#tango: writing process

[kikiiswashere]

Four to Tango

As promised, part two of Waltzing for Three!!!

Thank you for helping me reach 200 followers for this little ol' blog of mine 🥰 And welcome to all the newcomers!

The idea for this ficlet was born of watching my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable help out a pregnant friend by lifting her belly off her hips, and it just sort of spiraled from there.

It's also worth noting that I myself am not a mother, nor have I given birth, nor do I wish to be a mom (husband got the ol' snip-snip). So why this fic? Good question 😅

That being said, I did my best to write about the labor process relatively accurately without getting into the super nitty-gritty of it 😂 So, please enjoy this weird little fever-dream of a fic, and please comment and reblog 💗

Tags for the interested parties: @luhmoon, @legendaryflowercheesecake, @thebeserkvernid, @miffysoo

Pairing: Established Silco x AFAB!Reader

Rating: Teen/Mature (brief reference to oral sex)

CW: Non-graphic descriptions of pregnancy and labor

Insistent cramping had woken you up in the wee-hours one morning, swelling and ebbing in a slow rhythm that sent your heart tapping, a loop of nerves coiling around your gut – little room that there was for it.

Silco had been a terribly light sleeper ever since Vander’s betrayal, ever since those early years on an under-tested Shimmer variant that left his brain unable to fully settle. So, the moment you shifted into a sitting position, he shot up as well.

“What’s wrong?”

Words got gummed up on fear and excitement in your mouth. There was a slight tremor in your fingers as they grazed over your belly. You had noticed it sitting even lower on your hips these past several days. While you were very done with being pregnant, you were still nervous and surprised to say –

“I think it’s time.”

With comical amounts of speed, but awe-inspiring grace, Silco flung himself from the bed, divesting himself of his eyepatch and pajamas. After changing into a simple set of trousers and an old button-up shirt, he fetched the stopwatch Jinx had invented to easily time your contractions, and wrote a tube prompting your midwife that she was needed. It had been decided early on that the babe’s delivery – barring any complications – would happen at The Last Drop. You, nor Silco, were willing to venture outside to a clinic when your family would be at its most vulnerable.

Too nervous to lay down, much less fall back asleep, you began pacing the large bedroom in your large sleep shirt. Every time a contraction locked up and spasmed through your lower belly and back, your fingers pressed the stopwatch’s clicker. And you breathed as the midwife had instructed. Silco kept you company, walking with you up and down the length of the bedroom, holding your hand and becoming an anchor to squeeze when contractions rolled through. Together, you both noted and kept track of their intervals. Their spacing  and length suggested that the little one’s arrival was not imminent, but the consistency indicated that this was indeed labor.

The midwife arrived, ushered in by a half-asleep Sevika. You’d bribed her with an absurd bonus and several pre-paid sessions at Babette’s for her to crash in one of the Drop’s private guest rooms during these last days of your pregnancy. She was needed for security, and to stand-in for Silco when his attention and priorities would be elsewhere.

“Good luck,” she’d grumbled, barely glancing at you before shutting the bedroom door, and trudging back down the hall.

The midwife was a petite, wizened Vastaya who’d been selected for her services not only because of her field prowess, but because she was staunch loyalist to you and Silco. Shimmer had helped save more than one of her clients when the birthing process had begun to go sideways, and that was enough for her to hitch her wagon to your agenda.

She was also direct to the point of rudeness – a personality trait that was wholly welcome given the slippery, hidden, self-serving rhetoric you were used to having to deal with.

“Time?” she asked, setting her medical bag down on your dresser with a heavy thunk.

“Forty-five seconds to a minute, about every seven minutes,” you answered. Then gasped and doubled over as another contraction bent you.

The midwife hummed. “How long?”

“About an hour,” Silco said. He squeezed back at your hand as you rode out the current wave rolling through.

Clucking her tongue, the midwife shook her head, long ears slapping lightly against her horns.

“Early.”

Silco frowned. “You are being more than thoroughly compensated to show up whenever we ask.”

“Indeed. To the bed, miss. Let’s have a look.”

Once your legs were freed from the lock of the contraction, you shuffled to the bed. Silco helped you into position, and the midwife closed in. Her fingers were warm, but the tools were cold. The combination, along with your nerves, caused your lungs to shudder.

“Five,” she declared, drawing her head from between your thighs.

“That’s halfway,” you chuckled weakly. Silco brushed his thumb over your knuckles

The midwife hummed in agreement. “True. But as discussed, this process is not linear. And being your first delivery, it is very likely this will take a while. How is the pain?”

“Fine. Manageable.” It came out as a grit, but she didn’t seem to doubt you.

“You should eat and drink while you can. Is there anything else you want or need right now?”

Together, you and Silco walked to the small kitchen in your private quarters. You rested your forearms on the counter as the length of your spine hammocked behind you, hips gently swishing side-to-side. Silco kept the breakfast blissfully simple: toast with a light slather of butter, and a mug of warmed water with lemon.

Eating was slow going. Between the jitters and contractions, your appetite was seriously curbed. When you finally made it to the second piece of toast, Jinx shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-headed. Her bedraggled demeanor did not last long though, as her whip-quick senses tuned into the energy of the space. Big, blue eyes tracked between Silco – unusually underdressed – and your strange posture. One could nearly hear the cogs in her head clicking and whirring.

“Is it time?!”

In a flash, she clambered onto the stool next to you, bright and tittering. Her exuberance washed over you in a relieving breeze. Reaching over, you ran a hand through her unkempt hair.

“Sure is, kiddo.”

“When will he be here?”

“Could be a while yet, Jinx,” Silco answered. He set a glass of juice in front of her. “What would you like? Toad-in-the-hole? Porridge? Pancakes?”

“Make ‘em have a face!” she crowed.

A hook of a smile pulled at Silco’s mouth as he turned back toward the stove.

Jinx settled onto the stool; legs kicking merrily beneath her as she sipped her juice.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like intense menstrual cramps.”

Her small face squished in a ponder. While you had had that conversation with her, Jinx had yet to broach into that aspect of puberty. Thus, she had no point of reference.

“Kinda like when you roof-run after eating, and your abs cramp up,” you offered. “Kind of.”

A contraction swelled upon you, and you grit your teeth, face pinching, head dropping. Silco stepped away from the stovetop, and placed a grounding hand between your shoulder blades. Jinx watched, eyes wide and worried. Timidly, she shifted toward you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.

The pain continued, but was temporarily numbed by the overwhelming love and gratitude for the two people on either side of you.

Your family.

It was never part of the plan when it came to your Silco’s ideas to lift Zaun up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And in a few hours, three would be four. Your heart beat big, tapping against your throat as the contraction passed. You clicked the stopwatch.

“That seems worse than roof-run cramps,” Jinx said suspiciously.

You chuffed. “Like I said: Kind of.”

Silco rubbed his hand up and down your spine a few times, before kissing your temple and returning to the stove.

“You remember what we talked about?” you asked Jinx.

She fiddled with her hair, nodding. “I can come and go as I please.”

“Right. If you want to be with us, I want you to be there. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. You get to decide, and it doesn’t have to be right now.”

Jinx nodded again, eyes staring into the middle-distance. Reaching over, you brushed your fingers through her hair again. Her eyes snapped back to yours.

“Are you scared?”

You gave her a reassuring smile.

“No. I’m happy.”

It wasn’t a lie. But a few hours later, your happiness was thoroughly overshadowed by the pain of labor. It was staggering how it had intensified. How it was becoming near non-stop as the space between contractions shortened and shortened. Gravity felt impossible to contend with on top of everything else, so you sank onto your bedroom floor with a low, guttural growl.

Silco had been attentive throughout, anticipating your needs before you even voiced them. Ever your anchor, your source for steadiness. Even now, on your hands and knees, his own wide palms settled onto your hips and pressed in. It pulled an appreciative groan from your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my love.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Your eyes flicked to the bathroom door where Jinx was helping the midwife prepare a warm bath. You were proud of your girl. Admittedly, part of you doubted she would choose to stick around once labor became loud and more intense. When you could no longer keep yourself from crying out, hesitancy had flickered in her eyes, and her brows pitched in concern. But instead of dashing away, she’d reached for your hand and held tight.

“Is there anything you can give her?” she’d asked the midwife incredulously.

The female had smirked, impressed and moved by the girl’s protectiveness of you.

“I have mild pain relievers, but nothing that will fully numb – “

“Shimmer?”

The midwife’s black lips thinned. “That is only to be used in emergencies,” she explained. “It is too potent and powerful to be used for anything other than the most extreme circumstances. Which – “her eyes looked up at your haggard form on the bed – “does not seem probable. Her labor is progressing as it should. There is nothing to worry about.”

Jinx frowned, doubtful, and hunkered closer to your side.

“Seems like a dumb design that it hurts so much.”

“Agreed,” you wheezed.

“Come,” the midwife said, “let’s check you.”

She declared you’d progressed to eight centimeters. That had been three hours ago. And the pain just continued to climb and build.

A small sob burst through your teeth. Silco knelt at your side, quietly saying your name.

“I’m scared, Sil,” you admitted in a whisper. You were thankful Jinx wasn’t near to hear you back-pedal. Your breath hitched and words tumbled out: “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He took your warm and tear-streaked face between his hands, and repeated your name.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, your tired and wet eyes focused on his face. He looked at you with fierce earnestness, thumbs sweeping across the apples of your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, part of you grieved that the baby would never know Silco without his scars. Or yours. Outside and in.

Silco called your name again.

“Look at me,” he repeated. Your eyes slid back to his. Blue and red pinned you in place. “You can do this. I’ve not met anyone more tenacious, nor strong, nor as spirited as you. Those are but a few of the reasons I fell in love with you so long ago.” His eyes softened now; his adoration made plain. “You’ve absolutely no reason to doubt yourself.”

A small hiccup bubbled from your mouth, and you pressed your face into the warmth of his palm, breathing him in deeply. Not having properly dressed for the day, he hadn’t put any cologne on. The natural terra-sweet scent of his skin filled your nose. You were grateful for his support, respect, and belief in your abilities. A sudden, silly thought flitted across your mind.

“Not my dance moves?”

A single amused breath huffed from his throat. That infinitesimal smirk – one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with him – appeared on his lips. His blue eye flashed; as it often did when an idea struck him. Silco lifted to his feet, and used a strong grip to pull you to yours. He guided your arms to loop around his shoulders and neck, while his went to your low back. A weary chuckle left you as you understood. Your cheek was a relieved, heavy weight against his shoulder. It had to be a strange sight, this dance configuration: with your body slouched against his, massive belly hanging between you two. Slowly, your feet began gently shifting side-to-side.

“Admittedly,” he murmured against your crown, “your dance moves leave something to be desired right now.”

You laughed, even as another contraction swelled within you. Silco’s hands firmed up on your body, holding you upright as it moved through your body.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you hissed as most of the pain subsided. It was such now that there was no longer any real relief.

“A dance and a suck job? Lucky me.”

Your fingers pinched Silco’s upper back, and you felt the tremor of silent laughter in his shoulders.

“Tub’s ready!” Jinx sang as she flounced out of the bathroom.

Managing to smile at her, despite another great, contracting swell that threatened to bring you to your knees, you took her hand. Silco kept a strong arm wrapped around your middle, and you followed Jinx into the humid warmth of the bathroom.

The water helped. Its heat soothed your pained muscles and aching bones. The irony was not lost on you that you found peace in it. After a few minutes of settling into the tub, you gave Silco a look that to anyone else may have seemed like nothing. But he caught the message in your eyes, and tucked himself close to the tub’s edge, taking your hand. Jinx huddled herself into his lap, nervously fingering the buttons on his shirt.

About an hour later, the midwife’s large ears flicked in your direction as the quality of your breath shifted, as the sounds leaving you turned deeper and more animal. Her deft hands slipped into the water and between your legs.

“Something changed,” you gasped, hunching slightly. “It feels like – “

“It’s time,” she said, pulling her hands from the water. Somehow, she’d also stripped your underwear off in the same movement without you noticing. “It’s time to push.”

Push. The word settled into your body with a deep, innate knowing.

Yes. That’s what you were feeling. The near uncontrollable need to bare down. An old, predetermined instinct washed over you. You could do this.

But you did not want to do it alone.

“Sil.”

The grit of his name and the way you shifted yourself forward spurred your partner into understanding. Swiftly, he stood, deposited Jinx onto the stool he’d vacated, and then stepped into the tub, sliding in behind you. Settling against his chest, your hand ferociously intertwined with his. His heart beat firmly against your back.

“You can do this,” he whispered into your ear.

“Give me your other hand, dear,” the midwife said. You did so and she guided it under the water, preparing you to feel and catch. “Push.”

“Push! Push!” Jinx cried, her little fists pumping and bopping in the air madly.

Gritting your teeth, you did just that. A sound you didn’t know you were capable of making burst from your lungs. When the air ran out, you slumped against Silco’s chest.

“Breath in,” the midwife demanded. You did so. “Push!”

You did again, a roar ripping from your chest. A roar that ended in a surprised yip as something into your hand.

“Again,” the midwife demanded.

And you complied, baring down with everything you had. With all the might and tenacity and power your body could exert. Another battle cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, and a solid weight slid into your hand. You ripped your other hand from Silco’s grip, and pulled a wriggling newborn from the water.

“It’s a boy!” Jinx yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Her brother’s face squidged, and his pink mouth opened in an announcing wail. You joined in and pulled the babe to your chest. Silco went very still behind you, scarcely breathing. Then his hands appeared over yours, cradling the baby at your chest. Like on the night you’d taken in Jinx, he pulled his legs up around you both and held tight.

Later, once the placenta had passed (something Jinx was equally horrified and enthralled by) you were helped out of the tub, and cleaned. The midwife tied off the babe’s umbilical cord, and once some time passed, you watched with an incredibly full heart as Silco severed it.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen the expression on your partner’s face. A soft, careful, wonderous thing. Then it hit you all at once. You were watching Silco fall in love. The notion took your breath away and fresh tears welled in your eyes. Jinx clung to you, and you to her.

“Thank you for being with me, Jinx. It helped.”

The girl beamed up at you, holding on tighter.

“I think it is your turn for a shower, sir,” the midwife said, twisting off the umbilical nub.

Silco watched her hands like a hawk as she did. He slid in once she finished, and wrapped him in a blanket Jinx had decorated. It was a small thing, but you caught the tremor in his hands. Keeping Jinx tucked against your side, you came to stand next to him.

“He’ll be here when you get out of the shower,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Yeah! Go get the baby juice off you!” Jinx ordered.

Silco’s expression of awe turned to one of bemusement as he glanced at your daughter.

“Yes. I suppose I should.”

Your own hands shook a bit as you gathered your son – your son! You wondered if the shock would wear off – and ushered Jinx to follow the midwife out of the bathroom.

With no small amount of effort, your body, beyond sore and exhausted, climbed into bed. The baby cooed and nuzzled and fussed against your chest as you settled into the pillows and duvet. Jinx climbed in on the opposite side, and snuggled close.

“He’s already sleeping!”

“It’s hard work being born. Don’t you remember?” you chuckled.

Jinx laughed, “No!”

A small smile curled the midwife’s mouth as she snapped her bag shut. She turned to you and bowed her head.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you said, eyes on your boy. Then you lifted them to hers, and said again, “And thank you.”

She nodded again, horns catching the light in the room.

“It was my honor.”

She gave you and the baby one last cursory check over, and took her leave.

A few moments after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Sevika stuck her head in.

“Ogre!” Jinx cried. “I gotta brother!”

Even Sevika’s presence couldn’t dampen Jinx’s mood.

Silco’s lieutenant grunted, and stepped over to the bed. She stayed at a distance though, craning her neck to peer down at you and the baby.

“Yep. That’s a baby. Congrats.”

“Thank you, Sevika.”

Behind her, Silco emerged from the foggy bathroom in a fresh pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Sevika tilted her strong chin in his direction and he nodded back.

“I’ll leave you all to it then,” she said.

Her poncho twirled as she spun back to leave. As she and Silco crossed paths, a metal finger tip whipped out from beneath the red fabric, and poked his bare belly. He jolted and shuddered. He sneered at her, but she just snickered and slipped out of the room.

Silco shook his head, damp hair beginning to curl at the ends. He rounded the bed, and climbed in, sandwiching Jinx between your bodies. He leaned over the girl’s head and kissed you.

