#Benji Smith

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Delete the Data, Dan Backslide

Benji Smith: ah! the sum total of human creativity! Smith: i'll steal it! Smith: [screaming] NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW!

Smith: i have a simple ai recipe Smith: you just take a pinch of entergagement   Smith: a dash of synergy Smith: the stolen creativity & hard work of infinite real humans Smith: and voila! Smith: all the gray content slurry you could eat!

Smith: now you too can be a writer without all that pesky wri Barker: this fucking sucks Smith: ting Smith: uh Smith: wow uh so great feedback Barker: this fucking sucks shit Barker: do you have water in your brain Smith: wow so i'm hearing a lot of words

King: how does this thing work? Smith: well i took all your work & boiled it down Smith: now you can push a button and have ersatz stephen king content Smith: except you have to misspell stephen king for legal reasons Smith: like when they make you say "cheez" instead of cheese

Barker: you fucking dipshit Smith: wow good feedback! Barker: you absolute clod Smith:  really just want to hear all viewpoints Barker: you absolute fucking piece of human garbage Barker: sorry did you want to chime in here edgar Poe: no no you're doing fine

Smith: wow so all the writers really seem to hate my consolidated slurry machine Smith: but Smith: all the dead-eyed blue check crypto weirdos seem to think it's great! Smith: so who's to say what's good or bad?

[girs-art]

Not sure if anyone elven remembers my old Monster Office characters, but I decided to give them brand new designs! I'm also changing Alistair's name to Benji (Benjamin) and he is no longer a w*ndigo as I was completely uninformed in 2017 when I first made him. Nike is staying the same lol didn't have much to change haha

[gamesatwork]

e428 — Is you is, or is you AIn’t my AI?

Stories about #AI, #GenerativeAudio, #GenerativeBooks, Jane Friedman #brandjacking experiences, #GenerativeAgents, #NPCs #GenerativeBucketLists from #söka, Benji Smith #prosecraft and much more!

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash Published 14 August 2023 Andy, Michael and Michael get together for a show full of generative AI: audio, bucket lists, books and agents.  Andy starts things rolling with a Nvidia follow on article from last week, and a throwback to e156 from 2016.  Then things start to get exciting with a number of generative AI examples, beginning with Meta’s AudioCraft, an…

[rxbiteme]

The way he's telling authors whose copyright he ignored, that they have to email him to have their work removed is astounding. Wow.

i literally cannot imagine being this detached from the concept of creating art. this is the most insane thing ive read in a long time. this guy should start a blog about his writing process so i can jeer at it

[pitch-perfect-spookfest]

The 2024 Pitch Perfect SpookFest is coming.

[catb-fics]

CATB at Reading Festival 24 / creds: Sam Land

[cxce15]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SPOILERS

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No way in absolute hell is that one-eyed freaky bitch thinking about including Helaena in this war

HELAENA

It's literally canon that the girl couldn't kill a bug if she tried and you want her to fly into BATTLE

ARE YOU DUMB

Get Daemon out of his Haunted mansion and have the Battle Above The God's Eye PLEASE

I need them both dead like right neowwwww

Also Oscar Tully is literally king like I love him

Fuck Willem Blackwood glad he's dead ngl

Benjis going to be introduced soon heyyyyy

SAVE HELAENA

Also, I love Jace I do but what he said to Rhaenyra was a bit cruel ngl

Alright Goodnight

[miniaturecanvas]

More characters from my spidersona's universe, Earth-2686. Here we have his roommates, Gary Osgood, Patrick David (PD) Porter, and Gene Smith, plus his Uncle Benji (deceased), Reese Matthews, the Venom host in this universe, and the previous Spider-Man, Peter Parker(also deceased).

[movie-titlecards]

Pokémon: Detective Pikachu (2019)

My rating: 6/10

Okay I still enjoy this, but the villain's evil plot makes absolutely no sense.

[hitchell-mope]

Still a great movie.

