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cerastes · 2 months

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I'm thinking back on my experience with IS2 and IS3 -- both as someone who loves the game mode on his own free time, as well as someone who has streamed hundreds of hours of both -- as, yeah, thing is, the most exciting part of IS3 was definitely the scramble to get the Week 1 Waves 15 clear. It gave an achievement in the horizon, something to strive for, a real endgame challenge that required team building knowhow, execution, and luck.

But after that, it never quite reached the same level of fun as playing or streaming IS2 consistently got. In a lot of ways, IS3 was an improvement, but so many things were half-baked, that you couldn't help but imagine the version where these ideas were legitimately fleshed out: The Light system exists almost exclusively as an extra layer of punishment, and the punishments associated with light ranged from "slap in the wrist" to "you got Metastatic and your 3 damage dealers have it". One particular IS3 exclusive enemy, quite the common enemy at that, requires you to build around it at higher Waves or just fight a constant uphill battle forever: If you don't have at least one source of air Stun, you're constantly at the edge of losing Lives or the run. One end boss, The Last Knight, suffers from Overwatchitis the way the entire gimmick it has is that it inflicts you with hard crowd control (freeze) for basically 80% of the map's length, which, yes, it's an entirely manageable boss, but god it's so mind-numblingly boring. And that's not mentioning that going for that boss can just be a bust at any time if you don't have a Gopnik Solution, further limiting your build options. Another boss, Izumik, while thematically sound, is another slog to deal with, needing around 6 minutes of dealing with a an actual ton of enemies while trying to prevent it from absorbing said horde of enemies before you can even start damaging it (and it's got baseline 150k HP, 2000 DEF, and 70 RES so it's not a fast deal, either) while regularly unleashing map-wide 8 second Stuns after it becomes vulnerable. It's just not fun to constantly have to deal with "oops your entire gang is hard CC'd" as a main mechanic while trying to whittle down what's already an incredibly durable boss. Of course, fun is subjective, but at least everyone I've asked, from my circle or otherwise, has agreed that it's a slog to have to deal with that.

IS2 wasn't without flaws, but I have a lot of fond memories running the most disgustingly crappy meme comps requested by viewers on stream, and never really thinking "this is straight up hopeless", sure, sometimes it'd be difficult because we had a straight up ass team, but that's all it was: Difficult. There's so much that can go wrong in IS3, and that's not necessarily bad at all -- it's a roguelike mode, after all, it comes with the territory and I would not have it any other way -- but at least, in IS2, whenever something goes terribly wrong, you still have things you can do about it, when things go terribly wrong in IS3, and the way they can go wrong without it being any bad decision of yours (such as oops! Metastatic on your key units) makes luck that much more punishing and thus outside of the player's agency in a game mode that otherwise demands a lot of execution and knowhow. Luck is more impartial in IS2, basically, while Luck mostly exists as either punishment or avoidance of punishment but very rarely as a benefit in IS3, and I hope IS4 is better about this because, look, I enjoyed IS3, but it very rarely reached the consistency of IS2 in terms of quality, in my opinion.

#arknights #i even forgot to talk about how Arts damage is gimped to shit

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trophywifemac · 2 months

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IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA ↳scenes that became memes: part 3/?

#I'm always a little worried that some of these are more obscure but there are always a few big ones in every set so we're good #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #iasip memes #always sunny #dennis reynolds #mac mcdonald #charlie kelly #frank reynolds #dee reynolds #multi #my stuff #my gif #the gang becomes a meme

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sturn777 · 1 month

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𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙!

tags: @st7rnioioss @its-jennarose @timmyscomputer @kriissy4gov @liz-stxrn @sunrisemill @mattssluttywaist @riasturns @mx0qin @junnniiieee07 @alorsxsturn @nonameisthegameandilovejake

𖦹 everyone says he's not a pda typa guy but I SAY DIFFERENT - just not like too much yk? like he always has an arm around your shoulder or waist and will occasionally kiss your head but like he would NEVER make out or kiss properly in public

𖦹 not too big on pet names, probably only really says them as a joke and maybe one has just become habit? i’d see it more as silly nicknames tho like ‘smelly’

𖦹 if he farts he blames it on you and makes it REAL dramatic

“EWWW YOU FARTEDD WHAT THE FUCK GROSSS! EWWW YUCK!”

