#AND LIKE TECHNICALLY it's one of those things it's literally just too much effort to remove from the books right like no one ever DOES IT

[jackals-horny-jail-archive]

devil's week has me rotating thru kinks like wildfire i swear and being on my horny twit is not HELPIN,

[chemicaljacketslut]

i wish i weren’t such a recluse man 😭

[suzukiblu]

Day fourteen of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon comes back before Tim has finished having his internal crisis and immediately makes it worse, because as it turns out the clothes fit and he looks extremely good in cashmere. 

And extremely good in skinny jeans. 

Oh no, Tim thinks with no small amount of dread. A flash of self-consciousness slips across Kon's face, and then he puts on a confident smirk and strikes one of those stupid teen-magazine poses, which he unfortunately makes look very good despite, again, how stupid it is. 

Tim is so far gone, isn’t he. 

“What do you think, man? Is it my color?” Kon asks, smoothing a broad flat palm down over the chest of his sweater. Tim, very desperately, wants to be the person doing that. 

Jesus Christ, no one should be allowed to look like this in cold blood. Especially not in an outfit thrown together in four minutes and fifty-nine seconds. But of course Kon would, the asshole. 

“We should style your hair differently too,” Tim says, trying not to choke and die on how hot this stupid fucking bastard looks in stupid fucking cashmere.

“Why?” Kon asks, looking puzzled. 

“You'd be amazed how different changing your hair up can make you look,” Tim says. And also he desperately wants Kon to let him change his hair for weird, weird reasons that he doesn't want to examine very closely right now.

Later. He'll examine them later. 

Privately. 

“Uh, okay,” Kon says, and does in fact let Tim dig out his hair gel and a comb and re-style his hair. Tim tries not to obsess over having Kon’s hair in his hands and just slicks it back off his face with a little of the gel because that’s the most efficient option, although then he’s reminded of the Kool-Aid incident and Kon standing in front of him in the base in his soaking wet skin-tight suit and raking his rainbow-dripping hair back out of his bright, bright eyes and–

Later. 

Tim is in so much trouble here, he thinks in resignation, and then wonders both why he decided to re-style Kon’s hair himself and why Kon just let him. Why the hell did either of them let that happen? 

He steps back, trying not to think weird things like how Kon probably would’ve tasted like black cherry Kool-Aid and wondering what he might taste like now, and then a much, much worse thing happens to him, because then he meets Kon’s eyes again and realizes Kon just let him dress and style him. Just–everything but his boots, Tim picked out. Gave to him or did for him. That pettable sweater and the tight, fitted jeans and the slicked-back hair all out of the way of those bright, bright eyes and–

Fuck, Tim thinks with far, far too much feeling. 

“There we go,” he says, then reaches out for the shopping bag in Kon’s hand. “Jacket and glasses in here?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Kon says, blinking at him as he lets him take the bag in apparent bewilderment. It occurs to Tim that Kon has probably literally never had someone else carry something for him unless it was something exceptionally fragile or difficult to operate, but he’s committed now and also it’s not like it’s heavy anyway, so . . . yeah, he’s committed now. 

Anyway, having super-strength doesn’t mean Kon has to carry everything. Especially when the bag barely weighs a thing anyway. Tim can swing around Gotham one-armed while carrying a panicking civilian; a shopping bag with a leather jacket and a couple of accessories in it is not exactly an imposition. 

And, well . . . this is a date, technically. So why wouldn't he carry Kon's bag? 

Aside from the doomed effort that is mapping heteronormativity onto a non-heteronormative situation and possibly making Kon feel emasculated or awkward or potentially coming on too strong and–

Kon reddens, just a little, then grins brightly at him. Tim forgets literally every single thought in his head, which is actually a very impressive feat because Tim is usually thinking several layers of thoughts and they're always annoyingly complicated. This situation is more “head empty, stomach doing quadruple-backflips”, though. 

Kon grinning is bad enough when he's not doing it at him, though. 

Tim should've better prepared himself for this, but in his defense, in what possible world would he have been able to predict this situation? Really? What possible one? 

“Smoothie time?” Kon asks. 

“Smoothie time,” Tim agrees, because anything else would require the capacity to actually think straight and that's going to take a few minutes. 

They head across the courtyard towards the smoothie shop. Tim does not succeed in regaining the capacity to think straight because Kon continues to be wearing clothes he bought for him. Clothes he bought and picked out for him, specifically. 

That is . . . a whole thing, apparently. Apparently that's a thing. Suddenly Tim has to reexamine the way he felt every time he gave Steph a Bat-gadget and wish he'd thought to examine those feelings sooner.

Like much, much sooner. 

Tim orders a basic blackberry smoothie that has maybe four ingredients in it, counting the yogurt and almond milk base. Kon orders some ridiculous flavor monstrosity with basically every tropical fruit on the menu, which is the least Gothamite option he could've gone for but therefore not particularly surprising. There's guava in it. Tim doesn't even know what guava tastes like. He's not even sure he'd know what one looked like, if Poison Ivy wasn't a thing. Like–why would he, after all?

Tim pays, obviously. Kon gets a little bit of an odd look on his face again, but doesn’t say anything about it. Well–he thanks him, but nothing else. Tim considers that a good sign, or at least a good start. 

The smoothies come in clear plastic cups, and Tim's is a uniform purple with darker flecks here and there in it. Kon's, on the other hand, looks like a sunrise with a swirly straw stuck in it, because of course it does. Tim doesn’t know what else he should’ve expected, really. 

“Do you think they could’ve fit a few more islands in there?” he asks wryly. “Maybe a peninsula or two?” 

“I mean, it could use some päpipi, probably,” Kon says before taking a sip. Tim has no idea what that is, but is distracted pretending not to pay attention to his mouth. It probably doesn’t work, but Kon’s not always the most observant guy, so it’s . . . fine, probably? Hopefully? “Wanna try it?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” Tim says, because he cannot possibly handle even the implication of putting his mouth on something Kon has put his mouth on. Like, ever. 

Ever. 

“You sure?” Kon asks, grinning slyly around his straw at him. “It’s pretty tasty.” 

Tim is a very, very weak man. 

“Maybe just a sip,” he says.

[theswordwizard]

ai art: both sides

I think a lot of non-artists are also just really and truly not understanding the big picture. I personally could not care less about that cat image, it was fun, whatever, but you are only producing those kinds of images in the sense that an art director "produces" whatever art they are in charge of. They are telling another artist what to do, even guiding them, but they are not considered the artist themselves. Artists who are creating their own art, who are trying to survive off of their work (many of whom have some form of disability, as art is easy to do while sitting down, etc), who are already in the middle of fighting to not just be tossed aside for a product which doesn't even produce the results it claims, are reacting negatively because they are seeing that in parallel with tabling spaces taken up with people presenting generated art as their own illustration, and game devs/producers using it as a way to explicitly avoid paying people for work, while using something that was trained on their work.

"Why do people react so strongly to things possibly being AI art?" If you want to keep it out of the courts, then public opinion matters all the more. It's about a party line that is easily communicable. Most artists are going to be strongly anti-AI because that's the best way to protect themselves than trying to "open a discussion" about it. It's like nurse scabs. We can argue back and forth all day about the intricacies of scabbing for important jobs, but at the end of the day the party line will generally be "scabbing is bad," "we don't like scabs," "scabbing harms workers."

People are trying to compare people getting mad about it to people getting mad about Duchamp's fountain, which just lets me know about their level of art education, and the level of which they like to talk out their ass.

Duchamp's fountain isn't a major point in art history because of the object itself, its because of the STATEMENT. It is because of the placement of the object IN THE GALLERY. It is the equivalent of a political pamphlet, but summed up in a single object that incites discussion around his political statement. It isn't about the object it is about the CONCEPT. We can literally call anything we want "art" if we dedicate ourselves to reframing it and treating it as such, it's just that most non-artists don't even care. They want the label of being an artist without even putting in an effort to. It's like if I wanted to be called a photographer and I wanted people to treat me as such, and so I just made a portfolio of pictures I took off of Pinterest or even a stock photo site, because I've decided that it's the photos I would WANT to take, and thus I can just act like they have anything to do with me.

There have been arguments over much more "similar" things for a long time too. Since the 90s Richard Prince has been taking people's instagram photos, making slight tweaks to avoid copyright, and then printing them large scale and selling them for tens of thousands of dollars. Technically legal, kinda shitty, as he does it without even contacting the (plenty of times, women) original posters. And that's just with selfies people have taken! But I don't see people mentioning that because a lot of people don't like him, and most people arguing to legitimize AI art to be uncontested don't actually care that much about contemporary art. They have zero real interest in being an artist and talking about art to that degree, to have those discussions in a way that isn't validating themselves. Duchamp's fountain in a gallery incites discussion because galleries are places of art discussion. If someone brought a crate of mechanically woven baskets (that they bought from amazon) to a craft fair, people are going to be rightly pissed off. It's about context.

It's also, in my opinion, a similar discussion to the one that was big on twitter not too long ago, where people argued that artists weren't obligated to be able to draw non-white and/or disabled people. Which, sure, but you probably aren't that good of an artist if you don't know how to. And someone going through a portfolio of exclusively white people might go "huh, only white people. interesting." (I even want to include a gotcha here! If an artist has a portfolio of white people, and they have a section talking about their focus being painting their family tree in like, northern Ireland, it's gonna be a totally different story. why, you ask? because there is an underlying concept other than "wow this artist really only likes white people." this is part of the reading comprehension test that will follow.)

And you know what, I'm going to be honest - and this is likely a result of me not being a photographer - but I'm not even really talking all that much about AI photo edits, outside of the large scale implications of what it means that anyone can create a highly realistic image of anything they want (including political figures, female celebrities, you see my pattern here) with zero effort, on a mass scale we've never seen previously. I think they should only be used with stock, and I even think that photographers who upload their works should get additional payments from it. I actually had used a generator back in 2019 for a project, well before this even became a discussion, and it was even featured in a gallery show for a bit! The overall theme was "fake news," so it was a conceptual piece with fake landscape photography that I made with some beta tool. The point was the tool in combination with the tool's result, not how pretty the fake pictures were. I also want to say it was trained a lot more ethically than a lot of the generators that are so popular today.

And this isn't to say that you have to have a gallery or be so fully integrated in a physical art scene or whatever to be able to make conceptual art or talk about it - honestly I think zines that could actually combine whatever your concept is with having room to talk about it, and they're easy to create both physically and digitally and share. maybe just don't have it be around "look at all these pretty pictures that I made with AI." similar to how people at the art book fair aren't going to be impressed with me being like "look at all these pretty pictures I found on Unsplash."

Sure, AI art is "real art," but it's not illustration or photography or whatever, it's conceptual art. Which means it's main goal is to incite thought and discussion about it. Like the D&D book's release that suddenly turned to being about the AI art they used. So if you want to be an artist using primarily AI, go ahead, no one can stop you, but the topic is culturally significant with the current fight between the entertainment unions to protect their livelihoods, so the discussion will be heated.

[daenerysies]

It absolutely gets me that the whole thing about Rhaneyra putting her siblings to the sword was made up by Otto, Rhaenyra did nothing to indicate that she would; Alicent just fixated on it like- how do they forget that they literally pulled that crock of shit out of thin air? 😭

it gets me too, especially show-wise. the only time rhaenyra shows any bit of fire against her siblings is during the driftmark incident, where it is blatantly obvious to anyone with a brain that she was bluffing when asking for aemond to be sharply questioned. granted, should she have done it? no. is she also a mother trying her best to protect her kids? and not being a super uber-perfect person in the process? yes to both. this is yet another change from the book i don't like, considering alicent demands luke's eye in retribution first, and rhaenyra retaliates against that rather than starting it.

i'm also adding some significant points that make no sense in the greater context if alicent truly thought her children's lives were endangered; which is how she actively antagonizes rhaenyra. in both medias. she raises her children to hate rhaenyra, to view their nephews as inferior and subhuman to them due to their blood, she instills fear for their lives as a part of their everyday activities, she tells her children that aegon will be king no matter what (which is treason, so she doesn't seem to care that badly about her children being found out as participants of those efforts). she does not act like someone who believes her children are going to be murdered once rhaenyra ascends the throne. it's why i can't take her stans seriously. none of her actions make sense in the grand scheme of things. she purposefully makes an enemy that is (TO HER) capable of cold-blooded murder. what terrified mother would do that?

there's also this fetish for infantilizing and victimizing alicent and co. otto manipulated her when she was a teen, which is a fair take. otto was also ostracized from court for TEN years. ten years with minimal to no contact with alicent. she is no longer a child during that time, she is a grown woman with four children to raise and a perfectly good brain to use. we're not shown or told once that rhaenyra *ever* showed an ounce of violence towards her siblings, and at most, she was indifferent to them. it is stated, however, that during that time skip alicent bullied and harassed rhaenyra, to the point where she abandoned the capital to have peace of mind and safety for her own children. still not the actions of a terrified mother (she also wasn't manipulated into doing any of that; it was all of her own accord because she hated that rhaenyra was afforded more freedom and leeway than she was).

what's more, there is minimal, if any, precedent that rhaenyra would be forced to kill her siblings to secure the throne. viserys was only the fifth targaryen king, not exactly enough time to really establish any killing family as a basis. maegor is the only one to have done so, and he's reviled for it even up to the current timeline. it is even thought that his death was the consequence of kinslaying. it's not normal. there has technically been some sort of succession crisis for almost all the rulers up to this time: aegon the uncrowned and maegor, rhaena and jaehaerys, baelon and rhaenys, viserys and rhaenys/laenor. there are, once again, many ways for aegon, aemond, and daeron to renounce their claim to the throne (night's watch, kingsguard, maester); but that would take away the power alicent and otto wanted to have, so not an option.

i wouldn't even consider daemon that much of a threat if rhaenyra had ascended peacefully. they've changed his character significantly in the show, but daemon explicitly states in fire and blood that they need to find a peaceful way to end this dispute, and not resort to fighting dragons versus dragons (a line they gave to rhaenys in the show) because it would only end in disaster. he doesn't resort to any brutality until after the first blood is drawn by the green's.

basically, it's just another ploy, a 'red herring' if you will, to distract from the true reason why rhaenyra was usurped (and hook, line, sinker; it's working fantastically for some in the fandom).

