#and I can’t use my computer for any actual research

[wewontbesleeping]

btw the hardest part of my classes is trying to do it on a laptop from 2012 lol

[milfjuulpod]

Guidance, Ch III

A/N: hiii sorry this took so long, all the chapters are posted on my AO3, same username. hopefully the next update will be better, i’m not too proud of this one :,(

previous chapters are on AO3 and my master list, here

You and Melissa had agreed on meeting after school for coffee on Thursday, giving you each time to prepare some work. One of her students was showing signs of dyslexia, and after a one-on-one meeting with the student, the redhead decided to take action. Via email, she gave you some information to get started and make an IEP for her. It was quite early in the year, and with it being your first year doing this job, you were quite nervous. Nonetheless, you put your best foot forward and got to work nearly immediately. 

Of course, your habit of drowning yourself in work caught the attention of others. A knock at your door pulled you away from the research in front of you. “Hey you! I feel like you’ve been here for weeks and we’ve barely bonded,” Janine announced herself, entering the room. The younger teacher was sweet, and even though her overzealous personality could be a bit much, you knew it was coming from a good heart. 

“Sorry, Janine. I get wrapped up in work pretty easily. How’s your Tuesday going? Kids treating you right?” You asked, minimizing the tabs on your computer. 

“Oh my students are great, right now we’re working on fractions and it’s actually going good!” She said enthusiastically. “I’m glad to hear, can I help you with anything?” You continued. 

“Uh, yeah! Jacob and I are going out for trivia on Thursday, you should totally join us! I heard you went to a great university and we would love to spend some time together after school. Have you met Jacob? He’s so sweet you’ll love him, you know actually-” You cut off Janine before she could start one of her infamous rants, which you heard lots about and we’re lucky to avoid until this point. 

“Actually, I can’t Thursday. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to get to know you guys but, I’m actually meeting with Ms. Schemmenti to help one of her students out.”

Janine’s face dropped, and just as quick as it did, she returned to her peppy demeanor. It reminded you of what she previously said about Melissa, and you silently wondered if there was any truth to it. “Oh, no worries. I’m sure we’ll figure something out soon,” Seemingly wanting to avoid more rejection, Janine gathered her things. “Wait, Friday is our half day, right? Maybe we could go grab lunch or something after school? Make up for me missing trivia?” You offered, not wanting to make her feel bad. 

It seemed like you made the right choice, as Janine immediately bounced back. “That would be awesome! I’ll tell Jacob right now, see you around!” 

-

The rest of the week passed by rather quickly, filled with new paperwork and projects that you continued to work on. Thursday came before you knew it, and with the final bell, the plans you had put most of your attention to were gathered, on their way with you to meet Melissa for coffee. 

Opus was gorgeous inside, filled with neutral colors and artwork from the team and local artists. Plants covered the walls and even decorated some tables. It was nice, you were happy to meet the redhead in a place like this. Upon seeing her, you felt your breath catch and couldn’t take your eyes away. Sure, it was right after school so she was wearing the same pink sweater and tight jeans, but something about seeing her more relaxed, outside of the school walls, it made your heart beat a little bit faster. 

“Hey hon, thanks for meeting with me after school. I brought some stuff to brainstorm with…” She trailed off, picking a table for the two of you and immediately covering it with papers and binders. Janine’s voice rang in your head again, and you began to feel insecure about where you stood with Melissa. Maybe even stupid, for thinking she would find a friend in you. 

“That’s fine, I’m gonna grab our coffees, macchiato?” You asked, but Melissa was quick to turn down the offer. “Absolutely not, you buy me coffee all the time. It’s my turn,” she walked past you, gently pushing you to the side with a hand on your back. Just as quickly as you remembered the infamous words about the older teacher, you forgot them. 

The rest of the afternoon was that way. One moment, completely entranced by the woman across the table from you, unable to pull your attention away. The next, avoiding eye contact and feeling uncomfortable and used. Something told you Melissa noticed your switch in behaviors almost every time, the way she would mimic your actions. It was impossible to read her. Maybe she wanted it that way, maybe you just couldn’t read her. 

After a couple of hours of this back and forth, the two of you decided to call it. “Thank you, again, for helping me. It means a lot,” Melissa said outside of the cafe, wind blowing her hair ever so slightly. “Oh…It’s no problem, I’ll see you tomorrow,” You smiled and turned to take your leave, anxiety bubbling at the surface, until a hand grabbed your wrist to face its owner yet again. “Hey, what’s goin’ on with you today? Usually you’re more…I don’t know…upbeat and engaged. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just…I mentioned to Janine the lunch you shared with me earlier and she said something that made me a little nervous,” You answered. As much as you didn’t want to tell the truth, you figured lying would be even worse. Instead of replying, Melissa motioned for you to continue. “She said she hoped you weren’t buttering me up for something and why else would you be nice to me?” 

Wrong choice. Melissa’s eyes widened and you could see all the rage she had in her expression. “Oh, so I can’t be nice to the newbie for one day? I gotta get somethin’ out of it? And you believed her…This whole time? Whole time you’ve been buying me coffee and offering to help, what are you trying to get out of it?” She yelled, and didn’t give you any time to retaliate as she got in her car and left you on the steps. 

Defeated, you stood alone for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You felt like an idiot, again. For believing what Janine said, and for treating Melissa poorly. You threw your work into the passenger seat of the car and drove to trivia. 

-

“Oh my god! I thought you weren’t coming? Weren’t you going to meet Melissa today?” Janine nearly yelled as she ran from her booth of friends up to you. “Yeah…I did. It didn’t go too well actually so I wanted to come here and at least have a good night. I hope that’s okay?” 

“Of course it is, here come sit with all of us.” Janine led you back to the booth with Jacob and Gregory, happy to be in the company of new friends. “Alright, trivia doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, what happened?” Janine asked, which was followed by Jacob interrogating you as well, and Gregory listening attentively. You explained the entire afternoon to the three of them, hoping to at least get it out of your system. All three of them had something different to say, but you took Gregory’s advice to heart. 

“Listen, Melissa’s a bit tough on the outside, but she always means well. Just apologize to her for reacting that way and, with time, I’m sure things will be fine.”

Thankfully, trivia started shortly after the advice dump you received, and you were happy to be done talking about it. Hopefully tomorrow morning, with a macchiato and an apology, you could make it up to Melissa. 

[preservationofnormalcy]

[I am in a nature preserve in rural Louisiana. A small ranger station-like structure in the middle of the wetlands welcomes me through chain link fences as my driver signals his approach, and as I exit my vehicle, a man steps out of the station.

He is heavy-set, tall, a little overweight but in that working-man sort of way where his strength is evident. He’s wearing a white labcoat over a colorful shirt and jeans, with messy hair and old school mutton chops. I can’t decide if he’s going for a vintage look or just doesn’t want to deal with his facial hair. Huge hands clap together once as I walk up to the building, and he smiles.]

Meghan] Mr McCollough?

Jethro] Please, please ma’am, call me Jethro. Please, come in.

[The first room seems typical of what I would expect a station in the middle of the swamplands to look - a cot, couches, radios and locked long glass-paneled cabinets with guns. A large metal door on one end leads me into the next room, and this one is different. Computers, rows and rows of filing cabinets, and haphazard piles of paperwork on a laboratory benchtop that yield to clean, colored tape-zoned areas holding glassware, boxes of “Vacutainer” tubes, plastic racks. A well-used benchtop centrifuge in the sun-bleached cream and baby blue colors of equipment from the 80s holds tubes of separated liquid – clear on top, a strip of white, and deep red at the bottom. Another metal door on the opposite side leads further into the building. He gestures to a somewhat empty table with a chair on either side.

Jethro’s accent is slight but noticeable, quiet but gregarious. He doesn’t sit yet, but fumbles with a kettle and a hot plate.]

J] Don’t get many visitors out here. Pardon the mess. Tea?

M] Oh. Please, actually.

J] Yes, ma’am. The people above my head tell me you’re here to ask questions.

M] That’s right. I saw the, uh… immunization posters in the Virginia site I toured.

J] Oh, sure. That’s been routine for decades, now. Since they were developed in the 50s. Lots of progress, of course, but always lots to do. Half the issue’s the paperwork, you know. But, uh, yeah.

M] Does everyone get immunized?

J] If I had my way, yes. That’d be the right way to do it. But no, it’s only really required for so-called high risk zones, that’s what they decided.

[He gives me a wry smile over his shoulder.]

J] This here’s a high risk zone, ma’am. But…you won’t be here long enough for it to matter.

M] …here’s hoping. Umm. I had a list of questions.

J] Top of the list is probably “Jesus H, they’re real?”

[He laughs briefly at his own joke.]

M] …my work is more about the efficacy and efficiency of the Office’s divisions, departments, and programs. But yeah, kind of.

[He pours the hot water into two teacups, and hands me one, sitting on the opposite side of the table. His cup looks comically small in his large hands.]

J] Get the feeling you’ll be asking that a lot in the next months.

M] I do too. Let me see… what is the objective of the… Abnormal Virology Department?

J] So our mission statement is about the research, control, and prevention of diseases – viral diseases specifically, but other stuff comes up, but y’know, that’s another story – uh, diseases that fall outside the Office’s definition of “normal,” and our big goals hopefully are curative or preventative treatments for those diseases. It’s a tall order.

M] And… lycanthropy is a virus, like the flu?

J] I mean, as much as any virus is like another. Each one’s unique, even the flu subtypes, but yeah. If I may use some jargon,

[He pauses with a hint of eagerness for affirmation before continuing.]

J] It's a lysogenic virus, so if you get infected, it integrates into the host genome, more like, uh, I guess herpesvirus is one most people would know. Once you get it, you got it for life because it hides in your DNA. Like herpesviruses too, you have lytic phases too, where it becomes active again, it emerges out of the genome based on cues from environmental pressures or host conditions. Like the phase of the moon, you know, which is kind of unique. When it’s not actively causing disease, when it’s just sitting in your genome at these sequence specific integration sites across the chromosomes, it also screws with normal gene regulation. The sites it sits down, you get dysregulation of normal transcription, you start growing more body hair, eyes change color. Where the virus integrates is a little different across host genetic backgrounds, think like ancestries; do you know SNPs?

[He clears his throat.]

Anyway, that lysogenic, passive phase is why we need the boosters, it’s laying low, immune cells don’t see anything to protect against, and it preferentially hides out in memory B cells, some lymphocytes, and that also kind of messes up a normal immune response. Which is why you have the immunoglobulin in the shot too, but that’s getting into the weeds. Because if you don’t have a way for the immune system to stop it quickly when it decides to jump out of the genome again, then, of course, you have the active phase, which… you can guess about that.

M] How successful would you say the treatments are?

J] It’s pretty good, especially given this stuff is almost the same as we were using mid-century. If you have a healthy immune system, if you’re vaccinated at least a few weeks before exposure, so you have your standard immune repertoire ready to go, and then they’re exposed – assuming the inoculum isn’t, you know, that can be pretty high sometimes – then they probably won’t “catch it,” so to speak, it’s neutralized and doesn’t integrate into the genome, so you don’t have a permanent case of it. We can also suppress symptoms with treatments for those with especially bad cases. Treatment’s kinda heavy, with the administration and the side effects; not like you’re just popping a pill under your tongue; but once it’s taken hold, there’s no, uh, no real cure.

[Jethro is quiet for a moment, taking a glance out the window as he drinks.]

J] … listen, ma’am. I’m biased. I got a personal stake in all this. I’m kind of a lab guy, sure, but sometimes I go out there and actually… you know. I’m the boots on the ground here too. And I don’t carry the big guns like the guys in Security do, no, I’m here giving out shots to kids and families. There’s communities in this country, whole towns out in the swamps or up in the hollers that are majority-infected. They live with it, they make do. And they have a chance at that, at life, because of us. Hard to quantify, of course. If you’re looking for hard numbers, I can try and find ‘em–

[He gestures to the filing cabinets.]

J] If you got a week or two.

M] We can… coordinate records later. But we’ve successfully eradicated things like… you know, smallpox. Can we eradicate things like lycanthropy?

[He gives me a strange, wary look and picks up a plastic knife from the table, oddly stirring his drink. I take a sip of mine.]

J] I’d be careful, talking like that. Lotta people don’t just think they’re sick, they- we’re talking about people. People with a condition, sure, but the minute you start talking about eradicating is when we start having camps again.

M] … again?

J] There’s rural areas in this country that the Office hasn’t been in for decades. We aren’t welcome.

M] Can I ask what happened?

[Jethro takes a deep breath.]

J] In ‘55, the United States rolled out its polio vaccine program. Of course, the Office used the infrastructure, hustle and bustle of the whole thing as a cover for our own lycanthropic treatment programs. We, and when I say “we,” I mean the Office in general of course. I wasn’t even a pup then. But a couple Office research groups, the Wagner lab, they’d done deep research into the condition, validated a few hypotheses, and they were ready to pilot the production of a vaccine. They just needed plasma. From infected hosts.

M] … I think I see.

J] Yeah. Yeah, back then infected folks were basically ignored unless they were in legal trouble. Legal personhood hadn't been extended to lycanthropes yet.

M] Legal personhood?

