#it takes tuesday to tango

[tango-but-everywhere]

That last noise was. Interesting!

Tango, season 9 episode 43

[Transcript:

Tango is in one of the service tunnels for the new map system for decked out. He flies with his elytra uphill, grazing the redstone a few times before properly crashing into the wall and dying

“but, we’ve got about, basically like, thirteen- uh- ger- guh ga-

mya!”

End Transcript]

#would you call that a meow a chirp or a squeak. #i peer reviewed #patton says it’s a meow. #im inclined to agree #ANYWAY. i’m queueing this on TUESDAY. #to go up on FRIDAY #because on friday. i will be gaming. #fellow zelda enjoyers. have fun!!! #take breaks and stuff #drink water #that sorta thing #or dont. i dont control you. #tango tek #tango but everywhere #hermitcraft #tangotek #hc9 #tango clip

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 5 #Danny has a medical condition where he needs cuddles #Wes has been in Wayne manor for fourteen hours and is tearing them apart #Jason is HOT and the Amity people know it #Bruce isn't sure if Wes and Danny are a thing #Nothing makes sense at Wayne manor #You bet all of Danny's wanna be sutiors are getting dressed to the nines for opra

[slugsinsuits]

Love the idea that in universe fanon changes the way the Minecraft people look. Doc wakes up in crocs one day, nods, smiles, and carries on. He's a little less reserved when he wakes up a quadruped, but it's kind of cool.

Jimmy, meanwhile, wakes up with fledgling wings after Last life. They take a while to fledge, and he thinks the colour might change. The whims of the universe are odd, after all. No. He wakes after Double life with the bright yellow feathers that had grown in throughout the sessions, and cries for the soulmate he lost. No longer does he hear whispers across worlds. No, now he can tell before someone dies. Never enough to prevent it, only enough for it to hurt. He sees Tango again and tastes death on his soul fire hair.

Some people change by their dream. Gem, for instance, is equally comfortable with horns and hooves or with butterfly wings.

Grian sobs as his wings, once a relief, brightly coloured and so, so different to the monochrome of the downside up, give way once more to purples. Tears fall from a thousand eyes forced open, watching.

Joe is delighted when, for a brief month, he sees through rainbow eyes. They fade, but turn up on Tuesdays and Rain days.

Cleo sighs the first time her arm falls off, and searches for Grian for sewing advice, remembering a disconcerting era of plastic eyes and floppy bodies.

Some folk barely notice. What's the difference between being something that looks like a normal guy but isn't, and being a normal guy? Aesthetically, not much. Sometimes, they can't tell until they smile and people flinch, until they take their helmet off and choke, until the disguise they painted for themself refuses to come off.

Zedaph, comfortably a sheep, wakes up in bed disoriented after a particularly surprising shrieker stack. The potential consequence of a shock to prey animals hadn't occured to him before... It would make a great Zedvancement.

#hermitcraft #jimmy solidarity #grian #watcher grian #zombiecleo #joehills #docm77 #geminitay #headcanon #the power of fanon #big rambles right here! #zedaph

[tinfairies]

some adult trio fluff head canons ❤️

Adult Trio Fluff Headcanons

Illumi, Hisoka and Chrollo x GN!Reader

Illumi Zoldyck

Not big in PDA but loves when you're alone together. He's very touchy in private and loves to just lay in bed or on the couch with you.

Loves to have his hair brushed and played with, and will play with your hair too.

Leaves little kisses along your knuckles in the morning before he gets up.

Is very bad with expressing his feelings with words, so he buys you a lot of gifts. They're always very heartfelt and are usually things you've talked about liking or wanting.

He bought you a replica of a childhood stuffed animal you had. He gifted it to you on a random Tuesday afternoon. Didn't understand why you cried about it.

Hisoka Morow

He'll tell you that he loves you every hour on the hour. Hisoka is very vocal about his affection and how he feels.

His love language is quality time and physical touch. He's always cuddling up to your side or lingering around you when you do things in the house.

Takes you on extravagant dates and always brings flowers. He loves to make you fluster and blush with his over the top presentations.

Loves to dance with you as well. He'll teach you if you don't know how. The tango and waltz are his favorites

Chrollo Lucilfer

His love language is acts of service and gift giving. He is always buying (or stealing) you things.

Fancy clothes, jewelry, stuffed animals, you name it, you have it. He wants nothing but the best for you.

Loves it when you lay on his chest as he's reading. Will even read aloud to you if you want.

He also has a habit of rubbing your back in bed. Scratching his nails along your spine and massaging the tight muscles.

#hxh x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck #hisoka x reader #hisoka #hisoka morow #hisoka morow x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucifer x reader #headcanons

[george-weasleys-girl]

Second Chance Soulmate Pt.2

Season of Love Event

Start here:

Summary: George debates the wisdom of getting into another relationship

Warnings: a few curse words

~•~

"When are you planning to ask her out?" Fred asked, rummaging through a mountain of paperwork.

"What??" George snapped up from his own pile. "Who??"

"Y/N," his twin rolled his eyes. "The bookshop girl."

"What makes you think I want to ask her out?"

"Oh, I dunno," Fred answered with an absent-minded air. "Could be because you're over there every chance you get... "

"Mira loves the place," George interrupted. "She'd probably live there if I let her."

"Perfect! Mira already likes her. So, that's one hurdle you don't have to worry about."

"I. Said." George reiterated, enunciating each syllable. "THE. PLACE. Not the owner."

"Don't give me that crap," Fred huffed. You know as well as I do, Mira talks about her all the time. I'm surprised she hasn't talked your remaining ear off." Fred argued.

George leveled his eyes at his twin. "Just get to the point."

"Oh, I am, Georgie boy," Fred grinned. "You're avoiding reality. That's the point."

"Oh?" His brother leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And what reality would that be?"

"That Mira likes Y/N. A lot. And so do you."

George's shoulder sagged, and he heaved a heavy sigh. "So what if I do? I've already fucked up one relationship. I'm not about to give a repeat performance."

Fred scoffed. "As I recall, you weren't the only one in that marriage. It takes two to tango, you know."

"Doesn't mean I wasn't a bad dancer," George mumbled and bowed his head back over his paperwork, completely ignoring his twins exaggerated sighs and eyerolls.

~•~

One month after the divorce

"I don't know what to do," Carlee sighed. "I've tried everything, but nothing works."

George looked down at his daughter, who lay curled up on his lap. "She eats fine when she's here," he glanced up at his ex-wife, then back down to Mira. "Why won't you eat for mummy?"

Mira shook her head and buried her face in his chest.

"Can she stay with you?" Carlee blurted out. "Just for a while... until she's eating properly again."

George didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Of course. She can stay as long as she likes."

Mira looked up and beamed at her dad.

~•~

"As long as she likes" turned out to be two years, and counting with Mira spending every other weekend with her mom, though it was supposed to be the other way around. That's what they'd agreed upon in the divorce. George thought it'd be best. A child should be with their mother. That's what everyone says anyway.

But Mira had other ideas.

He knew it hurt Carlee that Mira chose him over her. And, honestly, he was never really sure why. Whenever he asked her about it, Mira would only say, "You're my favorite. But don't tell mummy." It was a phrase that put him on cloud nine every time he thought about it. And he wasn't going to question it, lest his daughter think too hard on the matter and change her mind.

~•~

Present day

George sighed and poured himself a hefty shot of whiskey, wishing his daughter was here right now. Of all the days for Fred to zero in on his brother's sad single status, he had to pick today. Though, knowing his twin, the timing was probably strategically planned. George had just dropped Mira off at her mother's for the weekend, a long weekend, no less. Carlee was taking her to visit family, and they wouldn't return until Tuesday.

"Damn it, Fred," he muttered. "You knew exactly what you were doing today, didn't you?"

~•~

After downing the first shot, George poured himself another and headed upstairs. Kneeling next to his bed, he pulled out the box that held a few mementos from his marriage, including a photo album. He hadn't thought about it in months. But, tonight, with his twin's words haunting his mind, the past came rushing back. He took a heavy swig of whiskey and cracked it open.

Except for a few photos with only her and Mira, Carlee had left behind all their pictures. "I have what I want," she'd told him. "I don't care what you do with the rest."

For the first few months, he couldn't bear to look at them. But as time went on, it became easier, and eventually, George began the long process of sorting through them, saving his favorites in this photo album. The rest he burned in a fiery Unbonding ritual.

George's fingers traced over their smiling faces. It was all there, his and Carlee's time together. From beginning to end.

Their very first picture as a couple, taken in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Standing in front of the joke shop on the day of the grand opening.

Sitting with Fred as he recovered in the hospital after the war.

Dancing at their wedding.

Making funny faces on their honeymoon.

Both of them smiling, misty-eyed as they held Mira for the first time.

And so many other moments in between.

George sighed and took another swig. Once upon a time, they were happy and so very much in love. Then, bit by bit, over the years, it all crumbled into dust.

He turned the final page and smiled wistfully at the last picture. It was taken on their last vacation as a family. He and Carlee stood on the beach, smiling, standing side by side, their arms around each other's waist as Carlee held a giggly and squirmy Mira. They looked like the perfect little family.

A little over a year later, his world fell apart.

~•~

"You should burn every photo that doesn't have Mira in it," Fred had argued the night before the burning ritual. "Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll never truly let Carlee go."

George, of course, ignored his twin's suggestion, reasoning that he should at least keep some for Mira. Carlee was still her mother, after all. He shook his head and chuckled at the memory, then closed the album and slipped it back in its box under the bed. Fred was annoyingly right about a lot of things. But that was not one of them.

He did let go of Carlee. And though it had been a long, painful process, George's heart no longer ached for her. He no longer dreamed of a reunion. Even now, looking at those pictures, he didn't miss his ex-wife, so much as he missed having a partner.

Y/N suddenly flooded his thoughts, and he couldn't hold back the smile that spread across his face. Everything about that woman sent him flying over the moon. The way she always lit up whenever he and Mira came into the store. The way her hand would brush his when she showed them the newest books. The way she would always make a point to stop and chat with him whenever they saw each other on the street.

And her laughter.

He knew all her laughs. From her delighted giggles when reading to Mira, to her unrestrained belly-laughs when he told her one of his stupid jokes, to the occasional snort that sent an adorable bright pink blush blossoming across her cheeks.

Dear Merlin, he could so easily fall head-over-heels in love with her.

If he wasn't already...

George's heart clenched painfully, and his knees wobbled beneath him. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. How could his stupid heart go off and fall in love without him noticing? He wasn't ready. Not yet. What if he and Y/N got together and it didn't work out? No one needed to tell him that love doesn't always last forever. He'd experienced it firsthand.

Even so, he was tired of being alone and lonely. Mira helped. Of course she did. But she could never fill the gaping hole in his heart that yearned for the love of a partner. Despite what he told himself, George so desperately to be happy and in love again. And he had no doubt that he and Y/N would be happy together.

But for how long?

That was the question.

Two years? Five years? Ten? Twenty? His parents' neighbors, once regarded as "perfect for each other," recently divorced after 21 years and three kids.

