#filling empty spaces

[heartlandians]

Filling Empty Spaces (Amy/Mitch), part 250

Mitch and Amy find an unexpected connection due to absent lovers. Set around season 11->.

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this story, so hopefully there won’t be too many grammar errors.

Also, sorry, I know it's been ages since the last chapter, but I want you to know I haven't abandoned the story, I was just trying not to get burned-out out there in the real world and had to take time away from writing to focus on other, more pressing matters. But more coming soon!

****

Amy didn't know how long she had tortured herself by browsing through her accident "rabbit hole" on the internet before she began to feel sick to her stomach.

What she had come to learn was that it wasn't that hard to find countless different angles of the whole thing - and it made sense too, seeing people had their phones out at all times these days.

Whenever the previous clip ended, Amy clicked onto the next recommended video, as if she was trying to exorcise the trauma out of her by the constant repetition of the visuals.

But after a while, she had to admit to herself that the apprehensive feeling only got worse as her mind was feeding the memories to her body, and as it turned out, it wasn't that hard to awaken some of those forgotten sensations.

Eventually, Amy slammed shut the laptop on her counter and covered her mouth, just in case something would actually come out after the repeated torture she had put herself through.

Her body had not stopped trembling ever since the first shot of adrenaline had rushed through her body after seeing what Georgie had showed her; Asher bent backwards, dangerously close to Helico's hind legs, and then her jumping into action.

She had been told what had happened in the hospital, after she had come to, but to imagine something vague like that had been easier than actually seeing it, especially over and over again.

Her memories from that day were still not completely back, and after seeing the video, Amy didn't know if she actually preferred that.

But then again, it was also strange watching herself - now, in the present time, being fully aware of what she was about to do when it had all happened - and not remember any of it. It was like watching a scene from a television show you had seen years ago; you knew the plot, but didn't remember all the details.

Everything she had done checked out - it was exactly something "a Miracle Girl" would do in a situation like that - and Amy could see why she had thought she could have been helpful; Asher had been in danger and no one else had reacted as fast as she had.

To an untrained eye, Asher's dangerous position could have just been part of the thrilling build-up of the performance, which was common when it came to trick-riding, but knowing Asher's plan and how that moment should have gone according to it, seeing it all unfold had immediately let Amy know that something had been off.

Had it not been for her, who knew how long it would have actually taken for someone else to react eventually - and what would they have done instead?

All of that being said, she didn't know if it was because she was currently feeling the painful consequences of her choices or if it was the experience of watching it all unravel from "an outsider's perspective" that made her think she would probably no longer choose that option again, if given a chance.

It had been reckless, no matter how "heroic" it had seemed in the moment.

"Mommy", Lyndy's voice reached her from the doorway.

While her mother had been watching the videos, Lyndy had been in Marion's old bedroom, playing.

Amy turned around, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling so Lyndy wouldn't catch it. "Yes, hun?"

Lyndy walked over to her, holding two hair ties in her hands. Amy opened her hands to receive them, and Lyndy then laid them onto her mother's palms.

"You want me to braid your hair?" Amy checked.

Lyndy nodded repeatedly. "Uh-huh!"

"Okay, then you hold onto these", Amy handed the ties back to Lyndy. "And let's get you on the bed".

Without missing a beat Lyndy rushed over to her bed, climbed on it almost with no effort and then sat down, her back facing her mother.

It was as if Lyndy had known that Amy had needed some type of distraction, a physical pull back to the present, and it had come in the form of them having a calming moment over braiding hair.

"Let me get the brush..." Amy talked out loud in a singsong manner, walking over to her dresser and grabbing her own hairbrush. "Okay, so do you want regular braids or French braids or...?"

"Fh-renczh", Lyndy said, her pronunciation of that word being a little clumsy, but cute.

Amy smiled. "Okay. French it is."

She walked behind Lyndy and began to brush her hair. Just like with horses, the grooming was very soothing for Amy.

She went easy with the first time of combing through as Amy knew Lyndy's hair got tangled easily. Some of those knots would probably have to be handled by using fingers.

"So what have you been doing in your room?" Amy asked her.

She had noticed that having her own room was very exciting for Lyndy. Living in the loft, they had always shared the space. It wasn't that they had not spent time in the ranch house in the past, but ever since realizing she now had her own room, Lyndy had taken that seriously and even insisted having some privacy to do "her own things" for the first time in her life.

Even though they were now separated by few walls, the doors had usually stayed open so Amy could always have a visual on her daughter, if needed.

"Playing", Lyndy explained.

Amy smiled. That was to be expected. "Oh yeah? Playing with what?" she asked, setting the brush aside for a moment so she could deal with the tangled curls.

"Toys."

Amy chuckled a little. "I see..."

As she began to move her fingers among Lyndy's hair, Amy could feel her joints getting stiff, like they weren't under her control.