𖦹 definitely makes you gang up on nick and chris with him

𖦹 ALWAYS forgets to check his texts!! like you wont hear from him for DAYS and then he’ll just text like ‘sorry didn’t see this’

𖦹 keeps a hair tie on his wrist at all times and stole it off you — you were hanging out and were talking to somebody else so while you were distracted he took your hair tie

“matt have you seen my hair tie?” “nuh uh”

𖦹 falls asleep on you EVERYWHERE! kid is always tired

𖦹 takes .5 of you all the time.

𖦹 if you have siblings he LOVES THEM no matter if they are older than him

𖦹 refuses to take chris places but if you need a ride he is in that minivan in SECONDS

𖦹 such a minivan mom it’s crazy

𖦹 you send edits of him to him and you both rate them together

𖦹 definitely have a good giggle over memes and silly tiktoks

𖦹 fans LOVE YOU like bffr why wouldnt they?? like they knew u guys were together before you guys even started SPEAKING in any way

𖦹 late night swimming 😘😘

𖦹 marylou adores you, momma mary frfr

𖦹 you and jimmy do gang up on him tho

𖦹 DEFINITELY has been on holiday (vacation) and gotten you guys matching bracelets

𖦹 definitely taught him how to do french braids so he could braid yours and chris’s hair

𖦹 best hugger in the world like damn.

𖦹 loves doing whatever you want to do

𖦹 boy is WHIPPEDD

#jake webber x reader #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #jake webber #tara yummy #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

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hero-israel · 5 months

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For me one of the worst things about the leftists full mask off moments has been their ease in weaponising tragedy to suit their own narrative. It’s very easy for them to just throw critical thinking out the window and just say anything remotely connected to Israel and the Jewish people is akin to Nazi Germany or apartheid. I’m black South African, I know my own history very well and I was lucky enough to learn about Jewish history as best as I could; before people open their mouths to spew some of the most vile rhetoric I’ve ever seen, they need to crack open a history book first. It’s very easy for them to throw those words around when it has no direct impact on them

This is a very important point, thank you. I really appreciate you sharing your insights and how these constant projections are just a co-opting of the pain of black Africans. The average Tumblr user was negative-16 when apartheid fell, and will believe any purported comparison from any account that had already spread a good meme.

"I don't like you, so you're (*totally unrelated demon here*)" is just anthropologically basic, how pretty much anyone will talk if they have more anger than facts. It's so basic that past a certain point I can't really blame people for it - the only hope is to make them recognize it and grasp that they should stop. I keep talking about leftists doing it because some of them seem so totally unaware they are doing it, so firmly in denial that they have the same habits and styles as right-wingers, that they sound exactly the same as a Wall Street zillionaire saying Obamacare was Kristallnacht.

You can't go two days on here without seeing notes saying "I don't understand.... how can a leftist be racist? The left stands for equality!" Gang, there's really no such thing as a human without human failings, there is no team you can join where everyone becomes perfect just by wearing the shirt.

#Apartheid #leftist antisemitism

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surrogate-fawn · 9 months

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May I... humbly suggest #17 for the ask meme 👀

The Outlaw's Labor (Wild West AU)

Prompt: "I really need to change position"

Characters: Fawn/Newt/Hassan, in a poly marriage. ((Newt & Hassan both belong to @mittysins))

Context: Fawn is the leader of an outlaw gang, and just so happens to be the only woman among them.

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If there was anything Fawn could appreciate about the desert, it was the transformation it made after dark. The unrelenting sun would shatter into twinkling silver pieces all across the sky, the burning sand would become a cool ocean of silk, and the lonely wind came alive with the sounds of nighttime critters.

Fawn heard the wail of a lone coyote somewhere off in the distance. It was separated from its pack, and that made them kindred spirits. She glanced down the hill at the dying embers of the campfire below her, and at the circle of men sleeping around it. Her own empty bedroll lay open in the formation of snoring bodies, between the two boys she'd taken as her husbands.

A small smile graced her lips as she watched her lovers' slumber from afar. Newt had placed his Stetson over his face while his head rested back on his saddle. Hassan lay curled on his side, his long brown hair pulled into a ponytail and the handle of a shiny revolver nestled in his fist. Fawn wondered how the man could be such a ball of nerves but still sleep so close to a loaded weapon.

Her hands moved to cradle the underside of her greatly swollen belly, its curve hardly contained by the fastenings of her shirt. The denim didn't have much give to it and -- even though it was one of Hassan's shirts -- it just barely fit her gravid bump . . . especially now that labor had dropped it low and heavy on her frame. The only sign of pain throughout Fawn's entire being was the shallow sway of her hips as she felt the next contraction starting.

