#i've missed dissecting this series

[when-we-drive-away-in-secret]

alright, so this is a question about netflix series which i've recently watched and now i'm suffering from asoue brainrot. there is an obscure moment in the penultimate peril (s3ep6) where frank locks olaf in the closet before the trial, and just as frank is about to close the door, olaf says, "one last thing", as if intending to say something. what do you think he wanted to add? is it something that is maybe more clear in the books?

OKAY so after rewatching that scene (several times) and rereading the corresponding scene in the book, I now feel at least partially equipped to answer this question! (But please bear with me because my research did send me on a bit of a tangent)

So first off, I don't think dealing with the book scene will be of too much help here (although not entirely unhelpful, either), because, as much as I love the netflix adaptation—and I do wholeheartedly adore it—it changes so much that the comparable scene is functionally unrecognisable in several key aspects. The main one being the lack of hostility towards to Baudelaires—Olaf is solidly isolated and supposedly running out of options at this point in the show, whereas his mentality in the books is entirely different because things appear to be going much more his way. He has a crowd at his back and the Baudelaires are seen as far more guilty, which doesn't really translate into the show!verse at all.

So, if we're looking at the show from a more isolated standpoint, I had to consider the possibility that it was a deliberate "what if" moment, without having anything else planned to say, purely for the purpose of getting in the Baudelaires' heads. However, I do feel like the most likely answer is that Olaf did in fact believe he would be heard out, so that's what we'll be assuming from here on out.

The fact that the Denouement in question calls him "buddy" and yet treats him roughly could have made him believe that this is Ernest playing the long con—pretending to be an ally to the others because they were outnumbered at the time, or simply for his own ends. However, he could also genuinely believe that it's Frank, and that he'd be heard out because it's the "noble" thing to do—VFD and the general society in the snicketverse is routinely governed by politeness over logic, and so cutting him off is simply impolite, so he may have believed he'd be able to talk his way out of being locked up. The use of "buddy" could be a generic, positive moniker used by Frank, or a genuine sentiment expressed by Ernest; the rough shake of his arm could be simply how Ernest behaves on any given day, or genuine righteous anger from Frank—just as it's impossible for us as the audience to be sure, Olaf has to try and figure this out in mere moments.

Regardless of what he thought would happen or who he thought he was talking to, though, I have to believe that whatever he was going to say would have been targeted more at the Baudelaires than the Denouement currently getting in his way, so it would likely have been an extension of what he'd already said, and what he'd go on to say at key moments for the remainder of the series—another attack on the Baudelaire parents, a critique of VFD's intentions, or something equally ambiguous to sow the seeds of mistrust in the minds of the children. Despite his general demeanour, he is actually a terrifyingly capable villain, and the human embodiment of the "either I'm god, or truth is relative" soundbite. If he's allowed to talk for long enough, he can convince just about anyone of anything (which is exactly what happens when he takes the stand during the trial), and I wouldn't be surprised if he was expecting to be allowed to run his mouth until both the adults are on his side.

What I think is a very interesting point to consider, though, is one useful comparison from the books—the number of the room he's sent to. As we all know, the rooms in the Hotel Denouement are arranged according to the Dewey Decimal System, and people are categorised above just as the records are categorised below. In the book, the Baudelaires are confined to room 121, and Olaf is locked in room 165 to await their trial. In the Dewey Decimal System, 121 refers to Epistemology—the theory of knowledge. A quote taken from the wikipedia page for epistemology reads:

Epistemology asks questions such as: "What is knowledge?", "How is knowledge acquired?", and "What do people know?"

Having the Baudelaires placed here shows that they aren't sure what people know about them, or what will be revealed at the trial, or what will happen to them (as clearly illustrated by the their conversation at the end of chapter ten). Olaf, however, is placed in room 165: Fallacies and Sources of Error. This could imply that he's in the wrong, but perhaps more likely foreshadows that other people are wrong about him. He will not go to prison, he will not be convicted, and, perhaps most crucially, he is not as completely evil as the Baudelaires believe. He has done terrible things, and he is a terrible person, but—as discussed during The End—they are wrong about the most crucial of his evil deeds (to them). Because he didn't kill their parents. He represents everything that VFD pretends it isn't, but at this point the Baudelaires believe (and have been told) that he is the complete antithesis of what the Volunteers represent—and so, he is categorised as a source of error.

However, in the show, both parties are placed in entirely different rooms, and therefore entirely different categorisations. The Baudelaires are placed in room 342: Constitutional and Administitive Law. This is a choice I absolutely adore, because at this point in the narrative they are quite literally trapped in bureaucracy. They fail because the system is rigged, and they are literally imprisoned by the law—not in the sense that they have already been convicted, but in the sense that they will be no matter what they do. If they stay, the High Court will pronounce them guilty. But, when they run, they're supposedly only proving their own guilt—damned if they don't, and damned if they do.

Olaf's is perhaps the more interesting change, though, because he's no longer seen as a source of error—despite the claims he makes about the Baudelaire parents and VFD immediately before being locked up (once again implying that he isn't lying to them, just using convenient truths). And it carries through to the trial, because he uses the truth (albeit a very deliberately and pointedly edited version) to make the Baudelaires seem just as guilty as he is. In the show, he's placed in room 170: Ethics (moral philosophy). And he is given the chance to talk at the trial, and talk he does. He twists the truth, spins it so that the Baudelaires seem guilty, but that is the exact point of moral debate! He trolley-problemed his way into screwing with the Baudelaires' heads, not because he needed to (he knew he was never getting convicted, because he knew who was on the High Court), but to prove a goddamn point. Yes, he's done terrible things, but did anyone think to ask him why? Of course, to us, the reader, the viewer, the third party observer, it doesn't matter. Because at a certain point, actions speak for themselves. Reasons can explain, but not necessarily excuse—that is the reasonable stance to take, and no matter his reasons, the explanation will never be an excuse for him.

But he's an actor. That's why Klaus calls him up to the stand in the trial, because he knows he'll want to talk in front of an audience, and can't imagine any way he wouldn't incriminate himself. And despite the Baudelaires' personal opinions of his ability, we've seen time and time again that he must be a good actor, because people always believe his performances. And as any good actor could tell you, it's crucial to be able to read your audience. If you want the best reaction, then you need to work out, as quickly as humanly possible, how they'll respond, and play up or tone down your performance accordingly. And he's spent so much time with VFD, with the Baudelaires, that he knows just what to say. He knows that, regardless of their reasons, they will feel guilty—in both the book and the show, they question if they're not just as bad as him! They did what they did to survive, and they genuinely worry that they're the same as the murderous, fortune-hungry beast that's been hunting them through their grief and fear. And he knows that. He wants to get in their heads, maybe just for fun, but mostly to get them to come to him. And the worst part is that it bloody works! They end up escaping with him, burning the hotel and potentially letting him out into the world, turning away from the good-hearted people trying to help them because if they can't trust anyone to be on their side, at least they can trust him not to be.

All this to say that, looking at his character, the writing of the show and the way the events unfold, while I can't give you a verbatim quote of what I think he would have said, I will say this: I wholeheartedly believe it would have been a short, targeted line to the Baudelaires, attacking them, their belief system, their very moral character. Because he didn't know he'd be allowed to speak at the trial—remember, it was only Klaus' fear and paranoia that put him on the stand in the first place—and as far as he knew, that could have been his last chance to ensure they'd come to him. He wasn't sure his previous words had been enough, and we all know he has a flair for the dramatic. Think back to one of the most chilling moments of the entire series, both in the book and show, at the end of the Bad Beginning. When the lights go out and he makes his escape, the Baudelaires would have still lived in fear of him, knowing he was on the loose, but that wasn't enough. He risked capture, risked losing his window of escape, all to torment Violet one last time; to plant that final seed of paranoia and fear into her mind, to whisper threats in the dark. And I have no doubt that, had he been given the chance, that is precisely what he would have done here.

By cutting him off, the Denouement gave the Baudelaires hope; hope that it might be different, hope that people wouldn't listen to him this time. But after all they'd been through, they couldn't risk not letting him talk—everyone always listens to him, in the end, and they had to make sure that everyone would finally believe them instead. And that very act of cutting him off, of not letting him give that final threat, is perhaps what sealed their fates. If Olaf's threat was fresh in their minds, they might have been too fearful to address him. If, like in the books, he'd eluded to his acquaintance with the High Court, they might have known what would happen. But he didn't get the chance, and neither did they.

[boyfridged]

the brilliance of jay's progression in countdown is that it gives you a promise of positive character development, and then it breaks it. and it does so intentionally, in the most diverting way, to emphasize jason's inability to escape the cycle.

or, another post breaking down the series, where i repeat myself a lot but also make a clearer argument.

there are three notable events that happen at the beginning: the subtle showcase of jay's internal conflict considering his approach toward killing (the very first encounter with duela and the monitor), jay reaching out to donna in crisis ("i guess I just wanted to be around someone else who might know how it feels…"), and finally – his helmet shattering. these scenes tell you: jason's direction as a character is changing, and it seems, for the better. he's about to abandon his trauma-based (no matter how ironic, it does remain tied to his trauma) identity, he is connecting with people, and he seems to be on a brink of understanding that his moral standing does not provide easy answers or solutions either.

and for the most part of the series, we see that narrative unfolding (even if a bit non-linear, still innocently convincing way). it is, in many ways, supported by bringing up features of his characterisation from the 80s. jason remains, of course, still unpleasant in ways typical for this era of writing, and is conflicted and disagreeable, which makes sense for his utrh/post-utrh personality. however, there are also details that bring us back to his original robin run and his cameos on ntt – we see him being responsible (e.g. #43 – suggesting to bring in other superheroes in crisis, even though he clearly is not keen on the idea of working with them), determined (#16: “isn’t that your super-power, stupid boy? too stupid to ever give up?” “maybe it is”), sensitive (half of the whole storyline, really), caring for gotham (gotham by gaslight) and people-oriented (as early as #51).

the issue that particularly signals that jason is an inherently good person and externalizes his internal conflicts regarding classic heroic vigilantism vs his cynical approach is #30, where we meet batman of earth-15 –  alt jason, whom our jason attempts to punch in the face.

and on topic of batman – jason is always gravitating towards batman. in gotham by gaslight jay looks delighted to see (the foreign) bruce and suggests checking with the local bat. then, earth-51 arc arrives.

earth-51 arc (#16 - #13) is a culmination of a promise of catharsis for jason. we have already seen him as batman, as a confirmation that a different life for him is possible. and here he has a chance to come to terms with his past and overcome it. he meets a version of bruce who has done exactly what he wanted him to do in utrh: killed the joker and the rest of the rogue gallery. what is most important – he is disappointed with this version of his father. we realise that jason, deep down, has an intimate and intuitive understanding of what batman stands for; and that he shares most of his values. this is a truth that you can't ignore especially since jay is the one to inspire this hollow, cynical version of batman to go out and fight in a seemingly lost battle.

and then batman dies. right in front of him.

this is a central moment of the narrative, for many reasons, most strikingly:

the symmetry:, a premise known from the lost days, becomes literal. this "the father had lost a son, and now the son had lost the father" is a cruel parallel to a death in the family and bruce's grief. jason's death created a gap between them that jay has been desperately trying to close, with no avail – because in bruce's mind, jason remains dead. now that jason is grieving bruce, the connection closes on both sides, and there's no way for either of them to reconcile the mourning with the reality of the other being truly alive. in this sense, the arc solidifies that jason can never come home.

no good deed goes unpunished. as i have mentioned before, so far jason is established as someone good at heart, but confused; and the reader intuitively assumes that his better, honest side will win. yet, the moment jason gives in to hope, it victimises and retraumatizes him. this event, again, brings to mind his own death, when he tried his best to save sheila and ended up paying the highest price for it. so, narrative-wise, jason is always punished for his kindness.

perhaps because of the nonchalant act that jason pulls off, many readers seem to miss that everything that happens after that arc is an upshot that follows logically from it.

jason's immediate determination to leave – and later a short period of indecision that ends up with his dramatic exit, pushing his team away, makes perfect sense when you consider what intense trauma he has just gone through. admittedly, i'm not a fan of the notion that he would give up at all (i think he's always ready to give up on himself, but not on the world), but then on the other hand, if there's anything that would cause it, narrative-wise, witnessing batman dying does sound like a good incentive for that. (it also has to be pointed out that jason seems to be confident that the rest of the team can go into the final battle without him anyway; it's not like he would go back to his earth not even knowing if said earth will exist tomorrow).

it's crucial to notice that following that crisis of faith (faith in fighting for the world) is followed by him raising up for the challenge again, but now... worse and even more confused. in the final confrontation with donna, jason antagonizes the superhero community, and when we see him at the end of the series (#1) his monologue indicates that he believes the capes to be naive. (significantly, he also focuses on bruce and offends the memory of 51 earth-bruce by calling him crazy; an action that can be seen as suppression of his own guilt and invoking, once again, a cruel symmetry considering bruce's engagement in victim-blaming after jason's death). this, once again, is consistent with the "no good deed" reading – jason diminishes superhero values because he has been continuously punished for living by them. (and unlike other superheroes, he doesn't have a support system nor skills in compartmentalization that would help him deal with this trauma) every leap of hope re-traumatised him. hence, it seems to be no surprise that jason decides to abandon the mask, and in the closing scene we see him without it. the promise of the shattered helmet is pushed to an extreme – jason does not get a new alt identity. he denounces the idea of superheroism completely.

and yet, what is ultimately subversive about the ending, is that jay is not truly a civilian and he does not abandon vigilante ways. he does the same thing. we see him without a mask, but he is clearly working a case. he might have rejected the symbolic dimension of the vigilante work, but he still carries the same delusional hope for bettering the world and protecting people that the superhero community does. only now, he is even more isolated and doesn't have any identity to go by (as he is still legally dead).

as such, the ending opens a new question regarding jason's understanding of himself and vigilantism, or rather the lack thereof. is it possible that vigilantism is really at the core of jay's trauma? and why, potentially, is it something that is so destructive for him as a character specifically? (and i have some answers for that, but i'm not going to get into it here, as it's already a very long post)

so, tldr; the genius of countdown is that it establishes jay as sensitive, determined, and fundamentally good (this is what the purpose of seeing him as batman is!), and then it brutally reminds the reader that jason’s tragedy is that on this specific earth, in this specific timeline, his love doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. the story goes on as it did; one way or another, jay is trapped in the cycle of his care ironically creating rifts between him and the others, and bringing him to his own downfall.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

If He Wanted To, He Would

July Prompt: Any Song Lyrics | Word Count: 2000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Eddie POV, Modern Setting, Sports AU, Rockstar Eddie, Baseball Player Steve, Very Public Love Affair, Corroded Coffin, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

I've used lyrics from Take Me Out to the Ball Game & Blank Space.

Even the news is covering it. 

That's fucking ridiculous. There's an animated graphic, a live tracker of where his plane is, a moving dot over the Atlantic, like it's Christmas Eve and he's Santa Claus.

Eddie's gonna make it. He was always gonna make it, even as the press ran the numbers, the miles, and milked every ounce of drama out of it.

He made game one, and game four, and now he's racing back from playing Wembley in London to make it for game seven. The media has tried to sell the idea that Steve wanted the World Series to go to seven, just so Eddie would be able to attend.

Eddie's glad he's getting to see it, of course he is, but if they could have swept it in four, or locked it down in five or six, that would have been fucking awesome. Even if that meant Eddie missed seeing it live, and had to watch on television, in the middle of the night, across the world.

There are a shitton of tiktoks every week, dissecting their every move, looking for easter eggs. Eddie is just living his life, even if a million people are always watching him like a fucking hawk.

Goodie is walking back from the beer garden in the stadium, carrying his plastic cup in his mouth as he fiddles with something in his hands. Not spilling a goddamn drop. Eddie can only see this because he's being broadcast onto the stadium jumbotron.

When he climbs the stairs into the suite, Eddie asks, "Where's Gareth?"

"Got spotted. Now he's taking pictures. I just slipped away unnoticed. Sucker," Goodie says, putting his cup down on the table.

"Unnoticed, huh?" Eddie teases. He won't tell him. He'll just wait until Goodie sees it online for himself. "There's free beer back there you know?" Eddie asks. Neither one of them needed to venture out into the crowd.

Goodie shrugs, "I wanted this kind."

He could have had that kind, could have had any kind, if he'd just asked for it. But no, he wanted to be out among the people. 

None of them are particularly fond of baseball, but they are fond of Steve, so here they are. The whole band doesn't always come, but it's the championship game, so they did.

And the score has been 1-0 forever. 

Wayne is pacing. Unlike them, he loves baseball, even if he's been a little turncoat, switching teams like a lifetime of dedication meant nothing at all. He's gotten a little shit from his friends back home, but Eddie thinks it's honestly very sweet. Eddie loves that Wayne likes Steve enough to put him and his team as his number one with a bullet, now.

It helps that Steve's part of a fucking dynasty. It's fun to win, even Eddie gets that.

Wayne doesn't always hang out in suites. More often than not, he'd rather sit in the stands. Focus on the baseball, not the celebrity that's now surrounding it. But Wayne's been dragged into their highly publicized love affair, and now he's starting to get recognized all on his own, so Eddie worries. 

Plus, he'd rather have him right here, where they can spend time together.

"What's the count?" Eddie asks. 

"3-2," Wayne answers.

Eddie's distracted, filling his plate with the various appetizers that came with the steep price of the private suite. Sliders, pigs in a blanket, and all kinds of other fancified versions of comfort food. He's just scooping some mac & cheese on his plate when he hears his main guitar riff from Buckwild. He puts down his plate, making his way to the big windows just in time to see Steve step towards the batter's box. 

Steve only changes his walk-up music to Corroded Coffin when Eddie's in attendance. He currently walks-up to Milkshake, which is fucking hilarious. He's one of the first openly out players, and he really leans into it, changing up his walk-up music, usually to something a little queer. Eddie knows it's partially to poke fun at himself first, before anyone else can. 

But tonight, it's his song. Eddie's sure he's being broadcast on the jumbotron from some camera he can't even see, and may even be on live television. Eddie watches as Steve briefly points his bat, and at first Eddie thinks Steve's calling his shot, but no. Not unless he's intending to hit a foul ball.

No, he gestured at Eddie. At least where he assumed Eddie would be.

Eddie fiddles with the rings on his hand, moving from finger to finger, twisting them around and around as Steve swings and misses for the second time. Eddie can hardly watch, it makes him so nervous.

"What's the count?" Eddie asks. It's the only question he knows to ask.

"2-2," Wayne says from somewhere behind him. Wayne doesn't stand at the front when it's likely the camera is on them. Eddie gets it, he does, but he'd like him at his side. The windows are open tonight, and the fans in the seats in front of the suite have leaned up to talk to them, to get things signed, and Eddie has done it. They all have. Waving off security.

Nobody is being shitty, just excited, and Eddie's grateful he's been accepted by most of Steve's fans. There was always the fear that he'd be seen as a distraction, and sure, that's been a bit of the narrative, but Steve's in the goddamn World Series. His head is obviously still in the game.

Eddie signed a custom Corroded Coffin jersey with Steve's number on the back earlier, and if that wasn't fucking weird and delightful. And Harrington jerseys have been increasingly spotted at their gigs, from one in the crowd, to a dozen or more.

Steve takes the next ball, and Eddie was terrible at baseball as a kid. He swung at everything. He never had the self-control to wait for something good. 

He's glad he grew out of that, at least a little, because he waited, and now he has Steve. A goddamn home run in human form. 

Eddie's relieved when he hears the crack of the bat finally making contact with the ball, and he watches intently until Steve's safely on first, Eddie leaning out of the open box window, hanging onto the frame, screaming.

He rights himself, clapping hard as he spins in a circle, screaming some more.

Then, Eddie watches as Steve steals second on a wild pitch, and the stadium sound system blares to life with Gimme Three Steps.

Steve dusts himself off from his slide in, and Eddie is so fucking smitten. 

And his ass looks damn good in those pants. His milkshake did bring Eddie to the yard.

It's the seventh-inning stretch, and Eddie hears the familiar, "for it's one, two, three strikes, you're out," being sung by the entire stadium.

He's nervous now. More nervous than he ever is going on stage anymore.

They've made it this far, and he wants Steve to win the whole thing. 

They do win. Steve fielded a grounder, whipped it to first base, and with one last out, it was finally over. Gloves being thrown in the air, lots of hugs and jumping up and down.

Steve did it.

And Eddie smiles.

Steve isn't released, not yet. There'll be interviews, and a parade that Eddie unfortunately can't attend, so Eddie only gets a few minutes in the tunnel with him. Some stolen kisses and a silly groped handful, just giving Steve's cup a squeeze, to make him laugh. 

It's all too brief, but he'll see him soon. 

They go from the game straight back to the airport, Goodie and Gareth both pretty drunk after too many celebratory shots, leaving Jeff and him to babysit as they get wheels up, to head back across the pond. Their world tour, waiting.

They'll make it. 

Steve swears jet-lag is a choice, and Eddie's choosing to believe him.

Another city, and his turn on the big stage, as Eddie looks out towards the VIP tent. Steve waves with both hands over his head, making himself larger, more easily seen.

Steve attended a few Monday shows with Robin, when their schedules lined up enough to allow it. But now his season is over. He's a fucking world champion, and it's the offseason, which is Eddie's new favorite word.

If he'd known he'd fall in love with a sportsball guy, he would have made sure their tour had a lengthy break during this magical offseason.

Next year.

And Eddie is confident that next year is a given. That's how in he is with their relationship, with Steve. They both have their own lives, their own fame, their own increasingly busy schedules. But they make it work, because they want it to work.

The fans have dubbed all their crisscrossing travel as "if he wanted to, he would" and have been straight up swooning. 

Eddie likes that thought, because he does want to, and he knows Steve wants to, too.

He's committed to this thing, and so is Steve. And if that means flying for hours to be there for the important shit, even if you have to turn around and fly right back, well fuck, you do it. And you don't even think about it.

Eddie slips in a pop cover, mid-set, just being silly, because he wants to shout out Steve a little bit extra tonight. He sings and when he gets to "'cause you know I love the players, and you love the game" and the crowd gets behind it. Steve, too, if his hands in the air are any indication. 

He's a pop girlie at heart, and Eddie loves him for it.

Steve is comfortable in his own skin, and he likes what he likes. He's supportive of Eddie, of Corroded Coffin, and very demonstrative with his affection and admiration. The love is always free-flowing. But, heavy metal isn't his thing. Not really. And that's okay.

So, a little pop is injected for his benefit, Eddie saying 'I love you for who you are' right back.

Buckwild is last, is always last, and Steve's here, so that means a subtle lyric change. He only does it when Steve's in attendance, and it makes the crowd go wild. Changing one word is enough to send them into a frenzy, like they're part of something special and sacred.

They are.

When he approaches the lyric, Steve has moved closer, right at the stage, in front of the barricade, and puts his hand up to his ear, hyping the crowd, getting ready for it, and Eddie can hardly sing through his fucking smile.

When they exit the stage, the first face he sees is Steve's, and Steve opens his arms and Eddie hugs him, pulling back and kissing him, over and over.

He's the one. 

The one he loves.

The one he'll marry.

The one. Period.

Steve waves to the crowd that's gathered to watch, and then he puts his arm around Eddie's waist, ushering him away, one more show over.

In bed, Eddie rests his head against Steve's bare chest. These last few weeks have been different, brand new, and exciting. It's the first time they've really gotten to feel like they're coming home to each other. Getting to be in the same place for an extended period of time, Steve following the tour.

Steve brushes Eddie's bangs off his face, and kisses his forehead.

"You were amazing tonight," Steve whispers, and Eddie grins. 

