#goodnight and until next time xb

[lilypixels]

I had seen it was simblr gratitude day(?) and wanted to make a little post before I went to bed :3

I wish I could tag everyone, but I’d be here forever and fearing I forgot anyone. Maybe that sounds like an excuse but I for real wish I could tag everyone I follow, especially mutuals.

I just want everyone to know, no matter how present I am or not at a time, I truly do appreciate everyone I have ever interacted with in any way! It’s been a ride for sure, but I love the creativity that flourishes in this community and am in awe everyday. I count myself lucky to have encountered the number of wonderful people I have in this lifetime, you have each had an impact and I cherish it.

Whether we’ve known each other for awhile now or have only recently begun to interact, I am grateful for your existence crossing mine and look forward to more interactions 💖

Thank you, happy holidays, take care of yourselves!!

[vanonmineblr]

WIP fics~

I’ve mentioned the fact the I’m writing fanfiction a few times in the tags, but I have yet to post any of them (I suffer from the case of incomplete fics), so I feel like posting the WIP versions here partially to prove that I am actually writing things, and partially for advice/criticism... So enjoy I guess? (This will be updated as WIP fics are updated :P)

Tired Spoon [Mumbo fluff, 3/5 complete]

Mumbo smiled, stepping back as he looked at his finished project. It had taken him a while to build his new storage system, but it was done, and he was chuffed to bits about it. Well, he still needed some of the filters, but that could come later. The main mechanism was working, and the rows and rows of chests had been placed. He’d worked non-stop on it, fixing issue after issue in the circuitry, unused as he was with this new type of storage system that worked using new features from the 1.15 and 1.16 updates that had sent redstoners everywhere into a frenzy. It wasn’t the most efficient system out there, but he’d designed it all on his own and he was proud of it. And now, now it was all working. And he was far more tired than he’d realised when he was absorbed in his work, a small sigh escaping his lips. Despite this, he frowned as he looked at the undecorated area, knowing he could clean it up a little first. It would only take a few stacks of concrete, he told himself, and surely he still had some somewhere.

He walked towards the neatly labelled chest, opening it and frowning at the lack of concrete in there. He’d have to make some more then, though he swore that he had more than this just moments ago. Closing the chest, he let out another small sigh which quickly turned into a yawn as he thought of all the digging and crafting he still had to do to get the area looking decent. Maybe he should use cyan terracotta there, though perhaps grey concrete would fit better… He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and just about jumped out of his skin as Iskall turned him around, looking at the mustached man with worry in his eyes. ‘Mumbo, are you okay there dude? This project is looking mega cool and all, but when was the last time you took a break?’ Iskall asked, concern colouring his voice. Mumbo blinked, about to push his friend’s arm off his shoulder before pausing. How long had it been? It didn’t feel like that long, but if it was long enough that Iskall, the one who had disappeared for nearly a week straight while working on his tree was worried, then it must have been longer than he thought. ‘Oh, well, that depends. What day is it again? I think I started working on it last… Monday?’ Yes, last Monday sounded about right. He’d lost track of the days after, well, he couldn’t exactly recall the day, but he recalled that the last time he’d checked the date, it had been Thursday. ‘Dude, the last time any of us saw you was nearly a week ago.’ Impulse chimed in. How long had he been there? In fact, Mumbo realised, when had any of the eight hermits that surrounded him even arrived? Had he really been tired enough that he didn’t even notice the sound of them arriving? Or maybe it was the click of dispensers and the rushing of water that had drowned their footsteps out, sounds that had been surrounding him for long now that he didn’t even remember that they were there. ‘Oh… But wasn’t it just the other day when I bought those redstone components from xB? Surely it can’t have been more than a-’ ‘Mumbo, that’s the last sighting that Impulse was talking about.’ The kind hermit said, brows furrowed. Mumbo frowned in response, trying to think against the tiredness that was trying to overtake him now that he wasn’t focused anymore. Maybe he had been focused on this project for far too long after all, but he still had to place that concrete. Just that and then it would be done for now. Just a few more blocks. ‘Oh. Well, I’m nearly done with this project, I just need to decorate the-’ As soon as Mumbo uttered those words, he could see that the hermits were not going to let that slide. ‘Nuh-uh buddy, you’re not going to be touching anything until those bags that are haunting your eyes have completely disappeared.’ Tango said, swatting his hand away from the chest that he barely recalled moving towards, other hermits nodded in agreement with Tango’s words.

Mumbo found himself with no chance to speak as the hermits swiftly moved, pulling him away from his project despite his weak complaints. He noticed Grian going through his chests and pulling out a spare change of clothes, and, looking down, realised how covered in redstone he was. His suit looked like it would need a few rounds of washing before it’d begin to resemble its former glory. Herded along by the hermits before his tired brain had a chance to register anything else, he found himself sitting in the guest room of Grian’s mansion, being told to get changed and have a shower as a pile of soft-looking clothes was thrust at him by Iskall. He nodded sleepily, and the hermits left to give him some privacy.