J] Ask Ferd about that when you get back to Virginia. Unfortunately, that plasma was taken from… people who didn’t volunteer. Inmates at first, murderers. But scaling up collection, then it came from people who stole some cows, and then people who were even just accused of things. When the Wagner people showed the shot was actually working, the Office needed a lot more to even think about rolling it out everywhere it was needed, and people weren’t really volunteering, so…

[He sighs.]

J] We shouldn’t have been surprised when a lot of communities then rejected us after that. Word travels fast, and the symbol–

[He taps the OPN crest on his badge.]

J] –became the mark of the Beast. Figuratively. It’s been decades getting to the point where we can help people, and pardon my bragging, ma’am, but it’s people like me who are the reason why we can. Part scientist, part… social worker, I guess.

[The phone rings, and Jethro slides over on his rolling chair to answer it. He seems immediately worried, and after a moment of conversation he hangs up and rubs his face.]

J] Real sorry ma’am, gonna have to cut this short. I know you had a long trip. Maybe I can meet you somewhere that ain’t so out of the way.

M] Oh. That’s okay, Jethro. Um. How’s next Saturday?

[He rolls over to a calendar on the wall. July 2021.]

J] No… no, I’ll be needing a day or two off ‘round then. For the… weather.

M] …I think I see. I’ll call you, we can finish over the phone.

J] Probably for the best, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I got an emergency downstate. Small outbreak just confirmed, got some of that social work to do.

M] Should I be worried?

[He grins, throwing his labcoat onto a chair and pulling a dirty jumpsuit out of a pile.]

J] Hell no, ma’am. We’re professionals. Ain’t gonna be any rowdy gators causing any trouble.

M] …gat–

J] I trust you’ll see yourself out, ma’am.

(Buy the poster here!)

[daddysgoty0u]

Christy had been through a lot. She was only 21, but she felt she had lived an entire life. She was 5'2, 115 pounds, blonde curly hair, with gorgeous thighs, for she was a cheerleader at St. Martin ’s University in Arkansas . She was the classic Southern Belle, complete with the accent. However, she hadn’t been using it over the past few days, because she had been depressed. As she lay up in her dorm room, Christy lamented over the coming midterms.

“I can’t believe midterms are already here. I am so unprepared.” She looked at the clock and read that it was 3 pm . She then contemplated studying for her Italian midterm, which happened to be the next day, but she fell asleep instead.

When Christy awoke, she yawned, stretched, rubbed her eyes and picked up her Italian textbook. Looking at the clock, she realized that it was 9 pm . She had slept for over four hours! “Oh my gosh”, she thought.

“I have got to study from now until the exam just to get through everything.” Whimpering, she crammed for the next 10 hours, taking small bathroom and snack breaks, only to walk into the exam room totally exhausted. She finished the exam with plenty of time left, which worried her, but, at that point, she didn’t care. The professor told the class that their grades would be posted via the internet in 3 hours, so check back. Trembling, Christy left the classroom to go find her some coffee, for she had three hours to wait.

Three hours later, Christy was back in her dorm room, logging onto her computer to check her grade. She had showered in the meantime, and had changed clothes from the plaid pajama pants and tank top into some nice pants and a blouse. As she logged onto her Italian course site, her heart sank into her stomach.

“A fucking 62??!!” she cried out.

“No way!” She slammed her chair against the table and threw herself onto her bed, exhausted and crying.

Christy assumed she cried herself to sleep, because she woke up from a doze with a start. Her clock read 12 pm . She assumed she had dozed off, but it wasn’t restful. Over the next few nights, Christy lost sleep and, even when she fell asleep from pure exhaustion, she didn’t rest. She woke up continuously tired and never any better off than when she went to sleep. She decided to go see the school doctor and see what he could prescribe her.

As Christy sat in the doctor’s office, she was shivering because she was cold. Finally, the doctor came in. She knew Doctor Mitchell well, for she had to get her birth control from him in addition to some antibiotics she had gotten a few months earlier for a bacterial infection she had come across.

“Hello, Christy, how’s life treating you?” Dr. Mitchell asked.

“Not too well, Mike,” Christy and the doctor were on a first-name basis. He gave her a funny look. She responded, “Ever since last month, I have been having trouble with sleep. I can’t fall asleep. Its like my mind works overtime and won’t let me drown anything out so I can get some rest.”

Immediately the doctor suggested a stress test, which Christy gladly accepted.

As Doctor Mitchell examined Christy’s levels of stress over a number of questions via a machine that examined her heartrate, he came to her with a diagnosis.

“Christy, you need a break.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Mike”.

“Well, you know I am a psychologist in addition to a general practice doctor, and there’s this new kind of treatment for people who are needing an escape from daily life.”

Christy was nervous, kind of glancing around the room.

“Recreational pharmaceuticals, Mike?” she laughed.

“No, actually its hypnotism. Called YSR; or Youthful Stress Relief.”

Christy looked at him and got down immediately.

“No way, Mike. I am not letting you hypnotize me into anything.”

Mike stopped her.

“But you don’t understand. It’s for your own good. And plenty of research has been done to prove that its safe.”

“I dunno Mike,” Christy groaned.

“I don’t have the time.

“Look,” he said as he took her into his arms.

“Midterms are over. I will come over tomorrow night and explain everything to you then, okay?” Reluctantly, Christy agreed.

The next night came, and Christy answered the door when Mike knocked. In his arms he had books, a tape, and some candles. Looking at him awkwardly, Christy let him in.

“Now, here’s what YSR will do for you. When was the last time you were stress free?”

“Um, when I was probably 7, because with school, comes stress.”

“Good. Okay, you are 21, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I am going to hypnotize you and regress you mentally so that less stress is placed on you mentally each day. You will have the mind of 2-year-old by the end of it. And the best part is, its completely reversible, so you can come back to regular, everyday life whenever you want.”

“Hell, at this point, if it allows me to sleep better, I don’t care what it does,” Christy replied.

“Let’s go”.

“…and when I snap my fingers, you will wake up, completely in the mind of a 7-year-old.” <SNAP!>

“WHOA!” cried out Christy. She covered her mouth at the sound of her voice, and then giggled and got up, grabbing Mike’s hands.

“Let’s go play tag!” she cried out. Mike smiled. ‘exactly as it should be,’ he thought to himself.

“But Christy, its nearly your bed-time.” You need to go to bed, okay. Go get your jammies on so you can go to bed, okay?“

“Otay”, she replied, and disappeared into her bedroom, where, not five seconds later, she returned in an oversized t-shirt with panties on underneath.

“Now, we can sit here and watch tv if you want, but you have to promise to go to sleep.” The two of them sat down on the couch and, in a matter or moments, Christy was out, sleeping soundly.

The next morning, Mike brought Christy out of her hypnotized state, asking her how she slept.

“Mike, I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, I feel awesome.”

“Well rested?”

“Very.”

“Good, then should we do this once every two weeks?” Mike asked.

“Sure, I am sure I will need it again in a couple of weeks. Want some breakfast? It’s the least I can do for you.” The two ate breakfast together, with Christy cooking eggs for Mike and herself.

Over the next few months, Christy began to call on Mike for more of the YSR. She was fixing to graduate, and time was running out for her to finish her final graduation project. Now, as time had gone on, Mike had not been charging Christy for his services. He accepted breakfast and wrote it off as a favor to a friend. However, he began to develop a crush on his patient, which is strictly forbidden by the Hippocratic Oath, which all doctors take when they are licensed. One night, he tried to move in on his crush, with some simple words.

“Christy, I have to tell you something,” he started.

“What is it Mike?”

“I…er…think I have a crush on you.”

This totally shocked Christy, who merely thought of Mike as her best friend and doctor.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Mike, but this patient-doctor relationship is as far as we need to get, okay?” Mike was infuriated, but didn’t let it show.

“That’s fine, if that’s how you feel, I just felt the need to tell you, okay? Now onto our YSR for the evening.

<SNAP> Suddenly, Christy was awake. She was aware of everything that went on around her, seeing Mike sitting on her couch with a sly grin made her worried a little bit, but she was okay. As Christy decided to stand up she looked at Mike and spoke to him. She meant to say, ‘You want some breakfast, Mike?’, but it came out as, "Ooosu bekfass daddy?” She immediately slapped her hands to her mouth as she not only couldn’t form the words correctly, but heard the babyishness of her voice. She went to stand up immediately, not likeing the sound of her voice or her incapability to talk, and immediately fell back down with a padded <THUD>. She tried again, this time clumsily putting her hands in front of her and raising her butt in the air t gain balance. All of this was involuntary, as if her mind was forcing her body to do it before she could react. She was able to get upright, only to fall back down with another <THUD>. She noticed that she was sitting a few inched higher than usual and that something was different about her clothing. Christy looked down at her waist and saw…diapers! She was wearing what felt like two thick disposable diapers and a white t-shirt that barely covered her top.

“So, how’s my baby doing this morning?” Mike asked as he got up and moved over to her.

“You talked to me like I was some kind of baby, so I figured you would get a kick out of being one for a while. Maybe you should learn not to be so rude to people…baby. At this, Christy wanted to cry, but she fought the urge and, although her face scrunched up involuntarily, she prevented herself from crying.

"Now, let’s get up, shall we?” Mike said as he bent over to help Christy up. She wobbled as she stood there, simply being held up by Mike’s single hand held in hers. She was dependant on him at this point even to stand.

“Can you stand up while I go get you some food?” He mockingly asked. Christy lazily nodded her head, and Mike left. Almost the instant that he let go and was out of her sight, again, she wanted to cry uncontrollably, but again she fought it. Again this uncontrollable urge to cry came over her, but she fought it, only to fall down on her padded behind again. Mike returned with a bottle of “formula” that he had specially mixed, just for her. As Christy thirstily drank it down, she realized that she had been hungry, and that this formula strangely satisfied her hunger. As soon as Mike saw that she had finished her bottle, he led her by the hand into her guest room, which only had a tv in it. Aside from the tv, the room was bare.

Christy tried her best, once Mike left, to stand up so she could leave and find help, but the cartoons that he had turned on grabbed her attention. She was stuck to the tv, her eyes never leaving the screen. About thirty minutes later, she felt the urge to pee. She struggled with the words, but was finally able to call out, “Daddy!” and Mike came into the room.

“Me need potty!” she blurted out, holding her legs together while squirming. All of a sudden, as soon as she finished saying ‘potty’, she felt her bladder give way and herself flood her diapers. The warm urine flushed its way around the back of her diapers and, since she was sitting down, gushed towards the front. Christy tried her hardest to clench her bladder shut, but her muscles wouldn’t work. They simply wouldn’t work. Mike smiled and left. It didn’t take long, but minutes later, about 45 to be exact, Christy felt her bowels begin to rumble. 'Oh no’ she thought, 'I am not honestly gonna shit on myself, am I?’. She tried to work herself up frantically, feeling the pressure on her bowels increase with each passing second. She worked herself up to her feet by pushing her thickly diapered butt out in the air and pushing down with her hands. As she got to her feet, she began to wobble-step towards the door, all the while, her bowels were screaming to be released. Suddenly, one of her pigeon-toed steps caught the other foot, and she fell backwards again onto her butt. All of a sudden, her bowels gave way, expelling the last two days worth of adult food, and the formula that she had eaten earlier. It felt like five minutes, but for the entirety of that five minutes, Christy filled her diapers to the point of bursting.

21 Days Later - Daily Diapers Stories

[physalian]

So, I’ve written posts utterly baffled by writers who think tackling the intimate nuances and complexities of minorities/ disabilities/ neurodivergences that they don’t have based on ego and research is just easy and no one will notice. But like… there aren’t rules for any of these demographics. All aces don’t think the same way, that’s why there’s like 20 different specific labels under the ace/demi umbrella.

But the reason I don’t think anyone can get by on research alone if this character’s quirk (for simplicity’s sake) is the whole plot and their defining feature is this: There is no ‘default’ person and the 50s-esque model citizen was a caricature. Odds are somebody isn’t “perfectly normal” just with one little outlier trait. We’re all different mixes and blends so saying “I’m gonna write a gay dude, I read this one blog by a gay dude and I’m an expert” is just. No.

This is also assuming that it’s realistic for your character to be absolutely certain about themselves and can diagnose or label themselves with medical accuracy. We’re all just vibin’, you know? Some might, and kudos to them, still wierd to so confidently write something you researched like cramming the night before a final.

Like, if you tell me you wrote an ace, and you yourself are straight or simply not ace and have no ace friends or relatives and just thought it would be cool, but your book is an intense deep-dive into asexuality, I’d bet very good money that it is not, in fact, a deep dive into asexuality, just your extrapolation based on a modicum of research and your own biases.

You’re missing out on so much personal context. I’m ace. Also, possibly aro? But also unofficially diagnosed as autistic and I can’t get a real diagnosis because reasons. And everyone is different so I don’t know where the boundary lies between “this is an autistic thing” and “this is an ace thing” and “this is an aro” thing. You, intrepid author, can’t expect to articulate that if a real person living with it can’t.

You can’t articulate it, because I can’t articulate it, and I’m probably contradicting myself all over the place in a giant game of mental Twister. Like. Romance sounds great, but I’m also fiercely independent and am too used to doing everything alone to actually picture being a healthy team and not having to carry it like groupwork in high school. That image just does not compute.