"So were you, working the crowd," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, and Eddie loves it. Steve's not shy. He's had all the media training, probably more than Eddie, because he's got a brand, a team, to protect. Eddie just runs his mouth at-will, always has.

Steve doesn't hide backstage where Eddie can't see him, no, he always makes sure he's supporting Eddie out loud and with his whole goddamn chest.

So, because he wants to, he does.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

Notes: Obviously inspired by the very public relationship of Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce. Goodie carrying the beer in his teeth is straight up a shoutout to Jason Kelce doing that at the Eras tour. 🍺

This one was so hard to stop writing for at the 2k max word count, lol.

[alltoomaples]

Speed of Science🧬💻💌

I'm dating a STEM girlie and you're not (F1 Edition)

a/n: and im baaaaaacccckkkkk (like anyone even missed me lmao) with the long overdue request! life of a postgrad StEm girlie here and the struggle is really realll af. but besides that, I'm writing this down as a headcanon for the drivers requested on this poll i had posted long back here. I've always wondered how there's soo minimal povs/ocs where they are a scientific researcher, analyst, etc. sooo i dedicate this one to all the STEM F1 girlies out theree <33

alsoo quick shoutout to my girlieee @smoooothoperator for inspiring and motivating me to get back at writing!🥹🫶🏼 check out her lastest ongoing work 'What Was I Made For? ' its amazing and thats a FACT!! do check her works! its absolutely amazing❤️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

Scientific Art Illustrator - Charles Leclerc

As a Scientific Art Illustrator, you specialize in creating visually captivating and scientifically accurate illustrations that depict complex biological, astronomical, or technological subjects.

Charles first discovered you through your works at an exhibition where their stunning illustrations of Formula 1 cars caught his eye. Impressed by their attention to detail and artistic talent, they struck up a conversation about their mutual love for precision and creativity.

During a peaceful weekend afternoon, Charles suggests a spontaneous visit to a local art supply store. Excitedly exploring aisles stocked with vibrant paints, fine brushes, and specialized papers, the two of you engage in discussions about artistic techniques and innovative tools. Amidst laughter and shared enthusiasm for creativity, you bond over your mutual appreciation for the intricacies of art and science, making the afternoon a cherished memory of their shared passions.

After being away from home during race season, Charles always finds a framed series of sketches by you for the races you couldn't make it, capturing his most memorable racing moments. Each sketch is intricately detailed, depicting not only the speed and intensity of the races but also the emotions and determination etched on Charles' face. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Charles hangs the sketches in his study, a constant reminder of your support and admiration for his passion.

...

Data Scientist - Lando Norris

A Data Scientist specializes in analyzing large volumes of data using statistical methods and machine learning techniques to extract insights and make data-driven decisions.

You and Lando first connected through a mutual fascination with racing data at a technology symposium focused on sports analytics. Your presentation on advanced predictive modelling in motorsports caught Lando's attention for its innovative approach to enhancing race strategies.

During a cosy evening at home, Lando playfully challenges you to a friendly data analysis competition using real-time telemetry from previous races. Their banter and shared excitement over dissecting racing data create a lighthearted and memorable bonding experience.

You two would watch old races and analyze historical racing data together, playfully debating optimal pit stop strategies and analyzing driver performance trends, their shared passion for racing and data fostering a deep connection and mutual admiration.

...

Oceanographer/Marine Biologist - Oscar Piastri

An Oceanographer or Marine Biologist studies marine life, ecosystems, and ocean processes to understand and protect marine environments and resources.

You and Oscar crossed paths during a research expedition to study coral reefs in a remote location. Your expertise in marine biology and passion for conservation impressed Oscar, sparking their connection.

Amidst the hectic F1 season, Oscar surprises you with a weekend getaway to a coastal retreat, where they explore tide pools and participate in a beach cleanup together, reaffirming their commitment to environmental stewardship.

You gave Oscar a custom-made charm bracelet featuring miniature charms of marine animals they've discussed during their beach walks and conservation talks. Each charm represents a meaningful moment in their relationship, from their first discussion about oceanography to their shared admiration for marine life. Oscar wears the bracelet during race weekends as a reminder of you and all the love and support you give, both on and off the track.

...

Mechanical Engineer - Daniel Riccardo

You are a passionate Mechanical Engineer, specializing in advanced automotive design and performance optimization.

Daniel first encountered you at a technical conference organized by one of the team sponsors where you presented groundbreaking research on aerodynamic innovations that caught his attention.

Often, while you meticulously draft engineering schematics at their home office, he makes sure that you have your "engineering emergency kit" beside your workstation, which is a tray of snacks and their favourite coffee – ensuring they're fueled for their late-night brainstorming sessions. For when he's away for races, he stacks them up with small cute notes.

Before Daniel heads to a crucial race, you surprise him with a meticulously crafted miniature replica of his race car, complete with detailed decals and a personalized message of encouragement engraved on the base. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Daniel proudly displays it in his motorhome, a reminder of the reader's unwavering support both on and off the track.

...

Statistician - George Russell

A Statistician specializes in collecting, analyzing, and interpreting numerical data to help organizations and individuals make informed decisions.

You and Russell first crossed paths during a university seminar on advanced statistical modeling in sports. Your insightful analysis of Formula 1 race data caught George's attention, sparking a lively discussion that led to mutual admiration for each other's analytical skills and shared passion for racing statistics.

During a particularly demanding race weekend, the reader surprises George with a meticulously prepared statistical analysis report highlighting his strengths and areas for improvement based on recent race data. This thoughtful gesture boosts George's confidence and motivation, showing the reader's support in his pursuit of excellence.

During a weekend getaway, you guys stumble upon a local go-kart track. George, always up for a challenge, suggests they have a friendly race. Knowing George's competitive spirit, you secretly calculate his optimal strategy and surprise him by winning with a perfectly executed last-minute overtaking maneuver. George is impressed by the your strategic thinking and playfulness, and they share a lighthearted and joyous moment celebrating their shared love for racing and friendly competition.

...

Astrophysicist - Logan Sargeant

An Astrophysicist studies the physical properties, behavior, and evolution of celestial objects such as stars, planets, galaxies, and the universe as a whole, using principles of physics and astronomy.

Logan and you first crossed paths during an expedition to study a rare astronomical event—a comet passing close to Earth. Both passionate about astrophysics, you found yourselves sharing a telescope at a remote observatory, marveling at the comet's beauty and discussing its celestial significance late into the night. Their shared awe and intellectual connection sparked a mutual admiration that grew into a deep bond over their shared passion for exploring the wonders of the cosmos.

During a quiet evening at home, Logan excitedly shows you a new telescope he acquired for stargazing during race weekends, expressing his eagerness to learn more about the cosmos together and sharing their enthusiasm for both racing and astrophysics in equal measure.

Before a critical race weekend, the reader surprises Logan with a personalized star chart that maps out the night sky above the upcoming race venue during the race weekend. Each star on the chart is marked with a heartfelt message of encouragement, reminding Logan of their unwavering support and belief in his abilities on and off the track. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Logan treasures the star chart as a symbol of the reader's love and encouragement throughout his racing career.

...

Climate Scientist - Lance Stroll

A Climate Scientist studies climate patterns, environmental changes, and their impacts on Earth's ecosystems, using data analysis and modeling to understand and address global climate challenges.

Lance crossed paths with you at an eco-friendly racing event where Lance was advocating for sustainable practices in motorsport. Being a respected climate scientist, you caught Lance's attention with your insightful presentation on the environmental impact of racing and innovative solutions for reducing carbon footprints in the sport. Their shared passion for sustainability sparked an immediate connection and admiration for each other's dedication to making a positive impact on the environment.

One weekend, Lance surprises you with a homemade dinner featuring sustainably sourced ingredients, proudly showcasing his culinary skills while discussing ways to reduce your carbon footprint. His earnest commitment to sustainability and your shared vision for a healthier planet melts your heart, making this a cherished moment you both treasure.

You, being deeply involved in climate science, often spends late nights analyzing data or writing research papers. One evening, Lance bring him a cozy blanket and a mug of your favorite hot beverage, quietly sitting beside him as he works. You look up from your laptop, touched by his thoughtfulness, and pulls him into a warm embrace, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding of your demanding but vital work.

...

taglist: @lndonrris @thatgirlmj @lwstuff @dannyramirezwife-f1dump @moonypixel tysm for your suggestions! apologies on taking this long to write😅🫶🏼

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed reading this! this was my first time writing a headcanon and for f1 drivers beside charles and lando so hope i did justice to all.

i'm being wanting to read some good domestic bliss, sweet, adorable and lovey dovey blurbs, fics of lando (i talked abt it here) soo maybe i'll work on some drafts at some point cause i'm currently in the middle of project work of my masters degree soo don't know when i'll be posting soo until next time, see yaaa and going back to read mode 👋💓✨️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

[tommycorriander]

Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, And Disability

I am disabled. This is something I've talked about a handful of times on this blog and on my Twitter, and anyone who knows me knows I am a disabled man. As a result, while I do enjoy dissecting media and politics, the need to be an advocate for disability issues would have fallen on me to some extent regardless. Disabled folks are often left out of conversations regarding diversity in media, in a continued oversight from able bodied peers.

What does this have to do with the Hellaverse?

Both shows contain at least some small amount of disability representation; specifically, they both have characters that are physically disabled. In Hazbin Hotel this is Vaggie, as she is missing an eye and prior to the finale had lost her wings. In Helluva Boss, the characters would be Fizzarolli, a quad amputee, and the unnamed deaf child in the special. The only character I ever see talked about in regards to their disability by the wider fanbase is the unnamed child, and on a smaller scale in critical spaces I occasionally see remarks on Fizzarolli's disability.

This is a problem.

For as much as fans of one or both shows would love to claim diversity in their shows, the lack of disability representation and the lackluster portrayal of the minimal representation is poor. And I haven't seen any of my fellow critics discuss this, which I feel is an oversight, though I don't fault them for this as there are many problems with both shows and they tend to have their hands full. However, this angle of viewing the shows has been overlooked, which is why I wish to discuss it today.

Firstly, I'd like to specify what I mean when I discuss disability. While the conversation regarding the Hellaverse is primarily centered around physical disability as this is the only form of disability portrayed in the shows, coded or otherwise, disability comes in many different forms. Intellectual disabilities and mental disabilities are just as important for representation in the media as physical disabilities. Among physical disabilities, there's also a difference in visible and invisible disabilities, the latter of which is hardly ever shown in media compared to the former. Ideally all forms of disability would be portrayed equally and with respect, but unfortunately this isn't the case. I also don't expect every show to tackle every demographic at once; this isn't a reasonable request, and to be very clear, my issue with the representation in HH/HB does not come from every single unique experience with disability not being covered, but rather with the narrative the creatives behind the show and the show's fans continue to push: that both shows are diverse and are, in some way, more progressive than other shows.

This isn't the case for many reasons. Fellow critics have gone into depth about the show's lack of representation of women in nuanced roles, the lack of queer women, the racist ways in which the very few characters of colour are presented, the lack of trans representation, and even the way sex and sexuality is presented being rather conservative at times. That isn't the focus of this essay, but I would implore anyone who is reading this who is somehow unaware of the previous issues to seek out essays that talk about those points; Cassidy Whiskey on YouTube has a three-part series that covers a multitude of topics, not just issues of representation, and I would have recommended helluvareceipts on Twitter, but her account has sadly been deactivated. I'm sure there are others, but I'll lose focus if I try to name every single person to go to. If you're willing to trawl through general pettiness in the critical tag (which, let's be real, that is probably how you found this post) you'll find well-worded critiques as well.

Back to the topic at hand. The lack of representation of people with disabilities is already frustrating, but there isn't a complete drought: Vaggie, Fizzarolli, and the unnamed imp child do exist, after all. However, their representation is not just flawed, but even exploitative in some ways.

First we have Vaggie. Aside from the visual of her missing eye and seeing the incident in which she lost that eye, nothing comes of it. She never has to contend with the difficulties that come with impaired sight, and it's never brought up by other characters. In the training scene between her and Carmilla, it's not a factor: instead, her greater flaw in the physical realm when it comes to combat is having longer hair. This is an extreme oversight, which I believe shows that Vivienne and the various writers for the show never actually take into consideration what should be a major element of a character, that being her impaired vision. Furthermore, the loss of her wings isn't even considered at all, with her somehow gaining them back at the end of her training montage with Carmilla. This could have been an excellent vector to discuss physical disability in a coded form, with her wings being a stand in for more traditional forms of limb loss. Still not ideal, as I believe it's better to have forthright depictions of disability over metaphors, but it would have been something. Instead, it's never a factor, and worse, it's effectively cured. As far as representation goes, Vaggie might as well not even count.

That's all that exists for Hazbin Hotel. In Helluva Boss, we have two characters, and I will save the unnamed child for last, because that is where the real issue with the representation is on full display.

So, Fizzarolli. He is a quad amputee and potentially hearing impaired, though the latter is speculated on due to a single scene which I discuss later. Since that scene is the only time it ever comes up, I will focus on his amputee status. He lost his limbs in a fire, something we see on screen. I will disagree with some of my fellow critics in that this scene should have been more detailed; I feel that had the scene shown more of the damage dealt to Fizz's body it would have come across in poor taste, and focusing on the tragic aspect of disability usually ends up feeling like trauma porn in the hands of poor writers, which Vivienne most certainly is. I do not trust her to handle a more detailed scene with grace, especially given her track record (more on that later). It is ultimately for the best that the scene is mostly brushed over, even if it would have been better in the hands of someone with the maturity and sensitivity to cover such a topic for more to be shown in regards to his injuries.

Otherwise, Fizzarolli is mostly fine. He's shown not just surviving but thriving, he has a loving partner (criticisms of the portrayal of said relationship not withstanding) and generally sees success in his life while still having to grapple with the realities of his disability when it comes to his prosthetics being prone to damage and potentially shutting down. I would, in the hands of anyone else, like to see more of this character and what his daily routine looks like as a disabled man.

Unfortunately all the good will built with Fizz comes crashing down when we get to the unnamed imp child in the Fizzarolli special episode. This child is the poster child for virtue signalling. Frankly, it's disgusting how a majority of the fandom seemed to ignore how fetishistic this portrayal was. This is where the real meat of the essay comes in to play.

This unnamed child is given a single scene, and is then promptly forgotten about and never mentioned again. They are introduced as being a fan of Fizz here to view the competition, there is a brief exchange between the two, and then we all move on. And yet this scene was championed as somehow revolutionary or a sign of the top-tier diversity and progressiveness in Helluva, when in reality this type of scene has been done to death. This is tokenism.

One major stumbling block many of the people championing this scene seem to get tripped up on is a very simple question: why was this child a child to begin with? Really, this seems like a simple question, it shouldn't have much thought. Sometimes characters are kids. But within the episode it's clearly shown through multiple different avenues that this is an adult show. The performances are dripping with sexuality, several of the fans of Fizzarolli are there because Mammon sells sex robots of the guy, there is no mistaking that this is something no child should be at, let alone by themselves.

So why was this child a child? Simple: brownie points.

It's a lot more difficult for people to share clips of a wholesome moment from your show if the person Fizz was interacting with was an adult. People are ableist, this is pretty par for the course; as a disabled person I find it generally safer to assume people are ableist before proven otherwise. I can guarantee if this scene were to be between Fizzarolli and a deaf adult fan as opposed to a young child, it would not have been championed as this amazing representation by mostly able bodied fans. And that is by design: if Vivienne genuinely cared about representation, if she truly wanted to show something meaningful to her adult fans in her adult show, she would have had the interaction be with an adult. But that doesn't get her clip shared around on social media. That doesn't get her brownie points for inclusion. It's safe, it's palatable, it's sickeningly wholesome, and it's insulting for that. This is a show for adults, something Vivienne and company is adamant on, and yet they treat their audience like children. As a fan, you should be insulted to have this key-jingling one minute clip presented to you. You should demand more, demand better.

Unfortunately I do not see ever getting better from Vivienne. She has made it very clear she truly does not care about creating art, she really only stumbled into being championed as a paragon for animation because her majority white and able bodied fans saw the inclusion of primarily gay men and thought that was good enough. She does not give a damn about disabled people, and she never will. To expect good disabled representation from her is like expecting good queer representation from a Marvel movie; she is in it for the money, and it just so happens that the inclusion of that scene makes money.

Addendum thoughts that were too long to put into the tags: I would like to make it clear that disability, because it presents very differently, is experienced very differently by many different people. If you felt seen or represented by the disability representation in either show, that's fine, and I don't want you to feel bad for feeling seen. Ultimately disabled people are largely given scraps; I have not once seen someone with my particular physical disability portrayed in media. Sometimes we latch onto things that are subpar or lacking; my criticism of reception to this scene is targeted primarily at able bodied audience members who may be lacking in this perspective and to also champion fellow disabled people to rightfully demand and expect better. Thank you for your time.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Inkjump Linkdump

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

It's the start of a long weekend and I've found myself with a backlog of links, so it's time for another linkdump – the eighteenth in the (occasional) series. Here's the previous installments:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Kicking off this week's backlog is a piece of epic lawyer-snark, which is something I always love, but what makes this snark total catnip for me is that it's snark about copyfraud: false copyright claims made to censor online speech. Yes please and a second portion, thank you very much!

This starts with the Cola Corporation, a radical LA-based design store that makes lefty t-shirts, stickers and the like. Cola made a t-shirt that remixed the LA Lakers logo to read "Fuck the LAPD." In response, the LAPD's private foundation sent a nonsense copyright takedown letter. Cola's lawyer, Mike Dunford, sent them a chef's-kiss-perfect reply, just two words long: "LOL, no":

https://www.techdirt.com/2024/04/19/apparel-company-gives-perfect-response-to-lapds-nonsense-ip-threat-letter-over-fuck-the-lapd-shirt/

But that's not the lawyer snark I'm writing about today. Dunford also sent a letter to IMG Worldwide, whose lawyers sent the initial threat, demanding an explanation for this outrageous threat, which was – as the physicists say – "not even wrong":

https://www.loweringthebar.net/2024/05/lol-no-explained.html

Every part of the legal threat is dissected here, with lavish, caustic footnotes, mercilessly picking apart the legal defects, including legally actionable copyfraud under DMCA 512(f), which provides for penalties for wrongful copyright threats. To my delight, Dunford cited Lenz here, which is the infamous "Dancing Baby" case that EFF successfully litigated on behalf of Stephanie Lenz, whose video of her adorable (then-)toddler dancing to a few seconds of Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" was censored by Universal Music Group:

https://www.eff.org/cases/lenz-v-universal

Dunford's towering rage is leavened with incredulous demands for explanations: how on Earth could a lawyer knowingly send such a defective, illegal threat? Why shouldn't Dunford seek recovery of his costs from IMG and its client, the LA Police Foundation, for such lawless bullying? It is a sparkling – incandescent, even! – piece of lawyerly writing. If only all legal correspondence was this entertaining! Every 1L should study this.

Meanwhile, Cola has sold out of everything, thanks to that viral "LOL, no." initial response letter. They're taking orders for their next resupply, shipping on June 1. Gotta love that Streisand Effect!

https://www.thecolacorporation.com/

I'm generally skeptical of political activism that takes the form of buying things or refusing to do so. "Voting with your wallet" is a pretty difficult trick to pull off. After all, the people with the thickest wallets get the most votes, and generally, the monopoly party wins. But as the Cola Company's example shows, there's times when shopping can be a political act.

But that's because it's a collective act. Lots of us went and bought stuff from Cola, to send a message to the LAPD about legal bullying. That kind of collective action is hard to pull off, especially when it comes to purchase-decisions. Often, this kind of thing descends into a kind of parody of political action, where you substitute shopping for ideology. This is where Matt Bors's Mr Gotcha comes in: "ooh, you want to make things better, but you bought a product from a tainted company, I guess you're not really sincere, gotcha!"

https://thenib.com/mister-gotcha/

There's a great example of this in Zephyr Teachout's brilliant 2020 book Break 'Em Up: if you miss the pro-union demonstration at the Amazon warehouse because you spent two hours driving around looking for an indie stationer to buy the cardboard to make your protest sign rather than buying it from Amazon, Amazon wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

So yeah, I'm pretty skeptical of consumerism as a framework for political activism. It's very hard to pull off an effective boycott, especially of a monopolist. But if you can pull it off, well…

Canada is one of the most monopoly-friendly countries in the world. Hell, the Competition Act doesn't even have an "abuse of dominance" standard! That's like a criminal code that doesn't have a section prohibiting "murder." (The Trudeau government has promised to fix this.)

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/opinion/editorials/article-an-overhauled-competition-act-will-light-a-fire-in-the-stolid-world-of/

There's stiff competition for Most Guillotineable Canadian Billionaire. There's the entire Irving family, who basically own the province of New Bruinswick:

https://www.canadaland.com/podcast/dynasties-2-the-irvings/

There's Ted Rogers, the trumpy billionaire telecoms monopolist, whose serial acquire-and-loot approach to media has devastated Canadian TV and publishing:

https://www.canadaland.com/podcast/canadaland-725-the-rogers-family-compact/

But then there's Galen Fucking Weston, the nepobaby who inherited the family grocery business (including Loblaw), bought out all his competitors (including Shopper's Drug Mart), and then engaged in a criminal price-fixing conspiracy to rig the price of bread, the most Les-Miz-ass crime imaginable:

https://www.blogto.com/eat_drink/2023/06/what-should-happened-galen-weston-price-fixing/

Weston has made himself the face of the family business, appearing in TV ads in a cardigan to deliver dead-eyed avuncular paeans to his sprawling empire, even as he colludes with competitors to rig the price of his workers' wages:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-06-12/a-supermarket-billionaire-steps-into-trouble-over-pandemic-wages

For Canadians, Weston is the face of greedflation, the man whose nickle-and-diming knows no shame. This is the man who decided that the discount on nearly-spoiled produce would be slashed from 50% to 30%, who racked up record profits even as his prices skyrocketed.

It's impossible to overstate how loathed Galen Weston is at this moment. There's a very good episode of the excellent new podcast Lately, hosted by Canadian competition expert Vass Bednar and Katrina Onstad that gives you a sense of the national outrage:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/podcasts/lately/article-boycotting-the-loblawpoly/

All of this has led to a national boycott of Loblaw, kicked off by members of the r/loblawsisoutofcontrol, and it's working. Writing for Jacobin, Jeremy Appel gives us a snapshot of a nation in revolt:

https://jacobin.com/2024/05/loblaw-grocery-price-gouge-boycott/

Appel points out the boycott's problems – there's lots of places, particularly in the north, where Loblaw's is the only game in town, or where the sole competitor is the equally odious Walmart. But he also talks about the beneficial effect the boycott is having for independent grocers and co-ops who deal more fairly with their suppliers and their customers.

He also platforms the boycott's call for a national system of price controls on certain staples. This is something that neoliberal economists despise, and it's always fun to watch them lose their minds when the subject is raised. Meanwhile, economists like Isabella M Weber continue to publish careful research explaining how and why price controls can work, and represent our best weapon against "seller's inflation":

https://scholarworks.umass.edu/econ_workingpaper/343/

Antimonopoly sentiment is having a minute, obviously, and the news comes at you fast. This week, the DoJ filed a lawsuit to break up Ticketmaster/Live Nation, one of the country's most notorious monopolists, who have aroused the ire of every kind of fan, but especially the Swifties (don't fuck with Swifties). In announcing the suit, DoJ Antitrust Division boss Jonathan Kanter coined the term "Ticketmaster tax" to describe the junk fees that Ticketmaster uses to pick all our pockets.

