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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

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Chapter 22 - This Was Not the Spa I was Looking For

Uuuhhh, I don't even know what this was. I had an idea and then this other idea fought the first one and won? so, it's completely different than what I had in mind, but ya know what? its written and done.

There is slight SLIGHT angst, but everything is good in the end :)

so sorry for the delay - will be updating a lot this weekend!

like always comments, questions, concerns, messages in my inbox, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

Budapest Not Included

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 284 points

Charles Leclerc – 227 points

Lando Norris – 189 points

Y/n L/n – 163 points

Carlos Sainz – 112 points

Oscar Piastri – 91 points

Lewis Hamilton – 83 points

Alex Albon – 44 points

Fernando Alonso – 41 points

George Russell – 40 points

Logan Sargeant – 30 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 447 points

Ferrari – 339 points

McLaren – 280 points

Mercedes – 123 points

Williams – 74 points

Aston Martin – 56 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpine – 12 points

Alpha Romeo – 1 point

HAAS – 0 points

f1 has posted

f1 Y/n L/n and Max Verstappen are out of the Belgium Grand Prix after the Red Bull of Verstappen hit the back of L/n. The latter skidded across the track before rolling over. L/n will be looked over at the medical site, especially after her last DNF back in Japan.

liked by y/n.nation, maxverSTOPpen, orange_army, and 802,394 others

max_and_rookie nah man, I like max but that was seriously his fault

y/n_on_top y/n had the priority to make way for him to win. he just ruined both of their races

max_all_the_way y/n should have just let him keep going tho?

redbullcan no she shouldn't cause Red Bull gave the 2-1 strategy, putting priority for the second car

maxiel333 I fear this is Azerbaijan 2018 all over again

f1fan well there goes that amazing teammate bond. great job max, what is this, 7 teammates? bout to be 8

Once again, you were hanging upside down, in the rain. But thankfully, this time you were conscious and talking.

You pressed the button that immediately went to your panicking race engineer.

“I’m fine Mitch. Stupid rain. This was definitely not the Spa I was looking forward to. You tell my asshole of a teammate that he owes me.”

You switched your radio off before Mitch could reply. You were fuming as the marshals were trying to get you out once again. Your race suit was becoming wetter and wetter by the minute. Your back ached as you tried to move.

So, how did this all happen?

You had been able to get around Max, per team request to make way on the track that was a little less rainy. Apparently, Max thought that you were trying to get the jump on him and completely rammed the back of your RB20, sending you flying. It was definitely a mirror reflection of Azerbaijan 2018.

How you ended up rolled over once again, you didn’t know. Maybe your car just didn’t have great balance when it came to kerbs and getting rear-ended.

In a few minutes, the marshals were able to get you out. As you stretched when you got out, your eyes landed on Max’s RB20 with its nose crumpled and wheel hanging off. You smirked under your helmet.

“Serves him right.”

You two were doing amazing that weekend. Max had gotten pole once again, and you were right behind him. Except that Charles was so close behind Max most of the race. Mitch had given you the 2-1 and had told you that GP had also given the Dutchman the same order.

There was still time for you to have given the position back, but you were quicker on the slicks. You could have easily brought home another 1-2 race.

But now Charles would probably get his third win of the season because Max was too selfish.

You watched as he climbed out of his own cockpit and your blood began to boil. He not only ruined his race, but yours as well. Your arms were crossed as you stood in the rain. Replays of the wreck were playing on the big screens, just for your enjoyment.

The longer you watched, the angrier you got.

A push to your arm brought your eyes from the big screen to the Dutch driver.

“The fuck was that?” he angrily questioned.

Your eyebrow raised under your helmet. Although you were shorter, you knew how to throw your weight around. So, you shoved his shoulder back.

“Me? The fuck was that with you Max. I was given priority! This was your fault!” you shouted, earning looks from the marshals around the two of you.

Max just glared. “My fault? That was clearly a rookie mistake.”

He pushed you again.

You let out a dark chuckle. “Rookie mistake? No Max. That was a you mistake.”

Your pointer finger dug into his chest, earning you another shove. One that sent you to the ground. You were now down, looking up at Max as he glared down at you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him stalk away.

A marshal was quick to help you to your feet. Max didn’t ride back with you to the paddock and walked the entire way. You, however, took advantage of the ride back and immediately tried to hide inside your drivers room when you got back. You kept your helmet on the entire time and wanted to refuse to go to the medical room. Mitch was adamant about you going since the last time you were bruised pretty badly.

She made sure it was quick: just a check over. After, your race engineer left you to yourself. While you undressed and peeled off your wet race suit, your mind started swimming.

Feelings of guilt and anxiety were building in your core. Soon, you were beginning to sob as you sat on your little bed. Really, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, preferably with your boyfriend, who was all the way in the Ferrari garage.

Your sobs quieted down as your eyes began to droop. Taking a nap right now seemed to be a good choice as you lied down on the small bed, curling up in a ball. A nap would keep you safe from whatever was going on. You didn’t have to deal with anything if you were asleep.

Right as you were falling asleep, Max had just gotten back to the garage. His helmet was in his hands and his eyes were to the floor, missing the disapproving looks from everyone. On the way back, he had time to think about what he had done.

Yes, he knew that you were given priority, but didn’t know exactly why. You didn’t seem faster on the slicks or were gaining. He didn’t expect you to go around him like that. And now looking back, he could see that you were making a way for him by getting rid of some water on the track so he could get more grip.

What he didn’t expect was a shove to the back and a punch to the face. He barely had time to turn around before he landed on his ass on the concrete of the garage. He was so taken back that he really couldn’t understand what was going on.

All he knew was that his face hurt, his ass hurt, and his pride hurt.

How could he have done that to you?

When he got his bearings, he finally saw a certain Monegasque be held back from jumping on him. Spits of French and English were thrown at him, and he deserved it. Once he was back on his feet, Arthur took two handfuls of his race suit and pulled him down.

There was hardly a height difference, but right now Arthur looked a lot bigger than Max did.

Arthur leaned close to Max’s face.

“How dare you? You know that she would do anything for you and what do you do to thank her? You push her down. You break her down. You blame her for your mistake.”

Silence was all that Max could offer.

Arthur scoffed as he let go.

“You’re no better than her parents.”

With that, he left and walked toward your room. He harshly pushed the door open, only to find you sound asleep, oblivious to the world outside. Arthur turned off the lights before gently climbing into your bed. He didn’t know how the two of you had fit, but you did.

He guessed that you must have sensed him as you turned over and dug your head into his neck almost immediately. Arthur pulled out his phone before googling flights back to Monaco, back to home. He’d keep you in his pocket if he had anything to do it.

Race Results:

Charles Leclerc – 25 points

Carlos Sainz – 18 points

Oscar Piastri – 16 points (fastest lap)

Valtteri Bottas – 12 points

Lewis Hamilton – 10 points

George Russell – 8 points

Fernando Alonso – 6 points

Alex Albon – 4 points

Logan Sargeant – 2 point

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point (highest placing this season)

Lando Norris (spun out on last lap and barely missed the points)

Daniel Ricciardo

Yuki Tsunoda

Kevin Magnussen (highest placing this season)

Nico Hulkenberg (highest placing this season)

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Y/n L/n – DNF

Max Verstappen – DNF

Champions Standings:

Max Verstappen – 284 points

Charles Leclerc – 252 points

Lando Norris – 189 points

Y/n L/n – 163 points

Carlos Sainz – 130 points

Oscar Piastri – 107 points

Lewis Hamilton – 93 points

George Russell – 48 points

Alex Albon – 48 points

Fernando Alonso – 45 points

Logan Sargeant – 32 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly - 12 points

Valtteri Bottas – 13 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 447 points

Ferrari – 382 points

McLaren – 270 points

Mercedes – 141 points

Williams – 80 points

Aston Martin – 60 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpha Romeo – 14 points

Alpine – 12 points

Haas – 0 points

Max had gotten a long talking to after everything was over. Christian probably screamed at him for over an hour, plus what GP and then what Mitch had to say after. He had wanted to apologize beforehand, but it seemed as though Arthur didn’t wat Max near you within a 25 foot radius.

