#the next part is gonna be the most tedious one

[danidrawsstuff]

more once upon a december progress because this mini project is quickly becoming my latest fixation :)

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[apricityxoxo]

Sound of Your Voice

✧.*Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc about 3k

✧.* summary: Routine. Continuously. Everyday. Every day since that day. He is used to a routine, that’s how he normally lives. His routine was tedious and had recently started to feel mundane. Like a never-ending cycle of constant repetition, a cycle of violent missions and loneliness. That was most certainly not the case now. Now he has you, and he is addicted.

✧.* content: mainly fluff, a bit of violence (simon gets in a fight duhh) and a bit of suggestive dialogue

✧.*This is part two to Help and Care, Here is "part one", it can be read together or separately.

I'm so sorry this took such a long time, I've been so busy and I haven't been in a writing mood. I'm gonna start updating more and writing about different characters. lmk who you want me to write for next. pleaseeee interact, i love hearing from yall.

Routine.

Continuously.

Everyday.

Every day since that day.

He is used to a routine, that’s how he normally lives. His routine was tedious and had recently started to feel mundane. Like a never-ending cycle of constant repetition, a cycle of violent missions and loneliness. 

That was most certainly not the case now. Now he has you, and he is addicted.

He makes his way over… starting to rush a little. 

He keeps checking his back, ensuring no one is following, checking to see if anyone's watching. 

Sometimes he feels paranoid, worried that rumors will spread. Reputations ruined, your reputation ruined. He has seen it happen before and doesn't want it to happen to you.

He finally arrives at the building, making his way past the receptionist's desk. He doesn't have to look, he knows that the receptionist is shaking her head. He knows this path like the back of his hand. When he finally arrives at the door, a weight is lifted off his shoulders. 

It’s like the feeling of pure relief. 

He checks his surroundings while turning the handle and with his free hand, he begins to pull up his mask. He pulls up his mask with a large smile on his face, mentally preparing himself for the intense makeout session that was about to start. However, before the session was about to begin he realized something strange.

Your office was empty. This was the exact time he came to visit your office every other day, so why was today different? Where were you? He started pacing, trying to think where you could be. Where? Where are you? What are you doing? Why aren't you here? 

He's freaking the hell out.

Where are y–

“She's not here son.”

He pulls down his mask and quickly faces the voice. He turns and sees a tall but thin older woman in the hallway. She looks away from her clipboard and looks up at him with her thin almond-shaped eyes over her slim reading glasses. When he still doesn't address her she rolls her eyes and looks back at her clipboard. 

“She should be back next week, it won't kill you to be away from her for a week…right?” She says with a sarcastic smirk on her thin lips. 

So, word had gotten around. 

She walked away while shaking her head.

He had to wait a week, he could do that. 

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He could not do this. 

He's going crazy, it has been six days and he thinks he's going to kill himself. It's been a horrible week for him and many are starting to notice. God, he’s gotten addicted to you.

He's been snappy, and everything is starting to set him off. He doesn't think he's ever been madder in his life. He's like a ticking time bomb that is constantly being set off…

And these recruits were going to make him explode.

They had the same attitude they always had, but he couldn't tolerate their actions with you not here. He was harder on them than usual and irritated by everything they did wrong. He didn't have time for their cockiness, their back talk, and their disagreeable attitudes. However, that's all he received, and he had had enough.

“Harder, you have to hit me harder. Unless you want to die out there.” Ghost said with an angry stern tone. He was training a young recruit, they were on the training grounds surrounded by other recruits and onlookers. The recruit he was training had extremely short-buzzed black hair, was well-built, and had impressive combat skills. His name was Thomas… he thinks. He has a lot of potential, he could make it far if he wasn’t a cocky asshole. Thomas's hits were impressive but not up to his standards. He needed to try harder and be better. 

“If ya not going to try hard, I can train someone else,” Ghost said, sick and tired of this recruit's lazy antics. He could tell his corrections had been irritating Thomas. He was rolling his eyes, shaking his head at Ghost.

“Come on!” Ghost yelled. He watched as the concentration in his eyes turned into pure anger. Ghost thought that anger would encourage him to fight harder, but all it did was make his mouth move more.

“Don't be mad at me because you haven't seen your bitch in a week.”

Ghost doesn't think he’s ever punched someone in a while as hard as he punched Thomas. What was a sparring session between mature respected soldiers, quickly turned into what looked like a nasty bar fight between infantile men who couldn't control their temper. Punches were thrown back and forth and soon they both ended up on the ground. A crowd of men formed a circle around them, cheering them on and guessing who they think will win.

“Get the ‘ell off me!” Thomas yelled, trying his hardest to get from below Ghost.

Ghost didn't say anything, he was more focused on teaching Thomas to watch his mouth. He knows this isn't good for his reputation. He knows that this proves all the rumors about him and you true. He thinks about how he shouldn't do this, after throwing a punch to his face, but he doesn't care.

He was ready to throw another hard blow to the right side of Thomas’s head before he heard a bellowing voice. 

“What’s goin' on here?!” Ghost stops and Thomas quickly crawls from under him, ready to salute his captain. 

Ghost stays on the ground looking at the floor. 

“That's enough training for today. You're all dismissed.” Says Captain Price, followed by the sound of soldiers dispersing. Then he feels a firm hand on his soldiers.

“You're dismissed too Ghost. Go take a nap or something, your piss-poor mood is showing.” Price says the smell of expensive cigars follows him as he walks away. 

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“Piss-poor mood, I'm not in a mood…”

“...he should’ve watched his mouth”

Ghost continued to murmur to himself as he made his way over to his quarters. Upset by the eyes that followed him. He didn't feel upset, he felt fine. He's not the problem, everyone else is for upsetting him. 

He makes his way down a hallway and near his quarters but before he can get within a couple feet of his door, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and his eyes widen in utter shock and surprise. 

“So, I'm gone for not even a week and you're already beating up little kids?” You say. You look beautiful, your hair is done differently than normal. Your skin looked kissed by the sun and glowed under the artificial lights in the hallway, God he missed you. He missed the sound of your voice.

“It's not my fault, he should've watched his mouth.” You could practically hear the smile forming on his lips as he spoke to you. He was slowly closing the professional and appropriate gap between you.  

“Did ya miss me?” You ask in a soft sultry voice, as you look up at his tall frame through your eyelashes.

He didn't respond but by your face, he could tell you already knew the answer.

“What did you do while I was gone?” you said and as you spoke you started to walk away, and like a loyal dog, he started to follow.

“I found ways to busy myself” he lied. In reality, he did his work and was pissed while he did so. Everything that happened while he worked ticked him off. He didn't like that the recruits talked back when he gave them corrections. He didn't like how cafeteria food tasted when you weren't there to distract him. He especially didn't like how he couldn't visit you in your office on long days.

When he wasn’t working, he was at the pub drinking his sorrows away with Johnny and drinking and drinking even more so that he could forget that you're not around. You're not around, and he can't listen to you ramble about your unique interests like your troublesome cat, the most recent book you read, or the hairstyle you were planning on getting next. He really missed that. 

When he wasn’t working or drinking he found other ways to distract himself.

Other ways that made him feel ashamed. 

Other ways that made him sleepless at night, and drowsy in the morning. 

You made him crazy. You drove him absolutely mad. He couldn’t think straight around you, and it confused him. 

He’s had girlfriends, and hookups, even one-night stands. None of them compared to the way you made him feel. You made him feel lightheaded, you made his heart race, and you made him throb at just the thought of you. 

He wanted more.

He was tired of the flirty banter, the soft touches, and the heated makeout sessions in the privacy of your office. 

He wanted to get to know you, the way no one else has gotten to know you. 

Out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

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God! Men! 

How dare Simon give you less than an hour and a half to get ready! 

You’re so nervous, you’re literally trembling. You haven’t felt this way about a man, ever. You feel ridiculous! 

All your life you pushed away the attention of men, in order to succeed in your career. You were always taught that men would stop you from succeeding, they would only drag you down. 

However now, you don’t give a shit. You don’t care if Simon drags you down to hell, you’ll skip right along with him. He makes you feel high like you’re weightless and on top of the world. 

He so entrances you that you think if he asked you to run away and sell crops in the middle of nowhere, you’d say yes. You’re crazy and delusional, and you don’t care. 

You invited a friend over to help you style your hair, wanting to do a natural look for your first date with Simon. As she styles the curls and coils of your hair, she can’t help but make fun of you. 

“I can’t believe ‘Ms. I don’t need a man is going on a date!” She cackles, and goes on saying “And she’s nervous!” She all but hollers. 

Even though you don't appreciate the hollers and cackles from her, you can’t help but giggle along with her. You were a hypocrite.

…

Okay, even with the time given… you look good. Like, really good. You always look good, but damn. Right now, you look fine. 

You managed to search for a dress that was elegant and sexy at the same time. A black dress that hugged your curves beautifully, with a high slit that showed your glowing legs. You paired it with jewelry, a black bag, and black heels. Your makeup was finally finished and as you started to set your face you heard a knock at the door of your apartment. 

You felt your heart sink and doubt started to creep into your mind. However, before you have time to second-guess yourself, your friend sprints down the stairs to let Simon in. 

You rush to grab your purse and your phone, hyping yourself up as you scramble around your room. “You can do this, you got this” “he’s already into you, there’s no need to worry” “You’re a bad bitch, the baddest”. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and head downstairs. 

As you make your way downstairs you find Simon and your friend talking. Simon is wearing the face of a child who has been punished by his parents and your friend has her back to you. 

“What's going on?” You ask, confused. “Nothing!” Your friend said with a bright and mischievous smile on her face. You roll your eyes, knowing that she's probably giving him the best friend speech. 

“Love you, have fun!” She says as she walks past you and gives you a friendly kiss on your cheek. 

When Simon finally looks at you, you can see his face physically soften. He looks nice, you lied cause he looks so handsome. He's wearing straight black dress pants, and a short-sleeve white button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. He looks classy and slutty at the same time. It's making you warm up inside, especially with the way he's looking at you.

His hair is styled differently, instead of the messy blonde tussles of hair that usually adorn his, it looks like he attempted to style his hair. His beard also looks trimmed and cleaned up, not fully shaven though. He holds himself more confident than normal but his face has nervousness written all over it. 

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God, you look good, so good. You look good in your scrubs and tennis shoes but right now you look amazing. You look beautiful, you look so beautiful that words can’t describe how he feels right now. It was absolutely worth getting the "You better treat her right" speech from your friend.

He was nervous about planning this date, he wanted it to be perfect. He tried his best to find the best restaurant near your apartment knowing that you’re, what you call, a foodie. He searched all day for somewhere worth taking you to. When picking out his outfit he had to go off base to find a new shirt.

He cleaned up his beard and even thought about shaving it completely, but he decided against it last minute thinking about all the times you've played with it. He also styled his hair but it looks messy now due to all the times he nervously ran his hands through it. 

He needed this date to be perfect. It had to be. It had to be as perfect as you.

“I brought these for ya,” He said, as he grabbed the flowers off the coffee table with sweaty hands. He gave you a beautiful bouquet. A bouquet of vibrant lilies that went together perfectly with beautiful white flowers.

“Aww! They’re beautiful, how’d you know these were my favorite?”

“I’m psychic,” he said with a wink. He saw a picture of a similar bouquet while you were scrolling and liking posts on your Instagram. You smile to yourself and look down.

“You look good, Simon,” you say to him, so soft it almost sounds like a whisper. He loves the sound of your voice. He loved how it made him feel and he couldn't get enough of it.

After you complimented him, he took a couple of steps toward you until your chests were pressed together. He looks down at you and holds your face with his hands. “You look beautiful”. He leans down and gives you a soft and gentle kiss on your thick glossed lips. You feel dazed after that kiss and he asks “Ya ready?”, with a cocky smile. He was perfect.

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Dinner was less than perfect…

The hostess was rude, giving you nasty looks. During dinner, Simon called the waiter a clumsy, forgetful, flirt. The waiter was so busy trying to get your attention that he ended up spilling your drinks on you and giving you the wrong food. Finally, when you do get the right food it was “bland shite” as Simon described it, cursing the people who gave this restaurant anything above a two-star review.

As he paid the check, refusing to let you even reach for your purse, he pettily left a no tip and a short message. You giggle your way out, laughing at his pettiness. As you make your way out, he's profusely apologizing as you wrap your arms around his thick bicep while trying to clean the huge stain on your dress.

“I'm sorry love, thought the restaurant was good and it was gonna go different and-” You're not even focused on him nor your dress anymore. Your eyes drift away to the colorful ice cream stand and your mouth all but waters.

“Do you want ice cream Si?” You interrupt him with a bright smile on your face. You let go of his arm and make your way over to a cute ice cream stand. 

You bend over with a slight arch to your back and look at all the ice cream flavors. You feel a presence make its way over to you and feel a hand go from your upper ass to your hip. “What do ya want Si? My treat!” you look up at him “Nah, you don’ need to get me anything, love, I'll pay”. You continue, ignoring him, “You seem like a cookies and cream kind of guy, or maybe French vanilla, ooh cookie dough?” there was a silence for a couple of seconds, then a deep sigh “Mint Chocolate-chip” 

You look at him and giggle, you knew he’d like something weird. “You got it, Si!”

You order and pay for the ice cream after going for a walk as you both enjoy the sweet treat. You find a bustling Main Street near the ice cream stand that’s illuminated with street lamps, fairy lights, and boutiques. You both walk down the street hand in hand while eating your treats. You walk and window shop and point out things you find cute to Simon. Then, a surge of happiness fills you. You haven't felt like this in years, Simon makes you feel alive, in a way you have never felt before. You finally finish your ice cream and feel the need to tell him how happy you feel. You both drift away from the crowd and make your way to a bench illuminated by a warm street lamp, that's where you finally stop and look up at Simon.

“I having a wonderful time Simon, thank you.” You tell him and you squeeze his hand as you do.

“I'm real glad ya are. I was nervous ‘bout this and I feel like I screwed up with dinner and the waiter was a flirty arsehole and I just wanted this to be perfect with the-” 

“I have a wonderful time, every time I'm with you. It's always perfect with you.” You interrupt his nervous ramble with your own. “I haven't really done any of this before and I feel kind of dumb but I like the way I feel when I am with you.” Then you start getting honest, real honest, “After I graduated med-school, I couldn't find a job and I was looking everywhere and no one was hiring me, it was so frustrating”. You continue, “So when I found that job at the military base, I impulsively took it. And when I did, I immediately regretted it, it was far from home, my friends and family, and a new environment, but now, I have great friends, an apartment that feels more like a home every day, a crazy cat, and more” You pause, and grab his hands. “I think it's one of the best decisions I've ever made” 

Simon then rips his hands from yours and grabs your face pulling you impossibly close to him. Giving you the greediest kiss you have ever felt. 

