#Poor man just wants to not lag out the server

[fruitcakebro]

At this point this next Hermitcraft prank war is just gonna go until Pearl kills everyone involved because she's tired of cleaning up after them.

[weaselandfriends]

hey! Just watched Players, and was interested in hearing more of your thoughts on it--in what respects you found it hewed true to your own research/experience. I've never engaged with eSports, but Players' depiction of "online masculinity" more broadly was very compelling to me, and reminded me of Jay from CQ, albeit with a more balanced/positive slant. I think that sincerity/positivity hurt the show by preventing it from exploring racism/sexism in gaming culture; you catch glimmers of it, particularly in the internet's reaction to Nightfall's replacement of Guru, but the show goes out of its way to avoid couching it in those terms, presumably to show eSports in a more sympathetic light. Race and gender are common themes in your stories; do you think you would have placed more of a focus on them? Also, have you seen American Vandal? That show's first season was memorable to me for its dissonant ending, which placed all that preceded in a new light; Players has a more understated version of the same, in which Organizm's inhuman, unhinged voicemail is shown to have perfectly predicted Creamcheese's feelings, thus humanizing it in retrospect--only for Organizm to reject this, sacrificing everything in pursuit of impossuble perfection. Many of the show's characters are embodiments of some skill/archetype, and it asks what exactly separates these paragons from ordinary people--which I felt closely matched your own style of characterisation. Thanks for your time!

I'll preface this by saying that I haven't actually seen Players. I just know about it, since it was heavily advertised on the LCS stream when it came out. I'll mention a fun fact though: Nightfall's actor is actually an ex-LCS pro named Youngbin, a Korean-American who once played for Team Liquid. As I understand it, the show also has cameos from many other real pros and esports personalities.

I can speak about some of the topics you brought up, though. First up, racism in the esports scene. This was one of the major topics I wanted to cover in my planned esports story. In particular, I wanted to use the story as a vehicle to challenge the idea of American exceptionalism. In League of Legends, the North American region is a distant fourth best, behind Korea, China, and Europe. In the early days of the scene it was possible to chalk this discrepancy up to infrastructure, especially when it came to Korea; having already developed a sophisticated esports scene due to StarCraft, Korea had an organizational and coaching edge over the rest of the world from about 2012, when the game first took off in Korea, to 2017, when big money investors in the other three regions were injecting huge cashflows into teams. This was an era of Korean dominance, where Korean teams won almost every time. To catch up, the other three regions would import Korean players to their regions as much as possible (since 2015 there have been rules in place to limit imports to 2 per 5-man team), and the only region to ever really catch up to Korea is China, which combined high-money importing of top Korean pros with the gargantuan Chinese server population (China loves League of Legends, it's like the national sport) to finally start winning some tournaments.

North America has consistently lagged behind even China and Europe, an issue mainly related to low server population and poor American internet infrastructure, which forces most prospective NA players to learn and practice the game on much higher ping than pros in any of the other major regions. On top of NA being bad, NA is consistently buoyed by high-profile import players, as opposed to "native" North American players. Actual American and Canadian players often take up filler role player positions around imported Korean and European stars, which has led to a general fact of life that Americans are simply not that good at the game compared to the competition. This is in spite of the fact that League of Legends is an American game made by an American company. It's a joke in traditional sports that Americans are only the best at sports they made, but in League, Americans aren't even that. I wanted to center my story around an American role player in a more supportive position like top, who would have to grapple with the fact that despite being in the top 1% of the top 1% of the top 1% of players, he was simply not good enough to matter beyond that.

Racism in the esports scene is an odd issue, because it's less "racism" and more "regionalism"--or xenophobia. This is due to the league format of professional League of Legends, in which regional leagues (Korea, China, Europe, and NA) feed into a major international Worlds cup. In a sports scene where teams are not tied to specific cities the way they are in traditional sports, this regionalism is often what drives fans to support certain teams, what causes people to root for a team that feels like "theirs." This makes the fan ecosystem closer to the way people root for teams or players at the Olympics or the World Cup, instead of what it's like in the NFL, NBA, etc. Where things get complicated in terms of League is that unlike the Olympics or World Cup, teams from a region are allowed to field players from other regions to represent them. In North America, as I mentioned, this issue is exacerbated because not only are North American teams bad, they're bad often without even being quote-unquote "North American." I mentioned before that there is an import rule that ostensibly ensures every team is 3/5ths comprised of native players. However, due to a variety of loopholes and also the United States' significantly more lenient legal residency and immigration restrictions compared to China, there are many players who were imported to NA solely to play League of Legends who are now technically counted as non-imports. At the most recent Worlds, NA sent three teams, and of the 15 players on those teams, only 3 were "native North Americans," the rest either being imports or former imports who got green cards, making them legally residents. One team was comprised entirely of imports or former imports. Meanwhile, other regions are represented by teams that have a majority of "native" players. So the fan ecosystem is designed around supporting "your region," but NA is in the unique position where "your region" is majority comprised of players from "another region." Hence the point of soreness.

The racism question gets further complicated by the racial makeup of "native" North American players, which heavily slants toward Asian-Americans/Asian-Canadians. Of the 3 "native" players at Worlds last year, 2 were Asian-American/-Canadian (the third was Quebecois). Doublelift, the most famous and beloved North American pro, on whom I believe Players' Creamcheese was modeled, is a Chinese-American whose real name is Yiliang Peng. The breakout rookie star of last year, Jojopyun, is a Korean-Canadian who "native NA" fans held up as the shining hope of native NA talent. Youngbin himself, who plays Nightfall, is a Korean-American "native" pro. This begs another interesting question: Is it racism to support Asian-Americans over Asian Non-Americans? I think this uniquely positioned sports ecosystem creates a complex and interlocking system of identities that is prime for exploration in a narrative format. With the prevalence of European importing, it becomes even stranger. Most of the white players in the North American league aren't Americans or Canadians, but European imports, who are often subjected to the same prejudice and bias among fans as Korean imports. THEN it gets even more interesting when you factor in country of birth, which isn't even tied to citizenship or residency. One of the most famous "native" North American players is Spica, who was born in China and moved to Philadelphia when he was 10 or so. He still has Chinese citizenship and is only considered a "resident" of the United States, exactly like many of those green card-holding "imports," and yet Spica is universally considered "native" talent by fans. Last year, one team (CLG) made a splash by fielding almost entirely "native" talent, and was held up by fans as the "native talent" team--even though one of their players, Dhokla, was born in India. So where is the line? What distinguishes "native" from "foreign"? This is such a complex notion of identity that I feel like I could talk about it for hours.

As for sexism, yeah it's just really sexist.

I guess it's a bit more nuanced than that. League of Legends is like chess in which there is ostensibly no physical reason why women wouldn't be able to compete at the top level, and yet there simply are very few women who do. I follow the League scene from the amateur system to the pro leagues, and it's not like there is a large number of talented female players who are simply being withheld chances to compete due to organizational/player/fan sexism. There have even been instances of major organizations creating all-female development teams, but these teams are generally comprised of players who simply aren't at a level high enough to compete in the major leagues. Every so often you get a female player or two in the amateur or development leagues, but they don't generally stand out enough to be realistically promoted to a major league team.

In all four major regions, there has only ever been one female player who competed at the top level, that being Remilia, a trans girl, whose story is brutally tragic. She was manipulated and abused by the owner of her team, Chris Badawi, who provided for her a botched gender-reassignment surgery that left her with permanent pain for the rest of her life, until she died by suicide some years later. As you might imagine, any fan discussion on Reddit that even tangentially involved Remilia was a graveyard of posts deleted by moderators. The prejudice there, sadly, is about as rampant and overt as possible.

This post went pretty long, especially since I haven't actually seen the show you asked about and wasn't able to give any more specific thoughts on it. Hopefully, though, this provides a bit more context to the strange and complex regional and racial identity issues in the scene.

[sunny-day-dream]

music daddy and sunny daddy is perfect, can we get some hs about them as actual dads as well :o

(///∇///✿) Big man holding small baby. Very cute.

Send tweet.

--

DJMM

🎶 Did he get the baby headphones and glasses to match his own? You bet your ass he did. Did he also get them a tiny, prop mixing table to set on their lap (so he could take 10000000 photos, much to your amusement)????? YES. HE DOES NOT REGRET IT.

🎶 Have you ever seen this guy mulittask? He is the KING of doing 10 things at once- most of which involve keeping your child occupied and out of trouble.

(You've once witnessed him rock a baby to sleep, prep a bottle and also give your nose a playful 'boop'. All at the same time.)

🎶 That moment of sheer panic where you can't find your child, so you look to DJ and he just. Opens his fucking mouth. And there they are, enjoying the lightshow.

He thinks it was hilarious.

SUNDROP

🌻 He will literally drag both you and your child into a cuddle pile at any moment, please stay on guard if you don't want to be beaten down by two sets of puppy dog eyes (Your child learned it from Sun very quickly, and they're absolutely lethal when paired together. You stand no chance.)

🌻 The look on his face when he sees you both playing quietly together!!! He'll just pause on the other side of the room and smile like a lovestruck fool as your child laughs loudly, calling him over to join in.

He happily does.

🌻 He's made scrapbooks of every milestone or moment he found worth memorializing. You had to step in and tell him to calm down after he went through 7 books in 3 days.

Now he just saves the pictures to the buildings private servers...the poor staff just have to deal with the lag it causes.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (April 7/2021) - Banquet Invitations

The Eggpire is busy with preparations for the coming feast. After discussing with the Egg, Antfrost and Bad have decided that it would be best for the Egg’s reputation to clean up the Blood Vines over the server.

They go around, offering invitations to a few important guests...

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Nihachu

Foolish

Philza

Wilbur

Ranboo

Badboyhalo

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk continues to work on his project, and plays an audio sneak peek of his upcoming story:

“Who is Ponk? A question that holds many answers, none quite right, yet all showing a glimpse into a grander truth.

To sum: he is a traitor. Corrupted by a lust for power, and the burden of uncountable betrayals. To others, he is a life-giver and trusted ally. In many ways, he is all these things, within the ever-shifting alliances and world-changing events that occur within the SMP. Ponk is always there in the forefront, influential in ways both obvious and subtle. 

But before all this, before the reign of the Egg, or the massacre at Manberg, he stood as one of the founding seven. These tales I will share with you today are those of the bygone times...before two Lemon Trees burned away his heart. Before his once-friend took his arm. A time even before he wore a mask.

Now gather close, and listen to these old man’s words, and let us delve deep into the legends that have brought us to where we are today...”

- “Tip Tup” visits the Arctic to see Phil and finds out that Avondeten has died. He is heartbroken. Top Ten Tip Tup Trauma Moments.

- Tip Tup and Phil hold a funeral for Avondeten. Tip Tup hired Fundy to give a funeral speech in Dutch

- After the solemn speech, Tip Tup chows down on Avondeten. Rest in peace. 

- Tip Tup and Phil get a rabbit and talk to Ranboo.

- Tip Tup is an endocrinologist.

- Tubbo arrives. That’s a Top Ten Tip Tup Tubbo Moment.

- Tip Tup blips out of existence. He is no longer in tip top Tip Tup shape.

- Tubbo is in a hole. They attempt to get him out with no luck.

- Tubbo makes noises. 

- They push Tubbo out of the hole with water and Tubbo gets into a boat with Ranboo and spins around. Tubboat.

- They find a baby slime. Tubbo names it Squishy Fuck.

- Phil, Ranboo and Tubbo hang out in the Arctic. Tubbo tells Phil about his Soviet radiation horror dreams.

- Bad makes plans to give out invitations to people for the Red Banquet. 

- As they prepare for the feast, Bad and the Eggpire have been trying to clean up the server. The Egg has a poor reputation. They discussed it with the Egg and decided that they were coming across too intense, so they have been making peace and cleaning up some of the Blood Vines as a sign of good faith. The Egg has given them permission.

- He demonstrates this by removing a vine.

- Antfrost comes over. They notice that Foolish and Sam are online.

- They remove the Blood Vine off of the flower shop. The Egg approves.

- They head down to the spider spawner and the Egg Room. Bad explains that they may have been been a little too hard on people. 

- Antfrost shows him the Red Banquet decorations. Bad says they may have to clean up a bit in the Egg Room.

- At the end of the Red Banquet, everyone will come away loving the Egg. Everyone will be happy. 

- The Egg doesn’t mind that it was covered in a colorful shell. It’s like putting on new shoes. 

- The banquet is going to be “mind-changing!” So much fun! They head back up to find Sam, thinking he might be at the prison.

- They go over to the prison. The Egg just wants to get along with everybody. The Egg doesn’t hate; it appreciates.

- They meet Sam at the prison entrance and say hello. Sam is holding a clock. Bad and Ant invite him to the banquet. It’ll be fun -- they’ll chill, they’ll party, maybe have some bacon. They tell Sam the party will be held underground near the Egg.

- Sam is skeptical, but Bad says that the Egg wants to say sorry and make things right. Sam starts to come around to it. 

- They hand him a block of redstone as a temporary invite. They don’t have proper physical invites at the moment, but Sam says he’s down to go to the banquet. 

It’s a “burying the hatchet” type deal. Sam thinks he would like that.

- He hands the two of them several books and quills, explaining that he confiscated them from Dream and they can have them.

- They’ll bury the hatchet in the ground and turn over a new leaf.

- A baby zombie on a chicken runs over. Sam swiftly kills it.

Sam: “There, now no one had time to get attached.”

- Sam says he has a lot of work to do, and he’ll see them soon.

- Next, Bad and Ant decide to reach out to Foolish. They meet with him at Snowchester.

- They’re there on the Egg’s behalf, and would like to extend to Foolish a heartfelt apology for stepping overboard, and they’re there to bury the hatchet, say sorry and give him an invitation to a party.

- Foolish points out that they celebrated Tommy dying in his hotel room. Bad and Ant want to let bygones be bygones and apologize for going too far. The Egg has recognized that it has done wrong.

- Foolish says that while he doesn’t quite accept their apology yet, but he’ll give them one final chance. Bad says they just want to turn over a new egg.

- Foolish says that if anything happens, he will not hesitate to split the Egg open with a lightning bolt. Bad assures him that there will be no surprises, just dancing, partying and food. It’ll be a fun feast.

They give him a temporary invitation.

- Bad and Ant leave. Bad accidentally calls Antfrost “Skeppy” in a slip of the tongue and then explains that he was just thinking about Skeppy, whether to invite him too.

- They wonder if Puffy is available.

- They clear out some more Blood Vines. There’s just been a misunderstanding, and everyone’s making the Egg to be some kind of monster when really, the Egg just wants what’s best for the server. 

- Puffy logs on and they speak with her at her house, inviting her to the banquet too. They say it’ll take place down by the Egg. They explain to her that they just want to make amends and bury the hatchet.

- Puffy says she’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. Bad hands her a temporary invite.

- The food will be to die for! Not literally, though, of course...

- Puffy says she’ll be there. They’ll talk to her later.

- They leave. Bad is excited for the banquet. 

“I promise that everybody who shows up...is not going to be the same when they leave."

(The lore section of the stream is over)

- Bad and Antfrost play around with Drista’s staircase and notice all the pranks on Bad’s mansion

- Fundy logs on and goes AFK on the Prime Path. Bad and Ant get the idea to prank him by pushing him towards the museum. They dig a hole down to bedrock and push him in, then fill in the hole and return to the surface, leaving him down there.

- Fundy appears on the surface while they’re not looking, appearing to still be AFK, and the two are perplexed. They do it a second time.

- They get suspicious and start digging down as they notice Fundy’s nametag isn’t showing. They reach the bedrock and Fundy is nowhere to be seen. They return to the surface only to find Fundy has reappeared there again.

- They dig a new shallow hole and put Fundy in it, only for Fundy to move again while they’re not looking.

- Ranboo logs on and comes over and covers the hole with grass. Out of sight, out of mind.

- Bad boxes Fundy in with blocks with signs on them so that if Fundy breaks the blocks, they’ll be able to tell.

- They check a couple times, but it seems to have worked, and Fundy moves no longer. They decide it must be lag.

- Bad goes to watch the Sad-ist animation but then Fundy reappears on the surface while they’re not looking again, and all of the blocks and signs seem to be intact.

- They put Fundy in the hole again and Bad adds more signs.

- Bad reacts to the Sad-ist animatic with the video playing in the corner of the screen so that he doesn’t look away from Fundy.

- The first time, the volume on the video is too loud, so Bad tabs out to set it up again. Antfrost was supposed to watch Fundy, but when Bad tabs back in Fundy has appeared right in front of him. 

- Bad boxes Fundy in again with diorite and stands on top of it so that he’d hear if Fundy broke any blocks and reacts to the animatic a second time.

- Though blocks can be heard breaking during Bad’s second watch, when Bad tabs back in to check on Fundy, Fundy is still there. Antfrost left, though.

- Bad opens the box. Was that torch always there?

- He covers the box back up and goes to end stream, satisfied. But before he does, he checks one more time. The torch is gone.

- The next time he looks, there are two torches.

- Bad stands on top and breaks the roof. Fundy’s head has turned to stare straight at him, unmoving.

- Bad repeatedly places and breaks the block. Fundy’s head moves to look at him whenever the block is broken.

- Bad breaks the block one final time. Fundy turns his head slowly to look at Bad for a moment before logging off and disappearing.

- Bad runs away to end stream.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Alright, chapter 8! And man is there a lot to talk about here. I don’t really have any pre-content things to say, so we’ll just hop right into it today!

[No. 8 - Rage, You Damned Nerd]

I swear, this first page has a LOT to talk about on it, so I’ll go from panel to panel and do some rambling thoughts on each segment. 

First off, UA doesn’t actually handle the costumes the kids get! It’s support companies affiliated with the school that does - which makes sense, since the school has to focus on teaching their support students before letting them get their hands on actual costumes that these kids might be fighting in.

I mean, they seem to be allowed to practice on like, minor support stuff (read: Mei making Izuku his new gloves post-Nighteye or somewhere around there) but not full costuming, which is… actually a bit reassuring? But also explains some of the lag time in getting costume repairs / upgrades since they’re probably busy companies. It also explains why there probably aren’t major alterations to any costumes besides between the summer and winter variants, since it would be time-consuming to remake these costumes so regularly.

(It still doesn’t excuse some of the costumes the kids got, but that’s more on the whole ‘eye candy’ thing for readers than actual practicality, so whatever.)

(Also, I can’t get over the fact that Snipe has a support company. Fucking Snipe. Guess we know another canon or likely-canon Support teacher.)

Next we get a preview of what the kids sent in for specifications for their costumes:

We get a bit of insight into a few of the characters - as background stuff, we get Shouji, Mineta, Aoyama, and Sato. Mineta got pretty dunked on for char design and costuming, and Aoyama’s costume almost looks like a magical girl outfit like this, which honest to god would have been fantastic to see him in. More interesting (at least to me) are the other three: Ochako, Tenya, and Katsuki.

Ochako first, because that pressure point thing is interesting, and I dunno how often those actually come up in fics besides a passing mention, like. What if her support bracelets / neck piece broke during training / a mission / whatever? Would she suddenly have to fight through the nausea? By the point of current canon (War Arc) she’s probably trained enough that she doesn’t need them as much, but man, it could be an interesting little thing to explore, like, post-Kamino.

Tenya is a bit surprising, since we know he comes from a well-off hero family. Logically, this was before the whole Hosu / Ingenium plotline was really developed, so Tenya didn’t have that to fall back on, or it could be argued that the support company that Ingenium is associated with also works with UA. Alternatively, it could be that either Tenya didn’t want to rely on his family (which seems silly when they’d know how to work with his quirk best) or UA is very firm on ALL costume stuff going through them…

But then again, Katsuki. Oh god, Katsuki. What fucking support company looked at this kid and went ‘yeah we should give him a way to store more explosives AND give him bombs’ and just. Did so. Why did UA not vet that. Maybe the support company didn’t realize how strong his explosions were without the gear, but UA, man, I just. I suppose they had no way of knowing how reckless he’d be with them, but honestly, after the battle trials, they should have been fucking yoinked from him so damned fast. 