George collapsed back onto the bed, suddenly bone-weary and soul-sick. The future terrified him. Too many possibilities. Too many what-ifs. It damn near destroyed him when he and Carlee split. Another heartbreak like that might end him once and for all.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1Lellykins @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

@Smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict

@moonatician @lunacurlclaw @sierraluvzz @min-aaa @now-that-we-dontalk @lillisummers @lovesanimals0000

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #hp fandom #hp universe

[eeriefeelingsat3amuwu]

In my Kagehina feels, so y’all are getting my headcanons

-they got together in their first year after Kageyama’s second crowning

-this happened in the most Kagehina way possible, where they were walking home together and Kageyama just says ‘I think I want to date you, dumbass’

-Hinata says ‘think I wanna date you too, asshole’ and that’s it, they’re dating now

-sure, the conversation following the confession is a bit more emotionaly charged and Kageyama thanks Hinata for the support, but there’s no more mention to the nature of their relationship

-they continue on in their relationship up to their third year

-no one notices

-this is because nothing changed. Sure, they are physicaly close, but they basicaly fell asleep on each others’ shoulders before this, it’s not like them holding hands is weird

-they don’t really enjoy kissing, because it’s just weird to do so

-until they find out about the horizontal tango in their third year

-this kinda expands their horizons, but they still dislike kissing in public without any followup, because they’re very competetive in everything, including bedroom activities

-Yamaguchi, Yachi and Tsukishima kinda think something is going on, but they’re never sure and it’s driving them insane

-anyone can ask ‘Hinata, is Kageyama your partner?’ And the answer will be ‘yes’ but the answer has been yes for three years now goddamit and surely the two of them couldn’t have been together for THAT long, right????

-their touches border platonic and romantic, but they never really cared about the distinctions, so who even KNOWS

-they spend a shitton of time together, but that’s NORMAL, stil

-chaos in the gc. Their senpais get in on this and it’s a whole bet going on

-Brazil time. Why should they ‘take a break’? Nah, they’re fine, long distance is no problem for either of them as long as they get to talk to each other weekly

-Oh sure, they miss the physical aspects of their relationship, but the way they feel about each other hasn’t changed at all and they both know Hinata is doing this for the both of them

-that being said, when Hinata gets back from Brazil, Kageyama is the one to go pick him up and then doesn’t show up at practice for two days straight because they keep each other ‘occupied’

-they both also cry when they meet at the airport. The only lucky thing is that this was at two in the morning on a Tuesday and Hinata was nowhere near as popular as after his MSBY debut, otherwise Kageyama would’ve probably been followed by at least three journalists and their ‘Welcome home’ kiss would’ve ended up plastered on every single sports magazíne cover the next morning

-as soon as they settle into their new routine, the ‘when will they get together/are they together yet’ game starts on a bigger scale, now including their V-League teammates

-Kageyama comes to practice bruised up? The bruises look natural and could be from a number of other activities he regularly does

-Hinata has scratches on his arms? It’s a well known fact that he’s very fond of cats and has been seen petting a stray one just the day before

-both of them drop out of practice on the same day and are seen together? Turns out Hinata’s sister came to visit and she just LOVES Tobio, really, how could you deny the Hinata smile™️ anything?

-they call each other by their first names? Oh, they’ve known each other for AGES

-they share an apartment sometimes? Tokyo is EXPENSIVE and Tobio lives so close to the Adlers gym, why waste an opportunity to play volleyball together?

-funny thing is that they’re not even the ones comming up with the excuses, it’s just the two sides of the bet arguing over the possibility of their win

-and along comes Japan national team

-they win their first gold together

-and kiss on the olympic court

-afterwards, both of them look so giddy and shocked that EVERYONE assumes they must’ve just gotten together. And really, that has always been the more popular assumption, because the two of them can be DENSE

-read a really funny fic where Kageyama was doing a press conference and he was asked who his favourite spiker he ever played with was and instead of saying someone from his current team, he just said Hinata (they do this constantly)

-so it’s not that big of a surprise. Money is payed out to the assumed winners, there’s a general sense of great ease and everyone congratulates the two of them

-they seem confused about the congratulations, but then again, it has been a very emotional day for the both of them

-well, there’s an afterparty for the national team

-Kageyama and Hinata sit next to each other on one of the couches and the team is huddled around them and everyone is just having a good time

-and then Hinata turns to Kageyama and says ‘Hey, let’s just get married after the games end’

-the party grows quiet

-Kageyama’s response? ‘Oh, sure, works with me’

-you could hear a pin drop

-and the two of them just try to continue on with the conversation that the question interupted

-then Bokuto, bless his heart, and Ushijima, no social awareness extraordinare, congratulate them on their engagement, to which Kagehina smile and thank them and then try to pull them into the conversation

-Atsumu is the one to speak up next

-‘um. Shouyo-kun, I don’t want to be mean or anything. But uh. Don’t you think it would be better to wait with the engagement a bit? I mean, I know you two have known each other for years and all, but then again, you just got together. Wouldn’t it be better to think this through a bit more?’

-…

-Hinata and Kageyama look at each other

-wide eyes, they mouth Atsumu’s sentence back to each other

-then Hinata bursts out into laughter and burries his face in Kageyama’s shirt

-Kageyama snorts and gets redder than the Japan jersey

-everyone else is confused as fuck, that is until Hinata manages to get his breath back

-‘We’ve- uh, hah, we have been together since the first year of highschool, ‘Tsumu- Tobio- To- Tobio. Fuck- we never fucking told anyone’s have we?’ more laughter

-this time it’s Kageyama who loses it and hides his face in Hinata’s shoulder

-‘No, no we did not-‘

-que everyone else losing their shit

-that night causes more chaos in the V-League comunity than anything else in the past decade in the least

-next morning, after a LOT of phonecalls, a post appears on all of Ninja Shouyo’s social media accounts, with only a ‘We’re here’ and a photo of Kagehina, with their olympic jerseys on and showing off their gold medals

-and under all of these, the first comment is always from the underused, almost empty accounts of one Kageyama Tobio, stating ‘can’t wait to marry you’

#eerie’s feelings #fanfiction #kagehina #haikyuu time skip #haikyuu #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #msby black jackal #haikyuu msby #schweiden adlers #haikyuu adlers #secret relationship #sorta #relationship reveal #engagement #oblivious #haikyuu headcanons #will write this one day

[eluminium]

SKIZZ WEEK DAY 7. FINAL DAY. Well, okay I have to catch up on day 3 and day 6 BUT. STILL. DAY 7!!! this one got LONG again. I based this fic on that one scene from Skizz's episode 1 where Beef decides they're gonna spoon each other. Yeah.

As always, HUGE thanks to @skizzlemanweek for organizing this in the first place! It has been really fun to write for and the fact that it got me to write shit after like, 2 years of inactivity is insane. Huge props to them!!!

ANYWAYS! ONTO THE FINAL DAY!

Prompt 7: Free day!

-

Okay. Take some deep breaths, Skizz. It's not that big of a deal. You are fine! It's just being on THE Hermitcraft server with all the hermits as a hermit. That's just your average Tuesday for the Skizz- wait.

Void, he is on HERMITCRAFT. He's a HERMIT. FOR REAL. Is this real?! Or has he been dreaming or hallucinating?! His eyes dart around, and yep, those are hermits. Quickly, he pinches his arm. He lets go just as quickly with a squeak to boot when it's confirmed that this is real. He is a Hermit.

Now, he isn't the type of person to be nervous or scared. He thinks of himself as a pretty chill guy! He's Skizzleman. What dignity does he have to lose? However, maybe the fact he's not the type of guy to freak out means that because he's freaking out right now he has NO clue how to cope. He's so cool that he forgot how to deal! Agh, why now!?

"I'm gonna make a bed for our team, so we're gonna sleep in a communal bed, cuz there's only one right now." Someone- Oh it's Clebert!- comments while a newly crafted white bed appears next to the crafting table and furnace combo. It shakes Skizz out of his thoughts and back to the present, thank void. It's also a sweet reminder that just because he's on Hermitcraft doesn't mean he's a total stranger! In his mining team (what were they called again? Musterd Milktots? What is a milktot-) he's got Clebert and Tango Top! He knows them well! Then there's Doc, and he's hung out with Doc before! Like at the OlympZITS! And last, there's Beef! Who he….uh…Okay, he's never talked to Beef before. But how hard could it be? He'll charm his way into Beef's heart soon enough.

Speaking of the man, here he comes over the hills now! "I have a bed already. I have a bed!" he announces as he jogs over to use the crafting table. The sky behind him has faded to a soft yellowish orange as the sun sets on Skizz's first official day on Hermitcraft. Good thing they managed to make these beds in time!

Cleo seems to agree as she declares: "Oh okay! Now we can split up our sharing of the beds! That's cool!" While they speak, Tango appears behind them. He doesn't even acknowledge what just happened. The blaze man starts placing dirt around their little area to prepare for the night. Skizz giggles to himself. He's always task-focused, that guy.

As night starts falling, it dawns on Skizz that they only have two beds. And there are currently four of them. Doc disappeared somewhere, but he was told Doc tends to do that. Still, even with one less Milktot, they need to share beds in pairs or have one or two of them sleep on the ground. Well, he can do both! Nothing against a little snuggling with the homies!

"So, everyone under the covers?" He asks, looking between his fellow teammates. They also seem to have realized the situation and come to the same conclusion as him.

Their faces tell Skizz of the various levels of internal conflict occurring in this dirt hut. Tango doesn't seem very excited at all with the low burning flame on his head and a frown decorating his face. Cleo also wears a frown on her lips but a glint of understanding in her eyes. Once again, Skizz doesn't know Beef well enough to read him accurately, but he seems the most accepting out of the three. That's when it dawns on him that maybe not everyone is as comfortable with cuddling the homies. And now he feels like a dumbass for instantly jumping to that option. And he's the new guy, too! Void, this is going great so far!

Okay, how can he fix this? Maybe he can volunteer to sleep on the ground. Or he could invite Tango to a bed (god he's gonna get a headache from all these jokes he shouldn't make-!) since Tango knows him best and Skizz already has experience dealing with Tango's fire. Besides, they both have old man backs. If they sleep on the ground, they'll be incapacitated for days. And there's no way Tango should be allowed to do that, not on his watch!

But as he's turning towards Tango to make the offer, Beef unexpectedly grabs his gaze instead. Huh-?

"Skizz, you're mine~. Get in here, big boy," He growls in an overly sultry tone. Completely outta nowhere! So outta nowhere Skizz can't help but giggle at it.

Now, he recognizes what a bit is and realizes that it's probably an attempt by Beef to lighten the mood. So obviously, he's gotta keep it going! That's the one rule of improv, baby!

"Big spoon or little spoon?" He responds in a comedically deadpan tone while moving towards one of the beds. Cleo and Tango laugh at his theatrics, and the mood does indeed lighten. Mission success! He and Beef also chuckle a bit before Skizz moves between the beds and puts on a more serious face.

"Okay, for real though. How are we doing this? Are there some kind of Hermit rules around snuggling with your fellow Hermits I don't know about?" He asks the other three.

"No Skizz, I don't think we have rules about that. Although I don't know how…safe and comfortable it is to cuddlebear ol' Tango over here. With all the fire stuff and possible burnificating in your sleep," Tango responds honestly. Skizz rolls his eyes.

"Come on, Top. You're not that bad, dude! We've shared many a bed during Third Life, and Last Life, and Limited Life, and Secret Life-"

"Don't act like you weren't complaining in the morning! You were like: 'Ooo Tango I'm never cuddling with you again! This is awful, bleugh!'"

"That's because I got SWEATY from your crazy body heat! Not because I was on FIRE like you seem to be thinking!!!"

"Okay guys we get it, you're very affectionate with each other and it's cute, now lets get back to the point!" Cleo calls out to stop this madness before it escelates into a slap fight. Skizz and Tango both shut up in compliance.

"I have an idea!" Beef chimes in. All of them turn their eyes to him. They stay silent but nod at him to continue.

"Cleo, you can't really feel temperature, correct?" Beef asks, turning towards said Cleo.

"Yeah, being a zombie and all," Cleo answers with a shrug.

"So if you and Tango take one bed, we'll minimize the amount of…sweating happening. And, for you Cleo, it'll be easier to keep your body warm enough not to freeze up during the night!" Beef finishes off.

Tango and Cleo both contemplate this plan. It makes a lot of logical sense to split it up that way.

Cleo turns to Skizz. "Can you promise that he doesn't light up like a flamethrower? Don't get me wrong! I do like fire, just not ON me," She asks him. Tango makes some vaguely offended noises in the background despite the fact he was the one who brought it up.