His lips intertwine with your own and you wrap your hands around the back of his head.

The most passionate kiss you have ever felt. He pauses the kiss and you go up to reach his lips once again but before you can he interrupts you by speaking.

“I'm so glad I went to the infirmary,” he says then he pulls you back in.

You know that from this moment on everything is going to be okay.

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I hope you all enjoyed pls let me know who you want me to write for next

[pinkacademiaprincess]

Any guide on Elle woods / hermione / rory coz I had no study motivation 😮‍💨

“she’s like a real life rory gilmore…”

fictional study icons guide, part 1: rory gilmore

ty for the ask! i’m gonna make this multiple parts, next will be elle woods, i never read/ watched harry potter tho so idk about hermione 🫣 but if y’all want me to do other characters, feel free to send ideas!

know your goals

rory had a clear idea of what she wanted for herself: to go to harvard & to become a journalist. when school & studying starts to feel tedious or difficult, having a strong “why” will keep you going. maybe you want to get into a certain school, you have a dream career path, or you want to become extra knowledgeable. never lose sight of your goal - surround yourself with reminders of it. rory had harvard memorabilia hanging in her room as a constant reminder of what she was working towards. you can create a vision board online, print pictures & hang them in your room, put notes up on your mirrors & walls. remember that classes, tests, & assignments are all leading you to a greater goal. studying is a means to an end and you deserve the best ending!

study a lot

rory prioritized her studies and spent a lot of her free time on schoolwork. the easiest way to succeed is to put in the time. don’t cut corners when it comes to your education - do your homework and assignments diligently, go through assigned readings & videos carefully, & if the teacher gives you optional/additional work, do it. remember tho, it’s important to study smarter, not harder. the most beneficial thing you can do is spend as much time as possible utilizing study methods that work for you. don’t waste time on study methods that aren’t effective for you. you can search my older posts for info about study styles or google learning styles & use that to help determine your best approach to schoolwork.

conquer challenges asap

when rory first started going to chilton, she unexpectedly got a bad grade on one of her first essays. she could have sat there and made excuses, felt sorry for herself and blamed the school/ teachers, but instead she worked extra hard to improve and overcome that poor grade. in the end she was valedictorian, showing that she was able to rise to the challenge and ultimately succeed. if you find yourself struggling with schoolwork, please take initiative asap and get whatever help you need. utilize all your resources - teachers, classmates, youtube video explanations, khan academy, tutors (if possible) - do not allow a dip in performance to be your norm. try to get to the bottom of why you’re struggling and then take care of whatever’s causing it. if you let yourself succumb to the struggle - telling yourself it’s because of bad teachers, the content is too hard, etc. - the only person who is gonna suffer in the long run is you. be proactive and take charge of your education.

take breaks

while rory did spend a lot of her time studying, it didn’t rule her whole life. she still made time for friends, family, and fun activities. life is about balance, and you don’t want to burn yourself out by spending every waking moment on school. take breaks for fun, to spend time with loved ones, to get fresh air & be active. give your mind breaks so that you can stay in top shape. that being said, make sure you strike a balance. don’t let your social life get in the way of your academics, but don’t let studying stop you from living life.

read a lot!

when i think of rory, i think of reading. she always has her nose in a book! she not only reads, but she reads books that are thought-provoking and intellectual - classics, non-fiction, and so on. reading is a wonderful hobby and it can also be a way to expand your mind. challenge yourself by reading books that are somewhat difficult to challenge yourself to read closely & dissect the content. find classics that genuinely interest you or non fiction on topics you enjoy. combine the fun of reading with the desire for intellectual growth. by reading more difficult books you can improve your vocabulary, build you reading comprehension skills, become better at analyzing literary devices, and overall become a more interesting person.

that’s all! have a great school year & best of luck with your studies! 🩷

[topbottomswitchblade]

Intro To Knifeplay

I'd been wanting to make a tutorial and then @hollyhocks-hoping asked if I had any tips for getting into knifeplay so that finally motivated me enough. Gonna try to make this seem like a really know what I'm talking about and not get anyone killed.

First things first: Knifeplay is risky. It can cause actual harm. But like, so can driving a car, so we mitigate the danger with things like seat belts and drivers ed. This is drivers ed. (driver's ed? drivers' ed? hm.)

There's different ways to do knifeplay that can make it more safe or more risky, depending on what you want out of the experience and are comfortable with.

On the safest end, you can use alternatives to real/sharp knives. I'm going to give some examples but to be clear I am not vouching for any specific products because I have not used them because I skipped the safety level and went for blood. But that's just me.

Acrylic/resin knives (example 1, example 2, example 3,)

Training knives (example 1, example 2)

This is a knife you can order dull, which is kinda the same as a training knife, but I'm making a separate point to say: I have seen some people give advice on ways to dull a blade so you can use it for knifeplay and um. Don't Do That. First of all, very tedious. Second and more importantly, it's unlikely you'll get it to a safe level of dull and could end up hurting your partner/yourself worse if you get careless thinking it's low risk. And if you get cut, it won't be a clean cut. Also the one I linked it sold out sorry. But this one is a dulled bowie knife intended to be used as a paddle?

Putting a butter knife in the freezer so you get the chill of a cold blade without it being sharp. Pair it with leather gloves so the dom's hands don't get cold.

Of course, there's still risk associated with a dull or non-metal blade. If you're like "let's do a scene where I stab you to death, and baby, I'm going for an Oscar," you can still, like, stab your partner. It just won't do as much damage as a real knife would. Like, getting shot with a paintball vs a bullet. Still hurts, but it won't kill you. Don't jam it in their eyes or whatever.

Next up on the danger level: Using real knives without intending to cut your partner.

Use the spine instead of the blade.

Here's is a v simple diagram for our purposes

This comes with some risk (especially with a clip point) as the point is still sharp

But if you want to flash a real knife and hold it to their throat and whatnot, you can press the spine to their skin instead of the blade. Note: even I, as a pretty experienced knifeplayer, do not hold the blade's edge to my partner's throat. If I want to do that, I still use the spine.

You can also use the flat of the blade, which I'm going to say is a touch more risky because edge will be against their skin. Your sub will have to be good and keep still.

Next level: Making shallow cuts with the tip

What I usually do with my partner is use the back side of the knife (spine towards their skin) and make scratches and shallow cuts with the point of the blade. Keeping the blade edge turned away and only using the point gives me more control of the depth. I don't have to worry so much about actually slicing deep, but it's still sharp enough to draw a bit of blood.

Like so

It gets results like this

Pro tip: Open up shallow cuts wider (but not deeper) by paddling them afterwards 👍

I gave an example of clip and drop point above because they're the most common for folding knives, and also are featuring in my parts diagram, but for this practice I also use a karambit which looks like this

Obviously in this case I would not be facing the blade away to use the tip

Spice it up: Put the blade in your sub's mouth. But watch out!

Questionable method: Light stabbing

So. You can push the point in a bit before it breaks skin (unless it's a really sharp blade). I started incorporating this, but then one time I did break skin and it started For Real Bleeding. I staunched it with a tissue for a minute and it stopped and you couldn't even see the puncture, but uh. Probably won't do that again. Do with that what you will. Don't kill anyone; I don't want my blog to appear in court.

I don't think I should really suggest anything more extreme than that in good conscience. I'm sure there are people out there who go harder, but you'll have to find those people and ask them. Ultimately if you practice it safely and feel confident enough to experiment that is a call for you and your partner when you feel ready, just be smart about it and be prepared for do first aid in case of accidents.

Suggestions for blades:

Knives come in a wide range of types and prices, but you can find pretty good ones for like $20-30. Even name brands like Smith & Wesson can be anywhere between $15 and $160. Or if you want a really fancy one like a Benchmade they can run up to the multiple hundreds. But you don't need that.

I've gotten a few of my knives from megaknife.com

Outdoors/sporting goods stores (Cabela's, Tractor Supply Co, Dicks, etc)

Website for a specific brand (Smith & Wesson, Buck, Gerber, etc)

Exacto knives (craft or office supply stores) or scalpels if you want to do some carving. I have used an exacto knife but I prefer regular folding knives. I have not used a scalpel so proceed with caution.

Be aware of the knife laws where you live! This is more for if you're going to be carrying the knife, but still. Usually blades over 3" fall under concealed carry laws.

Safety tip: Aim for meaty parts. Avoid veins and arteries.

Sanitation:

Use alcohol wipes on the blade and skin beforehand. Wash your hands or wear gloves. Clean the cuts afterwards using a gentle soap and warm water. Do not use alcohol on the cuts afterwards. I mean, unless that's part of your pain play but I don't know if that would even be fun lol. You can use neosporin, bactine spray, etc as well.

In general, use good BDSM practices. Talk it through beforehand to establish what you and your partner are comfortable with. Use safewords, give aftercare with the first aid. Don't hesitate to check in throughout. Take it slow when you start out. Don't feel like you have to go hard and draw blood the first time you try it.

[dengswei]

your gifsets are perfect, I'm always in awe of what you can do and you're creativity!!! Could you please explain how you made the broken glass gif with different gif in it on photopea? https://www.tumblr.com/dengswei/754916132337729536/userdramas-creator-bingo-green-asiandramanet?source=share and would it be possible to do something similar with other shapes? Thank you for your lovely creations <33

heyy thanks so much!! and of course! i have to admit the way i do it might be a little bit tedious compared to like everyone else (though i don't know how photoshop users or other photopea users might do it 🤣) okay this is gonna end up being so long because of the way i do it so i'm sorry about that and i hope it makes sense 😭

okay i have to admit i couldn't find the texture i've seen people use for the shattered glass effect so i actually used a photopea default brush from this pack

to download the brush set go to window -> plugins -> brush and then search for wall cracks brush (it's literally the only wall related brush set in photopea so it'll show up the moment you download it)

so for the gif i did above i did my giffing the usual way of creating & colouring for different gifs seperatly and then adding them all to one project (it doesn't have to be 4 gifs i just chose 4 because that's what i wanted to show in this gif)

i've done this twice once for this set and another time for this the blood of youth set and i have to say the most important part of this is keep multiple versions of the brush in the position you want as you can so once you've used it to test it out and you like that version keep it because unless you can manage to position the brush in the exact same place every time you're gonna need to reference those (or even use the magic wand tool for it later) and also you need to keep at least a white on black background version for the outline

in the brush pack the one i used was this one: (3564, crack b 9)

for this part i just say play around with both positioning and sizing of the brush, it automatically opens with the size 3000+ which is fine i think with the tushan jing one (the green gif above) i stuck with that size and just kept clicking around until i got the positioning i wanted (this is another reason why i said what i said in the paragraph above because if the brush size is bigger than 1000 it's doesn't come out in the exact positioning as you expect it too

i decide the positioning of the gifs on the way i like the brick brush looking rather than the other way around, this is the positioning i went with if you're curious & would like to use it if that's easier 🤣

you'll need to keep this as a seperate layer at the top, i had it set to screen and then added a colour fill layer clipped on later so that i had the outline for when i was masking

so to start off i have the base gif which i do nothing to, that stays as it is, with the brush layer above set to screen

next is where you want to position your other gifs it may benefit to figure this out all at first before doing any of the masking so you know which parts you want to erase and which parts you want to keep

so this is what i decided with my positioning looking at where each of the cracks are

now comes the tedious part, in some ways the way i do this is a lot similar to how i do grid but it's not as easy (for grid photopea automatically locks onto the squares making it easier to mask, here you have to do it all manually)

first put a raster mask on all of the other gifs except for the base gif & use the magic wand tool on the brush layer so you get the outline of the brush and you mask that away from your gif (so if you turned off the brush layer it should look a little something like this: (it's not perfect but it won't matter that much because you should have the original turned on at the end anyway) (you don't have to do this step tbh i just did it because i thought it looked better)

so with the brush layer turned on you can use that as a template to which parts of the cracks you want to erase, you can either use the magic wand or the paint brush tool it really depends on how much of a perfectionist you are and whether or not the sharp edges bother you (plus some of the cracks have small openings so it might erase another part you don't want if you use the magic wand tool so it really is another instance of playing around and seeing what you like, and it might also change once you add the other gifs too)

so this is how it looks after i've done that (notice in the middle you can still see the edge of the gif? that won't matter because one of the other 2 gifs i still have yet to mask will cover that) & just repeat the same thing for the other gifs you want to add

this is how my masking folders look if you're curious

& last but not least i added a green colour fill layer clipped to the brush layer and set that to darken to get the green effect (make sure that the brush layer is still set to screen)

& once you've merged all of the gifs together you should get your desired outcome like the gif above (make sure that all the gifs have the same amount of frames too)

when it comes to other shapes i'm sure you can! like i did a tutorial with the grid version here, i guess it'll just be a lot of trial and error & finding a texture or brush with different shapes to try it out with kinda like how i did with both versions of this (i definitely did it a lot better this time around compared to the first version i did of this)

hopefully this wasn't too long or too confusing, if anything is please feel free to ask me again and i'll try and explain it a little better 🤣

[aannonn]

⭑.ᐟ˚⭐彡 // bold text , strong colors , spoilers

A TLDR about the podcast for those who don't really want to watch the whole 1 hour and a half video !! :> ( I had posted it here before but I deleted it cause I wanted to wait a bit until I finally 'completed' it (technically speaking 'cause I'm only really making a TLDR at what my brain stuck onto or else I may get burnout. (っ °Д °;)っ) so I wouldn't have to edit this post every time . . lol ... feel free to add anything else in the reblogs/notes though !! ^ _ ^ )

The Most Successful Stick Animator in the WORLD Ft. Alan Becker - Dojocast Ep.6

。─ ⭐ Animation vs. Animator/Minecraft Stuff !!

° . They have been working on AvA 11 for over a year ;; 20 minutes long ;; Probably the biggest one they have ever worked on ;; They are doing their best to push it as early as they can , possibly around early december or even late november // { 54:07 }

° . They have a Minecraft Short being worked on about BedWars ;; This one's been really complicated since they are using real Minecraft acting with stickfigures // { 54:56 }

° . Next thing coming up is a Three-Part series about Green ;; It's a surprise. lol // { 55:40 }

° . AvA is going to be atleast Three seasons ;; As long as AvA and Minecraft are popular they are gonna keep going // { 57:08 }

° . King Orange used to be King Gray for a long time ;; Alan was considering to make him a light purple for a while // { 58:10 }

° . Alan's favorite is The Second Coming // { 1:06:36 }

° . Alan had different ideas for the 'fight scene in the box // { 1:19:29 }

° . Animator vs. Animation was originally supposed to be a trilogy ;; At the end of AvA3, everyone was supposed to die ;; His senior year college Teacher, who knew about his animations, gave him the idea to continue the series // { 16:45 }

。─ ⭐ Alan Becker's Production Team & Other Stuff !!

