#stole from one of my moots

[confusedmothboy]

not to be demanding but I need to keep wife fed pls get on vannat train and make some art PLEASSE I BEG I WILL MAKE SO MANY TRAVIS EDITS

@tortureddelilah (hope i got the tag right) heres ur food

[catboyglover]

if tiktok existed in the community timeline (2009-2015) i think abed would have a account where he literally just posts silly little shitposts about cats

[bees-official]

Fucking obviously i think its really funny bc like portugal is like 1/20th the size of brazil and yet has more money and im just like. Huh. Wonder where that came from 🙃

They do, you guys just don’t speak Portuguese. Log onto Brazilian internet right now and you will see Portugal getting torched on the regular

[okkalo]

hope all your finals went well!!! 🫶🫶 take all the time you need <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

thank u! giving u the biggest smooch anon (•̀ᴗ•́)و ⟡

[space-station-nursery]

◜ ❗𓂃 Space Station Reports ‧ ❕ ◞

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DO NOT INTERACT WITH @KODASWRLD

now that that's out of the way, we will be discussing NSFW briefly in this post, please make sure you are reading when in a safe mindset. All moots will be tagged at the end for further reach, i apologize to anyone i ping who does not like to be pinged[/g] however this is a serious topic to me and i want this to reach as far as possible

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Beforehand:

Hello kiddos, this is a more in-depth report from the one we made [here] about the up and growing agere creator Kodaswrld. I found their[i cant remember their pronouns rn] blog a few months ago, and absolutely fell in love. I loved their dividers, their text posts, and all the freestyling on their blog!

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September:

On september 10th, 2024, we created a post called "Agere Backpack ideas"! The next day [Sep 11th, 24], while scrolling through a creator i also thoroughly enjoy, i saw a post they had reblogged.... It was our backpack ideas, but it wasnt written by me... in fact, it was re-uploaded by someone who i thought created interesting content. I commented under the original post to take it down as we did not consent to our work getting re-uploaded. They deleted our comment. A few days later after fd calmed me from my panic attack, we sent an ask to take down our post as we did not consent to our content being reposted. At the start of our blog, i did have "do not rewrite" on our blog, however because nothing ever happened, i took it away when we changed into the space station nursery. They deleted our ask. a week or more later [unfortunately i dont remember at this point anymore] They closed asks under the guise of "getting hate"

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Current:

After everything happened, fd scoured around to create a blacklist. At this time, i had finally calmed down, and was ready to blacklist. Before we got to it tho, i saw a post created by another agere creator in which Koda had stolen from. This creator asks that all followers or people interacting report if their content was being reposted, as koda had taken one of their posts, and it got SIGNIFICANTLY more notes, as well as Koda copying their DNI banner, just changing the font and small images on the side:

Original post that Koda stole, at the time, post had at max 200 notes, minimum 150. OP name and pfp covered for privacy

Copied post made by Koda. Notice the amount of notes it has [if you check] 740 notes

---

This is not the only instance of this happening with Koda, and no "but they add credits" is not a viable defense here. We did not tell them they could do this, and they did not ask, by the looks of all posts, they didnt ask ANYONE to use their posts. The little credits at the bottom is also hard to see, especially by those who are visually impaired. I had an almost blind friend check out their post, and that friend couldnt even see the credits without us zooming in and circling it for the friend to see. Thats a problem. And people who see it but dont think much of it [like me] will not click the credits. I didnt. and i apologize to those whom i contributed to as apart of the problem

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So what else needs to be discussed?

Well, before we get to the NSFW they interact with, lets go with the tracing and stealing. Thank you to the person that sent us this [will not name for the safey of the individual but they are free to comment and let you guys know! They sent a non anonymous ask but still, yknow?]

So-.... Proof?

This is a screenshot sent to us that shows a user by the name of @/b4bybear_ , crediting their BF and CG @/SEABUNE for creating an image we all know and love, and have MOST LIKELY SEEN amongst agere intros [all blue markings have been made by me]

As you can see in the second image, the user is written on the bottom, exactly how its written on the twitter post. This image is widely available, and many many individuals use it..... However, Koda didnt seem to care

As you can see, Koda NOT ONLY traced, changed a singular item, and erased the original creators credits, they then wrote their own name on the bottom and claimed this post as their own. And no, changing one thing on an art post while still tracing everything else is not "creating your own content" or "taking inspo" This is blatant copying. This is further than just stealing text posts, they are stealing

ART from other sources [nsfw below]

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And now, the NSFW....

Kodaswrld does have their following open, meaning that littles, middles, and anyone visiting their blog can see who they interact with. These are some of the blogs they currently follow, and content they post/reblog:

@/slvttyfied

@/firstladyofjuicycouture12

Whilst being 18+, there is nothing wrong with interacting and following NSFW content and blogs. However if you are running a blog with a minor following [not small amount of people, minors. people 17 and under] you should not have your follows seen if you are interacting with this kind of content. Minors are curious, and you are exposing them to things they do not yet need to see or know about. Especially when kinks/hard kinds are involved. I am 21 and fd is 22. We will NEVER, allow nsfw blogs or rebloggers to interact with our content

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Final thoughts:

Through our mini blacklist, we have found out that koda knows what they are doing, and are actively avoiding discussing it. We also learned that they ship real people [called rps or "real people shipping"], and for having almost 800 followers, do not deserve it. Please, spread this far and wide, show your friends, you moots, reblog it even if it doesnt fit your aesthetic. This person NEEDS to be stopped.

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Our moots: @oftlunarialmoon @nostalgic-woodwind , @zimswife , @deesblanketfort , @angel-bunnie @aprilsmabelmaple , @diaryofalittlestar , @h3ll0everybby1 , @xx-raines-space-kindergarten-xx [hi raaaaine]

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 10/12

Anonymous asked: Scratch: Won't anyone think of the children!! If you're gonna be smooching then get a room!!! also Scratch: Time to go manipulate more children into destroying their relationships! @manorinthewoods asked: There are two events in which Scratch has, so far, gained emotions: one, when he discovered that the Serkets stole an incredibly important magical item and hid it for centuries or millenia; and two, romance in his workroom. ~LOSS (20/9/24)

@manorinthewoods asked: "Is it because there’s a ‘good’ and an 'evil’ way for a God Tier to die?" On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this brain fart? ~LOSS (20/9/24)

Wait, is that a brain fart? Because to me, it still scans.

Prospit, the 'good' moon, would naturally be associated with heroism, and vice-versa for Derse. Am I missing something really obvious?

Anonymous asked: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Death's Bell grows ever nearer. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. But will it determine whether the thief is trully a sinner? Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Honk. I guess we'll see :o) @ben-guy asked: The showdown between Vriska and Terezi really is one of the watershed moments of HS imo. You've questioned if Vriska has matured enough to escape death by mysterious transcendental judgement engine… but let's not forget the meanings of the words in question, and their inherent linguistic and philosophical ambiguity. What if her death being caused by her pursuit of a heroic (albeit foolish) plan tragically makes her growth the cause of a permanent death instead? What if Terezi's decision to kill her is just regardless of Vriska's motivations, making her growth a moot point? Of course, this feels a lot less mutually exclusive, which goes against the implications of the clock imagery. […]

How did Scratch phrase it again?

The terms of a God Tier permadeath are defined according to the case of the individual - which implies that Heroic and Just are subjective, even to Sburb. It sounds like there might not be any ironclad rules, and that everyone's ruling works differently.

Yes, Scratch appears to be outlining some universal examples here - but what does, say, 'corruption' really mean? There are many equally valid interpretations, and a lot of them are contradictory. Maybe each death uses the definition that makes the most sense to that player.

In any case, I think Vriska's fate is currently meant to be unclear. She's designed from the ground up to be a complex, morally ambiguous character, and you could construct a valid argument for either outcome.

For my part, I'm fully convinced this will resolve as Just. I've been predicting Vriska's death for most of the Act now, and it's extremely fitting for it to happen at Terezi's reluctant hands. All those Incidents are finally coming full circle, and they're coming for her.

@morganwick asked: Note that Scratch starts talking about dark pockets and needing to speculate immediately after Vriska sees Karkat and Terezi's corpses. That's all Terezi needed to see, which means it's all Scratch needed to know - and all Hussie needed to know as well.

True! The fight that Scratch couldn't call was part of a doomed timeline. Its outcome was completely irrelevant to the story - and therefore, there's a good chance that Hussie didn't bother to decide on the victor. Author Theory survives another day!

@relaxxattack asked: i dont know if this counts as spoilers (it's a quote from andrew hussie) but i think your theory on scratch's omniscience is basically spot-on! "Doc here refers to the dark spots, the pockets of void on which his vision is built. These hint at limitations to his omniscience. As an alt-author figure, his omniscience makes sense, since the author has sweeping knowledge of story details as well. Because I "know everything," he "knows everything" too. Of course, as I write the story, there are plenty of things I don't know yet, and the "not knowing" is always an important part of the process in this largely improvisational medium. The known gaps are worked into the story, evaded through time skips and other tricks, filling out the surrounding narrative until certain answers become clearer, and then revealed at the right moment. The voids are built around, and in a real way, become foundational, almost load-bearing gaps in knowledge, just as he describes. Pillars of shadow. So his dark spots are not only a limitation to an otherwise ridiculously overpowered villain that can be exploited, they're a feature of a specific type of "authorial omniscience" copied into his profile." -- Andrew Hussie

...and it's officially Hussie-approved! Let's fucking go!

Anonymous asked: One kind of less obvious thing he says about circumstantial simultaneity is that it weaves together perfectly disparate chronologies such as a pair of distinct sessions, so it seems it is at work when there is communication between sessions, such as conversations between humans and trolls. ie: The troll sending the message is circumstantially simultaneous to the human receiving the message. Ditto for the memos. Anonymous asked: Posting for someone else again. -DJ || I interpret Circumstantial Simultaneity to mean a very simple thing: "those events happens at different times, but at the same meta-time". Especially if the things happen in different worlds, and so happening at the same time is impossible, because different worlds have isolated timelines. - RM

That makes a lot more sense than my interpretation. I think I was thrown off by Scratch's insistence that Circumstantial Simultaneity is 'not fully comprehensible to a mortal mind'. His use of such phrasing led me to assume that the concept was more complicated than it appeared, leading me to try and puzzle out the 'real' meaning of the term.

So, in a nutshell, circumstantial simultaneity is when multiple sections of reality are linked by shared events, allowing their local timelines to synchronize. Seems straightforward enough.

Anonymous asked: i don't think scratch technically lied. there are multiple ways in which scratch could die in the same way that there are multiple ways in which anyone could die - an axe could theoretically kill you, but that doesn't mean there has to be a timeline where you get killed with an axe

The semantics here are pretty interesting.

Scratch has stated that there are multiple ways to kill him, which could mean:

That there are multiple scenarios which have a non-zero probability of killing him.

That there are multiple scenarios that would hypothetically cause him to die, if they actually occurred.

These two statements have fairly similar meanings, but, as anon pointed out, there's an important distinction between the two. Statement 1 requires Scratch to actually die in some timelines, but Statement 2 doesn't require him to ever die, in any timeline.

Scratch has stated that he'll only die in one timeline, which means that there is only one scenario that will ever lead to his death. All other scenarios will never lead to his death - and thus, even if they could 'hypothetically' kill him, the probability that they will kill him is zero.

@heliotropopause asked: Never change, Noir. is that the oil jug WV uses for his mural in act 2? how'd it get to Scratch's lair?

I don't think it's the same jug, for the simple reason that both Carapacians emptied out the whole thing for their respective shenanigans. This ain't no Alchemy Jug!

abysswarlock asked: I like to think that the meta joke with the disks are a parallel of how the kings scepters hold small instantiations of skaia that exist within skaia itself, in this case the story of homestuck exists in disk form within the narrative itself.

Perhaps, but the Scepter's recursion is explained to be a game mechanic, whereas there's currently no explanation for the disk's existence. I guess Hussie himself could have put it there, but, like... why?

Anonymous asked: ‘His army thus inspired would spearhead a major re8ellion. Surely one at least on the scale of the sectarian revolt crushed 8y the High8loods, who thereafter for8ade its mention, or any invoc8tion of the heretical sym69ls at all, even in private journals.’ do you have any theories about this line?

Karkat's leadership shines in times of immediate crisis, which is part of why he struggled to keep his team together in the Veil. He doesn't know how to motivate people without an immediate, in-your-face threat - but since his ancestor was leading a rebellion, that probably wasn't an issue for him. The threat was omnipresent.

In short, I think Karkat Senior was always in Vantas Panic Mode. He'd have spearheaded Alternia's first rebellion with vim, vigor, seemingly infinite stamina, and sheer, bloody-minded determination - and if he was anything close to as likeable as Karkat, folk heroism was virtually inevitable. I can't wait to learn more!

