#Road to Lyn

[ch3rry-lips]

AND THIS SURPRISED NOBODY 🗣️🗣️🗣️

if u see this, rb with yours! (if you use spotify)

[writingwenches]

Aemond x Peasant OC – Part 2

synopsis: our main character, Lyn finds herself propositioned in the most unexpected way. Aemond finally finds out the secret gift his mother's favorite lady, Cinda Lannister, has planned to celebrate the princess helaena's nameday

themes: classist!Aemond, spoiled prince boy Aemond, mc grew up in a westeros version of a nunnery, this is just the start of a larger “rewrite HOTD” type story. I posted this a few days ago, hated it, rewrote some of it, now its back lol

word count: ~5k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no targcest, dark themes, masturbation, voyerisom, dub/con, mentions of sex work, character death, mentions of child death and pregnancy complications. medieval standards on "womanhood", virginity testing, let's all remember the true inspiration for handmaid's tale: human history~ i would never survive in this time period eventho not having a job and wearing pretty dresses sounds very very very very nice until its not

READ PART ONE HERE

Learn to Fly – Act One – Finale

Lyn did not have the same privilege to mourn like noble ladies did. The Lady Aeditya had an entire wardrobe of black cloth and robes, as a way to signify to all those who perceived her that there was something missing, something lost unable to be returned. Lowborns did not have the time to pass away, on their knees in front of the Seven, begging for retribution. 

Lyn was allowed her moments, standing alone at the simple gravestone behind the Motherhouse. Hanna had not made it a week past their last outing at Erenford’s Keep. Something to do with her heart, the Maesters had told them, so they didn’t have to worry about spreading. She was the only one to visit her grave after the burial, the others seemed to have moved on, just as she needed to. 

Lyn did not have the time to mourn, with one less mouth to feed, the Stepas would allow her to stay for a few more moons, but Lyn was sure her time here was at an end. 

Where would she go? What would she do? Hanna had been immensely more talented than Lyn as a servant, a nursemaid or a farmhand, and she still struggled to gain employment. Where was the hope for Lyn? 

—

Cinda had taken so long in her travels to Haronfall, Aemond was sure she was stalling for some reason. He sighed loudly, sitting across from her in the plush wheelhouse, decorated in Lannister reds. Cinda’s eyes remained closed and her breathing steady. Aemond was sure she was asleep.

He was sure he could have flown Vhagar to Essos and back by now, but Cinda had assured them they were only a few days away from their destination. After his strange greeting from the town’s patrons, Aemond was not sure why he was even going back. 

Well, perhaps there was one reason. 

The road was bumpy and Aemond could not stop his eyes from finding Cinda’s heaving chest, as she gently breathed as the uneven road shook her chest about, sending waves of skin to dance in front of his eye.

Aemond did not like to think of Cinda in his base moments, she was a lady and was to be respected. But, a forgettable peasant girl was something else entirely. 

His eye set itself on the cavern in the center of Cinda’s chest, her sapphire jewel fell in the place between her breasts. He imagined his hands wrenching the fabric away, freeing her tits for his own view. Aemond pictures palming them, as the road rocked him against his hands. His own hand went to himself, unlacing his britches under a heavy blanket, needed for the colder climate.

His dominant hand wrapped around his base, applying pressure that forced a sigh from him. Aemond’s sounds had not woken Cinda, so he resumed the tapestry being weaved in his head. 

The peasant girl’s face, thrown back, her mouth open in pleasure as her tits jumped before him, as she bounced on his cock. He had only seen the sight while searching for his brother in places he shouldn’t be, but Aemond finally understood his brother speaking of it so fondly now. Aemond pictured suckling at Lyn’s nipples, making her cry out and beg him for more. He hated that she did not know his name, he wanted to hear her scream it. To beg him. To stop. To start. To do anything he wanted. He wanted to put that damned peasant in her place, stripped naked, on her knees, and forced to lick his boots as he sat atop the iron throne.

His hips thrust themselves into his hand, as his freehand braced himself against the carriage wall. 

He watched Cinda’s eyes to make sure she remained asleep, he matched his trusts with the bouncing of her tits. Aemond was the prince, and he could have whatever he liked, at least in the safety of his own mind. Cinda was alseep, but if he wished he could pry her open and fill himself inside her. He could hear her scream, her voice so known to him for so long. It rang in his mind, the sounds of her happy and annoyed and pleased. He could practically feel her smiling against his lips. It was almost as clear as a memory that he made her say “I love you” when she reached her peak.

Aemond spent himself into a handkerchief, he could swear his eyes was open but he could see nothing besides the stars. 

Before he could catch his breath, the guard was called that they had arrived and Cinda stretched her arms awake, offering yet another stunning view of what Aemma would call disgraceful. 

“My sweet prince, are you well?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“It was only a dream,” he assured. 

—

The baskets carried on her back felt an extra heavy load the next market. It had been a few weeks since Hanna’s death, and Lyn had not found a single reason to be cheerful, the Septas made sure she knew her work was suffering. The baskets were poor craftsmanship, and she knew it. But, there was nothing left to do but try and peddle them away, so have enough coin to produce for the next market, and so on, forever, she supposed. 

The Septas, too, had felt the loss of Hanna, their charge. She had been with them since her own youth, and the old women were many things, but they weren’t cruel, the girls were only punished when it was deemed necessary, which even they admitted was more often than they’d like. They were doing it in the name of the gods, to frighten the thoughts that could lead a poor, unfamilied, woman astray. 

Lyn’s work had been sloppy. First, she had dropped a group of baskets in the street, for them to be trampled over by a too quickly passing carriage. Her largest basket was sold quickly, then piled high with soft delicate squash from the northern shores of The Bite. 

“I am so sorry, m’lord!” Lyn scrambled on the ground, her basket bursting from the weight, and the delicate vegetation plopped down into the wet mud. “This has never happened before, I assure you!” 

The gentle squash was bruised and irreplaceable. Lyn pushed the tears back into her eyes as the purple faced man shouted at his inconvenience. She was forced to offer the man the meager contents of her purse to save face. She would be going back to the Motherhouse with less coin than she left, and that was simply inaccessible. 

“You must be the saddest group of little–“ the Septas berated the small group of girls in her charge, each having faulted during the market day and needed reprimanding. 

The vision of Septa Glaedis had been whittled down to a pale point with her age, but her hearing was a sharp as ever, and she was not one to put up with foolishness. The rage that the old woman consumed with every crack of her back, or creak in her knee was felt by the younger girls. They dreaded every front of cold air, as they knew Septa Glaedis’s mood would ever sour. 

Lyn knew to watch her breathing around Septa Glaedis, not wanting to give off the impression of an annoyed or impatient sigh and face the wrath of her faithful switch, thinly carved with hymns about the virtues of obedience. 

She allowed her mind to wonder, as the Septa retold hymns and passages Lyn had heard countless times before. The skies were grey and usual, a pale haze that passed over the world. It was rare that they got singular clouds in the lands near the twins, Lyn enjoyed finding shapes in the cloud, animals, faces, foods she had heard tales of and longed to try. There was nothing to find anything today in the clouds, she had to stop herself mid sigh, not wanting to fan the flames of Septa Glaedis. 

Passers by did not stop the mind them, the group of girls and Septas. They were trained in their invisibility, as all good woman and servants should. At least that’s what Lyn had been told. No one would want to see her, she was a lowborn girl merchant, and that title was something Lyn had to fight tooth and nail for. Last winter half the fingers on her left hand were crushed by falling stones from a builded fence. The Septas were able to set and save her fingers functions, at least enough to continue her basket weaving. It was one thing she was able to pray thanks to the gods for saving her from.

Lyn completely forgot herself with her eyes passed over silver strands, just across the muddied street. Passing horses trotted by, but between them Lyn could be sure of what she say. 

It was him. Again. The liar prince, come back to town. He smirked as he watched her beratement, gaining joy from her misery. 

Lyn forgot herself and laughed. 

“Is something funny, girl?” Septa Glaedis asked, with a whip of her switch. 

Perhaps, for the first time since she was a babe, Lyn had not expected the swing of discipline as it sped across her cheek, striking her to the muddied ground. She could hear the bark of laughter from the boy across the street. 

“Septa Glaedis! I am sorry, I am!” Lyn called as the woman struck at the air until she found the girl’s back with a whip, the other girls prayed the old woman to stop. 

The elderly woman followed her ears and turned her gaze to the barks coming from across the street, pointing out her switch to dare anyone else to cross her. Aemond’s voice caught in his throat at the threat from the old crone. 

Half of Aemond’s parentage had their roots deep in the heart of Oldtown, the epicenter of gentlemanly knights and courtly love. A true man of the Reach would have rushed over and covered the poor girl with his cloak, defending her from the villainous woman who dared to touch something that was his.

But, Aemond was above such things. The girl on the ground, her marked face flecked with foul-smelling mud, was no lady. Ladies deserved the help from a noble prince, and the dogs could remain in the mud, used for nothing more than licking the dirt from his boots. Ignoring the tightening in his britches at every strike across her back, Aemond did not want her, or need her, he told himself as he meandered through the market stalls until he found a smith who’s work was acceptable enough to sharpen his blade.

Aemond had spent the entire bloodied day trotting around the disgusting Riverlands, in search of Cinda and her damned surprise. When he had awoken in his tents that morning, she had vanished. Her maids had informed him that she was fetching the princess’s surprise. He did not like secret keeping, and Cinda knew that about him, so she dared to keep as many secrets as possible from him. 

Besides the whispers around the markets regarding the Lannister camp contracted outside of town, Aemond did not find a whiff of Cinda. Surely, if one of these peasants had been charged with making a gift for his princess sister, they would have boasted about it to their countrymen?

Cinda returned to the camp that night with her lips tightly sealed, not even wishing to play one of her silly guessing game she was always so fond of, no matter how many times Aemond brought it up.

— 

It was too early to be awake, and Aemond could feel the distant pull of Vhagar, flying high above the mountains of the Vale and away from the cold, sinking hole of the Riverlands. He rolled himself around in bed, willing him to return to sleep while the sun still hid from view. 

He had never been one to indulge himself this often, but the countryside was boring a whole in his skull. He would surely lose his mind if they remained much longer. Today, he would force Cinda tell him of her plans. He was the Prince and he could have her locked up in the Eronford’s Keep for disobeying his orders. 

His idle hand loosely brushed itself against his manhood, hardened from the morning air. Aemond’s mind was giddy at the thought of Cinda’s arms retrained wide, her body chained to a dungeon wall. He could picture her in nothing less than her most elegant of crimson gowns, one of the newer designs of the Red Keep, hugging her curves with a neckline that hung low and snug, her breasts barely able to be contained by the fabric. 

Her face shifted, darkening into lips of purple hue, marks on her face that stretched over her rounded cheeks. He moaned into his touch as he reimagined the switch striking that cheek. He watched the pain in her eye and could hear her moan in pain as she was brought to the ground. Aemond imagined himself holding the switch and inflicting the pain onto her himself, the lowborn scum that deserved her place on the ground, prepared only to scrum the floor beneath his muddied feet. 

And she had smiled at him. Her eyes catch sight of him and she smiled at him. Her cheeks rose up as her lips formed around the air ready to say his name.

He wondered how else he could pull such a thing from her again as he trust into his hand. He pictured her spread on the floor of his tent, her skirts too short gaining him a perfect view of her calfs, a view he would indulge by tearing the fabric from her waiting skin. 

He was a prince, and she was his subject, his property. He had every right to send the lowborn to war or drag them into his beds. Aemond could do whatever he liked with the lowborn river girl, nothing more than a common whore. 

He would lick the darkened marks that covered her body until her reached to mouth. Her hair, in small plates across her back, was enough for him to fist, as he shoved himself into her lowly mouth. He imagined her choking on his length, spittle dripping down her neck in a way unbecoming of a proper lady. He made her beg, for something, for everything. He came in his hand and fell back asleep. 

Cinda tickled a feature against his eyes to wake him up to break their fast.

— 

Lyn had never rode in a cart before, at least not since she was too young to remember. The girls were all excited, the small group gathered by the Septas for a special job opportunity. The red banners embalmed with golden lions had set up camp just outside their halls, Lyn could just see their colors peaking above the horizon from their sleeping room. 

“I hear they are the richest house in the realm,” one girl said, as the camp came nearer into view. 

“I heard they have a castle made of pure gold!” another chimed in. 

“I hear they use slaves in their mines,” the last girl huffed, waggling her fingers at the ruby clad guards on duty as their cart passed into their protected camp. 

Lyn found herself amongst a group that she found odd. The same way she could have been described as striking, so could these other girls. Mismatched eyes, and hair with streaks of white, moles and marks and discolored skin, covering their bodies, just as her own bumped black marks covered Lyn’s. 