Anyways, onto other parts of Katsuki’s costume, we see he’s a fucking dork. Possibly what lowered their guard. ‘Something scary’ and ‘Dynamighte all over’. What the hell, kid. At least your designer stuck close to your design… including the huge-ass clunky gauntlets. Man, the Musketeer Trio movie poster ones are so much better looking and so, so streamlined. Works of art, they are.

Moving on, we get a bit of a flashback to ~three weeks ago, which by the calendar would be around March 20th? So a few weeks after the Entrance Exam. And Izuku is only NOW getting around to updating the quirk registry? Izuku baby seriously, how the FUCK did none of the UA staff notice the ‘quirkless’ on your application form at any point before this?

But yeah, he’s worried about his registry, so he calls Toshinori, who explains the update process. It gives the example of someone who might alter their stuff with updated information, with one or two allowed - though major ones aren’t accepted. Toshinori then says it’ll probably be okay since he started with nothing, then tries to correct himself to ‘definitely’, only to get cut off because Izuku accidentally hangs up in a panic when Inko calls out that she’s home. Haha poor Toshinori, and poor Izuku, the two anxious dumbasses. 

Anyways, moving on from that is Inko showing off the jumpsuit she made, with Izuku surprised. She admits it’s not the coolest, but she based it off of the design in his notebook (the one we saw back in chapter 1). She tells him she regrets giving up on him back then, and how he never quit regardless of her faith. She apologizes and says from there on she’ll be cheering him on with all she’s got. 

Izuku’s narration notes that it’s a symbol of his mom’s love, and that he couldn’t wear anything else, even if it’s not ‘efficient’ or ‘cutting edge’. (Or even at all decent looking.) And it’s also hinted through the present thoughts on it that it’s meant to be an homage to All Might (the smile and the hair pieces) which is just such a dorky thing.

We get to the wide-spread of hero costumes, which- wait a second.

That’s Momo’s initial hero costume design???? Why did Hori not stay with that??? It’s a LOT better than the stuff we’ve seen her in later! Like, sure, it’d still be improved with the main opening being her stomach and not her chest, but this still looks like actual human clothing and not a sexy Halloween costume variant of her hero uniform. Fucking hell, now I’m even more mad.

Tsuyu’s costume meets the approval of the discord server as basically ‘no changes needed’ asides from maybe the goggles being a bit bulky.

Tenya’s costume, I’m sorry, I know it’s an homage to your brother / family, but were the additional pipes really needed? Also, the helmet isn’t a bad idea since he goes fast, and bugs in the mouth/teeth have to suck, but it just looks so damned Gundam-y I can’t help but laugh a little.

Shouto… nah, too easy a target.

Aoyama is Aoyama. I’m actually a bit disappointed now that it’s not a magical girl costume, but alas, I suppose even Hori couldn’t be that brave.

Kaminari… I forgot he had that headset thingy. 

Don’t really have much else to say about anyone else, so let’s move on.

Izuku bugs out a bit about Ochako’s costume/appearance, while she compliments his more practical looks and laments not being specific, saying it’s a bit too puffy and curvy for her. Which means it’s more the accessories which seem to be her issue with it over the main costume itself? Huh.

Anyways, after All Might confirms they’re all there, he notices Izuku’s headpieces, which are a match to his costume, and has to turn to muffle a laugh for how obvious a reference it is. Tenya steps up, asking whether they’ll be doing cityscape maneuvers again since it’s the same field used in the entrance exam. Izuku thinks to himself how cool Tenya’s costume is, while All Might explains that they’re moving onto step two - indoor anti-personnel battle training!

He explains what while villain battles are most commonly seen outdoors, statistically the worst crimes and villains are more likely to be found indoors. Confinement, house arrest, black market deals… the clever villains luck indoors to avoid heroes. Which is why the class will be split into teams of two and pit against each other, heroes versus villains style!

Ah, Tsuyu. Calling him right the heck out, as expected. All Might then notes that in this scenario, the fight won’t be against disposable robots. 

This entire page is just fucking hilarious. The class and all their questions while All Might is shaking with nerves. The fucking cheat sheet he uses to try to get back on track. Him being questioned on the lot drawing, and shaking while Izuku accidentally ends up covering for him. I just. All Might was not prepared for this mess and it shows. He was doing so much better when it was the one on one stuff with Izuku.

But yeah, Izuku notes the scenario is like from a western comic plot, and he’s also the one who ‘realizes’ the lots are like when heroes from different agencies have to team up for emergencies without prior warning. 

Lots are drawn, and we have our teams:

Izuku’s so stressed out because he still can’t really talk to her, while she’s excited to be teamed up and calls it ‘fate’ that it happened. All Might draws the first two teams to participate, and… team Izuku and Ochako (as the heroes) versus team Katsuki and Tenya (as the villains). Both Izuku and Katsuki are alert from this development��

Which makes this a good point to cut off, since it’s halfway through and we got a lot of information to chew on already. Second part should be out this weekend (hopefully). 

[bugmomwrites]

Astragalus Tea & Soft Company (Juzo Honenuki x Reader)

Astragalus flower meaning: You soften my pain

Thank you for 100 followers and counting!

FUN FACT: This was actually for the Bnharem server collab, and the prompt was Flowers. I was hella late for this one due to things that popped up BUT my friend’s awesome stories are linked below, so check them out too!

https://jojosmilktea.tumblr.com/post/618831496637300737/this-is-a-sfw-choose-your-own-collaboration-by-the

I ended up whipping something together like a day before the deadline and almost having it done- and then I forgot my family came up to visit. My state has eased up guidelines a bit, and since I haven't seen them since my grandma’s funeral at the end of last year, I wanted to spend some time with them before they go home. As a result I kind of didn't have the time to polish it and post on schedule. Better late than never? Anyway here's some food for you Honenuki stans cause my boi needs more love. Takes place in their third and final year- their long history of friendship is important and comes up.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Language, vomit (brief scene), nudity (nothing happens but still)

After sharing classes for God knows how long, Juzo Honenuki could confidently say he knew just about all of your little idiosyncrasies and habits. You were one of his closest friends after all, even having gone to the same middle school. You both got in on recommendation, and the two of you were now in your third year of UA. He knew you liked to watch older memes from years ago, still quoting Vines as far back as 2013. He knew you’d flap your hands a bit whenever you got excited or nervous. Lastly, he knew you well enough to know you didn’t just get sick out of nowhere- it had to be a result of your poor sleeping habits as of late, ultimately catching up to you and taking a toll on your well being.

The other night he could hear you shuffling in your room across the hall until about 4:30 in the morning, and upon seeing your current state he mentally kicked himself for not nipping it in the bud weeks ago.

How you managed to retain the energy to function in class every day was a mystery in and of itself, but you for one thought you were doing an ​awesome​ job at balancing late night productivity with biological needs. Honenuki just so happened to live in the dorm room right across from you, often bearing witness to your bizarre nightly routines first hand. It never bothered him too much; he knew academics were tough and sometimes people needed a bit more time to study or indulge in their hobbies. So for a while, he thought nothing of the shuffling noises, or the light coming from under the crack of your door at some unholy hour. If he held his breath he could even make out some soft curse words uttered by you among other various sounds. 

He knew you were up to ​something,​ but as much as he wanted to check in on you, there was a strictly enforced curfew, and it wouldn’t look too good if someone caught him sneaking in and out of his friend’s room in the middle of the night; nevermind that you were a girl. He resorted to just shooting a quick text, hoping you’d take a hint and maybe get some shut eye. His phone pinged not a minute later, and he shook his head in disappointment at the notification.

Read: 3:36am

By week two he began to notice you lagging behind in sparring, and even stopped to ask you about it- something that took you a bit by surprise considering his normally competitive streak- but you had dodged the question completely, dismissing his concerns and attempting to get back to the match at hand. He didn’t want to press, but if you said you were fine- so be it, he wasn’t one to hold back. He trained with you for about twenty or so more minutes before he noticed your reaction time slowing down exponentially, and even swaying side to side towards the end. You hunched over and rubbed your temples in pain, and in a moment he found himself cradling your head towards him, even softening the gym floor a bit in case you teetered off to the ground. He could see the bags under your eyes, so after scooping you up completely, he went off to Recovery Girl.

Said nurse confirmed that your tiredness was, in fact, a result of the all nighters Honenuki would catch you pulling multiple times per week.

“You should listen to your boyfriend! He only wants you to be healthy,” said Shuzenji.

Of course you only heard bits and pieces, already dozing off on the cot. He cleared his throat, teeth clacking when your head fell onto his shoulder. If he was already tense before, he was a full-blown statue by now, and the poor boy prayed he didn’t look like a tomato. He went to correct the nurse, talking carefully so as not to disturb you.

“We’re actually just friends, ma’am. I just happened to know about it because my dorm is right across from hers, and I can see when the lights are on under the d-” She cut him off, whacking him in the shin with her cane.

You tumbled onto the cot, somehow managing not to wake up from the impact. Honenuki could only sit there slack jawed as the older woman continued her tirade.

“You’re still close to her! Don’t be afraid to nag a little bit. But hopefully this should be a lesson. I’ll write you a pass.” And so, Honenuki took one last glance to where you lay curled up and at peace for the first time in a while, and saved that memory to his brain when Shuzenji offered the scribbly post it note to the blushing boy. He nodded in thanks, and briskly made his way out.

