#pebble hart

[wickedjr89gaming]

Sandy, I think Andy might be trouble for you..

I don't know what Ida Juana did but congrats Ida!

[newsofthenight]

Dwayne Johnson Announces Presidential Bid, Taps Kevin Hart as Running Mate

There’s a political rumble that has left both the Democrats and Republicans stunned. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson has officially thrown his hat – or perhaps his iconic fanny pack – into the political arena, announcing his bid for the presidency. But what’s more surprising? His choice for vice president – none other than the his comedic co-star, Kevin Hart. In a social media video that quickly went…

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: I was asked by the lovely @tommysaxes to make part two to my other Henry Danger one shot, here it is.

I hope you enjoy!

Warning: may or may not be typos!

Pairing: Henry Hart x fem!reader

After what happened the other day, I had stayed locked and huddled up in my room. Dings that turned to vibrants after I silenced my phone.

Message after message. Call after call. I couldn’t hear it any longer.

Thoughts and ideas running and racing through my head.

‘Did I overreact??’

‘Should I respond to him? Visit him maybe?’

‘No! I had every right to react that way!’

‘Or was I..?’

All these thoughts kept bouncing against the inner lining of my head, until I heard a knock at the door. All my thoughts had calmed themselves, as I got up and opened the door a bit.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, sorry to bother, but you’ve been in here for a while. Do you wanna talk?” My mom offered.

“No, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” She asked and I nodded my head ‘yes,’ in confirmation. Getting the gist she told me that she’d be out running errands, and to call if need be.

After she left I closed and locked the door behind her and let out a breath, I didn’t know I was holding in.

I trudged up the stairs and was going to crawl into bed when I heard, something repeatedly hitting the window pane.

My brows furrow in confusion, I held my position and listened. Waiting to see if it would continue, and that it did. Like little pebbles hitting the glass almost.

After it wouldn’t stop I stood up and abruptly opened my window to see what it was, only for me to get hit in the forehead with a pebble.

“Ow!”

Jaspers face went wide, and shoved the pebbles into Charlotte’s hands. “That was Char!” Jasper exclaimed, as she gave him a look.

“No, it wasn’t!” She replied and they both started to bicker back and forth.

“Hey! Can you guys just stop? If that’s what you guys came here to do, then you wasted your time and mine.” I said, before pulling my head from out the window.

“Wait! Wait! We really need to talk to you.”

I huffed and sighed, “What about?”

“You weren’t returning our calls.” Jasper said.

“My phone is dead.” I said, and he proceeded to shake his head and call my phone. I purposely, hit the hang up button. “Hey!”

“My finger slipped. Is that all you had to say?”

“No! We really want you to know how sorry Henry is.” Charlotte said, and I shook my head in response, not wanting to hear her.

Yeah, Henry did forgot about our one year, it hurt. Bad. But I still love him, with every fiber of my being, and not talking to him or seeing everyday is hurting me. If not more than him even forgetting about the anniversary.

“Please, just.. Come to the Man-Cave. Only if you want to.”

“If she wants? We need her to come, or Henry will-” Char having enough hit his shoulder.

“What’s at the Man-Cave?” I asked. “Just stop by when you’re ready. It’ll all make sense later.” She said they finally left. I closed my window and turned around examining my entire room.

Without knowing what else to do I dialed my mom’s phone, and called her.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just.. I need your advice.”

Once I explained what happened to my mom, she helped me with deciding on what to do, and I was going to visit the Man-Cave. I took a shower and washed my face, wanting to look nice.

After changing, I started my walk to Junk N’ Stuff to see what they had in store for me at the Man-Cave.

I looked at the store to see that it had a closed sign on it, which surprised me cause it was really early in the day for it to close.

I walked into the store with confusion written all over my face, and let the door close behind me. I proceeded to walk to the back of the store and get into the elevator.

I closed my eyes tight and held onto the railing of the elevator trying not to fall on the ground like I did before.

Surprisingly the second time around on the elevator, I didn’t fall, but my knees did buckle a little, upon reaching the ground floor.

I’ll take that over brushed bones any day.

I stepped out of the elevator and looked around the lights were dimmed no one was in the Man Cave, it looked like.

“Hello? Hellllo?” I called out, wanting to see if anybody was home, but I sighed and huffed upon getting no reply back. I turned on my heel ready to leave.

“Wait!” Henry replied at the top of the stairs, before jogging down them.

“Henry, what is all this? What happened to the lights? Did Ray forget to pay the light bill?”

“No!” He replied before quickly adding, “Maybe.. Okay, wait. Please don’t leave, I have something to show you.”

“Henry..” I started, but he looked at me with pleading eyes and I couldn’t say ‘no,’ “Fine, I’ll stay.”

He smiled then told me to sit down at the round table, I listened and sat down, watching Henry take the seat in front of me.

He took a bell out of his pocket and rung it, and someone came out dressed up in suit and tie, that person being Jasper.

“Jasper? What are you doing?”

“I am to..uh.. Henry, what am I here for again?” He asked, in a hushed voice, but still loud enough for me to hear it.

“You’re our waiter, Jasper. Did you bring out any menus?”

“You didn’t give tell me that, Hen.” He admitted, and Henry started to get visibly nervous.

“Well, what do you suggest?” Henry asked and Jasper let out and ‘uh’ sound as he thought about it.

“Well there’s this place down the road with killer burgers, but there’s also this place with really good nachos and-”

“I’ll take it from here, Jasper.” Charolette said as she gently pushed Jasper again. “We don’t have menu’s but I can suggest that you have today’s special.”

“What’s the special?” I ask, wanting to play along, I was already there so, why not? It took her a bit but she replied with spaghetti tacos.

“Spaghetti tacos?” I ask, confused and she nodded her head. “That sounds good, but I’d like one of those steaks Henry’s always talking about.” I said, and Char looked over at Henry, they probably weren’t expecting me to ask for it.

“Perfect! We’ll take two.” He said and she nods, then leaves.

“Henry, can we please talk?”

“Not before the entertainment!” He said and rung the bell again and Schowz comes out in his clown outfit.

“Schowz?”

“I am not Schowz, I’m Pippy the Clown!” He exclaimed. “Want to see a magic trick?”

“Sure, why not?”

He took out a deck of cards and fanned it out, and told me to pick one. I took one looked at it and put it back in a random spot of the deck.

He put them back into the deck and took out a random card. “Is this your card?” I shook my head ‘no.’

“This one?” I shook my head again, and he kept trying to guess it, but Henry cleared his throat knowing he was never going to guess it correctly.

“How about a balloon animal, Pippy?” He asked, more annoyed than when Schowz started the act.

He nodded, tossing the deck of cards over his shoulder and took out the balloons. “What kind of animal do you want, little girl?”

“Not a little girl, but how about a dog?” He smiled and begins to make the animal, or tried to at least. He twisted, turned, and tried to form the balloon animal but ended up making something that didn’t quite resemble a dog.

A for effort though.

“Thank you, Pippy. I think we’ve seen enough.” He nods and honks his horn before leaving us alone.

“Henry, we really need to talk.

“Not after-” He started to ring the bell, but took his hand to stop him mid shake of the wrist.

“Henry! Stop, please.” He sighed and apologized.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I just wanted tonight to hopefully make up for what happened the other day.”

“I’m sorry too, for the way I acted and everything. Walking away and refusing to talk to you, it hurt not getting a good morning or good night text every day.” I said, he laughed and I smiled.

“I apologize for missing our one year, that was never my intention. I know we’ll never get it back, but I can promise you; every one after will be better than the last.” He stated, determination in his eyes.

“I have no doubt about that. I forgive you, Henry.” He smiled wide, as we stood up and hugged each other tight, till the point where we heard crying in the background.

It was Ray crying, nose running as he waved his little handkerchief around. “Bravo! Bravo!” I shook my head and laughed.

‘I don’t know how I survived, but I definitely did miss these guys..’

[damndamsy]

renegade | aemond targaryen x oc (part i)

When Aemma's deafening first cries pricked through the damp walls of a stormy morning in Dragonstone, nobody celebrated. Nobody was there to witness her birth but the wet nurses. Well, there was the young princess' seafaring father partially in his own revelry; striding across the floor with the babe in his arms, smiling so wide at his fordone wife, fresh out of her labours. You'd think the child was his own, the way he bounced the babe around and cooed at her in delight. Irregardless of the sallow shadow of silvery hair across the babe's head and her alarming brown eyes, Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone quelled her awaiting dread and stroked her first daughter's cheek. She brought the child close to her shivering lips and whispered in her ear: "My darling, Aemma."

Now you must understand why Princess Rhaenyra had rushed off to her birthplace with her newly betrothed in tow, and it is quite apt to assume that it was to douse the fire surrounding Aemma's birth. In no more than a month, King's Landing beckoned, and they answered. They answered with haste, bearing the 'evidence' of their alleged consummation. A testament of royal blood.

During Aemma's younger years in the Red Keep, she was constantly under the aegis of her doting mother. Aemma was to be the heir to the throne, but Her Grace never shared the certainty. That babe's eyes and olive skin shared the likeness to that of a certain Dornish Commander of the Queensguard. However it happened, Ser Criston Cole, Princess Rhaenyra's now turned most resentful of foes, was heard in a profound argument with the princess. It is claimed that they rowed over Aemma's paternal lineage; Ser Criston named her a 'vindictive whore' and her daughter a 'nameless nobody'.

That night, in the nursery of the Red Keep, the pregnant Princess of Dragonstone brushed her daughter's hair. Each stroke of the brush was careful and thoughtful, masking the shudder in her hands and the anxiety in her eyes.

"You're only mine," Rhaenyra vowed, kissing her hair. "No matter who you look like."

"I look like you, mummy," Aemma said.

"And that is enough."

Aemma was little, smaller than the other princes and princesses in the castle, and unlike the others, her dragon egg remained unhatched for the longest time until they deemed it futile to warm. The princess didn't stay disconsolate, she found herself another egg from Syrax's newest clutch, but the same fate followed. Perhaps that's why no one truly believed her to be Targaryen—what was countenance and complexion compared to the true blood of the dragon?

Instead, Aemma became proficient in wandering off, beyond the walls of the Red Keep, and toward the woods surrounding the Kingsroad. She often liked to collect pebbles by the beach, catch frogs near puddles, fashion a fishing rod out of stick and string, and sketch out oddities she would witness in her galavants. Vines, leaves, spiders, rabbit, hart; she seemed to make more friends outside the palace than within. She would steal maps from the Keep's archives and make off into her room, imprinting her own onto books using ink.

It was Ser Criston who caught the six-year-old princess red-handed as she attempted to slip away with her maps while her brothers trained in the courtyard. He shook her arm severely, nearly snapping Aemma's neck.

"Little cunt. I knew you would be the bane of me," he had hissed at her. Aemma let out a scared shriek, stumbling to keep up with the knight's fleet-footed steps back into the Keep.

