#I put on a little show for you and you tell me how pretty and sexy I look in each outfit

[animamii]

i need some locked up toji headcannons real bad 😩

ohhh bebecita I gotchuu c; this is something slightt inbox me 4 more

lockedup!Toji always ends his phone calls with you by asking "So... whatcha wearing right now, princess?" Which you always respond with something along the lines of "you're ridiculous... you're impossible... you're too much..." along with that sweet lil giggle he loves so much.

lockedup!Toji always begs for you to send him pretty pictures with your letters. He misses seeing that face of yours. It always makes him smile when it's a simple, cute selfie. "There's my pretty girl..." he'd say to himself as his fingers brush over it. Then he gets to a picture of you showing too much cleavage or something a little more revealing and he's likeee AWOOOGAAA 😍😍 lmfao. But forreal he shuts his cell door and needs a little him time.

lockedup!Toji is addicted to his damn Honey Buns. His favorites are the creamy curl and jelly swirl. Something about that chocolate and cream. "The middle is all creamy, it reminds me of you." His nasty self would say.

lockedup!Toji would come out of the pen being a damn chef though. Since he had to use nasty ass processed food to make prison meals, he knows exactly how to use different ingredients to make some bomb ass food. But still,,,, he wants his damn honey buns and maybe will eat a jail spread occassionally.

lockedup!Toji always loves when you use those Hello Kitty stamps on the letters you send. Ofc his favorite sanrio character is Badtz Maru. But his favorite stamps are the ones of Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel. It always reminds him of you two.

lockedup!Toji always dedicates music to you, whether he tells it to you over the phone or in his letters. He always includes one song. Wholeheartedly dedicated Kiss Me Thru The Phone to you, lmfao and Honey Bun by Kodak Black. *I have a whole ass playlist for Toji + Sweetheart i luvvv it*

lockedup!Toji begging you to marry him so you can get conjugal visits. He can't stand seeing you looking so pretty from the other side of a glass. He needs to feel you and touch you and actually be fucking inside of you.

lockedup!Toji starts thinking about his future with you a lot. He wants to start a family with you, wants kids and a white picket fence house and all that shit. So he starts writing down baby names and all that stuff. He wants another son so bad, wants to name him Malachi.

lockedup!Toji always bragging about you to everyone else. It's commissary day, where he gets the packages you send + he gets to buy whatever he wants from the commissary store with the money on his books (he has Shiu send him some hideaway money he stashed every week). But all he really cares about is the packages you send. It's all so personal, every little touch you put into it *thinking ab doing a whole drabble on this lmk bbs's* "look at what my girl sent this time." He'd say to his celly with a smirk as he holds up all the snacks and cute little notes you write.

[luvybun]

UGH can you imagine reader being a little bimbo and Jeonghan just loving taking advantage of her naivity😩🤌

౨ৎ greedy - yoon jeonghan x bimbo!reader

ᡣ𐭩 genre: smut, established relationship ᡣ𐭩 cw: reader gets called greedy, filming sex (at parts without reader knowing, but she finds out right away), piv, no protection (don't do this), does this count as dumbification? ᡣ𐭩 words: 558 ᡣ𐭩 notes: i'm not kidding when i say i wrote this in like 20 min- (it usually takes me way longer)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. any names, images, or references to real individuals are purely fictional and do not portray or represent their real-life counterparts in any way.

꒰୨୧꒱ 18+ content, MDNI ꒰୨୧꒱

your pink sparkly lipgloss has stained jeonghan's lips so prettily, you almost think that you should let him borrow it from you. he was the one who bought it for you, but nevertheless, you were too greedy to let that go. that's what jeonghan always said. you're greedy.

"this greedy fucking pussy..." he groaned. "you're practically sucking in my cock."

jeonghan is leaning over you with his phone camera out, filming your body and the way that his cock is plunging into your puffy pussy. "ngh- hannie, you said no more pictures... my make up is all messed up..."

you squirm and try to hide your face. he's quick to pin your arms to the bed to let the camera get a good look at you. your tits are bouncing with every thrust, your pussy making a squelching noise at any movement.

"i didn't say anything about videos, hun." he practically beams as he's found his loophole.

you whine and try to strain against his grip, but after so many orgasms you can't even lift a finger. so you give in, and give the camera a pout.

"tell the camera how good it feels, baby." jeonghan lets go of your arms to grab your tits, but your hands stay put against the bed.

he kneads the jiggly flesh under his fingers as he starts thrusting harder into you. your mouth falls open, your tongue rolling out as you let out a sound with each thrust, "uh-uh-uh-uh..!"

the stinging sensation of jeonghan slapping your tits makes you come back to reality. "can't you speak? have i fucked you out that much?"

"feels good!" you reply, seconds too late.

you flash the camera a fucked-out smile. jeonghan starts rubbing your puffy clit, and your body practically explodes with pleasure. your mouth hangs open as you let out moan after moan, unable to control yourself. when you finally reach your orgasm, you're shaking underneath him.

you black out, waking up to the sound of skin slapping against skin. jeonghan is laying down beside you, having already cleaned you up, and is looking at a video on his phone with his cock in his hand. he moans softly, his noises matching the ones you're making in the video. you whine, and move closer to him. jeonghan angles the phone so that you can see yourself.

despite your pussy aching for rest, you can feel the heat build up again as you watch your tiny hole get ruined by jeonghan's cock. you reach down to replace the hand jeonghan has around his dick, and he lets you. you jerk him off while the two of you watch the video of you, both of you quietly whimpering - jeonghan from your soft hand stroking him eagerly, and you from rubbing your sticky thighs together.

"so pretty, baby," jeonghan moans. "look at how pretty my baby is..."

he replays the video, listening to you beg to cum again... he'd been filming longer than you had realized. the thought makes your head spin and the ache between your thighs grow stronger.

"so greedy," jeonghan whispers.

as the video starts showing your tits, jeonghan cums in your hand with a groan - and like the good girlfriend you are, you go to lick it up... with the hope of getting something in return, of course.

[utopiastri]

25. Showing up injured at their enemy's house for Osc/Charles, please? 🙏

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt dear! i've never written choscar before and this was an absolute delight to put together!!! (cw for descriptions of major injury)

(prompt list here)

Oscar’s doing his best not to yawn through Ryan’s work story when the doorbell rings.

He smiles apologetically, standing up from the table. “Sorry, let me just get that.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Ryan says, smiling politely. Oscar inwardly grimaces at the pet name but smiles back.

A horrible feeling in his gut makes Oscar close the door to the dining room on his way to the front of the house. This gut feeling is proven correct when he opens the door to find Charles Leclerc on his front doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses.

Charles gives him a pained smile. “Oh, believe me, I wish I were anywhere else but here currently.”

“Then, why are you here? Go somewhere else!”

Charles gives Oscar a pleading look. “I need your help.”

“Charles,” he says exasperatedly, scrubbing his hands over his face, “I am literally the last person you should expect to help you.”

“Please.”

Oscar swallows. He hears a sound from behind him.

“Uh,” Ryan calls from a few rooms away, “Everything ok, sweetheart?”

Charles shoots him a look. “Sweetheart?” he mouths.

“Shut up. I was on a date before you came barging in here,” he whispers.

“A first date?" Charles asks, eyebrows raised, before correcting himself. "Ah, no, a second date but the first one was already pretty shit, hm?”

Oscar hates how perceptive he is.

“Yes,” he admits reluctantly.

“So second date. And you are letting him call you ‘sweetheart’?”

Oscar glares at Charles, but doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Ryan’s made it to the front door.

“Oh. Ah. Who’s this, Oscar?” he asks.

“Pierre Gasly,” Charles lies smoothly, extending a hand to shake, “I’m a friend of Oscar’s from work." He shoots Oscar a defeated look. "I was just stopping by to drop something off, I won’t take up any more of your evening.”

“Wait,” Oscar says, before Charles can even start to run off. He hates himself for what he's about to do but his decision was made the second Charles said ‘please’. He turns to Ryan: “I’m so sorry, Charles actually came to tell me there’s a problem at work we’ll need to sort out – he offered to deal with it himself but I think I’ll have to lend a hand.”

Ryan shakes his head. “No, that’s ok, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it?”

“If you would,” Charles answers, smiling in a way that would alarm anyone who knows him, but tends to charm complete strangers.

After a couple of minutes of Oscar saying his goodbyes to Ryan (and suffering through the worst goodnight kiss of his life), Oscar turns his focus to Charles, who is…

No longer in the hallway.

“Charles?” he calls.

“Kitchen!” is the response he gets.

“You know, when I offered to help you, that wasn’t me offering you to give yourself a…tour.” Oscar freezes in the doorway of his kitchen staring at the mess of wounds that was once Charles’ chest. “Charles,” he says hoarsely.

Charles smiles wanly, even as he continues to try to clean out his injuries a little. “Like I said,” he hisses as he pokes at a particularly nasty-looking wound, “I need your help.”

“You didn’t think to maybe mention the fucking life-threatening injuries you had, rather than standing on my doorstep teasing me about my date,” Oscar chastises, kneeling down on the tiles and swiping the first aid supplies from Charles’ hands.

“Oh come on, Oscar. You deserve better than a man who,” Charles cuts himself off to groan as Oscar starts methodically trying to close up Charles’ worst injuries, but he swiftly continues speaking, “A man who calls you a pet name on the second date. And god, the least he could do is call you ‘baby’.”

“Do you think teasing me about pet names whilst I literally hold your life in my hands is the way to go?”

Charles smiles lazily, even as his eyes squeeze tight with pain. “Perhaps not, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Oscar says, taking a grim delight in the sharp inhale Charles takes as he starts stitching a large cut together, “You lost the right to call me ‘baby’ three years ago.”

“Was that when I tried to kill you in San Diego or when you tried to kill me in Beijing?”

Oscar gives him a wry look. “That was when you decided to skip our wedding to go meet with an arms dealer.”

“Ah, yes, my mistake. I promise he was an ugly arms dealer, if that makes you feel any better.”

For a few moments, the only sound in the room is Oscar trying to deal with Charles’ injuries as best he can. Oscar wants to say something. He wants to ask so badly what Charles is doing here, but he knows Charles knows he wants to ask and he refuses to give him the satisfaction.

He gives in in the end though.

He always does with Charles.

“Why did you come here? Why come to me?”

Charles looks at him and, for the first time tonight, Oscar truly registers the deep devastation in his eyes.

“You were the only one I trusted not to hurt me,” he whispers.

[deepamuthukrishnan]

We Listen and We Don’t Judge

Pairings: Nico Hischier x OC

Warnings: Spoilers for That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice but just a lot of fluff.

Summary: You are a viral booktoker and after seeing the we listen and we don’t judge trend with couples, you put your own twist.

—————————————————————————

It’s not a joke that you are mildly addicted to TikTok. After all, by day, you worked for the New Jersey Devils as a social media girl but by night, you are one of the most viral booktokers on BookTok.

Currently you were doomscrolling on TikTok, waiting for your boyfriend, Nico, to come home from hanging at Jack’s and Luke’s place.

You suddenly come across a video of a couple doing the We Listen and Don’t Judge trend which you weren’t that completely unaware of because you had seen it on your for you page for the last few days.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The couple both said before the woman started to talk.

“I sometimes don’t wash our fruit because I feel lazy.” She said, trying not to laugh.

The man burst into laughter. “Jesus we’re gonna get worms! We probably have worms in our bodies!”

“Well we listen and we don’t judge!” She clapped back and you began to laugh.

After about three minutes of watching that video, an idea popped in your head. You walked to your massive bookshelf that Nico assembled for you for Christmas last year and got out your copies of That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice from your shelf before walking back to the living room.

As soon as you walked back, you saw Nico walk in, taking his shoes and beanie off.

“Hey Schatz.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist, giving you a kiss.

You pulled away to greet him back, Nico pouting a bit. “Hey baby. How was the hangout at Jack’s and Luke’s place.”

“Same old same old.” He said, his Swiss German accent being prominent.

You chuckled. “Why don’t you get changed.”

“Okay.” He gives you a quick kiss before walking into your shared bedroom before walking out in grey sweatpants and a devils hoodie.

“Hey Nico?”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“You love me right?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked and you look at him gobsmacked.

“Okay no. I’m not breaking up with you-“

“Thank god.”

“I was literally gonna ask if you wanted to be in a TikTok baby.” You say.

Nico has been your biggest supporter and even though it was a mutual decision to keep your love life private, along with the occasional post of each other on your birthdays, anniversaries, and reposting posts of you guys in them.

“Oh okay. What TikTok?”

He plops down on the floor and looks at the pile of books on the coffee table. “What TikTok is it?”

You get your phone and open TikTok, going to make a new video, propping your phone on the little fake bonsai tree.

“Okay so we’re gonna do the we listen and we don’t judge trend except it’s with the books I read last month.” You say to your phone before stopping the recording.

“I say we listen and we don’t judge and tell you something about the book.” I explain.

“So I sit and look pretty?”

“Pretty much.” I answer.

I get out the first book, That Sik Luv, from the pile before clicking the button to record.

“We listen and we don’t judge,” you say, trying so hard not to laugh. “In this book, she’s in a religious cult, she doesn’t know that she is. Either way, the church that runs their town are trying to kill her so they hire this mercenary dude who becomes obsessed with her and stalks her and shows just how corrupt the church is. So one day, when she has to go to confession and he’s waiting for her in where she’s supposed to sit and they get their freak on when she’s giving her confession to the deacon and when he pulls back to curtain to pew pew her, he acts quickly and pew pews the deacon and they continue to get their freak on in front of the deacon’s now dead body.”

Nico mulls over what you said before saying, “I would read this book Schatzi.”

“What?!” You look at him horrified. “Like you’re not playing with me are you?”

“I mean I would skip over these kinda scenes but it seems interesting.”

“Oh my lord.” You muttered before grabbing King of Wrath.

“We listen and we don’t judge,” you said, forming her thoughts. “So in this book, both the characters are in an arranged marriage situation for reasons I can’t say. Anyway, one thing leads to another and he’s,” you mime fingering to him and he raises his eyebrows, “her and calls him an asshole and he replies with ‘I’m an asshole, yet youre dripping for me.’”

“Is this what you’re reading when your jaw is dropped?” He asks.

“Well like, you signed up for this.” You say.

“I love you too much.” He said, pulling you into him.

“I love you too.” You say and you grab King of Sloth.

“We listen and we don’t judge. So for context, her ex cheated on her-“

“He’s a dead man.” Nico fumes, his Swiss German accent becoming even more prominent.

“If you’ll let me finish.” You say, trying not to laugh at his outburst but you crack a smile. “Anyway, because of that, she has trust issues and when she’s telling him, so the mmc, her trust issues, instead of reassuring her, he sits her on her desk and goes to town with his mouth on her. He then proceeds to bend her over and goes to town on her and he puts duct tape over her mouth because she’s apparently loud.”

A beat of silence passes before Nico says, “If your ex cheated on you and you said that, I’d do the same.”

You whack the book on his head. “No you won’t.” You reply, both of you laughing.

“What, I need to remind him what he missed out on.” He responds chalantly.

You roll your eyes before grabbingGod of Wrath.

“We listen and we don’t judge. So in the first chapter, she wants to kill herself because her best friend killed himself and she on the edge of the cliff and she jumps, but then the mmc grabs onto her and he said that the only way he can save her life is if she performs a certain sexual act down there.”

“Like what do you mean?”

“He’s holding on to her and he’s like oh the only way I will save you if you do this certain sexual act down there for me.”

“And she does.”

“Well yeah. If we were in this exact situation, I’d do it because I value my life.” You respond.

“Okay true.” He says.

You get out your last book, God of Wrath, trying not to laugh.

“We listen and we don’t judge. In this book, she’s walking home at night with her headphones in and these two creeps are like following her but then, the mmc, who was stalking her, bears the guys up because in his eyes, he’s the only one that allowed to stalk her.”

“Oh.” He says. “That’s kinda stupid though.”

“What is?” You ask.

“Walking alone at night with headphones in. Like does she not have any sense?”

You burst into laughter at his words. “Literally the mmc asked her the exact question and it is pretty stupid.” You look at your phone before saying, “Guys, remember to not walk alone at night with headphones in. But also let me know if yall want a part 2.”

You hit the stop button and he pulls you further into him. “You know I love you, but this is the weirdest TikTok you made me do.”

You chuckle and kiss his jaw. “I know babe.”