° . Alan's biggest inspiration was his lead animator; Terkoiz = The same one who worked on AvPhysics // { 1:00:07 }

° . Alan is the lead creative ; Hatena is the line producer ; There are three project leads = One takes care of AvA , One takes care of AvM , One takes care of Everything Else ; The animators are not segmented into only a certain series , they work on everything based on their skill set ; Also a Production Assistant that helps Hatena takes notes // { 1:02:34 }

° . An advice for any animators struggling to break into the industry/studios be it Indie or major ones : TLDR: The best thing you can do as an Independent artist is post your work as much as you can, and eventually opportunities will land and you have to take them as they come. You have to put yourself out there; Get yourself into as many doors as possible, and just get to know everyone. // { 1:07:29 }

° . They got inspiration from BoxOfCrayons' Voices Plus Faces !! // { 1:15:27 }

° . Alan made Animation vs. Animator 1-4 completely on his own. ;; Animation vs. Minecraft was when he decided to experiment in having a team of animators, and he did it with the diamond armour as it was an extremely tedious process (he taught 5 animators to do that). ;; in Animation vs. Youtube, Stone and Oxob were the first two animators he trusted to animate stickfigures. // { 27:45 }

° . ABTV is basically a loop compilation of all the AvA/M videos they ever made ;; They are trying to make it fun by adding little transitions between the episodes like "you're watching ABTV !! ^0^" ;; Eventually it'll get to every single transition between episodes; Is unique // { 48:44 }

[cuties-in-codices]

Where do you find these manuscripts? Is it like a website or do you find it randomly??

hey, thanks for the curiosity! lenghty answer below the cut :)

1)

medieval manuscripts are typically owned by libraries and showcased on the library's websites. so one thing i do is i randomly browse those digitized manuscript collections (like the collections of the bavarian state library or the bodleian libraries, to name just two), which everybody can do for free without any special access. some digital collections provide more useful tools than others (like search functions, filters, annotations on each manuscript). if they don't, the process of wading through numerous non-illustrated manuscripts before i find an illustrated one at all can be quite tedious.

2)

there are databases which help to navigate the vast sea of manuscripts. the one i couldn't live without personally use the most is called KdIH (Katalog der deutschsprachigen illustrierten Handschriften des Mittelalters). it's a project which aims to list all illustrated medieval manuscripts written in german dialects. the KdIH provides descriptions of the contents of each manuscript (with a focus on the illustrations), and if there's a digital reproduction of a manuscript available anywhere, the KdIH usually links to it. the KdIH is an invaluable tool for me because of its focus on illustrated manuscripts, because of the informations it provides for each manuscript, and because of its useful search function (once you've gotten over the initial confusion of how to navigate the website). the downside is that it includes only german manuscripts, which is one of the main reasons for the over-representation of german manuscripts on my blog (sorry about that).

3)

another important database for german manuscripts in general (i.e. not just illustrated ones) is the handschriftencensus, which catalogues information regarding the entirety of german language manuscripts of the middle ages, and also links to the digital reproductions of each manuscript.

4)

then there are simply considerable snowball effects. if you do even just superficial research on any medieval topic at all (say, if you open the wikipedia article on alchemy), you will inevitably stumble upon mentions of specific illustrated manuscripts. the next step is to simply search for a digital copy of the manuscript in question (this part can sometimes be easier said than done, especially when you're coming from wikipedia). one thing to keep in mind is that a manuscript illustration seldom comes alone - so every hint to any illustration at all is a greatly valuable one (if you do what i do lol). there's always gonna be something interesting in any given illustrated manuscript. (sidenote: one very effective 'cheat code' would be to simply go through all manuscripts that other online hobbyist archivers of manuscript illustrations have gone through before - like @discardingimages on tumblr - but some kind of 'professional pride' detains me from doing so. that's just a kind of stubbornness though. like, i want to find my material more or less on my own, not just the images but also the manuscripts, and i apply arbitrary rules to my search as to what exactly that means.)

5)

whatever tool or strategy i use to find specific illustrated manuscripts-- in the end, one unavoidable step is to actually manually skim through the (digitized) manuscript. i usually have at least a quick look at every single illustrated page, and i download or screenshot everything that is interesting to me. this process can take up to an hour per manuscript.

---

in conclusion, i'd say that finding cool illuminated manuscripts is much simpler than i would have thought before i started this blog. there are so many of them out there and they're basically just 'hidden in plain side', it's really astounding. finding the manuscripts doesn't require special skills, just some basic experience with/knowledge of the tools available. the reason i'm able to post interesting images almost daily is just that i spend a lot of time doing all of this, going through manuscripts, curating this blog, etc. i find a lot of comfort in it, i learn a lot along the way, and i immensely enjoy people's engagement with my posts. so that's that :)

[qiu-yan]

3 6 7 11 16 20 25

bro is trying to get me killed lmao /s

choose violence ask game

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr:

this shit

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

gonna be honest here, the single most annoying part of the MDZS fandom is that one hyperspecific sort of wang and xian stan who insists on shitting on not only the other characters, but also other wang and xian fans who ship the characters in ways they don't approve of. this kind of stan can not only be relied on to have the worst possible takes on everyone ranging from jin guangyao to jiang cheng, they can also be relied on to harass other wang and xian fans simply for putting wang on the bottom. fun times.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

surprisingly, no one yet. sometimes i feel the hater urge to dunk on the morally-pure version of wei wuxian that the diehard wei wuxian stannies have collectively hallucinated, but i still find the wei wuxian from canon to be quite compelling.

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

the "canon jiang cheng" and "canon jc" tags. everyone stfu

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

"morally pure wei wuxian who did nothing wrong ever." to me, wei wuxian's hubris, his unique capability for inventing new kinds of cruelty, his failure to think of the consequences of his actions, his tendencies to run away from negative feelings, and his ultimate failure to protect the people he was trying to protect, are what make him a compelling character to me. these flaws in parallel with his courage, kindness, stalwart moral compass, and genuine love make him interesting to me. so i don't quite understand fans who instead insist on erasing all the morally grey and highly interesting stuff he did in favor of insisting he did nothing wrong ever.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

not quite what the question is asking, but i found the actual wang and xian romance in the original novel to be a bit lacking. mainly because (as other people have said already) a lot of the romantic development happened when lan wangji was drunk. at the very least, i wanted to see lan wangji's reactions to his various drunken adventures once he sobered up the next day, and i'm rather disappointed we never got to see that.

furthermore, on wei wuxian's end, it did kind of feel like wei wuxian was using this exciting new romance to distract himself from his past problems, even though it also seemed like he didn't actually know all that much about lan wangji. the only version of the romance that makes sense to me is the one where wei wuxian was already into lan wangji (subconsciously or consciously) in his first life; otherwise, wei wuxian falling in love with lan wangji during his second life, when he's yet to process any of the shit that happened in his first life, feels too much like him running away from his problems with a guy he believes will validate all his decisions. meanwhile, on lan wangji's end, i feel like the novel just did not give us a lot to work with in regards to his character. so it feels like, if you want to be a fan of lan wangji, you have to do a lot of the legwork of building up his personality yourself.

what also disappointed me a bit about wang and xian, as well as lan wangji's character arc itself, is that lan wangji is never really challenged on a moral-dilemma level in the same way that many other characters are challenged by the story. how do i explain this...alright, i'll put it this way. i've been brainrotted about madohomu (madoka magica) since i was in middle school. and that's partially because i know for a fact that, if homura was put in the trolley problem and had to choose between [killing 5 strangers] and [allowing madoka to die], she would choose to kill those 5 strangers to save madoka. but after reading MDZS, i realized i legitimately did not know what lan wangji would do in such a moral dilemma. because MDZS equates [being morally righteous] with [supporting wei wuxian], lan wangji is never placed in a dilemma where he has to choose between sacrificing wei ying and doing something the audience would think of as unforgivable.

these are just my own hyperspecific tastes, though.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

gonna put my hater hat on for a second, but i kind of roll my eyes at the jiang cheng haters complaining about how jiang cheng stans keep posting in the "canon jiang cheng" tag. dude, if it bothers you that much, just block the jiang cheng stans. then things will be peaceful in your favorite tag again.

[princessbunnib]

König |Masturbation Headcannons|

NSFW Under The Cut

Author's Note:

These are very random because I just typed as things came to mind.

On my period which means I'm basically in heat. Here's some filthy König Headcannons.🤤

More König Smut coming. Been taking a break from COD so I can write for a different fandom. Also been taking a break in general. I'll post full smut fics again just wait patiently please. I love all of you♡

Where Does He Do it?

König masturbates at home considering that's always conveniently where he is when an erection accures.

How Does He Do It?

König doesn't have much toys that are for him only. He also isn't the one who goes to the sex store and gets them. You gifted him a fleshlight because you thought it would be extremely hot to know that he uses it.

He hasn't used it much but when he's really riled up- he'll use it and imagine he's fucking you while watching the lewd videos and pictures you've sent to him overtime. He had to buy many phones because he always ruins them by getting carried away when masturbating and accidently finish on them.

Either he come inside the toy for however many loads he can produce, or it's on his phone.

When Does He Do it?

König will masturbate whenever he has an erection like one does. Or other times when he finds himself missing you, he'll masturbate to remember your face until you come home. Although this has a downside, you usually come home to him needing the real thing rather than using a flashlight or his hands. Needless to say, whatever outfit you're wearing will be ripped off of you so he can fuck you.

How Does He Feel About Masturbation?

König doesn't have any negative opinions about this at all. If he needs to come but can't do it the way he usually does it, he will masturbate. He gets tense a lot and chews gum to sooth his nerves. But when he doesn't have any gum the next best thing is to come in order to control himself.

He doesn't tell you about his solo sessions. For all you know, he doesn't do it at all. Since he only does this when you're not home and is very discreet about it, you have no clue.

How Loud Is He?

For the most part König is quiet because his biggest fear is you coming home and seeing him in such a vulnerable state. But when he's on the verge of coming he will say any and everything remotely sexual that he can think of. Rather if it's him talking to himself or talking as if you're the one who's making him come.

"Fuck~ I need to remember how tight you are around my cock- I Miss Youu~ Come home to me already..."

"I'm gonna come- I'm gonna come- I'm so fucking desperate to come, please let me come~"

"Mommy~ mommy please- haah~♡ I'll be good- let me come... ughh fuck..."

"My fucking cock is burning- Coming... coming... coming... c-c-com-coming..."

Stamina

König's rest time is very short. When he's with you he'll do as many rounds as you'll allow him to. When he's alone, it's the same thing. He won't finish until the bottle of lube he's using Is atleast half empty. Or if he runs out of things to clean up his messes with.

Take A Load Off

He can come a lot. Because of his line of work he has to keep a balanced diet to maintain his physical strength. Daily workouts and a lot of healthy home-cooked meals he prepared himself.

Not only his body is healthy. His balls are too. He can produce a lot of come, therefore his creampies are no joke. When he plans on forcing himself to come a lot he'll use his flashlight to lessen the mess. Although it's a bit tedious to clean up the tog after. Not only he is big, his balls are too. They aren't just for show either. They're big for a reason.

His healthy liifestyle makes him have a higher sperm count. Which means that If you weren't on birth control, you would have definitely had a lot of his babies by now.

Take Me To Kinky Town

König has a lot of kinks already. There's some that you still don't know about unfortunately. He's only told you the ones he didn't think would make you think negatively about him.

Even though König can seem to be emotinaly fragile when it comes to your relationship with him, he degrades himself when he's masturbating.

Part of him reels guilty for coming without you. Why creampie a sex toy when he can give it to someone who will actually enjoy it.

The only time he thinks he deserves Praising is of you're the one doing it. He knows he has a praise kink but is too shy to admit it to you. You always like to make a fool out of him by asking him to do a simple task for you when you clearly are able to do it yourself.

He's always looking to be useful for you so he'll do it no matter how easy it may seem. Telling him he's a 'good boy' or just outright saying he's doing an amazing job will give him an erection in an instant.

He'll have to get away from you and take care of this 'personal problem' so you don't get any ideas and use this praise to your advantage just to get your way. If you tire him out with sex or any form of ejaculation, he'll be like putty in your hands for atleast two days.

[bomberqueen17]

Liveblogging the Aubreyad 2: Post Captain, part 1

The main thing to know about the second book in Patrick O'Brian's Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin series is that it's really really really fucking long.

i was trying to sum up the plot even to myself and uh. it’s like. Late in the book there’s a dated letter and I realized it literally covers an almost four-year period. So like… as Inigo Montoya says, “Let me explain. No, no there is too much. Let me sum up.” But I can’t.

I went through and summarized the whole book in detail one night when I was having an insomnia issue and it was like a fever dream, and I'd read it twice and listened to it a third time before I started this project and still was like "WAIT there's MORE?" as I kept skimming through. But I'm gonna try.

I will begin unpromisingly with some tedious background worldbuilding stuff, though. Yes the entertaining way to do this would be We Didn't Start The Fire style rapid-fire snippets but do you know how much work that is? no I spent long enough reading this book I'm not doing that for you. Sorry.

I will relent, however, and give you one exciting tidbit: this book contains female characters, plural! Yes multiples of them! Round characters, with multiple facets apiece! Enticing, no?

So the underlying mechanic beneath like, a solid 75% of the plot of these books is promotion. For every naval officer in the series, this is a large portion of their motive for every issue.

There are three categories of members of the Navy in this respect. The first one is the foremast jacks-- your enlisted men, though in this time period they were often impressed, forcibly conscripted. They can achieve various ranks within themselves, specialty crews and various small statuses and such, but even the most dignified, long-serving of them is still subject to being flogged or beaten or disciplined at any time without any real recourse.

The next category is the ratings, or warrant officers-- subtle distinctions among them, but broadly speaking on the same level. The master is in charge of the navigation and general sailing of the ship, the bosun the rigging and masts, the purser the purse (money and supplies), the gunner you can probably guess. A surgeon has a warrant rather than a commission. And the midshipmen have ratings, not commissions either.

But midshipmen are eligible for promotion to lieutenant after six years of sea time. Once they are made lieutenant, they are a commissioned officer, no longer subject to flogging or dismissal out of hand-- they must be court-martialed for such a thing to occur. They get half-pay when on shore. They accrue seniority. A lieutenant can then be promoted to master and commander, as we saw in the first book. And from there he can be promoted to a post-captain, and from there promotion is automatic (though, crucially, a command is not), according to seniority. This will become important later. A post captain will become an admiral solely through seniority, in due time when it is his turn.