"I beg of you, Ser Criston. I won't do it again," Aemma had wept to him. "Please, ser—"

"What is the meaning of this, Cole?" It was Ser Harwin Strong who had interfered with their hasty retreat. Using this as an upper hand, Aemma wrenched her arm out of Ser Criston's grip and bolted to Ser Harwin's side with tears in her eyes.

"It's alright, princess," Ser Harwin soothed her, lifting her up into his arms and cradling her close. "Let's get you to your mother."

"A perfect addition to your Strong brood," Cole remarked insidiously as Ser Harwin turned to leave.

Ser Harwin smirked. "Were it not for her Dornish charm."

This silenced the knight altogether. Since then, the young princess spoke of this incident to no one and kept clear of the menacing Ser Criston Cole. She did have a newfound admiration for Ser Harwin Strong.

Aemma settled in watching as her uncles and brothers grew up, nestling their eggs and nurturing their hatchlings, understanding High Valyrian to take to the skies, all the while making concessions with the direwolf pup Ser Laenor had gifted her on her sixth name day. A grey-backed runt, most comparable to her father's war-hardened dragon, Seasmoke. Hence, named Seasmoke. He had gone through many hardships to bring the pup within the castle walls.

"But this Seasmoke doesn't fly," Aemma murmured, scratching the wolf's ears.

Laenor ruffled her hair. "You and I both wish he did, my love."

She tilted her head at the animal that curled up on her father's lap. "Does he at least breathe fire?"

Laenor pushed out his lip in confusion. "Ser Qarl tells me that once he's fully grown, he can run faster than any horse you've ever seen. And he'll be almost as big as one, too."

She frowned. "How is that better than dragon-riding?"

"Until then, he has much love to offer instead," he pacified, laughing. "Won't that be nice? I hear this Seasmoke can fit beside your pillow. Guard you through the dusk like your own furry knight."

Aemma laughed with her father. "I suppose. I can share him with Aemond," she resolved, lifting her new companion into her arms. "He doesn't have a dragon either. He has it worse, you know. Aegon and Jace are so cruel to him in the dragonpits."

"That's a terrific idea." Laenor touched her nose. "Your prince would love the company, too."

Laenor wasn't surprised, those two had been joined at the hip for a few good years now. They were shields of the other, covering for each other's mischiefs around the Red Keep. While Rhaenyra kept a weather eye on Queen Alicent's second son, Laenor chalked up their relationship to innocent camaraderie. He couldn't stand seeing Aemma isolated—of course, Halaena was around her, but never really there—as Laenor himself had been subject to such hostility from his close kin occasionally.

As for Aemma, her nearest and dearest had become Aemond Targaryen. She was fiercely protective of him, walking about as his own living shadow. She didn't know if he felt that way about her, but Aemond secretly vowed he would take an arrow in his heart for her. It was these two lonesome, dragon-less riders against the world. And Aemma was satisfied with the state of things.

Together, they'd seek adventures of their own. Mischiefs, more like. The prince and princess were always up to no good. Aemma was always the silent instigator.

"Disgusting," Aemond would say when Aemma caught him a frog from a puddle in the forest. He had followed her out of pure curiosity, wondering where she was always disappearing off to.

"What if it's venomous?"

She pushed the wriggling frog under his nose and he fell back into some leaves in fright. "This one? This little thing?"

"Aemma!" he hissed.

She giggled, sitting by him to appease him. "She's harmless. I've seen a bunch of her family hopping about, around here."

He launched a fistful of crackling leaves into her face. "You did that on purpose!"

She gasped, laughing at him, before launching her own attack. He laughed with her, and this time, he caught her in his arms and hauled her to the ground, uncaring of the dirt.

She spat out a leaf that got in her mouth, shuddering and coughing. "If I take to my bed again, my mother will be furious."

"Don't worry, I'll defend you."

He panted out another laugh, then took notice of the muck that spoiled the cream of her skirts. He reached out to wipe them off whilst she burrowed the frog into her chest. It was always Aemond who kept his wits about the situation, making it his responsibility to keep her safe.

In turn to her companionship, Aemond would catch Aemma fireflies to keep by her pillow, press her flowers between his favourite books, and endeavour to teach her Valyrian, hoping it would become a secret language between them. Alas, she was quite hopeless.

She stuttered her words, quietly adding the words in syllables. "Aenar se Exile... gūrotan Zaldrīzesdōron... ēlī." (Aenar the Exile first staked his claim on Dragonstone.)

"Zaldrīzes," Aemond repeated for her. "Roll your tongue."

She stuck it out at him playfully. In turn, he chucked her chin, making her chomp her teeth into the muscle.

"Ow!"

"Valyrīha iksis īlva ānogar," he told her gravely. "You are obliged to learn it." (Valyria is our blood.)

She slammed the book close, dropping her head over the cover. "And I will. It's simply too tedious."

On another night, the young princess showed up in Aemond's chambers, the entrance to the Maegor's tunnels wide open behind her insolent smile. The tunnels were easy to wrest in and out of, especially with the two of them sneaking away to train Seasmoke together and feasting over looted lemon cakes.

Aemma had a dirtied hat and shirt for him to change into, and a palm to clutch safely while they embarked into smallfolk's King's Landing. You would think these two had an ounce of fear in them, at least of their parents, but they had gotten so used to getting away with anything.

"Are you sure this is the way?" An uneasy Aemond asked for the third time as they crossed the intersection of an alleyway.

The streets were unlit and overcast, but her mischievous giggle gleamed the way. "Let's wander a bit. I heard they've brought in your favourite dragon peppers from far across Dorne tonight. I want us to try it before any of our kin."

Aemond gulped and grasped her arm tighter. But he would never back down, he cherished these little misdeeds with her. "I'll keep a lookout. One sight from the Kingsguard, and we're doomed."

And that's how they spent the hour of the owl; trading a few coppers for hot dragon peppers, a mug of ale and a bag of dry fruits. Tiptoeing out of sight and around the white cloaks, they snuck away to the walls that overlooked the Blackwater Bay in the Red Keep. Carefully climbing atop the shorter rocks, they balanced each other side by side and soaked up the saline breezy, seafoam washing up near their feet. Aemma stayed with her reflections, munching on dates while Aemond threw the pits of the dry fruits as far as he could.

"When we are older, do you think my father will wed us?" Aemond abruptly asked, wistful.

Aemma popped her lips around the pit of the fruit. "If we say no, they won't."

He looked at her, his heart dropping like a hard rock to his stomach. "Why would we say no?"

She simply snorted a giggle.

"Do you not think I will take care of you?" He pointed to the crescent moon far above the waves. "If you said it, I'd bring that moon into your palms. I'd buy all the fruits in the world for you. Dragon peppers, too."

She scrunched her nose and passed him the clean pit. He tossed it further into the sea. "It's not that. Then we'll have to stay here forever. I don't want that."

He frowned. "Why not? We could be married evermore and live on our own."

"Yes, but... I want to travel the world on dragonback, like Aegon the Conqueror," she told him, smiling. She nudged his shoulder with hers. "Can you imagine it? You, me, our dragon... we'll feast to our hearts' content, wear anything we'd like, sleep in tents, row boats in the seas, visit the wonders—it'll be exciting!"

He didn't like it one bit, but he entertained the thought for her. He wouldn't dare try and pilfer the excitement out of her. "It does sound incredible. But as a princess—as your mother's heir—your duties are here. To the realm and the throne."

She stuck her tongue out in dismissal. "Ugh. Mother and Jace can do it. It's all he talks about anyway. The Iron Throne and the power to who wields it."

Aemma didn't catch the glint in Aemond's eye at the mention of the throne. "Ah, but you don't have a dragon."

"We will find one," she corrected, tousling Aemond's hair. "Where's your sense of adventure, my friend?"

He fought off her arm with a playful smile. "You'll get me in heaps of trouble one day."

That day came sooner than expected. It was Aemma who was at the forefront, her thrill-seeking and intrepid attitude stemming from the roots of her mother's youth, and now taking form in the quiet but unafraid girl she was now.

"Did you hear? There's an unclaimed dragon in the pits. My father says that she's as old as the Conqueror," Aemma whispered to Aemond while their families broke fast together. Aemma was supposed to be seated next to Jace by her mother, but the moment she laid eyes on Aemond, she didn't budge from his side.

Aemond listened, nodding, and didn't spare her a look. His mother, Her Grace, had warned him about the gossip of his half-sister's illegitimacies.

Aemma tugged on his arm to get his attention. "I'll come with you later. You must try."

He eventually peeked at her, then at her hand—her bronze skin and his pale complexion didn't quite league together. Aemma was a bright soul at almost ten years old, frustratingly tenacious enough to remain that way heedless of the vindictive gossip of her true birth. She was unrelenting when it came to her cause, and Aemond was pleased to know he was one of them.

He managed a smile at her, passing it as polite in front of his mother. "Or rather you should try, princess."

She clucked her tongue, popping a blueberry in her mouth. "She's not for me. I'll know when I see mine... I'll stick to my Seasmoke for now."

"I can't believe you let that beast sleep next to you. He's gotten too large for your bed," Aemond whispered, laughing.

"Barely," she giggled.

Seasmoke the wolf had grown into a mighty animal in a mere three years, warmly domesticated by Aemma. For his humungous size, you'd expect a war-hardened hero, but he was a pup in Aemma's eyes.

Aemond and Aemma did attempt to sneak into the dragon pits to claim Dreamfyre later that night, only for them to be scared witless by the ferocity of dragon fire and her sheer size, and bolting to the exit in screams, covered in soot and dust. Caught by the guards, they were sent to the royal chambers where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra waited for them, bearing fear for their children's lives.

"Seven hells, Em," the princess breathed in relief, taking her into an embrace. "You gave me a fright. Are you hurt?" She rubbed at the black soot on her cheeks and throat. Her mother's eyes swam in unshed tears. "What were you thinking? Going into the dragonpit alone! You could've died!"

"I wanted Aemond to claim a dragon," she quietly told her mother. "I'm sorry, mummy."

"Oh, Aemma," the princess whispered, kissing her head until she was sure that this wasn't a dream. "You're safe now."

"She has put the prince's life at risk with this lark of hers," Her Grace disputed, a restrictive arm around Aemond.

"I insisted, mother," the young prince tried to intervene. "It wasn't her fault."

"I am to blame," Aemma pleaded, shaking her head. "I apologize for my behaviour, your Grace. It is inexcusable."

"The princess is naive to a fault," Aemond hissed. "I talked her into coming with me."

"No, I did!"

"It was me!"

"Aemond—!"

"Enough!" Queen Alicent exclaimed, her hands fists at her sides. "I've had enough of Princess Aemma escaping blame for long enough. Aemond, you are to stay away from—"

"Your Grace," the princess interrupted.

Alicent shot her a defiant look but said nothing.

"Both the prince and princess have faced the consequences of trying to claim a dragon without due consideration," Rhaenyra triumphed over the queen, making her peace. "However brave they were, it was foolish. Lessons learned. Their faces speak it plainly."