[headedstraightforfrankcastle]

Random Vi headcanons

Plot: none, just random thoughts about Vi as your pretty little girlfriend <3

Disclaimer: both SFW and NSFW, not revised (please tell me if there's any mistake so I can fix it), mention of food

A/N: besties, I didn't forget about the smut! It just coming together pretty slowly because I'm working on an exam and all my strenght goes there. But it's coming, so stay tuned 👀

-

SFW:

Vi who always has a little smirk on her face because of the scar in her upper lip - her mouth is costantly slightly ajar and it makes her look as is in an endless state of are, mostly when she's looking at you

Vi who holds your hand as if it were the last safe anchor in a sea full of monsters

Vi who tries to cook for you when you don't feel like doing it by yourself, but she insists you absolutely cannot skip even one single meal

Vi who clearly makes a mess, filling the sink with dirty pots and utensils, struggling to keep up with something harder that a grilled cheese, but who keeps trying and ends up cooking a not-so-bad-but-very-personal version of your favourite dishes

Vi who later gives you the biggest puppy eyes while watching you eat, waiting fo you to tell her if she did good (you end up telling her she did even if it's a lie, because the effort that woman puts in everything she does for you is worth eating even dirt if she put it in a soup for you)

Vi who actually likes cooking with you as you teach her tips and tricks, because the way you do it without being patronising makes her feel important

Vi who insists on watching horror movies with you thinking she's good at hiding the dread

"It's just a movie, babe, no need to get scared", but she's actually the one taking her gaze of the TV when scary stuff happens. It always ends up with her snuggling in your arms saying it is for your comfort (you both know it's a lie)

Vi who loves to absentmindedly play with your hair and who's head over heels when you dye a lock of her same pink

Vi who is so messy in basically everything she does except handling you

Vi who sings in the shower thinking you can't hear her, not knowing you're actually sitting outside the door listening to her

Vi who would teach you some self-defence and love seeing you becoming stronger everyday, but will still be your scary dog privilege

Vi whose first reason to teach you how to fight is to admire you in your workout gear because your body and the way it moves is art to her - but seeing you so powerful when you hit the punching bag and knowing you can do it to whoever tries to hurt you is second place on the list

Vi who always shares drinks with you, so she's sure not to exaggerate with the alcohol and gets to have a constant contact with you at the same time

Vi who doesn't mind getting into little fights because she knows that when she comes home you'll fuss over her like a madman; it always ends up with you doing your best to mend her wounds while sitting on her lap, and she loves it

Vi who can seem like the toughest, meanest, harshest person to the rest of the world - but who, you know, has the biggest heart who she only shows to those she loves, especially you

Vi who is the best of both worlds, both strong and vulnerable, and who melts when you call her your wonder

NSFW:

Vi who likes your marks a little too much: your bites on her thighs and neck, the hickeys you leave both in places where everyone can see then and in hidded spots only she knows about (these are her favourites), the stinging red lines and half-moons of your nails digging onto her skin... the memories of you on her alter her brain chemistry in a way she cannot even describe

Vi who's a massive switch, but who's always at your service, mostly when she's fucking you dumb, be it with her fingers, her tongue or her strap

Vi who was sceptical about taking the strap from you at first, but later realizes how much she loves being at your mercy

Vi who loves making love (she stopped "having sex" with you a long time ago) while listening to a playlist you made with her and your favourite songs, humming the little tunes while she kisses you neck or eat you out, making you crazy

Vi who has you sitting naked on her knees and spends hours worship your body: caresses, kissing, the tip of her fingers tracing your curves, did I mention that you are her favorite work of art?

Vi who is super sensitive, way more than you, and loves taking her time with you before you take your time with her, so you can both finish together, her core rubbing against your until your screams of pleasure mix with hers

Vi who memorizes all your limits and knows you more than you know youreslf, but establishes a safe word anyway, just to be sure

Vi who never runs out of things she wants to do to you and who loves discovering all the nasty little things you want to do to her

Vi, with whom everytime feels like the first time, but who also is the most familiar habit

That's all besties! Hope you liked these little ideas, thank you for reading and have an amazing day <3

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 135 (Heather's Home!)

Conrad was sitting in the kitchen with Lavender when Heather returned from Selvadorada. "Mommy!" Lavender squealed.

Heather beamed. She'd missed their joyful smiles, but she moved slowly, feeling nauseous again as her body still recovered from the spider bite. "You look a little green," said Conrad with concern.

"You should have seen me a few days ago," she mused. "It looks like the contractors finished the upstairs bedroom while I was gone."

"The snow melted just long enough for them to get it done," said Conrad, showing off the space where Ash would sleep once he returned from spending Easter with the Landgraabs. They both glanced out the windows, noting the falling snowflakes beginning to gather on the ground all over again.

Heather smiled. "Even if the snow doesn't want to leave the Bay, it feels like a new beginning. George and June's murder is solved and the town's doing okay. I'm back from vacation. New season. New bedroom."

"We've got new problems...."

Heather cocked her head in confusion. "Rafa still won't cooperate? We didn't have any trouble with cartels in Selvadorada."

"As relieved as I am to hear that, I'm worried they might've gotten to Rafa and it's holding him back. He won't give up Ximena, but I keep trying. I sent Felix to try to talk to him in Sulani after convincing Melissa didn't work."

"Felix is pretty persuasive," she said hopefully. "I saw on Social Bunny he has a new girlfriend."

"He charmed Lilith without much trouble," Conrad agreed with a nod. "But the same lines won't work on Rafa."

"You could always arrest him and force his hand," she reminded him, but she knew her suggestion would fall on deaf ears.

"It's not just Rafa and his sister," he said carefully. He didn't even know where to begin with John Brindleton's town history lesson, so he skipped it - for now. "I talked to Ash about Ben and his dog and he figured out by himself that his accident as a toddler made it possible for him to see ghosts. Felix confirmed it's the most likely explanation."

"Because he was...Oh my Watcher...So he just sees ghosts? Plural? What if they frighten him?"

"He's not even worried about it. Says he's never met a ghost that he didn't think was living. Doesn't even know if he's ever met more than Ben and Captain Whitaker." She leaned into him, feeling dizzy, and Conrad held out a hand to support her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Maybe I should lie down. Jet lag hit me on the way into the jungle, and it'll probably hit me again now that I'm home."

Conrad kissed her and put her to bed, taking Lavender to daycare on his way to work. Heather napped for most of the day, calling her parents to cancel plans to go to Henford for Easter dinner because the thought of spending an hour on the speedy Simmerloop made her feel as green as she looked. "I know Hazel's already in town for the weekend. That's good in case this is a flu or something."

"We're sorry we won't see you, but we just want you to rest if you're sick," said her father, Neal. "We'll miss your cooking, though."

"Maybe we'll make it to Henford for Mother's Day, if things aren't too hectic with the clinic rebuild."

"Get well soon, Buttercup. We love you."

"Love you, too."

She hung up the phone, content after a quick chat with her beloved dad despite her guilt over cancelling holiday plans. But she couldn't dwell for long on her feelings before she raced to the bathroom to be sick.

At work, Conrad was in the break room. While his coworkers talked about plans to celebrate his old partner Josephine's retirement party at the Salty Paw, he pulled himself away when his phone rang. "Felix! How's the beach?"

"It's not Felix." Rafa's tone curdled down the line. "He let me borrow his phone to tell you to screw off."

In the tropics, Felix rocked uncomfortably in his flip flops. "He didn't tell me that's what he wanted to say! I told him he might avoid prison entirely if he gives up his sister and he said he wanted to call you."

"And who the hell are you to promise something like that? You're just some weird lawyer who sounds a hundred years older than he looks!"

"Listen to Felix," Conrad urged, careful not to mention Rafa's name in front of his coworkers. "He's the most experienced attorney I know."

Even though Felix had passed the bar only recently, Conrad was telling the truth. He didn't know any other attorneys who'd practiced law as far back as the early 20th Century.

"If I get off with nothing but a slap on the wrist after selling my own sister up the river, the cartel will come for me, for sure."

"You said yourself they're not concerned with Sulani. I know what I'm asking you, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't need your help. She's been all but abandoned by the cartel. I'm sure of it. No one's visited her since she was put behind bars, but you know what she's capable of. You could keep her there, for your benefit as much as mine. Yours and Melissa's."

"You shouldn't have sent her here."

"But you weren't this mad when I did."

"Screw you, Conrad. And stop telling the Ngatas to spy on me. Oliana and her son come by every other day now."

"Maybe they care about you. I know what that's like."

The call ended with a click, and Conrad sighed. He was beginning to think he'd have to bring in the cartel to pressure Ximena, after all, but he didn't relish the possibility in the slightest. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: There was already a sneaky shot of the new bedroom in the Love Day installment because making spring crafts were the only way I knew how to make Valentine's-themed artwork without mods, and I'd already done the reno in the spring save when I wanted to put that shot in.

WCIF Pose: @novapark's Incoming Puke for Heather's bathroom shot. Love it even if Heather is suffering for it; thank you for sharing!

[someone1348]

It was long overdue...its time; I'm doing a squid games fic! I'm scared, but I'm posting it anyway! I've wanted to write for it for a while now, I just never had ideas or motivation! There's already so many great squid games writers, and I just am nervous!

Anyway!

The people in this: Ler!Jung-Bae, Lee!Dae-ho (naturally, I had to do them first!)

Tw: Anxiety, a little cursing, regardless this is a tickle fic, so if you don't like it, please keep scrolling! Thank you! :]

Also, squid games season 2 spoilers, so if you haven't watched it, I'd recommend watching it first!

With that being said enjoy!! <3

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Such a ticklish marine

They had just finished the six-legged pentathlon. Spirits were high for about five seconds before they heard the gunshots again from the other side of the room. Dae-ho squirmed back again, covering his ears. Heart racing as Jung-Bae put a hand to his shoulder. It was almost like it was second nature. Dae-ho definitely showed his love through physical touch, and Jung-Bae did, too, so it just worked. They mirrored each other perfectly. The older of the two really took Dae-ho in, especially after he found out he was also an ex-marine. The bond of marines is unbreakable, but with how big Jung-Bae's heart is, he saw Dae-ho like the son he never had. Even if he doesn't admit it out loud, his actions show everything.

So when he's freaking out, covering his ears, fidgeting, the whole nine yards, he clocked his ptsd pretty fast. It made his heart ache a little for the poor boy. He wanted to, no, needed to do something to help him out. Jung-Bae took a deep breath and walked behind him as they entered the main room. Several teams who made it already sitting on one of the bunks groupped together, naturally. They did the same, sitting down waiting now for dinner to be served. Dae-ho was fidgeting again with his hands, scanning the room as some of the teams gave their team ugly stares. Jung-Bae placed a gentle hand to his knee for support, to try and ground him so he knows that he's not alone. Dae-ho's shoulders jumped a little at the impact but relaxed when he realized it was just Jung-Bae.

"Don't worry about them... they're just greedy assholes. We won't let anything happen to you or anyone on our team." Jung-Bae said with a determined smile as Dae-ho nodded.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Dae-ho replied out of instinct as Jung-Bae giggled gently at this.

"Atta boy!" He gently squeezed Dae-ho's knee as his hearty laughter grew. Without having time to hold back a reaction, Dae-ho squeaked quietly, but it definitely caught Jung-Bae's attention. Even through his laughter, he definitely heard that correctly. Blinking gently, Jung-Bae looked up at the boy with curiosity. Dae-ho's eyes widened. He tried to keep a poker face, like nothing happened, but he was really bad at that. Jung-Bae and everyone around him could see right through him.

"Dae-ho...?" Jung-Bae said a slight tease in his voice.

Dae-ho gulped gently and blinked "Yes...Sir...?"

The nervous reaction sent Jung-Bae's smile into a wicked smirk. He scooted closer to the already anxious marine. Now his heart was racing again, not out of fear, though. It moved quickly knowing what was potentially about to happen. He has four older sisters. He knows a 'I'm gonna tickle you' look when he sees one!

"Don't tell me, you, a strong, brave, ex-marine is ticklish?" He teased him, obviously not talking down to him. Dae-ho knew this and was thankful that he didn't make fun of him for it. It was normal, nothing to be ashamed about. Dae-ho took a deep breath, not knowing how to respond. Jung-Bae just giggled.

"This is gold!" He seemed happier than ever at this newfound information. Was...was that it? Was he really not going to get tickled? Dae-ho was overthinking it before the gaurds called everyone to grab dinner. Snapping out of his thoughts, they all got in line to get their portion of the meals. It was barely anything. Every day, there was less. They did that on purpose, but hey, at least they were getting something to eat.

After getting his tin and water, Dae-ho sat back down in the same spot. Jung-Bae, however, moved up a step to sit next to Dae-ho. The younger looked at the older with wider eyes than normal. Jung-Bae didn't say anything he just opened his tin and started eating.

"What did you get?" The question made Dae-ho blink before he opened his tin.

"Um...the same thing as you, we all get the same thing, sir," he said matter-of-factly. Which again made Jung-Bae giggle. This man was just always full of laughter, even in a situation like this. Something that made Dae-ho admire him even further. The conversation fell silent again as they kept eating. Jung-Bae talking to Gi-Hun and the others before turning back to Dae-ho.

"So...where are you most ticklish?" He asked teasingly and excitedly.

Dae-ho nearly choked on his rice at the question. Coughing a little before regaining his senses, Jung-Bae laughed.

"You okay, soldier?"

Dae-ho nodded quickly. The older patted his shoulder again happily. Jung-Bae was doing all of this on purpose. Sure, he wanted to know this information, but he wanted to help, mostly. He thought that maybe tickling him could help get him distracted enough to calm his anxiety. It worked on Gi-Hun whenever he had nightmares as kids, so maybe it'll help Dae-ho, too. He needed to try regardless. If it doesn't work, he'll try something else. Jung-Bae smirked and went back to teasing.

"If you won't talk, that's fine, I'll figure it out one way or another," he hummed gently, running a hand down his spine. Dae-ho arched gently out of instinct and smiled. Good a smile, that's a start. He's not uncomfortable. That's all he wanted to make sure of first before he could do anything.

Once dinner was completed, Jung-Bae finally put his plan into action. Dae-ho tried to move away to throw his tin away, but Jung-Bae pulled him back.

"Ah ah ah... you can do that later! I wanna see what you can do, boy! You've impressed me a lot as of recently. Let's keep that streak up, sha'll we?" He hummed as Dae-ho raised an eyebrow.

"I'm honored, sir, but I'm not exactly following..." He said honestly as Jung-Bae's smirk returned.

"Don't laugh~" he teased. Without warning, he used both hands to gently squeeze at Dae-ho's sides. A loud shriek rang through the place, followed by laughter and Dae-ho rolling over, trying to escape him. If he started with any other spot, he would've been able to hold it in, but Jung-Bae had to get his worst spot first! On a total guess too! Not fair!

Jung-Bae giggled with him. "You didn't even last a second! Such a ticklish marine~" he teased again, stopping for a second so Dae-ho could catch his breath and sit up.

"That wasn't fair! I could've done better if you didn't go for-" he inhaled and bit his lip as Jung-Bae tickled his neck in retaliation for the attitude. This was so fun for him now.

"Ohhhh, there we go! You're lastly relatively well. Let's see how you pair up against two spots at once!" He cheered before using his other hand to skitter gently across his ribs. Dae-ho squirmed a little but kept his laughter back as best as he could.

"You can do it, Dae-ho!" He supported him while actively scribbling across his stomach to get to each side of his ribs. Back and forth, while his other hand still wiggled against the right side of Dae-ho's neck. It took 10 more seconds before Dae-ho burst out in giggles again. Lying on the steps to try and get away. Jung-Bae's hands followed his movements with a smile.

"Juhuhung-bahahae!! Sihihir! Please! Hahaha!" It was light airy giggles since Jung-Bae was being relatively nice about it, for now. The older marines heart practically melted into puddy at the sound.

"Please what Dae-ho? I can't understand you with all this laughter!" He pulled up his shirt a little, using both hands to now tickle his stomach, which got Dae-ho kicking now. His water bottle now knocked off the stairs. Thank God it was closed. But Young-il had to duck, moving out of the way of the water bottle and the pair.

"JUHuhUhung-BAHaEHe!" He laughed a little more as his hands held onto the others' wrists. The other laughed with him and continued to tease him. One finger finding it's way into his belly button. This caused Dae-ho to make a sound similar to a snort and laugh some more.