[earnestlyeccentric]

The Winners (Beartown #3)

The Winners (Beartown #3)

Author: Fredrik Backman Translated by: Neil Smith Rating: 5/5 It’s been two years since the incident, the incident people of Beartown still feel uncomfortable acknowledging. Now, Beartown and Hed see the worst storm yet where changes are being orchestrated and truths dug out right beneath everyone’s noses. Spoilers ahead. (more…)

[mrs-willow]

"A Raven and a Falcon"

Chapter 4

The rain was still falling hard in the Riverlands, but it was failing to deter the locals from carrying out their daily duties. Raventree Hall was still busting with life in the shadow of an upcoming winter. Farmers traveled in and out of the castle, bringing in portions of their harvests to add to the Blackwoods stores for winter. They were heavily compensated for their donations, and the gold they earned from their sales put their families through winter. Just outside the high walls of the Hall, the cliffs that the castle stood upon fell sharply into the angry river that crashed against the beaches and rocks. To the south and east, the Hall was otherwise surrounded by fields of grass and forests that sported packs of dear, boar, and all manner of birds. In those fields, groups of young men and boys trained with swords and bows freshly made by the smiths just within the walls. 

A small group of young boys gathered around two of the older men, watching them duel. The master of arms commanded the boys to show them the correct steps and positions that must be used in a proper fight. The Blackwoods maintained a rigorous training regiment for their men so that they would always be prepared for a battle. Five years prior, Lord Samwell commanded all of the Blackwoods men from the age of thirteen to fifty to train at least once a day in preparation for invasion or war. Lord Tully was aging quickly and spent most days in bed asleep with help from the milk of the poppy, thus leaving the actions of the surrounding houses unchecked and their movements unregulated. The conflict between the Blackwoods and the Brackens was an ancient one. Both sides would rave and pillage the other's lands until a small line of stones became the only preventative measure for an all-out war. But, with the Tullys slipping hold on the Riverlands, Samewell sensed that the fighting would begin yet again. 

John and Benjicot stood in the center of the circle of boys, both strong fighters but with different techniques. John fought with precision and strong jabs in picture-perfect form, while Benjicot with lightning-fast slashes and crazed spinning movements. The two managed to balance one another out well with their clashing fighting styles, leaving all the young boys in awe and the older men with a proud gleam in their eyes, 

The two had been sparing for what seemed like forever, but it was only a few minutes. Regardless of the cold weather, the two men were already beginning to sweat, and their breaths were labored. 

Benjicot let out a manic laugh as he dodged another one of Johns's attacks. “Come on, man, I know you’re faster than that.” Benji goated as he attacked with a flurry of slashes that John paired away.     

“Oh, don’t get too smart, my Lord,” John said with a glare as he attacked with a strong stab that the young Lord had to drop to the ground to avoid.

Finally tired of the ongoing fight, Benjicot chose to end the duel with a quick swipe of John's feet and a jab of his elbow into the man's stomach. John fell to the floor, and Benji was above the man in an instant, his sword pointed at his friend's neck. 

The surrounding group erupted in applause as the young Lord offered a hand to his fallen friend. 

The training masters addressed the younger boys as the two friends walked over to get water and regain their breath. 

“So, how are you doing?” John questioned his friend. 

Benjicot looked at his friend with an annoyed stare.

“You know, about the whole marriage thing?” John pushed. 

“Oh, leave me be,” Benji said with a tired huff.

“Come on, mate, I worry about you. You haven’t spoken about the matter since the other day, and you are always somewhere in your head rather than present.”

“What would you like me to say?” Benji said with an angry look, “What is there to talk about? I must marry a woman I hardly know for the sake of my house. I know that she will never love me or care for the Riverlands. I will be stealing her away from her home and family and taking her to an unknown place without a soul that she knows.” Benji ranted. “The woman I will spend the rest of my life with, the future mother of my children, will resent me forever, and I, her because she has indirectly taken all choice from me simply because our fathers were friends.” Benjicot finished with a snarl as he stormed back through the gates of Raventree Hall.