But an officer who doesn't have a stellar service record AND influential friends is very likely to be sidelined regardless of seniority. Many, many men serve thirty years as a lieutenant, never promoted. Still more languish as master's mates, the seniormost rating of a midshipman's rank. And even once made post, men languish ashore, and by the time they're made admiral, have so little renown that they're never given any kind of command at all and stay ashore doing nothing more than drawing half-pay.

I'm explaining all of this because much of the series winds up being an ongoing, meditative reflection on the benefits and flaws of such a situation, and we see incompetent men promoted while competent ones are sidelined, over and over. And this book shows the beginning of Jack Aubrey's career-long struggle to not only keep himself moving up this ladder, but also to try to take some of his people with him-- especially TOM PULLINGS, who as a former foremast jack from a family of dirt farmers, has absolutely no political influence of any kind, and cannot hope for any.

(This is, I think, part of what makes this series so readable. On the face of it it seems like oh no this is some rah-rah Royal Navy bullshit, but if you actually look at it, it's a pretty warts-and-all depiction, oftentimes depressingly heavy on the warts, which is much more interesting and also easier to stomach. I did have a little trouble with the book where they're fighting the War of 1812, though, where everyone was so dispirited that the Americans kept winning and I was like "wait no I'm rooting for those guys." LOLLL.)

But you didn't come here for this. You came here to know what happens in this book. And for that, I will do my best to convey some of it. I'll lead with a couple of teasers.

there are fly honeys. oh yes.

Stephen forcefems Jack into adopting a female bear as his fursona, for literally months. No I am not making this up.

TOM PULLINGS no you'll just have to get there to see, I can't bullet point him

Jack abducts a mugger

Barret Bonden beats a cop unconscious

That's enough teasers. Let's start with the fly honeys.

Everyone is ashore, and Jack has set himself and Stephen up in a sweet bachelor pad, with a crew of his favorite sailors as household staff. (Don't you fear, Preserved Killick is here.) His nearby neighbors are a household entirely made up of women: a horrible old woman, with three reasonably hot young daughters, and an incredibly hot niece. The war is over for now (it's the Peace of Amiens) and there are no ships to be had, but Jack has some money and is ready to do some fox hunting in more than one meaning of the word.

The neighbor is called Mrs. Williams and her oldest daughter, Sophia, is 27, willowy and ethereal, innocent and appealing. But her cousin Diana, about the same age, is a young widow brought up in India, and has incomparable style and dash. Stephen is completely smitten, but makes the mistake of telling her he's not really into women as women so much as he is interested in them as people, and she spends the next age treating him like absolute shit trying to get him to admit he's into her. Meanwhile, Jack is really into Sophia, but Diana is so dashing he can't help wanting to pursue her too, and so he and Stephen wind up unhappily romantic rivals. It doesn't help that Sophia is too innocent and entirely under her mother's idiot ill-natured thumb to straightforwardly reciprocate Jack's interest.

Jack throws a huge party, to be sociable, on Valentine's Day, in honor of the Battle of Cape St Vincent, of which he is a veteran. Babbington attends, and on his way there he is to pick up Diana, who had been sent to stay with another relative for a bit to get her out of the way so Jack would pay more attention to Sophia instead, Mrs. Williams being, to put it kindly, a conniving old bitch.

Babbington, as it turns out, is a horrible driver, which leads to perhaps the single funniest passage of the book.

“… she said [to herself], 'It will never do. This young man will have to be taken down.' The lane ran straight up hill, rising higher and higher, with God knows what breakneck descent the other side. The horse slowed to a walk - the bean-fed horse, as it proved by a thunderous, long, long fart. ‘I beg your pardon,' said the midshipman in the silence. 'Oh, that's all right,' said Diana coldly. 'I thought it was the horse.' A sideways glance showed that this had settled Babbington's hash for the moment. 'Let me show you how we do it in India,' she said, gathering the reins and taking his whip away from him.

Really, Diana is amazing, and you can almost forgive her for how horribly she treats Stephen. And Jack.

Anyway the overarching plot is now beginning-- it comes up (to the reader, though not to other characters per se) that Stephen is becoming quite involved in naval intelligence; his Catalan background means he's indispensible given that the British are keenly interested in using the cause of Catalan independence to divide Spain, preventing it from effectively allying with France, which is quite openly using this peace to amass an invasion army to take England. Shit is tense, in Europe.

But meanwhile at home, various legal matters are resolved badly and it turns out that instead of being owed thousands of pounds in prize-money, Jack has to repay eleven thousand pounds to the owners of ships he took that the courts decided were in fact neutrals. And to make matters worse, his prize-agent, to whom he had entrusted the management of all the money he did earn, suddenly folds, taking all the money and running. Jack's money is just gone, with no recourse. So now Jack, according to the law of the time, is subject to arrest and imprisonment until and unless he can pay off the entire debt.

Which he can't. So he has to go into hiding. And Mrs. Williams decides that as he is in her eyes a common criminal she no longer wants him to court her daughter, so contact with Sophia is cut off, which makes them both miserable.

But Stephen has a Spanish passport. So he takes Jack across to France with him. They visit Christy-Palliere, the French ship captain who captured the Sophie in the previous book. He is delighted to see them-- so delighted that he embraces Jack and kisses him soundly on both cheeks, which makes Jack blush enormously.

And then war breaks out again. Napoleon has all British citizens in France arrested. Jack and Stephen must flee, lest they rot in a French prison for the duration of however long this round of wars lasts.

Whew that's enough plot isn't it? Oh no. There's so much more. I'll divide here. Stay tuned for Part Two, in which the bear thing will be explained, oh yes.

[aralezinspace]

Summer Knight Part 1

When Crown Prince Morpheus is summoned to his father's court for the summer, he expects it to be just as tedious and aggravating as any other season spent in the Dreaming's capitol. What he doesn't expect is an attempted kidnapping, a successful kidnapping, uncovering designs on the Dreaming's throne, and a handsome esquire he really isn't supposed to fall in love with. How can he not, when Hob Gadling sees him for who he is, and not just his station? How can he not, when Hob is willing to burn down the world for him? Or: Prince!Morpheus/Commoner!Hob Gadling medieval/fantasy AU

~~Masterlist~~

After three months (probably more tbh) here it is! My contribution to the Centennial Husbands Big Bang.

This would not have been possible without the support of the entire Sadman server, for which I am endlessly (haha) thankful. @delta-pavonis and @signiorbenedickofpadua, I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without your eyes and encouragement. Thank you for letting me scream about these boys at/with you, for ideas when I got stuck, for helping me tease out the snags. Y’all are fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE

This beautiful incredible art by @wolf-and-raven-dreaming / @ambarden I’m just blown away. Thank you so much for bringing such a beautiful moment to life, especially one that I didn’t get to give as much detail in this fic. I’m obsessed with it, prob gonna make it my phone background 💖

If this story inspires you to create something of your own, please share with me so I can keysmash and gush over what you make!

Divider by @cafekitsune

Prologue

Once, in a time out of thought and memory, there was a realm called the Dreaming- so named because a place so magical and splendid could only possibly exist in one’s most vivid imaginings. The weather was always as it should or needed to be, the land lush and bountiful, even in the harshest climates. The people of the land were, on the whole, prosperous and contented. The Dreaming was not without its troubles and hardships and tragedies- no land is, no matter how prosperous-  and for some, life was rather hard, but never unbearable.

Like any kingdom in a faerie story, the Dreaming was ruled by a king, a queen, and their children. This story, however, only concerns one, the third son, Prince Morpheus Aeterna. Morpheus and his six siblings each ruled a shire within the Dreaming, with the capital city of Istoria on the eastern coast, the lands of the Dreaming appearing to fan out from the city like rays of the rising sun. 

Morpheus was lord of one of the Dreaming’s most important and vital border shires- after all, that’s what you did with a third child, a second son, with a great aptitude for ruling. One who also happened to be heir to the throne, the next in line to be called Dream King. His shire was called Fiddler’s Green- the land was varied, a little corner of everything: snow capped mountains, lush fields of vibrant grass and wildflowers, bountiful forests, a beach of black sand bordering a navy inland sea. 

Morpheus’ kingdom shared a border with the realm of Fawney Rigg, a land of dense thickets and haunting mists and old, angry trees. It was ruled by King Roderick Burgess, a ruthless and bitter old man who should have had many happy years yet before him. But, his greed and jealousy were near endless; he had already conquered several other realms by war, subterfuge, or a combination of both. In the twilight of his life, he set his sights on the Dreaming, and it is here our story begins.

“My lord?”

Morpheus was jolted from his wandering thoughts by Lucienne, his most trusted advisor.

“My lord, a message has arrived from your father the king.”

A frown etched itself onto the Prince’s face as he pushed his breakfast to the side- what an aggravating way to start his morning. He took the tightly rolled scroll of thick, handmade paper and unrolled it with long, bony fingers. His frown grew more pronounced the further he read.

“My lord?” Lucienne was almost hesitant, her fingers tight around the ledger she carried. “What news from his majesty?” Morpheus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture he had picked up from his father despite his best intentions.

“It is a summons,” he ground out. “He wishes me to attend him at court for the summer.” 

Lucienne frowned with a pang of sympathy. To say that Morpheus and his father King Chronos Aeterna did not get along was well beyond an understatement. Morpheus was the opposite of everything his father had wanted him to be, showing more interest and aptitude in creative and scholarly pursuits than learning the craft of war, as was expected of a crown prince responsible for strategically valuable border territories.

Spending any amount of time at his father’s court was tedious at best. An entire season was sure to be nigh unbearable. 

He gave a resigned sigh. “Begin making travel arrangements. I will draft a response to my father.” He gave the order with all the flat dread of someone about to face the noose. It was going to be a long summer. 

And so it came to pass that Morpheus began the four day journey, following the border of his land and Fawney Rigg until they reached the Gates of Horn and Ivory, massive gates and walls carved of white stone that spanned the entire border of Istoria. If one walked along the wall from end to end, they would see the entire history of the Dreaming laid out before them, carved into the stone. Morpheus could feel his hackles rise as the gates creaked and groaned open, allowing him and his party into the bustling city. He thought he could feel the mythical creatures carved into the gates frowning at him. Folks going about their business immediately stepped out of the road and bowed, looking up through their lashes, hoping to catch sight of the Prince and not just a flutter of emerald livery in the wind. 

The procession slowly made its way to the palace, where the King, Queen, and their retainers were waiting at the top of the great stone stairs. Marble walls and gates that were miniature recreations of those guarding the city, depicting the history of the Aeterna line, were flung wide open, knights standing at attention. Banners bearing the golden Aeterna crest on deep blue fabric flapped in the breeze.

Morpheus’ first thought was that his mother seemed pale. Queen Nocturna had always been fair- Morpheus owed his complexion to her, along with his bright blue eyes- but under the light of the late afternoon sun she looked frail and sickly in her midnight gown, as if the slightest breeze would scatter her into dust. Her hair had long since faded from inky black to the shining silver of the moon, but it lacked the luster Morpheus remembered. Had it really been that long since he had seen his parents? Had something happened?

Beside her, King Chronos stood as regal and stony as ever. There were a few new lines on his face, and a few more gray hairs in his dark beard, but the frown he had reserved for his third child since Morpheus reached his majority was dour and disapproving as ever.

The Prince was announced as he dismounted and approached the foot of the staircase, a herald bellowing his numerous titles for the assembled. When that list was exhausted, he ascended the stairs until he was two steps below where the King and Queen stood, leaving him shorter than his parents– normally he was of a height with his father, and half a head taller than his mother.

Chronos shook his son’s hand with a stiffness only Morpheus could see. “Be welcome, my son.” The King ground his teeth. “It is good to see you.” 

Morpheus quickly bowed his head with a curt, “Father.”

Once Chronos released his hand, the Queen enfolded Morpheus in her willowy arms. She could feel some of the tension leave his body in the relative safety of her embrace. Her smile was beaming when she pulled away to look at him.

“You look well, Morpheus. I’ve missed you, my dear.” 

Morpheus kissed her cheek in greeting with a tenderly murmured, “Mother.” The Queen had always been a refuge for her son when his father insisted on Morpheus being someone he was not- she encouraged him to pursue his passions, constantly reminding him that there was more than one way to be a strong King. Always out of earshot of Chronos- even to his wife and son, he was their King first, a father and husband second, and his word was law.

“Come,” Chronos said to Morpheus, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “You must be weary from your journey. Be welcome and make yourselves comfortable.” He clapped Morpheus on the back and guided him into the palace, followed by his retinue. Once the royals were out of sight, the crowd dispersed, the spectacle now ended. Only one man lingered near the bottom corner of the ancient palace stairs, leaning on a stout quarterstaff.

It is here necessary to briefly introduce Robert Gadling. Orphaned at seven, he was one of a good number of parentless children, now adults, who did odd jobs for the businesses of the city, as well as the government- everything from construction to loading and unloading ships’ cargo, from running messages to protection from overzealous loan collectors if need be. On occasion, a few would be hired by the day to work in the palace, mostly on structural repairs and maintenance.

Robert, or Hob as the townsfolk called him, was a natural born protector. He had never been one to back down from a fight, and, as he planned to live through all his fights, he dedicated much of his time to developing his skills. He would often be seen near the docks or the entrance to the market, talking with foreign merchants and their guards, asking them to teach him what they knew of combat in exchange for a day’s labor. His friends constantly warned him that knowledge wouldn’t buy him food or lodging, but he would just laugh. 

It was in this fashion he honed his skills over the years and taught them to his fellows. He could disarm anyone in a matter of seconds and have a man twice his size on his back in under a minute (so the children said). He had even studied the blade, something his fellow brawlers stayed away from- too much like the royals and knights, they argued, and rolled their eyes when Hob insisted on learning anyway. No one would think it to look at him, that an average sized and modestly handsome day laborer would have such a knack for survival and zest for life. 

Hob’s best friend noted the glazed, entranced look on his face and gave him a teasing shove. “Come on, Hob,” he goaded, “Leave the royals to their tea and cakes, we’ve got work to do.” 

“Piss off, Adrian,” Hob replied as he returned the shove with a brief smile. “Not every day you get to see one roll into town. Besides, I’ve never seen Prince Morpheus before. Heard the rumors, but I had no idea he was so- so…” That glazed look returned as he searched for the right word. 

“Arrogant?” Adrian supplied. “Sour? Pompous?”

“Beautiful.” Hob’s response was barely a whisper, as if the sentiment was something he wanted to keep secret but couldn't stop it from slipping out. 