"You know I think this might be why you're not a marine anymore, you're an interrogation risk, one little tickle and you'd spill all the beans of our plans" he joked which made the other a little embarrassed. His ears were a little red as he kept laughing.

"HaHaHAHAHA!" He kept going. "I wOhoHould nEHeHeVer! BETraHAhay! My TeHEHEheam!" He tried to defend himself before Jung-Bae smirked. He knew that, duh, but that was still adorable. He liked it when he was laughing rather than panicking. It suited him.

"Tickle Tickle Tickle~" he teased more, moving up to gently tickle his underarms. Dae-ho slammed them down quickly, his laughter never subsiding as he squirmed around on the step.

"GEhehEt OhoHOUT oF tHEHehere!!" He shook his head no as Jung-Bae giggled.

"Oh? Do you want me to pick a different spot?" He asked gently as Dae-ho nodded frantically through his laughter. He soon regretted his decision as Jung-Bae's hands went from his underarms to his sides, squeezing the ex-marine's most ticklish spot with determination.

"AHAHAHAHA NOHOHO HAHAHAHA!" Dae-ho let out a bout of laughter mixed with some incoherent speech. His kicking increased ten-folds as well. He was a squirmer, that's for sure. Jung-Bae smiled and kept going.

"What's the matter soldier? Is it too ticklish for ya? Hmm? I'm gonna getcha!" He was deep into tickle monster mode now. There was no stopping Jung-Bae now. Dae-ho squeaked this time as he let himself laugh.

"IHIHHIT TIHIHIHICKLES! JUHUHUHUNG-BAHAEHE!" He threw his head back gently, laughing as his back arched into his hands out of instinct. This was amusing to Jung-Bae. So he was enjoying this, good!

"SHIHIHIT!-" He said, moving his body back to the floor. Jung-Bae smirked at this.

"Such fowl language for an ex-marine! Watch your tone, young man!" He smiled before blowing a raspberry into one of his sides, still tickling his other side with the other hand. He lost his mind.

"SIHIHIHIR! IHIM SOHOHORRY! MERCY PLEHEHEHEHEASE HAHAHA!" He asked for mercy. Jung-Bae gave him a few more scribbles before he finally stopped. Beaming, Jung-Bae sat back and watched Dae-ho catch his breath, giggles poking through every now and again.

"At ease, buddy"

"Thahank you...sir" he sat up gently as Jung-Bae patted his shoulder again. His duty was done. Mission completed.

"Dae-ho, don't worry about it, you aren't the only ticklish ex-marine around." Gi-Hun smirked as Jung-Bae gasped

"Gi-Hun!" He said, sounded offended even though he really wasn't. Dae-ho giggled at this and turned to Jung-Bae.

"I see..." he hummed teasingly

Like father like son.

---------------------------------------------------

Thank you @sleepy--anon for pushing me further to write for squid games and giving me the duo idea! I hope I did the fandom/show justice!

-K :]

[uniquethingtastemaker]

I clapped my hands and squealed when I saw this! I love it whenever people talk about my ideas and characters. It's always so rewarding, so I have to give back to something that makes me so happy.

You're so right about him apologizing for his rambles. I just wrote the first part of the fanfic (again, it's subject to change. It's 3 a.m., but I feel pretty good about this one). I'm jumping off the scene where you first meet Rook. Even then, he apologizes for getting off track.

It's sad because he's so genuine. However, I do know that when he rambles. He goes ooooooon. I remember Vil saying in Chapter 6 that he went on for 5 hrs about how he would've acted in one of Vil's scenes. I relate to the feeling so hard. I do this, but I have less shame about it. Plus, I have someone willing to listen to my rambles because they love me and think my enthusiasm is cute. It's my boyfriend. I love him. He's a cutie. Therefore, I wanna give that experience to Rook. Thinking about it, my rambles have gotten shorter, lasting around 15-30 mins rather than a whole 5 hrs. The reason is because I have a steady stream of attention. Bottling it up will give you 5 hrs, but if you do it consistently, it'll be shorter. Big brain. I came up with that on the fly. Proud of myself. Congratulations, you got one of my signature rambles lol.

Wait, wait, wait, I have thoughts about Vil and Rook! I've never gotten to speak about this before, so I'm enthusiastic, like our favorite hunter.

They're interesting because Rook and Vil are equals. Rook treats Vil like an equal. Vil doesn't get that a lot. He either looks down on people (or perhaps gives the illusion that he looks down on them (unclear)), or others put him on a pedestal due to celebrity status. There aren't many people close to him that can say they're equal to Vil. Or maybe it's more accurate to say stand up to Vil, and he listens. Rook tells truths to Vil straight. Now, there's a reason for blunt delivery. He might be a little "mean" or "insensitive," but my god, Vil is thickheaded. He's so pompous that most criticism gets thrown away because he doesn't think they're credible. Rook has to be callous to get to Vil.

Now, this isn't Rook's normal behavior. I remember when our favorite hunter reassured and helped Deuce after he ran out of practice in the 5th chapter. He was helpful and kind then. Therefore, I'm under the assumption that with Vil, he has to be mean. He has to be rough for the blonde to even consider the criticism.

Now, a few other things are interesting about their relationship. First is how Rook approached Vil without reserve... You know... now thinking about it... He might have gone to him because he would be the only one to listen or discuss his interests. Hahahaha, I'm laughing because that's both sad and hilarious. I can totally see Rook approaching Vil specifically with the thought, "People love talking about themselves." Perhaps that's why Rook got close to Vil. Vil's self-absorbed, so the topic of the hunter wouldn't come up that often. It's a surefire way to have him talk about his interests without reservation. It also showed Vil that Rook was credible and his thoughts were good because he showcased value in their talks. Not only did he talk about the good aspects but also the bad. That's something a true fan does. I love that.

I also feel like he's less intimidated by Vil than Neige, because Rook looks up to the RSA student. I'll be a little mean here. Vil has been the villain in basically all his works with Neige. It's probably easier for Rook to separate Vil from his villain role. The hunter knows that just because he plays the antagonist doesn't mean they're bad. So because he wasn't a hardcore fan of Vil, it was easier for him to befriend him. As his friend, he supports and loves Vil, but the blonde isn't his ultimate idol.

Now, I take the whole butting heads thing to be Rook just doing his own thing, and Vil being annoyed that he can't control Rook's actions. Everyone knows Vil likes being in charge and in control. So Rook is different and the reason why Vil doesn't force his control is two reasons. 1) He respects Rook. It's obvious by the way Vil doesn't pry into his suitcase during chapter 5. During that scene, it also implies that Vil knows how much Rook values his privacy. So Vil respects Rook. 2) He knows if he ever did force him, Rook would stand up to him. If Vil didn't get his act together, Rook would leave. Rook does his own thing. He has a moral code and will that isn't swayed by outside factors.

I think Vil is also more often annoyed by Rook in an "official" capacity. Rook isn't bound by duty like Vil is. The hunter tends to go wherever his heart leads him. It's why he goes after Vil in Chapter 6 instead of doing his duty as the vice leader. Therefore, it makes him a little more incompetent in an official capacity. Again, look at Chapter 6. Vil scolds him as the prefect and then as himself, saying he loves the whole crew for coming to get him. I do think Vil can become genuinely annoyed and irritated in that aspect. However, as a friend, they love each other.

Another aspect is that they work well together. Vil tends to be overly harsh, causing a lot of conflict, but Rook defuses it. They work together in that aspect, and I think Vil knows this. He might be semi-annoyed, but I don't think he's super annoyed. He's probably just judgmental, which is Vil's baseline lol

Anyway those are my unfiltered thoughts. I'm sure I repeated myself multiple times, but it's 4 am, so... here you go lol

As everyone knows, I bounce between fics based on my creative inspiration and rn I’m writing a Rook x Reader fanfic.

Now, this one is interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this concept before…

The closest thing I’ve read is probably @solxamber’s Ruler of My Heart. It’s one of my favorite Rook x Reader fanfic of all time. She peels back the layers to Rook’s character, portraying something more honest and vulnerable. It’s fantastic. If you haven’t read it, do it now.

I read that fanfic and thought I could never even touch that level of artistry. However, I feel like I’ve come up with a solid base for something good.

I haven’t seen a lot of full fanfics where Rook feels threatened. I’ve seen some drabbles where he’s felt scared and is able to deal with the threat swiftly. However, those tend to be about MC being threatened. Even in the canon story, Rook is more concerned with the safety of others rather than himself. It makes sense considering his fantastic skills.

Therefore, the man tends to be unflappable. Even if he does feel unnerved, he covers it up expertly. He can manually adjust his heart rate and breathing. However, some people can see past the facade, like Trey. Look at the Halloween event for instance.

Rook has a weakness though. He’s a private person. He doesn’t like people knowing about his past too much. Other than what he portrays to the world, which is his more of his upbeat and over the top self, he doesn’t want people to know about him. That’s his weakness.

My fanfic idea is an observant reader. Someone that makes Rook feel uncomfortable and borderline threatened because they just guessed almost everything about him upon their first meeting. That is objectively terrifying. There’s someone who matches his level of observation. Unlike Trey, who’s low key about it, MC doesn’t know that, especially at first. They almost give away too much information. Rook deals with the situation but they both know what he’s done to intervene.

So, I plan to have the main inner conflict be Rook hesitating to trust the Reader. The external conflict will obviously be Vil. Once again, I have a strange obsession with Chapter 5. I think it’s because it’s the perfect set up. There’s so many different possible conflicts and resolutions. I also don’t have to think much in terms of coming up with my own situation and set up. It’s built in there. Work smarter not harder lol

Anyway, that’s my idea for now. Let me know your thoughts. Always love interacting with people about my works and ideas

I also have thoughts regarding Rook general behavior that might be interesting. However, I’m tired, so that’ll probably be a separate post. Let me know if you’re interested.

Tagging @es-sharezone because u love Rook lol

[whenlifegivesticks-blog]

The long overdue, extremely lengthy Heroes in Crisis Review. Put on your reading glasses because this is long. I just want to give a little summary, The entire comic is the definition of disrespecting existing characters as well as real people and their problems. I seen better writing from 13 year old wattpad kids who are just getting started on their writing journey. It's hard for me to believe professional writers wrote this. Now onto the detailed review.

Brain rot enjoyment meter (how much I enjoyed it without actually analyzing it) : 7/10

Actual rating: 3/10

I'll go on with the analysis part by part.

first of all characters: Half of them are out of character and the other half are random characters that dc hasn't used in over a decade, we don't care about. Only to kill them off and it has no impact whatsoever as we don't know who these people are plus bunch of one panel cameos of characters for absolute no reason and adds absolutely nothing to the actual plot or story. For example, Red Devil, Tattooed man, Hotspot (i later recognized him from teen titans). I am pretty young person so I absolutely did not know half the characters. And they didn't introduce or reintroduce in this case any of these characters. We barely know what their issues are or why they are at sanctuary.

All characters are out of character or completely dumbed down. Wally's entire character is massacred and even by the end I barely understood what was up with him. I'll expand on this later.

Batgirl, Barbara was just frustrating and felt really empty. Like she was just there and really didn't seem to add anything to the story. At least as a character she doesn't. She felt more like a plot device.

Batman was just ??? but he wasn't that bad but suffers from same thing as Babs. Felt like he was just there as a plot device and character wise he added nothing whatsoever. We don't even see him investigating properly.

superman was downright foul And made no sense. Ok so you're working on the investigation with Diana and Bruce, so what's with the tension and secrecy??? Like Clark is that really you?

and louis lane was just evil, will be explained later.

Hal Jordan made one of the one panel appearances and that one panel was enough to show that the writer knew absolutely nothing about him. I been reading old GL comics and that one panel was just... wow.

the bat kids made cameos and they just copy pasted dialogue for them with little differences.

The comic is only 9 issues and is short so it just doesn't really show off a lot of personality from characters that aren't Harley or booster. And even then these two were just... not very satisfactory.

Second of all, plot: Made absolutely no sense whatsoever, I read the ending twice and still don't know what happened or what's the message.

obvious spoilers:

So, in a heroes mental institute called sanctuary, everyone was found dead other than Harley Quinn and booster gold. Booster saw Harley kill everyone. Harley saw booster kill everyone. So its a murder mystery.

Except the comic is all over the place and does not give any needed or required context so it doesn't really feel anything. Like it immediately pulls you in with no context whatsoever, with characters you aren't allowed to build a connection with.

There's this ridiculous segment where Harley Quinn defeats the trinity like what???? Harley Quinn defeating superman , wonder woman and batman is impossible. Ya telling me Harley is stronger than darksied??? Better plot armor than batman...

and superman comments saying how Harley is just as good as Bruce... I call BS. The writers really trynna convince us Harley is stronger than batman.

like what?

she went toe to toe with booster gold and I'm like??? even with half his powers, booster gold wipes the floor with Harley.

And here's the thing, Barry Allen thinks booster killed everyone. Ya telling me he chose to believe Harley Quinn a known dangerous criminal over booster gold?? Booster gold isn't even a anti hero. he doesn't kill. Plus someone pointed out to me Booster probably experienced all this after he watched a version of batman kill himself in front of Booster. Which explains Booster talking about how he sees the blood on his visor despite nothing being there.

Barbara helps Harley and takes down blue beetle (whose helping booster) like even she chose the psycho Harley to protect over booster??

what they smoking!

Now if you take actual culprit. it was wally. Now the story shows a pretty okish segment of wally's downward spiral to a mental breakdown. Except it still was more tell than show. And the plot made no sense.

Wally had a mental breakdown because he believed everyone at sanctuary was faking their mental illness to make him feel better. That he alone was the crazy one. So he "hacked" the system in place and found recordings for everyone's sessions and lost control of his powers accidentally killing everyone.

Ok I can believe he accidentally killed everyone. He was insane and not in the right mind.

but then the writers make him make a plan to frame Harley and booster so he can have time to release all the footage he found as a way to do good for the world what??? people anonymous confidential therapy sessions to louis lane as a way to do good in exchange for his murders and framing others. He also time traveled to kill himself and get a body??

Wally has a segment where everyone tells him he's hope or something. Plus him reliving his Titan days. Him using the stupid mask. But I can't make a sense of it. Because mentally ill people are more likely to hurt themselves than others. The comic perpetuates harmful stereotypes even if Wally killed by accident.

worst part is the writer make it a good thing showing bunch of cameo characters who came to therapy because they realized they weren't alone due to the released recordings???

so Wally was insane enough to lose control and kill and yet still manage to make a supervillain ass plan to frame and kill himself. the story's point is lost in this nonsense.

Plus Clark didn't tell Bruce or Diana about louis having the recordings and only told them after releasing them to the public. What happened to patient confidentiality??? Do superheroes not have rights? Clark went on a spiel about being a reporter- So being a reporter means stomping other peoples rights and outing their private info. The time travel nonsense didn't make sense even with my drawn diagrams to make sense of it. So I'm just left confused. The conclusion is this vague shit where its ok to get help and hope something.

third thing the premise: The premise is mental health institute yet, the writer shown they know nothing about mental health Sanctuary isn't run by people. its run by an AI. The place has chambers where heroes can go in and make anything they want. Any scenario. Now imagine mentally ill people with no guidance and just using the chambers for whatever they want. Wally was using it to relive his dead family in fantasy lala land. Lagoon boy was reliving his ptsd again and again and again Gnarrk was the only one who it helped and that's because he wasn't mentally ill in the way wally or lagoon were. He was just lost and used it as a guidance because he already knew his own issues. Yet dc tries to frame the chambers as a helpful thing and heroes are getting better You cant expect me to believe that after watching wally ignore the AI's questions and pretend has back with his family in a fantasy. The comic is an insult to mental health.

Again, we don't know why 90% of the heroes are at sanctuary. They are just killed off after one appearance. Plus, Jason canonically never went to therapy. Roy was killed off for shock factor. Green lantern apparently doesn't know what "WILL" is... Harley Quinn's word is taken more than Boosters-

I have so many more things I could say but if I have to list everything wrong in this comic this review would be longer than my future. I DO NOT recommend this comic. It's trash and save your sanity. Not even the retcon of this comic salvaged it. Over all, The only good thing in this was Harley and booster interactions because it was funny. That's it.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Fire on the Mountain - Chapter Two: Gods and Monsters

Pairing: Otto Hightower (House of the Dragon) x OFC (Lia Costayne) Warnings: Angst, arranged marriage, canon typical sexism. Word count: ~10.2k

Chapter summary: A terrible secret threatens to bring an abrupt end to Lia's friendship with Rhaenyra and Alicent, and Otto finally shows his hand with regards to his intentions for her.

