurants and dining rooms, libraries instead of personal computers. And Advanced Steam locomotives are cool, ok! They were cheaper to run than diesel engines for many years. Guz: Don't even get me STARTED on the rockets of the time. Oh globs, the things we were able to do with only chemical rockets back in the 30s and 40s! Probe missions to Glerbuh and Rabbit, crewed missions to Omen and Oldsky... and that's before the latest warp drive prototypes. When I was in the astronaut corps, they were working on a warp-2 drive! And that's transwarp-2, so that's like 26% faster than the NX-Beta. Mellanoids pride ourselves in our space exploration, which is why even now we're in the Federation we still have our own space program.
Boimler: Huh. That's it? I thought there'd be more, you know, like, something about the history, maybe native animals, why the taboos are the way they are. But it's just something about steam trains and rocket ships? Guz: No actually I think they pretty much hit the stem bolt on the autoseal. I can't think of a reason a new recruit would need to know more about my species. Besides, Tendi's medical research is pretty thorough. Mariner: Hey I just tried to access the research. Why is it flagged as "Age-Locked"? What kind of "research" are you two doing anyway? Guz: Ohhhh... oh no. Tendi: Ok we can stop talking about this now! Boimler: Eh it's probably fine. I mean, why would a minor using a starfleet database need to know critical biological details about a mellanoid slime worm? What, is some, I dunno, Brikar kid gonna stroll up to Starfleet with a slime worm baby and not know how to take care of it? Mariner: Hah! A big stony alien kid taking care of a gooey lil worm? Like that'll ever happen.
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aboutdragons · 3 months ago
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Marq's Guide to [ttad's] Valyrian Fourteen
DISCLAIMER START
This depiction of the Fourteen Flames of Valyria has been tailored exclusively for my fanfiction, the thing about dragons, and it represents them as they appear in that story as characters with speaking roles. It is by no mean a canonical or a mainstream version of them.
This is a work of fiction. The clothing of the characters is vaguely inspired by a wide array of traditional fashions of East Asia Continent, but it is not them, nor meant to represent them. Creative liberties have been taken, and inaccuracies and embellishments will follow. I’m no expert, no historical reconstructor, just a person with a tablet and an idea; I saw pretty things and became inspired by them, and that is as far as it goes.
Additionally; these are fictional lizard people. They're not even mammals, and they're in no way supposed to represent any human ethnic group.
A Song of Ice and Fire and all associated published works, including the concept of the Valyrian Pantheon, belong to GRRM.
The concept of the appearances of the Valyrian Pantheon showcased below belongs to me. Nobody but me is allowed to use it without permission. 
Contains spoilers for the thing about dragons and its worldbuilding.
(You may ask for permission to use my version of them if it compels you.)
(You may not use or repost my art without explicit permission.)
DISCLAIMER END
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[a little legend, full arts, and domains under the cut]
They Of Many Names
The Fourteen Blasphemers
Devourers of Divinity
Ancient Relics of a Bygone Era
Once upon a time, long long ago when the lands were one and mountains were seas and seas were mountains, there lived a race of people under the protective purview of their serpent-god so massive and unfathomable it could wrap twice around the world and bite its own tail. The people were wise and prosperous in their cities of shining black stone, commanding magic and science with equal skill in equal measure.
And then a star fell, and shattered killing their serpent-god and its divine body fell from the sky onto the cities of the black stone along the shattered star. The catastrophic impact killed millions; the aftermath killed more as the sun was blacked out by the smoke and ash and the vegetation and animals and people began their great dying.
And then the star awoke, shattered but alive and wicked and incomprehensible, and its only goal was to consume all semblance of life.
The people, desperate and dying and acutely aware of the impending totality of their doom, turned to the gravest heresy, the foulest blasphemy in one last bid of survival; they imbibed the fallen flesh of their serpent-god, took what power festered in its divine corpse.
It changed them.
Most who committed this sin died; few lived, and soon they were the very last of their kind. Dozens, of what was once billions, extinct in a blink.
And they fought that star that fell, shattered by their serpent-god into a thousand-and-one shards, and made mortal with it. And they fell, but so did it, until only the mightiest on each side were left. And the shattered star, that wicked, hungry interloper--it ran. And it burrowed deep, deep into the ground, underneath the mountains and seas where none could reach. And there it slumbered, awaiting its chance to once more wake and mindlessly devour.
There were fourteen of them left, those sinners. Battered and lost and all alone, their species extinct, their god dead, their world gone. And they, too, slumbered and recovered for years and centuries and millennia and eons; and the continents shifted, and land recovered, and new life grew like the mountains around them, and the world they knew was truly forever gone.
And in time they were found, by accident or providence, and the sinners became gods, their past ignored and forgotten in favour of worship of their heretical power.
None remember the scalefolk anymore. Gone is their wisdom and the world could never recover its magic enough to match their mundane use of it. Their black cities lost under mountains and in the darkest crevices of the world, the great lizards they tamed and commanded gone with them.
There’s a new people now. They inherited this planet bereft of it’s protector serpent-god and most its magic, and all of its impending doom. But they’re hardy, determined folk, and the ancient relics of a long-forgotten sin never quite left. They lay in wait, dormant yet aware, gathering power for the one final hunt.