She'd been "keeping watch" atop that hill for a few hours, laboring quietly to herself while gazing down the length of the canyon. It weren't no secret she was keeping; hell, her boys had known the baby was on its way since that afternoon. She'd mostly kept her discomfort to herself all day, until her husbands had asked what was wrong.

Newt had convinced her to make the gang camp early, to give herself plenty of time off Sidewinder's back before labor got too deep. She was grateful he'd talked some sense into her, because she'd been much deeper in labor when they made camp among the hoodoos than she'd been letting on.

It's not that the labor didn't hurt -- it sure as hell did! -- it just wasn't anything Fawn found herself unable to handle. Her reactions to the intensifying pain were so mild, her gang was under the impression her labor had only recently begun. Why cause a stir by correcting them? What on God's earth were those lawless men supposed to do with that information?

While the men of her gang sat around drinking and playing rounds of cards until sunset, Fawn and her husbands had moved to a more private area of the canyon -- where she could feel free to labor away from gawking eyes. Well, except four of 'em.

For the five hours the gang had lollygagged around camp before nightfall, Hassan and Newt had never left her side -- Hassan, especially. He was the one who had gotten her pregnant, there was no mystery there, and he took that responsibility as seriously has he handled his guns.

Hassan's hands trembled with anxiety every time Fawn furrowed her brow in pain, and he'd startled at every tiny groan she uttered. For such a talented and imposing gunslinger, he could act as frightened as a rabbit in a jackal's den. His fear was evident in the fact he never laid a hand on her -- he'd been hesitant to touch her in any way since he learned about the pregnancy, as if she'd suddenly become made of glass. Instead, he'd stood a few feet away and annoyed her with constant suggestions on how to make her labor "easier" -- all of which were total nonsense. Where he got the idea that drinking water somehow opened the womb, she'd never know.

Newt was a more hands-on in his support, offering his wife reassuring backrubs while she rested between contractions. Naturally, he had more innate sympathy to the kind of pain she was experiencing; but he was a bit over-eager to help ease it. He seemed to be under the impression that digging his hands into her sides somehow eased the pain -- when it, in fact, made it much worse. During a contraction, Fawn had needed to bark at him several times to stop touching her before he finally got the message. After that incident, Fawn just wanted to be left alone.

For all their sweetness, her boys had really started to try her patience by the time the stars came out. She'd managed to convince them to sleep for a while -- assuring them that once her labor "started picking up", she'd wake them.

Yeah . . . she never had any intention of doing that.

She'd brought a child into the world before, her husbands hadn't -- but goddamn, if they didn't act like they knew better than her. As the one most experienced in childbirth out of that whole gang of ruffians, Fawn qualified to be her own doctor. She knew what the subtle cues of her body meant as it slowly worked her new baby out of the womb -- that ancient language of birth between mother and child.

"Oh, you're fixin' to come out before sunrise," Fawn thought, internally speaking to her baby. She rocked her hips a bit wider, a huff of air leaving her nostrils as she felt the harsh pinch of her cervix being pulled further over the mass of her child.

The contraction faded away, and the outlaw leader rested her back against a rough pillar of stone -- one of hundreds surrounding their campsite. Auburn ringlets of her hair had escaped the pinned updo she tamed her curls in, falling loose throughout the day's sweat and toil; but now, even in the chill of the night, they clung to the back of her neck.

"Actually," Fawn thought, "you might be comin' a lot sooner than that."

Ever since that morning a pressure had been rolling into her hips like a thunderstorm on the horizon, getting louder and deeper every hour. Now, it was barreling over her.

Another contraction started less than a minute after the last one. Fawn pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow, her hands continuing to support the weight of her low-hanging belly. She felt the heft of her child moving down. With her own hands, she felt the rough outline of its shoulder resting just above the bony squeeze of her pelvis.

"Mmm-hmm, you're comin' a lot sooner than that."

Fawn shuffled around the edge of the rocky pillar, hiding herself from the view of camp behind an outcrop at its base. Her hands moved from her underbelly to her belt buckle as she doubled over with a breathy groan -- the contraction reaching its peak of intensity and refusing to let up. She shimmied her trousers and undergarments down to her knees and held herself in a supported crouch against the jagged rock, her hands splayed out to either side of her.

