#whoever reads this; you absolutely can build a nice cave in minecraft; I believe in you on this

[medicinemane]

Had someone at one point ask about with making caves if I just modified ones I'd found or what, and while that's some of what I do, a lot of the time I just dig out shapes like this (the start of a new cave section)

Like this is how I make caves, just dig out a nice looking shape. I actually missed and the caves didn't line up, so I added that little bend between them, and you know what? It's better than a stable curve. There's no wrong way to make a cave, just go with the flow

The next step's gonna be to shape them, get something looking like this. Just all smooth stone. I've done this in both survival and creative, and the process is the same in both (I just wind up with a lot more smooth stone stairs in my storage when I'm done if I build in in survival, cause most of this gets ripped out)

Then in the end it ends up looking something like this once I've retextured it (that one pic is on moody lighting, I like to check how my stuff looks in moody both to check to really dark spots and cause I think it does look atmospheric)

So that really is the steps to making a cave from scratch. Dig out a tunnel in roughly the shape you like, keep rounding it, like those first pictures are not there yet, they're just the bare bones shape

Then you shape it with smooth stone for a uniform texture. I like using lots of stairs and slabs, but even for a full block style that's still a good idea, helps you avoid being distracted by a ton of different textures

Then you come in and tear bits out and replace it with stuff like andesite, but really whatever you think looks good. Then finishing touches like glowberries or grass or anything like that

[madqueenalanna]

The Bet, 1/2

Pairing: Jeremy Dooley/Reader (female) Rating: Explicit Word count: 3,084 Summary: You and Jeremy bet on who can go longer without asking for sex, on the condition the winner gets to top the loser. It’s a lot harder than you think. Read: HERE on AO3 or below the cut

The guys were filming Minecraft when you got back into the office. It was a ‘just find a bunch of shit’ type of episode, so there would be a lot of material to cut; a bunch of fun to film, in your opinion, but just terrible to edit. “Ayy, look who’s back,” Michael bellowed.

“Oh, good,” said Jack. “I have to leave, come play as me.”

Well, you could never turn that offer down. You took Jack’s seat and wished him farewell before trying to figure out just what the hell you were supposed to be doing.

“Thought you were watching Always Open,” Geoff said, half a question. “What the fuck are you doing back already?”

“Nice to see you too, Geoffrey. If you all must know, they started talking about kinks, and then Lindsay’s answers revealed a little more than I wanted to know about her relationship with Michael. I high-tailed it out of there before I learned anything else I didn’t want to think about.”

“Now I’m curious,” Ryan said, glancing at you. “What did she say?”

“Oh, she tops Michael like a plastic couple on a wedding cake, dude.”

Michael snorted. “Bitch has no idea what she’s talking about.” You could feel the lie, though. Lindsay hadn’t really been that explicit, more confirmation that they didn’t have a strong Dom-sub dynamic in either dynamic, but it was funny to get under Michael’s skin a bit.

“I can buy it,” Gavin said, before Michael kicked his chair.

“Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, Gav, like Meg doesn’t own your ass.” Ryan laughed, and Michael rounded on him too. “And like you’re not the most whipped guy in the office.”

“Hey! Why am I getting attacked now? What did I do?”

“He’s right though,” you said. “If you ever once topped your wife I’d be shocked. Same with you, Geoff.”

“I’m admitting nothing,” he said. “Kdin, cut all this.”

“Please,” Jeremy begged. “Cut this, kill me.”

“And I’m not whipped,” Ryan grumbled. “Believe me, just because I’m nice to my wife doesn’t mean I don’t have some measure of control.”

Michael whistled. “Damn, Ry, naughty!”

“That’s not what I– hey, someone bother her about what she’s like in bed.”

“Oh, jeez, let’s not,” Jeremy said. When you glanced over at him, he wasn’t blushing, but he was right on the edge there. Ever since you two had gotten together, the office teasing had been brutal.

“You know, I bet she tops him,” Gavin said conversationally.

Jeremy made a betrayed sound. “Lazy motherfucker that she is?”