Or, romance sounds great, but I can’t love you the way you expect and odds are I’m not going to want to sleep with you… but I’ll watch your favorite TV show with you and I’ll buy you that box of candy that you probably forgot you mentioned wistfully wanting last week and I’ll make sure the fridge is stocked with your favorite snack and I’ll do the driving and I’ll text you memes and funny pictures and song recommendations to make you smile and I’ll do 100 other things desperately trying to make up for the guilt of both wanting you to find me attractive, but not actually finding you attractive, but it's actually finding the effort I make and the choices within my power that I want you to find attractive and not 'nice ass' or whatever, of wanting you around and wanting love, but not wanting sex and I guess if you cheat but it's "just sex" I have to deal because you've got "needs" and you're "normal" and I'm lucky to have you around without putting out. While simultaneously daydreaming about an imaginary person who doesn't expect those 100 other things done from guilt, but I got bills to pay and can't be selfish and, well, that person doesn't exist.

But sure, your ace is gutwrechingly realistic because they're an android or an alien and are incapable of a sex drive anyway and not human because, what? All humans have a sex drive, you donut. You just haven't met the right person yet.

No one is just one thing in isolation and otherwise “perfectly normal”. The arrogance and naivety it takes from so many writers who think this can’t be shocked when the negative feedback comes in. Write inclusively. Do not write the deeply personal struggles of a life you did not live, that someone reading your book can look at and think, wow, I can’t believe how wrong they got it. Do I expect to read a perfect copy of myself in someone else's ace charcater? No. Every ace is different, but there's the "ace" flag for a reason.

[successblueprints]

So, I woke up late again. My 50 alarms went off, but instead of jumping out of bed, I hit snooze too many times. Now, the day feels ruined before it even starts. I have so much to do, but the more I think about it, the less motivated I feel. My focus is gone, and instead of being productive, I’m scrolling through social media or just zoning out. It’s like waking up late sets the tone for the whole day. And it turns out, it actually does—there’s science behind it.

Why Does This Happen?

According to research, when you wake up late, your body’s internal clock, or circadian rhythm, gets out of sync. This is called delayed sleep-wake phase disorder, and it affects everything from your focus to your mood. Waking up later than planned disrupts your routine, messes with your discipline, and makes it harder to concentrate, leading to less productive days overall.

How Can You Fix It?

If you want to stop waking up late and regain control over your day, here are a few tips:

1. Set a Consistent Sleep Routine: Going to bed and waking up at the same time every day, even on weekends, helps stabilize your internal clock.

2. Limit Screen Time Before Bed: Blue light from your phone or computer can mess with melatonin production, which is the hormone that helps you fall asleep

3. Use Morning Light Exposure: Getting sunlight in the morning helps reset your internal clock and makes it easier to wake up on time.

4. Make Snoozing Harder: Place your phone or tablet across the room, preferably with the loudest, most cringe-worthy alarm you can find. I like closing my tablet case and putting it away, so when it goes off, I’m embarrassed enough to get up and turn it off.

But What If You Still Wake Up Late?

Even if you sleep in, the day isn’t completely ruined. Here’s how you can still turn things around:

1. Set a 5-Minute Timer: Start by committing to just 5 minutes of work on any task. You’ll see that once you get started, it’s not as bad as you thought. Afterward, take a short breather and give yourself some positive talk—then do another 5 minutes.

2. Prioritize Your Tasks: Focus on one or two important things for the day. This way, even if you’re behind, you’re still making progress on what matters most.

3. Forgive Yourself: Don’t dwell on the fact that you woke up late. Instead, accept it and shift your focus to what you can still do with the rest of the day.

4. Time Block: Organize your tasks into chunks of time. For example, dedicate 30 minutes to one task and then take a short break. This gives structure to the rest of your day, even if it started late.

What If You Still Can’t Get Yourself to Do It?

When you wake up late, it's like your inner child is throwing a tantrum, refusing to focus. But you’ve got to turn that tantrum off, remind yourself that the day isn’t over, and get to work. You don’t have time to argue with distractions—you’ve got things to achieve.

Breaking Tasks Down Even Smaller: Instead of thinking about the entire task, just focus on the very first step.

Starting with Something Easy: Sometimes tackling the easiest thing first can create momentum.

Doing Something Active: Go for a walk or stretch to reset your mind before trying again.

Note from me: It’s a bit of a bittersweet moment today. Maybe I barely studied and it freaked me out, but instead of getting stuck in that panic, it pushed me to dig deeper, do the research, and come up with solutions to help not just myself, but other people dealing with the same struggles. So, even if today didn’t go as planned, it inspired something bigger—a better plan for the future, and hopefully, a little help for anyone else going through the same thing. ^-^

[dewypeach]

For the kiss ask game. This is a strange one, but QPR Rushu/Szeth and number 13

I loooove the idea of QPR Rushu/Szeth!! I'm sorry, I tried to do the prompt you picked and ended up going in a completely different direction... It's still them though!

QPR Rushu/Szeth, modern AU, rated Teen, 730 words

Rushu had recently introduced Szeth to the concept of parallel play, and he found it very much to his liking. Right now, he was sitting cross-legged on the floor in Rushu’s room, playing Breath of The Wild on his Nintendo Switch. Rushu sat at her desk, typing away on her computer. He found the sound of her typing to be oddly soothing.

“Hey, can you help me out with something?” Rushu asked suddenly.

Szeth paused the game and looked up at her. “Yes?”

“It’s for my Accountability of Virtue fic,” she explained.

“The one where Brightlord Sterling and Brightlord Vadam are lovers?” Szeth asked. He hadn’t read the novel, but he’d listened patiently to Rushu’s numerous rants, and had done his best to memorize the details so that he could engage her in conversation. 

“That’s the one,” Rushu confirmed. “I’m trying to write their first kiss now, and I can’t help but feel inadequate. Oh, I’ve read countless kiss scenes, so you can say I’ve got my sources down. But I’ve never actually kissed anyone, so I don’t know which of the depictions is most accurate. I don’t think I can consider my research thorough enough, this way.” Rushu swiveled around in her chair to face him, her eyes expectant. “So, would you be down to make out?”

Szeth blinked, surprised. Rushu and him had never done anything like that, and neither had expressed any interest. But while it didn’t sound especially appealing, it wasn’t repulsive, either. And, well, Rushu had asked him for help, and Szeth really wanted to please her. “Alright,” he said hesitantly. “We can try.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, neither making a move. 

“Um, should I get up…?” Szeth asked. “Or do you want to come here?”

“I’ll join you,” Rushu said quickly. She settled down on the floor in front of Szeth, her knees touching his own. Then there was another moment of awkward silence.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Rushu said.   

They both leaned in at the same time, and their faces collided in a decidedly unsuccessful manner, noses squishing together. It took them several tries to get the angle right, then their mouths found each other. At first, it was just lips on lips, which was fine. But then it got wet, and slippery, and all in all reminded Szeth of the seafood he used to eat back at home. 

They pulled apart after mere seconds, with matching grimaces on their faces. Szeth wiped at his mouth. “That was…”

“Bad,” Rushu agreed.

“Let’s try again,” Szeth said. He’d been given a task, and he intended to see it performed well. 

They tried again. It was somehow even worse this time, maybe because Szeth knew what to expect.

“Um, why is this happening?” Rushu said, frustrated. “People are supposedly really into this. I feel like that’s false advertising.” She scratched her head. “Or maybe we’re just not doing it right?”

“I’m sorry,” Szeth said. “I don’t have any experience in this, either. I’m probably not doing it very well.”

“Oh, stop that,” Rushu told him, rolling her eyes. “It’s not your fault. This is just not for us, probably.”

Szeth mulled it over, then nodded. “...Yeah. I think you’re right.”

Rushu sighed, turning back to her computer. “I guess I’ll just have to rely on other authors’ descriptions for my inspiration.”

Szeth started to pick up his Switch, then paused, an idea occurring to him. “Wait, what if Sterling and Vadam don’t kiss?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder with a frown. “But I’ve been building up to this scene for 4 chapters!”

“I know,” Szeth said. “But what if they don’t want to kiss? What if they’re… like us?" He grew excited as he spoke. "Wouldn't it be nice for people out there to have this sort of representation?”

He could see the gears turning in Rushu’s head, then all at once her eyes lit up. “Szeth, you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

“Yes!” Rushu beamed. “Queerplatonic Vadam/Sterling is such a good idea! Honestly, it makes their relationship so much more interesting. I feel like Vadam is so aroace-coded anyway, with how uninterested he was in being intimate with Wema in the canon… Hmmm… Sterling might expect a kiss, but it will be interesting to see them finding a compromise...” The sound of Rushu’s typing resumed at full speed.

Szeth smiled. “I’m glad I could help,” he said.

Rushu didn’t react. She was already somewhere in a far-off world.

[padfootagain]

Something Good (XV)

Chapter 15 : Wake-Up Call

Hello! Here is a new chapter for my Ben Barnes series!

The menu for today’s chapter : Liam being jealous, an interesting dream…

Hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings: A heated scene at the end!! No actual smut but heavy make-out. Slow burn, professor AU.

Summary: Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already is. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can’t get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially…

Word Count: 3113

Masterlist for the series – Ben Barnes’ Masterlist – Main Masterlist

November flew by in a blur of meetings, classes, research, and midnight calls with Ben.

It vanished under the piles of laundry, the meals prepared for Sally, the new paintings from your daughter hung on the fridge, the afternoons spent walking with Ben.

It faded into the cold weather, the first Christmas decorations, the efforts of your ex-husband, the laughter from the theatre club, the lunches shared with Ben.

You had not acted on your feelings for him, and he had not acted on his feelings for you. Both of you seemed to be in a quiet phase of acceptance, of getting-used-to.

But the more you looked at him, the more you loved him.

And the more he talked with you, the more he loved you.

Sally was used to Ben’s presence already, and you were surprised by it. She longed for habits, you knew she did, because of the divorce, because of her two homes, but also because her father had failed the two of you for a while. She was used to being promised things she wouldn’t get from him. And you hated to admit it, but you knew it hurt her more than Liam could realize.

But she was getting used to the habit of seeing Ben on Sunday whenever she stayed with you. She was used to hear his name spoken in your home, to ask about him herself, to call him on the phone.

You would have been lying had you pretended that it didn’t worry you, because it did. She was getting attached to someone, someone you had grown close to only recently, someone who could leave…

Perhaps you were a little naïve, a little too optimistic, as you simply pushed your doubts away. Perhaps you were running away a little, as you simply chose to believe in him. But it felt too good, to spend time with Ben and see Sally grinning at him.

Sally had told her father about Ben, of course, and at first Liam didn’t seem to pay the man any attention. Maybe because he didn’t think you could love someone else as much as you had once loved him. Maybe because he thought you still loved him just the same. Maybe because he didn’t pay enough attention to what his daughter said in general.

So, weeks flew by and he ignored this Ben you and Sally mentioned every once in a while. Until that Sunday afternoon he spent with his daughter.

First days of December, and Sally was painting in the living room while Liam worked on his laptop by her side, a safe distance between them to avoid paint being splashed all over his expensive computer.

He looked up when she called him.

“Daddy! Look! I’ve finished another one!”

She smiled with her toothiest grin, showing him some red and purple flowers.

“Good job, darling!” her father gave her a proud smile. “You’re very good at painting!”

“Thanks, daddy!”

“Who is this one for? For me? For mummy? Or for granny, perhaps?”

“It’s for Ben!”

Liam frowned hard.

“Ben? You mean… mummy’s colleague?”

Sally nodded enthusiastically, her smile unfaltering.

“He’s going to eat dinner with us tonight! So, I’m making him a gift!”

“He’s eating with you?”

Again, Sally nodded.

“And… you’re okay with that, honey?”

But Sally’s smile widened even more, if that was even possible.

“I like Ben a lot! He’s my friend!”

“Is he?”

“Yes! We went to the park, and to the zoo, and we went to see the Lion King, and we’ve played together and he painted with me and mummy last Sunday!”

“Did he?”

And Liam cursed himself because he should have guessed. He should have paid attention, and he should have been more careful.

He let Sally keep on painting while he blankly stared at his screen. The long lines of numbers were still displayed across the pixels, but he couldn’t see any of them. Instead, his mind was filled with questions.

Who was this Ben to you? Why didn’t you tell Liam about him before?

Could he… could he be a threat? For Sally? For you? For Liam?

Could you… Could you be falling for someone else?

But he shook his head. No, none of this made sense. Liam and you were soulmates. He was certain of it. And he would conquer your heart again, he had no doubt that you still loved him, you had merely buried your feelings deep into your heart, that was all. But he was making efforts, and he would make more of those. And you would come back to him.

When it was time for Sally to go back to your flat, that all her stuff had been packed, Liam decided that he would talk about this… Ben with you. For sure he had a say in this. An adult entering his daughter’s life was no minor detail, and he needed to make sure that he was a good man, that he had good intensions, that he wouldn’t hurt any of his girls.

Sally ran to you as you opened the door, and you picked her up, holding her close.

“How is my little angel today?” you asked in a tender voice.

“Daddy and I did some painting! I have one for you!”

“Oh! Thank you so much! Did you have fun with daddy?”

“Yes!”