"I promise you, Clebert! Top sleeps like a dead man. There's no way he'll light up at all. And if he does, dude, just kick him off the bed. It'll be funny," He answers with a smile and a wink. Then he laughs at the increased amount of offended Tango noises. They're just the best, okay!

"Alright I guess it's you and me, Tango. We'll sleep back to back, yeah?" Cleo gestures at Tango while she starts preparing the bed closest to them. Tango sounds like he agrees, but Skizz has already tuned them out to focus on his deal with Beef.

"So, I guess I was yours, huh?" He jokes as Beef joins him by the other bed.

"I guess so!" Beef cheers back.

For a second, they just stand there. Waiting for the other to make a move. …Maybe Skizz should give Beef the bed anyway. Skizz's the new guy, after all. He can't be making moves like this.

"Hey man, if this is really not your style, I'm fine with sleeping on the ground," He offers, meeting Beef's eyes. Said eyes light up in amusement, however.

"I think everyone in this hut knows that if anyone slept on the grass they'd wake up with a ton of back pain. We're all too old for that! Unless you'd feel uncomfortable, but I'll take a guess that you're not considering…you know." Beef reassures while patting Skizz on the back. He's right on that. It doesn't really bother Skizz…Then Beef's face morphs into one of contemplation.

"I was thinking more about how we're gonna fit in this bed," He continues, gesturing to said bed.

Oh, oh yeah. Second observation of the night. The bed is kinda small for them. They're both big, burly, broad men, for crying out loud. Unless they're going to connect like puzzle pieces, there is no way both of them are fitting in this bed.

Skizz smacks his lips. "Well, big guy. Either we snuggle up real close, or one of us ends up on the ground. You in?" He says bluntly, almost like a challenge.

Beef thinks about it before exclaiming: "I'm in," while lifting up the blanket. He then crawls in towards the opposite edge of the bed and lays sideways. Skizz has never been one to think too hard before doing something, so he crawls in next, and the great shuffling begins.

It's, well, not the easiest. Each time one of them moves an inch, something gets kicked, punched, or pushed. It's a miracle that they manage to avoid kneeing each other in the jewels. But eventually, they managed to settle into a comfortable position. What a blessing!

That blessing ends up being them curling their legs around each other like two strings of DNA, pressing together like a sandwich, and Beef's head resting on top of Skizz's, while Skizz almost has his face in Beef's mantits. It's not something Skizz thought would be included in his first day on Hermitcraft, but he isn't unhappy about it. Beef seems content, breathing a sigh of relief as they finally fit together. Afterward, he lets out some soft laughter that Skizz feels more than he hears.

"Welcome to Hermitcraft, Skizzleman. This has been your initiation ritual into this madness," He jokes, his log-like arms resting around Skizz's back.

"I think I'm gonna like this gig," He responds with a laugh before wiggling a little bit. He feels Beef smile into his hair. On the other side, the shuffling sound from Tango and Cleo ceases as well. After a long negotiation, everyone is finally comfortable.

"Goodnight, everyone," Skizz says.

"Goodnight." The others respond.

As silence falls on the Musterd Milktots dirt hut, Skizz feels the most relaxed in months. Beef is already drifting off based on his breathing, and soft snores are heard from the other side. As Skizz starts succumbing to sleep, he thinks:

"Yeah. I'm gonna love it here."

#skizzleman #skizz week 7 #skizz week #vintagebeef #zombiecleo #tangotek #my writing #hermitfic #WOO HOO LAST DAY #GOOD JOB TO EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED #YOU DID GREAT!!! #dose of skizz #dose of beef

[bootleg-parable]

Guilty Tango ; A Parable Progression

It was another Tuesday.

Somehow, this book had yet to grow old, and here User sat, reading it for the seventh time since his arrival to the office. Something about the writing always reeled him in. Something about the atmosphere, the characters, the irony. It was a good book to get lost in. With ease, it always took his mind off of everything else when he needed it, and it kept him from constantly bothering–

“User?”

. . .Teller.

Two hands settled gently upon User’s shoulders and spun him 180 to be facing away from the desk at which he was sitting. User closed the book and rested it in his lap as he looked up to meet an expecting smile. He stared into the glowing opacity of Teller’s glasses as blankly as he could manage. He often wondered what the older man’s eyes looked like beneath the shining glass shields, but alas, there was no way around them, and User wasn’t one to pry.

“Did you need something?” He asked quietly, and briefly he turned his chair’s swivel to put the book on the desk. He had the feeling he’d be leaving it soon.

Teller took hold of User’s arms. “I am officially–” He paused to hoist the other to his feet. User did not protest. “Off the clock.”

“And only one hour later than yesterday. You must be so proud."

“Ahem. I. . .I apologise. Sometimes things get a little too busy around here.”

And yet User has never seen another person in this office building aside from Teller and-

...

He didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m here, now.” Teller’s glove brushing up against the unwrapped side of User’s face made him bristle. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

User squinted. “I was kidding, Teller.” He swatted the eldest’s hand away. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“The way that you looked at me said otherwise.”

User’s facial expressions didn’t typically change. He didn’t think it had then, either. But perhaps Teller saw something that User didn't feel or care enough to realise. Even so, nothing came to mind, and he knew that Teller was insistent, almost to a charmingly annoying degree.

He only shrugged. Teller frowned with nothing more to say, and User, admittedly, was growing cold under that empty stare of his. Another reason why he wished that Teller would take those glasses off at least once. It was uncanny to look at his face and see nothing but two strips of beaming white glass where eyes should be. Glasses didn’t come like that. . .But he supposed he wouldn’t really know. He couldn’t remember anything before the office, and any memory that sprung to life in his mind always died and vanished soon after. Nothing was left for him. Not while he was here.

Is this even the real world? Surely it couldn't be. Not if Teller was capable of "respawning" in every instance after death. But maybe all of these people weren't actually Teller. Perhaps it was a title. Perhaps User never met the man he thinks he has.

In his spiral of thought, User didn’t even notice that Teller had gotten alarmingly close to him, with a grasp on his arms again, and was humming a tune to the both of them as he swayed in place. User stumbled, startled, and once his mind kicked back into functionality, it only got worse. Teller was trying to dance with him. User didn’t fancy the idea all too much.

“No–” He stuttered, leaning back to put distance between them. His voice got closer and closer to a whisper the more that he spoke. “Teller, I can’t– I don’t know how to dance.”

Teller only grinned. “How painfully stereotypical of you.”

User had seen this before. Every reset followed the same set of events, no matter how much time it took to reach certain ones. They couldn’t do this. User was trying to stop the loop, not entertain it. Oh, but how was he going to explain this to Teller without just hurting his feelings? Or without spilling the truth of this reality to him? Was there any way around this without looking like the bad guy? Maybe that’s something he’d just have to live with.

“Shit.”

He was so bad at it, too. You’d think with how many times he’d repeated this exact moment that he might’ve been better at dancing. But he kept tripping up. He stepped on Teller more than once now, but as always, the other’s patience was endless. Maybe User could just step away. Maybe Teller wouldn’t be bothered.

But what if he would?

“Sorry–”

He stepped on his friend again. Damn it, why couldn't he get this down?

“You are a terrible dancer, dear boy.” Teller insulted, but he laughed, and in that, User knew he was only teasing.

He tried to hide his embarrassed smile in Teller’s coat. He didn’t need to be seen grinning like that. He didn’t want to get close to this version of this man. It would make his death a lot easier to take if User couldn’t prevent it- to know that they were never as close as his previous selves were.

Hm.

Teller was so warm. It never occurred to User that he’s never actually hugged Teller until it was too late. Every embrace was never returned. Instead he always spent his final moments in a loop hanging on to something dead. Someone dead. This might not have been a hug, per say, but it was a welcome change of pace. To be this close to Teller while he was still alive.

While he was. . .

“Let go.” He pulled himself free. Teller might have blinked with surprise, but User couldn’t tell. He tried to think of something to cover up his abruptness. “I told you, I can’t dance.”

“I can tell,” Teller shot back. User couldn’t read it as playful or not anymore. That made him ache. “I stopped counting your fumbles after the tenth one, snrk–”

Teller didn’t usually take things personally.

That was a relief, and User sighed to acknowledge that. Teller rubbed the other’s shoulder.

“Oh, I’m only poking fun at you, User.” He reassured, having taken the sigh as despondency. “You were doing fine.”

User gave him a look. There were far more troubling things to get twisted up about. Teller’s silly little insult was far from being one of them. And speaking of which, he had plans to write out. He couldn’t stand around humouring this game anymore. Lucky for him, Teller picked up on User’s wanting to be left alone.

“If you need me, simply shout for me,” He announced his departure as he started off down the hall. “I will be in the library, reorganising.”

User nodded once and watched him disappear around a corner. He didn’t like being alone very much, even less so knowing that Teller was alone. Anything could happen. He didn’t know if that damned 8-Ball would wait for everything to play out as it typically did. Maybe it had fun watching User scramble around for solutions with the time provided. Maybe it would catch him off guard and take Teller away from him while he wasn’t looking. There wouldn't be any light steps taken about this subject. Even if the end never truly was the end, User didn't want it to happen.

There were so many ways that this could all go wrong.

There were so many loops that all came to the same conclusion, no matter how hard he tried.

There were so many memories that only he retained and couldn't share.

User didn’t like being alone very much. . .

. . . There was a sound from the library. A loud, devastating sound. Something in User’s stomach dropped, and before he could even process the situation or his feelings, he was already mindlessly running down the hall. His heart was racing.

He was right.

The worst had come ages before the suspected deadline.

Teller.

#the stanley parable #tspud #narratorverse #bootleguser #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #bootlegstoryteller #writing

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays

Happy Friday everyone, back after a long and busy work day with some more fics that I've read and loved recently.

If you missed last week’s you can find my previous rec lists here for more!

16 February 2024

dreams of the lonely by @hellverse is a beautiful, bittersweet open ended one shot that's aching with feeling. In an ambiguously post canon setting, Cas visits Dean in his dream. He attempts to comfort him. So much packed into these words.

Too Many Lovers (Not Enough Love) by @tlakhtwritesdestiel is a super fun take on a voyeurism 'Cas can watch' turned threesome one shot smut fic! I love the sense of intensely trusting friendship as well as of course yet-to-be-acknowledged feelings that runs through this. When a cocktail waitress propositions Dean and wants Cas to watch, it's the beginning of what will become a habit involving several other people - and maybe something more? *fans self*

El Tango de Amor by @literaryoblivion is a comfort reread of an old fave. Every Tuesday and Thursday, Dean sneaks out for a dance class. A dance class taught by a one Castiel Novak. Having already caught feelings, he's caught by surprise when Cas asks him to be his tango partner for a competition. Sweet, heart-warming and romantic.

The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun by Wow_thisiswheremylifeis (@ipromiseimlying-blog1 ) this one's a long fic that I'd been reading for the last few weeks! Post-confession, Cas made it back from the Empty, but in his fear of Dean's rejection, he didn't tell the brothers...which Jody didn't know. In escaping from the Empty, Cas broke it even more with the unstable fluctuations of his fledgling soul. Now the inhabitants of the failing plane of existence are escaping, and tfw must stop them. All whilst dealing with the emotional fallout. I really loved the unique take on angel ritual and bonding here, as well as some truly creepy case sidequests.

#happilyfeatherafter ficrec friday #destiel fic #short one this week because I've not had much reading time

[animation-is-my-jam]

hi!!! I recently got into wordgirl in the year of our lord 2023 and I'm glad to find an active wg account pls never stop posting 🙏 anyway, i have a question, are there any good tobecky fics you'd recommend? i've read some already but I'm always open to new suggestions! tobecky is one of my fav ships rn

Hey thanks for the ask! And that's the true spirit of being a Wordgirl fan. Also don't worry on the posting thing, I sometimes take long breaks or forget to actually use Tumblr but I always come back and I'm still somehow fixated on this show lol.