Lightning flashed behind her eyelids as they closed tight. The pressure was thundering and insistent, pounding on her bones with every heartbeat. Then, the storm inside her finally broke.

Fawn let out a soft sigh of relief when she felt her bag of waters rupture. The immense pressure lessened in an instant as a gout of hot fluid hit the cool sand with a dull splash. Fawn let her head lull back, thankful to the Lord above that she'd thought to remove her trousers before it happened; they were her only pair.

She had no hope of getting her boots and pants off in her condition -- her boys had needed to help her with that for weeks -- so why fret over it? Besides, this would make it easier for her to hike her clothes back up and head into camp once she was done. There was no reason to be indecent around her men . . . her authority was threatened enough as it was by her pregnancy.

To outside eyes, she looked every bit a woman in a desperate plight: outlawed to the wastelands, a price on her head, laboring with no assistance, and preparing to give birth with her most of her clothes still on; but Fawn was the picture of serenity.

"Alright, rugrat, your cushion's gone. Can't be very comfy in there now," Fawn thought with a flood of anticipation. "Are 'ya ready to come out now?"

She gave a few experimental pushes as she felt the next contraction ramping up. With the third timid push, she felt the cold night air enter her canal as her body started to flower open.

"Ooh, yeah," Fawn thought, adjusting her stance to be wider, "you're ready."

When the contraction reached its peak, Fawn pressed her boot heels into the soil and bore down with all her might. She held her breath until she was lightheaded, stopped to exhale, inhaled, and pushed again. Her nails dragged against the rock as her fingers spiked to find better purchase.

Fawn was able to wring about three good pushes from each contraction, but she lost count of how many she endured -- they were starting to bleed into each other. Excess fluid dripped from her folds as she silently worked her baby down. One long, deep push had her skin bulging out obscenely, the head finally slipping down to fill up her canal.

Pressing her back harder against the pillar, Fawn lowered herself into more of a squat, allowing her to bring her hands around. She swiped away the pebbles digging into her palms and put both hands between her legs to explore her progress.

She didn't need a doctor to tell her what was going on, Fawn could feel it all for herself. Her vulva was hot to the touch and firm as a stone wrapped in skin -- everything flushed with blood and straining with the pressure that would soon force it to open.

The pad of her left middle finger accidentally dipped into her enflamed opening, and Fawn let out an involuntary gasp as she felt a bit of damp hair sitting just inside her stretched perineum.

"Oh! Hey'ya, rugrat," she said inside her head. A small chuckle left her dry throat. "I wasn't expectin' 'ya to be there, yet."

Unbidden tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It didn't matter if she was in the middle of the desert without a bed or a home to call her own, she felt much more at ease giving birth here than she had her first go-around:

Long before her days as "Fawn", she'd married young -- far, far too young in hindsight -- to a much older man. Her beautiful little Mercy had been born when Fawn herself was still little more than a child, and it had been an agonizing ordeal. Her daughter was yanked into the world with forceps by a doctor who was far too rough. The tongs had left indents on her baby's soft skull for days, and they'd left bruises in their wake. All that pain, all that trauma for them both . . . only for whooping cough to steal her daughter from her arms within the year.

Fawn tilted her head to gaze up at the milky way, and wondered if Mercy was anywhere among those flecks of light. Just to be safe, she blew a kiss to the sky. Then, she readied herself to deliver her second-born.

She reached into the back pocket of her trousers, pulling out the flask she'd snuck out of camp with her. Fawn twisted off the cap with her teeth and drenched her hands in the whiskey. A subdued grunt was the only sound she made as she threw her hands between her legs and dove into another push.

The top of her baby's head began to appear. Fawn's fingerpad traced its shape as it forced her opening to stretch, until that little patch of hair was the rough shape of a teardrop. Fawn pressed her hands to either side of her labia, cradling the bulging near-crown. As she pushed, she held the skin open in preparation of what was to come. It wasn't long until a sharper grunt left her strained throat -- the baby's head stretching her in earnest with her most recent push.

Fawn tried to relax her body as the stinging burn of crowning began, but her thighs and back were aching from holding a squat for so long. She turned her eyes back to the stars as a focal point, admiring their heavenly glow while she bore down on her baby.

Her fingertips lightly pressed on each side of the slimy, squishy bubble of hair as it opened into a proper crown. Long, deep breaths were the closest thing to a scream Fawn allowed herself as the ring of fire branded her between the legs.