“What’re we gonna name him?” Jinx pipped.

You and Silco exchanged a look.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” he added.

Immediately, Jinx began rattling off all her suggestions.

Before a name could be decided, you fell asleep. Jinx followed shortly after; her plump cheek pressed against your shoulder. Gingerly, Silco lifted the baby from your arms, and brought him to his bare chest. The boy tensed, and then melted, a small wispy sigh leaving him.

Silco melted, too; a foreign, near indescribable softness filling him up. He brought his hand to the boy’s back, its length and width nearly covering all of him. His son was so small.

His son. His son.

Emotions gripped him so intensely he nearly choked.

Elation, love, fear.

Grief.

There was grief that his child was born technically as a citizen of Piltover. But that anguish was small compared to the other one that had been tucked away in the scar tissue of Silco’s heart ever since you had told him of the pregnancy. A pain that he hated he harbored.

The secret grief was that Vander wasn’t here to see this. The grief that his Brother had ruined any chance of participating in this milestone. The grief of Vander’s death (justified though it was) was scratched open as Silco’s son lay on his heart. The grief that, had things gone differently, Silco would’ve named the boy after his Brother.

“Sil.”

Silco’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice. Your beautiful, exhausted, beautiful face shone up at him. There was a smile on your lips that he wished to taste, so he leaned over Jinx’s head again and pressed his mouth to yours. 

“I told you you could do it,” he whispered leaning back. You smiled and nodded wearily.

The baby grunted and shifted against Silco’s chest, and he pet the back of his head so, so softly. It broke your heart into a million pieces, and then they jumped right back together. Your eyes slid back up to your partner’s profile.

You felt his grief, because it was yours, too.

“I know, Silco,” you whispered. He looked over to you. Jinx snored softly between. “I wish it had been different, too.”

Silco’s eyebrow dropped, and his lips softened. He glanced down at the baby on his chest, and chuckled ruefully.

“I truly don’t know what to name him.”

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

He nodded. You sat in silence for a while, listening to your children breath. Jinx’s raspy breaths and the baby’s snuffling. It was music to your ears. You would never tire of hearing it.

Just as you were about to doze again, you felt Silco’s energy shift. Eyes sharpening onto him, you watched as he first gently ran his fingers over Jinx’s freckled cheek. Then, so carefully, he lifted the baby from his chest so he could look at his small face.

“You and your sister will have better than we did,” he promised. “Me and your mother will give you a nation.”

Your son’s eyes fluttered open and closed, the bud of his mouth stretching into what looked like a small smile. Your throat tightened horribly, and you tucked your nose into Jinx’s crown.

When you were sure you could speak without choking, you lifted your head and said, “We promise.”

I hope part two scratched the itch <3 If you enjoy my work and would like to support me (firstly, THANK YOU!) check out my Ko-Fi page!

ko-fi.com/kiki13

[wandasaura]

WHAT DID I SAY

summary — the four times you fucked up and called your doms by the wrong name

warning(s) — college au, fuck-buddy relationships, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, face slapping, spitting, biting, body writing, restraints, spreader bars, mentions of branding, semi nipple torture, hickies, shotgunning, choking, butt plugs, spanking, ass biting, pussy slapping, doggy style, strap-on usage, cum-filled strap, fingering, oral, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mommy kink, captain kink, sir kink, literal filth, men/minors dni

authors note — first little headcanon/oneshot for know my place! hope you enjoy my little college stoners who fuck like rabbits. can totally be read seperate from the au!

know my place

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Maria – 

The wine is warm beside Maria’s bed. The bottle of Prosecco momentarily forgotten about as a symphony engages beneath the darkness of night and blankets. It’s not often that Maria pulls the blankets overtop of herself as she works to unravel the intricate knots and coils in your belly, but she’s chosen tonight to share the beauty of your body with only herself and the silicone toy secured around her hips. Your moans are muffled by her skin, teeth embedded into her shoulder as she rocks the strap-on into you harshly, the bulbous head dancing along your cervix with every third stroke. She’s practiced in this tango, an expert in knowing your body, but the wine has impacted your reception to her actions, and as she pulls the strap out of you almost completely only to thrust back into you quick and harsh, a name leaves your lips that isn’t her own. 

Maria has never been soft with you in moments of time where some part of her body is buried within yours. She’s rough, and assertive, and entirely domineering as she splits you open and gives you only as much pleasure as she’s willing. With Maria, you’re never in charge. The cards are held tightly in her ironclad grasp and you’ve learned better than to try and guess that she’s holding. The wine however, has severely impacted your judgment. You’ve engaged in this dance for months now; been left with the bruises and aches of her touch for days afterward, and yet you’re disoriented enough to cry out for Wanda as she drills your sopping cunt so perfectly. 

“Mommy!” The title slips off your lips before you can search for the correct term that’s filed away in a section of your brain labeled ‘Masha’. Maria has never been Mommy, in fact, she’s always turned her nose up at the title and joked that Wanda’s entirely too harsh to be called something so maternal, and she’s less than amused when the five letter name falls onto her shoulders as she works to unravel you completely. 

Her hips stutter to a stationary position, the silicone dildo fastened around her hips deep within your pleasure soaked core, but unmoving and unwilling to start again. There’s a moment of silence that passes between the both of you; Maria’s eyes are hard, slitted and dark as she stares down at you in a drunken haze, brain struggling to process what you’ve just let slip. Your eyes are wide, light and soft as you meet her stare and attempt to win her forgiveness without seeing the repercussions of your actions. You were a fool to call her Mommy, but you were an idiot to think she’d let it go so simply. 

The silence that had fallen over you ended abruptly, replaced by the echoing sound of a sharp slap meeting your cheek and bouncing through the air before you’d had a chance to process the pain at all. Your head snapped to the side, your unharmed cheek pressing against her pillowcases that smell somewhat of smoke and vanilla. Your eyes pinch closed, anticipating the next hit that will land against your heated skin, but it never comes. Maria’s hand tangled into your hair instead, pulling your head back until your neck is craned and the expanse of your sensitive skin is exposed enough for her teeth and tongue to mark. 

“What’s my fucking name?” Her hips snap into yours with each word that she mutters against your neck, sharp bites and sensitive stings encasing your body in a delectable buzz of pleasure and possessiveness. You’ll bear these marks for days to come, indentations of her teeth and patches of purple from her lips adorning your skin that can’t be easily hidden with makeup or your longest turtleneck. Everyone who looks at you will know that you’d found yourself beneath a warm body and had been helpless to their assault, but only you’ll know that it was Maria Hill who had been your intimate attacker. Each lovebite that she presses into your skin is a subtle claim. You’re not Wanda’s in this moment, you’re not Natasha or Carol’s either, you’re entirely Maria’s and she’s reminding you of such as her hips drive hard against your own and the silicone strap that’s coated in your arousal attempts to bruise your cervix in the most addictively painful way. Each strong thrust sends you reeling farther into bliss, but she’s waiting for an answer and you’re not getting anything more until she hears you call her the right name. In her opinion, she’s being entirely lenient with you, there are a plethora of ways she can go about reminding you who you belong to, and yet your wrists remain unbound and your breasts remain unmarked by the leather of her favorite flogger that’s just an arms distance away. “Whats my fucking name, slut? Or do I need to carve it into you? How pretty would you be with my name on your thigh; ruined for anyone else who even tries to get between these legs? My little slut forever.” 

A strangled moan falls into the air as Maria sinks her teeth into the skin of your neck just beneath your ear, and your hands that have remained at your sides throughout this entire exchange shoot up to scratch at her back, blood bubbling to the surface as you spare to ounce of lightness to your touch. She’s marked you, now she’ll bear your marks for days to come. “S-Sir!” 

Maria hums, satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to forgive you completely. Her hips continue to pound into you until she reaches her high, thighs quivering as she moans in pure delight until she’s too sensitive to continue on with her ministrations. The strap-on leaves your entrance quickly, your overstimulated and sensitive walls pleading for it to stay, but Maria’s done for the night, and she’s decided that you are too. She reaches for the abandoned glass of wine, taking a sip smugly as she straddles your hips, damp toy splayed across your naked belly as your chest heaves and you look up at her pleadingly. 

“You’ll get to cum when I don’t have to remind you who I am.”

Natasha –

Natasha’s hips continue to rock into you even as she leans forward and captures your lips between hers. The room is filled with a thin layer of smoke, the scents of weed and sex entangling together and yet it's somehow entirely Natasha as you lay beneath her, willing to take whatever she wants to give you. Your head is fuzzy, filled with only thoughts of her and the lightness that the bud had brought over your senses. Her body is warm as her naked chest presses against yours, already marked by her passionate kisses and bites that will linger for days to come in secret. Her pupils are blown wide, a combination of her lust and the joint she’s rolled skillfully. Her fingers are educated in the art of many things, but unraveling you is one of her most prized hobbies. Her lungs are filled with smoke from the last drag she’s taken, and as the seconds linger on with her lips still pressed firmly to yours, unmoving but eager to claim you intimately, she exhales into your open mouth and forces you to take the smoke that she fills it with. It burns as you inhale, slipping down your throat smoothly and filling your own lungs, but it’s pleasant and you greedily allow her to continue until all that remains is an empty kiss that was once filled with weed. The smoke trails out in wispy strands of white and gray, and they dance between your faces until the open space claims it and the visual is gone. 

When she pulls away, there’s a devilish smirk on her lips that even another drag can’t erase entirely. She raises the joint to her lips again, eyes fluttering closed as she sits back on her heels, the cum-filled strap she borrows from Carol still buried within your walls and yet agonizingly still as she lets her head fall back in contentment. The cloud of milky white smoke that settles around her is entirely erotic, almost a halo of intoxication above her head, but there’s hardly a second for you to admire how ethereal she looks in this state before she presses into you firmly and resumes her rocking. Her pace is punishing albeit shallow, the tip of the strap-on hitting your perfect spot so softly it feels like butterfly sings batting against your skin, but she’s ruthless with her speed and the quick motions of her hips are enough to have you gripping at the sheets and looping your legs around her waist to draw her in deeper. 

Natasha laughs smugly at the sight of you so fried and desperate. She raises the joint to your lips with one hand, encouraging you to take a hit before her other hand wraps loosely around your neck. She doesn’t apply any pressure as you take a long drag, eyes fluttering closed as you involuntarily shiver at the taste lingering on your tongue, but the presence of her grip is enough to have your hips bucking into hers. 

“F-fuck sir!” You cry out when she obliges with your silent request and begins to thrust deeper into your core, the head of the toy pounding right against your sensitive spot with practiced ease as your head falls back against the pillows and your lips release the joint. A cough falls off your lips as you moan around the smoke in your lungs, eyes becoming watery from the burning sting, but you have no time to recover from the hit before Natasha’s hand is tightening around your neck and her hips are setting into you faster and harder. 

Her lips purse as she collects spit on the tip of her tongue, letting it fall against your flush cheek before she smears it down your neck, fingers that are still holding the lit join trailing across the expanse of your sensitive and worked over skin. She’s playing with fire now, quite literally, smearing her spit across your chest until she finds a home at your pebbled nipple and pinches roughly, but you have no ounce of self-preservation in your body as you watch the lit joint fall closer and closer to the marked skin of your chest as she tightened her grip on your neck and leans cynically close to your face. Her eyes are dark, clouded with lust and intoxication. Her hips have set a punishing pace and each time she drives the head of the strap into your g-spot your vision goes white with pleasure. 

“That’s not my fucking name. Are you really that much of a slut that you’re thinking about Masha as I’m fucking you. We can get Masha if you’d like, I’m sure she’d love to watch as I fuck you into my mattress until the only words you know how to say are Daddy please. I’m sure she’d love to lay between these legs and watch my cum spill out of you before I push it right back in and plug you up. Fucking whore. Is Daddy fucking you too good? Is that little brain so overwhelmed with pleasure that you don’t even know who’s fucking you?” Natasha lightens her grip on your nipple, bringing the joint back up to her lips before she drops it into the ashtray on her bedside table and grips the dildo, throwing her head back as her thrusts become choppy. “I bet you’d let anyone fuck this cunt. All you want is to cum. Fuck!” She curses as she drops her body against yours, lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss as she squeezes the shaft tightly, cum spurting against your walls and marking them with a milky whiteness. “Cum with me. Fuck!” 

With her permission, the coil in your belly finally snaps, and you arch into her touch as she rides out her own orgasm, the cum slipping down your legs and coating your inner thighs and her sheets. “Fuck Daddy!” 

“Good girl. Scream my name. Let Masha hear how good I’m making you feel.” 

Wanda – 

When Wanda invited you over to fuck, you’d anticipated something quick. What you hadn’t expected, was for her to bind your wrists to her headboard and force your legs apart with her recently purchased spreader bar. You’d been at her mercy for hours now, writhing on the bed beneath her as she took her time working you up. First it had been her fingers that dared to ruin you, the ringed digits slipping between your folds and teasing your clit and entrance until you were dripping onto the bed sheets and pleading with her to give you something more. She’d agreed easily, not even putting up a fight to prove her dominance over you. Those skilled fingers had turned into a skilled tongue. The hot muscle pressed against your clit, lapped at your entrance and slurped up the damp arousal that glistened beneath the moonlight that bled into the room from the open window. She was relentless in her teasing, and as overstimulated as you were beneath her touch, you were equally as frustrated. She’d been at it for hours, bringing you just close enough to taste the sweet relief of your orgasm before she pulled away and began the process all over again. You’d cursed her out six times since she started, and each time she merely chuckled against your core and slapped her palm down harshly against your cunt, sure to let her fingers brush against your clit for merely a second before it was gone and her tongue soothed the ache but brought nothing more. 

Your hands itched to tangle into her hair, and yet each time you reached for her you remembered how she’d so intricately bound you to the headboard with the softest rope in her collection. Your hips bucked upward as she pulled away again, your entrance clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed and protested. A broken cry fell off your lips as you shook your head frantically, needing her back on you and relieving the intense ache that she had single handedly created. Her lips and chin glistened with your arousal as she smirked down at you, the vibrating egg between her legs working her up to an orgasm you could only beg for. 

A whine rippled through your chest before it tumbled into the room, the words you’d been chanting for hours mangled and wrong as they came spiraling out fast and strung together. “Captain! P-Please!” Wanda growled lowly at the slip, her eyes dark and sinister as she leaned forward to grab your jaw and force your eyes on her. 

“What did you call me?” Despite how she articulated every syllable in the sentence, she wasn’t really looking for you to respond to her. In a swift motion, she’d reached across the bed to grab the panties that she’d pulled from your legs when you’d first joined her in the bedroom, and shoved them into your mouth. The balled up fabric was damp and uncomfortable as it sat on your tongue, but despite how hard you strained to force them away from your mouth, you couldn’t get them out with your arms bound and her body restricting your movements. 

Your eyes tracked her movements as she fumbled around in the drawers of her bedside table, thighs straddling your waist as she leaned forward and subsequently rocked the vibrating egg farther into her tight channel. She trembled in pleasure, but everything about her was always so perfectly kept that it was hardly noticeable to anyone who wasn’t you. Her rustling had lasted mere seconds before a black marker that had been used weeks prior to mark up a project poster now in her grip and uncapped. You had no idea what she planned to do with it, but there wasn’t any way for you to ask if you wanted to. You were helpless to watch as she slid down your body and dragged the inky tip across the skin of your breasts before moving downward. 

You gasped when the cold tip of the marker dragged across the skin right above your mound, thick black letters that you had to strain your neck to read lingering on your skin only to be gone when you washed your body of her touch later that night. ‘Mommy’s Slut’, was written just above your cunt, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied in stopping there. She dragged the felt tip across the inside of your thigh, holding your legs still as they wiggled away from the ticklish sensations she provoked. A thick arrow pointed straight at your weeping entrance, and Wanda was cruel enough to write, ‘cum slut’ at the tip of the arrow. A cry fell off your lips when she threw the marker onto the floor, and returned to her position between your legs. Her mouth was cruel as it worked you up to the edge, but unlike the times prior, she hadn’t stopped when you’d begun to wriggle around as an indication of your approaching orgasm. You fell over the cliffside in bliss, but that had only lasted long enough for your orgasm to crash over you and then she was gone, forcing you to ride it out with no further stimulation. 