As for Tobecky fic recommendations...ough that's a tough one. I actually started a Google doc guide (like what their called, the author, how to read them, ECT.) about my favorite tobecky fics (giving my personal reviews and overview, no spoilers). But that's unfortunately been put on hold because I got self-conscious about it, and that I can't focus on two projects at the same time (my other one actually being a tobecky fic I'm currently writing, which hasn't been officially published yet, not a self-promote I think). But I do have all the overall names of the fics from the Doc so I'll paste them here, in no particular order.

As of September 2023, Jam's Tobecky fic list recommendations:

- Something Hidden (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (on FF.net)

- The Saving Tobey Series (aka: Saving Tobey, Time to go Home, and 26 letters) (all multi-chapter) (status: Semi-complete) (All On FF.net or AO3)

- Old Wounds Heal (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3 or FF.net)

- The Jealousy verse (series) (aka: Jealousy Jealousy, Who am I?, The scientific method, the sordid confessions of a teenage boy (and other extraterrestrial anomalies) (multi-chapter/one-shots) (status: Semi-complete) (All On AO3)

- Meet me on memory lane (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- A Big mistake (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- (Mamma Mia) Here we go again! (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Honey, Honey how he thrills me (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Slipping through my fingers (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Lay all your love on me (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Turning Saints into the Sea (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- A Mistletoe Prince 2: 2 mistletoe 2 Prince (One shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Space age love song (multi-chapter) (status: ongoing) (On AO3)

- First comes Friendship (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Tiny plastic polygons (multi-chapter) (status: ongoing/unknown) (On AO3)

- [Insert dumb robot pun] maybe It'll lighten the mood (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Intermissions (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- word up, it's wordgirl (and she wouldn't want me using lowercase letters) collection series (one-shots/multi-chapter) (status: Semi-complete) (All on AO3)

- School isn't big enough for two losers to sit alone (multi-chapter) (status: :( Orphaned/abandoned) (On AO3)

- Adventures of Wordwoman Project B (multi-chapter) (status: ongoing) (On AO3 or FF.net)

- Two lovers intertwined (multi-chapter) (status: ongoing) (On AO3)

- She's giving me the evil eye (a poisonous smile) (One-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- El Tango De Becky (the tragedy of tobeybot) (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Sleight of hand (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Tuesdays with Tobey (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Don't cry Snowman, it's Christmas, baby (One-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Just friends (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Spell it out (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- This could be the start of something new (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Dumbfounded (One-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Tobecky Week 2022 (multi-chapter) (status: Complete) (On AO3)

- Robots and knights the kiss scene (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- McCallister cat: Tobey gets a cat (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- I Realize Now (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Falling for you (literally) (One-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- meteor shower, quick take cover (but the hues in our hair compliment one another) (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Love and the perils of outer space - A counterproductive guide (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Dumbfounded (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Two sides of the same heart (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Merry Christmas (unless aliens don’t celebrate, wouldn’t want to be offensive) (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- The Same Sparkling Smile (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- Feverish (one-shot) (status: complete) (On AO3)

- New and Subtle shades (one-shot) (status: complete) (On FF.net)

- Through the eyes of his mother (one-shot) (status: complete) (On Tumblr)

- Tis the season (one-shot) (status: complete) (On FF.net)

- Your name was written in the stars (multi-chapter) (status: complete) (On FF.net)

[Phew that's what I got so far, obviously there's probably some I wanted to add and mind you this isn't best to worst or like some elitists list of the best tobecky fics (I mean the first Saving Tobey fic is on here and have my gripes with it lol/lhj), it's just the ones I've read and remembered. But I do think they're great and wahoo some of my friends wrote these(⁠^⁠^⁠) ]

#wordgirl #tobecky #tobey mccallister #becky botsford #wordgirl fandom #Wordgirl fanfiction

[wr1t3w1tm3]

So... I fucked up.

TLDR: I made a post that sounded creepy, people were concerned, I deleted post and clarified that I was not, in fact, writing RPFics of minors. Thank you commentors.

Timeline: On Sunday I got the idea to write a Hermitcraft AU where the Hermits with kids did a "take your kid to work day" thing and let them play on Hermitcraft. There was gonna be an egg hunt, and chaos was gonna ensue. It would take place in a Minecraft is IRL AU as well where the server served as a sort of military/research base or something. Like the Antarctic research base IRL.

However, as evident by the first screen shot, I very poorly worded it and several people commented on the original posts telling me not to write about the Hermits children.

IDK what else to say except that I never intended to do that. I worded that very poorly. Like, very, very poorly. I deleted the posts after taking these screenshots on mobile because they do come off as weird at best and creepy at worst. I reached out to the people who commented telling me not to write about the Hermits kids and clarified the situation with them prior to deletion.

The only reason I didn't get around to deleting the posts earlier was because by the time I realized how creepy it was on Monday I was traveling back to my Uni after break, and I had no time. Tuesday, I had two labs and had to begin studying for two exams on Friday, and I had work as well. Today is the first day I've had time to sit down and actually do stuff that isn't school/work related.

So, what was I attempting to do? I was trying to figure out which Hermits had kids and about how old said kids were (like if they were grade/middle/high school/adult was what I was going for), so I could come up with characters (either from my own OC backlog or create a new character) who would be their kids in the AU and then write the AU from there.

Prior to asking this question I did already know that a couple of the Hermits (Tango, Bdubs, and Skizz) had kids. I also knew that Skizz specifically had a college age daughter because of his Hermitcraft video that came out around the time I made the post. I, however, am one person and there was no way I was gonna be able to go through and eliminate every Hermit on my own, so I decided to ask Tumblr.

Another reason I deleted the original post was because someone gave me some very specific ages for some of the Hermit kids and I honestly do not know how they got that information but after realizing how weird my post came off and seeing that, I didn't feel 100 percent comfortable keeping it up. Obviously, that information is somewhere on the internet, so it's more likely whichever Hermit revealed that info was okay with it going public, but since I don't have time to verify, I don't wanna risk it being leaked.

I want it to be known now that I do not and will NEVER EVER write RPF. As a genre I think it's interesting, but only when done in a historical context. Or a parody context, because fuck politics. I have never and will never write RPF outside of maybe including real presidents, politicians, world leaders, and celebrities in realistic fiction, if you'd consider that RPF. If I continue work on the Hermitcraft IRL AU thing, which currently is not likely due to time constraints coming up, I will let everyone know. Thank you to everyone who did help me with research and who brough my original posts oddness to the forefront. Love ya'll.

#mcytblr #mcyt tag #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hc s10 #skizzleman #tangotek #bdoubleo100

[aquaquadrant]

Act two, oh boy. Ughhguhegjeb ok good to go.

VOLUNTARY DECAPITATION???? AQUA??? WHAT IN THE RED KING IS THIS??????

Tango, the jig is up, everyone knows everything is NOT FINE dude

And here we go again, I am the Watchers' number one hater fr

Ooooooo, Helsknight mention, realization, yess

Grian's "that makes so much sense" is so funny for some reason

REN TOO LMAO. It was just another Tuesday on Hermitcraft.

Mmmm, explanation, tasty.

I wanna know more about Hels not having an admin, UGHG.

NOOOOO, NOT THE DREADED BLAZE FARM

Maybe if I turn off my computer rn, I can live in ignorant bliss.

Nope, continuing.

Reminder that the Watchers literally watch hels too, and probably knew about Tango, like at least one did. Ugh.

This whole conversation is just, ugh, like, everyone is just horrified. I mean, it's really putting into hindsight just how HORRIBLE it was, like omfg.

This explanation of how the farm works, UGH, Tango being so chill about it, UGGHH

When I first read the accident line of Etho's, I thought he meant the portal switching them was the accident, and not that Tango didn't mean for it to happen lol

Seriously Watchers are on my LAST NERVE

Tango talks so casually, omfg.

IMPUUULLLLSSSEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JIMMY DEFENDING TANGO, MY HEART

Hm, how did you not see that coming Grian? Lol

Ty so much for having all the DL people be on Tango's side, literally couldn't handle this otherwise. Cleo's statement about how could they not tell Tango was dealing with this? Mwah

OOOOOOO, Grian askin' about Hels..

???????? Was that???? Grian's voice/thoughts??? In Jimmy's head???? Hm??????

AHA IT WAS, WATCHER GRIAN

Oh, is this were the decapitation comes in?

I'm still so worried about Tango going back to Hels. Please, so scared.

Oop, Jimmy speaking back to the Watchers omfg, love it.

Tango trying to justify why he should be a damn farm, uggghhh. This is literally just him coping and stemming from trauma, and it's not even hurtful seeing as death has no consequence.

Sometimes the Watchers can be funny, as a treat, they still need to stfu.

NOT THE L WORD (love)

YEAH, JIMMY IS GROWIN A BACKBONE, GOD DAMN

AND HE SILENCED THEM, LETS GOOOOOOO

OOP "I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” YEAAAAHHHHHHHH, GAG BRAVO WHEN HE CAN'T DEFEND HIMSELF (he couldn't even if he wanted to)

The l word :) (love <3)

Fade to black and back to the ranch afterwards

"My gloves" awwwwwww, they're Jimmy's gloves now ugghhfew

The DL ppl coming to help ugh, love DL

And Etho takes the comm to explain! Huh, why am I getting deja vu back to a certain Hels player hm

Petition for a oneshot where the DLers explain what happened after this is all over to X, I think that would be great.

Etho a portal expert, do you get deja vu?

LMAO, Patho said he'd need Tango's comm to confirm his theory, and now Etho says he'd need Bravo's comm to confirm his theory, my my how the turn tables have turned. Just sit these two in a room already damnit.

Atlas fr need to move on god damnit. All these issues is because of Atlas, god damn it.

MY MY, HOW THE TURN TABLES HAVE TURNED, USING TANGO'S DATA TO GET TO BRAVO?? OHO

Uhoh, I thought we could be happy and not mention the feather farm again :(

RESCUE MISSION ARC!!!!

Not the Watchers again 😭 I'll give em a pass, cause they're all moods.

I do wonder how everyone else outside of DL is handling all of them being on lock down. Can they still message, or is everyone just cut off from contacting them? How's X, an admin of a sanctuary world, reacting to this fiasco? How's fWhip, the admin of Empires, doing with a good chunk of his friends stuck in one server with minimal to no context?

Mmmm, please have the decapitation work, pleeaasssee

AQUUUUAAAAAA-

Jimmy talking back to the Watchers is my favorite Jimmy <3

Ha, take that Atlas, THE DLERS DID THE PORTAL SO FRICKIN QUICK AHA

I was so worried Tango was just gonna BOOKIT through that port 😭

??????? NO?????? NO???????? NO??????????