@semaphoricwave asked: w.r.t. learning Mindfang dates the Summoner: it makes you wonder if Vriska's obsession with Tavros was the Alternian equivalent of comphet. She had no respect for his agency in the scenario (not difficult to develop when you're able to mind control people), but also she didn't seem to hold much stock in her own agency in all that, either. It's not even a cueball fortune, she just seems to want to be true: this boy she wants to 'make better' (but doesn't know how) is meant to make her happy. Anonymous asked: so with the revelation of the summoner, this makes TWO characters that vriska canonically was in/pursued as part of a romantic relationship that were descendants from her ancestors romantic partners. girl is inventing new kinds of comphet 😭

Vriska, for god's sake. Terezi is right there.

@iknowitsgreen asked: I find it so interesting that there's now an implication that Vriska literally expected Tavros to grow wings and fly to safety when she threw him off that cliff. The question is, did she simply resent Tavros for proving her fantasy wrong, or did she convince herself that Tavros chose to be paralyzed over showing his wings to her? It somewhat recontextualizes her early treatment of him either way

Layers upon layers upon layers. Vriska was fucked up about Tavros from twenty directions at once, and should never have been let within a thousand feet of the poor guy.

@manorinthewoods asked: Since trolls growing wings is apparently some sort of mythic event, presumably the God Tier wings of Vriska specifically tie into this. A God Tier troll gaining wings would be much more significant to the troll than to the human reader, as their culture places incredible emphasis on the meaningfullness of such - and perhaps the God Tier ascension could be likened to such a 'pupation'. ~LOSS (10/9/24)

It would explain why both Vriska and Aradia got them, but John didn't. The trolls have a lot in common with insects, so it stands to reason that in their culture, an insect's metamorphosis would be associated with divine apotheosis.

Anonymous asked: It’s super fascinating riding along as you go through this sequence because when I first read homestuck literally all the mind games went over my head haha. I saw what happened, and had a decent grasp on the characters, but the idea that Gamzee was manipulating Terezi? Never occurred to me. Everything about “why didn’t Terezi suspect Gamze” was just a mystery I never solved (mostly because I never understood gamzee, and still don’t) So Thank You so much for helping me understand better, years later! It’s so wild to look back and know what happens, but still have a limited grasp on why it went down that way.

Thank you for the kind words!

And yeah, a lot of Gamzee's schtick seems to be focused on obfuscating what he's actually doing. The real smoking gun there was the near-complete loss of Terezi's deductive abilities, at the exact moment Gamzee should have entered her radar.

@skelekingfeddy asked: ive always seen the grand highblood as not a troll, but like, the head of the imperial drones. when asked why his blood is black hussie said ‘Because he’s a huge gross monster? I don’t what sort of answer would be meaningful.When the highbloods were setting up the judicial system, they said ok we’re going to need some judges for this thing. Then they said ok how about these massive brainless monsters, that would be so perfect.’ […] its a headcanon of mine that hht is technically the same species as the mother grub. same with the imperial drones. if the mother grub is a queen bee then the drones are…well, drones. and hht is, like, a drone foreman, or sergeant, or something. i imagine that trolls and the drones’ species evolved a reproductive symbiosis, but then the empire took advantage of it and co-opted the drones + hht as enforcers

There's such an interesting untold story here, about how the early trolls might have cyberized a formerly symbiotic species, and essentially made them its slaves.

I've always been interested in how, exactly, the trolls developed their symbioses, and what they might have looked like before Alternian civilization became what it is today.

Anonymous asked: terezi tries to play disc 2 on a gramophone because she literally doesn't know how a cd works - sgrub is all run via grubtech, and most of her humanning has been with mr turntables who even if asked would probably describe a cd through obtuse metaphor likening it to a vinyl record

Oh, good point. Terezi's from a civilization which left CDs behind a long, long time ago.

Hey, come to think of it, why does the Veil even have a…

...oh, right. The room isn't 'canon', so I probably shouldn't be trying to theorize too hard about its contents. It's not really part of the story.

@catlikeascendant asked: I had the impression that just like mindfang was vriska's FLARP character, Redglare was terezi's. That would explain terezi having the outfit and responding to the name, at least @somebody0214 asked: Terezi did roleplay a lot as the Redglare so it would make sense she would respond to Redglare. @dissonancies asked: I'm honestly not sure Terezi does know about her ancestor. […] Vriska had the journals, but she tries to keep her cards close to her chest- remember, "Mindfang" was Vriska's roleplay name. Who's to say she didn't just "casually" "suggest" Redglare for Terezi's character, without telling her why?

Vriska, just how many of your friends have you been molding into their ancestors?

I won't be mad - I just want to know.

Anonymous asked: Equius Sr being fit to Inherit the cueball due his passive Voidiness is another point to sharing classpects with Equius Jr, the Heir of Void. @cationicflood asked: now that youve met the Expatri8, you know now why Scratch didn’t know Vriska had the cue ball until Terezi told him — it’s spent untold centuries ensconced in Zahhak-flavored Void aura. Even when it was in Vriska’s possession, it so happened she was quite literally neighbors with Equius.

We've talked a lot about how I believe Scratch's 'dark pockets' represent information that Hussie hasn't decided on yet. It's admittedly a little difficult to reconcile that with the fact that Void, an in-universe Aspect, is strongly implied to be the source of at least some of these pockets.

Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level, as well as a literal one. Like, perhaps Void is the aspect of author uncertainty, and therefore, anything that Hussie hasn't decided on out-of-universe is canonically 'hidden by Void'.

Anonymous asked: Mindfang warning Vriska about looking into the cueball…. So what you're saying is that Mindfang warned Vriska about the *stares*

It literally keeps happening!

@wolygan asked: So based off of the troll Ancestors we have seen, what do you think the rest might be like? also what do you think of the ones we have seen, since we don't know much about them yet. @absinthe-and-alabaster asked: Hi! I'm wondering if you have any updated thoughts from your initial ancestor theory post about the ancestors we haven't seen yet, given we know a bit more about troll history now

Not a lot! I'm obviously curious about the others, particularly Karkat's, but it's hard to come up with any concrete theories, other than 'their experiences and personalities will parallel those of their descendants', which is a freebie, based on the Ancestors we already have.

Anonymous asked: To be fair to EQ,Nepeta was far and safe when Gamzee attacked, and she could easly hide out of harm way with her skills. He just miscalculated and didn't realise she would follow him and attack Gamzee after he died.

True - but at the same time, he knew that Gamzee would still remain at large after his death, and that he, Equius, would no longer be able to protect Nepeta.

Even if she hadn't attacked him immediately, Gamzee would have remained a significant danger to everyone else on the Veil, Nepeta included. Had Equius fought back, he could have ensured that Gamzee would never be able to harm her.

@martinkhall asked: It's obvious to us that's not Vriska's handwriting. But just because Terezi can smell what the words say doesn't nesisarily mean she can smell the difference in how they're writen.

Plus, would Terezi necessarily be familiar with Vriska's handwriting? After all, most of the trolls seemed to communicate exclusively through modern technology. Would they really have any cause to pass notes to each other while FLARPing?

Anonymous asked: I would push back on the assertion that Heroic and Just deaths are the only way stories can work. One can be slain by a villain but not be a hero, and that can still matter to the story. A certain event from A Song of Ice and Fire springs to mind.

Oh, for sure - that's definitely correct outside of Homestuck. But within the comic, they really might be the only ways to die that Sburb considers 'dramatic' enough to be permanent.

Outside of the God Tier system, though, anything goes. After all, Equius was slain by a villain, and he didn't exactly die a hero.

@flerponius asked: Not really relevant to anything that's going on right now, but I thought you might find it interesting. In the Homestuck physical books, AH comments that the 4 grist types unlocked by default at the beginning of the comic (not including build grist) are related to the players quests; specifically, each grist type is a blight on the land it's found on, and the players quest would involve removing it from the land. I don't think this was explained anywhere else in the comic.

Oh, interesting. I wonder what they were supposed to be for?

Like, how does Rose's chalk relate to bringing life back to her oceans? Did Hussie have different Quest in mind for her, back then?

@manorinthewoods asked: The human session is shaping up to have lasted for less than a week due to Jack's interference, while the trolls slogged through over 600 hours (probably 612, to be specific, or 25.5 days) of relationship drama, powerleveling, and the production of inane yet somehow powerful weapons. Which of these is a more 'normal' length for a session? Did the trolls take too long, or were they rushing? Do bigger sessions last for longer? ~LOSS (2/9/24)

I'm pretty sure the troll session was closer to a 'typical' length.

According to Karkat, the human Reckoning arrived significantly sooner than normal - I assume this was due to Jack's double regicide.

If the human session had gone more smoothly, I imagine that it, too, would have taken several weeks. Like the trolls, the kids would have been able to hang out in person - and unlike the trolls, it probably wouldn't have devolved into multiple homicides.

@cheyj05 asked: Hey, just so you know it's pretty much impossible to read your liveblog in order on mobile. Searching the act 1 tag doesn't work so you pretty much would just have to scroll ALL the way back, which is impossible @cheyj05 asked: Ignore my last ask, I figured out how to do it

Mind sharing how, actually? I've been assuming that this was impossible, due to the Tumblr app's, uh, unique issues. If there's a way to browse the tags properly on mobile, I should probably add it to the pinned.

Anonymous asked: What do you mean "barely wind-themed", John made a car fly with his wind powers, why is a boat less believable?

You're not wrong. I guess I meant more that the boat's Breath energy looked a lot less like actual wind, and more like the abstract idea of Breath. It might just be stylistic, though.

@wolygan asked: I read another liveblog for Homestuck, and they just got to meeting Jade and then wrote a short essay on how they are convinced that Jade is the seer of light, just thought you might find that funny to know.

I do find that funny to know! Hussie got 'em again!

[phoenix-eclipses]

brb ugly sobbing over this message bug AHHHH I saw it in vc and was like :(( bug buggg

ill be honest not going to follow bug in the individual messages mostly cause its almost 2 am and I SHOULD be going to bed so we are not doing that emotioning rn openly (...they're in the tags...)

@cosmicbrowniebox @stellar-headquarters @kaeyx @osamucide

favirote moots?

(People you tag have to reblog and say their favorite moots)

Okay wait

@ibrokeurheartbcuzubrokemine @foliverfalls @allyeilishh @addisonraesbaby @emiliesblohsh @bilsslut @noodleswashere @bilsbabyy @bitchesbrokenpromises @billsdollie

[okwonyo]

hi, luvdolls ! my moots (ourhees, bywons & flwrstqr) made important posts about the fact that a youtube channel was taking people’s work as their own. @.veauyves has been plagiarizing people, including me, for months now without shame.

here are the few works they took from me as their own.

LET ME LOVE YOU | STOLED VERSION

ONE MORE KISS | STOLEN VERSION

FEEL THE BITE | STOLEN VERSION

HAIRCUT | STOLEN VERSION

MIDAS TOUCH | STOLEN VERSION

MY KIND OF WOMAN | STOLEN VERSION

now, it has happened before and it will probably happen again in the future. but i can’t say this enough — nothing will ever be lower than plagiarism.

writers work hard to create their own stuff, they spend hours working hard to provide pieces that are you good and will make people happy. taking others’ work will never be a good thing, no matter how quick and short the said work is.

it is a shame to take people’s work, copying it word for word and have the immense audacity to post it as your own. this person has already done this before, they got called out so many times but never understood their mistakes or took their accounts down.

honestly, the best we can do is report them and give actual support to the writers who got plagiarized. please, reblog this for more people to see and check if any of their works got taken as well.

have a great day ! 💌

CHECK OUT THESE POSTS : SRU DANI & SAV

@flwrstqr @ourhees @soov @yeokii @cupidhoons @tzyunaes @bywons @bywonyo @lilyberyls @eunandonly @isoobie @boyfhee @pshbites @weoris @hhmnya @junislqve

[zedecksiew]

(Don't) Incentivise Ethical Behaviour

In the ongoing project of rescuing useful thoughts off Xwitter, here's another hot take of mine, reheated:

"Being good for a reward isn’t being good---it’s just optimal play."

The quote comes from Luke Gearing and his excellent post "Against Incentive", to which I had been reacting.

My thread was mainly intended as a fulsome nodding along to one of Luke's points. It was posted in 2021, and extended in 2023 after Sidney Icarus posed a question to it. So it is two threads.

Here they are, properly paragraphed, hopefully more cleanly expressed:

+++

(Don't) Incentivise Ethical Behaviour

This is my main problem with mechanically rewarding pro-social play: a character's ethical choice is rendered mercenary.

As Luke Gearing puts it:

"Being good for a reward isn’t being good---it’s just optimal play."

Bear in mind that I'm not saying that pro-social play can't have rewarding outcomes for players. Any decision should have consequences in the fiction. It serves the ideal of portraying a living, world to have these consequences rendered diegetic:

The townsfolk are thankful; the goblins remember your mercy; pamphlets appear, quoting from your revolutionary speech.

What I am saying is that rewarding abstract mechanical benefits (XP tickets, metacurrency points, etc) for ethical decisions stinks.

+

A subtle but absolutely essential distinction, when it comes to portraying and exploring ethics / morality, in roleplaying games.

Say you reward bonus XP for sparing goblins.