In response, Ticketmaster has mobilized its own Loblaw-like shill army, who insist that all the anti-monopoly activism is misguided populism, and "anti-business." In his BIG newsletter, Matt Stoller tears these claims apart, and provides one of the clearest explanations of how Ticketmaster rips us all off that I've ever seen, leaning heavily on Ticketmaster's own statements to their investors and the business-press:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/antitrust-enforcers-to-break-up-ticketmaster

Ticketmaster has a complicated "flywheel" that it uses to corner the market on live events, mixing low-margin businesses that are deliberately kept unprofitable (to prevent competitors from gaining a foothold) in order to capture the high-margin businesses that are its real prize. All this complexity can make your eyes glaze over, and that's to Ticketmaster's benefit, keeping normies from looking too closely at how this bizarre self-licking ice-cream cone really works.

But for industry insiders, those workings are all too clear. When Rebecca Giblin and I were working on our book Chokepoint Capitalism, we talked to insiders from every corner of the entertainment-industrial complex, and there was always at least one expert who'd go on record about the scams inside everything from news monopolies to streaming video to publishing and the record industry:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

The sole exception was Ticketmaster/Live Nation. When we talked to club owners, promoters and other victims of TM's scam, they universally refused to go on the record. They were palpably terrified of retaliation from Ticketmaster's enforcers. They acted like mafia informants seeking witness protection. Not without reason, mind you: back when the TM monopoly was just getting started, Pearl Jam – then one of the most powerful acts in American music – took a stand against them. Ticketmaster destroyed them. That was when TM was a mere hatchling, with a bare fraction of the terrifying power it wields today.

TM is a great example of the problem with boycotts. If a club or an act refuses to work with TM/LN, they're destroyed. If a fan refuses to buy tickets from TM or see a Live Nation show, they basically can't go to any shows. The TM monopoly isn't a problem of bad individual choices – it's a systemic problem that needs a systemic response.

That's what makes antitrust responses so timely. Federal enforcers have wide-ranging powers, and can seek remedies that consumerism can never attain – there's no way a boycott could result in a breakup of Ticketmaster/Live Nation, but a DoJ lawsuit can absolutely get there.

Every federal agency has wide-ranging antimonopoly powers at its disposal. These are laid out very well in Tim Wu's 2020 White House Executive Order on competition, which identifies 72 ways the agencies can act against monopoly without having to wait for Congress:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

But of course, the majority of antimonopoly power is vested in the FTC, the agency created to police corporate power. Section 5 of the FTC Act grants the agency the power to act to prevent "unfair and deceptive methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

This clause has lain largely dormant since the Reagan era, but FTC chair Lina Khan has revived it, using it to create muscular privacy rights for Americans, and to ban noncompete agreements that bind American workers to dead-end jobs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/25/capri-v-tapestry/#aiming-at-dollars-not-men

The FTC's power to ban activity because it's "unfair and deceptive" is exciting, because it promises American internet users a way to solve their problems beyond copyright law. Copyright law is basically the only law that survived the digital transition, even as privacy, labor and consumer protection rights went into hibernation. The last time Congress gave us a federal consumer privacy law was 1988, and it's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

That's left internet users desperately trying to contort copyright to solve every problem they have – like someone trying to build a house using nothing but chainsaw. For example, I once found someone impersonating me on a dating site, luring strangers into private spaces. Alarmed, I contacted the dating site, who told me that their only fix for this was for me to file a copyright claim against the impersonator to make them remove the profile photo. Now, that photo was Creative Commons licensed, so any takedown notice would have been a "LOL, no." grade act of copyfraud:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/the-internets-original-sin/

The unsuitability of copyright for solving complex labor and privacy problems hasn't stopped people who experience these problems from trying to use copyright to solve them. They've got nothing else, after all.

That's why everyone who's worried about the absolutely legitimate and urgent concerns over AI and labor and privacy has latched onto copyright as the best tool for resolving these questions, despite copyright's total unsuitability for this purpose, and the strong likelihood that this will make these problems worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

Enter FTC Chair Lina Khan, who has just announced that her agency will be reviewing AI model training as an "unfair and deceptive method of competition":

https://thehill.com/policy/technology/4682461-ftc-chair-ai-models-could-violate-antitrust-laws/

If the agency can establish this fact, they will have sweeping powers to craft rules prohibiting the destructive and unfair uses of AI, without endangering beneficial activities like scraping, mathematical analysis, and the creation of automated systems that help with everything from adding archival metadata to exonerating wrongly convicted people rotting in prison:

https://hrdag.org/tech-notes/large-language-models-IPNO.html

I love this so much. Khan's announcement accomplishes the seemingly impossible: affirming that there are real problems and insisting that we employ tactics that can actually fix those problems, rather than just doing something because inaction is so frustrating.

That's something we could use a lot more of, especially in platform regulation. The other big tech news about Big Tech last week was the progress of a bill that would repeal Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act at the end of 2025, without any plans to replace it with something else.

Section 230 is the most maligned, least understood internet law, and that's saying something:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Its critics wrongly accuse the law – which makes internet users liable for bad speech acts, not the platforms that carry that speech – of being a gift to Big Tech. That's totally wrong. Without Section 230, platforms could be named to lawsuits arising from their users' actions. We know how that would play out.

Back in 2018, Congress took a big chunk out of 230 when they passed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that makes platforms liable for any sex trafficking that is facilitated by their platforms. Now, this may sound like a narrowly targeted, beneficial law that aims at a deplorable, unconscionable crime. But here's how it played out: the platforms decided that it was too much trouble to distinguish sex trafficking from any sex-work, including consensual sex work and adjacent activities. The result? Consensual sex-work became infinitely more dangerous and precarious, while trafficking was largely unaffected:

https://www.gao.gov/assets/gao-21-385.pdf

Eliminating 230 would be incredibly reckless under any circumstances, but after the SESTA/FOSTA experience, it's unforgivable. The Big Tech platforms will greet this development by indiscriminately wiping out any kind of controversial speech from marginalized groups (think #MeToo or Black Lives Matter). Meanwhile, the rich and powerful will get a new tool – far more powerful than copyfraud – to make inconvenient speech disappear. The war-criminals, rapists, murderers and rip-off artists who currently make do with bogus copyright claims to "manage their reputations" will be able to use pretextual legal threats to make their critics just disappear:

https://www.qurium.org/forensics/dark-ops-undercovered-episode-i-eliminalia/

In a post-230 world, Cola Corporation's lawyers wouldn't get a chance to reply to the LAPD's bullying lawyers – those lawyers would send their letter to Cola's hosting provider, who would weigh the possibility of being named in a lawsuit against the small-dollar monthly payment they get from Cola, and poof, no more Cola. The legal bullies could do the same for Cola's email provider, their payment processor, their anti-DoS provider.

This week on EFF's Deeplinks blog, I published a piece making the connection between abolishing Section 230 and reinforcing Big Tech monopolies:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/05/wanna-make-big-tech-monopolies-even-worse-kill-section-230

The Big Tech platforms really do suck, and the solution to their systemic, persistent moderation failures won't come from making them liable for users' speech. The platforms have correctly assessed that they alone have the legal and moderation staff to do the kinds of mass-deletions of controversial speech that could survive a post-230 world. That's why tech billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg love the idea of getting rid of 230:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/03/facebooks-pitch-congress-section-230-me-not-thee

But for small tech providers – individuals, co-ops, nonprofits and startups that host fediverse servers, standalone group chats and BBSes – a post-230 world is a mass-extinction event. Ever had a friend demand that you take sides in an interpersonal dispute ("if you invite her to the party, I'm not coming!").

Imagine if your refusal to take sides in a dispute among your friends – and their friends, and their friends – could result in you being named to a suit that could cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to settle:

https://www.engine.is/news/primer/section230costs

It's one thing to hope for a more humane internet run by people who want to make hospitable forums for online communities to form. It's another to ask them to take on an uninsurable risk that could result in the loss of their home, their retirement account, and their life's savings.

A post-230 world is one in which Big Tech must delete first and ask questions later. Yes, Big Tech platforms have many sins to answer for, but making them jointly liable for their users' speech will flush out treasure-hunters seeking a quick settlement and a quick buck.

Again, this isn't speculative – it's inevitable. Consider FTX: yes, the disgraced cryptocurrency exchange was a festering hive of fraud – but there's no way that fraud added up to the 23.6 quintillion dollars in claims that have been laid against it:

https://cdn.arstechnica.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/US-v-SBF-Alameda-Research-Victim-Impact-Statement-3-20-2024.pdf

Without 230, Big Tech will shut down anything controversial – and small tech will disappear. It's the worst of all possible worlds, a gift to tech monopolists and the bullies and crooks who have turned our online communities into shooting galleries.

One of the reasons I love working for EFF is our ability to propose technologically informed, sound policy solutions to the very real problems that tech creates, such as our work on interoperability as a way to make it easier for users to escape Big Tech:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

Every year, EFF recognizes the best, bravest and brightest contributors to a better internet and a better technological future, with our annual EFF Awards. Nominations just opened for this year's awards – if you know someone who fits the bill, here's the form:

https://www.eff.org/nominations-open-2024-eff-awards

It's nearly time for me to sign off on this weekend's linkdump. For one thing, I have to vacate my backyard hammock, because we've got contractors who need to access the side of the house to install our brand new heat-pump (one of two things I'm purchasing with my last lump-sum book advance – the other is corrective cataract surgery that will give me lifelong, perfect vision).

I've been lusting after a heat-pump for years, and they just keep getting better – though you might not know it, thanks to the fossil-fuel industry disinfo campaign that insists that these unbelievably cool gadgets don't work. This week in Wired, Matt Simon offers a comprehensive debunking of this nonsense, and on the way, explains the nearly magical technology that allows a heat pump to heat a midwestern home in the dead of winter:

https://www.wired.com/story/myth-heat-pumps-cold-weather-freezing-subzero/

As heat pumps become more common, their applications will continue to proliferate. On Bloomberg, Feargus O'Sullivan describes one such application: the Japanese yokushitsu kansouki – a sealed bathroom with its own heat-pump that can perfectly dry all your clothes while you're out at work:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2024-05-22/laundry-lessons-from-japanese-bathroom-technology

This is amazing stuff – it uses less energy than a clothes-dryer, leaves your clothes wrinkle-free, prevents the rapid deterioration caused by high heat and mechanical agitation, and prevents the microfiber pollution that lowers our air-quality.

This is the most solarpunk thing I've read all week, and it makes me insanely jealous of Japanese people. The second-most solarpunk thing I've read this week came from The New Republic, where Aaron Regunberg and Donald Braman discuss the possibility of using civil asset forfeiture laws – lately expanded to farcical levels by the Supreme Court in Culley – to force the fossil fuel industry to pay for the energy transition:

https://newrepublic.com/article/181721/fossil-fuels-civil-forefeiture-pipeline-climate

They point out that the fossil fuel industry has committed a string of undisputed crimes, including fraud, and that the Supremes' new standard for asset forfeiture could comfortably accommodate state AGs and other enforcers who seek billions from Big Oil on this basis. Of course, Big Oil has more resources to fight civil asset forfeiture than the median disputant in these cases ("a low- or moderate-income person of color [with] a suspected connection to drugs"). But it's an exciting idea!

All right, the heat-pump guys really need me to vacate the hammock, so here's one last quickie for you: Barath Raghavan and Bruce Schneier's new paper, "Seeing Like a Data Structure":

https://www.belfercenter.org/publication/seeing-data-structure

This is a masterful riff on James C Scott's classic Seeing Like a State, and it describes how digitalization forces us into computable categories, and counts the real costs of doing so. It's a gnarly and thoughtful piece, and it's been on my mind continuously since Schneier sent it to me yesterday. Something suitably chewy for you to masticate over the long weekend!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/25/anthology/#lol-no

[violetasteracademic]

My Two Cents on the People Magazine Article (and Elriel coming home!)

I'm sure this has already been dissected to death and I am potentially late to the game here (I only just saw the article this morning!) but I would like to share some thoughts and insight!

While by no means am I saying this to claim I am *the* expert of all experts, I would like to share that my background and previous career was in entertainment. My twenties were spent in Los Angeles, and (some of you other current or previous LA/New Yorker's may identify with this) you really learn how the sausage gets made and exactly how much money, planning, and prep goes into what we are meant to perceive as "natural." I don't mean to take the shine off of it! Just sharing my experiences. I can't share everything because some of my friends were under NDA's at the time of their employment, so I'll just give a brief overview.

Example: Late Night talk shows and many other major "live" productions that have "live" interviews are, well, not actually live. They typically film in the early afternoon even if they are set designed to look like its nighttime. And while it is in front of a "live" audience, the audience is instructed on when to clap, when to laugh, ect. This is because the interview has already been planned out, and questions approved ahead of time. This is why, even though it seems totally fresh, there are things the "host" received ahead of time. For example, all of the baby pictures and sweet photos of Sarah and Josh and then all of the staged "walking and talking photos" for the MASSIVE Today Show interview and article. And yes, this is the article where we got this absolute banger:

That "felt" like a live interview followed up with a giant article to accompany it, but was actually a full on pre-planned production. Seriously massive for Sarah. And if there's time, you can even do multiple takes and use the best shot for the "live" show. I've seen people comment on thinking Sarah seemed "not excited" in that interview and she was worried HoFaS would bomb, but I'm telling you guys, I don't think she has ever that much pressure or "lights, camera, action" on her before compared to her usual casual "chat" style interviews. Babes was nervous, and she crushed it.

Now to breakdown the new People Magazine article:

This article is being presented as "Everything You Need to Know" aka "we are your trusted resource on all things Sarah J. Mass."

People Magazine, while serving as your "trusted resource" for the world of ACOTAR, would not say the protagonists of ACOTAR are the sisters for zero reason whatsoever. What's interesting is both Lucien and Azriel get small nods, but very little otherwise and zero mention of the ship. Just Elain, baybee dolls. This further cements that this designed to portray the Archeron sisters as the leads of the series.

Now, taking a look at the author of this article to see if she specializes in anything, she really doesn't. Miss ma'am writes about everything under the sun!

She also did the Ultimate Guide to Emily Henry's books. (Major Emily Henry Stan over here. Who is dying for Funny Story to come out?!)

This is a Northwestern University journalism grad who has been with People for a few years. She certainly understands what it is that needs to come from these articles, and that is interest, clicks, money, and trust.

There is simply no reason for major networks like Today and People to invest in these thorough and in depth articles and interviews, on screen and on page, with Sarah and continue to hint towards Elain or questioning the mating bond if it will serve no purpose in improving their reputation or generating interest in the plot of the books. That is simply not how this works, and is antithetical to keeping the gears of these machines well oiled and functioning as intended.

If you read this whole thing, wow! You are an MVP. With nothing but respect to you all, I'm not sure how long I will keep this post up or how much I am willing to talk about my time in LA. I unfortunately had some experiences I am still recovering from and already feel a bit anxious putting this much information about myself out there. But for those who catch it, I hope you enjoy and can feel comforted that this is all a part of the plan. There's a reason you see repeats of themes and conversations in all her articles. It's because they are pre-planned and executed with the goal of reputation and selling books in mind.

*** Thanks to Sara Anne (@SaraAnneReads on Tiktok) who shared her insight from working on the marketing team for a magazine in 2019 that adverts have to share if an article is paid for in someway, no matter how small. Thus I have removed my statement on *this* article potentially being part of their paid marketing budget, as there is no indicator of that on the article itself which is required by law.

However, this could be what is called "Earned Media" where a marketing/publicity rep for SJM and/or Bloomsbury *could* have reached out to people magazine and basically said hey, if you want to write about this, we have an announcement coming up soon so it could be relevant and worth talking about. To which the rep for People would say to the rep for SJM, hey, thank you so much for the heads up. There is no exchange of goods or currency and no promise verbally or in writing to do the article so the ethics stay above board, but all parties benefit from earned media. Sarah's team has now earned additional buzz for the upcoming story, and a news outlet has articles out on a trending topic. However, earned media does not have to be disclosed and therefore we have NO way of knowing if this occurred here or not!

She also shared with me People's statement of integrity where People state's their high standard for ethical practices and journalistic credibility and accountability. (I mean we know they are the kings and queens of "a reliable source close to the individual," but still)

She also caught with her eagle eye that Bloomsbury explicitly states the detailed marketing plan once books are announced, including details like year-long social media campaign, arc readers, ECT. So with Sarah already posting about the next ACOTAR, we can safely assert that is part of the existing laid out marketing plan, and assume additional articles surrounding ACOTAR are all to further generate buzz.

Analysis: Elain's book announcement is coming SOON and marketing is already underway!

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hello! Are you hyperfixated on RedactedAudio?

Do you want (need) to know who to follow to cultivate your dashboard and feed your gremlin brain good, good boyfriend roleplay content?

Cool, I’ve got you, and I’ve got hyperlinks. Buckle up.

(Note: This is by no means a comprehensive, objective, or complete list. I've only been in the fandom for six months or so. I have biases and favorites and limited time. I hope to update this list periodically, and if you feel I've missed someone, please feel free to reblog with your additions! I just would have loved a guide like this when I got into the fandom back in August and wanted to spread some positivity~!)

Fanfiction:

@angelnoodlesoup: she/her

Sophie is just one of the sweetest David stans that's ever existed who writes, like, the sweetest things about him. Her posts are just going to make you feel warm, fluffy, soft things in your heart area; give into the sweetness. Highlights: Sophie writes this adorable timestamp series of vignettes exploring Davey and Angel's day, but I'm particularly attacked to their David/Angel neighbors to lovers AU~

@arrowfleur

I was actually going to put Max in the visual content portion of this post, because they post delightful Redacted edits on Tiktok (under the same username, highly recommend~), but then they made a uquiz that gave me an existential crisis, so here we are. Highlights: This quiz sent my whole server for a loop and has made me reconsider my relationship with Lovely as a character and kin; it's a great time.

@batch-of-pengwings: robin/bird, she/her

Robin, an absolute sweetheart who makes all the fun ask games that keep the community interconnected and thinking and talking which is just really sweet and fun in the best way. Highlights: The Winter Wonderland game is the one who went around most recently, and it’s so fun to engage with the fandom and discuss who we think is stupid enough to get their tongues stuck on a telephone poll~

@bicyclepainting: they/them

Clover, the fandom's resident Smartass, doing the lord's work and reminding us all how fucking smoochable Aaron is on a regular basis on top of being the coolest astrology nerd don't give them your birth chart you will be perceived /lh Highlights: No one is doing Aaron/Smartass like they are; like, read and absorb the delicious, domestic delight that is them. I also recommend their deep dives into the Redacted bois signs, if you're into that; they're very thorough and fun to read!

@cashandprizes: she/they

My Lexi, my queerplatonic soulmate… She is on a quest to dissect and critique fandom brick by philosophical brick, and I both love her and fear her in equal measure. (That’s a lie, I love her infinitely, more than anything, but she is in fact incredibly intelligent and intimidating.) Highlights: Come for the scathing insights into gray-morality and DD:DNE’s place in fiction, stay for the stripper!Gavin fic they’re working on and their sequel to Lasko’s SexTember audio because she really wanted to make him cry

@ejunkiet: she/her

EJ, the very first of my Redacted loves~ Not only is EJ an endless well of kindness and positivity, but she also writes fucking bomb ass everything. You get angst, you get smut, you get fluff- We stan a multitalented, ace queen. (She also writes really cute CastleAudios fanfiction and original stuff as a cherry on top.) Highlights: EJ writes just some of my favorite David/Angel smut; she captures Angel's little shit nature perfectly. She's also written the sweetest thing of Damien meeting Huxley's moms that I can't get enough of~

@dominimoonbeam: she/her

Domini, truly one of the pillars of the fandom. I don't know what'd we'd be without her fantastic fics or her original novellas or her fantastic, beautiful, rarepair-creating brain. Highlights: God, there's too many to choose from! There's the Sam/Darlin fake dating AU that has us all gripped by the proverbial balls. There's the David/Darlin tattoo shop AU that has me frothing at the mouth because tattoo artists are stinkin hot. That's not even getting into their Cam/William fic, because god, that is such a good rarepair. We love two immortals finding love with one another, we really do. My personal favorite has got to be their Huxley/Darlin piece though, because Darlin gets to be cute and awkward and so, so loved in it.

@frenchiefitzhere: she/her

Frenchie, the fandom's unofficial (but basically official) Marie Greer, not only a gorgeous writer but also the creator of the most fantastical and unique fansongs (who makes original audio content to boot~) Highlights: We would be nowhere as a fandom without the Marie/Colm greer backstory and saga or her audios as the Greer Matriarch herself, but personally? Her Imperium!Lasko/Adam fic kind of changed my life, I'm kind of obsessed with it.

@friendlyfaded: he/him

Miles, the king and professor of the rarepairs! Beware, you will leave his blog wishing for fics for a ship that doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s unavoidable when you read the careful, creative, thoughtful way he considers seemingly silly pairings and makes them gorgeous. Highlights: I recommend his whole rarepairs with prof tag for a snack and his Sweetheart/Lasko/Milo fic for a whole meal~

@gingerbreadmonsters: she/her

Ginger, literally one of the sweetest, friendliest people in the entire Internet. I cannot adequately describe the absolute magnificent poetry of Ginger's prose, so you just have to read it for yourself. You will not be disappointed. Highlights: Ginger's Milo/Sweetheart series is for if you're feeling sweet, and her Vincent/Lovely/Gavin/Freelancer foursome fic is if you're feeling spicy~ Or if you're like me and are longing for an character we'll never see again, you can read her gorgeous, Doctor Who-inspired look in Marcus's mind.

@glassbearclock: she/her

Beans, also known as the best Milo/Sweetheart writer in the game. Their banter is taken from the mouth of god and first name Erik last name Redacted himself, and you could not convince me otherwise. Highlights: I’m a big fan of her sweet, wholesome, Jewish!Milo sick fic, but aYO her Milo/Sweetheart first date fic is so good y’all like goddamn Sweetheart phases through their door and makes Milo faceplant it on accident man that shit is so good

@horrorscoupes: they/he

My beautiful, darling Lotus, my gloriously deranged brother in arms (affectionate). The way they write each and every d(a)emons is just so -chef kiss-. Highlights: I think about their Regulus/Doll fic, like, literally every day, it's just yummy and depraved. Though, for a true taste of genius, for a galaxy brain treat, you've got to read his Shark!Vega/Pet masterpiece.

@k9rage: he/xi

My beloved Calico, our helpful Image Description fairy. He is just so cool and writes the most glorious smut like the world has ever seen. As of publishing, he's writing a Vega/Lasko street racing AU that's gonna be just smoke ash cinder fire hot. Highlights: You need to read his Damien/Gavin waxplay fic; like, this changed my life, I think about it daily. Ooh, AND his Aaron/SmartAss/Gavin threesome fic, because he didn't do all that thinking and imagining for us to not appreciate it. I'm also reccing @calicostorms, his other blog and spotify, so you can get at his stellar Redacted character playlists!

@lovelylonerliterature: 

Lovely, absolute stand-out writer in the fandom! Would you believe they have a whole (as of posting) 95 works for the RedactedASMR fandom on AO3? There’s <2000 fics, which makes Lovely a whole five percent of the fanfiction on their own. That’s wild and so hella cool. Highlights: Literally everything they write. Explore their extremely well done masterlist, it’s beautifully put together, and you’ll find something you love. (I’m particularly fond of the Darlin/Vega fic they wrote based off of one of FriendlyFaded’s posts~)

@romirola: she/her

Dr. Romi, the one and the only and one of the legitimate sweetest goddamn people that has ever existed. You've never met a more polite, darling person in all your days. How did she write all these thousands of words of art while getting a doctorate? God, I wish I knew... if only we could also be so beautiful and wonderful and accomplished. Highlights: You haven't existed until you've read her Milo/Sweetheart Tangled AU; like, what are you doing here? GO. (I also deeply recommend her found family Shaw Pack + Sam fic, if you're looking for something that's still ongoing!)