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“What are you doing here?!” TANGO YOU CAN'T BE ASKIN THAT WHEN YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WENT THROUGH THE DAMN PORTAL

UGGHHHHH IM TERRIFIED FOR THE REALIZATION OF "Tango joined the game" DON'T DO THAT TO ME, UGGGHHHHHHHH

It's done, it was a roller-coaster, htp can't hurt me (for a while)

Tysm for this incredible fic <3

-🍌

ROUND TWO HERE WE GO 🏃‍♂️

‘voluntary decapitation’ got a LOT of reactions hagsjdha i didn’t know how else to put it…

one thing about tango is that he is gonna try and insist he’s fine TIL THE BITTER END like asking for help is always the very last resort for him in all facets of life. we stan an emotionally walled-up king.

obligatory ‘the watchers suck’ blanket statement 🫡

i’ve talked abt helsknight before but it was SUCH a handy way to quickly get into the explanation, like that’s the whole reason tango ever even realized he was a doppelgänger. and ofc the other hermits who were there are like ‘OH HEY YEAH wtf was up with that…’ they’re so used to having weird shit happen and then just moving on LOL

“I wanna know more about Hels not having an admin” :3

of COURSE tango had to tell them all about the horrible blaze farm while acting like he’s completely unaffected. no way was i gonna leave out any of those tasty details.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: IMPULSE WAS THE MVP 💪 💪💪 even if he accidentally spooked tango in this case, it’s good to know he would go FERAL to protect his friends.

the rest of the DL gang are p great too, NO WAY they’d buy all the ‘doppelgängers are evil’ bullshit 😤 and i really don’t like mischaracterizing someone just for the sake of added drama/having an antagonist. i can just MAKE a new guy for that (hence bravo and atlas HAH)

WATCHER (kinda) GRIAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE FINALLY 💃 usually he’s more careful about not using his abilities near a listener but the situation had him frazzled.

listen. the scene where jimmy finally confronts tango about the destructive nature of his self-hatred is my FAVE. sometimes love means just being there for someone and supporting them, but other times it means laying down some hard truths. it’s the culmination of jimmy’s arc and i’m SO glad you enjoyed it.

it takes a server to rebuild a ranch 💪

i am an ethogirl first and a person second so u KNO i had to have etho lay it out for us, at the same time allowing me to draw parallels between him and patho.

i’m def not qualified to discuss fwhip or empires in general (i’m a sham, i’ve never watched any of it) but x was for SURE freaking out. this is gonna make one hell of a story (hah) for the rest of the hermits when they get back.

CMONNN i couldn’t have the decapitation work, that’d be too easy ;0

i’m cryin at ur reaction going from “I was so worried Tango was gonna book it through the portal” to “NOOOOO???? NOOOOOOOO” like damn talk about foreshadowing 😂

GLAD U ENJOYED THE RIDE we’ve still got plenty of twists and turns to come 💃 thank u for being absolutely STELLAR w the feedback!!

#hels to pay au #HTP ask

[scribbling-dragon]

Adaptive Nature

Chapter 11

Summary:

He sees the letters, perched on the very edge of his makeshift desk, and almost immediately wishes he hadn't. He turns away from them pointedly, staring at the other side of the room and willing himself to forget about them.

It doesn't work, obviously, and the thought of the letters lingers at the edge of his mind, nudging at him until he turns his head, glaring at where they balance, atop the pile of various other pieces of paperwork. He’s not sure which he hates more.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(8,962 words)

reblogs are really really appreciated! this is almost 9k and it took me a while, so i’d love it if you could :]

He wakes first, stirring slightly and squinting against the sunlight that’s already spilling over his face. The lack of curtains allows the light to flood the room, yet it still takes him a moment to collect his bearings. He’s surprised that Tango and Pixl have managed to continue sleeping, despite both of them having rather bright sunlight directly on their faces. He stares at them for a moment, watching, in case one of them twitches and wakes.

He sighs, feeling far too tired for just waking up minutes ago, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself back to sleep. It doesn't work, his mind already buzzing with thoughts and half-formed sentences, leaving him blinking up at the wooden beams with more and more clarity.

When he’s studied the beams long enough for the grain to likely be embedded in his mind for the rest of time he gives up on sleep, sitting up and rubbing at his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes and hoping it might bring him a little more energy.

It doesn't, and he sits there, slumped over and staring at the thin blanket he’d managed to find last night. He runs a hand through his hair, horns only aching slightly as he brushes against them. He pauses then, pressing a little harder on the skin around the horn, feeling only a faint ache.

The horns are cool beneath his hand, oddly cool compared to the rest of him, and almost oddly smooth. He can find the place where they’ve grown from his head, but it’s as though they’ve always been there. He had expected a jagged tear, or some kind of scab around the base. Anything to give him some evidence that they rudely shoved their way out of his skull…three days ago? He met Pixl on the Thursday, and he’s pretty sure it’s a Tuesday. Maybe. He’s not the best at remembering what day of the week it is.

He’d thought it was a Saturday, once, for a solid five hours before finding out that it was actually a Wednesday and he was about as far off as you can be. Being on the road doesn't give him much opportunity to consult a calendar, in his defence.

He looks around the room a little bit more, finding that it looks different to how it had yesterday, the sunlight bathing the room in a faint glow, compared to the long shadows of yesterday, stretching across the ground until they swallowed everything by the time they had stumbled back into the house at whatever ungodly time it was the previous evening.

He sees the letters, perched on the very edge of his makeshift desk, and almost immediately wishes he hadn't. He turns away from them pointedly, staring at the other side of the room and willing himself to forget about them.

It doesn't work, obviously, and the thought of the letters lingers at the edge of his mind, nudging at him until he turns his head, glaring at where they balance, atop the pile of various other pieces of paperwork. He’s not sure which he hates more.

Maybe the paperwork. Probably the letters, he thinks, pulling himself from his spot on the floor almost reluctantly, shoulders popping as he stretches his arms out in front of him, knees clicking a moment later as he straightens up.

He steps over Pixl and Tango carefully, the pair of them still sleeping somewhat peacefully despite the sun glaring into the room at this point. He prays that the floorboards don't creak, and someone must be listening to him because they don't. The chair squeaks as he sits in it, and he freezes, turning carefully to stare at the other two, hoping he hasn't managed to wake them.

He’s not sure of the time, but it looks as though the sun is only just beginning to peek into the fishbowl, meaning it’s a little while past sunrise, but still early enough that sane people aren't awake yet. He continues to watch his friends, maybe a little too closely to be entirely friendly with Tango. He’s like an oversized cat, curled up as tightly as he can, somehow wearing a pair of sweatpants despite the heat that’s already beginning to build in the room.

He’s not wearing his goggles, for once, and he wonders whether they're just for decorative purposes or if they actually serve some function for him. He turns back to the letters forcefully, unceremoniously shoving any and all thoughts of Tango from his mind, instead glaring at the letters and their annoyingly fancy wax seals.

The colourful seal catches his eye as the sun glints off it, and he pulls that one from the pile, tilting it back and forth and watching as the colours shift back and forth as he moves it, swirling into entirely different ones depending on the way the light catches it.

It’s quite pretty, and he feels bad as he chips a few chunks off the seal when opening the letter, setting the envelope aside, the wax seal as intact as he could get it. It’s addressed to ‘whomever it may concern’, the oddness of the phrase not lost on him. As far as he knew most of the surrounding empires knew he was the Sheriff, even if they didn't know his name. He reads through the rest of it, only struggling in some places as the slightly illegible cursive turns into definitely illegible cursive. The letters seem to loop around each other too much, almost twisting into entirely different words.

‘Chromia welcomes you, as I’m assured the other empires have likely already said, with open arms and I look forward to seeing you at the next meeting, whenever the opportunity arises.’ There’s a faint smell of flowers attached to the letter, filling the air around him with a heady daze, and he has to blink a few times, shaking his head to rid himself of the cloying smell.

It’s signed with a neat ‘Scott’ another scribble next to it that might be a flower, but might also have been the pen leaking on the page and this Scott being too lazy to write another version of the letter. Either way, he slips it back inside its envelope and sets it aside, filing away the small amount of information he has on Chromia. Alyssa wanted him to collect some resources from there, he recalls.

The next envelope he picks is a soft green with a pink wax seal on it. He manages to peel this seal back almost perfectly, preserving the embossed flowers and curling vines that decorated the otherwise smooth surface.

This letter hails from Sanctuary, he learns, eyes skipping to the end where Sausage signs off with the title of Protector. His message is similar to Scott’s, only briefly mentioning their prior meeting and expressing excitement at no longer being the youngest empire on the continent and complimenting him on Arrow, apologising for not doing so in person, before moving onto the next meeting Scott had also mentioned.

He’s not sure what this ‘next meeting’ that both letters have mentioned, but he’s becoming a little anxious to find out, sliding the letter back into its envelope and setting it on top of the one from Chromia.

The next one has a rather striking seal, faint wisps of gold mixed in with a deep black, embossed with an insignia of the sun, just breaking over the horizon.  This handwriting is more legible than Scott’s cursive or Sausage’s frantic scrawl, carefully looped letters decorating the page.

To whomever it may concern,

Dawn cordially welcomes you among the other empires of the continent, may your crops flourish (and if they don't then we have plenty to supply you with!) and may your progress be speedy.

We are also thrilled to be the first to welcome you to the bi-monthly meetings amongst all the empires of this continent, the next of which will be held by Dawn on Friday at the highest point of the sun. We kindly request that all weapons be left at the door as these meetings are a time of peace and discussion. Conflicts are to be left at the door and we prefer it if there is no bloodshed in the main square. It upsets the citizens.

Kind regards,

Princess Gem of Dawn.

She ends the letter with a tiny drawing of a sun beside her name, and he’s halfway through re-reading the letter, trying to figure out what it actually means, and where the hell Dawn actually is. 

“Oh hey, you got an invite too!” He would be embarrassed for startling as badly as he did, if the voice wasn't right beside his ear. He would probably also feel a little bit bad for slamming his head into Tango’s chin, if he didn't end up flat on his back a moment later, staring up at him.

Tango at least has the decency to look a little apologetic, staring down at him with wide eyes, hand cupped around his chin. He lets out a long groan, the chair beginning to dig into his back, but he can't find it in himself to move, simply laying there and hoping the ground might swallow him up.

There’s no such luck, Tango instead hauling him to his feet with more strength than he had expected from the netherborn. He pulls the chair back up a moment later, thankfully no worse for wear.

He sits back in it, eyeing Tango warily, before he finds the letter again, unfolding it and attempting to read it again. Tango leans over him, resting his chin on his head, injury apparently forgotten as he murmurs the words of the letter to himself.

Tango hasn't put his gloves back on yet, hand resting on his shoulder. His skin burns so hot that he half expects the smell of burning flesh to fill the air. It doesn't, but the heat doesn't retreat either, instead making itself known wherever Tango leans against him. The other seems unaware of the reaction he’s causing, still leaning against him easily despite having finished reading the letter several moments ago.

“We normally send a representative from the Guild to these.” Tango comments, leaning a little further against the chair, the wood creaking beneath the added weight. “Pixl’s usually the one chosen, and I don't buy that it’s because of his ‘natural diplomatic skills’, Pixl couldn't reason with a brick wall if he tried.”

“I get sent because I’ve never threatened to burn down an entire village.” Pixl speaks up, startling them both. He looks, for all intents, as though he’s still asleep, lying on his back with his eyes closed. He opens one of them slightly to look at both of them, laughing a little to himself. “You know I'm right.”

Tango huffs, resting his elbow on his head, right between his horns. He frowns to himself, shifting a little to try and dislodge the offending limb. It doesn't work, and Tango continues to lean against him. Honestly, you give a short person a little bit of height over you and they instantly exploit it.

“And they’d deserve it.” Tango says, “It’s not my fault the villagers under Stratos are idiots.”

“You called them all village idiots.” Pixl turns to face them, laying on his side, still not bothering to get up. He wishes he were still asleep, feeling more and more tired as the seconds drag on.

“And I was right!”

“Just because they come to the Guild asking for the historical records on Joel doesn't mean they're all village idiots.”

“Yes it does!” Tango protests, incredibly loudly right beside his still sensitive hearing. “We do actual history, not some cheap upstart that’s claiming to be a god.”

“Uh, who’s Joel?” He asks, Pixl’s mouth shutting from whatever retort he was about to throw at Tango, before opening again a moment later.

“He’s the ruler of Stratos, thinks of himself as a god, which he very well might be, or at least blessed by some kind of god. Though on one’s really sure because it would have to be a minor god, seeing as all the other ones-”

“Kicked the bucket!” Tango interjects, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.