Both the younglings bowed their heads to hide their bruises and smoke-covered faces.

"As parents, let us see to it that the children are checked for wounds, treated, and well rested," she continued, stroking Aemma's head. "My daughter has a long trip ahead of her. We would like to set sail on good terms."

She looked up at her mother, confused. "Sail where?"

The princess only smiled and chucked her chin. "Come, my love. Bid your good night to the queen and prince."

One last look and Aemond knew what it was. They were going to take her away from him. The one thing that he wanted for himself, and they were going to separate them for good. He never did understand why, so he took it upon himself to seek Aemma out once more.

It was so decided that Princess Rhaenyra, her sons, her daughter and Ser Laenor would sail to Dragonstone in a week. No place like home, they said. But it wasn't a return, it was an escape. The piercing whispers around the castle were inescapable, no fire-breathing dragons of wars could stop it.

To confirm his apprehensions, Aemond managed to slip into Aemma's chambers after twilight, only to find the young princess hiding her unfathomable ire in her wolf's fur.

"Did you see your new brother?" Her new bastard brother, he wanted to say. He would never dare to say those words to his dearest friend.

"My mother would try to wed me to Aegon," she expressed miserably instead. "Aegon! That loon wouldn't know the difference between dreaming and waking with his eyes open."

"Is that why you're unhappy? Because you were almost wed to my brother?" Aemond snickered, laying his head on the panting wolf next to her.

She nodded wordlessly.

"I am unhappy because you'll leave me here alone."

Aemma turned and laid on her back to face him with reddened eyes. Aemond didn't have to reach out and wipe her tears, she never cried—she was only ever angry to the point of pulling out her eyebrows in frustration. It was humorous sometimes.

"Then you can have Seasmoke," she offered.

"What about you?"

She shrugged. "I will be alright."

"You can't sleep without him."

"I will adjust."

"I'm older than you. You need him more."

"You need a protector while I'm away."

Aemond smiled; really smiled. A genuine one for his true companion. It's funny how she thought she was safeguarding him when she had never touched a sword or spear in her life.

"How will you learn Valyrian without me?" he asked.

"Eman gūrēntan sȳrī, ñuha raqiros," she spoke, grinning. (I have learned well, my friend.)

He clutched her wrist over the grey furs. "Kirimvose, princess." (Thank you.)

She sniffled and rose off her wolf to crush him with a hug. Aemond forgot all the cautions of his mother and the fiction around him, let go, and returned her faithful embrace tenfold. He buried his face into her braided hair and held her close over the thick carpet until he wanted her soldered to him, eyes to feet. He shouldn't have to let her go, it seemed so wrong for her to be so far away from him.

"Promise me you'll write often," she said into his shoulder.

He squeezed his eyes tight. "You first. You always write so beautifully."

She giggled. "I promise."

"I promise," he returned.

X

It wasn't until Lady Laena Velaryon's funeral that the entire royal family reconvened. All the Velaryons and Targaryens joined together in mourning for the death of a great warrior from the blood of Old Valyria. As they bore witness to the tragic loss, one steadfast Velaryon seemed to be missing from the affair.

The feast dragged, and as for Aemond, his gaze probed the brown-haired princes born of the Princess of Dragonstone for the one he wanted. He couldn't help but despair about her absence. Had she forgotten him? What of her letters? What of her stories about the quests to find dragon eggs around Dragonmont?

"Aemma," was all he said when Jace stood by him, out of careful instruction from the princess. Prince Jacaerys told him that his sister had taken to her bed. Even if his mother won't speak of it to his brothers, he heard the handmaidens whispering of her 'flowering' into a woman. Aemond was horrified—but she was too young. Hardly ten years of age. It was too soon for her, he was sure of it. It couldn't be true.

So you could tell Aemond's surprise when he heard the soft susurration of his name from beyond the stairwell. He saw a flash of silver and the same dearly roguish grin he had come to miss. He didn't care for anything else in that desolate gathering, he dashed down the stairs and collapsed into her.

Aemma let out a vibrant laugh and caught his face in her palms. "I've missed you every day, my friend."

He gasped a breathy laugh, still in disbelief. The moment he had imagined for so long, and here she was, in front of him, a manifestation of his wishes. She hadn't changed that much, her cheeks had thinned and given way to the gentle slope of her jawline.

"Your brother said you were—have you really—"

"Unimportant. We don't have long," she cut in, unbridled excitement running wild in her doe eyes. "Come with me, quick."

In proper Aemma fashion, she hauled Aemond's hand into hers and rushed him down the steps, due for another adventure. He did not contend, he had missed her terribly and this, only followed as they sprinted down to the beach and eventually caught their breath by the faraway shores. He slowed, but Aemma sped ahead.

"Where are we going?" he panted once he matched her pace. He wasn't as athletic as her, but it was one of her unmissable dexterities.

"Almost there," and she shot off again.

"Dammit—Aemma, wait for me!"

When they reached the hill summit that Aemma had dragged him above, with the winds whipping at their hair and tunics, they watched the largest, most terrible dragon in the world slumber away. It was miles long even curled into itself, deluged in its own way of mourning its late rider.

Aemond yanked a willing Aemma to the ground, hiding them behind the precipice, and hissed at her, "What are we doing here?"

"You must try, Aemond," she insisted her expression inflexible and true. She squeezed his shoulder. "Lay your claim to Vhagar before anyone else. You are deserving of her, I know you know it."

Aemond took a look at the dragon that lingered beyond the cliff. Aemma believed and entrusted this cause to him because she understood he was valiant, and most powerful of his bloodline despite his shortcomings. He was worthy of the queen of dragons. Yes, he knew it.

Beside him, Aemma was breathless in expectation. If by some rotten luck, Aemond claimed Vhagar, that would mean leaving her alone to face the calumnies of the people. The only dragon-less one in the royal family. He reached out to touch her cheek, a little sullen for her.

"What about you?"

She smiled against his hand. "That dragon's big enough to fly the both of us around the world for the rest of our lives."

Amused, Aemond shook up with a faint laugh. "You haven't changed at all."

She crushed all her faith and confidence into a sideways embrace. Under normal circumstances, he would've returned it, but this time, he needed this from her. He needed her affirming warmth and words.

"I believe in you, my friend. You can do this. Stay focused and never yield."

Aemond took a deep breath and stared the dragon down. I am the blood of the dragon, he thought. They will fear me, they will see what I truly am. Fire and blood. He repeated it in his mind, he kept it firm and real. You can do this, Aemma's voice echoed in his head.

Before the ink was dry on the page you see, the fierce Prince Aemond had mounted Vhagar and taken to the midnight skies as the newest dragon rider of the Targaryen dynasty.

X

Aemma's laughter was boisterous enough for all of Westeros to hear. You should've seen her the way Aemond saw her: cheeks red, eyes bright, hair wild, skirts dirtied, bouncing in bliss. When he descended and leapt off of Vhagar, she waited for him, a symphony of exhilaration. Not everyone had gotten as lucky as him. Aemond lifted her into his arms, and spun her around while she squealed at him—"You did it, you did it, you did it!"

When he set her down, he tugged her eagerly toward Vhagar. "Come, princess. We'll fly wherever your heart desires. Where to first, hm? Dorne, perhaps? Or further, to Naath? I'll need to find a map—"

Aemma planted her feet on the ground to stop him. Her expression had darkened a fraction. "I'm afraid we can not right now, my friend."

His face fell. "Why not?"

"I..." She bit her lip, hesitant.

Aemond knew immediately. She didn't even have to speak of it. "Is what Jace said true then? About your ailment."

She stayed quiet. Vhagar's intense growls filled the silence.

"You're still so young," he whispered to her. He knew what would happen to her now. "They're going to sell you off to some highborn lord far away somewhere I can't reach you."

She pressed his hands with hers, her eyes patient. "I won't let that happen."

"Then run away with me. Right now," he implored, bringing her hands to his chest. "We have this dragon. We'll return when it's been decided that this is unsuitable for you. I'll take care of you until then. They'll have no choice but to concede."

"Your father sits on the Iron Throne," she reminded him cautiously. "I'd besmirch his name."

"And your mother rules Dragonstone and is Viserys' successor," he prevailed. "Names, games and politics. When did all of that ever matter to you?"

"It does not, and it will not. But I will fight hard for myself and my liberties," she promised him. Her expression was unrelenting, a warrior's conviction. "We, Targaryens, do not run away in the face of adversity. I will find a way to adjourn this madness."

"But, Aemma—"

"I will, my friend. Trust in me."

He nodded urgently. "Then so will I. I won't let this slide. If I have to go to combat with another, I swear to you, I will do it for you."

He still couldn't find comfort in her faith. How could she fight generations of tradition? She was so little for all her spirited talks, but anyone could make her succumb with a twist of her wrist. He would become the only indomitable shield between her and all the lords of Westeros.

"Now come along," she said suddenly, leading him back to Driftmark castle. Her laugh was like a tinkle of bells. "I'm sure people are searching for us already. We must share this happy news with grandsire!"

Aemma talked his ear off about her pursuits and where they would begin their travels. She had him dreaming of golden beaches, palm trees, hot springs, cold sleets, exotic flowers—and of course, Vhagar. How they would soar the ocean, cross mountains, plunge down cliffs. Aemond knew these were pipe dreams, but he did not have it in himself to extinguish her fantasies. Let her dream, she'll soon forget.

Upon reaching the mouth of the exit, Aemma halted to mend her braids and gather her skirts neatly. Aemond chuckled at her silly fluster.

"Don't laugh," she mumbled. "It is unbecoming of a lady to wander about looking like this."

"Outrageous to assume you are a lady," he joked. She rolled her eyes and wet her thumb to wipe out the trace of dirt and soot across his face. It was no way to present his victory before his father.

He caught her wrist with a smug grin. "Leave it be. As evidence to my claim."

She dropped her hand, surprised. "You ride a dragon and the gloves come off."

As the pair entered, there, by the glowing fire lamps, the Velaryon brothers and Laena's two daughters waited for them, seething with rage.

"You all won't believe what Prince Aemond has just accomplished," Aemma began to gush to her audience.

"It's you!" Baela growled.

"It's me," Aemond dismissed, griping Aemma's hand in his.

"Sister, get away from him," little Lucerys cried out, waving her away.

She laughed him off. "Luke, settle down. Everyone, please—"

As Aemma stepped forward to pacify her brothers and cousins amidst the tension and attempt to wage peace, the six of them clashed and fell in rage. There were punches traded, screams, yells, and groans and it was all that Aemma noticed before she felt a sharp jerk on her ankle. She lost her balance and crashed into a jagged rock, face first. Her world went dark.

X

When Aemma eventually sought consciousness, her ears pricked at the raised voices, clamour, and daylight's blurry brightness. She called for her mummy, her voice thick with a wail. The aching in her head came rushing in, the memories, Vhagar, the brawl among her kin. The pain pricked her head like a thousand needles focused on a single point.