And when the Dutchman thought he could speak to you at the hotel, he had to find out the hard way that you had left that afternoon to go back to Monaco before the second Italian Grand Prix. Max huffed as he thought over what he should do.

Just as you had anxiety and guilt about the incident, Max dubbed his as 10 times worse. This was it. In the past, everyone told him that he always messed up teammates for other drivers. That’s why Daniil didn’t work out, or Carlos, or Daniel, or Pierre, or Alex, or Checo. One way or another, Max always fucked it up.

Well, that’s what his mind was telling him.

And he didn’t want you to just be another name to the list.

So with phone in hand, and pilot on call, he made the executive decision to fly back to Monaco. He knew exactly where your apartment was, since you gave me the address when you first moved in and a key for emergencies.

When he landed, he went straight to the grocery store. Knowing that you had the cooking skills of Arthur and Charles combined and the pickiness of Lando amplified, he guessed that you and Arthur probably haven’t had dinner yet. So, he grabbed ingredients to make pizza. Simple enough.

He drove to your flat and was suddenly enveloped with fear. He hit his head on the steering wheel once he parked.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered to himself as he gazed at the lights on in the windows. His head was still on the wheel as he turned to look down. What he failed to notice was you looking through the window.

“Cheri? Is everything alright?” you heard Arthur call out from the kitchen. You two had just burnt some pasta while trying to make dinner. You gazed down at the familiar car parked in front.

“Cheri?”

Now Arthur was close, also looking out the window.

“It’s Max.”

The Monegasque scoffed. “What’s he doing here?”

You hummed. “He’s probably wanting to apologize. I know what he’s like. Thur, he didn’t mean it.”

Arthur’s eyes changed from cold to understanding. He had heard enough stories from his own brother along with gossip in the paddock about Max’s childhood (or lack thereof).

He huffed once before saying, “Go to him and then invite him up.”

He watched as your eyes lit up, before you placed a kiss on his lips. A smile formed on his lips as he watched you slide shoes on and go out the door. Arthur turned back to the kitchen. He guessed he needed to clean up before you invited thee Max Verstappen into the house.

Max was so caught in his head that he missed you peering in. Only when you slightly knocked on the door, did he jump. He accidentally pressed the horn, making it echo down the empty road. He quickly unlocked the door, which let you slip in.

His blue eyes gazed into yours before he started to cry. You looked at him with a frown on your face as he tried to desperately wipe his tears. He took many harsh inhales, trying to get his emotions under control.

Max expected you to yell, scream, and hit at him. Yet, you gently placed a hand on his back and started to comfort him, like he’s done many times before.

You let him cry and cry until he was ready to talk.

“I’m such an asshole,” was the first thing that escaped his lips after his sobs started to break.

You chuckled. “I could have told you that.”

Max’s lips curved upwards in a small smile before going straight once again. He took another shuddering breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to repeat the past. I am so sorry for what I did to you, that was unfair of me. I wanted to apologize before you left, but I was too late. And I didn’t want to end today without apologizing to you. Because I don’t want you to be another teammate that I failed.”

He turned to you, eyes still glossy with leftover tears.

You leaned to give him a hug across the dash, one that he was thankful for.

He was the first one to part, still wiping at his eyes. You only gazed at him with compassion. When he was done sniffling, you started to talk.

“Max, look at me please?”

He turned his head so his bloodshot blue eyes could look at you. He looked utterly exhausted and your heart broke. If he was anything like you, you knew how much guilt he was carrying.

“You’re not, we’re not, going to repeat the past. I just need you to understand that I am your team player. And when I’m given a team order, I will follow it every time.”

Max’s head nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry.”

“I already forgave you before I left the paddock. I heard Christian yelling at you.”

A snort left his nose. “It was probably for the best.”

The car was filled with a comfortable silence before Max broke it.

“Did you and Arthur have dinner yet?”

“Max. What do you think?”

“I’m going to take that as a no. Good think I bought groceries. Seriously, I am getting you and the Leclercs cooking lessons for Christmas.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You almost burnt down my entire kitchen.”

“Not on purpose.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 have pizza, teammate, and bestie - will travel

liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, logansargeant, and 90,294 others

y/n&co guys I was super worried but now I'm perfectly fine

rookie+maxie guys I truly believe that y/n is going to stay his teammate for as long as possible

best_duo frfr - no one has been on his level and he finally has a teammate that can keep up with him

y/n.nation generational talent right there

maxverstappen1 glad I could feed you two

y/n.89 we would have been fine on our own maxverstappen1 sure, after you burnt your food and almost set your apartment on fire y/n.89 hey, Arthur was there too? arthur_leclerc what is with this slander?????

f1_fan guys guys guys, it's the Dutch Grand Prix and then MONZA hello?????

true_tifosi I know I want to see Charles win again, but y/n deserves something

dutch_anthem_on_repeat time for MAX MAX MAX SUPER MAX

orange_army we are ready with flags and capes, bring it on Netherlands!!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

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permanentreverie · 2 years

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The new Tumblr update my behated

#ITS SO UGLY PLS 😫😫#they straight up just got rid of the blue app icon?? tf???#and don't even get me STARTED on the 'view full post' thing THE OPTION IS TURNED OFF IN MY SETTINGS AND YET #like that feature is SO not great for artists 🥴🥴#and like some posts will actually not end? like th just bleed into the next one? like I won't be able to tap on the notifs #or even like/reblog it???#@ staff please make this a functioning website #Lindsay speaks

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jinbugs · 3 months

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VIVERE

“Do you think you deserve it? To be punished?” “I think so, yes.”

A Pathfinder 2e Campaign Introduction Post!

MEET THE PARTY:

REVUN (@dovelydraws)

26 years old

he/they/she

A duel-wielding tiefling fighter. Easy-going freelance mercenary from Alephia, looking for a job that pays well and a little company.

FERRA (@artpepkin)

87 years old

she/her

A beastkin elven rogue from Chiei Thya. Playful vagabond who finds herself wherever the wind takes her. She's maybe gotten herself in a little over her head.

POLITES (@mossy-garden)

17 years old

he/him

A tiefling champion. Proud kingdom guard of Crimyria under the goddess Vildeas, who is willing and anxious to prove himself.

KWAN (@jinbugs)

39 years old

he/they/she

A human investigator. Cunning Po Lian scholar-official informant who is in pursuit of a dangerous secret, the centurion pearl. At any cost.

Glitch (@eternalglitch), our game master, weaves all our loose threads into one coherent story.

One fun rule we’ve incorporated into this campaign: players CANNOT share their character backstories with each other outside of gameplay.

It gives more mystery fun! It’s also driving us insane. Pray for us.