A harsh slap met your sensitive cunt when you finally stilled on her bed, teary eyed and desperate for something more as you stared up at her with wide pleading eyes. Wanda wasn’t willing to comply however, and instead of satisfying you fully, she trailed harsh bites up your torso and between the valley of your breasts before her lips, still glistening with your arousal, found a home against yours. The dainty pink panties with a frail little bow on the waistband still between your teeth and properly wet from your saliva, but she hadn’t trailed so close to your face to kiss you. Instead, she settled her harsh glare on you, a sinister smile curling the edges of her lips upward as she let a damp finger stroke across your cheekbones, “I guess Mommy has to remind you of who you belong to. We’ll see if you deserve to cum in a few days.” 

Carol –

The buttplug is an added sensation that Carol uses to her advantage as she works to unravel you completely before you both have to leave for class. You’re not new to butt plugs, Maria’s quite the fan of them, but you’re new to them with Carol and the ways that she likes to toy with your stimulated body. You're on all fours in the center of her bed, knees sinking into the mattress as your hands grasp and twist at the comforter, absolutely desperate for relief that’s been slowly building beneath the surface. Her fingers are buried deep into your core, curling into your g-spot and massaging your velvet walls with pride. Her tongue circles the plug in your ass teasingly, and every couple of minutes when you least expect it, she presses against the base of the plug in tandem with her harsher thrusts before she scissors you open. 

Carol smirks against your ass as she sinks her teeth into your left cheek, her hand slapping down on you right just as she flicks her thumb over your clit. A muffled moan falls off of your lips as you bury your face into the comforter, your hips rocking back on their own accord as you attempt to chase after her touch, a strangled cry of, “Daddy more!”, vibrating your cheek as you twist your head to rest your cheek against the comforter and stare back at her. 

Carol is relatively unbothered by your slip of her title, but she doesn’t let it go entirely, not that you’re aware yet. Her fingers work into you easily, her thumb rubbing harsher, tighter circles around your clit until you're spasming on the bed. She smirks against the globe of your ass, her thumb pressing firmly against the plug with the hand that’s not buried between your thighs. “That’s not my name Princess and you know that.” Carol says smugly, grinding her hips down onto the edge of the bed as she chases her own relief, knowing there’s not enough time in the ten minutes she has left with you to reverse your position and have you go down on her. 

“Captain!” You cry out sharply, reaching your hand back to grasp onto Carol’s as the coil builds in your belly almost unbearably. The engineering major merely smirks, digging her teeth into your ass a final time before she encourages you to spill around her fingers. That’s all it takes for you to cave and tremble as she continues to scissor you open and curl her fingers into your cunt, but as quickly as your orgasm comes, she’s pulling away and throwing your clothes at your head. “You’re really going to go to class like that?” You question her, laying dazing on her bed as you twist onto your back and watch her run a baby wipe between her legs before she’s wiggling into a pair of fresh panties and reaching for her pants. 

“Yes, and so are you. Get up. That plug doesn’t come out until I take it out.” She says in the most unphased tone, reaching for the crewneck that’s been laying across her desk chair for days, not even bothering to reach for the bra that’s only inches away. 

“W-What?” Your eyes go wide as you sit up in bed, wincing slightly at the pressure in your ass as the plug presses against the inner parts of you sweetly, ropes of pleasure shooting through your core. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you, Princess?” Carol merely winks before she’s flying out of the room, shouting that you have three minutes to meet her in the car before she leaves without you and makes you walk to class.

[shaytheantagonist]

My Roman Empire is how the life series writes itself. Here are some coincidences that I think about frequently:

1. Every person who has ever won a life series (Real Life included) was paired with another winner in Double Life (Grian & Scar, Scott & Pearl, Martyn & Cleo)

2. Several members had patterns in their deaths in Secret Life (All of Grian’s deaths happened while a large portion of the remaining server members were present, all of Scott’s deaths were arranged & he let whoever killed him kill him, all of Etho’s deaths were from Scar killing him, all of Jimmy’s deaths were from mobs of increasing strength (drowned, dragon & warden), all of Mumbo’s deaths were because of poor walking (walked off a ledge, walked into lava, walked into his own fence posts) & all of Martyn’s deaths happened in different dimensions)

3. Jimmy being out first 4 times in a row

4. Grian winning 3rd Life & then being dead last in the VR recreation of 3rd Life

5. Mumbo always having his final death moments after Jimmy’s final death

6. Pearl & Scar winning their seasons after being the underdog the entire season & having it the hardest

7. The first interaction Etho & Joel had in the entire life series was while they were in boats

8. Every time Scott is in the final two, whoever loses dies to a mob they didn’t know was behind them (Ren in Last Life, Scott in Real Life)

9. Jimmy always cursing at least one of his allies to do horribly each season (3rd Life was Scott’s lowest placement ever, 10th. Last Life: both Mumbo & Impulse were in the bottom 4. Double Life: Tango played poorly and was responsible for 2/3 of their deaths. Limited Life, Joel was out third & The Bad Boys died A LOT. Secret Life: Martyn was the first yellow AND the first red despite literally winning the previous season. EVEN REAL LIFE, Jimmy teamed with Grian, Joel, Scar & Impulse, who were the first 4 to be eliminated.)

10. Since Double Life, Pearl has wanted her allies to win the current seasons, she has outlived all of her main allies every season since then (Big B in Limited Life & Mumbo, BDubs & Joel in Secret Life)

11. Joel literally & metaphorically being the reason Lizzie was the first one out instead of Jimmy in Secret Life (Lizzie only died because she was trying to kill Scott to help out with Joel’s assassin task, by the time she tried to kill him & died in the process, Joel had already failed his task & just hadn’t told her yet, so if he had told her that he had failed, she wouldn’t have taken Scott to the end & fallen into the void & Jimmy probably would’ve first out again. Also when they were hosting an early funeral for Jimmy, Joel opened the grave & told Jimmy to “Rise”, I think this was Joel unknowingly breaking the curse.)

12. The fact that Gem’s final death is always her coming 3rd & dying in a 2v1 situation.

13. Joel’s first death in Last Life was fall damage, his first death in Secret Life was also fall damage. The reason Joel ended up on red life in Last Life was because of the Boogeyman curse (both times), in Secret Life, he because red because of being killed by a Boogeyman. In Last Life Joel’s final death was at the hands of Scott, causing him to place 5th, in Secret Life, Joel’s final death was being killed by Scott, causing him to place 5th. I’m leaving out one of Joel’s Last Life deaths, specifically when he died to Mumbo in self defence, but that’s mostly cuz there are more deaths in Last Life than Secret Life

This isn’t even all of them, there are so many more!

[iwassupremacy]

You asked for it: Aemond Targaryen from HOTD fucking you on the beach, the only thing between you and the city being Vhagar, and Aemond having an implied dragon kink. (As in, doing the tango either on a dragon, or within sight of a dragon, or while riding a dragon.)

Absolutely LOVED the idea!!! I really really hope the wait was worth it lol… I really enjoyed writing this!

You never imagined it to be this…exciting.

You were laying on your back on the sand and it quite literally got everywhere. But you couldn’t care less with Aemond being on top of you, his cock stretching you deliciously.

“My love~ hah” you whispered in his ear. He kept staring in the far distance while rhythmically fucking you, not paying any attention to your quivering figure.

“Aemond~ please” you tried again, this time louder, moaning in the process and pulling at his longe hair.

“Husband~ please look at me~ oh goods” suddenly he moved back, harshly turning you around. “Look at her.” He growled in your ear.

That’s when you saw her. Vhagar staring down at you. She was so far away you were sure she couldn’t see you due to her age, but even though there was an extreme distance between her and you, you could still see her very clearly.

“Gorgeous, right? Your cunt keeps clenching me so tight now I almost think you get pleasure from her watching us.”

You were a whimpering mess by now, your juices covering your thighs, and your husbands cock and even pelvis, giving the sand the perfect opportunity to stick to you.

He was fucking you from behind now, harsch, fast and ruthless. His hand in your hair, pulling your head up, making your scull burn.

“Do not dare to look away, wife.” Aemond whispered right in your ear, his voice hoarse and breath hitting your face.

He himself was torn between looking at his dragon and the recoil of your ass every time he buried his cock deep inside of your cunt.

“Aemond~ Aemond~” you kept blabbering and calling his name. You were moaning and your eyes were hooded, sometimes rolling in the back of your head from all the pleasure, but you still couldn’t stop looking at the mystical creature in your sight

Vhagar was huge. She was so far away, it shouldn’t be physically possible to still see her so clearly m. But you did.

With all your strength you pushed your upper body up to look behind you, spotting your husband in awe.

That’s when his eye hit you, eyebrows furrowed. “Hah~ next time I shall take you right next to her.”

Your cunt gushed at his words, your imagination running wild. Vhagar was obviously big enough for two to ride.

So you voiced your thoughts with shaking breath. “Perhaps~ next time you shall have me~ gods be g- good” you were interrupted by your own moan coming from your husband’s fingers circling your pearl.

“As I was saying~ p-perhaps next time you shall have me~ mhm~ right on top of her. R-riding in the open air.”

From there on it all came crushing down quite hard and fast. Aemond growled at the thought of that, his hips stuttering but never stopping l, such as his fast rubbing hand, making the two of you cum just minutes later.

“F-fuuck! Got me right there.” He chuckled. You were laying on your back again now, looking at him through love sick eyes.

“I am ready for round two, are you?”

[choccy-milky]

Random but when you post something I always get excited thinking it's a new chapter 😭 I'm literally waiting by my phone for it

BAHAH IM SORRY ANONS ITS COMING SOON I SWEAR!! but im glad ur looking forward to it!! my damn outline ALONE is 21k words (tho im really happy with it and im excited for yall to read it) and although i still have to finish it + the drawing, HERES PART OF THE WIP IN THE MEANTIME🥹💖(also anon, who cares if u think youre terrible at art... DRAW ANYWAY!!!😤& ILY TOO💖 )

im definitely gonna write them as adults, and have ideas for some side stories i wanna do!!! the one i mentioned in the wattpad comment would be in writing, because i wanna write about seb and clora finally deciding to have their first kid (along with the process😏😏😏😏) and how sebs breeding kink ass will react to doing the devils tango with clora when its ACTUALLY gonna make a baby LMAO. plus how his overprotective ass will act when he finds out clora is LEGIT pregnant while theyre travelling/on the JOB, rather than just a pregnancy scare like last time BAHA. so yes, overly excited seb will defs be a thing in the future LOL. (though there are things i am just gonna keep in comic form, like their kids and stuff, bc i dont rly have ideas for any sort of epilogue with that. so if ppl wanna know about seb and cloras kids, they can just look at my art once i finally draw and post them ^^)

IVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS TOO and the hairclip would defs be different!! i just havent decided what it would be.... (bro's about go buy her something bedazzled from ardene or claire's or some shit 💀💀LMAO) as for the mascots, the snake for seb would defs still apply bc ive decided its their mascot for the school football team. but for clora no, i dont think bird/raven imagery would be a thing......tho maybe the school mascots can be the snakes AND ravens LMFAO. and then i can have seb look directly into the camera and say "well, clora, looks like we really are The Raven and the Snake."

@4ever2000lover BAHAHA YOULL SEE YOUR NIECE AND NEPHEW SOON I SWEAR!!! i have the sketches but i plan to finish them + post them once im done the last chap of my fic. but they ARE coming, i promise👀👀(and im rly excited for everyone to see their daughter and her name, bc im so proud of it LMAO. i used up my entire big brain quota for the year on it +the reasoning behind it🧠)

also @blue-space-dragon TYSM IM GLAD U LIKE MY ART AND HOW I DRAW MY BLORBOS🥹💖AND ALSO THAT U FIND IT APPETIZING LMAO😋💖

[monnn]

When you know, you know.

staring: Idol! Mingyu x Non-idol!, GN! s/o

wc: 1.4k-ish

genre: slice of life(?), FLUFF. YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO LOVE MINGOO, comfort-ish(?)

warnings: mentions of food, reader being sick(in love), tooth-rotting fluff.

a/n: hi omg hello, i am alive and finally out of my writer's block(ig?). i'm terribly unwell atm and i've never craved the comfort of a person as much as i do with gyu, so here's a highly self-indulgent fic! i hope you are doing okay and i just wanna say, i'm so glad to be writing again. have a great day/night and hope this fic reaches the person in need of a cutie mingoo atm! ♡

the song rec for this fic would be Margaret by LDR ft. Bleachers!!!

Mingyu's on his way back, with your favourite meal and boba. Was there a reason to get take-out? Definitely not, he really just felt like it. If you had made food, Min could convince you to have it next day. That's how it usually went and he was mostly successful. With his manager dropping him off, he heads inside the elevator and straight to your floor. Since he already knew the code to your apartment, he quietly let himself in, eyes immediately searching for you.

What he doesn't expect to find, is you sitting in the dark on a chair, curled up in one of your fav blankets with a flask coddled in your arms. Your head's supported by a chair on the dining table, mouth slightly open as you doze further away. Min quietly trots through the living room to you, slowly putting the bags down, careful not to wake you up. He adores you for a good minute, slowly lifting you up to rest in your bed. Their neck must hurt, but they keep doing this >:( he wonders to himself while carrying you.

He lets you rest while he does all the chores that you weren't able to do cause of your sickness. A few hours pass by, you wake up with Mingyu sitting by your side, barely touching you in the process of waking you up. He knew how extra sensitive you were to touch when sick, hence he decided to call out for you than kissing you to consciousness. You wake up slowly while he adjusts pillows behind for you to sit straight, he really is a nagging Asian mum in disguise. Handing you warm water to hydrate, he looks at you with all the love in him to see if you need anything from him. You catch him looking and reach for his hand, realising the love you have for him is unbelievable.

"You know love, I can't ever thank you for being so kind to me. I feel like there isn't enough of me to be so damn grateful for you." you say, lovingly gazing at the love of your life. A faint pink's spread all over his face as he nuzzles his face to your hand.

"And I'm ever so happy to be the receiver of your gratefulness, regardless of the amount. It takes two to tango I guess." he says, ever so lightly pressing his lips to your hand. After basking in each other's presence for a while, he mentions about the food he's got, which gets you outta bed in no time.

You head to the kitchen to unpack the boba, while he joins you in heating the food up. It's then you think how freeing it is, to be doing the most mundane things with Mingyu. He just seems to make the littlest of things much more better and you love that about him. A bump against your shoulder gets you back, where the food to your side is all ready to be devoured. Quickly removing the covers around drinks, you move to place them on the dining table. One where you're sitting and the other next to you. That's the thing about you guys, Mingyu never likes it when he's not next to you. He hates how all the fancy restaurants have seats across and not next to each other. But now, he gets to have a meal with you next to him and he thinks about how this is his highlight of the day. Min loves being around you and having a meal, so it's like two of his favourite things put together. You spread out the mat for the hot pan to be put on while settling down in your seat, waiting for the food to arrive. Looking at this, Mingyu hurries to place the pan down while grabbing two spoons before sitting down. Both of you look at each other, nodding in agreement to start eating. It's absolute delight running through your body and eyes for Mingyu. He loves it when you enjoy things he does for you. Raising your boba drinks to cheer, both of you devour in silence, enjoying the food and each other's presence. By end of the meal, you're much more comfortable to let Min under your skin and he's never been so much happier to be as affectionate as his heart needs. Taking the last bite, you stand up to call dibs on cleaning up since he literally did all the leftover chores. And right when you're about to get the pan, Min's grabbing you by the hand, turning you to face him. You're glad to be seeing eye-to-eye since he's on his butt and you're standing.

"What's up?"

"Can you please let me do the dishes? You're literally sick, doing more work would just worsen it."

"But Min, you did all of the chores! It's really unfair if you don't let me, you know." you say as he scoffs.

"I don't care, I love you but please let me do the cleaning."

"I love you so so sooo much too my Min, but I cannot let you do the cleaning up."

"Okay, how about we rock-paper-scissors this?"

"Alright. On the count of three, two, one!"

And to his luck, you throw a rock while he throws a paper. The council has decided and you accept your fate, slowly moving away from the pan.