Wider, wider, wider, she opened. With each push her fingertips were pulled further apart. God, how much of a head did this child have?! She should've expected the child to be large, Hassan was a biblical giant of a man. She tried opening her legs to make room, but her trousers acted as shackles, only allowing her knees to move about a foot apart.

Fawn threw her head back, teeth clenched and eyes shut tight against the pain she was feeling in every inch of her body now. She tried standing up straighter, but her legs refused to close. Fawn blew out a loud breath from pursed lips as she gave into another desperate effort. She continued to prod at the reddened, stretched skin around the emerging head, hoping to peel as much of it back as possible to move things along.

When she felt a large, trembling hand touch her knee, she didn't need to open her eyes to see who it was that had found her. It was Hassan. She knew his touch very well . . . the evidence of that was currently being born. She'd missed it.

But if Hassan had managed to find her out there in the dark, then where was...?

"We're here, darlin'," a soft voice came from the other side of her. A smaller hand touched her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Ah, there was Newt.

Fawn blinked her eyes open. Once her vision adjusted, the light from the stars and half-moon were enough to see by. She saw the worried creases on the faces of her boys as they knelt in front of her.

"Evenin', fellas," Fawn croaked out. It was the first sentence she'd said aloud in hours, and her voice was parched as her tongue. "You're just in time. The 'lil anklebiter's makin' an appearance."

The boys glanced at each other and almost in unison craned their necks to see between her legs.

Newt's face twisted in an odd mix of shock and awe. "Lord Almighty . . ." he murmured.

Hassan's tanned face went so pale he reflected the moonlight like a mirror.

Fawn whined, bucking her hips as she felt another contraction rearing its ugly head. "Boys, I really need to change position," she said, her tone amazingly subdued for the situation. "I can't . . . can't open my hips enough. Get my trousers off."

The boys leapt into action. Hassan removed her boots with practiced ease and both helped pull her bunched-up trousers the rest of the way down her legs. Freed from her cloth prison, Fawn sank the rest of the way to the ground, her legs falling wide open and bracing on each side of the rocky outcrop.

"God, that's better," Fawn sighed, finally feeling some of her muscles relax.

When their crowning child was fully revealed to them, Hassan put his hand over his mouth and his shoulder slumped against the rock.

"Don't you dare go dark on me, Has," Fawn scolded, her words pinched and breathless as she pushed into her hands. She paused to take in a huge gasp of air. "This is your doin', remember?"

It was as if the baby had been waiting on its fathers to be there, as suddenly every push Fawn gave sent the head surging forward. Even when the pain was at its worst, Fawn never lost her composure. She panted, she hissed, and she gave the occasional quiet groan; but otherwise, she voiced no complaints.

Her boys were still and silent, perhaps too unsure what to do to offer any more unsolicited advice -- thank God. At least they could see for themselves she knew what she was doing.

With the chirping crickets and hooting owls as her background music, Fawn managed to slide the head of her child free in just four more good shoves after changing position.

"Do . . . you need anything?" Hassan timidly asked.

"I just need y'all to be quiet."

It wasn't an insult. With a large head hanging out of her and shoulders already pressing their way through her pelvis, any sound louder than a whisper was making her nauseous.

Fawn breathed deep, her thumb lovingly stroking the cheek of her baby while she waited for their body to turn. She felt their face twitch under her fingers, their mouth opening in a cry that had no breath behind it yet.

"I know, rugrat. I know it's uncomfortable, I'm sorry," she thought, her breath coming in harsh huffs through her nose. "Mama's got 'ya, though. She's got 'ya and your daddies are both here waitin'. It'll be okay, sweetie."

With her next contraction, Fawn made it her mission to push until her baby was out; and, by God, birth that child she did -- feet pressing against rock, hips angled towards the sky, and with both fathers watching on in stunned and obedient silence. The shoulders pressed through one right after the other, and all Fawn had to do was give a gentle tug under the chubby arms once they came free.

The sand under her became drenched as the hips of the baby slipped free of her own. Fawn held the scrunched newborn up in front of her for a few seconds, giving it a quick once-over with her eyes. From what she could tell, he was perfect!

"Well, ain't you a handsome one?" she crooned, laying her son over her stomach. He squirmed face-down on the worn denim of her shirt, whimpering quietly. "Come on, you can do better than that," Fawn encouraged, giving his shoulders a rub.