Are your players making a decisions based on how much they value life / the personhood of goblins? Or are they making a decision based on how much they want XP?

Say you declare: "If you help the villagers, the party receives a +1 attitude modifier in this village."

Are your players assisting the community because it is the right thing to do, or are they playing optimally, for a +1 effect?

+

XP As Currency

XP is the ur-example of incentive in TTRPGs. It began with D&D's gold-for-XP, and has never strayed far from that logic.

XP is still currency. Do things the GM / game designer wants you to do? Get paid.

Players use XP to buy better mechanical tools (levels, skills, abilities)---which they can then in turn use to better perform the actions that will net them XP.

Like using gold you stole from goblins to buy a sword, so you can now rob orcs.

I genuinely feel that such systems are valuable. They are models that illuminate the drives fuelling amoral / unethical behaviour.

Material gain is the drive of land-grabbing and colonialism. Logger-barons and empires do get wealthier and more privileged, as a reward for their terrible actions.

+

If you want to present an ethical choice in play, congruent to our real-life dilemmas, there is value in asking:

"Hey, if you kill the goblins you can grab their treasure, and you will get richer. There's no reward for sparing their lives, except that they are thankful."

Which is another way of asking:

"Does your commitment to the ideal of preserving life outweigh the guaranteed material incentives for taking life?"

The ethical choice is the difficult choice, precisely because it involves---as it often does, in real life---sacrificing personal growth and gain. Doling out an XP bounty for doing the right thing makes the ethical choice moot.

"I as the player am making a mechanically optimal choice, but my character is making an ethical choice!"

A cop-out. Owning your cake and eating it too. The fictional fig-leaf of empathy over a calculated a decision to make profit.

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Sidney Icarus asks a question which I will quote here:

"... those who hold to their beliefs of good behaviour don't feel rewarded, and therefore feel punished. And that's not a good feeling. It's an unpleasant experience to play a game where the righteous players are in rags, and the mercenary fucks have crowns and sceptres. So, what's the design opportunity? How do we make doing the right thing feel pleasant without making it mercenary? Or, like reality, do we acknowledge that ethical acts are valuable only intrinsically and philosophically? I have no idea how to reconcile this."

I would suggest that the above dichotomy---"righteous players in rags, mercs in crowns"---is true if property is recognised as the only true incentive.

+

Friends As Property

Modern games try to solve the righteous-players-in-rags "problem" in various ways. Virtue might not net you treasure or XP, but may give you:

Contact or ally slots, which you can fill in;

Relationship meters you can watch tick up;

Favour points you can cash in later;

etc.

How different are these mechanical incentives from treasure or XP, really?

Your relationships with supposedly living, breathing beings are transformed into abilities for your character: skills you can train; powers you can reliably proc. Pump your relationship score with the orc tribe until calling on them for reinforcements becomes a once-per-month ability.

Relationships become contracts. Regard becomes debt. Put your friend in an ally slot, so they become a tool.

If this is what you want play to be---totally fine! As stated previously, games say powerful things when they portray the engines of profit and property.

But I personally don't think game designers should design employer-employee relationships and disguise these as instances of mutual aid.

+

Friends As Friends

In the OSR campaigns I'm part of, I keep forgetting to record money. Which is usually a big deal in such games, seeing as they are in the grand tradition of gold-for-XP?

In both games, my characters are still 1st-Level pukes, though it's been months.

I'm having a blast, anyway.

My GMs, by virtue of running organic, reactive worlds, have made play rewarding for me. NPCs / geographies remember the party's previous actions, and respond accordingly.

I've been given gills from a river god, after constant prayer;

I've befriended a village of monsters, where we now live;

I've parleyed with the witch of a whole forest, where we may now tread;

I've a boon from the touch of wood wose, after answering his summons.

I cannot count on the wood wose showing up. He is a character in the world, not a power I control. Calling on the wood wose might become a whole adventure.

Little of this stuff is codified my stats or abilities or equipment list. They are mostly all under "misc notes".

Diegetic growth. Narrative change that spirals into more play.

This is the design opportunity, to me:

How do we shape TTRPG play culture in such a way that the "misc notes" gaps in our games are as fun as the systemised bits? What kinds of orientation tools must we provide? What should we say, in our advice sections?

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A Note About Trust

The reason why it is so hard to imagine play beyond conventional incentive structures has a lot to do with trust.

Sidney again:

One of the core issues is the "low trust table". I'm not designing just for myself but for my audience. For a product. How much can I ask purchasers and their friends to codesign this part with me?

Nerds love numbers and things we can write down in inventories or slots because they are sureties. We've learned to fear fiat or player discretion, traumatised as we are by Problem GMs or That Guys.

The reason why the poverty in Sidney's hypothetical ("righteous players are in rags") sounds so bad is because in truth it represents risk at the game table. If you don't participate in the mechanics legible to your ruleset (the XP and gear to do more game things), you risk gradually being excluded from play.

You have no assurance your fellow players will know how hold space for you; be considerate; work together to portray a living world where NPCs react in meaningful ways---in ways that will be fun and rewarding for everybody playing.

You are giving up the guarantee of mechanical relevance for the possibility of fun interactions and creative social play.

+

The "low trust table" is learned behaviour--the cruft of gamer culture and trauma.

When I game with folks new to TTRPGs, they tend to be decent, considerate. I think there's enough anecdotal evidence from folks playing with school kids / newcomers / etc to suggest my experience is not unique.

If the "low trust table" is indeed learned behaviour, it can be unlearned.

Which rules conventions, now part of the hobby mainstream, were the result of designers designing defensively---shadowboxing against terrible players and the spectre of "unfairness"?

How can we "undesign" such conventions?

Lack of trust is a problem that we have to address in play culture, not rulesets. You cannot cook a dish so good it forces diners to have good table manners.

+

This is too long already. I'll end with an observation:

Elfgames are not praxis, but doesn't this specific dilemma in the microcosm of our silly elfgames ultimately mirror real-world ethics?

To be moral is to trust in a better world; to be amoral / immoral is to hedge against the guarantee of a worse one.

+++

Further Reading

Some words from around the TTRPG community about incentive and advancement in games:

+

However, the reason there is a big debate about this is that behavioural incentives in games clearly do work, either entirely or at various levels. This applies outside gaming, as well. Why do advertising companies and retail business use "rewards" structures to convince people to buy more of their products? Why do people chase after "Likes" on social media?

A comment by Paul_T to "A Hypothesis on Behavioral Incentives" from a discussion on Story-Games.com

+

the structure and symbolism of the D&D game align with certain structures and values of patriarchy. The game is designed to last infinitely by shifting goalposts of character experience in terms of increasing amounts of gold pieces acquired; this resembles the modus operandi of phallic desire which seeks out object after object (most typically, women) in order to quench a lack which always reasserts itself.

D&D's Obsession With Phallic Desire from Traverse Fantasy

+

In short, my feeling is that rewarding players with character improvement in return for achieving goals in a specific way impedes some of the key strengths of TTRPGs for little or no benefit in return. 

Incentives from Bastionland

+

When good deeds arise naturally out of the players choices, especially when players rejected other options that were more beneficial to them, it is immensely satisfying. Far more than if players are just assumed to be heroic by default. It gives agency and meaning to player choice.

Make Players Choose To Be Kind from Cosmic Orrery

+

Much has been made about 1 GP = 1 XP as the core gameplay loop driver of TSR D+D. But XP for gold retrieved also winds up being something of a de facto capitalistic outlook as well. Success is driven by accumulation of individual wealth -- by an adventuring company, even! So what's a new framework that can be used for underpinning a leftist OSR campaign?

A Spectre (7+3 HD) Is Haunting the Flaeness: Towards a Leftist OSR from Legacy of the Bieth

+

Growth should be tied to a specific experience occurring in the fiction. It is more important for a PC to grow more interesting than more skilled or capable. PCs experience growth not necessarily because they’ve gotten more skill and experience, but because they are changed in a significant way.

Cairn FAQ from Cairn RPG / Yochai Gal

+++

Thank you Ram for the Story-Games.com deep cut!

( Image sources: https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/neuron-activation https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Majesty:_The_Fantasy_Kingdom_Sim https://www.economist.com/sites/default/files/special-reports-pdfs/10490978.pdf https://varnam.my/34311/untold-tales-of-indian-labourers-from-rubber-plantations-during-pre-independence-malaya/ https://nobonzo.com/ )

+

PS: used with permission from Sandro, art by Maxa', a reminder to self:

[allforhee]

ੈ✩ — 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇! (BLURB) | YANG JUNGWON

୨୧ pairing — non!idol!bf!jungwon x gn!reader

୨୧ synopsis — having jungwon as your boyfriend is full of surprises, and after dating him for a while, he takes you on once again another date. at this date, which happens to be an arcade date, you see the playful and child-like version of him, which makes you fall in love with him more.

୨୧ genre — established relationship, you guys were the best friends to lovers trope

୨୧ warnings — cute coupley stuff, jungwon being absolutely adorable, lovers only starting off their relationship aka still being shy with the lovey dovey stuff

୨୧ word count — 879 words, sorta proofread

୨୧ author's note — a bunch of moots on my twitter have been requesting a jungwon fic... so here it is! i hope you all enjoy and i hope i did my wonie girlies some justice ^^ pls i hope the ending line made sense ik it's cheesy but i love claw machines so i hope you enjoy wonie freaking over claw machines !!

"𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓, 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!" an excited jungwon squeals as he pulls you by the wrist.

date nights with jungwon were not uncommon. whether it be cafe hopping or watching a horror movie, you had been on many dates with him.

even if it was only a few months into your relationship with him, he always had a surprise up his sleeve. he always made date nights interesting.

as jungwon grabs your wrist to run to what he was pointing at, you take in this new aura of your boyfriend. the surrounding bright neon lights and the glow in the dark carpeted floor made it clear. jungwon had brought you to an arcade.

as you finally reach your destination after what felt like an eternity of jungwon pulling you, you come across a bright light in front of you, a square cube filled with all kinds of plushes. a claw machine.

"ynnie! look! oh i have to win one! where's my game card?" jungwon exclaims as he frantically looks for his game card he bought, prior to the date night.

"wonie, you know this is a scam, right?" you explain to him, as he's still looking for the card in his totebag.

jungwon gasps wildly, and looks at you like you just stole all the stars from the sky. "how dare you?! these are little plushies just waiting to be saved! can't you see their little faces trapped in that horrid cage?"

you laugh at his exaggeration, his face all pouty from your 'insult.'

as he finally finds his game card, his smiling expression beaming, he enthusiastically taps his card on the scanner, before the arcade music starts, and the 30 second countdown begins.

jungwon looks up into the glass cage as he can now move the crane with the joystick. he beams up into the cage as he slowly moves the arm to which plush he wants to get.

"oh- so clo- wait- baby can you check from the sides to see if it can properly grasp it?" jungwon asks, his face beaming with excitement.

you sigh as you move aside, looking into the glass cage from the sides. you decide to play with him a bit, "oh! move it back just a tad bit! yes- a bit mor- right there!"

as jungwon presses the big red CATCH button with confidence, you smile at him menacingly from the side, as the claw completely misses the plush.

"wait— no! i was so close!" jungwon cries out, seeing the claw move towards the drop zone without a plush in it.

you giggle and jungwon spots you, before giving you a pout. "baby~ what was that for?"

"you looked so excited to get the plush! i'm sorry, we'll try again, m'kay?" you confessed, as his face begins to light up again once more.

jungwon smiles and jumps in excitement, before tapping the card once more, and the game starts all over again.

this time, you're actually determined to help him get the plush, after seeing his beaming face and glowing smile. you can't help but wonder how it would be like if you could have that smile embedded in your brain.

as he moves the joystick and the claw moves once more, you grasp his hand—which was holding the joystick and help him adjust. he looks at you with a smile before focusing back to the game.

finally, you make the last few adjustments before you grab his hand to hit the CATCH button. at first, jungwon was surprised with the sudden decision, "ynnie~ that wasn't in place yet!" he whined.

you smiled at him before looking back into the cage, only to find the claw grasping none other than the plush he wanted. as the claw lifted it up, jungwon's eyes were focused. his eyes stuck following the plush, where it moved swiftly, and finally landed in the drop zone.

jungwon let out an excited gasp, before squatting down and grabbing the plush out of the collect here drawer. he smiled at you with that beaming smile, and you could feel your cheeks grow red.

"baby see! i told you we could do it! i caught it!" he smiled, holding the plush in your face, showing it off.

you giggled at him before mumbling "no, you're a catch."

you had thought jungwon was too enthralled in the plush to hear you, but his super-hearing picked up what you said.

"hmm? what did you say?" jungwon questioned you.

you snapped back into reality, gazing into his eyes, "what? oh nothing..."

jungwon laughed, "you think i'm a catch, don'tcha?"

you tried to hide your face in your hands, hiding your red face, before jungwon pulled you in a hug. you continued to hide your face in his neck, embarrassed.