@sealriously-sealrious: they/them

Chrys who writes- no contest I think we can all agree- the best Huxley that this fandom has ever seen. He is just so well-explored and so multifaceted, just the top-tier himbo content we all need and deserve. Highlights: Huxley and Freelancer at the aquarium, Huxley and Freelancer going camping, sfw, nsfw, whatever you want, we've GOT. (There's even some imperium!Huxley, if you're so inclined >:))

@starlitangels: she/her

Starlit, another absolute powerhouse of the fandom. Just look at this masterlist, I think there’s something here for literally every character. That’s what babes call RANGE. Highlights: The way they explore the Shaw pack is so fun; I’d highly recommend her fic exploring Gabe and his backstory or her fic exploring the Shaw’s future pups~!

@taelonsamada: she/her

A pillar- or should I say fence post?- of the fandom and just an utter peach. Always has a nice word to say and says the best nice words about Sam and Darlin- Highlights: Her nsfw Geordi/Cutie fic holds a special place in my heart (the blindfold? the gag? Be still my beating heart), but you haven’t lived until you’ve read her Shaw-centric Ranch AU~!

@teasandcardigans: she/her

Mads, another lovely creator that could be in either section of this post- that's how talented she is! Not only is she a lovely writer but she also designs the most fun Redacted stickers! Also, she's got the only Redacted fan tiktok that Erik has confirmed seen and liked, can't not mention that it's so cool Highlights: Honestly, there's too many to mention! A really popular of hers is a "What If" echo-esque reimagining of everyone's stories which is so fun, and my personal, biased favorite is her Alexis & Gavin fic hear me OUT-

@the-sugar-crash

Cait, out here doing the most and the best. They’ve run the Redacted Winter Gift Exchange for the past two years, connecting blogs who might have never spoken to each other, inspiring creativity, and spreading holiday cheer~ Highlights: I recommend taking a look-see through the “Redacted 2022 Winter Gift Exchange” tag- much thanks to Cait for making it possible- to consider if you’d like to join next year! Until then, there’s a compilation of their cute headcanon posts to inspire you!

@zozo-01: she/her

Zo, one of the sweetest people in the fandom~ Not only is she a fantastic writer, but she is also one of the friendliest people in the space! Constantly excited and supportive and positive and a joy to follow and befriend. Highlights: Her Sam/Darlin Deity AU is going to change the world and break some hearts, I just know it. (Just like her Alexis and Darlin meeting fic broke mine-) If you're not up to getting your heart broken and just want a friend, I recommend asking her about her Powerpoint of Bollywood scenes that could be Sam/Darlin moments~!

Fanart:

@andr0leda: she/they

Androleda’s art is so gorgeous in that most of them are uncolored or working with a smaller palette, and it just makes those colors stand out and the line work all the more elegant. Highlights: Their wolf!Darlin piece got so popular, and you can see why! It looks like the cover of a really cool YA fantasy novel. Also, her Sam/Darlin art just melts the heart- the gentle hand, the key around the neck-!

@artbykays

Kays, a fantastic artist who plays around with the prettiest, brightest colors and has the prettiest (hottest) fem listeners. They also have super fun Redacted playlists! Highlights: Their Sweetheart, Valentina, is kind of smokin hot, I mean look at her, but also good lord, have you seen their Warden like lock me up anytime hello-

@belovedbow

Bow’s art just makes me so soft and gooey inside I dunno. Their art is so pretty, and they always have the most expressive faces. Not to mention the colors- like, Bow uses the simplest but most emotionally evocative shades of pinks and blues that make me inexplicably feel things, and I love it. Highlights: Literally all their Davey/Angel is the sweetest, but I also have this deep fondness for their imp!FL and Vindemiator pieces, because look at these deep, mournful blues, they’re beautiful!

@cascadiiing: they/them

Atlas creates the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable characters on top of being the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable (platonic) sweetie in existence~ they’re so sweet and friendly on top of being so talented at such a young age, and I would protect them with my life. Highlights: Their Sam kind of makes me so lovesick, I could barf- he’s just that pretty. Their Alexis/Christian art is fanart of my own fic, I’ll grant you, but it’s also so fucking pretty look at the dreamy colors and it MOVES-

@claracatlady

Where would we be without Clara, like honestly- What really stands out about their art is- other than the overwhelming talent- the obvious thought and joy that went into designing the outfits. Only the best from our resident fashion design student! Highlights: literally everything. If I must be specific, the David design pinned to their blog is utterly ahdhkakshdjsk, and I am particularly partial to their Alexis design, because I love my beautiful, possibly complex lady okay-

@fregget-frou : he/they

Mal has the prettiest Listeners; I’m lowkey in love with all of them~ I love the way he does such fluffy, voluminous hair, and I dunno, all their listener OC’s have this fashion model-esque glamour and posture about them that’s really attractive. Highlights: Of their listeners, Mal’s Angel has got to be my favorite. Look at this fluffy-haired cutie! Look at this menace! I would also propose to them, they’re gorgeous!

@gwenifred: she/her

Gwen draws the most gorgeous, swoon-worthy Huxleys and is just a big sweetpea to boot. Her and Pali sharing OC’s and art trades here and on Twitter is a testament to how friendly and sweet the fandom can be! Highlights: Everything she draws is gorgeous, but you haven’t lived until you’ve seen her animation work!

@ice-palace-art: They/It/He/Dae

Darby has some of the most beautiful designs, I can hardly stand it. He creates the most gorgeous, realistically proportioned characters and listeners, and they’re just really smoochable okay let me live- Highlights: It has this one piece of Gavin and Lasko having a sleepover that fills me with the warm fuzzies every time I see it, and their Aaron design fills me with longing I am hopelessly in love with their dad-bodded Aaron.

@itsdaifuku: she/her

Y’all don’t even know the little happy stim storm Fuku’s art sets me on; like, all her art is so cute and joyful and somehow colorful even when it’s in black and white? It just gives the vibe of life and vibrancy constantly? How does she do that? Highlights: Literally, everything she draws is gorgeous and sweet, though her designs for the Shaws and their mates are so S-tier and so cute. (I’m also particularly fond of her designs for Love and Alexis, my favorite characters, I’m biased, sue me)

@mr-laveau: he/they

Laveau, my favorite Milo kinnie~ (Yeah, I said it out loud; I’m callin you out.) Charming, thoughtful, friendly, much more talented than they have any right to be when they’re also so funny and sweet, AND also writing at their other blog @bratty-telepath. You’ve never seen such a double threat. Highlights: Literally, everything he makes. All his designs are colorful and gorgeous and filled to the brim with deliberate, intentional details (though I am incredibly partial to their Alexis and Darlin designs and the parallels he included between them.)

@nais-doodles

Nai is a fucking blessing unto this fandom, and we are not worthy. You haven’t really lived, haven’t experienced all the pure, positive silliness that this hellsite has to offer until you experience Nai’s Redacted Actor AU. It’s pure serotonin, and we’re all here listening to Boyfriend ASMR, I know we could use it. Highlights: Other than said AU posts (which really are so fuckin good), have you seen their drawing of Vincent and Sam’s Monarchal ball? Ooh, and if you go to their tiktok under the same username, you can see some of the really cool dating sim they’re working on!

@nanowatzophina: any pronouns

Na’no is not only a must follow on tumblr, but I also highly recommend their tiktok if you wish to wade through the horrid cesspool of that app (I say with tiktok as one of my top social media sites- we have a codependent relationship) Their art is super cute and expressive, and I get massive gender envy from the way he draws hair and teeth. Highlights: Her aspec Freelancer is just so close to my heart; I adore Avery so deeply. Also, the way they draw imperium!Vega and Pet makes my heart fucking melt and want to jump out my chest- the size difference, my god

@obsessivedino: they/them

Mint’s contribution to the fandom cannot possibly be overstated. Their art style is just so clean and neat and with the cutest expressions, and I love their designs so much, especially for the d(a)emon bois I just ahhhhh Highlights: If you’ve joined the official unofficial Redacted Discord server, you’ve seen their adorable stickers reminding you to kick that ass or hydrate unless you want to die-drate, and you haven’t truly embraced life unless you’ve seen their two-year anniversary masterpiece. Ooh, or pocket caelum!

@palilious: she/her

There is no Redacted fandom or fandom list without Pali, and we’ve all accepted that. Her style is so uniquely and instantaneously recognizable as hers, and everyone adores it, including but not limited to GBA, Nomad, and Cardlin! Highlights: Literally everyone she draws is so pretty, though I have a soft spot for her Vincent or her Nomad drawings if you’re looking for more VAs to listen to!

@pearl-kite: she/they

Kirehn has the most huggable humans and the most awe-inspiring d(a)emons. The way she draws the d(a)emons with constellations worked into the designs and color palettes is just so gorgeous and purposeful and thoughtful. Highlights: Their Vega is so frightening but beautiful, you just can’t look away from him. I’m also particularly in love with their Darlin!

@queendread

Do y’all ever do this thing when you see an ethereally beautiful person and you have no words, all you can do is giggle like a vapid schoolgirl(gn)? That’s me with all of Anna’s paintings: no words, just awe. Highlights: I don’t even really like Gavin, okay, he’s not my type, but lord above, Anna’s Gavin is something else. Their Sam also has those Captain America, boy next door good looks I imagined, it’s like they took him right out of my daydreams.

@ryokoaoi : they/them

Ryo has the absolute cutest, most adorable art style, one can barely handle it! Everything they draw is just so pretty and so colorful and detailed and sweet. (Except the sad things, those are less sweet but gosh they’re still so pretty.) They also have this Magic Swap AU that they design that is so fun to read about! Highlights: Their swapped! Gavin and Avior designs are so fun, I adore them deeply, and if you need something to cheer you up, you can always depend on their DAMN pieces that always include a little invisible Caelum to bring you joy~!

@slushrottweiler: she-they

There is nothing like seeing Slush’s signature blue linework on your dashboard, it’s such a sweet treat- or spicy. There are also very good, very spicy treats. Her blog is a magnificent roulette wheel of blue surprises. Highlights: I love their Sam/Darlin stuff, especially this one because wowee them shoulderblades, but their HuxDami BA piece takes the cake.

@spookybeandoodle

Spooky has my whole heart and wallet and my other heart if I had one I fell in love with their rich color palettes and shading and Alexis right away and had to commission them. Could not recommend enough, they were a treasure to work with~ Highlights: I’m not biased- okay yes I am but not now their Alexis is fuckin smoking hot but also their Cam might be my favorite Cam look at that smile-!

@sri-rachaa: she/her

Rae is such a treasure to this fandom, we hardly deserve her. Her art is so ethereally pretty and delicate? The way she draws hair and noses and silhouettes- her line work is just phenomenal. Everything she creates is just a delight to look at. Highlights: The Southern Siblings AU is a gift, a treasure, a boon that cannot be ignored. I’m also a big fan of her Lovely OC who is ridiculously pretty~

@tankwolf : she/her

June has been posting fanart for only two months, but I’m already absolutely obsessed. I just find her monochrome character portraits so visually engaging and interesting. I would love so badly to be friends with her listener OC’s… Highlights: …or more than friends, because her Sweetheart is something else good lord. I would just love it if June could stop putting the hot people in crop tops please (but also don’t cause whoa)

@terrazaurio

All the fanart Terra creates is so bright and vivid and colorful and expressive, they’re really such a treat to see and experience. I’m a sucker for the colors they use, cause it makes my lizard brain all happy and go “shiny pretty happy.” Highlights: Everything they draw with the Shaw Pack is pure dopamine, like this one of the bois and their mates hanging by the pool. I am particularly attached to this piece from Milo’s HBS, because they’re so fucking in love, your honor, I love them.

@thefablefoxart : she/her

Angelina’s Redacted couple series is one of the truest delights of the fandom; like, they’re so colorful and cute and just adorably designed. I’m also deeply in love with the way she does hair. Everyone just has really fucking good looking hair, and I can’t get over it-Highlights: On top of the aforementioned couple series, I just want to bring attention to this adorable chibi Sam that she drew- it brings me so much serotonin- and their Darlin, Kai who I wish would just give me a shot okay I have a Southern accent too-

If you’re reading all the way here, I hope you found the post helpful and smiled while making your way through it! Or both! The RedactedAudio fandom is truly one of my favorite spaces on the internet; it’s so intimate and creative, and I’ve found some amazing, perfect friends here, so I hope you will too 💖

again playing around with the formatting please stop hurting me tumblr I’m trying to be nice

If you can see this, I love you, and you’re watching me try to format this post so tumblr doesn’t cut off the bottom of it please ignore the Android behind the emerald curtain go about your day

[infaria]

So, so, so, SO many people miss the point of the walten files and it's genuinely saddening, because it is such a delicate story hidden behind horror. What makes the walten files stand out from the rest of the big analog webseries out there is the fact that it's so far the only one that is both horror and drama in genre. The only other online indie horror projects that I've seen put focus on placing actual depth into characters so far is welcome home and the tanji virus/oracle project duology (a duology that I highly recommend people to watch, it deserves more recognition).

Martin has said that there's more to the characters than meets the eye, with bunnyfarm specifically noting that "this is a story about broken people, beautiful people"

This is probably why most theories people make are doomed to fail from my point of view. Martin doesn't seem to be particularly interested in creating an epic horror that ends in a thrilling battle or to create the "most SHOCKING, SCARY analog horror ever?!?!" as random reaction channels title their videos as. Maybe this is why Martin deviated from the original format. The walten files 4, despite being 36 minutes long, did not add too many answers to the mystery. Instead, there was a perfect balance of giving more context as well as well as giving more character to pre-existing characters, such as suzan, ed and molly, the antagonist (whoever he is), felix, jack and charles. All that through dialogue and actual cinematographic scenes. The story wants you to take personality and psychology into account when theorizing as well.

I won't post all my theories, but now that we have 4 out, I'll give my two cents on the "who or what is bon" mystery, based on a mix of character analysis and hints given throughout the episodes, site, hidden media and martin's statements.

I never believed the "felix killed and placed jack into bon" theory as someone who discovered the series after bunnyfarm's release. Felix is a coward, self centered, is irresponsible and refuses to acknowledge his issues. And people mistakenly interpret that as "evil capitalist who only cares about his hide". I won't analyze felix (at least not today), because so far he is the one character who we have the most context about his inner psychology and woo boi, there's a LOT of issues this guy has, but point I am trying to make is that he doesn't seem like the type to kill jack because, believe it or not, from what I can gather, he'd never kill a person on purpose.

The only possible scenario I can see the "felix put jack in bon" theory being true is if jack attacked felix after learning of the kids, so felix accidentally killed him in self defense.

Felix is shown to be alive in 1981, so it's unlikely it is him being bon either. (funnily enough, if that wasn't revealed, I'd think him being bon as a good theory, something that, yet again, I'll probably touch upon a future dissection of his character)

The only two scenarios I can think of is a) either jack put himself, either on purpose, or accidentally in bon, b) bon is a third party or c) jack is bon, but someone else placed him in

Out of these three theories, I believe a) is the least probable, with c) being second in place. It is possible jack got depressed to the point of doing something this intense, however it was implied in the Relocation project and the findjackwalten site that he is very likely alive. Here I am mostly going on hunch, but I don't think martin would choose the "Man loses family, ends up depressed and then a vengeful insane spirit" route. I did say above that I believe felix to more more likely to fit that role of "person going mad from mental stress", but I actually believe that he'd be more likely to snap, considering his mental stability after the crash. Also I don't see how jack could accidentally get into bon.

I honestly think both were red herrings from the very start of the series. In fact, walten files 4 pretty much added the possibility that they have nothing to do with the murders (excluding ed and molly*), aside from felix being heavily hinted to have tried covering up the bon incidents instead of reporting them like a normal, law abiding, responsible citizen.

Cyberfun Tech episode pretty much revealed to us that the "bon is just a malfunctioning animatronic" theory is not true, as bon clearly has something controlling it. So I can only see the above theories being correct.

This places the c) theory as most believable. The issue is who is the third party. People have speculated it is the original ceo of cyberfun tech or a demon. I'd personally lean towards the ceo, a demon would be too random for a story that focuses so much on personal strife. And since I am part of the "jack is alive" theorizers, I also don't believe the "manifestation of jack's anger" theory. Something that keeps bugging me also is why did the person who honked at felix during the car crash didn't report anything, it's weird, as if someone saw the perfect opportunity to use felix as a scapegoat for the murders. Maybe bon has an accomplice?

I'm stepping into tinfoil shadow government territory here though lmao

*I know I am being nitpicky here, call me a law nerd all you know, but I especially get frustrated when people throw around heavy words without knowing their terminology, as that can have pretty bad consequences when applicable to real people. Another small fun fact just for extra trivia knowledge: Age of consent doesn't always mean legal, if you're a minor, please protect yourself. Back on topic, no, what felix did was not murder. It's a shitty, also fairly common douchy behavior in my country called "causing death through driving under the influence of alcohol". Here's the difference:

(The first picture says California, but the same exact thing applies to law articles from multiple countries)

This post probably ended up on a passive aggressive tone, I apologize ToT

[rayless-reblogs]

Goldstone Wood and the Oddness of Christian Fantasy

Princess Varvare in a kingdom of roses

I want to share some illustrations inspired by the Tales of Goldstone Wood series by Anne Elisabeth Stengl. It's a Christian fantasy series that I really like. Give me a moment to talk about that – unless you absolutely love Christian fantasy, all Christian fantasies, in which case, maybe skip this.

I spent a chunk of the early 2000s defending fantasy as a genre to a variety of Christians I ran across – not the majority, but still a variety of them – both in my head and to their faces. The preacher who said, from the pulpit, that Harry Potter was Satanic. Writers explaining why JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis were (of course) okay, but all other fantasy novels were suspect. Websites that dissected the occult symbolism you never realized was buried in fantasy media. My friend who frowned at me in concern and said she wouldn't want to have to explain to God why she read “that kind of thing” when she met him after death.

This is Rosie (and her goat Beana, who talks.) I love Rosie utterly, she tries so hard and she feels things so much. The next image is a spoiler, showing her unveiled.

I think that's partially why I'm interested in the genre of Christian fantasy, this attempt to make these two things fit. For me, the fusion often doesn't work. Either writers mix theology and fantasy in a weird confusing way. (Wait, you just had your heroine marry an angel. Do you actually think that happens? Which parts of this actually reflect your belief system?) Or they play things extremely safe and traditional. (Oh boy, another story about a young farm boy who's going to go on a quest and fight the Satan figure and become a hero while his girlfriend does... something peaceful off-screen.) Or they try to be another Lewis in the belief that since Lewis and John Bunyan did it, allegory is an acceptable vehicle for fantasy, and let's be really obvious about the symbolism. (I bet this demon symbolizes evil.) I read Christian fantasy, but it's partially optimistic curiosity, it's partially pessimistic irony, and I haven't found many that I'd recommend.

Rosie unveiled.

But I do like Tales of Goldstone Wood, at least what I've read so far (still missing a few of the installments). I like it enough that I would recommend it to a Christian who wants to read fantasy, or a fantasy reader who doesn't mind Christian themes. Anne Elisabeth Stengl often approaches the Christian elements indirectly, from less obvious angles, so you don't have all the heavy-handed symbols you see in the Lewis and Tolkien knockoffs. She has many, many interesting female characters and a lot of humor. Her series also builds, adding complexity to the world and characters with each installment, many of the characters showing up in multiple books.

Varvare and the unicorn. This unnamed unicorn is one of my favorite elements of the third book – beautiful but dangerous and eldritch. Corrupted – but not exactly evil.

Stengl's also not afraid to get weird and fey with her fantasy elements, at times reminding me strongly of things like Labyrinth, The Neverending Story, and no end of Celtic and European folklore. Her magical characters are unpredictable, merry, fearsome, and unabashedly over the top. Her heroes have depth, flaws to go with their heroism, and never become morally perfect even after their conversions – unlike in so much Christian fiction. Much of Christian fantasy bears the thumbprint of CS Lewis; in Stengl's case, though her writing shows clear nods to Lewis (and not just his Narnia books), she isn't trying to replicate him. These aren't books that Lewis would have written.

Daylily and Lionheart. If the series has a protagonist, it's probably Lionheart there on the right. He seems to be doomed to keep showing up in different story arcs, and he's always interesting.

I recommend you begin with the first one, Heartless. Though Heartless is the least ambitious/unique entry – it's straightforward and, of all of the books, the most directly allegorical. (I bet this guy's the Jesus figure. Yep, yep he is.) But it lays the foundation for the world and establishes many of the central characters, including my favorite Eanrin, the blind cat-shapeshifting bard-knight with the heroism of a knight, the selfishness of a cat, and endless flair. Stengl does explore Christian themes, but at the same time she clearly wants to create beautiful language, memorable characters, and engrossing stories. The stories and characters don't feel secondary to the message.

Eanrin, I like him a lot. He also shows up in almost every book, at least the main books, sometimes pre-injury, sometimes post-.

My favorite book is Starflower, the fourth, because of its courageous heroine (who grows into the librarian-knight Imraldera we see in other books), its twisted echoes of “Beauty and the Beast” and Till We Have Faces, and its focus on, who else, Eanrin in his younger years, before he's really gotten that whole hero thing worked out.

Imraldera. (She's looking at Eanrin.) The series is allegedly over, but I feel like there are still some narrative threads hanging, including with Imraldera here. My hope is that the author returns to the series someday.

As with any recommendation, this isn't a blanket recommendation; you may find things in here you don't like. I don't sign off on every element as perfect. But Christian fantasy is a small genre, it's a weird genre, in my opinion it's often a clumsy genre. Goldstone Wood is proof that it can produce interesting, original material – stuff not merely “good for a Christian fantasy”, but just a good series, period.

[feministsouthpark]

South Park Filler Guide - Season 14

Link for Seasons  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12 13

You know the drill by now, I’ll judge whether an episode has all the qualities of a canon one, or is it just shameless filler. S14E1 Sexual Healing is LORE S14E2 The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs is FILLER

Both Tiger Woods and Sarah Jessica Parker are seen henching for Tom Cruise a few episodes later, so I suppose you can count them in, however in Sarah's case she was found dead in her origin episode, so that one counts less, but you can't really miss the point either way. Remember how often the show treated Butters only as a Kenny replacement? Well now it doesn't have to be an either/or deal, as we finally get never-seen-before the four boys + Butters dynamic. S14E3 Medicinal Fried Chicken is FILLER S14E4 You Have 0 Friends is FILLER

Randy and Eric get their first dual episode, which is two separate issue of the week storylines tied together by the beginning sequence. Stan goes on facebook before deleting it. S14E5 200 is CANON S14E6 201 is CANON

If you watch only the canon episodes, half the series is a build-up to these two excellent episodes. Watch these at any cost, they are spectacular and the main event I've been talking about all this time. In fact, I plan to dissect these two episodes in a separate post later. S14E7 Crippled Summer is CANON S14E8 Poor and Stupid is FILLER

The annual Jimmy episode IS canon this time, thanks to it also being the first chapter of the Nathan and Mimsy arc. The NASCAR episode though just happens and rides on. S14E9 It's a Jersey Thing is LORE S14E10 Insheeption is FILLER

Kyle is from Jersey. Stan is a hoarder. One of them explains in detail Kyle's and Sheila's roots, and for that, despite never being talked again, at least it's part of the lore of who they are. In Stan and Mr Mackey's origin of their hoarding it's simply filler since that issue is not a huge part of their characters otherwise. S14E11 Coon 2: Hindsight is CANON S14E12 Mysterion Rises is CANON S14E13 Coon vs. Coon & Friends is CANON

Huge part of the canon, the immortality of Bradley is finally explained after so many years. The Coon also returns once more. S14E14 Créme Fraiche is CANON

Chef gets replaced at last. That's not why it's canon, it's because of Randy and Sharon's ongoing relationship arc.