When Benjcot finished cleaning the sweat and mud from his body, he began to dress to meet his father to go over the costs of the castle and make necessary arrangements for the winter and the upcoming wedding affairs. As the man dressed, he noticed the many scars littering his pail skin, the result of years of training and mistakes with the sword, all of which transformed him into the ruthless fighter he is today. Yet he still felt a sense of insecurity as he studied his shirtless torso, yes he had the long limb trait of his family, and arms and stomach rippled in muscle from his training, but a long scar ran from beneath his left pectoral muscle down his side, and wrapped around to his back. Yet another lesson that must be learned. As He finished dressing, the young Lord was unable to ward off the thoughts of what his new wife would think of him and if she would ever be able to bear the sight of his uncovered chest and back.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

Lord Samwell sat in his study once more, conversing with his advisors about the arrangements still to be made to host the Arryns when they made their journey to the Riverlands when his son arrived. The young lord came and took his seat directly across from his father, but his mind was elsewhere, and he was paying no attention to the numbers or names being thrown about the room. When Samewell finally addressed his son to make sure that he was listening to the important conversation that was happening around him, there was an urgent knock on the large wooden door as a panting soldier entered the room. 

“Forgive me, my Lords,” the soldier began, “But there is urgent news from the border. “The Brackens have crossed the wall with herds of livestock.” The man stated.

Lord Samwell rose in an instant along with his son. Both men had angry eyes and snarls on their lips. Lord Samwell turned to his son, “Take care of them,” the Lord ordered. 

Benjicot answered with a swift nod to his father as he rushed from the room, followed by the messenger. 

“Gather ten men, tell them we ride for the wall and to prepare for a fight,” Benjicot ordered in an eerily similar tone as his Lord Father, sending the messenger to gather the men. When he reached the stables, ten men were already assembled, and Benjicot's horse waiting for him.  

As the man climbed into his saddle, he addressed his friends and men, “They mean to feed their animals on the little food we have left in supply before winter. We must show them once more what happens when they break the treaty agreements.” 

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

Five Bracken men stood guard over the herd of cows that they had allowed across the border. The group was in high spirits as they believed they had successfully snuck through without Blackwood's knowledge. Just as one of the Brackensoldiers was joking with his men about the alleged great fight he had won the previous mourning, he heard an angry cry accompanied by the thundering steps of horses.   

“BRACKEN!” a voice screamed as the group of soldiers rounded the edge of the small forest to the left of the trespassers.

Benjicot and his men had made record time in their journey to the border in response to the invaders. 

“Just what the hell do you think you are doing, you little cunt,” Benjicot addressed as he brought his horse to a standstill a few feet from the cowering men. He watched as the small man sputtered for an answer, taken off guard by the ten mounted men all armed to the tooth. “Because to me, it looks like you have broken the treaty.” Benjicot goaded in a sarcastic tone. “That means I have every right to run your lot down and behead you for trespassing and take this heard in the name of Blackwood as compensation for your mistake.”

The men, once again, cowered at the young Lord's words. This would not be the first time men had died for such a simple act, and it likely would not be the last.

“The herd wandered here on their own. We were sent to retrieve them,” one of the men spoke in a rushed voice. Eager to prevent violence due to the clear disadvantage his men were at. If the Bracken man had more men and weapons, he would not have thought twice about challenging the Blackwoods.

Benjicot stared with a hard look, and the rest of the Blackwood men also showed clear distrust.

“Here's what is going to happen,” Benji started, “We are going to take every cow that is currently standing on our land, and you are going to return to your farmhouse, which you call a keep and keep your heads. Otherwise, I would be happy to leave you a lot here to rot and turn food for the ravens.” 

The men dressed in gold froze, looking to one another to decide on the proper course of action: stand, fight, and die, or run home and confess to their cowardness. With a hard look, the men silently made a decision as they all drew their swords. 

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

“Did you see the way they ran off?” John gasped through his cackles as he and Benjicot led a small herd of cows home to Reventree Hall, which was now within sight. 

“Aye,” Benjicot agreed with a smile, nothing raising his spirits more than a good fight.

The battle had been quick and easy from horseback, and no one had lost their life as the Blackwoods had quickly pushed the men back to their side of the border, refusing to cross it themselves. The once determined soldiers had run, urgently driving the cows remaining on their lands away from the wall and back to safety. The Backwoods laughed as they watched their enemies limp away and gathered their new cows to take back to Raventree. 