“Why us?” Lyn asked, pulling at a loose string of her skirt hem.

“We are the ugly ones,” the last girl who spoke of slaves shrugged, her face marked with redness and pinpoint scars. “These high born ladies are afraid that someone might best them at their own game, so I’d bet they are stacking their servants with hideous beasts, like us. To make themselves feel even more beautiful.” They all had a good laugh at that.

Whatever gained Lyn employment, at this point she did not mind. 

“Are we going to be servants to true high born ladies?” a girl asked, “The richest house in all the seven kingdoms, you said?” 

“I bet the kitchen scrubbers get better scraps than we ever did,” Lyn said, all the foods she could only picture in the clouds, would soon be in her grasp. Her mouth watered at the thought of the orange from her Liar Prince, the smell had not left her mind, every night as she tried to fall asleep, the sweetness mixed with the tang. It was unlike anything she ever experienced before. And now, she was about to gain the opportunity to experience something like that for the rest of her days? 

“We must,” the girls huddled together to discuss their new plan, “be on our best behavior. We must insist that we all gain employment this day. We are all skilled, we know our worth, and we can serve actual ladies and lords!” 

The grand room in the tent was larger than many houses made of wood and stone Lyn had witnessed. Her mouth hinged open as she looked around at the endless tapestries and sculptures that were past every layer deeper into the tented maze. 

“Lyn!” one of the girls hushed and prodded her hard in the side. “Close your mouth, stupid!” 

Lyn reminded herself why they were there, and straightened her back as high it would go, her shoulders back and her fists balled at her side, before peering at the other girls’ hands gently folded in front. 

She steadied her breathing, and couldn’t help but run her hands over the carved chairs, more fine than any in Erenford’s Keep. 

There were flowers, colors that Lyn had never seen in nature, just sitting across tables as the girls weaved single filed. Lyn imagined being charged with placing those flowers in their vases, gently packing them in finely sanded wooden boxes that smelled of ancient trees. 

She stepped out of line and breathed in deeply of their scent. “Lyn!” another girl barked, shoving her back in line, but first quickly smelling the blooms herself. They mouthed the gods name in vain, in an attempt to contain their excitement. 

Lyn wondered how they had gotten all of this here? Had they really been towing around wagons and carts filled with chairs and fine paintings and porcelain vases all across the Riverlands from the…west? Lyn had not bothered to wonder where these great Lion Lords were from. She was sure it was somewhere far past The Twins, and perhaps even across the seas.

If they had enough coin to traps across the countryside, with all of this racket in tow, surely they could hire all five of the girls brought before them. Never again would Lyn waste away a winter, pulling the work from her bare bones, with nothing but boiled potato skins for nourishment.

One girl motioned towards a small group of girl servants fussing over a plate of rainbow colored cakes. They were all beautiful, flawless and pure, but they were not small. Thick of self and well fed, it was clear. Lyn was sure that servants in their charge would have their promised breads and meats and maybe even cheese, and they would never run out. 

They would never know hungry again. 

The girls were wrangled to the main area of the giant tent fortress, contrasted for the pleasure of those at its heart. The chattering of nobles ended in whispers as the ugly girls were brought into the room. The sad lot of damaged girls had spent their life getting gawked at by others, but nothing compared to the stares of the lovely, etherial and simply perfect. Every single one of them. 

The women’s dresses were fine, made of different hues of red fabrics, with golden flecked thread sewn throughout the visage. Aeditya had a single gown with golden stitching along the neckline, and its was her most prized possession. It traveled in a tightly closed box, always in her possession, in case an appropriate occasion ever arose. Aeditya had allowed Hanna and Lyn to admire the craftsmanship on a few occasions. The thread was thick and intricately wrapped in golden floss, the gold wrapped thread alone could take a lifetime to master the art form, and these ladies had gold thread weaved through every piece of clothing. The main woman, seated upon a crimson plush throne, Lyn could see, had golden threads etched into her shift peaking above her tight neckline, and her perfectly curled hair glowed in the light, pure gold. 

Perhaps their castle was made of pure gold.

“Thank you for following my instructions so closely,” the woman’s voice pealed like a psalm, the sound was as if it too were wrapped in golden thread. “But, you really did not need to bring so many.” 

The girl’s form tightened, all standing shoulder to shoulder to be observed by the throng of beauty and grace. Lyn’s lips formed into a hard line, these people had so much coin, surely they could find use for five souls that were in desperate need of their kindness. She tried to wrack her brain for something to say, something to explain that they were all worthy of love and acceptance and a warm bed at night and…

In that moment, there had existed the road Lyn had been traveling on her entire life until it was ripped out from under her so suddenly, she almost fell to her knees with her own eyes locked on another’s…one. 

“What’s happening?” Lyn whispered, more to herself than to the other girls, wanting to confirm that what she was seeing was in the flesh. 

There he stood, his hands clasp behind his back, the same black leathers from the market the day before, eyepatch covering his eye. The Lair Prince. On the raised pedestal with all the other noble ladies all wrapped in golden threads.

“You only need had bring one. I can see her from here,” Cinda said, her arms outstretched.

“Lyn,” one of the girls bumped her shoulder to retch her eyes away from his. Lyn nearly jumped from her skin as the woman raised from her seat and made her way straight towards her. 

“I am sorry!” Lyn could find no other words than to apologize, for sure the lady was about to strike her down for some unknown transgression. The lady was coming for her.

“My niece! Lynora, I have finally found you after all these years!” 

“No, no,” Lyn was not entirely sure what she had just heard, but she could feel the other girl’s hands being wrenched away from her as they were ushered off. “No, wait please!–“ They disappeared behind the curtains, their arms grasped by armored men. Lyn was alone. With these people. 

“My sweet, sweet Lynora. I really is you, my darling.” The golden haired woman’s hands were on Lyn’s face, cupping her cheeks. 

“No, I– m’lady, I am just Lyn, I am nothing–“ she tried to explain, offering another low bow to show that she really was sorry for all the confusion, her hands braced in front of her to keep the woman away. 

An elder woman appeared, and something was handed to the fine golden haired lady. “We have been searching for such a long time,” she said, as she admired the beautiful art held in her hand. 

Lyn’s eyes fell on a stretch, fine work, but lightened with age. The face of a babe, made larger than life, she was sure, peppered with black marks across the face. 

Her own black marks.

“No,” Lyn said, pushing it away. “You are mistaken, I am no one–“ 

“My younger brother, Tybolt Lannister, was married to the Lady Sophae Mullendore,” Cinda explained. “Lady Sophae died after giving birth to a babe, the Lady Lynora Lannister, and Tybolt remarried the Lady Tyshara Payne, you see,” the lady tried to rush over the innards, to get to the important parts. “The babe was sent back to live with the Mullendores in the Reach, but…the babe was lost! Until now, I knew that we could find you again. I just knew it.” 

“M’lady…” Lyn said, or perhaps Lynora said.

“You are my family, call me Cinda!” Cinda held onto both of her arms. “And I shall never leave you again.” 

It had been something that Lyn had dreamed of since she was old enough to want, every girl she had ever known had longed and wished for the same thing. Tears etched themselves down her cheeks, as she looked at the sketch of the babe once more, of the sketch of herself. 

“My family?” she asked, her hands wrapped themselves around Cinda’s own. Lyn laughed as she allowed herself to be dragged into a deep hug. 

“You will be Lady to Princess Helaena Targaryen, and you will marry a rich lord, and birth scores and scores of his children!” 

Lyn could hear Adityas cries from somewhere deep inside. She tried to pull away, but was unable to move.

“No, I’m sorry m’lady, I don’t–,” Lyn was not heard. 

“Of course, there is a matter of your virtue. Maester?” Cinda’s arms held her in place, and a man came forward. “Not to say I don’t trust the Septas, but one can never be sure.”

Lyn’s face was cradled once again, against her struggle, Cinda wiped a falling tear down her cheek. “Sweet girl, my girl, my lovely Lynora,” Cinda cooed. 

“You are free now,” the lady nodded, “Free from the burden of want, the need for desire, you thoughts need no longer be just your own, and you can finally rest easy from making every decision by yourself, never again must you worry about what you will eat, or where you will go. By the grace of the gods, your path has been chosen for you. You will be the Lady to Princess Helaena Targaryen, and you will marry a rich lord and have scores and scores of his babes, as is expected of you now. What you want is no longer of consequence.” Cinda embraced her, in her new found freedom. Lyn could hear Aeditya’s screams echoing from somewhere deep inside her. “Now, Maester.”

Aemond stood motionless, his mouth open and his eye wanting to look away, but he did not allow himself. The prince had prided himself for his quickness of thinking in battle, but at this point he was not quite sure what was happening around him.

Cinda had promised him the end to their game, and now the peasant woman who haunted his dreams was being bent over and–

“Stop–“ Aemond called, one stepped forward but nothing more. He couldn’t stop it. How could he? This was Cinda Lannister, on a mission for the Queen, his mother. 

He saw the tears peppering the girl’s eyes as she watched his inaction. Aemond’s eye fell in shame.

He was not sure how long it was before he swallowed his courage and stepped down from his pedestal. Cinda had forgotten the girl and was conversing with the Septas and Maesters about her care, and Lyn was left with her arms wrapped around herself, trying to become small. 

Aemond wrapped his cloak around her, not knowing what else to do. 

“What’s happening?” she asked, taking the cloak into her wringing hands. 

“You are…coming with us,” he answered, after some time. 

“I don’t want to,” she said, as if it was the most well known fact in the world. “Don’t make me, you…you said you were a prince? You were telling true? Don’t let them take me!” 

He hushed her, they couldn’t hear her speak such things. “I can not, she is…” he was a just young boy when he looked at Cinda. “On the mission from the Queen, I can not interfere…”

“You can help me,” Lyn tried to plead. “You– you can help me escape, out the back of the tents…”

“They will find you,” he shook his head. He had found her. Plain as day, in the crowded market. “There is nowhere to go.” 

“You said you have a dragon!” she hissed.

“I do, but–“

Lyn allowed the cloak to fall. She did not wish to speak anymore. She did not wish to stand anymore. She did not wish to wish anymore. 

When she turned, Aemond grabbed her arm to stop her. He didn’t know what to say, he wracked his brain and he could only think of their time at the lake. 

“There was a witness to our…your friend, I could send a message,” he tried to find something that could help her. 

“She’s dead,” Lyn said, as she was whisked away by her new family into her new future.

a/n: don’t worry, Lyn will get plenty of revenge on these rich folks. #eattherich. thanks all for reading! I am so excited to have gotten to the story's "twist"~ I know it's not going to be everyone's favorite, but it's going to be a fun journey and a more relatable perspective to enjoy the ~royal~ highborn life of the red keep. As always, comments, questions, requests, are all open~ Don't hesitate to reach out, I'll gush back at you LOL

tags: @fallout-girl219 (sorry for the double tag, I hated what I posted earlier this week. So, I'm going to chop up all the side quests into their own posts LOL)

[hyunpic]

list of songs hyunjin has played on his lives/recommended:

note: im probably missing some & i couldn’t put links to all of them cause apparently tumblr has a link limit 🤨

lauv: julia, lonely eyes, invisible things, paris in the rain, never not, im so tired, the story never ends, i like me better

offonff: photograph, cigarette (ft. miso & tablo), dance, bath

beyoncé: crazy in love (remix)

billie eilish: i love you, &burn, idontwannabeyouanymore, ocean eyes, before i go, tv

honne: day1, la la la that’s how it goes

christina perri: a thousand years

shawn mendes: mercy, treat you better, in my blood

dvwn: phobia

dpr live: jam & butterfly

jehwi: dear moon

leehi: rose

bts: dna, waste it on me, make it right

colde: where love begins, string (ft. sunwoojunga), the museum, wa-r-r, your dog loves you (ft. crush), control me, a song nobody knows, im in love

got7: miracle, hard carry

justin bieber: lonely

josef salvat: call on me

taemin: criminal

night off: sleep

sam kim: make up (ft. crush), like a fool, sunny days summer nights

niki: lowkey

iu: the visitor, lullaby, knees, love poem, give you my heart, my sea

cha ni: starlight

sia: snowman

akmu: happening

sunwoojunga: run with me

the black skirts: everything

korea cracker: ocean (ft. hoyeon kim)

cosmic boy: can i love?