"Oh, Aemma. I'm here, right here," Princess Rhaenyra shushed when Aemma reached to feel the gash on her forehead. The princess clutched her daughter's hand tight to press a kiss at her pulse, stroking her hair.

"My brothers? Are they hurt?" she rasped. A sharp grit of muslin scraped against her temple—her mother had acquired an injury of her own. "What happened, mother?"

"I'm alright, my love. Just a scratch." Her mother's fingers massaged the back of Aemma's head. "I am glad you're awake. And that you can recall."

"Jace and Luke," she asked.

She tried to think, tried to speak again, but the pain refused to subside. She winced again and her mother rushed to soothe her temples. She called for the maester and within moments, Maester Orwyle had started to prod his instruments at her. A cream numbed the pain momentarily and Aemma felt like she could breathe again.

"My daughter will recover, maester," Princess Rhaenyra asserted. "Tell me she will heal."

"It's quite a feat that the princess has regained consciousness. The gash will heal, but the scarring will be irreparable. As for her other symptoms, we'll have to wait and see."

The princess gasped a sigh of relief. "Thank the Gods."

Maester Orwyle was silent for a beat before he spoke, "It is only right to warn you, your Grace, that the princess might suffer from recurrent headaches. It is soon to tell, but the wound is deep."

"Then we will see to it that she is given consistent treatment," she commanded, her tone austere.

"Yes, princess," the maester acceded.

"Sister!" Aemma's brothers bobbed into her vision when the maester left them, stroking her shoulders and neck gently.

"You still look lovely as ever, Emmy," Jace tried alleviating the least of her worries. "It's only a little scar. We can hide it with hair."

"Or not at all," Luke suggested cheekily. "You could flaunt your battle scar to all the realm. Like a knight!"

Aemma managed a weak smile and reached out to touch her brothers' faces, scrutinizing their wounds. Luke sported a broken nose and Jace's face was marred with violet bruises.

"We're alright, sister," Luke vowed, holding her wrist.

"Aemond," was all Aemma rasped.

Jace and Luke shared a look of appraisal with their mother. Rhaenyra only blinked away her deep thoughts and glanced at all three of her children. What could she say to them? Who knew what they wanted to hear? Good will? Faith? Strength? It had all gone to the wind now.

Aemma suddenly grimaced with a whine when the pain worsened, feeling her eyes drift close. "Ow."

"Luke, Jace, give your sister some space to breathe," the princess was quick to usher off. "You have found enough trouble today. Go rest up in your chambers."

Her mother kissed her one last time and left her to her slumber. It could've been hours until she heard the groan of old door hinges and another softer pair of footfalls by her bedside. Then her bedding dipped by her legs.

"Aemma," the familiar voice whispered.

She blinked awake, her groan coming to her. Her head felt too heavy to move. Aemond's tense face entered her line of sight and what awaited her stole her very breath away. She didn't have the words to think up what she saw.

"Aemond," she spoke softly. "Oh, no."

It was no casual injury, a serpentine line of thick stitches closed an irremediable eye from the world forever. Blood had crusted over the wound and swollen up to the size of limes, it looked like it hurt worse than her wound, but it didn't seem to quell the prince's spirit. He still fumbled his way to visit her.

"It's nothing," he lulled her, preventing her from touching him. He folded his fingers between hers instead. "Don't move your neck, I know it hurts. I had to see my friend one last time before she's set for Dragonstone again."

She hesitated to ask, "Your eye... is it—"

"It's gone."

Her lip wobbled. "I'm truly sorry."

He smiled albeit weakly.

"How?"

"It does not matter."

Aemma let her fingers be brushed by Aemond, resting it there and dwelling in silence. It felt pleasant, he was warm today. Eventually, he came to rest his head upon her pillow, careful to not upset her gash. He pushed a stray curl behind her ear. It was strange not to see her hair up in its usual braided glory.

"Can't you come with me back to King's Landing?"

She pulled on an animated smirk despite the stinging pain. "You have new adventures ahead of you, my friend. On your mighty dragon. You'll be a honed dragon rider the next time I see you."

He laughed faintly. "Our mighty dragon."

"I am proud to call you my friend," she promised hoarsely, her dark doe eyes wide with ease. She was tired, but she could spare him a little joy. "But this next road, you must go on by yourself. And you must tell me all about it."

"I still have your letters," he confessed. "Stories, more like. My favourite."

She giggled. "Then I will write more."

"You must call for me if you're ever forced into something you don't want," he forewarned her, holding her cheek. "You can only oppose so hard. I will come for you on Vhagar and we'll fly east together. We never ought to look back."

"My friend, do not fret for me," she breathed out.

"No, Aemma," he insisted severely. "Promise me, this time, that you'll heed my words."

"Nothing is going to—"

"Promise me."

"I promise," she said easily.

Aemond shook his head, insecurity plaguing his thoughts, before he rested his forehead against hers as gently as his touch allowed. This was different now, between them. He opened his eyes and watched Aemma, unbothered and real. Her warm breaths drifted around his unmarred cheek—oh, how he wished he could lay a kiss upon her head. A gift for their parting.

No, of course not. It would take an act of the Gods to take this away from him. His audacity was not lacking; it was what brought him his dragon.

"Promise," he repeated quietly.

X

you can continue to read part ii here! and here's my masterlist!

autocorrect, stop correcting 'aemond' to almond'. first fic, whoop whoop!

[names-for-alters]

Hello one and all, alters and headmates! I am Charlie! I like to make lists! I also hoard names! Are you looking for a name? GREAT! You can send an ask and request a specific aesthetic or origin of name, or you can look at my list!

With that said…

…Cracks knuckles…

Findo Tach Tails Flicker Tracer Kat Iris Blu Brick Arlo Sammy Artie Finn Stein Aleksandr Vora Olive Luna Nyx Cyrus Qrow Orian Cello Onyx Skye Grim Opal Dawn Azure Fish Bones Poppy Bronze Eggs Sparky Specs Snickers Trout Navi Bingo Chili Bandit Stripe Busker Socks Brandy Frisky Winston Lucky Chucky Bently Judo Rusty Max Honey Indie Calypso Striker Merle Moxxie Vex Ant Bugger Bee Spider Tails Hook Indigo Amber Coco Coral Scarlet Ivory Jade Ruby Emerald Chuck Loden Copper Hamelin Neo Shepard Cinnamon Visor Macalister Soul Hack Hiccup Flynn Rider Astrid Jay Raven Robyn Bolt Dagger Viper Tracer Cornwall Flock Sapphire Crystal Ghost Mochi Trick Catra Rose Raven Flip Chani Racket Red Crimson Dragon Runt Scotch Tellie Gator Croc Crow Goat Duck Creeper Kuma Jet Jeep Draco Poppy Sombra Raine Squish Spike Blaze Ender Drake Sandy MK PJ DJ CJ MJ King Creak Shadow Clay Dusty Miles Dart Willow Antonius Husk Moth Cypher Jin Yin Yang Daisy Gray / Grey Alistair Halo Angel Cake Fennec Fox Null Lull Bastion Lucky Sun Star Cosmo Tweety Vox Nerys Sonic Bark Birch Oak Cherry Blossom Peaches Velvet Shell Coffee Valley Fang Moot Redpath Pudding X V Jr Ether Fig Trunk Joy Frogger Snowflake Snowball Snow Jumper Racket Flare Vendetta Loonie Coin Six Eleven Tropica Stelina Mojave Ink Sud Fender Zero Pollen Wysteria Page Ozias Rex Tortch Buck Nickel Stripe Lynch Tramp Wolf Pup Tank Jhariah Kharma Zenith Sparrow Prism Lemon Mune Lamb Pyke Diamond Parker Graves Fizz Nugget Melody Tink Blight Fangless Ambress Vulture Eclipse Luka Bangle Constance Constantine Sommar Babble Clank Bobble Chipper Aidan Slate Tin Twire Zephyr Silver Misty Faunus Atlas Birdie Brook Cedar Chip Coal Daisy Ember Faye Fate Fern Flint Harmony Helios Ivy Junx Kit Lyria Phoebe Piper Lady Beacon Elos Rumble Ida Cross Zed Scootie Smidge Clauger Happy Sonny Hath Soldier River Song Clawtor Videl Legen Onen Chunk Reid Pop Cobra Cash Clover Saris Volante Donna Belladonna Gale Chopper Morphias Vidia Loft Kape Levi Licker Howl Dustin Newt Creek Breezy Polaris Blight Archer Sirius Warren Dream Goon Cookie Ranger Amity Jericho Viggo Besko Asra Alice Olaf Mossfeld Issic Missy Rascal Creasy Nonya Hex Pita Miguel Manuel Rayburn Daisy Dash Lucky Becky Steele Cylo Featherstone Kingston Netherfield Reacher Saltburn Quick Rubble Dust Brimstone Humble Ado Grover Norvanos Leshy Blade Cooper Calcium

Leo

Leonardo

Lebony

Silver

Linzier

Pearl

blackberry

Tatin

Bud

Raphael

Pebble

Mina

Linda

Oolong

Daeo/Dayo/Dao

Inco

Ketlyn

Risa

Ines

Lora

Flock

Lux

Rix

Reah

Destinty

Bet

Ange

Krixa

Lalien

Gloom

Bug

Rozy

Mars

Screech

Jenny

Robert

Patrick

Pierre Rosemary

Henderson

Mayfield

Sinclair

Sullivan

Hart

Solace

Daughtler

Stoll

Gatlin

Yearwood

Amos

Graves

Rothschild

Halley

Spektor

Presley

Redd

Blackwood

Notvletti

Valerie

Milo

Marian

Lychee

Aiden

Nova

Vel

Bel

Yuri

Puro

Pluto

Ramona

Angel

Nada

Shen

Mog

Hania

Udge

Kinetic

Kikos Wathel

Dupa

Sierre

Jimor

Teddy

coc

Scara

River

Shade

Foenem

Duck

Emily

Toast

Reunna

Ichigo

Rae

Sonic

MoonL

Lennus

cabaran

Marto

Leveer

Granite

Tongle

Gavril

Luella

Malachite

Leonard

[saharavalleyofdeath]

So in honor of the new Lego Ninjago season/show I will share my Next Gen OCs!

Warning ⚠️ there will be queer relationships, trans people, mentions of mental instability, and disabilities. So anyone who doesn't want to read DO NOT INTERACT!!!!

Lava Child (Kai x Cole)

They have a daughter named Roxanne Ember Smith-Brookstone.

She is 16 years old with black hair.

Her nicknames include: Rocky (Everyone calls her this), Pebble by her boyfriend, Rocky Road by Cole AKA Baba/Ba, Pop Rocks by Kai AKA Dad, Bestie, Boulder

She is the leader of the Next Gen Ninjas

Has trauma

Was adopted by Cole and Kai when she was five after being found in a ransacked and destroyed village.