Believe it or not, Benjicot loved fighting, the art of it, how he could dance around his opponents, and the adrenalin rush he got from disarming another man. But what he had never told anyone was that he hated killing. In fact, he despised the act. For some reason, the faces of the men he killed had stayed with him, plaguing his nightmares. Their screams and begging always made his stomach churn. He imagined a wife waiting for her husband, who would never return, or a father watching the farm road waiting for his son as the mother fixed too much food for just two people. He could never admit this to anyone, for he had a reputation to maintain. It was that which deterred Bracken's attacks and protected his people. Regardless of his dislike for the act of killing, he reasoned that he would do it as much as needed to protect his people. His enemies would not think twice before running him through with a long sword and then pillaging their way to his home, only to leave it in flames. A long time ago, Benjicot told himself that if his nightmares were the price of safety for his house, his future children, and his soon-to-be wife, then it was a burden that he would happily endure. 

I need him biblically. Anyways... I think im gonna write the next few chapters at once and then post all together so yall can bindge read lol. They will meet soon.

Also, I am so excited for the mutual pining and comfort scenes I have planned, they are coming soon I promise.

[arcane-vagabond]

Don’t Hang’em Til Noon: Chapter Four

Don’t Hang’em Til Noon: Chapter Four

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Assault, Fighting, Violence (against women and others), Jake Seresin, Firearms, Blood. I think that’s it?

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I hope you guys appreciate me neglecting my job to write this lol I’m kidding, we were so slow, I would have been bored to tears otherwise. Just giving you guys a heads up now that I’m going to try and pre-write as much as I can over the course of the next couple of days in preparation for next week when I’ll be attending my best friends’ wedding. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

“I swear, that man would lose his head if it weren’t attached to his shoulders,” you grumbled to yourself, as you made for the front door of your home. You had just finished cleaning up the mess from preparing breakfast when Benjamin had come running down the stairs in a frenzy.

“Benji, come eat,” you had said, gesturing to the table that was already set. He had shaken his head, turning in circles as he searched for his dress coat.

“I can’t, Scout. I’m running late for a meeting with a client,” he had said breathlessly. You rolled your eyes, plucking his coat off the back of the chair he had set it on the night before when he had gotten home. You held it out for him, and he shot you a grateful smile as he shrugged it on.

“At least grab an apple on your way out,” you had argued. He plucked a granny smith from the bowl you had set out on the table, gesturing at you with it before making a beeline for the door.

“I don’t know what time I’ll be home tonight,” he called over his shoulder before the door closed with a thud behind him.

Now, here you were hours later with his case files clutched in your hands and scowl plastered across your face. You slipped past the door, and making sure it was secured behind you, you made your way into Maverick.

It was nearing the end of summer, and a surprising chill was beginning to creep its way into the air. You made your way quickly to Benjamin’s law firm, giving polite smiles to those you passed.

You stepped into the firm with the files tucked tightly in your arms. Natasha came strolling out from the back with a polite smile that turned genuine at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, Scout!” She grinned, gesturing for you to join her in the seating area. You did so, taking a seat on a leather armchair as she sat in the matching one opposite you. “What brings you by today?”

“Benji forgot some of his files,” you sighed, showing her the file. Natasha chuckled with a roll of her eyes. If anyone understood how exasperating your brother could be, it would be her.

“He was up late working again, wasn’t he?” She asked. You shit her a knowing look before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. “That man will blow away with the wind, I swear. How he manages to keep this place in order is beyond me.”

“He may be a tad bit scatterbrained, but he takes his job very seriously,” you smiled. You were surprised he hadn’t come out to see what the commotion was about yet. “Is he around?”

“No,” she grimaced. “His client insisted on meeting at the saloon.”

“I see,” you said, standing up. Natasha followed suit, reaching her arm out to you.

“I can take the files and give them to him when he gets back?” She offered.

“That’s alright,” you declined. “I could use the exercise. You said he was at the saloon?”

“I did,” Natasha confirmed hesitantly. “But Penny isn’t there today.”

You stared at her. “And?”

“It's just that,” she started nervously. “The patrons can get pretty handsy when Penny isn’t there. Not that I don’t think you can hold your own, but I don't want to see anything happen to you should they get any ideas.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Nat,” you smiled. “I’ll just be in and out. I don’t plan on staying for long. I still have things I need to do back at the house after all.”