Right at the moment, Mingyu pulls you in a hug, nuzzling further to your middle while almost sounding like a puppy adjusting to fall asleep. You wrap your arms around him, leaning down to lay your head on his. But, you're suddenly pushed away just to be pulled back onto his lap, while he holds you dearly and continues to be adorable. Again, you have no choice but to stay limp for him to recharge himself. It's hard not to admit how secure and loved you feel in Mingyu's big beefy arms, you kiss him on the side of his head impulsively to convey the same. That loosens his hold on you, him whining on how you always catch him off-guard with your actions. Now, there's nothing but giggles filled in your living room, both of you so knee-deep in love and into each other cause when you know, you know.

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

a/n: comments and feedback are highly appreciated! hope you enjoyed reading this work of mine, thank you! x

[tangosyourtek]

So I see you often on Twitter and on here ranting about Ranchers so I got to ask. Why do you love em so much as a fellow romantic rancher shipper?

Thank you so much for asking.

The most appealing thing about ranchers in my opinion, and it’s doesn’t have to be seen as a romantic thing, is how they both treated each other in Double Life despite how things went in their previous teams.

Jimmy in third life with Scott was treated horribly (and I’m so tired of fanon erasing their toxic & abusive aspects). Not only does Jimmy get bullied by the entire server, but his own teammate, deemed “flowerhusband”, was going around behind his back and trashing his builds. Not to mention Jimmy telling Martyn “If he (Scott) starts hitting me what can I do y’know”. And, maybe controversial take, but the southlands were not great either for Jimmy. Tango, never really had something stable in 3rd life, and he was constantly used in Last Life and betrayed by one his closest allies while his whole team did nothing and watched, sometimes even encouraging the behavior.

You’d think after all that they would have their own divorce quarter arc but they didn’t. Both of them were constantly apologizing for their deaths and things they did, while the other reassured them and stayed by their side. They uplifted each other and complimented each other’s builds. They were always making sure to hear the other out and get their opinion on things and allowed each other to go out and act independently, not trying to trap each other in a box to survive and not die first. In my opinion, they were the healthiest pairing in Double Life- and dare I say team-up in the whole life series. It’s a death game and yet they somehow made it sickeningly sweet and domestic.

After Double Life, it really looks like their partnership healed a part of the ranchers. Jimmy and Tango have both been doing amazing since, both performance wise and team wise- knowing what to expect and how to handle it. There might be some small hiccups here and there, but that’s all part of the healing process and moving forward.

I’ve actually been meaning to write a whole essay going into depth about their relationship & dynamic through the life series and explaining how healthy and beautiful it is. One day I’ll get it done…

[angeliicheartt]

🐬 "ᴘᴜʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ!" — send a dialogue prompt and a character and i'll write a blurb!

actually so down bad for this idea but "it's him or me" WITH TENYAYAYAAAAAAAH might be a bit 🤏🏻 ooc prompt for him but I'm in desperate need of a jealous iida in my life 🙏🏼

"ʜɪᴍ ᴏʀ ᴍᴇ."

includes: tenya iida

fem!reader

a/n: ooc!tenya, monoma is reader's friend from childhood cuz i need an "other man" ermermerm tenya is kind of in the process of courting reader? he insisted. tenya is kinda 😬 in this, pls listen to "el tango de roxanne" from the moulin rouge soundtrack i think it fits! tenya looks so fine in the pic below

it really hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal to you. 

so what if you were close with neito? the two of you had been friends since preschool. although, he proved to be a challenge to the poor boy attempting to court you, tenya.

your chest ached with worry as you stood only a few feet away from the fuming boy, the two of you gathered outside the dormitory building, the gleam from the streetlamps and the moon being the only sources of light. his uncharacteristically dark eyes boring into you, making you uneasy. his arms crossed over his chest as the two of you stood off. you stood clueless as to why tenya was mad. 

“what's got you so upset?” you try, your voice only slightly above a whisper. your feet shuffle around as you stalk closer to tenya, wanting to try and comfort him. His eyebrows furrow at you before relaxing again as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“i suppose it is rather unfair if i do not tell you what’s upset me.” he remarks, his arms unraveling to rest at his sides. you rest your weight on one leg, your hands clasping together behind you as you wait patiently for the navy-haired boy to explain. he pushes up his glasses before running a hand through his dark hair, the sight pleasing if not for the tension that filled the space between you two.

“you’re around monoma from class B a lot, y/n, it makes me feel discomfited.” he states, his eyes locked on you as your eyebrows furrow slightly. your shoulders tense as you hear tenya’s words. you thought he’d understand.

“he’s like a brother to me, tenya.” you say, your voice interlaced with disbelief. “you know that, i’ve told you that numerous times.”

“it doesn’t make me feel any different, y/n. you still fawn over him like he’s your partner,” he chastised, his volume raising the longer he talks. “you don’t do that with me.”

you scoff as your eyebrows furrowed once more, your cheeks getting hot the more worked up you get. your own arms move to rest on your hips, your jaw stiff with tension.

“last i checked, you have yet to formally ask me to be your partner, tenya, so don’t think you have the right to be mad at me for not treating you as such. i thought i would scare you away if i latched onto you so early. you wanted to take things slow, i was only respecting that.” you spat, meaner than you may have meant. you watched as tenya’s shoulders dropped, his posture hunching before straightening again, his eyes dark with vexation.

“we cannot move forward in our relationship if you are always with another man, y/n!” he hissed, his dark eyes locked on you. 

“i say hello to him! i talk to him, tenya. just like every other man i interact with! he’s my friend, nothing more!” you maintained, your voice rising in tandem with tenya’s. your chest heaved with emotion, you thought tenya was different from this.

“you're closer with him than anyone else! what am i supposed to think?” he berates, his anger not dissipating in the slightest. his hand runs through his hair once again, but you don’t even process the motion, your hand reaching up to rub your forehead, an attempt to soothe your growing headache. 

“we’ve known each other since we were five, iida! of course we’re close, i grew up with him!” you worry about your volume but the thought gets pushed to your subconscious. “you can’t just ask me to lose my whole relationship with him!”

you see tenya’s eyebrow twitch at your use of his last name, your heart ringing guilty before you steel yourself again. “i won’t stop being friends with him for anyone.”

“it’s him or me, y/n.” he stated, his words rushing ice through your veins. your lips part as you aim a glare at the boy before you. you close your mouth, your lip curling slightly as you seethe from your spot only a couple feet away from tenya.

tenya already felt the guilt and regret seeping into his stomach, the ultimatum he proposed weighing on his shoulders as you stand in silence, and.. were your eyes glassy?

you steeled yourself not to cry. tenya was who you wanted, you dreamed of ending up with a man like him, he was a gentleman, he never tried in earnest to hurt you in any way, yet he still did.

“you cannot ask me to pick,” your voice trembled but your words rang clear. “i will not pick.”

“then you’ve chosen him.” he noted, his voice a fraction of the volume it was only a few moments ago, his hand coming up to adjust his glasses once again. your breath catches in your lungs as you take in what he said.

“are you serious right now? really tenya?!” you find your voice again, continuing to spout words at this raised volume, “you’re ending what we had before we could even experience it?!”

“i suppose i am, y/n.” he says calmly as he turns, walking into the dormitory building.

he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend tonight.. how’d it go so wrong?

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @miyamoratsumuu

[thebiggerbear]

i think i've seen this film before

Summary: When three certain little words escape him, you know them for what they are: a plea not to leave him alone with only his thoughts and whiskey for company. You've seen this song and dance before.

Warnngs: heavy angst, cheating/infidelity, light smut, dagger analogy (Idk if this is a thing but putting it here in case)

Word Count: 2202

Response to prompt from @me-writes-prompts

A/N: Yes, I'm still on writing hiatus but this came pouring out of me today from where I have no idea. Must be the holiday. I feel like this happened last year, too, with Something Real which was also a bucket of angst and heartbreak. So it definitely has to be the holiday then. All completely unbeta'd (and probably very messy quite truthfully, I'll have to come back and try to clean it up later tonight, there may be some switching around of tenses, sorry!). As an aside, I don't condone any form of cheating but this just came out as is and I was so relieved to be writing something, that I just kind of went with it. I was going to keep it as a blank character x reader but in the end, the muse overruled me and let a name slip of who it was imagined to be. She's a sneaky bitch who can't be trusted to keep anything resembling a secret, I swear.

You can also read on AO3

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“I love you.”

Those three little words, barely said in a whisper, make you freeze. After your heart starts beating again, after your brain has processed that yes, he really just said that, you continue slipping your shirt over your head. 

Once you pull your hair free from your neckline, you turn to where you left him moments earlier, sprawled out on his back on the bed, an arm behind his head with the mist of sweat drying on his skin, his hair a crime scene of damp wayward strands with your fingers having been the perpetrator. You find him watching you intently with those eyes that you swear can see down to the deepest parts of you zeroed in on your face, a faint trace of hope lining the irises you’ve so often found yourself lost in these past few months. You momentarily clench your jaw as you steel yourself to say what you need to. “You shouldn’t say that to me.”

Where you expected to see heartbreak or some vestiges of pain, you only saw determination, suddenly renewed. You then realize your mistake. You hadn’t said the one word he expected to hear, the one he needed to hear: No. So it doesn’t surprise you when you see the hope in his gaze flare brighter, perhaps believing he’s not alone in this after all. 

You watch as he moves aside the thin sheet covering the last traces of his modesty, fully revealing himself to you as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. The irony of the action is not lost on you; he’s making himself vulnerable before you, letting you see every inch of him, even what’s beyond skin deep.

He is suddenly before you, this large man whose hulking stature had completely dwarfed you minutes ago as he had pushed your thighs back and pistoned in and out of you, groans escaping him as droplets of his sweat christened your bare skin repeatedly. And yet, despite the size of him, here he is, exposing himself in such a way that you feel like the tall one, even as you crane your neck to meet his intent gaze head on.

The tips of his fingers gently urge your chin up a little higher so he can see all of you, both of you laid bare to one another as his eyes swallow you whole. “Yes, I should,” he murmurs. “I love you.” You know what’s about to happen, especially as his eyelids lower slightly and he begins to dip his head. The insatiable monster inside you craves his lips on yours, his tongue tangling with yours in a tango that mimics the one your bodies just did, craves him, but you force yourself to pull away.

Ignoring the hurt lining his expression, you turn to look for your shoes that had been kicked off as you both stumbled into the room, glued to one another and tearing at each other’s clothes in your desperate need to have your skin meeting his. Once you spot them, you take a step in that direction when his hand on your elbow stops you.

“Baby,” he pleads. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, refusing to look at him like he’s begging you to.

When you attempt to move again, his hand releases you only for his arm to snake around your waist and prevent you from leaving. You’re not surprised when he pulls you closer and you can feel the scratchiness of his unshaven face against your neck as he burrows into you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear. He’s begging again, though this time you know it’s more for you not to leave more than his insistence on your belief in his feelings for you. He doesn’t want you to leave him here, alone with only his thoughts to keep him company along with some top shelf whiskey the hotel staff stocks exclusively for him in the mini bar. 

It used to work, this heartfelt plea whispered against your skin, nuzzled against your cheek, pressed against your lips, until you gave in and let him lay you back down on the bed, giving yourself over to him completely for however long he wanted you. Now, though, you’ve grown stronger, smarter, and that’s why it’s easier than ever to push away from him and look him dead in the eye. “Then get a divorce.”

You see the expected pain magnify throughout his handsome face and you take the opportunity of his reaction to your response to finally move away and grab your shoes, slipping them on as quickly as possible. 

He quietly clears his throat before the familiar deep voice that has murmured the dirtiest and sweetest things you’ve ever heard into your ear tears through the quiet paper-thin hush of the room that usually exists once your frenzied lovemaking ceases. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. You know I can’t—”

“Not my problem,” snaps out of you. You don’t even bother to roll your eyes anymore at the age-old response he gives you every time you dose both of you with reality like this. Except it is your problem, very much your problem. Hell, it became your problem the moment you allowed him into your apartment that one snowy night, fully knowing you were about to change your life forever and not necessarily for the better. When you finally found out how easily your scratches could be seen on his skin, how divine his lips tasted especially after they had drunk deeply from yours and your body still ricocheted with aftershocks from your orgasm, and how taut his back muscles became with every slow and hard thrust into you. When you found out how intoxicating the sounds of his groans in your ear were as he took pleasure in what your body offered his, how dry your mouth was afterwards from all of the loud panting you did as his mouth ghosted over yours while he repeatedly hit that one spot deep within you, and how tightly he held onto you once he came, unwilling to let you go until he had absolutely had to.

You tamp down the desire you feel unfurling underneath your skin at the memories of that night and grab your jacket and handbag from where you’d tossed them. You refuse to think any further about that night, about how he had begged you to let him in, his chest heaving and snowflakes rapidly melting in his short hair, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them and glancing repeatedly at your lips. You absolutely don’t think about the way his mouth desperately claimed yours the moment you opened the door wider and he was on you, kicking the door shut behind him. Or about how only minutes later he had you backed up against the wall, your jeans and panties tossed away somewhere, and him on his knees with his head buried between your legs, making you grip his hair as you bit your lip so hard it bled. Or even about how you had clawed at the wall he had turned you to face as he pounded away at you, his hand turning your head so he could sloppily kiss you, grunting loudly into your ear with every thrust as the rough fabric of his coat sleeve rubbed against your neck. Or how the buckle of his open belt rattled with his movements, only to be rivaled by your own cries, both being surpassed by his loud drawn out roar of “Fuck!” as he buried himself to the hilt within you and burrowed his face into your neck. His hot and harsh breaths dampened your skin while you reached a hand up to run soothingly through his wet hair, struggling to regain the ability to breathe yourself. No, you weren't going to think about how he then moved you to your bedroom from where neither of you emerged until hours later in search of sustenance and electrolytes.

Instead of allowing yourself to get lost in the thoughts of that night, you take a small breath and start heading for the door.

“I love you, dammit.” He’s angry now, just as you knew he would be the closer you got to leaving, leaving him. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

You stop and you hear him take a step closer. You don’t have to turn to look at him to know there is a cautious renewal of hope lighting his eyes. You had stopped after all. But you both have done this dance before and each time it ends the same way. 

“No, you don’t,” you answer him quietly, almost gently. Your aim is not to hurt him, never to hurt him. He’s been hurt enough and you will be damned if will be like her and add to his pain. But at the same time, you can’t lie nor will you continue to swallow any of his. So, like always, you spare him but not yourself. “You think you do, but you don’t. You don’t love me.”

“Yes, I do.” He’s closer now, his voice is cracking slightly…he’s a few moments away from coiling his arms around you like a snake and keeping you from walking out the door, again. 

And so you make it quick, you plunge the dagger of truth into your own chest and let the pain bloom within you, spreading quickly through your veins like wildfire. “You don’t because if you did, you wouldn’t keep me in a holding pattern like this.” You then force yourself to turn and face him, your eyes hard as diamonds and your face one of stone. “I’m purely a convenient fuck for you when you get lonely, or someone to call when it all becomes too much. This isn’t even an affair. I’m nothing more than a painkiller that comes with an orgasm or two. That’s it and you know it. So, no, you don’t love me, because if you did, you would never use me like this.”

As expected, his eyes widen and his jaw drops. You can see the protests building in his throat but you cut him off.

“And if I loved you, I wouldn’t let you continue to use me like this.” 

He stands there, staring at you, a small sadness growing in his deep gaze. This always happens. As much as you try to spare him and not bleed out your pain all over him, some tiny amount almost always splashes onto him. You can’t help that. One of you has to be the strong one and keep it real; it just happens to always be you.

So you don’t allow his crestfallen expression to get to you and you lift your chin slightly, rolling your shoulders back as you straighten your spine. “I’ll see you when I see you.” 

You spin on your heel and stride towards the door. When your fingers grab onto the door handle, you hear a broken plea of “Don’t leave…please.” You clench your jaw and force yourself to open the door, refusing to look back.

“Goodbye, Jensen.”

You walk across the threshold and pull the door closed behind you. You make your way to the elevators, unsurprised that he doesn’t quickly dress and run after you. He never has before; why would that change now? When the elevator dings and thankfully the car is empty, you step into it and hit the “close door” button. You wait and as expected, no calls of “Wait!” or chimes of your phone sound as the doors take their sweet time closing despite their directive. Once they’re shut, once there is no possibility of him seeing you or hearing you, you sink against the wall of the car and grasp at your chest, your breath loudly catching as the full weight of the pain you had denied yourself begins to flow through you anew. Tears mark your cheeks and you let out a sound akin to a strangled sob. 