SPOILER-FREE RUNDOWN

Again, CANON means you should watch it, FILLER means you can skip it, LORE is somewhere in-between, any episode with the LORE label will have an explanation that helps you decide if you should include it or not.

S14E1 Sexual Healing is LORE* S14E2 The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs is FILLER S14E3 Medicinal Fried Chicken is FILLER S14E4 You Have 0 Friends is FILLER S14E5 200 is CANON S14E6 201 is CANON S14E7 Crippled Summer is CANON S14E8 Poor and Stupid is FILLER S14E9 It's a Jersey Thing is LORE** S14E10 Insheeption is FILLER S14E11 Coon 2: Hindsight is CANON S14E12 Mysterion Rises is CANON S14E13 Coon vs. Coon & Friends is CANON S14E14 Créme Fraiche is CANON

*Tiger Woods is in this one and he'll later say a sentence about how the town mistreated him **If you're interested in Kyle's and Sheila's origins, watch this one

CANON counter:

S1: 9 out of 13  S2: 3 out of 18  S3: 6 out of 18  S4: 10 out of 17  S5: 8 out of 14  S6: 11 out of 17 S7: 6 out of 15 S8: 4 out of 14 S9: 8 out of 14 S10: 4 out of 14 S11: 4 out of 14 S12: 8 out of 14 S13: 3 out of 14 S14: 7 out of 14

Overall: 91 out of 210

[genericpuff]

so, i'd been stalking your blog in silence for the past few days/weeks because i used to be a huge fan of LO (i paid patron, was on the discord, own merch and a volume, spent money on fast past for over FOUR years). but as it happened to most fans, i got frustrated and gave up fastpass, and for a while i was trying to stay away from LO critiques because it just made me mad to realize something that was a comfort thing for me was bad all along (and i didn't wanna go full blown anti-LO) but i just finished reading your analysis on the mid-season finale and oh my god dude.

the retcon on how persephone feels about apollo after over 4 years of seeing her hate him because of what he did nearly pushed me over the edge. i feel sick to my stomach, this has to be among the worst things rachel has done and i just wanna say thank you for bringing it up and talking about it so eloquently. i'm a victim of SA and its comforting to see people in the fandom take it as seriously as it should be.

also LO rekindled is a breath of fresh air, thank you for creating it and putting so much work into it <3

Aw man, it's wild when I see people go through the pipeline of realizing LO has issues, mostly because it's a common attack on the critical community that everyone in it are just a bunch of "trolls and haters", but really, a lot of us started in the same boat as you, myself included. I unfortunately just missed the Patreon era, but I remember when I was a diehard fan of LO, it was one of the biggest facets of my friendship with the person who introduced me to it, I would literally be swiping my app refreshing it over and over again in the last seconds leading up to new updates trying to get the episode to just load, I drew fanart, I even did a tattoo of it once for that same friend who got me into it, and yes, I was really pissed that there was an anti community surrounding it.

It's crazy to think back on those times. I do miss how the comic used to make me feel, but at the same time, I know there's no going back to that time so I try to make the best of what I have now within the critic community, and what I've gained since then in terms of dissecting and discussing literature.

I feel so much for your feelings regarding the SA plot, I'm also a victim of SA so it was one of the biggest plot points that drew me into the comic in the first place, so it was really hard to truly realize what the series had become as the SA plotline took a backseat and the characterizations fell apart. It felt like something that I had gone through - and many others who also related to Persephone's struggles - was being used for cheap drama and that feels especially apparent now with how the series seems to be backpedaling it, or at least, replacing it with different motivations to make Apollo the villain, almost like it's an attempt to distract us from the SA and make us want to see his downfall for reasons that Rachel can quantify in a more black and white "good vs evil" kind of way.

I'm so glad you like Rekindled, I made it for people like you and I who loved LO once upon a time but mourn for what it once was before it turned into what it is now. It's been such a cathartic project for me and I'm so happy that others enjoy it too <3

[makeitastrength]

Hi! Missing your fics and wondering if you wanna tease anything you've got coming soon?

Hey anon! Thanks so much for dropping by 😊

I didn't mean to go so long without posting but life has just been super busy lately. As usual, I have a bazillion and one WIPs I haven't managed to finish. I also have a fic I've been writing as I rewatch the series and it's basically a complete dissection of chenford's feelings for each other from 1x01 up through 4x22. It's been a fun challenge to write and it's turned into a 45k word monstrosity and it's finally almost done and I'm so excited to share it!

For now, here is a sneak peek from season 2.

Lucy is fine.

Despite what everyone else seems to think, she’s fine.

But deep down, she knows she’s not. She’s been white knuckling it since the moment they pulled out of the station yesterday, and she knows, despite her denials, that Harper and Lopez understand what happened last night. She knows she overreacted, and she knows that visceral instinct probably isn’t going away for a while.

And she really does appreciate Harper’s support and her willingness to help.

But the truth is, the first semblance of safety Lucy feels is when she turns around to find Tim standing behind her, tossing a compliment at her in a way that only he could pull off.

She thinks that’s the end of it, turns back to the bag, but then Tim is speaking again, telling her about his own scars and giving her a glimpse into a childhood she knows nothing about. And she knows what he’s trying to do, knows he’s trying to show her that he can relate to what she’s going through. She appreciates his attempts to help, too. She does. But his scars are different, and she doesn’t want to push him away, but she needs him to understand that it’s not the same.

She went on a date with a serial killer who tattooed her and buried her alive, and despite her psychology degree and months of training as a cop, she somehow missed all the signs that could have prevented her from ending up there in the first place. Instead, she now has a permanent reminder of her failure inked into her skin.

Lucy opens her mouth to fight back – to tell Tim that she appreciates his attempts to help but that he’s missing the point – but before she can he’s speaking again, and this time he’s saying everything she didn’t realize she needed to hear.

But you didn’t die.

I see it as proof that you’re a survivor.

It was the first day of the rest of your life.

And then he tosses her ring back to her and smiles softly, and Lucy is hit by so many emotions she can’t even begin to decipher them all.

Her feelings for Tim have gotten… complicated. She likes him. Not like that. Just… as a person.

But it’s more than that, because now he’s not just the guy she spends twelve hours a day with, sometimes navigating all kinds of complex and often dangerous situations and sometimes simply talking about any and everything. Now, he’s the guy who has her back without question. He’s the guy who is willing to share painful pieces of his own trauma just to help her come to terms with hers. He’s the guy who pulled her from the ground and breathed air back into her lungs and spent the night at her hospital bedside.

She owes him her life.

She owes him… everything.

And she’s not quite sure how to reconcile the man standing in front of her with the one who used to make her life a living hell in every possible way.

[sankttealeaf]

painted skies

part one | part two || AO3

pairing ; arthur morgan x gender neutral!reader

summary ; you cross paths again with Arthur and decide to follow up on an offer he gave you the last time you met.

warnings ; gun violence, injuries, blood, nightmares

other info ; here is part three <3 reader and arthur go on a little adventure together! i'm so out of my depth writing anything romantic, i'm an angst girlie at heart - but this year is abt doing new things!!! also thanks for all the love on this series, it rly warms my heart and i love seeing everyone's reactions to it! this is double the length of the previous two chapters, not sure what happened there. hope u enjoy!! <3 (i've also included the AO3 link if that's more your thing!)

word count: 19.5k (it's a long one!)

After your very successful exhibition a few weeks back, things had been going well for you. The money from your paintings came in and you made sure to keep most of it aside for the future - the last thing you wanted to do was to spend it all on pointless things and fall back to square one again.

You had a few new clients lined up ready to discuss purchasing some of your work from you, which only added to your feeling of success. It was nice to have a steady source of income, especially after so long of nothing. You put most of the success down to Arthur and his help at the exhibition - there was no way you would be in this position if it weren't for him. It must've been fate for your paths to have crossed, though you tried not to believe too much in fate and destiny. The last thing you wanted was to get caught up in dissecting the meaning of everything, wondering if it was actually fate or just a simple coincidence. There was no time for that. Yours and Arthur's paths had crossed at the right time, and that was that. No hidden meaning, no divine intervention, nothing. 

Just two ships passing in the night.

You had noticed that since your last meeting with Arthur that the man made an appearance in your mind more often than you cared to admit. Sometimes you would find yourself sitting at your table, glancing over to where he once sat, wondering what he could be up to. There was still a large aura of mystery around him and you wanted to dig deeper, to break through his walls and find out what lay underneath. But you couldn't exactly do that when he wasn't here. So, you waited. You made excuses to go outside more in the hopes that you walked into him. Your heartbeat would race every time you heard a knock at your door, and then drop when it was just a friend or a neighbour asking for something.

It had gotten to the point where your friends would comment about how your face would fall every time you opened the door to them, and you were quick to brush it off. It wasn't like you wanted him to be behind every knock, you just… missed his company. Yes, that was it. You missed his company. That's what you kept telling yourself. 

The days following your last encounter with him you kept replaying every moment in your mind, especially everything that led up to you kissing his cheek. Where that sudden burst of confidence came from you had no idea, but something about it stuck in your mind and now every time he crossed your thoughts you couldn't help but blush and feel very nervous. 

The idea that maybe you had more than friendly feelings towards him came after a night out with your friends - you were celebrating one of your friends engagement, and after a few too many drinks you had started to spill the beans to them about Arthur - the mysterious man who you thought about a lot, the person who helped you out with your work, who was the reason you had a lot of extra cash on you these days. Your friends teased you, poking fun at you and telling you that you obviously had a crush, and you were quick to dismiss their claims. It wasn't like that, you said, and they laughed and the conversation moved on. Lucky for you, the night ended with everyone far too drunk to remember what happened that evening. 

You remembered it though, and it left you stuck thinking about what they said on loop, trying to convince yourself that it wasn't true. Two ships. Friends. Nothing more.

Today was your day of doing things. You had errands to run, mostly for food, but you wanted to drop by Wiedemann & Carter to pick up some more materials. Your stock of canvases has started to run low, and you preferred to have a few extra around just in case of an emergency. Rumours had also started to circulate through your friend group that there were new jams in stock over at Perrault Preserves, and you really wanted to indulge yourself in something nice. Art supplies, jams and actual food. Just the things people need to survive.

The day was proving to be a hot one, the air thick as you walked through the streets. It was late spring at this point, and you were already dreading the hot summer that would follow. Saint Denis was great until the heat got too much to bear and you felt like you were melting in your apartment. It could always get worse, you told yourself as you tried to stick to the shade as much as possible, wanting to make the most of the cooler air.

The docks felt a little cooler, partly due to the open space and partly due to the soft breeze that came from the water. Still stuffy, though. Still too warm.

You were quick to make your way to the general store, going over the list of things you needed in your head. There were some items you’d prefer to get at the market, but at this time of day it was usually busy and the thought of being surrounded by a crowd in this heat was less than ideal. 

You gave a small smile and a nod towards the shopkeep, and began to search the shelves for the things you needed. Some biscuits, some ground coffee, and maybe some candy to treat yourself. You considered the canned goods, but decided against it. They tasted better fresh, which meant that you would need to visit the market for them. Maybe tomorrow morning, that way you could beat the rush. You made idle conversation with the shopkeeper as he rang up your goods, and you paid. With a warm smile, you left. Easy. Next stop, the art supplies store.

You stepped out onto the street, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a horse with a very familiar pattern, hitched outside. You couldn’t help but smile, immediately making your way over to her.

"Hey there, bud," you cooed softly. "You're lookin' as pretty as ever. Here-" You rummaged through your bag quickly, pulling out a peppermint that you had just bought. "Want a treat?"

She happily nosed against your hand, quick to eat the treat. With a gentle bump against your arm, you took a step back, not wanting her to try and eat the rest of your groceries. 

"Sorry, girl. That's all I've got for you. I need the rest of these for myself," you said apologetically, though you were sure she didn't mind. It was then you realised you never found out her name from Arthur. You looked around you, trying to see if you could spot him.

“Where did he get to, huh?” You said, giving her a gentle scratch on her forehead. There was no sign of him anywhere, and you couldn't help but feel saddened at the thought that maybe you had missed him this time. You couldn't wait by his horse forever - there were more errands you needed to run today. As heavy as your heart was, you gave a final pat on her neck, mumbling a small goodbye to her before setting off on your way. 

You walked down the road, putting your bag of groceries carefully into your other bag as you pushed down any disappointment you had about not seeing Arthur. It was fine, you told yourself. There would be plenty of other opportunities to say hello and to catch up. Life happens, and that was okay. You pushed your thoughts to other things as you walked, taking your mind off of Arthur, until you heard your name being called out from in front of you. Looking up, you first noticed the familiar hat that he wore, before you caught him moving past people to approach you. Arthur was wearing a similar outfit to the one you first saw him in, though this time his sleeves were rolled up and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. You pulled your eyes away from his arms and chest, giving him a warm smile.

"Arthur!"

"What're you doin' here?" he asked, matching the smile on your face.

"I live here!" You replied, wishing you had thought of something better to say than the obvious. "I mean, I'm running errands. Getting food, buying supplies. Today is my day of doing things I’ve been putting off."

"Guess we're both doin' the same thing today." He held up his hand, which you now saw had a few letters in it. That made sense; he came from the direction of the post office.

“Someone’s popular.”

“They ain’t all for me. Most are for…” He paused, and you could see him think over his words before speaking again. “For others.”

“Are you stealing mail now?”

“No, no. Not yet, anyway. I may have to reconsider my life if I ever get to the point of stealin’ mail from others.” He laughed at that, continuing to walk down the road in the direction of where his horse was hitched. That was something you could scratch from the list of possible occupations Arthur had now that you knew he didn't steal mail. Though, it still left you with too many other options. He stopped a few feet from you, looking to see if you were following. You then fell into step next to him, giving him a quick smile. 

“You’re one tricky person to stumble across, you know,” he said after a few moments of walking in silence, and you gave him an odd look.

“Have you been looking out for me?” It was funny to think that both of you were simply waiting for the other to turn up out of nowhere. “You know where I live. You could’ve dropped by whenever.”

“Thought it would be weird if I did that.” He shrugged halfheartedly, as he made his way over to his horse, opening up a saddle bag and stowing the letters away.

“Well,” you started, approaching his horse again and giving her a gentle scratch on her forehead. “I can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you to show up at some point…”

He paused, looking at you. “You were?”

“Did you not hear when I said to drop by whenever you visited the city?” You let out a small laugh, as his horse nudged your shoulder, demanding more affection.

“I didn't realise you meant it. Just… thought it was out of politeness,” he replied, as you shook your head. All this time you were sitting there, waiting for Arthur to drop by and he was doing the same exact thing, wandering the city in hopes of bumping into you.

“How many times have you stopped by here since we last saw each other?” you asked out of curiosity, watching as his cheeks turned a faint shade of red.

“Only a few. Been runnin’ errands for the rest of us back at camp,” he said, and you were quick to note that down, gaining more insight on Arthur and who he was.

You nodded, eyeing him carefully. “So you’re located somewhere nearby, huh?”

“A little ride away. And that’s all you’re gettin’. There’s no point keeping low if I start tellin’ everyone where we are hiding.”

“I didn't know you were laying low, either. I’m learning so much about you, Arthur Morgan.” You grinned, moving around his horse to stand closer. “Mysterious man shows up with a pretty horse, helps me sell my artwork for more than it’s worth, and claims he does ‘nothing good’. I don’t even know the name of your horse that helped me to make all that money! But now? Now I know you’re hiding from something. What are you runnin’ from, Mister Morgan?”

He looked down at you, his face unwavering. You tried to search for something, anything to give you a hint as to who he really was, but you couldn’t find anything. He gestured his head to his horse, and smiled. “Artemis.”

You blinked. “You’re running from the god?”

He laughed, shaking his head as you realised what question he was answering. Artemis was his horse’s name. That made more sense.

“Artemis… Suits her,” you said, watching as he walked around you, giving her a pat on her neck.

“Were you on your way back home?” he asked, searching through his bag and pulling out an oatcake for Artemis.

“Oh, I have a few more errands to run. What about you?” You were hoping that you could spend a few more moments with him.

“I gotta visit the gunsmith, somethin’s up with one of my revolvers and I can’t seem to work out what’s up with it at this point,” he said, and you nodded, your eyes automatically dropping to his hips where two of his guns were holstered. Your mind had managed to forget that part of him every time you recalled the time spent together, and now you felt a little silly for doing so.

“Ah.” You looked back up at him. “Well, if you want some company over there, I’m happy to walk with you.”

“Sure, that’d be nice.” He gave you a smile. “You doin’ alright since we last talked?”

You caught him up with what had been going on since the exhibition - explaining how the other paintings sold as well, and how you had a few clients lined up who were eager to get their hands on some of your work. It was refreshing to have a steady stream of work to do, and you were excited to get started. You threw the question back to Arthur, who kept his answer brief. He had been busy, though with what you still weren’t too sure, and told you that he had met some other interesting people while in Saint Denis. The city had a habit of attracting the strange and curious, and you had lost count of how many odd people you came across.

The streets were busy as you walked up the road towards the gunsmiths, and you stopped outside of it, looking in the windows at the guns on display. It was an area of life you were very far from, and in a way you were lucky that you didn't need to rely on a gun to stay safe out there. Though learning how to use one couldn’t hurt…

“You comin’ in, too?” Arthur asked, pushing open the door as he looked at you.

Out of the many stores in the city, you weren’t sure if you had even stepped foot in the gunsmith’s. It wasn’t a place you needed to visit, but your curiosity got the better of you as you nodded, wanting to see what was inside. Guns, probably, you thought. Arthur held the door open for you as you stepped in, immediately feeling very out of place here.

The shopkeeper gave you both a smile and a nod, as Arthur went straight towards him, leaving you standing awkwardly by the door. Guns and bullets and other weapons were displayed in cabinets behind barred doors. You thought it was a smart idea to keep them locked away, especially in a city like this. One thing that felt a little out of place to you was the large amount of dead animals that either were taxidermied or were their bones that lined the walls. The alligator that stood in the middle of the room caught your eye, and you gave it a curious look, half expecting it to shut its mouth and start moving. What an odd thing to have in a gunshop, you thought.

The shopkeep and Arthur began talking, and you decided to take a look around at the wares and make the most of your time here - you were pretty sure you wouldn't need to step foot in here again. You picked up a small box of bullets, gently turning it around in your hand as you listened to Arthur’s conversation, keeping your back to the both of them. He was explaining an issue with his revolver, how sometimes it would get jammed for no reason - no amount of cleaning or messing around with it helped. You heard footsteps walk off, and turned to look over your shoulder. The shopkeeper was gone, and Arthur was leaning against the counter, tapping his fingers against it as he waited. You set the box of bullets down, and walked over to him.

“Sure is a lot of stuff here,” you said, your eyes scanning the weapons on the wall behind the counter.

“A lot of it’s overpriced, too,” he said quietly, leaning towards you as he spoke. “I wouldn't buy anythin’ here, go further from the city and it gets a lot cheaper.”

"I'll keep that in mind," you replied, picking up a box of revolver cartridges that were on the counter, popping the lid open to look inside. "I never really wrapped my head around guns."

"They aren't too complicated once you understand 'em," he said, taking the box from you. He examined the bullets for a moment, before closing it up and swiftly dropping the box into his satchel.

Your eyes widened at the movement, at how easily he slipped them into his bag. Arthur grinned down at you, and held a finger up to his lips. With a wink, he faced away as footsteps were heard entering the room. The shopkeep returned, holding Arthur's revolver in his hand.

"This should work now," he said, placing the gun on the counter for Arthur to take. You spotted a small engraving on the handle of the gun - a small stag. He took his gun before you could get a proper look, flipping it over in his hand.

“It definitely feels better,” he said, checking and double checking areas that he thought were the issue. It looked the same to you, but guns aren't your forte. He seemed satisfied enough though, and slipped the shopkeeper some money and holstered the gun.

He took the money from the counter, and then turned to face you. “And anything for you?”

“Oh, no thank you. I don’t…” You gestured vaguely to the weapons around you that were behind glass, “I don’t use this sort of stuff.”

“Not even a knife?” Arthur asked in disbelief. “You walk around weaponless in a city like this?”

“Nothin’ bad has happened so far. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” There had been a few times where someone tried to rob you, but that was when you had nothing much of value on your person, and most of the time the robbery ended up dissolving as you ran away quickly, utilising your knowledge of the backstreets and alleyways to try and lose the thief.

Arthur didn't seem impressed with your answer, and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s your knife collection like here?” he asked the shopkeeper, who walked out from behind the counter, moving to grab a few from the display.

“It’s really not a big deal,” you muttered, glancing up at Arthur quickly.

He leaned down, and spoke softly. “Even if you don’t use it to look after yourself, you can use it to open your fancy boxes of paint or somethin’.”

A small selection of knives were laid out on the counter, and you weren’t too certain on what the difference was in any of them. The handles all looked different, and some of them were smaller than the others, but they were still sharpened metal. Arthur gently nudged your arm, pointing to the one on the far left.

“That’s probably your safest bet,” he said, and you trusted his opinion. You didn't trust yourself to use it properly.

“My safest bet is being quick enough to run away, actually,” you replied.

“What if they throw a knife at you?”

“Hope they’ll miss me?” You picked up the knife to feel the weight of it in your hand. It was heavier than a bread knife, which was one of the few knives you had experience in using. You looked at Arthur, unimpressed by it all.

“Don’t look too excited by it,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. You felt a little ridiculous, so you put the knife down with an apologetic smile to the shopkeeper - he wasn’t going to get a sale from you today.

“Maybe some other time. I don’t think I’m quite ready to be a knife owner yet.” You gave him a nod, taking a step away from the counter and towards the door. Arthur noticed you leaving and said a quick thanks to the shopkeep for fixing the issue with his gun. He followed you to the door, leaning over to open it for you.

The contrast in brightness caught you off guard as you stepped outside, waiting for your eyes to adjust from the dimly lit gunshop to the early afternoon sun. It was times like these where you considered investing in a hat, as you looked up to see Arthur mostly unbothered by it.

“Have you been into Wiedemann and Carter yet?” you asked, remembering that you still needed to visit it. The store was up the road, so it only made sense to see if Arthur had dropped by yet. It was the best place for an artist to go to. If he hadn't - you were more than happy to show him.

“Can’t say that I have. I ain’t really seen much of the place, if I’m honest.” He adjusted his hat to block the sunlight more. “Had some kids start to show me around, then the bastards robbed me.”

You let out a laugh at that, the image of Arthur getting robbed was something you didn't expect to imagine today. “You? Getting robbed by a bunch of kids? I’d pay good money to see that happen again. Did they hold you at knifepoint? Asking for your money or your life?”

“Cut my bag, actually. I had to chase the little shit halfway across the city for it.”

“Yeah, the street kids are slippery bastards. Word of advice: don’t even look in their direction, ever.” You had heard stories from other people about how quick the kids of Saint Denis can rob you blind, and you always made sure to pass on useful advice to anyone visiting - simply do not look at them.

Arthur nodded. “Noted.”

You walked the short distance up the road to Wiedemann and Carter, the coral coloured exterior helping it stand out against the surrounding buildings. It was one place you could pinpoint on a map if someone asked you to.

The sound of a bell chiming to signal someone had entered was heard, and you immediately felt at home. Various artistic materials lined the shelves, with new stock rotating in weekly. You made it your goal to visit as often as you could, just to see what was new, to the point where you were on a first name basis with one of the shop owners, a German fella named Bruno. He gave you a smile as you walked inside, Arthur following behind you. 

“It didn't cross my mind to think this place would be an art supply store,” he said quietly, eyes darting around the room at the various paints and pencils and paper types.