Her facial expression quickly changed from an amused to a serious one as she realized she had not done this type of detailed finger work since the accident. While her brain knew exactly what to do, it was as if the information did not reach the tip of her fingers.

In the middle of her trying to figure it out, Amy could hear the noise of the screen door slamming shut and someone's steps in the mudroom echoing through the house.

"Hello?" a voice hollered and after a while Amy recognized it as Jade's. "Anybody home?"

"In here", Amy said back weakly, pulling her fingers out of Lyndy's hair and sighing. She felt agitated. What, she couldn't even braid her little girl's hair now?

After spending a moment of going through the house, Jade found Amy and Lyndy from the bedroom. "Hey, you two."

"Hey", Amy said, trying to hide her frustration. "You looking for Georgie?" she guessed.

"No, you, actually", Jade responded.

"Oh...?" Amy was surprised.

"Or, I mean, yeah, I came to see Georgie", she admitted, "but I already saw her and I'm on my way out, but before I go, I wanted to talk to you."

"Me? Why?" Amy wondered.

"Mommy, hair!" Lyndy ordered her to continue as she wasn't entertained by the two adults talking.

Amy took the brush from the bed and tried to continue the grooming, even though she had not gotten rid of the tangles yet.

"Well, I had the key to the loft, but obviously Georgie lives there now, so she said it was okay for me to keep it", Jade explained. "But I was just wondering, now that you live in the ranch house and if... maybe you want me to continue the babysitting stuff, you might want to give me a spare key to here."

"Oh... uh..." Amy muttered, wondering what to say.

Jade looked at Amy, starting to feel nervous. "I could still use the money and I have lots of free time now and I do like hanging out with Lyndy too, so... I'm available."

"It's not that", Amy said, once she heard the desperation in Jade's voice. "I mean, first of all, we don't have spare keys to the house because we don't keep the doors locked, anyway, but..."

"Oh, right, you're country folk..." Jade recalled, coming from a city herself.

"But the thing is... I don't know if I'm going to be needing a babysitter anymore", Amy admitted, having to come terms with the fact that she probably wasn't able to work with horses like she had been in the past.

"Oh..." Jade let out. "Is it... something I did...?" she asked fearfully.

Amy shook her head. "No, no, absolutely not. It's just..." she continued, then placing the brush on the bed and deciding to be vulnerable with Jade because she was spiraling and it was getting harder to hide it. "Look at this."

She reached out her arms and showed Jade the trembling hands.

Jade stared at them for a minute. "What's happening...?"

"It's the--" Amy swallowed dryly, "the brain damage, I--"

"Mommy, hair!" Lyndy commanded again, not having any clue what was happening behind her back.

Amy continued, feeling her chest tightening. "I can't even really move my fingers--"

"Mommy! Hair!" Lyndy continued her commands.

Jade quickly read into the situation and walked in. "Don't worry, I got it", she said to Amy, swiftly stepping in and taking the brush. "You want braids, Lyndy?" she checked.

"Yes", Lyndy said, getting calmer again after she was being heard. "Fh-renczh braids."

"You got it, kiddo", Jade assured and started to work on her hair.

"I need to get some air", Amy said as she felt like she was about to have a panic attack. She placed one of her hands on her chest and tried to keep herself from passing out.

Jade nodded. "Yeah, don't worry, I got Lyndy. Go."

****

After what felt like an eternity for Amy, but was more like 10 minutes, Lyndy pushed open the screen door and ran outside to play, her little French braids on full display.

Seeing them both made Amy relieved, because Lyndy had gotten what she had wanted, and sad because Amy didn't know if she would ever be able to make her those again.

Jade trailed behind the girl, and as soon as she stepped onto the porch, her eyes fixated on Amy who was sitting on the bench next to the kitchen windows.

"Everything okay in here...?" she asked as she walked closer.

Amy watched as Lyndy ran to get her butterfly net, hoping to catch something from the garden.

"It's-- I'm better", Amy said, even though it wasn't entirely true.

She had thankfully been able to push back her panic attack, yes, but she was still feeling exhausted and more than that, worried for the future.

"Can I sit?" Jade asked. After getting a nod from Amy, she took over the place next to her on the bench, her eyes then fixating on Lyndy. She was back to her babysitting mode, but she also didn't want to pressure Amy with her stare. "You want to talk about it...?"

"I want to, but... I'm afraid once I get going, I'll just... crash", Amy admitted.

"Would that be so bad?" Jade shrugged.

"Yes", Amy said, not wanting to break down right now.

"Okay, so... we then talk about what we can", Jade suggested because she was an expert in falling down and getting back up; it didn't scare her. "How are your hands?"

"They're better now, but... I never really know when that'll happen - or when it stops. I'm starting to think maybe stress makes it a little worse", Amy spoke, squeezing her hands between her lower thighs; that's what she had began to do whenever they were out of control.