“-died.” Pixl finishes, giving Tango a rather impressive unimpressed look. “He has some kind of power, some manipulation of lightning, but he also seems to be able to change between forms at will.”

“He’ll tell you he’s eleven foot,” Tango says, “And he’s not, or not normally, but he can be if he expends the energy to do it.”

“He has wings too,” Pixl adds, “Some kind of eagle, I reckon.”

“I thought he was just an oversized thrush.” Tango shrugs, “He also wears this god-awful toga, thinks it’s the height of fashion, or whatever.”

“He sounds…” he allows himself to trail off, not entirely sure what to say. “Interesting?”

Tango snorts. “That’s one way to put it for sure.”

“You’ll meet him anyway, at the next meeting. He’s allied with Sausage, which means that most of the other empires have some kind of connection to him, either by proximity, or simply because Sausage has one of the most important exports around here.” Pixl tells him, sitting up and folding his blanket away.

“Be prepared for wood jokes,” Tango whispers to him, rather loudly, “They're absolutely horrendous.”

“Oh,” he tries not to read too far into that, turning back to the unopened letters with a lot less enthusiasm than before, “Great.”

“You’ll be fine.” Pixl assures, and when he turns around again he finds that Pixl’s already tidied everything away, and is currently in the process of wrestling his bag shut. “It takes a little to get used to, and he’ll likely take some interest in you with the whole,” he gestures in his direction, “Thing.”

“Ah.” He hadn't particularly thought about that. Hadn't really paid much mind to the fact that he has, in fact, met one of the emperors before meaning they're likely expecting something different than his current state. He tries not to feel too apprehensive about that, and either Tango must sense this or have impeccable timing, because he decides to grab his arm in his freakishly strong grip and drag him away from his desk.

“Nope,” Tango pulls him a little closer to his front door, silencing him before he can even think about protesting, “We’re gonna have fun today, and fun is not being had with you sat at that miserable little desk doing paperwork.”

“Fun?” He tries, and fails, to not sound too doubtful. “I doubt that a visit to an Ancient City can be classed as fun.”

“Then you have no sense of adventure,” he pauses to grab his own bag, several items trailing messily out of the top, much less neat than his own or Pixl’s bag. “What’s not to love about the Cities? Gives you an adrenaline rush, at the very least.”

“And several heart problems along with that.” Pixl appears at his side, offering up his own, much smaller, pack and providing him with the opportunity to escape Tango’s grip, slipping it onto his shoulders before turning, spinning in a tight circle to try and locate his hat. He spots his bow first, collecting that and shoving his collection of arrows into the side pocket of his bag and praying it doesn't spill them everywhere.

It’s been left on a stout table, and he snatches it up, settling it on his head, between the horns. It sits a little more comfortably, though he has to spend a minute adjusting it, concentration split between that and making sure he doesn't trip over the scattered piles of materials as Tango bounds ahead, chattering about the trip and the specifics of the City they're visiting.

The horns curve up slightly at the end, and he knows, even without looking in a mirror, that they're longer than before. He tries not to think about it too much, breaking into a small jog to catch up with Tango and Pixl, ignoring the way his knees creak slightly with the effort.

Tango hurries through tacking up Bullseye, him and Pixl doing it a little slower. He checks Bullseye’s saddle as Tango leads him out, tugging at various straps to make sure the saddle isn't going to swing around halfway through their trip and leave Tango with an unfortunate view.

Tango seems to have done it rather well, despite his haste, with the girth only being a little loose, and he rather suspects that’s from Bullseye breathing out rather than any fault of Tango’s own.

He doesn't see either Alyssa or Lotus as they're mounting the horses, but he assures himself with the knowledge that they're already aware of his plans for the day, rather than him just disappearing on them with very little to go on, as he’s made a habit of doing recently.

Dust stirs around them as they break into a gentle trot, and he sneezes, eyes watering a little as he blinks it away. He nudges Arrow forward a little faster, and she’s perfectly happy to comply, trotting down the main street (though it’s more a dirt track than anything else) at the head of their little procession.

“Sheriff!” Her speed only means she startles a little more violently at the shout, and he yanks at the reins, making sure she’s not about to bolt before turning her around to face their visitor.

Sausage grins at him, a short way away, waving, before jogging closer, only slowing when Mist backs away as he approaches, Pixl struggling slightly to keep him in place. “I didn't think I was going to catch you before you left.” He’s still grinning, reaching a hand up to stroke Arrow’s nose, murmuring something to her that he doesn't quite catch. He doesn't miss the way Sausage’s eyes dart towards him, obviously taking in the new additions to his appearance.

“Sausage,” he didn't really expect to see him here, “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing really!” He pulls his hand back from Arrow, “It’s nice not being the youngest empire on the continent anymore, lemme tell you, and I just wanted to see how everything was coming along, you know?” He doesn't wait for an answer, “Obviously, I wanted to make sure the wood I provided was of a good quality, though, I only ever get compliments for my load.” He grins a little more at that, a short giggle escaping from him.

“Well, everything’s coming along nicely, at least.” He gestures with one hand, reins held in the other, “As you can see.”

“I can!” Sausage nods, turning around to admire the buildings again. He can't really blame him, they're quite well-built for the limited resources and people they have to help with it. “I also wanted to come to discuss the logistics of starting an alliance with you, though, your Deputy seemed unwilling to agree to anything without you there.”

He can see Lotus doing that, but Sausage looks rather annoyed by this fact. He chances a glance at Tango, finding him staring at Sausage with…not quite distaste, but definitely a slight dislike.

“Well, I’m heading out now, so I'm not really in the place for negotiations currently, but I’d be more than happy to do it once I return.”

“Oh I can see that,” Sausage turns towards Pixl and Tango, still grinning, “Manage to find yourself some friend with the Guild, I see.”

“I have.” Sausage turns back to him, nodding to himself as he does so.

“Well, I always say it’s good to build relations with other empires. Trust me,” he sticks his hand out, obviously angling for a handshake, “Alliances are more powerful than you might think.”

“I'm sure.” He accepts the handshake, finding Sausage’s grip firm, leaning down slightly in his saddle to do so.

“Good, good,” Sausage nods, eyes far away, and he leans back, tugging his hand back with him. Sausage doesn't let go, grip remaining steadfast, clenched around his hand and refusing to release him. “Say, have you been on any other trips recently?”

He looks up, head tilting to the side, eyes swirling with that sickening blue. His face is slack, devoid of any emotion, even as he maintains his strong grip. He can feel his bones creaking, being pushed together and he worries they might break, tugging uselessly.

“I don't see why that’s any concern of yours.” He replies, releasing Arrow’s reins completely to try and pry Sausage’s hand off of him, nails digging into Sausage’s skin to no avail.

“It is my concern,” Sausage hums, and there’s a weird undercurrent to his voice, as though someone else is speaking alongside him, a weird chittering sound building in the air around them. “I know where you've been, Sheriff.” The chittering sound rises around them, building his ears until it physically aches.

It cuts off abruptly when Tango shoves Bullseye in between the two of them, Sausage’s hand abruptly releasing his own, leaving him peering around Tango and his bag to watch for Sausage’s reaction.

Sausage shakes his head, once, twice, then looks up, that same grin plastered back on his face. “Sorry about that!” His voice wavers, “I'm not sure what came over me.”

He stares in silence, not sure how to respond to that. His eyes are missing that sickening blue completely, the white of his sclera has returned. As though it never happened in the first place.

“Well,” Sausage laughs, and it’s distinctly awkward now, “I’d best be off, though, keep an eye out for any travellers as you go! There’s a group making the rounds currently, dressed up in all sorts of weird colours, and hassling people about certain things.”

“What?” He manages.

“Group of travellers?” Sausage tilts his head to the side, still backing away slowly as though he’s hoping they don't notice his retreat. “They're quite odd, tried to seek sanctuary in, well, Sanctuary, and I denied them.” He shudders, “There was something seriously, seriously wrong with their magic, it was almost…hostile. It lashed out.” He shudders again, visible even at his current distance. “Yours is a lot nicer. It’s inviting.” He smiles once more, before deciding that he’s far enough away, taking a running leap, yanking his elytra wings outwards with his hands.

He takes a few moments to fire off a rocket, and all of them stand in silence, simply watching as he shoots away, across the horizon and fading into the distance.

“That was weird, right?” He asks, “That wasn't just me, that was weird.” He looks at Pixl and Tango. “Right?”

“That was definitely weird.” Tango looks at Pixl, something angry in his eyes, “Don't you think?”

“Yes.” Pixl sighs, steering Mist back towards the path out of the fishbowl. “But that’s not what we’re worrying about right now.”

“Of course.” Tango bites back, nudging Bullseye forward as well, riding alongside him. Pixl rides up on his other side, leaving him sandwiched between the two of them and their brief, indecipherable looks. He tries not to feel too glad when they emerge from the top, allowing him to ride ahead. He knows they're heading in the general direction of the Guild, at least at first, had gone over the general directions with Tango the previous evening when they were sat around the fire.

He tries to let the wind whip his worries away, carry them away on their swirling waves like he normally would. It doesn't work as well today, his heart thrumming equally with anxiety and excitement, urging Arrow faster and faster. His bow weighs heavily over his shoulder, thumping a steady rhythm against his shoulder blades.

He only slows when the Guild fades into view, sitting up straight in his seat and waiting for the other two to catch up. Arrow is only slightly out of breath, snorting and eager to ride like that again. He doesn't feel any better, but he ignores the lingering worries as the others join him, remaining with Arrow as they disappear inside the Guild to collect whatever resources they wanted.

Pixl emerges first, with a smaller, more lightweight pack and different boots with thicker soles. Tango emerges several minutes later, his usual jacket and red trousers missing, replaced with an almost entirely black outfit, only small hints of blue on the ends of the sleeves and the edges of his jacket.

It doesn't seem like a colour he would choose at all, leaning much further towards reds and oranges, but Pixl doesn't react, so he tries not to either. He’s rather certain he fails spectacularly on that front, only managing to look away when he hears Pixl stifle a laugh.

“Is that really necessary?” Pixl asks, sparing him from his embarrassment.

Tango scoffs, pulling himself onto Bullseye again. His jacket, which is more of a short cloak actually, swishes back and he swears he can see a glint of steel hidden beneath there, but it falls back into place too quickly for him to get a better look.

He looks away when Tango looks at him questioningly, spurring Arrow forward before any questions can be asked. Thankfully, Tango doesn't pursue it any further, taking the lead this time.

He rides behind Tango, finding himself fairly distracted as he keeps Arrow at a steady pace and simultaneously studying the new outfit Tango wears. The cloak flaps a little in the breeze, the short ruff fluttering around his neck as they gallop onwards, lurching back and forth with the motion of the horses.

He almost doesn't realise they're stopping until Tango pulls to a halt, and he has to yank on the reins to bring Arrow skidding to a stop before she crashes into Bullseye and embarrasses them both.

She snorts at his rough treatment, tossing her head and yanking the reins forward, causing him to lurch forward with the force of it. He pats her neck, hoping to appease her a little, dismounting in one fluid movement, following behind Tango as he leads Bullseye towards what looks like a small stable.

“Why is there a stable?” He asks, “Here?”

“It’s one of the main research posts for the Guild,” Tango leads Bullseye inside one of the stalls, latching the door shut behind himself. “It’d be inconvenient if we had to just hope for the best everytime we came here.”

“Research for what?” Arrow seems content to stand in the stall, hanging her head over the door to watch him.

“We research the sculk and the way it spreads, though I'm mostly there to make sure those researchers don't get lost or killed.” He shrugs, “Y’know, the usual.” That does not fill him with confidence. At all.

“That’s nice.”

“And he’s here for a reason,” Pixl appears at his shoulder, “The cave system is a maze, though it was like that when we found it, and you could get lost in there very, very easily. You get lost down there, you're as good as dead. The place is a maze.” Really, really not filling him with confidence.