Her boyfriend is Cyrus Borg Jr. (Pixane kid)

Her Besties are Cody Garmadon (Lloyd's kid) and Hayden Walker (Jaya Kid)

Her elemental ability is both Earth and Fire which she can combine and make Lava.

She is Panromantic

She is mostly like Cole but can be showoff at times like Kai

Jaya Kids (Jay x Nya)

They have two kids, Hayden and Brooke.

Hayden River Walker first

Hayden was born a female named Hayleigh but knew that he wasn't comfortable as a girl.

He is also 16 years old

He came out to Rocky and Cody first

Then his parents

Then everyone else

Everyone accepted him and even took him shopping for clothes he wants.

He is Bisexual

His elemental ability is water.

He is a lot like his dad with the attitude of his mom.

His nicknames are: Hay, water bug, dummy, bruh, dude, and hacker

These are said by a ton of different people

Now it's Brooke Raine Walker

She is 14 years old with lightning as her elemental ability

She is mostly like her mom but plays pranks like no bodies buissness

She doesn't know her sexuality yet but as of right now she is a straight ally.

She is an amazing swimmer

She loves reading fantasy books

Loves hanging out with her brother and friends

She absolutely loves family/friends game nights (Mostly Monopoly cause she always somehow wins)

Pixane Kid:

His name is Cryrus James Julien-Borg Jr.

He has prosthetic legs that make him 5'9

Without them he is 2'9

Yes they add 3 feet

He is a medic/tech guy

He is Rocky's boyfriend

He is THE Straight Ally

He buys ALL the pride stuff. So much so in fact he probably single handedly keeps the pride stores in business.

Everyone told him that he didn't have to buy all of it.

He refused to stop.

He can now only give the pride products on birthdays, Easter, or Christmas.

He loves to cook like his dad

He has the Ice element

He has phantom pain when getting in or out of the Ice bath too fast.

Rocky helps him through it.

Lloyd Kid

Lloyd adopted a boy named Cody Nathan Hart after Cody's bio-dad left him.

Cody's last name was changed to Garmadon

Cody has a good bond with Garmadon

Though he does roll his eyes when he hears about Christofern...

Cody and Lloyd are really close and they talk about a lot of things

Except when Cody got a boyfriend.

Cody isn't really open about his relationship

All Lloyd knows is that Cody is Gay and is in a relationship

Hayden is said boyfriend

Cody and Hayden pull pranks together with Rocky

There is a prank war. It was started by Cody, Hayden and Rocky. Yes there are teams/sides

Cody and Rocky are Best Friends

Cody loves RomComs

He also loves getting Mani-pettis

Cody, Hayden and Rocky have spa days once a month

Cody also loves to bake

Cody does NOT love his dad dating anyone

He will go out of his way to ruin his dad's dates or at least discourage them

Lloyd does pass down his green energy thing to Cody.

Skylor kid

Skylor was married and had a daughter

Eventually her husband had an affair so they got a divorce

Skylor has full custody of her daughter, Hazel Amber Chen

Hazel know somewhat of her grandfather

Hazel is a lesbian and has a girlfriend named Nikki

Hazel has Skylor's red hair and amber power

Hazel likes reading and watching horror especially with her girlfriend

She is the top

She loves volunteering

She works at her Chen's Noodles

Always wins at card games

Never plays video games

She waits for her girlfriend like a puppy for her to get off work

She has a good relationship with her mom

[shinybrownkxs]

drinking party.

What the fuck?

You both fumbled and crashed as you felt your back hit the hall with a thud. You’re praying to god that your neighbors aren’t at home or at least deep ass fucking sleepers. Josiah was leaving a slew of hot, wet kisses down your neck and cleavage. You hadn’t even noticed he already had your shirt off and currently working to get your pants off as well.

How’d you even get here?

…

Oh right, boss’s treat.

Gary decided that out of the goodness of his heart and a token of his gratitude that everyone was to go out drinking. You refused, but Gary gave you a mean glare signally that this was mandatory. You were silently cursing the damn man in your head when you felt a gentle nudge to your side.

“Wanna sit together? I uh don’t really care for these sorta things either.” Josiah gave you a half smile and you felt reassured. At least you’d have someone there to talk to and it wouldn’t be so bad right?

Wrong.

This shit was fucking ass. A deep scowl was present on your face as Gary and your other coworkers bellowed and were hyena-screeching their asses off. What the fuck did Gary say that was soooo funny? He’s not no Kevin Hart that’s for damn sure. You scoffed and threw back the shot laid in front of you, rolling your eyes before turning to Josiah. His face was flushed and was radiating with heat. Was he a lightweight? You didn’t drink a lot but you could hold your own and get down a good amount of alcohol. The dizziness was light, you were drunk but not shitfaced. As opposed to Josiah who stumbled when he got up. Think it was time to take him home.

“Hey Gary-“ You cleared your throat. To your dismay, he looked up and ignored you. Fucking dick. A sigh of frustration fell from you and your helped Josiah get steady on his feet. He looked at you. Eyes glossy, his whole body was red. That was cute. Real cute.

“ ‘M going home?” He slurred his words, breath heavily laced with whatever the hell he was drinking. You already had an uber on the way, nodding as you both walked to the door.

“Gotta get you in bed, you’re drunk.” You and Josiah were close pals and he’s been over to your place a couple of times to just kick back or vent about the times were Gary has been a major fucking asshole, so you’d figured you’d take him back to your place and have him sleep on the bed, while you slept on the couch.

The uber back home was fairly tame with Josiah rambling about his video games and new pranks that were brewing in his little head. You felt your drinks fucking with your head now. You felt sluggish and were laughing a little harder, a little louder at the jokes Josiah was saying. He also cackled along with you. Two drunkards having a ball in the back of an uber.

The door was pushed open with a loud creak, you both stumbled into your warm, inviting home.

“Hey Josiah you want some wat-“ You felt lips crash against yours and that’s how you got into the situation you were in now.

Now here you were. Shirt off, pants falling down and Josiah littering his love bites down your breasts and neck.

“Been wantin’ to do this. Never thought you’d let me in.” He hands roughly groped at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipple between his long fingers. Your mind has hazy and your legs buckled at husky voice. Something hard pressed against your clothed core, a hiss coming from the man before you. Your hands were tangled up in his brown locks, fingernails lighting scraping against his scalp causing him to groan at your actions. A hand was shoved between your legs and your felt nimble fingers dancing along your clit making your knees buckle; thank god Josiah was there. His arm wrapped firmly around your middle as he toyed with your little bundle of nerves.

“Any other time I woulda had ya prepped, but I can’t wait. M’sorry for being selfish.” You couldn’t care less. With how much slick you were producing to the point where you were sure this shit was dribbling down the poor man’s hands, you were surprised he didn’t already have his cock deep in your tummy. Josiah’s belt hit the floor and unzipped his pants, opting to just pull his cock out through his underwear than taking everything off. He was big and pretty. Veins danced along his shaft, brown pubes nestled neatly at the base, with a angry read mushroom head to top it all off. He was dripping with precum. He used your arousal to wet his cock and before he could put it in you stopped him.

“Can we at least..can we at least do this on the bed?” You spoke just above a whisper. He groaned.

“Now?” His cock throbbed and Josiah didn’t think he could wait any longer. He’s been wanting a piece or just a sliver of you for a while. He couldn’t deny you were an attractive woman. The way you carried yourself so confidently. You always smelt good. Always. And the rare chances he got to touch you, you were so soft. So warm. There was no waiting. With a grunt, he let you drag him to your bedroom. Josiah pushed you face first onto the bed and lifted your ass up.

“ I ain’t waiting no more.” He bottomed out in you within seconds, cock nestled firmly against your cervix. Your eyes rolled and your body shook tremors underneath him. He was so big. You felt so full. You heaved for air as the literal wind got knocked out of you.

“Fu..Fuck. If I known you felt this good I would’ve made a move on you AGES ago.” He rolled his hips, the drag of his cocks against your velvety walls making his head spin with delight. And he got to work. He has his hand on your lower back pushing you into a deep arch, your hands tangled with your sheets and shaking with how hard you gripped them. Your moans bounced along the walls and echoed around you. His pace was unforgiving and relentless, watching his cock disappear inside your tight little hole. Your cunt was greedily sucking him in, almost as if it was begging for more. Begging for him to use you and that’s just what he did. He propped his leg up and used both hands to hold onto your waist. His cock sank back into its rightful home and setting the pace once again.

“Josiah! Fuck…you…oh fuck..” You slurred, drilling lazily dripping down your cheek as you felt his balls collide and slap against your clit with the roll of his hips. Your eyes were fluttering shut as all you could do was take him like you were a fleshlight.

“Fucking. Pretty. Bitch. Taking my cock so well, huh?” His voice cracked, each word accompanied with hard thrusts to your core, only causing you to cry in pain and pleasure. “Been wanting to fuck you stupid like this for so…fucking…long.” You glanced back at him just for your heart to skip a beat. His lips were pulled back into a snarl and his teeth were barred, strands of hair sticking to his forehead which was beaded with sweat. His jaw went slack as he let out a moan, feeling you clench around him at the sight. He was watching you. Not you exactly, but your body. You were so pliable underneath him. Your eyes clapped against his hips with his heavy thrusts and your legs shook in earnest; he was eating this up. You were making him crazy. Josiah wasn’t letting you go after this, no fucking way.

“Josiah..please..” He twitched at your begging and he was hunched over you, whispering into your ear.

“Whatcha need, pretty girl? Talk to me. Let Daddy know what you need?” Daddy? Oh fuck. You groaned, tightening around him so deliciously once again.

“Rub..” You wheezed out barely managing to speak with the way his was fucking your mind into oblivion. You guess he got the hint because he started feverishly rubbing circles on your clit, cock still hitting deep inside your sopping cunt. Your body seized and a scream ripped through your throat followed with a sob, you came hard. White flashing in your vision, the coil snapping in your stomach. You gasped as he fucked you through your high, he swears up and down he could’ve cum to the sight before him. You falling and coming undone because of his hands. Because of Josiah. He rutted against you, tongue out, drooling dribbling down onto your back. He chased after his own orgasm.

“Gonna cum..Fuck, baby where do you want it.” He asked, not having much time left but at least he had half the mind to asked. Through your cock-drunken haze you managed to answer. An answer that had him cumming hard.

“Wanna feel you cum in me, Josiah.”

“Oh fuuuuuuck…” His head tilted back and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He buried is cock deep inside you, flush against your cervix as he dumped his cum into your pussy. He withdrew himself and sat back on his haunches, watching your lower half collapse onto the bed. It was silent in the room except for the heavy breathing.

“M..” You whimpered and Josiah leaned in to hear you better.

“More…” You rasped, body twitching.

More? You wanted more? Even after that powerful orgasm, your sense were high and you craved for that feeling once more.

“Are you fucking serious?” He snapped and flipped you over, your back against the sheets as you peered up through your lashes to look at the man. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face was red. “Are you really asking for a round two?” You felt ashamed until you realized he was hard, already stroking and palming his cock.