(Map created by @dovelydraws, summary also written by Dove)

A lot has gone into the cultures and politics of each of the countries our characters come from. Enough so that it doesn't make sense to get into all of it on an introductory post! But perhaps later in a reblog.

THE STORY SO FAR…

As of the writing of this post, we have now played 5 sessions of the campaign.

Our party all met each other in the small seaside town of Plumeport, Crimyria. We were all brought together in pursuit of the same thing: a legendary man-eating boar, said to hold the power of immortality.

It is believed that consuming the flesh of this boar would grant eternal life, and even just a bit of its fur or blood can extend a person's life, for a time. The King of Crimyria himself has offered whoever can take down this boar a large sum of wealth and a small offering of its blood for personal consumption. He wants the job to be done in time for the Crimyrian Festival of Flight, in a couple months time.

The bounty on the boar's head has drawn adventurers from all over the continent, but none so far have been able to take it down. Many have lost their lives. While each of our party members have their own reasons for wanting to take on this job, Kwan has a very personal stake in their success.

He has, reluctantly, revealed that he once knew the boar before it obtained the power it has today. He has reason to believe it has swallowed something once known as a centurion pearl: a powerful artifact that caused the fall of a once great kingdom, and threw the continent into tumultuous conflict. Kwan is adamant that this power should not be handed over to any king. Once it is killed, they want to extract the pearl from its body to make sure it can never fall into the wrong hands.

So far, Kwan has only revealed this to Revun. Polites, meanwhile, works directly under the king and wants to succeed on this mission to make him proud. Ferra seems to only be interested in the money and adventure. Revun has also said they were in this for the money, but vaguely admitted to Kwan that they also had their own personal reasons to go after the boar, and if he truly believes its power is too dangerous, they will follow his lead.

Once faced with the boar, however, the party was unprepared and outmatched. It was massive, its eyes as large as their heads, emanating a golden glow. It moved unlike a normal animal, and seemingly bore a higher level of intelligence than it should.

After a deceptively strong start, Polites went down in battle, and they were all forced to run to ensure everyone's survival. Before retreating though, Kwan shot the boar with a strange arrow, claiming they would be able to track it again later.

The party camped outside of the marsh, unable to sleep while waiting for Polites to wake up. They discussed next steps- going back to the city to regroup, get proper healing, and perhaps find a sponsor to help them in their next try. They still have a few weeks to get things figured out.

And that's all, so far! We're all pretty stoked and making tons of art and written works, so keep a look out, we might publish a zine when the sessions start wrapping up. Bye-bye, for now!

#vivere campaign #pathfinder #ttrpg #dnd #revun #ferra #polites #kwan

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hathorik · 5 months

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PALESTINIAN GENOCIDE: WAR CRIMES MASTER POST

The goal of this post is to keep track of all the war crimes as recognized by the UN's Office on Genocide Prevention and the Responsibility to Protect committed by Israeli authority and military against the Palestinian, Syrian and Lebanese people, and which remain unpunished by international authorities.

The ICC is not doing its job. It has failed its mission. It's up to us to push for Israel to be held accountable.

Feel free to comment, I'll feel free to delete the Zionist propaganda. I can't help it, I'm allergic to Nazis. Don't ask for "reliable" western media sources either; you can just open your eyes. I promise you it's better to see things as they are.

Everything under the cut is the material present on the UN's Office on Genocide Prevention and the Responsibility to Protect website as of 12/11th. Just go check it yourself if you need. Crimes in bold and red are those identified as committed. I'd love to keep tracks of numbers but... they are overwhelming. I can't. I don't think anyone can.

Paragraphs 2.c, 2.d, 2.e, 2.f and 3 are repeats of the previous but applicable to "armed conflicts not of an international character" and details to take into account in such cases. For the sake of brevity, they will be skipped and instances applicable will be reported in the previous instances of said crimes.

If you find other crimes (or victims) that need to be accounted for, please send a screenshot or a link to the source material along with the paragraph number (X.Y.Z.) and I'll be happy to oblige. You can also just bring up cases applying to a certain paragraph the same way; I don't mind a comment section filled with proof.

This post will be reblogged every 12 hours and updated when I'm able to do so.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.

Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court

Article 8 War Crimes

1. The Court shall have jurisdiction in respect of war crimes in particular when committed as part of a plan or policy or as part of a large-scale commission of such crimes.

2. For the purpose of this Statute, ‘war crimes’ means:

2.a. Grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, namely, any of the following acts against persons or property protected under the provisions of the relevant Geneva Convention:

2.a.i. Wilful killing;

2.a.ii. Torture or inhuman treatment, including biological experiments;

2.a.iii. Wilfully causing great suffering, or serious injury to body or health;

2.a.iv. Extensive destruction and appropriation of property, not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully and wantonly;

2.a.v. Compelling a prisoner of war or other protected person to serve in the forces of a hostile Power;

2.a.vi. Wilfully depriving a prisoner of war or other protected person of the rights of fair and regular trial;

2.a.vii. Unlawful deportation or transfer or unlawful confinement;

2.a.viii. Taking of hostages.

2.b. Other serious violations of the laws and customs applicable in international armed conflict, within the established framework of international law, namely, any of the following acts:

2.b.i. Intentionally directing attacks against the civilian population as such or against individual civilians not taking direct part in hostilities;

2.b.ii. Intentionally directing attacks against civilian objects, that is, objects which are not military objectives;

2.b.iii. Intentionally directing attacks against personnel, installations, material, units or vehicles involved in a humanitarian assistance or peacekeeping mission in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations, as long as they are entitled to the protection given to civilians or civilian objects under the international law of armed conflict;

2.b.iv. Intentionally launching an attack in the knowledge that such attack will cause incidental loss of life or injury to civilians or damage to civilian objects or widespread, long-term and severe damage to the natural environment which would be clearly excessive in relation to the concrete and direct overall military advantage anticipated;

2.b.v. Attacking or bombarding, by whatever means, towns, villages, dwellings or buildings which are undefended and which are not military objectives;

2.b.vi. Killing or wounding a combatant who, having laid down his arms or having no longer means of defence, has surrendered at discretion;

2.b.vii. Making improper use of a flag of truce, of the flag or of the military insignia and uniform of the enemy or of the United Nations, as well as of the distinctive emblems of the Geneva Conventions, resulting in death or serious personal injury;

2.b.viii. The transfer, directly or indirectly, by the Occupying Power of parts of its own civilian population into the territory it occupies, or the deportation or transfer of all or parts of the population of the occupied territory within or outside this territory;

2.b.ix. Intentionally directing attacks against buildings dedicated to religion, education, art, science or charitable purposes, historic monuments, hospitals and places where the sick and wounded are collected, provided they are not military objectives;

2.b.x. Subjecting persons who are in the power of an adverse party to physical mutilation or to medical or scientific experiments of any kind which are neither justified by the medical, dental or hospital treatment of the person concerned nor carried out in his or her interest, and which cause death to or seriously endanger the health of such person or persons;

2.b.xi. Killing or wounding treacherously individuals belonging to the hostile nation or army;

2.b.xii. Declaring that no quarter will be given;

2.b.xiii. Destroying or seizing the enemy's property unless such destruction or seizure be imperatively demanded by the necessities of war;

2.b.xiv. Declaring abolished, suspended or inadmissible in a court of law the rights and actions of the nationals of the hostile party;

2.b.xv. Compelling the nationals of the hostile party to take part in the operations of war directed against their own country, even if they were in the belligerent's service before the commencement of the war;