[carionto]

Extreme Stress Testing

Human vessels are almost uniformly diverse. This is normal among civilians in most civilizations, but what baffles us is the fact their military craft of all sizes are equally uniquely designed and decorated. Now, we've seen how they love to tinker and attribute personality to their ships, but that's still a process that takes time and effort.

Take their fighter craft for example. Not even a week passes after one is printed and officially tested that it gains a whole new paint job and numerous panels and devices are replaced. After a bit of backroom negotiation in a bar where we politely kept to the only drinks that wouldn't kill us outright - tea. But still not too hot, it's miraculous how Humans can ingest near boiling water and be perfectly fine after a short while.

Anyway, we were allowed to "ghost" how a fairly young Quick Response combat group - Sparrow Swarm 12 - initiated three new fighter pilots and their freshly minted craft.

The Cruiser-Carrier hybrid ship, Hilda's Halberd, ferried the squad plus guests to the outer edges of Sol's Oort Cloud. At these distances, even the Sun is just a slightly larger dot in the pitch black darkness of space. However, wherever civilization goes, light follows, and with a flick of a switch of its powerful flood lights, Hilda's Halberd became the brightest spot for a million kilometers.

What it illuminated, however, was quite a terrifying sight to behold. A graveyard of ships and debris, deliberately left alone by the OCC by request of the military. We became quite worried as we got closer to the field, but thankfully the cruiser-carrier stopped a good few thousand clicks away. Then the fighter squadron launched straight for it.

Thanks to the flood lights we could clearly see the entire spectacle. We wish we couldn't.

The new pilots were bumped, literally physical ship-to-ship contact by the veterans all the way as they approached the, what the captain called - a "race track". It was horrifying all the way there. Sparks and sparkling micro-debris from the now not-so-pristine ships flew off with every bump and crash. And Human ships are bulky, even the smallest ones have much greater mass than normal, so impacts like those would easily destroy most non-Human ships of equivalent scale.

With numerous bruises and "cosmetic" damage!? (we would immediately send any ship in similar condition to be fully repaired and refitted) they arrived at the actual initiation grounds. Then the carnage begins. They're told to make it from one end of the field to the other WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS SHOOTING AT THEM WITH LIVE AMMO!!!

It was beyond terrifying. Even as far as we were from the actual carnage, when Human ships discharge their weapons with intent - Space. Quivers.

It was over in a minute.

All three, now, by all measures anywhere else in the Galaxy, hardened combat veterans, made it. Just. How they were able to maneuver so swiftly and change trajectories without the Human within dying from all the g-forces is beyond us, and how the attackers were able to keep up with their chaotic movements, quite a learning experience for how decisively they would beat us as we are now should we ever become foes.

After everyone was back on Hilda's Halberd, the squad cheered and had a small feast, while the rest of the crew went about as normal and began to make way back to the core of Sol. The next day each of the tattered ships had their pilot and an engineer working on it, talking about all the technical aspects and things like how it "felt when the left wing was shot off and I bumped into an asteroid", and other nightmarish things.

One of the pilots simply smiled as she looked at her ship and then the engineer and said "Dragon horns".

[genericpuff]

In your part 2 of the Mi(n) Season finale, when Persephone is talking about the body having a reaction, I didn't notice it until I was rereading your post again but Hera's shirt is white in one panel and then back to teal in the next??? Pls don't tell me they were so careless they straight up forgor to drag and drop some colour onto her shirt holy shit

this kind of thing happens CONSTANTLY in LO and once you start picking up on it, the more little errors and mishaps like that you find. Half of them I don't even mind too much if they're small or otherwise unnoticeable, but then you get shit like characters getting cut in half or losing limbs and it's just-

literally how do you let this happen in your "#1 NYT bestselling" series LMAO idc if those kinds of awards and labels are technically fake/for show, you should still try and make an effort to at least justify why you got that label in the first place LOL

[jeanbie]

WORDLESS #5 ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: sugar daddy & contract killer au | warnings: implied violence, establishing feelings, mentions/references to john wick & the continental | wc: 6.8k

note: who expected me to actually finish this? (answer: no one) i'm so glad that i got to finish "wordless" and put these two losers in a place they deserve to be in! this chapter is the finale and also almost entirely from levi's pov, and this one flows in a chronological order :)

★ ch1. ch2. ch3. ch4. ch5

⏤ Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Levi over the edge if he hears them again. But maybe he's ready now.

(41) Giving them space when they express wanting to have some time alone.

It’s been a hot second since Levi saw you — and it’s killing him more than he’d care to admit.

Since the blow up in the shower over girls he wasn’t fucking in the first place, Levi hasn’t heard from you, and he hasn’t made much of an effort to reach out either.

Why did he even lie? There was no benefit from telling you he was seeing other girls; the only reason he said that so often was to manage the healthy boundaries between you, to remind you not to get too close, to remind himself that being with you is a risk.

Not that pushing you away has made his life any easier. On the contrary, he thinks it’s made everything worse.

It is almost dehumanising to admit it to himself, but he misses you. Since your rather unconventional first meet — which was a far cry from any ‘meet cute’ that normal situationships had — Levi has been telling himself that the circumstances surrounding you being in his life were unique at best, and that you weren’t permanent.

But now, he lives his life around a ghost of your body, making room for you in his home, making time out of his schedule, making arrangements to keep you happy. 

Okay. Maybe it’s a little bit too late to acknowledge the feelings he has for you. Levi knows they’re there — he’s not an idiot. But making those feelings real is something he just can’t afford to do. Not yet. Not while there’s too much going on in his life.

Still, he stares longingly at the door every night when he staggers back home, as if hoping you might take him by surprise and crawl back into his arms. Not that you do, at least not for a while; not until Levi grows fed up of waiting and finds you first.

But for now, he’ll grant you he space that you need, the space you deserve. And in the meantime, he’ll try and make peace with the waging war in his head.

(42) Holding their hand while walking, even if there isn’t a crowd.

“This is nice.”

The neighbourhood Levi now lives in is much smaller than the last one. It pales in comparison to the condo it took forever to finally move out of, but having consistent security breaches just for a tiring view of the river didn’t feel worth it for Levi anymore. It made no difference to him if the apartment he all but owns for you is much farther away — you’re barely ever there, anyway.

Since putting his angst to rest, and since making it known to you that you’re quite literally the only woman he likes enough to keep buying houses for and invite over, things have been calm between you.

There’s still a strange unspoken thing, the remains of an agreement made out of convenience so long ago, to feed both the lust and pride Levi wanted and the safety you craved; but in general, Levi acknowledges that what he has with you right now feels like the closest thing he’s had to a partner in a long, long time.

Levi looks over at you, feeling your hand tighten in his as you cross a cute little park covered in flowery bushes and beds of tulips. 

“I’m glad my neighbourhood has your stamp of approval,” he replies, tightening his fingers around yours before pulling up slightly to stuff your joined hands into his pocket. Though it’s spring now, there’s still a bite in the air, a chill that Levi is determined to shelter you from.

“Technically,” you start, and Levi can predict, like a robot, what you’ll say next, and mouths the words as they fall from your lips, “it’s mine, too.” Your eyes turn piercing as you scowl at him, “Hey! Don’t…predictive text me.”

“Then stop being so predictable.”

“I think we spend too much time together,” you mutter, looking back at the flowerbed you’re currently passing by.

Levi scoffs to himself and playfully scratches a nail against the hand lodged in his pocket.

“Then go away,” he says. No chance, is what runs through his head, and the coy smile you flash him is as equally predictable as the word he knows you’ll say next, starting with n and ending in o.

(43) Holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them.

Ever since Levi figured out how to share locations, he’s become obsessed with watching you move around on the map on his phone. Numerous times, he’s slipped up on spending hours watching your little circle move, sometimes not even moving at all.

If you had any complaints, he hasn’t heard them, though he very much doubts that you’ll complain in the future now that his stalking has worked out in your favour.

You might have initially thought that bumping into Levi outside the supermarket was a rather delightful coincidence — that was until he moved across the city, and has no real business in your area unless it concerns you.

“Perfect timing,” you say once you see him crossing the small car park in your direction. He has half a mind to pretend he hasn’t seen you and keep walking, but watching you struggle with your shopping is painful enough.

He grunts, reaching for the bag that is squeezing the blood from your fingers. “Don’t get proud about it.”

Sniggering, you happily let Levi grab the overweight bags and fall into an even step beside him. 

“Why do you have so much stuff?” Levi huffs. To be fair, the bags aren’t that heavy, but he can’t see any reason for you to have bought so much considering you live at his house more often than you do your own. “You gonna share this shit?”

“If you want,” you reply. “You paid for it.”

His tongue clicks. Levi hasn’t paid you a penny since he last felt guilty about the fact he rarely paid you, despite that being the very foundation of your relationship in the first place, but even with what he paid you and hasn’t since that point, he knows your bank account is more than comfortable. Paying for all of this has barely made a dent, but that’s what the money’s there for.

He makes his way to his car pulled up outside the car park turning in a layby and struggles in his pocket for his keys.

“I live five minutes away,” you remind him, steps slowing. 

“No, you just said you’d share it, so we're going to mine.”

With a sigh, you’re left with no other choice but to follow him to his car. “You know, the romance of you carrying my bags is lost now you’ve only walked it to the car.”

Before he pops open the boot of the car, he turns to you and sneers, “You want me to walk back and let you do it yourself?”

There’s no argument to be had. You get into the car.

(44) Standing between them and a busy road.

Habits. Levi hates to keep track of how many he’s developed since you entered his life almost two years ago. Time has gone by so quickly since the day he first met you, in the worst way possible, but since then, he’s transformed into a whole new person, a whole new paranoid man who overthinks everything because there’s no other option.

His habits as of late include worrying about you whenever you’re not around — whenever he’s at work, he’ll think of you. Whenever he’s in a different city or country, Levi will obsessively worry over what you might be doing, who might be on your trail, scenting your every move while you’re vulnerable. Another habit includes feeling like an overbearing parent even when he’s in the same five mile radius, but at least he’s self aware of it.

If you’ve noticed Levi becoming more clingy, less like who he swore he’d never change from, you haven’t mentioned it yet. Perhaps a small mercy to save him the mortifying task of admitting that he has feelings stored away for you. 

Today, Levi has fallen victim to his habits of worry and has walked himself all the way to your university just to walk you all the way back home. His home, not yours. In a sense, your home, too. In an unspoken way.

Levi stands waiting for you in the overhang, gaze trained on the thick grey sky until he hears your class file out of the building in a chatter. Sasha is who he sees first, followed by another one of your friends he’s never met but has seen on Instagram once or twice, and then he sees you, looking thankfully in good spirits, and all too beautiful for your own good.

When you see him standing with his hands in his pockets, he allows himself the pleasure of pride when you break away from your friends just to join him, the smile on your face so genuine and radiant that he has to scoff in amusement.

“Hey, you,” you call, falling into his arms. 

“Hey, yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” you confess, pulling away to stare curiously at his withdrawn expression. Levi is already twisting an arm around your waist to walk you down the step and across the lawn. “I told Sasha I’d go to her café and wait for her shift to end. Didn’t you have that thing today?”

“What thing?” he mutters.

“The thing with Erwin. And some deadbeat called George, or something.”

“How many Korean men do you know named George?” Levi deadpans, though his arm does tighten around you in caution. “You shouldn’t even know about that. How do you even know?”

The busy road widens into view as you leave the closed campus. Levi’s pretty much counting the days before you graduate and never have to come here again, and the time is passing strangely slow in that department. It feels like it’s been ages since you enrolled, and he wants nothing more than for you to leave and become the greatest journalist in the world — or whatever it is you even want to do when you’re done. 

As you walk, you lean into Levi’s side, furthering the distance between yourself and the road bustling with cars and buses. He frowns.

One of your habits since the accident on the bridge with your family had been to avoid busy roads, as if convinced something might happen again. You’ve told him numerous times that it’s irrational, but Levi doesn’t think so. It’s a very normal thing to feel afraid of everything, even when those things are a little on the unrealistic side.

Naturally, it results in Levi sliding his arm from around your waist and replacing it with his other one, positioning himself between you and the chaotic lines of commuting cars going home.

His heart flips when you smile at him for it, linking your arm around his while moving your waist out of his grip. Levi tries not to let it get to his head how much you trust him, how much he cares for you. But by the minute, he’s losing the will to keep it hidden.

(45) Rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb.

Back to habits, there are some that Levi has that he’s not particularly as proud of. But, as expected, you’re as good as it gets, and any habit he thinks he might have gotten away with hiding, somehow you pick up on it.

Levi flicks through a blueprint laying flat over his kitchen table, his hands nervously drumming the edge of the tabletop as he tries to memorise the elaborate labyrinth of a building he’ll be breaking into later to find his next hit. Usually, Levi has you at his home before and just after taking a job, just to eliminate the threat of you being hurt as a punishment. 

He wishes that the company gave you unrestricted entry and protection without him being there to clear it, but in order for that privilege, Levi needed to address you as his partner, which just felt like an even larger target on your head. So, he settles for his home, though the worry does not cease.

This building is riddled with passageways and vaults, basement levels with so many access points that studying them feels intense. One wrong recollection could come at the cost of his life, and at the minute, his life has increased in value. Things are finally going right for him, it would be a shame to have it all taken away from him again.

A text from Erwin sounds next to him, and Levi all but glances at the screen to see what’s happening. All assistance available should he need it — he almost sighs with relief at the words.

In the past, Levi had thought he could never work in cohorts with other hitmen, but becoming partners with Erwin and his henchmen has been working in his favour. 

Still, it doesn’t hurt to learn the layout off by heart. So, Levi pours himself over the blueprints and maps, memorising every detail, becoming so engrossed in it that he barely even hears you letting yourself inside of his apartment.

Your shoes hit the wall with a noise that makes him suddenly aware of your arrival, and he glances up to see you peeking into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room for any unfortunate signs of Elio before you approach him.