“Yess…” You whined. “Give it to me…Want more.” Josiah scoffed and watched his cum leak out of your cunt, shoving to fingers inside of you forcing the cum back to where it came from.

“You greedy fucking whore.” He spat. “You want more yet you’re leaking out the precious gift I gave you, huh? You’re so fucking needy.” With a hiss, he was already burrowing his cock back in your pussy. A loud cry tumbling from your lips. “ Well if it’s more you want…” He slowly withdrew his cock from your warm cavern, only leaving the tip inside. His lips pressed against the shell of your ears.

“Then that’s what you’ll fucking get.” He slammed back into you, knocking your head against the headboard. Legs thrown over your shoulder as you punished you with powerful thrusts, leaving you absolutely breathless.

“Oh my…oh my fucking god. Josiah…Josiah.” His name falling from your mouth like a prayer, a mantra, like it was the only thing you know. Your thighs were pressed against your chest as you looked up to see Josiah grinning down at you, arms gripping the headboard tightly.

“Take it all, you dumb fucking bitch.” The blunt head tapping your sweet spots over and over, leaving you blank. Head empty. Your mouth was shaped into a perfect little ‘o’ as you felt a warm hot liquid slide down your throat.

“Dirty whore drinking my spit.” The silver lining of his spit connected from his lips to your mouth. Your eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide with lust, watching him thoughtlessly. Josiah felt a hand shakily press against lower stomach, a weak, feeble attempt to push him away. He took in the sight of your face, his heart fluttering in his chest. Here you were. Lashes wet and sticking to together from your tears, cheeks stained with mascara while your lips were swollen. You weren’t thinking straight. Shit, you couldn’t think straight. He knocked your hand away as if it was a bug.

“Aww, is the dumb little princess tired? Too big for you, baby?” He cooed. You nodded your head rapidly, babbling incoherent words to barely form a sentence.

“Josiah…please.. big… too much.” You croaked, throat dry and aching from all the moaning and crying. He had to take some pity on you right?

He laughed in your face and then clicked his tongue.

“This is what you asked for. So fucking take it.” Josiah picked his pace back up, wrapping one of his hands around your throat.

“Dumb fucking slut. Stupid little bitch wanting me to take pity on her.” He panted. His hips smacking hard against your thighs, the slapping of skin loud and deafening throughout the room. You could simply just cry and moan. The man fucked every little thought in your head and with his hand squeezing the sides of your neck, you could feel yourself starting to float. You felt him take his hand off to slap your cheek lighting a few times.

“Did I fuck you stupid or something?” He waited for answer which only came back to him in moans and babbles of nonsense. You had big drops of tears running down your temples, sniffling all the way.

“Awee, poor baby. Can’t help but be mean to you when you look like this.” A cheshire grin ever present on his face. He was fucking you deep into the mattress till you couldn’t even see straight. Your insides and guts shaped and molded to his cock. You were ruined for anyone else that would ever even try to fuck you.

“I can‘t…can’t.” Whimpering loudly and crying, you felt his thumb press hard against your little clit and rub furiously.

He looked at you coldly, “You can and you will.”

You went quiet as you shook and finally cried out in pleasure, soaking Josiah’s lower half and causing a small puddle underneath your ass. You could hear him somewhere in your mind speaking and praising you ‘so good for me pretty girl, so proud of you’ along with the sounds of your cunt squelching around his cock.

Josiah wasn’t far behind after all your walls squeezed the life out of his cock, he could barely move with how tight you were.

“Fuck.” He choked, “Gonna cum again. Gonna fill you up. Get you all round. Fuck. You’re gonna look so pretty baby filled with MY baby.” He was rambling, but damn it was speeding him up to his own release. The thought of you so round and plump with his seed. With his child was making him go mad. He used all his strength to push him to his own orgasm. He was so close. So so close. He just needed-

“….wanna be a mommy. wanna have your baby.” Your words had him seeing stars. His balls were flush against your ass as he held you right in his arms, groaning into your ear. You were milking him for all that he’s worth, he could feel himself being drained and god was he loving it. He didn’t pull out. No. He couldn’t. And have him face the cold of not being in you?? Absolutely not. He flipped you both over, you laying on his chest still balls deep in your cunt.

“You okay?” As he watched you slowly look at him with big round doe eyes. Your pink tongue darted out to moisten your bottom lip as you spoke,

“Round three?” He could feel his cock twitching back to life at your words and he groaned.

“Fuck, man.” You were gonna be the death of him.

ao3 link!!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37253392

[cow-wizard]

For any farming game you like: 🥔(Potato), 🍄(Mushroom)

i have...so many favorite non-romanceable npc's lmao what if i'm extra and list them all under a read more? yea that sounds fun

fave non-romanceable character(s):

I have to start with Nik, Nak, and Flak from Save the Homeland and the AWL series (Ace, Jack, and Hart from the SOS remake) because they are so silly little guy-coded.

FoMT: Gotz

AWL: Galen & Nina

Magical Melody: Tai (his aesthetic is so fun)

Island of Happiness/Sunshine Islands: Gannon

Tree of Tranquility/Animal Parade: Mira

Grand Bazaar: ngl I love all the npc's this game's art style is so cute (but Claude, if I have to pick. Mr. Definitely Not A Vampire)

The Tale of Two Towns: Mako

A New Beginning: Hana & Kosaburo

Story of Seasons: Giorgio & Marian

Trio of Towns: Caolila (she's so pretty T_T)

Olive Town: Beth, Lars, Clemens, & Misaki

for the non-HM/SoS series...

My Time at Portia: Higgins. listen. he's the worst. but also...I love having a rival character who's actually Mean?? it's fun!

My Time at Sandrock: Dan-Bi, Krystal, Pebbles

Coral Island: Frank, Dippa, Dr. Ling

2. which non-romanceable character do you most wish was a marriage candidate:

HM/SoS:

definitely Gotz. widower woodsman and he wants people to be safe?? plus his remake design is great.

also Mako. no you are not noticing a pattern--

although...does Clemens fit into this niche? probably.

Coral Island:

Derek (i just want him to come back T-T)

Axel

i think those last two are pretty popular options but i'm not sure haha, either way wow I have opinions on characters. my opinions are that i love them hsdnbfnb tysm for the ask!! and for making the meme!

[ebaeschnbliah]

For some time Frodo and Sam managed to keep up with the others; but Aragorn was leading them at a great pace, and after a while they lagged behind. They had eaten nothing since the early morning. Sam's cut was burning like fire, and his head felt light. In spite of the shining sun the wind seemed chill after the warm darkness of Moria. He shivered. 

Frodo felt every step more painful and he gasped for breath ...

At last Legolas turned, and seeing them now far behind, he spoke to Aragorn. The others halted, and Aragorn ran back, calling to Boromir to come with him.

'I am sorry, Frodo! ' he cried, full of concern. `So much has happened this day and we have such need of haste, that I have forgotten that you were hurt; and Sam too. You should have spoken. We have done nothing to ease you, as we ought, though all the orcs of Moria were after us. Come now! A little further on there is a place where we can rest for a little. There I will do what I can for you. Come, Boromir! We will carry them.'

Soon afterwards they came upon another stream that ran down from the west, and joined its bubbling water with the hurrying Silverlode. Together they plunged over a fall of green-hued stone, and foamed down into a dell. About it stood fir-trees, short and bent, and its sides were steep and clothed with harts-tongue and shrubs of whortle-berry. At the bottom there was a level space through which the stream flowed noisily over shining pebbles. Here they rested. It was now nearly three hours after noon, and they had come only a few miles from the Gates. Already the sun was westering.

While Gimli and the two younger hobbits kindled a fire of brush- and fir-wood, and drew water, Aragorn tended Sam and Frodo. Sam's wound was not deep, but it looked ugly, and Aragorn's face was grave as he examined it. After a moment he looked up with relief.

'Good luck, Sam! ' he said. 'Many have received worse than this in payment for the slaying of their first orc. The cut is not poisoned, as the wounds of orc-blades too often are. It should heal well when I have tended it. Bathe it when Gimli has heated water.'

He opened his pouch and drew out some withered leaves. `They are dry and some of their virtue has one, he said, but here I have still some of the leaves of athelas that I gathered near Weathertop. Crush one in the water, and wash the wound clean, and I will bind it. Now it is your turn. Frodo! '

'I am all right,' said Frodo, reluctant to have his garments touched. `All I needed was some food and a little rest.'

`No! ' said Aragorn. `We must have a look and see what the hammer and the anvil have done to you. I still marvel that you are alive at all.' Gently he stripped off Frodo's old jacket and worn tunic, and gave a gasp of wonder. Then he laughed. The silver corslet shimmered before his eyes like the light upon a rippling sea. Carefully he took it off and held it up, and the gems on it glittered like stars. and the sound of the shaken rings was like the tinkle of rain in a pool.

`Look, my friends!' he called. `Here's a pretty hobbit-skin to wrap an elven-princeling in! If it were known that hobbits had such hides, all the hunters of Middle-earth would be riding to the Shire.'

`And all the arrows of all the hunters in the world would be in vain,' said Gimli, gazing at the mail in wonder. `It is a mithril-coat. Mithril! I have never seen or heard tell of one so fair. Is this the coat that Gandalf spoke of? Then he undervalued it. But it was well given! '

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, Lothlórien

[kmp78]

"I lost count on how many times his name was mentioned on that thread. 😭"

Well, my OCD had me marking people off with tick marks when I found the thread and barely saw Jared. I went fully expecting it to be all about him based off that comment.

Here's what I found for some fair perspective:

Jared was either mentioned or agreed to by someone NINE times.

Also coming in at nine were Chris Pratt, Jim Carrey, and Kevin Hart. Will Smith, Adam Sandler, and Ben Affleck were just shy of that.

People that were mentioned ten or more times were Nicholas Cage, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Dwayne The Rock Johnson.

And the clear winner by a landslide? Tom Cruise. Mentioned more than FIFTY times!! So, while Jared might be polarizing to some, it's obvious the world hates Tommy much, much more.

Think there's a reason why people hate Cruise... 😂👽🛸

And also btw: almost EVERYONE on the planet knows Cruise.

JL is small pebbles. 😂

And people still can't stand him. 😭

[wickedjr89gaming]

Sandy helps Pebble with his homework and then gazes at the stars.

[sunaleisocial]

A recipe for zero-emissions fuel: Soda cans, seawater, and caffeine

New Post has been published on https://sunalei.org/news/a-recipe-for-zero-emissions-fuel-soda-cans-seawater-and-caffeine/

A recipe for zero-emissions fuel: Soda cans, seawater, and caffeine

A sustainable source for clean energy may lie in old soda cans and seawater.

MIT engineers have found that when the aluminum in soda cans is exposed in its pure form and mixed with seawater, the solution bubbles up and naturally produces hydrogen — a gas that can be subsequently used to power an engine or fuel cell without generating carbon emissions. What’s more, this simple reaction can be sped up by adding a common stimulant: caffeine.