“Please get some rest, I hate seeing you like this.”

~~~

Did you learn your lesson that day? Apparently not. He still told you now and then to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and as much as you appreciated the care from the boy you loved, his warnings fell on deaf ears. This pattern persisted for a while, where you’d wake up exhausted and have him lecture you, only for you to ignore his advice. Rinse and repeat. You knew he meant well, but after one particularly bad day you couldn’t help but snap at him. Honenuki still remembered it vividly, seeing most of it firsthand in your shared class:

Another Monday morning. You were tired, and that was an objective fact. You already knew it was your fault, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t just go to bed early one night and hope it would undo all the self-inflicted psychological damage. You had already formed a habit, and it was something that could only be fixed over a period of time, little by little.

That day was particularly rough- Vlad kicked off the morning by giving the whole class a pop quiz, which you were sure you bombed horribly. Afterwards, you weren’t alert enough during training, which gave Tsuburaba an opening to catch you off guard and knock you to the ground ass first. It was a short fight, and he wouldn’t stop bragging to his friends about his quick victory.

“That’s a victory royale, bitches! Three years of UA and I finally beat (l/n)!”

To add an insult to injury, he was doing Fortnite dances (in mid 2020, no less), while whooping and hollering. You wanted to be happy for him, maybe even congratulate him on a good fight, but he was too damn obnoxious and by that point you just wanted the class to be over. The bastard didn’t even help you up, so you could only glare at him from your place on the floor. On the way back from the USJ, you got stuck on the bus seat between Monoma and Kamakiri, the former screaming from his own seat behind you to pick a fight with the hotheaded boy two rows up.

“Listen man, I’m just saying, if I wanted a teammate with the same abilities and none of the death threats I got from you on a daily basis, I’d tape a couple of knives to a Roomba and let it loose on class A.”

Kamakiri, however, was having none of it, so the next time Monoma leaned over your backrest to yell in his ear he was greeted with a swift punch in the throat. It sent him tumbling backwards and he released your backrest, but not before Kamakiri’s quirk accidentally left a clean gash on your forehead as you tried to duck down from the crossfire.

The howling laughter and “oh shit! Monoma’s fucking dead you guys!” from Setsuna did nothing to ease your headache, and as much as you wanted to give the two boys a piece of your mind, you didn’t particularly have a death wish. So you opted to seethe quietly, applying pressure to the wound until you could patch yourself up at the clinic.

When you arrived, the nurse was on lunch break, so you had to haul ass all the way back to the Class B dorms in the rain, do a walk of shame through the common room where many of your peers congregated at that time, and pray that you could find some sort of first aid kit in the bathroom. As expected you were bombarded with questions, but you dismissed them quickly, making your way over to the ladies room.

One alcohol wipe and a few butterfly sutures later, you tried to sneak back to your room for some sort of respite from what ended up being a trainwreck of a morning. You were almost in the clear when you bumped into someone you really, really didn’t want to deal with. Juzo. Normally, you’d be relieved to see him, possibly even thrilled. Alas, you just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts, at least for the time being. But in a matter of seconds he was all over you, much to your chagrin- especially since you were already on the verge of tears.

“Are you okay? What happened? Maybe you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine, Juzo, it’s nothing. Just tired.” He frowned, having been here before one too many times with you. You looked like you would break down any second, and when that happened, he didn’t want you to feel alone. He loved you more than life itself, but if he couldn’t even be there to pick you up when you fell, what kind of friend would he be? Certainly not your best one, that was for sure. He figured he should tread carefully, knowing how much you hated crying in front of others. With a sigh he reached out, hesitantly running his thumb along the underside of your cut.

“Have you tried going to bed at a decent hour? I know I sound like a broken record, but-” Having enough, you slapped his hand away out of reflex, your teary (e/c) eyes now burning with rage at his words. Gentle, well-meaning words you’ve grown accustomed to hearing for the past few weeks being the final thing pushing you over the edge.

“I said I’m fine Honenuki! My sleep habits are my business, so why don’t you leave me alone. Don’t you have anything better to do?!” You did a full 180, lashing out and raising your voice loud enough it would traumatize even Present Mic. You were a ticking time bomb from the moment you woke up that day, and Honenuki was the poor soul that just happened to cut the wrong wire.

Honenuki visibly flinched at the use of his surname. Coming from anyone else, it was just a friendly acquaintance giving him a warm greeting, or making small talk. Coming from you, however, it felt...cold. Unfamiliar. You had been calling him Juzo since you both were fifteen, forging a camaraderie after the summer camp incident and growing closer ever since. He could only blink in shock at your outburst, unable to find anything to say as his mouth went dry. You stormed off, slamming the door to your room and shaking the floor beneath him, leaving him standing there with mixed signals and a heavy heart.

Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be paying the consequence, so he really shouldn’t have been so surprised when he got a message from you less than a week later. The news came to him just before he arrived to his first class of the day, and upon reading your text, he mentally facepalmed at your stupidity. Your bad sleeping choices- coupled with the freezing rain from that fateful day- had finally caught up to you, knocking you out with a nasty bug. It was the first time you had reached out to him since then, and even if he didn’t take anything too personally, it was a little odd for you to ignore him and follow up out of the blue without closure.

(Y/N) 8:30am: Can you please tell Vlad I can’t make it to class today? I feel like utter garbage. You'll never guess why ;-;

Juzo 8:33am: Ugh! I knew it! >HHHH<

(Y/N) 8:35am: In all fairness, maybe it’s just from the rain and not my piss poor bedtime routine...?

Juzo 8:36am: Stay put. I’ll be over after class.

(Y/N) 8:38am: Cool beans. Btw I already took some nasty ass cough medicine so please don’t make me take another dose for a few hours.

Juzo 8:39am: Fine. You better take it without any arguments when it’s time.

-and with that he clicked his phone off, waiting anxiously for the bell to ring. He took an extra set of notes for you, because you had insisted ‘that’s what friends do’, and he needed to keep his mind busy. The next class was English with Present Mic, and he thanked whatever deity out there that he was bilingual. Popping in and letting him know the circumstances wouldn’t cause any harm, and he was sure Mic would be willing to get another copy of the notes.

9:30am couldn’t arrive soon enough, but as soon as Vlad dismissed the class, Honenuki made a beeline for the English classroom. He was making great time, and was sure he’d be the first one there. At least until he found himself barreling into the back of a familiar leather coat. He almost got knocked back from the sheer force and he quickly apologized, bowing his head when a loud voice stopped him in amusement.

“Woah, slow down there speed racer! Just try to be careful next time”, Present Mic laughed, and Honenuki looked up in relief to find his teacher on his way to the same destination.

“Mic-sensei! Perfect timing, I actually wanted to ask a favor. You know (y/n), my best friend? She’s sick in bed right now, so I was wondering if I could get an extra copy of the notes to bring to her? I’d write them myself but my hand is a bit cramped from doing two sets last class.” His teeth clacked nervously, hoping that he didn’t seem too desperate, especially since it could be misconstrued as something more.

Mic raised an eyebrow, and hummed in thought briefly. “Ah, young love. You’re my top student in that class so I’ll do you one better! Next period is lunch, so I’ll give you a copy real quick since the teacher’s lounge is right here. I’ll even let you leave a half hour early IF you promise to help me organize the new textbooks when the order ships on Thursday afternoon.”

Honenuki was thrilled, and nodded his head in agreement. A half hour later a hall pass was placed on the desk along with a photocopied set of notes, and he thanked Mic again, nodding gratefully before hurrying off to the dorms.

Honenuki rushed over to your bedside with a thermometer and a hot cup of tea, and you wanted nothing more than to apologize for giving him grief the last time you saw him when he was only looking out for your well being. You opened your mouth to speak.

“Juzo, I’m s-” You got cut off by a coughing fit, and he found himself rubbing comforting circles on your back before a mug was held out to you, almost like a peace offering. His eyes were soft and caring, and he muttered out encouraging words until you calmed down enough to notice what he had brought over for you.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re good. I brought you some astragalus tea. Yaoyorozu from class A said it was really good for pain relief and sickness. Shiozaki happened to have some fresh herbs growing too for brewing.” You accepted the cup gratefully, shaky hands attempting to take a tentative sip before you sneezed, spilling the hot beverage on your lap and wincing at the pain.

Honenuki panicked, fumbling for the cup and placing it on the nightstand beside you. While you knew Honenuki would never yell at you, you knew there was a pretty high chance he would at least give you a piece of his mind or even an ‘​I told you so’​. He was normally pretty laid back, so to see him so visibly worried was...jarring, to say the least. It probably didn’t help that you got teary eyed from the scalding hot beverage, and as much as you wanted to cry because of how much pain you were in, you didn’t want to deal with another post-sob migraine or stuff your nose up even more.

“I thought I told you not to stay up so late.”

There it is, ​you thought. Honenuki had told you time and time again that pulling all nighters would lower your immune system, making you more susceptible to viral infections that you may have otherwise been able to prevent with some proper rest. It was Friday morning too, and you woefully remembered that you’d have to cancel your plans for a girls’ sleepover in the dorms later that evening.

“What was so important that you had to sacrifice your hours anyway?” He chastised you gently, careful not to raise his voice too much as he put a hand to your forehead.

You sighed at your friend, leaning into his touch. His hand retracted much too quickly for your liking, and you had to take a second to compose yourself and provide a response.

“Video games...?”, you grinned sheepishly. You didn’t want to elaborate any more, hoping he would buy it.

Honenuki almost rolled his eyes at that. He knew you typically played online with a team, more specifically Awase, Tsuburaba, and Tetsutetsu. He also knew Awase had mentioned offhand yesterday that you hadn’t been on the raid team for almost a full week, and ‘​was wondering where the hell you disappeared to’​ . It’s not like you played a million other games either- you only got into it because they needed a full team of four once while Rin was away visiting his family.

“Try again, (y/n). I know you don’t dabble in much else besides Minecraft.” Defeated, you sat up, covered in sweat as your clothes felt like a layer of plastic wrap.

He began to absentmindedly rub your back, a habit which you normally found endearing, now serving as major comfort. His massages were hands down the best, and you often wondered if his quirk had anything to do with it.

“I’ll tell you all about it when I’m better, but everything hurts right now.” Honenuki nodded in understanding, and you both sat in silence for a few.

“I’m going to check your temperature. Is that okay?”, he looked at you with concern.

You hummed in agreement, and the next moment the cold metal was placed against your forehead, rolling down to your temples. You wished it was any other circumstance besides this one where his face would be close to you, because ​holy shit, he was so cute when he was focused​. If you weren’t sick as a dog you may have even had the courage to lean forward and kiss him on the teeth, but that may have just been your fever induced delirium. It beeped after about ten seconds, and he showed you the flashing 38.9°C on the little screen. From your perspective, you wondered how much of that was actually from the sickness, and how much of it was from nerves. He ruffled your hair before speaking again.

“Tell you what- go in and shower okay? You’ll feel leagues better, it’ll loosen your sinuses a little bit, plus you still have tea on your lap.” His teeth clacked as he chuckled good-naturedly.

You grumbled at the realization, and rolled out of bed to clean yourself up a bit. You left a big patch of sweat on your sheets, so Honenuki offered to run them to the laundry room and see if he could find some cough medicine in the meantime. You thanked him, your voice still raspy and gave him an affectionate headbutt before you left.

After you disappeared down the hallway with a towel, he got to work for a few minutes when his phone buzzed. Kurorio’s picture popped up on the caller ID, and Juzo unlocked his phone to accept the call.

“Heard your girlfriend’s not feeling too well?” inquired Kurorio.

“Kuro, hey man! Um, (y/n) and I are still just friends. Would be cool though.” Honenuki slapped a hand over his mouth at his wording, hoping that Kurorio would buy it (he did not).

“I’m just taking care of her for the time being, taking her temp, washing the sheets, you know?”. Kurorio hummed suspiciously, but changed the subject.

Honenuki pulled up the topsheet with both hands while balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he bantered back and forth with one of his classmates. Kurorio was cracking jokes about how much dogs in general look like their owners. Especially their homeroom teacher, Vlad King and his English bulldog.

“It's the underbite! I know the former doesn’t have the floppy jowls, but I just can’t get over the underbite!” he had said, as Honenuki was quick to mention the square shoulders probably didn’t help much either. The two of them broke into a fit of laughter as Honenuki bunched up the sheets and pillowcases into the comforter like a knapsack, about to make his way downstairs when something wooden was peeking out from between the top sheet and fitted one.

It was a simple embroidery hoop with some aida cloth stretched over it, and various colors of thread knotted and going every which way. He flipped it over cautiously, ​YOU SOFTEN MY HEART ​was stitched in neatly inside a simple little border of what looked like Astragalus blossoms, and a small tapestry needle dangled below the messier side of the work. 

Honenuki was intrigued- he never knew you could cross stitch! Of course it was nowhere near completion, but the black outline you started with was kind of a dead giveaway. It was like you blocked everything out first and built a foundation before finishing the more complex portions. It had to be planned out, the craftsmanship was too deliberate, too precise to just be done one stitch at a time while still maintaining consistent proportions. It was definitely a bit of an odd phase to copy onto what would likely be a keepsake, and he puzzled over the reasoning behind it when a wrinkled piece of graph paper under the bed caught his eye.

He smoothed out the pattern you had drafted so carefully, and he was thoroughly impressed at the detail in the work. But everything seemed to click in his brain when at the very top of the sketched out pattern were the words ​Birthday Gift: 06/20. That, and the post-it note on the side that said ​It’s for Juzo you lovesick bitch so make sure you practice, practice, practice!

Was that why you were up so much? Were you learning a brand new skill this far in advance to make something for ​him?​ His birthday wasn’t even for another month, but when it came to art projects, you were always planning and organizing to create the best results. He decided to set the pieces on your desk and went back to stripping the last of your bedsheets to take down to the laundry room. It would be a while before they were dry and clean enough to put back, so if you finished up before then, he figured he could just grab a couple blankets from his own bed right across the hallway.

“Huh, that’s really pretty”, he muttered absentmindedly.

Kurorio’s interest was piqued, and before either of them knew it, the conversation went back to (y/n) as Honenuki continued to tidy up for about ten more minutes.

“Yeah, I brought her tea, and sent her in to shower. She should be fine in a couple of da-“ THUD​. Seeing as how you two were the only ones in the dorms, the noise was no doubt from you. Honenuki paled, but tried to stay composed even though his mind was racing.

“You were saying?”, Kurorio was snickering on the other line, not even trying to hide his amusement.

He knew his friend had a growing crush on you, and as much as he wanted to tease him about it he knew Honenuki was stressed enough already.

“I’ll call you back.”

And with that Honenuki found himself clicking the “end call” button and booking it towards the bathroom down the empty halls of the dorms. He tried not to seem too worried, praying you just dropped a bottle or something. Still, when you were in such a state he couldn’t help the looming sense of dread that you had gotten hurt somehow.

“(Y/N)? Everything okay there?”

Silence.

He knocked again, only to be met with a pained groan from the other side. Common sense was thrown out the window as he turned the knob and found you sprawled out on the floor, face down, a little wet, but thankfully still fully clothed with the shower running. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or just confused, and if it weren’t for your labored breathing the whole thing would very much look like a crime scene.

He kneeled down to your level. “What are you even doing? I thought you were going to shower”, he asked softly as he tried to flip you on your side.

You blinked slowly, assuming fetal position as you responded.

“Water hot. Floor cold.” Just as you went to press your burning cheek back against the tile, a pair of arms scooped you up.

He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed as he set you on the countertop by the sink and helped you peel off your now soaked top, tossing it to the side. He took the hand towel hanging up next to you, folding it lengthwise and ran it under some cold water before holding it up to your forehead. Your normally healthy (h/c) hair was matted and smelled of sweat, and it looked like a real bitch to comb through. You seemed to realize just how much of a mess you were, and couldn’t help but feel tears of humiliation bubbling up. This didn’t go unnoticed by him though, and his brows pinched together in concern. Before he could ask what was the matter, you sighed ruefully.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this”, you muttered.

God, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. The man you’ve admired since day one was seeing you at rock bottom, and the shame was almost too much to bear. Honenuki, being the saint he was, just rubbed your back soothingly and told you not to worry. Still, there was a growing dread in the pit of your stomach, and you wondered why he was pitying you. Could things get any worse?

Indeed they could. Before you could stop yourself, the little bit of tea, as well as the crackers that you had consumed earlier somehow found its way back ​up ​and all over the front of not just you, but your best friend and longtime crush as well. There wasn’t a whole lot in your stomach, but the amount of it wasn’t what worried you- it was that you did it in the first place.

You started crying all over again, apologies spilling out of your mouth as you hyperventilated. This was it, there was no way he’d want anything to do with you now. He’d probably be too disgusted to keep helping you, and as soon as everyone got back to the dorms, word would get out, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. His stunned silence only made you more anxious, and you prepared for the worst when he took off his tee shirt and started wiping you off as best as he could. He put the soiled shirt into the corner before grabbing the wet towel and wiping off more of it, cleaning up the mess. Finally, he looked down at you, and squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

“It was an accident, (y/n) it’s fine. I’ll be right back”.

Now it was your turn to be stunned as you sat dumbly on the countertop for a minute until he reappeared with lysol wipes, a new towel, a jar of Eucalyptus mint soap scrub, and a fluffy bathrobe.

He turned on one of the showers, waiting for it to be a good temperature before turning back to you. “Go ahead and get in the shower. I’ll clean up.”

You didn’t have the energy to object as you shuffled over to the stall, peeling all your clothes off and getting in, albeit sitting on the floor- you didn’t want to risk falling over again. After a few minutes, you could feel your sinuses clearing a little bit. Enough for you to talk a sentence or two at least. After the events that transpired, you found some solace knowing that your best friend must ​really ​care about you to stick around and help you during a time like this. You remembered how he’d blush whenever someone asked if you were dating. You had nothing else to lose at this point, so your feverish brain made a bold decision and you stuck your head out to find him still waiting outside.

“I’m not gonna let you sit covered in vomit. And I know you’re too stubborn to leave my side to go wash up somewhere else, so get in here.”

Honenuki was at a loss for words. Was it really fair to you? You were the one inviting him in. But then again, you did have a point- he really did plan to wait it out. He’d do it a hundred times for your sake. Would it be weird? It wasn’t like you were toddlers anymore, whose mothers wanted to get a cute picture in a bubble bath- you guys were in your final year of high school, and if the note he found in your room was any kind of proof, you were just as in love with him as he was you...but there was no one else in the dorms, and the opportunity was practically handed to him on a silver platter. You were just a sick friend in need of help, right? Except you saw him as something more than that, he wasn’t stupid. And while in any other case an invitation to share a shower would be implying some sort of ulterior motive, he knew you well enough to know that you were genuinely looking to help him. Just with the added bonus of seeing a different side of you.

So he took off his shorts, opting to leave his boxers on just in case. He was silently grateful that the water was a colder temperature to ease not just your fever, but his racing thoughts as well. Keeping them on probably wouldn’t do too much to hide his arousal if they were going to get soaking wet anyway and just cling to him as a result, but at least this way he could keep it hidden from plain sight. He opened up the jar and passed it to you, which you gratefully accepted, but not before taking a deep whiff of the soothing scent. He sat behind you criss-cross applesauce, and gently took the plastic comb from you as you kept trying to yank it through your hair.

“Allow me”, he said, squeezing some shampoo out and lathering it on your head. Occasionally, the foam would fall onto your body and you’d have to flick it away with wet hands. These motions only made it that much more difficult for Honenuki to keep his eyes off your supple, soft curves. The slope of your back to your ass looked almost too inviting with the white suds cascading down in rivulets. He groaned inaudibly when you wiped a particularly large cluster of bubbles from off your chest, trying not to stare for too long.

He coughed, grabbing your attention. “Can you lean back more?”.

You tilted your head back, sighing in content as he massaged your scalp, taking great care to not get soap in your eyes. He reached for the shower head when you stopped him. You lathered up some shampoo and repeated the process on him, making sure to spike his hair up as high as you could. Then you did the same for yourself before you both turned to each other, and broke down into a fit of much needed giggles at how ridiculous you both looked. Maybe laughter really was the best medicine.

He rinsed your hair off and proceeded with the conditioner, combing it through one section at a time. It was one thing to absentmindedly play with the ends of it whenever the two of you were hanging out in close proximity, but to go through it so thoroughly and gently was surprisingly intimate, especially given your current scenario. Honenuki and you have been close for years now, maybe not quite since diapers but long enough for you to realize that he had already seen most (if not all) sides of you- and likewise, you of him. The man had somehow managed to stick by you through your awkward middle school years, to the rough days of early highschool and hero training, and even now when you were suffering the consequence of going against his advice.

You thought you were only crushing on him before, but after having him see you so vulnerable and ​still s​ tand by you, you realized the idea of spending the rest of your life with him sounded even more appealing than before, if that was possible. You, (y/n) (l/n), were in love with your best friend Juzo Honenuki, and after the events that transpired this morning, you were okay with that.

“So that’s what you use to get your hair to smell like (f/f)...” his thoughts were accidentally voiced out loud, breaking you out of your reverie. You nodded slowly, and the soft clack of his teeth was heard behind you. “It’s nice. I like it!”, he said more confidently this time before he picked up the bottle to read it.

“Thanks, you want some?”, you questioned hoarsely, but since your voice was still sore it was very difficult to be heard over the running water.

You didn’t get a response, either because you weren’t loud enough, or he was too absorbed in the words printed neatly on the bottle.

“Juzo?” He hummed in response, which you took as a yes.

If he let you use that fancy ass scrub for your illness, you figured the least you could do was share your leave-in treatment. Sharing is caring.

“Here, let me” You attempted to rotate yourself to face him so you could condition his hair too.

He glanced back up from the directions on the back, and you thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Dropping the comb he stammered, trying to maintain eye contact and not look down. He gulped, and all the words he had on the top of his tongue vanished when you plucked the comb from the wet shower floor and placed it on your thigh. You tried to reach a bit to get the conditioner bottle from him. This was a leave in conditioner, so your own (h/l) hair was still plastered down until it “set” for seven minutes. The excess dripped from the ends, down your back and shoulders, giving your body a light sheen. Your bare chest slid against his arm, and the bottle fell with a harsh clatter. He averted his eyes to look anywhere but at you, but it was kinda difficult when you were-

A. Naked

B. Feverish and flushed

C. Half straddling him

D. Covered in copious amounts of wet foam.

“Are you sure? I’m the one that’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around,” Your breasts were inches from his face, and Hoenuki swore he could feel his soul leaving his body when he finally had enough, frantically shoving the bottle in your hands.

“Juzo, you’ve helped me so much already, and it’s not even eleven am yet.” And with that he promptly shut his mouth and let you get to work on returning the favor. You squeezed out some onto your hands before rubbing them together. “Turn around and tip your head back- you’re taller than me and I can’t see.”

He normally loved massages (especially if they came from you after a long day of training), and how quickly your skillful hands would put him at ease, but he knew you weren’t really feeling your best today. He didn’t want to push you too far, but the sentiment was still appreciated nonetheless. You obviously couldn’t go for as long or apply as much pressure before your arms got tired and you started to ache a little, but you didn’t mind brushing his long, sandy blond locks. He was still grateful for the little bit that you were able to do, and you wondered how the universe could bless you with someone this sweet.

After seven minutes passed, Honenuki stood up and grabbed the shower head above you and rinsed out your hair, being extra careful to make sure each section was covered, and out of your face with a wide tooth comb in the other hand. You were still seated, and this gave him a bird’s eye view of not just your backside, but your front as well. He swore to himself he was only in to help you out, but ​fuck​, if you weren’t contagious he’d seriously consider taking you right then and there. You peered up at him through wet lashes, and to make matters worse you were nearly eye level with his straining erection. He was almost certain you noticed, but knowing you, you were too kind to comment on it. 

Eager to get out before things went south, or- god forbid- he did something impulsive he’d possibly regret, he quickly repeated the process on himself. After you were both rinsed, he switched the lever to “off” and turned to look down at you.

“I’m going to help you stand up, okay?”, his voice was calm, but assertive as he pulled back the curtains and stepped backwards out of the shower. Still seated, you spun around, and moved to push yourself up. You were halfway there when he threw a towel around your back and put his arms under yours. You suddenly felt more self conscious than ever, and as much as you wanted to drool over how toned he had gotten from years in the hero program, you couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of inadequacy at your own figure. You trembled slightly, fever chills slowly coming back now that the water was off, and your legs shaking like a baby deer.

“Juzo careful, I’m gonna sli-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you slipped on the shower floor and went tumbling forwards. Yet instead of meeting a face full of tile for the second time in the hour, you found yourself leaning into Honenuki’s protective embrace. Your breasts were pressed up against his torso, and you both found yourselves relishing the feeling of fitting together just right.

“You feel more refreshed?” He asked as he wrapped the rest of the thick towel around you.

You nodded, genuinely relieved that you were no longer covered in sweat, vomit, or tears. And you smelled damn good to boot. You still felt sick, but now at least you could heal comfortably.

~ ~ ~

“Your sheets aren’t ready yet, so you can sleep here for a little while.”

You were being carried into his dorm, wearing his fluffy robe that he had lent you after you had freshened up. He was originally just going to lend you some blankets, but he figured you’d be more comfortable in a made bed- that, and he could keep an eye on you. He went to set you down, but instead of letting go, you held onto him tighter. Honenuki glanced down at you, nuzzling into him for comfort and sighing softly. You were still a little bit warm, and your voice was raspy, but you seemed much better than you were just a short while ago. Now that you were showered and medicated (not to mention under the care of someone who’s presence just generally put you at ease no matter what), you felt like you could get better fairly quickly.

You didn’t know what you’d do without Honenuki at your side, and found yourself mumbling “please don’t go yet” when he tried to tuck you in.

Your request caught his attention, and he checked again for confirmation that he heard you correctly.

“You...want me to stay?”, Honenuki asked you curiously, a rosy hue growing on his face. The only response he got was an exhausted hum of approval, and a small nod.

“Am I some sort of alternative medicine? Can’t get enough of me?”, he joked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorably clingy you were when you were sleepy.

You were too sick to get flustered at his comment, and even if he did call you out on blushing, at least you could use your fever as an excuse.

“Alright, let me get something lighter. I know that robe is comfy, but you’ll bake yourself alive in it.” Reluctantly, you let go so he could go to his dresser drawer and find you some makeshift pajamas.

“I’m a hot snack, sorry. I gotta be wrapped up and baking”, you croaked out, smiling weakly.

It hurt like a bitch, but seeing the amused shake of his head and smiling eyes at your stupid joke was well worth it in your opinion.

He tossed a tee shirt and some boxers in your direction, and you sat up to slip the robe off. Almost immediately he whipped his head away from you so fast, you thought he’d get whiplash. It was rather cute, actually- he had already seen you naked not even ten minutes ago, and had known you for about a third of his life- but the way he cleared his throat and mumbled out a soft apology was one of the sweetest things you’ve seen from him. Your robe hit the ground and you slipped on the shirt first, before you moved to tug up the boxer shorts. Making sure everything was in place, you turned to your best friend. He still had his back to you, but you could see the very tips of his ears flushed scarlet.

Seeing him so flustered was still a relatively new sight to you, but adorable nonetheless. You took a couple seconds after you were dressed to just appreciate the sight before you, committing it to your memory. Honenuki sensed the silence that settled around the room, no longer hearing the shuffling of fabric behind him and cleared his throat before he spoke up.