He notices the street market bag and inhales the smell of spice before looking back at the maps. “Hope you’re gonna share that.”

“Of course,” you reply, offended he even thought you might not. You place the container of tteokbokki on the table before sliding around to his side, eyes glued to the rolls of paper. “Where’s this?”

“Less you know, the better,” he mutters, leaning his head into your mouth as you kiss his jaw. 

For a while, you say nothing, letting Levi memorise what he needs to while you assess the prints for yourself. Eventually, you shift your hand over his and squeeze, making him glance at you sideways. 

You’re looking at him already, though you can’t see his eyes from the way he’s hunched over. Spotting Levi’s signs of anxiety must be incredibly easy, because somehow you’ve caught on, and begin to rub the back of his hand with your thumb, nose pressed into his bicep. 

“Come eat,” you suggest quietly, after a while of basking in the silence with him.

He grunts, a typical Levi sound, and nudges you away. Though, you only shuffle to the drawer to fetch two forks — forks! He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he rounds the table to take one from your fingers. 

“Easier to stab with a fork,” you offer as an explanation.

“If my mother was here to see me eating tteokbokki with a fork, she’d lose her goddamn mind.”

“Well…” You start, trailing off after a moment. You’ve got nothing to say; he’s won the argument just by bringing Kuchel up, and both of you know it.

Scowling, you stab another wedge of tteok and chew it furiously, meanwhile Levi smirks to himself, victorious.

(46) Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

“I need to retire. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“No way. How old are you now, like, twenty eight?”

“…I’m thirty.”

“Best looking thirty year old I’ve ever seen. Roll over, I’ll massage your back, if you want?”

If he ever refuses a massage from you, he’s an idiot.

Levi rolls over ungraciously, hitting the mattress on his stomach with a low groan. He rolls his shoulders, the bones cracking comically loud, and as you shuffle up to straddle his back, he groans again.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not heavy.”

Levi sniggers into the pillow, though as soon as your hands start to work their magic, he moans, the pleasure instantaneous. 

“Make a house back there, if you want. Just don’t stop.”

(47) Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.

“I can’t do it if you’re not here, Levi. You need to get over here.”

“Do you not see that I’m trying?”

“You’re terrible at this game.”

Levi scoffs. He wouldn’t be so terrible if he actually knew how to play properly. His character begins to run in circles without him even asking him to, and Levi growls angrily.

“Fucks sake, this bitch is pissing me off.” Then, he wrangles the controller from your hands as you protest and says, “You be him instead.”

“But I don’t want to be Cody.”

“Me neither.”

As soon as you start moving little Cody around, Levi peers in scrutiny at the controller in your hand and how it so suddenly has stopped drifting on its own. There’s a circular dent in your inner cheek where your tongue is, and Levi scowls in your direction.

“You were sabotaging me,” he accuses, eyes focused back on May as she stumbles around uncoordinatedly.

“I think you’re just really bad,” you reply. Cody is moving fine, and finally, the mechanism moves and the story can progress. Hm.

Levi’s eyes bore into yours as you shift to face him, elbows snug in the blanket bundled around you both. Levi has been laying low for around two weeks now — he’s surprised with just how much he likes not having to work. Though, there have been a few times whilst playing this infuriating game where Levi has wished to be anywhere else. 

“You’re good at a lot of things,” you tell him sincerely, “but just not games. And that’s okay. You tried.”

“I’m good at games,” he replies, offended.

You raise your eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Your animal living game.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“Sure, that too.”

All Levi has ever done on Animal Crossing is make a character and proceed to hit everybody with his fishing net, not to mention dig holes around your front door so you can’t get out. Still, you say nothing — the look of disbelief speaks volumes to Levi and he rolls his eyes, turning back to May as she wanders off to the side of the screen and falls off.

Okay. He’s bad at games. That he’ll admit. But you like it, and by the time he’s gotten the hang of the controls, it’s already four in the morning.

(48) Getting them a coffee just the way they like it.

Remember those habits?

“You remembered!”

If not just to see your smile, Levi likes to bring you one of the expensive bags of coffee from Erwin’s studio. You could quite easily buy the bags yourself, but there’s no thrill in ordering something and having it arrive in due time, not like there is in making Levi steal three at a time as he leaves a meeting or training session.

Levi sets the bags with a loud thud by the coffee machine and hums. 

“And you got me a drink!”

Yes. He has also become a barista and familiarised himself with the exact way you like to drink your coffee. The takeout cup he also borrowed from Erwin is placed down by your laptop as you relentlessly type away at an assignment at Levi’s kitchen table, and he presses a kiss to your temple and mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, already sipping at the steamy contents.

“It’s hot,” he points out. “You’ll only cry when you singe all your taste-buds off.”

“I will not—” You slurp, then hiss, “Ow!”

“I warned you.”

(49) Buying them a special treat when you go out shopping.

You know what? No. Levi has given up on pretending like he doesn’t enjoy you being in his grill all day, every day, which is the reasoning for why he ends up in an expensive jewellery store with Erwin one day after a long haul of inspecting an upcoming raid location.

In all honesty, Levi wants to put his work to rest once the raid is all over. It will be their riskiest ploy to date, and quite frankly, Levi’s tired. He’s been killing people for years, cutting at the humanity he has left, and back in the day he would have been very comfortable with being a monster, killing until he was killed.

But now he had you. Now, Levi had someone to care about, so deeply and so passionately that it often left him feeling sick.

“That’s called love, Levi,” is what Erwin had said when Levi chose the rare option of opening up when he tried to explain why he wanted to retire early. 

“Love,” he scoffed. But then Erwin had said something profoundly wholesome, leaving Levi with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’re not unloveable just because you loved nothing for so long. I know it took you awhile to get back to where you are now, but just because love went wrong once before doesn’t mean it has to again. Besides, almost two years of your bullshit and that woman is still there — I don’t think you need to be worried about her pulling away from you once you tell her how you feel.”

Which roughly translated to: Buy her something nice and quash until you can’t any longer.

Once Levi gets home, he hears you giggling at something and finds you with a book over your face, your legs kicking as you squeal like a goblin. His face twists and he asks, “That book got jokes in it, or something?”

You peer around the spine and look at him. “They kissed. They. Kissed!”

“Who kissed?” Levi makes his way to the couch and takes a seat where you were just lying down. The cushions are warm — you’ve been here a while, and the thought makes him smile. 

“Evangeline and Jacks. It’s all so perfect. I didn't like most of the book, but what matters is that they kissed,” you tell him, a little too excited. You plant your feet in Levi’s lap. “I love love, Levi. It is the greatest. I love books. Men written by women!”

“Why are you giggling over other men in my own house?” 

“I giggle over you when you’re not around, too.”

He hums once from the back of his throat, watching as you mark the page with your bookmark and close the book before crawling into his lap and curling into his arms. He welcomes you instinctively, the blocky shape of the ring he bought in his pocket.

After smooching your lips for a long fifteen minutes, Levi pulls away and reaches for the box. “Got something for you.”

“Ooh, show me!”

He produces the little box and hands it to you, but when your eyes round and you hesitate in taking it, he worries.

“I’m not proposing,” he says quickly.

“Thank god. I was about to be very upset,” you sigh dramatically, finally taking the ring box. “Most unromantic proposal ever.”

“The fact you think I’d be that lousy with a proposal is actually really offensive.”

The genuine grumble in his voice puts a flutter in your stomach, though soon after, it simmers into a cool pit of shock when you flip open the box and see the most delicate, gorgeous ring that you’ve ever seen in your life, not counting ones you ogle in shopfronts.

Cautiously, you lift your head to peer at Levi’s expression. It’s not a proposal — he’s just told you so, and considering you’re not even his girlfriend in official terms yet, it seems unlikely that anything like that will be happening soon. But it has to be more than just an offhanded purchase, and you’re determined to figure out.

Levi’s eyes tremble as he looks between you and the ring. “Is it ugly?”

You immediately shake your head, “Of course not!”

“Put it on, then,” he urges. The steady beat of his heart stutters out of tempo. Suddenly, he feels quite nervous as he watches you take out the ring and study its appearance up close. “Need help?”

“Yeah, it’s so hard, I can’t figure out how to put it on. Needs instructions.”

Levi tuts and gently takes the ring from between your fingers, grabbing your ring finger whilst trying to look as casual as possible. Somehow, he manages to slide the ring on without making a fool of himself, but when he looks back at your face and sees gemstones of your own lining your waterline, he frowns.

“I’m not gonna sit here and give a speech,” he starts. By now, you know him better than that. He’s never opened up about his feelings to you, at least not without feeling regretful of it the morning after, and you nod simply, eyes catching the glint of the diamond. “But you know why I’ve bought it. I don’t need to tell you what you already know.”

And he doesn’t. Somehow, despite Levi being tremendously unromantic, having no manners, and in general being a terrible companion, you at least know that he cares. And with his upcoming job creeping up on you both, it doesn’t require an above-average intelligence to work out why this ring came when it did, what it means if things go south, what it means regardless.

“I know,” you tell him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Instead of saying anything, Levi curls you tighter in his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes when you snuggle your face into his collar and relax. 

His mind has been made, his plans set. As soon as the job is over, he doesn’t want to look back. Only forward, with the woman who has made him feel alive again.

(50) Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

It has been days since Levi told you he’d touched down in New York, working out some stuff in the very famous Continental until he was set to join Erwin on whatever mission they had planned and prepared for. Levi hadn’t told you the details this time because the risks were too high, and now, it feels like a major setback. 

New York is on fire, and Levi barely kept his life getting out of the Silver Sword compound. An entire mob wiped out by two guys with no backup — it was practically unprecedented, unseen or unheard of since John Wick was knocking around. 

The Continental had done everything right in the aftermath, including keeping Levi in their small infirmary for days whilst tending to his excessive wounds. Fuck, he had been so reckless, so vengeful, so stupid. It had almost cost him his life ensuring that no leads followed him and Erwin back to Seoul, and although he had succeeded in destroying every last bit of incriminating evidence, the risks had been too great. 

When Levi finally gets discharged from the infirmary, it is almost eleven in the evening, and New York has finally calmed down and settled in for the night. Erwin greets Levi in the lobby, a frown on his face, holding a destroyed black bundle of phone parts that bear a striking resemblance to Levi’s missing device. He swears.

Levi hasn’t heard from you since he got here. Since the last risky job he took in Gwangju last year, you’ve never been lax while he’s been away; he can almost imagine your fear, your paranoia, and before he can even hear Erwin’s well wishes, Levi’s crossing the lobby for the customer payphone and dialing in your number.

The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Baby?” Levi asks, after three attempts of saying your name and no coherent response. He cranes his head around the curly wire and glares at the clerk, though she looks less than pleased being interrupted by Levi, “Is this a global line?”

“Obviously, sir. It’s a telephone.”

“I fucking know it’s a telephone, but if it’s global, then why the hell isn’t it working?”

The girl gives him grief about his manners and Levi is forced to give up on calling you, slamming down the phone angrily and feeling his body growing hotter and hotter with worry.

He knows you're fine, in his house with the big cat you hate to love, but he knows you. He knows how you operate, how you worry, how you love him too much.

“Look, we’ll catch the first flight we can,” Erwin assures him as soon as Levi has caught his breath and taken a seat on one of the black leather sofas. His hands are shaking violently. “She’s fine. I promise.”

“I know she’s fine,” Levi grumbles.

“Then get a hold of yourself,” sighs Erwin, his frown low and face tired. “There’s nothing you can do but wait. I’ve got people waiting on me, as well, you know.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Dogs miss their owners just as much as girlfriends miss their boyfriends,” Erwin protests, because that’s all he has back home these days.

There had been a time where you had offered to set him up with your friend, Sasha, who deserved to be with a man who could handle her energy but also make her feel safe after her last terrible relationship, but Erwin is basically married to his work, and had got a dog despite Sasha being deathly allergic.

Still, Levi’s not heartless enough to know that Erwin isn’t missed by his dog, and probably other people in his life. And he’s right, there’s nothing he can do about the connection problems. All he can do is reign in his worries and wait.

The earliest flight they can find is the next morning, and Levi spends every second up to that point and up until he pulls up outside of his house in a complete state of panic. Would you be there? Did you leave, thinking he’d never come back? 

Levi abandons his bag and leaves it in the backseat as he sprints from the car up the stairs, past his front door, and into his house. He kicks off his shoes once he’s in, the door hitting the wall with a booming slam.

He hears what he thinks might be scuffles, potentially even Elio’s claws, and right as Levi calls out your name, he sees you round the corner with a blotchy red face and feels his arms stretching out for you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You slam into his chest, almost taking him to the floor, and encircle your arms around his neck so hard that the breath knocks out of his lungs. Still, he isn’t even annoyed; he squeezes you so tightly, tighter than he’s ever hugged anyone before, and shoves his face into your neck, inhaling the smell, feeling the way your body felt in memories while he was away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper, his features tugged in displeasure as you whimper into him, no doubt crying over his shirt. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I thought you were dead!” you blurt, “I even cried on Elio’s back because I thought you had died! What’s the point in having a phone if you never pick it up or charge it?” You snatch yourself from his arms and gently beat against his chest with your fist. “I’m so pissed off at you!”

“I’m sorry that my phone got crushed,” he says, affronted that you would even think he’d ignore your calls on purpose. “I was in a hospital bed for three days! And then the bitchy receptionist got smart with me about their shitty phone, and I called but the line cut out. Sounded like a goddamn robot, I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”

Your jaw drops, “That was you? I thought you’d died and some enemy gang guy was trying to call me to kill me!” Levi has to laugh at the look of worry on your face. He hasn’t been cared for in this way in a long time. Never been loved to this volume. “I unplugged the landline, I was so scared! Jesus Christ, Levi!” Then, like you never left, you rush back into his arms and let out a shaky cry. 

“You did the right thing,” he tells you. Unplugging the landline was the silliest thing he could have ever thought of, but then he realises that you’re still here, and that you made peace with Elio just because you thought he had died.