The newborn must've been exhausted from the hours-long squeeze. He could still only muster enough life to whimper, until his mother gave him a flurry of harsh pats to the butt. Then, he finally cried.

With his very first breath, that little boy proved he had his mother's authority in his blood. Because forty feet downhill, the entire gang was woken to the sound of his cries.

It didn't matter if they'd been sound asleep, they were all going to know his Mama had a new reason to kick their asses.

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((I'd love to receive more prompts for this AU! I'd love to get one that would allow me to continue with the family fluff after this birth scene. I would've added it to this drabble, but I didn't want to get too far away from the prompt/))

Hope you enjoyed!

#birth kink #fawn drabbles #mittysins #poly relationship #borrowed ocs #labor kink #Fawn/Newt/Hassan #Wild West AU #fpreg labor and birth #fpreg

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willgrahameatscraftsingles · 6 months

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I love darko in every spacedogs fanfic I've read. He's such a fuckin ass but a fuckin funny pal to Nigel well Nigel falls head over heels for a sweet wholesome man who sorts fruit in his fruit cup by best bite.

Just two literal killing machines talking over beers about how Nigel thinks with his dick over such a polar opposite personality.

Also darko just.not seeing the appeal. He's too straight for his pansexual pal. Like.

"You gave up on a smoken hot babe like Gabi for....a sweater starry eyed man who forced you into owning a swear jar???? Oh boy you have gone sooooooft."

Also in a few fics, the two still running a gang in Cali and Adam becomes the groups normal friend. That meme "I've only known Adam raki for 5 minutes but if anything happens to him then I'll shoot everyone in this room then myself" but with a group of like 10 Romanian drug dealers. And Adam is just happy to be there even though he is not into what they are doing.

#spacedogs

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shygirl4991 · 2 months

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Then there was six

Art done by @alianarepasa do not repost Summary: After the event of Splits into Three everything felt like things were back to normal, that is until Three’s boyfriend kicks down his front door announcing he has fallen under the same spell he did. Together they will learn the secret of the cherry potion and with SMG4 splits put an end to the evil gang's plan. Sequel to Split into Threes

Last Chapter Next Chapter

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Comedy, Romance, action and adventure

Four’s eyes go wide as a prince version of himself appeared out of thin air to save his boyfriend, Three was in shock to see a forth personality. The princely SMG4 walks up to Three and smiles softly “I'm Prince 4 the Heroic personality of SMG4.” Prince smirks handing a rose to Three "I saw this and had to get it for the most beautiful man i have met! Are you hurt anywhere my love?" Three blushes staring at the rose in awe. Four pouts seeing the display of affection "Uh Three? Earth to Three!" hearing his boyfriend he snaps out of his flustered daze and shyly plays with the heart pin.

“Uh ahem Prince, how many personalities are out there?” he leans close, nervous about the answer. Prince hums counting his fingers, Ringmaster sighs as he walks up to the pair “Since charming here has forgotten there are six of us in this grand adventure!” Three and fours face go pale hearing the number. Slowly Three turns to his partner “H-how do you have six personalities!?” Four shakes his head in panic “I DON'T KNOW YOU ONLY HAD THREE WHY IS THERE MORE NOW?!” Prince gives the pair a bright smile “Don't worry together we shall gather our friends and set things right!”

Three sighs playing with his pins as Four stands there freaking out about his personality. These splits are nothing like his, sure he had his problems but his splits got along well given he was open with himself the only thing he wasn't so excited about was his heart. He learned the hard way not to hold things back, if SMG4 has so many splits that hated each other it made the man wonder what could be going on through his boyfriend's mind. Three turns to check on his partner who is on the floor freaking out, Artist was on the floor with him giving him comforting head pats “There you go let it all out original, once you feel better we can look for the last two! Hey i know what will help you a blast from the pastel, check this drawing i did when we started dating three! ”

Three walks up to the pair and lifts up Four “Alright up you go scrub, you done being a crybaby?” hearing those words Prince snaps his fingers “Ah that's why i was coming over here!” The group turns looking at the personality as he flips his cape. He smiles at the group and points behind him “Parent needed help with Karen's children so I came to collect you all!” The pair blink before Three speaks up “Who the fuck is parent?”