“You’re all set then?”, for someone who was normally composed you noticed Honenuki’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, and he still refused to look at you as he had a hand blocking his peripheral line of sight. He was such a gentleman- you almost felt bad for flustering him so much.

“Yeah, thank you Juzo. I don’t have a bra or underwear, but if I’m being honest I think this is more comfortable.” You wanted to slap yourself for oversharing- while this fever was making coherent thoughts and common sense a bit more difficult, you couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at your lack of a filter.

Still, he plopped himself into bed behind you, pulling you into his chest and massaging your back. Your sinuses were still a bit clogged even after the shower, but his hands worked wonders when it came to easing your pain, and it didn’t take long for you to fall into a light slumber. You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes.

He could only hope that after you were fully healed, he’d be able to fully confess his feelings for you, and after how you two interacted that morning, he realized his friends insisting that you felt the same for him might not be so crazy after all. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment, as friends, because your friendship was more than enough for him if it meant he could have moments like these. The day he confessed would come eventually, right? You guys were definitely more than friends, it just wasn’t official yet. ​Someday​, he thought wistfully. ​Someda-

“Thanks for softening my pain, Juzo. I love you.”

‘​...!”​

His eyes shot open at that, and he briefly wondered if he heard you correctly. ​Of course she meant you, idiot. Who else would she be talking to? H​ e wanted to twirl you around the room with a resounding ​I love you too! I always have!,​ he wanted to scream it from the top of the rooftops, and celebrate once and for all, but just as quickly as you had uttered the words, you fell asleep in his arms, and he was certain you could hear his racing heart through his chest. It wasn’t from nervousness however- it was the sheer joy, the anticipation of when he could finally ask you to be not just his best friend but his ​girlf​ riend, from relief of knowing you would say yes.

He now had verbal confirmation that you felt the same. The ball was in his court now, and as soon as you got better, he was going to make up for so much lost time. Even though you couldn’t hear him, he pressed his teeth gently to your forehead and held you closer, drawing heart shapes on your back.

“I love you too, (y/n).”

~ ~ ~

Thank you so much for reading this labor of love! I’d love to hear your feedback, and I’m always open to new ideas <3

[flipsideds]

it’s all run amuck.

a server’s dropped two trays of fresh-baked scones, and the confections litter the floor like fallen leaves, purple-pink icing making the banquet hall look less like the site of a charity benefit and more like the streets of chilham mid-fall. it lights nostalgia beneath his ribs, and flip finds his lips tugging into a wistful smile.

but then a penguin-prettied guest clears his throat and arches a bristly brow.

“ right then, ” flip says with a curt nod. he clasps his hands, gaze sweeping one final dance across the sugar speckled floor. “ i’ll see to some replacements for you. ”  he forces a gentle smile –– the chasm between the man’s brows only deepens.

amuck indeed.

flip glides toward the kitchen. he’s a smooth-sailing afternoon cloud; light. airy. bloody nervous.

oh, dear.

flip allan bell has a case of the collywobbles, theodore, his old assistant would tease whenever he’d drop a bowl, tray, or spoon. the best baker’s hand he’d been, that one. it’s a shame he ––

flip blinks. thinks of flames, of ink black smoke. then tries not to think about anything at all.

quick fingers collect ingredients, combine. get to kneading. in here, there’s no clammer. no crowd. just sugar, butter, flour. a baffled baker’s best friend. he’ll forget the chaos, for a little while. he’ll close his eyes as he brings cherry compote to a simmer, and think of home.

or, alternatively :  greetings loved ones!! my name is linc ( 21 / est / she/her ) and here is the ever so lovely, ever so flighty phillip allan bell !

below the cut you’ll find a messy run-down of who he is, where he’s come from, and where he’s headed. i am so excited to write with all of you !!  he’s fresh out of the oven ( just ask nika ) so i am head over heels for watching him grow in the windy city !

toss on some nat king cole, julie london, billie holiday, chet baker & let’s get cookin’.

— && guests may mistake me as david corenswet, but really i am phillip "flip" allan bell + cis male + he/him/his  and my DOB is 02/29/1992. i am applying for the banquet manager position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite 201. i should be hired because i am + breezy, expressive, peaceable, but i can also be flighty, perplexed, vacillant at times. personally, i like to bake sweets, not hum along to nat king cole while dancing around my flat alone, and most certainly never wear trousers that are just a bit too short to show off my eccentric sock collection when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work. thank you for your consideration! 

h i s t o r y .

born in the small english village of chilham, phillip allan bell never knew his parents––but they took great care in stapling a note with his name, birthday, and favorite color to the blanket he was found swaddled in on the steps of the local market. ( phillip allan. 29 february. needs green. ) or, at least, that’s how flip tells the story. it’s unclear whether or not his parents’ chicken scratch called for green the color, or green the currency.

when phillip started speaking, he couldn’t properly say his own name. hence the nickname flip was born. the other children in the group home took to it easily, so the single-syllable stuck.

he spent the majority of his childhood in and out of foster homes throughout kent, always returning to the same group home after intervals of six months to a year. he began helping in the kitchen early on, so he became known as flip baker –– whether in foster care or the care of group home supervisors, flip always came to dinner with a new sweet treat for the others to try. people wouldn’t want to end their time fostering him because they loved the food. but in the end, the poor boy wouldn’t be adopted. reasons tended to ring much the same, “ oh, he’s lovely, really. what a sweetheart. just a bit too nervous for us, we’re afraid. ”

in fact, nervousness colored most of flip’s young life. from loud noises to spiders to fitting in, his mind always spun about endless possibilities –– quite rarely the good ones. the kitchen was the only place he truly quieted this tendency. he baked and cooked with steady hand, when he was alone. other folks in the kitchen with him would disrupt that cadence, but flip was never one to complain. he’d just fumble a bit, laugh nervously, and move along. he’s a remarkable chef –– and the kitchen always has ample marks to prove it.

shortly after turning 16, flip relocated to london. an older couple agreed to foster and adopt him as their own, but that stability was short-lived. they perished in an apartment fire just two months later. their youngest son, theodore, agreed to take him under his wing. at only 18, the two boys became fast friends. when flip decided to open his own bakery, theodore offered to be his assistant. from then on, the sweet by & by was born.

the bakery quickly rose to fame in the london area. people traveled from far and wide to try the legendary fruit scones, fresh cakes, and scrumptious sourdough. the bbc did a feature on the bakery for one of their london food series, and the sweet by & by began attracting tourists for something more than its treats :  its adorably frenetic baker. the kitchen was always spotted, his cheeks always dotted with icing or sugar. but he’d always greet customers with a molten-honey smile. tender green eyes. for years, the bakery prospered. flip prospered. he rose early to bake. he and theodore experimented with new recipes, danced around the kitchen to billie holiday, nat king cole... things were brilliant. radiant. whole. and then came the fire.

( tw: fire, death ) it happened while on a morning that was... well. most unusual. typically, flip and theodore would open the bakery together––3am sharp. they’d start preparing the day’s fresh goods, oldies playing softly on the stereo around them. but this september day in particular started off like no other: with theodore opening. alone. flip had stayed the night at one of his friends’ flats, unplanned. they’d hosted a housewarming party, and broken out his kryptonite: good bourbon. he’d drank more than his fill, and shot a text to theodore asking if it’d be alright if he started out the next day on his own. theodore agreed with a cheeky reply, getting some, are you, flip? right! as if. both men thought nothing of it. the opening, the slight shift in daily pattern. flip would be in by noon and business would carry on as usual. except flip always handled the faulty oven. on this particular morning, the device’s... quirks... slipped theodore’s mind. it took twenty minutes for the wires to start smoking. thirty minutes before theodore, swirling about the countertops with earbuds in, realized something was burning. on september 30, 2020 the sweet by & by burnt to the ground. and three days later, by smoke inhalation, it took flip’s dearest friend with it.

and that’s how it goes, innit? the story? the heartache? standing on the corner of upland and darrell road dressed in his funeral tie, squinting through scorched brick and metal like maybe, maybe if he stared hard enough, theodore, alive and well, might rise from the ashes. he didn’t. he didn’t, and flip visited the property each day for a week until he realized... he never would. he sorted through theodore’s personal affects. finally started his adopted surname, bell, as his own. he appeased reporters, for a little while. told the story, expressed how much he’d miss his best friend. his brother. but what about the bakery?, they’d ask. what about the sweet by & by? in the last interview flip ever did for the local stations, he reckoned perhaps that chapter, however sweet, was now meant to close. somewhere, online, there’s footage of him blinking through tears. twisting theo’s favorite ring around his own middle finger. green –– tsavorite. it means compassion, theodore had explained one night, after closing up. after they’d snatched a pint at the local pub and meandered on home. benevolence. beauty. somewhere, online, a reporter asks flip about that very stone. somewhere, online, flip pretends he didn’t hear it.

then came the bubble wrapping. the cardboard, packing tape. fingers rubbed raw from crinkling tape around itself, tearing it off, starting again. after theodore’s services, after relinquishing the bakery property to dulwich, flip packs his bags. he buys himself a nap, a pack of werther’s originals, and flees across the sea.

to chicago. the windy city. it’s always been circled on theodore’s map of america. that’s one i’d like to see someday, he’d say over a glass of bourbon. reckon they’re as tough as they seem? flip would always shrug, take a sip of his own drink. he didn’t know. but now? now, he would. on the plane, he spins theodore’s ring around his middle finger. even when he falls asleep, his forefinger and thumb stay there, shielding.

his initial thought is... perhaps he’ll open a bakery. but with the financial losses from the blaze, flip knows better than to embark on such an undertaking. so he does the responsible thing –– he finds a respectable job, at a respectable inn. the american experience, he hears theodore croon in the back of his mind, as he fills out his application. he’s jet lagged, distracted –– he doesn’t realize he’s checked the wrong box until the material’s been sent. and then he gets it. a banquet manager. oh, dear –– he hasn’t the faintest idea where to begin.

d i s p o s i t i o n .

born on a leap year. meaning he’s 28. but also 7.

for real footage of how flip handles himself in the kitchen, or just in general, check out this video. do i watch it daily? yes. did it inspire the general framework for flip’s frenetic kitchen tendencies? ...maybe. the chief difference lies in the result. things may crash and burn. it might look like it’s about to fall apart. but he always, always pulls it into a beautiful success.

he’s got a very deep-seated fear of fire. he’ll light candles in his flat only to flinch and snuff them out. if someone in the kitchen cooks with wine or vinegar and the skillet bursts into flame, he’ll look as though he’s seen a ghost. and he believes he’s subtle about it; oh, he truly does. but anyone with two eyes and a brain can piece together this man is very uneasy around flames.

he’s moved here with truly no plan, beyond experiencing chicago in all its glory, to make good on theodore’s dream. but as glorious and exciting as that is, he’s petrified. please help him.

there’s... a lot of unresolved traumas and sadness regarding his childhood. the bell family was the first to truly see him and give him, in all his anxious entirety, a chance. losing his last link to them has been... difficult, to say the least.

he’s a sucker for oldie music. god. it transports him. you can frequently find him in the malnati kitchens after hours whipping up something beautiful to a background of billie holiday or french classics. humming along, eyes closed, swaying... he’s graceful, truly –– when he’s not thinking about anything.

very terrible about crushes. very terrible about crushes on him. flirting sends his brain into overdrive and... often, he short-circuits. ask him a question about himself he isn’t expecting and he’ll handle it kindly, but will look like a deer in headlights.

amendment: more often than not looks like a deer in headlights.

peaceful at his core. but with the ruckus and the world raging around him, there’s always something more to worry about. if he gives you winnie the pooh vibes, it typically means he’s spinning.

he has a very delightful way of managing, mostly because he’s scared shitless of people being mean. he handles every blip and bump with ease. but inside? he’s fretting.

amendment: most often, he’s fretting. very little quiets his mind. baking, maybe. you can tell he’s having a shit time if he shows up unannounced with endless supplies of new recipes.

adores poetry. he likes reading in public spaces, people watching. he’ll often mouth the words to himself, brow furrowed, eyes lighting like he’s seeing suns rise and fall for the first time.

he’s been in love once in his life. her name was georgie. she was the epitome of breathlessness, milky sunlight, espresso brewed on a crisp morning. she was... not who he thought she was. ( she cheated, after two years of time spent together. he found them out, on a date, on an impromptu trip to brixton market for fresh supplies. )

pansexual and very aware of it. he’s in denial about people fancying him. but he very frequently develops small admirations for people, from afar.

6′4, very tall. his pants are always a slight bit too short. if you tell him, he’ll act surprised, the beautifully eccentric socks peeking out from underneath will suggest otherwise.

he’s never had a s’more. he can’t tell if he’s more intrigued or scared by the thought of them.

doesn’t like birds, particularly ones that swoop low. ( there’ve been incidents. ) he also doesn’t take a great liking to men in tall hats. ( another incident. )

make fun of his accent please i beg you. he does not know how to handle it. he’ll stammer and chuckle and it’ll be bloody amazing, i promise you.

c o n n e c t i o n s .

MAGNOLIA BARNES –– friend. they met during her time in london. neither of them are aware they’re in the same city now, let alone the same hotel. i imagine flip hasn’t told her about the bakery yet. it hasn’t really made news outside of england, so that will certainly be... a story to tell.

FLIRTATIONSHIP / SOMETHING MORE –– just imagine this nervous little bean navigating a new love connection... please... he’ll be a mess.

TOUR GUIDES –– ever wanted to show someone your version of chicago? now’s your chance! flip is so bloody new to this place. he gets lost almost always.

CONFIDANT –– they talk about anything and everything. perhaps not all of it. but there’s an unspoken trust between them. they likely met in the most unlikely of ways, and here we are now.

literally anything under the sun? oh my WORD it has been an epoch since i’ve rped and i’m just. here for any of it. all of it. cute neighbor shit. mailroom mishaps. friends. enemies. someone who keeps sneaking the last of the lobby mints. i want anything you want to throw at me!!

[starstress]

MCC Aqua Axolotls Live Commentary!

Hello, as said, I will attempt to write down my thoughts and reactions during the MCC. 

Stream links!!

False: https://www.twitch.tv/falsesymmetry

Ren: https://www.twitch.tv/rendogtv

Grian (yes, he’s streaming): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjkgnEi4t9g

Pearl: https://www.twitch.tv/pearlescentmoon

Updates will come as edits, so be sure to check this again every once in a while if you’re interested or just curious! 

To all fans, please be kind to everyone, no matter the team or who you wish would win. You will only embarrass yourself if you harass others or act immaturely and will gain no brownie points with those you follow and watch.

For now, may the games begin and the best team win!

-

Edit 1: Peeps are running a bit late, apparently, Ren is the only one on the team with no aqua colour XD Grian recoloured the headband that Smajor had made for him last stream XD

Andddd, we’re kicking off!!

-

Edit 2: The gong makes an appearance!! Also, the story of the gong!! Grian had bought it as a gag for whenever he and Mumbo record! The team loves it!

Countdown has finally started!

-

Edit 3: The first game is Skyblockle(?)!! Team ain’t feeling too confident about it, but we’ll see! I think they’ll be okay at this. Gri is reading the instructions and getting nervous XD

From now, everything will be under the cut. Warning, it’s really long.

Oof, wood fell in the lava. They still have more :)) They’re sharing tasks pretty nicely, I have to say, but they keep changing plans. Things will heat up quickly, tho, and I’m glad this game is gonna be out of the way soon.

First death in Skyblockle for the Aqua Axolotls: False! Second: Grian!

Doom is on the horizon XD

Rip, Ren has died too, and Pearl has gotten a couple of kills!! 

And the Axolotls are out!

First gong after a game. Rn we’re all watching the other teams. Dream team is holding up well. Techno’s team is out too. Last bid!

Endgame: Pearl has won the most coins, team is a bit disappointing by last place.

-

Edit 4: They have the Uno Reserve card as they were the worst team. 

Game: Bingo but Fast!

Gri is reading the instructions again. Someone in Pearl’s stream is watching 25 streams holy dandelions.

The team is again sharing tasks. This is pretty speedy!

Hearing Gri lament how speedy it all is is so funny. Also, they’re all like headless chickens and a lot more disorganized now. Poor team.

Endgame: Ren’s sweating in unspeakable places lol, but they’re not last anymore!

Pearl’s game just crashed, oh goodness.She’s back in, wooo!

-

Edit 5: Game: Battle box!

Gri is going for the middle. Pearl got so many kills!

First round won!!

Second round lost!

Third round won!!

Ren’s having a hard time breathing, and I gotta say same! 4th place rn.

Game was paused to stop the animations of the NPCs and we got another gong! we chilling for a few mins lol.

WE’RE ON AGAINST THE DREAM TEAM. Aww, the game needs to be reset or smt. 

Oh wow, draw for every team. Fourth round was skipped.

Fifth round - uh SERVER CRASHED

Wowie, the map looks really strange without the resource pack.

First hiccup in 7 event, dang. 

Starting again. Resource pack might no re-appear again. And now I’m laggy, lol

Round 1: lost!

Round 2: won! Gri with the tnt :D

Round 3: lost! tnt did not work this time

Round 4: unknown due to lag, oof.

Round 5: lost

Round 6: unknown 

Round 7: unknown

Round 8: unknown

Round 9: unknown (prob lost)

Place: Last.

Everyone’s laggy, including me lol.

The viewers are being encouraging, which is really great and wholesome!

-

Edit 6: Game: Big Sales at Build Market!

Team is confident about this one, wooo!!

Grian ended up in plants lol. Ughhh, diorate. Communication is key, and it’s very well done!!

They’re building fast and getting resources pretty fast, that’s good.

Grian listing what they need is *chef kiss* False being alert is *hearteyes* and the chats are the real mvps 

Endgame: Place 7. It was pretty intense indeed.

Break time!

-

Edit 7: Audience takeover!! Pearl wants Rocket Spleef, so does Techno. Dream wants Hole in the Wall.

Game: Rocket Spleef!!

Grian’s reading instructions :))) 

This will be intense as all heck. Countdown has stopped, huh.

Oof, apparently it was supposed to be Hole in the Wall, but can’t change. Gri’s prob not gonna have as great of a time as I’d hopped :P

Round 1: Rainbow map, False is out! :o The very first time! Team’s out right before tnt time! Place 6, nice.

Round 2: Uhh, Atoms map?? Grian and Pearl are struggling. Pearl’s out! Gri’s out! Ren’s out! False’s still going.

Round 3: Grian’s finally got the rocket jump. Jump and then launch :D Or maybe not XD Tnt time! Pearl is waiting down at the bottom. She fell, oof. Grian’s having cramps in his hand and, in his words, he’s ‘a goner.’

Endgame: False’s the master of Rocket Spleef! And place 6! Team really enjoyed it, I’m so glad :D

-

Edit 8: Team’s hoping for Ace Race, and it looks like it might be!

Game: Ace Race!

Grian is narrating for all of us, nice! “This is totally Sonic!” he says!

“’Your first time will probably suck’. Yeah, that’s been happening about the entire time!” lmao

Omg, the map is so cool!! Def a fan favourite!! The entire team is having so much fun yesss

All of them are really doing good, Grian and False are placing good.

“Techno, get outta my way!!” -  Gri, and I have to say, mood.

Grian got place 15! Right behind Techno, nice!!

Pearl is 32!

Ren is 35?

False is somewhere behind Gri, but way before Pearl.

Endgame: Everyone had one heck of a time and now they’re trying to find out how to make it in Vanilla Minecraft XD

Place: 9 

-

Edit 9: They dunked the Lime Llamas XDD

Game: Sands of Time

Oof, this one’s gonna be a maker or a breaker.

Oh goodness, they have no one watching the time D:

They’re banking coins, thankfully. 

Oh no, Pearl!! Sand is needed. Grian to the rescue!

Phew, three sand left, thank you Pearl for topping up!!

Intense, gosh, i’m really nervous about the sand!!

Oof, Pearl’s stream froze. It ended, oh no. Actually, it might just be me that has enormous lag (not smt new lol). 

There we go, slow but it’s something.

The sand!! Aww man, right as Pearl got the sand!! They’re out! At least they banked a lot of their coins.

Endgame: We got a nice gong. Place: 5! Overall place: 9!

-

Edit 10: My wi-fi is beating me up with a stick, and it’s unrelenting. Lag is my life now.

Last game: Hole in the Wall

Ren’s gonna have a bad time XD

Round 1: Pearl’s fallen, from what my laggy video will show me. Gri as well. They’re out!

Round 2: Pearl’s still alive, woo!! Glitched right through one, so cool XD

Round 3: lag.

Endgame: Ren’s raging, Grian is really amused by that XD Nice game!! 

-

Edit 11:

Overall place: 9

Time for the final battle!! Gong! Ren wants the gong as stream sound effect :D

Green Guardians vs Orange Ocelots! 

Grian supports Techno bc Techno said he liked him lmao!! The others are Green. 

Also fun fact: Grian could coach a match of dodge ball!

Round 1: Green wins!

Round 2: Orange wins!! Techno’s taking them out!

Round 3: Orange wins!

Round 4: Orange wins!

Grian: “It’s like one of those anime moments!”

Round 5: Green wins!

(Gri went off holy heck)

Congrats to the Green Guardians!!  

- 

Last edit of the night!

That was extremely fun to watch!! The lag and my own wi-fi made it a bit irritating at times, esp since I had to split my focus, but it was pretty good nonetheless.

It’s really sad that the Championship itself lagged so much, I have a feeling it left both a lot of viewers and players feeling frustrated as well. 

However, the new mini game was lots of fun and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing it a lot in the future. I really hope we will.

The team was really good, they managed to coordinate very well, but like many groups who’ve just started working together for the first time, there were times where they could’ve slowed down a bit and reconsidered their plans. Still, the important bit was that they all had a great time together.

Overall, I really hope Grian and Pearl will participate again, even if not on the same teams. I also hope that there will be more Hermitcraft members joining in, even if only for one Championship. I had tons of fun writing this as well, but I think I’ll switch back to occasional posts about amusing things that happen during the games, as it really took a lot of my attention from the mcc itself.

Hope whoever kept up with me or reads this later enjoyed/enjoys this. I’m off to bed now, I’m sleepy and I’ll prob wake up, read through this, and find 10 million little mistakes that I’ll die over. Future me, I deeply apologize, but, uhhhh, no regrets!!

Starstress out!

[sherrybaby14]

The Option I

A/N 1: This is a Dark!Bucky x Naive! Reader story.   While it will contain questionable consent it is not going to be as dark as some of my other stories.  That is not an invitation for those who are not comfortable with the topic to read, as much as it is an update for those who came to this looking for a very dark tale.  

Warnings: This chapter has none, but overall this story will be noncon/dubcon (Please Do NOT read if this offends you) 

Words: 4k

Summary:  While traveling through Europe you meet an unusual man under unusual circumstances. 

A/N 2:  This takes place in the same universe as “The Distraction”. You do not need to have read that to follow this at all though.  It is not canon-compliant but could be interpreted to take place after Winter Soldier and before Civil War.  

Did trains move this fast back home?  You looked out the window at the European countryside.  It was hard to take any of it in since the speed made everything a blur.

                You yawned and debated going back to your sleeping car, but your stomach gurgled and reminded you that you needed food. Besides, you’d been asleep for the last ten hours.  So far, this trip taught you that jet lag was a real thing.  

                From the moment you got off the plane in Paris, you were exhausted.  It took an hour to travel to the station, and three more until you boarded the train. You passed out as soon as you got to the teeny tiny private room your uncle had reserved for you.  

                The time change was messing with you almost as much as the travel itself, maybe more so.  To you, it felt like 10 am, but here the sun was setting and dusk was settling in.  You pulled out your phone and checked the time.  20:26. You did the math and realized it was already after 8 pm.  

                There was a text message from your uncle on the lockscreen.  

                Glad to hear you’re on the train.  My driver will pick you up in Istanbul in three days.  Safe travels.

                Visiting him was a good idea.  You needed family right now, and he was all you had left. The reminder made your heart hurt and you shut your eyes not wanting to relive the last month.  

                You wished he would have flown you directly into Turkey, but he told you that this was less expensive and would give you an opportunity to clear your head and enjoy traveling.  

                Another train breezed by and you jumped as the view of the countryside vanished.  

                “You mind if I sit here?”  A girl about your age slid into the booth across from you. “Sorry if I’m bothering you, but the dining car is starting to fill up.”  

                “You’re American?” You had heard a lot of languages being spoken, but this was the first English, it made you perk up.  

                “Born and raised in Colorado.  How about you?”  She gave a warm smile as she pushed her glasses up her nose.  

                You said your home town and glanced her up and down. She was pretty, with brown hair in a messy French braid, oversized glasses hiding doe-brown eyes, and no make-up to accentuate her natural beauty.  Beauty, it was almost like she was a model trying to dress down in her pale blue hoodie.

                “Never been.”  She held her hand out. “I’m Alice. What’s your name?”

                “Y/N.”  You reached out to shake. “I thought I wouldn’t find a soul to talk to until I got to my uncles.”  

                “Visiting a relative?  I’m studying abroad in Istanbul.  I wish I could have flown into Turkey, but the airfare was outrageous!” She rolled her eyes with over-accentuated movements.  

                “I’m going to Istanbul too.” You did an internal high-five that now you had a friend for the trip.  

                “Sweet, I have a buddy!” She reached out and squeezed your hand. “I’m starving.  Did you order yet?  What’s good?”

                “No, the server hasn’t come around.”  You grabbed a menu from the back of the table. “I’m not even sure what most of this is.  The English translation is off, one of the items is ‘pig in his own sauce’. “

               “Gross.” Alice scrunched up her nose and laughed. “This is your first time abroad huh?”

               “Believe it or not, this is my first time traveling in general.” You glanced around the train. “I was something of a homebody.”  

                “Well relax, enjoy your travel experience.” She nodded over her shoulder. “But if you want to eat on trains you have to go to the window and order.  Why don’t you wait here and I’ll bring us back something yummy?  I promise, no pig sauce.”

               “That would be great.” You reached into your purse and pulled out your wallet. “I have a few Euros.”  

                “Don’t worry.  This one is on me.” Alice slid up from the booth. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

                When she walked down the aisle you leaned back in the booth, a wave of relief washing over you.  If you hadn’t run into her, you probably would have sat in the dining car all night with no food.  

                You turned your attention back to your phone and replied to your uncle.  

                I’ll try. See you soon.  

                If it weren’t for him, you would have been completely alone in the world.  You were lucky he found you.  When he showed up at your parent’s funeral, surprise was an understatement.  The last time you saw him was when you were five or six. Then when he offered to move you to Turkey it blew your mind.  

                You weren’t ready to move away, but an extended vacation sounded nice while you figured things out.  The two of you agreed on a three-month trip. After that, it didn’t take much convincing to put your things in storage and get out of dodge.

                “Alright, the food will be up shortly.”  Alice slid back into the booth and set a glass filled with amber liquid in front of you.  “I believe we are getting a chicken dish with some French fries.  It may be potatoes though.”  

                Your eyes kept on the beer. You hated to be rude.

                “Cheers.” Alice picked up her glass and tilted it towards you.  

                “I don’t really drink.” You winced and pushed the glass away.  

                “Oh, my bad.”  She frowned. “It seems like everyone in Europe drinks.  Beer is cheaper than pop.  I can go get you something else.”

                She wasn’t lying, you figured that out when you were at the train station.  A coke cost three times what beer did.  Alice had treated for the meal.  

                “It’s not a big deal.”  You smiled. “I have drank, I just, it’s not a normal thing.”

                “No really.  I’ll drink yours.” Alice stood up. “Give me a minute.”

                “See?” You grabbed the beer and took a sip, not wanting her to waste money on you. “I’ll be fine.”

               Alice’s shoulders relaxed and she sat back down.

                “So you can drink?  I assumed, based off your age, you didn’t like it or had to quit or something.”  She picked up her beer and took a sip.  “Not that there’s any shame in that. I know a lot of people struggle with addictions.”

                “Like I said, just a homebody.” You smiled. “I always had friends, but small town, small options.   I lived with my parents until recently, they weren’t drinkers.”

                The smile dropped from your face.

                “What happened?” Alice set her beer down and took your hand.  

                “They died.” You glanced out the window. “A freak accident, nobody’s fault.”  

                “Oh my God, that’s terrible. You poor thing.” Alice squeezed harder. “I’m thinking you need more than one drink.”  

                “I couldn’t.” Her hand was on your wrist, raising the glass to your lips. “I’m pretty sure my parents would be disappointed over this one.  They were a little overprotective.”  

                You didn’t get the rest of the thought out before the glass was at your lips.  The beer was bitter, but not overpowering.  You were scared of the effects though.  

                “Let loose, have some fun. You need it more than most.” Alice took a drink of hers. “Besides, I’m practically a professional drinker.  I’ll make sure you’re safe.”  

               “Thank you for the offer.” Your stomach let out a grumble.  “But I’m more concerned with eating than drinking right now.”  

                “Foods not ready yet.” Alice looked over her shoulder. “But when it is I’m getting us another round.  And tonight is on me.  I’m treating.”

                “That’s not necessary.”  You reached for your wallet. “I’ll get the next drinks.”

               “See?  You need this.”  Alice cheered your glass again. “Drink up.  I’ll take good care of you.”  

               You glanced at the beer and back at your new friend.  It had been a long month and maybe drowning your sorrows wasn’t such a bad idea.  

                “Alright, fuck it.” You picked up the beer and took a huge sip.

                “Thata girl.”  Alice gave you a wink.  

                It could be time to relax.  After all, this was supposed to be a positive transition.