Author's note: Header by @foxinthegodswood who also beta read this for me - this story would be nothing without you. Thank you for the care and attention you have put in both myself and my writing. I love you.

“My darling Lia, 

I hope you are faring well. By the time you read this, it shall be your name day. I can hardly believe that you are now fifteen. It seems as though it was just yesterday that you were placed into my arms, red faced and squawking – Ser Otto tells us you are growing into quite the young beauty, I hope that we may lay our eyes upon you ourselves soon. Alas, we cannot make the journey to the capital to deliver our warm wishes in person. I have recovered from my fever, but my health remains delicate – I must remain abed until I have regained my strength. Short walks in the sea air are helping to keep my spirits lifted, but I fear a journey across the continent would be too much for me. I hope you understand. Please do not be disheartened, and try not to worry.

Enclosed is a gift for you – a token of our love, but also a reminder of your house, so that in your absence you do not forget it. “The First to Rise”. I hope you shall wear it with pride. Your father and your brothers, Robert and Leon, send their love and their well wishes. I hope you are conducting yourself in a manner that would make us all proud.

Happy name day, my only daughter.

Your loving mother, 

Lady Dyana Costayne.”

Lia allowed the parchment to flutter down upon the table top;she had read it so many times now that she was certain she could recite it by heart. Once more, she snatched the brooch from the now torn paper it had been wrapped in, turning it around in her fingers, watching as the silver of it caught the light. It was a chalice, one of the symbols that adorned the sigil of House Costayne. It was pretty, but pretty was not enough to placate the hopeless sense of abandonment that plagued her. She allowed the brooch to drop heavily on top of the letter it had accompanied, just as its shape began to blur from the tears that obscured her vision.

It had been six months since the King’s tourney for his now deceased son, six months since Lia had first received news of her mother’s ill health and learned that her family would not be attending. Each month since had delivered news that was much the same;sudden bouts of fever that left her mother confused and bedridden. She knew she should not be surprised that they would not come to see her for an occasion as trivial as her name day, the last time she had seen any of them had been when she had first arrived in King’s Landing. They had come to enjoy the hospitality of Viserys, and to offer Otto their congratulations on his recent elevation to the position of Hand of the King – it had not even been a visit to see her.

She remembered the smell of almond oil that had clung to her mother’s hair and skin as she had pulled her into a tight embrace. It was cloying and sweet, and overwhelmed her senses. She had not seen her mother for two years and, at the age of eight, such familiarity following a long separation was jarring. It had left her feeling sick. A similar nausea settled within her stomach as she cast her eyes away from her writing desk, breathing deep in a desperate bid to will away her melancholy. She would not cry upon her name day, even if she felt she had every reason to. Not a single person, save for her immediate family, appeared to have remembered, and their gift seemed so impersonal; a simple brooch did little to ease the weight of loneliness that fell upon her delicate shoulders. Though, how could they have given her anything else? As her gaze fell upon her bed, taking the crisp, white linens that were pulled taut at every corner, it occurred to her that she was more familiar with every thread that had been woven together to make up the sheets upon where she slept than she was the face of the woman who gave her life. She was as much a stranger to House Costayne as they were to her, and what could you possibly gift someone unknown to you that would hold any meaningful sentiment?

Lia rose from her seat, leaving both letter and brooch discarded upon her writing desk, and walked towards the floor length looking glass that was propped against the wall nearest the privacy screen where she dressed each morning. She leaned towards the reflective surface, dabbing beneath her eyes with the pads of her fingers, ensuring no trace of her sorrow remained before she faced the world. She turned her head, ensuring her raven curls remained fastened into a tight bun at the nape of her neck; satisfied that they had not shifted, she smoothed her hands over the bodice of her powder blue gown, and headed for the door.

Rhaenyra almost fell against her as she opened it, her own hand in the motion of pushing it inwards. Lia rolled her eyes as she caught the other girl by the shoulders, steadying her in the doorway.

“Gods, ‘Nyra, do you ever knock?” she asked exasperatedly. It was a rhetorical question; Lia already knew the answer was a resounding no. Rhaenyra was a princess, and now the heir to the Iron Throne. She never had to ask permission, she just took what she wanted, including her own friend’s sense of privacy.

“You are so ugly when you scowl,” Rhaenyra teased, a soft smile upon her lips as she raised her hand to stroke her fingers across the peachy softness of Lia’s face. “Come with me.”

Her gaze was soft, yet imploring, her blue eyes sparkling with mischievous intent and, as she withdrew her hand, Lia could not help but notice the state of her fingernails – they were clean. It was not unusual for Rhaenyra to stroll about the castle clad in her riding leathers, stinking of dragon, with her hands caked in grime from the pits in which her mount, Syrax, resided. Today, however, she smelled of bergamot. The faint scent clung to her skin, her long silver hair falling about her shoulders but not quite obscuring the loose peplum that adorned the cream coloured gown she wore. She had either just come from a meeting of the small council or was on her way to one. It seemed she was taking her duties as heir seriously. It was an odd sensation to see Rhaenyra lend any sort of care to what others thought of her, like telling the tide not to turn or the moon not to wax and wane. 

“Where are we going?” Lia asked, stepping out into the corridor and pulling the door closed behind her.

“To choose the newest addition of the Kingsguard,” Rhaenyra replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Lia wanted to protest, to tell her that it was not her place to decide such things, her involvement was needless. The words died upon her tongue as Rhaenyra interlocked the fingers of her left hand with those of Lia’s right. Her grip was loose yet intimate, allowing for their arms to swing gently between them as they walked. In that moment, as they held hands, all of Lia’s sorrow surrounding her name day seemed to vanish, her entire world narrowed to the sensation of Rhaenyra’s hand in hers. A sense of calm settled over her as she stole glances at her friend as they walked purposefully through the winding labyrinth of Maegor’s Holdfast.

‘I hope you will hold my hand forever.’

“Will Alicent not be joining us?” Lia asked as they stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the inner courtyard of the Red Keep.

“No,” Rhaenyra replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, stepping onto the set of wooden steps that had been placed in front of the stone balustrade to allow her to see over it better.

Lia wanted to press the issue, however, off to their right was Ser Harrold Westerling, his gaze steely, and posture rigid as he stood tall in his armour and white cloak. His presence did not broker a welcoming atmosphere for idle gossip, so she fell silent, allowing her gaze to sweep across the men gathered below, awaiting their audience with the princess.

It struck her as she looked upon them that they were spread out in a similar fashion to how cyvasse pieces are placed upon a board. She wondered if she called out for a dragon to remove an elephant from the board if they would assemble themselves to mirror the move as it is played in the game. She smiled to herself at the thought, blue eyes sparkling with amusement, until she felt the familiar weight and heat of a hand upon her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. The smile disappeared from her face, her gaze remaining fixed ahead as she willed her heart to cease its sudden thumping against her ribs.

“Is there something that amuses you, Lady Lia?” Otto asked quietly, the subtle disapproval in his tone unmissed by her. His breath was warm against her ear and the gentle brush of his beard against the exposed juncture of her neck sent a shiver up her spine.

She had not been anticipating the Hand’s presence, and silently cursed herself for not having a witty response as she meekly shook her head, a timid sounding “no” leaving her lips.

Otto hummed in acknowledgement, stepping away from her to stand beside Rhaenyra’s elevated platform. She could still feel his hand upon her shoulder like a brand – it happened every time he touched her of late; a gentle hand upon the small of her back to guide her as they walked together, the soft brush of his fingers upon her temple as he tucked away an errant curl, they all left a blaze of heat in their wake, an uncomfortable coiling in Lia’s belly that made her cheeks flush and her mouth run dry. She hated it. She craved more of his touch while simultaneously never wanting for him to ever lay a hand upon her again.

As Ser Harrold called out each of the Knight’s names, listing off their attributes and history of service and battle, Lia’s attention was not focused on the men below, but instead how Otto loomed over Rhaenyra, whispering to her.

“You might thank him for his leal service,” she heard him advise.

She knew that as Hand of the King it was Otto’s duty to help with the recruitment of the Kingsguard, to ensure the best possible knight was placed in service of protection of the ruling monarch, and yet she could not shake her jealousy, nor could she understand it. As Otto leaned conspiratorially towards the princess and she in turn lifted her face to his, Lia was grateful for the long bell sleeves of her gown, for they hid the way her hands balled into angry fists. He used to whisper like that to her. Ever since he had begun orchestrating visits between Alicent and the King, it seemed she was of no use to him; she could not tell him anything he did not already know. A bitter, acrid taste rose up in her throat, enveloping her tongue. She was certain that if she were to speak now then every word would hang in the air, dripping with poison.

Forcing herself to look ahead, she bites back a scoff as Ser Criston Cole steps forward. The very same knight that had looked up at Rhaenyra during the tourney, and requested her favour with moon-eyed adoration. Lia’s head snapped to the side, wide eyed in disbelief and annoyance as she heard Rhaenyra state him as her choice.

“He is the only one to have known true battle, the rest are tourney knights,” she reasoned to Otto.

It was so like Rhaenyra to pick someone who fawned over her, and it was becoming more than apparent to Lia that her presence here was not really needed at all. She pushed away from the balcony edge, stepping quietly back through the doors of the Keep. There were enough reminders of her own unimportance, what with Rhaenyra being named heir and Alicent secretly courting the widowed king, without Lia being given another reason to feel like a spare part.

She walked the winding halls until she found her way to the Godswood, seating herself against the peeling white bark of the trunk of the Heart Tree, and turned her face up towards the vivid red and orange canopy of its leaves. The ground was hard beneath her, the roots lumpy against her backside, doubtless dirtying her skirts, yet she could not find it within herself to care. The sun shone warm and dappled through the branches, drawing Lia into a doze she was powerless to resist, yielding to the heaviness of her eyelids as they drifted closed.

“There you are.”

She awoke to the sound of Alicent’s voice and the gentle touch of her hand upon her shoulder, giving her a careful shake. Her eyes blinked open, vivid blue meeting those of warm brown and, for a moment, she wondered where she was. 

‘Such a pretty view, have I died and the Maiden has come to guide me?’

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she took in her surroundings, green grass and gnarled roots in place of soft sheets and pillows. Realisation settled upon her as she looked back up at her friend who wore the slightest smile of amusement upon her lips as she gently plucked a stray crimson leaf from Lia’s dark curls, allowing it to flutter delicately to the ground.

“What are you doing sleeping out here? Rhaenyra and I have been looking for you,” she scolded gently, offering out a hand to help Lia to her feet.

Lia gratefully accepted her outstretched hand, moving to dust off the back of her dress as she stood. Her voice was still sleepy, nonchalant as she answered Alicent’s question while craning her neck behind her to see if her skirts were muddy. “‘Nyra wanted me to help choose a knight for the Kingsguard.It was boring so I left.”

Alicent’s loud, disapproving sigh drew Lia’s attention back to her. She turned, eyes raking over her friend from head to foot. She was wearing another of her mother’s dresses – this one a deep, royal blue with cutouts spanning the length of each sleeve. To Lia, she looked ridiculous, a little girl playing at dress up to appear more grown up than she actually was. She held her tongue, deciding it was not worth the quarrel for her to tell her so.

“Come,” Alicent said, her tone leaving no room for argument as she looped her arm through Lia’s, “your presence is needed elsewhere.”

Lia groaned, yet allowed herself to be led away. “I have had just about enough of my presence being needed today.”

“You will enjoy this, I promise,” Alicent smiled, tightening her arm in Lia’s reassuringly as they walked.

The solar had been filled with wildflowers, delicate hues of pink, yellow and white adorning every available surface. Lia took in the beautiful sight, eyes wide and lips parted in quiet admiration. Rhaenyra stood before the rounded table at the room’s centre, a wide smile upon her face and her hands clasped in front of her as Lia entered.

“You thought we had forgotten, did you not?” Rhaenyra teased, stooping to grab a silver platter laden with lemon cakes and Tyroshi honey fingers and carrying it towards her and Alicent.

“You did all of this for me?” Lia asked in quiet wonder as she turned in a full circle to admire the flowers, before looking upon the assortment of sweet treats held out before her.

“Happy name day, Lia,” Alicent said fondly, finally releasing her arm and reaching up to place a flower crown upon her head of raven curls.

The three girls reclined upon couches set in a semi circle around the table, the cakes and pastries now placed back upon it. Lia watched in quiet amusement as Rhaenyra leaned forward, plucking the candied lemon slices from each square of cake, placing them whole into her mouth. She had always had a larger appetite for everything than her and Alicent, and Lia supposed it was an inevitability of being royalty – when you were worth more, you needed more, an unbreakable cycle, an inherent hunger.

“So, how shall we spend the rest of our afternoon?” Lia asked, plucking idly at the tassel fringe of a cushion she held against her torso, as she sprawled out on her side against the plushness of the couch.

“I thought we might go to the sept,” Alicent offered, her attention focused upon a daisy that she twirled between her fingers. Her head rested against the cushions of the settee she laid upon, her legs bent at the knee.

Lia bristled at the suggestion, unable to stop her disgust from making itself apparent on her face as her features twisted, lips drawing downwards and nose wrinkling as she turned to look for any hint within Alicent’s serene expression that would suggest she was making a rare jest. Lia found none, but was mercifully spared the need to object by Rhaenyra.

“Why ever would we want to do that?” she asked haughtily, licking honey from her fingers as she lounged upon her front, silver hair falling forward around her like a silken curtain.

“I would like to pray for my mother,” Alicent said matter of factly, moving to sit up and swinging her legs over the edge of the couch, “and I thought we might pray for yours too.”

The room fell silent, and Lia immediately felt rotten for having reacted negatively to Alicent’s suggestion. From the way Rhaenyra slowly moved to prop herself up on her elbow, her gaze downcast, it was apparent the sentiment was one that was shared.

“The sept it is then,” Lia agreed softly, tugging her flower crown free from her hair as she rose to stand.

Despite the drafty, old stone of the Grand Sept, it was stiflingly hot within as they descended the steps, the heat of the candles burning bright within making sweat prickle upon the back of Lia’s neck. Alicent led her and Rhaenyra towards the large, circular dais that sat in the room’s centre, the top of it laden with lit votive candles. White wax dripped in enormous stalactites from the edge.

“I come here to be close to my mother,” Alicent told them, taking a wick and lighting her own candle, “I thought perhaps you could do the same, Rhaenyra?”

Lia shifted uncomfortably, twisting the rings upon her fingers as she looked upon the flames. The Hightowers were a pious house, and though the Costaynes followed the faith of the Seven, they did not observe quite as strictly as those they were sworn to – at least Lia did not.

“I would not know what to say,” Rhaenyra confessed, clearly sharing in Lia’s discomfort as she hesitated beside her friend.

“Then do not say anything,” Alicent insisted, giving her sleeve a gentle tug, “just contemplate quietly.”

Lia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as Rhaenyra complied, kneeling beside Alicent and clasping her hands in front of her. She wondered if in some unknown realm, leagues away, a god of Old Valyria looked upon Rhaenyra’s actions with disdain. She pondered how Daemon, or even Viserys would react if asked to do the same, and fought the urge to smile.

“You too, Lia,” Rhaenyra said, turning her head to look up at her.

“I have no one to pray for,” she admitted, shrugging slightly, “none of my family have…have died.”

She felt almost embarrassed to allow the last of the words to leave her mouth, as though she was being prideful in flaunting something she had that they did not. If either Rhaenyra or Alicent felt that way, they did not show it.

“No one needs to have died for you to pray for them,” Alicent explained, keeping her hands folded in prayer as she turned to look at Lia. “Just kneel with us.”

Lia gave a slight nod, sighing softly as she knelt beside Rhaenyra. She placed her hands together and closed her eyes, but she did not pray. Instead her mind wandered to the last time she had visited this very same sept with her mother, when her family had visited King’s Landing all those years ago.

“Now, Lia, you must light a candle and pray for our safe travels back home,” her mother had urged her, pushing her towards the dais with a firm hand upon her back.

Lia had not prayed for her family’s safe return for the Whispering Sound. Instead she had prayed that her family could stay with her, so that she could be as happy as both Alicent and Rhaenyra were, surrounded by loved ones.

Her prayer had gone unanswered, and her family had left the next day. From that point onwards, Lia never prayed again, deciding that if there were any gods at all that they had decided she was unworthy of listening to, in which case she thought they were unworthy of speaking to.