penomeco: no.5 (ft. crush)

yerin baek: blooming memories, limit

10cm: so…., however

day6: i’ll try, love me or leave me, when you love someone, you were beautiful, congratulations, zombie, days gone by, afraid

dean: d (half moon), instagram, what 2 do, bonnie & clyde

exo: first snow, the eve, love shot

sam fischer: this city

jukjae: do you want to walk with me?, lullaby

ph-1: nerdy love (ft. yerin baek), as i told you

baekhyun: love again, un village

amine: blackjack

young k: come as you are, guard you

flume: say it (ft. tove lo)

twice: dance the night away, fancy

ariana grande: thank u, next

hajin: we all lie

about: it has to be you

caroline says: winter is cold

h.e.r: u, wait for it

bol4: to my youth

monday kiz: winter is as i wished

paul kim: the road, additional

sweden laundry: the winter

jung seung hwan: in that winter

chungha: gotta go

zion.t: no make up, snow

airman: gloomy star, i’ll be your spring (ft. j_ust)

motte: dont run away

seventeen: a-teen, super

khalid: location

lukas graham: 7 years

imagine dragons: believer

bo kyung kim: dont think you are alone

jung ilhoon: spoiler (ft. babylon)

davichi: falling in love, 이 사랑

coldplay: everglow, viva la vida

lyn: my destiny

jus2: focus on me, long black, senses (jpn version)

crush: beautiful, you and i

ed sheeran: lego house, perfect, photograph, beautiful people

croosh: why

20 years of age: x

tori kelly: paper hearts

seulgi: always

luna: do you love me? (ft. george)

wisue: someone’s shining

epik high: eternal sunshine

jp saxe: if the world was ending

seori: fairy tale

bruno mars: marry you

the weeknd: earned it, die for you

jung seunghwan: its raining, an ordinary day, dear

sam tinnesz: play with fire

post malone: motley crew

jihyo: stardust love song

kim feel: your voice

sung sikyung: solar system, heejae

younha: stardust

wonpil: a journey

taeyeon: invu, some nights, toddler, drawing our moments

nct dream: boom

ha hyunsang: 3108

huhgak: memory of your scent

se so neon: nan chun, a long dream, midnight train, stranger

umi: remember me

tvxq!: mirotic

johnny balik: honey

red velvet: psycho

new jeans: hype boy

christian kuria: losing you

cigarettes after sex: k. , each time you fall in love, sunsetz, apocalypse

dpr ian: nerves, no blueberries, 1 shot

samm henshaw: broke

woodz: drowning

kelly clarkson: underneath the tree

kimmuseum: to you who cant sleep

taylor swift: betty

lana del rey: young and beautiful

harry styles: watermelon sugar, she

pink sweat$: honesty

masego: tadow

olivia rodrigo: vampire

troye sivan: youth, for him

kai: mmmh

2pm: my house

oasis: wonderwall, hey now

mac miller: that’s on me, everybody

nothing but thieves: amsterdam

bren joy: sweet

back number: i love you

mac ayres: next to you, roses

daniel caesar: blessed, ocho rios, get you (ft. kali uchis), take me away (ft. syd), do you like me?, disillusioned

green day: dilemma

puma blue: already falling

bruno major: nothing, easily, places we won’t walk, the most beautiful thing, old soul

[kingjasnah]

………………….. what do you mean syladin foreshadowing 😅😅😅😅😬😬😬😬

nothing concrete. if you read the preview chapter the reason a lot of people are going like 😬 yikes is just from general changes to her appearance and a conscious change on her part to be seen as more adult and human. not bad on it's own of course. honestly im interested to see where it goes bc I am invested haha in her personal arc this book but like we've been here before we've been down this road and enough little tiny red flags (why was she compared to lyn in uniform.....) were set off in my brain that im like getting ready for it

[whateverthese2havetournament]

2024 Roster Announcement

Alright, let's get this show on the road.

You all gave me plenty to work with, and though time has passed, I haven't forgotten. I have utilized what I believe to be an unbiased system of sorting relevant entries to the top, and I have a list of 32 and 16 for both the "Men's Division" and "Women's Division".

The Men's Division, in no particular order:

Archie and Maxie, Pokemon

Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, Looney Tunes

Professor Pierre Aronnax and Captain Nemo, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Sicard and Emmanilain, Final Fantasy XIV

Alber Wesker and Chris Redfield, Resident Evil

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds

Suguru Geto and Satorou Gojo, Jujutsu Kaisen

Luffy and Zoro, One Piece

Kotetsu T. "Wild Tiger" Kaburagi and Barnaby "Bunny" Brooks Jr., Tiger and Bunny

Yoichi & Kudou, My Hero Academia

Elim Garak and Julian Bashir, Star Trek

Dale Cooper and Harry S. Truman, Twin Peaks

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha

Composer and Orpheus, Identity V

Eddie Brock and his Symbiote, Venom

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang, Link Click

Keith and Lance, Voltron

Optimus Prime and Megatron, Transformers

Newt Geiszler and Hermann Gottleib, Pacific Rim

Kim Dokja & Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader

Sam and Max

Officer Bailey and That Other Guard, Ghost Trick

Steven Stone and Wallace, Pokemon

Medic and Heavy, Team Fortress 2

Basil and Sunny, OMORI

Ike and Soren, Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Professor X and Magneto, X-Men

Mercutio and Benvolio, Shakespeare

Stanley and the Narrator, The Stanley Parable

Junkrat and Roadhog, Overwatch

Merlin and Arthur, Merlin

Jessie and James, Pokemon

And the Women's

Madoka Kaname and Akemi Homura, Madoka Magica

Azula, Mai and Ty Lee, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Alice 'Daisy' Tonner and Basira Hussain, The Magnus Archives

Sable Ward and Mikaela Reid, Dead by Daylight

Mina Harker née Murray and Lucy Westenra, Dracula

Xena and Gabrielle, Xena: Warrior Princess

Falin Touden and Marcille Donato, Delicious in Dungeon

Emma Swan and Regina Mills, Once Upon a Time

Ruby Rose and Penny Polendina, RWBY

Milly Thompson and Meryl Stryfe, Trigun

Daphne Blake and Velma Dinkley, Scooby Doo

Vriska Serket and Terezi Pyrope, Homestuck

Kimura Seiko and Andoh Ruruka, Danganronpa 3

Lucia and Elincia, Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Yuri and Natuski, Doki Doki Literature Club

Lyn and Florina, Fire Emblem the Blazing Blade

Wowie, what an all-star cast! Videogames, comics, movies, anime, cartoons, classic literature, and more.

So, I'm going to aim to get the ball rolling, let's say October 14th. I'll start with Men's Round 1, then the following week do Women's Round 1, and so on. I will post the actual brackets a bit closer to that date.

In the meantime! If anyone would like to submit any propaganda, images, complaints, objections, or what have you, the ask box will remain open. I know last time had a pretty rocky start, but I am wise for the experience, and I think this time 'round will be even better.

[dalekofchaos]

Give me an au where Leia arrived to Jabba's palace before Oola's execution. Jabba is so enamored by Leia, that he spares Oola's fate in canon.

aka Leia fulfills Anakin's dream of freeing the slaves of Tatooine in Fury Road styled journey to free herself and the other slaves and giving us Leia/Oola

Leia is caught, enslaved earlier, but she grows a bond with the other slaves and grows close with Oola.

So Leia alters the plan. She convinces the other slaves to break away from Jabba and escape with her. Oola, Greeta, RYstall and Lyn Me are hesitant at first. But after seeing Luke defy Jabba and survive the Rancor. They know it's do or die. But it's not just Luke, something about the Princess inspires them to want to finally get their freedom.

Luke's wacky nonsensical plan goes off and ends the same, BUT. When Leia comes to kill Jabba. All five of them wrap their chains around Jabba and kill them.

They are not slaves anymore.

Leia offers them to take them home or a place in the Rebellion where they can end slavery across the galaxy once the Empire is defeated.

Wherever the others choose, Oola stays by Leia's side and embraces Leia in a kiss

[mistresskayla-blog1]

A Start of Luminescence

Lyn's Writing Event 2024 Day 12 - Week 2

Characters: Ray Levine and Fem! Reader

May 12: Week 2: Canis Minor (small dog)

Characters: Ray Levine x fem reader

Fandom: Richard Armitage – Ray Levine – Stay Close

The Character of Ray Levine was created by Harlan Coben, adapted for television by Danny Brocklehurst and portrayed by Richard Armitage.

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, camera talk, potential romance, mild angst

Word count: 1.6k

            It was the evening of February 13th, nearly Valentines’ Day, Ray thought as he drove through the park road to his parking spot in the clearing. Tonight he would catch that constellation, the “small dog” on his new DLSR large lens a IS USM by Canon, with extra long shutter stop. You could adjust it manually and the aperture was off the charts for letting light in. It was well after dusk when he set up his tripod and pointed the camera skyward, making adjustments when he heard something rustle behind him. Ray turned, dropping his phone as you stepped up towards him.

            “Um, hey,” He smiled, swallowing as he saw you. You smiled back, “Hey. Sorry didn’t mean to bother you. Is this a good place to set up for Canis minor tonight?”

Ray quirked an eyebrow and looked skyward behind him, “That’s what they tell me,” smile, “So, you got the specs?”

You pulled out your Olympia camera and added a wide lens, bigger than his, “Yep all set. Do you mind if I set up over there?” you point deeper into the clearing.  Ray nods, “Yeah, I don’t own the field. Have at it”. He scratched his neck and just kind of puzzled watched you carry your gear about 20 feet away and set up.  Ray strolls over to you as you are setting up.

“That’s an impressive lens, the Sigma DG HSM?” Ray asked. You smile broadly, “Yes it is”. Ray whistles, “That a pricey lens, what’d that set you back?”

You shrug, “Not too bad, I got it from my friend, he, well, he doesn’t shoot anymore”, you looked down at the ground, shuffling in your camera bag. Ray gave you the pause, “I see, well it was nice of him,” You look up quickly, crouched on the ground, this guy was Really tall from this angle, and wildly attractive, like bad boy wild attractive.

“Sorry, I meant, well, he died,” You swallow back the thought. Ray crouched down to you, “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

You bit back a tear, but found your lens cleaner and stood up, tightening the camera on the tripod and checking the angles through the lens, “yeah, yeah. Im fine”. Ray stood back up and looked at you like he wanted to offer a hug, but restrained himself.

Darkness continued to fall upon the field and trees behind you both, “well good luck then,” Ray said smiling friendly, and he walked back to his gear and got on his knees in front of the lens. You heard him curse a few times under his breath from the quiet of the night, and you giggled.

It was mid February in New Jersey. so even though the snow had melted from earlier in the week, it was still cold and the air was still, so nothing was moving, except you two. Ray blew into his hands and pulled his jacket tighter waiting. His sharp nose was starting to get pink on the end, and you giggled again, wearing warm gloves and an even warmer downed vest.

It was nearly 10 pm now, and you both were like eagles on a prey, heads on the cameras, eyes on the lens, waiting for the milky way to clear a bit so you could catch this constellation. Ray cursed again, and fumbled with his angles. You called out to him, “What’s wrong?”

Ray smiled over at you, as he tinkered, “Oh just an old tripod, the knob keeps slipping pulling my shot right out of alignment”. You smile, “That must be frustrating”.  He speaks back, “It is, very,” then to himself, “Though not as frustrating as wondering if I can ask you out for coffee after I don’t see this bloody thing”.

You heard him mumbling and kept an eye on your lens, “What? Did you say something?”

Ray looked over at you, away from his lens, “No, nope. I’m good”, he looked back in his lens, “That was close”, in a deeper voice.

“So what’s your name?” you asked him.

He answered, not looking away from his lens this time, “Ray. What’s yours?”

“y/n” you answered and shifted on your heels, trying to keep your feet warm as the chill set in further tonight. And then you caught a glimpse of a tail.

“Nice to meet you, y/n” Ray said, “After this, did you want to grab a hot cup of coffee or something?”

You blushed against your collar, which Ray couldn’t see in the dark and distance, “Um, sure,” you called back. Ray smiled, triumphantly.

You spotted that tail again, and followed up the run of stars, checked your notes and counted again. Looked at the perimeters on the Olympia and notated it on a little steno notebook in your bag.

Ray looked over, “Did you find something?”

“Ya, yes. I think so, I was just double checking”, you rattled off the coordinating angles to him and Ray readjusted his lens and angle, “Yep got her! Nice work!”  you beamed a bit, glad he couldn’t see it, “Thanks, got lucky”.  Ray mused, “That’s some luck, I’m glad you’re here to guide me, can I see it through your lens?” Ray strolled over and you stepped back, returning the question with a quiet, “sure”, as he leaned in towards your lens, inches from you.

“Wow, that is it, alright. Really, great work” Ray said. You could see it with the naked eye now, as you looked up to the sky, two sharp stars with an invisible line drawn between them making the formation. Two points meeting together, just like the two of you.

You could smell him then and feel the heat pouring over his leather jacket towards you. It was a subtle musky scent, like an aftershave, but he had raw stubble on his face, so you imagined he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He looked over at you then, closer than before. And smiled a weak little smile of interest, “What?” You spooked and cleared your throat, “Oh, nothing. I’ll just get my shots and then we can go, I’m wicked cold”. Ray stood straight then, “Yeah, sure of course”.