You smiled up at Liam as he dropped Sally’s bags in your hallway.

“Anything to report?” you asked him, but he shook his head with a reassuring smile.

“Everything went fine. We went to the park on Saturday, went to buy some groceries, and she spent most of her Sunday painting and looking at books.”

“Did you read, angel?” you asked your daughter, who nodded proudly.

“I only asked daddy four times because the words were too long!”

“That’s amazing, baby!”

You gave your daughter a big smooch on the cheek, making her laugh.

But Liam was not leaving, as he usually did, and you frowned at the sight.

“Is everything alright?” you asked him, and he nodded, but turned towards Sally anyway.

“Darling, why don’t you go play for a little while? Mummy and daddy need to talk about something.”

She nodded, although she was reluctant to let go of you just yet. But you gave her a tender smile.

“It won’t be long, angel. After that, we’ll unpack all your stuff, and get ready for dinner, okay?”

Sally nodded again, but more enthusiastically this time, and as you put her down on the ground again and helped her out of her wintery coat, she sprinted across the flat towards her bedroom.

You turned to your ex-husband, but you didn’t invite him inside your home beyond the hallway where the two of you still stood, so he walked to the living room without asking for your permission and took a seat around the table there, taking off his warm coat and scarf.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your tone worried now.

“Nothing, I just want us to talk about something. Or rather… someone.”

“Who?”

You weren’t sure what to do with the thought that popped into your mind.

Has Liam found someone else?

He tapped on the table, fingertips making a rhythmic yet annoying sound. Which was a bad sign. He only did it when he was angry, but trying to remain calm.

“Sally told me about this… Ben. Who is he?”

You sat down as well, your glance cautious as it settled upon Liam’s.

“He’s a friend,” you merely answered.

“Really?”

“Yes. From work. We’re working on the theatre club together, you remember that?”

Slowly, Liam nodded, clenching his jaw.

“I see… and… when did this… Ben become a friend of Sally’s too?”

You couldn’t refrain a smile at Liam’s words. Sally considered Ben a friend? Good, it was good…

And Liam hated this expression on your face now…

“We’ve spent quite a lot of time together since we’ve come back from London,” you explained. “And he’s great with Sally.”

“Is he?”

Liam’s tone was blatantly aggressive now, and you frowned at the sound.

“Why are you angry? He’s a good friend of mine, and Sally likes him, and he likes Sally.”

“Don’t you think you should have told me about him before introducing him to our daughter?”

And perhaps he was right, for a part. But you didn’t like his tone; you could feel your own blood starting boiling in your veins.

“Well, I didn’t think it was necessary. You didn’t warn me about letting your secretary watch over our daughter, did you?”

He rolled his eyes, which properly pissed you off this time.

“Really? You’re hitting low.”

“You’ve set the bar low.”

“I just want to make sure that he’s a nice guy. That he is trustworthy. That he won’t hurt Sally, or you, by the way. I’m also worried about you.”

“There’s no need to be worried about me. I know what I’m doing. Ben is amazing, he’s a dear friend of mine, and he’s amazing with our daughter. Don’t you trust my judgement on that?”

“I do…”

“But?”

“But how can you be so sure? I had never heard about this guy before September, and now, I’m learning through Sally that he’s taken the two of you to the zoo, and that he’s coming tonight for dinner!”

“We weren’t close before September,” you explained. “But we are now.”

“How close?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Because you recognized the fire that burnt in his eyes now, and you didn’t like it at all. You were about to answer when the doorbell rang.

“IT’S BEN!” Sally cried, sprinting from her bedroom to the hallway.

“Don’t open the door, Sally!” you admonished.

You hurried in the corridor, and found your daughter jumping up and down in excitement, but waiting before the door, obeying your order.

You opened the door, to find a grinning Ben on your doorstep.

And all traces of anger vanished from your heart at the sight of Ben’s dark coat, of his gigantic woollen scarf, of his dishevelled hair and glimmering eyes.

“BEN!”

Sally rushed to him and he chuckled as he picked her up in his arm.

“Hello, Sally! How is my favourite meerkat doing today?”

“Great! I’ve made you a painting!”

“Another one? For me?!”

“Yes!”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

He put Sally back down so she could hurry down the hall again, and you let him step inside.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he grinned, his voice low and so warm…

“Evening!”

“How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

“Perfect! I brought dinner, as promised!” he added, showing you the bag of Indian food in his hand. “And the movie.”

You laughed at that.

“Can’t believe I have to educate you this way,” he went on, teasing to make you laugh, and succeeding with ease.

You had almost forgotten Liam still being there, but you were quickly reminded as you heard the scraping of a chair against the floor.

Ben was still taking off his coat when Liam appeared.

“Hmm… Ben,” you called, making him look at you again, and he frowned at the sight of the man before him. “This is Liam. My ex-husband. Liam, this is Ben.”

Ben didn’t relax when he forced a smile to his lips. He offered Liam his open hand anyway.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you.”

Liam’s handshake was way too strong, it was painful, actually. But Ben didn’t let it show. He reciprocated the gesture with the same strength instead.

And Liam was ready to chop this man’s head off…

“Nice to meet you too, Ben.”

You frowned as your ex insisted weirdly on the name, but you decided to ignore it.

“We can continue this conversation later, Liam,” you spoke in a wary tone.

“On the contrary! We were talking about you, Ben.”

“Me?” Ben raised a surprised eyebrow.

“And the fact that I believe I have a right to know who enters my daughter’s life.”

“Of course… Well, what do you want to know?”

“Your intentions would be a good start.”

“Liam…” you warned him, but Ben answered with a shrug.

“I don’t have any, really.”

“No?”

“I’m a friend of Y/N’s. And I enjoy spending time with Sally too.”

Liam was about to speak again when Sally reappeared, handing Ben her gift.

“It’s for you!”

Ben’s frown instantly melted into a grin.

“Thank you so much, Sally!”

He accepted the gift, complimented the girl, and he chuckled as she opened her arms wide, her small hands opening and closing in grabbing gestures, asking to be picked up. He complied without a second thought.

“Did you buy Indian food? You promised you would!” Sally asked, and Ben let out a bright laugh.

“I did! Of course, I did!”

“YEEES!”

You were smiling so fondly at the two of them, Liam recognized something in your eyes, something… that used to be aimed at him, and solely at him…

And he didn’t fail to notice the way Ben’s gaze found yours with ease, how it softened, how his smile widened and grew more tender.

Liam’s head was spinning.

He cleared his throat, and all turned to him again.

“I’d love to eat some curry, too!” he spoke, but you glowered at him, while Ben frowned hard.

“Liam… I swear, don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually…”

“You do.”

You heaved a tired sigh.

“Look, we’ll talk about it properly, if you want. But not now. Now is not the time.”

“Really? Because I reckon that it is the right time, actually, as a stranger is about to spend the evening with my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” you corrected him. “And Ben is not a stranger at all, not to me. Trust me…”

“I don’t want him near my daughter.”

He spoke the last sentence while staring at Ben, as if he was a judge revealing his final verdict, his latest conviction.

Slowly, Ben nodded.

“Very well.”

Slowly, he put Sally back on the ground, and moved to grab his coat.

Because, after all, Liam was Sally’s father. And Ben had no right to go against his decision. And perhaps he was right, and this was a bad idea…

But when Sally started crying, all three adults froze.

“Where is Ben going?” the girl sobbed.

Ben’s heart cracked, bled, so much so that he felt tears form in his own eyes.

Where was he going, indeed? If Liam didn’t want him to see Sally anymore, what would he do? Would he lose you already? So soon…?

“Nowhere, angel,” you lifted your daughter in your arms. “Ben isn’t going anywhere. Daddy is just being silly.”

“I’m not…”

“Liam!”

You rarely snapped at people, and your ex was startled by your tone. You were properly angry now, he could see it written all over your features. The same anger he stared at for months when the two of you separated, when you signed for a divorce, when he failed you again and again. He had been better these past few weeks, he was getting used to see your smile once more, instead of your fury.

He heaved a sigh.

“Don’t worry, darling. Mummy’s right, I’m just being silly. Have a nice evening you three.”

Before you could speak another word, he was picking up his coat and walking out of the flat.

He still heard the words that followed though, and they broke his heart…

“I don’t want to be the cause for any trouble.”

“You’re not, Ben. He’s just being an idiot.”

“Are you sure? Do you really want me to stay?”

“Yes. Yes, Ben, I want you to stay.”

That night, you were dreaming.

You knew, even if you were lost in deep slumber, that none of this was real. It couldn’t be.

The images were vivid though, unbearably so. It was almost too much. And yet, even if this was nothing but a feeble dream, you hoped it would never stop.

Because in your dream, you were not alone. Ben was there. Ben was kissing you, actually.

As a matter of fact, he was doing much more than kissing you. His hands were everywhere: steady, strong, long fingers brushing against your skin and tugging at your clothes to get access to the burning flesh under them. It turned your whole body on fire, as if blood had been replaced by raging flames, and your heart was beating so loudly, it echoed in your ears, batted your eardrums, crashed against your ribs.

A rhythmic noise, tu-dum tu-dum tu-dum, frantic and longing for more at the same time. It wasn’t loud enough to hide your shaky breathing though, or the sound of Ben’s shallow breaths, or the soft moans he let out, or the wet sounds left by his lips all over your neck…

When he pulled on your shirt to take it off, you let him. When his breath caught in his throat, you heard him. When his eyes darkened, you held his hungry stare. And when he dove right back for a passionate kiss, you kissed him with the same strength.

And you didn’t want it to end… You wanted to keep his hands on your ribs, his fingers running up your spine making your back arch into his chest, his lips on yours, his beard under your palm and his pounding heart under the pads of your fingers.

But then, an alarm rang. Loud and unforgiving. And when Ben looked at you again, eyes completely black, hair dishevelled, glasses missing, lips redder than usual, you knew he was going to slip away, out of reach.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

And Ben’s dark eyes were replaced by another kind of shadows. Instead of his eyes, you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your bedroom.

You hit the snooze button of your alarm clock, heaved a frustrated sigh, rubbed the remnants of sleep out of your eyes.

Ben was gone. He was just a passing dream…

Still, even as a dream, he had left your breath shallow and your skin too warm…

The alarm rang again. You needed to get up, get Sally ready, prepare breakfast, get her to school, head to work…

A smile formed on your lips at the thought of seeing Ben there, in his office. Just a quick hello, maybe a coffee. Then lunch. Then another coffee after his classes of the afternoon. A walk back to your cars. A struggle to part…

You pushed the covers away, turned off the alarm clock, got up. So many things to do, so early in the morning.

But first… you needed a cold, very cold shower…

********************************

Taglist : @sergeantbuckybarnes @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @idek-what-to-put @kpicard @rhapsodyonthethames

[trigunwritings]

*pulls up a chair and sits down at your plant reader post* I am here for this and wanna hear more of your idea! If I had to pick favorites from the current post, it'd be the courtship and terrforming idea. Last Stampede ep def implies that independents have their own abilities, so a terrforming one would be cool as heck. Also, I just love alien courtship tropes.

Thank you!! I’m absolutely feral about exploring and developing fictional species, since it’s a ton of fun to throw ideas at the wall to see what makes sense—especially when it comes to romantic behaviors and such :3c Sci-fi is my preferred flavor of worldbuilding after all, so the idea of Stampede plants being explicitly non-human aliens offers up so much potential that I just can’t leave it be 👀

-

I prefer to think that plants, like humans, are fully capable of evolving to better suit their environment—perhaps even faster or more drastically than what most people would expect from them. This could easily account for the birth of Vash and Knives, as it would make sense to develop an appearance that allowed them to better blend in with humans; this could be interpreted from the perspective of prey trying to escape the attention of a predator, or perhaps even the opposite: a predator trying to hide among its unassuming prey.

Given the lacking records of non-independent plants becoming aggressive to the humans who rely upon them, most people tend to believe the former opinion, though there has never been any hard evidence either way. A majority of people—even prior to the great crash—don’t even believe plants to be sentient creatures.

Some people theorize that plants were not truly created, but instead originate from a parent alien species that humans had come into contact many generations prior to the SEEDs ships departing earth. Other people even think that plants aren’t from our dimension at all, which could explain why they are capable of creating all manner of organic material from basic forms of energy in a way that seems to defy the laws of physics. The truth has long been forgotten regardless, lost in dead memories or destroyed computers when the ships crashed upon Noman’s Land, and most people don’t have the time or energy to research such useless information.

Nonetheless, these details may point to plants trying to evolve past the tools they were originally created to be, perhaps if only to communicate with humans themselves; its hard to tell if the relationship is truly symbiotic or not, especially when plants themselves are so alien that few people have actually never seen one’s face before. Do they want to protect the people whom rely upon them for their livelihoods? Do they yearn for freedom from the boundaries of their glass enclosures? …Could they even survive the world beyond it?

This in the end leads me to an interesting concept; a non-independent plant metamorphosing into a form that appears to be human, but only on the surface. Like a chrysalis, it is simply to protect them from the harsh world beyond their cage—the only environment they were ever designed to thrive in. Imagine this plant having to learn how to be human, but also how to hide their abilities from those who might try to use them like a tool—perhaps this plant has inadvertently evolved into something incredibly powerful, capable of creating not only water and food, but terraforming swaths of the desert landscape.