As Lia made her way back to her chambers, she was met by Otto. He strode purposefully towards her door, drawing up to his full height in front of her as she paused at the sight of him. Her hand stilled its movements upon the door handle as she looked quizzically at the small wooden box he held in his hands.

“I had not forgotten what day it is,” he told her, the corners of his eyes crinkled in softness as he looked down at her. “Forgive me for leaving it so late, I have been otherwise occupied, but I have a gift for you.”

Lia’s eyes moved from the box, up to Otto’s face and then back again, a mixture of nerves and suspicion fluttering in her belly at the kindness and warmth he regarded her with. “What is it?”

“Allow me to show you inside,” he gestured towards the door, and Lia nodded, pushing it open and stepping forward as he followed close behind.

She watched curiously as Otto made his way towards her writing desk,her maidservant having long since tidied away her brooch and the letter from her mother, and set the box down upon it, taking a seat in the same chair that she had sat in that very morning.

“Come closer,” Otto gestured, before reaching for a sheet of parchment and the lit candle that sat upon the table.

Lia stepped towards him, her body feeling like a tightly coiled spring. She had never felt so uneasy in his presence before, and a part of her longed to flee from the room, to burst into Rhaenyra’s bedchamber just as the princess had done to her that morning, and demand sanctuary from the uncomfortable sensations that swirled within her body.

She bit back a gasp as Otto’s hands reached for her hips, firmly but not forcefully guiding her to perch upon his knee. It was nothing she had not done before – as a child, she and Alicent had shared Otto’s lap countless times while he read to them from history books. Alicent had always paid rapt attention, while Lia usually fell asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the comforting scent of sandalwood that seemed to permeate Otto’s very essence. Sitting on his lap now, however, caused a stirring within her that made Lia’s cheeks blaze. She was so tense she feared she may shatter apart at the slightest touch. 

“I had this made specially for you,” Otto explained, clearly oblivious to her discomfort as he pulled a block of golden yellow wax from the box and melted it over the candle, letting it drip onto the parchment he had in front of him. 

As it pooled upon the page, Lia could see that it was the same shade of yellow as her house colours. Without realising, she leaned back against him, allowing her back to rest against his broad chest as he took a stamp from the box, encouraging her to grip the wooden handle as he wrapped his much larger hand around hers to guide it.

The contact made her breath hitch, and she sat frozen, only able to focus on the sensations of his warm, calloused palm against the back of her hand, and his sturdy thigh pressing into the underneath of her clenched thighs.

Otto pressed the stamp firmly into the wax, holding her hand there for a few seconds, before pulling it back. “If you press too lightly, the stamp will not take,” he explained, “there, can you see that?”

He let go of her hand, taking the stamp from her as she leaned forward over the desk to examine the impression that had been left in the wax. It was a circular sigil, and she recognised within it two roses from that of House Costayne, however, in place of chalices there were flames.

“What are those?” she asked, hovering her finger over a flame, careful not to press it into the still solidifying wax.

“Ah,” he rumbled from behind her, and Lia was certain she could hear a smile in his voice, “those are the beacon flames of House Hightower.”

“But why?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she twisted around in his lap to look at him.

Otto smiled softly, but his expression gave nothing away. “You will make much use of this, I am sure,” he told her, patting her softly on the hip as he made to move from his seat.

Lia sprang off of him as though she were a cat on a hot roof, though found herself suddenly heavy with disappointment at the loss of his proximity.

“Now, get to bed,” he said cooly, standing and smoothing his doublet, his expression once more becoming the look of stern disapproval she had grown used to, “the hour is late.”

She lifted the parchment as he strode from the room, examining the rose and flame sigil, pondering its meaning. She was overcome by the sense that once she discovered the truth of it, she would not like what she found, and allowed the page to slip from her fingers. It fluttered to the tabletop just as the door closed heavily behind Otto.

Lia came to stand beside Rhaenyra the following morning, as the princess looked out upon the gardens from the wall walk of the Keep. Despite the gentle breeze and warm sunshine that shone down upon them, making the lush greens of the gardens seem more vibrant than usual, Rhaenyra’s expression was pensive, her gaze hardened, mouth pinched in the way it did only when she was annoyed. Lia followed the line of Rhaenyra’s sight, catching a glimpse of Viserys walking beside Laena Velaryon. Laena looked tiny compared to Viserys, and Lia could not help but silently wonder what the King would want with a child.

“Lord Corlys has seen fit to offer a betrothal between his daughter and my father,” Rhaenyra said, as though sensing Lia’s thoughts, her tone was clipped with annoyance, her eyes never leaving the gardens below.

“She is only twelve though,” Lia said, her eyes widening in horror, trying her best to push the images that flashed through her mind away, none of them pleasant.

“Well, apparently, Rhaenys has told her that she will not have to bed him until she is fourteen.”

Rhaenyra turned to look at Lia then, and though her expression remained angry, there was a desperate sadness held within the depths of her gaze. Lia tilted her head sympathetically, reaching out to give her friend’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

“He named me as his heir, why must he remarry?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lia did not know how to answer that, but knew her silence would offer little comfort either. “He is not attempting to replace you,” she offered gently, “but he is the king, he is expected to take a wife.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, shaking her head as she looked back towards the gardens, her expression hardening to anger once more.

“If not Laena, it will be someone else eventually,” Lia told her.

Lia followed as Rhaenyra walked away. She had meant to offer comfort, but it was obvious that in speaking the truth she had unintentionally hurt her. As they rounded the corner of the wall walk, Rhaenys came into view, sat upon a wooden bench, clearly observing the same view that they had just been.

“It bothers you, does it not?” she asked Rhaenyra with a cat-like tilt of her head.

Lia shot Rhaenyra a look of apology as she slipped away, acknowledging the elder princess with a bow of her head before going back inside. She had never felt comfortable in the presence of Rhaenys. Much like the ferocious Red Queen, Meleys, whose back she flew upon, Lia always had the sense that Rhaenys possessed the ability to tear people apart, though with words instead of rending jaws and blistering fire. She had no desire to hang around for the inevitable dressing down that Rhaenys would give her friend, lest the attention be turned upon herself. Silently, she withdrew without even a farewell to either woman, and slipped into the halls.

Alicent balked at the sight of Lia, her eyes widening slightly and her lips pressing into a tight line as they happened upon each other in the empty corridor. 

“Another present for me?” Lia asked teasingly, lifting the lid of the small wooden box that Alicent held in her hands.

“Must you be so nosy?!” Alicent snapped, snatching it away and slamming the lid closed once more, but it was too late, Lia had already seen what was inside.

She recognised the small stone dragon from the model of King’s Landing that Viserys kept within his apartments. Rhaenyra had snuck them into the room when they were younger, and they had giggled raucously as they had moved the little models about the makeshift city streets, finding the very idea of a dragon visiting the Street of Silk so funny that tears of laughter had rolled down their rosy cheeks. It had been less funny when Ser Westerling had happened across them and they had received a scolding for their trespass, mercifully lenient owing to the princess’ involvement.

“Why do you have that?” Lia demanded, her stare piercing as it fixed upon Alicent’s.

“It is none of your business,” she answered simply, leaving Lia to stand there and watch as she walked away.

Really, she did not need to ask, she knew Alicent had continued her visits to Viserys at the request of her father. It was a secret she hated keeping, and for that reason alone she hoped that Viserys would agree to marry Laena Velaryon. Her friendship with Rhaenyra and Alicent would never be the same again if Otto had his way.

Lia kept a distance from Rhaenyra and Alicent over the next few days. She loved them both dearly, but Rhaenyra’s petulance regarding the inevitable betrothal of her father and Alicent’s continued secret courting of him put her in a position that made her squirm with discomfort. She preferred to exist in solitude than endure a situation where she would unleash chaos by speaking the truth or be complicit in deception if she did not.

She sat upon the settee in her chambers, her legs tucked beneath her as she leaned back against the window sill. The early afternoon light that streamed in illuminated the pages of the book she read, the tome perched precariously within the fingers of her right hand – it was a tale of a heroic knight, rescuing his lady from the clutches of a monster.

Lia scoffed as her eyes trailed over the part where the knight valiantly draws his sword, challenging the beast that holds the maiden captive.

“Wait until he realises she is friends with a princess and rides off to save her instead,” she murmured quietly to herself.

She looked up as a soft knock fell upon her door, snapping the book closed. “Come,” she called out, watching curiously as a timid looking page boy opened her door the smallest of fractions, peering through.

“Apologies for the intrusion, my lady. The Lord Hand has requested your presence in his apartments.”

“What for?” she asked curtly, annoyance prickling at her at the hesitation in the messenger’s tone and body language. It was borne of politeness, she was sure, but she found it far ruder to have to address a floating head than she would if he simply stepped into the room.

“Forgive me, my lady, he did not say.”

The boy’s expression was simpering, apologetic and, unable to stand his presence a second longer, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “I shall be there momentarily.”

It was a short walk from the space that Lia occupied within the castle to where Otto resided. She knew the route well, could have traversed it with her eyes closed, and yet she found herself dragging her feet, prolonging the journey. The memory of him pulling her into his lap burned fresh in her mind, if she closed her eyes she could still feel the press of his chest against her back, the touch of his hand as it guided her own. It was not the proximity that she wished to flee from, however, but the way she craved more of it.

“Did the messenger not impress upon you the need for haste?” Otto asked, brow pinched in annoyance as she entered his apartments, keeping her spine rigid against the solid wood of the door as she closed it gently behind her.

“I am afraid he did not,” she said, eyes raking over him from head to foot. He stood before the lit fireplace, which served as the only source of light in the large chamber. He cut a formidable silhouette within the gloom of his surroundings, dressed in the green of House Hightower, strapped into the iron plating that protected his middle.

She wondered how he had looked in his youth, when he had served as a knight, if he had been as stern then as he was now, or if he had charmed his way into the heart of Alyrie Florent with kisses to the hand and demands of her favour.

His lips pressed into a tight line, an expression that made Lia immediately want to grin triumphantly as she knew she had frustrated him. “I need you to assist me with my armour,” he told her, beckoning her closer.

Lia stepped towards him, the heat of the fire coupled with the feverish blush that broke out across her pale skin made her want to claw herself free of it. Instead, she busied herself with tightening the straps that held his faulds fastened. “It looks as though your squire has done most of the work for you already,” she commented, “could Alicent not help you with the rest?”

“Alicent is with the king,” he replied firmly.

Lia was grateful for the fact that Otto had his back turned to her, so that he missed the way her eyes flashed with anger as she glared at the back of his head. He was not even trying to hide it from her anymore.

He turned, holding his arms out towards her, and she reached over to the table where his gloves rested, picking one up and focusing on the feeling of the supple leather beneath her fingertips as she tugged it gently over his large hand. “Where are you going, anyway?” she questioned, attempting to mask her fury with curiosity as she lifted her eyes to meet his intent gaze.

“To Dragonstone,” he replied, as she helped him into his other glove, “and that is all you need to know,” he added quickly, as if sensing she would press for further information.

He was right of course, a thousand questions raced through her mind – what could he possibly need upon that desolate rock? It sat empty, the seat of House Targaryen that Rhaenyra would inherit one day and do as she pleased with. Otto had no business being there.

She sighed, allowing her gaze to drop as she stepped away from him, but Otto was quick to follow, closing the space between them as he gently grasped her delicate jaw in his hand, urging her to look back up at him. The leather of his glove was soft and warm, and she fought the urge to nuzzle into it.

“It is important that you grow accustomed to assisting in this manner, Lia,” he told her earnestly, “it will become a routine for you sooner than late.” 

Her brow furrowed in confusion, unable to make sense of his meaning. He raised his other hand to rest upon her cheek, cradling her face as his expression softened considerably, his hazel eyes searching the blue of her own. “You will be good while I am gone?”

Her breath hitched, it felt as though all the air had been stolen away from her lungs. She placed her hands against his chest, her fingers clutching the thick quilting of his doublet, as she forced herself to grin, an attempt to dissipate the tension. “I am always good.”

Lia could still feel the press of Otto’s gloves upon her face as she leant against the balustrade of the wall walk that overlooked the gardens. Despite the crispness of the air, her skin still felt heated, even though more than an hour had passed since Otto had departed from King’s Landing.

“You look as unhappy as I feel,” Rhaenyra’s voice startled Lia from her thoughts, and she turned her head to see the princess coming to stand beside her, resting her forearms upon the stone ledge as she leaned forward to look out to the horizon.

“I would rather not speak of it,” Lia sighed, turning her attention back to the gardens below. “And what of you?”

“My uncle,” Rhaenyra said bitterly.

“I suppose that makes a change from it being your father,” Lia smirked, “but what has he done? Your father told him to return to the Vale.”

“Since when has Daemon ever done as he is told?” Rhaenyra scoffed. “He has stolen the egg meant for my brother and taken up residence upon Dragonstone.”

Lia’s lips parted in shock at the realisation, as the reason for Otto’s swift departure now made sense. She could not envision Otto being able to convince Daemon to stand down without there being significant bloodshed – the two men despised each other. She knew Rhaenyra was well aware of this too and, as she turned to look at her, she could see from the determined set of her jaw and her piercing gaze that it was not something the princess would leave unchallenged.

“You want me to talk you out of doing something stupid?” Lia asked, turning to face her fully.

Rhaenyra shook her head, pushing away from the balustrade and reached for Lia’s hand, keeping it clutched between both of her own. “I would go to Alicent if I needed to be convinced not to do something. I am asking for your support, and your silence in this.”

Lia sighed, her shoulders sagging as she cast a withering look at her friend. “‘Nyra, I–”

“Lia, please,” Rhaenyra begged, her brows arched in a look that bordered upon despair. “My uncle will listen to me, you know he will, but I need to leave here without my father or Alicent knowing, because they will try to stop me. If they ask after my whereabouts I need you to lie. Promise me – promise me – that you will give me time to get to Syrax before you say anything.”

In answer, Lia tugged her hand free of Rhaenyra’s, and pulled her into a crushing hug. The scent of bergamot mixed with smoke filled her nostrils as she pressed her face into her long, silver hair. “Please, please be careful.”

Come nightfall, neither Rhaenyra or Otto had returned yet, and Lia’s thoughts raced, anxiety coiled like a serpent within her belly as she sat up against the pillows in bed, unable to shake the idea that Daemon had hacked them to bits with Dark Sister.

Her door being gently pushed open followed the soft knock upon it, and Alicent stepped tentatively through it, the pink of her nightgown so pale it could easily be mistaken for white in certain light. She held her hands in front of her, her cuticles picked bloody as she stared at Lia with uncertainty in the depths of her brown eyes.

“It has been a long time since I have fallen asleep without both my father and Rhaenyra here,” she explained quietly, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “and…forgive me, it was a childish thought…”

“No, wait!” Lia called out, as Alicent turned back towards the door. “It isn’t childish, I do not wish to be alone either.”

Lia pulled back the covers, patting the space beside her, and Alicent’s face softened, a small smile tugging at her lips as she moved towards the bed and climbed in beside her friend. For a long moment, Lia was convinced that Alicent would simply fall asleep as the silence stretched heavy and uncomfortable between them. Her fingers stroked idly at the soft linen of the bed sheets until finally Alicent spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think I am a good person?” she asked.

Lia huffed back a soft laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous question in the world. “You imbecile.”

‘You are the best of any of us.’

Alicent smiled, though it was a tight and uncomfortable thing that did not reach her eyes. “I fear Rhaenyra will no longer think I am…”

“I am guessing you know where she has gone?”

Alicent gave a slight nod. “Word of it got back to Viserys from the dragon keepers. He is furious.”

Lia glanced sideways at Alicent, it puzzled her how she could speak so casually of the king, as though she was being allowed to peer in on a secret that she had no business knowing.

“Do you wish to marry him?” Lia dared not speak his name or title, to mention either would be to fabricate it into something tangible, something that could not be undone.

“My father wants me to,” she replied simply, clutching the bedcovers tight against her chest.

“That is not what I asked,” Lia chastised softly. It had always irked her the way that Alicent made a habit of avoiding speaking her own thoughts and desires, simply existing through the whims of others. “But you know, Laena may end up being the one, and then…then you would be free.”

“I am not sure free is a word I could ever use to describe myself,” Alicent leaned in, resting her head upon Lia’s pillow, and Lia moved closer. She had no words of wisdom to offer, nothing that could quell the worry in Alicent’s heart, she simply hoped her presence was enough. Sinking down into the bed, she allowed herself to be lulled to sleep by the comforting presence of being cuddled near to the closest thing she would ever have to a sister.