You gave him a smile, before walking up to the counter, greeting Bruno with a nod. Quick conversation was made, as he then left the room to go and grab the order you had placed last week. There was a small bowl of hard candies on the counter, and you grabbed one, putting it in your bag for later.

“Who’s stealing now, hm?” Arthur called out, and you turned to face him quickly.

“No… it’s not stealing! They’re free. I’m not the thief here.” You gave him a frown, still not quite believing that he stole something right in front of you just minutes ago. He didn't even seem phased by the act, which only proved to you that he had done it before.

“I’ve always been taught that if it’s not locked down, it’s free to a good home,” he said with a shrug, holding a small palette of watercolour paints in his hand. Your frown deepened when he began to move it towards his bag.

“Arthur, don’t you dare.”

His other hand hovered over the clasps of his bag, and you shook your head in disappointment, turning away so you couldn’t see him steal something… again.

“I’m just messin’ with you,” he said, and you heard the sound of it being placed back on the shelf. “If it bothers you, I can put the bullets back.”

It was an offer you hadn’t expected to hear from him, and you tried your best to conceal your confusion. “I think it might look a bit suspicious if you did that.” You gently tapped your fingers against the countertop, wondering what was taking Bruno so long. If it bothers you… petty thieves usually didn't care what others thought about when they stole. But the phrase kept repeating in your mind as you waited.

“Y'know, there’s some pretty good stuff in here,” Arthur said, moving to stand next to you, leaning up against the counter. "Might have to get something." You felt him bump his shoulder against yours. 

“If there is anything you like, buy it now. Bruno usually gives me things at a discount,” you replied, ignoring the contact. “And I’d be happy to let you borrow my discount, just this once. If it means you won’t steal anything.”

“I ain’t stealin’ anything here. I respect the arts. Don’t respect people who charge more for things than what they’re worth.” He grabbed a handful of the candies in the bowl, shoving them into his pocket for later. You wanted to comment on the irony of that, and how Arthur helped to upsell your artwork for you but you held your tongue as Bruno walked back, holding a small bag. 

"Your canvases have yet to arrive, but when they do I will let you know," he said, pushing the bag towards you. His eye caught Arthur's, and Bruno grinned. "Ah, and who is this? Oh! Oh, is this your muse you speak so highly of? The handsome stranger who saved your ass a few weeks ago?"

Your face turned bright red at that, having told Bruno that in total confidence and secrecy. "No, it's not- I mean, yes, but it was his horse that helped me," you sputtered out quickly, trying to avoid looking at Arthur. You heard him laugh softly, which didn't help the redness in your cheeks or the fumbling over your words. 

Bruno laughed, waving your flustered comments off, and then turned to Arthur. "I have heard many things about you. And have seen a few drawings of you, too.”

"That so?" Arthur replied with a sly smile, seeming to enjoy the torture that you were being put through.

"Yes! Oh, the things that I have heard! It would make a grown man blush!" Bruno said dramatically, and now you knew he was making things up. The things you had said to him were completely normal. He was trying to get a rise out of you, and you refused to let him.

"You're ridiculous," you mumbled, quickly taking out the money you owed him, placing it on the counter and grabbing the bag. You made your way to the door quickly before you could hear him say anything else. 

The chime of the bell echoed behind you as you stood out onto the street, cursing the day for being so warm that it didn't help cool you off after that encounter. There goes confiding in Bruno anytime you have a problem…

The bell chimed again as Arthur walked out of the store, the smile still on his face from before. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole, and refused to meet his gaze.

"Handsome, huh?" Arthur gently nudged you with his arm, and you pushed his elbow away lightly.

"Shut it," you grumbled, taking a breath to compose yourself. "I was obviously talking about your horse."

"Ah, of course!” He exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and grinning. “Of all the things you could call her, handsome was the most fittin'?" 

Arthur was extremely close to you now, and you silently cursed him for causing your heartbeat to quicken again. "She can be handsome…" 

"I ain't denying it. Just a curious word to use… for a horse." He had leaned in closer when he said that, and you hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

He was right, it wasn’t the best excuse to use, but what else could you do? Admit that you found him handsome and had spoken highly about him in passing to others? Never. You would rather die with that confession than tell him. Pushing that thought back down in your mind, you recalled something from a previous conversation.

With his arm still around you, you looked up at him. “You said something about not seeing much of the city earlier,” you started, as he looked at you in confusion, trying to piece where that had come from out of nowhere.

“Not since those kids robbed me,” he replied. “Why? You offerin’ tours now?”

“For a small price.” You thought you were holding yourself well, until he tilted his head towards you, a smile tugging at the end of his lips.

“Oh yeah? What kind?” His voice was low, and you caught yourself glancing down at his lips as he spoke. Maybe if you were feeling bolder, you would’ve tested the waters out to see where he stood with you. But now was not the time for that, and you cleared your throat quickly, making direct eye contact with him.

“Have lunch with me. You said that drinks were on you back at the exhibition, but you never specified what drinks. So… tea and cake?”

Arthur blinked, not expecting that at all. “Tea and cake?”

You nodded. “There’s a few really good tearooms here. Le Lion D’Or is my favourite, and they’re reasonably priced, too.”

He considered your offer for a moment, moving his arm from your shoulder. “The kids asked me for five dollars, y’know.”

“I accept tips if you really want to part with more of your money,” you said with a laugh.

He held out his arm for you to take. “Better make this your best tour ever, then.”

And you did. You dragged him down each street, pointing out places and buildings and bringing up the odd historical fact you knew about the city you loved. You gave him an in depth lesson on the trolley system, pointing out each stop and where each one took you to, as well as whispering gossip as you passed faces you recognized in passing. Arthur was happy to indulge you when he noticed how excited you got speaking about something, asking questions and listening with great intent and a wide smile on his face. He seemed to enjoy this as much as you. It felt comfortable walking arm in arm with him, like this was something that was supposed to happen no matter how many times you told yourself that it was just a fleeting moment of happiness with someone.

You paused when you arrived at the wealthier part of the city, gesturing vaguely to the large houses that stood before you. “Can you guess who lives down these parts?”

“Easily robbable people, I reckon,” Arthur replied, taking note of the house you stood in front of, giving a nod to the gardener who was tending to the flowers.

“The mayor lives right down there. Can’t miss his place,” you said, pointing down the road. “His annual gala is at the end of the week. Lots of rich people will be there, but the best part is the fireworks. You can see them from anywhere in the city!”

“Fireworks?” He raised an eyebrow at that, as you both continued walking.

“Yes! Last year they had a whole display, it went on for ages!” You smiled at the memory - you and your friends camped up on a rooftop of one of their apartments, watching the fireworks from afar. It was like you were there at the party.

“You’ll have to show me where the best place to see them is,” he said, and you were uncertain if he was simply asking for a recommendation or wanted to watch them with you. You kept your gaze ahead of you, knowing by now that your cheeks were flushed red.

“Do you want to know now or on the evening of the gala?” You could feel him looking at you, and you caught his eye for a moment, wanting confirmation of his suggestion.

“Show me on the night.” He gave you a grin, and you were blushing at the idea of watching the fireworks with him. There was something so romantic about it, and you wished deep down that he saw it the same.

You made sure to end the tour by Le Lion D’Or, and made a grand statement that they served the best cake you have ever eaten, which was another reason why you suggested this place. Only the best was to be seen and eaten on this tour.

There was a free table outside that you told Arthur to wait at, while you went inside and ordered some food for you both. You had no idea what Arthur’s tea preference was, so you made a guess based on what you knew of him. With everything ordered, you let the server know you were sitting outside, and returned back to Arthur with a smile. He was leaning back in his seat, arms folded over his chest and hat on the table.

“So… How was the tour?” you asked, sliding into the seat next to him. “Would you recommend me to a friend?”

He hummed softly, looking at you and pretending to consider his answer for longer than needed. "You were pretty good. And you didn't try 'n rob me, either."

"There's always next time. Though, I'll admit that my sleight of hand skills are not the best. You could probably catch me quite quickly," you said, making a note to look him up and down to pinpoint where he could be hiding items on himself. There were candies in his pocket - you saw him put them there, and his guns were easily reachable but not the smartest thing to pretend to steal.

"If you can take somethin' from me without me knowing, I'll be real impressed," he said, and you took that as a challenge. Not now, he would be expecting it, but soon. You would take something from him and not have him catch you doing so. 

The server you spoke to earlier came out with a tray holding a rather ornate tea set, setting it down on the table for you both. A platter of small cakes soon followed, and you gave Arthur a grin once the server left.

"Best cakes ever, I promise you." You began to pour yourself some tea, as Arthur took one of the little cakes, eyeing it closely.

"Are they made this small on purpose?" he asked.

"It's the whole point of afternoon tea, I think. Small cakes, small sandwiches, small everything." You weren't entirely certain that was true, but it made sense in your mind. Afternoon tea was more about socialising, anyway. 

He still didn't look convinced that this was worth it, so you gestured for him to try the cake. You watched, taking a small sip of your tea as he took a bite.

"Guess you were right about this bein' good cake," he said, as you smiled at him. You knew you would be right, having spent a lot of money here whenever you needed a pick-me-up. They even did a takeout box of cake that you would indulge in whenever you had a reason to celebrate. You thought back to the last time you had them - after your exhibition, and then remembered the offer Arthur gave to you there. It had been on the back of your mind since you last spoke, and you thought that now was the best time to bring it up to him.

"I've been thinking about your offer," you started, taking a sip of tea to calm your nerves. "About travelling. Seeing the world." Arthur raised an eyebrow curiously. You took that as a sign to carry on. "And… if you aren't too busy, I'd like to cash it in... If that's alright?" You studied his face closely, trying to work out if he had actually meant what he said all those weeks ago or if he had simply said it out of politeness. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest. The question still lingered in the air and you were about to take it back when he spoke up.

"You got a place in mind you want to visit?" he asked, putting in a sugar cube into his tea.

"I heard Strawberry was nice. It's surrounded by trees, and it looks pretty from what I've read."

Arthur let out a small scoff, shaking his head. "Strawberry ain't much…"

You sank a little in your seat, crossing it out on the list in your mind.

"Folk, uh, they don't like me much up there, anyway," he quickly added, noticing your expression change.

"What do you mean?"

He looked down at his teacup, gently pushing it aside as he leaned forward. You copied him. "Got into a fight up there. Whole town got involved, real big thing. Reckon if I show up there again they might try 'n hang me." 

Your eyes widened as he sat back, picking up one of the little cakes and examining it casually, like what he had just said was something normal.

"That's… sure something." Everything you heard about the town sounded so nice and calm. Nothing like what Arthur was saying. Your mind recalled one of the articles you had read in the papers about a jailbreak that took place in Strawberry a while back. That couldn’t be the same thing Arthur was talking about, right?

He shrugged. "I think anyone would want to kill you if you shoot them first."

"You started it?"

"Well, not really. Sort of. It's a long story."

It seemed to never end with learning new things about him. You went down the list of nearby towns you had considered, and one by one Arthur told you that he wasn't welcome back there for similar reasons.

Rhodes? Got into a fight with the whole town, people don't like him. Valentine? Got into a fight with the town, people don't like him there either. All places you had read about in the papers, all that had issues with either gangs or feuds between families. There was a pattern, and you decided to aim a bit further away.

"What about Blackwater? I'm not sure if it's still on lockdown, though, so it might be off the table because of that…" You said, remembering reading about the incident that took place there in the newspaper. It came as a shock, especially because of how much progress it had been making in terms of finding its place in the world. People were calling it a massacre, which only painted the worst image in your mind.

Arthur was quiet, watching you as you waited for a response, taking a small sip of your tea. When he didn't say anything, you frowned. With the previous conversation about how unwelcome he was in other places, you couldn't help but piece together that maybe he wasn't welcome in Blackwater, too. It was a large leap to assume he was also involved in the big shootout that took place there a while back, but it didn't seem too unlikely, given what you now knew about him.

"You weren't…" You let the rest of the sentence trail off, though it was clear what you were implying.

Arthur looked away, crossing his arms over his chest as he began to take note of who was around. You saw him tense up, his jaw was set and he frowned, the conversation not being one he wanted to take part in. A silence fell over you both, and you started to think about how ridiculous the current situation was. Here you were, sitting opposite an outlaw who currently had a pretty big bounty on his head, at least you assumed so from what the newspaper said about the Blackwater incident. There were plenty of opportunities where he could have robbed you or killed you, but he didn't. Instead, you were having tea with him.

You couldn't help but laugh.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at you. "What?"

"Sorry," you said, covering your mouth to try and stifle your laughter. "You're a wanted criminal… and I'm sitting opposite you and we're having tea and cake together."

He blinked, and you caught the glimpse of a smile across his face. "I guess it is pretty funny. Damn good cake, too."

"What did I tell you?" You beamed at him, as he picked up a little slice of carrot cake and ate it.

The smart thing to do would be to go and inform the law, let them know that there was a criminal here that needed to face justice. But so far, no one had recognized Arthur from what you could tell, and he had been very nice to you. You didn't know how much the bounty was on his head, but the money wasn't something that you cared about. If you did, then maybe you would consider turning him in. But you liked his company… and his horse.

"I'm not going to say anything," you said quietly, leaning across the table to keep unwanted ears from listening. "About… you know…"

Arthur nodded. "That's good to know, especially because I wasn't even there."

"Where?" You feigned ignorance.

"Good." 

You could hear the comments from your friends, calling you foolish for being around a known criminal, but you pushed them out of your mind. There were better things to concern yourself about than Arthur's criminal history. If anything, it just made him more interesting. It gave him a certain charm you couldn’t find in Saint Denis. How strange it was for an outlaw to befriend someone like you…

"If you're still interested in travellin', I do have a spot in mind I could take you to?" Arthur said after a few moments of quiet, bringing you back to the whole reason you were having this conversation.

"Where are you thinking?" 

"Might keep it a surprise. It's whether you trust me or not?"

You gave him a grin. "You've yet to kill me so far. I trust you."

Arthur nodded, finishing his tea and setting the cup down. "Alright. I have t' go and deliver some things back to…” He paused, even though it was clear you at least knew the group he ran with, “people… so how about we meet somewhere after?" 

"The Bastille Saloon?" You suggested, knowing that it was a pretty central place and usually busy enough that if, for some reason Arthur did have bad intentions, enough people would probably recall you were there if you did go missing. Not that you thought Arthur would murder you, but you couldn't be too careful now.

"I'll meet you there." With a tip of his hat he stood up, putting some money on the table for you to use to pay with, keeping his promise. You watched him walk down the street back towards the docks.

What were you getting yourself into?

You finished up your drink after Arthur had left, and made a beeline straight back home. There was no point wasting time trying to be organised, so you grabbed a small bag, shoving in anything you could think of that you may need for a trip out. Arthur had kept the information about where you were going a secret, so you were unsure if you needed to prepare for a night away or not. To be on the safe side, you packed an extra change of clothes and shoved in a bedroll you had used a handful of times before. You got a separate bag for any art supplies, putting in your sketchbook, some pencils and a small watercolour set you had bought recently. It was a good occasion to try it out. 

As you rushed around your home, grabbing some food for the journey, you forced yourself to stop to think about the situation. You were travelling to somewhere unknown with a man you had met only twice before. This sounded like the start of a bad headline in the news, or a horror novel. And with what you now knew about Arthur if it ever came down to trying to fight him, you were certain that you would lose.

You let out a small laugh. "If I die, at least it's by the hands of a handsome man."

With that, you picked up your bags, grabbed a light jacket just in case, and left.

La Bastille Saloon was busy, the lunch rush taking up most of the tables inside while a group of men sat around the poker table, in the middle of what looked to be a pretty high stakes game. You had hoped that you could sit inside and wait for Arthur, but there weren’t any seats left and you didn't fancy waiting at the bar for him. Turning on your heel, you left as quick as you entered, standing a little away from the door and the group of men who were gathered by it, smoking and talking. You caught glimpses of their conversation, but it wasn’t anything exciting and you drowned out their voices, instead going over what you had packed in your head to make sure you didn't forget anything.

It didn't take long to hear a familiar voice call your name, and you saw Arthur coming down the street, giving you a wave from atop Artemis. You waved back, as Artemis stopped in front of you.

“You ready to go?” Arthur asked, holding a hand out for you to take.

“I’m as ready as I can be.” You grabbed his hand as he helped you up onto Artemis, and with a small click from Arthur you both set off down the street. The sudden movement was something you weren’t expecting yet and you grabbed onto Arthur’s waist to steady yourself, still not completely used to being on horseback. He let out a small laugh, and you felt his hand gently pat one of yours, resting it there.

“D’you need a moment to sort yourself out?” He turned, looking over his shoulder at you.

You shook your head at him, feeling his hand move away from yours. “I think I’m good now.” 

"You let me know if you need to stop, alright?"

"Alright."

It was different to pass by places on horseback rather than walking, and in a way you were grateful that you weren’t having to walk somewhere - you didn't think you had it in you to hike while also carrying plenty of art supplies and other belongings.

Artemis walked slowly through the city, being careful not to run into anyone. It was slow going, having to stop and wait for a trolley or person to cross the street before you could continue, but eventually Arthur pushed Artemis into a trot as you reached the edge of the city, crossing the bridge to get into the swampy roads of Bayou Nwa. 

It was nice to see greenery everywhere you looked, but you weren’t entirely comfortable with the increase of gators sitting by the side of the road, half in the swamp and half out. You eyed them cautiously as you passed, waiting for them to suddenly move to try and attack you. But they didn't, happy to idly lay there, basking in the sun. Artemis had the same thought as you, and there were a few times you felt her slow down, letting out worried noises, only to be calmed by Arthur’s gentle voice, shushing her and telling her it was okay. Even after everything you knew about him, the tenderness he had around his horse was something that kept taking you by surprise. He leaned back into you, taking out a treat for her from his bag. If this was how nice he was, you didn't want to consider how he could be angry. And if what you had read about the Blackwater Massacre was true, you didn't want to know what Arthur could be like, preferring him like this and not looking at the barrel of his gun.

The scenery passed by in flashes of green, turning from thick swamps and willow trees to open fields and rolling hills. As you rode out further from the bayou, into the heart of Scarlett Meadows, you took note of every small difference. The roads became more dusty as you approached closer to Rhodes, though Arthur made sure to steer clear from the town, just in case. There was not enough time in the world to allow you to stop and sketch every small thing you saw that intrigued you, and you didn't want to ask Arthur to pull to the side of the road each time you spotted a flower or plant you wanted to get a closer look at. So you tried to memorise everything, hoping that it would stay in your mind until you were able to draw them down.

The air felt cooler the further away from the bayou you got, and it was nice to not feel as if the sun and heat were trying to suffocate you all the time. Maybe you could avoid the heat this summer and travel?

You weren't sure how long you had been riding for, and you were starting to feel stiff from sitting in one position for this long. Stifling back a yawn, you leaned your head against Arthur’s back for a moment. You felt him tense at the sudden contact, and then relaxed. His hand found yours again, giving it a soft squeeze in response.

"Ain't long left. You good back there?" Arthur asked, tilting his head slightly to catch your eye.

You nodded, moving around to try and find a more comfortable position. "I'm good. I have no idea how you can do this all the time, I’m already aching from sitting like this."

“You want to stop for a bit? We can pull to the side of the road and take a moment to rest up,” he said, and it was sweet to hear him suggest that.

“I’m fine. We can keep going,” you replied. With a nod, Artemis continued down the road and you noticed that he had yet to move his hand away from yours.

Time passed on, and the ride was mostly quiet, Arthur focusing on the road while you took in your surroundings. You didn't mind the silence at all, finding it calming to listen to the repetitive sound of hoofbeats against the dirt road and birdsong from the trees; it was a nice change of pace to the city. The air grew cooler as you rode through Scarlett Meadows, keeping to a road that was near a body of water. Flat Iron Lake was the closest open body of water that wasn’t the swamps or the Lannahechee River, so you assumed it was that. You kept your eyes on it, enjoying the ride.

When you crossed over the state into New Hanover, you sat up a little straighter, wondering if you were getting close to where Arthur was taking you. You had little experience in New Hanover, having only read things about it in books and the newspapers, but it was big and vast and you were intrigued on what you would see. From what you could remember from looking at maps, you were in the outskirts of the Heartlands, which had more open space than somewhere like Roanoke Ridge, or even in places in Lemoyne. Flat Iron Lake was still to your left, the train tracks you had been following for a while on your right. Arthur clicked for Artemis to walk off the path and you were now fully alert, watching as she weaved through the trees, heading towards the shore.

“Here we are,” Arthur spoke after a little while as Artemis walked onto the sand. “Flat Iron Lake.” He gestured to the large lake in front of you, and you sat up a little taller to take it in.

It was beautiful. The water rippled against the sand, the reeds swaying gently in the cool breeze - a welcome change from the warmth that lingered in Lemoyne. Deer drank at the water's edge, and you watched as a small group of coyotes ran around, yipping and barking as they went. It was so peaceful and you wanted to savour every moment you had here. You had yet to even dismount from Artemis and you were already saddened at the thought of leaving this place. It was so calm and serene and such a welcome change from the busy city life.

"This is beautiful…" You said in awe, keeping your voice low in fear of breaking the serenity of the place. 

"Beats the city any day," Arthur replied, giving you a smile. “No noise, no people runnin’ in front of you.”

"Sure does…" You replied. Arthur kept Artemis walking for a little longer as you made your way around the shoreline. Off in the distance you spotted a few boats on the water, up against the mountains that almost blended in with the sky. What you assumed was Blackwater seemed so close yet so far away across the water, the sun illuminating the small town. He slowed Artemis to a stop as you reached your destination, far enough away from the road now that you wouldn't be disturbed. You were quick to dismount, walking up to where the water met the sandy shore to take in the serene scene in front of you. Birdsong could be heard in the distance, and you paused for a moment to listen to the lack of trolley noise and general chatter that would be found in the city. It was beautiful. You spotted an old log that had been washed ashore, and walked towards it, deciding it would be a good place to lean up against while you draw.

“The Dakota’s up there if you want more of a river than a lake,” Arthur said, now standing beside you, pointing behind him towards the west. “And just over there is Bard’s Crossing, lotta deer over that part, too.”

“Here is good. We could always explore more later? Or even tomorrow?” you replied, shrugging off your bag and setting it down on the sand. You took a seat down beside it, rummaging through to pull out your sketchbook and a pencil. Why waste time, right? Arthur sat down next to you with a nod as you opened up to a blank page, ready to draw the scenery in front of you. 

You lost yourself in drawing, making smaller sketches to work out the best composition to then turn into a bigger painting later. Quick sketches of ducks and other waterfowl were made in the sidelines of the pages, catching them before they flew off into the afternoon. At some point you noticed Arthur had started drawing as well, the both of you sitting in a comfortable silence, pencils scratching against paper. 

You took out the small watercolour set you wanted to test out, opening up the wooden box to reveal the small compartment full of the paints. There was a little glass jar that you had filled with water the first time you used them, so you were glad you didn't need to move to refill it. You took out the small plastic plate used for mixing, and picked up one of the bigger brushes. Watercolours were a lot different to what you were used to using, and putting the first drop of colour down felt daunting. You unscrewed the lid to the water jar, dipped the brush in and hesitated over the colours. Where to start?

You wanted to paint the lake, mainly to have a reference of the colours for later - you could already picture the beautiful work in oils in your mind, but in watercolours? Something was holding you back. Oil paint could be added to weeks after you made the mark, you can alter it and change even after you thought it was finished. Watercolours didn't give you that freedom - once the paint was down, you couldn’t change it unless you painted over it to remove the mark. No matter how quickly you tried to remove the paint with tissue, the colour would still be faded on the page. You had to think about this, about where each colour needed to go and how to build up the depth. There was also a limited option of colours in this set, meaning you’d have to spend more time mixing and layering up the colours than painting. You could name all the oil paints you would need to paint this.