2.b.xvi. Pillaging a town or place, even when taken by assault;

2.b.xvii. Employing poison or poisoned weapons;

2.b.xviii. Employing asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases, and all analogous liquids, materials or devices;

2.b.xix. Employing bullets which expand or flatten easily in the human body, such as bullets with a hard envelope which does not entirely cover the core or is pierced with incisions;

2.b.xx. Employing weapons, projectiles and material and methods of warfare which are of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering or which are inherently indiscriminate in violation of the international law of armed conflict, provided that such weapons, projectiles and material and methods of warfare are the subject of a comprehensive prohibition and are included in an annex to this Statute, by an amendment in accordance with the relevant provisions set forth in articles 121 and 123;

2.b.xxi. Committing outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment;

2.b.xxii. Committing rape, sexual slavery, enforced prostitution, forced pregnancy, as defined in article 7, paragraph 2 (f), enforced sterilization, or any other form of sexual violence also constituting a grave breach of the Geneva Conventions;

2.b.xxiii. Utilizing the presence of a civilian or other protected person to render certain points, areas or military forces immune from military operations;

2.b.xxiv. Intentionally directing attacks against buildings, material, medical units and transport, and personnel using the distinctive emblems of the Geneva Conventions in conformity with international law;

2.b.xxv. Intentionally using starvation of civilians as a method of warfare by depriving them of objects indispensable to their survival, including wilfully impeding relief supplies as provided for under the Geneva Conventions;

2.b.xxvi. Conscripting or enlisting children under the age of fifteen years into the national armed forces or using them to participate actively in hostilities.

#Palestine #Israel #United Nations #FREE PALESTINE #War Crimes #Palestinian Genocide #Israel is a terrorist state

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parlerenfleurs · 2 months

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In the notes of the previous post I've reblogged I saw a discussion about why Ringo isn't considered (by the fandom) as a romantic interest for Mizu despite treating her better than all the other men in her life, and how this is tied to fatphobia. Also the fact that the fat character is often the comic-relief and the fact that if he is indeed intended as platonic why make him the only fat (="unattractive") man among the three (others being Taigen and Mikio) that can or have been considered love interests for her?

And that's really interesting because indeed, I never considered Ringo a potential love-interest for Mizu... And so I have to wonder if it's because he's fat. But I also never saw him as a comic-relief character, and I want to expand on why first.

He is indeed funny, and brings levity. But it's not "comic-relief", it's "positivity-relief", in my eyes. I don't feel like we're supposed to take him unseriously at all. Characters take him unseriously, sure, because of his social class, his disability, his seemingly naïve and weak character (never his size, in any case).

But the story shows, and Mizu comes to know, that he's anything but weak and naïve. We know right from the start that he's endured a terrible childhood and life up until meeting Mizu. He doesn't have hands, his father is abusive both physically and psychologically. The way the flesh-trader mistreats him in the first episode isn't anything unusual to Ringo. Everyone despises him and feels free to exert force against him. Taigen in his arrogance, deigns offer him a menial job in his household with the condescension reserved for a nobody who is also a child, or mentally a child.

Ringo was forged at this cruel relentless fire and what came out is a formidable strength. It doesn't manifest itself as obviously as Mizu's but it's, in my opinion, superior, and also extremely great and loveable. Ringo is neither naïve nor stupid. He knows when he's being beaten and condescended to. He's like that because, in spite of everything, he wants to see beauty in everything, and enjoy the good things in life, and he chooses to be kind. He CHOOSES to be kind. With an unbreakable, fluid, infinitely bending strength.

I am not well-versed enough in Japanese culture to make a meaningful comment about this, probably, but my personal reading of Ringo is that he might be a Buddha figure. East of India, the Buddha is fat. The Buddha smiles serenely, even in adversity, because he's reached a state of zen. His ego isn't touched by insults and beatings. Of course Ringo prefers to be treated well, like anyone else! That's why he follows Mizu around! She's an outcast and "deformed" like him, but she's also able to hold her own against physical violence, against the tyrants of the world, and that obviously appeals to him.

He kills, he has sex, he likes good food, he's obviously not detached from the world at all. But still, like a Buddha, his sense of self cannot be shaken by outside mockery or hostility. He's incredibly persistent once he has a goal, but he doesn't bother affirming himself to others for the sake of ego. He's the polar opposite of Taigen in that respect. Taigen's background has made him desperate for outside sources of strength - admiration, prestige, money, social standing...

On the other hand Ringo is really similar to Mizu, a thing he sees immediately but she does not. Hers is an inner unbreakable strength, too. The same fluid, adaptable, water-like strength. Can't break water. It will shape itself around you and your obstacles without ever losing its nature.

But contrary to Ringo, Mizu feels all the pain, the slights, the shame, the self-hatred. Ringo is pure love, or water, not poisoned by betrayal. Perhaps, or even probably, he has been betrayed but he hasn't let it poison his love, his water nature.

Even when Mizu betrays his love (respect, admiration, regard), he's no pushover, he lets her know that he won't stand for it, but still he rescues her because... despite everything his love is still pure. His love is the agape kind. He loves life, he obviously loves himself. There is no shame or shrinking of the self in him. No shame of his body, among other things. He's the only one in the main cast who doesn't wear a mask. What you see is what you get, and it's only people's own preconceptions that blind them to his depth and merit.

On the subject of fatness, I'm not sure he's even really... considered fat, in-universe? Or not negatively so, in any case. When Akemi has to serve her first client, HE is called fat by the characters. Fat enough to crush someone, and to hinder his own libido - the fatness of being extremely rich and eating too much rich food while being extremely idle. This one has the prostitutes reluctant, and his fatness is viewed in a negative light. Ringo has a very pleasant and cordial interaction with the two prostitutes who service him, and sure we're not privy to their thoughts on the matter, but I bet they found him cute, polite, not troublesome at all to service, and I feel like his size wasn't even a question that was posed. We see him naked, running around, carrying things, and being extremely active. His is a common build, sturdy, not a hindrance to his libido, his health, his self-image, or anything. What I mean is, he's not presented to us in a negative way on account of his fatness, and isn't viewed negatively for it in-universe.

All of this to say, I might indeed be blind to his potential as a love interest to Mizu, but I'm not sure it just has to do with the fact he's fat? It might be! I don't know. The first thing I think about on why I don't ship them is they show no romantic or sexual interest in each other that I see. Except, perhaps, that it might be significant that she's the one to arrange his first sexual experience and that it's the framework he has when seeing her naked. But as his attitude remains strictly the same and he shows no change in the kind of interest he has for her, it didn't feel significant to me. I might be wrong, I don't know. But again, Taigen is the opposite: he might be bi, but let's say he isn't, or at least isn't aware of it (I would be sad if he's not but it would better serve the parallel if he's straight) - the guy shows unmistakable chemistry with, and attraction to Mizu without even knowing she's got peaches underneath it all. (I love that he feels attraction to her at the precise moment where she's her playful self again: wrestling, battling and winning, while laughing and having fun... everything that Mikio couldn't handle is the very thing Taigen feels attracted to, aaah so good.)

When I think about it, the loyal, protective role Ringo has, where he saves her physically and emotionally, cares for her, protects her secret, admires her for who she is as a whole, his place as the person who sees the most of her without rejecting a single part of it, should indeed make me feral....