Levi strokes the back of your head and shushes you, feeling your heartbeat hammering furiously against his chest. His is most likely the same, though he’s not so eager to acknowledge his own feelings.

After a while of standing there, and after Levi’s stroked behind Elio’s ears when he prowls towards them and rubs his head on Levi’s trousers, Levi looks back at you softly and takes everything in.

He has missed you more than anything, grieved the missing piece of his soul that is shaped like you. And, while he’s at it, yes! Fucking hell! He loves you!

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him, and Levi kisses you, his hands cradling your face. The kiss is firm, desperate, though he has no intention of walking you backwards towards the bedroom like he normally does after a job.

Instead, he pulls you in for a hug again. 

“I missed you,” he mutters. “So fucking much.”

“Me too.”

He says with his mouth pressed into your head, “I’m done with this shit. I’m not taking any more jobs.”

You twist out of his arms, eyebrows raised. “Really? Why? You love your job.”

“I hate my job,” Levi confesses. “I have too much to lose. I just wanna live my life. And make it all count for something.”

For a moment, you stand there, looking at his face so intently that he almost feels uncomfortable. But then, as a smile spreads over your face, Levi feels like he can finally breathe again, finally feel like himself.

“Alright. If that’s what you want, babe, then let’s do that.”

And we can do it together.

(51) Getting adjusted.

Levi forgot what it was like to be normal.

He now wakes up at whatever time he wants to, feeling next to him for the lump in the bed where you sleep. Once he knows you’re still there (because despite being retired, he doesn’t think the habit of making sure you’re safe will ever go away), Levi wakes up and starts his day. 

Coffee for one becomes coffee for two. Levi never has to eat breakfast on his own, never sits alone on the sofa or sits in silence at the kitchen table. Levi has lost half of his sink counter space to your belongings, lost half of his wardrobe to your own clothes. There are so many shoes by his front door that it looks like a storefront. 

Elio has a mother, in a strange, estranged, visitation-hours-only kind of way. Levi has made room for you in his life and you fit perfectly, so perfectly that he barely remembers what it ever felt like to live alone.

The shower is always filled with two people. Levi finds your things all over the house in the most bizarre places. He has candles on every coffee table, pictures in frames, finds your cardigans hanging over every chair. But he loves it. He loves it so much. He can’t imagine ever not having it, having you, having this life.

(52) Finally saying the words.

“This is my first time using this thing.”

“What?” you gasp as Levi comes to sit next to you on the balcony.

Elio yawns inside, sleeping on the couch. It is partly his fault that Levi’s out here in the first place, though the thought of being tucked beside you on the outdoor couch in a blanket, watching the sun sink behind the skyline, is thankfully rather appealing, and he voices no complaints.

Levi takes a swig of his whiskey and abandons the cup on the table, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. It’s not exactly cold tonight, but he knows you too well, and knows that within an hour, you’ll be dithering next to him.

“Imagine having a balcony and never using it.”

“I’m using it now,” Levi huffs, pinching your neck. You squeal, “Fuck off, it didn’t hurt.”

You’ve been officially living in Levi’s home for two months now, although sometimes it feels like you’ve always been here. Still, despite you making yourself very much at home on the inside, neither of you have once come out to sit on the balcony, to bask in the lovely sun as it settles for the night, not until today. 

“When’s Erwin coming?”

“Bout an hour or so,” Levi says in a low drawl, his head tilted back and hand massaging the side of your head. It had been your idea to invite a bunch of people over to your house — the house you now shared — and frightfully, Levi hadn’t opposed. It would be nice to share the wealth of simply being alive with people he now had the patience to care about. 

You shuffle to look at him, and Levi picks up his head at the sound of you moving. Like always, Levi thinks you look beautiful, but since he’s made you his girlfriend, it has felt like every time he looks at you, he can’t breathe properly.

“I’m excited. This is our first time hosting a party together,” you grin, while Levi thumbs your ear and smiles. “Do you think Elio will eat Erwin’s dog?”

“No. Elio’s moved back onto a pescatarian diet, so I think Erwin’s mutt will be safe.”

“Good. I bought him a bone, do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’s a dog. Yes, I expect, why are you asking me this?” Levi asks, eyebrows scrunched, though he pulls you close to where his mouth is and kisses you straight on the lips. “Stop stressing.”

“I can’t help it. I’m nervous! It’s all so serious! What if nobody likes our house?”

He shrugs. “I don’t give a shit who does or doesn’t like our house. It’s ours.”

“Hnnngh. And I want you to have a good time!” you whine. “You deserve a bit of fun in your life.”

“My life is always fun now that you’re my girlfriend.”

He’s instantly won himself brownie points by saying that.

“Just tell me if it gets too much,” you mutter, lips on his, mouths together. “Okay?”

Levi hums. “Yeah.” Then, after he’s kissed you three more times and felt his heart shake, he nudges his nose against yours and says, “I love you, y’know that, right?”

You pause, eyes rounding wide as you take in the sight of him. Levi has never said those words before, not explicitly. But now is as good a time as any, right?

Levi has spent far too much of his life withdrawing from his emotions, hiding away from what matters most out of a fear of caring too much. In the past, he had cared too much and lost it all. You were never supposed to be something he cared about, but when it had happened, it happened so fast he hadn’t had the time to make sense of it all.

But now, now that he’s been through it all with you, ticked every box imaginable, become comfortable being vulnerable again, Levi thinks he’s finally ready to accept the love he deserves and dole it out to those who mean the most to him.

Your mouth moves against his, though he can’t understand the words coming out. He laughs, confused, and somehow manages to pull away and ask, “What’re you even saying?”

All for you to blubber out in a laugh, “I’ve been waiting for ages for you to say that!”

His heart bursts, chest soars. “You could have said it first.”

“I’ve said it before,” you protest, “in actions.”

He scoffs, “So have I.”

And he has, you really can’t deny it.

“Say it again, won’t you?” you ask sweetly, kissing the corner of his mouth, and Levi sighs, like asking that of him is simply too much.

“I love you. You make me very happy.” Levi groans when you cackle and squish the breath out of him with a hug, but this time, he sniggers too. Why waste the moment on pretending to be indifferent when he’s actually the happiest he’s ever been?

Levi Ackerman can finally say that he feels good. He feels safe, he feels content, he feels comfortable — and most of all, he feels loved. And in love. And totally at peace in the world with the person who makes him the happiest.

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part IX: horseshoe overlook v

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

summary: Three days after watching Arthur fall, three days of grief, three days of regret, and it all comes crashing down on you in one bittersweet moment.

a/n: here we are fellas... a much awaited chapter, technically the second half of last chapter. Star waits three days at the bank of the river... and so I've made you wait three days too. I want to say a few things so if you're sticking around to read the notes buckle up. Firstly I could absolutely not have done this chapter without Margo (linked below). She literally held my hand through writing this lol, and offered me more support, kindness, and praise than I deserve. She gave me so many tips and ideas and suggestions for this and I'm just so proud of the way it turned out, thanks to her. This was a group effort for sure. Secondly, I'm still in shock from the level of support this series has been getting. Its just incredible to see how many people come back so consistently. Last but not least, I love you guys, really I do. And I can't wait to see what you guys have to say about this chapter.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, violence

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

It's been three days, searching the banks, knowing that he won't be back, won't be coming home. You saw him hit the water, and he didn't come back up. A fall like that is barely survivable. You know he's gone and it isn't until you allow yourself to think it that you break. All that you should have told him, should have opened up about and you didn't. You didn't. And now Arthur will never know any of it.

Arthur is gone, and he left thinking that you didn’t want him. You hate yourself, for your inability to open up and you hate him for this whole job. You told him you didn’t feel right about it but no one listened. Now he's gone and you're so mad, so angry with the world and your heart and him. 

It's pouring, thundering and lightning in the dark night and you've started to accept that he isn't coming back. In your head you know it, it's all you've thought about. You know he's gone, he's never returning to you, but your anger keeps you from returning to camp because what is the gang to you without Arthur? Can you really go back there and live with his ghost?

The rain pounds down on the top of your tent, falling down and drenching the ground. Lightning lights up the night, showcasing to you the dark, empty lake. John had come by a day ago, and when you realized he was alone your heart shattered all over again. It's a strange thing, you realize, to love someone but never have the courage to admit it until it's too late. Thinking back, you know you loved Arthur, it's obvious, but you couldn't admit it at the time. It took losing him to realize how much you need him. You don't know who you are, here now, without him. You belong nowhere, you have nothing, you want nothing other than him. 

You think about going up north, up to West Elizabeth for a while, but you can't bring yourself to leave the shore just in case. You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. You've been sitting in this tent at night haunted by ghosts and regrets, and surveying the lake in the day, futile as it may be. You know you need to do something, to go somewhere other than this damn shore, but you're lost. Your head tells you to run, but your heart tells you to go back to those who care about you. 

Arthur cared about you. And it's sick, and it's twisted but you're so mad at him for your feelings, so mad that he cared about you so much because it made losing him that much harder. 

Lost in thought, you don't even hear the footsteps as they approach the tent, nor do you hear Balius's quiet nicker. The rain doesn't help, coming down along with thunder that shakes the ground. You don't even notice his presence until he speaks up. 

"Star?" 

Everything stops. Your eyes go wide, and immediately fill with tears at the familiar, gravelly voice that you haven't been able to get out of your head for three days. At first you're sure you're imagining it, losing your mind, until he speaks up again. 

"Star? Y'in there?" He asks again, and too shocked and confused to speak, you crawl out of the tent. Your eyes land on him as you stand in the rain and you freeze, mouth agape. He looks…  he looks fine. And you take a step back as the emotion of it all comes crashing down. At first you're shocked and confused, and then you're relieved… and then you're mad. Because you spent three days thinking he was dead, and he's standing in front of you washed up in a brand new outfit with a smile on his face. The rain soaks in your clothes, drenching you as you try to breathe. 

"Where have you been?!" You cry out, full of emotion and fear and rage. Arthur sees it all playing out on your face, and his eyebrows draw together. 

"What-" He begins but you interrupt him.

"Why are you walking up here  like everythings just fine? Where were you?!" You half cry- half hiss, thinking of all the time you'd spent scanning the water, waiting for his body to wash up. 

"Swam down the river and hid out for a couple days till the bounty hunters lost me." Arthur sighs like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "What's the matter wit you?" 

Arthur isn't used to having someone to return to. No one asks or complains if Arthur comes back late from a job, he's never had anyone care so much as to worry for him like this- he's just not used to it.

You huff, a humorless, sarcastic laugh. 

"So you were just hidin' out?" You ask as a loud boom of thunder shakes the ground. 

"Yeah." Arthur huffs, irritated with your attitude. Your tone is angry, condescending and sarcastic as you continue on. Tears fill your eyes, but he can't see them in the dark.

"Well, I'm glad you've been safe all this time." You reach into your tent grabbing his hat before throwing it towards him angrily. "Here's your damn hat. Found it washed up in the river after you fell. Y'know, it would have been nice if you let me know- If you let me know you were just camping, taking a few days off while I've been here!" You yell, fighting back sobs, watching as he grips his soaked hat, growing more confused. 

"Star- what is your problem?" 

"It doesn't even matter." You toss your hands in the air, chuckling humorlessly. Your hair is soaked through, and Arthur glances to the sky as it lights up with bright white lightning. 

"Clearly it does matter! Ain't my fault you can't express your damn feelings!" He yells, growing angry alongside you. 

"Oh, that is rich coming from you. Like you can?!" You immediately bite back, voice growing louder as you step closer to him. 

"Yeah! I can, with you! I told you about my past, about my son and my parents and Mary! And I know nothing- I know nothing about you- what you want, where you've been." Arthur yells louder than the thunder, pointing his finger in your face as he does so, "You won’t open up and it's killing you. God- what are you so afraid of?! What's holdin’ you back? It's eating at you and you won't just deal with it SO WHAT IN THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLE-" 

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" You yell, stepping forward with your shoulders squared, meeting him with just as much aggression. You're so angry with him, for the train and for coming back like nothing happened. Your anger gets the better of you as you lean forward, hands pressed against his chest and you shove him backwards with all the fire you can muster, growling as you do. He stumbles backwards, eyebrows drawn together as you ball your fists, ready to scream at him, to berate him for leaving you out here. But at the thought, something in your heart cracks, and the fire and the rage pales in comparison to the fear of losing him. 

A loud boom of lightning sounds out, and Arthur prepares for your inevitable verbal knives with his eyes cast on the ground, but you never throw them. 

When he looks back up, your shoulders are rising up and down heavily, and your finger points at him like you're about to chastise him, but you don't. He watches as your shoulders slump slightly, and he sees the way your hand, pointed at him, falters. Glancing up to your eyes, he sees that you're fighting back tears, and biting down on your lip to stop it from trembling. 

Exhausted, and terrified and hurting, you can't find it within you anymore to yell. In fact your voice is barely above a whisper as you meet his green eyes, 

"I spent days thinking you were dead… Do you have any idea what that was like?"  

Arthur sees the moment that you break. He watches as your face crumples, and he sees the pain that you've been going through. God, he didn't even think. He didn't even think. You crumple, erupting into quiet sobs as you hold your face in your hands. In two strides his arms are around you, and you sink into his touch, letting all of the pain and the grief be washed away by the rain.

"I'm so sorry, Star. Shit, I'm so sorry. I'm here. It's okay." He coos, protecting you from the rain with his warmth as you sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him to make sure he's really here. 

"John had to pry me away from that bridge…" You choke out, "I thought you were dead and I can't- I can't lose you, please, please don't leave me-" You whimper, feeling more vulnerable than you ever have in your life, but knowing that you trust Arthur with every fiber of your being to be the one to piece you back together. At your words, Arthur's heart shatters, falling to the ground in fragmented pieces along with your own that had fallen apart three days ago. Even with the rain, lightning and the pitch black, he cups your cheeks, pulling your teary eyed gaze up to him. 

"Look at me. You aren't alone- look at me, Star- I'm not going anywhere." 