He walked back to his rig and snapped a few groupings, and then picked it up off his tripod and caught a few of you in your rig, as he walked closer to you. You stopped him with a hand up, “Hey, I didn’t say you could do that”. Ray stopped short, “Oh sorry, I forget about photographer ethics, we don’t like to be photographed”. He smirked and showed you his display, “See it was really a cool shot, I wouldn’t have”.  You looked at the display and your heart thumped, he had captured you beautifully with his aperture stop, “You know that’s not bad. Maybe you’ll have to give me your number so I can have one”. Ray nodded, “yeah, yeah of course. Come on, let’s go get that coffee.” You packed up your gear, and collapsed your tripod and walked back to your car with Ray at your heels. He was so tall, and just that kind of height that could be menacing if he wasn’t so attractive and personable. You wondered if he had a girlfriend and figured not because he was hitting on you. Either way, he was handsome, nice, single, and not a creep with a camera, so check, check, check? 

You followed him into the city and you both pulled into the late night diner, the only one left open after COVID shutdowns, and walked up together. Ray still had his camera slung across his chest. You stopped as he opened the door for you, “Do you carry it everywhere?”  Ray nodded, “Yeah I do, I might see something I want to capture”. You nodded, “Fair enough, even in here?”

Ray laughed, “Oh, yeah there is all manner of folks in here late night, it’s a wealth of characters”. Yu entered the hostess area, which was bereft of staff and Ray leaded you to a booth and sat down opposite you. A waitress meandered over and asked what you wanted to drink. Ray looked at you, “Two coffees please”. You nodded in acceptance, “You want cream?” the waitress asked. You nod, Ray shook his head. Ray set his camera gently on the table and shucked off his leather jackets showing a hoodie and flannel underneath. He rolled up half a sleeve and you saw his tattoos. Ok Now you were in trouble, he had bad boy sweetheart written all over him, literally. Another waitress came sauntering over and leaned against Ray’s side of the booth back, “Ray…” she drowled, “How are you?”  Ray smiled at her, “Christy, I am good, yeah. Thanks. This is y/n” he introduced you, she gave you an apprehensive glance and chewed her gum, “Ray, I wanted to ask you about that girl you knew, I think I saw her around again”, Christy said, leaning in more conspiratorially, “or you can tell me later”. Ray shook her off with his subtle head gesture and she went back to the server’s area. Ray fiddled with some sugar packets at the table, “Sorry about that, she’s pretty nosey”.

You smirked, “seems like she’s into you Ray”. Ray scoffed, “Oh, is that what that looks like?” He grinned at you, ignoring Christy who swooped by again trying to get his attention, “I’m well aware, she’s been after me for months. I’m not interested”. He kept his eye contact with you, “I might be persuaded to like someone else, however”. You acted the part and put your hand to your chest, “Mwah”. Ray chuckled, “Yep, that would be the one”. You both giggled as the other waitress set down the coffees and bowl of creamers. See looked at both of you, rolled her eyes and walked away.

(Just a little sweetness for you all.. Levine style)

Tag list:

@scariusaquarius, @middleearthpixie @lathalea @evenstareedits @sweetestgbye @legolasbadass @riepu10

Lyn's Writing Event 2024 - just under the wire... midnight post.

[violettesiren]

I have lost touch with distant trees, the wind you brought in your hair and lilac hills.

Something different bites into the river and the river of lost days floats over my tongue.

Love, you are like that distant water, pulling and twisting, you turn me

apart from myself like some frightening road, something I don’t want to know

Still, let my hair float slow through this new color, let my eyes absorb all light

from this turning that has brought us here, has carried us to where we are, we are

Light from This Turning by Lyn Lifshin

[jozor-johai]

Do you have any TWOW predictions for sansa's arc?

Thank you for this question! I didn't really before you asked because it's always seemed so complicated to try to unravel. This ask inspired me, though, so I've spent the last two nights trying to work out my thoughts.

i will invoke the old adage here: it took me so long to answer this because I wanted to write you a shorter response. ...Believe it or not this is the short version, I could have written you a longer one. If there's interest, I might post my complete thoughts later.

To start, I think that Harry the Heir will die inconveniently early to punish Petyr in the narrative for committing too hard to killing Sweetrobin.

I do think Sansa will play a major role in taking down Petyr, but it really has to be his own dominos that she simply manages to push over. The Ghost of High Heart prophecy foretells her slaying a giant in a castle of snow, and I think that might be both LF in the Vale and Tyrion in Winterfell. Somehow (we'll get to that).

I even wonder whether Sansa is already plotting LF's downfall. I love this post that points out how Sansa outsmarted Tyrion by playing her "role" so well, and it makes me second-guess how much of "Alayne" is truly her abused self-image and how much is her fully playing the role for Petyr's benefit. There's a passage in the Alayne TWOW chapter where she wonders if Lyn is really Baelish's man, and I wonder: is it Alayne wondering that out of concern, or is it Sansa identifying a potential future ally to nudge along? Is she perhaps already nudging him against LF in that chapter?

Ultimately, Sansa's story is all about stories and songs, which is one of the major ideas in ASOIAF; the fact that her journey is constantly juxtaposed against that central theme makes hers one of the essential journeys of the story. My interpretation is that her first trials were where she believed she belonged in a different type of fantasy story, and now she's discovered that she's been a part of someone else's fairy tale—Petyr's—for longer than she realized.

I don't believe that Sansa's ultimate lesson will be that life is not a song, I think Petyr is both hypocritical and wrong in saying so. I think that her lesson is to learn that life can be a song when she sings it for herself, rather than playing the "pretty talking bird" singing the songs she expected to be in, or that she expects others want to hear.

To that end, I think she has to be pulled away from Petyr for her final trial. I think Shadrich is going to successfully steal Sansa away before any of Petyr's larger plans go into effect, so that we only get to see the groundwork being laid from Sansa's POV and then we have to hear about it all coming to fruition from afar. I tend towards the idea that Shadrich is more of a vehicle for Sansa's story than major player, though, so I'm hoping that she gets some actual agency once he takes her out of the Vale.

My no.1 hope for Sansa in TWOW is for her to find a way to achieve actual agency, and I can't see her managing effectively under Petyr. I don't think she's had her "Meeting with the Goddess" moment yet, I tend to think she'll have that moment on the road somehow.

I don't think it's for nothing that Shadrich's professed goal is doomed, because Varys is no longer around to pay the ransom. I also think KL itself is doomed and will be embroiled in war and/or plague when they arrive (if they even make it that far), so I think it's possible we get a brief moment that mirrors the Hound's and Arya's loss of purpose after the RW. KL will be empty of reward for Shadrich, and for Sansa it will be lost in this moment of bittersweet catharsis that represents both the loss of her original dreams and of her prison. The two are also one, in a way, considering that she was trapping herself from the start with her desire to force her life into a song rather than find the songs within life. This is potentially when the "Meeting with the Goddess" moment happens, although I don't know with who.

I think that it would be narratively satisfying for Sansa to then return (of her own accord, maybe? somehow) and confront Petyr as her faux-father-villain in an antagonistic twist on the "Atonement with the Father" moment where she realizes that Petyr's been the cause of so many of her problems, and the problems of her real parents, both lost now. Maybe Sweetrobin plays a role in this because his Weirwood throne should symbolically connect Sansa to the Old Gods again, and her spiritual return to her roots. Hopefully she sees how Petyr has been living in a fantasy world and putting her there too.

I think perhaps Lyn Corbray plays a big role in this, which is why Sansa noticed his uncertain loyalties. Certainly, the remaining Lords Declarant will be on her side, because Petyr's setting up a plotline where he extorts inflated prices for grain, so Sansa's role in deposing him will earn her the love of the Vale. "she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me."

Her Apotheosis, I think, will be finally getting agency and freedom from Littlefinger, and her Ultimate Boon might be Winterfell/The Vale itself, somehow, as hers rather than as Littlefinger's. More spiritually I think her Ultimate Boon will be her idealism and hope—which she has always had—separated from the constraints of preconceived songs but never lost. This mirrors how her internal world has separated so vastly from her external world playing "roles" for the people around her. I think her unyielding ideals, though, that those songs represented, will be an invaluable trait in the oncoming doom awaiting Westeros.

Finally... Sansa has never forgotten that she's still married, though, and neither should we—and I think the final irony in TWOW will be the return of her husband, Tyrion, who will come back to Westeros with the means to make good on his promise "to reduce the Vale of Arryn to a smoking wasteland." I think it's possible that Dany's landing in Westeros will mirror the Andal's arrival, landing in the Vale first—she also brings a train of refugees who follow her like a Messiah. When they land, I think Tyrion will urge extreme violence, also mirroring the Andal invasion.

After that, though, I think we probably cut to ADOS. I don't want to figure out the logistics of getting Sansa back to Winterfell (with Tyrion?) but I don't think it will happen in TWOW anyway.

That's my full prediction for Sansa in TWOW. tbh I hope she gets a lot of chapters, there were so few in AFFC.

[duckprintspress]

Happy last Thursday of July! We’re celebrating with three new short story releases!

Title: Entanglement Series: Sunrise Over the Black Forest Author: Lyn Weaver

m/m, established relationship of convenience, mutual pining, aren’t roadtrip invitations always platonic clearly there’s no feels here

Two years into their not-relationship, Sevan disappears for a week, only to appear at Kel’s church with a simple invitation: for Kel to accompany Sevan on a two-week trip to the edge of the Black Forest to observe the forest expanding its borders.

How does a cursed forest become larger?

When the trees get up and relocate, of course…

-

Title: Little Witch’s Apothecary Series: May of the Mountain Author: J. D. Harlock

studio ghibli meets fandom vibes, modern with magic, love potion shenanigans

Desperate for money to pay off her debts, May opens a small apothecary stand in Jdiedet. It’d be far more enjoyable work if the clientele didn’t constantly break into her manga reading time…but she supposes she’ll cook up a love potion for the local librarian. If she has to. If only to ensure the library continues getting new volumes for her to read.

-

Title: Awkward and Oblivious Author: R. L. Houck

f/f, modern, fluffy, bonding over a sick pet

When the trucker Alex finds a sick puppy abandoned by the side of the road, she races to get the poor dog to a veterinarian that can help. Several appointments later, the now-adopted Mako is on the mend and Alex has a favorite vet office.

Now, if only Alex could figure out how to get the oblivious Dr. Anna to respond to her awkward attempts to ask her on a date…

-

Get these charming stories, and many more, by visiting the Duck Prints Press store now!

[koishua]

lyn really wasn't playing when she wrote the outsider. "does it feel like there's somebody missing at the party or is everybody fine where they are? do you even care that im the only one not there or was forgetting me not really that hard? do i hate missing out or hate the thought of you not missing me? see it still when i close my eyes. i go back to those summer nights, driving fast down a dead end road, staying out past the afterglow. now you're laughing with someone new, doing things that we used to do and im just someone you used to know— the outsider of an inside joke."

[kafkaoftherubble]

Dear Lyndis,

Here are some suggestions for playing this ask game: https://www.tumblr.com/kafkaoftherubble/753608772078977024/ask-game-for-someones-ocs

❤️ - Ada, F, Emily

🥊 - B, C, D (if they have distinct personalities)

✂️ - Emily

💚 - Ada

🍎 - All (do they have parents? How about their "creators?")

🧠 - F

Signed,

— A Mysterious Stranger

Mysterious个毛。

Look. 2015 Lyn(s) left the most barebone stuff. It has so little meat that if a meat-lover calls it their diet, they are legally required to declare themselves a vegetarian.

I'm basically gonna weave whatever shit this brain can think of using whatever data 2015 versions of Lyn left. And then pretend that this is so totally part of the canon now. It's not like I plan to write it as a real story, right, Future Lyns?

---

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

They love to be alive. They hate to be dead.

Okay, see. You already know how A, B, C, D, E, and F are created, but maybe Future Lyns need this recap (I ain't gonna be like 2015 Lyn who did not even leave a long-lasting record):

Six tubes, each with ten genetically modified embryos, are involved in Project Ghoul/Gu.

In the first phase, every embryo has to fight the other nine embryos for survival. The embryos have only two means: fight their rivals to the death or forcefully absorb the latter. The fittest, most powerful embryo—the last one standing—will stay in the tube for incubation.

Sounds familiar? That's because this technique is based on traditional Chinese +/ Japanese folk magic called 蛊毒。 The Wikipedia page linked has a detailed process of how "the strongest venomous magic" can be cultivated according to Gudu. It's also a method to cultivate antibiotics! Neat.