Natasha chewed on her bottom li, seeming to contemplate her best course of action. Finally, she sighed. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stated firmly, already moving towards the door. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

“Spending time with you is never a bother, Scout,” she grinned. “Stay safe, and give your brother hell for me when you see him!”

You offered her a final wave before stepping back out onto the street. You turned right onto the street, setting your sights on the saloon.

The atmosphere differed from your first time inside the large building. Instead of Penny standing behind the bar with her usual easy going smile, a tall man with glasses stood and waved a greeting at you.

“Welcome in, miss!” He smiled. You recognized him from the other day.

“I know you,” you said carefully, slowly making your way up to the bar as you studied him curiously. “You’re a member of the Dagger Gang, correct?”

His smile turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes’m. My name is Bob, and you’re Scout right?”

You hummed in affirmation. “And Penny trusts you to run her business?”

He laughed at that, almost catching you by surprise. “I get why you find that hard to believe. If I was in your shoes, I’d think that Penny had lost her mind or something.

You chuckled at that. “I suppose it says something about your character that Penny trusts you enough to leave the saloon in your hands.”

“She does,” he nodded. “I don’t take people’s trust for granted.”

“That’s good to know, Bob.”

He smiled at you and then moved like he was going to say something, but he seemed to think better of it. You arched an eyebrow at him as he shifted on his feet, a blush crawling up his face. “What is it?” You asked.

“Penny doesn’t trust just anyone, ya know?”

“I know that,” you nodded. “What of it?”

“The reason Penny trusts me is because I keep the others out of trouble.”

You laughed at that, and he frowned. “I’m sorry, Bob. I don’t mean to offend. It’s just that, well, if they’re out robbing banks and breaking laws left and right, I’d hate to think about what they’d be doing without you.”

“It’s not like that,” Bob sighed. “They aren’t as bad as you may think, Scout. I know Hangman can be…a lot, sometimes. But, everything they do is out of survival.”

“Right,” you scoffed, causing the frown on Bob’s face to deepen.

“I’m serious, Scout,” he continued. “Penny mentioned that you came from Baltimore. I don’t know much about how things are done over there, but I know enough to know how different things are there compared to here. Work isn’t as steady out here as it is back East. Good men do bad things in order to keep their families safe and fed.”

“What’s your point, Bob?” You asked with a heavy sigh. He offered you a kind smile.

“Try not to be so hard on him? I know you’re used to things being a certain way, but believe it or not, he is trying.”

You didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. You mulled over his words carefully before nodding slowly.

“Alright, Bob,” you smiled finally. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His own grew, and he knocked on the wooden top of the bar as he leaned back.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now what brings you by here today?”

Before you could answer, Bob suddenly straightened up to his full height, a cool look on his face as he looked past you. Your brows furrowed in confusion before you felt a warm body push up against you. You whipped around to find a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair leering down at you. The cold, empty look in his black eyes was warmed over by a look of unbridled lust. He gave you a once over, eyes pausing along the curves of your breasts and hips.

“Howdy, darlin’,” he drawled, making the hair on your arms stand up.

“Can I help you?” You asked him coldly. You saw Bob shift in your peripheral as a couple of more men crowded you on the opposite side. The man let out a low whistle.

“Why so cold, honey? I jus’ came over here to introduce myself. Name’s Isaac.”

“Charmed,” you bit out, glare intensifying as he leaned in closer.

“Y’ain’t gonna gimme yours?” He laughed.

“I don’t see why you would need it,” you state simply, clutching the folder in your hand tightly. You cast a glance over to Bob who was eyeing the group of men wearily.

Isaac smiled, the gesture hollow. He reached up and tapped your cheek lightly, and you balked at the gesture. “Eyes over here, honey.”

“I’m going to ask you once to please stop calling me that,” you bit out between clenched teeth.

“Or what?” He grins.

“Or you won’t like what happens.”

Isaac let out a booming laugh, his companions letting out chuckles of their own. You saw movement in the corner of your eye. You once again chanced a look over and saw two of the men had crossed over to the other side of the bar. The two men had Bob caged in between them, and his eyes darted rapidly back and forth between the two of them. Isaac grabbed your chin tightly in his large hand, forcing your head back to look at him. “What did I just say about those eyes?”