Yes, you do love him and that is why you continue to let him use you in this way. That is why you opened the door that night and let him in, fully knowing what was going to happen. That is why you allowed him to take your friendship and mangle it into whatever dark and hopeless form it takes now. You fucking love him; of course you do.  In the same breath, though, you know he doesn’t love you and this last bit of pain is what finishes you as the elevator continues to descend: and he never will. You turn your body to face the corner and hold a hand over your mouth, beginning to cry outright. He will never love you the way you love him. No matter how many times you run to him when he calls, no matter how you let him take pleasure in you or comfort in your arms, no matter how many times you’ve begged him to end things with her and be with you instead…he will never love you. You loudly sob as the sharp tip of that truth dagger from before lodges itself into your heart, almost neatly fitting into the groove from all of the previous times. Your heartbreak is the only sound that echoes throughout the small space along with the glaring silence of your phone. And just like that, once again, the dance comes to its predictable end.

A/N: So yeah, sorry about that. As always, no disrespect is ever meant to Jensen, Danneel, or their family. I'm not suggesting or implying anything about either Jensen or Danneel, I just had him in my head while writing. Purely fictional.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Jensen RPF: @ladykitana90; @lemonfreak97; @lacilou; @waynes-multiverse

Forever Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown; @ladysparkles78

[forever-rogue]

Hey there favorite writer

Would you be able to write something about reader and Joel having a baby together and falling in love all out of order? They’re not in an established relationship but had a one time thing and reader got pregnant. She wants to keep the baby because she feels safe in Jackson and Joel agrees to help her raise it, cuz it takes two to tango LOL. He starts falling for her during her pregnancy and she falls for him when the baby is born and she sees what a good father he is to their baby.

I’m sorry if this is a weird request I just thought it would be cool LOL

AN | Oh, but this turned out to be soft 🥰 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Pregnant!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I'm pregnant."

The words crashed around him like a ton of bricks. Joel thought he might pass out. You looked just as distraught as he felt. 

This couldn't be happening. Fuck. This was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen. It was supposed to be a one night, one time type of thing. 

And now it suddenly became a much bigger thing. A potentially forever thing.

"What?" was all he could think to ask, causing you to roll your eyes in frustration.

"I'm pregnant," you repeated sharply, causing him to recoil slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, angry tears welling up, "we have sex one time and I'm fucking pregnant. It feels like some kind of horrible joke."

“Are you-”

“Don’t even fucking bother to ask if it is yours,” you glowered at him and Joel immediately regretting his decision to even ask the question. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him, even if he wished you were, “you’re the only one I’ve slept with in a long time. So yes, it’s yours.”

“Okay,” he nodded, still attempting to process everything. His mind was both blank and filled with a million thoughts all at once, “okay.”

“Look,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to keep the tears from welling up and spilling over, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I never thought this would happen. I never wanted this. And I’m so fucking sorry. But this is…the unfortunate reality.”

“I know,” he wished he could find something more comforting to say. He wished he could hug and tell you that everything was going to be alright but the truth was that he didn’t know if it would be okay. He was scared, “what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after a few moments of tense silence, “I don’t know. I wish I did…I thought this would be such an easy choice.”

“But it’s not,” he stated as you nodded slightly.

“It’s not,” you confirmed, “I don’t even…I just figured you deserved to know, I-I guess. I don’t know; I’m just confused right now.”

“You didn’t get into this situation by yourself,” he hesitantly reached over and gave your shoulder a squeeze, “whatever you want to do, I’ll - I’ll do my best to be there for you and support you.”

“Yeah?” the way you looked at him with those teary eyes made his heart constrict. He could see how utterly scared you were.

“Yes,” he promised as managed to muster up a small smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“Thanks,” you took a step off his porch and turned away, letting out a quiet, shaky sigh, “I’ll see you around. I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”

“Okay,” his voice cracked as he watched you go and disappear into the softly falling snow. He was half tempted to call you back and have you come in and sit in front of the fire and figure it all out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

Once you disappeared, he slowly closed the door and turned around, only to find Ellie on the stairs, her expression incredulous, “holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” he agreed. He had fucked up. Seriously, seriously fucked up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a couple of weeks before you saw Joel. Or rather before you allowed yourself to face him again. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Joel, it was easier to put the reality of the situation to the back of your mind when he wasn’t around. But you also were well aware of the fact that you couldn’t ignore the situation for much longer; you were going to have to make a decision sooner rather than later. 

And that’s how you finally managed to find your way back to him. He looked deep in thought when you found him coming back from patrol rounds with Tommy. His expression stiffened for a moment before he said something to his brother. The younger Miller held up his hand in a meek little wave and headed off; you cringed internally when you realized that he knew exactly what was going on. 

“Hey,” you offered him a tightlipped smile as he nodded in response, “do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Of course,” he knew what was coming, had been expecting it now and was curious to know what you had decided. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his eyes, and instead focused on the buildings behind him, “what’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about all of this,” you gestured vaguely towards your stomach, “and I, I ugh, made a decision.”

“Oh?” he couldn’t help but feel nervous; he couldn’t even fathom what you were feeling. 

“I want to keep it - the baby,” you almost whispered it and nervously allowed yourself to glance at his face. His silence sent you in a dizzying spiral, “I just…I don’t know. I just think that… I don’t know if I’ve ever really thought about a kid, especially in this world, but if there’s any time or place in this world to do it, I think it would be here. And I just…I don’t want to get rid of it. I keep thinking about it, am I making the right decision but…I keep going back to yes.”

Joel took it in what you said and it sent him down his own path of worries and fears. He thought about Sarah, about how he’d never even thought about another child, about you. It was overwhelming all at once and he stood there, staring at you. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, “Joel? Say something…please. Anything.”

“I’m sorry,” he caught himself and shook his head, trying to snap back into reality, “I told you, whatever decision you made, I would support you. It’s not just…your kid. So…whatever you need or want just let me know. Anything, okay?”

“Okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “thank you, Joel. Listen…I, umm, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?’ he asked softly as you shrugged lightly, “you realize there’s nothing to be sorry for, right?”

“I guess it’s just everything,” you brushed at your cheeks, wiping away the few tears that had pearled up, “I know we’re not…anything. But I’m glad you’re…you. Not many people would be doing what you are. You’re a good guy, Joel and I appreciate that.”

“It’s only what’s right,” he cleared his throat, staring at his feet. It’d been a long time since someone had told him that, “you didn’t get…pregnant by yourself.”

It’d been the first time he’d said that word out loud. He still had this weird feeling that if he didn’t say that world out loud, somehow it wouldn’t happen. But no, no. This was happening; you were here and pregnant with his child. 

“Right,” you nodded shyly, “well, I guess I’ll let you get back to whatever you need to do. We still have time to figure all of this out. I’ll see you around?”

“See you around,” he whispered, watching you go with a heavy sigh escaping his lips. 

Well. All of this left him with a lot to think about too. He was going to be a father again; he had no idea how he’d do. Sure, he’d been a single dad when it came to Sarah, and now he had Ellie. But a baby? That was a totally different story. He just had to hope that it would come naturally again, and that you’d be willing to do this with him. Whatever happened he knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy road. 

But as he looked down the road and spotted Ellie laughing with Dina, he realized that the best things in life weren’t always easy. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next few months went by faster than you’d liked. At the moment it seemed like every day took forever, but they rushed by so quickly. At first it hadn’t seemed so bad but as you grew bigger and rounder, reality continued to set in. You were having a baby. 

It was Joel that found you as you tended to one of the gardens. You were sitting on the ground, sprawled out as best as you could, soaking up the sunshine that had finally come after the long winter. His heart ached at the sight and he felt an odd sensation run through his body, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Hey,” you looked up and smiled at the sound of his voice; it had been a while since he’d seen such a big and genuine smile on your face, “how’s it going?”

“Hi Joel,” you moved to stand up - a feat that was becoming harder and harder with each passing day - but he shook his head, “what’s up?”

He crouched down on his knees and started to help you without a moment of hesitation or being asked. It made your heart pitter-patter happily, “I’ve been thinking about…things.”

“Things,” you repeated as you fell into work next to him, “what kind of things?”

“All sorts of things,” you smiled to yourself when you heard his twang come out, “one thing was…that I thought maybe you could…umm, maybe move in with me and Ellie. It’s just, we have the space and that way you’d have your own space instead of sharing-”

“I have one roommate,” you answered softly, “with you, I’d have two. So, that’s not really much of a selling point.”

Joel huffed and you couldn’t help but smile; your friendship often consisted of this sort of banter, “I…well, it’s a bigger space away. And it might just be better if we were around each other, you know, in case anything happens. We’d have each other. And then…you know, once the - the baby comes it might be good to be in the same space. It’s just a thought…something to think about maybe.”

“What about Ellie?”

“She’d kick me out if it meant you moved in,” he chuckled fondly, “I think she might like you more than me. She’s…she’s excited to have a brother or sister.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from making any sound; the fact that he and Ellie had such a good relationship gave you hope that somehow all of this would work out, “oh. Oh.”

“Like I said, it’s just a thought,” you stopped what you were doing and looking at him, overwhelmed with a rush of affection towards the man, “so, yeah.”

“It’s definitely something to think about,” you agreed, unable to stop yourself from imagining a life where you had him around you everyday. Where you had your own little family with Joel, and Ellie, and the baby. But you quickly caught yourself, “thank you, Joel. That’s very kind of you to offer.”

“Of course,” his hand brushed over yours, “and if you need anything, you’ll let me know?”

“I will,” you promised, and stopped suddenly when you felt a sharp jab in your ribs, “ouch.”

“What’s wrong?” Joel’s eyes widened as he looked you over to make sure you were okay, “is it…?”

“The baby’s moving,” you explained as his face grew into a combination of excitement and nerves, “kicking me and this is one feeling I’ll never get used to.”

“Painful?”

“In a way but it’s more weird than anything,” before thinking too much about it, you took his hand and put it on your belly, right where you had felt the kicks. There was a moment of stillness and you worried that he wouldn’t be able to feel it but then you felt it again. Joel sucked in his breath as he felt the small movements under his hand. It had been another lifetime ago since he’d gotten to feel that, “they like you, Joel. They only started moving once you showed up.”

“It’s…” he didn’t even know how to put all of this into words. You, his friend, the woman he’d had a one stand with to get some pent up frustration, was pregnant with his child. And he currently felt that child moving around. Life that he had helped to create. These days he was still wrestling with a lot of feelings and emotions he thought he’d buried or moved past, but as he sat there next to you with his hand on your belly, everything made so much sense, “it’s amazing.”

“It kind of is, isn’t it?” you laughed softly, amazed to be in his situation, “what do you think it’s going to be?”

You hadn’t really thought about it much and part of you wasn’t exactly sure that you should have asked him. He seemed to be in deep thought for a few moments before he looked at with a soft expression on his face, “a girl.”

“A girl,” he answered confidently, “it’s just a feeling.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” you grinned, “you got a fifty-fifty chance of being right, so your odds aren’t terrible!”

“Not terrible,” he playfully scoffed, “I’m going to be right, you just wait and see.”

You were grinning at each other like fools, only interrupted with the sound of people approaching. That seemed to snap both of you out of your trance. 

“I should go,” he whispered as he stood back up and dusted himself off, “see you?”

“See you,” you promised, watching him walk away. As that old saying went, you hated to see him go but liked to see him leave. You weren’t quite sure where to place your feelings, but an odd, warm sensation had bubbled up in your chest. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You wrestled with the decision of whether or not to move in with Ellie and Joel for a few days. Deep down, you knew that it really hadn’t been a question at all. Your answer had been yes from the moment he’d asked. But you, silly, silly you, still didn’t want to seem too eager. He’d gotten you pregnant, there really wasn’t any reason to be shy. 

He - and a very eager Ellie - had helped you to move into the spare bedroom in their house. It really hadn’t taken much, but the community had already banded together to help you get just about everything you’d need for the baby. It wasn’t much longer until the baby was here and you were slowly growing more nervous everyday.

You were thankful to have Joel around; he made you feel safe and protected and you just…liked him. You’d always liked him, and now it felt like the more you got to know him, the more you liked him. At first you worried that it was only because of your funky hormones and the situation in general, but you knew that it really wasn’t that. It was because you genuinely liked him, enjoyed his company and…everything. 

It felt odd to be developing feelings for him since you’d already done the whole ‘sleeping together and getting knocked up’ thing. The attraction had always been there, it had always been mutual, but now it felt like things were developing on a deeper level, blossoming and blooming.

You were slowly becoming more and more sure of your feelings for him, and you thought, maybe foolishly, that he might just feel the same. 

But you never got the opportunity to ask him or try and read any further into it. 

The night you thought you might do so, you were in the kitchen and making dinner when your water broke. Ellie had been just as shocked as you, but it was Joel that kept a calm head. Maybe it was the practice or experience or just his nature, but he managed to keep you from completely panicking and falling apart. 

He’d gotten you to the hospital that had been built back up in Jackson and from then on, everything happened so fast. People really weren’t kidding when they said it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. 

Before you knew it, it was over and you had your baby in your arms. A girl, just like Joel had predicted. He couldn’t even hide the smile on his face if he tried. You hadn’t come up with any names and decided that Joel would name her. It didn’t take long for him to come with it - Violet. You thought it suited her perfectly…and he somehow then it was your favorite flower. You’d mentioned it once in passing, and had forgotten about it, but it had stuck with Joel. 

He was nervous at first - so, so nervous - about meeting her and holding her, but he quickly forgot all of that. From the moment he held her, he was in love with her and it was so clear to see. It made your heart warm and happy. Surely, this wasn’t an ideal situation and you’d really gone about things backwards, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing.

“I always wanted a family,” Ellie whispered to Joel as she held her new sister, thinking you were asleep. Joel made a small sound before he kissed the side of her head, “and now I’ve one.”

That’s when it hit you - you were a family.

Maybe not everything was figured out or said just yet, but you’d get there. All in your own time.

[amethystfairy1]

I have a question about Docs robotic arm, and I can't remember if it's ever been talked about or answered (sorry if it has lol), but can it feel (or register) pain?

Now, obviously I'm assuming it can't necessarily get hurt (outside of literally harming the metal/redstone anyway), and im pretty sure it's been stated that Doc would handle baby Tango whenever he got too hot because his metal arm wouldn't get hurt, but, can it register pain, per se?

Say, for example, his arm encounters high levels of heat, the arm doesn't actually get affected, he himself probably doesn't get affected much assuming the heat stays concentrated on his arm, but is he aware that it hurts? Is his brain firing pain signals to a limb that can't process them (or vice versa)? Does his arm maybe take in data, and relay to his archival eye that there are high levels of heat near/on his arm? So no pain is registered, but rather the heat (and or presence of what should be pain) itself?

And, lastly, in the event none of that is true, could the metal itself heat up enough to the point it would hurt his actual skin? Could his shoulder/back/neck get hurt where the grafted metal plates meet skin if his arm was hot enough? (I highly doubt it but if theres any Meta Runner fans reading this think Lucinia's arm lol. That arm definitely burned her in the explosion. Anyway im getting off track whoops)

Sorry for the long ask, that may not even make sense, and has potentially been answered/talked about before lol. (And or sorry for making you think things that havent been/wouldn't normally be thunk) Feel free to not even answer this I'll probably forget about it in a couple hours (i really need to get to sleep man. So eepy) But uh. Love your writing and hope you're blessed with the cold side of your pillow tonight <3

It doesn't register pain in the traditional sense, no. He does get phantom pains from the absence of his actual arm, though! He also does do the data registration thing that you mention! So for example of he's holding a crying lil Tango and Tango is heating up, his arm will register the high heat and relay that info to his archival eye, but he won't feel like he's being burned. Also yes, it could get hot enough to burn his skin, buuuuut that heat would have to be extremely high. He's held Tango during a panic attack and that hasn't been able to do it. So while it's possible, it's very unlikely to ever actually happen. Hope that makes sense! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!

[khoirkid]

Whumptober Interview with Amethyst!

Before the glorious event that is whumptober, I reached out to Amethyst to ask a bit about her process and what to look forward to. (Everything is shared with her permission.) You can find her tumblr @amethystfairy1 so hop on over and give her some support for October!