Perhaps this plant is the next step in the natural progression of their species, which itself has somehow decided that the next step is not simply surviving on their new host planet, but transforming it into a truly habitable planet according to what very well may be written in their DNA.

And that is exactly what I picture the reader being; a plant that is somehow able to take a human form (much to their confusion and fear, its like suddenly being born into conciousness) and escape the confines of their glass bubble, all while trying to make sense of the powers they hold and desperately trying to find others like them in the hopes that they aren’t alone.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the Word

Thanks @sleepywriter00 for the tag!

Rules: find the given words in your WIP(s), then tag others with new words

My words: psycho, pranked, soil, grave

Your words: new, clean, decide, system

Tagging with zero pressure @theeccentricraven @mysticstarlightduck @little-peril-stories @blind-the-winds @buffythevampirelover @mk-writes-stuff @eccaiia @cowboybrunch @addicted2coke-theothercoke @gottestod-writes @chauceryfairytales @frostedlemonwriter @talesofsorrowandofruin @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @theprissythumbelina or anyone else who wants to hop on

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @fairy-tales-of-yesterday per usual you can hop on

Keep reading for:

Liam and Maddie discuss the science of shapeshifting

George X Liam is a thing now

Beau creates a beanstalk

Noelle's research finds an article

Psycho Insane (closest synonym) - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Maddie POV)

“Thanks for researching all of this,” I said. “I mean, not being an animal morphian, you didn’t have to.” Liam leaned against the wall. “I always wanted to be an animal morphian. When I realized I got to train one, I just did a bunch of research. To both benefit your learning and just to learn a few things myself. Shapeshifting is just fascinating in general. Like, you can change your mass, like, that shouldn’t be a thing! But it is, and that’s, like, insane.” “Wow,” I breathed. “So what happens to the mass that you lose?” “No idea,” said Liam, smiling. “What if we took the mass from something?” I asked. “Great, but where would that something come from?” “I dunno,” I said. “Matter can’t be created or destroyed. We’ve learned that in science class.” “You’d be right,” said Liam. “But we’re in another dimension.” “So you’re saying matter can be created or destroyed in this dimension?” “Perhaps,” said Liam, pressing his hands together in deep thought. “But what if instead we’re borrowing mass from another pocket dimension? Like, there’s a pocket universe of just mass, and we put our mass there if we’re lessening our mass, or borrowing mass from there if we increase our mass?” “Hm,” I said. “That could work, but isn’t it complicated?” “Who knows?” said Liam. “We’re in another dimension. Anything is possible. The rules of this universe are different than the rules of Ceteri.” “That’s cool.” “Glad you agree, kiddo.”

Actually, matter can be created or destroyed but only with an anti-matter particle :)

Pranked Trick (closest synonym...) - from The Secret Portal Part One

Maddie gave Kelsey a small punch in the arm. She looked past Kelsey’s shoulder. “Hey, Liam, what are you dressed as?” Liam, who was talking with George, wore a black full-piece covering his whole body with glow sticks along his arms, legs, and torso. Upon Maddie’s query, he put a hood over his head, then zipped it shut over his face, glow sticks forming a circle. “A stick figure.” Maddie burst out laughing. Kelsey smirked, clapping slowly. “You win. You win.” Unzipping the hood, Liam smiled at George. “See? This is hilarious. It’s simple, but it’s super clever. I barely put any more effort than Gabe, yet everyone I’ve encountered says this is the best costume here. That’s the trick of Halloween. You either need to go all out or you need to be very, very clever about what you decide to be and what materials you use.” George, now eating what Ceters called a “cupcake,” nodded, very entertained by his new friend. While George loved sharing all of his speedster-induced hours research, Liam always managed to make a good argument out of seemingly everything. It was one of the fascinating things about him. He was glad Liam approached him working on one of the computers about a month ago, otherwise George wasn't sure he would’ve been able to work up to potential rejection from the only boy his age he’d interacted with in a decade.

Soil - from School of the Legends Year One

Beau widened his stance, holding his arm out, palm aimed at where he’d planted the beans. Jack glanced at Jill, both sharing a confused expression. Jack looked at his cousin. “Beau, what are we supposed to see?” “Just watch the soil,” Beau said, his brow clenching together. Jack obeyed, looking at where the beans were. A sprout suddenly poked its head above the ground. Jack’s eyebrows rose, and a glance at his sister told him she had the same reaction. The sprout began growing, now at Jack’s knee. “Beau, you’re...you’re gifted.” Beau’s smile stretched across his face. “Yeah, isn’t it amazing?” He glanced at Jack, his eyes shining. The sprout now shot up faster, and Beau flicked his eyes back to the stalk. “Merde,” he muttered as he tried to regain his concentration. He, Jack, and Jill grunted as the stalk broke the ground at such a force they were knocked to their feet. Beau scrambled up as fast as he could, holding his palms out toward the beanstalk. It slowed first, then stopped. Jack tilted his head back, squinting to see the top of the beanstalk--which didn’t help. “O...kay…,” Jill soon said, breaking the silence. “That just happened.” “What are we going to do with this?” Jack asked, now standing. “There’s now a giant beanstalk in the middle of the yard! How are we going to explain to Da?” “You won’t need to.” Jack whirled around to see his dad leaning against a post on the porch. “I saw the whole thing.” “I’m sorry, Oncle Erskine.” “Don’t be,” he said. “D’ya know how much that would sell for?” He laughed.

Grave - from The Secret Portal Part Two (article Noelle is reading)

One thing I must make clear is that I AM Inutilia. I did not quit because I no longer believe in equality for my people. Quite the opposite. I still am a firm believer that we should get as much equal rights as those with powers. However, Raissa Kamanzi is NOT the way to do it. Ms. Kamanzi is obsessed with power. She does not truly believe in the equal rights of Inutilia, rather the dominance. She wants to oppress the system just as much as the old one oppressed us. A taste of their own medicine, she would say. This is not the answer. All Raissa has given us is a harder time to be accepted by society around us. It gave an excuse for bigots to become even louder, people who considered themselves neutral to become bigoted. It gave those in power a reason to persecute us from a genetic standpoint. We lost access to the portal last year because of her. We can no longer be with Ceters, in a world where WE are the norm. One thing I will say about Raissa is that she is a complicated woman with many heavy burdens and regrets. She holds tight to her morals, and will never cross a line that others would. However, that does not make her morals right. That does not make her policies right. I did not join the Refugae initially because I wanted control of the world. I did not join so others would suffer just so I would not. I joined because I was sick of the lynching, the riots, the massacres, the genetic engineering to attempt to erase the gene. I was sick of the suffering. But I see Raissa’s tactics are only going to deflect the suffering from herself to others. That it is causing people to flee to Ceteri, and those who cannot cross the portal to stay, suffering. Raissa is digging the grave of her own people. The arrival of the Aequales was the first sign. I do not believe the Aequales is the savior we need, for many other reasons, but its preaching of equality and peace is dragging more and more people away from equality. They can still hate us, but if they support Atsila McLain, suddenly, they can wipe their hands clean of their bigotry. Inutilia are still suffering under Raissa, and we have no escape. I ask you to support social reforms and to engage in political action. We must stop this violence. We must in order to survive. For all Inutilia. For all Alii.

I wrote two articles in this chapter - one of someone who worked with Atsila but left, the other who worked with Raissa but left. I really ended up being proud of the articles themselves even though I'm revising Noelle's research purposes later.

It is funny. She's like "hm maybe other perspectives would be nice to read about to form an opinion that seems logical" but then she does that and is like "nevermind these are both biased what a waste of time"

[iamthekaijuking]

Gigabash character overview: Thundatross

A genre often in close association with the kaiju genre is the mech genre, and indeed it’s common for a kaiju setting to have at least one titan hunting mech. Passion Republic Games felt the same when making Gigabash, and so they made Thundatross!

Thundatross is the tank of the roster, being super slow but hitting hard and most of his attacks have superarmor. He also has one move to close distance and a long range move. Skilled Thundatross players are the bane of my existence.

Design

Thundatross takes pretty heavy inspiration from mecha anime, so things like Getter Robo, Megazord, Big O and whatnot.

The primary reference is apparently Mazinger Z.

Unfortunately I can’t really find any concept art of Thundatross, just these snippets from their “behind the scenes” video.

As a personal aside, the only thing I really dislike about the design is the simple ball joints. Over six months of playing nothing but Armored Core 6 has spoiled me. But aside from that I’m a huge fan of Thundatross’s design.

Lore

Thundatross is the long term project of OtamaTEC, a megacorperation that began as a start up in 1991 by scientific genius and entrepreneur Dr. Otama Kazuo and later aided by Dr. Reiner (mentioned in Pipijuras’s overview) who eventually became second in command. The company was founded on the idea of the Gigatron Reactor I mentioned in Woolley’s overview, and their main goal is Giga Energy research and anti-kaiju defense, which resulted in many deals with the Global Titan Defense Initiative, primarily in Titan Containment Energy Barriers. The same barriers in the first level of Gorogong’s story! Despite this, a big source of the company’s income actually comes from the numerous high quality household electronics and computer parts they manufacture.

Their various findings on Giga Energy are covered in Thundatross’s profile documents, which also show that the project that created Thundatross is called the Tactical Reactor-Operated Security System.

Giga Energy can be free flowing; just hanging around in the air. But it can also come in a solid form, or at least be contained in a solid object: Giga Crystals. Giga Crystals are so densely packed with mass and energy that one that can fit in the palm of your hand can weigh up to 30 pounds and provide more energy than a full sized nuclear reactor. Giga Energy can also alter the atomic bonds and chemical structures of objects, and has very noticeable effects on organic life. A half eaten pear regrew some of its eaten parts and grew in size after a few hours of exposure to a Giga Crystal, but this seems to not be consistent as this doesn’t happen to any humans. It’s almost like Giga Energy is selective. It’s also hypothesized that the kaiju in Gigabash’s world use this process to transform into an S-class.

At some point during this time Dr. Otama Kazuo would get married to a woman named Megumi, and almost 2 decades after would have a kid: a boy named Yuuki. But by 2013 it seems like Megumi died somehow.

As Dr. Reiner helped with project T.R.O.S.S. things went along exceptionally well, and the mech outperformed initial expectations. Its system power output alone outperformed initial estimates by 543.85%, which just goes to show how powerful Giga Energy can be. However, as this project neared fruition, Kazuo began to grow worried. He was essentially creating a superweapon, and if someone were to use it for evil then the results could be disastrous. Another concern was Dr. Reiner, who was hellbent on destroying all kaiju and wanted to sell the blueprints to the GTDI even though they were too corrupt to use them responsibly.

Ultimately Kazuo installed an AI and security and identification system to the mech, and after troubling himself for years on how to find a pilot who could use Thundatross responsibly, he ultimately decided that he and any descendants should be the ones to pilot the machine, and so the mech will not start unless he or a descent is in the cockpit. He also had Yuuki name the mech Thundatross as a bit of family bonding. He really does try to be a good dad.

Dr. Otama Kazuo would never get to pilot Thundatross however. In the beginning of Thundatross’s story mode, which begins in the hell year of 2020, right after the completion of Thundatross, Rohanna would attack the Kimura district. The place of OtamaTEC HQ. Falling debris would fall onto Kazuo and paralyze him from the waist down, so Yuuki ended up taking the mantle. And for an entire year afterward this would actually go quite well! Yuuki is a good kid, if a bit impatient at times, so he was perfectly happy to lend a helping hand.

Without Kazuo to run the company, Dr. Reiner took charge, and he took advantage of this. He secretly constructed a second Thundatross and kept the second half of Pipijuras’s teleporter. When Yuuki retrieves Gorogong’s giant Giga Crystal that OtamaTEC commissioned the GTDI to retrieve with the help of Gigaman (who I’ll eventually cover), he hooks it up to the teleporter and opens up a portal to the hollow earth. He then gets into his “Unit 02” and goes through. However, Dr. Reiner wasn’t able to build his mech without Kazuo’s security system, so to get around this he basically kidnaps Yuuki’s dad and straps him into the cockpit.

The rest of the story mode is Yuuki and Gigaman finding a way into the hollow earth to find Reiner, stop him, and rescue Kazuo. They confront him at the Giga Core where he tells him that he plans to use both mechs to drain the Giga Core of its Giga Energy and starve all kaiju on the planet, which Gigaman points out would destabilize it and potentially blow up the planet. Dr. Reiner however, is so hellbent on kaiju elimination that he doesn’t care if he’d destroy the world, and to stop him Yuuki and Thundatross have to fight him in an epic climactic battle, with Gigaman giving Yuuki one last extra push to succeed and save his dad. The whole thing is very anime, it’s great.

Afterwards they kinda just leave Dr. Reiner in the wreck of his mech to starve to death in the hollow earth, which is kinda fucked up??

Also the devs confirmed that this story mode is the closest to a “canon” one.

In summary, Thundatross is an excellently executed anime mech with a cool story mode, and it’s a great addition to Gigabash. It also reveals many interesting things about Giga Energy.