"you don't have to hide, baby." jungwon giggled, as he pat your head, and kissed your forehead out of habit.

you felt goosebumps run throughout your body, before looking up and smiling at him. you kissed his cheek shyly, as you felt a soft item land in your arms.

as jungwon placed the plush he just won in your arms, he beamed at your confused expression, "i don't need the plush, you're always going to be my catch anyways."

taglist; @riekiss @sesameoil721 @desistay (crossed out = i can't tag you)

back to my masterlist?

© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[valscodblog]

𝓑𝓐𝓛𝓛𝓡𝓞𝓞𝓜𝓢-John Price x OC

Warnings: GOOGLE TRANSLATE WAS USED. Im sorry, Tags: @thebunnednun, @2econd-of-1sts, @rainyrambles-overcod, @writing-with-moss <3333

A/N: I DONT KNOW FRENCH AND IDK IF ANY OF MY MOOTS KNOW FRENCH SO IF ANYONE NATIVE TO THE TONGUE READS THIS AND CANT UNDERSTAND IT, IM SORRY, OKAY?? Google Translate was my best friend during this *sob* ALSO I HAD TO WATCH THE FUCKING WALTZ VIDEO LIKE FOUR TIMES BC I GOT MOVMENTS WRONG SO IF ITS STILL MAKING NO SENSE IM SORRY

She groaned and threw on her best red dress-"Why red, Kate?" "Because you need to stand out tonight, Val. You need to make sure John can see you and notice you, since you wont be arriving with him!" "I hate red, Kate." "He loves you in red." "...Like that motivates me."-and looked at herself. She almost wished her captain had said no to this co-op with 141. She slid on some heels and walked out, snagging a black purse and a fuax-fur boa to hang around her shoulders. She stepped out into the dining room, where her father was with her mother. Her mother grinned and jumped up to embrace her daughter. "¡Por fin! ¡Has decidido convertirte en mujer, querida!" Valentina grimiced, "Only for tonight-It's Father's opening! Such a grand event calls for a dress, no?" "Claro!" Valentina murmured, "Father...do you-" "It's from a brand that is not mine. I do not approve, however...It's so hard getting you into a dress to begin with that I really don't want to fight it. So, I'll let it slide." No wonder why his mother named you Valentino, She thought bitterly. She turned away and walked out into the open foyer. She took a deep breath before she heard a car horn honk four times. She ran outside as fast as she could in her heels and met Kate outside, like they planned. "Hey, lookin' Good, Val! How do you feel?" "Shitty, like dying, and....Amazingly pretty." Kate smiled. "Good, now remember, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and I are caiters with a secret coms channel with you and John-he'll give you the ear peice- if you spot the enemy before you see John, or one of us, run out. Ghost has eyes everywhere, he'll see you even if you can't see him."

Valentina nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." Kate nodded. "I have to get going. Be safe...and try to get along with your mom and dad?" "No." "Thought not. You'll be back on 141's base soon. Don't worry." Out of France. Thank god. She nodded and walked back into her house, only to be shoved back out by her mother, "¡El valet! ¡Está aquí! ¡Vamos, vamos, muévete!" Valentina ran out to the slick black limousine and sighed as she slid into the red leathered seats. She grabbed a wine glass and poured herself half a glass-but her father stole it. "Thank you, M'dear."

She narrowed her eyes but grumbled, "Welcome..." god, she hated that man. Valentina couldn't wait until they got there.

She heard her father announce the start of the Gala and she ran down the stairs and out onto the dance floor. She not only spotted John-She'd spotted the fucking enemy With him. She got caught by the wrist so she looked behind her and gasped. "Bonjour, ma chère... Envie de danser avec moi?" Valentina shook her head. "Non-" "We both know you Will dance with me if you want Price to live," 'Chase' muttered under his breath. Valentina glared at him but nodded and let him lead her out to the dance floor.

John watched. He grabbed a glass of wine from Soap's serving tray, muttering, "Keep close to her...I don't know that man but she seems to not like him." Truth was, he didn't know who 'Chase' was, or that the enemy wasn't just one man, but two. John watched as she bowed to the blonde man and took her leave to the minibar. He walked over to her as waltzing music started to play. Perfect. He could Waltz. No problem. He cleared his throat.

"Pardon a moi, Madamo-" "I speak English," Valentina cut him off with. He quirked a brow up. She knew how to keep the guys away, thats for sure. "Well, thank god. I was wondering...would you care to dance with me?" She smiled softly at John, and he took her hand and le her back out to the floor. Valentina lifted her arm up and straight away from herself and John held her free hand, pulled her slightly towards him, they bowed to each other and John smirked and they started to dance together. He spun her and she giggled, "Well-You waltz rather good...For and English man." and she was spun yet again, they held hands again, pushed each other away but were still connected by said hands and came together again, repeated this, then mirrored each other by waving their left arms out and then back to the default stance, then out then back, and so on.

John was having a good time. Then he spun her again and dipped her to the side. Valentina came back to him and whispered, "There's two, Johnathan. Two of them." John hummed. "As much as I'd rather not think of it, what do we do?" "...Plan B?" "Agreed." John's back was to her and he scanned the room before having to turn back around to face her again. "What do they look like?" "The one i was dancing with, his callsign's Chase, and the one you were all buddy-buddy with. That's Zap." John snorted. "Zap?" "All his weapons are either electric or he's the hacker of their little missions. Thus, Zap."

John grimaced but then he dipped her again as the song ended and he panted as he gripped onto her for dear life-they hadn't even realized that they had been moving on auto-pilot as they talked. Valentina stared at John for a few seconds too long and he stared back. "...John." "Val." She shook her head and pushed him away. She walked off, forcing the blonde man she had danced with to follow her. John narrowed his eyes as he saw the other one she had described quickly follow too.

"Soap-Ghost-Farah. Get in position. Kate...get the police on the line." He walked away after muttering this into the coms, following Valentina outside, acting like he was going to light a cigar. Valentina caught sight of him and walked over. "Ah...the Englishman with a good waltz..." John chuckled. "Careful, Love. Don't want you inhaling this stuff. Very bad on the virgin lungs." Valentina laughed softly. "Oh please. Like i want any of that," she said in disgust, waving her hand in front of her face. John watched the two other men walked over, one had a gun the other, a walkie talkie. "Found 'em, Boss," Zap said, smiling. Valentina froze. "Where's Farah?" "...Three...Two...One."

A gunshot went off, no one heard it. No one except Farah, John, and Valentina. The music inside was far too loud. Kate came outside and a security guard, who was tipped off by Kate what was going to happen that night, showed up with a few other cops. Kate spoke quietly and quickly to them. All the cops nodded and picked up the bodies, dragging them away. One stayed behind however and said, "I'm officer De Pont. I have to explain to your father what has gone down, and tell him to keep it all hush hush until the clean up crew gets here, Madam Hernandez. Im very sorry."

Valentina nodded, "If it's for the best." "It is." "My father may not be the greatest man...but he'll keep this under the carpet if he wants his stores to keep growing." John put a shoulder on her shoulder as the cop walked away. "You grew up." "...Your welcome." Valentina walked back inside and sat down at the minibar again, ordering a small virgin martini. she sighed heavily. "Least the damn drink's never been touched too." "What?" John asked, sliding into a seat next to her.

"Nothing," She murmured softly shaking her head, John smiled and ordered a whiskey. "Too bad they dont have scotch here." "John. It's France...we're mainly a wine country." "Sigh...how sad." Valentina rolled her eyes bit smiled at him. She started up and random conversation about when she was an underaged rookie. John sighed heavily. "And you were one of the best rookies around, Girlie." She smiled at him and asked, "Oh really? Because a certain L.T. told me I would never get anywhere in life." John groaned as he downed the rest of his drink. He ordered another then replied. "I was a huge asshole because you had just joined, you were so small and yet...one of our best rooks. I Hated that."

Valentina sighed. "I hated the fact i forced myself to grow up so quick...i dont why I tried to be just like my cousins...I thought that they were the fuckin' Best...Guess I was wrong. War isn't all fun with guns." John put a hand on her back and ordered a glass of wine. He handed it to Valentina-she quirked a brow up. "John?" "Just drink." Valentina would take advantage of this-if it wasn't John. She set the glass down and whispered, "John...Im only-"

"I know your age. If your scared to get drunk again-" She chugged the fucking glass. John blinked before smirking. "There's m'girl." Ah...he was drunk. French alcohol wasn't a plaything after all. Poor Englishman. Valentina giggled and John ordered her another, then another...and pretty soon, she felt nice and couldn't remember where she was. Kate walked over and groaned. "John. She's underaged! You'll get arrested-" "It's legal. She's nineteen." Kate quirked a brow up, realizing that this was France. Kate sighed. "I'd better call the uber before you two get so drunk you wake up right where you two sit."

John nodded. "Good idea." So he let Kate drag him up and then he grabbed Valentina's hand, kissed the knuckles and let her wrap her arm around his and giggled out his name. And So sweetly at that. John walked her out of there, his own head barely holding up on his stiff shoulders. The valet that had driven Valentina there pulled up and asked, "Où aller ?" "Grand Hotel du Palais Royal." The driver nodded and as soon as they were buckled in started the drive. Valentina leaned over to John and murmured, "Your hot." John smiled, putting a a hand on her thigh.

Valentina tossed the leg with his hand on it over his lap and bit her lower lip. "Frisky, ain't we?" John asked, softly rubbing the thigh. Valentina made a bold move. She moved to fully sit in his lap. She hummed and murmured, "Maybe." John let her kiss him and he kissed back. Softly and slowly, his hands rubbing her thighs and he groaned after. "Val, wait...We're fuckin'-" "I know. Makes it more fun, don't it?"

John hummed softly.

The car rolls to a stop and John gathers her up in his arms, carrying her out of the vehicle and into the hotel. The concierge eyed him suspiciously, but John flashed him a smile and a wad of cash, and he hurries to open the door to the elevator. "She's just had a bit too much to drink," he murmured, patting Valentina's back as she nuzzles into his chest, arms around his torso. Hugging him like a teddy bear. "She'll be right as rain in the morning." The concierge nods, clearly not wanting to get involved, and John stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for Val's floor and leaned back against the wall, holding Valentina close. She mumbled something in French, her breath warm against his chest. He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. They reached the floor of his hotel room and he carried her down the hall to his room, fishing the key card out of his pocket with one hand. He managed to get the door open and stumble inside, kicking it shut behind him, the sound making Valentina jolt in his arms. He laid Valentina down on the bed, taking a moment to admire her beauty in the moonlight streaming through the window. 'Your damn gone, aintcha John?' he thought to himself.

Not to mention she's still wearing that bloody red dress, the fabric clinging to her curves. He trailed his fingers down her arm, feeling the softness of her skin-where it wasn't scarred anyways. She sighed softly, her eyes fluttering open. "John? whatter you doin', John-" she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and alcohol. "Shh, love," he  murmured, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "I've got you." She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't want to be alone tonight," she whispered. "You're not alone," he rumbled from deep in his chest, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm here." She reached up to cup his face, her hands warm due to the blood rushing into them as she used them drunkenly. John pressed a gentle kiss to her palm before pulling away to stand up. He took off his jacket and shirt, tossed them aside before starting on his boots. Valentina watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, her gaze roaming over his chest and shoulders.

"Like what you see, love?" he teased, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. She bite her lip, nodding slowly. "Very much," she murmured. John grinned and took off his pants, standing before her in just his boxers. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her "Never noticed how big ya were..."

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over her slowly, giving her a chance to change her mind. But she doesn't. Instead, she reaches up to run her hands over his chest, her hands gently playing with the patch of hair there. He hissed in a breath, his cock twitching in response-why did that even turn him on? The act was innocent enough..."Fuck, Valentina," he groaned, capturing her lips in a kiss that tasted like both whiskey and wine. She kissed back happily, her tongue tangling with his own. He ground his hips against hers,  watching as she blushed and hooked her arms around his neck. John broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, nipping at her pulse point.

"I want you," he whispered against her skin. "I wanna make y'scream f'me, Love." She arched into him, whining, her dress riding up to reveal the lacy edges of her panties. He slid his hand up her thigh, cupping her through the fabric. She's already wet, her arousal soaking through the thin material. "Please, John," she whimpered. She bucked her hips toward his and John shook his head. “You ever taken a dick before?” He noticed how inexperienced her movements were. How unsure of her hand placement was. She shook her head but still murmured, “I still wanna fuck you though...I like the idea of losing my virginity to you.” John sighed heavily. “If your sure..” “I’m sure, John…now will you fuck me?” “No…” he shook his head. And opted for something a little different.

 He slipped his fingers under the edge of her panties, stroking her slick folds. She bucks against his hand, her hips writhing. He circles her clit with his thumb, feeling it swell under his touch. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her, "Feel good, Love?" "Yeah-Yeah keep going." her eyes shut. and she let out a soft moan, grabbing his wrist.

-----

The sun forced her to open her eyes and then shut them again. She rolled over, dragging the blankets over her head. She felt like she had gotten fucked up last night-both ways. But she was...Right? She opened her eyes, took the blanket off her-and Price who was snoring as loud as a lawn mower next to her. He was covered his bite marks, scratches, hickeys...She felt herself stop breathing for a full half a minuet before roughly shaking John awake. "What did we do last night, Johnathan?"