“Let go of me,” you hissed, earning another chorus of laughter from the group of men.

“A feisty little thing you are,” Isaac chuckled, leaning so that his breath fanned over you. It reeked of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. “I see why Hangman has his eye on you.”

“What?” You asked, brow furrowing at his comment.

“Just so you know,” he grinned, “you have him to thank for this.”

Before you could question him further, he grabbed you by your hips and slammed you up against the bar. You felt the air leave your lungs and a flash of pain shoot up your spine. You saw Bob struggling against the two men beside him as they pinned him back. His eyes blazed and nostrils flared as he tried with all his might to break free of their hold. Your brief moment of confusion allowed Isaac to push his way in between your thighs. You felt the hot length of him press against you, and you started to struggle, clawing at his arms. Tiny ribbons of blood began to flow down his arms as he bared his teeth down at you in a crazed grin.

“That's alright, Kitten,” he laughed. “I like a bit of pain with my pleasure.”

He leaned down, slanting his lips on top of yours, and you felt the hot sting of tears behind your eyes. He thrusted up into you, causing you to gasp and cry out. He took the opportunity to force his tongue into your open mouth, and you almost vomited at the action. Without thinking, you bit down on the offending protrusion, the taste of blood filling your mouth. Isaac lurched back with a yelp, grabbing at his mouth. He glared down at you.

“Bitch!” He spat, backhanding you. Your face flew to the side, a flash of white hot pain radiates from your cheek where one of his rings had made contact, cutting you in the process. You felt blood begin to trickle down your cheek, and your tears threatened to spill over. Isaac gripped your hair roughly, slamming you back down onto the counter.

“You’re going to regret that,” he hissed at you as you fought against the dizziness that threatened to consume you from the force of his actions. Your tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as the larger man grabbed at your shirts and skirts, ripping them in a bid to get them off of you.

“No!” You screamed, renewing your efforts. Isaac ignored you as he licked up the column of your throat. Your sobs racked your body violently, legs kicking at him as he moved to undo his belt buckle. You closed your eyes in an attempt to shield yourself from what was about to happen.

Just when you thought all hope was lost, a resounding click sounded in the room. Isaac stilled against you, and you cracked your eyes open to see the barrel of a pistol pressed to his temple. Turning, you saw Jake on the other end of the weapon.

His green eyes were filled with the intention of murder as his lips curled in a sneer of pure wrath. His body was drawn tight, deathly still as he waited for Isaac to make his move. He looked every bit of what you imagined an avenging angel would look.

“Let. Her. Go,” he ground out. Isaac spared a glance at you, and the gun pressed harder into the side of his head. Slowly, the older man pulled away from you, and you scrambled to sit up on the bar. You now saw the rest of the Daggers standing behind him with their hands on their own pistols. The two men behind the bar had let go of Bob who was now moving to your side. You heard footsteps begin to descend the stairs, and you looked to see Maverick, Benjamin, and an unfamiliar older man stop as they took in the scene before them.

“Scout?” Benjamin said, eyes widening in shock. You let out a shaky breath, turning back to watch Jake who had yet to take his eyes off of Isaac. The two stared each other down.

“Hangman,” Isaac finally sniffed in way of greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Jake snapped. Isaac rolled his shoulders back casually as if there wasn’t still a gun aimed at his face.

“Well,” he drawled, “I came to collect retribution for what you took from me, but then I saw you with this pretty, little thing the other day, and I figured this would make for a good trade.”

Jake’s nostrils flared, a dangerous glint in his eyes as Isaac spoke. “I didn’t take anything that you couldn’t replace.”

“I disagree,” the other man hummed, picking a piece of lint off his shirt. “You wounded my pride, Hangman. And what better retribution than taking your woman?”

Jake’s jaw clenched, and you saw Maverick move out of the corner of your eye.

“Jake,” the older man said gently. Jake spared him a glance before focusing back on Isaac. Maverick continued, “Not here, son.”