And looking into his eyes, seeing him here, you know it's a promise he intends to keep. He's in front of you, he's safe, and having him here is too much and not enough all at once. He's scanning your eyes, searching for something to signal that you're going to be okay, and that's when it happens. With his hands resting on your face, and his eyes searching yours, you lean up on your toes, and you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have in you, ignoring the storm and the pain in your heart. You thought you'd never have the chance to do this. And with him here in front of you, you need him to know that you want him too. You've repressed so much love and so much emotion, and now that he's here in front of you, you can't help but feel it all. 

He's shocked at first, eyes open and lips slack until he catches up and leans back into you with just as much emotion. His eyes slip shut, and you curl your hands into his shirt, opening your mouth for him to gain entrance. Your tears slip down your cheeks, mixing in with your lips. It's hungry and raw and filled with the emotion of you terrified of losing him, and needing him in every way possible now that he's here.

You pull away to catch your breath, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look up to him, making sure once again he's still here. He smiles down at you, wiping your cheek with his thumb, smearing the rain and the tears away. And then you're pulling him back down to you, kissing him again with the same hunger, and he kisses you back. His hands grip onto your waist and he pulls you against him as your lips slot against each other. It's him who breaks the kiss this time, and he looks down to your eyes, his green irises searching yours and seeing the intention in your gaze.

"You sure you want this?" He asks you, rain soaking his hair and causing a piece to hang down in front of his face. 

"Stop talking." You whisper, barely a breath as you run your fingers through his hair before leaning up to kiss him again. Your hands grip onto him, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue mixes with yours. You need more, you need him. You need to know he's with you. 

Arthur seems to read your mind, hands grabbing the underside of your thighs as he pulls you up against him, carrying you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you only break the kiss momentarily as he carries you into the tent. He lays you down on the soft blankets, taking a moment to admire you laid before him in the lantern light. Then he lines your body, leaning over you on his forearms as the storm rages on outside. His lips are on you again, in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where your pulse beats erratically. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and as he kisses you, his left hand unbuttons your shirt. 

"You done this before?" Arthur asks, pressing messy kisses to your jawline. He remembers your conversation up in the Grizzlies, and he's almost certain this is new for you. You shake your head. 

"No." You admit. You're no saint, but you've never trusted anyone enough to go this far, not before Arthur at least. 

He exhales, nodding, but he seems hesitant, his hands slowing on your buttons. You grip either side of face, pulling his attention to you.

"I want it to be you. I need it to be you." You admit, whining as he groans, nodding. He leans back, sitting up in between your legs to shed his clothes. You help, pulling his shirt off of him quickly once the buttons are undone. He's left in just his jeans then, but you stop him from taking them off. You pull him down back over top of you, and he obliges, though a bit confused. 

"Kiss me." You plead, and he does. He kisses your lips over and over again, he kisses your neck and your jaw and your forehead while you get used to everything. He wants to do right by you, he wants to do this your way. 

You reach your hand down between your bodies as Arthur pops the last button to your shirt. You line your hand along the bulge in his jeans, and you press against it, eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. You smirk, popping the button of his jeans before slipping your hand inside. You wrap your hand around his shaft, feeling how much he wants you. 

It's overwhelming, all the feelings he gives you. In every way. He's perfect. Warm and loving, and his tan skin is kissed with freckles all over and he's so beautiful it makes your heart ache.

"I'm ready, but I don't know- How do we do this?" You whisper against Arthur's ear. You're letting him take control, and he nods, kissing your lips softly. 

"Let me take care of you, let me be strong for you." He whispers, pulling your shirt over your shoulders and kissing your collarbone until there is a mark.  Then he leans down, pulling your dark jeans down over your legs by the waistband, leaving you fully exposed. Once your denims hit the discarded pile of clothes, Arthur leans back, smiling down at you. You can't find it within you to be self conscious, not with the way he's looking at you. You lean up on your elbows, watching him drink you in as he leans up to grip onto your hand. 

"You're so beautiful…" He mumbles, eyes trailing up your figure lovingly. He squeezes your hand, and leans down to your right thigh where a messy scar lies, the gunshot wound from Blackwater. He kisses the scarred skin. 

"N' so strong." He whispers, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.  Leaning up to meet him, you crash your lips against his own, trying to shove his jeans down off his form. He chuckles, leaning back to shed the denim. Now both fully undressed, he stops, looking over you again. Your wet hair is sprawled out on the blankets, lips plump from where he's kissed them. He's sure you're the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"Arthur-" You whimper, pulling him back down to you by his hand. He takes his time warming you up. There's no rush, and you're so glad to just be together. 

He places kisses down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, and you chuckle, fingers intertwining into his hair as you pull him back up to your lips. 

"Arthur?" You breathe out. 

"Hmm?" 

"Touch me." You plead, spreading your legs for Arthur. He smiles, running a finger down your thigh as he leans in to kiss your neck. You gasp, feeling his fingers brush against your core. He stops, groaning when he feels how wet you are, the sound cathartic. Then once you wrap your legs around his waist, he resumes his pace. His thumb gently rubs around the small bundle of nerves at your core, and you gasp, gripping onto his shoulders as he continues to kiss your neck. Then as his thumb continues, his middle finger stretches into your tight heat, and your nails dig even deeper into his shoulders. 

"Please, just-" You beg, but he stops you, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

"Sweetheart, I gotta take my time. I don't wanna hurt you." He says, and you nod, trusting him. He works his finger in you for a while, curling it up and coaxing little gasps from you. Then, he stretches a second finger into you, and you wince from the pull, but after a while of him working you, it starts to feel good. And shortly you're breathing quickly, ready. 

"Perfect." Arthur whispers, sliding his fingers out of you while he presses a kiss to your forehead. His arms flex on either side of your head as he holds himself up, and your legs wrap around his waist as he lines himself up. 

"You ready?" 

"Yes, yes-" You mumble. 

You feel the tip of his length against your entrance, and you spread your legs even further for him. And then he's sliding in, slowly. You gasp loudly, gripping onto him tightly as he thrusts in, slow as to not hurt you. 

"S'it hurt? You okay?" Arthur asks, stilling as you toss your head back and pant. 

"No- yes-?" You whimper, acclimating to the feeling. You nod, signaling him to continue as the thunder rumbles outside, not nearly as loud as your gasping breaths.

"Oh, Arthur-" You moan as he slides into the hilt, and bumps into your sweet spot. He slides back out partially, and then picks up a slow, steady rhythm. Your body arches beneath him, and you moan, pulling his face down to yours in search of his lips, tears coming in rivulets. He kisses you again, giving you butterflies as he thrusts in and out of you. You grant him access to your mouth then, and when he pulls away to breathe, still thrusting steadily, you whimper, tears running down your cheeks. 

"Star?" Arthur asks, worried. And he stills his movements. 

"No- don't stop." You beg, pulling his head down into your chest as he resumes his movements. 

"I'm so glad you're okay Arthur." You cry, shaking against him as you hold his head against you. 

His lips are on yours then, reminding you that he is here with you, safe, loving you. 

"I'm right here, darlin'." He reassures, and you nod against him, biting your lip. You can't help the moans that you start to let out, timed with every one of Arthur's thrusts. He runs his thumb over your hard nipple, teasing it and giving you goosebumps. You don't have to worry about the noise, as there is no one to hear you but the raging storm outside. The power of the black clouds, bright lightning and pounding of rain pale in comparison to the crashing together of you and Arthur. Your moans seem to encourage Arthur, and he begins to thrust even harder into you, kissing you in between his movements. You can't keep your hands off of him, running them from his face, pulling his lips to yours or digging them into his shoulders as you gasp and moan. 

He feels the same way, gripping your hips, kissing your breasts, and your lips and your neck it's almost too much. You feel yourself approaching an orgasm quickly, but you fight it, clamping down on yourself in an attempt to slow the process. You don't want this moment to end, you could stay here forever with him, and never have to worry about anything else. But your abdomen clenches and you feel your nerves begin to tingle. Arthur isn't oblivious to this, and he runs his thumb over your sensitive bud, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Star, let go." He whispers, lightly biting your earlobe. You shake your head, gripping his shoulders as tight as you can manage. .

"No." You argue, squinting your eyes shut and shaking your head, thighs clamping around him as you try to stop the inevitable. 

"Darlin, let go. I told you, I'm not goin' anywhere." He whispers again, and you release, automatically setting off the intense waves of pleasure that crash down over you. You set Arthur over the edge, constricting around him and your moans fill the tent as you arch your back, pulling his lips down to yours. You moan into his mouth, hips rocking against his own as you climax, feeling so close to him and so intimate and vulnerable. You never knew it could be such a beautiful thing. 

He begins to groan loudly in your ear, and you pull him down to you as you continue to rock and moan against him. Your grip on him tightens, and you're not sure whether or not he's planning on pulling out, but you don't want him to. You need him with you. Your legs wrap even tighter around him and he gets the message. A few stuttering breaths later and Arthur groans, grinding his hips against you as he finishes in you, lips pressing kisses to your own between heavy groans and breaths. 

His forehead falls against yours, resting there as he catches his breath. You do too, still clinging to him in every way possible. After a few moments, he presses a slow kiss to your forehead, and then slides out of you. You wince from the pull, but once he lies down on the blankets beside you, he pulls you into the crook of his arm and covers you with the blanket. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by his heart beat after the past three days. 

"You okay?" Arthur asks, running his hand up and down your back over the blanket. You nod, truthfully. 

"I think I'm better than I've been in a long time." You admit. Arthur leans up on his elbow, grabbing your canteen from his side of the tent. 

"Here." He offers you the water, and you take it willingly, sipping down some of the cool liquid before handing it back to him.

You cuddle down against his chest again, hand sprawled out on his stomach as he looks up at the ceiling, thinking. 

"We gotta talk about this. Please, don't close up again, not now." Arthur says, worried that come morning you'll close yourself off again. You nod. Truly, you have no intention of hiding anymore, not after tonight. But for now you don't want to talk, you just want to be with him.

"In the morning?" You ask, tucking yourself into his side, yawning. 

"Yeah, in the morning." He whispers, and you lean up, pressing one last, slow kiss to his lips. He chuckles as you toss your leg over his, formed tightly against him. 

"Arthur?" You ask, not meeting his eyes. 

"Hmm?" He asks, hand still running up and down your back while the other holds yours tightly. 

"I'm so glad you're okay." You say again, a tear falling down your cheek and getting lost against his chest hair. You draw stars on his bare skin, distracting yourself as he wraps the blanket tighter around you both, protecting you from the thunder outside. 

"I know, sweetheart. S'alright now, you just get some sleep."

Everything seems to make sense now, like it's finally fallen into place. You grip onto his hand, holding it as you start to drift off to sleep. You're his grief, his joy, everything he desires and loves. And you feel the same about him. You've denied yourself this for so long, that finally having it happened in one big collision. You wouldn't change it, lying here with him now. You know you have to talk about this, and you have to get Arthur back to camp, but it's all a problem for tomorrow. Right now it is about the two of you, just existing together for the first time.  

— — — — 

When you begin to wake up, it takes you a few moments to come to your surroundings. Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes squinting to block out the harsh sunlight that is filtering through the tent flap. There is a strong, steady warmth underneath you, and realizing your surroundings, you smile. Your head is laying on Arthur’s chest, legs still intertwined and hands still locked together under the blankets from the night before. Arthur's other hand runs soothingly up and down your bare back, and you prop your chin on his chest to look at him.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, voice deep and groggy. 

"Real good." You hum, telling the truth. You've slept in the same bed as Arthur on a handful of occasions, but you've never been able to do so as openly as now. You've never woken up so content before, even with the residual ache in your hips. It's a good ache, a reminder of where Arthur had touched you, binded his body to yours in the most intimate of ways.

"I'm sorry that I just… jumped you last night." You whisper with a chuckle, fingers running down Arthur's chest, tracing through the sandy blonde hair there. 

"Do you regret it?" Arthur asks, looking down at you sprawled over his chest. Immediately, you shake your head.

"No. Not at all." You say truthfully. Even though the circumstances around your crashing together were less than ideal, you don't regret it even for a moment.

"Good." Arthur hums, smiling down at you. 

It grows quiet for a while, comfortably so. You listen to the birds and the river, but mostly Arthur's steady breathing, and you realize that you could lie here with him forever. You thought you'd lost him, and now that he's here, you can't bring yourself to let go for fear that he will disappear again. At the thought, you realize that you've not discussed what happens now, and a question forms on your lips. Your hand is still intertwined with Arthur's, and you play with his fingers as you speak up. 

"I reckon I already know the answer to this… but this was more than just sex right?" You ask, a little nervous. You're almost certain this is an emotional commitment, but your anxiety still prods at you. Arthur cracks a smile, bringing your wrist up to his lips before tenderly kissing the point where your pulse beats.

"Yes," He laces his fingers back with your own, "I'm all yours darlin', if you'll have me."

"Always." You whisper, ear pressed against his chest. The rhythmic pounding of his heart is a sound you can't get enough of as you slip your eyes closed, still reassuring yourself that he's here. 

"We gotta head back soon," You sigh, "I know John is worried sick. I'm sure everyone else is too." You whisper, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest for keeping John in the dark while you'd kept Arthur to yourself all night. 

"Just a few more minutes." Arthur counters, wrapping his arms around your waist. His thumb glides over your lower back, and you look up to see him lost in his head again. 

"Why did you stay out here? Why didn't you go back to camp with the others?" Arthur asks, propping his hand under his head to look at you. 

"How could I have left you? I didn't know if you were alive, I didn't think you were, god- that fall… but the thought of you hurt somewhere, or needing help, I couldn't just leave." You whisper, emotion bubbling up again at the thought of his fall. You don't bother to hide it anymore, even though your nature wants you to. 

"I can't stop seeing it, Arthur. I've never been that scared in my life." You admit. 

"It was a hell of a fall, I'll tell you that. Hurt like hell hittin' the water too. I didn't even know if I was alive, the water turned me around real bad and then I was on the shore of the Upper Montana River." He explains, eyes lost in the memory, "Hid out for a while and I heard the law whistles so I stole a horse n' ran to Strawberry. I was so worried about you… I didn't see you get away." 