Adrian rolled his bottle green eyes. This was not the first time Hob had been besotted with someone after a glance, nor was it likely to be the last. The man had so much love in his heart to give, he just also happened to have a bad habit of choosing the worst possible people to bestow that love upon. Adrian could only hope this would be one of his shorter and less depressing devotions. Gods knew Hob had less than a figment of a chance with the Prince.

“Come on, lover boy, Waldren’s waiting for us.”

Adrian wrapped an arm around Hob’s shoulders and turned him away from the palace. Hob went willingly, but not without one last misty-eyed glance over his shoulder, wondering idly what the Prince was doing behind those marble walls. 

Chapter 1

According to Morpheus, attending his father’s court and sitting in on council meetings fit the definition of ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. He rarely had anything to contribute to the other nobles’ gossip- not that he wanted to get involved in the first place- and the council advisors just loved passing off his suggestions as their own. His presence amounted to little more than an interesting trinket brought out at opportune moments to curry favor- or, in some cases, to parade in front of potential spouses. It seemed that this summer would see at least a dozen suitors visiting the palace over the course of the five and a half months Morpheus would be at court.

Finally, one sweltering and humid summer day, the Prince reached his tipping point. He was hot and sticky, aggravated and on edge. This breaking point came around mid morning, when he had had enough of listening to the pompous treasurer drone on and on. Without preamble, he rose from his seat and stomped out of the council hall, ignoring the calls of his father and the advisors. Everyone he passed in the halls jumped out of his way, able to feel the ire rolling off him like the heat rising from the cobblestones.

He needed to get out, away from the palace, and burn off some of this aggravation before he did or said something rash.

His first stop was his chambers, where he changed from the fancier attire expected at court to a loose-fitting gray shirt and black cotton breeches tucked into tall riding boots. Already feeling a little better, he made a beeline for the stables. His piebald mare Jessamy was munching happily in her stall, but perked up when she heard Morpheus’ footsteps. The Prince waved off the anxious stable boy who stumbled over the words, “Should I saddle her sir?” in favor of slipping on the bridle himself and swinging up onto her bare back.

With a few clicks of his tongue and a gentle nudge with his heels, Jessamy gamely trotted out of her stall, past the stable boy, and all the way into the courtyard before tossing her head and cantering out the palace’s southern gate, away from the city. 

The paths through the forest were wide and well kept. Morpheus followed the main road for about a mile before turning onto a trail that was barely visible, unless one knew where to look. He slowed Jessamy to a walk to better navigate the tall grass and rushes that threatened to overtake the narrow trail. This far into the woods, all the Prince could hear was the birds, the wind, and the puffs of his and Jessamy’s breaths. A relieved sigh rattled out of his lungs and he slumped slightly on her back. 

The trail ended at a small lake surrounded by willow trees. The air was cooler here, almost like stepping into another world. Baby shoots of grass were starting to poke through the previous year’s fallen leaves, and twittering birds fluttered between branches. The lake was surrounded by intermittently placed boulders of various sizes, giving it the appearance of a faerie ring, or a window to another world. Some of these boulders were light and bare, others dark with patches of lichen and moss. They all made for excellent perches to sit on and dip one’s feet in the water. 

Tiny fish swam about in their schools, the concaves of their nests visible on the lakebed through the crystal clear water. A frog croaked from somewhere within the leafy plants growing stubbornly between the rocks and into the lake.

Morpheus dismounted with another sigh and loosely tied Jessamy’s reins to a branch. The mare shook her head again and began to delicately nibble on the new spring grass. While she enjoyed her snack, Morpheus sat on one of the flatter boulders at the edge of the lake and tugged his boots off, followed by his socks, then his shirt. 

The moan he let out when his feet slipped into the cold water was almost indecent. He let his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt back as he dug his toes into the soft silt. After a few quiet minutes, he rolled his breeches up to his knees and waded further into the lake, his arms held out slightly for balance as the sand shifted beneath his feet. He waded deeper and deeper, all the way to mid-thigh, not caring in the least that he would be riding back with soaked trousers. Adding one more item to the list of things his father berated him for wouldn’t make a difference. 

Morpheus already felt much better than when he left the palace, but he could still feel his hackles bristling, could still sense the undercurrent of tension and resentment running through his shoulders. The cold water was, apparently, not to be enough to cool him off. 

With an almost aggravated sigh (how could it have come to this?), Morpheus loosened the ties at his waist and reached past his undergarments into his breeches. A rumbling groan slipped past his self control as his fingers wrapped around his cock. His other hand shifted the waistband of his breeches so his cock could spring free, a shiver running down his spine at the contact with the humid air. His toes curled into the lakebed as he moved his hand faster, occasionally running his thumb over the slit. 

He had worked himself to full hardness and was eagerly chasing his high when a branch snapped in the trees behind him. He jumped, startled, and his head swiveled, looking for the source of the sound. The Prince held still, so still that no new ripples formed in the water around his ankles. 

After moments that seemed like years, Morpheus relaxed ever so slightly. It was probably just a deer stepping on a dry twig. His cock throbbed insistently, as if urging him to get back to the task at hand. Morpheus shook his head and turned his focus back to between his legs. 

Another rustle in the bushes, this one closer. Morpheus frowned; he had now been twice interrupted, and the agitation was creeping back into his bones. “Who’s there?” he called, hoping he sounded more angry than anxious. He tucked himself back into his trousers and sloshed out of the lake, muscles coiled in anticipation. 

Out of the trees stepped a man. Clearly a commoner, if his worn shirt and breeches were anything to go by. Dark hair was pulled into a respectably long tail at the nape of his neck, and a neatly trimmed beard of the same dark hair covered the lower half of his face. Morpheus could see a small patch of yet more dark hair peeking out from the low V of the man’s shirt. Earthy eyes sparkled in the patches of sunlight that made their way through the trees, and they were hazily focused on the bulge in the Prince’s trousers. He had clearly been lost in his own thoughts, an apple raised to his lips as if he were about to take a bite. 

Morpheus was still frozen, but for an entirely different reason. For a commoner, this man was exceedingly handsome- had he been born to the nobility, he would have lords and ladies alike falling over themselves to win his favor. 

Hob jumped when his mind registered he was standing before the Prince. For one, he thought that he and some of his friends were the only ones who knew about this little lake in the forest, and, two, holy shit that was Prince Morpheus standing in front of him, barefoot and bare chested, a semi creating a small bulge in the front of his breeches. 

“Oh fuck!” The apple flew out of his hand- he fumbled to catch it, just barely holding on to the fruit as he sank into a low bow, one leg in front of the other, back leg bent, eyes firmly fixed on the ground, arms out to the sides as he had seen the other nobles do. 

Morpheus held up a placating palm as he awkwardly said, “Please rise, there is no need to stand on ceremony,” even though the other couldn’t see the gesture. 

Hob rose out of his bow and placed his hands behind his back so Morpheus wouldn’t see his nervous fidgeting. How was it possible this man was a prince, was incredibly gorgeous, AND had a voice that could lure any sailor to their watery grave? “A-apologies, sir, Highness, I- I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place-” He swallowed hard, trying in vain to control his nervous babble. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I can just-” 

“It’s quite alright.” Morpheus chuckled in spite of himself- it sounded a little strained to his own ears, but maybe that was because the erection that had fled in his momentary fear was starting to make a comeback at the sight of the beautiful man before him. “I wasn’t aware others knew of this spot either.” 

Hob laughed as well, tense and awkward, scratching the back of his head. But oh gods, his smile could light up the darkest of dungeons. Morpheus could feel his heart clench in his chest, already wanting to see that smile again. The Prince asked, “What is your name?”

“Robert,” Hob answered quickly with another little bow. “Robert Gadling. But my friends call me Hob.” He let out a bashfully choked laugh. “I already know who you are, Prince Morpheus. I mean, just about the whole realm knows who you are. Your Highness.” 

Morpheus had taken a breath to respond when there was more rustling in the trees behind Hob, much more than what could be created by a single man or animal. The Prince froze again, lowered into a slight crouch. Hob immediately whirled around and positioned himself protectively between Morpheus and the tree line. His apple lay forgotten on the forest floor as he settled into a ready stance, his hands curled into loose fists, ready to strike or protect his torso. 

Morpheus had always been independent to the point of being described as a loner, therefore the swirling feeling in his gut at the sight of Hob ready to defend him was completely foreign. It curled in his stomach and slithered between his legs, bringing back that inner heat the cold lake water had once absorbed. And if Hob didn’t see him glancing at the curve of his ass every few seconds… Well, that was between Morpheus and the trees. 

The trees and grasses rustled again to reveal two men in dark gray rags, the lower halves of their faces covered with another piece of fabric. Dirt smudged the visible skin around their eyes. They were each carrying a wicked looking dagger, the blades sharp even if the handles were dotted with rust. 

Hob immediately knew these were bandits- highwaymen that lurked in the trees and waited for the opportune moment to pounce. And they had just found quite the prize.

Jessamy snorted and stomped her feet, sensing the imminent danger. The bandits inched closer, step by step, knives held threateningly aloft. Hob glared at them, refusing to back down, hoping they would develop some sense and realize that whatever they had planned was not a good idea. One of them chuckled in eager anticipation.

“Turn around,” Hob ground out softly, eyes darting between the two, “and I won’t have to bash your heads in.” The bandits exchanged a momentary glance, as if debating the merit of Hob’s words. Apparently, they reached the decision that they had none, because they continued to advance, knives gleaming and ready to cut into flesh. 

Morpheus crept back towards the lake, inching toward Jessamy, heart pounding in his throat. He had never encountered bandits before; the closest he had ever come to someone who had broken the law was on formal inspections of rehabilitation facilities where the offenders had been cleaned up and supervised by wardens. Now, he didn’t have wardens or his retinue or even his hunting knife- his only protection from these two bandits was another commoner who could just as easily decide Morpheus was worth the trouble of kidnapping, or killing, or both. 

“Last warning,” Hob growled, the bandits now within striking distance.

The one on the right turned to his companion: “Get him.” 

Hob swore then yelled to Morpheus, “Go! Leave!” as the first bandit came at him with the knife aloft, intending to bring it down into Hob’s shoulder, or wherever he could reach. He sidestepped the blow and redirected the bandit’s momentum so that he went stumbling towards the water. 

The second bandit charged forward, knife point aimed at Hob’s chest. He grabbed the bandit’s wrist with enough force to make him drop the knife and drove his knee into the bandit’s side. The attacker grunted and doubled over, using the forward momentum to drive his shoulder into Hob’s stomach.

It was a lucky shot that knocked the wind out of him. Hob shoved the bandit away from him, hoping to buy a moment to catch his breath. 

The first bandit had recovered his footing and rushed in from behind Hob, wrapping wiry arms around a golden throat. Hob’s eyes went wide as his breath was cut off, the bandit only squeezing harder as he struggled. The two assailants coordinated their next move with eye contact alone, one holding Hob by the throat while the other stepped into striking distance and threw a sloppy but strong punch at Hob’s face.

The bandit’s knuckles hit him square on the cheekbone. Hob cried out as his head snapped to the side. The man’s other fist came up and landed a punch across his mouth, hard enough to make his nose bleed and teeth rattle and split his bottom lip open. 

“Fuck-” The swear was strained and came out with blood and spit. His vision starting to blacken around the edges, Hob reared his arm up and drove his elbow into the soft midsection at his back. Instantly, his windpipe was free as arms released him and the bandit doubled over in pain. Hob took several gasping breaths as he turned to the bandit who had been choking him and drove his fist into his temple, all the force and energy going down, hard enough to knock him out. 

Hob turned his attention to the remaining bandit. The scrawny man was in a ready stance, hands curled into loose fists held up by his face, but clearly hesitant after watching his partner literally get beaten into the ground. Hob grinned, feral and almost cocky as he mimicked the man’s stance- on a closer look, he was barely a man, just an older boy with his first whiskers. Hob didn’t want to hurt the kid, but he may not have a choice.

With unexpected ferocity, the boy lunged closer, fist ready to fly. Hob dodged one punch, then another, the third glancing off his shoulder- poor lad was already panting for breath, sparking just a hint of pity. 

“Come on, lad,” he tried reasoning, “just walk away.”

The young man’s only response was a desperate yell as he charged Hob, going for a grapple. Hob easily deflected him with a step and a twist, sending the bandit falling hard on his back. Hob settled into his stance, and with a well-aimed kick to his temple, he too was dealt with.

Silence suddenly rang in the clearing, broken only by Hob’s slightly panting breaths. His hands were still clenched into ready fists at his sides.

Morpheus had sprinted a quarter of the way around the lake to where he had tethered Jessamy. He had been ready to bolt at Hob’s word, now he soothed the mare with soft words and gentle caresses. It was like he was watching the whole thing through hazy glass, observing and present but removed, just left of in tune with the world. His chest felt tight, his hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to process all that had happened in a few short moments.

Hob moved out of his combative stance to crouch beside one of their would-be assailants. Morpheus quickly retied Jessamy to the branch and walked over to Hob, feeling extremely awkward and somewhat out of his depth. What did one say to the handsome stranger who had undoubtedly saved him from being abducted, if not worse? ‘Thank you’ did not seem to be anywhere near enough, far less than what Hob was owed for his deed. And yet, the words ‘thank you’ seemed to stick in his throat, refusing to come out.

He stood uncomfortably over Hob, who was pawing through the bandits’ clothes, hoping to find some clue as to their motives, and whether they went beyond simple highway robbery. The Prince had taken a fortifying breath to thank his protector when Hob ground out a curse in another language he had learned from a merchant. In his hand was a worn letter, folded and held together with a black seal. A sigil of stars and other symbols of magick was pressed into the wax.

It was, without a doubt, the seal of Roderick Burgess, King of Fawney Rigg.

“You might want to see this, Highness.” Hob rose to his feet and handed Morpheus the letter. His free hand swiped at his split lip and bloody nose- at least it wasn’t broken, again. He could feel the flesh around his cheekbone swelling painfully. Hob caught the Prince’s sympathetic flinch, small as it was, as he took the paper. Icy eyes quickly scanned its contents, dark brows furrowing closer together the more he read.

“I must return to the palace.” The words tumbled out of him as he refolded the letter and stuffed it in the waistband of his breeches. Moving quickly, Morpheus tugged his shirt back over his head and boots onto his feet as he continued, “My father needs to be made aware of what happened. Burgess sending armed men across our border with orders to watch and intercept me is no idle threat.” 