“Somethin’ wrong with the paints?” Arthur asked, breaking you from your internal dilemma.

You blinked, giving him a look. “What?”

“You’ve been holding the brush over the blue for a few minutes. Is it… part of your process?” He leaned to get a better look at the small box that held the paints, picking up one of the other brushes.

“No, not usually.” You watched him examine the brush, before placing it back down. “I’ve not done many watercolour paintings, so I suppose I’m feeling a little out of my depths.”

“Ain’t it just like normal painting? You put the colour on the brush and then onto the paper?” He frowned, as you shrugged.

“Yes… but, I don’t know, it feels different,” you said. “Once I start, I know I’ll be fine, but it’s the initial jump to start it that’s off-putting, you know?”

“Paint is paint. Pretend it’s what you’re used to,” he suggested, and you tried to imagine yourself back home, windows open and a palette full of oil paints in front of you. Paint is paint, you repeated in your mind, and nodded. Your brush made contact with the blue you had been hovering over and it was way too saturated to be useful to you as it was, but paint is paint - you could layer it up with other colours later. The brush glided over your drawing, giving a base wash of the blue. Now that some colour was on your page, tackling the rest of the painting felt less stressful.

“There you go. Weren’t so bad,” he said with a smile, returning to his own drawings.

Late afternoon came and went, the sun beginning to make its slow descent below the horizon. The sky began to fill with hues of pinks and reds and with the fading light you looked up from where you had been drawing. Arthur was still beside you, his journal now closed and placed on the sand between you both while he leaned against the fallen tree, his hat tilted forward to cover his face. You smiled softly, setting aside your own sketchbook by his. Was he asleep? The steady rise and fall of his chest seemed to confirm it. You tried to peek under his hat to see if his eyes were closed, but didn't have any luck. If he was asleep, you thought it was sweet that he felt comfortable enough to do so around you.

The sun was long behind you now, so you weren’t able to watch it go down without moving to a different spot, but the colours that were painted across the sky were still mesmerising. Many sunsets were often blocked by the buildings in the city, so it was nice to watch the sky uninterrupted. A flock of birds flew across the sky in a V formation, while some deer further down the shore approached the water to drink. Everything was so nice.

There was movement coming from next to you, as Arthur pulled back his hat, running a hand down his face.

"Have a good nap?" You smiled at him when he heard your voice.

"I wasn't sleepin'," he mumbled quickly, sitting upright with a roll of his shoulders. "Just… restin' my eyes."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" you teased, laughing when he waved you off.

"It's been a long day." He nudged his arm against you as he stood up, dusting off the sand from his legs. "You hungry?"

"I think I grabbed some food when I packed," you said, grabbing your bag and searching through it. Arthur watched you take out various things from your bag, pencils and folded sheets of paper until you took out some canned strawberries.

"Ah. I thought this was something else…" You said quietly. “I did pack in a bit of a rush.”

"You're surrounded by nature and you want to eat from a can?" He raised an eyebrow at you, holding his hand out to help you up. "There's plenty of food out here, waitin' to be caught."

"Like… fish?" You took a hold of his hand and pulled yourself up, still holding your can of strawberries.

"Rabbit. Deer. Hell, coyotes taste fine if you're starvin'," he explained, gesturing over to Artemis with his chin. "Got a rifle. And a fishing rod, too."

"You want to hunt for food?" 

"You ain't ever done that before?” His hands rested on his gun belt, an eyebrow raised at you and your lack of survival skills.

"Never needed to,” you said, your cosy life in the city meant that you had everything a short walk away. At the mention of his rifle, you gave a quick look down to his guns. “Never fired a gun before, either."

Arthur's eyes widened at that confession, and you could see the gears turning in his mind as he came up with an idea. “Give me ten minutes.” He grinned, turning on his heel to approach Artemis. You were a little confused about what he was doing, as he began to take some things out from one of the saddle bags. He emptied out the remains of a couple of glass bottles, moving to stack them on the log you were previously leaning against. Oh. He was setting up targets. There was an old rusty can that had washed up on the shore nearby, and that was the final target. Once everything was set up, he approached you, taking out the same gun he went to get fixed earlier that day, and held it out in your direction. You now got a clearer look at the small stag engraved on the handle, another feature that confused you. To you, it was strange to customise a weapon that could cause so much destruction. Did all outlaws engrave animals on the handles of their guns? You would have to ask him afterwards.

"You want to take a shot, or do you want me to show you how it's done first?" he asked. You looked between him, the gun, and the targets before taking a small step back.

"You go first. I want to see how it's done," you replied. With a nod, Arthur got into position. You took note of how he stood, how he aimed and what his overall demeanour was like, hoping to be able to copy it when it came to your turn.

Two shots were fired quickly, one directly after the other, and you heard the shattering of glass as two of the bottles broke, falling from the log. You were too slow to cover your ears, a loud ringing echoing for a few moments after the final shot ended.

"Easy as that," Arthur said with a grin, holding the gun back out for you. You gingerly took it in your hands, it feeling heavy and unfamiliar in them. The can and a bottle were left for you to shoot, and you were confident you could do it. Arthur moved to stand behind you, as you adjusted how you stood, copying what you saw him do. 

"This good?" You looked at him for his approval. He looked you up and down for a moment, gently placing a hand on your waist to tilt you ever so slightly. The touch caught you off guard, your face reddening as he gave you a nod in approval once he was happy. You then gripped the handle with one hand, keeping your arm straight as you tried to line up the first shot. 

"Hold it with two hands," Arthur said quickly, and you frowned at him.

"But you used one?" You adjusted your grip, now holding it with both hands.

"I've had practice." He moved closer behind you, arms now either side of you as he readjusted your grip, changing it so your other hand was wrapped for support and wasn't just there for the sake of it. Any nerves you had were increasing, especially now that Arthur was even closer to you. He was looking over your shoulder, and all you needed to do was turn your head and you would be face to face with him. This was a bad time to get nervous, you thought. Arthur's hands then moved down your arms, helping to lift them and keep them straight.

"Is this eye level to you?" he asked softly, and you nodded in response, words failing you. "Okay. Now pull the hammer back with your thumb." You did as he said, hearing a small 'click'.

"Now what?" You kept still, not wanting to move suddenly in case you caused it to go off. He moved his hands away from your arms, now pointing towards the can.

"Line up the sights to the can. You want to line up the front one first, then the rear," he explained, and you tried your best to do so. It didn't help at all when you felt one of his hands rest against your back, the other still pointing at your target. You focused, aiming up as best as you could.

"Now keep your eye on it, okay? You're going to want to think about pullin' the trigger next," he said, watching your finger move to touch it. "You're breathin' is real important, too. Breathe in, and then out, and you shoot once you've exhaled."

This was forcing you to focus on your breathing rather than the feeling of Arthur's hand against your back. You took a deep breath in, then out, and repeated until you felt calmer. You can do this.

"When you're ready, shoot." Arthur's voice was hardly above a whisper at this point, and you almost lost focus by thinking about him. Now wasn’t the time. You took a deep breath in.

In.

Out.

Shoot.

You felt yourself be pushed backwards slightly from the recoil of the gun and had to take a moment to regain your composure after the loudness of the shot. The can you were aiming for was still on the log, but it didn't matter too much - you had shot a gun! That was the important part. You looked at Arthur with a smile.

"I reckon you could knock it down with the next one," he said, matching your smile. "It grazed it. You were so close."

"Really?" You looked back at the can, and repositioned yourself. Arthur took a moment to adjust you where needed, still standing behind you, his hand on your back as you pulled the hammer back. You aimed, taking care to make sure they were both lined up perfectly this time. Breath in, out, and shoot.

The can wobbled slightly as the bullet grazed past it, but it still stood on the log like it was mocking you. You frowned, rolling your shoulders back as you lifted your arms again, ready to take aim.

"Try standing more to your right," Arthur said, his hand now moving to your waist as he moved you. "Really focus on the can. It helps to focus yourself from the ground up. Make sure you're standing strong, and work up from there."

You nodded, as he helped to position you in the right place and made sure your grip on the gun was tight. Each time he moved his hand to a different place you felt like your skin was on fire from the contact, and it wasn't helping your focus at all. Shoving any thoughts about him holding you like this to the back of your mind, you lined up the can with the sights, taking a moment to control your breathing.

"You've got this," Arthur said softly, and you believed him. You pulled the hammer back, ready to fire. With a deep breath in, you paused for a second before exhaling, and pulled the trigger.

It went wide.

You groaned loudly, taking a step away from Arthur as you tried to figure out how you missed again. It was lined up, there was no wind and no distractions, yet you still missed.

"I can't do this," you said defeated, holding the gun out for him to take. "I guess I should leave the shootin' to you."

"There's still two bullets left. I know you got it in you," he said, pushing your hand back. "C'mon, let's try again."

You had lost all hope by this point, but decided to have one last go. The can was going to go down, by bullet or by you kicking it over. You rolled your shoulders back as you stood by Arthur again, trying to relax yourself before getting into position.

"I have more bullets if you miss, so there's always room to try again," he told you, watching as you began to shift your weight and hold your arms out.

"If I miss this one, I'm throwing the can into the lake myself," you mumbled, lining your gaze up with the can. "Fuckin' can… ruining my day."

You heard Arthur laugh softly at your comments, and you tried to keep your focus at the task at hand, and not at how lovely his laugh was. This time he wasn't holding you anywhere, so you had nothing to blame if you missed again. You pulled the hammer back, letting out slow breaths in and out as you kept your sight on the can. In. Out. Shoot.

The gunshot went off, and you stood upright to assess the situation. The can had fallen backwards, a hole now pierced through the middle of it. Your eyes widened at the achievement, and you threw your hands in the air.

"It fell over!" you exclaimed, turning around to face Arthur with a wide smile. The joy you were feeling enveloped you, giving you a rush of confidence. You threw your arms around Arthur in a hug, feeling yourself getting lifted up as his arms went around your waist tightly, pulling you up and closer to him.

"Look at you go!" He was matching your excitement, which only fuelled your confidence. "We'll make a gunslinger out of you." He set you down, but you didn't move away from his arms, looking up at him with a grin. 

"Better watch out, I might just steal your spot in the outlaw world," you teased.

"Think you can handle it? It's a real dangerous way of living, you know," he replied, his voice soft as he gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. It was now you realised how close you were to him. Your arms were still around him, one of his hands was placed on your waist while the other was against your cheek, and you were reminded of the last time you were in a similar position to this with him. But this time you weren't saying goodbye. This time you had all the time in the world, and you couldn't help but lean in a little closer, testing the waters. 

"This alright?" He asked quietly, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. 

You gave him a slight nod, leaning into the touches. "It is." 

That was all he needed to hear.  You closed your eyes, your heart fluttering when you felt your lips meet his. It was one thing to think about kissing him - which you hated to admit that you did a few times in between this meeting and the last, but actually doing it was unlike anything you could have ever imagined. 

You were suddenly reminded of the gun that was still in your hand when you felt it slip from your grip, and you broke away, taking a moment for what just happened to sink in. A dark blush spread across your cheeks, Arthur’s face a similar colour. You moved your arms away from around his neck, holding out his gun. The stag engraving was on full view, and you gently ran your finger along the carving. 

"You should probably take your gun back before I drop it," you said quietly, looking up at him.He watched you trace the stag, taking the gun from you when you held it to him. 

"I would hate for it to break again. I'd have to ride back out to the city to get it fixed," he replied, holstering it with a smile.

"What a shame.” Your eyes scanned his face, trying to memorise everything about him. A hand went to trace along his jaw, pausing when you noticed a small scar on his chin. It was the small things you wanted to keep locked in your mind, so that when you next wanted to draw him you would be able to capture his likeness even more. You wanted to paint every freckle and scar on him, putting them on canvas and immortalising him. The concept of a muse used to make you laugh, but now you understood what it meant. Inspiration flooded through your veins each time you looked at him and you would happily bleed on the canvas.

His eyes kept darting from your own to your lips, as his hands found their place back on your hips. Overcome with a sudden rush of confidence running through you, you pulled him into another kiss, this one a little more urgent. Your hands found their way to the collar of his shirt, holding them tightly. The hesitation of the first kiss was gone, replaced now with a need for more. You felt like you were on fire, and with each movement of his hands the feeling of excitement only grew, bubbling up inside. The warmth spread to your chest, your heart pounding against your ribs, and you felt as if it was loud enough for anyone to hear.

The moment shattered when a loud snort from where Artemis stood, causing you both to pull away from each other. She kept her gaze at you both and with a quick shake of her head, went back to grazing, almost acting proud that she had interrupted you both. You heard Arthur laugh softly, his gaze moving from Artemis back to you. The silence that followed felt heavy; neither of you moved. Light was starting to slip away, leaving room for the darkness that would soon take its place. 

Arthur was the one to break the quiet, pulling his hands away from you. “We should set up camp for the night,” he said, keeping his voice low as you let go of his shirt and took a step back.

“Yes. That would be a good idea,” you replied with a nod. Neither of you moved again, still staying in the moment that was now passing by at a rapid pace. You cleared your throat with an awkward blush, averting your gaze from him. He tipped his hat in your direction, just as flustered as you were feeling. With a deep breath, he moved. You watched him walk back to where Artemis was grazing, your eyes lingering longer than what they normally would. You had to push down your thoughts before they became too intense. He looked over his shoulder in your direction, caught your eye and gave you a smile. This was uncharted water you were sailing through right now, and you couldn’t even force yourself to feel nervous or scared - you were excited.

A small camp was eventually set up on the sand, a fire burning in front of you. The sky was clear and you were hoping that you would be able to camp out under the stars. Arthur pitched up a small tent, using it to store your belongings and keeping them out of sight from others who may pass by while Artemis grazed on a patch of grass nearby, her saddle in the tent to give her a break.

You poked at the fire with a stick to get it burning brighter as the sky turned darker, the sun now set and the evening rolling in. Stars began to light up the sky, and you were amazed at how many there were up there. Saint Denis' sky was never this full of stars, the street lights being too bright to allow the stars to shine. You looked across to the lake to see Arthur standing at the water’s edge, fishing. He told you that he refused to let you eat canned goods whilst out in nature, and all the gunshots had most likely scared away any wildlife that grazed around here. Fish was the next best thing. You had your sketchbook out, drawing quick studies of anything around you - the fire, the tent, Arthur, Artemis grazing, the sky, Arthur again. There was so much you wanted to remember, and you wrote down your thoughts next to each drawing. You avoided writing in your sketchbook, wanting to keep it to drawings only but sometimes you needed to put your thoughts to paper to keep them from clouding your mind.

“Usually more things bite around here.” You looked up to see Arthur approaching, holding a fish.

“Maybe they’re sleeping?” You frowned. “Fish sleep, right?”

He laughed, shrugging as he took a seat next to you. “Probably. Never been under water long enough to check.”

You turned back to your drawings as Arthur began to prepare and cook the fish over the fire, kneeling by it and gently turning the flesh in a small tin above the flames. The way he moved and added a few herbs to it gave you the impression that he had done this a lot. Another thing to add to the list of what you knew about Arthur - his cooking looked impressive. The real question was if it tasted good. After a little while, you felt him nudge your leg, getting your attention away from your drawing. He held out the tin for you to take, the fish now cooked and ready to be eaten. 

You both ate your half of the fish, and it was the best thing you had eaten in a long while. The fish stalls in the markets were nothing compared to fresh off the line fish. No time had been lost between catching it and preparing it for consumption; it tasted fresher than other fish you had bought before. It was a meal you would remember, especially because the company you shared it with was easy on the eyes. Arthur caught your gaze a few times, smiling to himself every time you looked away, cheeks red.

Once you had both finished eating, you spent a few moments watching the sky, counting every new star that you could see. Arthur poked at the fire with a stick, moving around the branches to keep the fire going.

“I’m going to get more wood to burn,” he said, and stood up. You gave him a wave as he walked off towards a small wooded area up the shore, soon leaving you alone with Aretmis now laying on the grassy patch by you. It was nice being here, in the middle of nature, no worries or hustle and bustle from the city. You were almost certain that when night fell you would be able to see more stars than you ever thought were in the sky. That thought alone was enough to make you want to spend more time away from the city. Perhaps you should consider relocating? Get a small cabin somewhere up in Cumberland Forest, surrounded by trees and birds and mountains. You could see the night sky and watch the sunrise each morning, and paint everything around you.

As the thought of you living deep in the countryside filled your mind, you were hastily drawn out from it by the gentle nudge of cool metal at the back of your head, and the familiar sound of a hammer being pulled back, a new shot clicking into place. You froze, having not seen Arthur loop around you to pull this strange joke. This wasn’t Arthur threatening you.

"You're gonna get up real slowly, and empty out your pockets, okay?" A man's voice spoke, and you nodded, slowly raising your hands up in surrender. Time in Saint Denis had taught you to throw any valuables away from the thief, to give you time to flee the scene unhurt. But there was nowhere to run and hide. Nowhere to go. No lawmen to report the crime to. It was just you and him and Arthur far away.

You rose to your feet, the gun never leaving the back of your head as you moved. There was a sound of rustling from behind - someone was going inside the tent, and another voice eventually spoke up.

"There ain't shit here!" He called out, and you heard the man behind you sigh, pressing the barrel of the gun a little harder against your skull.

"Get over there." He grabbed your shoulder, giving you a push away from the camp. A man stepped out from the tent, hands on his hips in disappointment before he noticed Artemis laying down behind them.

"Real nice horse here. Could go for a pretty penny to the right buyer," he said, walking over to her, watching as she rose to stand, rearing up when he got too close to her. There was a bad attempt at calming her down, and you knew that if you didn't say anything then they would try and take her. Or she would kick him. You hoped for the latter.

"She's got colic. Ain't gonna last much longer," you said quickly, guided by the other man towards the camp. "Took her out here to spend some time in nature, so she can go in peace."

The smaller of the two frowned, confusion on his face. "Colic?"

You silently thanked yourself for the time you spent around the stables - the man looked like he didn't have a clue what you were on about.

You nodded quickly. "Yes! It's a killer. If you try to sell her, no one is going to buy her. She'll be dead soon." It was horrible to talk about Artemis like this, but from the way the two men looked at each other, it looked to be working. You just needed to stall them a little longer. Their confidence that they were going to get a lot from you seemed to dwindle as the man with the gun adjusted his grip on it, keeping it level at your head.

"Well, we ain't leaving empty handed," he said, glancing nervously between you and his partner. He looked at the other man and gestured to the tent. "Search through there again."

With his attention away from you for a split second, you turned, using your elbow to smack his arm away from you. He yelped loudly, his arm knocked sideways as he lost his grip on his gun. It fell to the floor, and you rushed to grab it. The cool metal of the revolver was pulled out from under you, the man being a slight second quicker than you even after you disarmed him. He held the gun back up to you, a slight shake in his hands.

A shot rang out.

There was a searing burst of pain that ran through your upper arm, warmth spreading from the impact sight. You instinctively grabbed onto where you had been hit and were met with dampness. Blood covered your hand, and you felt the world sway under you at the sight. Shit.

You stumbled away from the man who was threatening you, his gun still aiming towards you as you moved.

"Stay still! I'll shoot again if you don't!" he called out, pulling back the hammer to load the next round. Part of you wanted to take the risk, to run and find somewhere to hide. His finger hovered over the trigger, and you had no choice but to stay still. The man in the tent came out at the sound of gunfire, a pistol in his hand as he looked around to see where the danger was, and you now had two guns pointing at you while your arm was bleeding and Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

“You’re makin’ this difficult for us,” the first man grumbled, and you could see his demeanour shift; he was growing more and more irritated the longer you refused to give him any valuables.

“You shot me! Sorry if I don’t feel like handing you over everything I own!” you exclaimed in disbelief. His eye twitched, and you almost wanted to dare him to shoot you again.

Something caught the bandits’ eyes, as they turned suddenly. You followed their gaze, and saw Arthur standing away from camp, his hat covering his face as he reached for his revolver, clicking back the hammer.

"You boys best put those things down and get on your way now, you hear me?" Arthur spoke low, the tone of his voice unfamiliar to you. He tilted his head up to get a look at the two, and you saw that his eyes were dark as he held out his revolver, pointing it towards the man with the gun at you. The other gun that was holstered had now been pulled out, and he was aiming it at the second man.

"I know your face," the first bandit said, glaring at Arthur and moving to point his gun at him. "It’s plastered all over the goddamn country. That’s easy money if we turn you in."

"And how are you goin' to do that, huh?" He tilted his head to the side, waiting for an answer. When the two didn't speak, he let out a low laugh. “Exactly. On your way, fellas. We don’t need to make this more bloody than it needs to be.”

"We'll shoot this one if you don't come with us," the second man said quickly, gesturing to you with his gun.

“Looks to me like you already have,” Arthur replied, giving you a quick glance, his expression unwavering. “You see a weapon anywhere? You’re real lowlifes for shootin’ an unarmed person.” His glare darkened at the two bandits, and you took this moment to slowly step away from the standoff. Blood was soaking through the sleeve of your shirt now, and you cursed the guy who shot you - you liked this shirt. There was a large rock a few feet away, and you were aiming to get behind there to avoid being shot at again. You just needed to time this right.

“We’re just trying to survive. We ain’t the ones shooting up entire towns like you and your gang,” the first man spat, and Arthur clenched his jaw at that. He turned to look at you. “You’d be safer with us than this criminal.”

You highly doubted that considering they were the ones that had shot you, and you took another small step closer to the rock. He seemed to notice you move this time, and waved his gun in your direction.

“Stay fuckin’ still, or the next bullet will be through your chest!” He was growing agitated, the other man watching on in confusion. You paused, raising a hand in the air in surrender while the other one kept pressure on your wound.

Arthur began to take a step forward towards the two, a look that bordered between anger and boredom on his face. “One last chance to get gone.” He gestured to where the road was, and the two bandits looked at each other.

“He’s wanted dead or alive,” the second man called out quickly. You frowned at the sudden mention of it, wondering what they were planning.

“Dead it is, then.” The first man released a shot in Arthur’s direction, narrowly missing his shoulder.

With gunfire echoing around you, you took the chance to dart towards the rock you were aiming to hide behind. Adrenaline rushed through you as you kept hearing gunshots, and you felt the sand kick up in front of you as one of the men turned fire towards you. You dived down behind the boulder, missing another bullet that was aimed for you, breathing erratically. All you could do now was wait and hope that it would end soon. Arthur was right - maybe you should invest in a weapon.

You took a moment to assess your wound, moving your bloody hand away from it. Your knowledge of gunshot wounds was limited, but from what you could tell the bullet grazed your skin. It was still bad, and would need to be looked at by a doctor when you got back into the city. You put your hand back over it, trying to calm your breathing down. There was nothing you could do right now. You needed to be calm.

Silence.

The air was heavy. Quiet. The gentle sound of water lapping against the shore was the only thing you could hear now. No movement. No breathing. Nothing. You tried to force yourself to move, to stand up to see what the damage was, but something was keeping you locked in place. Your eyes focused on the dark horizon ahead of you as you waited for a noise, a movement, anything.

A minute passed, and then another, and then you wondered what would happen if there were no survivors. If both the bandits and Arthur had injured each other to the point of death.

Oh god… What if Arthur is dead? 

He should've appeared by now. You should have seen or heard him. Was he dead? Were you going to stand up and see him lying there, motionless? You didn't know what you would do - how do you lay a body to rest in the middle of the wilderness? What if someone saw you and thought you were the killer? You couldn't remember the way home, and you had no idea what to do with Artemis. Stable fees could get expensive, and you didn't have time in your schedule to ride her. Arthur had friends elsewhere, too, and you had no idea how you would get word back to them that he was dead. How do you tell a wanted gang that one of theirs had died in a shootout with bandits?