Q. How does the writing style and process change for a month-long event verses just writing?

A. I guess with like, my long form stuff, I write with a ton more detail for the month long events, especially since I've done multiple now, I try to pick out a specific thing to center the fic around and use that as a through line, strip it down to it's bones, and just go with that... I try to be a bit more abstract and use extended metaphors for the month long events

Q. How do you find a balance between the TTSBC AU and the TT au?

A. I don't. [A]ctual answer... um...I don't (Interviewer: Well, you know you have a 50/50 split for whumptober, right?) I DO... WAIT... I DO???... THAT WAS A TOTAL ******* FLUKE... you give me far to much credit... no that was a total coincidence

Q. Are there any characters you feel like you’re drawn to for whump?

A. Tango and Scott. [I]ts just because they feel so bright and spunky... so breaking them in different ways is really interesting... And it's different from like, Grian Pearl and Jimmy because with the three of them their fannon characters have such a wide expanse of styles that slotting them into the broken avian mindset wasn't impossible...it was tricky at times for Grian to write him being so docile and obedient because pesky bird and all but even still, with Tango it doesn't fit, and so finding a way to make it fit is super interesting! Same with Scott!

Q. Is there anyone who isn't easy/fun to whump?

A. Everyone is fun to whump in some way... As far as not easy ...Pearl has been tricky, mainly because I write her so as being so solid in her emotions usually

Q. Is there anything you think will surprise readers for the coming whumptober?

A. I think there's a lot more plot relevance than people realize on the way. Several of the fics are... crucial to the plot going forward.

Q. Do these writing challenges help you come up with some of the plot or does the plot just fall into them?

A. Both! The plot has it's shapes and curves already, but doing these writing challenges sometimes helps me put pins in specific themes to tie in important plot points and drive the au forward.

Q. Finally, is there anything readers should watch for and what day are you most excited for?

A. Day 10 and Day 25 will probably be the most plot relevant of the bunch! As well as Day 31! I'm personally the most excited to for Day 10, as I think it's going to be super amazing seeing the response to that from everyone who's been so kind as to follow my AUs for so long!!!! (Interviewer: It's a well done major ouchie) I love thinking about that as I'm writing, especially since both TT and TTSBC have gotten so much love, imagining what folks are going to comment and enjoy about it!

[roguegambitweek]

Romy Discord FanFic Rec List

In honor of Rogue/Gambit Week, some of the writers from the Romy Discord wanted to share some fics that we’ve written. 

With so much Romy love to share, we hope y’all find a new favorite or rediscover an old one. 

💚💖 Thanks for reading! 💖💚

Takes Two To Tango (or take down a Wild Sentinel) @aldreantreuperi by AldreanTreuPeri [ao3]

Rating: M | Universe: XtAS’97 | Words: 1,521 | Chapters: 1 | Status: Oneshot 

Summary: A battle is as much a dance as anything achieved on a dance floor…and having the proper partner can literally keep you alive… Episode 5 fix-it fic.

But Here We Are by AppleJ @applejacks1552 [ao3] 

Rating: M | Universe: Comics | Words: 32,978 | Chapters: 30 | Status: Complete 

Summary: They never thought this would be possible, but Rogue is uneXpectedly eXpecting. Yet nothing is ever THAT simple in the life of an X-Man. What secret will Gambit discover that complicates their happily-ever-after?

AppleJ says: Hmmmm ... why I wrote that fic in particular: First, because I wanted to make the fan theory that the twins (Maxime & Manon) were Romy kiddos real. Second, because I KNOW it will be a cold day in hell before Marvel ever gives Romy kids in the main 616 (like maybe long after I'm dead & they're out of storylines & they've already split/reunited them 5 times over?), so it seemed like fertile ground (pun intended). And third, because they say to write what you know & I wanted a pregnancy/birth story that reflected the reality that it isn't all sunshine & rainbows & certainty for many of us & that's okay too.

Mighty Thin Ice by Cajun_Hawk @cajunhawk [ao3] [ff.net]

Rating: E | Universe: Comics | Words: 138,942 | Chapters: 11 | Status: WIP 

Summary: Rogue is working hard to get her powers under control while she and Gambit have decided to take their relationship to the next level, in hopes of having something normal very soon. 

The Legacy of Dark Cerebro by Chellerbelle @chellerbelles [ao3] [ff.net]

Rating: T | Universe: Movies | Words: 45,064 | Chapters: 12 | Status: Complete 

Summary: What if X2 had ended differently? What if the X-Men hadn’t gotten to Professor Xavier in time and all the humans had died? Takes place 5 years after this alternate ending (exception of the prologue). 

Chelle says: After much indecision, I decided on The Legacy of Dark Cerebro. The opening scene had a special place in my heart, and New Sun vs Phoenix was on my fanfic bucket list for a long time. 🙂Also, this story seems a bit more “new reader” friendly than some of my other favourites, haha.

Risk and Reward by DayenuRose @dayenurose [ao3] [ff.net]

Rating: T | Universe: Comics | Words: 47,518 | Chapters: 13 | Status: Complete

Summary: There’s an old adage that goes, the greater the risk, the greater the reward. As a thief, Remy LeBeau know full well that oftentimes the greatest risks come with the greatest rewards. When he starts to fall for the enigmatic Rogue, Remy must decide if the risks are worth the possible reward. 

Rose says: This was one of the first Romy fics I’ve written. It was a real entry into Romy fandom for me. Everyone was so welcoming and kind in the comments. And during the process of writing this, it helped me come to a better understand of Gambit, Rogue, and their relationship. 💜

LeBeau’s Eleven by Ilargikat @ilargikat [ao3]

Rating: G | Universe: Comics | Words: 14,182 | Chapters: 6 | Status: WIP

Summary: Planning a heist is not easy, especially when you need special skills to pull it off. The luck of being an X-Men is that the skills are within reach, maybe not people willing to commit a heist.

Once. Now. Before. Always. by lovethelebeaux @lovethelebeaux [ao3]

Rating: M | Universe: Comics | Words: 10,179 | Chapters: 4 | Status: Complete

Summary: Four vignettes from four different time periods over the course of Rogue and Gambit’s relationship. 

Lovethelebeax says: Heehee I've only written like four things so this will be easier for me than most 😅 it's this one, my first in 20 years

The Tailor & The Seamstress by Ludi_Ling @ludi-ling [ao3] [ff.net]

Rating: M | Universe: X-Men |Words: 58,659 | Chapters: 13 | Status: Complete

Summary: Remy LeBeau is the creative lead at a waning fashion house in 1910 New York. Over the street is his employer’s rival, where a pretty and talented seamstress happens to work. Romance ensues, of course - in-between a friendly rivalry, that is. 

Ludi says: It was a tough call on which fic to choose, but I settled on this one because the last fic I write is always the one I'm most proud of, and this is the last one I completed! Last summer @narwhallove challenged me to write a Romy fic that played on my love of both them and of historical fashion. She threw some ideas at me, and I wrote nearly an entire chapter. Then, X-Men '97 starts, and I read back on what I wrote in July '23, and suddenly the rest of the story unfolds before me. I had a blast writing it! And I hope you have fun reading it too 😉

But I Can’t Trace Time by Sandmans_Raven @sandmansraven [ao3]

Rating: T | Universe: Comics | Words: 8,998 | Chapters: 1 | Status: Oneshot 

Summary: After a battle with the time-traveling mutant-hunter known as Ahab, Rogue is sent into the future. To get back, she must rely on old friends and put a stop to Ahab’s plans. 

Toys by Spaceorphan @spaceorphan18 [ao3]

Rating: T | Universe: Comics | Words: 1,619 | Chapters: 1 | Status: Oneshot 

Summary: Romy catches Remy playing with toy action figures of the X-Men. Shenanigans. Set in the 616 verse, but some fun meta-y references to XM97.

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap ZombieCleo, 6-23-24

((Did I jump the queue with this one and stay up especially late finishing it specifically because DocM77 asked on Twitter for someone to go over the stream with a fine-toothed comb and give him the salient details? MAYBE. I just hope I can figure out a way to get it to him so he sees it. Anyway, it's stupidly late, have a stream recap in which Scar's audio is a main character that never appears.))

0:00 Cleo opens the stream on the Hermitcraft server. She greets the False raiders and the chatters who were already here, even as she types to False in the game chat. She asks False if she is tired, False replies that she is boiling. Cleo suggests living in Scotland, where it is cool in both a literal and metaphorical sense. Cleo asks Chat if they are good. She herself thinks Chat is great because they are here. Cleo does not know if False shows appreciation for her chat enough, but promises that False does really appreciate them, probably. Chat appreciates False. Ren enters the server and gets an OMG HI from Cleo in chat. Cleo and Ren agree they need to play Plate Up again soon. Cleo will also drag False along on this Plate Up adventure, whether she wants to or not.

3:00 A chatter plays hydration check, so Cleo takes a drink and gives chat a bonus posture check as well. A chatter asks which is Cleo’s favorite punctuation mark. Cleo says it is the interrobang (‽) because it is great. The plan for today is to try and do some planning with Chat’s help, because Chat is smart and Cleo hasn’t got a plan. Cleo is also very concerned that Chat engage in self-care activities. They go full-screen vtuber to lead a mini stretching session and tell Chat they are important and loved.

5:10 The plan-planning process requires some signs. Cleo goes to get some while talking about how nice it is to live in Scotland where it’s not so hot. They thank subs and donos and try to make heart-hands after a nice message, but realize they have not put on their hand sensors. Maybe later for that. A chatter plays the Hotdogs On Your Face song. Mrs. Tango raids into the stream. Cleo goes full-screen again to welcome the raiders and give them the same niceness and self-care message. Cleo is feeling especially nurturing today and Chat is vibing with it.

8:20 Cleo stares at the sign she was about to place down and write the plan on, but she has forgotten it. She thanks subs and donos instead and remembers the plan. The plan is to plan out the city and mark places for Shrubberies, which must be pronounced in Knights that Say Ni fashion ((a reference to the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail.)), and other important landmarks. NJCoffeeJunkie raids in, but Cleo’s not doing the nurturing thing a third time in ten minutes. A chatter plays sour jelly bean.

10:30 Cameron, Cleo’s lead mod and partner, raids in. Cleo gives in and gives the full-screen nurturing self-care speech again. Cleo finally writes “Granery Food Storage” on the sign, declaring that she is not a teacher anymore and doesn’t need to spell. She shares the plan for the granary building and says hi to Scar in game chat. More thanks to subs and donos. A chatter suggests Scar has a power beyond this world, Cleo wouldn’t go that far but does agree that Scar is pretty dangerous. ((In Season 9, Joe Hills made it a point to greet Scar whenever he logged on, because otherwise Scar had a tendency to drop by his build and murder him. This may have had a lasting effect on Hermit behavior patterns.)) Cleo has a video coming out tomorrow that also involves Skizz and Joel, and it’s going to be fun.

14:20 Cleo shows off how they have spawn-proofed their front lawn area, mostly using glow lichen, which they insist must be pronounced with a short I sound, as in “finger-lickin’” because otherwise it sounds stupid. A chatter announces they came out to their parents and shouts out the gays. Cleo shouts out the gays, lesbians and all other groups and wishes everyone happy pride. They trail off when they realize that Ren has made a stone… “upside-down T” in one of the marked-off building squares. Cleo takes down the definitely-only-an-upside-down-T and replaces it with a sign declaring it the medical tent/emergency room area. Chat is not sure it was just a T. Cleo marks another square for Delivery of Supplies, right in front of the mailbox.

17:00 Cleo makes a big square for the Tavern, which will also be the town meeting hall. When the drama happens (and she doesn’t mean Theatre Kid Ren), they can come in here and plan. Cleo thinks about what else is needed. A boat dock maybe. Chat agrees that if D&D has taught them anything, it is that a tavern is the best place to make plans. Cleo agrees. Chat also suggests an armory. During this time, Cleo also seems to perceive that it is evening and tries to sleep. It does not work. Eventually Cleo realizes it is still daytime and is a bit confused. Chat suggests that night is an illusion. Cleo thinks about the best place to put an armory without blocking the sight lines of the little town. Chat suggests a school as well, but a town on a war footing does not need a school. She sketches out an armory and puts up a sign for where the docks will be.

22:50 Cleo starts trying to sleep again. She taps the bed for about 25 seconds before finally being allowed to sleep. A kitchen tent might be good on the hill, so that gets sketched out as well. A retaining wall for the hill will probably show up at some point. A chatter asks what era the village is supposed to be, Cleo says it’s going to be Magipunk. There will be motorbikes and magic robots. There might be some ruins as well. A chatter asks about the pile of Ren and False heads in the middle of the build area, Cleo says that’s Ren and False being Ren and False. A chatter suggests adding a watchtower, but that would be on top of the hill and Cleo has other plans for that area.

28:30 A chatter says that Scar needs help. Cleo says that if Scar needs help, Scar can ask for help. It is not polite to go into other peoples’ streams and ask for help for other people. Chat suggests a junkyard or scrap heap, but Cleo thinks this community is very into recycling and mending because they haven’t got much stuff. There will be a bunch of barracks tents, those get squares. Cleo needs one more big building. Chat makes a lot of suggestions. Cleo has run out of yellow wool to make plan squares with. They head to the shopping district.

31:40 Cleo hits up Wool Street and buys four stacks of yellow wool, then goes home. Wool Street does not have an ender chest, a clear violation of the Cub Rule, but Cleo pays anyway. Chat is becoming extremely distracted by whatever is happening in Scar’s stream, to the point where Cleo’s mod bans the word “Scar” temporarily. If Scar needs help, Cleo reiterates, Scar can speak to her himself. ((If this were a video recap, there would be a smash cut here to Scar’s stream, where his profound audio issues are currently causing everything he says to turn into an unbearable auditory hellscape until he is reduced to pantomime and beatboxing just to interact with his Chat. But Cleo has no way of knowing this.))

34:10 Chat finally comes up with the good suggestion of a campfire area in the center of town. Cleo agrees with this and decides a longhouse to go with it will do the trick. They begin sketching it out when Scar puts “cLEO!” “where are yyou?” into the chat. Cleo tells him they are at their base. Chat is extremely riled up by now, telling Cleo to run, to escape, pain is coming, prepare your ears. Cameron has caught wind of what is actually happening and tells Cleo it’s not good. Cleo does not know why they should be expected to run from Scar.

35:30 Scar approaches on foot, wearing his Poe Poe skin and hat. He doesn’t say anything. Cleo says hi to him several times. He continues not to say anything. Cameron lets Cleo know that Scar’s mic is looping all desktop audio. Cleo tells Scar that he’s wonderful and she wants him to know that, but the whole no-sound thing is actually extra-creepy. She suggests that she could make things much worse by going and getting her horns.

36:30 Ren flies in, playing one of his own horns. He is clearly well-informed about the situation and intends to make it as terrible as possible. “Burning in my ears,” he sings, “the mic is echoing! It is absolutely pain, in the earholes!” Scar flies away. Cleo admits she can’t hear Scar at all, but the song has her laughing. Ren says that he and his stream are watching Scar’s stream and it is _wild._ Cleo’s Chat is in emoji-only time out right now because talking about other streams is both against the rules and all anybody wants to do. Scar flies back to the waiting pair and Ren immediately begins chanting the beginning of “My Name Is” but he doesn’t actually know the words and mostly improvises. Cleo congratulates Scar on getting her stream put into emote-only. Scar does not respond ((partly because everything Cleo says is being shredded into the nonsense avalanche of sound looping on Scar’s stream and partially because Scar also hasn’t figured out how to unmute his mic in his current OBS configuration)). Scar flies away again.

38:00 Ren and Cleo discuss the wildness of the current situation. Cameron knows what is wrong with Scar’s audio equipment, but there’s nothing they can actually do. It’s not as though they can reach through the computer and get into Scar’s audio equipment. Scar flies back, having successfully unmuted at least, and yells at them to help him. Cleo reiterates that they can’t, while Ren begins beatboxing. Cleo tells Scar he needs to reboot, but there is no way that is getting through overtop the terrible audio mess that Ren is creating. “If I say something I just echo!” Scar yells. “Echo, echo, echo!” Ren starts beatboxing again, because he is terrible. Scar flies away again. Cleo tells Ren he is mean. Funny, but mean. They are both laughing pretty hard.