~~~

               Ice was in your veins. You hugged yourself as your teeth chattered, pulling your legs up to your chest and forming a ball. Your long-sleeved shirt and jeans weren’t providing you enough warmth.  You reached out to grab the blanket but felt nothing.  

               Once the coldness settled in a splitting headache came next.  You brought your hand to your forehead and groaned, slowly opening your eyes.  

                The sky was light grey, the sun blocked by heavy cloud coverage.  You looked down and saw the cement underneath you, as you pushed yourself up you craned your neck and realized you were on a small street, huddled against a brick building. Something of a small downtown area.

                “What?” You asked nobody.

                Where was the train?  What were you doing here?  Was this Istanbul?  You pushed yourself up from the sidewalk until you were on wobbly legs.  

                Istanbul was a sprawling metropolitan city.  This was more like a quaint village.  You brought your face to your hands, knowing you were having a delayed reaction.  

                Alice.  That was the last thing you remembered, drinking beer with her in the train car. How many had you had?  You struggled to think, but everything was coming up blank.  You couldn’t remember anything after the first one.  Did you even eat?  

                Your stomach churned and you turned towards the building, keeling over as you dry heaved, your mouth as dry as cotton. Once your stomach accepted there was nothing to throw up you felt a little better and stood back up.  

                Down the street, you spotted a person walking the opposite direction.  You moved as fast as you could toward them, hoping someone could give you a clue as to where you were at least.  Maybe help you call your uncle.

                Call.  Your phone. You felt down your pockets.  Empty.  Your purse was nowhere to be seen either.  Your passport, money, all your belongings were still on the train.  How the hell did this happen?  

                It was tempting to sit still and sob, but that would accomplish nothing so you moved faster hoping to catch up to the person. It was an older woman.  

                “Excuse me, Ma’am?”  You were almost caught up to her.  

                She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Her lips pressed together and she shook her head in disappointment at you.  

                “I’m sorry. I know this sounds strange, but could you tell me where I am or how to get to a phone?”  You weren’t even certain of your uncle’s phone number; you never wrote it down only stored it in your cell.  

               “Yaksh imam bradolbo.” The women clicked her tongue.

               “Oh.” You didn’t have a clue what the language was. “Do you speak English?”  

               The woman continued to shake her head.  

                “Do you know anyone who does? Who I can talk to?” You knew how stupid you sounded, but didn’t know what else to do. “Please.”

                “Bradolbo.” She shook her head and turned to start walking.

                “Is it alright if I follow you?” You kept pace with her.  “Is there a train station around here?”  

                “Shalp bradolbo esq quilnton.” The woman walked faster.  

                Shit. You were probably scaring her.  You needed to find some way to communicate.  

                “Choo-choo.”  You moved your arms at your sides in circles.  “Chugga chugga, choo choo?”  

                You hoped that imitating a train was the same in every language.  The woman didn’t stop walking, but the disappointment in her face turned to pity and she shook her head.  

                “No train stop?” You didn’t understand.  “No English?”  

                “Bradolbo.” She turned the corner.  

                A few blocks up there was a large white tent. It was some form of country market and you felt a slight bit of relief.  Someone there would speak English.  You took a deep breath, knowing you had to hold it together for a little bit longer.

~~~

               Bucky pulled down the rim of his hat, hiding his face as much as he could without wearing a mask.  He hated coming to public spaces, but he needed to restock some of his staples and that meant coming into the farmer’s market.  

               He told himself to relax, reminding himself he picked this small country to hide for a reason. Nobody was going to pay any attention to him.  Still, he was quick, moving from table to table buying double of what he needed.  

                The snow season wasn’t due to start for another month but the chill told him otherwise so he aired on the side of caution and over purchased just in case he found himself snowbound until spring.  

                “Please? Someone? Anyone?” The familiar language caught Bucky’s ear.  “Can anyone understand me?  Please!”

                Why was someone speaking English in a place like this? All of Bucky’s nerves flared.  Was this a trap?  Had they found him?  He bent down and pulled off his backpack, placing his purchases in the bag while retrieving the pistol he stashed in there, sliding it up his sleeve.  

                “Please?”  The voice was female, but that in no way shape or form calmed Bucky’s nerves.

                He wouldn’t look at them. That would risk drawing attention.  He would rather observe before attacking in the middle of a marketplace.  

                With the gun in his grip, he tugged down his jacket sleeve and walked away from the pleading girl.

                “Is there a payphone?  US Consulate?  Can you tell me the name of this city?  Even what country I’m in?”  The girl’s voice faded as Bucky put distance between them.  

                When he was confident he was far enough away he turned to assess the situation.  If she was an assassin sent to draw him out it was a convincing decoy.  She was beautiful, even with the pained look of terror on her face that she was trying to control.  Frustration filled her eyes as she frantically blinked away the tears.

                She was underdressed too, wearing far too little for the cold air.  She didn’t even have a jacket.  

                “Please, can anyone help me?”  She spun in a circle looking at the other shoppers.  

                Every person kept their eyes down, avoiding her at all costs.  It was like she may as well have been a ghost.  Why wasn’t anyone reacting to the poor girl?  Even though she was speaking in a strange language Bucky was surprised nobody tried to help her.  

                “They’ve seen this before,” Bucky whispered to himself.

                There was a reason they ignored her.  Bucky knew what sort of country this was; it was a big reason he chose it.  He bet the poor lost woman didn’t have that choice.

                He pushed the thought down. She had nothing to do with him.  He needed to ignore her and leave her to whatever the fates had in store.  

                “Please?”  She was struggling to keep the tears out of her voice as it shook.  

                Bucky turned to leave, but he felt a pang of guilt. He had two options: go home and forget about the woman or try and help her.  He didn’t like either.  

                It was early, not even nine am, he guessed whoever was on their way to collect her was minutes away.  They wouldn’t let their catch roam free for too long.  

                By the time they arrived, she would be so desperate and scared she wouldn’t question getting into a car with a stranger.  Bucky knew the dangers of falling into the wrong hands, having your life taken away.  

                “Why won’t anyone talk to me?”  The girl sounded frantic. “Can I just use a phone? Can someone call the police?”  

                Every voice in his head told him it was a bad idea. Leave.  Forget about her, but Bucky still wasn’t sure if it was really him in charge of the voices.  

                “Shit.” He cursed to himself as he moved from behind the table and made a beeline straight for the girl.  “Option two it is.”  

~~~  

               You were seconds away from screaming at the top of your lungs.  It didn’t matter that these people spoke a different language, how could none of them be attempting to speak to you at all?  Maybe call the police over the crazy lady screaming in the market?  

                Right before you sucked in the air an arm flung around your shoulder, pulling you in for a hug.  

                “Act like you’re happy to see me.  Like this was all planned,” a voice spoke from the top of your head.  

                “Oh, you speak English thank God.” You sighed and pulled away from the chest. “Can you help me?”  

               Your breath caught in your throat as sparkling blue eyes looked down at you, he wore a grin that to everyone else was shielded by a baseball hat.  

                “We have to move.  Remember, act like you were waiting for me.”  He kept his arm around your shoulder and guided you to the back of the market.  

                “Move? Where are we going?”  You weren’t about to leave the man’s side.

                “Away from the crowd.  Keep your eyes down. Try and blend.”  You didn’t know how you were supposed to do that when a few minutes ago you were causing a scene.  

                Most people continued to ignore you, but others gaped at the man who was walking you out of the tent.  Almost like he was doing something forbidden. It should have made you uncomfortable, but someone finally agreed to help and you weren’t about to take that for granted.  

                “I was on a train, and then I woke up on the sidewalk. Where am I?”  When you left the area of the market his arm dropped from around your shoulder.  

                “We have to keep moving.”  The man walked to a small bike.

                “Wait.” You’d never been on a motorcycle before and weren’t sure this would seat two. “Can you take me to the police?”  

                “We don’t have time for this.”  He took off his backpack and held it out to you.  “You have two options, stay here and see what happens or come with me.”  

                You glanced behind your shoulder at the market. The awful feeling of invisibility making you almost convulse.  Without hesitation you walked over to him, taking the oversized backpack and throwing the straps around your shoulders.  He had made it look so light, but it was heavy enough you almost thought your back would throw out.  

                He kicked the bike on and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you took off.  The sound of the engine filled the cold air and you tried to bury your head into his back, hoping to block the wind.  

               How could things have gone so wrong so quickly? Your teeth started chattering and as your exposed hands froze around the man’s stomach.  You focused on the cold, telling yourself this man would help you. He would get you in touch with the authorities and you would be on your way to your uncle in no time.  You were sure of it.  There was nothing to fear.  You wouldn’t allow yourself to think anything else.  

[prismarine-parrots]

Tree of Life Pt. 1

Originally posted: 25 Feb. 2019

Ahahahahhaha

This five part-story earned me the title Thanos of Hermitcraft and created the first fanart and meme of any of my content. Send help for us all.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 3.5

Part 4

Part 5 (1)

Part 5 (2)

No one had seen Grian in three weeks.

Normally, it wouldn't be too surprising for people to be quiet for a while. Everyone working on their own projects and maybe not in the right area to see the person in question.

But something was different with this case. The player list said that Grian was online, not AFK, so not outside the server in the community hub or working on a different project on his channel. In this case, SOMEONE would normally at least see him restocking his traveling-cart-that-never-travels, or flying around his base wasting rockets, or at the very least bothering Mumbo Jumbo, his closest neighbor.

Mumbo himself had not been too worried at first. When it had been a couple days since Grian has visited he had sent a letter though their mail system to make sure that 1. The mail system might actually be used and 2. Make sure Grian was alright. Not twenty minutes later Grian had responded that he was fine, just busy at his base.

The next red flag was when Zedaph realized that the only reason his Quartz, Warts, and Shorts shop was making sales was because Grian's cheaper traveling cart next door hadn't been restocked in weeks. While at first he was a little miffed at this fact, this started to get him worried. Grian was normally fairly good about restocking his cart, sometimes with his own supplies instead of getting extra, even if not shown on camera he still made sales. With the mining desert and gravel pit nearly out of both materials, people had started regularly going to Grian's shop, hoping for more of those grindy blocks in which he specialized.

When Iskall had private messaged Grian asking if he wanted to help prank DocM for the heck of it, Grian had declined, saying that he had been grinding blaze powder in the Nether. This has confused Iskall. Why did Grian need blaze powder? The only thing it was good for was eyes of Ender and potions. They had already beat the dragon and turned the End into a farm for shulkers and elytra, so needing eyes of Enders was off the list. But why did Grian need potions? Iskall has assumed a prank and asked if Grian wanted help with other potion ingredients, but he had declined in a rather cold "no," saying that the strawberry blonde didn't need any more stress right now.

It wasn't until someone not even on the Hermitcraft server, PearlescentMoon, messaged someone she knew was in the server to check on Grian, as he hadn't posted anything online in nearly three weeks, and hadn't given any explanation to where he may have gone.

When Iskall finally heard that he had called Mumbo, Xisuma, and False, hoping that maybe one of them could help.

"Heeeeyy Iskall!" X greeted as he swooped I'm in front of Grian's cart, where Iskall has thought to ironically meet because it was in the middle of the shopping district and an easy place to meet, not actually because they were here to talk about Grian.

"What's up?" False asked, using an ender pearl to warp into the side of the cart and bouncing off casually.

"Show off," Iskall muttered, recognizing the subtle PVP tactics. False grinned but before she could retort, Mumbo landed with a little stumble, grumbling about lag and elytra not working properly still.

"Hey Mumbo!" Iskall greeted cheerfully. Mumbo nodded silently as the others waved.

"Why have you called us, Iskall?" X asked curiously.

"Right, right," the Swede started, glancing around the small group, "now that we're all here, I'm going to get straight to the point. Has anyone seen Grian recently?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"I've been by his base a couple of times, but he's never there. He's replied to my texts at least, but hasn't shown up around my base in a while," Mumbo immediately recalled with a frown.

Xisuma was on his phone, a tool that everyone had for chat, inventory, surfing the web outside the server, everything. "It says he's online," he noted, turning the screen the other way and showing the online player list.

"He's been online for weeks," False informed, "Every time I've looked he's been on anyway."

"And yet no one has seen him? I was hoping that maybe you had seen him on another part of the server, like your fantasy district, False." Iskall sighed. The blonde girl shook her head.

"I think we should check on him. This usually isn't like him," X decided, prepping a rocket.

"I was wondering if there might be a glitch somewhere, and that's why he's been so weird. That's why I called you, X," Iskall explained as he took out a stack of rockets from his backpack.

"And I'm here because I'm closest to him I'm assuming, not because of my redstone or that I'm a spoon," Mumbo sighed jokingly. Everyone got a quick laugh out of that before Iskall patted Mumbo's back rather hard, making him stumble, before they all took off over the shoulder of the Statue of Hermity.