. . .

As he closed the door, Iskall looked at the hermits in front of him.

‘So now that that’s done, what’s the plan?’ He asked the room full of people.

‘He can stay at my place for now, but someone will need to watch him to make sure he gets some rest.’ Grian responded.

‘I can watch his gorgeous face for a few hours, since I don’t live too far away!’ Stress volunteered. ‘Besides, I kinda feel a bit guilty that I didn’t check on ‘im sooner…’ She added softly.The hermits fell silent at that, Impulse putting a hand on her shoulder as if to reassure her.

‘I can help watch our tired friend as well.’ Scar said, breaking the tension that had filled the room. In the end, Stress, Scar, xB, and Iskall all volunteered to watch Mumbo, though from the hushed discussion between Impulse and Tango it seemed like they might be planning something else to surprise the overworked redstoner. 

Slightly worried that it was taking so long for Mumbo to get changed, Grian and Iskall decided to check on him. However, the creak of the opening door only revealed their mustached friend fast asleep on the bed, not even under the covers due to how quickly his tiredness had caught up to him. Iskall let out a quiet chuckle at this, only to be overdramatically shushed by Grian.

‘Be quiet, he’s sleeping!’ Grian whispered in his best motherly voice.

‘You’re being louder than I am!’ Iskall whisper-yelled back at him. The two looked at each other for a second, before stifling their giggles that they simply couldn’t contain.

‘Since you’re being so motherly, why don’t you tuck him in and kiss him goodnight then?’ Iskall murmured through his laughter.

‘Only if you help!’ Grian quietly responded.

And that is how they spent the next half an hour, the two men still stifling their laughter as they struggled to gently tuck Mumbo under the soft woolen covers of the bed.

. . .

Mumbo woke up with a start, unsure as to where he was due to the unfamiliar surroundings. He vaguely recalled the events of the��previous day, and, looking up at the spruce roof, figured that he must still be at Grian’s mansion.

He sat up, pushing the red blankets off of himself as he did so, and looked around the room. It was most definitely Grian’s base, his friend’s distinct style easily recognisable to the redstoner. He noted the neatly folded suit on the nightstand, a note on top written in what looked to be Iskall’s handwriting.

‘HEY DUDE HERES A CHANGE OF CLOTHES THAT GRIAN GRABBED FOR YOU. IM PROBABLY IN THE FOYER IF ITS STILL MY SHIFT WHEN YOU WAKE UP. XB MADE FOOD AND WE SAVED YOU SOME SO COME EAT’

Mumbo smiled as he read the note, placing it back down next to the clothes. Should he bother to get dressed before having breakfast? Or maybe brunch would be a more accurate term, the disheveled man corrected himself as he looked out the window at the sun that was already high in the sky.

In fact, he realised, he had yet to actually look at the clothes he had so sleepily put on yesterday. Looking down, it appeared that Grian had also nabbed a pair of Mumbo’s usual night wear when he grabbed the suit, with the familiar loose white top and baggy grey pants, although, Mumbo realised, the shirt was most definitely on backwards.

He ended up getting changed and quickly doing his hair (and mustache) simply because of how disheveled he looked, especially in comparison to how he liked to present himself. He didn’t know how he managed it, but apparently his sleeping position managed to mess up his mustache completely out of shape, though a bit of careful combing fixed it easily enough.

He finally emerged from the room out into the hall, admiring how good of a builder Grian was as he did so. Everyone on the server was ridiculously talented, and Grian’s talents laid in building, as clearly shown in the sights before him.

Mumbo could hear two hermits arguing with humour in their voices as he approached the foyer. It sounded like Scar and Stress, though he was unsure as to what exactly they were arguing about, as by the time he got close enough to hear they’d resorted to joking insults.

‘Mumbo! You’re finally awake!’* Scar said as he spotted his mustached friend. Stress whipped her head around at an alarming speed to look at the man who was awkwardly standing in the doorway, a wide smile spreading across her face, only for the corners of her mouth to turn downwards as her face became serious.

‘You better not scare us all like that ever again, aight?’ She said seriously, striding up to the redstoner. Mumbo looked at the irritated hermit nervously as she approached, not entirely sure what her plan was. Despite his uncertainty showing clearly on his face, she walked right up to him, then stopped, wrapping her arms around him as the frown fell off her face.

‘I was worried when I saw your gorgeous face all tired like that. We all were.’