But if he's the opposite to Taigen in so many ways, he might be in this too, in that he has no attraction to Mizu, and they've no such chemistry between them. It's also so lovely as a platonic relationship! For once it is! He's her apprentice, after all, and she takes on the Swordfather role for him as Swordfather did for her (she even used the same persistent-as-hell-I-will-stay-look-I'm-useful method as Ringo did on her - when I say they're so similar...). She used to make noise to signal things to Swordfather and she makes Ringo make noise so that she can keep track of him, too. It's very cute! He uses her kitchen knives and she makes him start to fight with that just like she started to forge by forging them. To me, they're firmly in this master-apprentice dynamic. And friends.

I've said repeatedly that he's not naïve but actually in some ways he is, and that's what Mizu needs more of. She needs to reconnect with that younger, less hurt version of herself. And Ringo helps her with it, because she does ask for his help, does recognise she needs it (healing!) when she asks him to write on her back. He literally has her back. He's his own character, his own person, but they mirror each other a lot, and in some ways he's her master too. A master in gentleness.

Oh. I've said that Ringo's love/water is pure, but that it HAS been touched by the poison that affects Mizu: he's a better sword, has a better strength because he let the impurity be a part of him, didn't push it away or let it consume and change him. No wonder she must learn from him/needs his help to forge her new sword.

IF the story started signaling attraction between them, I don't think it would occur to me that Ringo is fat or anything (or it wouldn't have before, now I'll pay attention to that). It didn't occur to me when he was with the prostitutes, I was only thinking about the fact he has no hands, but the prostitutes shrugged it off with grace, and it made me happy.

#Blue eye samurai #Ringo bes

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months

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Career Guidance + Messages 💼🥂🌃

Hi friends! Welcome to another PAC post 💌💖 thank you all for supporting me! We’re going to be getting you some career advice + messages regarding that! Happy picking ✨🌹

Pile 1: 9 of pentacles • The Tower • King Of Swords

Hi there pile 1’s! 💗🤗 Welcome to your reading. For some of ya’ll, maybe you received a short notice you were fired? Or for someone tried to either gossip about you, or fire you. Or cause some sort of situation at work where your reputation could’ve been damaged. Im sorry if that did happen pile 1’s, I do see you’re caring for yourself and currently living in your own world 💅🏻 as you should! If you got fired spirit is saying you didn’t deserve that, and you may actually have a chance to get a better job, a job you actually love and feel comfortable with. Im getting this massive download that some of ya’ll were waiting for someone or a group of people to receive their karma? They may have done you dirty in the past and now you’ve seen them receive it. I feel like spirit is saying continue caring for yourself, and if you’ve been losing sleep over finding another job, attract that opportunity 💗 spirit will make it known to you. You will rebuild after a loss or stagnation in your career and your reputation will improve. There is some sort of truth that this person or group hid that’ll bite them in the ass is what I heard 👀 pile 1’s, I hope this resonated for you. And I hope you can move on and do whats best for you to move forward in peace and love 🤍

Pile 2: King of Pentacles • Ace of wands • 5 of wands

Hi there pile 2’s! Welcome to your reading 💗🤗 I see you are financially stable or are reaching a point of stability and I heard this was a long time coming! You’ve been working your butt off is also what I heard, and you’ve faced many days and nights with conflict, issues and petty drama. Spirit is saying things will solidify and take a more consistent approach in your career, and your passion for life and making money will return. Some of ya’ll may actually enjoy the rush, you feel motivated and inspired to take action and maybe your next job/career will require you to be physically active. Or maybe it already does. But spirit is saying you may receive a bonus or promotion soon for your hard work! You will be recognized! 💗 I also see a lot of other people trying to one up you, so maybe this was an issue you faced in your career. People may have tried to compete against you and show off, but at the end you’ll be receiving a beautiful reward with recognition 🤍 and your own money is a sign of how much you’ve worked too so be proud! Spirit is very proud of you 🤗 make sure to rest and not burn yourself out as well, if you’ve been working a lot pile 2’s. Thank you for reading & please feel free to comment like or reblog! Have a great one 💗

Pile 3: 4 of pentacles • Page of cups • 3 of cups

Hi there pile 3’s! 🤗 welcome! I see for a while ya’ll have been saving up and now have an opportunity to spend on a night out 👀 you may get to know your coworkers a lot more and make friends! I see its a time for celebration too, so maybe you hit your goal amount either now, or in the future and you’ll want to celebrate with the people around you 💗 wonderful job pile 3’s! There may be a party at work or around you. For guidance, I feel that its important to get out there and get to know who is around you and what, especially if you’ve been focused on work for a while. Emotionally it’ll help you feel less pressured and more comfortable. I think you are the pile to stay alone and reserved, and thats understandable! So it may take some time for you to open up but I see plenty opportunities to get to know coworkers 🤗 you may also have a new coworker joining in! Someone you’ll get along greatly with and have fun with at work. I also feel some of yall have been saving up to be able to buy your sibling or friend a beautiful gift and now you can surprise them! I love this and I think they’ll love the gift, especially since its from you 🤍 for some of yall specifically that’ll resonate. Overall, work will improve and become fun if things have been stagnant or slow! Enjoy pile 3’s and please feel free to comment, reblog and like 💗

Pile 4: The Lovers • Ace of pentacles • 6 of cups

Hi there pile 4’s! 🤗 honestly this is such a sweet but hot and heavy energy 👀 I heard you’ll possibly be partnering up with someone of your dreams… romantically speaking. They may come in the form of a coworker, partner of some kind. But they will have lots of resources, money and resources to help you with any project, or anything! This could be a romantic opportunity as well, and a chance to bond with someone at work. They’ll help you financially and in some other ways…👀 is what I heard. I also heard you’re getting all in one 😂 whoever this person is, they’re cheeky and mischievous, but hella charming. And very smart. You’ll be getting a bonus or promotion soon! And will approach financial stability in the future. I see lots of cute moments and overall you’ll be enjoying your time at work. You’ll be feeling lighter, joyful, happy and expressive with the people around you. You’ll be feeling connected to what it is you do! This person could also show you another job opportunity too, so maybe some of yall are unhappy with your current job and this person comes in and gives you another reason to like them 😂 (another job) omg they’re so smooth and quick with it! Major flirt. Enjoy pile 4’s 👀 feel free to comment, like and reblog 💅🏻🤍

Thank ya’ll for reading! Feel free to like comment and reblog 🌟💗 thank ya’ll for the support! This was so much fun to do.

Paid Readings 🌟🤍

#devi post #astrology #astrology community #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #tarot #witchcraft #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #tarotdaily #tarot witch #daily tarot #tarot community

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masterjedilenawrites · 13 days

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Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start.

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside.

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted.

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Bad Batch Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22, @dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #crosshair #crosshair x reader #fluff #angst #romance #cloneficgiftexchange #hunter #wrecker #echo #tech

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cdragons · 4 months

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Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter One

Prologue

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Aemond is delulu, tiny!Jace is delulu, Dark Themes, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the amazing support for this story's prologue, I did NOT expect so many positive reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a ton of applications and finals. But since I am on winter break, hopefully I will be able to upload more fics! Happy Holidays and big shoutout to @valeskafics, who continues to be the HOTD fanfic writing ICON that we all know and love! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.

You have known your entire life that you were going to be one of the many seamstresses that serviced the Royal Family.

By the age of three, your mother would teach you how to begin your very first stitches, which soon shifted to learning the most complicated patterns of embroidery. You still remember the tears in her eyes as you presented the silk-woven handkerchief that had lovely little purple and blue flowers embroidered on the borders for her birthday. Your face flushed to an almost too bright red when she insisted on showing all the other royal seamstresses and tailors your first handkerchief. But it made you smile in remembering how big her smile was that week, as she was so pleased by how much you’ve progressed at such a young age.