Within minutes the group was circling the massive tower in the middle of the ocean, an insane project for the newest member of Hermitcraft.

"See anything?" False called to anyone nearby.

"Nothing! Looks empty to me!" X replied.

Iskall blasted out of the bottom floor entrances. "The towers are mob traps, don't go in there!" he screeched, sounding thoroughly spooked.

"What about the basement? Or the upper floors?" Mumbo asked.

"He has a basement?" False questioned.

Iskall nodded. "I'll check there. False, want to come with? Mumbo and X, you go check upstairs. Sound good?"

With a quick confirmation from everyone, the pairs split to search the futuristic wedding cake.

Iskall had been down to the basement a few times before, if only in the first few weeks of Hermitcraft Season 6 when Grian actually USED his basement. There were chests down there that were collecting dust, and some poor cows trapped in a nano farm the NHO apparently never discovered.

"Oh my gosh, Iskall! Look at this!" False called from somewhere ahead.

"Coming!" Iskall replied and tried to find where False had gone off to.

He skidded to a halt when he found her on the edge of an opening in the shoddy basement, facing a massive opening in the rock.

"Woah," Iskall breathed. The cave was huge and clearly manmade, and the Swede wondered how long it must have taken for Grian to dig and terraform and decorate the cavern.

No to mention the large egg-shaped build floating in the air in the center of the cave.

"I think we found Poultry Man," False smirked.

"So calling G our on it when we find him," Iskall laughed. Then both his and False's phone buzzed.

<xisumavoid> come to the top of of the tower

"Let's go then!" False cheered.

They shot out of the bubble columns through the body of water underneath Grian's base and launched through the holes in the middle of each layer to the top.

"Too far guys!" Mumbo's voice called as they flew through the top layer.

"Oops!" Iskall chuckled.

"Coming right back down!" False called and they two glided into the smallest layer.

Xisuma and Mumbo were inside a vibrant garden that was in the top layer. There were vines growing up the sides of the cyan glass and parrots that squawked warily from a distance.

But the most eye-catching thing was the tree that grew to the side.

"What in the world?" False breathed when she landed.

"Don't know, but it doesn't look great," Xisuma said shortly, already on his phone and tapping at controls and Admin commands.

Iskall landed beside Mumbo, who was examining the tree intently with a concerned frown and creased eyebrows.

Every hermit on the server's life force was tied to a special tree. It was something new that they were trying, to prevent less deaths and item losses by being more careful and to fix a few issues that had happened on the technical side from previous seasons. A lot of the trees were unique to look like each Hermit, such as DocM's being rather sharply split between green and grey or Scar's currently being a palm tree. Most of the time they were no big deal. Each time a hermit died, the tree would take some damage in some way, such as a leaf dropping to the ground. Unless it was several deaths in a row, you couldn't even notice the difference in the tree. And even if you did die a lot, if you played it safe for a couple days your tree would be back to normal again in no time.

But this was different.

Grian's tree here in his aviary looked half-dead. It was normally a fairly simple oak tree, but with autumn red leaves instead of green. But half the leaves were fallen, dry on the ground, and the ones still on the tree were either brown or purple. A limb had even fallen, splintered and leaning against the trunk of the tree itself.

"Grian..." Mumbo murmured. He couldn't imagine what had happened for this to be the cause, or how Grian must be feeling if his tree was like this.

"What happened?” Iskall wondered, he started to approach the tree, but Xisuma called him back.

"It doesn't look like the tree has been healing over time properly," X muttered under his breath, his expression serious as he analyzed the details coming up on the server monitoring screen of his phone.

"We all know Grian dies a lot, could that be the cause?" False suggested nervously. X shook his head.

"This is over a long span of time, probably since the start of the season even."

"And Grian hasn't died since he's gone silent. It's not hard to miss a death message in the chat," Mumbo recalled, also pulling up the server chat on his own phone, "It's been three weeks, that should be plenty of time for the tree to have healed without any interruptions."

The sound of a firework going off and a rush of air as elytra closed up. The four hermits jumped as a newcomer stumbled into the garden, losing his balance and catching the broken branch to hold himself up as he landed.

"Guys?" A very pale- and sick-looking Grian breathed, before coughing into his arm and sliding to the ground.

"I think something's wrong..."

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

Word Count: 1830

[hgfstreamchats]

Centuarworld: Part II

Zephra859:41:03 PM

I can guess why but come on, Blades, Zulius is clearly the best character

thenightetc9:41:08 PM

Wait, is this the right episode?

Knock Out9:41:09 PM

He is!

thenightetc9:41:33 PM

I think we may have skipped over the mole one.

Knock Out9:41:38 PM

Oh, true.

Zephra859:41:49 PM

oops lol

Knock Out9:42:01 PM

Unless anyone is in favor of skipping the mole one.

Zephra859:42:12 PM

I'm fine with it

Knock Out9:42:19 PM

It's not a favorite.

thenightetc9:42:26 PM

Alright.

Knock Out9:42:35 PM

Unless you like it, night human.

thenightetc9:42:49 PM

Ehhhhhh.

Smokescreen9:43:12 PM

owo whats this

thenightetc9:43:13 PM

It's somewhat plot-relevant, that's all. For anyone who hasn't already seen it.

Knock Out9:43:28 PM

"Something something her tail tells jokes now."

Smokescreen9:44:05 PM

Oh, rip

Zephra859:44:13 PM

Hi Smokescreen!

Smokescreen9:44:19 PM

Hi Zephra!!

Knock Out9:44:19 PM

Smokescreen!

Smokescreen9:44:23 PM

Woojit!!!

thenightetc9:45:36 PM

Their FACES.

Zephra859:45:44 PM

The best spell in the show

Knock Out9:45:57 PM

By far.

akabra9:46:51 PM

hiya

Zephra859:46:56 PM

Yoo

Knock Out9:47:07 PM

Hello!

akabra9:47:13 PM

it is ME, the dude from the server obsessed with ultrakill

Knock Out9:47:24 PM

Ched is the only character on this show I never learned to like.

akabra9:47:37 PM

I'm lagging ugh

Zephra859:47:50 PM

HERE WE GO

Zephra859:47:53 PM

FAVE SONG

Knock Out9:48:06 PM

Because we all have a Splendib.

akabra9:48:32 PM

also why do they need the sash

Zephra859:48:35 PM

I have an entire bar full of Splendib's and Zulius's

Knock Out9:48:42 PM

There's a piece of the key attached to it.

Zephra859:48:46 PM

I've seen this exact confrontation a dozen times

Knock Out9:48:47 PM

My kind of bar.

akabra9:49:15 PM

why can they not punch eachother over ot

Zephra859:50:54 PM

whole a$$ mood

thenightetc9:52:23 PM

Her face.

akabra9:52:59 PM

that guy did not in fact have a cheer

thenightetc9:54:42 PM

I do feel bad for her.

akabra9:54:52 PM

i frozw

Zephra859:54:54 PM

poor girl is SO not cut out for this

Knock Out9:55:45 PM

Someone help her.

Zephra859:55:54 PM

Zulius is trying, man

thenightetc9:55:56 PM

She's. Already walking on her tonails all the time.

Zephra859:57:26 PM

SO FAB

thenightetc9:57:34 PM

Zephra was that your mic

Zephra859:57:46 PM

Wait that's my mic that's on??

Zephra859:58:26 PM

Oh snap Y'ALL HEARD NOTHING

Knock Out9:58:42 PM

Not to worry. You have a nice laugh.

thenightetc9:58:55 PM

Annnnd THAT'S why I feel bad for her

akabra9:59:48 PM

it keeps freezing

Zephra859:59:54 PM

(buries hands in face) stooooop

Zephra8510:00:46 PM

SA;DLJFSDLK LOSING IT

Zephra8510:01:08 PM

beware the cute ones

Zephra8510:04:03 PM

the creature of this show actually uploaded one of these on her twitter

thenightetc10:04:33 PM

Wammawink why

Zephra8510:04:54 PM

Everybody's got a kink

thenightetc10:05:07 PM

No reason to drag Glendale into it though

Zephra8510:05:23 PM

true lol

thenightetc10:06:14 PM

Yes. Just one thing.

Knock Out10:07:06 PM

This one certainly is an...experience to rewatch.

thenightetc10:07:16 PM

It really is.

thenightetc10:07:28 PM

He tries.

Zephra8510:07:55 PM

with new context, yeah... he's really just trying to help people man

Zephra8510:10:02 PM

HER TEARS ARE RAINBOWS I CAN'T

thenightetc10:11:25 PM

"Let's move on!"

Zephra8510:11:32 PM

Not sus at all

Knock Out10:14:08 PM

If I transformed into something out of Tiny Bee's universe, I'd be tempted to take a dive into a whale's mouth too.

Zephra8510:14:22 PM

I'm sure you'd make it look great

Knock Out10:15:01 PM

I would, but thank you nonetheless.

Zephra8510:17:27 PM

Aww Sunfish

thenightetc10:17:31 PM

ikr

Zephra8510:23:37 PM

'That one's mine' kldjs;afkads wammawink

Zephra8510:23:57 PM

oof we've all been there

Knock Out10:24:02 PM

Oh yes.

thenightetc10:27:24 PM

awwww, she's tired

Zephra8510:27:55 PM

Glendale honey NO

Knock Out10:28:22 PM

I like how ever so slightly awful Glendale and Wammawink are to one another.

thenightetc10:28:35 PM

Oh god

Knock Out10:28:44 PM

Let him speak!

Zephra8510:29:42 PM

Creativity is being stifled for all

thenightetc10:30:49 PM

Why.

Zephra8510:31:11 PM

I hate how much I love Comfortable Doug

Knock Out10:31:58 PM

Life would be so much easier if you could hate him completely, and yet...

Zephra8510:32:24 PM

srsly

thenightetc10:34:03 PM

gaaaaah

thenightetc10:34:22 PM

WAMMAWINK?

Knock Out10:34:56 PM changed the video to Knock Out's screen

thenightetc10:36:08 PM

Everything okay there?

Knock Out10:36:51 PM changed the video to https://www.netflix.com/watch/81134550?trackId=155573560

Knock Out10:36:51 PM changed the video to https://www.netflix.com/watch/81134550?trackId=155573560

Knock Out10:36:51 PM changed the video to https://www.netflix.com/watch/81134550?trackId=155573560

Knock Out10:37:07 PM changed the video to Knock Out's screen

Zephra8510:37:59 PM

It's not a real stream night unless things go horribly wrong and Knock Out is spending half the night frustratingly trying to fix it

thenightetc10:38:07 PM started the video at

thenightetc10:38:21 PM

There, there

thenightetc10:38:43 PM

Also ignore whatever that was.

Knock Out10:40:13 PM What *was* that?

thenightetc10:40:16 PM Oh, there we go!

Zephra8510:40:46 PM I wanna know more about Trevor

Knock Out10:41:10 PM Likewise.

Knock Out10:41:18 PM The clones never get old.

thenightetc10:41:21 PM It's working now and that's all that matters.

Zephra8510:41:28 PM they honestly disturb me

thenightetc10:43:47 PM aaaaaaaaaaaaa

Knock Out10:43:50 PM "Convince each one of what needs to be done." They stole two of them.

Zephra8510:43:54 PM Bye Lizard Person, we barely knew ye

Zephra8510:44:15 PM It got the job done lol

thenightetc10:44:42 PM oh dear

Knock Out10:45:00 PM PIT.

thenightetc10:45:31 PM Try vbrowser instead of screenshare

Knock Out10:46:10 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO Knock Out's screen

Knock Out10:46:53 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO Knock Out's screen

Knock Out10:47:54 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO Knock Out's screen

Knock Out10:49:21 PM It won't unless I subscribe.

Zephra8510:49:33 PM uuugghh

thenightetc10:49:40 PM Here, let me do it

thenightetc10:49:45 PM It'll just take a minute

Knock Out10:49:49 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO Knock Out's screen

Zephra8510:50:01 PM YAAAY

thenightetc10:50:03 PM Oh, nevermind

Zephra8510:50:49 PM Rider really took the whole 'my horse can talk and is a weird cartoon now' in stride didn't she

thenightetc10:50:58 PM She really did.

Knock Out10:51:01 PM I mean, she did come close to stabbing her.

Zephra8510:51:04 PM that's kinda something I would imagine takes more than a second of adjustment

Zephra8510:51:35 PM fair, but it's still pretty fast

thenightetc10:52:23 PM Centaur statues.

Zephra8510:52:41 PM the Centaurworld one had human statues

Zephra8510:54:08 PM THE BUMMER DIMENSION

thenightetc10:54:41 PM Pfffff

thenightetc10:55:10 PM I'm sure it's fine.

Knock Out10:55:15 PM It's probably fine.

Zephra8510:55:33 PM Nowhere King: (shows up 15 minutes late with Starbucks)

Knock Out10:55:49 PM Hah!

thenightetc10:56:09 PM What the hell kind of starbucks do they have where YOU live

Zephra8510:56:11 PM god I love this guy's design all

Zephra8510:56:28 PM sooooo creepy and cool

Zephra8510:57:46 PM Oh my god THIS AGAIN

Knock Out10:57:51 PM I'm so tired.

Zephra8510:58:01 PM why do all your streaming services hate joy, Knock Out?

Knock Out10:58:02 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO Knock Out's screen

thenightetc10:58:33 PM Honestly, the vbrowser one works a lot better

thenightetc10:59:03 PM I'm sensing some backstory here.

Zephra8510:59:16 PM WHY DOES THAT MAKE ME LAUGH SO HARD

Zephra8510:59:25 PM just 'no'

Zephra8510:59:27 PM sdkj;lfasd

Zephra8511:00:56 PM Zulius actually SAYING 'gasp' FFFFF

Zephra8511:04:09 PM GOD THIS FRIGGIN' SHOW

Zephra8511:04:57 PM Rider finally absorbing how weird this all is

thenightetc11:06:55 PM It kind of looks like part of him is already getting out

Zephra8511:07:17 PM OHH SNAP

Zephra8511:07:59 PM sorry gotta brb

Zephra8511:08:44 PM my grocery delivery is almost here, I'll have to go in a minute

Knock Out11:09:00 PM Glad you could make as much as you did!

thenightetc11:09:05 PM Backstoryyyyy

Zephra8511:09:15 PM Zulius is all of us lol

thenightetc11:09:20 PM he IS

Zephra8511:09:32 PM oh god this is intense man

thenightetc11:09:44 PM What did she DO

Zephra8511:10:10 PM Sadly g2g now

Zephra8511:10:20 PM Thanks for the stream, Knock Out! Say hi to the fam for me!

Zephra8511:10:24 PM Bye everybody!

Knock Out11:10:25 PM Always!

thenightetc11:10:33 PM Gnight!

Knock Out11:10:35 PM Good night!

thenightetc11:11:30 PM Sheeeeeeee... made it to centaurworld!

thenightetc11:12:37 PM HA

thenightetc11:13:42 PM NEITHER DID YOU

Knock Out11:14:24 PM All because he charmed you with some "I forgive you"s and "Let me lower my head so you can stab me in it"s.

Knock Out11:15:36 PM Wait, did she just say what I think she said?

thenightetc11:16:32 PM 😭😭😭😭

Knock Out11:19:32 PM And there we have it!

thenightetc11:19:35 PM Man, I can't wait for the second season of this.

Knock Out11:19:44 PM Agreed.

Knock Out11:19:54 PM Hopefully by then, we'll have a reliable streaming service.

thenightetc11:20:03 PM It's going to be amazing, I know it.

thenightetc11:24:14 PM Me, too!

thenightetc11:20:47 PM Honestly, I think it's just the screensharing thing.

Knock Out11:21:12 PM It's always *something.* That's the problem.

thenightetc11:21:29 PM Me and my friend use the vbrowser mode pretty frequently and that always works fine

thenightetc11:22:08 PM You do have to make an account for it, but there's not a ton of setup, just setting a password and email address iirc

Knock Out11:23:08 PM I'll keep looking into it.

thenightetc11:23:19 PM Not like that other one where you were supposed to download software and all that nonsense.

Knock Out11:23:50 PM I appreciate a lack of nonsense!

Mimic11:24:34 PM very desirable quality in a steaming service

Mimic11:24:38 PM *streaming

Mimic11:24:38 PM *streaming

thenightetc11:26:51 PM Did we want to finish up with something else?

Mimic11:28:14 PM I do have a short youtube thing if we do

Mimic11:28:48 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmQE4qdb9fg

Mimic11:28:53 PM PAUSED THE VIDEO AT 0:00:00

Knock Out11:29:49 PM CHANGED THE VIDEO TO https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmQE4qdb9fg

thenightetc11:31:16 PM Heh.

Knock Out11:32:50 PM PAUSED THE VIDEO AT 0:02:58

Knock Out11:33:00 PM JUMPED TO 0:02:50

Knock Out11:33:00 PM JUMPED TO 0:02:53

Knock Out11:33:13 PM I think that's a decent note to end on.

Mimic11:33:16 PM yes

thenightetc11:33:22 PM Thank you for hosting!

Mimic11:33:28 PM thank you!

Knock Out11:33:36 PM Thank you for putting up with all the technical difficulties!

Knock Out11:33:39 PM Good night!

thenightetc11:33:39 PM It is nice to mostly be able to actually watch the stream. Enter a message...

thenightetc11:33:54 PM THESE technical difficulties are nothing compared to the usual ones with discord.

thenightetc11:35:15 PM Thanks for toughing it out anyway!

thenightetc11:37:03 PM And goodnight!

Knock Out11:37:19 PM Good night!

[sonderliing-blog]

Employment Abroad ||| Askcecewells

               Still jet-lagged, and reeling from the stresses from his school application, sequentially emigrating from England, and finding a flat in the city only mounted upon what could be described as culture shock. Everything was so loud, so dirty, and so bright--everyone drove on the wrong side of the road, there was filth and life on every street corner. America was truly alarming and disorienting, but this is where he would have the easiest time obtaining his doctorate, so here is where he would stay--at least until he finished his doctorate and had to make the decision to stay or go back home.                Armed with resumes on eggshell paper in ivory, he ventured out from the house he had managed to rent a room out of, for the same price as a whole flat. He made for the subway, hoping to find a map that would give him a better idea of commute times, however he promptly fled the subway when he found it to be a popular hangout spot for the local rats. Alarmed, but undeterred, he settled for walking the nearby blocks, in attempt to find what local businesses he might apply to.                 The majority appeared to be a variety of restaurants and eateries which catered to the surrounding administration--office buildings and city functions. Locals ranging from the posh to the holes in the walls were offered a resume, and an application, if they happened to have one on hand, while others were brushed passed. With each door Shiloh went through and left, the more he felt out of place. The young man was sitting in a Starbucks, filling out an application on his mobile before one more place caught his eye. Across from the courthouse an old pub stood, he could make out several Irish flags flown among statues of horses that made up the front display.                D e f i n i t e l y  p o s h.                Shiloh turned in yet another resume, before crossing the street, taking a quick moment to pull up his Pokemon Go app and swipe the Pokestop, and put a Pokemon in the Mystic gym. He dismissed the app as quickly as he had pulled it up, before ducking inside, as the sky above threatened rain with frequent thunderstorms.