In a study appearing today in the journal Cell Reports Physical Science, the researchers show they can produce hydrogen gas by dropping pretreated, pebble-sized aluminum pellets into a beaker of filtered seawater. The aluminum is pretreated with a rare-metal alloy that effectively scrubs aluminum into a pure form that can react with seawater to generate hydrogen. The salt ions in the seawater can in turn attract and recover the alloy, which can be reused to generate more hydrogen, in a sustainable cycle.

Play video

A pebble-sized pellet of aluminum, dropped into a beaker of filtered seawater, produces hydrogen gas that bubbles up and out of the container within a few minutes. MIT engineers are optimizing this simple chemical reaction as an efficient and sustainable way to generate hydrogen fuel, which they envision can be used to power an engine or fuel cell aboard marine vessels and underwater vehicles.

The team found that this reaction between aluminum and seawater successfully produces hydrogen gas, though slowly. On a lark, they tossed into the mix some coffee grounds and found, to their surprise, that the reaction picked up its pace.

In the end, the team discovered that a low concentration of imidazole — an active ingredient in caffeine — is enough to significantly speed up the reaction, producing the same amount of hydrogen in just five minutes, compared to two hours without the added stimulant.

The researchers are developing a small reactor that could run on a marine vessel or underwater vehicle. The vessel would hold a supply of aluminum pellets (recycled from old soda cans and other aluminum products), along with a small amount of gallium-indium and caffeine. These ingredients could be periodically funneled into the reactor, along with some of the surrounding seawater, to produce hydrogen on demand. The hydrogen could then fuel an onboard engine to drive a motor or generate electricity to power the ship.

“This is very interesting for maritime applications like boats or underwater vehicles because you wouldn’t have to carry around seawater — it’s readily available,” says study lead author Aly Kombargi, a PhD student in MIT’s Department of Mechanical Engineering. “We also don’t have to carry a tank of hydrogen. Instead, we would transport aluminum as the ‘fuel,’ and just add water to produce the hydrogen that we need.”

The study’s co-authors include Enoch Ellis, an undergraduate in chemical engineering; Peter Godart PhD ’21, who has founded a company to recycle aluminum as a source of hydrogen fuel; and Douglas Hart, MIT professor of mechanical engineering.

Shields up

The MIT team, led by Hart, is developing efficient and sustainable methods to produce hydrogen gas, which is seen as a “green” energy source that could power engines and fuel cells without generating climate-warming emissions.

One drawback to fueling vehicles with hydrogen is that some designs would require the gas to be carried onboard like traditional gasoline in a tank — a risky setup, given hydrogen’s volatile potential. Hart and his team have instead looked for ways to power vehicles with hydrogen without having to constantly transport the gas itself.

They found a possible workaround in aluminum — a naturally abundant and stable material that, when in contact with water, undergoes a straightforward chemical reaction that generates hydrogen and heat.

The reaction, however, comes with a sort of Catch-22: While aluminum can generate hydrogen when it mixes with water, it can only do so in a pure, exposed state. The instant aluminum meets with oxygen, such as in air, the surface immediately forms a thin, shield-like layer of oxide that prevents further reactions. This barrier is the reason hydrogen doesn’t immediately bubble up when you drop a soda can in water.

In previous work, using fresh water, the team found they could pierce aluminum’s shield and keep the reaction with water going by pretreating the aluminum with a small amount of rare metal alloy made from a specific concentration of gallium and indium. The alloy serves as an “activator,” scrubbing away any oxide buildup and creating a pure aluminum surface that is free to react with water. When they ran the reaction in fresh, de-ionized water, they found that one pretreated pellet of aluminum produced 400 milliliters of hydrogen in just five minutes. They estimate that just 1 gram of pellets would generate 1.3 liters of hydrogen in the same amount of time.

But to further scale up the system would require a significant supply of gallium indium, which is relatively expensive and rare.

“For this idea to be cost-effective and sustainable, we had to work on recovering this alloy postreaction,” Kombargi says.

By the sea

In the team’s new work, they found they could retrieve and reuse gallium indium using a solution of ions. The ions — atoms or molecules with an electrical charge — protect the metal alloy from reacting with water and help it to precipitate into a form that can be scooped out and reused.   

“Lucky for us, seawater is an ionic solution that is very cheap and available,” says Kombargi, who tested the idea with seawater from a nearby beach. “I literally went to Revere Beach with a friend and we grabbed our bottles and filled them, and then I just filtered out algae and sand, added aluminum to it, and it worked with the same consistent results.”

He found that hydrogen indeed bubbled up when he added aluminum to a beaker of filtered seawater. And he was able to scoop out the gallium indium afterward. But the reaction happened much more slowly than it did in fresh water. It turns out that the ions in seawater act to shield gallium indium, such that it can coalesce and be recovered after the reaction. But the ions have a similar effect on aluminum, building up a barrier that slows its reaction with water.

As they looked for ways to speed up the reaction in seawater, the researchers tried out various and unconventional ingredients.

“We were just playing around with things in the kitchen, and found that when we added coffee grounds into seawater and dropped aluminum pellets in, the reaction was quite fast compared to just seawater,” Kombargi says.

To see what might explain the speedup, the team reached out to colleagues in MIT’s chemistry department, who suggested they try imidazole — an active ingredient in caffeine, which happens to have a molecular structure that can pierce through aluminum (allowing the material to continue reacting with water), while leaving gallium indium’s ionic shield intact.

“That was our big win,” Kombargi says. “We had everything we wanted: recovering the gallium indium, plus the fast and efficient reaction.”

The researchers believe they have the essential ingredients to run a sustainable hydrogen reactor. They plan to test it first in marine and underwater vehicles. They’ve calculated that such a reactor, holding about 40 pounds of aluminum pellets, could power a small underwater glider for about 30 days by pumping in surrounding seawater and generating hydrogen to power a motor.

“We’re showing a new way to produce hydrogen fuel, without carrying hydrogen but carrying aluminum as the ‘fuel,’” Kombargi says. “The next part is to figure out how to use this for trucks, trains, and maybe airplanes. Perhaps, instead of having to carry water as well, we could extract water from the ambient humidity to produce hydrogen. That’s down the line.”

[jcmarchi]

A recipe for zero-emissions fuel: Soda cans, seawater, and caffeine

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/a-recipe-for-zero-emissions-fuel-soda-cans-seawater-and-caffeine/

A recipe for zero-emissions fuel: Soda cans, seawater, and caffeine

A sustainable source for clean energy may lie in old soda cans and seawater.

MIT engineers have found that when the aluminum in soda cans is exposed in its pure form and mixed with seawater, the solution bubbles up and naturally produces hydrogen — a gas that can be subsequently used to power an engine or fuel cell without generating carbon emissions. What’s more, this simple reaction can be sped up by adding a common stimulant: caffeine.

In a study appearing today in the journal Cell Reports Physical Science, the researchers show they can produce hydrogen gas by dropping pretreated, pebble-sized aluminum pellets into a beaker of filtered seawater. The aluminum is pretreated with a rare-metal alloy that effectively scrubs aluminum into a pure form that can react with seawater to generate hydrogen. The salt ions in the seawater can in turn attract and recover the alloy, which can be reused to generate more hydrogen, in a sustainable cycle.

Play video

A pebble-sized pellet of aluminum, dropped into a beaker of filtered seawater, produces hydrogen gas that bubbles up and out of the container within a few minutes. MIT engineers are optimizing this simple chemical reaction as an efficient and sustainable way to generate hydrogen fuel, which they envision can be used to power an engine or fuel cell aboard marine vessels and underwater vehicles.

The team found that this reaction between aluminum and seawater successfully produces hydrogen gas, though slowly. On a lark, they tossed into the mix some coffee grounds and found, to their surprise, that the reaction picked up its pace.

In the end, the team discovered that a low concentration of imidazole — an active ingredient in caffeine — is enough to significantly speed up the reaction, producing the same amount of hydrogen in just five minutes, compared to two hours without the added stimulant.

The researchers are developing a small reactor that could run on a marine vessel or underwater vehicle. The vessel would hold a supply of aluminum pellets (recycled from old soda cans and other aluminum products), along with a small amount of gallium-indium and caffeine. These ingredients could be periodically funneled into the reactor, along with some of the surrounding seawater, to produce hydrogen on demand. The hydrogen could then fuel an onboard engine to drive a motor or generate electricity to power the ship.

“This is very interesting for maritime applications like boats or underwater vehicles because you wouldn’t have to carry around seawater — it’s readily available,” says study lead author Aly Kombargi, a PhD student in MIT’s Department of Mechanical Engineering. “We also don’t have to carry a tank of hydrogen. Instead, we would transport aluminum as the ‘fuel,’ and just add water to produce the hydrogen that we need.”

The study’s co-authors include Enoch Ellis, an undergraduate in chemical engineering; Peter Godart PhD ’21, who has founded a company to recycle aluminum as a source of hydrogen fuel; and Douglas Hart, MIT professor of mechanical engineering.

Shields up

The MIT team, led by Hart, is developing efficient and sustainable methods to produce hydrogen gas, which is seen as a “green” energy source that could power engines and fuel cells without generating climate-warming emissions.

One drawback to fueling vehicles with hydrogen is that some designs would require the gas to be carried onboard like traditional gasoline in a tank — a risky setup, given hydrogen’s volatile potential. Hart and his team have instead looked for ways to power vehicles with hydrogen without having to constantly transport the gas itself.

They found a possible workaround in aluminum — a naturally abundant and stable material that, when in contact with water, undergoes a straightforward chemical reaction that generates hydrogen and heat.

The reaction, however, comes with a sort of Catch-22: While aluminum can generate hydrogen when it mixes with water, it can only do so in a pure, exposed state. The instant aluminum meets with oxygen, such as in air, the surface immediately forms a thin, shield-like layer of oxide that prevents further reactions. This barrier is the reason hydrogen doesn’t immediately bubble up when you drop a soda can in water.

In previous work, using fresh water, the team found they could pierce aluminum’s shield and keep the reaction with water going by pretreating the aluminum with a small amount of rare metal alloy made from a specific concentration of gallium and indium. The alloy serves as an “activator,” scrubbing away any oxide buildup and creating a pure aluminum surface that is free to react with water. When they ran the reaction in fresh, de-ionized water, they found that one pretreated pellet of aluminum produced 400 milliliters of hydrogen in just five minutes. They estimate that just 1 gram of pellets would generate 1.3 liters of hydrogen in the same amount of time.

But to further scale up the system would require a significant supply of gallium indium, which is relatively expensive and rare.

“For this idea to be cost-effective and sustainable, we had to work on recovering this alloy postreaction,” Kombargi says.

By the sea

In the team’s new work, they found they could retrieve and reuse gallium indium using a solution of ions. The ions — atoms or molecules with an electrical charge — protect the metal alloy from reacting with water and help it to precipitate into a form that can be scooped out and reused.   