The leader of the project has a Chinese background (or whatever made-up culture inspired by the Chinese culture. Really, kinda don't have much thought about it yet). That background is in the undertone of the project, including the name: the "Gu" in Project Gu is from the word "蛊"。

(The actual Chinese name should be 人蛊计划, "Human Gu Project")

Project Ghoul is its "internationally known" name; the surviving embryo is called a Ghoul. Because puns are funny!... But also because the experiment subjects echo a creature from pre-Islamic Arabic folklore, "Ghul." Researchers see a Ghoul as a flesh-eating human because their first "diet" was the other embryos they shared in the tubes.

Like the most famous ghul in Arabic folklore, the Ghouls are on the female end of the sex spectrum. Except for one, anyway.

Unfortunately, Tube B, C, and D were a failure. The struggle between embryos was lethal, and the survivors of B, C, and D died shortly after. Hence, they never have anything they love or hate to do. They simply never got to live enough to have that.

--------

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Ada is mediocre at her core. There is nothing particularly exciting about her appearance or traits, especially if compared to the other two surviving Ghouls... and even other humans.

Ada is female. She's an inept straight.

By "inept," I mean she doesn't seem to charm anyone that way (per her admission), doesn't know how to socialize with other genders that well, and doesn't know if she has charisma or how to improve her charisma. She just doesn't possess rizz (per her admission). You can say she's Asa without Yoru.

It's frustrating for Ada to find out she isn't aromantic. A kind blind boy had befriended her that one time; it was hard to determine if it was a youth's idea of a joke, a genuine relationship, something done out of pity, or a "we can try to get along and see if actual love sparked" situation à la arranged marriage—but they dated for a while.

Ada had felt genuine romantic feelings for the boy and had grieved when he died slipping off a banana peel and tumbling down the stairs leading to a busy road. Even if the stairs didn't kill him, the oncoming truck certainly sealed the deal. A new construction began shortly after, and rails and walls were installed in that town. Thanks to this new infrastructure, only Blind Boy was ever transported to another world to become an all-seeing seer by being able to read the script of a story, therefore never falling victim to banana peels again.

The point is, Ada simply isn't aromantic. Above all else, she yearns to be loved and for a person to belong to, which is why her inept straight-ness hurts. She believes the only person who could even love and accept her is someone who's passionately, romantically in love with her. She often fantasizes about the dead boy secretly wanting to be with her for the rest of his life if not for that fucking banana peel, but the Others have waaaaay less faith in that.

Hey, at least she's asexual. Dodge the femcel bullet!

-------

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like? (do they have parents? How about their "creators?")

Every researcher on Project Gu is technically their caretaker, but the Lead Researcher (LR) is considered the "real" parent.

(1) Ada

Ada has no relation with LR because, before F goes missing, LR has no fucking idea "A" survived.

Prior to their lab being destroyed by anti-Ghoul activists/terrorists, A was constantly near death after her Pyrrhic victory against other embryos, so most people didn't really think much about her. The team hastily salvaged E (a fetus) and F (still an embryo) and left for safety; nobody really thought A would live.

A (fetus) survived long enough until a pair of disillusioned ex-researchers discovered it while scavenging for documents after the coast was clear. They brought A home and incubated it further out of curiosity, and to their surprise, A grew up. These people were her first adopted parents.

They were pretty good teachers and parent figures, but they never planned to keep her for long—they believed they were not equipped to train and raise a human weapon and feared being found out by their old research team and LR. When A was 5, they gave her away to a foster home.

To win emotional appeals from voters, an aspiring politician and his wife made a big show of visiting the foster home and choosing one child to adopt. He picked A—his aide had told him that the child was given away by researchers who used to be involved in Project Gu, and the politician thought she might be politically useful someday. Just like that, this politician and his wife became A's second adoptive parents. They named her "Arete" when she told them her name was "A."

Arete's new parents were decent toward her—and she liked them enough—until the wife gave birth to a pair of twins. Arete became sidelined very quickly and showed up less and less with the family. Then two things happened: Arete was found talking to herself all the time. She also sees ghosts and macabre creatures when there aren't any. It was the subject of tabloids and rumors before culminating in an incident that left her parents humiliated at a state dinner.

Her relationship with her parents deteriorated. They started to call her "A" again, distancing themselves from her and giving her just the bare minimum of care. When she was 18, they got her to be emancipated but told her to remove any connection she had with the family, including changing her name. So, A just grabbed a name she found on a book or something and forgo a last name altogether.

(2) Emily

Emily enjoys an affectionate relationship with LR and the rest of the team. Everyone coddles her because she's the success story of Project Gu and is genuinely as impressive and competent as the Ghouls were supposed to be. In public, Project Gu was stated to have only one success, "E." That success brought a ton of research funding and a sterling reputation to the researchers who participated, which made them love her even more.

Without F in the picture, Emily is the princess. LR tolerates her spoiled brat's attitude and usually allows her everything she desires, including acknowledging the human name she had given herself despite insisting they had already given her "a name."

(3) F

F is LR's true golden child. He's the secret 6th Ghoul that not even Emily and many on the research team know. LR treats him as their greatest success and legacy. Nonetheless, they're very guarded about his existence. They're controlling of him and do all they can to make sure F obeys them, as F is a psychic and the most powerful Ghoul. He's their trump card.

F doesn't return LR's fervor. He respects them and treats them well, but he's rather distant. He also treats other researchers in the know about him similarly. F had tried training himself to dampen his psychic empathy however ways he can to avoid being overwhelmed and pained by conflicting emotional states, but that caused him to be aloof to his "parent."

Nonetheless, until he went missing, he defers to LR's commands. He is also the only one who responds to the name LR gave him.

Subfolder: Extra Name Lore Related to LR:

LR believes themself to be the parent of all 6 Ghouls, so they gave them names displaying their well wishes. Unfortunately, they see the Ghouls as weapons and not people, so their wishes are... well.

A: 碍(ài) "hinder, obstruct"

B: 别(bié) "split, break apart"

C: 袭(xí) "sneak attack"

D: 毒(dú) "poison"

E: 扼(è) "chokehold, control"

F: 伏(fú) "subjugate, rule"

Ada had no idea she had such a name. Emily hates it. F is the only one who will respond to it even after they run away.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2.I RAMBLED TOO MUCH. I COMPLAINED ABOUT NO MEAT, BUT IT NOW HAS TOO MUCH MEAT.

[writingwenches]

Beginnings

synopsis: we meet our peasant girl!OC, Lyn, as she travels to a market to sell her wares were she runs into a supposed prince, who is a bit of a brat lol. (it is alluded to that the OC is plus size and mixed race, but I did write this quick so its missing lots of info bits).

authors note: this is basically an info dump LOL the opening chapter of an oc/au House of the Dragon Aemond/Peasant!OC fic. Very Princess and the Pauper. The main idea behind it being – wanting to introduce more woman living at court in the Red Keep. Targaryen!cest is not my thing, and I think there's a lot to be said about the lack of woman at court and the fact that Targaryen daughters are expected to marry their brothers #oops.

additional lore: More about Lyn, the Lannisters, and Helaena/other characters.

word count: ~3k

warnings: barely edited, ableism, classism, body image issues, misogyny, general medieval sentiments, very AU/fast and loose when it comes to ASOIAF lore (such as I know the Septas teach girls to read, but its more fun for a cute crush to do it)

The road was well built and raised from the dank, mudded ground. The sound of horse hooves pounding ebbed in and out of focus as they hurried by. The Sister Septas never wanted to give the impression of favoritism, so they made sure to never allow the girls in their charge to ride along, if they were old enough to walk, they could carry themselves to the market, it was one of the many harsh lessons the sisters blessed her with other the years, made up of weeks of seven days, each guided by one of the seven gods.

The Day of the Mother was spent serving those in need and Lyn had worn the village paths well. Lyn was no stranger to hard work. Her frame was sturdy and healthy. Her back was wide, good for hauling bales of hey and baskets of stone. Her legs were powerful, easily carrying her the tens of miles to those in need of her services. And, adorning her face since birth, was a black mark of raised flesh below her right eye. Many say it's an omen of her mother’s sins, and a reason to be left to the charity of the Sisters. Whatever it was, it made Lyn easily requested for hired labors.

Most in the Realm would scoff at the offer of manual labors from a woman, but those in need are much kinder. They they are not always grateful, it is not because of her sex but because no one wants to turn beggar. 

The Day of the Crone was for lectures, often on the immorality of allowing one self to be in need or unwanted. For unwanted men of the realm, there was the Night’s Watch. Some unwanted boys are sent as soon as they were old enough to lift a sword. They were raised and trained to be useful along their brothers, forged to the sole purpose of defending the realm and never to be left wanting. 

The Faith recruited woman of fine birth, in want of a life not owned by a husband, and those who’s families were willing to pay handsomely for a life of purpose for their unfortunately female child. Women worked and clawed and won their way into the duty of a Septa, the Faith had no use for useless girls. There was no place in the realm for unwanted girls. Brothels did not want them. They already had enough bastards, and young flesh did not turn enough of a profit. Girls were not wanted unless they were useful, and many unuseful girls found themselves living on the streets or dead in a ditch. 

That was what would befall Lyn is she were ever to be found wanting, of something more, of something else. She was lucky to have been given her place amongst the holy woman of the Faith, even if she was not going to benefit from their handouts much longer.

Lyn was not sure how many baskets she was carrying, she had threaded her arms through as many as she was able and began the miles long trek to Haronfall Port for the market. Though she was not yet allowed to keep her own coin, it was good practice for her future life of trading and bartering amongst the peasants of the realm.

Charity is the only hope for useless girls, and not enough to go around. The Maidenhouse of Haronfall was an ancient structure, run by the Faith for centuries as a place to send discarded girl-children, forging useless girls into something worthy. It was their true calling, regardless of what those girls’ wants. 

Lyn owed everything to the Faith and the Septas, even when she received her lashings. She always deserved them. Six lashes for each offense, as was the law of the land, one for every god of the Seven, counting out The Stranger. It was bad luck to strike a seventh time, unless wishing them death. And the Septas were never that cruel. 

Lyn had received lashing her six lashing for talking back, and being a layabout, for asking too many questions, for being too ambitious, for pride, for stealing bread, for not finishing supper, for lying to protect another, for being too loud, quiet, and simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The same was true for all the girls. Sets of six lashings for each failure on the long list of their life, unless there were seven failures, then eight sets of lashings would be administered. For good luck. 

Lyn was forced to the side of the road by passing carts, hounds barking from the back of the cart as they passed the strange shape of her basket cocoon. The mud is thick and pliable, every footstep loudly sucked from the dank swamp like floor. The hundreds of other feet that had trodded the ground began the kneading. Lyn feels like she is swimming along the the edges of the road.

Lyn surmised most of the Septas had not imagined ending up in such a cold, dank place in the middle of the Kingsroad. The western shores of The Bite was unforgiving terrain, a swamp of brackish, mud-colored water that every structure eventually sinks into. The Reverend Mother often reminded the girls of her life in the southern Reach, of the endless summer days and sweet smelling grass. The wet, grey skies where the North, Riverlands and Vale meet leaves much to be desired for a southerner. 

Lynora was not meant for a life as a Septa, as was foretold since her youth. The maesters and Septons tested the young girls as they came into the charge of the Faith and Lynora, and the other girls of the Maidenhouse, left them unimpressed. She had not shown intelligence, or gifts for art, or sums, or memorizing prayers. So, she was ranked amongst the useless girls who needed to be molded into something more. 

On the Day of the Smith, the girls were instructed to work on their personal projects. Lyn was a skilled basket maker, she harvested, dried and weaved the fibers all on her own. If only the world had been in want for more basket weavers. The Septas assured her there was never a need for an extra weavers apprentice.

“Lyn!” a voice called, her face blurred out by the rising sun. “Have you been to the market yet today?” It was Mads, her fellow ward of the Maidenhouse. 

“No, it is too early,” Lyn answered the obvious question, “How did you–“

“Listen, Lord Ryver sent a raven,” Mads continued, finally coming into speaking distance. 

“But, the Septas hate when he does that–“

“Lord Ryver is playing host to none other than the prince,” Mads could not keep the secret any longer. “I have seen him myself, silver hair and all.” 

Lyn did not bother reacting, as Ryver was a known talltale-teller. “And I am secretly Lady Frey,” she laughed, “The prince is not in Haronfall.” 

“It is fated that you say Frey, because you shall never guess–“ 

“The septa told us nought a week ago of the King’s birthday tourney, don’t you think his son would be there…in the Crownlands, with his father.” 

“Waltel Frey has seen his dragon!” 

Lynora stopped at this. “And we are now believing Waltel Frey?”

“I have to go fetch Wren! She can not miss this,” Mads was the one walking now, back down the road towards the Maidenhouse to spread false whispers the Septas were sure to retaliate for. 