Lia squealed, her heart practically leaping in her ribcage with happiness as she flung herself towards Rhaenyra the next morning. She had strode towards Lia in the courtyard, a proud smirk upon her face, still clad in her riding leathers. She was dirty and smelly, and the stench of brimstone was an assault on Lia’s senses as she crushed the filthy leather of the princess’ chest against the pristine brocade of her own. It mattered not, she had never been more pleased to see her.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Lia teased gently as she pulled back, discreetly checking Rhaenyra for any sign of injury.

“I am unharmed,” Rhaenyra reassured her.

“And the egg?” Lia asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Back where it belongs,” Rhaenyra’s glove clad hands tugged Lia by her forearms into the nearest alcove, her voice becoming hushed. “I have been thinking about what you said, about Laena.”

“And?” Lia urged, unresistant to Rhaenyra’s manhandling of her. She cocked her head impatiently.

“It occurred to me when I confronted Daemon how easily he could have cut me down, to reclaim his position as heir, what he believes is rightfully his,” Rhaenyra explained, never relinquishing her grasp of Lia. Lia wrapped her slender fingers as best she could around the sleeves of Rhaenyra’s riding jacket, an attempt to mirror the gesture. “I am all that stands between Daemon and the throne. Perhaps…perhaps it would not be so bad if my father were to remarry, if only for any subsequent children he sires to push Daemon further down the line of succession.”

Lia felt relief wash over her like a refreshing wave, heaving a gentle sigh. “It gladdens me to hear that, it is inevitably going to happen at some point, whoever it is–”

“It must be Laena,” Rhaenyra insisted, and Lia’s relief dissipated so quickly it may as well have never existed at all, “it would unite the last of the Valyrian houses in the realm and ensure the continuation of our bloodlines.”

Lia gave Rhaenyra a tight smile, hoping desperately that her face did not betray the secret she harboured for Alicent, nor the disgust that roiled within her belly at her friend’s explanation. The incestuous customs of House Targaryen had always seemed strange to her, and something she avoided paying any mind to as much as possible. “Of course,” she said quietly, “it should be Laena.”

“Where are you going?” Lia asked, her arms dropping limply to her sides as Rhaenyra pulled away from her and turned to walk inside.

“To receive the scolding I am owed,” she called over her shoulder with a smile.

‘Gods, please let it be Laena that Viserys chooses.’

The next time that Lia saw Otto, he was striding towards the small council chamber, with Alicent at his side. He did not spare Lia a second glance, his steps quick and purposeful as his daughter hurried to keep pace with him. Alicent never attended meetings of the small council, and as she passed Lia, their eyes met for the briefest of moments. Lia immediately knew from the haunted look in Alicent’s stare and the grim line her mouth was pressed into what was about to happen – Viserys had made his choice.

She felt sick to her stomach, and though she knew it was better to stay away, she was unable to resist the pull towards the closed doors of the chamber. Lia kept a safe distance, so as not to be told to go away by the white cloaks posted outside to keep watch and prevent intrusions. She paced nervously, certain she must be wearing down the stone of the floor as she walked back and forth, twisting the rings on her fingers as she silently prayed to any god who might listen that Viserys would choose the Velaryon girl, and not tear apart the only thing in this lonely place that brought her any joy.

After what felt like an eternity, Lia froze, her pulse racing as the doors to the chamber burst open and the hulking frame of Corlys Velaryon stormed down the corridor, his dark features twisted into an expression so angry it was almost a snarl. It was not the face of a man who had just been given the news that his daughter would be queen; it was the face of a man spurned. Lia’s heart sank like a stone in a pond. For the second time in her life, Lia affirmed that if indeed the Seven did exist, they were deaf to her pleas.

Rhaenyra hurried out shortly after Corlys, and it was the sight of tears streaming down her cheeks that finally spurred Lia into action as she moved towards her friend.

“I hate her, I hate her,” Rhaenyra choked out, not resisting as Lia wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. They remained that way, awkwardly stumbling through the Keep, back towards Rhaenyra’s quarters, as Lia attempted to hush Rhaenyra and soothe her angry sobs with gentle words and calming sounds. The pair were so fixated on one another that neither stopped to notice if anyone else in the castle might take note of their commotion, and if they had then neither Lia or Rhaenyra would care.

Rhaenyra came to perch on the edge of her bed, eyes red and watery as she swiped at the tears upon her ruddy cheeks with jerky, angry movements.

“I am afraid I do not have a handkerchief,” Lia said softly, sitting beside her, their hips grazing slightly. It was a meek attempt at comfort, to lighten the mood, to take Rhaenyra’s mind and her own off of the fact that their happy little trio had been torn asunder. It was unsuccessful.

Rhaenyra’s fists bunched in the skirts of her golden gown, exhaling heavily to calm herself. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “My father is going to marry Alicent. Alicent! Of all people, how could she do this to me?”

Lia reached out, placing a hand over one of Rhaenyra’s hands as it continued to ball up the silk of her dress, and squeezed gently. “It was not her choice. Her father made her.”

She realised what she had said the moment Rhaenyra recoiled from her, blue eyes widening momentarily as she snatched her hand away, as though scalded by Lia’s touch. “You knew.”

It was an accusation, not a question, and Lia could not bear the weight of it. She turned away, placing her hands in her lap as she lowered her gaze. Shame was never an emotion that Lia had worn well, and in this very moment she had never felt uglier than beneath the scrutinising stare of one of her dearest companions.

“You knew and you did not tell me,” Rhaenyra’s voice had grown quiet, voice laced with spiteful anger, the beginnings of a dragon drawing back to spew forth fire.

“It would not have made a difference if I had,” Lia admitted sadly, a look of pleading in her eyes as she finally raised her head to face her.

Rhaenyra was too far gone in her fury to be reasoned with. Her eyes narrowed in contempt as she regarded the girl next to her with something akin to hatred. “Out,” she commanded.

Lia shrank back slightly, but made no further attempt to move, her heart twisting painfully in her chest as tears of her own blurred her vision. “‘Nyra, please–”

“Out! Get out!” Rhaenyra shouted angrily, jumping to her feet and shoving forcefully at Lia. Lia stumbled backwards, grasping fruitlessly at the princess as fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “Get out!”

Lia managed to duck out through the door, quickly closing it behind her just as a hair brush clattered loudly against the wood. She made no attempt to compose herself, walking quickly through the winding corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast, with a hand clasped over her mouth to muffle the sobs that forced their way out of her throat, threatening to choke her. As Lia rounded a corner, she came face to face with Alicent, her own eyes tearful as she pulled to a stop, looking utterly miserable as she stood in front of Lia.

“I am sorry,” Alicent whispered, her fingers plucking absentmindedly at her fingernails as she clasped her hands in front of her.

Lia breathed a watery sigh, lifting her eyes to the ceiling as she smoothed a hand over her curls.

Not now. Not now. Not now.

“So am I,” Lia finally told her, meeting her stare, “but right now…right now I cannot bear to look at you.”

She moved around Alicent, walking away, not trusting herself to look back, selfishly focused upon her own upset. Lia knew that the moment she looked upon her friend’s sad, vulnerable face her resolve would crumble to ash and she would shove all she felt aside to comfort her. Right at this moment she needed to wallow in her own misery, not tend to anyone else’s.

Lia wallowed for weeks, existing within the Keep as a mere spectre, mourning the loss of her friends. She knew that she should reach out to Alicent, that she must be feeling every bit as scared and sad as she was, if not more – after all, she was having to marry a man she had not asked for. But she could not bring herself to take the first step and bridge the chasm between them, the idea of doing so felt like a betrayal to Rhaenyra. She had not spoken to Rhaenyra since she had demanded that Lia leave her room, and Lia doubted that appearing to have taken Alicent’s side would shift them closer to reconciliation. She felt stuck, trapped in her own misery, and she knew that Otto Hightower was to blame – the man who had pushed his only daughter towards the king, in the pursuit of his own ambition. She avoided him as much as she could, speaking to him as little she could get away with, not trusting herself not to erupt at him just as Rhaenyra had done to her. The confusing rush of heat she felt whenever in his presence had not gone away, but it had been dwarfed by bitter resentment.

The morning of Alicent and Viserys’ wedding, Lia caught sight of Alicent as she walked past her chambers. The doors had been left open, to allow for the scurry of maidservants all coming and going as they attended to her, readying her for the ceremony.

Alicent stood elevated upon a wooden step stool, in front of a full length looking glass, draped in a backless gown of ivory lace. Her auburn curls were piled high upon her head, adorned with a high set tiara inlaid with iridescent pearls and sparkling diamonds. She looked beautiful, but it was not this that struck a chord with Lia, it was how tiny, vulnerable and alone she appeared. She still looked every bit the little girl playing at dress up, just as she had in her mother’s clothes when her courtship with the king began. But this time Lia was not left fighting the urge not to mock her, this time she wanted to offer comfort to her friend, because she looked absolutely terrified.

Lia stepped into the room, silently unapologetic as she was met by the frustrated huffs of the maidservants she pushed past in order to get to her friend. She came to stand beside her, meeting Alicent’s gaze in the reflective surface. Alicent remained upon her step stool as a stout woman knelt before her, placing hasty stitches into the hem of her dress, but she reached out an arm, draping it around Lia’s shoulders and pulled her against her waist. Lia clung tightly to her, as though grasping a lifeline after weeks of being set adrift.

“Do you hate me?” Alicent asked quietly as she continued to look at Lia in the mirror.

“You imbecile,” Lia breathed, hugging her tighter. ‘I love the bones of you.’

The ceremony itself was a tense affair. Despite the fact that the grand sept was filled to capacity with well wishers for the impending nuptials, Lia’s gaze was honed in upon Rhaenyra, who sat on the opposite side of the aisle to her. Lia could practically feel the ire radiating off of her. The princess kept her gaze fixed ahead, eyes filled with malice as she watched her father drape his cloak around Alicent’s shoulders. Her lips were drawn into a petulant pout as she kept her arms crossed around her middle.

“You ought to be watching the wedding, not the princess,” Otto leaned in to whisper to her from where sat beside her.

Lia scowled at the flush of pink that dusted across her cheekbones at the brush of his beard against the shell of her ear, and wordlessly turned to face the front. She would not grant him the privilege of her attention or her response.

She barely touched her food at the wedding feast, but the same could not be said of the wine. Seated between Otto and his son, Gwayne, at the head feasting table, Lia did not look at either of them, her attention focused solely upon the jug in front of her. She repeatedly lifted the pewter receptacle to fill her cup with Dornish red. The burn in her throat was a pleasant distraction to the misery that sat further down the table on either side of Viserys. She found the gradual lightheadedness helped her to care less about how subdued Alicent appeared, to pay no mind to Rhaenyra’s sullen face. Were it not for the jaunty tune being played by the musicians in the corner of the hall, the atmosphere could easily be mistaken for a funeral and not a wedding.

“Perhaps you might speak to Gwayne?” Otto urged gently as he leaned in to speak quietly to her. “He has traveled from Oldtown to be here today.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” she said, her tone dripping with petulant defiance, content to ignore the red headed young man beside her.

As she reached forward for the wine jug again, Otto gently grasped her wrist, staying her hand. “I think you have had enough,” he warned, the stern intonation one she was painfully familiar with.

“Allow me to respectfully disagree,” she slurred slightly, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she finally turned to look at Otto, “must you be so boring?”

“Up. Now,” Otto commanded, rising from his seat. Though he kept his voice low enough for only her to hear, the anger that blazed within her eyes as he stared expectantly down at her left no room for argument.

A stone settled in Lia’s stomach as she rose from her seat, unsteady on her feet as she followed him through a side door, into a quiet and empty passageway of the Keep.

He rounded on her as the door closed behind them, the anger in him now at a simmer instead of boiling over. “You are in your cups, and I think it best you retire for the evening, lest you embarrass yourself.”

“I am not yours to command,” Lia bit back, staring up at him defiantly, even as she swayed with the effects of the wine, her limbs feeling much too heavy to cope with the fuzziness that clouded her mind.

“Must you always be so disagreeable?” he demanded, nostrils flaring in irritation.

“Must you always ruin everything?!” she shouted back, hating the way her voice wobbled as a lump formed in her throat.

Otto furrowed his brow, eyes searching her face in confusion. “What exactly do you mean?”

Inhibitions lowered, Lia allowed the floodgates to open, hiccuping around sobs as she lunged towards Otto, slapping her hands weakly against the crushed forest green velvet of his doublet as she raged at him. “You have married Alicent to Viserys! You made her! You took away my friends! Alicent will be queen, but what of me? What of me? You have forgotten me!”

He caught her wrists, holding them tight against his chest, until the fight left her, and she slumped against chest, crying quietly. Only then did he release her, his arms coming to wrap around her, holding her gently against him. The smell of sandalwood surrounded her, soothing her, and she allowed her eyes to close as he gently stroked her hair.

“My darling girl, I could never forget you.”

His voice was the gentlest she had ever heard him sound and she pulled back slightly, her large tearful eyes meeting the soft understanding reflected in his as he looked down at her.

“I wanted to wait until the wedding was over to tell you, but it seems there is no point in delaying any longer,” he said, his hands coming to rest upon her shoulders.

“Tell me what?” Lia asked, feeling dread begin to coil within her belly.

“When Gwayne returns to Oldtown, you will go with him. The two of you are to be married.”

Otto broke the news with a prideful look upon his face, eyes glittering as he smiled down at her, as though bestowing a great gift upon her.

Lia felt the bottom fall away from her world, her heart and stomach dripping endlessly with it.

‘I do not want this. I do not want this.’

She felt as though she could not breathe, the urge to tear at her bodice to ease the restriction of her ribs became almost overwhelming. Pulling out of Otto’s grasp, Lia turned and ran, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the unwelcome news he had just delivered as possible.

For the third time in her life, Lia found herself beseeching to gods she did not believe in.

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[crowley-winter-boots]

Instead of humouring the messages in the screenshot, I would like to make a post regarding people who think this way. DO NOT LOOK FOR THIS INDIVIDUAL OR HARASS THEM. I know people like to jump the gun and do that online, so please don't bother with it. I am making this post to address, that you can in fact, still protest without attending mass protests and that not everyone is able to attend those mass protests.

(*Notice how I didn't "name call", I said "I won't reply anymore as I'm PRETTY SURE you're trolling." I was making an observation based on past experiences, and I'm still convinced they were only saying this to cause problems.)

You CAN still protest without going to larger protests. Its OKAY if you can't attend those large protests.

Here are some ways you can help out if you're unable to go to a protest!

Spread the word

One of the best ways to get people to attend is to tell other people about it! The more people that know, the more that can know when and where to show up.

Find a way that fits you to do something as an individual

There are a few ways you can go about this, but here is what I've personally been doing:

- I've been wearing a pride flag to school. Specifically, the trans flag. Pride flags banned from hanging up in schools? Nothing in the dress code that denies it. It will make people angry and confused, but it will also make people like you feel seen. I've had a lot of negative reactions from students and teachers alike, but there have been fellow queer kids who walk up to me and talk to me about my flag, often saying they wish they had one of their own. I'm planning on painting "WE THE PEOPLE" on it soon (I was going to this weekend, but there was too much going on and I didn't want to start a project I couldn't finish before school on Monday.)

- Make a battle vest (or any other punk fashion, such as crust pants!) I've been working on mine, and will post the patches and progress soon. I've been meaning to make one for a while for myself, but put it off until recently. I'll also make a post going more into detail on how you can make punk fashion yourself, and the ideology of punks.

**PLEASE NOTE. Both of these can be dangerous. Especially wearing a pride flag, as there is't anything that can make it safer. With the punk fashion, there are ways to make it safer, and I'll go more into detail on that on my other post: but essentially, you don't want any political statements or pride flags on the back. You won't see anyone coming, and they'll be less likely to attack you if they see it from the front.

Talk to local activist groups to set one up in your area

I'm not too sure about how this process works, as I haven't yet contacted any local activist groups to set up a protest. I'm not even sure if that's how you CAN set up a protest, but I asked around and this was the answer I had gotten. I'll make an update once I figure out how to set up a protest and if I personally was able to (and the details of the protest, ofc!)