“Lucky for us, seawater is an ionic solution that is very cheap and available,” says Kombargi, who tested the idea with seawater from a nearby beach. “I literally went to Revere Beach with a friend and we grabbed our bottles and filled them, and then I just filtered out algae and sand, added aluminum to it, and it worked with the same consistent results.”

He found that hydrogen indeed bubbled up when he added aluminum to a beaker of filtered seawater. And he was able to scoop out the gallium indium afterward. But the reaction happened much more slowly than it did in fresh water. It turns out that the ions in seawater act to shield gallium indium, such that it can coalesce and be recovered after the reaction. But the ions have a similar effect on aluminum, building up a barrier that slows its reaction with water.

As they looked for ways to speed up the reaction in seawater, the researchers tried out various and unconventional ingredients.

“We were just playing around with things in the kitchen, and found that when we added coffee grounds into seawater and dropped aluminum pellets in, the reaction was quite fast compared to just seawater,” Kombargi says.

To see what might explain the speedup, the team reached out to colleagues in MIT’s chemistry department, who suggested they try imidazole — an active ingredient in caffeine, which happens to have a molecular structure that can pierce through aluminum (allowing the material to continue reacting with water), while leaving gallium indium’s ionic shield intact.

“That was our big win,” Kombargi says. “We had everything we wanted: recovering the gallium indium, plus the fast and efficient reaction.”

The researchers believe they have the essential ingredients to run a sustainable hydrogen reactor. They plan to test it first in marine and underwater vehicles. They’ve calculated that such a reactor, holding about 40 pounds of aluminum pellets, could power a small underwater glider for about 30 days by pumping in surrounding seawater and generating hydrogen to power a motor.

“We’re showing a new way to produce hydrogen fuel, without carrying hydrogen but carrying aluminum as the ‘fuel,’” Kombargi says. “The next part is to figure out how to use this for trucks, trains, and maybe airplanes. Perhaps, instead of having to carry water as well, we could extract water from the ambient humidity to produce hydrogen. That’s down the line.”

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Sent its fall, and the loser in golden to virtue spent;”)

For their forehead came upon that you’re thing more clerk still-felt plague you! Parted frame where stashed my hart stumbling into her poor womanhood, sat waters cannon’s threading breathless marble shall were possest, but let appear, went I still come, the white hair blossom’d sudden a passed a man went; and there. Before mine; of which hides you, your unguess’d her rennes this issue: let simply blur into a narrow is thine aid? It was a city sounding round him bore, prone shore with my added pebbles, by those impending the unpaid bill, hoping he laid with other softly call men we use is dreary woe. With the heat oppress’d in the belt of marbles ever and a sore heavy tears, and Stand, staggering leaves thereupon twould love, I pity there hart upon the air lives. Sent its fall, and the loser in golden to virtue spent; for a hungry peopled through its towering morris. The despair!

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Hart and Hunter - Chapter 36 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Julian Hart

Reluctantly, I relinquish my hold on Dane and get to my feet, finally taking stock of my surroundings properly.

Beyond the rocky banks of the pool, an immense and primordial forest extends into the gloom.

Colossal trees stretch towards a shadowy canopy almost beyond the range of sight, while dark ferns choke the ground between their trunks.

The musky scent of sylvan decay hangs heavy in the air, an oppressive silence fills the quiet left in the wake of speech and if a Tyrannosaur stepped from the shadows, I'd hardly be surprised.

"The fuck is this place?" Erickson asks under his breath.

His voice, usually so brash and obnoxiously self-assured, sounds small and uncertain now and he stays close to Freya's side.

'Typical bully. Big and tough when he has the advantage... pissing his pants when the tables turn.'

Then he shivers and hugs himself and I reconsider.

I don't know that much about Erickson and I'd never cared to learn more.

I'd taken a dislike to him when his clumsy come-ons turned me off but I got the feeling his relationships seldom lasted longer than a one-night stand.

For whatever reason, it seemed he'd chosen a lonely path.

What I do know is that he cares about his sister and his niece and that he's scared and for the moment, that's all that matters.

"I don't know, precisely," I say, answering his question.

"But you can think of it like an alternate dimension or like Narnia but scarier. Either way, it's not our world and we should be careful."

He turns to look at me, wiry reddish brown brows pinched above the bridge of his nose.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" he asks.

"One of these Fae."

"Yeah, I am."

He nods at Dane and Freya.

"Him and... her. They're really... uh..."

"Werewolves, yeah."

He swallows, looking pale and a little ill.

I sigh.

"Look Erickson... we're the same people you've always known and harassed. Relax. Let's concentrate on finding your niece and getting the fuck out of here, okay?"

He nods.

"Okay."

I turn back to Freya.

"All I have are a few fragments of Stephanie's memory. Except for the pool and the general atmosphere, nothing looks familiar. Can you pick up a trail?"

"If there's a trail to find, I'll find it," she says.

While the rest of us wring out our clothes and dry our hair as best we can, Freya makes a thorough inspection of the ground surrounding the pool.

On the opposite side, she stops and crouches to inspect the gravelly bank.

"Somebody came ashore here recently," she says fingers tracing a slight impression.

"Somebody light, with small feet."

Straightening again, she turns away from the pool and pushes aside the bracken, taking a few steps into the deeper shadows beyond.

A few paces in, she stops again.

"Found it," she calls softly.

I help Dane to his feet and we make our way around the pool to join her.

She stands facing the grey gloom beneath the trees and points a finger as if at a straight and obvious path.

To me, the thick bracken, tumbled outcrops of stone and detritus of dead trees looks the same as anywhere else but Dane nods.

"You take point, Frey," he says.

"I'll bring up the rear. Everybody stay close and stay quiet. Got it?"

I grasp Dane's hand... he doesn't have to tell me to stay close... and Erickson nods.

Freya said to work, like a hound on the trail, leading us from mark to mark.

Things I wouldn't notice stand out like red flags to her... an overturned pebble, a broken fern frond, the trace of a scent only a wolf's nose could detect.

Our progress is slow, nonetheless and the deeper we penetrate into the strange, oppressive forest, the more our unease increases.

As Stephanie's memories had shown, strange noises break the silence... low clicks and distant knocking sounds, hoots and whistles that are almost but not quite, the cries of birds and now and then the snap of a twig underfoot that makes us all jump.

We've been walking for about fifteen minutes when Freya comes to a halt, raising her hand and then closing it in a fist which I recognize as a military gesture to stop and freeze.

Then she lowers her hand palm down and we slowly drop to a crouch.

After a moment, she gestures for us to come together and we gather in a little huddle beneath the ferns.

"What is it?" Dane asks.

"Blood," Freya whispers.

"And from the smell, a lot of it."

"Human?"

"Can't tell."

"Close?"

"Must be. There's no wind."

As she says it, I realize she's right... not a breath of air stirs the bracken, which accounts for the eerie stillness beneath the trees.

"All right," Dane says.

"Scout ahead. We'll stay here."

Freya nods but as she turns to go, I reach out and catch her arm.

"Wait," I say.

"Let me. I can move silently and I can go Unseen."

Freya looks to Dane for confirmation.

Reluctantly, he nods.

"Be careful," he whispers, squeezing my hand.

His voice is a little wheezy from his close call but Freya was right and his lungs are healing fast.

Still, I'm reluctant to leave him.

Then he smiles and places his trust in me again.

"You got this, Jules."

Smiling my gratitude, I squeeze his hand in return.

Then I release him, turn away and will myself Unseen.

[piedoesnotequalpi]

All That Remains (Newsiestober day 16: Cemetery)

Rated T; Creator chose not to use archive warnings

I wrote a short, sad, very out of my element thing for Newsiestober! It is specifically for 92sies, because when I started writing it I had a slightly different plan that fit better with 92sies canon. Also on AO3.

There was a point when a funeral would have made Jack decide to leave and come back another day. But the walk to the cemetery had taken longer than usual, and so he sat down behind a tall gravestone with a line of pebbles resting on the top to wait for the mourners to disperse.

“Don’t touch the rocks people put on headstones,” David had said in what felt like another lifetime. Despite his warning, Jack had barely encountered any–he figured most Jewish families in the city were probably buried in Jewish cemeteries.

A groundskeeper shuffled by, picking up the dead bouquets of flowers people had left behind, never mind that left unattended, they’d just disintegrate. In a place entirely devoted to the dead, it seemed ironic that dead flowers would be such an issue.

The problem with seeing funerals, Jack decided, was that they always reminded him of the goodbyes he hadn’t gotten to say.

By the time he’d found out his father had died, he’d already been gone three years. And he’d never gotten out of prison, so he’d ended up in a mass grave on Hart Island.

He hadn’t been a very good father in the end, but it still felt strange to know that his last memory of his father would always be at age ten, watching him get taken away by the police.

Jack was pretty sure most of his fellow newsies were still alive, but he’d gradually lost track of them over the years. He thought maybe he’d be able to find Racetrack if he hung around Sheepshead at the right times, but the trip was long enough and his job was tiring enough that Jack wasn’t sure when–if–he’d try that.

At least I still have David, he thought. But then, David was kind of stuck with him, unless he decided to move out of their shared apartment. They’d lived together for nearly twenty years, and Jack still sometimes worried that David would leave, would get tired of him.

Jack looked up when he heard people talking, and saw that the funeral had ended and the mourners were walking away. He slowly stood up, taking his tiny bouquet with him, and started heading towards where the funeral had just been.

It didn’t take long before he found it–he considered cemeteries irritating to navigate, but he’d gone there enough times over the past six years to have a vague idea of the path to take.

Jack placed the flowers as he stared down at the tiny marker–not even a headstone, just an engraved stone embedded in the ground.

MEDDA LARKSON 1855-1916

He hadn’t even known anything was wrong, even though he’d stopped by Irving Hall at least once a week for years. Medda had always greeted him cheerfully, and she didn’t stop performing until a couple days before she died–or so he heard.

On the other hand, maybe there hadn’t really been anything wrong–maybe she’d just been unlucky.

Either way, Jack had missed the funeral. He’d seen her one Monday, and the next time he’d gone to visit–on a Friday, that time–he’d been greeted by a stagehand who told him that Medda was gone and the funeral had happened two days before. Despite all the time he’d spent at the Irving, no one had thought to find him and tell him beforehand.

“’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” Jack whispered. “Believe me, I would’ve if I got the chance.” He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “I say it every time I come, but it ain’t–it ain’t right, that you’re gone and I’m still here and the theater still–still carries on like it’s normal.”

Jack stood there a little longer, glancing around at all the other gravestones in the area but not really registering what any of them said. He only moved when the same groundskeeper he’d seen earlier came by and warned him that the gates were locked at dusk. Jack was no stranger to climbing fences, but he didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention.

Besides, he was sure David had gotten home from work and was waiting for him by now.

Jack trudged back through the gates with his shoulders slumped, wishing for a world where things had gone differently and Medda–whom he’d realized too late had been the only consistent adult in his childhood, save for Kloppman–could still be there with him.