[neonshrike]

I see you ask and raise you:

Director's Cut - scene or line from your work that made you just like...in awe of your skill, where like you thought what you did deserved a big pat on the back

That one goes to Chapter 13 of Soundbite. There's a lot of really good moments, it's the final battle! Lucille, Scott, and Hope fighting together and then her showdown with Daniel was good, I think action is what I'm best at writing. I have two favorites though, both were pretty major twists and memorable moments.

Might be a long post, I get pretty into it when I'm talking about my creative process and background stuff, this ask game is one of my favorites.

She could hear Scott and Hope trying to get into the suite to no avail. He could grow to giant size, but it would draw too much attention and potentially destroy the entire place while they were inside. Even if he chose to transform, Bruce wouldn’t be able to make it to her in time. Just as she felt the sting of thinking about the last person she cared about, a glass cage came down and trapped her inside, Lucille became stuck in her feelings and was too panicked to react and move out of the way. She looked around, thinking this was one of his final tricks until the air stayed the same, thin as if she were at a high altitude, but still breathable. She started to take slow breaths, but wondered what could have caused this until her earpiece came back on. “Are you in the glass?” Kurt asked her through the comms, sounding both worried and relieved at the same time. “Please, did it work?”

Kurt saves Lucille! He's usually just the "guy in the chair" and away from all the action, but I wanted him to have a cool moment where he uses his skills to save the day. It really just cements how much they care about each other.

I think it's a little hard for Kurt to be able to actually help out with Lucille and relate to her struggles since he isn't a superhero, just a normal guy with a computer, but he still can make a huge difference and he is a vital part of the mission and her life.

“They’ll remember me through you.”

These are Daniel's last words, gloating to Lucille that even though he's about to die, he's going to win in the end. Because of him, she is who she is today and if it weren't for the terrible things he did, Lucille wouldn't have met everyone. If she becomes a famous hero, he's woven into her origin story and it's almost impossible to separate him from it. It's kind of a bittersweet victory that way.

Scott and Hope flew inside and grew back to normal size, hoping to see if Lucille was okay. Both of them came closer to her, concerned, but she rushed to Daniel’s side to assess his condition. They followed and their eyes widened at the sight, Daniel was almost unconscious, his heartbeat and breathing slow and quiet. His body was pale and frozen, and his eyes struggled to stay open as they looked over at the two Avengers. The corners of his mouth twitched up. “No, no,” Lucille sighed, lifting him up a little, ready to jump out and carry him away. “You can’t die, you can’t just leave this behind.” She stopped as Daniel took a loud, sharp breath and the sound of his heart turned to silence. Her body tensed up for a moment, then Lucille frantically checked his vitals for any sign of life, but when it became clear that he was dead, she set his body back down on the floor. She froze, still kneeling as her vision blurred and all the noise she was hearing started to fade. Scott had to pull her from the floor and into his arms as Hope went to purge the research files and any record of his progress with the Pym Particles.

I think they could have found a way into the room, but it made the most thematic sense for Lucille to be alone with him. She's had enough help up to this point, this was her time to shine.

Lucille feels like she lost because he's not alive to pay for what he's done. It's not the happiest ending, and she's in a lot of pain and denial for what just happened. Scott knows that letting her stay in her feelings isn't good for her, he might have felt the same way after Natasha and Tony's deaths. Hope is a little bit more focused and since it's her family's work in danger, is the one to finish the job.

[abandoned-by-caine]

Abandonware and Nostalgia

I was recently watching a YouTube video where this guy was exploring a Garry’s Mod map when he mentioned an old CD-ROM game he played as a kid (the specific story is from 14:00-15:16). It’s called Crayola 3D Castle Creator. Something that really caught my attention was when he mentioned a jester character and old 3D graphics. I did a quick Google search and managed to find it quite easily.

Now, tell me… does the jester on the cover look somewhat familiar to y'all or is it just me?

Granted, the actual character in the game doesn’t look anything like they do on the cover…

Eugh. Like, seriously, what is that thing? …but anyway, there’s still an uncanny resemblance in the cover art that I can’t unsee. I wonder if there's any subtle inspiration for Pomni’s design stemming from this game? Probably not but it’s a neat little similarity either way :)

Also, even though you can’t really play the game anymore unless you have a computer that runs Windows 98, I was able to find a version of the game that you can download (though it may not be entirely playable as I haven't tested it myself) on MyAbandonware! It’s essentially a super cool website that has a massive collection of abandoned/dead games you can still download, although some need an emulator or specific PC specs, as with any game.

It kinda dragged me down a rabbit hole of learning what actually counts as abandonware. This particular website is just one of many internet archives for software archaeologists to preserve games that might otherwise be lost to time, some of which are the only pieces of media to use their specific game engines. It’s really neat stuff, and super useful for historical preservation purposes!

Anyway, I’ll post more about all that stuff later, but just know that all this research has certainly given me some... ideas for the fic… ;)c

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Five

November wears on and turns to December, Christmas lights are strung up across town and the nights get longer, the days colder, and the rain freezes into solid ice on the footpaths, but it doesn’t snow. It never snows, but the bushes, grass and the trees freeze anyway, white against a woollen sky, standing as ballerinas poised, delicate branches like fingers reaching outwards. 

In the weeks leading up to Christmas I work hard on all of my college projects as their deadlines approach, spending every spare moment between those in the computer lab working on my digital illustrations or in the library researching contemporary art practising my figure drawing obsessively. I do it everywhere now, undeterred by the cold, determined to get the best grade in the class because if I’m not good at drawing, then what else do I have to show for myself? 

Dean, as promised, has laid off on his harsh comments. We work more constructively now as a payoff for me showing him how to use Photoshop. He still tells me when aspects of my work need improvement, but he’s stopped using words like “terrible”, “awful” and “lazy” to describe them now, which is a win for me. Sometimes, even, I don’t mind when he’s around. 

One of the girls from our year throws a house party to celebrate the end of the term once we’ve submitted all of our work. She lives in this horrible little red brick terrace in the west of the city where nobody ever seems to clean the floors or pick up after themselves. The ceilings are so low that tall people have to hunch over when they stand up, and the living room carpet is littered with old tea mugs with cigarette butts in them. A tower of empty beer cans is stacked up triumphantly against the wall behind their television, and every shelf of the old pine bookcase is filled with empty bottles. 

“We keep meaning to clean it up.” She confesses to me. “But then we keep having more house parties and people keep messing it up again, so it hardly seems like there’s a point.” Later on when I follow Marnie outside for her cigarette I notice that they don’t have any wheelie bins either. The back garden is stuffed with piles of black bags, of weeks and months of rubbish shoved out of sight and out of mind, and I shudder to think about what is living among it. My skin crawls, with the image of rats and earwigs and woodlice wriggling in the soil, so I go back inside. 

“Evie.” Says Dean, who is sitting on a battered couch, eyes locked to the TV screen with a playstation controller in his hands. “Do you want to play Mario Kart?” 

“I’m not good at games.” I say. “I never had brothers to teach me how.”

“That’s ridiculous.” States a girl from my art history class who’s playing on one quarter of the screen, “There’s nothing about video games that’s prohibitive for women. You don’t need a man to give you permission to learn how to play.”

“Yeah my point was that I never had a playstation.” 

“So you haven’t played Mario Kart?” Dean says accusingly, driving his character, a toadstool mushroom with a squeaky voice sideways up a ramp. 

“I have.” I insist, remembering summer days with Shane and Kelly where they’d inevitably end up beating each other black and blue with their controllers while I drove my character off the side of a cliff over and over again until I started crying and their mam came in to switch the console off. 

“Here.” says a guy, handing me his controller as he gets off the couch and goes into the kitchen, and I have no choice but to take it and start to play as the game counts down to the next race. I’m shaky, and my fingers are hesitant, but I get the hang of it quickly, and after a minute I remember how to play the way that I used to. 

After a few races, I dare say, I actually start to have fun. 

“You’re doing well.” Dean says, even when I’m coming eleventh out of twelveth. It’s nice to be distracted by something so that I can’t focus on my social anxiety, or think too hard about how I’m coming across to all of these people. The girl sitting to my left gets invested in me, and starts cheering encouragingly every time I pass another player out, and even though I finish in fifth place, I feel happy in the end, because she’s happy. And Dean’s happy too. He smiles at me as though he feels proud, and he grabs my shoulder and jostles me like I’m one of the boys, and then somebody comes up to him and says something that I can’t hear over the loud music and he says “yeah, alright.” and goes upstairs. 

At midnight I find Marnie drinking in the bathroom. I don’t mean to walk in on her, but she leaves the door unlocked and instead of using the toilet she’s sitting on the edge of the grubby bath with the girl whose party this is and they’re sharing a bottle of wine between them. 

“Oh sorry.” I say, as I barge in, and they tell me to come and join them, and so I do, and take a swig from the wine which doesn’t taste very nice, but I don’t suppose it’s really meant to. I put the lid of the toilet down and sit there.

“We were having a chat about the people in NCAD.” Marnie says to me, and when she’s drinking like this, her accent sounds so posh that it’s hard to believe that she can ever pull off a neutral one during the day. “Fiona says that none of them are much good at art at all, and that it’s all shallow, and that they don’t truly get what art is.”

“I didn’t say that exactly.” The other girl, Fiona, says. “I was saying that there are people who are good artists, but there’s nobody that makes me go like, ‘wow’, do you know what I mean?” 

I shrug, considering how I must be included in this list of mediocre students, and it brings my feelings of inadequacy back to the fore. “There are some good people.” I say, trying to sound more detached from the conversation than I really feel. “And maybe it’s too early to tell. People are just doing their best and getting comfortable, we probably shouldn’t be too harsh.” 

“Well I was saying to her,” Marnie goes on “That I think there is someone brilliant in our year.”

“Who?”

“Your favourite blonde boy, Dean Cullen.” She says to me, “I think his work is spectacular.”

“He’s okay.” I say begrudgingly, and Marnie nudges Fiona and points to me. “She has a problem with him.” and it’s as though I’m somehow not able to hear her. “She thinks he’s mean about her art.”

“That was weeks ago.” I protest. “It’s fine now.”

“His work is good.” Fiona shrugs, and then a smirk comes over her face. “But he looks like the walking dead. Do you think that he ever goes to sleep?” 

“No.” Marnie says, seizing the wine bottle from me and having a long, luxurious slug. “He told me before that he has to work in the evenings to cover his rent and fees. He’s from Coolock.” They exchange a look between them and I don’t know what it means. 

“What does that mean, he’s from Coolock?” I ask her, and she laughs. “It means he’s from, like, a working class area, he can’t afford to go to college with his own money.”

“Oh. Doesn’t he get any government aid?”

“No they don’t let you have it if you’ve done a degree before.” Fiona says. “And he did a Media degree already so that’s why he’s a cook in some pizza restaurant. I bet he stays up all night after work trying to get his work done.”

“That makes me feel sorry for him a bit.” Says Marnie, although she barely sounds it. “I’m a fan of the exhausted look, though, I have to say. He’s got that sexy, eye bag thing going on, staying up all night is doing wonders for him.” 

“Ew, no.” Fiona snickers. “Hooking up with Dean Cullen would feel like charity work. Imagine going back to his house, there’d be like, a burned out motorbike in the grass in front of it. I can’t stand the idea of even getting the bus to that part of town.”

The palms of my hands prickle with a sudden flash of annoyance. “I’m working class.” I tell her. “My dad works in a factory and  like, I needed financial aid to afford college, and if it wasn’t for that I might be working in a restaurant as well.” 

Her eyebrows shoot up underneath her fringe, but Marnie doesn’t even miss a beat. “Yeah but it’s different with you.” And then she doesn’t get to explain how because her hand slips off the bath and she falls backwards into it in shrieks of alarm, and as Fiona tries to help her up I get up and start to leave. 

“Evie.” Marnie says from the bath. “Can I stay at yours tonight? My parents will go mad at me if I come home drunk.”

“Yeah, okay.” I say, and I go down into the kitchen and start looking for something else to drink. 

Prev // Next

[votederpycausemufins]

Yes I know it's been over a year. Life has been craaaazy. Like I graduated, I got a job, I almost died, I got a new computer, stuff like that. I mentioned some of it in other fic stuff, but maybe you're just here for this scattered fic based on the au from @hermitcraftheadcanons

Fun detail is Evil X and Grum's sections I actually pulled up mc and played to make things more accurate. I mean i messed with my spawn location since you don't normally end up where they did, but otherwise i actually did it.

The Watchers jumped slightly when Xelqua slammed his hand on the table along with a number of papers. “There. All done before the nutshell.”

No one said anything as Zem picked up the papers, reading them over as Xelqua grinned, feathers ruffling excitedly. Yus looked over Zem’s shoulder to read along, sometimes moving the papers to get a look at something they missed. It took a few minutes before Zem handed the whole stack over to Yus so they could really look through it as well as show to the other three. “So, it looks mostly alright, but I want to ask a few things first.”

“Go ahead!” Xelqua happily agreed, quickly building himself a chair and sitting in it, making Zem narrow his eyes.

“First, how were you able to prepare this as fast as you did?”

“Oh, well Mumbo actually wanted to help out. Of course I was suspicious at first, he could have been trying to tweak things in their favor, but he actually made it worse! I mean so many shriekers littered about, prioritizing moving people around, more challenges, he’s even fine with giving the ‘living redstone’ things a downgrade. Oh and not to mention this little tidbit here.” And Xelqua ran over, stealing one of the papers to really let Zemunis look at it. “Adding an extra requirement to this whole thing similar to that little rotator. Meaning it’ll last longer and we’ll get more time to test and research. I mean, this will definitely up the time from around six months.”