"So that started after the accident?" Jade checked, giving Amy an opportunity to expand that. She knew a thing or two about brain damage, being a bronc rider herself, but every situation was different.

"Yeah. It comes and goes. The doctors said it is normal. There are other stuff too that I struggle with, but I feel like this is the worst", Amy said, clearing her throat. "I mean, I know it probably sounds silly, but my hands are my way of... channeling everything."

Jade glanced at her. "No, it doesn't sound silly. I think anyone would struggle with that."

"Yeah, I guess", Amy nodded, "but I'm afraid it'll never go away. I fear..." she began, but felt like she was left breathless.

Her eyes drifted toward the barn and after a painful pause, she glanced down, her shoulders falling dramatically.

While examining her, and adding other things together, Jade felt like she had figured it out.

"You don't need a babysitter, because you don't think you'll be able to work again...?" she presented her assumption.

Amy nodded.

"Have you tried it...? I don't mean anything crazy, but like... getting on a horse, for one?" Jade asked.

"No", Amy shook her head. "It's-- I don't think that's a good idea right now."

Jade nodded. "Okay..."

"How are you?" Amy asked in return.

Jade looked at her. "Me? I'm fine?" she was surprised by the question.

"It's just... I saw a video... well, videos, of the accident and..." Amy began to explain, "I guess in a way, up to this point, I felt like maybe I got the hardest part in all of this, the accident--"

"What are you talking about?! You most definitely did", Jade corrected her. "You were in a coma and everything!"

"Maybe in some ways, yes, but most of it I don't remember. I know the aftermath, I know this", she said, pulling her hand out so she could show the trembling, but it was gone now, "but the moment of impact - I don't really remember it. And that's... easy. I know what happened, but it doesn't haunt me in the same way it might haunt you."

Jade bit her cheek. If she was being honest, it did haunt her. But she was trying to pretend that it didn't - that it shouldn't - because everything was okay now.

"I do still recall it", Jade admitted, "but it's fading out, thankfully. So... I'll be fine."

"That's good", Amy was relieved to hear. "I feel like apologizing to everyone for having to witness that..."

Jade shook her head. "You don't have to."

Amy tried to smile a little, as a way to thank the young woman next to her who had endless understanding for her, no matter how messy things always got.

"I guess watching the videos, hearing that from you..." Amy then continued, "it makes me wonder how much of it Lyndy saw", she said, feeling her throat closing in a little.

The little girl was prancing through the grassy yard, waving the butterfly net around as she was trying to "catch" the sparrows flying in the sky.

Jade thought back to that moment, even though it was mostly just a bundle of chaos.

"I don't think she really saw a lot of it, to be honest. The railing was pretty high at the front row, and we shielded her eyes as soon as the cameras focused on you."

"I kind of want to ask her, but... if she doesn't remember much, then I don't want to scare her with those questions..." Amy shared, then sighing. "No one told me parenting was going to be this complicated..."

"Yeah, I don't envy you", Jade admitted, "but what I do hear is that... maybe now - more than ever - you do actually need a babysitter."

Amy looked at Jade. "But I won't be working for a while", she reminded her.

"Yes, I got that", Jade said. "But that doesn't mean you're not going to work things out, right? -- I mean, tell me this: if you were a horse who had been through an accident, would you just leave yourself into the stall because "you're no use anymore"?" she asked.

Amy didn't even have time to respond, before Jade kept going.

"No, you wouldn't. You would at least try to rehabilitate that horse. So, yeah, maybe that horse wouldn't be jumping anymore or take part of barrel racing competitions or whatever else it did before the accident, but that wouldn't mean that its life would be over. There'd be other opportunities for her out there. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't the end goal here. The real end goal is still out there, you just have to figure out what it is and how to get there."

Amy hummed.

Jade was right. Seeing herself from that point of view helped Amy realize that she couldn't just abandon herself simply because the accident had changed the way she did things. There surely had to be ways to work around the damage that had been done.

She wouldn't give up on a horse, so why would she give up on herself?

"Okay... you have a good point", Amy admitted. "Where did you learn to be such a motivational speaker...?" she teased Jade.

"Mostly from your dad, if you can believe it", Jade said, grinning a little. "Funnily enough, I think working his way back to you and Lou has always been one of the biggest motivations for him. And then later on, he used that experience to remind himself that if he was able to do all that, then he's able to do anything. So, I think it's safety to say that you inspired him - and now I'm trying to inspire you back. You need to find your way back to you too."

It made Amy smile and nod.

Tim was a lot of things for many people - and not all of them good - but he had definitely had his deal of setbacks over his lifetime, and somehow he had always learned to bounce back - or more appropriately, get back in the saddle.

So to take all that into consideration, it was no wonder he had been able to motivate Jade over the years of them working together at the rodeo.

And now, Jade was paying it forward.

It was the good kind of "what goes around comes around" - which was a nice change of phase for Amy.