He unhitched Jessamy and used a fallen log as a mounting block, swinging a lithe leg over her back and expertly gathering the reins. He looked down at Hob as he wheeled her around, holding himself with the distant majesty of a monarch despite his disheveled state. Hob could only stare up in awe, a worshiper at the foot of his god. Dappled beams of sunlight illuminated the Prince like a halo, and Hob was sure in that moment the Prince was indeed fae touched as the rumors went, if not outright divine in his own right. 

“I think it is no exaggeration to say you saved my life,” Morpheus proclaimed, even if the forest and the man before him were the only ones to hear the royal edict. “I am in your debt, Robert Gadling. And I will settle that debt once this threat to the Dreaming is resolved.”

Hob bowed at his words, low and slow and reverent. A few globs of blood dribbled out of his nose and onto the grass. As he rose, he said, “Then at least let me escort you out of the forest and to the main road. I doubt there are any more of these men lurking around, Highness, but I would feel better seeing you to safety.” The last part was true, but Hob figured he probably shouldn’t mention the other reason for his offer: Prince Morpheus had utterly enchanted him, and this was likely to be the last time he’d see the man up close, let alone speak to him one to one, and he wasn’t ready for it to be over.

Pale, elegant fingers twitched briefly around the reins as Morpheus considered his words. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right response. Finally, he settled on, “I would be glad of your company. Let us go.” 

He clicked his tongue to get Jessamy moving at a walk, Hob keeping pace beside her. They were silent as they picked their way back to the main forest road, but Hob was on high alert. His eyes darted back and forth, fists clenching and releasing in time with his steps. It was relatively easy to ignore the stickiness of drying blood around his mouth and chin when he was so focused on looking for signs of danger. Thankfully, the trip passed without incident. Morpheus pulled Jessamy to a halt once they were inside the city gates.

“My thanks again, Robert Gadling.” Jessamy pawed at the ground as Morpheus spoke, eager to be back in the safety of her stall. “I do not like leaving my debts unpaid.” The unspoken request for Hob to name his price hung in the air like a phantom. Hob merely gave the Prince a gentle smile and bowed again, still formal but relaxed and easy. 

“This time spent with you is payment enough, Highness.” He paused and bit his lip, plucking up his courage with a slight wince of pain. “May I… Could I call on you? If my day’s work brings me to the palace.” 

Morpheus turned the request over in his mind long enough for Jessamy to grow impatient. He soothed her with a few gentle pats on her neck. “You may,” he finally replied. “As long as my duties permit, I will be glad to receive you.” Morpheus had already turned his horse and urged her into a trot before Hob could say a proper farewell. The gentle goodbye hung unspoken on his lips. Finally, he sighed and kicked a stray pebble as he made his way to the boarding house he called home for a bath and some rest.

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Turning Page - Sam Kiszka

A/N: Thanks a lot @ascendingtostardust , for having the audacity to mention Sam reading his wedding vows. This isn’t super long, but it’s something. Consider it my grand return to writing, I suppose. Wedding vows written by @stardustcatcher

DISCLAIMER: I do not know what everyone’s family situations are and what have you, so I did my best to write this in a way that everyone can relate to.

WARNINGS: None. Lots of cavity inducing fluff.

MASTERLIST

•••

“You’re making me want to throw up,” Ronnie joked, attempting to lighten the heavy mood in the room.

The mood in the room was anything but bad; it was dripping in excitement. So much, in fact, that it was almost overbearing. Add some insane nerves into that? It was intense, to say the least.

A barely audible giggle was all you could offer her, staring at your reflection in the mirror and admiring the work that your makeup artist had done, along with your hair - half of it perfectly pinned up, with a few pieces left down to frame your face.

“Sam is gonna be floored when he sees you,” Ronnie grinned, running a hand over your shoulder lovingly. “Dare I say, he might even cry.”

You both giggle, before three gentle knocks broke the two of you out of the sweet moment.

“Come on in!” you called, turning towards the door.

Karen’s bright smile greeted you before she even spoke a word.

“Can I help you get into your dress, love?” She asked, glancing down at the time on her phone briefly. “I told Jake, Josh and Danny you would be down to do a first look with them soon, like you asked.”

“Thank you.” You gave her a warm smile, swallowing down the lump in your throat as your stood up to get into your dress.

The process of getting your dress on was a tedious one, the corset back proving to be the most time consuming part.

“Okay…” Karen huffed, concentration evident in her voice.

You glanced up and watched her in the mirror, only to be met with her sparkling eyes as she finished the back of your dress.

“How does it feel?” She questioned, eyeing your face carefully. She studied people much like Jake did at times; something you found so incredibly endearing.

“Perfect,” you nodded, looking over yourself in the mirror. “It’s so perfect… It’s-“ you suck in a deep breath, trying to fight back the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh- don’t cry,” Karen begged softly, clearly choking on her own words at the sight of you.

“Yeah, please don’t,” Ronnie added. “I will start sobbing and I’m trying to hold it all in for at least one more hour.”

You all laugh amongst yourselves and share a few careful - but long, hugs.

“Are you ready?” Karen finally asked, taking your hand in her’s.

You nodded, walking with her towards the door that Ronnie was holding open for you.

“Are you sure Sam isn’t gonna try to hide in there with them?”

“No, no,” Karen answered, shaking her head frantically. “Absolutely not. Kelly has him very occupied.”

You sighed for what felt like the thousandth time, nerves unlike any you had ever felt before bubbling up inside you, as you make your way down the hallway to the room that Jake, Danny and Josh were in.

Karen went ahead of you, pulling the door open and peaking only her head in. A few muffled words were exchanged between her and who you guessed to be Danny. You weren’t entirely sure, thanks to all the zoning out your nerves were causing.

“After you,” Karen smiled, opening the door for you to walk through.

You step through the door, choking back a sob as Josh and Danny both gasp audibly. Jake’s jaw falling slack right at the same time.

“Oh… oh, my,” Josh breathed out, completely in awe of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Well, aren’t you just beautiful,” Jake was the next to speak up, voice noticeably strained.

“T-thank you,” you smiled, dropping your eyes to the floor.

When you looked back up, Danny was making his way up to you with watery eyes.

When he made it to you, he opened his arms for you and you happily walked straight into his warm embrace.

“I love you. You look absolutely stunning,” Danny’s voice wavered and a soft sniffle sounded from him. “I’ve been dying for this day since me, You and Sam all became friends. I’m so happy for you, Y/N.”

“Danny, please.” The words almost came out sounding like a whimper, his words threatening to break down the flood gates that you’d spent all day building up. “I love you so much.”

Pulling away, you turned to Jake and Josh and opened your arms up for both of them, pulling them each into a warm hug.

“I am so happy for you and Sammy boy.” Jake squeezed you in his arms. “He’s over the moon. I’ve never seen him so giddy. And he’s always giddy.”

“No kidding,” Josh joined in. “He’s been upstairs bouncing off the god damn walls.”

“Well, it won’t be much longer until he finally gets to see you,” Karen cut in, coming up behind the four of you. “You guys better get going; only half an hour until the ceremony starts.”

Jake, Josh and Danny parted ways, heading back upstairs to see Sam one more time, then head outside where everything was set up.

*

You clutched the gorgeous bouquet in your hands for dear life - hoping it would somehow keep you tethered to earth.

So many thoughts were rushing through your mind, bouncing from one side of your skull to the other and echoing around.

No, you weren’t getting cold feet; it was more like… fears of tripping and falling, stuttering over your vows, mascara running down your cheeks from the tears that were inevitably going to be shed within mere minutes.

A short instrumental piece that Jake had written and recorded on his acoustic just for the wedding, filled your ears, warming your body with an overwhelming sense of joy.

Danny and your best friend -as maid of honor and best man- were the first two to make their way down the aisle, disappearing out of your vision just as they were about to reach the end and place themselves on either side of Sam.

Josh and Ronnie followed, arm in arm, following the exact same path.

Jake and your other best friend made their way down together.

Momentarily, you thought about how well they had been getting along since the night of your first little wedding rehearsal.

‘They would be cute…’ you thought to yourself.

Finally, your ring bearer and flower girls made their way haphazardly down the aisle. A sweet sight for everyone to witness.

Suddenly, you’re being pulled from your daze as the very familiar notes of a piano fill your ears.

After not much discussion, Sam agreed to Turning Page, stating: “I want you to walk down the aisle to whatever song makes you happy.”

And that was that.

You took each step carefully, turning the corner and bringing yourself into view of your friends and family - all standing and anticipating your entrance.

But most importantly, Samuel Francis Kiszka.

Everyone else faded into the background, your vision focused solely on Sam and no one else. He was like a magnet pulling you towards him.

Your eyes scanned his body from his feet up, his tan suit fitting him flawlessly and sitting perfectly against his sunkissed skin.

The second your eyes landed on his face, you were getting close enough to see the tears that had spilled out from his eyes and the dam finally broke.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, holding in the sob threatening to tear through your throat as best you could.

A couple of tears escaped as you reached Sam, who’s hand was shakily outstretched for you to take.

“My beautiful girl,” he cooed so quietly you barely heard it, reaching up to skillfully dab your tears away.

You took his hand and let him guide you underneath the arbor of flowers and greenery, until you were standing straight across from each other.

Sam squeezed each other your hands comfortingly, tears still visible in his eyes as his smile beamed at you.

All your nerves and fears seemed to melt away in that moment.

“Good evening, everyone!” Your officiant captured the attention of your ears, but your eyes stayed fixed of Sam - as did his.

“From this gorgeous little place, we take ourselves out of the usual routines of our daily living to witness a very special moment in the lives of Y/N  and Sam. Today they join their lives in the union of marriage.”

Somehow, your smiles widened.

“To all their guests, they are happy to share this moment with you. They have known most of you for many years. You watched them grow up, you went to school with them, or you worked with them. Because you are the ones who have supported them throughout their lives and know them so well, it is only fitting that you are the ones to share this remarkable moment with them.”

The officiant continued on, some of what he said being completely lost on you - and Sam, too, you assumed.

Only for what felt like a moment did the two of you get lost in your own world, though, before the officiant grabbed your attention.

“We come now to the words Y/N and Sam want to hear the most today…the words that take them across the threshold from being engaged to being married.”

Your heart pounded away in your chest. You swear you can feel Sam’s pounding heartbeat through his fingertips, but it was arguably just your own.

“A marriage, as most of us understand it, is a voluntary and full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of all others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I would like to hear you both confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today.”

Turning to Sam first, he was finally forced to tear his eyes away from you.

“Sam, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Y/N in marriage? If so, please answer “I do.””

You watched Sam’s adams apple move, and heard his shaky and strained voice.

Sam returned his eyes to you, flashing you that signature smile of his. “I do.”

“Y/N,”

It was your turn to force your eyes away from Sam.

“Do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Sam in marriage? If so, please answer “I do.””

“I do,” you answered, voice much louder and stronger than you’d expected it to be.

“Sam and Y/N, having heard that it is your intention to be married to each other, I now ask you to declare your marriage vows.”

The officiant turned towards you, nodding their head and giving you the go ahead.

“Sammy, I love you with every fiber of my being…with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait to experience the rest of my life with you right beside me.” You take a deep breath, attempting to keep your composure.

“I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a- shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bear on your own.”

More tears filled your eyes as you finished the last of your vows., “You make me laugh, you make me think and above all, you make me happy. I vow to love you and cherish you, forever and always,” you finished, grasping at Sam’s hands tightly.

The look in Sam’s eyes was indescribable. He looked at you in a way that no romance novel or movie could never describe or replicate.

The officiant turned towards Sam, granting him the go ahead to move forward into his own vows.

Sam cleared his throat and glanced down at your joined hands for a split second.

“Before you, there were times where living felt like a curse. Only an idea of what could be, what possibilities could lie ahead of me. Then, You came. You walked into my life like a ray of light and joy. You came in and took the curse away. You showed me that humanity was not only ripe with hate and rivalry, but also friendship and unconditional love.” Sam took a step closer to you, staring so deeply into your eyes, you were almost scared he was melting holes through you.

“The holding of hands, a gentle touch, and a kiss on the cheek… Y/N, you are my world. you are my sky, my sand, my ocean…the very earth beneath my feet. To be touched by you is like being touched by god, to dance among the stars and heavens above. I promise to love you and walk with you through every adventure imaginable, for the rest of my life.”

Should you need to speak again with your own words, you wouldn’t be able to. Sam, as he so often did, had left you completely speechless.

Just out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake guiding your little ring bearer up to the officiant, who carefully took the rings with a warm smile.

“Your wedding ring is the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites your two hearts in love,” the officiant said, passing Sam the ring for you first. “Sam, place this ring on Y/N’s finger and repeat after me…”

Sam took your left hand and cradled it in his, already lining up the ring with your finger eagerly. He gave the officiant a quick nod.

“I give you this ring...”

Sam quickly repeated, “I give you this ring,”

“Wear it with love and joy...”

“Wear it with love and joy,”

“As this ring has no end…”

“As this ring has no end,”

“My love is also forever…”

Sam’s face turned serious, intense passion pouring off of him in that moment that you couldn’t describe if you had tried.

“My love is also forever.”

Without missing a beat, Sam slid the ring down onto your finger, his touch lingering for a moment.

After a moment, Sam pulled away and offered his left hand to you. Then, you turned to listen to the officiant.

“Y/N, place this ring on Sam’s finger and repeat after me…”

You nodded, eyes drifting right back to Sam.

“I give you this ring…”

“I give you this ring,” you repeated.

“Wear it with love and joy…”

“Wear it with love and joy,”

“As this ring has no end…”

“As this ring has no end,”

“My love is also forever…”

“My love is also forever.” You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and pushed the ring onto Sam’s finger, just like he had done.

“May the wedding rings you exchanged today remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love.” The officiant flashed you both a wide smile. “Everyone has advice for newlyweds.  Sam and Y/N, I offer these good wishes to you on this special day…”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you neared the end of the ceremony. Every part of your body was screaming with joy and excitement, dying to embrace Sam in a hug, a sweet kiss to seal the moment.

You almost swear you can see him visibly bouncing on his toes, unable to contain his own excitement.

“May your life together be blessed with prosperity and good health.  May you always share open and honest communication between each other.  May you respect each other’s individual talents and gifts, and give full support to each other’s professional and personal pursuits.

May you cherish the home and family you will create together.  May all the years to come be filled with moments to celebrate and renew your love.  May your love be a life-long source of excitement, contentment, affection, respect, and devotion for one another.”

Sam used his grip on your hands to tug you closer, a goofy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth that you had longed to kiss all day.

“And so, now, by the power vested in me , it is my absolute honor and delight to declare you husband and wife.” the officiant paused, glancing between the two of you.

“You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Gasping at the force of which Sam pulled you into him, your lips molded together with his so perfectly. Everything stopped in that moment.