“Good thing I know my way around there like the back of my hand.” Tango preens slightly beneath the attention, adjusting his cloak and gathering the fur ruff closer around his neck.

“But I would still prefer you to use the map.” Pixl hands him a rolled up piece of parchment, wincing as Tango opens it, only to fold it up into squares.

“You mean the one that I drew?”

Pixl sighed, a long-suffering and drawn out thing. “Yes, the one you drew.”

“Just wanted the clarification!” Tango begins marching towards the mineshaft entrance, one that actually looks stable and not as though it’s going to fall apart at the slightest hint of a breeze. His cloak swings back and forth behind him, tail flicking over the ground as he disappears into the darkness.

He hurries to catch up with him, arriving just in time to watch Tango stuff the map in a pocket and light his hand up with a flame. He doesn't bother grabbing a torch for himself, the flame bright enough to dance over the walls of the tunnels, flickering over the unlit lanterns and half-finished cobwebs that decorate the walls and beams.

Every now and then Tango stops to light one of the lanterns, mostly at turns and corners and places where the path splits, presumably lighting their way back to the surface. He hardly hesitates when deciding between tunnels, simply pausing and tilting his head before carrying on.

It’s quite impressive how familiar he seems to be with these corridors, turning down them with a practised ease that suggests he’s travelled through them hundreds of times. His clothes help him blend into the shadows of the tunnel, despite being the one carrying the flame. He finds his eyes skipping over Tango, looking instead at the flame. Which is probably the intention for the design of the clothes, but it doesn't make him much more comfortable in his own, rather light-coloured, clothes.

There’s a chittering sound in the air, seeming to come from all directions and skittering along his senses, raising the hairs on his arms. The chittering seems to form words, but not any that he could ever hope to understand, whispers traded back and forth in a language long forgotten.

He finds himself growing more and more reluctant with each step forward he takes, the chittering sounds almost pushing him back, urging him to turn tail and flee, to retreat to the safety and light and warmth of the surface.

He sticks closer to Tango, careful to keep himself within the golden glow of his flame and ignoring the way it flickers over the walls, shadows lengthening and sharpening. He can see them moving from the corner of his eye, clustering and clamouring after them- after him. They seem to pursue him, but speeding up only speeds them up too, bringing them closer to nipping at his heels and tugging at his clothes.

Tango doesn't seem to mind how close he stands, at least, simply sparing him a sideways glance before continuing onwards, turning left down another tunnel.

The walls turn darker, something that looks like moss crawling across it, smothering the rock with an impenetrable darkness that doesn't retreat, even as Tango casts his flame over it. Instead, it seems to hiss at them, clustering together and shimmering at him from the depths of their darkness.

Their false stars shimmer, and if he looks at it for too long his vision blurs, head aching with the hissed words of the sculk. More than once, he finds himself leaning on Tango, blinking the daze from his mind before straightening up again.

Pixl leans on him once, too, murmuring something under his breath, eyes distant and far away. He swears, when Pixl looks up at him, he can see the same deep blue infecting his eyes too, spreading across his sclera. But he blinks, and the stars retreat, leaving his eyes as clear as though it had never happened, whispering soft apologies in a language he can understand.

Tango remains unaffected, though he watches his gaze get distant a few times, the flame he’s cradling flickering and sputtering, allowing the darkness to surge forward before he seems to shake himself free of it, the flame blooming once more and herding the shadows back into their corners.

They stumble around another corner, Tango’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and keeping him upright, and into a cavern, larger than even the one with the Machine in it. It’s infinitely worse too, with sculk crawling over every single bit of stone, infesting the whole area and glimmering at him tauntingly from the depths.

He has to take a moment, leaning against Tango and breathing in and out slowly, to completely block out the chittering in his ears, pressing in on his skull. His head aches with it, as though someone’s slowly lowering an anvil onto his head, gradually increasing the pressure until it’s unbearable.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tango apologises, turning towards him a little to better hold his weight. It would be funny, watching Tango struggle to hold him up, if his head didn't feel like it was about to explode at any moment. “I didn't think about this, normally we bring ear muffs or something for the researchers that are less accustomed, though I promise it becomes a little more bearable after a while, and I straight-up just didn't think about it; normally it’s just Pix with me and he’s kinda used to it, but also not really, I mean, you can probably tell that because you were the person he was leaning against on the way down here but still-”

“Shush.” He fumbles for a moment, before managing to press a hand against Tango’s face, hoping that it shuts him up, for at least a moment.

His head still feels like someone threw it several thousand feet, and his body aches as though he’s just been forcefully dismounted. It gathers in his legs, behind the joints and crawling up his spine, fading out just before it reaches his shoulders.

He pulls his hand away from Tango’s face, looking down and finding them closer than he had expected. Tango stares up at him, head tilted backwards and his goggles playing a game with gravity. They're practically hugging, Tango’s arms wrapped around him to keep him upright and ensure he’s not making an embarrassing descent to the ground.

“You feeling any better?” Tango asks, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Sorta.” He shrugs, shoulders twinging with a faint ache as he does so, though not as intense as the ache in his lower back and legs. “My head’s stopped spinning.”

“Oh,” Tango smiles at him, “That’s good, reckon you can stand on your own?” He won't be able to if Tango keeps smiling at him like that, making him feel weaker in the knees than he already is.

He nods anyway, and Tango steps back, hands still held out as though he expects him to fall over at any second. When he doesn't, Tango takes another step backwards, lowering his hands, relighting the flame he had cradled the whole way down.

He doesn't want to think about how far underground they are, about how much rock is currently above his head and separating them from the endless skies. It feels claustrophobic, despite the cavern roof arching high over their heads.

He stares up at it, head tilted back until it’s slightly painful, staring up at the sculk that’s consumed the entirety of the ceiling too, the glimmering from within the infection glimmering, like a set of real stars. If real stars held enough malicious intent to be felt from this far away.

“So,” he says, for lack of anything better to say, “This is an Ancient City.”

“It is!” Tango bounces in place, glancing about himself with visible excitement. “What do you think?”

“It’s…something.” He settles on, watching as Pixl wanders a little further away, footsteps completely muffled by the boots he’s wearing. Tango’s feet don't make a sound as he trots along after him, and he takes a moment to wonder whether he has pads that silence his footsteps. Like a cat.

He has to put conscious thought into keeping his footsteps silent, falling behind the other two at first, before Tango realises that he’s further behind and stops to wait for him. They're venturing down a short path, one that has so far been untouched by the sculk, but it’s still creeping closer. When he looks at it, he can almost see it pulsing, moving closer inch by inch.

Pixl lights several of the lanterns along the walkway with his torch, meaning they eventually catch up with him, even at his slower pace. They don't speak, and he finds the silence a little overwhelming, even as the chittering fades into the background.

He finds himself searching for sound, ears flicking forward at the sound of Pixl breathing in, then backwards again as Tango’s tail swishes through the air with the slightest of sounds. He listens to the popping and crackling of Pixl’s torch, and the near-silent whoosh of Tango’s flame, cupped in his hands.

He can hear himself breathing, each inhale and exhale loud in his ears as they walk down, him carefully settling his boots on the floor and praying he doesn't kick a random pebble and ruin everything.

Still, the City draws closer, and it stands at a magnificent height even in its ruined state. The sculk creeps over the walls and underfoot, and he can hardly stand how Tango can bear to walk over its mossy covering, watching as it seems to cling to his fur, short tendrils sticking to him until he shakes them off.

It squishes underfoot, pressing and condensing downwards as he steps over it, careful to avoid the larger vines in fear that they might try and snag at his ankles. They slither, pulsing with a faint glow, and he finds himself slightly sickened by it, bile rising in his throat the longer he stares at it.

Tango has to physically pull him away from staring at it, his hand closing around his arm in the way he imagined a vine might. He yanks himself away, hand stray towards his bow, before he realises who it was that grabbed him, relaxing and ignoring the worried look Tango gives him.

He takes a deep breath, before following after Pixl, Tango sticking a little closer to his side than before, even at his slowed pace. Pixl has stopped, just a few feet ahead of them, and he finds himself slowing as they approach him, listening to the pulsing in the air, watching as a faint glow strengthens and weakens in time with it.

He steps closer, despite his apprehension, peering around Pixl and at the…thing in front of him.

It has what seems like a gaping mouth, a faint chittering noise rising from it as it twitches, the ivory appendages curling closer, jerking in their motion, before snapping wide open again. The light pulses from within the depths of the thing, a wailing noise rising from its centre, blue pulsing out, before the wails die again, leaving him staring at the darkened thing.

The ivory appendages continue to twitch, and he watches as sculk shimmers over it, appearing and disappearing just as quickly with a faint whisper. He’s so entranced by the horrific thing in front of him that he doesn't even realise Tango has stepped past him until he’s directly over it.

The blue light from within bathes his face, and he watches as Tango lowers his goggles over his eyes, leaning closer to the thing. He hovers a hand over one of the appendages for a moment, watching as the sculk shimmers over it once again and the wailing fades a bit.

Tango grabs one of the appendages, and yanks, a harsh sound rising from within the thing until he’s covering his ears and taking a step back. The wailing unites into one voice, rising higher and higher as it screams. He watches Tango, breath stuttering in his chest, as he continues to stand over it, ears pressed back and one hand still curled around the appendage, preventing it from curling in like the other three had.

His vision fades out, a dizzying darkness washing over him, the sound of a heartbeat filling his ears. He feels sick, feels as though he’s actually going to be sick this time, stumbling to the side, leaning against the broken building beside them, trying to catch his breath as the darkness fades away and leaves him blinking back the fuzziness of his vision and breathing heavily, praying he doesn't actually faint or throw up. Or both.

Tango doesn't even glance back at him, hand tightening around the appendage before he yanks on it again. And he really should be prepared for the shriek that rolls over him this time, but it still manages to get to him, the sound of a thousand voices condensing into one as he huddles beside the wall, brick crumbling beneath his fingers as he desperately tries to stay upright.

He can't even see Tango’s eyes, the goggles shining with the blue light that’s positively radiating out from the thing glinting off his goggles and giving him an otherworldly glow. His face is bathed in cold light, and he finds himself staring at him, worrying about the lack of a grin on his face and the set line of his jaw as he stares down into the thing with an abrupt coldness.

He’s more prepared for the darkness that sweeps over his vision this time, at least, but it still leaves him gasping for breath and clutching at the wall like a lifeline, only causing more of it to crumble away beneath his fingers, nails digging into it until his hands ache.

The heartbeat thunders in his head again, and he finds himself feeling positively sick with anxiety, not even brave enough to curse Tango out loud for whatever the hell it is he’s doing. Pixl seems relatively calm as well, but he’s also staring into the thing as though it’s the most beautiful thing in the world so he’s not feeling very confident about it.

The thing shrieks again, a third time, and he braces himself for the heartbeat and the nausea, only to find that it doesn't come. He pauses, cracking his eyes open slightly to look at Tango.

He’s stepped back from the thing, flexing his fingers and watching as the fourth appendage finally manages to curl inwards, protecting its blue centre fully. He curls in on himself when he hears the heartbeat again, significantly later than it had been the previous times, watching as Tango takes another step back, staring down at the ground.

He follows his eyes, watching as the sculk beneath where Tango had just been standing begins to shake and shift, curling around something that seems to…emerge from within it, stretching upwards with a sickening noise, like that of bones cracking and muscle stretching.

He watches, in a horrified kind of awe, unable to tear his eyes away from the hulking form of the monster that rises from the sculk. He stares at it, hardly daring to breathe, pressing a hand over his mouth in the fear that his terrified wheezing might alert it to his presence.