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, rising and falling quickly as you tried to breathe normally. The horizon was blurring as tears formed, the frantic thud thud thud of your heart filled your ears. Were you dying now? Someone would stumble across four bodies and a lone horse and wonder what had happened here, what brutal act took place that resulted in all these deaths.

You heard your name, forcing yourself to turn your head in the direction of it. Standing a few steps away from you, hands and shirt bloodied, his hat nowhere to be seen, was Arthur. Alive.

"You… You aren't dead?" You spoke through deep breaths, looking over him with concern and caution and fear that this was an illusion.

"No, I'm-" He stopped, instead pulling you close to him, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You relaxed into his arms, the rush of the fight and your anxiety slipping away. “I wasn't sure if they had hit you again,” he mumbled, a hand moving to the back of your head, smoothing out your hair.

“Are they-” You stopped yourself, not wanting to finish that sentence. Arthur nodded as you let out a sigh of relief, glad that it was over. That was more than enough violence for one day, and a wave of fatigue hit you.

“Come sit back by the fire. You need patchin’ up.” He loosened his arms around you, giving you a warm smile despite the conflict that just took place. The blood on him looked out of place now that the need to be threatening was gone, and you were glad to have met him on good grounds.

He led you back to the fire, an arm wrapped around your shoulder to keep you steady. The bandits' bodies were nowhere to be seen, and you assumed Arthur had taken care of them. 

You sat back down by the warmth of the fire, releasing the grip you had on your arm. Arthur handed you a small glass bottle, similar to one of the ones you shot earlier, as he sat down beside you, cloth and bandages in his other hands. You took the bottle, popping off the cork and smelling it.

"I wouldn't do that. It tastes worse than it smells," Arthur said as your face scrunched up in disgust.

"This is supposed to help me?" The last thing you wanted was to drink something that smelled like it came from the trash.

"It'll ease the pain." Arthur watched as you gave him a look, before drinking it down in one quick motion. The taste was bitter, and it didn't matter how fast you swallowed it you were left with an awful aftertaste that made you want to vomit.

"God… That's horrible," you mumbled, setting the bottle down in the sand beside you. "I'm never forgetting that taste."

"Can't say it gets any better the more you drink it," he said, taking note of your arm. You were, in a way, lucky that the bullet only grazed you, but it was still bleeding and needed to be patched up quickly. It stung like hell, and with each movement of your arm the pain only increased. 

His hands pulled at the fabric of your sleeve, moving it away from the wound. He then paused, a blush making its way across his cheeks.

“Could you… uh… I need to get to your arm, but…” He gave a small gesture to your sleeve, and you nodded, understanding what he was asking for. Your hands moved to unbutton your shirt, glad to be wearing something else underneath it. You pulled your arm out, letting the fabric fall behind you as Arthur moved forward, gently holding your arm. He was slow as he began to clean up the now drying blood, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. The light from the fire covered everything in hues of amber and orange, and Arthur looked like someone out of a painting you once saw. His brows furrowed in concentration, taking care not to hurt you. It was a stark contrast to see him this gentle when his clothes were stained with blood of the men he killed moments before. The crimson streaks across his shirt painted him as a ruthless killer, but the soft apologies he mumbled each time you let out a small hiss in pain made him look like a saint. What a walking contradiction he was, and you couldn't get enough of him. You didn't care how much blood he had on his hands as long as they were holding yours.

The strands of his hair that could never quite reach behind his ear fell in front of his face, and you pushed them back, your hand running through his hair as he worked. He let out a soft sigh, leaning into your touch. Even after everything you knew about him, you still wanted to know more. Not about who he was on wanted posters or newspaper articles, but who he actually was. Two ships passing by were allowed to understand each other on a deeper level, you were sure of it.

Something had changed, and the air around you both felt heavy. There was so much you wanted to say and ask him but the words could never leave your lips. Too much was at stake if you allowed yourself another moment with him like you did after you shot the can down. Maybe you were a contradiction too - an up and coming artist who yearns for the attention of an outlaw instead of the calm and quaint life they had. There were definitely novels written about that, and you knew how they ended. Your cheeks burned up at the thought of this playing out like a silly romance novel, and you let your hand rest against the side of his face, trying to catch his eye.

"You tryin' to distract me?" he asked softly, looking up for the first time at you.

"Consider it payback for when you were helping me shoot," you replied, moving your hand to rest on his shoulder now. "I blame you for makin' me miss."

He laughed, unwinding the bandage to begin to wrap up the wound. "You did pretty good, though. First time I picked up a gun I almost shot myself by accident."

"That's something I have trouble believing," you said, keeping your arm elevated so he could move the bandage around it easier. 

He was quiet for a moment, before speaking up. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he apologised, as he secured the end of the bandage. "The hold up. Usually this place is pretty quiet, 'cept for a few grumpy fellas who like their space."

"I'm just lucky you were around. They would've left with all our stuff if you hadn't showed up when you did." You gave him a smile. "I've had my fair share of hold ups in the city. It's fine."

"You sure you don't want to consider getting somethin' to defend yourself with?" he asked, his hand lingering on your lower arm, having moved down once everything was patched up.

"I was taught to throw the thing they're after away from you, that way you can flee and avoid getting hurt," you explained. The look on his face made it sound like you had explained a concept he had never heard of before. Maybe he hadn't ever needed to flee from a robbery. You didn't have the luxury of guns and protection from others and an intimidating build to threaten people away from you. All you had were your wits and a good knowledge of where to run to.

"We can make a detour to Rhodes. Again, I ain't too welcome there, but it'll be cheaper to get you a knife or somethin' in there than in the city." He gave your arm a soft squeeze.

You quickly shook your head. "No, I don't think I need anything. I've survived this far without a weapon. I know the places to avoid, and I'm smart about what I bring out with me."

He sat back, keeping his hand on your arm. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Worried? About me?"

"Yeah… I'd hate to see somethin' bad happen to you," he said with a mischievous smile. "Who else is going to paint my handsome horse?"

You gently hit his arm, holding back a laugh. "You and your damn horse."

"She has real good hearing, you know. Best mind what you say about her." 

You looked over to Artemis, who was happily grazing on a small grassy patch a few metres from you both, not a care in the world.

"They were considering taking her," you told him as he followed your gaze to her.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone's stolen her," he replied. You wanted to further question him, but he stood up, giving you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "Get some rest."

You rose to your feet, giving him a mock salute with a laugh. "Yes, sir." A dark blush spread across his cheeks. He mumbled something about going to grab his hat, turning away from you quickly. It was nice to know that you weren't the only one getting flustered over the small things.

You pulled out a bedroll and a blanket you had managed to shove into the depths of your bag, spreading them out on the floor by the fire. While Arthur was away, you quickly shrugged off the rest of your shirt, glad that you had bought a spare. It made sense to leave the freshly bandaged wound alone for a while, so you chose to not change into a clean shirt, keeping your undershirt on and throwing the blanket over you.

The night sky looked pretty from where you now lay, the moon rising above the mountains in the distance. Warmth from the fire next to you was enough to help with the drowsiness, and the gentle crackle of the wood burning was a nice background noise. 

Sleep came easy, you were exhausted over being wounded and wanted nothing more than to be whisk away into some dream, away from the lake and away from the pain that lingered in your arm.

You found yourself in a small cabin, surrounded by woodlands. Birdsong was heard around you, and small critters ran to and from the bushes. The day was drawing to a close, and you could smell soup being prepared over in the kitchen. You followed the smell, your stomach rumbling as dinner time approached. Were you alone here? There was no sign of another person, but deep down you felt an ache for someone who had recently left. Space was left on the coat hooks for another person's belongings, and you wondered who you were sharing this place with.

The sound of hoofbeats drew your attention to the window that overlooked the front garden of your home, and arriving on the back of the oh so familiar horse was Arthur. He noticed you through the window, and gave you a warm smile and a wave.

You were in a cabin you called home, in the woods, with Arthur. It seemed too good to be true.

You walked out of the door to greet him as he dismounted from Artemis, eager to embrace you in a tight hug, his lips meeting yours in a quick kiss. He then began to press soft kisses over your face, keeping you close to him as you let slip a laugh. You placed your hands on his chest, pushing away from him only to get a better look at his face, lit up by the afternoon sun, freckles dusting his cheeks. 

A warmth spread underneath your hands, and you frowned, pulling them away from Arthur. They were painted a deep crimson, the blood heavy on your hands as you tried to wipe them on your shirt to clean them. The more you tried, the harder it became to fully feel clean. You looked at Arthur, feeling him slip away from you as the dream shifted into night, leaving you alone. 

You stood in the forest, clothes bloodied. There was no way you were getting the stains out from them, no matter how hard you tried. It would linger on you forever, a faded reminder of what you saw and what you could have prevented. Did they deserve to die? Were they trying to make a living? They claimed they were trying to survive, that they weren’t the bad guys - no, that was Arthur. An outlaw, a murderer, a cold blooded killer according to the newspaper, according to everyone. What made you different? Were you certain that your name wouldn't end up on the front page of the news, another victim claimed by the gang Arthur ran with? You called out for him, but there was no response. Why would there be?

You were alone. Just like you were before. The ship Arthur sailed had passed you, and you were left back at square one with nothing but the crimson on your hands.

You should've given them what they wanted. No blood would've needed to have been spilled, and everyone would be alive.

This was your fault.

The muffled sound of your name was heard, and you turned quickly to try and place where it was coming from. It got louder and louder until it was echoing in your mind, and you realised who was calling for you.

With a start, you sat up, breathing heavily and slightly damp - from sweat or the sudden feeling of rain, you weren't sure. You wiped your forehead as you tried to focus on waking up, blinking back sleep. The rain was gentle, but you knew it wouldn't be long before it got heavier and fire flickered out with each droplet. You searched the darkness for a sign of Arthur. There was light in the tent coming from a lantern, and you moved to stand, grabbing your bedroll. The tent flap opened, and Arthur stuck his head out, surprised to see you standing there.

"I was goin' to come and wake you. There's enough room in here for the both of us," he said, holding open the tent for you. "Just easier than tryin' to put another one up in the dark."

You nodded, ducking under Arthur's arm as you entered, dropping down your bedroll in the space next to his. It was a little cramped, the space not usually big enough for two people, but Arthur was doing his best to make it work. He gave you a smile as you sat down, still shaking from the dream.

Arthur seemed fine, like nothing had happened. How many deaths did you need to witness before you could fall asleep easily at night like he did? You didn't want to think about the number that Arthur may have faced. How easy it was for him to pull the trigger, to remove those people from life… The thought terrified you. No longer was he just the handsome stranger who let you paint his horse - you knew now that he was an outlaw, a dangerous man. There was a gentle nudge against your arm, as Arthur pulled you away from your thoughts, noticing your face frowning up.

"You doin' alright?" he asked quietly, and you had to strain to hear him over the sound of the rain against the canvas of the tent.

You shrugged in response. "Just thinking about those guys from earlier…"

"That's a rickety line you're travelling down," he said, shifting slightly to face you. "If it weren't them, it would've been us."

"I know…"

He gently took a hold of your hand, causing you to look up at him. How many lives has his hands taken?

"Maybe… Maybe we could've tried to defuse the situation. Maybe we could've gotten out of there with everyone alive. But there ain't no use thinkin' about what could have been. It'll eat you up before you've even realised," he said. "If I started doubtin' every time I did something, nothing would get done."

You nodded, wanting to question him further but the call for you to go back to sleep entered your mind. There would be time to properly process this in the morning. For now, you laid back down on the ground beside Arthur. He moved to turn the lantern off, leaving you both in darkness, the rain growing heavier as it battered against the tent. You made sure to leave enough space between the both of you as you closed your eyes, wishing for lighter dreams. 

The rest of the night was uneventful. Your mind allowed you to sleep through it without plaguing you with more nightmares, giving you the rest you needed. The morning chorus of birdsong awoke you, soft sunlight breaking through the small gap in the canvas.

You noticed three things very quickly in your post-sleep daze.

One: the rain had stopped.

Two: you were close to something that was very warm, and you instinctively moved towards it.

Three: the feeling of Arthur's hand laying gently on your waist.

You were fully awake now, face to face with Arthur's chest as he slept, your own arms wrapped around him, your legs tangled together. It was so domestic the way you fit against each other, like this was meant to be. You laid there, unmoving and unsure of what to do with yourself. Arthur's eyes were closed, and you could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. He looked peaceful like this, with his face relaxed and there being no need to put up an intimidating front. You almost didn't want to move away from him. If he woke up now, you were almost certain you would become a flustered mess, so it was better to wait outside for him to wake up.

Moving slowly, you began to pull yourself from him, careful not to wake him up. Your heart ached when you left the tent, leaving him behind, but the cool morning air was welcomed by you instead.

The world felt still as the sun rose, warm yellows covering the sky. The fire had long died out, leaving behind the charred remains of the wood once burned. A flock of birds flew above you and a couple of deer were drinking in front of you. They walked around each other, looking up every time they heard a small sound. You had never been this close to deer before, and you were keeping still to not accidentally spook them. Artemis laid in the grass, looking at you as if to ask for a treat. You waved at her, and she turned away, letting out a small huff. 

A small breeze blew past, catching you off guard at the wave of cold air. It would be a smart idea to change into something that was a little more modest than your underclothing, so you turned back around. You pushed open the flaps of the tent, kneeling down and grabbing the bag that had your spare clothes in. It was still early and you were trying to be as quiet as you could to not wake Arthur up. You stood behind the tent and changed into a fresh set of clothes. Your arm felt better than what it did and you told yourself that you would visit the doctor as soon as you got back home. It was sad to think you would need to leave this small patch of peace so soon, wanting nothing more than to stay here a little longer, away from civilization and away from all the things you needed to do at home. 

As you walked back to where the remains of the fire were, you bumped into Arthur, who was now leaving the tent. He had the smart idea to change inside the tent, and you felt a little silly for dressing out in the open.

"Morning!" you said quickly, holding your bag close to you, stepping aside for him.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, running a hand down his face to wake himself up more. "Sleep well?"

"I did." You noticed he couldn't hold your gaze for long. "Did you?" 

He nodded, eyes focused on the horizon. "Good."

"Is everything okay?" you asked, approaching him slowly. Another nod. "You're just… quiet."

"I'm fine." He smiled at you, but was quick to avert his eyes away again. "We should head back soon." He pointed to your arm. "Get that checked out as soon as you can."

"It's on my list of things to do today," you replied, already trying to work out how you were going to tell the doctor what happened. You had tried to not think too much about the slope you were sliding down last night, the idea of death and killing people not something you found enjoyment out of. It was too soon to process all that, your feelings were still too raw.

Arthur moved past you quickly, and began to dismantle the tent, doing so in a way that seemed like he had done it many times before and had perfected it. Within minutes, and before you could offer to help, the tent was packed away, leaving your belongings out in the open ready to be picked up. He called for Artemis who stood up quickly, nuzzling her head against his shoulder for scratches. Something still felt weird, as you watched him saddle up Artemis, checking and double checking to make sure everything was secure.

"Look, about last night," he started, his cheeks flushed and his hands gesturing wildly though no words followed.

"It's fine!" you quickly replied, swallowing down the nerves that were threatening to rise up out of you. "I mean, if you're fine with what happened, and I'm fine with it, then… it's fine… Right?"

"Right. Yes. Just wanted to make it clear that it's all good. Between us, that is."

"Of course. We're good." 

He let out a sigh of relief at that, his shoulders relaxing as the confirmation that what happened was something you had both wanted to do was said out loud. The air felt lighter after that, and you were glad that nothing felt wrong between you both. You quite liked kissing him.

"You got everythin'?" he asked, and you nodded. As he mounted Artemis, he held his arm out for you again, helping you up as you began the journey back home.

The ride back was quiet, your head against Arthur's back and one of his hands on yours, fitting together like a puzzle that you had been missing pieces from. Trees and hills and wildlife passed you by, the air getting thicker the closer you got towards Bayou Nwa, and you were already yearning for the cool air of the lake again.

Saint Denis welcomed you home as Artemis slowed to a walk, Arthur directing her down the street to where he remembered you lived. You willed an excuse for him to stay longer to appear in your mind, but nothing formed. There were things you had to do today, and Arthur most likely had his own plans as well. You'd see each other again soon, you told yourself as your apartment building appeared in your line of sight. Goodbyes aren't forever, not yet at least.

Artemis stopped, as you dismounted. Arthur followed suit, wanting to walk you to your door. You were both quiet as you made your way to your building, stopping once you were outside the door.

"Thank you. This has been really fun," you said with a smile, taking a hold of his hand. "Minus the getting shot part."

"Next time, there will be less injuries, I promise," he replied.

You raised an eyebrow. "Next time?"

"The fireworks."

"Right!" How could you forget? "The fireworks. End of the week. I expect to see you here."

"I wouldn't miss it." He smiled at you, and you quickly looked around to see who was walking by. When the coast was clear, you pulled him down for a quick kiss, his arms moving around you instinctively.

"Don't cause too much trouble," you mumbled playfully, flicking his hat up as you moved away.

"I can't promise anythin'. You take care of yourself now. Go to the doctors." He stepped back with a small wave, and you wanted to call out for him to stay. But you said nothing, watching him leave again. With a soft sigh, you entered your building alone.

A letter was on the floor as you opened the door, and you frowned, picking it up. The handwriting was unfamiliar, elegant swirls and loops that you hadn't seen before. You took a seat at your dining table, opening it carefully.

Addressed to you, from one of your recent clients, was an invitation to paint at the mayor's gala at the end of the week. The writer, a man you had had a few interactions with before - he had wanted you to paint his dog - expressed his concern that it was a late invite, but hoped to see you there. He wanted this gala to be immortalised as it was an important date for him, and hoped you would do the honours of painting the celebration for him. 

You couldn't quite believe it. 

[kohakurin8]

~ Dissecting Kimetsu no Yaiba ~

Kyōjurō Rengoku, Dragonball, & The Tale of The Monkey King

I'm sure you can already tell where this is going based on the title, but this is actually a post that I've wanted to make for a while now and just... couldn't find the words to put it in. Eventually, I just realized that the words probably won't come to me until I start writing them, so here I am!

Let's talk about a relatively obvious reference made within Kimetsu no Yaiba that a surprising amount of people completely missed. That is, the fact that the Hashira Rengoku is an uncanny, undeniable reference to the Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, from a very famous Chinese folktale -- Journey to the West!

Fun Fact: Dragonball was originally a loveletter to Journey to the West, with Goku originally being a direct reference to Sun Wukong as well!

Haha, that fun fact may seem random but it actually plays a big role in what I'm about to say.

See, I'm no expert on Journey to the West, but thanks to the widespread popularity of Dragonball and the Shounen genre, you really don't need to be in order to understand the relevance and significance of Sun Wukong!

It's pretty well known that Dragonball was essentially the progenitor of the Shounen genre, and before it got into Dragonball Z with all of the aliens and galactic drama, the series actually focused on Martial Arts and its relationship with the mystical forces of the world. Of course, this means it's not at all surprising for Goku to be a reference to Sun Wukong since Journey to the West essentially defined the Martial Arts Movie genre of Eastern Asia.

You see where I'm going with this yet? 😏

Yes, Sun Wukong defined the Martial Arts Movie protagonist, and through him Goku defined the Shounen protagonist.

Sure, not every Shounen protagonist rides through the sky on a cloud like our beloved Saiyan Hero or the Monkey King, but there are still plenty of other shared character traits that became staples. An astounding, almost insatiable appetite; unyielding willpower; enough love for friends and family to move mountains; almost inhuman courage and heroics; supernatural power to rival even the gods -- basically anything that makes you think of a Shounen protagonist is a trait originally beheld by Sun Wukong.

So now that we've done the background knowledge, let's shift our focus to Rengoku specifically.

I know what you're going to say. "But Rin, if Sun Wukong is in every Shounen protagonist we've ever drooled and cried over, what makes Rengoku so special?"

And to that I say sit down and have some patience, I'm getting to that!

Rengoku is special because he somehow masterfully represents all of the things that Sun Wukong was known for while avoiding the bland and boring tropes yet somehow simultaneously expressed everything you love about classic Shounen.

He has a razor-sharp wit and instinct, smoothly hidden beneath playful, charming, and almost clown-like behavior. His bright personality, warm kindness, and furious power remind one of the sun itself -- something that Sun Wukong was widely representative of.

Delightfully eccentric and quirky. A blazing glory that touches and warms hearts until he's etched into their very soul, shaping viewers into brave warriors the same way he shapes Tanjiro Kamado into one himself.

Kyōjurō Rengoku is a flawless loveletter to everything that ever was, and ever will be, The Monkey King.

[landgraabbed]

hi Cat, can you share your thoughts/criticisms of DATV? i think the game is gonna flop.

hey nonners, idk. this is a complicated question. i mean, game's not even out yet so it's unfair to pass judgment on it. i can only judge bioware's approach to pre-release marketing. and i got a lot of thoughts on that.

honestly i think it will be a perfectly serviceable game and technically it will run well (i mean, it has been steam deck verified which tells me that performance was a big concern for devs). i don't think quality has much bearing on the love people can have for a game. and vice-versa. the people who are hyped to oblivion and want to preorder will like it. the people who hate it bc it has poc and queer and disabled characters will still hate it. people who analyze the game's mechanics and writing will dissect the game and be predisposed to finding things they dislike. over time opinions will mellow out and we'll see how the veilguard will be remembered.

i can't trust bioware to make an rpg that i will want to play after their last failures. different people will differ on where the string of failures started. from a quality standpoint my line is dragon age 2. me3 to me failed to deliver on the promise of the first 2 me games save for shining exceptions like the citadel dlc and javik. from a numbers standpoint the last successful game was inquisition which won goty in 2014 due to a serious lack of competition mostly, especially since witcher 3 was pushed back to 2015 (which pains me personally as that put it directly in bloodborne's path to goty in that year). thing is bioware seems to be doing all they can to avoid a flop. veilguard is bioware's hail mary after a string of failures. they are ditching the ea app to capture as many people as possible. the combat has fully careened into action, and although they keep telling us these will be the best companions ever, really, guys, the gameplay is more and more focused on the protagonist alone. the crpg roots of the series are getting cut down to attract a broader audience. perhaps at the cost of ostracizing some like me who enjoy the party-based, party-building mechanics like me.

how well this will go i don't know. on one hand i think bioware has been historically bad at showing the full scope to new and returning players. empress celene has been haunting the edges of the world since origins. the full grasp of her character is locked behind books. afaik some companions have been introduced already in supplemental materials. this sort of move didn't go well for ff15. on the other i think this game missed its window. the gaming landscape of today isn't the same as it was in 2014, and in 2014 the skyrim at home open world design was already outdated. i've been hearing about the crpg renaissance since 2016. i accompanied it. it remained a niche part of gaming until it didn't: baldur's gate 3 released last year to audience and critical acclaim. going forward i expect mainstream rpgs to take cues from bg3. and the mission based almost extraction shooter-esque design that veilguard seems to have might not land as well in 2024 as it would have in 2020.

eta: or it could go well, idk. morrowind and final fantasy were bethesda's and squaresoft's hail maries and saved those studios.

right now the marketing has missed the mark on me. it is patronizing and seemingly needs to punch down the previous da games to prop this one up. it concerns me that the game may be releasing in 2 months (as per jeff grubb) and we quite frankly haven't seen shit. just bioware telling us that trust me, these companions are deep. trust me, the combat is good. trust me, the city built on slave labor is totally the coolest one you've seen. everyone copies fromsoftware but they don't seem to learn to drop a trailer and shut up until they got more things of substance to show. and this isn't just a bioware issue.