Lyn stepped aside when she heard the call, a two horse cart clomped past with banners of indigo, emblazoned with a proud, white bird. A matching figure sat on the cart, in the place of honor. A woman in a white dress, adorned with dyed feathers and pearls.

It was a strange feeling, knowing someones name, there was an old power Lyn felt creeping from the roots below the swampy road. Lady Hanna Mallister, filled to bursting with another pup for her lord husband. It was sickening the way her belly jiggled as the horse mindlessly aimed for the most uneven path before them. The lady had traveled a week from Seaguard for the monthly market, and Lyn had watched her grow every month with child, enough for Lyn to wonder how many babes were inside her belly this time. 

There was a parodical to bow in the presence, but there was nothing behind the lady’s eyes to notice. Lyn studied her as she passed, searching for something in response, something that could say why this woman would spend half of her life on the road, when so pregnant. 

If there was something to be said about unwanted girls, is that they were unwanted by all. Lyn was glad she would remain unwanted, there was nothing expected of her, so no one would ever be disappointed. 

Sometimes as the Lady Hanna Mallister passed, she would take a passing place down at Lyn. Lyn imagined she was looked at the mark on her face. Many people would say a quiet prayer when they say her, especially those swollen with child. A prayer that their girl doesn’t end up so disfigured and disgusting. Lady Hanna did not seem to say a prayer when she gazed down on her face, the lady did not seem to do anything. 

Lyn did not mind being disgusting and ugly, actually she enjoyed it. Girls did not care about such things as ugly, they cared about her all the same. She knew of the dangers of a beautiful face, the Septas told them every tale that could exist of beautiful girls being dragged away and savaged by men of all ages and sizes. It was horrifying. Lyn was glad that no man would ever want to drag her away or trap her in a tower. All she could promise was ugly children in return. No man wants that. So, she was glad the world was not ruled by women, just like the Septas they would force a use for her in their world, no matter what she looked like. 

By the time she reached Haronfall, long after the Lady of Seaguard she imagined, Lyn had almost forgotten about the tale of the silver haired prince. The other girls of the Maidenhouse fell into step with one another, each of the group responsible for their own wares. Name sharpened knives, Name jarred herbal jams, Name made rope, Lyn wove baskets, and the girls would peddle their wares every monthly market, bartering with connections, always on the lookout for open positions or wanted work. They were not going to live in the Maidenhouse forever, and the older they got, their chances of a comfortable life dwindled. 

His father had thrown yet another grand week in his own honor, tourneys and a great hunt in the Kingswood. Aemond had been forced to sit through enough for one lifetime, even if he was barely a man grown. He could not help but find a quick reason to excuse himself from the festivities, especially with the task of traveling halfway across the kingdom. 

Helaena had been born so closely to his father, the king, that her own name day celebrations were always greatly overshadowed. He could not help but jump at the opportunity to fetch her a gift in the Riverlands…or the Vale…or potentially the North. Flying above the lands on Vhagar, he had noticed a distinct lack of boundaries, like the ones on the Maesters maps. 

Aemond had been stuck in the cold swamplands for nearly a day, and could understand why his studied of geography skimmed over the shores of The Bite, there was simply nothing there. He was glad at the lack of fanfare at his arrival, the Lord of the keep was away, celebrating the King’s name day, and all that was left was his two sons, one near his own age, and the other barely aged out of childhood. 

His fist connected with bone. Blood leaked from holes in the boy’s face. Aemond had wrapped himself on the boy, to pin him to the first and wailed into his face. Aemond could hear the other boy shouting and grabbing his shoulders, Aemond did not yield. He was going to prove himself the victor even if it killed the boy. 

Aemond could feel hands wrapping around his face, his reflexes reacting as if they were clearly going to remove his eye patch. 

“My prince!” Ryver shouted, as if he were about to warn of a fire.

Aemond pulled his punch as Ryver’s alarmed expression bringing him back into focus to the world around them. The bustling sounds of the town. 

“The maidens,” River said, gently shaking Aemond’s shoulders at his confusion. “They are arriving!”

Walton Frey, the boy Aemond had been beating with his bare fists, smiled as blood splattered out of his mouth. 

The young boy, River’s kid brother, barely old enough to be out from his mother’s skirts, offered him a skin of water.

“What?” Aemond could not find any other word to describe his confusion. He knew of Maidenpoole and House Mooton, but they were on the other side of The Vale. The young prince racked his brain for the towns and houses of the area, unable to find an explanation. 

He simply needed to follow the pointed finger of Lord Ryver, as the Frey boy cleared the blood from his face with half the skin of water.

He heard their song first, the same tune he had heard carried by the Septas in King’s Landing when he went light candles with his mother, the queen. He had never heard the tune carried to lightly, with punctuations of laughter, and the crisp voices of youth. 

There were about a dozen of them. 

“The old bats let them come to our markets,” Ryver offered the prince his hand, to finally move Aemond off the Frey boy. “Truely, it is the only thing the market has to offer, if you ask me,” Ryver laughed, ushering the prince to the edge of the weakly fenced in training yard. “The Maiden’s of the Maidenhouse,” Ryver sighed, melting into the fence.

Pesants. The lot of them. Girls dressed in grey wool that made Aemond’s skin itch. They were each different, wearing the same dress, lacking the graceful symmetry of courtly woman. The ladies of court had their places at the sides of their husbands and fathers, offering a gentle voice and soft hand to hold. Women were there to make men better, otherwise, Otto had told him, men would regress into beasts, doing nothing but fighting and burning the realm to the ground. The ladies of court were raised with the knowledge of how to quell thoughts of violence with a simple kind glance. Not that Aemond had ever experienced it himself, but his grandsire had assured him during their many conversations about…urges.

“Ladies!” Waltel Frey called out with a wave of his sore arm. 

Aemond scoffed, it was an insult to the world to call these creatures ladies.

They approached in an uneven form, whoever veered down the path at their beckoning of a Frey. One limping girl was even carrying her own shoes amongst her wares, and Aemond could see mud past her ankles. 

“Lord Frey, do you not have two castles to sleep in, and yet you still choose to be here?” The first girl asked as she reached the fence, knocking on the helmet Ryver’s kid insisted on wearing, Aemond assumed even to bed. 

Aemond did not bother hiding his disgust at the pathetic display of peasantry that appeared before him. During his rides through King’s Landing, the prince had seen more organized gaggles of geese. The cream atop the cake approached, wearing armor of baskets, and a face smeared with mud.

She dropped the baskets at the fence line, releasing a long, labored breath. “So,” she spoke, clearly minded. 

Aemond wondered how heavy baskets could possibly be. 

“Is this your prince, Lord Ryver?” The grey clothed girl looked him directly in this eye, no sense of pretense or reverence. 

Ryver wrapped himself around the nearest fencepost to Aemond, with a wolfish grin, ready to pled his case to the nonbelievers. He had said these girls were raised by the Faith, but Aemond knew of piety, and these girls were a poor example of what a pious woman could be. 

“Are we to believe that he is the only one-eyed, silver haired, man in all the world?” a sceptic asked. 

“How many could there possibly be?” Ryver argued. 

“Yes, but,” a smaller girl interrupted, “he looks like he lost his eye, rather than–?” 

There was a bubbling in Aemond’s chest, as the peasantry spoke about him as if he weren’t even there. He could feel the dragon fire bellowing in his chest, daring them to speak ill of him, ready to burn their pathetic village to the ground. 

“Wouldn’t he had been born that way? They are forced to marry their bothers, after all? Resulting in…such things?” 

Aemond’s mouth was open, without him realizing. The rage at the memory of his defeat at the hands of his nephew vanished and was replaced with the vision of a cyclops babe, writhing in its crib. 

Ryver eyed him with suspicion. 

Aemond could not help but laugh.

[vicvinegarandhughhoney]

the harder the rain, honey the sweeter the sun

Fandom: AP Bio

Pairing: Jack Griffin/Lynette Hofstadter

Prompt: Motion Sickness

Jack gets motion sick. That's it.

(TW for vomit)

Read here or below the cut

“Ralph, if you do not let me sit at the front of this goddamn bus I swear I’m going home right now.”

Jack’s late to the school trip, because of course he is, and Lynette watches him from her window seat at the back of the bus with a bemused smile on her face. He's stood outside directly facing Durbin, arms crossed like an army staff sergeant even as his entitled behaviour spills over into brat territory. He apparently wants to sit at the front. Bad. 

“I’m sorry, Jack, but you arrived nearly-” Durbin checks his watch. “Half an hour after you were supposed to get here- if you'd been here on time, I might have been able to get you a seat near the front, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do now.”

Jack huffs exasperatedly, turning to glare at his front-seated opponents. “Half the kids up there could easily swap seats to somewhere further up the bus. It's ridiculous.”

Durbin shrugs. “Maybe, but they're all settled now. You’ll cause commotion if you try to change them all around like that. You know how many rivalries there are in high school, Jack? Hundreds.”

“I don't care whether they declare world war three because of me, Ralph! Just move them around!”

But for once, Durbin is putting his foot down. He shakes his head, and gestures to the door of the bus. 

“Not possible. Now c’mon, man. Go sit down before you make things harder than they have to be.”

Lynette can tell Jack is pissed- he has that same vein popping in his neck which appears when someone criticises Henry David Thoreau. Still, he seems to consider admitting defeat on the bus front preferable to embarrassing himself by pushing it further, so with flaming cheeks he storms up the steps and down the aisle towards her. The moment he flops into the seat next to her, she arches a brow. 

“Is it so bad sitting next to me?”

He sighs. Shakes his head gently, even as tension remains in every limb. “It’s not that, Lyns. I would’ve got you to sit next to me wherever in the bus we ended up.”

She frowns. “So? What's the big deal with sitting back here then?”

There's a split second where Jack’s cheeks flush even redder, right before he composes himself and shrugs. 

“It’s… it’s nothing. Just- you get a better view from the front, s’all.”

A better view? She’s not about to press it, but God is he particularly bad at lying today.

The engine soon starts to rumble, and Durbin stands at the front of the bus to begin his spiel about seatbelts and behaviour. They’re going to the Toledo Museum of Art, not MOMA, but evidently the future reputation of Whitlock is at stake here. Durbin means business. 

Jack seems a little distanced during the speech, which is to be expected. Lynette catches him fiddling with his buckle for a while, shifting in his seat to get comfortable, rummaging around in his bag, etc etc. At one point, she reaches out a hand to catch his, hovering as it is over a bracelet on his other arm that he's been slingshotting against his skin for a minute straight. 

“Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you're not careful.” She chides gently. 

Jack doesn't say anything, merely rouges a little further and pulls his sweater secretively over his wrist so the bracelet is no longer visible. Huh. Odd. 

“Alright,” Durbin finishes, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

He swings round to sit down, and almost immediately the bus lurches forward. Lynette doesn't miss the way Jack’s hands leap out to grab hold of the edges of his seat (even if he does pull them away again almost as soon as they find purchase). 

She raises an eyebrow in silent question, but he keeps his gaze forwards, Adam's apple bobbing. If she were a betting woman, she'd wager that something's bothering him. 

If only she knew what it was. 

The first ten minutes of the journey Jack spends with his eyes shut, hands fidgeting in his lap. He flinches at the occasional bump in the road but other than that? He's still as a statue. 

Things take a turn around the twenty minute mark, though. He opens his eyes, and there's a slight flash of panic in them- one that he conceals well except when they roll over yet another speed bump, at which point his pupils dilate with obvious fear and his hands reach down again to grip at his seat. His moments of stillness are over, too. Now, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat like no position is bearable for his old bones. Lynette grins. 

“These Toledo roads too juddery for you, old man? You look like you're worried you're gonna step off with bruises.”

Jack wears an unbelievably fake smile for a second, until another pothole wipes it clean off his face- as well as, apparently, every ounce of colour.

The flush on his cheeks has completely disappeared, replaced by an uncanny pallor that Lynette has only seen on him once, when he was so sick with the flu he couldn't even hold his own head up. She frowns.

“You alright?”

He nods, too quick to be sincere, then hurriedly leans down to rummage through the bag at his feet. From it he withdraws a little orange pill bottle, pours a few into his hand, and tips them back shakily. Follows it up with a meagre sip of water.

Lynette spies the label just before he shoves the bottle right back down into the bag.

Dramamine.

Oh. Oh.

He must notice her expression change, because he suddenly looks at her imploringly. Desperately. She expects him to tell her they need to pull over, but instead he swallows, appearing more nauseated by the second, and murmurs,

“Please- please don't tell anyone.”

Lynette's heart breaks a little.

“Oh, hon, you know that I’d never tell anybody something you didn't want them to know… still, do you want me to go see if Durbin can get a seat change?” Jack’s eyes widen, and she puts a reassuring hand on his arm. “Look, I know you don't want him to know, but I’m sure that if he understood the reasoning behind you wanting a seat near the front, he might… Jack?”