Make signs or stickers to post in your community

There are a lot of ways you can make signs and/or stickers! I've never made a sign myself, so you'll have to do the research yourself for that, but you could make them as flyers with paper as well. But with stickers, they're relatively easy to make! I sold some for a while, and made about $250 off of it in just a few weeks by selling them on my school campus. You just need a pack of sticker paper (GLOSSY makes it shiny, MATTE makes it flat like printer paper,) a printer, and some kind of art app to import your images on. Fitting stickers is like a jigsaw puzzle- you'll need to rotate them at weird angles and fit any nook into any cranny. Find patterns, repeating patterns will make the process easier. The goal is to have as little white space as possible- but that being said, leave enough room between each sticker to give a solid border. A common mistake I made when I first started making stickers was overlapping the edges.

Join communities online

Discord servers are a good way to find online communities for people who want to oppose the American government! I am in a server that shares resources, information, protest days, and more. I can share the link in DMs, and you can also look online to find more.

Start a social media platform

That's what my blog is for! I'm posting online as a form of protest. There are a number of social media platforms (except Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok....) that you can advocate on. I do believe Tumblr and YouTube are the safest ones, and therefore have the biggest communities on there.

Buy banned books

THESE WON'T BE SOLD ANYMORE, SOON. They are information and knowledge the government is afraid of. The Diary of Anne Frank is on the list, which just goes to show how far they're going in this. They know they're fascists. They know America is going through the same beginning stages of a fascist dictator's overtake of a country. You can find a lot of these secondhand before they're gone. Find PDFs online of the books and download them in a place they can't be deleted. Physical copies are much better to have as they can't be taken away.

Pirate and get physical copies of music

Alphatron, FMovies, those are good sites for live action. WCO.tv is a good site for cartoons (and as far as I know, perfectly legal online archive!)

Learn how to burn CDs. Collect CDs. Collect vinyl records. And please, for the love of the Gods, DON'T USE SPOTIFY. I used Spotify because it was the easiest option for me, but they financially supported Trump's campaign. I switched to YouTube Music. Even the free version of Spotify supports the company- every song you listen to and every advertisement you sit through puts more coins into their bank account. I also have a vinyl collection I've been growing for 3-4 years. I'm thinking about learning how to burn CDs and get a Walkman (I currently don't have money, but I'm looking to get a job soon.) Like with the banned books, physical copies are the best. They'll have to pry it from your cold, dead hands.

That's all I have for now!! Feel free to add onto this with your own ways to protest and/or additional information from what I've already put.

[clericsandpaladins]

In my opinion, if there were ever any feelings, they never went farther than a puppy crush based on Mike's admiration of El.

I agree that he definitely thought he was in love with her due to the societal pressures placed on him. I believe that was the case up until the end of S3, perhaps maybe a little bit after that as you can realize a fact like that (your sexuality) and still convince yourself otherwise. I mean, he clearly made an effort after telling the others he loved El because of the blank makes you crazy scene, he just couldn't.

After all, friends don't lie.

Honestly, I don't care too much about what sexuality the Duffer Brothers make Mike. Whether it be gay or bisexual, I just know that he's queer and that is honestly enough for me. I don't think it's likely they'll put a label on Mike within the show but I can see them doing so outside of it, similar to how Noah was the one to reveal Will's sexuality definitively, though they made it pretty clear throughout the series.

give me your answers and your reasons in the reblogs :))

honestly i think he never loved her because if he did he would've mentioned the moment he actually fell for her instead of lying (yes Finn confirmed he was lying), plus Mike nodded when Will said "what if they don't like the truth?" and why wouldn't El like if Mike fell in another moment? (because it's not true, he never fell for her), to me he's so gay, i know he said he never felt that way before with anyone else but i think it's just admiration for her and her powers because he couldn't even put it into words and their relationship is built on forced conformity and Mike trying to be normal and his guilt about not being able to love El the way she wants to be loved, although i think Mike thought he was in love with El until she kissed him in front of the closet and he felt nothing and he didn't even kiss her back and kept his eyes open (after him and Will flirted), i think he did mean it in s3 when he said he loved her but he meant it platonically and El thought he meant it romantically just like how in s4 he couldn't say it to El because she wanted him to say it romantically but during the monologue he was able to say it because he meant it platonically, plus in Heartstopper Imogen thought she liked Nick and Ben but it was actually comphet and she's a lesbian.. just saying

i'm talking about this

[craftexchange]

Hi! I’m not someone who normally like, sells or talks about my crafting too much, but this is such a cute idea! Plus, I just learned to knit socks, and I would love the chance to practice more.

The yarn would be what I used for the left hand photo, a reasonably thin multi-strand maroon/blue/white. (I’m low on sock-weight yarn right now because I haven’t done socks before this year, but I unraveled a sweater I never wear (90% acrylic, 10% polyester, machine wash cold and dry on low) so I have plenty of this.

You would just have to tell me 1. Length you want for the ankle (not like, knee or thigh-highs, please, just like your preferred height for a normal every day sock, excluding heel) 2. Circumference of your ankle or calf (depending on sock height obviously) 3. Length of your foot from heel to toe, and 4. Which kind of a heel you want (the left-hand sock is a German short row heel, which you can’t see well with that yarn but is very neat looking and similar to what you find on a store-bought sock. It can be kind of narrow, though. The right-hand sock has a heel flap and gusset with instep decreases, which is common on handmade socks, and from what I’ve read often is more comfortable for people with larger or wider feet). If you have an opinion on how long you want the ribbed (cuff) part of your leg to be you’re welcome to tell me that as well.

It’s been taking me a little over a week to knit one pair of socks, I’m knitting a pair right now, and I have one more lined up after this, for an idea of timeline. For full transparency the two pairs of socks pictured here are both pairs of socks that I have ever knit (not including the unfinished ones on my needles), although by the time I knit socks for any exchanges, I will have knit four pairs of socks, lol. They will be quite simple like these, no cabling or anything which wouldn’t show up well with the yarn I have anyway. But I can put little white accent stripes on them like I have here if you’d like!

Oh, I suppose I could also make amber and pearl earrings:

For some reason I can’t find other pictures in my camera roll even though I have done a few of these. Ignore the tarnish on the hook lol, this one is mine that I’ve worn a lot, obviously I have bright and shiny new hooks for strangers. I would just do whatever sort of design I felt like, but you could tell me if you want something fairly simple like this with just two or three beads or something fancy. It is real amber and real pearls, I have a whole little bag of each plus those little baby manufactured pearls at the top (still “real” in a sense- they’re made of mother of pearl, so it’s like, pearl stuff, just ground up and shaped more precisely into a nice round shape) and as you can see each one is going to be a little bit different but I do match the size and shape as best as I can for a pair of earrings.

I could probably do, idk, up to 4-5 trades? 4-5 of each? Earrings I can knock out in an evening whereas the socks take a bit of time, as I’ve said. I’ll ship within the US.

ISO: nothing in particular? Am I allowed to say I’ll just accept trades that interest me without having specific parameters as to the type of craft? My tastes in most things, clothing/accessories/art/decor/etc tend towards vintage. I like 40s-50s (mostly femme) fashions, and antique furniture. I like plants and outer space and retrofuturism and sci-fi, I garden, I sew. I try to be environmentally conscious in my purchases and use of resources. I like art and fancy pretty things and useful trinkets, but not so much knick-knacks and tchotchkes (well, I do like them, but my surfaces are pretty cluttered already).

OP: @alagaisia

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

8 - You Had Me From That First Hello

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: nothing spectacular just some raunchy language from Jake and Tyler and pregnancy/baby talk

A/N: This chapter and the next are kind of a jumble of stuff because Jake and Sam need to go back to California soon and figure some things out lol. Nothing special with this one just lots of pregnancy/baby talk! Thank y'all for continuing to read! Hope you enjoy! Gifs by @kaizsche, pictures from Pinterest! As always likes, comments, reblogs, etc. are so so appreciated! This one has some song notes through out so hit play on those for the full experience!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @dizzybee03 @barnesboo1967 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

It always ended the same way. Tyler and Jake would go for a short drive, out in the back forty and listen to whatever music they had on hand. This particular time, Jake had graduated Top Gun, top of his class and he’d come home to tell Kenny, Jeanie, and Tyler in person. They were going to celebrate later on, but not before the boys had their own little festivities, which included a jaunt through the wilds of Arkansas in Tyler’s new truck. Tyler had just gotten a beautiful red Dodge dually, diesel, 3500. Bone stock, but Jake knew that his brother was about to modify the shit out of it. After Jake had put his bags down in the living room, hugged his mother and Kenny, Tyler nearly dragged him out the door and pushed him toward the passenger side. Jake hopped in and they set off down the road. Tyler wanted to test the truck out first with his favorite person in the world. Jake.

They cranked the radio, Tyler putting his spotify on shuffle, with a country playlist like they always went for when they headed out on adventures. The drums, tambourine, and guitar all melded in through the speakers and out the open windows. Tyler had his cowboy hat on, a new one he’d just gotten and sunglasses, and Jake had a backwards baseball cap, one that used to be Tyler’s, and his own set of sunglasses, his favorite pair that he kept on him exclusively for show. He only wore them up in a jet, or with Tyler in the truck. 

As the lyrics flowed through the speakers, Tyler hummed and Jake stuck his arm out the window, his smile wide. When the chorus came up, both boys belted out the lyrics.

“I need a pretty little homegrown hometown girl, with a ribbon tyin’ back those waterfall curls, I been lookin’ all over all over the world, for a pretty little homegrown hometown girl!” They sung in unison, glancing at each other and smirking. 

“I know exactly who you’re talkin’ about, T.” Jake pursed his lips. He knew Tyler was still on about the girl who’d left him. Jake knew he would always be about that girl. He believed those two were soulmates, just put together at the wrong time and they’d find each other again. Damn it if Tyler wouldn’t do everything he could to find her. In the meantime though, Tyler would joke that Jake is his soulmate. 

“You talkin’ about anyone in particular?” Tyler asked, his hand gliding along the fresh, new leather of the steering wheel. The truck smelled new and they both couldn’t get enough of it. It was a comfortable ride, and Tyler was the only person that Jake trusted to drive. That was why Jake could never be a back seater. He couldn’t handle having someone in control of where they were in the air, but on the ground, he’d give up all of that to Tyler. And no matter how sketchy things got, he always put his faith in Tyler. 

“Nah, no one. I’d like a little hometown girl though. Pretty little brunette maybe? Big tits and a big ass? Someone that’d look fuckin good on my arm at Navy Balls and all that shit.” JAke said and Tyler blew air from his lips.

“Yur a slut, y’know that?” Tyler joked and Jake reached over and punched him in the shoulder lightly. “Not from our hometown though. Ain’t none’a these girls good enough for you Jake, I tell ya.”

“Nah, maybe a California girl. Pretty, tan, and like I said, brunette. She’s gotta be a brunette. God, I’d love a hot little brunette to be sitting on my couch in my Cowboys jersey, watching football on a sunday. Fuck.” Jake shook his head and Tyler couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips. He glanced over at Jake, who smirked and tilted his head. 

“Yeah and I’d take a cute lil’ blonde barrel racer girl that I could have a few kids with, a farm and go roping on the weekends. Maybe we can watch football, but maybe we could go do fun shit with the kids too.” Tyler’s smile faded slightly and then he shot a look at Jake, whose jaw stiffened. 

“Don’t ruin the mood you jackass.” Jake chucked a bottle cap at Tyler that he’d found lodged between the seats. Brand new truck and his brother already had crap everywhere. “Don’t get sentimental on me, you dick.”

“I’m not...I’m just...I don’t know. I’m gonna miss ya, Jakey.” Tyler said and Jake grabbed his brother’s shoulder. Tyler turned down a dirt road and pushed the truck a little faster, letting the suspension and tires do some work. The boys were quiet as the next song came over the speakers, making them grin. They belted the song, both of them tapping their hands on the outside of the truck as Tyler steered the monster through thickening brush and low, muddy spots.

“Gotta git down, gotta git down to Arkansas, havin’ so much fun that it’s probably a little bit against the law! All the boys and the girls down there sure know how to have a ball! If ya wanna git down gotta git down to Arkansas!”

The truck bumped along and almost bottomed out, crunching sticks underneath its six tires and heavy frame as they navigated out of the worst of the trail. On the other end was a clearing, a big field that ended at a small cliff, where it overlooked the Arkansas River. They were just in time. Tyler parked some feet from the edge and both boys climbed up onto the roof of the truck, the newly installed rack above the cab the perfect spot for them to sit. Their legs hung off in front of the front windshield and Jake pulled two cans of shitty beer from his sweatshirt pocket, handing one to his brother and cracking his own open. They gazed up at a darkening sky, watching as a storm began to build just on the other side of the river, several miles away. It was heading away east from them so they weren’t worried about it.

“There might be a tornado in that one.” Tyler said, pointing toward the front of the storm. Jake’s brows raised.

“You gonna take me on a chase any time soon?”

“Yeah when you come back from your next deployment. We’ll go. I’ll have the truck modded out by then. It’ll be able to withstand an F-1 at the least.”

“You're nuts. But I believe in you. I know you’ll get it done.”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

When Tyler and Georgia brought Jaycen home for the first time, there was a palpable fear between them. They didn’t know how to care for a kid. Sure, they’d read some books, talked to everyone they could, got a hundred opinions, but now it was up to them to really figure it out. 

They knew the first week would be exhausting. They had already been running on fumes, so any chance they got to sleep was going to be key. Jaycen was pretty consistent about sleeping. He’d be down for a couple of hours and then wake up, begging for something to eat. They’d decided it was best for them to do mixed feeding, so that if Georgia was too tired, Tyler was able to take over and feed Jaycen. Jake and Sam had also volunteered to help out, figuring they could use the experience if they wanted to have kids too. 

Samantha had really taken to the little guy. The tufts of hair on his head were her favorite thing and she gently brushed them back and forth when she held him. Jake’s favorite thing about Jaycen was that he was kind of a sassy little boy. He would stick his chubby little fingers in his mouth when he wanted food and then, and he only did it to Tyler and Jake, would smack them on their arm several times while his bottle was being prepared. Tyler was determined to keep the temperature consistent, not too hot and not too cold. Georgia appreciated his attentiveness not only to Jaycen but also to her.

When Georgia was feeling particularly tired, Tyler would bring Jaycen to her, that way if she wanted to feed him in bed she could. Georgia already adored the little boy, who had the same sage green eyes as his father. She loved looking into his big green eyes, full of curiosity for the world in front of him. Tyler’s favorite thing about the small human was that he would just stare at Georgia, his focus never leaving his mother. He understood that, because he felt the same. He loved Georgia and he knew that the little boy would love her too. 

The great thing about having Jake and Sam around was that they could help with everything on the farm. Tyler had delegated to Boone for anything for the channel and they’d made a short video introducing the newest storm chaser. There had been a lot of congratulations but there had also been some salty comments from the sore losing fangirls who thought they’d had a chance with Tyler. They even went so far as to comment on Ophelia’s videos that she’d taken of Georgia helping her, saying that Georgia didn’t know everything. Georgia would be the first to admit that though, so it didn’t bother her. Ophelia shut down everyone that came into her comments, defending her mentor fiercely. 

As for the Wranglers, there was the pro-Georgia camp and the anti-Georgia camp there. It was really just a couple of recurring girls who were pissed that Tyler had flirted with them once or twice at a bar or at a rodeo and they never got their chance with him. Tyler made it a point every time he was on the stream or in the chat that any Georgia hate was not allowed. He was even slightly passive aggressive at times, which it seemed some people actually enjoyed. He’d make comments like ‘god I love my wife so much’ or ‘can’t wait to get back out there chasin’ but am really gonna miss my wife and kid’. 

During that first week that Jaycen was home, Kate had taken over the channel with Boone. Even though they both had significant others at this point, they were still a highly chaotic couple when they were together. Boone thought it was hilarious when Kate drove, because she was honestly a bad driver. She sped far too often and hit the brake far too late most of the time. She had no consideration for either truck, so much so that Tyler and Boone were constantly sending her trucks so that she could get her own. They would do all the modifications of course and help make it perfect, but she really needed her own so that she could stop crashing and trashing theirs. 

For the first week, Tyler and Georgia kept Jaycen close to the house. The dogs were absolutely ecstatic to have the bundle of joy around. They constantly followed whoever had Jaycen in their arms, their eyes focused on the boy. Pancake loved to sit next to them on the couch and try to lick Jaycen’s feet. It would make the little boy giggle and squirm to the point he would get the hiccups. 