There was no one else. Just you, and Sam. Finally the one you could call your husband.

Faintly, you could hear the final words of your ceremony and the loud cheers from all your friends and family that surrounded you.

“I am very pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Francis Kiszka!”

Throwing your joined hands up in the air, Sam’s smile could have set anything within view of it ablaze - as could yours.

The two of you took off down the aisle, together this time.

But instead of going back inside the small house, Sam guided you towards the back porch.

“Sammy, what are you doing?” You giggled, not really caring in the slightest where he was leading you.

He stopped just at the bottom of the stairs, hands finding your waist. “Just wanted to have you all to myself for a minute,” he sighed. “Haven’t seen you in a million damn years.”

“I missed you all day, too.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “It was torture.”

He pulled back slightly, eyes raking over your face. “You. Are so. Beautiful,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “My gorgeous girl.”

A deep blush immediately began to form over your cheeks. “Sammy.”

“What?” His tone was playful, eyebrows raised at you. “Why are you blushing? Should I stop flirting? Save it for later tonight…?”

The meaning behind his words and the sly smirk on his face only made your blush darken.

“Later, huh?” You inquired, trying to act cool.

“Yes, later-“ Without any warning, Sam bent down and scooped you up in his arms, laughing at the squeal that erupted from you. “-If that’s alright with you, Mrs. Kiszka?”

“Who said it had to be later?” you purred, hand coming up to rest on the side of his neck.

“Don’t tease me, doll,” Sam warned. “We have a reception to attend and besides, I think I’d rather make you wait and suffer for a few more hours.”

“You’re awful.” You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile.

“Whatever you say, wifey.” Sam teased, watching the path ahead as he carried you towards the tent where your reception was being held.

You crack up into a fit of laughter. “Don’t ever say, ‘wifey’ again.”

@sammysprincess @shutupdevvie @jordie-gvf @ascendingtostardust @stardustcatcher @streamsofstardust @sarakay-gvf @belovedsamuel @gardensgatedaisy @ageofbarbarians @theweightofjake @jake-kiszkas-smirk @positivegvfthings @gretasmokerising @doodle417 @gretavanfanfics @greta-van-chaos @colorstreammind @ofburningskies @of-infinite-wonders @groovyvanfleet @joshsindigostreak @gvfpal @writingcold @cal-a-bungaa

@gretavanbitches

@juliensbakery

@gretavanfreaky

@vanfleeter

@stillstreetjoshua

@twistedmelodies

@jakes-eyebrows

[sir-walton-goggins]

The Golden Prison

2,885 words

Arthur Morgan x fem OC

Summary: Arthur and Kris are invited to the party at the Mayor's house, where she finds some interesting secrets about Bronte and his entourage...

Warnings: strong language

The smell of raw vegetables and the vapor from the boiling water prickled at Kris’s nose, her eyes burning and watering as she split another large onion in half. She wiped her eye on her sleeve and kept chopping diligently, turning it horizontally and dicing it into tiny cubes for Pearson’s stew.

She was so absorbed in her kitchen duties, she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps parting the grass behind her and jumped out of her skin as two large hands cupped her waist.

“A-Arthur!” she protested, turning around to see her husband’s usual self-satisfied grin.

He chuckled softly. “A bit jumpy today, are we?” he buried his face in the crook of his wife’s neck and planted a few soft kisses on her naked skin. It was so hot and humid in the swamps, Kris had taken to wearing just her night chemise and a pair of roughed-up jeans around camp, leaving most of her neck and shoulders exposed to the open air. Arthur was as drawn to them as a mosquito to its next, bloody meal, biting the soft flesh gently.

The outlaw awkwardly stepped away from her as he noticed Pearson poking out of the corner, a savvy smile under his long mustache. Arthur blushed and turned his head away, fidgeting with his gun belt.

“Ah, love” the cook sighed dreamily, taking Kris’s cutting board from under her hands and walking to the boiling pot. “You’re free to go, miss. Thanks for the help.” He winked at her, making her smile.

She took her embarrassed husband’s hand, guiding him under the porch of the large plantation house that shielded them from the cruel rays of the midday sun.

“Where were you yesterday? You came in pretty late,” Kris inquired, vaguely remembering Arthur slipping in bed with her as she was deep into her sleep, his reassuring embrace enveloping her as he spooned her, smelling of grass and wet dirt.

Arthur leaned on the outer wall. “I was helping this creepy feller in town build his strange machine” he recounted, mildly amused. Kris exhaled. Somehow this wasn’t the weirdest sentence out of her partner’s mouth. He was always meeting the weirdest people on his journeys.

“What kind of machine?” she wondered, curious to hear yet another one of Arthur’s wacky stories.

“I dunno, some kind of electric… thing” he shook his head. “It apparently requires a whole lot of moonshine” he told Kris about the coach he stole and drove back into Saint Denis to this peculiar inventor.

She didn’t even have the time to process the information, when Dutch marched out of the front door with the most annoying pep in his step. That was always a tell-tale sign there was a scheme afoot.

“Arthur!” he exclaimed theatrically, decisively ignoring Kris. Morgan sighed, already foreseeing the next tedious task he was gonna assign him. Hosea walked over to them, holding the newspaper.

“Folks, ready to mingle with high society?” the older man asked with a malicious smile. Kris and Arthur felt the blood drain from their veins.

“So we’re really doing this?” Arthur asked dejectedly.

“Of course we are!” Dutch ordered, adjusting the collar of his coat as to mimic a rich, wide-bellied oil magnate. “Bronte so kindly invited us, we can’t be impolite guests in his town!” the man highlighted the word “his” with the most contemptuous emphasis, dripping sarcasm from every pore.

“Right, this is a perfect opportunity for us” Hosea echoed, putting a hand on Kris’s shoulder. “You coming with us?

Kris glanced at Arthur to gauge his stance. Usually, he was never too happy to have her out on dangerous missions, but this one seemed tranquil enough. Her husband nodded slightly, a thinly veiled melancholy in his gaze revealing he’d rather do anything than to participate in the Mayor’s party.

“Yeah, why not” Kris locked in her final answer, prompting the two gang leaders to walk to the stagecoach.

“Let’s get you both into your gowns then, Cinderellas!” Dutch laughed, gesturing towards Lenny, who jumped up and on the driving seat of the vehicle. Arthur sighed loudly as he followed along.

Hours later they were bathed, perfumed and dressed to the nines, making their grand entrance at the Mayor’s garden ball. Kris waved at Lenny, who tipped his hat to her. She was already bothered by the many layers of her blue dress, rustling and crinkling loudly in her ears and largely limiting her movements to the point she almost face planted on the cobbled road getting out of the ride. She felt like a stuffed doll.

“Hey, I know you’re miserable” Arthur whispered in her ear, “but you look beautiful tonight”.

Kris smiled. She examined his suit, which was tailor-made just for the occasion and fit him perfectly. “You too. You clean up well, Morgan” she murmured in his direction. Arthur bowed his head, a coy smile on his lips. Kris walked towards him and straightened his tilted bow tie, stealing a quick kiss.

“Hey, lovebirds” Bill’s mocking tone put a huge damper on their mood, “get your asses over here”.

They scrambled to reach the others to the front entrance, where a man named Luca asked them to deposit their weapons. One after the other, the men handed in their guns, while Kris stared at the servant seraphically, envisioning the backup knife safely tucked in her garter, underneath her dress. When she had shown it to Arthur, he had almost passed out from sheer arousal. She felt safer with it.

Once inside the house, they all revised their plan for the night: no stealing nor scheming, just keeping their eyes peeled for new contacts and job opportunities.

The crowd spread out in front of them like a baroque bouquet of expensive, exotic flowers: the women’s elegant gowns sparkled under the fairy lights, bright and colorful and evenly distributed as the dames quietly chatted next to their male companions.

“Lots of chickens to pluck here,” Kris remarked, already overwhelmed. Her ears filled up with classical music as they walked around the musicians playing in the small gazebo, plucking at the cords of their instruments masterfully. Noticing her stress signals, Arthur offered Kris his arm, reminding her he was there for her. She took it and stroked his forearm, grateful, grounding herself in her husband’s warmth and by feeling the fabric of his suit under her fingertips. It was soft and velvety to the touch.

She hated crowds. And gatherings. But she loved her husband more. Besides, the crook was a fellow expatriate from the Mediterranean, so her knowledge of Italian might’ve come in handy.

A butler guided the group to meet Bronte upstairs. The married couple looked around the place in total awe: everywhere there were lush plants from all over the globe, with big, weird shaped flowers and stems, electrical lighting powering the wall sconces, interiors enriched with exquisite decor, arches, paintings and winding corridors all over. That mansion could fit a whole small town in it, with its absurdly tall ceilings and field-wide halls. A faint smell of greenery and perfume lingered in the seemingly empty stairway.

“There they are, the angry cowboys!” the Italian greeted the small group, gesturing at them enthusiastically. Kris cringed internally, her stomach tightening in front of his serpentine smile. He immediately turned to his henchmen and made a demeaning comment on them in Italian, giving Kris the feeling she did good to come along.

The men all shook Bronte’s hand. When it was her turn, Bronte bowed slightly and kissed the back of her hand, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

Kris did her best to appear flattered, but inside she was screaming her head off at the unpleasantness of that snake’s wet lips on her skin. Arthur stood behind her, clenching his fists and biting his lip so hard it almost started bleeding.

The men were each handed a fine cigar, and one of Angelo’s goons offered her one of his premiums cigarettes, which she promptly accepted, desperately needing something to take the edge off. She slipped the cig between her lips, waiting for the feller to light it up in complete silence. The last thing she wanted was to blow her cover by exposing her very Italian accent.

Kris stood in the back side of the balcony, smoking and paying close attention to how Bronte addressed her partners in crime. While the men were talking business, she kept tally of every micro expression, look, gesture and movement that could give her a hint about Bronte’s real intentions. She believed he gave up Jack way too easily and welcomed a gang of country outlaws with a bit more warmth than you would expect from a local boss. The whole affair seemed suspicious.

Kris listened to him insulting the rest of the guests, loudly wishing they would die as he spoke freely and confident that nobody else would understand him, except for his lackeys, who roared in laughter at his every provocation. But when he turned his thinly veiled insults to Dutch, Arthur, Hosea and Bill, every muscle in Kris’s body tensed up, the effort to resist clapping back unbearable. Who the fuck did he think he was?! A goddamned reptile in an Italian suit, that’s what he was.

“So, what was your plan here?” Bronte asked them, a dark cloud falling over his features. Every trace of irony had been wiped from his face. The sudden shift in tone made even the silver-tongued Van Der Linde hesitate.

‘He’s showing his true colors’ Kris noted, witnessing her enemy’s mask slip off momentarily as a cold chill climbed up her spine, making her tremble. Angelo Bronte was a scary man.

Dutch confessed they needed more money. Bronte magnanimously pointed them towards the trolley station, which he said stored ‘tons of money, just what you need’. Kris didn’t like the way a couple of his lapdogs snickered between themselves.

Completely absorbed in their conversation, Kris didn’t notice her cigarette burning out. She winced in pain as it stung her fingers, emitting a hissing sound which made a couple of heads turn towards her. She threw the cigarette butt to the side and acted innocently. Arthur approached her, gently guiding her inside with a hand on the small of her back as the rest of the gang followed. Mocking comments in Italian erupted from the balcony.

“Okay people, time for the mingling” Dutch whispered, giving directions and specific tasks to each and everyone of them, except for Kris. She scoffed as he ignored her for the second time that day, and begrudgingly proposed to guard the second floor and spy on Bronte and his men.

“Sure, it’ll be good to keep an eye on them” he remarked, uninterested, as Arthur brushed his lips on her cheek, telling her to be careful.

“Always” Kris reassured her beau, making her way upstairs as silently as she could with those pesky heels on, while the men scattered and blended into the crowd, each with his own fake name (Albert Danielson? Really, Bill?) and task (Arthur went to chat with Henri Lemieux).

By some divine luck, the second floor hall was still unguarded. Kris shuffled next to the glass door, her back to the wall, peeking outside carefully. Loud screaming and coarse laughter dampened by the reinforced glass: they were still out there.

“Ma li avete visti, quei quattro buffoni!1” a tall, dark skinned man readjusted the many rings on his fingers, all of them made of gold and gemstones. “Quegli zotici non riconoscerebbero le buone maniere se li colpissero in faccia2” followed another one, a bald man as pale as sheet of paper.

‘I’m lucky Italians are so damn loud, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to hear anything through this glass’ Kris remarked, grateful that her evening was going according to plan.

“Bella trovata boss, quella di mandarli alla stazione del tram!3” one of Bronte’s personal guards sneered, patting him on the back. Kris’s heart skipped a beat and she froze against the wall.

Bronte shook his head, waving the comment off. “Ah, non ci vuole nulla con questi idioti. Ho preso in giro uomini ben più pericolosi…4 ” he snobbishly sipped his glass of red wine, unperturbed. He gestured for one of his lackeys to come closer and murmured something Kris couldn’t quite catch. She just about managed to make out “police” and “station”, but that was enough.

She needed to go downstairs. Now. Unfortunately, two sets of footsteps approached the glass door very fast and the staircase was way too far to make it.

‘Oh god, what do I do?’

The men entered the hall before she could finish the thought, footsteps booming in Kris’s ears to match her speeding heartbeat, a torturous cacophony of beating drums. She prayed to every god on earth that the curtain was covering her gown, or that they wouldn’t glance at it.

She peeked through the heavy, red fabric and when she saw the back of Bronte and his guard’s heads disappearing down the staircase, Kris exhaled in relief.

‘That was too damn close’ she reprimanded herself, trying to calm down. But it wasn’t over.

“Quella ragazza con loro… che ne pensate?5”

“Sembrava familiare, aveva tratti mediterranei...6”

Every muscle chained her into place and panic started seeping back into her soul.

Sounds of glasses clinking. Matches striking, cigars sizzling.

“Come mi piacerebbe farmela…7” said one of them who hadn’t spoken before, voice so putridly filled with lust it made Kris recoil in disgust. The remark was followed by a heap of obscene laughter.

“No davvero, secondo voi è italiana?8” asked baldy. A general buzz took ahold of the group.

“Diciamo a Bronte di rapirla? Potrebbe farci comodo una donna nella famiglia.9”

Horrified, Kris stumbled towards the stairs, tripping over her dress, losing her balance on the heels and almost falling over. God, why couldn’t she had worn a suit?

By some devilish misfortune, a guard was happening to come upstairs just as Kris was coming down, and he caught her right at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” the guard inquired, suspicious.