[foopdeloop]

i love how many of us saw loop and went yea i need that bitch in a dress asap

[katalehs]

i like how “ant” is in quotations like its some sort of common nickname for him but absolutely nobody calls him that

[mochibiscuit]

Silly Pangurs in one scene :3 (Pangur from @pangur-and-grim!!!!!)

[duckchaw]

Day 30 - Love

Double date!

@dbdpromptober

[kxsagi]

“𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬”

a/n: for my pretty @iqxatlantic ❤️🌹

suggestive content inside ����

you didn’t expect him to answer when you knocked. 

not because he was ignoring you, but because you weren’t even sure he was really there anymore. 

you hadn’t seen kaiser in a month. not really. he’d ghosted practice, interviews, friends, everyone. and as much as you tried to reason with yourself that it wasn’t your responsibility, your heart didn’t agree. because even when he pushed you away, you knew something in him was breaking. and you didn’t want to be the last person who gave up on him. 

the door finally creaked open. 

and there he was. 

shirtless to reveal the bit of weight he lost. eyes dark. hair disheveled like he hadn’t touched it in days. 

you forgot how pretty he was beneath all that ego. but now? stripped down and tired? he just looked human. 

“… you,” he said, blinking slowly, voice rasped like he hadn’t spoken aloud in days. 

you offered a weak smile. “hey.” 

he didn’t move. didn’t invite you in. just stared, like he was trying to figure out whether you were real or just another dream his sleep-deprived brain had conjured. 

“i brought food,” you added, lifting the bag slightly. “well, just bread. and tea. that weird brand you said tasted like grass. it’s good for you though and you know it.” 

something flickered in his eyes. a ghost of a smile. he stepped aside wordlessly, letting you in. 

his apartment was dark. blinds drawn. lights off. the only illumination came from the bluish flicker of the TV, paused on a screen you didn’t recognize. 

it was too quiet. even his footsteps didn’t echo. he’d filled every room with silence. 

“you should sit,” you said gently, setting the food on the table. “you look like you’re about to fall over.” 

“i feel like it,” he muttered, voice low, broken. 

you watched him collapse into the bed like gravity had tripled just for him. elbows on knees, hands covering his face. 

“everyone thinks i’m on vacation or something,” he murmured. “like i needed a break.” 

he laughed. it wasn’t a happy sound. “but it’s not that. i just… couldn’t leave. couldn’t move. like the second i stepped outside, it would all come crashing down.” 

you sat beside him. not too close. just enough to be there if he reached out. he didn’t. 

“and inside,” he added, voice quieter, “it’s worse.” 

you were silent. not because you didn’t know what to say, but because you knew sometimes, silence said more. 

“i haven’t slept,” he continued, as if the words had been dammed up inside him, bursting out now. “not really. i close my eyes and it’s just… thoughts. voices. things i should’ve done. said. you.” 

you looked over at him. “me?” 

he dragged a hand through his hair, fingers trembling. “you always made things feel less... heavy. i didn’t even notice it until you left. and now, every room feels too big. every night’s too quiet. i didn’t want you to see me like this.” 

“like what?” you asked softly. 

“like this,” he snapped, motioning to himself – dark circles, empty eyes, a body half-swallowed by a bed he hadn’t moved from in days. “pathetic. weak. all that stuff i never let anyone see.” 

your chest ached. “you think i only cared about the version of you that had it all together?” 

he looked at you like that thought had never even occurred to him. 

you scooted closer, knees brushing his. “you don’t have to pretend with me.” 

his throat bobbed with a swallow. he still didn’t look at you. 

“you always act like being vulnerable means being powerless,” you said. “but look at you, mihya. you’re still here. still breathing. even if you think you’re falling apart.” 

“i am falling apart,” he admitted, finally meeting your eyes. “and i don’t know how to fix it.” 

“you don’t have to fix it alone.” 

he blinked. like that simple sentence hit him harder than anything. 

his hand hovered between you, unsure. so you took it, fingers threading through his. 

for the first time since you’d walked in, you saw something soften in him. like the sharp edges had dulled just enough for you to squeeze through. 

“i kept the mug you gave me,” he said suddenly, voice quiet. 

you tilted your head. “what mug?” 

“the stupid one with the cat dressed like napoleon. i thought it was ugly.” he looked down at your intertwined hands. “but i couldn’t throw it away. it reminded me of you.” 

your lips curved into a smile. “wow. that’s almost romantic.” 

he scoffed lightly, gaze dropping again. “i don’t know how to be romantic. or stable. or... not a mess.” 

“you don’t have to be perfect,” you murmured. “just... don’t push me away.” 

he hesitated, then leaned forward, forehead resting against your shoulder. “i missed you.” 

your hand moved instinctively to his hair, gently combing through it. “i missed you too.” 

the quiet wasn’t heavy anymore. it felt like a shared breath. a soft pause. a promise. 

he let himself fall into you, every inch of him sinking into the warmth he’d been starving for. 

he smelled like sleep deprivation and comfort and something sharp beneath the surface, something that said, i’m trying. i want to be better. 

your fingers never stopped moving through his hair. 