And then they, too, will go, for even gods die. For the sake of these new people and their future, marred by the catastrophe of the past who grew bereft of divine protection, orphaned in the vastness of space, yet hardy enough to rekindle the magicks most ancient and make them their own.
Balerion
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God of Death
Also: Souls, Afterlife, Decay, Funerary Rites
Younger brother of Vhagar, older brother of Morghul, godson of Meleys. A somber yet gentle heart hides under his corpselike visage, for he is Death; foe to some, friend to others, yet inevitable to all.
Vhagar
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Goddess of War
Also: Violence, Conquest, Tactics, Peace, Martial Arts
Older sister of Balerion and Morghul, goddaughter of Meleys, wife of Vermithor. The mightiest of gods, unyielding and stubborn, slow to anger and wise in the face of it.
Morghul
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God of Darkness
Also: Shadows, Secrecy, Eclipse, Politics, Assassins
Younger brother to Vhagar and Balerion, he who treads in shadows and trades in whispers. Forever content to remain overlooked as he continues trading in secrets and conspiracies.
Meleys
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Goddess of Blood
Also: Childbirth, Pregnancy, Motherhood, Life, Magic
Godmother of Vhagar, Balerion, and Morghul, the queen of the gods; the witch of blood, the mother of all. It's easy to forget the visceral horror of her power in the face of her nurturing kindness.
Vermithor
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God of Prosperity
Also: Earth, Precious Gems and Metals, Commerce, Trade, Eloquence
Husband of Vhagar, lover of luxuries, trader of goods. With a silver tongue and a golden touch he is said to bring prosperity to anyone he bestows the tiniest morsel of attention on.
Vermax
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God of Justice
Also: Law, Order, Wisdom, Oaths
Both fluid and inflexible, they are a god of contradictions. Of justice without law and wisdom without oaths; for they understand the order of things, that one may make the other, but never in reverse.
Arrax
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God of Knowledge
Also: Medicine, Diseases, Poisons, Learning
The Pale Serpent bereft of the crown of horns of his kin, the last true scion of the serpent-god. He before whom no illness nor poison may retain its mystical secrecy.
Tyraxes
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Goddess of Flowers
Also: Spring, Nature, Growth, Rebirth, Chaos, Visions, Madness
The willing sacrifice, imbibing a piece of the Waytree and paying with her very mind for a chance of tomorrow; and though the fairest flower became corrupted, her wish was nonetheless granted.
Tessarion
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God of the Sky
Also: Art, Music, Wind, Birds, Freedom, Revolution
A creature of freedom of beauty, both flighty and incredibly steadfast in their convictions. A lover of all beauty, intolerant of oppression, an inspiring force for the deepest of desires.
Shrykos
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God of Journeys
Also: Doors, Keys, Travels, Adventures, Transitions, Change
Change is necessary, stagnation, no matter how comfortable, brings doom. And they are willing to take any risk necessary to push the causality ever so slightly off its trajectory in hope of something better.
Meraxes
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Goddess of the Moon
Also: Tides, Seafoam, Fish Migrations
Older twin sister of Caraxes, wife of Syrax. The calm before the storm and the pragmatic face of the moon and sea both, who leads sailors forward with calm seas and the grace of her cold light.
Caraxes
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God of the Sea
Also: Salt, Reefs, Seastorms, Sealife
Younger twin brother of Meraxes, the storm after the calm, the violent unpredictability of the sea and its unbridled beauty. One thing is known; he shall not suffer any who'd limit him.
Syrax
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Goddess of the Sun
Also: Rituals, Festivities, Celebrations, Alcohol, Daytime
Wife of Meraxes. The warmth of the sun, the safety of the daylight, the joy of celebration, yet she is who brings the warning, and the holy reverence of all rites and bonds forged in flame.
Gaelithox
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God of Fire
Also: Heat, Volcanoes, Metallurgy, Forging, Smithing, Glass
The second mightiest of all gods; the dragonmaker who found a way to bestow the most ancient magicks of living fire and blood unto mortals by forging flesh and magic into living shape that became known as dragons.
Which one do you like the most? If you have any questions/thoughts don't hesitate to share them.
(I'll post it on other platforms soon enough)
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lixenn · 3 months ago
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OCtober 2024 day 2: new OC
World! Meet Blaze! Varia Assassin, explosive expert and local pyromaniac!
This guy is completely fucked in the head, totally bonkers. He's obessed with fire to the point where all safety meassures get thrown out of the window. If there's fire, he simply must touch it! No way around it, that's the rules, folks! His sun flames are the only reason why he hasn't been turned to ashes yet, his healing factor is off the charts, his only saving grace. Most of his stupid stunts only leave him with a burn scar as a souvenir, he's one lucky son of a bitch (not really his sun flames just get a lot of practice).
The idea for a pyromaniac OC has been stuck in my head for a while now but I actually decided on making one shortly after I released chapter 16 of the Guide. So yes, for anyone familiar with the story: He's the fucker that hugged people while on fire. He just wanted to spread the love :) Why are people running away? He doesn't mean any harm :)
However his proper design only came to me on *checks discord* 20th September, I roughly sketched him out during my holiday. I only shared a shitty photo of my tablet screen on my server though because no WiFi in that hut OTL
Anyways I have no clue if he's going to be plot relevant for the sequel but if there are any question about this nutjob, my inbox is always open 🫡
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