When you were only six, your mother had begun to teach you how to properly extract the dye from beautiful flowers and the scales of brightly-colored insects. So skilled and nimble were your fingers that you even gave your childhood playmate, Aemond Targaryen, a thick green wool cloak with green and silver dragon embroidery. The cloak’s wool had been dyed by your hand with copious amounts of goldenrod and indigo flowers. You then carefully stitched silk to line the inside of the cloak to prevent him from overheating, as even the harshest winters in the Crownlands were hardly anything compared to the summers in the North. It had caught you off-guard in the almost too-tight embrace he locked you in, but you eagerly reciprocated as you could tell he appreciated the gift more than words could describe.

It was not just a gift for is name-day from a childhood companion, but also a way to reassure him that he will one day have a dragon. And even if the gods do not grant him worthy in their eyes, he would always be considered a prince worthy of the Targaryen name in yours. After all, there were not many princes that would willingly spend all their free time with a lowly seamstress’ daughter – even if the supposed seamstress that was your mother was so heavily favored by the Queen.

“Pearl,” came a voice with a tone far too serious despite its youth, “what are you doing in the Godswood?”

You lifted your head from old tome you were studying, only to see a young boy of only nine name-days, that stood as straight as one of the stone pillars that stood in the Sept of Baelor. His white locks nearly blinded you with how the sunshine seemed to reflect on them.

“Well my prince, as you can clearly see, I have decided to take advantage of this fine day to do a bit of studying of my own.” You lifted the near ancient tome on your lap to show him the title, Myths and Legends of the Jade Seas.

Whatever outwardly beauty the book possessed had long diminished, the spine was bent from the hundreds of hours spent looking through its contents and the letters were near faded to a dull grey as the pages yellowed from age. But the colors of the ink remained as vibrant as when they were first painted on the frail sheets, accompanied by beautiful imagery of magical dragons and elusive mermaids. The details were so fine and intricate that it felt as if you only needed to touch the ink in order to be transported into the stories. You remembered how you begged either your mother or father to read it to you every night, as utterly transfixed by the colors back then as you remained so now.

“You are more than welcome to join me, but if – and only if – you share one of those apples hiding in your knapsack.”

Finally showing an expression appropriate for his age, the young prince reached in his pouch to show two gorgeous apples – the skin was practically gleaming in the sun as your mouth watered for its taste. Aemond handed one to you as he sat by your side underneath the plentiful shade of the heart tree. Scooting over to make room on the overgrown root you sat on, you eagerly showed him strange text.

“Look Aemond!” you exclaimed as you shoved the book to his nose. “This book says that there were dragons in Yi Ti! Isn’t that amazing?”

Aemond looked at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads and five eyes. “How can there be dragons in Yi Ti? All the dragons save the ones in the dragonpit and the rocky shores of Dragonstone had perished in The Doom that sunk Valyria. Everyone knows that pearl.”

“These dragons are different! According to my kepa, Yi Ti dragons don’t even need wings to fly!”

The young prince rolled his eyes at that. “How could they fly if they don’t have wings? Even Carraxes the Blood Wrym has wings, and he looks like an overgrown red snake.” Honestly, his pearl could be so silly. “Besides, what would your father know? He’s a bastard from the Iron Islands, that’s nowhere near the Jade Seas.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “He heard so on his travels with Lord Velaryon and Prince Laenor! Apparently, these dragons use magic and live in the ocean. And they don’t even breathe fire! They make it rain and control the oceans!”

“…Pearl, I think you’ve been spending too much time making those dyes. The fumes must have gotten to your head.”

You openly gaped at your friend’s comment, completely in shock for how blatantly he dismissed you. It made you want to pound your fists on his person until he took it back. So naturally, you did just that.

“Aemond Targaryen, you take that back right now!” you shrieked. Although your actions told otherwise, the smile on your face showed that you took no true offense to his words. If anything, it pleased you to know that you could still make the stone-faced prince giggle as a boy should at his age.

“Never!”

As the two of you giggled and played, several pairs of wandering eyes spied and grimaced at the distasteful display. Although your friendship with the next generation of the royal family was no secret, much of the court disapproved of how highly the royal family thought of you and Prince Aemond’s friendship. After all, he was the second born prince of House Targaryen, born of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. By the time the Targaryen prince could toddle, great things were expected from him. From a very early age, he immersed himself in his studies befitting of a prince of Westeros. You, on the other hand, were only the daughter of a seamstress and a bastard knight who became a lord of a holding so minor that it had no name. You only skills were that you could make pretty dye, and stitch pretty pictures with a needle and thread.

But he always treated you kindly and defended you whenever his eldest brother decided to use you as his latest target for mockery. You were a precious pearl – his precious pearl – Aegon may be his brother, but he could never love Aegon as much as he loved you. True, your father being a bastard did you no favors in the Red Keep’s court, but Aemond would never tell you that himself. Instead, he openly acknowledged his bravery and commended his loyalty to the Crown. After all, how many bastards can boast that they saved the Lord Corlys Velaryon, holder of the Driftwood Throne, from a siege of pirates during one of the lord’s many voyages to Essos?

In turn, you always made sure to provide comfort and support whenever his brother and nephews decided to pick on him. Without fail, he would seek out your company – his eyes red and puffy, while his cheeks were wet from hastily wiped tears. You would take his hands and the two of you would venture out to the library’s more secluded sections. You made sure to pack whatever you have been working on with you. While you were glad that he came to you for comfort, it would do little good for either of you if you were to be punished for not completing whatever tasks your mother assigned you.

“Who cares if you don’t have a dragon?” you once asked him as the two of you laid next to each other, surrounded by books. “There are plenty members of the Targaryen line that did not have dragons, but they still lived out important lives in serving their family however they could. King Jaehaerys was considered a great ruler for how he served the realm– not for riding Vermithor. And even if you had a dragon, is that all you wish to be known for? Your grandfather, Baelon the Brave, was wise and beloved by the small folk for how he tried to make their lives easier. But all he is known for in history books is how he burned down Dorne with Vhagar.”

“Better to be known for a dragon than to disappear, not being known for anything – not even a dragon worthy of the Targaryen name.”

Sitting up against a bookshelf, you repositioned Aemond to lie his head on your thighs. Luckily the candlelight made the area dark enough so that you wouldn’t see his ears turning red. Instead, he buried his face in the soft cotton of your blue tunic as you stroked his soft silver white locks. Although his heart was beating erratically, your sweet scent along with your body’s suppleness was enough to take away any ire left in him.

“Stop that,” you ordered, “you will not be forgotten, don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes softening at his tense shoulders, you eased on the sternness of your tone. “Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.”

You pretended not to notice how tightly he clenched your dress as you ignored the how warm the spot where his hot tears grew.

As you continued to stroke his hair, Aemond made a silent vow that when he finally claimed a dragon, you would be the first person he would ride it with. He thought about how his bastard nephews would always try to take you from him, especially Jace, how he despised that boy. No, your touches would belong to him, and only him. Your sweet words and kind demeanor were his to cherish. You were his pearl – his pearl – and no one else’s, especially not the pretend Targaryen that was Jacaerys Strong.