[therealmylesmorales]

N S F W Alphabet|| Lara Croft

I feel like this doesn’t really need a warning, you see the title, you should know what’s up. Minors/ageless blogs if you interact, you will get blocked immediately ❤️ (fem!reader)

Moots look away, ill cry

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

No matter who was on top that night, Lara always gives aftercare. She doesn’t immediately get up to run the bath, she likes to sit there for a few minutes; allow the both of you to catch your breath, sing praises in your ears. So, probably after thirty minutes of that, she would bring you both to the bath.

B= Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

For herself, Lara’s favorite part of her body is probably her hands and arms. Going off from what I’ve seen on the show and the games, our girl has muscles and she’s definitely not afraid to show them in bed. She loves to hold you down, and having you feel the strength of her thrusts.

On you, Lara loves your tits and thighs. Big, small— it doesn’t matter, your nipple is ending up in her mouth at the end of the day. And she loves feeling the softness of your thighs when you squeeze her head as she laps at your pussy; it’s a wordless tell that you’re about to cum.

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Lara’s addicted to the way you taste. The way you glisten against her fingers, she will put her fingers between your lips just to immediately kiss you afterwards.

D= Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you two got together (in the talking/flirting stage), Lara often touched herself to the thought of you. She had borrowed (she stole that shit) one of your favorite t-shirts that was covered in your scent and that was the hardest she had ever come.

E= Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I don’t see Lara dating too many people before you, or even one night stands. But she still knows what she’s doing, just give her a chance to learn your body.

F= Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lara has two; one for you and one for herself.

Any position where she’s able to see your face is often her go to. She loves to see your eyes roll back as she takes you with the strap, running her hands all over your pretty body.

For herself, Lara loves to be taken from the back. Her arch is oh so pretty, and she comes the hardest this way. Don’t be surprised if you were to make her squirt eventually.

G= Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

While a couple of giggles will escape her after a couple fumbling fingers, there will be no joking. Ain’t shit funny on how she’s holding you hostage (lovingly) against the bed.

H= How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

First off, Lara wouldn’t care how you look. Clean shaven, bush, whatever. An eater is going to eat. As for herself, she’s well trimmed. She prefers herself that way.

I= Intimacy (how well are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Lara is nothing if not romantic. If her hands aren’t busy elsewhere, at least one of them are hold onto one of yours. She just likes to feel close to you.

J= Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before you, Lara never masterbated much. She was too busy or just not really in the mood. But after being with you, you awoke something in her.

Now, she’ll stare at the pictures you sent, or even the rare videos of you both, fingers working furiously over her clit as she whispers your name in the quiet bedroom.

K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. Praise. Praise— this girl will not shut up about you. Constantly whispering in your ear as her fingers or hips thrust against you.

“You’re taking me so well, darling.”

“Fuck, such a good girl, my love.”

Overstim is also a common action in the bedroom. So unless the safe word comes out or you’re close to passing out, be prepared for a long night.

Breeding kink.

L= Location (favorite place to do the do)

Her bedroom, or even the manor in general, is the only acceptable place for her. She doesn’t want her name to be on the front page again, she does have a slight reputation to uphold. But inside the manor, there’s no holding back.

M= Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If Lara stares at you for too long, she would want to take you to the bedroom. Of course, you could tell the difference between her loving stares and the looks where she wants to drag you into the bedroom.

She stares a bit too long at your lips. And if you have even a bit of a cleavage, you would need to repeat what you said at least another time because baby girl was not listening.

N= No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Lara is NOT degrading you, it’s not in her character not to mention she can’t even bring herself to say anything like that to you. You are free to call her names though.

Anything with blood, knives or straight up hurting each other is a hard no too, it’s not up for debate.

O= Oral (preference in giving, receiving, skill, etc.)

Even if she gets lockjaw, Lara isn’t stopping until you push her head away. She gets addicted to your taste, by how your clit throbs against her tongue. Lara will keep her eyes on you face, remember how beautiful you look with her buried between your legs.

And Lara can only handle you eating her out for so long until she gets too sensitive. It doesn’t help that her first orgams happens too fast, she needs a breather from you after the first one.

P= Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Lara is a mix of everything really, that would depend on how you want it. She could start off nice and slow then get caught up in the moment and start fucking you in the mattress, getting lost in your moans.

For herself, Lara likes to get fucked a little rougher. Be mean to her, she would like it.

Q= Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not. A. Fan. She likes to take her time and fully embrace you. Now she won’t turn down the offer to sneak away for others during a social gathering but you cum at least twice, back to back to make up for the fact that you’re not at home.

R= Risk (are they going to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

She’s willing to try most things at least once, especially if you request it so often. But despite how she acts, especially out in the wild, Lara isn’t much of a risk taker when it comes to you.

S= Stamina (how many rounds can they go? How long can they last?)

Between the two of you, you are the one that taps out first. Lara could go all night if she really wanted to. However seeing how she’s the one delivering most of the pleasure, you can only take so much.

T= Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You both use a strap, however Lara uses it more on you. It’s one of her favorites, it can stretch you out the way her long fingers can’t.

You use the vibrator whenever Lara’s away, sending her videos to tease her. Trust when I say she will blow up your phone just to hear you and talk you through it.

U= Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

Lara could only stand teasing you and being teased for so long until she cracks. She will let one comment slide before she will toss you onto the bed. She is much stronger than you and will use that to her advantage.

V= Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc)

You would think Lara is the one getting fucked by how much she whimpers and cries. No, she just doesn’t know how to keep herself quiet; crying into your neck as she whimpers out incoherent praises as she straps you down.

Now if it’s one of the rare times when YOU wear the strap, Lara is damn near the opposite. You’re hitting every spot in her and she finds it hard to breathe, only harsh gasps. But when she cums, her moans rings throughout the room.

W= Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Seeing you care for her, really turns Lara on; whether that be small chores around the manor, stitching her up and making sure she’s fine after coming home—anything like that. Lara would feel as if she needs to pay you back in some way. Maybe her on her knees for you.

X= X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

If you think Lara doesn’t have muscles, I need you to be fucking for real. Now, no Abby Anderson type shit but her physique is still very visible even when not flexing. Therefore if you broach the topic of riding her abs, you’re not getting a no.

Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When Lara comes back from her explorations, for a solid 2 days, you guys are not leaving the bed. It doesn’t matter how long she was gone for, she missed you and needs that physical reconnection.

Any other time, even just a simple kiss will often lead to a heavy make out/grinding session. She’ll softly plead to go to the bedroom and when Lara looks at you with those pretty brown eyes, you agree without a second thought.

Z= Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

Once you both are all nice and clean, cuddled up on the warm bed, it doesn’t take long for Lara to fall asleep. After sex, I can see her usually being the little spoon. And if your fingers glide through her loose waves, Lara’s out within 5 minutes.

[xx-vamp1r3-k1ss3s-xx]

✨️ 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT ✨️

welcome to my bakery!

🧁moots and followers🧁

🍪 give me a character (from my intro) and I will make a headcanon for them

🥧 give me a fact about yourself, and I will assign you a baked good

🥐 I will make a (short) spotify playlist based on a character you give me (from one of my fandoms)

🥖 I will make a moodboard based on your blog

🍩 moots 🍩

🥯 I will tell you what kind of bagel you are ( @your-local-starstruck-dreamer s idea)

🍞 I will assign you a song you remind me of

🥨 give me some picrews of you, and I will fancast you (i stole this i wont lie)

tagging some of my mutuals: @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops @woods3115 @fictionalsimp09 @marauding-almond @moonandstarshangoutinbars @forensic-b1tch-aiden @mairon-goth-minion @cool-lesbian-is-here @hawaiianshirttaco64 @starkissed-mars @starkayezer @l0s3rb0y-hesfckingdead @neekstheanxiouscat @a-chance-of-raine @r4violli @narcissus10191 @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @circe-but-betterr @just-some-loserloverboy @jar-of-jam @turtlesinatree @icrytomyownpoetry @b3lls-the-roach @abs0l3m @hawthornewhore @dont-turn-left @kayylivesinchaos @percyweasleyapologist @garden-of-runar @sparky4577 @chains4w-gutzfuckk @blueberry0409 @toad-mp3

intro

[generalluxun]

Half-Baked, An ML fanfiction.

So this comes out of my 'Chloe goes back in time' AU. set after she's stolen the black cat Miraculous, but before the repercussions of that have really gone full swing.

This AU came about mostly from asks, so the tag can be searched on my blog for getting up to date on our collective ramblings for it.

Super short Summary: Post S5 Chloe goes back in time into her Origins-timeframe body. She is angry at everyone and everything. She gets herself akumatized early on and steals the Cat Miraculous from Cat Noir(who wasn't taking things seriously, it's S1) Seeing it's Adrien she freaks, breaks akumatization and runs off before Ladybug arrives. Adrien is keeping who stole it a secret(though he tells LB he lost it) hoping he can get it back himself to make up for losing it.

Fic is under the cut because it is 4172 words. I'll also be posting it on AO3 tomorrow.

With the smell of fresh baked goodies taunting her nostrils, Marinette dodged between racks laden with hot trays and mixing bowls of fresh dough. She was already late for school, but seeing her parents frantically running around made her pause.

“Dad?”

Tom flashed her a big smile but immediately turned and fled into the back. Her mother turned from where she was scooping still-warm pastries off cooling trays and into boxes too soon. “Honey, your father and I are very busy today. A large catering order came in unexpectedly. It was extremely short notice, but you know your father.”

Marinette couldn’t help but puff up a little, “It’s the Egyptian opening at the Lourve, right?”

Sabine paused. “Why, yes honey. How did you-”

Marinette gushed, “I knew dad was bummed about missing out on it, so yesterday I took a few freshly baked pastries over to the museum before school. I managed to find a way back to the curator’s offices and wouldn’t leave until he tried one. You should have seen the look on his face! ‘Young lady I think that is the best confection I have ever tasted.’ It looks like it was worth being an hour late.”

Marinette froze mid-pantomime. Her story had run away with her again, perhaps to a few places her mother didn’t exactly need to know.

Whatever Sabine’s thoughts, she kept a gently serene face. “That’s… very clever dear. Only… perhaps you could ask before helping next time? This really is such short notice.”

Marinette winced. “Is it really? I could help! I can just call in sick, then I would be able to-”

Rushing back towards the kitchen, Marinette snagged her foot on one of the giant mixing bowls. She tripped and collapsed into it as it spun, coming to rest blinking up into her mother’s even more concerned looking face. Sabine reached down and helped Marinette extract herself, brushing some wayward flour dust off her backside.

“No, no, that’s quite alright, dear. Your father and I will handle it. It’s not as if sleep is necessary every night. On your way now. You don’t want to be late, again.”

That last word carried the only hint of maternal reprimand, but it was enough. Marinette let herself be ushered out the door. On the way to school she managed to convince herself everything would be okay. It would be fine. It wasn’t the end of the-

The Agreste Limo pulled up in front of the steps to the school, and ‘end of the world' took on new meaning. Adrien got out, but his walk up the steps had none of its usual spring. Even knowing the truth, it was hard for Marinette to overlap the image of him with Cat Noir. Hard, and maybe a moot point.

Marinette shook herself. No. Not a moot point. We will get the ring back. I will get it back. Anyone can make a mistake. She hop-stepped to catch up with Adrien and gave him her biggest smile, “Morning, Adrien!”

He might not know it, but he’d helped her become Ladybug. Now it was up to her to return the favor.

------------------------------------------------

Time was not on Marinette’s side though. Not even half the day had gone by when the school shook as if in an earthquake. Sirens sounded in the distance. Alya had her phone open to a news cast before anyone else even had theirs out.

“-eaking News. A giant man…monster…thing… has once again been sighted in downtown Paris. Police are on their way, but as we approach the presumed akuma I have to wonder, what can they hope to do? Will Ladybug and Cat Noir show up once again to save our fair city?”

Nadja’s voice rose clearly from the tiny screen. Marinette couldn’t make out the akuma clearly as the helicopter circled though. All at once the helicopter lurched.

Nadja turned to ask someone off screen, “What’s that smell?”

The camera jostled, the helicopter lurched again, and the image went dark.

Marinette jumped up, “We have to do something!”

“Do something?” Kim blurted out from the back before anyone else. “Ivan got turned into a giant monster and almost turned half the class into crepes! What are you gonna do? …No offense big guy.”

Marinette heard Ivan mumble something even as she watched Adrien’s shoulders slump in front of her. She had to think fast. “What am I gonna do? I’m gonna go to the bathroom! Can’t think on a full bladder, right? Haha. Ms. Bustier can I go please?”

Another rumble shook the entire classroom.

Nino scrambled to his feet, “It sounds like there won’t be a bathroom to go to pretty soon.”

Ms Bustier raised her voice clearly but gently, “Alright class, everyone out. We rendezvous at the park. Stay with your seatmates.”