“you don’t have to go yet,” he whispered, almost like a prayer. “just... stay. please.” 

you curled your legs beneath you and leaned your head against his. “i was never planning to leave.” 

and in that moment, against the weight of all the things unsaid, he felt the emptiness inside him shift. like maybe, just maybe, you were filling in the spaces he thought would always stay hollow. 

for a while, neither of you moved. he stayed pressed against your shoulder, like if he let go, the floor might open beneath him. your fingers didn’t stop threading through his hair. the silence wasn’t tense. it was warm. like the static before a storm – soft, charged, inevitable. 

“you know,” you murmured, “you could’ve called. texted. anything.” 

“i didn’t know if i wanted to be seen.” 

you pulled back just enough to look at him. “you mean you didn’t know if i would still want to see you like this.” 

he looked away, shame burning behind his lashes. “yeah.” 

“and?” 

you tilted his chin back to face you. his breath hitched. 

“i want to see you,” you said, voice low, honest. “not the version you polish up for cameras. not the one who pretends nothing ever touches him.” 

his gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes. “... you’re really not gonna run, huh?” 

you leaned in, just a breath apart. “you’d have to do a lot worse to get rid of me.” 

his hand came up slowly, fingers brushing your jaw like he didn’t trust the moment to stay. like it might vanish if he held it too tightly. 

“i thought i was okay being alone,” he whispered. 

“you’re not.” 

“i’m not.” 

and then he kissed you. 

not with the arrogance you’d always associated with him. not with the cocky smirk or the biting charm. no, this kiss was different. raw. desperate. the kind of kiss that says i’m still here, but only because you are, too. 

his hands slid to your waist, holding you like something precious, something breakable. you let him pull you closer, straddling his lap, noses bumping as he kissed you again, deeper this time. it wasn’t about lust, it was about need. 

about making sure this was real. that you were warm and solid in his arms and not something his exhausted mind had created. 

you felt him sigh into your mouth, tension bleeding from his shoulders as your hands found his neck, his jaw, the sharp curve of his cheekbone. 

he pulled back, just slightly. “i’m not good at this.” 

“yes, you are,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “you’re just used to pretending you’re not.” 

he laughed a breathy, half-broken thing, then kissed you again. slower this time. like he wanted to memorize the taste of you. like this was the first time he’d truly let himself feel anything in weeks. 

your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, and when you looked down at him, there was no hesitation in your eyes – just soft, steady affection. 

“can i…?” you asked, voice delicate. 

he nodded. 

you lifted the shirt over his head, letting your palms run over the ridges of muscle and the goosebumps rising in your wake. he didn’t flinch. didn’t cover up. just let you look. let you see. 

you leaned down, lips brushing the skin just above his heart. 

“you’re safe,” you said softly. 

his hands gripped your hips like he was anchoring himself. “then don’t leave me.” 

“i won’t.” 

when he kissed you again, it was different. there was no fear left in it. just warmth and trust and a soft surrender that he’d never allowed anyone else. your mouths moved together in a rhythm that felt like belonging, like finding your way back after being lost in the dark. 

his hands explored slowly, reverently, like he didn’t want to miss a single inch of you. and when you tugged your own shirt over your head, revealing yourself to him, you saw something flicker in his eyes. 

not lust. 

adoration. 

he touched you like he was afraid he’d break you, and you kissed him like he deserved softness, too. 

clothes melted away between kisses and whispered promises. you found yourselves tangled in each other on the couch, your body flush against his, hearts pounding in sync. every movement was unhurried. intentional. like you had all the time in the world to rebuild him piece by piece. 

his lips found your neck, your collarbone, the dip between your ribs. and when he whispered your name against your skin, it wasn’t teasing or playful – it was a prayer. a vow. a quiet thank you for not walking away. 

when you finally came together, it wasn’t frantic or messy – it was grounding. every breath shared, every movement mirrored, every inch of skin pressed together like two puzzle pieces that had always belonged. 

his forehead stayed pressed to yours the entire time. like he didn’t want to lose you in the haze. like you were the one thread keeping him from unraveling. 

after, the world felt still. 

your fingers traced patterns over his bare chest as he lay beneath you, chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm. it was the first time in weeks he looked at peace. 

he reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “you know,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, “it’s still dark in here.” 

you smiled. “yeah. but it doesn’t feel like it anymore.” 

he turned his head to look at you. his lips curved. not into a smirk. not a performance. just a real, quiet smile. “i fall apart too easily.” 

you leaned in and kissed him one more time. “and i’ll keep filling up the empty spaces.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[thatmightyheart]

developed a sudden and urgent fancy for royhavocai

[dailygihun]

day 41 || been a minute since ive drawn these 2 together actually

[mac-ann-cheese]

I saw someone in my reblogs saying that they were yearning for 19th century rusame. Then I shall deliver.