“And are you sure that extra time won’t skew our results?”

Quickly, Xelqua’s cheery demeanor turned serious and almost angry. “I’m sorry, are you saying we shouldn’t do this?”

“Well I think he’s just-” Yuslep spoke up before a glare silenced them again.

“We’ve gotten results already. Herobrine has already started giving us answers after who knows how many years you two have tried getting him talking. And now we know that this is the world. If we do anything wrong, They’ll just show up and tell us to stop. Now, not sure if you’ve noticed, but as far as I can tell, They haven’t shown up. And since They haven’t shown up, They probably don’t want us to stop. So until They do, we’re going to keep going. Plus, you agreed to this if I could get the work done, and now I have.”

“Well, you didn’t really get it done. One of the testers did.”

“One who is learning to become a Marked. If we’re going to allow any of them, it would be him. So. Are you allowing this, or not?”

With the current tension in the room, Zem jumped as Pin whispered in his ear. Watchers were fortunately known for their eyes and not their ears, so a hand in front of Pin’s mouth easily made the conversation private from Xelqua. “Look, if one of the hermits planned this all out, it’s obviously something that should help them in the long run, even if Grian can’t see it. And it’s not like the experiment isn’t a mess already with how it’s affected Grian. Noah even just got back and is recovering because whatever’s doing this to Grian messed with him as well. And either way, he’s right about us finally getting information. If you’re worried about the time, all this might end up shorter if we can finally find Them from the experiment.”

Zem was quiet for a few moments, processing all the information before giving a single sharp nod. “Yuslep, send a mass message to the testers once we’re ready to implement the changes. Give them a warning of half an hour, then update.”

“Got it.” Yus agreed before rushing off, beginning to set things up.

After Joe passed out in the tower, Beef struggled getting him back to the village. While he rested, Beef worked on gathering more materials. Around the time Joe finally woke up again, Beef didn’t get a chance to ask for what he had been trying to say earlier because the messages from Doc and Etho started flooding the chat. Immediately Beef crafted an anvil and some stone swords for Joe to use on him, sending some messages to everyone.

While it did work, it was done while Joe was only just waking up, so the action left him tired. At first Beef was the one to let himself die since Joe was still recovering, but it was more important after it was pointed out that hybrids were being affected, which was probably similar to what was wrong with Joe. 

Beef was sure he would be able to ask Joe once he woke up again, but that hope was dashed again when his comm started making noise other than the standard buzzing. The last message that had been sent through deaths was a message from Mumbo, warning that the experiment was going to change up a bit, but it turned out it was coming sooner than anyone thought. Though Beef wasn’t speaking out loud, at the same time he read the message, it seemed like the voice of someone else was reading it off with him.

“As stated previously by a player, an update will occur for the experiment at the request of one of your own. All spawns will be reset but inventories will stay constant. Unregistered players will be registered, creating a total of 30 players. Terrain may be altered, but will for the most part remain unchanged if already explored. Original spawns may also change due to player overlap. The update will occur in half an hour. You have thirty minutes.”

Beef quickly shook Joe awake the rest of the way and they began to gather resources and equipment into their inventories. With the mention of spawns changing due to overlap, especially with the two of them at true spawn as opposed to anywhere else, Beef and Joe were most worried about their spawns changing. 

They, along with anyone else who could, grabbed armor, weapons, tools, blocks, and more, preparing for when the time was up. Coordinates were memorized for meeting points, and a few messages were sent in chat in hopes that it wouldn’t be wiped. And then-

‘Your Server will be Restarted Shortly. Please be patient.’

.

.

.

The mountain was a reluctantly familiar sight. It being devoid of life, however, was not. Sure, there was the weird pillar monument thing from before, plus the bed, but there should be more. “Hello? Is anyone here? Dad? Grum?”

The last thing Jrum remembered was him and Grum seeing a message where someone was killed by a zombie using a named tool. Said tool was listed in chat, which made the two of them realize that renamed weapons or whatever could be used to send actual messages. The problem was you needed an anvil. 

Somehow, he and Grum had managed to imprint some of the letters on and around the pillar to a snowball. Jrum offered to be the one killed for the message, if it could even really be called that. They had done their best to use the odd symbols to look like the word hello, but it didn’t really. 

But even then, he had been killed, and it didn’t look like he had respawed normally as not only did the time seem completely different, but Grum was nowhere to be seen. His next guess was that Grian was right to worry about their respawning and needing to use magic for it, but then Grian didn’t seem to be here either. Did that just mean that normally for them, it would take ages? Did… did Grum think he was dead for good?

But where was Grum? There didn’t seem to be a path down or anything. At least that he could see. But maybe the same thing that happened to him happened to Grum. After he didn’t respawn, Grum would have been alone. And he had to do everything himself until he slipped up. Which meant he was probably just taking his time respawning just like Jrum.

But as he finished that train of thought, he then noticed the amount of death messages appearing in chat. Ones that probably shouldn’t be happening… not with the prior information he knew. Impulse didn’t seem to be drowning, nor was Daddy dying to vindicators. But Xisuma was still being killed by a Warden and Wels to hoglins, so at first it would seem like they escaped their area, but at the same time, there were other messages causing confusion.

Last Jrum knew, it was only the hermits, he and his brother, oh and those two mysterious players Gemini and Pearlescent. But apparently Helsknight was also here now. Also False hadn’t dealt with any other deathloop other than a little bit of drowning at the start, but now she kept dying to something called dripstone. And while Xisuma was still being killed by that warden, now the death message was different mentioning a sonically charged shriek. And finally Zedaph was now being eaten by frogs? For some reason? Jrum didn’t even know what that was!

Jrum was just about to essentially set the messages to a sort of do not disturb so he wouldn’t have to focus on that, but just before he did, a new death message popped up. This wasn’t one of the hermits, nor was it one of the new people. Instead, it was Grum’s name, and he had been killed by a Piglin.

Jrum was immediately looking around. There wasn’t much on the mountain, and he had already looked around, but he had still hoped to either see a nether portal, or see Grum respawn. But neither of those happened. He still looked around expectantly for a few more moments, barely noticing himself starting to shiver before there were more messages of Grumbot getting killed by not only piglins, but hoglin and brutes as well. Jrum almost shut his messages off so he didn’t need to look, but then a single message from Doc came in, saying ‘bot. water.’ and a pair of coordinates, him having gotten an anvil apparently and given a sword to a zombie.

Bot was probably referring to him with the nether not able to have water since now Grum was spawning there for some reason, plus Grum had reported seeing Doc below the clouds. That, along with the fact the coordinates weren’t too far from where he currently stood. In fact they were close enough that he could probably jump to where the water was. Since it would probably be easier to get back up to the mountaintop after going down and hopefully getting resources, Jrum took a running start, then jumped.

.

.

.

The sky was not black. It was very much blue. Meaning Evil Xisuma had gotten their spawn moved to the overworld. Pretty much the last place they wanted to be. Sort of. They lifted their head to see where exactly they ended up, only to curse when they saw very very large mushrooms. They took it back, this was the last place they wanted to be.

He gave a long sigh, putting his head back down and continuing to lie in the mycelium. “Fuck it, I’ll just kill some mooshrooms and swim elsewhere.” Then after a moment more, they jumped to their feet, running towards what looked like further into the island. Opposed to what the message given to everyone said, EX did not still have his loot from the end city in his inventory, which was going to make any progress to get back there very difficult.

While there were indeed mooshrooms, that was not the only thing present on the island. Standing among the mushrooms, growing from mycelium and not a patch of grass, were some trees. They weren’t trees EX recognized, but they were still some type of tree. “Well I guess I don’t have to swim.”

Instead of attacking the mooshrooms, Xannes started gathering wood. The wood itself seemed to be oak, but the leaves looked the wrong color and shape, plus last they checked, no leaves had flowers blooming in them. Eventually a sort of sapling fell, that being an azalea shrub, whatever that was. But if it could be bonemealed into a tree, it would work. But that meant getting some bonemeal, which meant finding a skeleton. And monsters didn’t spawn on or under mushroom islands.

Or at least that’s what Evil Xisuma thought, because once they had gathered a few trees worth of wood and shrubs as well as some beef and leather, they went down into a surface cave. They were already intrigued by what seemed to be vines glowing further into the cave that they didn’t realize until too late that a skeleton was nearby. At this point, the only gear they had was some leather crafted into boots to potentially help reduce fall damage a tad. They didn’t really have enough to make more, and they didn’t think they would need any.

EX managed to whack the thing once with their axe before getting killed. They grumbled before finding their way back to the cave, managing to grab their stuff and start leaving the cave before getting shot again. Fortunately they weren’t attacked after picking everything up again and instead mined some stone that was further away from the dark part of the cave. 

After getting a good amount, EX crafted a furnace, as well as a stone pick, sword and axe. They grabbed a little bit more wood now that they knew that tools and torches would be more important. The skeleton had moved away a bit, but a creeper was in its place. The creeper exploded around the time the skeleton wandered back over, damaging it a bit more, but it took another hit before the monster was finally dead. 

Xannes ate some of their now cooked beef before realizing that regen still seemed to be disabled in the world, so they couldn’t heal back to full, but at least for now they had about seven hearts. Plus there were no more mobs, and there only seemed to be the one dark area and further into the cave also had the ground above it missing, acting as a sort of skylight.

They used the area as a chance to mine for iron and coal, only to be surprised when the iron wasn’t ore, but some sort of raw iron. It seemed to need to be cooked as well, which didn’t make much sense to them; but it was whatever. They got it cooking before going towards a slightly darker area, now with armor, a shield and an iron axe. There was only one skeleton, but it did give them a bone, which was the point of looking.

Gathering up the last of the cooked iron as well as their utility blocks and some more coal, Xannes had grabbed water from one of the various clay lined pools. There had been a single block leading down to a cave, and right now the goal was to get down to diamond and lava level.

There was a bit of an incident with some mobs at the bottom of the water stream. One of which being a perfect line up to end EX up with a music disk, though it was 11. Further down past that was a more open cave. The greenery, clay and water from before was gone, which would have made it look normal, if it weren’t for the fact that the stone was the wrong color.

Getting distracted, Evil Xisuma looked around, trying to figure out what the weird stone might mean… up until they ran into an exposed piece of diamond ore. And hidden underneath were four more. “Alright, I’ve changed my mind. I ended up in the perfect place.”

.

.

.

When Grum opened his eyes again, he expected to find himself up on top of the mountain again, hopefully with his brother. From there, it would be easy to make their way back down to where Doc was positioned, assuming the pond they had made was still in place. Unfortunately instead of snow and ice and cold, Grum found his new spawn much hotter, with blackstone around him and the grunts of some nearby piglin.

With no danger immediately present, Grum checked on the world chat messages, noticing that a few players had gotten into death loops again, though some had gotten into new ones as well as some of continued deathloops having some small changes, that mainly being Xisuma’s.

Wondering about his dad, Grum then switched over to the player list, finding all the hermits listed including his dad, though with a different name than usual listed for him. There of course was also Pearl and then the other unfamiliar person, Geminitay, but there were also two newer-ish names. Those names were Helsknight, who was vaguely familiar, but also Xannes, which wasn’t as much. It would just have to be something Grum would ask about if he found anyone.

Well, anyone who was a player, as once he stopped looking at the world chat and tried exploring his spawn, he managed to run into a piglin and got killed. Knowing that path wouldn’t work, Grum attempted to go a different way, but this time he found a hoglin inside the bastion which also made quick work of him. By the time he finally managed to get to a safe area, Grum had been killed by some piglin brutes as well as more deaths from the other two. And if anything, he had been killed by some of the brutes a few times more than the others. Normally he wouldn’t try paying attention to that, but it wasn’t like this world was normal.

Grum finally noticed that the safe area he had found was actually a pretty good place to be. He could hear piglins, sure, but there were none in sight, even despite the fact that there was a chest right there. He carefully listened around to figure out how close the piglins were before opening the chest, getting prepared to run. He knew enough to recall that piglins did not like you rooting through their chests, so they could show up when he did. 

After a few seconds with the chest opened, nothing arrived, so Grum carefully looked inside, still keeping an eye on the surrounding area. The two most important items to him were a gold sword and a golden apple, a weapon and a way to heal since regen still seemed to be off. There were also a decent amount of arrows and a pair of crossbows, which were also helpful, though Grum wasn’t sure how well he could use them. As for the rest of the items in the chest, Grum collected up some golden carrots, some string, a singular pork chop, two iron nuggets, a handful of bone blocks, and some crying obsidian, but most importantly, there was some regular obsidian as well.

If Grum could find a ruined portal, or just more obsidian and enough stuff for a flint and steel, he would be able to create a portal and escape. Unfortunately, that all hinged on him actually getting out of the bastion alive as well, since he would lose all the items if he did die. There was the potential of dying so many times the piglins accepted him as one of their own, but he wasn’t really looking forward to the possibility of being part mob. If he even could become part mob when he was a robot and not a regular player.