40:10 In the spirit of attempting to actually be helpful, Cleo begins writing Cam’s suggestion about the problem into game chat, but is interrupted by Scar flying back while singing “Have you heard the take of Mr. Kirkland and his four-pound pie?” Ren adds backup vocals. Cleo is trying really hard to impart some actual information but it is totally buried under the audio barrage that is completely inaudible on this stream. Cleo tells Scar that he is the best, he has completely derailed everything. That isn’t bad, it’s just funny. Cleo spends a lot of streams just listening to Scar.

41:50 Ren apparently closes or mutes Scar’s stream and heaves a sigh, saying he really feels like he’s been somewhere else. Cleo bets Scar wishes he were somewhere else. A chatter plays sour jellybean. Cleo says the funniest part is when Scar unmutes suddenly to say something. Ren begins playing his guitar over his mic. “It’s getting WORSE!” Scar yells suddenly and flies away again. “You’re a mean, mean man,” Cleo tells Ren. The two of them agree that this is pretty satisfying karma for all the trolling Scar has ever done to them. Cleo shows off some of the planning they have been doing with all the wool squares. Ren looks at the 3x3 square marked off for a tent and suggests dubiously that it is a small space for a tent. Cleo assures him it’ll be fine, it’ll be made out of pants. It takes Ren a minute for figure out that the tent will be an armor stand sculpture, not a build. He thinks it’s cool.

44:30 Scar returns once more! Ren and Cleo sing to him. He flies away again. Ren turns on the stream and reports that the audio is definitely not fixed. He tells Cleo that when Scar comes back, they need to hit him with some Bohemian Rhapsody. Cleo agrees, so long as Ren handles the high parts. Ren wants to do the low parts. They practice. Cleo does have a little uncertainty on the high notes and neither of them are sure of the words, but they do a credible job. Chat is very enthusiastic about it.

46:00 Scar comes back again. His audio is still not fixed. Ren and Cleo sing to him. Chat speculates on how many horns could be made just from the shenanigans of the past thirty minutes. They forget the words and jump ahead to the “MAMAAAA” portion. Cleo decides to actually be helpful and tabs out to start sending information and screenshots from Cameron to Scar that might help fix his problem. While Cleo is tabbed out, there is no visual indicator like a menu screen but the game does freeze, leading to the strange phenomenon of Scar audibly being killed by a drowned, complete with hitting and screaming, while appearing completely fine and motionless onscreen. Chat is confused.

47:30 Cleo tabs back into the game to find the drowned attacking them now. They scold it for being on land and kill it, then survey the bits and piece Scar left scattered around as Ren tries in vain to describe the complete audio chaos that is Scar’s stream. Cleo spots Scar’s _enormous_ Poe Poe hat and starts laughing. Neither of them have any inventory space to pick up any of the scattered belongings. Ren makes a chest and does his best while thinking about other songs that he can loop into Scar’s audio purgatory. He asks Cleo if she knows a song that he describes completely as “Dadadadada, dadadadadada.” Cleo does know it enough to dadada along. ((Chat identifies the song as Sandstorm, by Darude.)) He collects up the Poe Poe hat and puts it on. The effect is striking, especially considering that his skin already has glasses. Cleo is impressed. She tells Ren she’s never said this to anyone before, but he should be a member of the Poe Poe.

49:50 Scar returns, naked but for his spare wings. He asks timorously if he can have his things. It seems possible for a moment that Scar’s audio issues are corrected, but no luck. Ren throws back all of Scar’s items, then absolutely engulfs him in the monstrous entity that is the Poe Poe hat. Cleo dissolves in laughter again. Ren starts in with Sandstorm. Cleo tells Scar that she doesn’t mind if he kills Scar. Scar says Ren might have his axe. Ren does, and throws it back while still “dadadadadada”-ing. Scar sets off several flight rockets, apparently just to add to the chaos Cleo cannot hear. Cleo tells Scar he is awesome, but whatever he is going through, she cannot relate. It is funny that Ren is being the menace right now, she says, because usually that’s Scar’s job. There’s a moment of silence, then Cleo asks Ren how long he thinks it’ll be before Scar mutes them. “Let’s keep complimenting me,” Scar suggests instead. “I like that part.” Ren starts playing guitar again. In chat, Cameron is clearly itching for a way to actually reach through the computer and fix Scar’s audio equipment.

51:50 Scar thinks he’s figured something out. He’s only getting one echo now, which is a big improvement from the four or five he’s been hearing. Cleo asks if Scar’s done the troubleshooting Cam suggested. Scar says he tried, but he’s not seeing any of the stuff Cam said he should see. Ren whispers to his Chat that he thinks they muted him. Cleo says they did not, they’re just ignoring him. Cleo reminds him that they are trying to be nice to Scar, which is quite difficult. Ren doesn’t know anything about that, he is trying to make loop tracks.

52:20 “Oh, like this is your Woodstock,” Cleo realizes. Ren agrees. “What about wood?” Scar asks. Cleo sighs and asks why Scar is like this, but Scar has clearly gotten an immediate dose of karma in the form of an innuendo that will not stop looping in his audio feed. He regrets everything. Cleo asks with some disbelief if he actually understands what he just said. Scar says he does because it won’t stop repeating in his ears. If he hears one more thing about wood he’ll go crazy! Cleo has had an epiphany. Could this be Scar’s conscience, a force that simply repeats the exact things he says back to him?

53:00 Cleo tries to help Scar disable desktop audio. This helps, but does not eliminate the problem. Cleo and Cam believe it is desktop audio and Scar is just not finding the correct source. Ren begins chanting the “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck” rhyme, because he is terrible. Scar gives up and leans into it, telling Ren to do the woodchuck thing again. Clearly those two are hearing a lot that Cleo is not hearing right now.

54:50 Scar is silent for a moment, then comes back and says he may have figured it out. “Oh?” Cleo asks. Scar asks if hypothetically, someone were to have three open sources of their own stream in the background on their desktop, could that cause this. Cleo answers “yes” in the carefully controlled voice of someone who wants to say so very, very much more. In the chat, Cameron has been reduced to ellipses. Cleo reminds Scar that the very first thing they asked him was if he had his stream open in the background. Scar admits he had three tabs of his stream open, but they were minimized so he didn’t see them. Apparently he had some trouble linking when he was trying to tweet out his stream start, and that eventually led to… all of this. Chat is melting down. Ren tells Scar “You are easily in my top ten favorite humans.” Scar cannot hear him because, on top of everything else, he is working with a broken pair of headphones old enough to be starting intermediate school in the fall. Ren types it into the game chat.

56:00 Scar adjusts Ren’s audio and tells him he has pumped him up so he can hear better. Cleo says Ren does not need pumping up, that Ren comes fully inflated at all times. Chat wants a clip of that immediately. Scar claims that nothing like this has ever happened to him before. Cleo says at least they know what the problem was now: ineptitude! Ren admits that he gave up on helping immediately and embraced the chaos. Cleo tries to say that they could help a little by passing along Cameron’s advice, but is interrupted by Scar audibly dropping his headset. Chat is just having the best time right now.

57:20 Cleo asks Scar if he’s going to get a new headset. He says “not yet” in the vocal tone of a talking dog who knows he is the one who ate all the ham. She asks why and he explains he hasn’t decided what he wants yet, and also he hates spending money. Exasperated, Cleo reminds him that this is his JOB. Scar snicker laughs and says he was thinking today that he probably does need to have a burial for this headset. He can bury it in the garage. She suggests “burying” it with a ten pound hammer. Scar says he gets sentimental and weird and very specific things: his sunglasses and this headset. He’s had the headset longer than he’s been on Hermitcraft! ((Scar joined Hermitcraft in Season 4, which started in early 2016, meaning that the headset is a minimum of eight years old and probably older.)) Cleo is appalled and insists that this proves the exact point she was trying to make. At some point the headset was good but now it is ancient and diseased and needs to be put out of its misery. Scar insists that it’s not diseased because he has replaced the ear cups several times. A brief discussion of the Headset of Theseus ensues before Cleo rejects the whole premise.

59:30 Cleo points out that if Scar’s headset is over ten years old, he is going to hear _so much_ better when it is replaces. Scar insists that it’s a good headset and gets very nostalgic about how many Hermitcraft meetings have come through that headset, but Cleo would rather not. Ren suggests that Scar needsto take the headset in a field and deal with it Office Space style. ((A famous scene in the movie Office Space involves smashing a printer to bits with a bat.)) This actually seems to appeal to Scar. The three also discuss the merits and risks of a viking funeral for the headphones. Scar likes the idea because it involves a flaming arrow. Apparently Scar did some archery when he was young and even got a couple bullseyes. His archery career was ended when his brother broke the windows on the shed with an arrow and got the bow taken away. Ren says he is scared of bow and arrows because of a time in boarding school where an older boy bullied the new kids by shooting an arrow straight into the air and making them run away from it.

1:02:00 Scar shoots an arrow into the air to illustrate the story. Ren says that brings back painful memories, yes. Scar tells them that this is the first arrow of the new HotGuy bow, because he fell into lava again yesterday and lost everything. Chat is still pretty hung up on Ren’s story. Cleo sighs that at some point they are going to just have to give Scar some kind of frequent flier discount at the bookshop. Scar clears his throat and says it’s nice that Cleo mentioned that because there is a situation where some snails stole all his diamonds… Cleo asks if he stole books from the shop. He insists that it wasn’t stealing because he is going to pay it back! He paid half at the time and the other half is on layaway, which in his mind apparently involves getting to take the items before you have finished paying for them. Cleo insists that they can’t get a new trophy with layaway diamonds!

1:02:40 Scar and Cleo find common ground over the fact that they are both currently the plaintiffs in server lawsuits. Scar is embroiled in a dispute with some snails and a man named Big Ron who may or may not be Mumbo, while Cleo is suing Doc for killing a pig they had a special emotional attachment to. Cleo’s suin’ papers have been delivered and Ren should expect a subpoena at any point. Ren says he’s not going to appear in court for less than a stack of diamonds, suggesting he is not super-familiar with the subpoena power in general and “things a witness should probably not say” in specific. Scar, confused, asks if Ren is Cleo’s lawyer. Cleo clarifies that Ren is a witness. Skizz is Cleo’s lawyer. Scar is sorry to hear that and offers his condolences to Cleo. Cleo says it’s fine because the other lawyer is Joe. She is also not going to say what she did to the judge. She clears her throat and moves on.

1:03:30 Ren reiterates the fact that if Cleo were to see her way clear to making a substantial amount of diamonds appear in Ren’s mailbox, he might just become a very enthusiastic and helpful witness. Cleo insists that all she really wants is for Doc to suffer. Ren says he just wants to make some profit off the situation. Cleo asks points out that Ren is supposed to be married to Doc. Scar agrees and says that it’s not right to get in the middle between family. He asks Cleo if this is about the pig. “Yeah, it’s about the pig,” Cleo admits, sounding a bit embarrassed about it at this point. Cleo is suing for intentional infliction of emotional distress.

1:04:10 Ren informs Scar that there was A MURDER. Scar knows about the murder, it’s tied into his investigation and he has zero leads and he doesn’t know what to do because Doc is expecting results! Cleo is confused until Scar clarifies that as a member of the Poe Poe, he is charged with investigating the diamond ore thefts that were the instigating incident for the pig murder but he has zero leads and he doesn’t know what to do. Ren immediately tells Scar he’s barking up the wrong tree because Ren of course knows absolutely nothing about the diamond snitcher and can be of no help whatsoever. Scar finds that immediate reaction very suspicious. Cleo doesn’t know from suspicions or diamond filchers, all they know is that there’s a diamond thief and it caused their pig to die. Ren admits that it is possible that his quick denial might have sounded a bit suspicious.

1:05:20 Ren admits that he was trying so hard to sound not-suspicious that he accidentally wrapped right back around to suspicious again. Scar laughs and tells him he “pulled an Impulse,” referencing Impulse’s frequent behavior from Friday Night Among Us streams. Scar decides that he has a new prime suspect. Cleo is not sure Doc will believe Ren took the diamonds. Ren says he couldn’t have thought of the prank and even if he had, he wouldn’t have the follow-through to actually do it. Cleo thinks about it and decides yeah, Ren probably doesn’t have the energy. Scar laughs and protests that he already used that as his excuse and nobody believes him!

1:06:20 Cleo says it can’t be her because she has no energy or patience to poke Doc and then have to listen to Doc rant on and on about how terrible the punishment raining down is going to be, only to have him never deliver. Ren wants to plead his case some more, but Scar is too busy laughing at Cleo’s declaration. He agrees that Doc did dole out some punishment last season, but that the threats are mostly bluster. He does a very terrible Doc impression. Cleo does another Doc impression that is also terrible but in a different way. Scar goes to sleep and Cleo points out that this area is mob proofed. Ren points out that Scar literally just died to a zombie. Cleo has to admit that’s true, but it was a water zombie. Scar points out that he died and they both just LET IT HAPPEN. Cleo protests that she was tabbed out. Ren says he was too busy looping.

1:07:40 Cleo offers Ren the opportunity to tell his story and prove his innocence. Ren goes back to the distant days of Season 8 when he and Doc were living in each others’ pockets, basically in voice chat all day long. Cleo offers condolences for that, but thinks it might make Ren more likely to want to commit a crime. Ren insists no, the opposite! He offers as character evidence the fact that False won Demise this year in part because Ren decided not to target her at the end of the game and in fact helped her although he had no reason to do so. Ren is very loyal to his particular people, and Doc is one of them, so therefore QED Ren cannot possibly be the ore snatcher.

1:08:50 “So you’re saying it’s False,” Scar summarizes. Cleo agrees that is what they got from the story as well. Ren insists that False is way too busy to be doing ore snatching with all the river building, etc. Cleo agrees that this is true, except that Ren just told them it was False. “Did I?” he asks, bewildered. Scar and Cleo both heard it. Scar says sometimes you just need to stop talking because you just keep digging, a subject he himself is well-versed in. Cleo says Ren is incapable of stopping talking. Ren suggests pulling footage of several Among Us streams to prove something about his character, but Cleo interrupts, saying that if they’re pulling footage, Cleo can just pull the bit showing Ren killing the pig. Cleo corrects herself a moment later to say Doc killing the pig, but Ren seizes on the slip as the reason innocent folks like himself get sent to jail. Chat is going to clip that and then everyone is going to think he’s the pig murderer. The soundbite where he says “I’m the pig murderer” in a low sinister voice probably will also not help his clip issues.

1:10:30 Scar moves the conversation along by suggesting more Hermits as potential suspects. This turns into an incredibly lengthy and wide-ranging conversation that is much more concisely summed up in the Reddit document devoted to it. Cub eventually joins in as well to defend himself from some accusations against himself and to throw out some of his own. Joe comes along as well a little later but is less interested in levying accusations and more interested in litigating the unfairness of the fact that he had the idea to mess with the diamond ore first but someone else ran with it and has caused a commotion that could have been his. The conversation lasts for nearly an hour.

2:06:00 The argument turns to whether or not a sophisticated redstoner would be required in order to snatch the ores out of Doc’s machine without breaking it. ((There was an early belief that Ore Snatch #2 did break the machine, but careful video analysis reveals that Doc simply did not notice the ore when it was first removed and that the machine remained unbroken until later on when Ren and Scar came over during Ren’s stream and Ren poked at it. That is actually how the armor stand deployed and the inventory shifted.)) Most of the Hermits present claim to have not even seen the redstone circuitry in question, so a field trip is obviously in order. They all fly over to the armor trim shop.

2:07:20 Scar plays the Poe Poe Siren horn as they fly to the shop, which probably makes this an official Poe Poe visit of some sort. They land outside the shop and Ren worries about spoilers, but most of the shop has been around for awhile. Scar gets distracted by a wandering trader while the rest of the group goes into the shop to look around. Ren points out one of the circuits where a replaced ore block is still visible, commenting that looking down into the circuitry is enough to make him feel panicky. Cleo looks at the armor stands instead and mostly feels offended. Joe points out that most of the redstone circuitry is inert while the machine is not active. As long as one doesn’t touch a block that is powered or, like, pseudopowered? He cannot remember the correct word ((possibly something to do with quasiconnectivity?)) but as long as someone wasn’t removing a block that powered something, they should be able to do it with no trouble.