“No, I can see it,” Michael said. “Fuckin’… what’s it called? Like, not dominatrix…”

“Domme,” provided Ryan. “D-O-M-M-E. I can absolutely believe that.”

“Stop picturing my girlfriend with whips,” Jeremy snapped, but it was toothless, and they knew it.

“Not whips,” Gavin said. “Just the control. That, y’know, smug satisfaction. I can’t see her listening to a man ever, let alone in bed.”

“I can’t even get her to shut up now, and I control her paychecks,” Geoff complained. “So you might be on to something.”

You laughed to yourself. This garbage fire of a conversation was much funnier from the outside.

“Kdin, cut this,” Jeremy warned again. “Let me tell you something. She gets to be so smug and satisfied in here because she knows that at home, she’s all mine.”

Well, that was enough to turn you on, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes. “Please. Like I’ve never made you beg.”

“Go ahead. Make me beg.” You locked eyes across the room and you saw the fire in Jeremy’s eyes– and the challenge.

“If I stopped giving it up, you’d beg me to fuck you within a week.”

He barked out a laugh, but it wasn’t really joyful. “You’d crack long before I did.”

“I’ll take that action.”

“I’ll throw in a hundred,” Gavin said. “Dunno if you’re just betting for bragging rights, but I’ll bet a hundred bucks that Jeremy cracks first.”

“Nah,” Ryan said. “I’ll get in on this. I get vibes of neediness.”

“Hey,” you complained. “I thought I was a domme?”

“Hey, no point in being a domme without a sub. I’m not saying you couldn’t make him beg. I’m just saying I think you’ll crack first.”

Well. You’d see about that.

***

You set the rules before Gavin and Ryan, so they could be witnesses: you could hug and kiss, but no tongue, no touching below the shoulders, and absolutely nothing that could be construed as sex– no oral, no phone sex, no mutual masturbation. You could both jack off, you could tease each other however you’d like, but nothing more. Gav and Ryan would deal with the money, but the winners would go out to lunch. You and Jeremy decided that whoever won got to top the other for one night, no holds barred.

You thought it would be easy.

For the first week, it was. You’d gone that long before, easily, casually; after a few months, your relationship with Jeremy wasn’t like it was in the beginning, where it was rare to go a day without getting your hands all over each other. Now you were comfortable in your relationship, relaxed, and so you had sex less often but better.

By the second week, it was starting to get harder. You woke up every morning to Jeremy spooning you, his morning wood pressed against your ass, and damn, it would be so easy to grind back against him like you used to do on weekends, let him wake up horny and fuck you half-asleep. But then you would lose, and you did not intend on losing.

It didn’t help that the guys in the office were intent on teasing the absolute life out of you. If you bent down to fix your loose cables or pick up something on the floor, Michael would whistle, “damn, Jeremy, hope you can handle seeing your girlfriend showin’ off like that.” If you wore anything even remotely sexy, Gavin would wonder aloud if you were planning on giving it up that night. Geoff would conjecture on where he’s caught other people in the office building (you did not laugh when your desk made the list, and he wouldn’t tell you who he caught there). Ryan, disgusting animal, would lean in while you were working and whisper to you about how easy it would be to give in, how natural, how no one could blame you when Jeremy was sitting right over there looking like that. Jack was a good guy and stayed out of it, although by the end of every day he would complain that “you could cut the tension with a knife”.

But the weekends were the worst.

See, your place had a pool, and it was an Austin summer. Of course you would be out there, sunning yourself or swimming or soaking your feet while you read a book. Of course Jeremy would be out there doing the same. And what your place also had was a fence– no one to see you take your bathing suit off, no one to see Jeremy’s hands cup your ass the way they had so many other times.

So on a Saturday afternoon it was perfectly natural for you to chill in a lawn chair in just a bikini and sunglasses, a podcast playing from your speakers. It was what you’d done nearly every Saturday afternoon since May, and yet Jeremy looked surprised to see you when he came out to swim.

“Hot out here,” he called, as if you didn’t know.

“Sure is. You goin’ for a swim?”