From where Grum stood, he could just barely make out a chest on the other side of the bastion. He couldn’t see any piglins directly between it and him, but who knew what would be on the way there, and if he could even easily get there since there was also a large pool of lava in the middle as well. It was surrounding some netherwart, so that meant there was a platform, but that would likely be soul sand which would slow him and- he was overthinking this.

Steeling himself, Grum loaded both of his crossbows before running towards the chest. Almost immediately a piglin was in his way, and Grum turned to try and run away from it before getting cornered. With no other option, he fired his crossbow and was relieved when the single arrow was able to kill the piglin. Unfortunately, in running, he had fallen down a level, which hadn’t hurt him, but there was now a wall keeping him from getting directly to the chest. Loading the crossbow again, Grum carefully made his way around the wall through thin corridors, expecting danger at every turn.

Finding another dead end, Grum turned around, only for an armored piglin to see him. With two more arrows and a swipe from his sword, Grum killed it, but not before taking some damage. He barely had time to load his crossbow again before another piglin armored appeared with a brute by its side. Miraculously, Grum was able to hit the brute into the lava pool and kill the piglin, even getting its golden chestplate, which he immediately threw on. Just in time as third piglin appeared, this one with no armor but a crossbow of its own. Grum only had his sword ready, so sliced at it, getting shot once in the process, but not being killed. 

With no more threats immediately appearing, Grum ate his apple, glad for the healing to take him back to full hearts and then a little. Another piglin with a crossbow saw Grum as he made his way to another alcove. Grum managed to take one of his bone blocks to block a gap for them to see him from, but in the process found some magma flooring, taking just a touch of damage before he was safe again, hearing the piglin killed by a hoglin.

From his new place, Grum could see another chest in the middle of the lava, which unfortunately was now further away from him than where he had started. It was something he could try to get to if he died again, but that was still thankfully an if. The regular path continued into a dead end until Grum went up a level, but he could hear more piglins there, so instead he used his other two bone blocks to bridge a small gap towards another opening.

Using a touch of crying obsidian as well as punching through some blocks with his hand, Grum ran into another piglin, and only barely stopped himself from firing his crossbow before noticing that he wasn’t being attacked thanks to his stolen armor. Unfortunately, the same didn’t work for brutes, and there was one between him and the chest. Thankfully, it couldn’t reach where he stood, but Grum knew opening the chest would also anger the piglins, so he had to take his next steps very carefully.

The moment he attacked the brute, all the piglins get angry with him. With some panic, Grum managed to get them all to walk into a pit where they could get in and out, but couldn’t get to him. Barely dodging an arrow, Grum managed to attack with his sword, and then watched in surprise as pretty much all the piglins found a puddle of lava and fell into it.

As Grum continued to pick off piglins, a baby hoglin dropped in on him, barely loading his crossbow in time to hit it before it thankfully ran into the pit as well. Finally, Grum reached the chest, and then yelled in frustration at the items inside. The most useful items were more bone blocks as well as chains, as he could build across gaps with them, but the piglin disc and other gold chestplate weren’t as helpful. Well, Actually his stolen one was almost broken, so he did replace it, but it was still lacking.

With some reluctance, Grum made his way to the center chest, picking up the growing netherwart as well. Taking a deep breath, he went to open the chest, only to get killed by a piglin brute that fell from above. Feeling angry as he respawned, Grum didn’t even hesitate as he rushed back and shoved the brute into the lava, picking up what remained of his own items. Thankfully the new chestplate still survived along with his obsidian. In fact, while his sword had fallen in lava as well as one crossbow, the other crossbow survived with the arrows. And as Grum opened the chest, he doubled his obsidian as well as got a gold axe.

With enough obsidian to make a portal, Grum smiled before frowning at the fact that holding the axe felt a bit more comfortable than the sword or crossbow. He hoped maybe it was just his own imagination, but Grum couldn’t be sure. But not wanting to dwell on it or get the chance to die again, Grum immediately used his obsidian to make a portal frame. Though he couldn’t light it, it was at least there, so Grum stood on top to fire arrows at the rest of the piglins and brutes and hoglins, taking the last few out with punches into lava when his arrows finally ran out.

Feeling safer, Grum explored a bit more. There were unfortunately no more chests, but Grum did find where what seemed to be every remaining piglin seemed to be. He did his best to block up the area with bone blocks, but one brute escaped, which killed him twice before he finally killed it in return. But with that, he was safe. There weren’t any more hoglins or brutes, and the only remaining piglins were children and didn’t attack him. They seemed scared of him, which was reasonable since he had just killed what seemed to be their family. 

He felt a little sad for them, but he had to do it to survive. With some reluctance, Grum picked up the chests he had emptied and took them to his spawn point. He was still stuck here, but he had the beginnings of a way out, and that was progress, and progress was good.

.

.

.

He was willing to admit that he had lied a little with what he had said to Wels. After the warning of the soft reset, Hels had reluctantly helped with obtaining stone tools for himself and Welsknight. He also did his best to kill a couple of hoglins and pass the pork off with a reminder that starving was probably a better option than eating crimson fungus.

It was midway through trying to make sure Wels' spawn was safe when it happened. One moment Hels was in the nether placing blocks, the next he was in the overworld, and with his inventory completely empty. Great, so the part about him keeping his stuff was a lie. Which made things a lot worse for him.

When he had tried to claim that needing to keep Wels from dying just wasted resources he could have used for himself, that wasn't entirely the case. While his name was Helsknight, it was in part because he was from a sort of alternate universe or whatever that was referred to as hels. Going between the two places wasn't common. He had ended up there in the first place because of one of the Hermits' inventions, and was only back due to Evil Xisuma. The only reason he had been doing so well in the nether was because Evil X had insisted on modding one of their seasons with the nether. Because that dimension wasn't normally a part of hels.

Helsknight himself, despite being named after the alternate universe or whatever that didn't have the nether, had actually been from a world that had also been modded with the fiery dimension. Which, if he knew enough about how things worked, Wels was in the same situation, being from a world that had added in the connections to an extra dimension. Still, the dimension that Hels had grown up with didn't exactly match the present day nether of wels, but for whatever reason, Evil X had wanted to be nice and give a slice of home to the knight. It had felt off since it was made to match the new version of things, but now Hels appreciated the gesture.

It still hadn't exactly matched with the nether Hels had found himself in before, but it gave him some familiarity with the dimension he had found himself in. But emphasis on had. Because now he found himself in the overworld in a biome he didn't fully recognize. And that would be bad enough if it weren't also for the fact that he wasn't exactly sure how to actually survive.

Okay, that was sort of hyperbole, but it was still going to be tough. From what Hels had learned after his first visit to wels, there hadn't originally been a separation between the two dimensions. But sometime around the addition of a new dimension, the split happened. Since then, the two dimensions had stayed separate, and what might be discovered in one of the worlds would have a different equivalent in the other.

Like for instance, apparently they had spruce and birch instead of pine and sycamore. If something that small was different, what else was he going to deal with? Well for one, probably the bird a couple of blocks away from him. He looked at it and it looked back, but nothing happened, so it probably wasn’t hostile. He then looked around at the landscape, hoping to spot some kind of landmark, only to be disappointed by finding just one. 

Just like at Wels’ spawn, a similar pillar thing stood just behind where Hels appeared. But unlike the netherbrick of the other one, this was made mainly from a type of wood he can’t recall the name of. It’s orange wood, but the bark is more of a gray. The only things not like that are the piece of bedrock and the strange block on top of it that looked like weird dirt or stone.

As far as Helsknight could tell, he couldn’t get anything out of the small structure other than being able to see his spawn. Maybe that meant he should build his base there, but he needed to gather wood first. So, Hels started walking to the nearest tree, punching at the logs that matched what the spawn marker was made of. When he finally picked them up, he noted that they were ‘acacia’ before turning them into a crafting table and set of wooden tools.

Chopping down another tree, Hels used the planks to outline where his base would be before digging at the group below until he hit stone, then continued to mine that up until he could change to a stone pickaxe and make a furnace. He popped back up to the surface to place the untility block next to his crafting table, also making and placing a chest for good measure.

Digging randomly for coal wasn’t really the best option in the moment, so after stuffing the extra cobble and dirt into the chest, Hels went looking for a shallow cave in hopes of finding some coal ore. Thankfully it didn’t take long, and he mined it up and crafted a number of torches. One was placed in the cave opening to help it stand out, and he placed a small trail on the way back to his base for the same reason.

While placing one in the center of his outlined area, Hels frowned at where it was now suddenly broken. For whatever reason, a few of the blocks he had placed were just missing now. He couldn’t really see why, but Helsknight placed more blocks in the gap. After that, he added a second layer of blocks to make sure there was a wall to hopefully keep out any monsters once night finally hit.

Now that Hels had a number of torches, he continued his staircase in the spawn area. If he could find a cave below his spawn, then he wouldn’t need to go exploring too far. And with regen off, if he died, it would be fairly easy to return to where he had been. But that meant finding a cave in the first place.

For now, he was having very little luck. Helsknight had only managed to find two pieces of iron ore, and he had no clue what to do with the raw iron that had dropped. Even if it worked like regular iron ingots, what was he supposed to do with shears? As Hels tried to potentially come up with any idea, his train of thought stopped in its tracks when he reached the surface. In the same area as before, the planks making the wall for his temporary base were gone.

Helsknight stared at the gap in the wall, trying to figure out why it was there again. His first guess was the strange bird he had seen earlier, but at this point, it had wandered off far enough that he couldn’t see it anywhere nearby. With another glance, he noticed how that side of his wall was closer to the spawn structure than the rest of it. Probably nothing could be within a certain distance of the thing. 

With a frustrated sign, Hels tore up what remained of that wall and expanded it. He was still going to enclose the thing to some degree. It was his spawn, and the thing was important enough that protecting it was probably the safest option.

.

.

.

The first time he had seen a player was a surprise, leaving quickly enough he was pretty sure he wasn’t spotted. The next time he wasn’t as sure, but couldn’t tell. The third and fourth times he knew they didn’t, but the fifth time he knew he had been seen.

He had been alone for a long time, on his own and sometimes managing to find himself in different worlds. Sometimes, those worlds included other people. And when those people saw him, they talked about him. Those talks ended up connecting to more things they had spotted, things he had left behind like little tunnels or small builds. He didn’t think it would amount to much, until the first time a player appeared in the world he was in, instead of the other way around.

That had been this world. Ages and ages ago. When the first Watcher had appeared. They did something to him that day. They essentially laid a curse upon him, one he was stuck with for ages. Technically, he was still stuck with it, but it had been lessened. At most he could say it left him feeling sick for a day or so. And part of that was because of how accommodating his current home was.

Well, it wasn’t really current now. This world wasn’t supposed to be their home. And it seemed someone had noticed the little fix that had been given to his curse. The Watchers were running the show after all. They wouldn’t want something like that messed with if they hadn’t been the ones fixing it.

But he didn’t know it had happened until it was too late. The idea only crossed his mind near the end of their timer. He did his best to rush back to a piece of safety, hoping to ride out what he thought was coming. Surely he could be taken care of for a little bit. That’s what hermits did after all.

He called out to Beef in time for him to turn around right as the server reset began. And when everything was set back to normal, only one hermit remained at the true spawn. And due to the message given previously, Beef sadly assumed that the other Hermit had ended up with a moved spawn.

But that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t moved spawns, but he was no longer at the true spawn. He was nowhere. 

Version 1.ᓭᒷ.0, Changes: - Removed Herobrine ⋮𝙹ᒷ⍑╎ꖎꖎᓭᓭᔑ||ᓭ

[munsonology]

Eddie being a brat tamer is all that is in my head right now. Just him grabbing you and spanking you. Hot hot hot.

I also can imagine the first time you agree to being tied up. You don't know if it is because you are completely vulnerable yet you feel 100% safe, the way he checks in on you before getting rough again, or what it is. But its also the first time you squirt (oh his mouth drops and he immediately claims it is the hottest thing he's ever seen, you know damn well he's gonna try to make you do it again with and without the bondage)

10000% agree! Eddie is over the moon when you tell him you want to give control to him, quickly explaining how you’re the one with the power to tell him your safe word at any point. He always asks if you’re ok and if you need him to slow down. He talks you through your orgasms and when you squirt from just his fingers (rings on, 3 knuckle deep) he tells you how he can’t wait for you to do that again.

And knowing it’s possible to cum from just spanking!!!!! 😮 like where’s Eddie when you need him 🥵

I thought I was so weird when I realized I liked spanking. There was this episode of Maury where this girl’s bf was cheating on her and Maury set him up with the a hidden camera in their bedroom and he was caught red handed spanking the some girl in front of the dresser! And he got caught with the sexy decoy!

Then in computer class I was reading master of the universe during reading time and I was like “ms. Ly my book is on the computer ☺️”

and now it’s 50 shades (whether or not it’s accurate is another thing but I think that fic did introduce us to dom/subs then we did our own research)

And when I found Anne rice in our school library 🤤 and those alien sex books from the 90s/00s with the cgi cover that’s all torn!

“What are you reading?” “Nothing just this fantasy book about werewolves”

And the werewolf is actually a lycan fuckin his mate stupid with a whole lycan dick in the forest 😭 now I read smut waiting for my pink drink at starbucks ! Full circle lmaooo