Jake looked at him, and when Maverick gave a pointed glance at where you sat, frozen, he turned his attention to you. You must have looked a sight because Jake’s jaw clenched again. You could feel the tears still streaming down your face and mixing with the blood that still dripped down your cheek.

“Jake?” You called to him softly, uncertainly. He took several deep breaths.

“The only reason you’re leaving here alive,” he rumbled, nodding his head over at you, “is because she’s here.”

Isaac watched him for a moment, the two of them not breaking eye contact. Isaac huffed out a light chuckle before turning towards the door. He gave you one last glance before smirking, gesturing for his men to follow.

“You best keep an eye on her, Hangman,” he called over his shoulder. “Would be a right shame if something were to happen to her while you weren’t lookin’.”

Jake said nothing as they filed out. One man stopped beside Bradley, casting him a sideways glance. “Rooster.”

“Jeb,” Bradley replied coldly. The two shared an unspoken conversation before the man followed the rest out the door. As soon as they were gone, Benjamin rushed to your side.

“Scout, what happened?” he cried, checking you over. You looked down at yourself, noting how the collar of your white, cotton shirt hung by mere threads off your shoulder. You frowned at the tiny drops of blood that had fallen onto the ruined fabric.

“I,” you swallowed thickly, “I was coming to give you the casework you forgot at home this morning. I thought it might be important, so…”

You trailed off, your eyes taking in the multiple tears of your skirt, a new wave of tears pouring from your eyes. You jumped when Jake appeared in front of you. His eyes were still blazing, but you saw worry mixed in with the rest of the emotions still swirling within the different shades of green.

“What the hell were you thinking,” he seethed.

“What?” You blinked. He took your shoulders in his hands, surprisingly gentle for how angry he seemed.

“How many times do I gotta tell you that you need someone with you? Especially in here?” he growled.

“I didn’t think-”

“You’re right,” he snapped, his grip slightly harder as his frustration with you grew. “You didn’t think, and you almost got hurt because of it.”

You felt your own temper start to build as you stared up at him.

“Stop treating me like I’m some helpless child,” you snapped at him. Jake barked out a humorless laugh.

“You’re not a child, Scout,” he flung back at you. “And, that’s why it’s so damn frustrating when you do stupid shit like this.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly you can’t,” he seethed. Your jaw clenched, and you practically threw yourself onto the ground. You pushed past him with a glare and started for the door.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, already moving to follow you. You whirled back around, stopping him in his tracks with a finger to his chest.

“I’m not going to sit here and let you insult me,” you spat at him. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you in to him.

“Have you learned nothing from what just happened?” he glared down at you. “If we hadn’t already been on our way in to see Mav, well shit, Scout. Isaac would have had you every which way and then passed you around to his crew. Don’t you understand that?”

“Let go of me,” you ground out, trying and failing to pull your arm free of his grip.

“No,” he stated firmly, eyes set in a determined bid to win this argument. You gave another tug, but his grip didn’t falter.

“You don’t seem to get it, darlin’,” he sneered. “This ain’t Baltimore. People don’t hide their ugly nature behind polite smiles and fancy clothes. People here take, and they sure as shit don’t care who sees them do it."

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "Tell me you understand.”

You nodded, still glaring furiously up at him. He shook his head with a wry smile. “Uh uh, sugar. Need to hear you say it.”

“I understand,” you snapped. He finally let you go, and you wrenched your hand back. The two of you stared a beat longer before you heard Benjamin clear his throat.

“I’ll take you home, Scout.”

“No,” you said automatically. “You’re busy. I can see myself home.”

“Not happening,” Jake said. “I’ll walk you home.”

You went to say something, but he fixed a hard stare at you, cutting you off. “Don’t even try to argue with me right now, Scout. I’m taking you home, and that’s final.”

You huffed, turning on your heels and stormed out of the saloon, Jake hot on your tail. The two of you walked in silence, townsfolk casting you wide-eyed looks as you passed. When you reached your front door, you whirled around to face him.

“I’m home,” you spat. “Safe and sound. Are you happy now?”

Jake stared at you, his lips set in a hard line.

“The boys and I were plannin’ on leavin’ for an excursion tomorrow,” he said, “but I think I’ll stick around.”

You scoffed. “If you’re worried about what Isaac said, don’t be. It’s you who should be worried, actually.”