“I-I…” she stuttered, desperately thinking of a plan. She then loosened her legs and brought a hand to her forehead. “I’m not feeling well…” she mustered the weakest, girliest pitch of voice she could, and fell straight into the confused guard’s arms, pretending to faint.

The man called the servants, shouting for them to bring smelling salts and water as Kris bounced limply in his arms. She really hoped the gown hadn’t lifted to reveal her stashed knife, but her heart was completely stable, her pulse weak as a testament to what a good actress she was.

They laid her down on a sofa, putting a few cushions under her legs and the salts underneath her nose. She slowly opened her eyes, feigning disorientation.

“Oh, where am I?” she whined, touching her forehead.

“How are you feeling, ma’am?” the young girl servant asked her, scared beyond her mind and almost shaking. She must’ve been new there.

Kris slowly rose up, sitting on the fancy velvet couch, blinking lazily. “A bit better I think, thank you.”

“Marco went to fetch you some water, please stay seated, ma’am” she replied weakly, taking the pillows and scrambling back to the chambers.

As she waited for this Marco, the words she last heard the Bronte boys say made her head spin so violently, she thought she might faint for real this time. She had to warn Dutch and Arthur she could be in danger, and the gang was too. They had to act fast and, luckily, because of her, they now had the advantage.

“Here you go, ma’am” the guard handed her a glass of water. She thanked him warmly, and then threw the liquid behind the couch when he wasn’t looking. She wasn’t as stupid as to risk being drugged after what she had heard. Assuring Marco she was fine now, she marched outside searching for her companions.

She found them at the buffet table, quietly chatting about what they found. Arthur lit up when he saw her. Kris could see the worry in his eyes gradually dissipate as she came closer.

“Kris! We was about to start looking for you…” he hugged his wife tight, a weight lifted off his chest.

“You look so pale” he noticed, cupping her cheek and examining her from head to toe.

“I’m fine, Arthur” Kris brushed him off, still rattled by the last events. She turned towards Dutch:

“We need to talk.”

Dutch caught wind of the gravity in the young woman’s voice and nodded severely.

“We’re leaving, we’ll talk on the ride home.”

Notes (translation)

1 Get a load of those four buffoons!

2 Those oafs wouldn’t know good manners if they slapped them in the face.

3 Great idea boss, to send them over to the trolley station!

4 Ah, it’s too easy with these fools. I tricked much more dangerous men…

5 That girl with them… what do you think?

6 She looked familiar, she had Mediterranean traits…

7 How I would love to fuck her…

8 No really, do you think she’s Italian?

9 Should we ask Bronte to kidnap her? It could be useful to have a woman in our family.

[somerandomgaydipstick]

A List of Gripes, Misgivings, Nitpicks, and Other Criticisms of the Wilds Beta

With the beta winding down, we should all take the time to really reflect on how much we enjoyed it. Well, of course we enjoyed it. This is Monster Hunter we're talking. But the beta was, well, a beta test. Capcom dropped it to us specifically to test out Wilds, and generate feedback. This is exactly what I have today to, if they somehow see this; feedback. This is a list of gripes, nitpicks, and small misgivings about MH Wilds I have developed from my time with the beta. I would also like to hear the thought of the community at large and how they compare to my own. I played about 20 hours of it from Tuesday until Sunday, but didn't quite get to trying out all of the weapons. I do, however, have notes on most of them. While I adored the beta and am just as hype for Wilds as the next guy, the whole point of a beta is still to generate constructive community feedback. To that end, here's what I have to say:

System:

Right off the bat, sure I'm on PS5, but this game *really* needs better PC optimization. As funny as looking like a PS1 game for some people was, that simply should not be happening to so many people who have purchased a new GPU anytime in the past couple of years.

Can there please be an option to play offline even if your system is online? Thank you very much. 100 player lobbies are cool and all, but if I wanted to play a game with MMO elements like that I would play an actual MMO. It was my biggest gripe with World for most of its lifespan, and I can't help but think it's only gonna get worse with Wilds.

Environment:

I get if it was done the way it was for the sake of demonstration, but the weather shouldn't change nearly as fast as it did in the beta. It coming and going so often made it feel a lot less significant.

Gathering was for the most part cool, but had some really tedious aspects. I like the idea using the grappling hook for it, but I think that putting loot away takes way too long. Also why does zooming in automatically take the Seikret out of sprint? Can I please sprint while focusing aback the birb?

Speaking of items, the item box menu was awful. Why are all the useful functions in their own dinky little menu? Literally just give me Rise item box, or at least add a 1-button shortcut to the loadout and select stack menus.

I also think the equipment menu could be a little better. I think there should be some button that specifically goes to the loadouts menu and one that goes to the armor-by-set menu.

Fishing was way too slow. I know the whole point of fishing is patience, but I shouldn't have to wait two minutes just to catch a single Sushifish. The full game will probably have consumable baits to remedy this, but nonetheless fishing as it stood was truly agonizing.

I wish we knew about how cooking ingredients work. How do we replenish them in the full game? Do we just buy them from that little grocery stand in base camp? Do we earn them for doing optional requests? What's the deal there? Dumping a bunch of them onto us was probably the way to go for the beta, but I'm gonna be hungry for answers until the full release drops.

The pop-up camp system is really cool, I just think it needs some fine tuning. I think that monsters ought to be a little less inclined to attack "Dangerous" camps than they were in the beta, and a little more inclined to attack "Unsafe" camps.

Monsters:

Chatacabra's damage was undertuned. I know it's basically this game's drome, but I'm pretty sure Great Izuchi dealt more damage in the Rise demo than Chatacabra ever did. It only barely felt like a threat in that first quest, and that was mostly because we didn't get to eat beforehand.

Doshaguma's damage, however, was overtuned. Alpha Dosha managed to cart me more times on average than Rey Dau. If Doshaguma is sort of supposed to be the Anjanath to Rey Dau's Rathalos, that just should not be the case. Also, I think it was way too aggressive in its last phase. Felt worse than a 4th gen Furious Rajang in that regard.

Balahara was a weird mix of attacks that did way too much damage and did too little. Generally, the mud attacks were a little too strong, and the biting attacks were a too weak, but that might just be a matter of personal taste. Shouldn't the attacks by its mouth, which is a perma-wound when open, be really dangerous to present some sort of risk-reward?

The fight itself was extremely well tuned--overall the best in the beta--but I wish Rey Dau would actually use area 5 more often. I only ever saw it go up there a couple of times. Maybe make it go up there instead of 9 and 10 during the Plenty?

Weapons:

Focus mode is really cool, but trying to move independently from the camera and hold an attack at the same time is really awkward. Maybe add an option to bind Focus Mode to L3 on controllers?

Greatsword doesn't feel nearly as meaty as I wish it would. Also, what why does Hammer have something with a higher MV than TCS? It's a really cool attack, don't get me wrong, but I just find the idea of TCS being dethroned in that regard irksome. Other than that, both were great. I mained Hammer in World and Greatsword in GU, and they're both probably gonna be up there in Wilds.

Gunlance felt strong. Like it did a wee bit too much damage for once. Maybe slightly reduce the shell damage. That being said, please for the love of god don't touch shell scaling now that, after 5 whole generations, it is finally fixed. Maybe they could, however, remove the wee bit of intrinsic fire from them and change that out for whatever element the Gunlance itself has? Pretty please?

Nothing but praises to sing for Longsword, Lance, and Charge Blade. They knocked it out of the park with these. Maybe a little too much with Longsword in particular.

Also no real notes on the Sword & Shield, Dual Blades, Hunting Horn, or Insect Glaive. I'm not super familiar with these weapons to begin with.

I have no notes whatsoever on any of the ranged weapons. Didn't get around to playing them myself and have never really liked them to begin with. Bow looks cool though.

That leaves Switch Axe. Poor, poor, Switch Axe. The focus attacks are cool. The counter in Sword Mode and the Offset in Axe Mode are cool. Unbridled and Full Release Slash are cool. But why does sword gauge not recharge passively? Why do sword attacks consume so much gauge? Why revert the change from Rise and not let axe mode get phial bursts when amped? Why does Axe Mode feel more like a chore than anything else? Why does the amped state last for so little time? Also why does hitting circle after that one axe combo morph you into sword? Why is morph slash not always an option? Why does trying to input Wild Swing while moving forward do that fuckass running attack? They had a great thing going in Rise, and IMO kinda dumpstered Switch Axe in Wilds from what we've seen.

TL:DR; I hope Capcom does some fine tuning here and there, fixes up the tent menus, makes fishing bearable, and for the love of Gog fixes Switch Axe for Wilds's full release in February. This game is already looking like one of the best 2025 releases, and if they can just tune it a little bit, it might become my single favorite video game ever.

[bonefall]

LAMB STEW & BUTTERNUT SOUP RECIPES. GIVE

THE LAMB STEW RECIPE IS MINE. MINE ALL MINE

BUt I will actually teach you the butternut soup one, people don't realize how cheap butternuts are and how easy this recipe is. I had to teach my partner's family how to properly prepare butternut and they thanked me for it because it's ALWAYS on sale and SUPER easy to make.

You need a metal baking tray, a crockpot, and a blender. The blender is optional, but it makes the perfect creamy consistency

Other ingredients you're gonna need; Garlic, shallots, pepper, turmeric, curry and chicken stock

(though I remembered the recipe wrong when I was over there and used beef stock, fam still loved it though, soooo pick whatever stock you like best tbh. This is a super forgiving recipe, I promise if you're a beginner cook this is a great place to start)

ALSO FAIR WARNING: Idk how to measure anything. I do not actually have a written recipe.

Step 1: Cut the Nut

Cut it longways, like a canoe, and scoop the seeds out. Coat the fleshy-side with cooking oil and sprinkle some pepper on it if you like-- nothing needs to be done to the skin-side. Place it FLESH-DOWN on the baking tray and pop it in the oven, 425 degrees Fahrenheit, 40 - 50 mins

When it's done it looks like this (half-eaten babybel snack optional. bbq sauce not used, it was just there for emotional support)

You can actually eat it just like this.

Like if you're not looking to make soup, this compote can actually be made into all sorts of things. You can stick a spoon right in that and eat it. I've made like... fried butternut latke-things out of it, I have some compote in my freezer just for experimenting with.

If you're smart, you wait for it to cool down before you scoop the flesh out with a spoon. Im not 💗

Step 2: trust your heart to tell you how many fucking onions are in there

My partner is the one who's able to measure things, I simply put my faith in the claws of Velociraptor Jesus tell me what the ratio of garlic to butternut is. I am not allowed near baked goods. I do not cook by the book. I put too many ashes in my middle school volcano project and smoked out an entire classroom once.

This came out great though, and for it I used 2 white onions (about a cup), 4 cloves garlic, and some chopped shallots. All minced as much as possible.

Once that was all in I (think you're gonna see a theme here) kinda just eyeballed how much stock and spice was gonna go in, just doing taste tests until it was yummy... I think it was 2 cups stock water and 3-ish tablespoons of turmeric and curry? Next time I make it'll actually measure how much I use.

I really do just kinda taste-test things until it's good.

I would apologize that I don't have the family recipe actually written down for exact amounts but I don't think I will ✨Bless this mess ✨✨✨✨Welcome to living inside of my head✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Anyway through some magic later you get a mash that looks like this, I stirred it up real good.

Step 3: This is where the blender comes in

This is the most tedious part tbh, but it's worth it because you can't get it super creamy if you don't feed it through a blender.

At this point me and my partner grabbed the pot and poured it in because we had 4 hands between us and felt lazy, but if you're alone you should scoop it manually so you don't spill shit everywhere

And once you have that, portion out what you'd like, and add milk. When you first get the soup out of the blender, it's real thick. You add milk to get it to the consistency you want-- DO NOT ADD MILK TO THE WHOLE THING AT ONCE

IF YOU ADD MILK TO THE WHOLE THING AT ONCE, IT GOES BAD FASTER

This stuff can be frozen or fridged and it tastes just as good as it was when fresh, as long as you only add fresh milk when you're ready to eat it.

I usually eat it with a grilled cheese or some other kinda bread. And that's really it.

[marrowhyena]

Anonymous Coward asked: Have you made any playthroughs with 100% achievemets? I have watched only few of your series but in those you only completed the main story leaving much of the side quests unfinished. Would perfecting the game be too time consuming or grindy for your channel since you seem to explore many games in rather fast pace rather than consentrate on only few games?

I used to be an achievement hunter before I started doing LPs, and let me tell you, achievement lists are bad. There are so many awful achievements that will ruin your fun if you play with them in mind, or they'll require you to do several entire playthroughs and challenge runs at times.

Not to mention that people generally watch LPs to see reactions, so if you're researching and pre-spoiling the game so that you can plan your achievement route, you're ruining that as well.

Generally speaking, perfectly 100%ing games is a tedious process that's made even more tedious when trying to make content out of it. Certain quests or activities just look miserable to do and it's best to just opt out.

Secret hunting is functionally unfilmable because you don't want to clog up your playthrough with eight hours of unedited footage of you wandering around looking for The Thing with nothing of note happening in the process. So you're gonna edit it down, RIGHT? But then you're just left with footage of "I'm gonna look for the thing [cut] I found it." What does the audience get out of the experience really? The chance to say "I guess he found it. I guess he did technically 100% the game, what a journey."

The Yakuza series is one of the most brutal examples for completionists because I'll spent 50 hours playing the entire main story and every side story in most of them, but then there's the pocket racing campaign, the bowling campaign, the batting cage campaign, the cabaret club, the hunting campaign, the fishing campaign, and don't forget to finish the entire menu of every restaurant and unlock the entire skill tree-

It's just not worth it. It's how you make bad videos, as you get increasingly bored with the game, forced to now play all of the parts that you'd been previously eating around because they seemed like a pain in the ass. And every time you make a playthrough longer, there's opportunity cost. That's days of the schedule that could be going to a new game instead of trying to wring the juices out of this already long playthrough that your own audience already stopped watching.

But the funny thing about this question is that I'm usually seen as the completionist guy. So many people just rush the main story as fast as possible to get to the next game, whereas I spend mountains of time in every playthrough doing side content. I'm the guy who specifically takes his time and often takes 50% longer to beat a game than HowLongToBeat suggests.

But true completionism? Shit's folly.

If anything, I sometimes 100% a game after the series is over, off camera, with the game muted and podcasts or video essays playing in the background. That's what I did for Ghost of Tsushima and Death Stranding. I plat'd them both. But that wasn't exciting or interesting gameplay, it was life-filler. It was downtime busywork, unfit for a show. Me grinding through it while half paying attention was the intended experience, and I should never make videos about those parts of games.

[Smile or comment on the answer here](https://retrospring.net/@Boring_Keith/a/112661525969055712)