Tango doesn't even flinch as the warden leans down to sniff him, inhaling with a growl. He doesn't shy away from the creature that could kill him easily, tear him in half or rip him to ribbons. Instead, he reaches a hand up, dancing careful fingers along one of the antlers of the thing, slowly running over the branches, before he rubs along its face, scratching at its jaw.

He watches, feeling sick to his stomach but too much of a coward to do anything, as the warden leans back, surely preparing to tear Tango apart, and he really, really didn't want this to happen. He had been so sure he’d left the bad luck and misfortune behind at home with-

The warden doesn't kill him. It doesn't even snarl. Instead, it pushes its head further into Tango’s hand, an odd rumbling sound rising from its chest. Its heart slows too, the beat of it not quite thundering in his ears anymore and Tango laughs to himself, a small chuckle more than anything, continuing to scratch at the warden’s head, burying his hand among the layers of sculk that seems to act as some kind of fur.

“It doesn't bite.” Tango says, pushing his goggles back up onto his head, burying them within his hair as he looks over his shoulder and back at him. “They're quite docile if you know what to do.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie.” Pixl snorts, standing from where he had been crouched and brushing his trousers down, flicking over several tendrils of sculk. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he says, already walking off, disappearing around a corner a moment later.

He stares after him, before turning to look at Tango. “Are you not going to do anything?”

“No.” Tango shrugs, already seated on the ground, “My only purpose on this trip is to make sure this guy doesn't kill you.” He gestures at the warden, and really, he can't imagine it murdering someone anymore, not when it seems obsessed with the head scratches Tango is giving it.

He steps closer, and it snorts, turning its head in his direction, sniffing at him. He freezes, letting it shuffle a little closer to him, sniffing along his clothes. He stares at Tango, wide-eyed and begging for him to save him from this.

Tango makes a weird humming noise in the back of his throat, and the warden turns back to him with a snuffling sound, seeking out scratches again, practically melting into Tango’s touch.

He’s more hesitant approaching this time, but he manages to settle himself beside Tango, crossing his legs, even as his knees ache, sitting maybe a little too close to Tango, but he’s not going to say anything if Tango doesn't.

“Any reason why you didn't tell me that you were gonna do this?” He asks, trying to sound as polite at possible while also, hopefully, communicating to Tango ‘you fucked up’.

“Ah,” Tango looks faintly embarrassed at that, tail twitching as he looks away, “I did think I’d already told you and forgotten. My memory isn't the greatest and I assumed either I or Pixl had said something.”

“I would have still appreciated the warning.” He says, “You were…scary, just staring into that thing and summoning the warden.” He shivers, rather certain he’s not going to get the image of Tango, bathed in a cold light, out of his head for a long time.

“Sorry.” Tango leans his head against his shoulder, still petting the warden’s head. And after a moment he reaches out a hand too, stroking a tentative finger across its head. The sculk is a lot softer than he expected, and the warden simply sniffs at him before relaxing again.

“How does this even work?” He asks.

“I'm not really sure,” Tango admits, shrugging, “It’s the only reason I got put on the explorer’s team in the first place, I was here as a researcher at first, but then something went wrong and a warden emerged from the City, uh,” Tango looks away, breathing in sharply, before looking back at him again, “One of the younger interns was badly wounded, and I didn't really think about it before I was heading off to try and kill the thing.”

The warden rumbles a little more, shifting the way it's sat so it’s a little closer to both of them.

“Except, I never really killed it, I grabbed onto one of its antlers as leverage, and it just…collapsed. Really took me by surprise, I just wanna say, and the other researchers just found me with a docile warden. Meaning they could go around the City and make as much noise as they wanted while exploring.” He pauses, “The intern was fine, by the way, they had a scar but they could still walk. They were fine.” He reiterates, “But the head of the exploration team put in a special request to have me transferred, and, well.” He gestures, and it’s a little too sharp, a little too angry, to be happy.

“Oh.” He swallows, looking away, “Did you not want to be a part of the exploration team?”

“No.” Tango laughs, but it's bitter and irritated, “I might be the head of it now, but I could very easily have been the head of a research department instead. I wanted to research, but now I can only do that in my free time and pray I don't get told off for ‘neglecting my duties’ as the exploration head.”

He’s silent for a moment, unsure on how to respond to that, turning several ideas over in his head. “I think you would have been a good researcher,” he says, hardly daring to speak above a whisper and keeping his eyes averted, head turned away. “You're very obviously passionate about what you do choose to research, and you're so obviously smart too, much smarter than I could hope to be with books. Sure, you might be good at making wardens docile, apparently, but that doesn't mean you can't be good at other things. You made me excited about the Ancient Cities and I'd never even heard of them before and yet you made them sound so…amazing. And it’s really obvious that you know a lot about them, And,”

He turns to face Tango, finding him a lot closer than before, eyes shining as he stares at him. “And it’s just really cool.” He finishes, finding that whatever else he wanted to say has escaped him, his thoughts overtaken and filled with the way Tango’s staring at him, eyes wide and ears pricked forward.

He doesn't miss the way Tango’s hand finds his own, warmth blooming where the two of them are touching. Tango leans a little closer to him, mouth opening as though to say something.

“Tango!” Pixl’s voice shatters the relative peace, “Sheriff!” He sounds desperate, and he’s on his feet in a moment, Tango’s hand still grasped in his own.

Tango takes off running first, skidding around corners, and he can't do anything but follow him, feeling a sharp pang in his chest as Tango’s hand slips out of his own, running after him and ignoring the ache that continues to radiate through his legs as they both sprint towards where Pixl’s voice is coming from.

He can hear the warden lumbering behind them, its footsteps heavy and ominous as it chases after them.

It doesn't attack them when it catches up, at least, but they're left staring at a squirming mass of vines, each one pulsing with a faint light, a reddish glow pouring off of them. He watches, with mounting horror as they seem to curl around something within them, watches as a hand emerges from within, peeling them backwards, even as the vines seize the limb, wrapping around and tugging it back into the mess.

Tango doesn't have any such hesitations, shoving a long knife into his hands and pulling out one of his own, beginning to hack away at the vines, beating them back with nothing more than a blade. He watches, heart threatening to beat out of his chest, before the weight of the knife registers, and he lurches forward to help Tango on unsteady legs.

The vines turn to him, curling around his ankles teasingly slow, even as he hacks at those surrounding Pixl’s wrist, not quite trusting himself to cut away the ones at his neck leaving that instead to Tango. The vines around his legs continue to curl, slowly increasing the pressure until his bones feel like they're going to splinter into several pieces, and the ache from earlier has grown into full-blown pain.

He ignores the way they're continuing to climb, ignoring the slimy feel as they slither over his skin, the way they pulse and beat in time with heart and whisper to him. They whisper words that he understands, and he wishes, cutting away at another vine that was about to try and capture Tango, that he didn't understand what they were saying, wishes that he couldn't hear the promises they whisper to him, the threats that they make and the way the words echo inside his head.

He ignores it, and ignores the way they're still wrapping further around him. He ignores it, until he can't anymore, and attempts to free himself, trying to yank a foot upwards and out of the mess that is the vines.

Pixl is free, he can hear his ragged breathing just behind him, but he isn't, and the vines don't seem half as willing to release him, tightening further and further around him, more surging forward to replace the ones he severs.

Tango helps, in the end, pressing his hands to the vines and setting them ablaze, tugging him backwards and away as soon as they fall limp and the fire creeps too close for it to be comfortable.

He stumbles, legs refusing to bear his weight and his ankles aching in protest as he leans against Tango, uncaring of the way he seeks out the other’s hand, grasping it in his own and drawing strength from that.

He watches as the vines seem to writhe, and their screams are so much worse than those of the thing before. Because this time he can hear the words they're saying, can make out and understand the language they speak.

“That’s not right.” He says, without even thinking about it.

“No,” Tango’s arms around him tighten a little, “It’s not. They shouldn't be acting like that, these vines shouldn't even exist, there’s nothing like them that I've ever seen before, and yet they seem to have infested this space so thoroughly that they managed to bury Pixl.”

“There’s something going on.” Pixl says, and his voice is harsh and wheezy, barely reaching above a whisper despite the strain in his voice. “Something stirring.”

“What?” He asks, “What do you mean?”

Tango’s arms tighten around him a little further, and he looks up, away from the burnt remains of the vines, finding Tango and Pixl exchanging a look. Pixl sighs, then nods, looking away.

“There is something stirring,” Tango says, his voice worryingly serious, “And I'm afraid we might not have been entirely honest with you.”

#juno.writes #adaptive nature fic #jimmy solidarity #pixlriffs #tango tek #solidaritek #empires smp #empires smp fic #empiressmp #empires tango #empires jimmy #empires pixl #empires smp s2 #empires smp season 2 #solidarity gaming #solidaritygaming #tangotek #team rancher #ranch duo

[wasted-tango]

WASTED TANGO

A warriors-inspired webcomic by @aerosour!

Synopsis: "The cats of YardClan, SnagClan, FarmClan and the Station have lived in an area long abandoned by humans for countless years, though not with ease. Challenges created by a hostile environment have driven war and animosity for ages, and cats are beginning to get fed up with the vicious cycle."

"Tanglepaw is a medic apprentice in the struggling YardClan, where a life of warfare becomes increasingly unsustainable to its population. It only takes one cat to challenge the system. Will it be them?"

CONTENT WARNING: Wasted Tango is projected to contain sensitive and potentially upsetting themes such as animal harm/death, major character death, blood / gore / body horror, themes of warfare, themes of religion and religious trauma, and use of foul language. Please read at your own risk! I am not responsible for anyone disturbed by these themes or others.

This project will be starting January 2024, and will update Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays at 13:00 CST until further notice.

---------

#wt pages - all pages (including covers)

#wt characters - character reference sheets

#wt art - all art related to the comic that is NOT a page

#wt info - posts like this!

#wt other - asks, lore drops, just me rambling. stuff that isn't listed above.

#wasted tango comic #warriors comic #warrior cats #warriors oc #wt info #webcomic #wc comic #wc #wt pages

[harmony88]

Are You My Mummy

Chapter 4 Excerpt: 

She was already in bed by the time he walked back into their room, texting. It was Jackie, he could tell by the way she was fighting not to throw the phone on the nightstand and pretend it didn’t exist, and he sat down next to her, kissing her hair. 

“It’s late, what’s she going on about?”

“Tony requested our presence at dinner tomorrow. I’m getting out of it.” 

“Why? It’s Tuesday. That’s what we normally do.” 

“She’s making a roast.” 

He made a face and she laughed, finally setting the phone down so she could cup his cheek instead, and she pulled him into a soft kiss. He forgot the book entirely, letting it slip from his fingers so he could hold her close, lips tangoing, until the phone buzzed, and she pulled back with a sigh. 

“I don’t mind seeing Tony, Rose. I actually prefer it.” 

She smiled, genuinely; in the way that made him forget how to breathe. 

“You prefer it?”

“Of course. We’re best mates, me and him.”  

“Let me get this straight,” she said, looping one leg over his. “You could have all night off tomorrow to do whatever you want; to study these spells or research the scarab or even take a drive somewhere and get a change of scenery, and you’d prefer to spend it at my mother’s house, eating dry roast I know you hate and playing some silly game with my brother for six hours?” 

“You forgot ‘listen to Pete snore while we watch telly’.” 

An expression he’d never quite seen before took over her face, and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him rather passionately, biting his lip, sucking on his tongue.

“Ow, Rose -” 

“Shut up.” 

It was one of those moments that gave him whiplash, going from worrying that there was something wrong to feeling like nothing could ever be so right, and he knew as he continued to kiss her, that he’d somehow eased her burden, whatever it was.

Read the first 4 chapter on Ao3 here. 

#newfic #tentoorose #the mummy #here we goooooo

[holsten-from-hasa]

Two of Them Tuesday is on us again, have two chapters

#export.txt #echo's writing #hermitcraft #tangotek #keralis #bdoubleo100