“Oh?” Jake chuckled. “And why is that?”

“I’m only telling you this as a way of thanking you for your help in the barn the other day,” you began, Jake arching an eyebrow at you. “But there’s a U.S. marshal after you and the other Daggers.”

Jake barked out a laugh, and you stared at him in confusion. Jake looked at you with a wide grin. “I ain’t worried about a U.S. marshal, pretty girl.”

“How are you being so cavalier about this?” you snapped, placing your hands on your hips.

“Because they’re always after us,” he shrugged. “Besides, I can take care of myself. You on the other hand-”

“I can take care of myself just as well as you can,” you huffed. All humor dropped from Jake’s face as he gave you a look that said he clearly didn’t believe you. You scowled at him, stalking into the house. He followed you as you marched into the kitchen. You grabbed the rifle that Benjamin insisted you keep by the back door “just in case,” and walked out the back door. Jake kept following, and you stopped just outside on the porch.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” He chuckled. Wordlessly, you scanned the yard, finding a forgotten bucket sitting on the fencepost about fifty yards away that you must have left out that morning. You raised the rifle to your shoulder, took aim, and-

BANG.

The bucket went flying in the air, a hole where you had hit it dead center. You let the rifle drop from your shoulder as you held it by your side. Turning, you caught the look of shock and intrigue that graced his face.

“He caught me off guard today,” you said. Jake looked at you, wonder shining in his eyes. “He won’t do it again.”

Jake studied you for another moment before nodding his head slowly.

“Alright, Scout,” he relented. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

[taylorswiftstyle]

Time 2023 Person of the Year | December 6, 2023

Bardot 'Roll Neck Knit Bodysuit' - $69.00

I think we have all collectively lived so many lives within the Swiftieverse in the year 2023. This year has given us so much.

But the greatest gift of all? The editorial photoshoot debut of one Benji Button.

Onto the fashion! Given the high leg cut and pairing with shiny black tights, this look gives me very Madonna vibes. In other photos of her in this simple ribbed bodysuit, we see Taylor flexing her arms - to me a callout to the Eras Tour choreography for "The Man" and of course embodying her power and femininity.

I love that the shoot's team worked together to give a look that's pared back and a play on ballet femininity and strength (styled by Heidi Bivens) while also providing references to some of Taylor's most iconic beauty signatures like tousled curls (by Holli Smith) that feel closer to the natural texture of her debut era, and a bold red lip (by Diane Kendal).

Photo by Inez and Vinoodh for Time

[squishfacestudio]

We're back!

Haven't posted in a long time. Homecooked Comics Festival has gone to bed, but Emerald Hill Comics Festival is our new event, and it's on this weekend.

Since we ended Homecooked, Victoria doesn't have any comics festivals focused on local work (as far as we know)! We're glad to start a new one. It's an experiment to run a festival in our new space at Studio Hall, and we hope it will have legs.

Join us! We have a great lineup of artists and retailers from Melb, Vic and around Australia.

Come and meet: Sticky Institute, Angie Spice, Peter Lane, Daniel Reed, Khale McHurst, Nhu Duong, Bruce Mutard, Mirranda Burton, Jo Asscher, Cockatoo Comics, Amplified Press (Owen Heitmann), James Steeth, Nem, Alien Mandy, Roger Stitson, Neale Blanden, Ira Francis, Steven Christie, Squishface Studio, Eli Abidin, Andrew Pilkington, David Mahler, Andy_drws, Reimena Yee, Ann Li Khaw, Stephanie Luo, Tree Paper Gallery, Gestalt Comics, Sabina Wills, Alex Smith, Stephen Cox, Benji Bajorek, Helen Graham, Ive Sorocuk, Zander von Stiegler, Jess Wilson (Dubblu)

WHEN: 11am - 4pm, Sunday 15th September WHERE: Studio Hall (319-327 Dorcas St, South Melbourne: on the grounds of St. Kilda South Port Uniting Church, next to the Port Phillip Men's Shed)

Entry is free!

More info.

Join our Meetup page for updates on the festival and other Squishface events.

[catb-fics]

Catfish & the Bottlemen Cardiff Castle July 2024