"Cause I didn't." You whisper, "John had to pull me away from the bridge. Athena carried me here and I sat in the grass the rest of the night just… waiting for you," You take a deep breath, a loose tear slipping down your cheek, "and then your hat washed up, and I was sure you weren't coming back."

You can't shake it. Every time you bring up the bridge it all comes rushing back. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't come back to you." Arthur hums, feeling terribly guilty as he sits up in the tent. You sit up next to him, pulling a blanket around your shoulders to cover your breasts. 

"Well, you're here now." You whisper, teary eyes looking into his. He shakes his head, and you see the regret in his eyes. 

"I shouldn't have called you a hypocrite. That was unfair of me." Arthur says, and your hand reaches up to his cheek, running through the thick stubble there. 

"No, you were right. That's somethin' I've thought about a lot the past few days, somethin' I plan on workin' on." You say, "And, Arthur, I shouldn't have gone through your journal."

Arthur huffs, humorously. 

"S'all you anyway." Arthur admits, and your eyebrows pull together, not understanding. 

"My journal. It's all you." He reiterates and you smirk. 

And then he's pulling you into his lap, unable to keep his hands off you now that he's able to touch you like this. 

"We have to go." You chuckle as Arthur runs his thumb over the purple splotches on your collarbone. His lips are on your jawline in a heartbeat, pressing slow, languid kisses to it. 

"They can wait." He whispers against your skin, thumbs gripping onto your bare hips as the blanket slips down from your shoulders. You lean into his kisses, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, something you've denied yourself for so long. 

Your stomach grumbles lightly, and Arthur slowly leans back, raising an eyebrow at you. 

"You eaten anything?" He asks, and you sigh. 

"No." You admit, sighing as he slides you down off of his lap. 

"C'mon, let me make you breakfast." 

"Didn't think you were the type; cookin' a girl breakfast the morning after." You chuckle as Arthur starts plucking your wet clothes up off the floor, tossing them in a useless heap. 

"Yeah, well… only for you." Arthur huffs, grabbing your saddlebag from his side of the tent.

"You got any other clothes? These are drenched from the rain." Arthur asks, nodding to your outfit from last night. You nod, searching through the bag until you find a decent outfit. You grab a pair of black jeans and a white long sleeved shirt and you pair it with a tight black vest and a choker-style neckerchief, it's a damn cute outfit. 

“Alright, go on and get breakfast ready, I’m starvin.” You joke, pulling your shirt over your arms and buttoning it from the bottom up. Arthur laughs, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he groans, getting himself dressed for the day. 

He makes a little fire out front, and you smile, sitting at the entrance of the open tent as he prods and pokes at the smoldering logs with a stick. He puts on a little pot of coffee, and pulls a few cans from his satchel. 

“It ain’t much, but it’s what we got.” Arthur says, stabbing his knife into the top of one of the cans and cutting away the seal. He hands it out to you then, and you smile at the label. Strawberries, another delicious treat that Arthur had stashed away in his bag.

“It’s perfect.” You hum, slipping your fingers into the can and pulling out one of the berries. Today proves to be the calm after the storm, and despite the rain that soaks into the ground, covering the grass in a mist, the day is beautiful. The sun shines brightly down onto you and Arthur, sipping your coffees and making quiet, comfortable conversation. One by one, eating the berries, you begin to feel replenished. Not having eaten for the past three days, too devastated to even move, you devour your whole can of strawberries, and then you pick at Arthur’s. It breaks his heart a little, seeing how you’ve deprived yourself of basic needs in his absence, but he says nothing. You squint your eyes shut, relishing in the warm bitterness of your coffee until you’ve drunk it all down. 

“Thank you.” You say, placing the empty cup on the ground next to the empty cans, “For everything.”

“Course.” Arthur smiles, standing from the ground with a groan. He picks up the trash, and you raise an eyebrow at him as he tosses it into the woods. In just a matter of one night he’s managed to piece you back together, both physically and emotionally. It’s a debt you’ll owe him forever, though you know he’ll ask for nothing in return. 

“Star?” Arthur asks, looking at the tent as you stand from it, packing up, “This John’s tent?” He asks, looking over the familiar dark camping kit, one that he’s pitched his own next to on many occasions while out working.

Your eyes go wide and you snort, remembering that John had left you his camping kit back when you’d told him you planned on staying by the river. 

“Oh my god-” You say, horrified, “We’ll have to get him a new one.” 

Arthur chuckles, amused as he brings the tent down and starts packing it up with the blankets. 

“Nah, he won’t know.” Arthur brushes it off, snickering to himself. 

“Arthur-” You chastise, jaw open slightly as he rolls everything up and ties it onto the back of Balius. Arthur says nothing, a smirk on his lips as he walks to the front of his scarred shire, petting his head. 

“Missed ya, boy. I hope you took real good care of the lady while I was gone, I know you did.” Arthur whispers to his stallion, patting his neck a few times while pulling some mints from his saddle bag. He gives Balius one, and then looks back to you, blushing at the smile on your lips from his whispering. 

“Ready?” He asks, gripping the horn of his saddle. 

“As I’ll ever be.” You sigh, kicking dirt into the fire before mounting onto Athena, patting her in thanks for getting you across the river all those days ago.

You wonder what happens now. When you return to camp will Arthur showcase your newfound relationship?- If that's what you’re calling it, that is. You don’t know if things will slip back into their usual routine, or if this will change everything. You’re not ready for the gawking, hushed whispers of the girls, or the disapproving glare of Dutch. Though it's nonsensical, you feel that everyone will know what happened out here, and you feel terribly selfish for spending the night with Arthur when his own family didn’t even know he was alive. Still, you don’t regret it. 

Trotting across the river back towards Horseshoe Overlook, back towards home, you glance up ahead. Arthur is in front of you leading the way, and you release a breath, letting all of the worry and the guilt fall from your shoulders and be lost in the river. Because no matter what faces you back at camp, he's with you now, by your side with no intentions of leaving. You'll face it together.

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series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie

[deadpool15]

A game of teasing

What's there to be sad about in life when you managed to bag a gorgeous, adorable, tall golden retriever as a girlfriend. Exactly I win bitches, Zamora wins again hoes. Laying in bed while thinking about my baby, Haechi. She is most likely stuck in practice right now. Wolf'lo has been training hard ever since then got invited to SWF2. It was kinda new to all of them, with them obviously being amazing in dance battles, though choreography was a whole other story that I won't get into right now.

So, after waking up this morning to those most amazing orgasm, might I add. I sat here contemplating, should I be a good girl or just add a little spice to her say. "I mean, she is probably so bored and missing me so much right now. Therefore she won't be anything but happy. Then again, she might come out home all mad and shit, but either way, I get what I want. So it doesn't matter. " Welp, there goes that good girl bullshit for the day.

So, I jump up running to my closet with a wicked smile on my face. She is gonna love this so much. I grab one of Haechi's shirts and take off everything else. Then, I ran back out of my room, getting everything in place. To those of you who are able to take good ass pictures with no effort, I hope you get sent to the deepest pit in hell. Literally fucking witchcraft. I grab my ringlight last to take a couple with it, then a couple without. Nudes are all about the detail, baby. Then, I sit directly in front of the mirror with my legs open, giving her a nice view if you know what I mean.

" I'm such a thoughtful girlfriend. I would kill to marry myself." I sit there adorning the photos and pick out which ones to share. "Got to make sure she gets a good show, not too much, though she can come home for the full thing." I send all the messages while saying, "I miss you so much baby", yea that's gonna get her. I lay back down, waiting for my evil plan to take effect and laugh.

While I was sitting in the studio, I got a message from my girlfriend. "Look at her all love struck," I hear Halo telling the entire dammm world. And try to cover up my blushing face while opening up my phone. It's barely been a few hours, and she already misses me, "Wow, she just can't get enough of me, huh? Maybe one day you guys will be able to experience these feelings, you know." I say all cocky while looking at my crew.

I go back to looking through my phone scrolling on Instagram. Oo right my baby sent me a message, I'm so forgetful it's literally sad. I open up my messages and see her text. Aww, she misses me. I knew it. Then I scroll up, and my fucking jaw drops. Omg. I log back out and log back in to make sure I'm not seeing anything. Then I see it again. "Why is she fucking doing this to me?" I sit there with my jaw clenched staring at the photo. How the fuck is she so wet? I almost forget I'm in a room full of people until I hear Halo tell everyone breaks over.

Haechi- You think that shit is fucking funny, huh? I'm gonna be back home in a couple of hours and your ass is mine.

I heard a notification pop up on my phone and stop reading the book that I had picked up while I was waiting on Haechi to reply. I quickly read the text messages and smirked just the reaction I wanted. Actually, what if she breaks me. "I didn't really think this through, did I?" Well, it's too late now. Now or never. I open up the camera and pose while lifting up my or her shirt technically to reveal my pierced nipples. Then reply back.

Zamora- I was just trying to give you some motivation, baby. Show you how much I love you. Can't wait for you to get home, that is if you can keep up.

I look at the message before I send it and just stare at the screen. Before I know it, my finger has already hit send. "Maybe I took it too far. She is totally gonna break my vagina." It's fine. I don't mind not walking. Ok, I take it back. I'm scared now.

Haechi- I'm on my way, had to leave work early since my girlfriend is such a fucking slut. It's never enough for you, is it. Eat you out this morning, and you still pull some shit like this. Call out from work tomorrow. You're gonna be busy. I'll make sure of it.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

For the TGM party can I get a Bradley x reader smut •flightsuit and • keep your eyes on me

Thank you so much 🩷

I'm not sure where this came from or what this is, but I hope you like it Nonny!

----

warnings: smut, dom/sub vibes, a little bit of power imbalance/superiority kink.

Fall In Line

“Keep your eyes on me. Don’t you dare close them,” Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw demanded. You did your very best to follow his orders - he was your commanding officer, afterall. It was quite literally in your job description to listen to what he says, even if you don’t think this is what the US Navy really had in mind. But your work day was technically over, the base for the most part abandoned, and he was so much more than just your superior when it was only the two of you.

The overhead light in the on base locker room flickered, and the room smelt of jet fuel and men’s body wash. You stared at him through the full length mirror he had you positioned in front of. Your flight suit lay in a heap around your ankles, your black sports bra the only thing covering any part of your body. Your Lieutenant Commander’s hands gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises tomorrow. His large frame stood behind you, his own heavy suit pushed down right below his hips. His thick cock pushed in and out of you at a slow, torturous pace. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, because he had told you to stay quiet, too. But the feel of his veiny length dragging against your walls started to be too much and despite your best efforts, your eyes fluttered shut. He felt so good, and you were so full. No one could make you feel like he did since you started meeting like this all those months ago. 

You heard him chuckle in your ear. The condescending sound had your eyes shooting back open. His smirk stared back at you in the mirror. A shiver started up your spine, because you knew what was next. 

“You were being such a good girl for me, Lieutenant. But you know what happens when you disobey me, don’t you?” 

You nodded shakily. Anticipation simmered under your skin, and you swore you could feel yourself getting even wetter. He pressed a gentle, almost taunting kiss to the shell of your ear. 

“Tell me,” he urged quietly.

“I get punished,” you responded, voice breathy, and tinged with desperate eagerness. 

His fingers flexed on your hips as he nodded. He pulled out of you and spun you to face him. You looked up at him submissively, waiting for your next instruction. His dark eyes were beautiful. 

“On your knees, Lieutenant.” 

word count: 414

-----

Wanna participate in the party? See details here.

[utilitycaster]

could you elucidate on why coffeelocks are bad actually? my friend is a bit obsessed with them right now and i’ve never liked the specific build but i’d love to have concrete reasons that aren’t just opinions!

YES. Somewhere in my archives I think I actually did the math on like, how many short rests you have to take for this to pay any dividends, and it was a LOT, but that was during full lockdown iirc and you do not have to do this much work.

The basic gist of coffeelock for those wondering is that warlocks recharge spell slots on a short rest, and sorcerers can convert sorcery points into spell slots and vice versa. The idea is that if you take Pact of the Tome and then Aspect of the Moon as an eldritch invocation, you never have to long rest again and can just farm sorcery points/spell slots for 8 hours each night.

Now: the most obvious issue is that any reasonable DM who hears about this will look at you and say "I don't care if it's technically legal, I think it's annoying and I'm not going to let you do it." But let's assume your DM does not shut it down.

You have infinite spell slots at level 5. You are warlock 3 sorcerer 2. You know 7 spells total, which is what you'd know had you leveled to level 5 in either of these classes, except you also know 6 level 1 spells and 1 level 2 spell, max. Someone who leveled normally would have fireball, or dispel magic, or counterspell, and if they were divine soul they might even have revivify, but not you! This will eventually get slightly better at higher levels but if you're the party's main arcane caster this sucks and if you're in a party with fewer than like, five people, or perhaps a really caster heavy party, you're putting a lot of burden on other people to do the utility early on so that your dumb ass can cast magic missile 20 times a day or whatever.

I don't actually care for sorlock just generally, in the absence of coffeelock bullshit. Yes, it depends on the same main stat, but a bard or paladin combo will actually significantly broaden your repertoire. Sorcerer and Warlock have a LOT of spell overlap, and metamagic is one of those things that is like, super clutch 0.1% of the time and the rest of the time it's like oh ok (though I guess as a coffeelock you're not even really using metamagic! total waste of being a sorcerer, which is the weakest caster already! great job.). Meanwhile, two of the big strengths of warlock are 1. eldritch blast, a cantrip you can already cast infinite times without spell slots, and 2. eldritch invocations, which you have to level in warlock to get. Dipping into sorcerer means fewer invocations. Basically, all multiclassing is a trade off and I feel like this is at most the sum of its parts, certainly not more. I also think it's very tricky to play this in a way that is narratively interesting and makes sense for your character while also abiding by the specific leveling requirements of coffeelock. This isn't an issue in a one-shot but also in a one-shot you simply might not even take a long rest which renders the entire thing useless.