“Thought I might, if Your Majesty approves.” You smiled but said nothing as he jumped in. With your sunglasses on he couldn’t track your gaze, and so it was firmly on his ass, or else his biceps. Jeremy, glistening wet from sweat or water, was the kind of sight anyone would be unable to look away from.

He swam up to your side of the pool and folded his arms over the edge. “You look good,” he commented, eyes sweeping over your body. “Real good. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you naked, hasn’t it?”

“A few weeks, yeah. Are you starting to miss it?”

“Oh, believe me, I started missing it the day we agreed to that stupid bet.”

You perked up. “Are you caving?”

“Well, no, because now my pride is at stake. I’m going to win. But I also know that if we hadn’t made that bet, I could get you to jump in with me, pull your bikini off, and fuck you until you screamed.” He said it all casually, but his eyes were wide and dark.

“Well, if you wanted my bikini off, you only had to ask.” His breath caught but he waited in silence, and you smiled to yourself. You took your exaggerated time pulling the strings of your bathing suit top, and when it was off, you picked up your bottle of sunscreen and rubbed the lotion on your breasts. You could feel Jeremy watching you, almost panting, and you didn’t really need to keep touching yourself but it felt good to be touched, and knowing it was turning Jeremy on only made it better. You arched your back and sighed audibly, tweaked your nipples once, and then sat back against the chair.

“Oh, you fucking tease,” he murmured. “When I win, I’m gonna tie your hands to my headboard. I’m gonna get you so wet you’re dripping and then I’m gonna sit back and let you beg me to finally fuck you.”

Oh, God, what you wouldn’t give… “We’ll see,” you said simply.

***

You figured you had the upper hand. After all, Jeremy had admitted that he wished he’d never taken the bet and that he was having recurring and consuming thoughts about fucking you. You also knew that he was the one who pursued you, the one who initiated sex first, the one with the stronger sex drive. You just had to keep doing what you were doing, right? He’d cave soon.

You didn’t count on him fighting back.

It started subtle. He would lounge around the house shirtless, especially after a shower. He would come home from the gym in a black wife-beater and sweatpants that rode low on his hips. He would reach around you to grab things, pressing his cock against your ass. He would spend what felt like hours a day texting you about all the things he was gonna do to you once the bet was over.

But you stood strong. Even though it got bad enough that maybe once a day you’d sneak into the bathroom and rub your clit until your legs shook, at work or at home, you went another week, two weeks, three weeks. It had been more than a month since the bet started and everyone thought it would be over soon. It had to be over soon, right?

One night, about six weeks after the bet began, you sat on the edge of the bathtub painting your toenails. It was a treat yourself kind of evening, and you needed the stress relief now more than ever. You and Jeremy had taken to sleeping apart, you in bed and him on the couch; it was too hard otherwise.

He came in without knocking. “Hey, shoo,” you said. “I’m having me time.”

He gave no sign that he’d heard you at all and leaned back against the counter, closing his eyes and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. You swallowed, polish forgotten, and watched as Jeremy slid his boxers down his hips to mid-thigh and took his cock in hand, stroking it carefully to full hardness.

Surprisingly, with all the teasing, you hadn’t really seen Jeremy naked in the past month; he’d been body shy at the best of times and didn’t really like to just hang around naked. You certainly hadn’t caught him masturbating, though he assured you frequently that he did, often, thinking of you. “Jeremy, are you sure…” You didn’t even know how you were going to finish that sentence and he didn’t react to your voice anyway.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, tipping his head back as his thumb found the sensitive spot just under the head, his hips rolling forward. “God…”

You watched breathlessly, like a voyeur.

His hand was strong and sure, a firm grip that made him sigh and pant and moan. His cock was flushed and leaking and looked to be so hard it ached. It would be so easy to lean in and take it into your mouth, to sink your fingertips into Jeremy’s soft hips and taste his pre-come– your lips parted just slightly at the thought. But then you would lose, and you had to win. You were sure you had to… had to…

He was clearly in his rhythm now, hips snapping forward into the tight circle of his fingers, his fist shining with pre-come and his forehead beaded with sweat, and every breath he let out was a sharp gasp. You didn’t know how much of it was an act for your benefit, or if this was really how he looked when he managed on his own, but… heat coiled in your belly as surely as if you were the one on the brink of orgasm, and you wanted him.