               The inside was more a surprise, a warm, quiet, but full atmosphere. Crowds of people gathered here or there, all delightfully engaged in their private business. The young man peered around, in search of an employee, but could only see two, one serving and seating, and the other tending to the bar. He tried making his way up to the bar top to try and ask the bartender about any employment opportunities, Getting there through the crowds, however, proved difficult. Perhaps a weekend was a poor time.                Shiloh returned the next day, this time earlier in order to avoid the crowds. He was attempting this time to scope the place out, try and get a feel for it, and try to brush off some of the strangeness. While he found the pub itself comfortable, and the atmosphere familiar, there was something truly strange about it. Their website did not have any electronic details given about employment, no listings on job advertising websites, just a cryptic: Apply at location in the jobs section on the pub’s website. Shiloh had intended to do just that, and attempted to approach the bar once more, as the server was still bustling about, the same two girls working again. Strange, weren’t there more than two people working the front of house? Stranger still, the bar was nearly completely occupied by men all in similar dress--in tweed and newsboy caps. Shiloh tried to think of where he had seen such a large group in such particular dress before. However, it was an Irish pub, perhaps there was some sort of event going on he was not privy to. The only people to stand out against the dull greens and browns were two women--one being a seated lady with blond hair, and the other being the bartender, caught in conversations with the group around her. Armed with questions and conflicted reservations, Shiloh would return later--maybe after some of the other businesses had gotten back to him.                Several days and many phone calls later, it was not until Tuesday night that Shiloh arrived back at the pub. Things had not gone well for him, many businesses wanted someone with greater availability than a student’s schedule allowed, and not many places seemed willing to vouch for his citizenship once he graduated. Needless to say, the strange pub seemed almost welcoming after a harrowing day of disappointing phone calls, and interviews which had been brutally short.                The pub was quiet this time around, a couple quiet groups seated at booths here and there, nothing much more than that. The bar was almost empty, just one patron aside from a seemingly regular customer--the blond woman was back again. Still confused, and quite curious now, he opened his bag, pulled out the only resume he had printed off for the day, and approached the bar, taking a seat just one seat away from the blond stranger. He began with a water and a menu, perusing it in moments where his eyes weren’t wandering. Taking note of the little pictures adorning the walls, and a particular sign above the bar that stated that a discount would be given for placing a lure on the Pokestop in Pokemon Go. A clever business maneuver, but one that Shiloh would not partake in, not wanting to risk sounding immature before asking about any open positions, though he did not see a help wanted sign.                The young man found himself hesitating in asking about any jobs, instead just ordering a tea and chips--the least expensive things on the menu. He wanted to know more, at least before taking the chance of becoming employed here. Nervous fingers brushed against the corner of his resume in a repetitive motion, before he turned towards the woman who seemed to haunt this place of her own accord.                ❝ ‘Scuse me, love. I saw you          here the other night. I just got in          from London and I’m looking for          work. I like this pub, but don’t           know much about it. Do you           come here often? ❞                There was no hint of the nerves Shiloh displayed with the paper in his voice as he spoke to her--having a chat with a stranger came easily to him. Particularly when he tread in such unfamiliar waters as these. 

@askcecewells​

[tonxstark]

Macho game, on the internet ??

This is actually the 145th original of Xianren JUMP 1 My childhood is a story lingering with toilet literature. You can find traces of my creation in every wall of the school toilet. The protagonist is normally the foreign language teacher I hate the most. He continually taught me some tough English, and I always suspected he tried too hard. When I grew up, I read Mr. Chuan's Twitter to confirm this. Isn't the English of the President of america the same? Top of the limit of the English world reaches this level. Needless to say, I realized later on that the value of learning English lies in finding him grammatical errors. In lots of years of literary creation, I did not encounter any difficulties. The only trouble is that I don't possess time and energy to play games. During the past, when I just knew more easily, I could still have a hardcore stand-alone for 3 hours prior to going to bed. Later, We double-opened Pinterest, and I could only take the time to purchase two pesticides and chicken, and I would occasionally sigh easily viewed my accounts with full pores and skin and inscriptions. Before I started to tinker with station B this past year, I had to cut all the game time. Except on weekends, I could only play idle mobile video games, and the reason is really boring-for a apparently high-producing sow, in fact, there is absolutely no one that can let me play with paper while smashing the liver. People, there is no delay in the game. Yes, I'm discussing swords and expeditions. 2 The sword and the expedition are burning, and the fire is really a little unusual. A new public beta mobile sport has been on the very best 3 of the IOS best-seller listing for just two consecutive months, eating poultry and pesticides makes the chrysanthemum tremble. I am afraid that if I'm not careful, I will give out an intoxicating fragrance. Lots of people were caught away guard by the fire of sword and expedition. Right now when Tencent and NetEase dominate the mobile game market, only the crazy cooking strength of the two-dimensional component to the document man's wife can barely support one or two explosions and struggle against it, or it is a re-enactment of the terminal game IP mobile game a decade ago. Stable gold absorption. Making money is so boring. The complete Chinese mobile online game market has been without interesting waves for too much time. Five or six years ago, the era when thousands of cellular game groups of thousands of heroes in troubled occasions were effective, all publishers had been looking for products and teams. Nobody would have believed that Lilith, who utilized to create her debut with the legendary dark equine of Dota, would usher in her 2nd spring after a few years of dormancy. Lots of people cannot understand the sword and the fire of expedition. The overall game screen looks unremarkable, revealing a staleness in the popular flat UI. Placing apart the idle gameplay, Sword and Expedition seems to be at best two or three generations behind the current trend of aged card game primary. The character development is a serious pit visible to the naked eye, revealing an aura of cheating and running, and the players who've been washed again and again by the domestic Krypton gold mobile game have always been developed to run away with their noses while watching VIP system. Knee-jerk reflex. But Sword and Expedition continues to be on fire. 3 Why did the sword and the expedition fire? Many people can tell the answer making use of their eyes closed: because the announcement is normally ready to spend money. The advertisement of Sword and Expedition has been spread since November, and following the public beta in January, it has spread over the sky, land, and air without dead ends. Many people see the spokesperson Luo Zhixiang more often than their very own mother. Binance Right down to Douyin Kuaishou, around top KOL, Bao Yuan is really a master performer, all APPs get turns to open the screen, and also the legendary account of GQ Labs is also a lover of Sword and Expedition. In the last second, I worked on Weibo, and in the next second, he repeatedly jumped across Kuaishou Douyin at Station B. You can also see his primary video clips and ghost music on the website where you find out about sow postpartum treatment. This kind of non-lifeless corner private sale has produced mobile game advertisements from the era of silly dicks once talked about by people to the era of coin throwing. It's not that I've in no way seen mobile sport ads brainwashing the screen, but it is the first time that I've gotten this battle. "Sword and Expedition" was suggested by the homepage of various channels It really is conservatively estimated that the marketing cost of Sword and Expedition inside the initial month is a lot more than 300 million yuan. It has caught up with the yearly turnover of many game companies. Banknote capability is definitely the core competitiveness. After the events at the beginning of the year, everyone's living conditions are specific. The entire online entertainment sector has experienced a spurt of growth, and video games are usually no exception. What the marketplace blowout brings is a mixture of seafood and dragons. Everyone wants to catch a wave. Then why just sword and expedition can perform it. The answer is easy. During the past, no enterprise dared to spend so much cash on advertising. You imagine that throwing money is just throwing coins, and the influencing causes of it are actually very complicated. The technical content of throwing money is quite high, and the difference between the actuary and the Kaizi is 10,000 in the market. Everyone inside the mobile sport industry opens their mouths. DAU ARPU ROI CPI, one by one, is better than anyone else. At first glance, it is a sport item, but behind this is a total data analysis system. Just how much a consumer will probably be worth, and how much money can be paid back are known. It's another issue if the amount of money goes out and not collected. If it were not for 100% confidence in the product, no company may have this type of large budget. The quantity will be more expensive as it sells. Sword and Expedition has already been continuously and intensively screened for just two months. It is really rich. Actually, the reverse also shows that Lilith really has confidence in her own products. Otherwise, no sum of money will make sense. 4 Delivery and product quality participate in the relationship among 0 and 1. Don't think about it. The merchandise can stand, that is, there is 1 ahead. And the placement is the 0 behind. If there is zero 1, how many 0s is a 0, without the real value. When there is zero 0, there is only 1 1, that would be very lonely. Swords and Expeditions isn't just the saturation announcement, the merchandise itself actually has a deep doorway, and the art style of cup painting is a big plus point. Before the national service went live, the overall game had been operating overseas for a year, also it had the highest income from domestic cellular games overseas. Community content and user portraits accumulated overseas also provide precise model guidelines for domestic publicity strategies. The accumulation of overseas operations in advance isn't only this content of the game version, but has actually fully verified the payment style of the complete game and the player's recognition of the gameplay. This is a base for Lilith's daring to saturate domestic investment decision. The gameplay appears to be outdated, but in fact the growth team, because the original team of Dota Legends, based on the six years of experience accumulated in this former national mobile game, it brings a very powerful detailed experience and a very strategic strategy. Solid, is one of the expert shot. After merging and putting the gameplay, a chemical reaction occurs even more. Now there certainly are a lot of people like me who prefer to play video games but don't have fun with games. There are a lot of tales on the Internet, that may satisfy these people's pursuit of entertainment and offer in-depth strategic expertise. , Became the G point that Sword and Expedition precisely hit. 5 Prior to the upgrade of popular cellular phone configurations and the popularization of 4G, probably the most profound feeling of every player from the age of barbaric growth of online flash games should be the immaturity of the entire market. There are, or even a few, excellent functions. With regards to absolute number, the domestic manufacturing does not also lag behind the top studios in European countries, America, Japan and South Korea. However in those yrs, many small companions who only found games in their eyes were puzzled, exactly why most of the excellent games are usually basically rare inside the domestic market, whether they are usually imported or first products, whatever the player's evaluation of good or poor, and also some game popularity God, the collective retention of paying gamers is helpless. Internal personnel can't control it, the censorship mechanism is not set up, the piracy of personal servers is certainly prevalent, and also the in-game studio has caused the game ecology to collapse. All kinds of incredible issues have existed. In short, the market is immature, the producers are immature, the gamers are immature, and any facet of immaturity or small twists and turns could make a magical work which may be sold for ten years to end because of the cask principle. During the avalanche, every snowflake is usually bravely breaking in to the world. It had been not until slowly that everything gradually matured, and the more cruel information came. It had been not that the mobile game was born with the golden key to the finish game. Many online game manufacturers that are too past due to transform or have no strength to consume the remaining market surplus are falling at a fork in their destiny, which is regarded as a crime of nonwar. Many people remain clamoring that the cellular terminal is really a challenge and counterattack to the PC terminal. The target fact is that the decline of the complete PC terminal shows an irreversible decline across the entire development curve. The player pioneers took an iron pot from the sky and hit it on the top of the Duanyou group. The type that can not be deducted. Looking deeper by means of the glass at the rear of games and technologies, this is even determined by the state of life of everyone throughout the age. The economic foundation determines the superstructure. The development of the Internet has more and more eliminated enough time and space barriers to information dissemination, and normally it has blurred the sense of boundaries between function and life. Day and night are no longer the "spiritual globe" and "material assurance" of the Chu River and Han realms, so it must be a faster pace of life, more fragmented period, and a minority of people in modern society who can control their own destiny, let alone work and rest. Time, in any case, the moon established every day and the rise of the very next day won't be suspended. So for almost all people who have simply no ability to change the guidelines, they do not have the right to state NO with their lifestyles, and at most try to modification their positions when they are knocked down, so as not to make themselves less painful. Unless you have period, then choose the placement course that doesn't take a lot of time. Get up and click, take a go through the pit, check out the results before going to bed, and think about how long the liver can last when time is definitely empty. There will be more difficult progress waiting. Your luck. And the symbolic meaning of the achievement after reaching the difficult degree is higher than the practical meaning of attribute worth or core experience. Easily create a flow of expertise. 6 Liver strength revolves, krypton revolves, while providing emotional satisfaction and entertainment worth for the majority of gamers, how to balance the game connection with deep celebration and white prostitution may be the most comprehensive quality check of the current F2P cell phone game. The really hard place is really difficult, and the soft place should make everyone feel soft and comfortable. This is what many new video game manufacturers must practice, and it is also the place where Lilith Games has continually done well. If the market may be the only criterion for quality inspection, then the sword and expedition that returns from overseas to export to domestic product sales can be reported to be the pacesetter of the complete market. Talking about last. The self-cultivation of a fantastic online game must have an art style that may impress most people initially. Whether it's pretty or punk technology fiction, the initial step is to make the eyeballs ready to read. Especially manufacturers that concentrate on the worldwide marketplace, in a way, need to spend more believed, his battlefield isn't just a nation and region. Cut the cash of domestic gamers to visit the outside world, or get the recognition and recharge of worldwide players before returning to the homeland. That is Lilith's different answer in comparison to many big producers. Which decision is more complex? Everyone provides their own answers. Then there is a group of gameplay construction, strategic depth, long-term operation, etc. from front to back to match the primary product points. The configuration can be broad, and nothing can be bad, nonetheless it doesn't have to be precise. Pursuing the best in everything often means nothing. In the end, the sport is actually a commodity. Since it is a commodity, it's important to pursue price performance and respect ROI. Passing ZZ is definitely correct, unless you are usually aiming at individuals who like to visit the road and shout slogans, like small pets, Islam, vegetarians, gays, dark feminists, that's really horrible. People and video games are also a process of choosing each other. It isn't always for the screen to be indifferent to the severe, nor is it necessarily the two extremes of prostitutes or giants. If online games must have a self-cultivation book, so should gamers. Actual punk players choose only the ones that are the most suitable for them. Individual preferences, economic conditions, and living conditions. To put it bluntly, every game that everyone chooses is tantamount to a confrontation with lifestyle. 7 The mutual choice between video game producers and players is essentially a number of cyclical games, continuously optimized commercial mutual battles. Keeping up with the smart enough manufacturers associated with the changing times, he actually needs to know very well what most gamers want in this particular era and exactly what probably the most cost-effective choices they can make. Then just give them something, don't actually spill too much, just right. I don't think there is anything bad with this particular. Many things ought to be broken aside and shattered. In reality, true villains are continually cuter than hypocrites. Similar to the emergence of tens of vast amounts of subsidies, it really pierced the underpants of the e-commerce industry that have been slightly raised. The rise of mobile games like Sword and Expedition is only the necessity for such a huge specific attribute on the market. In case you are rational good enough to obtain out of your viewpoint of the few games before you, check out the top-sharing games in the marketplace that take turns dominating the search positions, and then get yourself a deeper understanding of who is spending money on which heart requirements. You may even have got a glimpse The pulse of the days. When hard-primary stand-alone machines are released, behind them are a large number of players that are keen on video games and waiting to be fed. When all sorts of online games are popular, there are always a large numbers of those who have a solid demand for another kind of life and more than enough free time. When it comes to casual and idle games that can win this type of large market, it is very clear that behind the moments are the huge demands of the times. The overall game at the top of the marketplace is similar to flowing water, in fact it is individual beings after all. Probably the most advanced products are games that understand people, adjust to them, and actively make changes to meet the needs of the changing times. Click to learn the original text experience The hottest placed mobile game right now **** Fairy Jump Long press the BlockchainLink about the still left to follow! You will feel a soul that frees yourself And every write-up includes a surprise ----------------------- Thank you for reading through. Below is really a link button for the lucky draw. The lottery will undoubtedly be drawn at 19:00 on March 31st, totaling 6,666 yuan, and 2020 reddish colored envelopes. Many thanks for the support. Thank you for reading, viewing and forwarding at all times. Click on me to take part in the lucky draw! Click me to participate in the fortunate draw! Click to learn the initial text and become a macho

[wetmini-blog]

Glasgow

The plan was to sleep on the plane, which departed at 11:45 Halifax time (delayed because they would have gotten to Glasgow too quickly, like how often does that happen) and landed in Glasgow at 8:00am. So it was supposed to be a perfect go to sleep at night, wake up in Glasgow in the morning, and VOILA no jet lag. Well. The extremely tall tailwinds made the flight only 4 hours 13 minutes. (!!! normally this would be amazing.) Syna had filled me with spaghetti, delicious beer, two cones, and a gummy. Plus I had one of my trusty sleeping pills, I was determined to end my amazing talent of never being able to sleep on a plane. You'd think I'd be knocked the fuck out. But no. No, I was not.

A very delirious and dizzy Karyn stepped off the plane in Glasgow. All I had to do was walk out front, turn left and get on a bus. What I did was walk right, circle around a car park, twice, walk up a random street not meant for pedestrians, almost got hit by a bus, and chased said bus to where the goddamn buses were, right out goddamn front of the goddamn airport. Lugging my shit and getting drenched, of course. Wet, hot, dank, fogged up glasses Karyn gets on the bus, pays her 7 pounds 50 pence fare, and ok sweet, good to go. All I had to get me to the hotel was a lousy screenshot, and I say lousy because the adjacent streets weren't labelled, only the ones I needed. So, I get off the bus at the wrong stop, of course, armed with my useless screenshot, and proceed in the wrong direction. I wander around George's Square for a while, my leather laptop case gift from Kasia is entirely soaked, but I'm cool. And man, all this walking is making me thirsty. I know Scots give absolutely useless directions from experience, so I don't bother asking for a while. OK, Finally, fuck my life, I need to ask someone. I do, she directs me.... I walk in a circle and and right back to her. I make her give me the directions again, and I set off.

I get to the hotel. But it's not my hotel. I text Stmoo and ask him if I'm getting punked. He says, there's more than one hotel of that name in Glasgow. GOOD TO KNOW. I'm not angry though, I'm not rushing. I'm just thirsty and dank. The hotel guy gives me a map and shows me where to go: actually at the very top left of the map and I'm at the bottom right. Sweet. I ask him for a drink. He says bar doesn't open till Noon. I say, aren't I in Scotland? Like WTF. I set out. Go to another bar. No, no booze. So I ask some poor hapless local where the F in bloody well Scotland can I get a drink at this hour. She directs me to the Iron Horse, and bless her, the directions make absolutely perfect sense and get me there, in spite of her accent. I got this. I walk in looking like the Dank Baglady from Hell, drop my loads of shit, pony up to the bar, and ask a girl for a shot and a ha'pint. (Belhaven's Best is most similar to John Smith's and thus will be my beer of choice for the forseeable future.) She says, she can serve me a drink, but only if I eat some food. I show her I have pepperoni in my bag. She's not impressed. No, I must spend 3 pounds for a bacon roll. Cool, I order that. It was exactly a bacon roll. Some fried back bacon shoved into a breadroll. No fuss, no muss. Now I'm feeling a bit pepped up and ready to make the trek. Glasgow is like a tiny San Francisco, lots of hills. I strap on all my bullshit and head out, feeling still delirious but much less thirsty. Hours later and ten more sets of directions, I arrived at the hotel, stripped, laid on the bed, and fell asleep for 3 hours. When I woke up I was super confused as to why the fuck I woke up. Stmoo's train would arrive in an hour and I had to be a little less greasy and dank when that happened, as we'd be going out in public. Man, I did not want to wake up. That was super tough. I washed my face, put on my eyebrows, went to Rizza's shop (she wasn't there) and then back to the hotel to wait. As Stmoo walked up I stuck my head out the window and gave him a warm friendly "ELLO!" I gave him a minute to wash up and we set off to our first bar. I had chosen Sedongo or whatever it was called because Google told me it was cheap food and beer. The Scotch was a 12 year old Glenfiddy and it was only 3 pounds for a very healthy pour. I also ate some thai noodles and tempura tofu. You know, because when in Glasgow, eat fucking thai food? Yes. We swallowed our last mouthful and set off again.

Stmoo makes me fucking laugh. He says the weirdest shit. For example, the further we got from the hotel, the more I worried about his health and wouldn't he need his jacket? And to make fun of me and my coat and umbrella, he says "You're talkin' shite, you're under a brolley." And naturally I'm spending the day both getting used to his accent and imitating it. By 7:30 we had a bet going that I couldn't go an hour without mockingbirding him.