You have to take Pact of the Tome, which means you are spending all this time and effort and build for infinite spell slots but also you have, without any racial bonuses, literally 9 cantrips (ie, at-will spells) at level 5. And none of them are dispel magic, because that is too high for you for at least another 2 levels and that's only if you choose to continue in warlock. Also, actually, until you reach L9 in specifically divine soul sorcerer, you don't have greater restoration as discussed, so yeah your DM can just be like "oh you don't have to sleep but you do still gain exhaustion."

I lied and I did some math. So: you are a L5 coffeelock. let's say you have exhausted all your resources on day 1. You sit down for your little bullshit 8 short rests. You can never have more than two sorcery points, because the PHB page 101 says that you can't exceed the number of sorcery points shown on the table for your level. So every hour you convert one L2 spell slot (recharging) into a L1 spell slot (non-recharging), and repeat this (you can't convert both at once! because then you exceed two sorcery points!) and you end the night with 14 L1 spells and your two L2 warlock spell slots. If you are lucky, you might get like, one short rest if there is a monk or wizard or fighter in the party and they don't hate you so much that they're willing to go without ki points/second winds/arcane recovery, and they might. I guess you just stockpile low level spells indefinitely until you have to sleep finally? if you have a week of downtime do you just. walk around with hundreds of first level spell slots and not think this is the dumbest shit of all time? ooooh look at me i can cast fucking...detect magic for 24 hours straight. can't dispel any of it though!

Leveling up is a bitch too if I recall. You need to level up in sorcerer to get more points so you can eventually convert to higher level spells, and the exchange rate is not generous (like, if you're not sleeping, it's ok, but it's not in your favor as shown with the L2 to L1 conversion) and imo warlock is the superior class, and you're probably not really taking advantage of metamagic anyway so you're barely reaping the benefits of being a sorcerer except for flexible casting. Do you feel good about this? Is this fun for you? Your entire table is watching you count out your spell slots each night and hoping fervently you get audited by the IRS in real life but man you sure showed them by being able to cast chromatic orb a lot!

Also you can't use items that recharge on a long rest, only ones that recharge at dawn. Sucker.

This is all very long because I think coffeelock is an annoying build for people who think they are smart and really aren't, but the gist is that you trade away a great deal of your utility, ability to help the party, and ability to do anything except cast rather low-level spells in comparison to what everyone who made better decisions is doing. Also it's LAUGHABLY easy for the DM to fuck this over for you within the bounds of the rules even if they allowed it. Your patron gets annoyed that you're only leveling in sorcerer. Levels of exhaustion. Your patron, who communicates through dreams, straight up abandons you because you're not picking up their calls. You keep being put in positions where your 75 first level spells won't do shit and a single third level spell would. They taunt you with items that recharge on a long rest.

It's just...well, quantity over quality. Shein haul ass character build.

[freevoidman]

The Pros and Cons of Silent Hill: Ascension

Hey there! Are you planning on sitting through Silent Hill Ascension, either because you're excited, want to build up hype/support for further Silent Hill projects, or maybe you're curious about what new shit show Konami's cooked up? Well, I've sat through the first two days, and let this post be a quick run-through on the good, the bad, and the very, very ugly about Silent Hill: Ascension!

Pros:

There's honestly very little, but I'll run through them nonetheless.

Voice Acting is, right now, okay. Some actors are clearly better than others. I have to give special shout-outs to Rachel Hernandez and Xavier Candless. They're both doing really well with their characters so far and I'm excited to hear how they'll act in more emotive scenes. Of course, we're only two days in so we'll see how that changes.

Silent Hill Ascension features minigames which average around "okay." I'll talk about it more in the 'Bad' section, but the good ones are fun little brain teasers that I find satisfying enough to solve. This is not across the board, but it's enough of a positive that I felt it okay to list.

The site is functional enough that the catch-up videos seemed to work without any hiccups (edit: so long as there isn't a livestream occurring at the same time. If you want to play catch-up 30 minutes before the new stuff is released, odds are the livestream will cut in and mess up your video). Plus, the grace period for decision making is very generous so far, ranging from a full 24 hours to multiple days, so they do give you enough time if you can't watch live.

Credit where credit is due: the monster/creature designs are genuinely well-made. You can clearly see where the budget went, and it was towards making these things look cool and be animated well enough to translate that creepy factor. While nothing is abundantly original right now (we've yet to see the flaming box head guy) I won't short-change the monster designers and animators here, they put effort into this.

There was a bit of misinformation spread around that you'd have to pay to participate. Thankfully, that's not true, you can "play" Ascension without paying a cent and I, personally, wouldn't call this a "pay-to-win" type of game with its set-up. In other words: DO NOT PAY, it's absolutely not worth it here.

Bad:

Animation quality shifts from middling to horrible. The main criticism I have for this "experimental idea" is that everything Ascension tries, the 2000s nailed long before. If you've ever seen one of those 3D straight-to-TV movies that airs on cartoon networks during the holidays, congrats, their animation is likely better and has more charm than Ascension. Characters in Ascension move stiffly, either emote too much or not enough, and lip syncing seems off no matter which language you pick. Animation in SH1 is easily better than this, so don't expect a visual spectacle.

As an addendum to this: Ascension is dark--no, not the content, it is literally hard to see. Going into a Silent Hill-adjacent media, you expect visibility to be impacted by fog. Ascension, on the other hand, skips the fog entirely and just makes everything dark. It is incredibly difficult to see anything that's happening (this includes QTEs which, hoo boy! look at the next segment for that). I don't want to be cynical, but I truly do believe that part of the reason why is to cover up the stiff animation. Until Dawn and other Dark Anthology games had some moments of animation weirdness, but Silent Hill Ascension is easily worse than that on a pure technical level.

App and website responsivity is baaad. Minigames are designed for both platforms with zero differences, but this means some minigames are better on desktop than on mobile and vice versa. Two minigames stand out as particularly mixed/bad: a find-the-object game and a guitar minigame. The find-the-object game was better on desktop because your hovering cursor could find clickable areas more easily than on mobile. The guitar minigame was just bad--it wasn't a rhythm game, it was a game where you had to click finger positions for chords on the guitar strings and, my god, it played horribly no matter which platform I picked (though mobile was noticeably worse) and actually hurt my ears.

As an addendum to that, the live QTE events (yes that's a thing) ALSO suffer from this lack of responsivity, with more destructive results. Live participants were abruptly thrust into QTEs with no warning, no tutorials, and no preparation. There were 4 types of QTEs: a quick button press, a hold-release button, a rapid-tap, and a quick swipe. Of these, only the hold-release and rapid-tap worked regularly. The quick press barely responded, and the swipe indicator is practically hidden due to it being borderline invisible.* While you can try the minigames over and over as much as you want, the QTEs are limited to the live showings and cannot be "replayed." In addition, they have been heavily implied to be a major determining factor as to whether or not characters survive, so if every character's fate is based on successful QTEs, every character is going to die in this show, no matter what you do. This is why I said it's not pay-to-win, you can't pay your way through live QTEs, and this set-up feeds into the unsatisfactory system the entire "game" perpetuates. Even if YOU do well, decisions are based on the community, so if they fail, tough nugs.

The story isn't shaping up to be anything remarkable. There's no major hook in the opening scene and even less of a hook for the three scenes that followed. I'm not intrigued by the "horror" being shown, the way this is being shot and told is more confusing than anything else and, while there are some 'good' actors in this, a majority of them are bad and lack any hutzpah to sell the continued experience. I'm going to hold out for the end of the week, when the first "episode" is done airing, but if nothing hooks me I'm not going to continue.

Ugly:

The "Battlepass." Oh dear god the Battlepass. By paying $20, you can get more "influence points," which you can use to determine actions in this game. You also get exclusive little emote stickers for the live chat (oof) that are, at best, a cringey nightmare and, at worst, absolutely stupid and useless. You also get accessories for your avatar (did I mention there's an avatar? it's so pointless I don't even know WHERE to put that tidbit). Why is this even here? You already have freemium options where you can buy influence points, what does a battlepass add?

The "live chat" just shouldn't be there. I'm sorry, it shouldn't. You can already see the community casting votes and helping with QTEs, having a live chat that is barely moderated with hundreds of thousands of people signing on at 9 to watch the stupidity unfold is a bad idea. It also contributes to the stupidity of the Battlepass system--I don't want emotes, I don't want a 3D avatar that can appear in the show if I give enough points--so nix the whole thing. EDIT 11/1/2023: I kinda got my wish! After the amazing lack of moderation on launch, they've either temporarily OR permanently disabled the live chat! Unfortunately, the video's dimensions to compensate FOR live chat have not been altered, so there's a big gap of black negative space where it should be. People can only reply with the dumb stickers the devs have shoved into this, BUT if you have the battlepass, you can apparently type messages! Ironically, this retroactively gives the battle pass an actual fucking purpose since it gives you a privilege, and the stickers serve a purpose since they're the only way for non-battlepassers to communicate in live chat. Fucking brilliant, they've stumbled backwards into an unintentional solution. EDIT 11/4/2023: Genvid's CEO, Jacob Navok, has made various claims on twitter that of course they tested they tested their AI moderation for basic slurs, it's just that the system got overwhelmed by day 1 traffic. Well, I absolutely DON'T believe that (the testing, not the overwhelmed thing, connection and stability were terrible day 1) seeing as people are getting around not being able to TYPE swearing and horrific racial slurs into chat by simply making their usernames swears and slurs without any letter substitution (a la leetspeak). Here is a link to a video of someone who was streaming Ascension and had the chat open, only to see have someone with the user name "Fuck_[n-word]s" in chat (I'm not typing the actual slur fuck that). When he goes to try and flag the user, he is given no ability to report the username. So, yeah, even if you see some incredibly racist/bigoted shit, you can't flag the user and report them to, y'know, assist with the absolutely real robot-powered moderation that totally exists! If there was the most BASIC moderation in the world to catch english swears and slurs, that username would not have been permitted under any circumstances, so I fully do not believe this fucker.

The decisions themselves shouldn't have labels. What I mean by that is that, so far, every option has three possible options. These options are labelled under three categories: redemption, suffering, and damnation. In other words, the watcher can literally see the paths leading towards the "good, neutral, and bad" endings for Ascension. This shouldn't be a thing, period, because it immediately introduces biases into your choices. Every option so far has been massively skewed towards the "redemption" path because people aren't blind, they can see the "good" ending on the horizon, and they want to go for it. The worst part is, the options on their on aren't explicitly good or bad, so if they got rid of that labeling it'd still work. idk, it just feels stupid. (NOTE: day 2 introduced ONE choice that doesn't have this same labeling system. No clue if that's a bug or if there are going to be decisions that don't have a label. Even then, it seems like a small decision in the overall scheme of things, so... :shrug:)

Yes, the decisions are permanent, thus denying you the ability to see 2/3s of whatever Genvids has worked on. I just think that's dumb and, though many in the community have criticized this already, it feels even dumber when watching the show play out live. There's no way that the money Ascension could possibly make would subsidize the effort put into this if you're effectively nixing 2/3s of anything you can see (and it does seem like major alterations to the characters and their routes so far, nothing minor, so... yeah, you're missing out on a LOT). This also means that because of the audience effectively being enticed to pick the clearly labelled "good path," if you put any effort into a different choice, odds are you wasted your time with minigames for the day. This means Ascension is set up to be as unsatisfying as possible for individuals, and only satiates half of the community engaging with it. There is no way this is going to last the entire scheduled 6 months this is intended to run for if this is the system they're operating under.

In conclusion: give this one a pass. If you're really curious, you can watch now and get a good idea of its future quality. This isn't remarkable at all and looks more like a time sink than anything "fun."

I still don't understand why this isn't a video game, other than Konami hoping some suckers will pay for the influence packs and get them more money than a $60 one-time-purchase. Quantic Dreams and Supermassive "Dark Anthology" games are really fun and well-liked because of the CYA angle they take. This could've made a decent amount of money if it were just, y'know, a normal game.

*MINOR EDIT: tested the QTEs on desktop instead of mobile and they were better overall: prompts respond easily to mouse clicks and aren't nearly as invisible on my phone screen compared to my desktop. If you are REALLY interested in trying it live and getting a feel of the "authentic, live experience", I'd recommend accessing the site on desktop over downloading a mobile app.

EDIT 11/2/2023

Yeah I know I keep editing this honestly BUT I do have a big-ass critique I just noticed relating, again, to the minigames.

Here is a screenshot of the rewards you can receive for your performance with the minigames. You are rated on a scale of 1-3 stars, with a failure being 0 stars. In return for your performance, you gain "Interactive Points" and EXP. Tell me, after looking at this screenshot, what the problem with these rewards might be:

Do you see it? Well, if you don't, let me point it out to you.

THE AMOUNT OF INTERACTIVE POINTS YOU RECEIVE, THE CURRENCY YOU USE TO ACTUALLY MAKE DECISIONS AND PROPERLY CONTRIBUTE TO THE STORY, GOES DOWN IF YOU DO WELL AT THE MINIGAMES. THE GAME ACTIVELY PUNISHES YOU FOR PLAYING WELL.***

100 interactive points, by the way, is not enough to vote on a decision! You need 200 minimum. You also cannot repeatedly play the minigames to farm IP or EXP so, once you get two stars, you can't get the rewards for three or vice versa. And remember, if you're not a battlepasser, you only get two of these minigames per day.

Why on earth is it scaled this way? The difference between two stars and three stars is the exact same, why does it not increase when you do the minigames well? 100 for one star, 200 for two, 300 for three, it's so god damn easy AND you can still keep the scummy interactive point packages they sell!

But, I here you asking, what does the EXP do? Well, ignoring that a 10 EXP difference is exceeding minimal, EXP gives you... nothing!

Yeah, not even kidding with this one. There does seem to be a leveling system attached to your profile, but I cannot see a single thing connecting it to rewards (which are across the board useless), giving you a power boost with your voting, or just giving you perks. As far as I'm aware, EXP doesn't grant you a god damn thing, and that's the only increased reward from doing well.

***CORRECTION (because nothing in my life can ever be simple): the minigames DO reward you better than the screenshot above. Just did today's minigames and I got 330 IP from a 2 star ranking. However, if that's the case, I GENUINELY do not understand why this is labelled incorrectly? This doesn't even add up correctly (the 1 star + 2 star ranking should equal 300, NOT 330).