Prince starts walking the path then pauses looking at the group waiting for them to follow, Ringmaster claps and starts to walk to Prince “I guess our current mission is to be fathers, who is ready?” He looked over the group to see Producer was starting to panic. He sighs, throwing his cane up changing its shape into a whistle, Three stared in awe as the man blew it making the other personalities stand up and look at him. “Men this mission should be easy. We will make a deal with Parent take care of some kids and we may make it in time to make a new video before Saturday, any questions?”

Three raises his hand “How the hell did your cane become a whistle?” Ringmaster looked at the whistle and chuckled “Uh meme energy, we are meme guardians.” Three was shocked to hear this, he started to wonder if the trio had any. He hums remembering how spade would eat metal he wondered if that was meme energy or has bad eating habits. With another clap the splits follow as four walks up to his boyfriend “This is going to be a day huh?”

SMG3 smiles, giving a kiss on four cheek “You got that now come on, if we lose your splits it be cause your to damn slow!” He runs after the group leaving a blushing four standing there. A small chuckle was heard, turning around he saw a shadow watching him “Who's there?!”

The man walks out of the shadow, Fours eyes go wide seeing himself in orange overalls. His orange pink eyes looking right at his blue ones, he felt himself shiver just looking at this personality “I can feel the rejection at first sight, what an honor.” he walks up to Four without a care and smirks “Green with envy there Four? Jealous how Three had it easier with just three while you have six?” Four takes a step back staring at the man in front of him “What are you?” He nods giving Four his hand “The name is delinquent, jealousy is my game. I'm also the guy in charge of your ambition!” he flashes a smile at Four that slowly gets him to relax as he takes his hand “Hello delinquent nice to meet you sorry for how i acted you just…i guess i'm not a fan of how jealous i have feeling over how my personality has been acting.”

Delinquent nods “Good luck with Parent, he can be a lot.” He turns to walk away only for SMG4 to stop him “Hey you should come with us! We are grouping up to fix this mess.” Delinquent pauses and sighs turning around and giving his original a nod, Four smiles as he walks the path the others went on not noticing Delinquent talking out a small bag “Hm Cherry coffee huh?” he lets out a chuckle as he hides the bag following four. The group make it to the park to see a green SMG4 crying, Prince runs up to him and hugs him “My friend why do you cry? Have you lost the children again?” Hearing this, Three stares at them in shock “AGAIN?!” the green SMG4 looks up and gasps, wiping his tears “Honey! You're here!” He gets out of Prince's hold to hug Three. He blushes and awkwardly pats the personalities head “So i'm guessing your Parent, could you uh let go?” with a small squeak, Parent lets go of SMG3 and smiles softly at him. Three could feel himself melt at the soft look Parent was giving him, one of the things he has become weak to since getting feelings for the man.

SMG4 walks up smiling at the group “Hey everyone look who i found!” the personalities turn and go pale seeing delinquent, Three walks up to him “Ah the final one perfect! Who are you?” Artist grabs Three pulling him back “Wow D! Didn't think you would join us…you seemed to be on your own back at the castle.” delinquent turns to the purple personality with a smile “We all have the same goal, dont worry im a team player i don't bite. Though i don't care much for you SMG3, just know I don't like you. The name is Delinquent and if you talk to me I will be your worst nightmare!” delinquent shoves Three out of his way knocking the spade pin off his overalls, he tries to catch the pin to only end up touching Delinquent hair. He was going to apologize when he noticed something strange on his gloves “Blank ink? No…dye?”

He picks up the pin and puts it back on staring at delinquent who is smirking with the other personalities, SMG4 smiles at the group “We did it! Now how do we fix this?” Three wipes the paint on his overalls and smiles at his partner “Well Blue we go to the castle and make a plan how to get everyone to connect, you need to accept yourself like i did. I know it won't be easy but given these guys are different from mine you have plenty of time.” Four nods taking Three’s hand for comfort, they smile at each other before Parent screams “THE CHILDREN WE FORGOT ABOUT THEM!” The pair's eyes go wide as they separate running around the park, the eight of them work together to find Karen's kids before they face the wrath of an angry mother. Delinquent hides in the shadows watching them all look around, he sighs turning around only to be stopped by Producer “I know you're hurt D, but please stay it might not be so bad! Remember what you told me?” Delinquent chuckles patting Producer’s head “We are the main character heh don't worry i know, but being the main character means you know too much. PD…uh lets just find those fucking kids honestly how we havent gotten beeg killed is a mystery!” Producer giggles taking Delinquent's hand as they walk together looking for the missing kids.

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #alianarepasa #split into threes #splits au #six splits for fours

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