She realises far too late that his eyes widening was not in fact a response to her suggestion, but instead a far more dire warning.

Now, he closes them entirely, trembling a little as he breathes rhythmically. There's sweat beading on the back of his neck.

“M… think I’m gonna be sick…” he murmurs weakly.

It's hardly a surprise. He's so pale now that it's even clear to some kids across the aisle that Mr Griffin? He isn't feeling so hot.

Lynette swears under her breath. Unbuckles her belt.

“Alright, hold on, Jack, just hold on- I’m gonna go tell the driver to stop, okay?”

As she stands, he gropes shakily about the air for her arm, before finding and clutching it.

“W-wait, Lyns, don't go.” His eyes remain squeezed shut. His other hand keeps that vice-like grip on his seat.

Lynette feels truly sorry for him. God, she does. She can see kids from further away in the bus starting to gossip now- after all, she's stood, and her boyfriend is holding her arm like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to this realm while he swallows convulsively.

“I gotta get the driver, sweetheart, but I promise I'll be back.”

She reaches up to briefly swipe her thumb along the jut of his cheekbone; watches him melt, shuddering, into the touch before she reluctantly pulls away and hurries into the aisle. The bus continues thundering along the roads, sending her teetering this way and that while she tries to move forward in a way that makes even her queasy. She dreads to think how Jack’s holding up with the movement.

Eventually, she reaches the front. Durbin is sat talking to Helen, but he trails off when he sees Lynette approaching the driver.

“Ms Hofstadter? What are you doing?”

She ignores him. There isn't time for explanatory remarks.

“Excuse me, driver?”

The guy’s wearing shades and a little earpiece (way too high-end for goddamn Toledo) and at first he doesn't seem to hear her, so she clears her throat and tries again.

“Excuse me? Driver?”

He starts, eyes flitting from the road to her desperate expression.

“Uh, can I help you?”

“I need you to pull over.”

Durbin leans forward to tap her on the shoulder.

“Uh, Miss Hofstadter, I’m afraid we can't just-”

“Ralph, it's important.”

“-stop the bus for every whim, we'll be there soon and-”

“Ralph.” Lynette says brusquely, turning to look at him. “If we don't stop this bus right now, Jack is going to… Ralph… everywhere.”

Durbin frowns, mouthing the words as if to make sense of them. It takes a few seconds, but soon his own eyes are widening with realisation.

“He’s…?”

“Motion sick.” Lynette confirms with a nod. “And he's not looking good back there, Durbs. We have to pull over. Now.”

Thankfully, Durbin sighs. Nods to the driver, who's been listening in to the conversation and looks pretty damn eager to spare his bus from the havoc which could ensue if he doesn't follow Lynette's instructions.

The moment she knows the bus is starting to slow, she speedwalks back up the aisle towards Jack, who’s now hunched over, whole body trembling slightly. He has a fist held to his mouth, the other arm now slung protectively around his stomach.

“Hey, sweetheart?” She crouches down next to him in the aisle, uncaring that everybody’s eyes are now on them. “Jack?”

She rubs him gently on the arm and he rears his head, looking utterly miserable.

“We’re pulling over now.” She soothes, stroking the wispy hair at the back of his neck, damp with sweat. “Just a few more seconds and we can get off this bus, alright, hon?”

He closes his eyes again, groaning softly as at last the movement grinds to a halt.

“Alright, up we get, sweetheart. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

Clearly too sick to give a shit about how he's perceived, Jack lets Lynette half haul him up from his seat, her hand remaining on the small of his back as she walks him down the aisle of the bus towards the door. His steps are wobbly. Everything's still trembling.

By the time their shoes hit the asphalt, Jack’s footsteps grow more urgent, and Lynette follows him into the woods by the roadside. He’s clearly hoping to get far enough in that his unravelling isn't witnessed by the multitude of high schoolers only metres away, many now with their faces pressed against the glass to see what's happening. Unfortunately, though, his body isn't so kind as to let him get out of sight before he doubles over, retching painfully.

Lynette’s brow knits with concern. “Oh, Jack.”

Her hand moves to rub circles into his quivering back, all his muscles taut with anticipation. One of his fists is still held vaguely in front of his mouth, the other hand splayed out on his knee.

“It’s alright, hon. Just relax, okay? You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”

He shakes his head briefly, wordlessly, but immediately ducks back down again as his body makes another attempt at expelling everything in his stomach. This time it’s pretty successful, and Lynette turns her head away, eyes closing with sympathy at the sound of his breathless heaving.

“There we go. Good job, Jack. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

She continues to reassure him for another minute give or take, wincing every so often at how violent and painful everything appears to be, until at last it dissipates into panting and the gentler sound of Jack spitting into the dirt. 

Accompanied, at last, by a weak exhalation that sounds more like a sob. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright… Feel any better?”

Shakily, he pulls himself upright and swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Turns to her, tears of exertion and defeat running down his cheeks. 

Nods. 

“D-don’t feel so s-sick, just… just t-tired. And- and e-embarrassed.”

Lynette surreptitiously takes his hand. Squeezes it. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Jack. These things happen, right?”

“But the kids-”

“The kids have 15 second attention spans- they’ll see a sculpture that looks kinda like a penis at the museum and this’ll be a distant memory.”

Jack swallows, still shaky. “I- I guess.”

“You ready to head back to the bus, hon? Durbs is bound to let us sit near the front now, and you can take some more Dramamine as well. I’m pretty sure you puked up that other stuff.”

The tips of his ears redden slightly as he nods. He still looks mortified, but at least when Lynette gently tugs on his hand, he follows her back to the bus (even if he does avoid looking up at any of the windows). 

There's a lively buzz of chatter when they approach, but the moment they ascend the stairs, the whole vehicle sinks into silence. Jack’s grip on Lynette's hand tightens. 

“Hey, Jack.” Durbin says, voice soft. Lynette's sure this tone frustrates Jack more than anything. He isn't weak. He isn’t delicate. 

Well, maybe he is a little, but that's okay. It doesn't mean he needs to be spoken to like he's about to crumple at any moment. 

“I got a few of the kids to move.” Durbin continues. “Hopefully the seats up front’ll be, uh, better for you. Do you…” He looks up tentatively to Lynette now. “Does he need a bag or something? We carry a few for the travel sick kids but-”

Jack pulls away from Lynette and walks quickly to the new seats, ignoring Durbin’s small plea for him to hang on. Lynette watches him slink into the row of two seats that's now free and buckle himself into the one nearest the window, cheeks aflame and eyes fixed on the scenery outside. 

She turns back to Durbin. “I’ll take one of the bags just in case.” She says in a low voice, slipping the one she receives into her pocket. “But for the love of God don't compare Jack to a travel sick kid, and don’t speak about him like he isn't there.”

Durbin stammers. “I- I wasn’t trying to-”

Lynette sighs. “I know… I know. He’s just feeling a little sorry for himself, and the last thing he needs is more humiliation- even if it isn't intentional.”

She gives him a small smile to show she isn't really upset (her tone often slips into confrontational when Jack’s wellbeing is concerned) and quickly slips into the seat beside her boyfriend. He’s still looking blankly out the window, Adam's apple bobbing every so often to conceal the rising emotion. 

Carefully, she reaches down for his bag (already placed at his feet by a student- probably Heather) and retrieves the little bottle of Dramamine. She measures out a couple of pills and holds them in the palm of her outstretched hand for Jack.

“Hey. Sweetheart. Gonna take some more meds for me?”

He turns slowly towards her, cheeks still stained with tear tracks. Thankfully, he doesn't put up a fuss about the Dramamine- merely tips them back and settles into his seat. It's a clear sign that he's exhausted. 

“Here.” She offers him his bottle of water. “You know what I say about dry-swallowing shit. C’mon. Chase it down with something. I think you need the fluids anyway.”

His hands are still trembling when he takes the water bottle (it could be why he was reluctant to get it himself), and he swallows the sips extra cautiously like he's still afraid he’ll hurl at any moment. 

“Good job, Jack.” She whispers. 

At the front of the bus, Durbin stands up briefly, directing a questioning glance and a thumbs up towards Lynette.

We good to go?

She gives him a reciprocal thumbs up.

Good to go. 

In truth, she really isn't sure whether Jack is good to go. She doesn't know how travel sickness works, whether he's going to be fine now that he's got everything out of his system or whether the moment the engine starts back up again, she’ll need to reach for that bag in her pocket. What she does know, however, is that the longer they stay stopped here, the more Jack is going to feel the weight of everybody's eyes on his. The more the shame will grow. 

So she sits back as the bus rumbles to life, and reaches out to take his clammy hand in hers.

It doesn't take long for him to drift off- the medication, the stress, and pure physical exhaustion render sleep inevitable. He tries to fight it at first, perhaps still too self-conscious to submit to yet another display of ‘weakness’, but his blinks grow more languid by the second, and his breaths begin to slow of their own accord. The endless Ohio roads melt into one great snaking blob in the steadily misting window pane. 

His chin tips forward a few times, then jerks back up, before at last Lynette eases his head against her shoulder, squeezing his hand. 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” She murmurs into his ear as the kids chatter about nothing important around them. 

He sinks fully against her. Clearly, permission was all he needed. 

She snakes a hand around his back so she can wrap her arm around him and subtly stroke his hair. Pulls him even closer. Presses a kiss to his forehead. 

Half a mile down the road, they’ll arrive at their destination and the kids will file out of the bus. Some will pause in the aisle, curiosity piqued. 

“Is Mr Griffin alright?” They’ll whisper, touchingly conscious of keeping their voices down. 

Lynette will smile gently. “He hasn’t been feeling very well, that's all. He’ll be alright soon, I promise.”

They’ll nod their heads sympathetically, and soon will file off like the rest. Jack and Lynette will be left alone. Even the bus driver will abandon his post for the time being. 

Still, Jack will sleep. 

Still, Lynette will stay. 

[king-of-men]

The Battle Hymn of the Republic is probably most familiar as music; but in translating it I found that it is really excellent as poetry. Consider that famous phrase, "the grapes of wrath"; it is a dead metaphor now in English, killed by overuse out of its original context. Seeing it with the fresh eyes of a different language let me appreciate the power of the image: The grapes of wrath, from which are made the wine of wrath - heavy on the tongue, hot in the belly, a fire in the blood; the wine that soldiers drink before battle, that makes them charge the cannon's mouth. It's a phrase anchored in physicality, if you don't slide right past it through familiarity; "He is trampling out the vintage" - I am pleased that in Norwegian I was able to add an additional verb here, "han har trampet ut en årgang og av vredens druer smakt". I don't know if Mrs Howe had drunk of the wine of wrath herself; but when she wrote that, she'd surely had a glass or two of the mead of poetry.

I have dropped the refrain "Glory, glory, hallelujah", which relies for its best effect on being sung by several hundred deep male voices marching down a dusty road with a battle at its end; it is fine music but does not really contribute to the poetry of the words alone. I've kept, however, the concluding "…is marching on" that punctuates each verse, making it "…er i anmarsj", slightly archaic Norwegian that fits well with the religious imagery. This turned out to be the most difficult part to illustrate, in a poem in which I struggled much more with the images than the words; in the end I gave up on getting any sort of metaphor for "truth marching on" through StableDiffusion, which I used for the triple-alpha rhymes, and instead put in contemporary paintings and drawings. At any rate this serves to mark the refrains as distinct from the main verses.

The final line, which Howe wrote as "let us die to make men free", is now often sung as "let us live to make men free", presumably on the theory that dead men do not actually accomplish very much and the real goal is to make the other side's soldiers die for their cause. The argument has undoubted force. On the other hand, so many of the men who sang these words in deadly earnest genuinely did die to free the slaves; died by the hundreds of thousands, by bullet and canister and cholera. My translation, somewhat unfortunately, avoids the difficulty entirely with "menns frihet er vårt krav"; the triple-alpha rhyme scheme is a cruel master here, and I could not find any way to work in either life or death.

Jeg har sett med egne øyne Herren komme i sin makt; han har trampet ut en årgang og av vredens druer smakt. Han har sluppet asgardsreien løs og lyn fra sverdet brakt. Hans sannhet i anmarsj!

I hundre vaktmenns leirbål har jeg sett ham klar til kamp; de har reist for ham et alter her i aftnens røk og damp; en rettferdig dom jeg leser, og jeg hører bødlens tramp: Hans dag er i anmarsj!

Jeg har sett hans skrifter flamme i stål og krigersk mot: ``Forakt skal dere hevne, og jeg tilgir deres bot''; la helten, født av kvinne, knuse slangen under fot, For Gud er i anmarsj!