So, at best, the site is poor at labelling things (which wouldn't surprise me, the UI is a mess most days on this) OR my view of the site/rewards are bugged! Who fuckin' knows at this point. Sorry for the long rant y'all but honestly? Considering I only noticed the labelling earlier today and couldn't test this until the reset happened, I could only go off the labelled point system above.

I WILL say that tonight was the first night the community succeeded at the endurance scenes! I'd be happier about that if the game itself gave a shit, because apparently, what we do does not matter (as this game seems rapt with telling us)

Yes folks, despite the community succeeding two (2!) of these long ass, repetitive QTE events, for some fucking reason, Karl's hope went down further! This is, again, despite the fact that the community AT LARGE succeeded for the first time since the premiere date, but we still lost! Fucking how.

[emelinstriker]

I love how all the asks just blew up with Azure's release, this is funny to me. Meanwhile, I'm still planning my wedding to Wukong and Macaque-

Now, because you're focusing so much on Azure, I don't expect a response to this right away, but here's more brain dump about the wedding details.

So I looked more into polyamorous weddings and found out that they are not legal. It's not legal in many places! Of course, not legal in many places does not mean all places, and therefore I discovered that a man can marry multiple women but a woman can't marry multiple men. However, with further research, I discovered that Africa and Asia are both places where it is legal to marry any type of polyamory and given Wukong and Macaque are technically Chinese, it works! Therefore, if we aren't already in China, We need to jump on the Mink Express and yes, I will have Mink turn into a train for this. Why Mink and why a train, you ask? ... ... Anyways, if we go to China then everything's legal and right and such. But what if we want to marry somewhere specific? That would mean we can only legally marry one with works anyways and I would marry Macaque first so he would legally be our husband. The marriage with Wukong would not be legal and would just be a ceremony announcing the next step of our relationship.

But after all that research, I remembered that the Champions and by extent the Readers care not for the legalities so ignore literally everything I just said. Let's get to the fun stuff, little situations I imagined!:

The cake wouldn't be a normal wedding cake, but fruit cake to better appease to the monkeys taste buds! I imagine it would look like a normal cake but have, like chunks of peach in it or even slices of peach on each layer. I feel like Nezha would convince Red Son to add certain designs and just overall help with the design of the cake. Still don't know how to epxplain my thought process there though......

With the release of Azure, I decided that he would try to take most of the planning off of our shoulders, orchestrating the whole thing according to whatever we wanted. If there was something we wanted and couldn't have for some reason, never fear! He'll fix that up with a stern talking to which might result in him bringing home lunch for the other Champions, if you know what I mean. He would also definitely walk the Reader down the aisle with his little bottom fanged smile!

For you, #1 Oracle Fan Anon, we'll invite the Oracle to the wedding and they'll chill in the back with his colleagues/friends. (sorry if I got any of the wrong, I haven't looked to deep into the Oracle's lore) The Oracle would probably leave as soon as possible unless convinced otherwise by this colleagues/friends.

We would also invite the Wukong, Macaque, and MK (and Red Son?) from the neighboring AU, "The King and his Cub" by theweepingegg. TKC Macaque would be bitter about the whole thing, but I think TKC Wukong would also be another man of honor with ESAU MK. And TKC MK would pull some wacky hijinks with TKC Red Son.

And Mink, how could I have almost forgotten him?! (I think it's because I secretly hold a grudge against him for being too Jax-core. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I don't really like Jax for being Sans-core so this is all giving me major deja-vu) Mink would do the minimal amount of effort into helping but he would get us a gift. A colander in particular. Nothing else. When we open it, he would hold up a finger, signalling to give him a moment, sit in the colander for a brief period of time, then melt out of it and disappear of the rest of the night. Again, I can't explain my thought process here.

The fact that this meme works in not just in a literal, but also a metaphorical sense tho-

But yasss I love those ideas fhgnfhgffghfngh I find it funny though how you did research on poly marriages and just threw it right out the window cuz we ain't goin' with standard weddings up in here fhgnfhgnhfg

[aroace-poly-show]

also a thing for you if you ever want to ramble about hw- what's emu's story for this? how did she get into illustration, and how did she meet the troupe?

RAUGH I ALWAYS WANT TO RAMBLE AND IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS TY FOR ASKING!!!! also took a while this time my bad man. the route my bus takes has very very shit internet so i couldn’t continue my draft during my ride 💔

anywayyy. good lord this is fucking long. im sorry.

for emu, i’m still figuring stuff out with her, but i’ve been thinking about her a lot more recently, and so far what i’ve got is that she has a little bundle of issues including grief over her grandpa, toxic positivity and not letting herself feel negative emotions properly, some internalized hatred of herself and how childish she is following an argument w shosuke, and generally feeling kinda lost, like the rest of hw, after wonder stage closed bc she doesn’t know what to do w/o shows. yknow.

so like. she still has her whole thing w/ her grandpa. and she while she wasn’t doing the *best* she wasn’t doing that bad in the mental health department. still wasn’t letting herself like. grieve properly. but she wasn’t the worst. she performed a lot on wonder stage and knew that the stage was in danger of being closed down, so she tried really hard to keep it from happening. but the actors for wonder stage began to leave as time went on and the ones who stayed didn’t really get why she was so persistent in keeping this stage open when the others in the park were better and shit. and she didn’t have much help. so unfortunately despite her best efforts wonder stage was kinda doomed for closure. butttt she’s not giving up yet. so she tries to convince her brothers to not close it, or at least to just give her some more time. which Does Not Go Well. shosuke gets real frustrated with her and starts yelling and shit. and while keisuke shuts him down once he gets too heated. well. it’s kinda too late. with what he said about her being childish and demanding that she just grow up already and stuff like that, my girl takes that to heart. and then with the official closure of wonder stage…yeah…she’s not doing the best…

emu’s grief here is made worse w/ the wonder stage closure. cause like. that was her and her grandpa’s favorite stage. girl feels like she failed him. she loved that stage. she loved doing shows there. it was something she had to remind her of her grandpa. and now it’s closed. :(

since then she’s been. different. like it’s just barely noticeable to a lot of people but she’s definitely changed. she smiles and acts cheery and seems like her usual self but like. her smile isn’t quite the same. she’s not quite as talkative. she avoids her brothers a lot more. and her brothers have noticed btw and they both feel AWFUL. especially shosuke. they done fucked up and they know it.

also like technically she could keep doing shows, after all theres the other stages in pheonix wonderland, and she has experience in doing shows + is related to the people who literally own the place so it wouldn’t be hard for her to join one of those stages. but she doesn’t bc after all that, she thinks her goal of just wanting to bring smiles to people is childish. shows make her so so happy but she thinks it’s immature and naive of her to still want to pursue that, especially considering she failed last time. it’s a silly and childish path to pursue, and she needs to pull her head out of the clouds and grow up already, like her brother says. so despite loving shows with all her heart, she gives up on doing them. but since shows are so important to her, she doesn’t rlly know what to do without them, so that’s where that feeling lost stuff comes in. yknow.

for her art, i just think she enjoyed art in general, and with her grief and the wonder stage closure it helped her cope. i have a very specific idea in my head of her style. but i cant remember the artist here on tumblr that i think she does art like. if i can remember their name i will though. i might actually do a post dedicated to what i think her art style is like….

not set in stone just yet, but what i’m thinking for the original meet up is that she meets nene first. nene does music and emu finds it, and it gives her some inspiration for some art. she posts it and credits nene’s music as what inspired her, and nene is so fucking honored. through some light encouragement from rui nene gets the courage to dm emu to tell her thank you, and they start chatting!! they get along pretty well and emu starts making art for nene’s music. eventually rui has the idea to start animating them, so they can make music videos for the songs, and boom hw gets its beginnings online.

this happens before wonder stage closure btw. when it does close, emu disappears from their group chat for a bit. she comes back like nothing happens and while she doesn’t tell them what happened, they both notice she doesn’t talk about what shows shes doing anymore, or shows in general. nene and rui are both very sad at this btw. seeing emu have so much love for shows and be able to talk about them like she did was really nice, so to see her stop with that and seemingly not enjoying shows anymore after something happened, just like they did, it sucks. :(

anyway i think my timeline is like. during nene’s last year of middle school when she transfers to home schooling, she starts doing music -> everything i just mentioned here happens -> eventually they meet tsukasa, and he joins the group -> hollow ☆ wonderland does its thing as a group for a while -> main story shit happens. yeah. 👍

uhhhh. dear god i’m so bad at explaining my thoughst. augh. i hope this made some amount of sense. and that i wasn’t too repetitive lsajdkhfgyfdhsj. anyway miscellaneous emu thingies now.

like i mentioned, wonder stage hasn’t been replaced yet, it’s just closed down and sectioned off. so emu still visits it all the time. there is nothing being done to maintain it. so it is absolutely unsafe. but does emu care. no. girlie wants to disappear and while she’s not *planning* on dying, if she had to die anywhere she wouldn’t mind if it was at wonder stage. she draws there a lot.

a lot of her drawings are traditional!! with lots of bright colors and crayons and colored pencils. she has lots of fun drawing.

this applies to non-au emu as well but she has gifted stickers to all her friends. nene’s synthesizer is covered in them.

wonder stage was closed off at sunset. btw. just to give her another reason to hate sunsets.

[chirpsythismorning]

Hi!

I want to ask a question which is eating me since july:

What is the narratively propose of the line "I feel like my life started the day we found you in the woods" ?

Because I am losing my mind on this one. The worst is I don't think it won't came back in s5, not like the painting.

But this sentence makes the all "asking to be my friend is the best thing i did" business a lie! From Will's prospective.

How much Will's lie will affect Mike in s5 is widely discussed, but what will be the consequences of Mike's monologue for Will ?

(Ironically, I don't think Will knew he was lying, he genuinely thought that El loved Mike that much. he genuinely thought that El loved Mike as much as he do)

So what do you think?

Bye <3

I never really thought about it that way, but now that you say it, ouch.

I would definitely say from Will's perspective, Mike's monologue to El contradicted his monologue to him in the shed in s2, and so therefore Mike asking him to be his best friend wasn't the best thing he did...?

Yeah that's definitely going to be circled back to in some capacity.

Honestly, I think s5 is going to be very tragic. So many casual fans expect Will to have this horrible ending based on this trend they've had for Will's character thus far. I think to subvert this expectation a majority of the audience has, the Duffer's are going to go all out... They're going to humor those fans expectations a little bit, meaning they are going to make Will (and all of the characters quite frankly) experience so much pain, that it'll have even the most confident bylers questioning everyones happy ending. And that's what's going to make the ending so gratifying. You can't know joy unless you've known sorrow. Those of us who can soar to the highest heights can also plunge to the deepest depths. Don't mind this very relevant Anne with an E quote because the Duffers are anners.

This season upon season trend of the story sidelining Will, something even most casual viewers picked up on and critique as a bad thing... is literally setting Will up for a perfect ending. Because how would season upon season of a character losing again and again, be satisfying if it ended with him losing, again? Answer: it wouldn't be.

Will's dealt with the shit end of things for years, with s4 reaching new heights of making him feel like he deserves it.

All of this is going to come to a head in s5 with Vecna trying to get Will to join him. We already know that he wants to kill everyone else, except Will... and so, Will clearly isn't a target for him to literally kill or hurt technically, and yet Vecna will do what he has to in order to get Will to feel like he has no choice but to join him.

And I think this quote is going to play a part in Will's experiences over the last 3+ seasons finally being confronted head on in the story.

I also don't think Mike said that, knowing what it implied, otherwise he wouldn't have said it at all. Though I think both Will and El and maybe even Jonathan knew what it implied, and I'm sure it pissed them off a little bit. Like I know El was thinking Mike not only are you a bad boyfriend but your bad friend too because jesus!

This quote could honestly come to bite Mike's ass as well, because seeing Will at his lowest thinking no one cares, is going to make Mike feel responsible, because he's going to realize he played a role in part of Will having those negative feelings about himself in the first place. Actually thinking about what he said and how it made Will feel, and also rethinking other interactions between them, all while potentially finding out about Will's feelings/sexuality, that is going to destroy Mike honestly. Because this whole time they could have been together if he'd just not done those things.

Yes, Mike has made the effort to reconcile with Will in both s3-4 after their fights, but they've never truly confronted the problem. And that's all for a reason.

Because once they do confront the truth, it's going to be hard for them to not want to be together knowing they both feel the same.

But the reality is most stories don't operate like that because it's not satisfying, especially slow-burn romances.

When it comes to slow-burns, it's all about the miscommunication and the will they wont they and the balance of both parties feeling something while thinking the other couldn't feel the same.

But I think right now the story is sort of imbalanced in terms of clueing the audience in on Mike's feelings for Will, in comparison to clueing the audience in on Will's feelings for Mike.

And with s5 going back to s1-2 vibes, it's entirely likely s1-2 vibes Mike is making a return, so there is a good chance they're following through with how a slow-burn ship has to operate, meaning they are evening up the balance of those feelings to make their endgame feel worthy and satisfying.

I do think that quote from Mike's monologue will impact both of them in some capacity, because it also, like you said, questions the validity of Mike's monologue to Will in the shed. And so it needs to be confronted in a way that gives both Will and Mike closure.

And let's not forget about El. She was there the day she met Mike and Lucas and Dustin and she knows it wasn't love at first sight. I think she herself has had a similar understanding of their meeting as Mike does, where it wasn't fate, that they just got lucky basically and it worked out for them. And yet she had strong feelings for him that grew over time. And so him saying that even probably upset her a little bit, because she knew it wasn't true even from her take on things. And so why would it be true for Mike who has been incapable of saying i love you to her face, ever?

This rose-tinted lens on their relationship from the beginning by the people around them, society and most of all the audience, is what put them in this position in the first place. They need to acknowledge the truth with one another (without Will mediating) so that they can actually move on and grow and be friends in the way they truly want to be.

Season 5 is definitely going to be a wild ride from start to finish, and even if it feels hopeless in the beginning, it'll all be worth it. Trust!