Sorry Alya. Marinette bolted for the door.

It wasn’t until she set eyes on the akuma that Ladybug’s forebrain took control back from her reflexes. Fear grabbed ahold of her and queasiness dropped her on unsteady legs on the nearest rooftop. The akuma was huge, topping even stoneheart. It was visible head and shoulders above the rowhouses. The only saving grace was a strange familiarity. It was dressed like a baker, complete with toque on its head and giant wooden peel in its hands.

The combination of silliness and fear forced a nervous giggle from her lips. The giggle reminded her that she was alone this time, her partner couldn’t help her. That sealed her lips once more with fear. It’s all up to me, alone.

Doomsday scenarios pressed into her thoughts even as the akuma strode on in the distance. What’s its power? Why is it here? What is the item? Where is it go-

Ladybug’s brain did the math and drew the line from the akuma right through the school towards… Our bakery!

She was in motion instantly, vaulting two streets closer. She was crouched for another leap when her senses shoved another fact through her emotions. Screams.

Screams weren’t surprising, but the tone was wrong. The akuma swung its peel and something scattered below it. If only for a cat’s sight. Screams of fear turned to joy then fell silent.

Ladybug balked again. She had to think. Emotion wanted her to act, but she couldn’t afford to be wrong. How close could she get? The akuma moved on and she followed from a distance, trying to pick up any clues she could. How close is too close? The akuma plowed through a building in its way. More screams of fear, a swing of its peel and fear turned to joy then silence again.

She needed to get closer. But-

Ladybug was stuck.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Go away!” Chloé stalked across the square, away from the class.

Sabrina trotted after her. “But, Chloé… we’re seatmates! We’re supposed to stick together.”

Chloé spun around and screamed, “Stick together? Is that what you call it? You sure didn’t stick with me when I needed it! Save me the trouble and go play with your new friends right now. Go!”

She jabbed a finger over Sabrina’s shoulder, but didn’t wait to see the results of her outburst. Her stomach felt hollow and sick. Her fingers tingled and her eyes itched. She wanted to scream until she ran out of air, but that hadn’t done any good before.  So instead she was getting away from the others as fast as she could. Chloé jogged across the street from the park and was around a corner in seconds. Sabrina didn’t call after her again.

For some stupid reason that made the sickness in her stomach worse.

Chloé stalked blindly, immune to the cracking of masonry and the heavy tread that threatened to knock her off her feet. Out of her tunnel vision a single figure resolved in the distance. Red, spotted, standing still on a rooftop. Ladybug.

She was just…standing there. The crunch of another building rang out but the hero didn’t move. “DO SOMETHING!” Chloé howled at her, unheard.

She hated Ladybug. Ladybug was lame. Ladybug was a loser. Ladybug was a failure. Ladybug was a traitor. Ladybug… was a hero. Ladybug was supposed to be saving the day. The thoughts rattled around and fought until Chloé squeezed her eyes shut and dug her nails into her hair in frustration.

With a sudden clarity Chloé’s eyes snapped open again. She whipped a hand around in front of her. “You! Come out now!”

The black cat kwami sparked into existence, anger evident on his tiny features.

“Tell me how to transform!” she demanded.

He crossed his arms smugly and replied, “hmmm Mm mffm Hmm.”

Chloé growled, “Talk! You can talk! Tell me!”

The Kwami gasped but still grinned, “That’s the one thing you can’t order me to do, Miraculous or no.”

“Rrraaaaaggh!” Chloé pointed at the distant Ladybug, “She’s not doing anything. Tell me the password or we’re doomed!”

Plagg crossed his little arms, “Give me back to my rightful holder, and she’ll have a partner again.”

Chloé stomped her foot, “No! I can do this! I know what to do better than any of them do right now! I’m the hero!”

Pagg seemed unimpressed. He rolled his eyes,”You? Nobody would make you a hero. What would you even do with a miraculous?”

Chloé's world narrowed again,to a haze of red with a floating black blob in the center. She advanced on him, “I’ll cataclysm the stupid  akuma. I’ll cataclysm stupid Hawkmoth. I’ll cataclysm everyone and everything that gets in my way. No one will take you away and nothing will stop me this time.”

She was seething. Memories of disappointment, failure, and humiliation broke down into the core emotions and blended into a hateful spiral. She waited for the next barb to come, but instead Plagg’s green eyes turned towards her with a spark of devilish curiosity in them.

“Really?” he drew the word out, “That just might be interesting to see.” One fingerless hand thrust at her face. “Don’t think I’m out of tricks though. You just watch yourself.  It’s ‘Plagg, Claws out.’”

Emotion spoke before thought could form, “Plagg, Claws out!”

----------------------------------------------------------

The akuma waded through the remains of the school and Ladybug knew she had to act. The bakery was at hand, and though she couldn’t see from back here, she could just imagine her father standing out front with a rolling pin. She still didn’t have a plan. She hadn’t risked getting close enough to get a good look. It had seemed prudent, but a nagging voice whispered she might just be too scared on her own. Had Cat No- Adrien been brave enough for both of them?

She tensed for a leap, but a sound like a thunderbolt stopped her. A black blur streaked at the akuma. It struck clean, staggering the giant, and clung before scuttling across the akuma’s bulk.

Ladybug was airborne before she had time to doubt. The blur had resolved into a person, a cat person. Her foolish heart leapt for a moment at the impossible idea her partner might have returned. No- it wasn't him. This person darted and leapt from point to point, tearing at the akuma. Buttons, hat, pockets were all ripped and torn. The akuma reeled and swatted at the attacker. One meaty hand connected and sent the black-clad fighter into the pavement in an impressive crater. Ladybug didn’t even have time to gasp before the fighter leapt from the cracked road and was back in the fight.

Ladybug landed, still one block away. In part she was still gathering information, in part she wasn’t sure how to engage with that black buzzsaw in motion. She had time now, her partn-

The other fighter was buying her time.

Ladybug was still trying to understand the ferocity of the assault. The -Ladybug mentally decided on cat hero just to organize her thoughts- was fended off time and again, taking blows that had to hurt. They were -she was- was relentless though, rebounding from being knocked clean through nearby buildings.The akuma’s apron fluttered to the ground like a torn parachute.

It clicked, akumatized object!, just as the akuma found space to swing its bakery peel. This time Ladybug could discern pastries showering down from the end of it. The cat hero was crouched for another leap but instead raised her head and sniffed the air. She reoriented herself and pounced… the confections.

Ladybug had her info. She raised her yo-yo, “Lucky Charm!”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell was irresistible. Chloé dove at the showering pastries, and she wasn’t the only one. Civilians swarmed out from everywhere, her classmates among them. Each and every one scrambled for the treats. There was no stopping it. Chloé bit down on a tart even as she scooped up half a dozen croissants. That she was aware of the compulsion made it worse. She growled around oozing jam and ground her teeth on buttery crust.

The too familiar feeling of helplessness was poison in her veins. Control, she needed to have some kind of control. She couldn’t stop so she pushed in the other direction. She crammed her mouth full until her jaw ached and she could barely breathe. It worked! She had a muffin in each hand but she could move freely again.

She launched herself at the akuma again.

A patch, no. A giant thermometer, no. She broke and broke. The muffins were goo, smashed against her palms. She couldn’t breathe but she wouldn’t stop.

Wouldn’t. Did. She bent double while crouching for another jump. Trying to inhale had dragged a chunk of her food-muzzle into her throat. She choked, coughed, heaved, choked again, and gasped for air. Her stomach twisted around the magical treats she’d already swallowed and dropped her to her knees.

Ziiiiip *thwip*

She was wrapped in a too-familiar away, airborne, grabbed, thumped on the back. She was spun again, free, something was shoved up her nose. Her overstimulated senses finally managed to focus. Her vision focused. Ladybug stood before her, with a tissue box in hand and polkadot tissues up each nostril.

Chloé hissed, “What do you think you're doing?”

“Saving you!” Ladybug grabbed her arm, “What do you think you are doing?”

Chloé pulled free and snarled, “He’s got an akumatized item on him somewhere, I’ll find it.”

Ladybug reached for her, “Do you have any idea what it is?”

Chloé recoiled and scanned. The akuma had turned away from them. It looked over the Dupain-Cheng bakery of all things. A petty part of her wanted to let it smash the place. That part of her became one more thing to be angry at.

She bared her teeth over her shoulder. “No, but I’m not the kind of hero who stands around doing nothing.”

She vaulted away with a protest lost in her wake. She landed and jumped again, elation mixing with rage. Her claws scored the doughy skin on the back of the akuma’s neck, checking the downward bakery-dooming swing of his peel. He swung it at her instead, showering her with sugary bait that no longer had any power over her. Her mouth was open, panting as a part of her breathing. What next? She picked a target and broke it. Then another, and another.

“The peel! Destroy the peel!” Ladybug’s voice rang in her ears.

Ladybug was a loser and probably wrong, but that wooden peel sure was big and this sure would be fun… “Cataclysm!”

She met the akuma’s swing with an outstretched hand. A grove’s worth of wood turned to powder at her touch. The butterfly flew free.

*Thwip* -snap- Ladybug caught and purified it. The akuma shrank to a befuddled looking baker. Chloé stood victorious in the center of a wasteland of violence and destruction.

Elation beat out anger, for just a moment. She threw her head back, spread her arms and, “Raaaaaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhh!”

-------------------------------------------

The primal scream from right beside her made Ladybug cringe and fumble the lucky charm she had been about to toss into the air. Once she recovered herself the fact that the crisis had passed gave her a moment to actually evaluate her erstwhile companion. Evaluate, and remember that she was not a partner, she was a thief.

A ragged looking thief. Her blonde hair -did the cat miraculous make the user blonde?- was a voluminous mane down her back, bedecked with black metal hooks and barbs throughout. She turned post scream to give Ladybug a maniacal grin, revealing her needle-like fangs in place of incisors. Her heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one green, were feline as Cat Noir's had been, and her pupils were currently giant black moons swimming in color. 

“What are you looking at, Ladybum?” The thief drawled, raising the hand still dusted with cataclysm remains and flexing her fingers slowly.

Her gloved fingers ended in wicked looking black ‘claws’. She wore black leather, that much remained consistent too, but her V-neck collar was torn, not tailored.  Lastly, in place of Chat’s amusing belt-tail she had a razor thin wire wrapped around her waist with a heavy cat's paw pendant hanging from the end.

Ladybug narrowed her eyes, “You stole Cat Noir’s miraculous.”

The thief turned her hand, revealing the paw print ring with three toes left. “Finders keepers.”

Ladybug swapped hands and spun her yo-yo up, “Give it back.”

“No!” The thief lunged, catching Ladybug’s yo-yo mid-spin.

Ladybug countered, wrapping her line around the other girl’s arm ensnaring her. The thief’s other hand went for Ladybug’s neck. Ladybug blocked the lunge with the remaining length of her string, but the other girl’s palm pressed within scant centimeters. They were locked taut. Whoever gave ground would lose.

Those wild eyes were narrowed to slits. No akuma had ever scared Ladybug this badly. The anger melted from those features but the fingers still stretched for Ladybug’s throat. Ladybug felt a prick against her skin. “It has to be a pun, doesn’t it? Of course it does. Call me… Purrge. I’m going to turn Hawkmoth to dust, and anyone in my way.”

Ladybug strained. Her own anger fueled a push that took Purrge’s claws from her skin. “You’re crazy! I’m taking that ring back. You don’t deser-”

*Chirp* *chirp*

The overlapping sounds cut across the tension. Purrge’s eyes darted to Ladybug’s earrings. Ladybug’s were drawn to Purrge’s ring. Her mind raced. Has it been three or four?

Purrge’s lips curled into a sharp fanged grin, “You used yours first. You think you can take me down in time?”

Ladybug wanted to, oh she ached to, but there was more riding on this than personal satisfaction, but how to- A very slight easing of the pressure against her line; was it a ceasefire? Ladybug took a chance.

She pulled back, letting the line go slack. No claws cut off her breath. She didn’t wait. She scooped up the lucky charm and turned, “This isn’t over!  Miraculous Ladybugs!”

Ladybug tossed the charm even as she began her swing. Triumphant cackling bubbled up behind her. She didn’t look back. Paris rebuilt itself as Ladybug swung further away, seeking out a quiet spot and settling for behind a dumpster.

Marinette burst from the shadow of the dumpster at a run. If she got back quick enough maybe she could catch a glimpse. Maybe there would be a clue. Maybe she could get her partner back.

There wasn’t, and she couldn’t. Not yet at least. All that awaited her was the rest of the class. Alya almost knocked her over, grousing and shaking her by the shoulders while delivering a friendly but stern dressing down. At least she wasn’t the only one gone. Chloé had unsurprisingly run off and still wasn’t back. It took some of the heat off at least.

A few of the class, plus her parents, were gathered around a baker who sat head in hands on the curb. Marinette recognized him immediately, from even before the akuma. She scooted into the semi-circle.

“Mssr. Levure?”

He looked up in confusion.

Marinette gave him a guilty smile, “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

She saw surprise, anger, then guilt pass over his features.

