Anybody Else Worrying Their Ass Off For The Presale Tomorrow?

anybody else worrying their ass off for the presale tomorrow?

Random crackhead thought: Cochise County Cowboys meet modern woman living in the 21st century and lose their fucking marbles

Just sos you knows, AO3 is down under a DDOS attack right now. They’ve been coming back in little blips and then disappearing again. It’s been several hours. (For reference, it’s currently 3 p.m. eastern, July 10, 2023.)

https://twitter.com/AO3_Status/status/1678468065070030856

The culprit (as with a few other DDOS attacks recently) is Anonymous Sudan, a group that is likely Russian, not Sudanese. The ‘reason’ they gave–that AO3 is “full of disgusting smuts and other LGBTQ+ and NSFW things,” is thin and probably not completely legit, though still legitimately concerning.

The AS claim: https://twitter.com/FalconFeedsio/status/1678397195039526912

Reporting on AS: https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-06-28/anonymous-sudan-does-group-behind-microsoft-cyberattack-have-ties-to-russia (you can use archive.ph to get this one, 12ft doesn’t seem to work)

As noted here, https://twitter.com/honeyskeleton/status/1678449598703050769:

DDOS protection is expensive especially for a high traffic site like ao3. And it’s uniquely vulnerable as an independent site without ads or other corporate support. SPECIFICALLY targeted bc of its queer works and yet ppl will still complain every time they ask for donations lmao 

So, again, when AO3 comes back online, please don’t go hard with refreshing all your tabs. Please do remember to download fics you love early and often as  you continue in your whole ~reading journey~. And please do support AO3 through a dono or becoming a donating member, if it is possible for you to do so.

Cochise County Cowboys modern biker gang. Thoughts?

just a reminder these prompt lists are also for this blog as well !

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

✩∶ﾟ･. — too scared to fall and too ruined to let it end *.☽ .*

head here for rules on requesting !

❝ I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. ❞

❝ I just look at you and I just love you. And it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you. ❞

❝ I want you…I didn’t know what wanting was before you. ❞

❝ Ask me to stay and I will. I will drop everything else if you ask me to stay. ❞

❝ I trust you with parts of myself I’m afraid to show to anyone else. ❞

❝ You came? ❞ ❝You called. ❞

❝ I like you more than I planned. ❞

❝ There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you. ❞

❝ Don’t do that. ❞ ❝ Do what? ❞ ❝ Look at me like I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. ❞

❝ I like it when you smile. It’s cute. ❞

❝ What are you doing up so late? ❞

❝ For you, I would steal the stars. ❞

❝ Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway? ❞

❝ Take the mask off when you speak to me. ❞

❝ Kiss me, you piece of shit. ❞

❝ What a plot twist you were. ❞

❝ Even though we never said it to each other, we knew. ❞

❝ I fall in love with souls, not faces. ❞

❝ Sleep. I’m not going anywhere. ❞

❝ You make me feel. You make me feel…and I want it to stop. ❞

❝ Are you asking me to slow dance in your kitchen in my jammies? ❞

❝ It has made me better, loving you. ❞

❝ What I feel for you doesn’t have a name. ❞

❝ Perhaps we may meet each other in a dream. ❞

❝ I want to be with you, it is as simple, and complicated, as that. ❞

─ 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

summary: she tries to deny it, but truth is, she's falling in love with him

warnings: language, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking

pairings: johnny ringo x outlaw!oc (⨍)

“You make me feel…you make me feel,” she said quietly, fiercely, a tremble on her lip and bottle clutched so tight she swears it’ll shatter in her hands, “and I don’t like it. I want it to stop.”

He looks at her, quiet and foreboding as he’s always been, thumbs tucked in his sash as they always are, hat dipped below his eyes like it always is. She hates when he looks at her that way.

Quiet. Hungry. Carnal.

She hates when her heart races and leaps into her throat when he tilts his hat just so, hates when her knees quiver with every step his take. Ever so languid — smug, even — towards her like they’re the only two in the damn roo. She hates how dizzy he makes her when his fingers lace through her sash, tugs her close enough she can see the hazel in his dark eyes and smell the lingering cigar smoke on his breath.

She hates how it makes her feel.

Weak. Vunerable. Desired.

She hates it.

And yet…

She never wants him to stop.

“Everly…”

She can’t bear to look at him.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

Rough fingers hook under her chin, tilting just so his lips are a moments away from hers she can taste the whiskey on his breath and inhale the lingering fumes of cigars. It leaves her dizzy and shaken and drunk on only the feeling of him.

“Johnny…,” she whispers. A warning. A plea. A prayer on the tip of her tongie all he has to do is reach out and taste it.

The thought thrills and scares her.

Something shifts behind his eyes, darker as they flutter down to her lips, her nose, her brow before they return to her own.

“What do I make you feel?” He whispers the words into her mouth, her head swimming when his fingers hook into her sash, pulling her so close her hips knock into his, and she swears her heart’s stopped beating right in her chest.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

I love you.

The bottle slips from her hands.

“I look at you, and I just love you,” the confession is so small, so quiet, hardly above a whisper. A mere note hanging on the end of a song he can hear that damn lunger playing just a few saloons down.

He hears it. He hears it and hangs on to every word.

“I love you, Johnny. And it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you.”