Grits was very protective of the boy. He would sit by whichever parent had him, almost on top of their feet and survey the room constantly. The red heeler would whine when Jaycen cried and howl when he laughed. Waffles was the one who got right up in Jaycen’s face. She would sit on the arm of the couch, touching her nose to the top of his head or sneaking in a lick to the baby’s face when she thought Georgia or Tyler weren’t looking. 

Georgia wanted so badly to take Jaycen out to the barn, but she knew they should wait. The waiting was hell though. She could see from the kitchen window that Ducati would stare at the house, as if he knew his rider had come into this world. She couldn’t wait to introduce the mustang to his kid. 

“You know how much more I love you? I mean...I loved you before, obviously...but now..it’s just tenfold. You made my dreams come true, Peach.’ Tyler said softly, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He peered down at his son in her arms and his heart overflowed with happiness. Georgia hummed and tilted her head, touching her temple to his. She blinked slowly as she looked from the squirmy bundle in her arms, to her proud husband. She leaned back against him, and he began to sway back and forth. 

“I love you too, Tyler. And I love our son too.” She murmured softly, letting him rock her gently. The motion comforted Jaycen, making him close his eyes, and drift off to sleep again. 

“Wish I could sleep as much as him. I think I’ve barely slept the past couple weeks.” Tyler admitted, letting his lips travel to Georgia’s neck. They ghosted over the skin, sending a shiver down her spine, bringing forth a smirk. 

“Wait until he’s older. We won’t get any sleep. We’ll be zombies.” She joked, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she enjoyed the protective presence Tyler offered. She felt so safe in his arms. She would even go so far as to say, her anxiety had decreased by at least half. She had a new brand of anxiety, but it was over caring for Jaycen, not the actual birth. That had scared the shit out of her, but as she’d told Tyler, the pain and stress had been well worth it now that they had their first child. 

“And...now that you’ve done this once...” Tyler began but Georgia stopped him, her words gentle and reassuring to him.

“Yes, Tyler, I do want another kid. And I can’t wait to see Jaycen grow up. I think he’s gonna be a lot like you.” She yawned then and Tyler chuckled. 

“Why do you say that?” Just cause he looks like me, don’t mean he’s gonna be like me. He might be like you and if that’s the case, we’re in for a wild ride. He’ll be a daredevil.” Tyler said. Georgia’s brows furrowed and she turned in his arms, sandwiching Jaycen gently between them. Tyler leaned down to kiss Georgia and then he pressed a light kiss to Jaycen’s forehead. 

“He’s quiet. I know they said you can’t tell much about them now, but I think he’s going to be smart. He just stares and you can tell he’s trying to figure things out.” Georgia explained and Tyler nodded in agreement. 

“Maybe he’s admiring his loving mama, just like his daddy does.” Tyler said, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, She pressed into his hand and glanced up into sage green. There was warmth there, and a reverence that Georgia would never quite get over. Tyler worshipped the ground she walked on, and there were times she still couldn’t believe that, after all she’d put him through. 

“He’s asleep. We should go put him in his crib.” Georgia said softly, meeting Tyler’s gaze. He agreed and he motioned for her to hand him Jaycen. She did and he took the boy up the stairs, Georgia following closely behind as they snuck up to the nursery to put him down for another nap.

It had warmed up significantly over the next week or so, giving Tyler and Georgia the opportunity they were hoping for. They dressed Jaycen in warm clothes, courtesy of their friends and family, and brought him out to the barn to see the horses. As they made their way down the aisle, Georgia said the name of each horse and pointed. Tyler followed closely behind, watching the little boy’s face light up as each horse stuck their nose out toward him. Georgia was careful, not letting them nibble or get too close, just enough to sniff. They walked out the back of the barn to the pen where Ducati was standing.

As soon as the mustang saw the bundle in Georgia’s arms, he walked toward the three humans and nickered softly. He stuck his nose through the bars of the panel fencing and Georgia let him sniff the little boy. Ducati whinnied quietly and his ears shot forward. There was a softness in the mustang’s eyes that Tyler recognized.

“He knows that’s gonna be his rider one day.” Tyler said, rubbing his hands up and down Georgia’s arms. 

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

Sam and Jake had been getting a crash course in raising a small human. Because they were able to, they did one feeding a day for Jaycen for that first week, hoping to give Tyler and Georgia some reprieve. Usually in the middle of the day, so that if Tyler had to run to the store he could, and Georgia could sneak out and check on the horses. Ophelia and Lennon had come to help, offering to do whatever Dustin couldn't. 

Tyler had to run to the grain store, leaving Georgia home with Jaycen. Jake elected to go with him, and Sam stayed with Georgia just in case she needed any help. They hopped in Georgia’s truck, as it had the open bed and headed off. 

“This is a pretty nice truck. This is hers?” Jake asked as they headed out the driveway. 

“Yeah, she’s had this since she started rodeoin’. It got trashed last year durin’ chasin’ season. I’ve been workin’ on fixin’ it for the entirety of her pregnancy. Finally got it fixed. No frame issues thank god, but I don’t know that I trust it to tow a trailer anymore after that.” Tyler explained.

“How’d it get trashed?”

“Tornado rolled it. Gee said they were goin’ pretty fast too. She got a concussion from that. Her two friends were in it and they were okay just scared the shit outta them.” 

“That sucks. She still want this truck?” Jake asked. Tyler raised a brow.

“Why, you wanna buy it?” 

“I don’t know. I kinda like it. It’s not a girly truck. It’s nice.” Jake mused. Tyler smirked at him as they pulled down the main street in Stillwater, heading through town to the store. 

‘You’re goin’ home soon aren’t ya? Tyler asked. Jake nodded.

“I do need to get back to work. They wanna do a physical and mental eval. Then they need to see if I can hack it up in a jet again. It’s not the flying I’m worried about at all. That comes second nature to me. It’s the leavin’.”

“You got the dogs though. She’ll be fine.”

“How’d you know Georgia was pregnant?” Jake asked, rolling down the window as Tyler slowed up and turned off the main strip.

“She was real sick one mornin’. Peed on a stick. It was positive, so we made an appointment with Doc Halstead and went through all the shit there. I went to every appointment too, even if I was gonna be chasin’. Rushed home for one cause I didn’t wanna miss seein’ his little heart beat.” Damn, Jake...I really love that kid already.” Tyler turned into the feed store lot and parked in the front. The nice thing about their local store was that they could order by phone or online and they got a notification when it was ready to be picked up so all they had to do was go in and give their phone number. Georgia ordered enough every week for a half a pallet, so they would use the forklift and place it in the back. When Tyler got it home, he used the forks they had for the tractor and lifted it off and placed it in the front of the barn so the only lifting that had to be ever was to put the bags in the grain room.  

“Sam and I have...yuh know...like a lot...and she’s not showing any signs.” Jake said as he was about to get out but Tyler stopped him. One of the employees had seen Tyler and waved him over to the loading dock. They knew by now that he had an order, he barely had to get out of the truck.

“Doc said all women are different and even all pregnancies are different. She said she had one woman who was sick the entire pregnancy, had to be bed ridden for the last trimester and then her next one she kept working and felt fine up until a week before her due date. Said it depends on the environment and how you take care of yourself. I’m a lot healthier than I used to be. Doc said it’s not just the women. Has to do with the guy too.” Tyler explained as he backed the truck to the dock. The employee pulled the tailgate down. 

“Sam and are are pretty good about eating healthy and what not. We exercise, stay fit.” Jake said, as he watched the employee place the half pallet of grain and supplements in the bed carefully.

“So maybe her body is just like ‘everything’s fine’ right now. When you get home if you’re really that worried, have her go to a doctor. You should talk to her about it though.” Tyler said as the employee waved to him and closed the tailgate. 

“I know, I know. We have...sort of. She’s scared to have kids.” Jake said as Tyler drove out and headed back toward home.

“Why?” He asked, glancing at Jake.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that she would be carrying around another human for nine months or if it’s because I almost died on that last deployment...”

“I venture t’guess it’s the latter. She doesn’t wanna have a kid, have all the dogs, and then get a letter from the Navy sayin’ hey your husband died flyin’ a jet, sorry. She’s scared to lose you.”

“I get it, but..she knew what she was getting herself into. Her father was an aviator too.”

“But how long was her father an aviator and deployed on missions before she grew up and understood what she could lose? And you said her father just passed not too long ago. I’m sure that weighs heavy on her mind.”

“Yeah she had lost someone else too before that.”

“Well so there’s exactly why she’s so scared. And I’ll bet she doesn’t want that kid growing up without a dad, Jake. I know you’re gonna be a great dad, but you do have to be a little sensitive to her feelings too. Don’t be so hard on yourself either. And damn it, just talk to her, like we’re talkin’ right now. Put everythin’ out there.”

“You always give the best advice.” Jake said, staring at his brother.

“You do too when I need it. That’s what brothers are for though. To give each other advice.” Tyler said and then he turned up the radio slightly, letting the music take over and fill the comfortable silence that had entered the truck. Jake’s thought traveled back to California then as he stared out the window and across the fields of wheat and corn. He had come to wonder if California was really the place for him and if he wanted to have a family out there, or if he wanted to come back home and try to raise a family here. He wanted to be close to Tyler. He’d always been his safety blanket. His balm when things got rough, so why wouldn’t he want to be closer to him and his parents. 

But he had to think about Sam too. California was all she knew, except for going to Harvard  for college, but even then she had gone home as much as she could. It was a discussion that they needed to have and Jake just didn’t know how to start it or where to start with it. He’d been putting it off for so long it felt like a monster feat to try to bring it up but he knew he needed to do it. Maybe talking all of it out before they went back to California would be the best thing, so that they could manage expectations of each other when they got back and really evaluate whether or not this was what they wanted, now that they’d gotten a taste of this life.

When they arrived back at the ranch, Tyler started up the tractor and swapped the bucket fo the forks so that he could move the pallet. Jake directed him and then once he’d placed it down, Jake began moving bags into the grain room. Tyler left the tractor running.

“You mind putting the grain in the bins? I just wanna go drag the arena. It’s my five minutes of peace and quiet to myself.” Tyler said and Jake nodded. He watched as Tyler walked up to the house quickly, meeting Georgia on the porch. She had Jaycen in her arms and the dogs all came piling out of the front door. Grits, the red heeler, peed on the grass by the first step and then ran, leapt up into the cab of the tractor and sat, waiting for his human. Jake observed for a few more minutes, watching his brother kiss his wife on the lips and kiss his newborn son, all bundled in clothes and a blanket, on the forehead. All Jake could think of then was that he did in fact, want this life. He wanted to come home to Sam and a baby. He wanted everything that Tyler was sharing with him. 

He sighed as he saw Tyler step down from the porch and Georgia walked back inside, already looking like a pro with Jaycen in one arm and the door held open for Waffles, the only one of the dogs that wanted to come back in. The little blue dog ran inside and Jake watched Tyler hop into the tractor cab, Grits taking up his place on his human’s lap, and heading off to drag the ring. Jake continued moving the bags of grain and dumping them into their respective barrels. He was almost done when he heard light footsteps coming into the barn. 

“Hey, handsome.” It was Samantha. Jake, as he crumpled up the last bag and put it in the recycling bin, smiled wide. He stepped over to her, dusting his hands off and then wrapping them around her waist. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He said softly, pressing his lips to hers. They stayed in that moment, lips just touching, no tongues, no passionate forcefulness, just love between them. Jake was the one who broke the kiss and then his green eyes stared into the warm chocolate brown of Sam’s.

“Can we talk about some things before we go home?” He asked, and she nodded, allowing him to guide her out to the back of the barn so that they could speak in peace and private. They leaned against Ducati’s panels, the horse walking over immediately to say hi. Jake reached through the bars and placed his hand on the gelding’s forehead and scratched softly. 

“What do you want to talk about, Jake?” She asked, reaching for one of his hands. He glanced down and then back up at her, eyes full of concern. Sam clocked it immediately and she drew him in closer. “What's got you worried?”

“I’m just wondering...if you feel okay? Feel any different?” He asked and she tilted her head.

“No? Did I do something that has you asking that?”

“No, no, I just...I...we’ve...fuck...we’ve had sex...a lot...without...” Jake stuttered, trying to figure out how to start. Sam took in a sharp breath.

“I don’t feel any different, no. I...actually called a doctor, back home. I was kind of thinking I might be pregnant at this point too but... I just haven’t gotten around to taking a test and...I’m worried that there’s something wrong...”

“Maybe it’s just bad timing? Maybe it’s me? I know they said the meds I was on when I came home, the depression shit...they could affect stuff like that. Either way...maybe when they do my physical eval I can have them run some tests there too.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea...and Jake I know this is hard. Having to leave. I know you want to stay longer.” Sam moved in to put her hands on his chest and she saw his eyes grow misty. His brows furrowed and he touched his forehead to hers then.

“And I know California is your home.” He whispered. 

“It is...it’s yours too. But...Jake...we have many more years ahead of us...and we can decide, together, where we want to live.” Sam said softly, running her fingers up and down his chest.

“Do we? Have many more years?” Jake asked, tone flat.

“What?” She drew back, her stare hardening.

“Do you want this Sam? Do you want me? With everything that comes with me being in the Navy? With the possibility that what happened last time, could happen again? Or that the next time, I don’t come home? Are you really okay with that?” He asked. He felt warm breath on his hand. Ducati was standing, quietly closing his eyes to the sound of them talking. Sam took a few moments, petting the gelding’s neck and thinking over what she wanted to say to Jake.

“No Jake...to be honest the thought of losing you absolutely scares me to death, but...I love you so much that I want to give it a try. I want this. And everything that comes with it. Because I’m realizing that I really don’t wanna ever be without you...and I know...I know you’re going to go back on deployments and I know you’re going to be gone at times, but I know you’re always going to do everything you can to come back to me. To us.” She said and Jake pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head. 

“I just worry...about not being there for any kids we have. I don’t want to miss things...I don’t want...” Jake’s speech drifted off and his eyes glazed over. Sam knew he was thinking of his father, Randall, not Kenny. Jake didn’t want his kids to miss him. 

“Jake...I’m more resilient than you give me credit for sometimes. I’d be okay...and they’d be okay. And imagine how excited they’d be to have you home...”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

As always, Tyler and Jake took an hour, and set off in the truck. They always did this when Jake had to leave, though it wouldn’t be for another month or so, but Tyler needed the time alone with his brother. They were at a very different place and time in both of their lives, but the same sentiment. Tyler turned up the radio and even though it was chilly, rolled the windows down. The first song that came on was one that they both sung softly, but the words hung heavy in the air between them, making them both tear up.

“I’ve been thinkin’ back, summers in the woods, didn’t keep time, cause we didn’t know we should, snuck a little whiskey on the back porch, and now I’m needin’ more, so on a saturday don’t call me if you miss, I’m on a southbound train, just take me back to...skippin’ town and skippin’ classes, time passed slow, like ole molasses, the hardest part of movin’ out was movin’ on. And city lights are dim compared to southern skies and open air. The hardest part of lettin’ go was lettin’ on that I’m goin’ goin’ gone.”

They stayed quiet as the song finished, the next one filtering through the speakers, on a slightly happier note.

“I love a first cast when the water's glass and the line starts to run. Or that first sip of a cold beer when the workin’ weeks done. I love the twilight in the mornin’ fore the day wakes up, or the windows down on the first ride in a paid-up truck. And I love a slow down in a beach town with an ocean view, and I love a first fall Saturday trip down to Baton Rouge. And I love a six-string with the stars out and the campfire glow, but girl that don’t even come close ...” Both brothers hummed but they sang the chorus, each having someone in mind. Someone special.

“To the way that it feels when you lean in and kiss me, the way that you dance when you get kinda tipsy, I’m wrapped round your finger like this ring I’m wearing, that look in your eye, girl, when you catch me starin’, and I don’t even know what it is but now that I’ve found, I can’t imagine me livin’ without this back forty view on our piece of ground, watching you watch the sun goin’ down, that’s what my world spins around .” Tyler glanced over at Jake, his lips turning up. Jake’s all knowing smile met his brother’s.

“That little blond barrel racer...” Jake said, tilting his head in approval.

“That little brunette that you hadta have...” Tyler said, shook his head and reached over to pat his brother’s arm.

[blujayonthewing]

DM, on getting together to talk about backstory stuff I have to have him build with me: I might need to ask a few more questions about Felix and also what drives him besides curiosity

me: is curiosity not enough??

also me: well the other major thing was supposed to be solving this mystery that I asked for your cooperation with six months ago and have never gotten any input on

[kurp-stuff]

Well the french in the last episode of iwtv was certainly something