She continued, “I’m sorry. I think I’m at least partly responsible for all this. I convinced the curator to switch bakeries. I just wanted to help my family… but I didn’t stop to think about how doing it this way would impact them, or you. I know my dad and he’ll run himself into the ground to do all this work. Not only that but our bakery will probably be closed so he can do it. All our other customers will suffer.”

Marinette looked at her parents, who watched her with proud curiosity. She looked back to Mssr. Levure.

“Maybe… both bakeries can share the catering? I’ll make signs. We can promote both and have an even better, more varied selection for our guests. Would that be okay?”

Marinette held her breath. Mssr. Levure, her dad, and her mom held one of those ‘glance and head tilt’ conversations adults so often did. Then he stood and brushed his hands off before holding one out to Tom. “A temporary partnership?”

Tom shook hands, smiling. “Done.”

A small cheer erupted from the half dozen onlookers, and Marinette had the satisfaction of righting at least one wrong today. Still, there was one other… She looked around and spotted Adrien sitting by himself.

“What a day huh?” She announced her presence.

She might be right next to him, but he was still sitting far apart. “Did you see? Ladybug’s got a new partner.”

“Partner?! Oh no no, that’s not what it looked like to me at all. More like a new enemy, or a stray cat, or an enemy cat, or a stray enemy. There’s no way Ladybug would just replace her partner.”

Adrien turned to face her for the first time. The hope on his face was heartbreaking. “You really think so?”

Marinette fidgeted. Instinct said he needed a hug, but, but… he was… and she was…  Nervous laughter bubbled up without warning, “Ha! Sure sure No way! Oh look! It’s Alya! No one knows Ladybug like her. She runs the Ladyblog! Why don’t we go ask her together? I’m sure she’ll know! Come on!”

She waved her arms frantically to signal Alya, kicking herself internally the entire time.

---------------------------------------------------

On a rooftop balcony nearby Purrge landed hard. What should have been a hero landing turned into a stumble, a stagger, and a few lurching steps. A flash of green enveloped her, then Chloé collapsed face first onto the pavement.

Plagg zipped in a wide loop through the air, “What a debut! I think you broke three whole blocks before Ladybug put it all back together. Crack! Boom! That was fun, and you still beat the akuma, so Master Fu can’t yell at me!”

Chloé’s persistently prone repose caught his attention.

“Kid? Kid?”

He floated over, sitting atop her head, no response.  He turned an ear down against her skull, then floated to her back to do the same.

“Tsk, You gotta let the timer run out when it wants to, kid. You’re still pretty small.”

This got a response. The fingers of one of Chloé’s hands curled into a white knuckled fist for the space of a breath before uncurling again.

Plagg hmphed.

A CCTV camera, set up for security footage but never watched, recorded something odd that day.  The blanket from Chloe’s bed lifted itself by a single point and dragged itself out to the balcony(after one of the balcony doors mysteriously rotted off its hinges) The blanket was spread haphazardly over the recumbent heiress.

A little later the trashcan in the suite tipped itself over, and trash began emptying itself onto the floor.

------------------------------------------------

“Master Please! Calm, Master! Here, your beads.” Wayzz hovered nervously with the prayer bracelet in his hands.

“Calm? Calm!” Master Fu paced between the gramophone that hid the miracle box and the small TV in his room. He would stare at the TV, then go reach for the gramophone, then pace back to the TV.

When he turned to Wayzz his face looked pained and afraid, not angry. He pointed at the TV, “How can I be calm when… that?!”

Frozen on the TV was a still frame of Ladybug and a Black Cat wielder who was obviously not Cat Noir, locked in a struggle.

“The Cat Miraculous is out there in an unknown holder’s hands. It could be in danger. The Ladybug could be in danger. If Hawkmoth were to get his hands on the Ladybug…”

He went back to the gramophone again and laid his hands atop it,

“We must get it back. We must be careful, but we cannot delay. Ladybug will need help in the meantime, someone she can rely on, a power that can aid her when there are so many variables in play.”

“Master, do you mean…?”

Fu keyed in the secret combination to open the antique player, and reached for the Miracle Box hidden within. “Yes Wayzz, him.”

[lillaydee]

In Time Part 12

Rancher Joel Miller / Reader

You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.

WARNINGS:

Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 11

---

Joel was at a loss; he was shocked by what was happening. One second, he was comforting his inconsolable ex, the next, her tongue was invading his throat, and she was aggressively grinding on his lap in the middle of the chow hall. He was torn between biting her tongue off, or just throwing her on the floor, risking deliberately harming a woman for the first time in his life.

But his thoughts were all moot.

Because the next thing he knew, she was pulled off him and thrown onto the floor by a very angry pair of hands.  

Cleo slid on the floor for a good few yards, shock written all over her face, magically no longer devastated at all, looking around for the powerful source that literally yanked her by the hair and waistband off of Joel before she found herself sliding on her ass. For a moment, she thought she should be looking for a big burly man. But no one fitting that description was anywhere near her, save for Joel who was still in shock on the chair she had pushed him into.

The only person standing near her was you.

The soft spoken, lady-like, would-never-harm-a-fly you.

You, who didn’t do anything when you found her naked at your boyfriend’s house.

She opened her mouth to shout at you, but the look in your eyes actually threw ice-cold daggers all over her insides.

You stood over her, advancing on her as you spoke, forcing her to shuffle backwards to get away from you. All the frustrations you had ever felt for this woman came pouring out of you like a faucet.

“I’ve had it with you trying to get your slutty paws all over my men. You already stole one man from me, and you want to steal another? You think you had it bad right now? You think you’re ashamed right now? You think you’re at your lowest now? You forget yourself, Cleo. I lived in Hollywood for over twenty years. I had top notch producers and directors and A-listers as neighbours and babysitters. I walked their dogs, I babysat their children, I made a living chopping their dogs’ balls off and curing their pets of cancer. One phone call to the right person, and you will know what being cancelled really means, Cleo. Get your ass off our floor and get the fuck out of here. If I so much as catch you breathing anywhere near my man, let alone put your filthy hands on him ever again, I will draw and quarter you myself. You understand me?”

She scrambled to her feet, opened the front door and ran off, not looking back.

It was like you floated out of your body and got snapped back into it.

You were standing in front of the main door.

How the fuck did you get there?

You turned around and walked back into the chow hall, your stomach rumbling.

You were met with many pairs of eyes staring at you.

“Well,” Mrs Adler said, “looks like we don’t need a guard dog after all.”

“Damn, Doc,” Tommy said. “The hell did you find the energy to pull her off like that?”

“She pulls calves and foals off of cows and horses. One malnourished D-lister? No problem!” Frank chimed in, eating his lunch as if nothing just happened.

You picked up a plate and began piling food in. Suddenly famished. Joel joined you, an amazed look on his face.

“Well, that was… something. You okay darling?”

“Yeah. Course. I’m just hungry,” you said, suddenly horrified that this man just saw you hulk out.

You sat down, and began eating, doing your best to avoid eye contact with him. He placed a glass of water next to your plate and sat next to you.

“So, your man, huh?”

Oh God, he heard that.

You couldn’t look him in the eye. The She-Hulk had been unleashed, and she was more than content to go dormant again for a long, long time.

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You got up to your feet and put your hand out in front of him.

“Nope. You are not getting those lips anywhere near me until you have brushed your teeth at least ten times and gargled an entire bottle of mouthwash. Perhaps sanitize your mouth with alcohol too. I am not kissing you right after that.”

You shuddered at the thought.

He laughed and put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, She-Hulk,” he said, winking at you, retreating to his house to do just that.

You sat back down and continued eating. Tess and Maria joined you. Tess eyed you, impressed at what she just saw.

“You know, when I first met you, I thought, shit. She’s not going to last for long on a ranch. Too soft, too polite. Damn, I am proud to say I stand corrected.”

“Joel better watch it. Fierce, and chops balls for a living. Love it, sister,” Maria said with a grin.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. You honestly couldn’t believe you just did that.

Would it be wrong to be proud of yourself a little bit?

---

Not a week later, Maria called you to the office, a lawyer representing David and Cleo with her. The entire family was there. The lawyer brought in an NDA, trying to ensure that you and the family wouldn’t be exposing his clients’ unfortunate past mistakes, ailments, misbehaviours and misfortunes to anyone. In exchange, they will keep all your identities secret and never bother you again, and Cleo would not be pressing charges on you for ‘attacking’ her, twice. He had even located ‘the source’ of the leak, and they had agreed to sign a document stating that they will not make any more statements regarding Sarah or her family, for a little incentive, of course, paid for by Mr Landon himself.

Maria, ever the lawyer, made sure the documents were iron clad, the family’s privacy must be protected at all costs. She advised you that if you declined to sign, the whole family will back you up, and she will personally make sure any lawsuits Cleo threw at you will be thrown out, but the document was legit now, and she and David will have no choice but to leave you and the entire family alone. Only once everything was to her satisfaction did everyone, yourself included, sign the document.

---

Of course, the world was not always fair. Cleo and David got back together, putting on a strong front, although you suspected they were only doing it for show. They never announced their supposed split, so pictures of them holding hands were everywhere, looking all loved up and happy. Cleo appeared on some talk show, talking about PPD, and her ‘experiences’ being affected by it, a supposed ‘expert’ supporting her claims. And then, of course, she put on the waterworks about how much she had been punished, her child taken way too early, and how she had found God, and hoped to see her in the Pearly Gates. Her fans ate it all up, loving her bravery for coming forward amidst all the criticism thrown at her.

No one showed those clips to Joel, naturally.

David suddenly was an inspiration to younger men with ED everywhere, talking about his problems on national TV before endorsing little blue pills for men like him. The couple appeared together promoting their show, claiming that they had married in an intimate ceremony, just close family and friends, which you suspect was a lie too. Their strategy seemed to work. People seemed to love them still.

Although, their show was cancelled pretty much immediately. Funny, that.

You didn’t hear of see much of them after. Last you heard from your friends in LA, Cleo was seen walking dogs and working at the pet saloon now. David had taken up teaching acting to aspiring actors. They were definitely no longer together though, never seen together again after that interview. Apparently, the offers dried up. Shame. Such a fickle industry.

---

The day after the lawyer came in, Tommy drove you and Joel to town to pick up your new secondhand car. You were very excited. Tommy dropped you two at the dealership, before leaving to run his errands. Joel stood in front of your new car, an incredulous look on his face.

“This is what you bought?”

You nodded excitedly, and unlocked your new car, only a few years old, practically brand new. You got in and watched as Joel struggled to get his huge frame into the passenger seat of the Mini Cooper you just bought. His grumpy face was back on as you drove the little car back to the ranch, his head bumping on the roof several times as the car bounced off the gravelly road to his house.

When you’d arrived, you gave him an excited look, and asked him what he thought of your new car. He responded by pulling you onto his lap, which ended with you bumping your head on the roof. Okay, maybe this was a bad idea, frowning a little, upset that making out in this car was near impossible with your hunk of a boyfriend. He kissed you on your nose with a small laugh, telling you he loved your car, but maybe let’s go inside?

After a bit of a struggle (for him) getting out, he dragged you into his house, and carried you straight upstairs. He began to pull your clothes off before you even got up the stairs, his lips on your body, never leaving it for a second as your bodies get all tangled up together in his bed, filthy moans and whimpers filling the room, before the two of you lay sated in each other’s arms.

“You really don’t like my car?” you asked him.

“I love it, but maybe we’ll take my truck if we go out okay? I think I’m in great danger of a concussion if I ride in that car too often.”

You smacked him on his bare chest playfully.

“It’s not for long. It’s already June. My contract runs out in November.”

He stilled.

“Do you really want to leave?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. How do you tell him that you wanted to stay more than anything, but it was up to him? This was his territory. His life. His family. He hadn’t dated anyone since Cleo, and that, to you, meant that you had no right to set the rules of this relationship. You couldn’t just decide to stay, even if you could afford to without the job. You two had been seeing each other for what? A month? Bit too soon to be making life altering decisions, no? Sure, you were crazy in love with him, but technically, you were still in the getting to know each other stage.

“It’s not up to me, Joel.”

“Where would you go if you leave?”

“I dunno. Back to England? Travel? I really don’t know.”

“Then stay, please.”

“Joel…”

“No, I’m serious. Stay.”

“When Peter comes back, what would be the point of staying? I can’t stay and take up his business, his livelihood. But I can’t stay just being your… whatever this is. We haven’t even decided what we are, it’s been a month!”

“I want to be with you. If you decide to leave, I will leave with you. Whatever you want. But please, think about it. Stay, stay here, with me. Please…”

Your lips involuntarily curled into a smile, happy to know he wanted you to stay.

“I’ll think about it.”

He kissed you; muttering thank you over and over.

“But we will still take my truck when we go out.”

“Okay.”

He stopped kissing you.

“Okay? Okay you’ll stay or okay we’ll take the truck if we go out?”

You didn’t answer, just pulled him back down for another kiss, one that didn’t stop for hours.