When he came, you both cried out together.

He took only a moment to catch his breath, and then he washed his hand, tucked his cock back into his boxers, and left, all without even looking at you.

***

“Two months to the day,” you announced, setting your coffee on your desk and dropping into your chair. “Two goddamn months.”

No one had to ask what you were referring to. Your sex life was the most common topic of office gossip. “And how’s that going for you?” Ryan asked. He’d been sure you would lose quickly, and every passing Monday where you showed up with a scowl he’d seemed a little less confident.

“You know, Ry, not fucking great.”

“No? Getting frustrated?”

“Yes,” you said shortly. You used to make jokes about it. It didn’t seem very funny anymore, and Jeremy seemed to be the same way, staying mostly silent and giving off annoyed vibes off-camera. “I’m about ready to break up with Jeremy just so I can fuck someone else without losing this motherfucking bet. I’d suck the dick of anyone in this building without a second thought right now.”

“You’d fuck someone in the office?” Ryan asked, eyebrows jumping up in surprise.

“I’d fuck you if you asked me.” He flushed and turned away.

“No one’s fucking Ryan,” Geoff announced, hands splayed like he was trying to hold you off.

“You should be happy, Geoff,” Jeremy said. “I thought you wanted fewer people having sex in the office.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know it would make you such a cranky bitch, though.”

“It’s your own fault,” Michael added. “You made the bet.”

Strictly speaking you were the one who made the bet, but it had never been your prerogative to step in between your boyfriend and a good roast session, so you sipped your coffee and booted up your computer.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would take two months! I’ve had blue balls for eight weeks!”

Gavin smiled, slow and sly. “You can give up, you know. You can end this whenever you want. I’m sure she’d thank you.”

Jeremy looked you dead in the eye. “You want it to be over?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve wanted it to be over for, like, seven and a half weeks.”

“Let’s go.” He stalked over and grabbed you by the arm, hauling you out of your chair in such a demanding way that a shiver went through you. “C’mere, you.”

“You know you’ll lose,” you said, just to be sure that you wanting it to end didn’t mean you were giving in. The guys all watched to see what Jeremy would do.

“Put it in the books,” he said, fire in his eyes. “Signed, sealed, notarized. I lost the bet!” He led you out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. Trevor was washing his hands, but Jeremy barked “leave” and he fled with a knowing smile. Jeremy locked the door and finally, finally after two months he grabbed you and kissed you deep and fierce, his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your ass.

“I can’t wait, I really can’t wait,” he said when you had to catch your breath. “Take your pants off. I’ll fuck you better later, but if I have to go ten more minutes without getting my dick wet I swear the god…”

You shucked off your jeans and panties, dropped them where they fell. “You’re so disgusting, Jeremy.”

“Okay. I’ll go back to the office and let you do whatever in here, then.”

“Now that’s not what I said…” His belt clinked when it hit the floor and for some reason that got you as turned on as anything else.

He lifted you up bodily to sit on the counter and pushed your legs open. “Two months,” he groaned, cock in hand, teasing your clit with the head. You shuddered, sighed, pushed your hips forward. “No bet is worth two months without this.” He pushed inside you and you bit your hand to keep from screaming.

His pace was brutally efficient, his thumb working your clit as he sunk his teeth anywhere he could, leaving red marks you knew you couldn’t hide. It wasn’t going to be a long fuck, and you’d seen him go for hours… Neither of you could wait, and it was just a few minutes before you clenched around him and came, and with a few more thrusts he spilled inside you.

He didn’t pull out right away. He leaned forward and rested his forehead to yours, hand cupping the back of your neck. “I can’t wait to get home and do that again,” he breathed, and you had to agree. “You’re gonna look so beautiful under me.”

“Oh, no,” you reminded him with a faint smile. “Remember the conditions of the bet? Gavin gets a hundred bucks and takes me out to lunch, and…”

“You get to top me,” he recalled with a deep sigh. “Well, babe, my ass is yours. What do you plan on doing with it?”

You just smiled wider. “Wait and see.”