2:08:20 Cleo abandons the redstone discussion to fiddle with the armor stands that are particularly offending her. One statue has the arm buried inside the chest and that is just unacceptable. She fixes the armor stand to give the statue a more natural posture. Joe says that surely it’s fine and Doc definitely will not get upset about people adjusting things in this room, of all places. Cleo scoffs and says Doc won’t know. The others begin discussing whether the shop is actually open for business, with Joe deliberately muddying the waters by pointing out that the shop must be open because it has no door or anything keeping people from walking inside. Cleo continues making small adjustments to the postures of the statues and is busy with a fish-headed model when suddenly the alarm goes off. It is impossible to tell from Cleo’s perspective who broke the block that triggered the alarm, but all the Hermits who entered the building are still on the main sales floor when she turns around to look. ((Ren’s POV on this is also useless as he was freecamming into the redstone, but Scar’s stream POV shows that Cub placed a magma block at the top of the front doorframe of the shop and broke it, which triggered the alarm. It’s not clear what Cub was doing, but “being a smartass about the is-the-shop-open question” is a fairly safe bet.))

2:09:10 Ren warns everyone to stay up top as the alarm system is dangerous. Scar immediately notices that there is now a Warden in the depths of the machine. Cleo laughs and reminds everyone to be quiet. All the Hermits mill around on the glass display floor to try and get a glimpse of the Warden. Scar asks why it’s not attacking them all. Cleo suggests that it might be distracted by the noise of the alarm itself. Ren says it’s just climbing the stairs and they’d better get going. The world turns black. The Hermits flee.

2:10:20 The Hermits regroup on the grassy lawn well outside Doc’s shop. Cleo is still laughing pretty hard. Ren says “So yeah, that’s the scene of the crime.” Cub wonders if the wandering trader will be killed by the warden. Scar is worried; that trader has gilded blackstone miniblocks and Scar wants him alive. The Warden does not appear to be making an appearance now that everyone has left, though. Cub, Joe and Scar head back towards the building to see what’s happening inside, but Cub and Scar turn back well before the door, driven back by the obnoxious noises of the alarm. Joe goes straight into the building. Ren speculates why someone would want to investigate now, if not to find better ways to get in later. Scar points out that with the alarm already tripped, it’s basically free game now until Doc resets it. Joe only stays inside for a few moments before coming back out. Scar shoots an arrow at him but doesn’t connect.

2:11:40 Somewhat belatedly, the group starts to wonder what triggered the alarm. Cleo suggests that surely someone must have gone down into the redstone. Ren suddenly wonders whether freecam possibly could’ve activated it. Cub pooh-poohs that idea but nobody else is sure. Ren says it’s not a very good alarm if it can trigger just from a customer entering the shop. ((Ren is acting like he doesn’t know what triggers the alarm, which is strange since he helped test it and should know full well that it is breaking blocks.)) Chat knows that the alarm trigger is breaking blocks. Cub admits he placed and broke some magma blocks. Cleo demands to know whether they can set off the alarm so easily, by just setting down a block and breaking it. They are going to annoy Doc _so much _ with this knowledge. Scar suddenly realizes that this means there is very little effective way to pay for items in the shop, since pulling a wallet from a shulker box, placing it down and picking it up again would trigger the alarm. It is not, they decide, a very good alarm system.

2:12:40 Cub decides he’s going in. The others stay outside and talk about whether or not they were scared of the warden, a bell curve that seems to have a lot to do with how much they played the lower levels of Decked Out 2. Cub types in chat that it’s fine, then flies back and tells them that he did get blasted. “Nice,” Cleo compliments. Cleo is of two minds whether they should all keep their mouths shut or leave some kind of sign at the door for Doc. Scar is worried about property damage, but the sonic shriek does not break blocks, only players. Cleo does like the idea of Doc thinking his alarm caught the culprit, then getting linked to the stream and realizing it is just a bunch of bumbling Hermits. They also think it is funny that now the Glitcher actually can do anything they want in the next few hours until the alarm is reset. Nobody else knows the name “The Glitcher,” or at least they are pretending not to. Cleo consults with Chat and passes along the knowledge that the name The Glitcher was provided to Doc on a sign after one of the ore thefts. Scar thinks that this new name sounds a lot like the work of one Cubfan and plays his Darth Vader breathing horn in an attempt to intimidate him into a confession. It does not work. In the background, Joe has left the group and gone back towards the shop, but drops out of sight at the base of the sand pile and eventually flies back around to rejoin the group without actually going inside.

2:15:10 Cub pushes the Grian and/or Scar theory again, but that’s been discussed before. Ren decides that after an hour and fifteen minutes, they are not even a tiny bit closer to figuring out whodunnit. But there is a warden in the shop now, so that’s something? Scar thinks that a warden has got to be bad for Doc’s business, right? Cleo doesn’t believe that Doc cares at all about the success of his business, mostly because he’s being paid in sand. Doc is just being dramatic. Cub circles back around to “The Glitcher” and the quotation marks around it are audible. He asks if it’s true there was a sign. He and Scar both want to see a screenshot from Chat. Chat thinks Cub is pretending a little too hard.

02:17:00 Cleo and Ren both suggest putting up signs purporting to be from the Glitcher, solely for the purpose of trolling Doc. Scar insists that they cannot do that, he is the investigator and he is supposed to be _helping._ Ren thinks it would be very funny to have a sign reading “Soz for tripping your alarm, -The Pincer” (Or Pincher, it’s hard to say.)) Cleo gives him a sign and tells him to have at it. Scar protests loudly again and says they can’t do that. Ren clearly considers it, but then says he cannot do it either, he is Doc’s husband. Cleo grabs the sign and runs for the shop.

2:18:40 Cleo braves the terrible noises of the shop to place a sign in the doorway reading “LOL, Failed Again!” Ren is right behind her and protests that she didn’t add the part about The Pincer. She agrees she did not, because that is LAME. Scar gets the screenshot he wanted from his Discord chat and suddenly remembers Doc talking about these signs. Apparently Doc saw that there was a misspelling on one of the signs and (in Scar’s words) decided to blame the dumbest guy in the crew. Cub also believes that a misspelled sign points in Scar’s direction. The new sign is not going to serve well as a piece of evidence, given that there is a lot of stream evidence about who placed it and why and when, but Cleo doesn’t care. Doc deserves to be wound up, he murdered Cleo’s pig.

2:19:50 Ren has to admit that even though Doc is his husband, he does have something to answer for when it comes to Pig Murder. Scar is paying attention to his chat for once, he tells the others to hang on because an investigation is taking place in his Discord. While Scar is so ostentatiously distracted, Cleo begins handing out a few judicious gifts of diamonds, though the stream lag inherent in a bunch of hermits together leaves a lot of room for them to steal from one another. Cleo becomes convinced that Joe has become the recipient of diamonds they intended to go elsewhere and begins beating him like a pinata in the hopes they will disgorge. In the background, Scar announces that his chat believes Big Salmon is behind the whole thing, but he has no idea what that means. Joe flies away. Scar swears he saw Grian walking around near Doc’s shop, but Cleo has no POV angle to confirm or deny that. Cameron informs Cleo that Ren got the diamonds and is lying about it. Cleo congratuates Grian on some excellent trolling. They go up to the shop, but do not find Grian. Cleo thinks that sneaking in under everyone’s noses for trolling is huge Grian energy.

2:22:20 Ren finds a sign on the sand store that was not there earlier. “Sorry about your alarm, Scar, Chief Investigator.” Scar swears he did not put it there, and indeed he would’ve had a very hard time doing so because he has been moving and talking with the group basically the entire time. Ren insists the sign is there, and it was even glow-inked. Cub says that must’ve been Grian, so Grian is a suspect too. Even as he says it, Joe throws a handful of glow inks out of his inventory and onto the ground. Scar notices it right away. Cleo points the finger at Joe. Joe says he said ten minutes ago that he was going to put up a sign on Scar’s behalf apologizing for the alarm, but nobody ever listens to him. Cleo laughs and says they love it when a plan comes together, they just wish it was theirs. The others are skeptical. Scar points out that Cleo is really pumping the ego of whoever did this and that’s a little suspicious. Cleo says that if they were the culprit, they would’ve told everyone. Joe points out that Cleo could’ve told everyone and it might not have changed anything. After all, Joe told everyone he was going to place the sign and nobody listened to that! Cleo points out that people actually listen to them.

2:24:30 Scar has a thought, forgets it immediately, then immediately remembers it again. He wants to know why his Chat is so insistent that it is Beef. ((Scar’s chat is very devoted to the Big Salmon Theory.)) Why would it be Beef? Cleo laughs and says every single one of them knows why it isn’t Beef right now, and that Beef is too busy to be getting up to any kind of shenanigans. The others agree and warn Scar not to say anything or else there will be real trouble. Scar suggests that Beef’s gonna have a beef with him, but he doesn’t offer any further hints. ((Cleo is obliquely referring to an announcement Beef will make the next day; he and his wife are expecting their first child and thus Beef has way bigger salmon to fry than moonlighting as the Ore Snatcher.)) Cub explains that Beef was part of the Big Salmon consortium that feuded with Doc and Big Wood at the start of the season, but that feud is pretty much over now. They all admire the Big Salmon floating in the Hourglass.

2:26:00 Scar reports that his Chat has turned around on the Beef question, they believe Cleo that it cannot be Beef. The group goes back to trying to decide who the Ore Snatcher actually is, aside from Joe who is still mad it isn’t him. They each go around the circle and give Scar a theory, but none of them seem better supported than the others. Scar says this is all useless, but he’s going to go get a search warrant to search everyone’s storage systems. Ren asks if Scar is going to search his own storage system, perchance? Scar says he’ll have Doc do it. Ren is satisfied by that. Cleo says that’ll definitely work, because nobody on this server except the culprit has deepslate diamond ore, surely.

2:29:00 Scar’s favorite theory is that it was Doc himself, causing drama by stealing his own diamonds. The others think that’s a funny theory. Joe says his favorite theory is that the Scicraft guys got in touch with Karin, Doc’s partner, and gave her detailed instructions on how to carry out the thefts in retribution for unspecified petty wrongs. Whenever Doc is out of the house with Doccy, she’s sneaking onto the server with his account and stealing the diamonds based on detailed tutorials. Scar loves this idea. Ren asks if that means Karin has to come to court. Nobody is sure if she even has a Minecraft account. She might have to make one to come to court.

2:30:40 Cleo laughs and suggests that this has all been a big ploy to jump-start Karin’s YouTube career. Joe is taken by this idea and suggests it would be an amazing spinoff series, Karin and Mrs. Tango and Lizzie Shadow-Beans, but they’re all thieves. Ren puts forth a suggestion from his chat that maybe it _is_ Lizzie, pranking Doc when Joel is out of the house. Cleo thinks Karin is a more likely suspect than Lizzie. Scar admits it’s unlikely, but hilarious. Cleo says that now it is imperative that some Hermit’s spouse begins pranking the server. Joe says that now that his fiance Badgerspanner has heard that, she’s going to demand to be able to do it. Cleo laughs and points out that Joe will get blamed for that. Joe cheerfully announces that he knows, and it’s just going to make more work for Cleo because she’s going to have to explain to him why, when everybody thought it was a funny idea during this stream. Scar suddenly chimes in with “Desperate Hermitwives” from his Chat.

2:32:50 Cleo wants to wrap up, but she stays long enough to hear one more Bdubs theory. Ren wants to know what better way there could be to get people into the court for lawsuits than by causing a bunch of trouble? Cub likes that idea, but Cleo and Scar argue about whether the court actually costs money. Cub is still accusing Scar though, saying that nobody has more to gain from crimes on the server than the Poe Poe. Scar protests, saying he and Bdubs are the Judicial system and devoted to stopping crime! Because the police are never corrupt, right? The argument continues for a moment until Scar finally says “I touched Doc’s boring machine, I blew it up, I banged it too hard, and I’m not interested in banging Doc’s redstone anymore.”

2:34:35 There is a moment of silence. Cleo announces she is leaving. It’s been a lovely stream, they should do this again sometime never. She flies away laughing and insisting that nobody should ever ask Scar why, because No. Cleo apologizes to Chat for getting nothing useful done, but Chat clearly does not care. Cleo goes back to full screen to thank subs and donos, then says that even though she didn’t plan a lot, she did technically plan the plan, which was the plan all along. So that’s something. Cleo raids into Rendog and (with a brief interruption from Joe and his train whistle) ends their stream.

[gaylotusthatexists]

i lied i haven’t calmed down *opens a google doc*

okay. i’ve calmed down now. time to delve into some other povs

[brights-place]

Can I request queen barb with a cute subby soft reader sfw & nsfw headcanons pls.

Barb dating an SUB! Reader

Pairings: Barb X Reader Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, SFW A/N: I LOVE BARB SHE IS SO AWOOGAAAA! I love this so much it's everything to me and plus I need to write some of this so I don't cry cause matpat is quitting...

Sfw Headcannons for barb

- I LOVE BARB OML!

- When you first met your interaction was sweet "hmm. I like your ears" You said smiling "M-Mine?" You nodded "Mhm!" "Thank you! I-I like your spots...!" You tilted your head blushing "Really? I use to cover them up but Y'know" you shrugged - She is always by your side and making sure you are ok in public areas.

- Would flex about having an partner to everyone mainly to other rock trolls but when she introduced you to her dad she was so shy but she knew he was supportive literally nearly teared up but sucked it up quickly seeing her two favorite people together - Barbs father is such an important aspect of her life so being introduced to him is a major privilege so meeting him is an whole thing its important to her and him accepting you makes her happy - She likes holding you close to her knowing your beside her makes her relax - she wrapped her tail around your own tail she would wrap your hair with hers but I don't think they use their hair a lot like using it to catch themselves so they just wrap each others tails together - if your an different genre of troll she'd love you and try to listen your own music even though she finds it weird... but she'd do her best but if your the same genre with her that's just an bonus - out of all the rock trolls you were the most soft hearted and welcoming which was what made her fall for you - On trolls world tour you didn't really like the idea of taking all the other genres and making them all - Barb is very hands-on and at times quite hyper so the two of you seem to always be doing something but when needed to you might have to walk over and tug her arm to make her relax for an moment - Barb lives in the moment, never really taking too much time to think about the future. - She makes sure to make you flustered whenever she can at any moment. - She loves having you either sitting on her lap or you being on top of her in general to hug you She just can’t have you away from her too long she's clingy - Loves how you melt into her arms if she shows you the slightest bit of affection or compliments you

- When you're in public, Barb is touching you. - Whether a subtle touch or not, she's either holding your hand or having her arms wrapped around you

Nsfw Headcannons for Barb

- SHE IS AN DOM! I TELL YOU SHE IS AN DOM! - Thighs and Boobs woman she loves them so much squish them against her face she'll giggle and please the shit outta you - She loves how you submit to her so fast when she glides her hands on your waist and whispers lustfully in your ears - She’s an rough kisser and would pepper your face with kisses whenever she can - I BET! She has an tongue piercing that would eat you out so well! - This chick is an HUGE teaseee - She’ll grab you by your waist and say the most gut retching and suggestive thing in the world while holding you

- If you ask her to man handle you or hurt you in the process of the doing the devils tango SHE WOULD DO IT! - Literally loves teasing you any chance she gets but would wanna be reassured every once in a while to make sure she’s not hurting you too bad and would make sure you feel alright - Hate sex and jealousy sex is everything like have you seen her? She gets mad real easily!

- What are her turn on's? Biting, Kissing her neck or cheek, challenging her, and affection - What are her turn offs? talking about your ex regularly, Cheating, bad breath, and Poor hygiene - favorite positions are the slider, the lean in, the rocket, Cowgirl and doggy (When she wears an strap on) - Her kinks would be BDSM, Marking You, Biting, Bondadge, over stimulation, and anything else she is open to anything to do - she loves how you melt into her arms moaning and whining - When she overstimulates you she smirks and enjoys how your eyes roll back - She traces her fingers down your cheeks and wipes away your tears. she whispers gentle words that will comfort you and make you feel at ease while making you feel good. - When you cum on her tongue she smirks and makes sure to overstimulate you more gripping onto your thighs as you moan loudly gripping her hair - When done she praises you with an huge smile and hugs you - She carries you to the bathroom to clean you up for after care. Makes sure to give you her shirt for you to sleep in

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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