---

He picked you up at home, dressed in his best flannel and jeans. You asked him, yet again, if he was sure he wanted to do this? He was, he said. He needed to.

The drive over was silent. He had insisted that you sit right next to him rather than across the bench seat, he needed to feel you pressed up to him. You kept your head on his shoulder as he drove, your hand on his leg, occasionally stroking his arms as he let go of the steering wheel to take your hand in his. He was nervous, you could tell. And you couldn’t blame him, you would be too.

He parked in the lot designated for family for the day. The family was already there, he hadn’t decided to go until the last minute. You had called Tess when he decided to take the leap, and they had waited for the two of you in the parking lot.

All of you walked hand in hand towards the store. A tent had been erected right out front, the pictures of those who lost their lives three years ago stood at the front, their families sat in the front row.

It was a beautiful service. Representatives of the families spoke about the people they’d lost, spoke of grief, of hope, of courage. Anita spoke on behalf of the family for Sarah, and Ellie spoke for Annie, Joel’s hand on yours the entire time.

After, he and Ellie went up front, placing flowers underneath the pictures of their lost loves, holding hands, followed by a long hug. It warmed your heart to see them like that; they had come a long way, even in your short time there. You couldn’t imagine them any other way. Their evenings spent riding together, Ellie joking around with Joel, endlessly teasing him for being old. He acted annoyed, but it was clear to anyone who saw them together how much he loved her.

The entire family visited the cemetery next, Ellie officially introducing you to her mom, telling her what a kick-ass vet you were. She had been disappointed to miss the throwdown with Cleo, claiming she would have paid good money to have seen that.

When you got back in the truck after, you asked him if he was okay.

“Surprisingly, yeah. I thought I was going to cry, completely lose my mind, but I guess, talking to her every night made it feel as if she was still around, you know? It felt like she’s gone, but still with me.”

You could only nod. You could relate to that. Talking to your parents and Benny had kept you sane, so to speak. It felt good to know that it had done the same for him.

Everyone stopped at the Bison for dinner that evening, you a bit apprehensive to see Angela again. But she was nowhere to be seen. Andy told you that she had quit a couple of months ago, no idea where she disappeared to. Tess might have suggested that maybe she was making full use of a windfall she may have gotten. People in the village knew it was her to leaked the entire David-Cleo thing. Rumour was, she got away with more than a million dollars to her name.

“Well, at least I can come work here when Peter comes back. I’d go crazy sitting at home waiting for this one to come home from being fawned on by tourists and the mysterious surge of ladies who had signed up for horse riding lessons if I don’t have a job,” you said, laying your head on Joel’s shoulder.

“You’re staying? Even if Pete comes back?” Ellie squealed.

You shrugged. “Where else am I gonna go?”

Joel turned to look at you, asking you if you were sure. When you nodded, he pulled you in for a kiss, which earned an “Eww… get a room old man… I don’t know how you could let him kiss you like that Doc…” from Ellie.

Joel got up and pulled you with him, tossing some cash on the table before taking you outside and into his truck. You pressed yourself up to him, ready for the drive home, but he turned and pushed you onto your back, devouring your mouth as if he would starve without kissing you, his hands roaming all over your body, his mouth travelling to your ears, your neck, your chest, before ripping your panties off and unbuckling his belt. He searched in the console for a bit, tore open the packet he found, and the next thing you knew, the top of your dress was pushed down, you were screaming his name, your legs locked around his waist, his mouth on your nipples as he rocked himself into you over and over until the both of you stilled, mouths opened in silent screams before shuddering uncontrollably, breaths quivering, hands holding each other tight, not wanting to separate, ever.

“You’re really staying?”

“Mm hmm… I’m really staying.”

The grin he gave made him look sixteen again. He kissed you long and sweet, happy that he would get to do this for the rest of his life.

A knock on the passenger door jolted the both of you out of your rendezvous, Tommy stood with his back to the truck, warning the two of you to leave before everyone else comes out. Tess will have your heads if Ellie saw you two like that.

Joel thanked him, the two of you got dressed quickly and drove home. Joel reminded you that THAT was a good reason to use his truck whenever you two go out. You smacked him on his chest before cuddling up to him, sighing contentedly.

Joel made love to you again and again that night, his heart too full of you, wanting to show you over and over how appreciative he was that you’d decided to stay. As you were starting to doze off in his arms, he told you he loved you.

Sleep became the last thing on your mind after that.

---

You were sitting in Maria’s hospital room, her brand-new baby boy in your arms, Ellie cooing at him, her head on your shoulder. Oh, you were so in love with him already. Thank God you decided to stay. When you thought about it, saying goodbye to Joel wasn’t the only thing making leaving difficult. You couldn’t imagine not seeing these people every day anymore. And now, this dashing young thing arrived, and completely stole your heart.

“You are so cute, yes you are, yes you are, you are so cute I’m gonna kidnap you every day and put you in my little pocket!” you cooed at him, while Ellie giggled in your ear.

Joel sat at the other end of the room with his brother, watching you coo over his nephew. Oh shit. You’re a natural. Something about you holding a baby stirred something in him. You pregnant with his child. Him, talking to your belly at night.  Now, that’s an image he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how many times he shook it clear. God, Joel. It’s only been a couple of months. Chill. Take it slow.

He came over and took his nephew from you, much to your chagrin. He started speaking to him in his low, low voice, telling him he would spoil the living shit out of him, that he would want for nothing. Come to Uncle Joel if your daddy gives you grief, huh?

You sat in your chair, watching him coo over his nephew. Oh shit. He’s a natural. Something about him holding a baby stirred something in you. You, pregnant with his child. Him, talking to your belly at night. Now, that’s an image you couldn’t get out of your head, no matter how many times you shook it clear. God, Amelia. It’s only been a couple of months. Chill. Take it slow.

---

When August came, Peter called. He had reconnected with his childhood sweetheart while back home. He was giving his three months’ notice. Looked like you were really staying now, and Joel’s hidden worry that you would be working with Andy every day dissolved.

You were happy to keep working, your only problem being the many, many swarms of buzzing ladies who kept fawning over Joel during those touristy things. Shameless women crooning at him, telling him to teach them how to ride properly, calling him the BDE rancher, asking you to give them his number, wondering out loud how you could stand to work with someone that hot every day.

Joel shut them up, though, going out of his way to get close to you any chance he got, kissing you sweetly, telling them in not so many words that he was happily taken. And apparently, there was a new rule now, there was strictly no separating from your group if you were on one of those tours. Word was, an email the resident vet had received from a certain Italian vet asking for advice on force birthing a cow had the owner in a tizzy, convinced that ‘ciao’ had a hidden meaning somewhere.

No matter, when all was said and done, when the tourists had gone home, the two of you came home to each other, and the next morning, kissed each other goodbye, matching thermoses in your hands, filled with drinks made by each other, for the other.

---

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

You took his hand, and he led you at a leisurely pace towards the Benny place. It’s still your favourite place to go on the ranch. As you got nearer, he stopped you, and covered your eyes with his hand. He carefully guided you to where he wanted you to stand for the big reveal.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He took his hand off, and you blinked several times, before seeing a brand-new giant hammock tied between the two oak trees.

You squealed, hugged him so tight, whispered thank you over and over, kissing him all over his face, getting lipstick everywhere.

You ran to the hammock, calling for him to join you. You made him stand on the other side and told him how important it was to get this right. You cannot afford to topple over today. He nodded, putting on his focused face.

You asked him to follow your movements, exactly. With some difficulty on your part, the two of you managed to climb on, before the hammock tilted dangerously towards his side, him being a lot heavier than you. He quickly adjusted, going towards the middle, and caught you before you could fly off it. You fell half on his body, laughing hysterically, remembering all the times you fell off it at Benny’s. He wrapped his arm around your body, his other hand behind his head. You wrapped your leg over his, your head on his chest.

“Do you remember the first time I brought you here?”

Hmm… you replied. Remembering the first Christmas you spent with him.

“That was the night you healed me.”

You looked up at him, confusion on your face.

“I talked to Sarah for the first time that night. And everything just… fell off my shoulders. Woke up feeling lighter, happier, like I could move on. Like I would be okay. And it was all because of what you said to me, that night, here.”

You couldn’t speak, remembering what he was like back then. Hidden in his shell.

“I was so angry at everything, everyone. And now, look at me.”

He kissed you on your temple, long and deliberate.

“It just takes time to heal, that’s all. I’m glad I’m here to enjoy this wonderful man you have become.”

He turned towards you, placing his fingers under your chin, making sure your eyes were on his.

“It wasn’t time that did it, darling.”

And he kissed you, like it was the first time, like it was the last time. This man you fell in love with, the love of your life.

“Oh, my God, I knew it! I found them, guys! Really? Again?”

The family came rushing towards the Benny place, Ellie leading, having found you after the two of you disappeared, yet again. Tommy arrived in Joel’s ratty old truck, freshly washed for the occasion.

Joel groaned at the interruption but conceded that you should probably get going. He gently helped you off the hammock. The two of you quickly said your goodbyes, hugging and kissing everyone, Joel escorting you to the passenger door and made to open it for you. You held up a hand at him and did the jiggle-push-pull combo with ease, and the door opened with a creak. Joel laughed out loud, and lifted you up, placing you in the cab, making sure your skirt and train were all in before closing the door for you.

He got in, kissed you, hard and true, and began driving.

The red, rusty, ratty, old beater of a truck with ‘Just Married’ sprayed across the bumper and cowbells tied across the back rattled onwards, flower petals and rice, along with joyous laughter and cheers from loved ones following in its wake.

---

Epilogue

[verdantlights]

Lullaby of Winter

ℙ 𝕀 ℝ 𝕆 𝕌 𝔼 𝕋 𝕋 𝔼

Aka "Pirou"

They/Them/He/Him, AMAB

...Human?

5'8.5" and 141 lbs

Owner is Venlyx

Brand is vertical down their left calf

Trivia

Obligatory figure skater oc because it's something I've always wanted to do since I was a wee lad.

They have the same owner as Everest and they're extremely close with her, considering common likes and dislikes. Being products of the same owner will do that, I suppose. They're a few years younger than Everest and they consider her to be an older sister.

They're admitted into ANAKT at the same time as Everest, but due to their age, they're in separate classes.

Everest wins Season 36 as Pirou is still training for his own season. He was set to participate in Season 40 with Toki and Clove.

He does NOT participate in Season 40, obviously, as something happens beforehand (that'll be a separate backstory/lore post). They're now set to participate in Season 41.

His 'elf' ears are based off of Venlyx' fascination with Old Earth folklore and fairy tales. She modified Pirou's gene pool quite a bit and gave him those ears as well as a tail. Both are extremely expressive similar to Ichor. (if i had a nickel for how many ocs i have with a tail, id have 2 nickels. which isnt a lot but its weird that i have 2.)

Pirou was very weak as a child, and so Venlyx put them into figure skating to build strength, balance, and flexibility. It worked a lot better than anticipated and Pirou grew to fall in love with skating. His home was on ice and it was one of their only comforts.

Is pretty obedient and stays in line more often than not. They're aloof, gullible, and extremely shy. They don't like approaching people or crowds and prefer to let people approach them and befriend them. However, when you get to know them, they can get a bit talkative and is actually super sweet and kind!

Fluent in French. According to the gene pool, he is Korean and French.

His preferred singing style is more lullabies and humming. There's a lot of lyric-less songs he's orchestrated. He plays classical instruments with guidance from Venlyx.

Epitome of grace and elegance I fear.

Other:

Plip said they wanted to make a boyfailure for Pirou, so it's possible Pirou will have a love interest, that may change tho idk

Friends with Clove, Ichor, Everest, Rine, Memento, Plips future boyfailure i think

Their ears flick. Like a cat. car. beautiful car with homophobia

Named after. well. a pirouette which is... a spin in figure skating.

they kinda just spawned into my head a super long time ago after i listened to shatter me by lindsey stirling for the first time in like years of forgetting about it lmao

a bit of a diva when on ice ngl

something something yuri on ice

there is a LOT of heavy inspo from Indila (french song artist) hence the fact theyre fluent in french and are half french/european

if you notice that i stole yuzuru hanyus height, weight, birthday, and in the future his outfits for pirou, no you dont.

use they/them as much as possible, he/him is only there because originally they did use he/him and were transmasc, but i switched it to amab nonbinary and now were at amab demiboy,,,, mostly nonbinary than boy. in reality they dont really care all too much about their gender, but they find the most comfort in androgyny.

they like boys. and is also achillean

heart emoji i love you guys ill post more later

tags by oc/name mention: plip @awaggaa , rine @apple8ees , and memento @rockwgooglyeyes

other tags: @alien-til-i-stage @bluemoonscape @ivanttakethis @chevalperd @apriciticreveries @starry-skiez @friedclownshrimp @nottoonedin @yunoftheclouds @subzeromoron @messengers-of-the-gods @junebluues

hands on needs out of breath okay i think thats enough,,,,, i pinged a few new people i usually dont so if you dont want to be on my taglist just lmk, i just love you guys my moot friends (tism emoji)