Part 2 to this post!

The above comic was created when I was compiling my notes into a coherent text. On some frames I got reallly lazy, sorry (￣ω￣) the last sketch in the end I initially thought to put in the comic but scrapped it, and just coloured as a bonus.

Once more, I apologize if it was confusing to read the speech bubbles from left to right and vice versa. Just couldn't figure out the better flow of dialogue cause those ( ･ω･)👆fellas were constantly spinning in a circle. It's not because I drew them that way/j

As promised, this one is about Alaska.

I'm not like the other creators, I don't think there was some form of humanization of that region/////highly joking. Okay, now serious. I've read multiple fanfics (who hasn't) about rusameamerus sort of lovechild, but it didn't sit well with me. Don't know why. But, you do you! ＼(￣▽￣)／

Basically, this is it. I interpret Alaska in the hetalia universe settings as no more than just a piece of land.... however. One thing that always confused me is the selective humanization of Japan's prefectures, which opens up a whole other can of worms (they even appear in the Gangsta AU!).. This could mean that all other countries have their corresponding administrative divisions turned into a bunch of people. Or Japan's just special (o˘◡˘o) I tell myself the latter. I remember the good ol' days when citytalia was a thing. Or still is....

Got carried away.

I should say that this post is just history. Not really headcanons.

I will refer to the information from E. H. Zabriskie's "American-Russian Rivalry in the Far East".

Before Alaska was officially colonized, a few random people visited it several times. The first Russians to discover the Alaskan Peninsula from Siberia were the sailors of Semyon Dezhnev’s 1648 expedition. There is an assumption that some of the sailors, after the shipwreck of one of the kochas (sailing and rowing vessels), could have landed on the American coast and founded the first settlement of Kyngovey, which turned out to be unviable (um... Alaskan Roanoke...?). It was discovered for the Old World in 1732 by a Russian expedition led by Mikhail Spiridonovich Gvozdev and Ivan Fedorov. For more than a century, Russian subjects had carried on a lively fur trade in the Alaskan region. Initially, it was developed not by the state, but by private individuals (almost the same as British India). However, starting in 1799, it was developed by a specially established monopoly – the Russian-American Company (RAC), which was given exclusive fishing and trading privileges on the American coast as far south as 51 degrees (half of Canada) north latitude for a period of twenty years. In 1824, seeking favorable relations with the US, Alexander I agreed to the Russo-American Treaty (the first formal agreement between the two countries). In the treaty, Russia limited its claims to lands north of parallel 54°40′ north and also agreed to open Russian ports to US ships entering the Bering Sea.

The company was founded to serve Imperial Russia's economic interests and to compensate for the loss of the Amur under the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689 (i.e., lack of any influence in the Asian region).

And I must say, in no way am I condoning the destruction and impoverishment of Alaska Native people. I'm just stating some facts that one might find interesting.

In the early 19th century, Russia generated revenue from the fur trade in Alaska, but by mid-century, it began to appear that the costs of maintaining and protecting this remote and geopolitically vulnerable territory would outweigh the potential profits.

The purchase of Alaska was the next important step in American-Russian relations. Before the middle of the century, the US had shown occasional interest in the Alaskan territory. Cause there were rumorrssssss about lots and lots of gold, coal, copper, and other vital minerals in Alaska (which were true), and, if they were found, the history of the California gold rush could repeat itself. Therefore, the RAC should lay low.

During the Crimean War, the Russian Empire feared that the Alaskan colonies and merchant fleet would be attacked by British forces located in Canada, so it arranged for the fictitious sale of its ships to the private American-Russian Commercial Company (ARTCC) of San Francisco, which imported ice to California (yeah, it was a thing). The main reason for selling was the remoteness of the land and the inability to defend it in case of an attack. The best solution was to sell it to the Americans to improve diplomatic relations.

Formally, the proposal to sell came from the Russian envoy to Washington, Eduard de Stoeckl, but the initiator of the deal this time was Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich (the younger brother of Alexander II), who first voiced this proposal in the spring of 1857 in a special letter to the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Russia, Alexander Mikhailovich Gorchakov. Gorchakov supported the proposal. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs was limited to studying the issue, and it was decided to postpone its implementation until the expiration of the RAC's privileges in 1861. The issue then temporarily became irrelevant due to the Civil War in the United States. There were also problems with determining the price, sometimes too little, sometimes too much, but in the end, both sides agreed on $7.2 million in 1867. Whatever the motives were that underlay the Alaskan transaction, both powers were well pleased with the bargain. The proceeds from the sale were spent primarily on purchasing resources for Russian railway transport (Transsib).