Yes, it pleased Aemond to know that he was your best friend. But sometimes it frustrated him in how you refused to take him seriously as a man. For example, he once announced that when he claimed his dragon, he would finally be a noble dragon knight who would protect you from the most vicious of beasts. No matter how he insisted on his sincerity, you only rolled your eyes at the proclamation. You told him that you had no need for a knight, let alone a dragon knight. You had your dearest kepa for protection, and there was no finer knight in all the Seven Kingdoms in your eyes. So silly was his pearl indeed.

“Ashi’!” a new voice called out, interrupting the comfortable silence between him and his pearl. It belonged to the king’s eldest grandson, Prince Jacaerys Strong Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne after his mother, Princess Rhaenyra. “Your mother is looking for you! She said that she needs your help with Mother’s clothes!”

“Alright!” When you stood from you spot, you made sure to brush away any dirt or debris left on your skirts. You gathered your mother’s book in both arms when you made your way to the prince. “But why did my muña not send one of her attendants instead? It would not have been difficult to find me. Everyone knows that I enjoy reading under the Hearts Tree in the Godswood during my spare time. Are you not busy with your own duties, my prince?”

Straightening his posture to appear taller, Jace did his best to sound as authoritative as his father had taught him. “I just finished my lessons for the morning, and I volunteered to escort you. Besides, I figured that it would do me some good in practicing escorting you. I’ll need to do it in the future when I am king after my mother.” His round freckled cheeks reddened to a rosy hue at that last part.

Not at all catching the terribly obvious implication, you shrugged off his words as you figured that he meant that he was using you as practice for whichever future noble lady he would court in the future. However, the suggestion was not at all lost on your friend, who was still sitting on the overgrown root, glaring at his eldest nephew with a fury that rivaled the Great Doom that sunk Valyria.

“Well, we should be on our way then. Come on Aemond, we should get going!” You held out your held for your friend to hold on to, but were quickly interrupted by the brown-haired Targaryen at the side.

“He can’t! I mean-” stammered Jace as did his best in thinking of an excuse, “-I’m afraid my uncle cannot join us. You see, um – his mother, the Queen, requested his presence in her solar.”

“I’m sure my mother won’t mind waiting for a few moments while I join you in escorting my pearl to her favorite friend, nephew.” This wasn’t a lie on Aemond’s part. While he didn’t like the idea in keeping his mother waiting for him, he despised the thought of you being alone with the Strong Knight’s eldest bastard even more. Besides, his mother adored you as if you were her own daughter. It would have gone without saying that she would be happy with her son spending time with her best friend’s daughter.

“But why would you want to risk it, uncle?” Jacaerys wasn’t going to let his selfish uncle hog all of your attention. You were his friend too! It wasn’t fair that he had find crumbs of your time and affections, while his uncle got to feast on your smiles and laughter. He had spent hours with the dragon keepers of the dragonpit to help him train Vermax, all so that he could finally show you how close he was in riding him! But you were always too busy comforting his stupid dragonless uncle!

Enough was enough. Jacaerys may have been a Velaryon like his father, but he was also a Targaryen like his mother. It was he who carried the dragon’s blood, and dragons took what they desired or felt what they deserved. And he desrved to be with you more than Aemond.

“It’s alright Aemond, we’ll talk more later! Let’s go Jace, we shouldn’t keep our mothers waiting any more than we have.” Grabbing his hand before walking out of the gardens, you weren’t able to see the younger prince throw a triumphant smirk to his uncle before once more facing you with the story of how Luke accidentally got egg in his hair.

Watching his literal bastard of a nephew walk hand-in-hand away with his pearl, Aemond Targaryen felt his fury grow more potent with each step. He hated that you called his nephew by his nickname, all while he had none. What’s worse was the fact that you allowed him to refer to you as “Ashi.” What a ridiculous name, only a lowborn such as his nephew would refer to someone as precious as you as something as study and simple like “Ashi.” You were a pearl – his pearl, in fact. A fact that he felt was important to emphasize as he watched your head being thrown back in laughter. His anger grew to an all-time high when he watched you ruffle Jacaery’s hair with abundant affection.

Not wanting to make a scene, he walked to his mother’s chambers in fuming silence. While her presence wasn’t yours, maybe he could think of a plan to get you away from his whore of a sister and her illegitimate offspring.

If worse comes to worst, he might need to recruit his sister to his cause. He knew that Helaena would especially be thrilled in receiving your presence. You were the only one besides your parents that did not treat his beloved sister like an oddity. If you were not with Aemond, you were often found stitching with the young princess. It seemed that you were the only person in the entire world that could get her to smile.

Such a sweet girl, his pearl. Someone so kind was not meant to endure the presence of lowly bastards – even if they did technically carry royal blood.

He needed to come up with something fast.

Translations:

“Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.” - “You’re brilliant. I’ve never met anyone else who can speak such fluent High Valyrian, especially at your age. You can solve problems that Aegon has trouble with during your lessons with the Maester. Aemond, you are my best friend. Don’t say that you will be forgotten.”

Tagging:

@valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd au #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x oc #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #reader insert

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code-es · 1 year

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The women who laid the foundation of tech

EDIT: I noticed that this post ended up being reblogged by terfs. If you're transphobic this post is not for you to reblog. I want to celebrate everyone who is not a cis man in this industry, including trans women and nonbinary people in tech, and it was my mistake to only include cis women in this post when there are so many trans women and nonbinary people who have done great things in tech as well. Trans women are women and just as important.

Here you can read about trans ppl in tech, and please do:

https://www.thecodingspace.com/blog/2022-03-01-six-trans-programmers-who-shattered-the-lavender-ceiling/

https://abcnews.go.com/Business/transgender-tech-visibility-obstacles-remain/story?id=76374628

The morning of women's day i attended a super inspiring seminar about being a woman in tech at a large tech company in my city, and now I'm inspired to share what I learned with all of you!

I didn't have time to finish this post on women's day, but it's not too late to post now: every day is a day to celebrate women!

Women actually laid the foundation for a lot of the tech industry.

For example, the first computer, ENIAC, was programmed completely by women! While men were the behind the scenes engineers, it was women who did all the actual programming of ENIAC.

The women who made up the team responsible for programming it were called Jean Bartik, Kay McNulty, Betty Holberton, Marlyn Wescoff, Frances V. Spence and Ruth Teitelbaum.

I think one woman who is finally getting her overdue recognition is Ada Lovelace. She was a mathematician (also often referred to as the first programmer) who created the first algorithm in 1842, which wasn't recognized until 1953! However, since none of her machines were ever completed it was never tested in practice during her time.

She has since been celebrated by giants such as google, and she has given name to a programming language (Ada). She was also the first person to write about what is today known as AI. Back when she was practicing, computers were simply thought of as calculators. But she had an idea that if computers can understand numbers, then that can be translated to letters, and in turn that can lead to computers being able to handle words, and eventually even write, draw and create music.

Hedy Lamarr was a famous Hollywood actress in the 40's, but she was also an inventor who laid ground for what we use today for Wi-Fi, Bluetooth and GPS services.

During WW2 she wanted to contribute positviely to the military efforts against the Nazis, and she tried to figure out how to radio control torpedoes. In 1942 she patented her technology "Secret Communications System", also known as frequency hopping, which laid the foundation for the technology we use today for Wi-Fi, GPS and Bluetooth. It wasn't until 1962 that it was first used for its intended purpose, during the cuban missile crisis.

Grace Hopper invented the first compiler, called A-0, in 1955, and was also part of the Univac team, which was the company also responsible for building ENIAC. She also initiated work on the COBOL programming language.