Vi har hørt trompeten kalle, det blir aldri mer retrett; han veier alles hjerter, for hans domstol er vi stedt; Vær rask, min sjel, å svare ham; føtter, vær beredt! Vår gud er i anmarsj!

Han ble født i liljens skjønnhet langt der borte over hav; i hans bryst var det en glorie som hver enkelt nåde gav. Han døde for menns synder, og menns frihet er vårt krav! For Gud er i anmarsj!

[callunavulgari]

"The kingdom come, the rise, the fall The setting sun above it all I just wanna be somebody to you"

Heather’s Top 50 Songs of 2023

thumbs — sabrina carpenter // dragostea din tei — feuerschwanz // edge of midnight — miley cyrus & stevie nicks // warrior of the mind — jorge rivera-herrans // happier than ever — kelly clarkson // flowers — miley cyrus // see you again — miley cyrus // six — six cast // fairytale — joel sunny // middle of the night — elley duhe // our light — lyn // it's terror time again — sesamoid // eat your young — hozier // step into darkness — dubkiller // got you — ga eun // just a man — jorge rivera-herrans // labour — paris paloma // the tornado — owl city // green green grass — george ezra // suzume — radwimps // can't take my eyes off you — boys town gang // survive — jorge rivera-herrans // mermaids— florence & the machine // unknown/Nth — hozier // we didn't start the fire — fall out boy // hold me like a grudge — fall out boy // where is the justice — death note musical // 30/90 — andrew garfield // everyday — buddy holly // i'm just ken — ryan gosling // what was i made for? — billie eilish // speechless — naomi scott // son of nyx — hozier // damage gets done — hozier & brandi carlile // paradise valley — honey and the sting // stand by me — florence & the machine //  my prayer — the platters // baby don't hurt me — david guetta // quietly yours — birdy // someone to you  — banners // one more time — blink 182 // adelaide — ramblewood // i'm just your problem — lur // you're gonna be okay — ashh blackwood // mr lonely  — angel olsen // now and then — the beatles // vois sur ton chemin — bennett // history is now — natalie holt // purpose is glorious — natalie holt // the power — borislav slavov

short version | long version | spotify wrapped

short version is the link to what you see here, my helpfully abridged version. long version will lead you to the 141 song, 8 hour and 17 minute supercut playlist which i’ve been slowly cultivating since early january. spotify wrapped will lead you to a mixture of the long and the short version, which is honestly pretty accurate but does not helpfully represent my ear worms of the week. i also skewed my data for it by listening to the spiritfarer and hollow knight soundtracks on repeat to ease the wedding anxieties.

also fun fact, the cover for this year's mix is actually a picture of the tree outside our room during our wedding day.

under the cut are the lyrics that really resonated with me and only a little personal tidbits from this year, because let's be real, nobody cares.

i. thumbs || sabrina carpenter 'cause that's just the way of the world it never ends 'til the end and then you start again

This one was playing as we left the florence concert late last year and dogged me all through january and february last winter. ii. dragostea din tei || feuerschwanz Alo, salut, sunt eu un haiduc Si te rog iubirea mea primeste fericirea

Yes, it's a metal cover. Yes, I found it on tiktok. Yes, I love it unconditionally.

iii. edge of midnight || miley cyrus & stevie nicks The midnight sky is the road I'm takin' Head high up in the clouds (oh, oh)

There's THREE Miley Cyrus songs on here this year. Nuts. I really loved cranking this while driving home from Newark back when I was still hybrid. Much serotonin in those gray winter months. iv. warrior of the mind || jorge rivera-herrans & teagan earley Maybe one day they'll follow me and we'll Make a greater tomorrow, then they'll see Is it REALLY a surprise that Epic grabbed me by the throat this year?

v. happier than ever || kelly clarkson You ruined everything good Always said you were misunderstood Made all my moments your own Just fucking leave me alone I actually ended up hearing the Billie Eilish version of this first, but I ended up reading a post about how Billie's version was for the shitty boyfriend's of the world but Kelly's was to her mom and just. That resonated SO so much that it's stuck with me ever since. I have a complicated relationship with mine. She didn't come to my wedding this year. Anyway, definitely screamed this in my car on long drives. vi. flowers || miley cyrus i can buy myself flowers write my name in the sand

I need to preface this with the fact that my partner and I have a wonderful relationship that I wouldn't trade for the world. This song is still a fucking banger. vii. see you again || miley cyrus I got my sights set on you and I'm ready to aim I have a heart that will never be tamed

Third Miley song of the year, I believe all ear worms before March. I ended up getting in a Tiktok loop of body transformations set to this song while I was really getting into working with weights. It was great inspiration that I DEARLY needed that early into things. The song is also incredibly catchy. viii. six || six cast we're one of a kind, no category too many years lost in his story I honestly feel like we saw this musical last year but this song in particular dogged me into this one. ix. fairytale || joel sunny *instrumental*

Found this instrumental version of a much beloved song due to a random discover weekly and loved it so much that I seriously considered using it in my wedding. x. middle of the night || elley duhe Come, lay me down 'Cause you know this 'Cause you know this sound

Shh, it's the horny booktok song. I won't be shamed. xi. our light || lyn 夢を夢と気づいた夜 君を見つめ瞼を閉じる 温もりも重ねた手も声も 目覚めれば微睡みへと消えて

I have been trying to finish persona 5 royal since 2020. this year, i finally beat it. xii. it's terror time again || sesamoid Oh, you just might die of fright, It's a terrifying time.

Yes, it's a Scooby Doo remix. yes, I love it. xiii. eat your young || hozier I'm starving, darling Let me put my lips to something Let me wrap my teeth around the world The horniest Hozier song since Take Me to Church in my humble opinion. I adored it immediately. xiv. step into darkness || dubkiller Blood on your hands, maybe you're dreaming? Do you believe, nightmares you're seeing?

Tiktok? xv. got you || ga eun Will you promise you’ll rescue me Take me from eternal loneliness

This was the theme song (I think?) to a Korean drama we were obsessed with for a little bit and I don't think we ever finished? Song is interesting though and sticks with you. xvi. just a man || jorge rivera-herrans When does a ripple become a tidal wave? When does the reason become the blame? When does a man become a monster? More Epic, because I am a mythology loving twelve year old at heart. The many, MANY tiktoks to this particular song did not help.

xvii. labour || paris paloma The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing?

It's catchy. I had more typed out but tumblr fucking ate it, so fuck it.

xviii. the tornado || owl city A little rain never hurt no one, so I kept pressin' on And I tried to tell myself it's always darkest before the dawn

Another song I played very loudly while driving home.

xix. green green grass || george ezra Green, green grass, blue, blue sky You better throw a party on the day that I die

Dancy song!

xx. suzume || radwimps ル・ル・ルルルルル・ルルル・ルルルルルル ル・ル・ルルルルル・ルルル・ルルルルルル We saw this in theaters! I really loved it! xxi. can't take my eyes off you || boys town gang You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you The Tiktok dances got me. More serotonin when I really needed it. xxii. survive || jorge rivera-herrans Six hundred lives I'll take Six hundred lives I'll break And when I kill you, then my deed is over

More Epic! xxiii. mermaids || florence & the machine You only get one night upon the shore So dance like you've never danced before

I love Florence. That is all. xxiv. unknown / nth || hozier You know the distance never made a difference to me I swam a lake of fire, I'd have walked across the floor of any sea

Hozier was honestly the artist that kept me the most company this year if I'm not counting Spiritfarer or Hollow Knight. xxv. we didn't start the fire || fall out boy Mars rover, Avatar, self-driving electric cars SSRI's, Prince and The Queen die World trade, second plane, what else do I have to say?

I know it won't happen, but I hope every generation does a remake/remix of this song. Also, I saw Billy Joel himself in concert this year! xxvi. hold me like a grudge || fall out boy Hold me, hold me like a grudge The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, whoa Honestly, I was a fan. xxvii. where is the justice || death note cast isn't everybody sick to death of all this stuff can't we all stand up and say enough?

This song gets stuck in my head like no one's business. xxviii. 30/90 || tick tick boom cast making choices, wicked witches poppy fields, or men behind the curtain tiger lilies, ruby slippers clock is ticking, that's for certain I still think that if Stranger Things did a musical episode Steve Harrington would have Andrew Garfield from Tick Tick Boom energy. xxix. everyday || buddy holly Every day seems a little longer Every way, love's a little stronger

Good Omens 2 dropped! I loved it! I also didn't love it! But mostly I was just happy. xxx. i'm just ken || ryan gosling I wanna know what's like to love, to be the real thing Is it a crime? Am I not hot when I'm in my feelings? And is my moment finally here, or am I dreaming?

I went to see this movie by myself because I was sick of waiting for someone to go with me and honestly had a great time. It was silly and fun and I loved the fact that so many dudes got so incredibly butt-hurt about it. xxxi. what was i made for || billie eilish 'Cause I, I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try

God, this song. It made me cry at the end of Barbie and I've been getting up in my feelings about it ever since. xxxii. speechless — naomi scott I will take these broken wings And watch me burn across the sky Apparently this is from the Aladdin live action? I haven't seen it so I can't confirm, but I DID hear this song this summer and fall in love with it. xxxiii. son of nyx || hozier *instrumental* This one might be my favorite? xxxiv. damage gets done || hozier And, darling, I haven't felt it since then I don't know how the feeling ended But I know being reckless and young Is not how the damage gets done

Another Hozier!!!!!! xxxv. paradise valley || honey and the sting Take what you want from me I bring it willingly

I may have done these next three out of order, but hey! I got married this year! As some of you may know, paradise valley has been the song that I have been obsessed with since I first heard it on Wolf 359 back in 2018/2019. I couldn't figure out a way to make it work in a traditional sense for the wedding, so I ended up using it as a private last dance. As the clock was hitting ten o'clock we had our dj gently shoo the stragglers out the door and just crooned this to each other in the dark. It was probably my favorite part of the entire night. xxxvi. stand by me || florence & the machine So darlin', darlin', stand by me Oh, stand by me

This was our first dance. As it should be. We timed our few spins around the 'darlins' and it honestly went great. 10 out of 10, would dance again. xxxvii. my prayer || the platters My prayer is to linger with you At the end of the day I did a sneaky thing. It was Nick's grandparents 65th wedding anniversary a few days before our wedding, so I quietly found out "their song" and had our DJ play it as the first official couples/slow dance of the night after wishing them a happy anniversary. They cried. I cried. The photographer cried. It was great. xxxviii. baby don't hurt me || david guetta What is love? Baby, don't hurt me

Yeah, it's just a catchy cover. xxxix. quietly yours || birdy I've always been yours Only yours This was from the Persuasion soundtrack and god, it's just so achingly haunting. xl. someone to you || banners I don't wanna die or fade away I just wanna be someone Well, doesn't everyone?

Look. I just wanna be someone. xli. one more time — blink 182 Do I have to die to hear you miss me? Do I have to die to hear you say goodbye? I don't wanna act like there's tomorrow I don't wanna wait to do this one more time One more time. I got tickets to their concert next year. We'll see if they cancel this one. xlii. adelaide || ramblewood Wish you could lay those shadows down And find your way back home

I think this is a local artist? I fell in love with the song though. xliii. i'm just your problem || lur Sorry I don't treat you like a goddess Is that what you want me to do?

Watched Fionna and Cake in like a day and a half and fell all the way back in love with Bonnie and Marceline. xliv. you're gonna be okay || ashh blackwood puff out your chest, take a deep breath you're gonna be okay

This showed up on an anxiety mix and now I literally sing it to myself if I'm having a fast day. It is VERY short, but impactful. xlv. mr lonely || angel olsen Now, I am a soldier A lonely soldier Away from home Through no wish of my own My Yuletide fic that has not yet been revealed was about [REDACTED]. I listened to this and a handful of other sad, lonely songs while writing it. xlvi. now and then || the beatles Oh, now and then I want you to be there for me This song has DEVASTATED me since it came out. I will not be the same again. xlvii. vois sur ton chemin || bennett Vois sur ton chemin Gamins oubliés, égarés

Another tiktok ear worm. I'm not much for techno, but I love this one. xlviii. history is now || natalie holt *instrumental*

Loki fucked me all the way up, guys. I know everyone is crying about it, and I'm crying too! It's beautiful and tragic and one of the most fantastic endings for a character arc that I have EVER seen out of Marvel. I HOPE they leave it alone. I hope they leave it as is so we get to keep the beautiful ending and they don't fuck it up. xlix. purpose is glorious || natalie holt *instrumental*

Again, fucked me ALL the way up. I wept. And watched it three times in a row. These two songs will be on my writing playlist for the rest of time. l. the power || borislav slavov I found you too soon Shining star of mine, hold tight Don't fight the power

I have not officially finished Baldur's Gate. However, every iteration of this song is haunting me.