(those sketches are like a year or more old. So that's why they're a bit wonky. Either way, I wanted to include them)

[radioactvunicorn]

i don't really post my art on here but i'm learning how to do digital art so that's cool ig

[heartlandians]

Filling Empty Spaces (Amy/Mitch), part 252

Mitch and Amy find an unexpected connection due to absent lovers. Set around season 11->.

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this story, so hopefully there won’t be too many grammar errors. ****

Mitch gave Amy a brief summary of what had happened after Tim had received the phone call from the Home earlier today. He went over everything from driving to Okotoks to calling to Casey and having her come eventually to keep Tim company.

He had barely finished before Amy had her phone out and was already trying to reach her father. Mitch remained close, gently caressing the sides of her arms and waiting to see if Tim would pick up.

"He has his phone turned off..." Amy said when the call didn't go through. She looked at the screen, making sure hers was still on and that the problem wasn't actually on her end.

"Or his battery is dead", Mitch suggested.

"Or he's mad at me and doesn't want to answer", Amy sighed, looking devastated. She held onto her phone even though at the same time it felt completely useless to have when it didn't help her to do what she wanted to do.

"Why would he be mad at you?" Mitch challenged as Amy squeezed her cellphone in her hand, trying to channel her frustration into something.

"Because of what you just told me about telling him about us - and because of who he is", Amy said, tilting her head on the side as if to call out Mitch on his obviously silly question.

"Well, yeah, okay, true, but..." Mitch admitted, softly pulling Amy closer. "But his feelings about this - us - are his responsibility to deal with. And to be honest, it's probably not the thing at the top of his mind right now..." he assumed after seeing how upset the man had been on their way to Okotoks to visit Amy's other grandfather.

Amy sighed again. "I guess. But I hate the thought of him feeling like maybe I'm not on his side when he's going through something like this... -- I should probably call Lou..." she then decided, knowing the two had a deep - if not, deeper - connection, and that her sister could take over where she fell short.

"Okay", Mitch then said firmly, trying to stop Amy before she could make any calls. "I understand your worry over your father - and your grandfather - but Tim insisted on having some privacy. He explicitly said he didn't want anyone else there."

Amy's eyes went from her phone to her boyfriend.

"And did that just mean he didn't want you there?" Amy pointed out, and even though it wasn't probably meant as a somewhat rude dig, it still made Mitch feel like Amy had just insulted him to some degree.

But Mitch quickly realized his reaction was just his own projection and brushed it off without giving it more air to breathe.

"I meant that when he got the call, he was trying to reach Casey", Mitch cleared it up, trying not to hurt Amy's feelings, but also wanting to represent what had happened - correctly. "He would have had time to reach out to you on the way there if he had wanted. Both you and Lou."

"But Lou and I are his daughters", Amy pointed out. "We're family. I know we have never really been close with Tim's dad, because it was his decision to keep that part of his life separate, but we could be there for him. Now. We should be there for him."

Mitch inhaled sharply, trying to think how to express this. He was caught in the middle of Tim and Amy, trying to juggle both of their sides.

"But even families have boundaries - or they at least should have boundaries. Just because you're family, doesn't mean they want you involved in everything, all the time."

"But that's what we do in our family", Amy said, sounding almost offended. Maybe Mitch didn't have similar upbringing, but she needed him to understand that this was hers. "That's what family is."

"Pardon me for saying this, but..." Mitch challenged her to think it from another perspective, "isn't that just part of the problem you've been having - we've been having - with your family's involvement when it comes to you - or us...? That they don't respect your boundaries?"

Amy looked back at him, still looking defensive, but Mitch could tell by the silence that followed that something struck a chord in Amy. She looked down, processing it.

"All I'm saying is that if you expect respect, it should work both ways. You should allow Tim to have a say in how he wants this to be dealt with. Based on what you said, he's already made that boundary known years ago", Mitch added, carefully. "If he wanted you there, I'm sure he'd let you know... He's not one to shy away from speaking out."

Amy let out a heavy breath through her lips and turned around. She began to pace a little, and Mitch's eyes followed her.

As she dropped her arms against her sides, it made a noise.

"So... what do I do? Just wait?"

"I guess", Mitch shrugged. He then thought about what he was doing, because all he could do was wait too. "Or... you could come and help me, if you want."

Amy looked at Mitch. "With what?"

"I was planning on bathing the horses", Mitch explained, then gesturing toward the truck. "I just got some things to groom Champ with from the store. -- I can't really help Tim right now, but I can still take good care of his horse while he's at my care."

"Champ's at your place...?" Amy cocked an eyebrow.

Mitch nodded. "We left in such a hurry that we didn't really have time to go to Tim's. My place was nearby, so... Champ's keeping Maverick and Whisky company as we speak."

Amy nodded a little, then letting her gaze move toward the park. "I'm here with Jade and Lyndy; Jade was kind enough to drove us to town for some ice creams."