After the second - third? - bar, we somehow agreed that we had to find the shittiest, nastiest pub in all of Glasgow. We were meandering down towards the "wee fun place" (mini fair - he insists he did not in fact call it that) when some kid tried to abscond us to sell us something. Instead, we asked him where the absolute crappiest bar could be found. He gave a phenomenal set of directions - down until the subway tunnel and go right, then where there's another tunnel, go through it, turn right again, continue ahead, until we find a statue of a man in a gas mask. The bar's across the street. We followed these directions, but got thirsty, so slammed another pint in some shitty hipster basement bar, but to be fair it did look like they made delicious pizzas. We asked the bartender where the crappiest bar in all the land was, and he gave us the same name. When we got to the place we were very sad to see that it was not in fact shitty. Bottles of wine for 6 pounds. Bottles of beer for 98 pence. Come on, this is the best bar of all time, you fucktards. We set off again. We're learning that hipsters think shitty actually means awesome, so we need to stop asking fucking hipsters. I decide I need some food so we go into this totally packed hipster bar, I know, I know, I keep doing it to myself. But, they had poutine bolognese, and it was fucking delicious. They also had a gin I hadn't tried and that was good too. I had to make them correct their menu spelling of "reposado" because it offended me. So we ask the ginger kid where the absolute shittiest bar is, but this time, we get real specific. I say it has to smell like piss, and Stmoo says we have to be at actual risk of being shanked for cheering for the wrong football team. Kid's eyes go very wide and we can tell he doesn't want to tell us where to go, but he knows. HE KNOWS. So he gives us three places, totally glazing over the first one, which means, that's gonna be our winner. And we head off again. We walk into what is supposed to be a totally scary place, but it's totally not. The football game is in fact on, people are in fact angry (green team is down 2-0, apparently evil red team is winning) and no one tries to get out of the way at the bar for us to order a drink. Cool, snobby local crowd, but no one is super gangster or pissing on things. We can tell though, in about 2 hours, the place will be really unfriendly. Stmoo asks a dude at the bar if he can move over so we can order a drink, and gets a tongue lashing for wearing a red shirt. At the same time though, the guy kind of sidles over, so we get our drinks.We sat down at a table we invented, improvised stool of sorts, and were apparently surrounded by friendly people. People give you a dirty look, you're pretty sure they want to shank you, but then you say "I like your shirt!" and suddenly you're their best friend. We had a lady take a picture of us and everything. A server was picking up empties, and we asked her, ok SERIOUSLY, FOR REALLY REALS, where is the LITERALLY SHITTIEST bar in Glasgow? She said, that's easy, that's right next door! So off we went. And YES! In the doorway was a disabled gentleman with a cane, staggering inside. Good sign! We walk in, and our nostrils are filled with the glorious stank of piss and disinfectant. We've done it! These cunts are watching the football game, too. And red is still evil. Stmoo makes me promise not to tell anyone in here that he's from Sutherland. Sunderland? I don't know, I can't understand him. Again, Stmoo has to ask someone at the bar to scootch out of the way so he can order something. But he says "can I order something," and the guy says "you can order anything you want," without moving. So it took a really long time but we did end up with a whole round for 4 pounds. We make ourselves an even sketchier table out of a display shelf thing and two pilfered chairs. The place is a goddamn tomb, it is glorious. Like it was once a tomb that people pissed in and then set up a bar. It is horrid. It is exactly what we've been searching for.

Cue random drunk Scot that you can't understand! This pleasant fellow came up and chatted to us. Chatted to Stmoo, I had no idea what the fuck they were saying. Buddy was pretty sure Stmoo and I were getting married this week, so that's funny. I was doing one of those smile-and-nod smiles, and Token Drunk Scot says "aagghgh lookit the smile onthelassie." I go to the bathroom. And the bathroom is the WORST! The absolute worst lilac colour adorns the stalls, like the owner said, I run the absolute shittiest bar in all of Glasgow and I want the absolute shittiest lilac colour for the absolute worst toilets, can you sell me that please?

Back at our "table" which is completely in the way, this little arched passage that separated the two tombs, this kid staggers into Stmoo's drink and smashes it. He then leaves the building. I said I'm pretty sure that kid owes you a beer. So Stmoo chases him out. We get out of the bar and this kid's already halfway down the street, talking to two other kids. Stmoo goes over to tell the kid, pretty sure you owe me a pint mate, and the kid looks terrified and runs away, after doing a bunch of panicked "please don't hurt me" gestures.The kids that he was talking to tell us, he's really sorry, do you guys want to come to a gay bar? Stmoo and I look at each other, our shittiest bar mission was accomplished, so yes, let's gay karaoke. Fucking LET'S. The nice kids introduce themselves, with their gaelic names, Caitlin and Caeden. I say "My name's Karyn! We're the KKK!" They shush me, looking around to ensure no one heard, and then correct me that their names are spelled with Cs. I really like these kids, so much that I got Caeden's digits. They take us to a bar that's pretty gay and fancy and swirly, nice decor, red walls, round booths, and yet still a fucking hipster bartender. A gay hipster though, so that's slightly less awful. 

Stmoo's fading now, I know he wants to go to sleep, but I really wanted to karaoke. I decided to be the nice guy and get him back to the hotel, telling the Cs that I will come back to Glasgow and I will call them and we WILL do karaoke. So suddenly I'm the fucking Master of Glasgow. Completely making up for my total directional failures earlier in the day, like Chris learning Spanish by drinking too much and losing a shoe, drinking in Glasgow has given me this perfect awareness of where we are and where we need to go. Stmoo keeps bitching about a taxi and I keep assuring him we're almost there. And from a totally different neighborhood, I navigated us safely home. But first, he had to get a bottle of wine from offsales. He tried to get me a bottle of whiskey, bless him, but couldn't. You can't get offsales after 10pm in Glasgow. I KNOW! It's supposed to be fucking Scotland! Traitors.

On the way back to the hotel, he stops in a supermarket for a corkscrew. I watch the entire hilarious shamble through the window, him wandering the aisles while the security guard watches him like a hawk.

The hotel was funny because Stmoo wanted to drink wine when he clearly didn't need any, and I was pretty pumped about sleeping. I did fall asleep, then I was having a dream about someone saying to me "how can you sleep through all this noise?" and woke up with his face snoring right into my face. It was 3am. After an hour I went to the reception and asked for another room, but they were booked. Fuck. So I had earplugs and headphones and bianural beats playing and I could still hear the fucker snoring. He also stole my blanket. I am pretty sure I never fell back asleep.

At 6ish for some reason, he gets up and tries to pour wine in my cup. I tell him to go fuck himself. He says "wha, you don't like someone babbling to you at half six?" 

So I mean I hate him, it's not fair he gets to sleep, in his attractive outfit of only tighty whities, and I'm the one with the jetlag. But man, this sentence makes me fucking laugh. And then he's complaining that he can hear people checking out of the hotel now, "how can anyone sleep with all that racket?" How, indeed.

We got our lives together and headed off to the King Street station. Bought a ticket to Edinburg for 12 pounds. Got on the train car closest to the snack trolley. Once it came to me I asked for a coffee and an egg sandwich. Stmoo asked for a cider, and I said "you have booze? I don't want a fucking coffee!" Everyone on the car looked at me. I guess it was pretty loud. Then I looked at my egg sandwich and said "14 dollars! I don't want this sandwich." The kind Scot operating the snack trolley informed me, that's the time, it's only 2 pounds 70. Well of course that's the time to serve it by, this is after all, the motherland, where there are almost no preservatives in everything. Stmoo was quite amused by all this.

I added a tiny bottle of Jack to my order and poured it into my coffee, and said to it, "Get in me."

[oathmmori]

My internet is shit.

TL;DR My upload speed is terrible and, despite all the troubleshooting, I have to wait until Tuesday, the 2nd of May, to possibly stream. 

Last Friday evening I tried streaming, and come to find that my upload speed couldn’t peak over 100KB/s. I need essentially between 1800KB/s and 2200KB/s (1.8MB/s - 2.2MB/s) to stream effectively to Twitch. Before streaming I was on Skype with my girlfriend, Lucy, and we didn’t have any problems with the video call. Skype doesn’t require a lot of bandwidth though, so the problem could have been prior to that and after Thursday’s Cities: Skylines stream. 

When I started the stream on OBS, I went through the normal troubleshooting methods.

First I tried changing servers. I went to New York, Texas, Virginia, San Fran, even EU servers, and I was getting the same result. Couldn’t get over 100KB/s.

I lowered my bitrate, which is low to begin with to compensate for viewers with not so great internet (look at me, all considerate), and that didn’t help.

I dropped all my firewalls, both on the modem/router and on my PC. Didn’t help.

I did a speed test, and here’s the rub, I didn’t let it finish initially. I saw my download was fine, and before it got to the upload, I ended it because my logic is, if it is the internet service provider, the ISP, it’d affect both download and upload, OR it’d affect download but not upload. How very wrong I was.

By this time I was on Twitter saying my shit doesn’t work. You guys threw some ideas at me, kudos BottleCat for saying it was the ISP, you was right girl. 

I tried resetting the PC. Nope.

Reset the modem. Nope.

Reset the modem and the PC. Double nope.

Hard resetting the modem to factory settings. Nope.

Clearing cache and history on the PC and modem. Negative.

Finally did a proper speed test, then that’s when I saw it. 

68MB/s down, 03.MB/s up.

Oh. Well nice. Fuck.

So I tested it against my LTE on T-Mobile.

17MB/s down, 18MB/s up.

Welp. It isn’t the world lagging. At least I got that out of the way as a possibility. As a sidenote, it’s a bit depressing to see that my upload to space is better than my hardline upload attached to this planet. 

So I called customer service, they did some things and saw the problem, even they thought it was weird, when they pinged me and sent test packages to my modem. The guy over the phone was really nice, and when he asked me what I did, said I was a streamer on Twitch, he was like, “Oh man! I love Twitch!” so I got a follower out of it. Cool. Came down to it, they wanted to see if the modem was to blame, so they sent a tech out. 

Next day a guy comes out in the afternoon, tall Hispanic man, nice enough, didn’t catch his name. He changes out the modem and checks the signal, and the whole thing takes maybe less than 20 minutes, and just changing the modem out seemed to help. He asks me what I do, seeing my setup, He’s like, “are you a musician?” seeing all the cables and the studio mic. I tell him what I do. He makes a Twitch account right there and follows me. Baller. I do a speed test while he’s here and I’m seeing 8000KB/s upload (8MB/s), which is great, back to normal nearly, I can work with that. He and I think, job well done, we high five, and he’s gone.

Not an hour after he leaves, and the upload speed drops back down to shit. Okay, wtf. I call customer service again and they check my signal from their end and see the same thing. The guy on the phone sounds like he’s from a Slavic country and his microphone is across the room, I can barely hear him; I can’t tell you how many times I asked him to speak up, the poor Macedonian bastard. We resolve to get another tech out here at 10AM, so I set my alarms, because no reasonable American wakes up at that ungodly hour.

The tech comes by this morning, Edgar, really cool dude, super by the book, and goes through all the steps to help. He check the signal, seems fine. Sees that the speed test is garbage on the upload, and he changes out the modem again (I get their top of the line modem, sweet), we see it doesn’t help. He check the cable from the modem to the wall, not that either. He makes another cable for the wall to the modem, and that doesn’t work. He unscrews the panel on the wall and checks the connections. We turn things off and turn things on. He goes outside and checks the connections. He troubleshot all the way to the outside access point after changing cables, going around bypasses for the television, and directly connecting the modem to the access point behind my house and my upload speed was still garbage. 

At some point he also asks what I do, and I tell him. He watches Twitch, and he follows me. I’m getting all the Spectrum employees.

Edgar, bless his heart, pumped 2 hours into my house and everything outside of it, only to get to the final solution: it goes beyond the power of a general service technician. I need maintenance workers.

It’s now down to a proper maintenance worker, the guys who take care of the grid I’m in, to see what the problem is; it’s actually a problem outside of the quarter of an acre I live on. He did everything he possibly could to find a solution to the problem, to which I greatly appreciated him doing, and now it’s down to guys checking not only the points around my neighborhood, but the big box at the end of my subdivision, to see what the problem is. He suggested I do speed tests from now until around Tuesday, since he’s putting the call in and they usually check the area within 24 hours of a call, and if by Tuesday morning it isn’t resolved, to call customer service again to check the status of the maintenance to my neighborhood. More than likely the problem is affecting everyone in the neighborhood, but because I’m probably the only person trying to stream to Twitch or upload to YouTube, everyone else doesn’t notice the mild amount of lag when they upload their photo album to Facebook a couple houses down, and since it’s not affecting download rates, no one would notice any effect to their Netflix or their Hulu.

So, long story short, I won’t be back until around Tuesday, May 2nd, to streaming due to my grid being garbage for upload rates. Figured I’d keep you guys in the loop, seeing as I was on a roll there for a bit, close to getting everything I need to be considered for Affiliate Program status. I know I’ll eventually get it, but it’s hiccups like this that suck for building the channel back up after being gone for a month. 

I can still do low bandwidth stuff, like browse the internet and social media. Online games stutter, so best to just go offline mode on some things. I’ll be back on my feet in a week. 

Thanks for reading. ;)

[cestfromage]

Poor Alice! I forgot to mention that all day Friday, Alice believed that it was Saturday and that the next day was our last in Madeira. So her enjoyment was partially overwhelmed by what she felt to be our imminent departure. I kept telling her that it was Friday and that we had two more days, but it took until almost dinner time to convince her! The joy she must have felt at suddenly having an extra day in Madeira must have been awesome!

So, here it was, our last full day in Madeira – on Madeira? We had scoped out a strategy – to tackle Western bits of the island. Off to our usual snappy start (I think we wheeled out of the house around 13:00) we decided to lunch in Ponto Do Sol – a seaside city (as many are on Madeira) at a little place right on the ocean. Alice had been hankering for fish soup which the restaurant unsurprisingly served. I had a teeny chicken sandwich. Both of us enjoyed our meal, and the play of the waves on the shore. Beautiful day for sure!

Onwards to the top of the island – by which I mean up into the mountains. We set our GPS for a peak and wound our way up. There were a goodly number of cattle scattered along our path. We stopped to take a picture of a cow and what I presume was her calf, hanging out by the side of the road.

When we got to the peak, the scenery looked like high dessert in any part of the world. Here, there were little chapels dotting the country side. At one such, we stopped and asked directions to our next destination. Neither the husband nor wife (could have been father and daughter, I guess…) spoke any English and our Portuguese was still limited to “Obrigado.” But with some help from a map, and some drawing in the dirt we finally arrived at a consensus: to get to the next place we wanted to go, we need to go right. No left. No, straight ahead. Apparently this was crazy talk, right was the way we needed to turn insisted the woman. The man insisted that we turn left. They both agreed we had to go straight until we turned. Finally, after a bit of convincing on the man’s part, the woman reluctantly and then enthusiastically agreed and told us we needed to turn left when given the opportunity. Which we did.

The island is relatively teeny (Manhattan is ~23 sq miles, Madeira is ~309 sq. miles, Long Island is ~1401 sq. miles), so we soon arrived at our destination – a trailhead to several hiking trails. Neither Alice nor I had appropriate hiking gear (and certainly not the high end backpacks, camel packs and walking sticks of the professional amateur hiker) so we really didn’t do much actually hiking. We walked down a lovely asphalt drive that wended down to the actual trail heads. Some of the people walking up really did not look pleased to be doing so. One couple was very funny. An older couple (60’s?) – She striding along in front, him lagging and dragging behind, huge camera carried in one hand. We stopped a couple to ask them how much further we had to go and it turned out that they spoke French. I spoke with them a little – though my French really is way out of practice. Only 15 minutes more to the bottom of the hill. So onward we walked – finding interesting things to see and places to ogle as we headed down.

At the bottom, four trails seemed to head off in different directions. Because of our lack of appropriate footwear (and lack of time), we opted to just take a little break and wait for the shuttle bus to take us back up the hill. Alice was all for climbing back up – I was resistant to the idea, but told her that if she really, really, really (but it had to be at least three “really’s”) wanted to walk up, I would go with her. But she acquiesced to my laziness and we opted for the bus. Our time waiting passed pleasantly, chatting with a couple from Berlin in a combination of German and English.

The bus driver, who had looked totally taciturn each time he had passed us on our trek down the hill, was actually quite garrulous, pleasant and informative. We told him our idea to stop at “the caves” on our way back to Funchal, and he thought that the attraction might be closed by the time we reached it. (Turns out that it wasn’t – but we didn’t stop…) Well, poo. We finally made it to the top of the trailhead. As we were walking towards our car, the Polish family that we had seen the day before drove past! Small island indeed! Even smaller, when we stopped at a viewpoint and found that they had stopped there too!

After a brief reunion and a sharing of stories and maps (we had three copies of the big tourist map of the island for some reason), Alice and I headed off to our next stop, Porto Moniz, where we decided to have our second meal of the day. I would say lunch, except that it was around 17:00. Alice was diligent in her examination of the offerings of the many restaurants in the little town. She chose a spa/hotel/restaurant that turned out to be great! Our view of the crashing waves, our duck paté and our mussels au gratin were all very good!

Alice also practiced her cat whispering skills in the parking lot!

Sightseeing mostly accomplished, we set our GPS for home and arrived without too many difficulties. As we were pulling into the garage at the apartment, I said “Phew, we made it through the day without a…” screeeech. Yup, spoke too soon. Took the corner into the garage a tiny bit too sharply resulting in a lovely scrape in the right rear panel of the once white car. Sigh. Needless to say, Alice agreed that we would walk into town for her birthday dinner.

After our longish feeling day, Alice chose to take a bath before getting ready for dinner. While she was bathing, our Airbnb hostess appeared bearing gifts: a delicious local specialty cake, some sparklers and a book of handmade cards from which Alice could choose one. Very sweet and thoughtful of her!

We decided to try the last of the three restaurants on the list that Alice had, partly because it was right on the ocean and partly because it was the closest walk of the three and partly because Alice was all spiffed up and wearing high heels. We found the place easily enough (with a little help from Apple Maps). It wasn’t the romantic, quaint seafood eatery we were both sort of expecting. Still, the servers were nice, the food was good and the view of the Marina was nice enough.

Since the night was youngish, and it was our last night in Madeira, and Alice’s Birthday, we found an open pub and had a drink. We also convinced one of the people there to let us buy a bottle of wine to take away! Alice can be very convincing! We opted to take a taxi back up the hill. Once home, we had a lovely evening, playing cards, drinking wine and playing with our sparklers, including one interpretive dance piece by yours truly. Sadly, the performance was not recorded for posterity.

Monday bloomed bright and warm. Since it was our last partial day in Madeira, we actually got up and out in a sort of timely manner. Our plan had been to drive all the way out to the point of the island where there was a lighthouse. But we got waylaid by lunch in the little town of Cançal. Alice picked a great place, again! We shared mussels in a cream sauce. I ordered some steak and fries. Alice had a bowl of fish soup. Way too much food. Again. We really need to learn to order better together. Someday. Our host was an entertaining fellow who spoke excellent English and a few other languages.

We eventually finished our meal, headed off to the gas station to fill up the car (getting the right fuel was a challenge – nothing was clearly labeled as Diesel and the pump we first tried was made for trucks not cars. Sigh.) But we managed. Alice wanted to not be with me when we dropped off the car. She was a bit embarrassed by the state of the automobile. The people checking us in were sympathetic and understanding. And told us that ours was not the worst damaged car by far that they had seen. Phew! Good thing we had gotten the insurance!!

We were at the airport in plenty of time, got through security and got to the gate. The flight home was made much more pleasant by a friendly seat mate, named Commander Patrick who chatted amicably with us for the duration of the flight. As we were heading out of the airport, facing our long and torturous tube and luggage experience, it occurred to me that perhaps an Uber would be cost efficient and a lot easier on our feet! Yay!

By the time we finally got home, around midnight, we were both pretty exhausted. A few hands of gin and into bed. Our vacation to remember was over. And it certainly will be remembered.

VTR Part Three Poor Alice! I forgot to mention that all day Friday, Alice believed that it was Saturday and that the next day was our last in Madeira.