She was also the one to coin the term "bug" in 1947. Computers back then had lights to visualize their working process (which was also a womans idea to implement btw) and bugs would be attracted to the lights, but usually that was no issue - until a bug made its way into a tube which caused the computer to stop working. Hopper taped the bug to a piece of paper and logged what caused the crash - a bug.

Dorothy Vaughan (left), alongside colleagues such as Katherine Johnson (middle) and Mary Jackson (right), was a mathematician at NASA (called NACA when she started) who worked on the orbit for the first ever manned spaceflight and later also on Apollo 11 that would take humanity to the moon!

When Vaughan started at what was then called NACA, segregation was still prevalent in the US and she was not allowed in the same areas in the office as her white colleagues. Another department was formed for the black staff, and when the director of said department unexpectedly died, she was appointed as the new director and thus became the first ever black woman at that position at NACA/NASA. In 1958 when NACA becomes NASA segregation is forbidden, and that is when Vaughan and her colleagues Johnson and Jackson started working on programming the orbit and later also Apollo 11.

Continuing on the same track of NASA and space, Margaret Hamilton was the Apollo project's first actual programmer. Hamilton became the director of software engineering at NASA in 1965, and she was also the person to first coin the term !

In the image above, she stands next to all the handwritten code that was used to send humanity to the moon. During the early stages of the project when she would speak of "sofware engineering", software development was not taken as seriously as other forms of engineering, and it wasn't regarded as a science, either. She wanted to legitimize software development as an engineering discipline, and overtime the term "software engineering" gained the same respect as any other technical discipline.

And lastly, if you're a woman in STEM, I want to highlight and celebrate you! Being a woman in a male dominated industry is not easy, we often suffer from sterotype threat and are not seen as our own individuals, but rather "the woman" in a room full of men. But just as these women, I'm sure you will achieve greatness!!

Here are some additional resources if you'd like to learn more:

https://www.history.com/news/coding-used-to-be-a-womans-job-so-it-was-paid-less-and-undervalued

https://digitalfuturesociety.com/programming-when-did-womens-work-become-a-mans-world/

And this was mainly my source for this post, but it's unfortunately only available in Swedish:

Thank you for reading ✨

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daarka · 1 year

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For those late to the party who want to know what the hell is going on with #OpenDnD, #StoptheSub, #DnDBegone etc, and why everyone is cancelling DnDBeyond subscriptions, I tried to do a crash course as succinctly as possible. OpenDnD.Games is a great resource for more in-depth details, and if you wish to do so, you can cancel your DnDBeyond subscription through this direct link (as there have been many reporting trouble in locating where to do so). Edit: Tweaked the very first detail below, as someone reminded me it was not a wholly accurate statement as I had initially written it. Apologies to everyone who already reblogged the first version of this :')

Hasbro acquired Wizards of the Coast (WotC) some time ago, but recently they got new leadership who said in an interview that they see D&D as "under-monetized". Hasbro is on the decline with finances, and WotC is its biggest cash cow. Why milk that cash cow through producing more content when you can instead revoke a legally irrevocable license that makes it impossible for 3rd party content creators to exist?

America loves a good monopoly. The old license that permitted the community to grow to what it is today was OGL1.0a, and without it, D&D would not be what it is right now, nor even close. They tried to shift to OGL1.1, a new license that is, in a word, PREDATORY. Horrific, nasty shit.

OGL1.1 was quietly sent to large creators to sign. It then got leaked. The community erupted. The backlash was loud and unanimous. WotC was radio silent for like two weeks. They finally gave a single-sentence "we'll explain soon" tweet on DnDBeyond's account. Then more silence.

A WotC employee reached out to large creators to blow the whistle on WotC. The source was verified, and they shared that WotC sees the community as an obstacle between them and their money, all they care about is bottom line, and they're delaying in hopes we forget and move on.

And also that they are mainly looking at DnDBeyond subscription cancelations to gauge the financial impact; they don't care about our sentiments, only our money. So everyone erupted into signal boosting for others to unsubscribe as the single and best way to make ourselves heard. Cue the mass unsubscribing.

Today (January 13th 2023), a shitty PR piece was posted on DnDBeyond full of blatant lies and, in my opinion, barely-contained saltiness. Right before that, though, OGL2.0 leaks came out; the tweaks they'd begrudgingly made following the backlash. 2.0 is basically just as bad as 1.1; they just spoke of it as being more changed than it was.

In other words, they keep bold-faced lying to a community of rules-lawyers who recreationally read fine print :)

Meanwhile, Paizo (creators of Pathfinder) has come to the rescue, vowing to release a truly open license that will allow everyone to continue pursuing the livelihoods they're passionate about; this is the Open RPG Creative License, or "ORC".

Canceling subscriptions immediately sends a potent message, even if you may have to resubscribe later for functionality in your games. You'll still have the remainder of your billing cycle to enjoy paid perks.

Everything's a little on fire, but I think we'll be okay ♥️

OGL1.0a was never meant to be revocable, as loudly stated in the past couple days by the very people who authored it. It is very likely that WotC is actually just bluffing and bullying, and is actually powerless to revoke it--something many lawyers more knowledgeable than myself seem to be suggesting. In which case, it is my greatest hope in all of this that 3rd party creators are able to continue doing what they love, with no further interruptions.

Remember: the majority of WotC and DnDBeyond employees feel the exact same way we do, but they don't have a choice. Hasbro is the enemy here. Be kind to each other, and know where blame should and should not be placed. If you want to stay up to speed, the account of @.DnD_Shorts seems to be a very active and informed voice, largely responsible for sharing the first leak. If Twitter makes you want to puke, I completely understand; DnD_Shorts also has a YouTube channel with frequent updates on the situation posted in video format.

It's cathartic to me to try to signal boost this stuff, and provide summaries that might help others stay informed. It helps me feel like I'm somehow able to affect these nasty things that are otherwise just inflicted onto lil guys in the community like myself.

However, this has been beyond exhausting and stressful. I'm going to start untangling myself and stepping back from posting about this issue so I can hopefully restore some of my own sanity.

It's been really crazy--in a good way--to see the power this community has when rallied together under a common threat. It makes me proud to be in that community.

At the end of the day, all TTRPGs are really just exercises in creativity and fun. The golden rule has always been and should always be that there is no right or wrong way to play, other than what suits you and those you play with. Likewise, no one should ever feel guilty or judged by others for playing one system over another. It's okay to like D&D5e despite all this. No matter how much they've tried, Wizards of the Coast cannot claim jurisdiction over the invaluable memories you've made, and what has become a creative outlet for countless people. Myself included.

Boycotting is a great way to be heard, since they only care about money. But continuing to use the content you have to play D&D5e is your prerogative, and hurts no one. Furthermore, it's also okay if you can't cancel your DnDBeyond subscription because you rely on it too heavily for your games. That doesn't make you a traitor. That doesn't estrange you from the community. DnDBeyond, at its core, is a great tool that is popular for a reason; it's the new leadership that is forcing it to become something it wasn't meant to be. One day, I hope to be able to resubscribe in good conscious, and I hope that day is soon.

To reiterate, if anyone's even read down this far... be kind to one another. Keep in mind that big enemies win when the party is divided. You can love or hate anything you want in the TTRPG sphere, but how you feel about it does not invalidate someone else feeling the opposite.

Be kind. Be patient. Be empathetic. We're already coming out on top.

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