"Oh..." Mitch let out, looking around to find them with his eyes, but he couldn't see the two. Maybe they were behind the few trees that were blocking some of his view. "Well, then I guess I should let you get back to them", he figured.

"Actually, we just finished our ice creams when I spotted you", Amy shared. "And were planning to get back home soon... but right now, the last thing I want to do is get back home..."

"Everything okay...?" Mitch worried, wondering what would make Amy say that.

"Yeah, it's just... I haven't left the house since the accident and I guess I'm realizing I may be getting a little stir-crazy", Amy said, walking back to Mitch, and put her phone back to her pocket. "Now that I've tasted freedom again, so to speak, I feel so much more... normal. Because even when I'm at home-- and you know I love being at Heartland--" she wanted to add.

"I know", Mitch hurried to confirm.

"There's really not much for me to do there. I'm just... stuck. I can't work, I can't ride, I can't really do normal things I'd do with Lyndy, so I'm just left to overthink about things. But I could really use some unplugging right now. I don't have the coping mechanisms I would usually turn to", Amy poured her heart out.

"Well, if you want, you and Lyndy are welcomed to come and visit me", Mitch offered. "I could offer you some light distraction - and you could help your dad in some way too. -- And at the end of the day, I could drive you both home", he added.

When Amy's lips curved into a soft smile, Mitch felt relieved. Maybe he had not messed this up after all.

"That actually sounds kind of perfect", Amy admitted. "I'll just... I have to go and tell Jade. We also need to get the seat from her car and Lyndy's diaper bag too."

"Yeah, okay", Mitch said. "Do you want me to come with you or wait at the truck?" he asked, pointing toward his truck with his thumb.

Amy was about to tell him to wait at the truck, but she then realized they didn't have a reason to hide anymore. Everyone in her family knew about them, and as for the rest of the town, she didn't care what they thought.

As she thought it over - being official with Mitch - a distantly familiar fluttering began at the pit of her stomach.

Even though it wasn't exactly comparable to driving to a band stand with a motorcycle, this type of excitement over life could be the equivalent to that at this current moment.

This wasn't Calgary, where they could easily blend in and no one would care, this was Hudson, their home town. The streets where so many familiar people roamed and could easily see them together - and start talking.

Amy reached out her hand for Mitch to hold.

"Come with me", she requested.

Mitch looked at the hand at first and then smiled when he realized what it meant.

After joining hands, they began to make their way to see Lyndy and Jade - and show to the world that they were a couple - officially.

[sea-jello]

@l0on HI LOON AFTER YEARSS OF SAYING ILL DRAW YOUR DESIGNS I FINALLY DID IT GRAAHHHGGGG

hey chat TWOO whole aus we’re eating good this week ones on the left are matter of time and one on the right is stay in school go check them out SHOUTOUT LOON 🗣🗣 yk i was originally only gonna do sisk lloyd which is why he got. a little more effort from me dunno what i was doing with the bg lowkey. also i took some creative liberty ihope you dont mind loon but in my experience when you start growing out of your clothes the sleeves are the first thing to go so i chopped em off. canvas looked empty as hell so i doodled mot lloyd in the corner and i am INCAPABLE of leaving it as it is apparently so i colored it. and then i did morro cause im like morally obligated to or something. LOVE me a character design where their hair or clothes or whatever naturally defies physics cause of their abilities. eat that shit up every time. unfortunately that means i cannot make him greasy as fuck the way i know is right and true

without the doodles

I REALIZED TOO LATE I FORGOT HIS STUPID EYE THINGS

closeups while we're at it

[monkiinart]

nostromo doodles

[itadooori]

fuckass gi-hun canvas bc im insanely gihunpilled today

[nyaskitten]

What the helly !!!

[scimagic]

So, darling, if you smell something burning, it's my heart.

To all the very nice comments about Puzzles and I's dynamic (which I appreciate very very much I love you!!), I bring you: the gift of more!!

This is incredibly self-indulgent so bare with me fhdsjka but I kept thinking of this particular trope and how it fits the narrative of Puzzles' horrible actions

I personally adore seeing Mr Puzzles do fucked up shit, I love how evil he is, and I thought 'wouldn't it be hot funny to see him covered in the blood of his crimes'. Then one thing led to another and I realized the same could be applied to Puzzles and the Siren (my big creature form!)

Both indulge in the affection and comfort the other brings despite all the warning signs and just how bloody their hands are. They don't particularly care of said blood smearing their body. So long their partner gives them their unconditional love, they will look past the red to embrace all of them.

I'm sure when you all say dynamic you mean the banter and the silly shenanigans we come up with, but to add to that dynamics list there is that deep infatuation with each other that adores both their redemption and their crimes, their best and their worst, and may even indulge in their worst parts a little too much because— c'mon— who doesn't like to see the love of their life batshit insane and in a murderous rampage from time to time?