‘...I’m sorry.’ Mumbo said awkwardly, not entirely sure how to react, settling on returning the hug for now. Stress squeezed him tightly for a moment before letting go, ducking out of his arms, and moving back to a more comfortable distance.

‘In case you were wondering, you were asleep for nearly an entire day, which I actually found rather impressive. Also, Tango and Xisuma say you’re not allowed to work on any projects for another two days, and if they see you working on something you’re apparently going to be in a lot of trouble.’ Scar relayed with a smile, Stress confirming his words with an enthusiastic nod.

Despite the threat of Tango and Xisuma’s wrath Mumbo found himself smiling, knowing that they all cared for him. That was not to say that he had thought that they didn’t, although he’d be lying if he said that doubt had never clouded his mind on particularly lonely nights. Just knowing that his friends loved him enough to do all of this warmed his heart beyond words, and their stern words of concern carried only good intentions. 

Silence fell over the room, heavy with awkwardness, until Mumbo spoke up again.

‘Uh, Iskall said- Or rather, the note said that xB had made food and you saved me some?' He said awkwardly, uncertain as to how long it'd been since Iskall left the note, or if it had even been Iskall who left the note after all.

Stress blinked, as if to pull herself out of a dream world before speaking. 'Oh right. I'm not sure if it's still good, breakfast was a while ago now love. Do you want me to make you something instead?'

*’Hey you! You’re finally awake!’ I thought, proceeding to leave the ooc sentence in. ((This fic is mostly complete, just need to write the ending (Tango and Impulse finish up Mumbo’s sorting system, bit more fluff) and fix up the dialogue a bit. Okay so it’s actually not that complete but shush.))

Wels Sleep [Actual title to be determined, angst or hurt/comfort, half complete]

Wels woke up more tired than he'd ever been. His entire body felt heavy as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, and yet he was determined not to go back to sleep. There were things to be done, and even if he only managed to do a little bit, that was still more productive than sleeping the day away.

He struggled to put on his oddly heavy armour, a tired sigh escaped his lips as he started brewing some tea, and he couldn't help but yawn as he finally sat down again. The hot tea helped wake him up somewhat, but at this rate he'd collapse as soon as he got out the door.

Something seemed off about the view outside, but at another glance it seemed like everything was in the right place, even if he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. There was the same crazy build battle, and the same castle wall, so it must have been the rain that threw him off, or perhaps the tiredness that weighed down his bones was affecting his head as well. The trip through the nether was suffocating, the heat that pressed around him making him wish for the comfortable weight of blankets, and he was thankful for the cool air of the overworld once the journey that seemed to take far too long was over. Though he had to admit, there seemed to be a few more portals than he remembered. When his oddly tired eyes saw the rest of the medieval district, the medieval district he hadn't gotten around to building yet, the place which had seemingly grown several houses overnight, his growing suspicions were confirmed. He'd gone on hiatus.

He internally thanked whatever had given him the drive to stay awake, as if he'd gone back to sleep he probably would have slept in another week, but now the question was how long he'd been out for. From the look of the builds it must have been at least a month, but he couldn't say much more than that. There wasn't anything in the medieval district that he could tell the time from, so he'd have to check with the other hermits to know exactly how long it'd been. 

This wasn't his first hiatus on the hermitcraft server, but it still felt odd, knowing that he'd been asleep for... However long it had been, especially knowing how much stuff the hermits could get done in under a month. No doubt he'd have trouble even finding the landmarks he was used to navigating with, although New Hermit... Ville? New Hermiton? He wasn't entirely sure, but it looked relatively unchanged.

Speaking of hermits, he thought, who was online right now? He raised his wrist to check his communicator hadn't broke during the time he'd been out, and luckily it looked like it was without scratches. It did take a few taps before it finally started, which was odd, because communicators usually only had issues on inactive servers, and Hermitcraft was anything but inactive when he left. Perhaps it was his communicator?

Either way, he made a mental note to talk to Xisuma about that, and looked at the screen before him. It had the usual joining message, but none of the 'Hey Wels!' he'd come to expect from the server. Looking at the list of those awake, it was easy to see why - no other names were listed underneath his, which struck him as odd. Usually there was at least a hermit AFK at a farm somewhere, as opposed to the unfamiliar sight of the completely empty server list before him.

Wels blinked, shaking his head slightly as he came back to reality. It was probably nothing, and he was still curious about the progress the hermits had made while he was out. So, with a shake to unfurl his wings, he instead decided to go for a fly around the server - knowing the hermits, even the terrain was probably different. Although he had been preparing himself for this, it was still a very weird feeling as he found himself unfamiliar with parts of his surroundings, the completed minecart tracks that slowly disappeared out of sight a bitter reminder that he had been gone longer than he knew.

The list of new structures grew and grew, and he wondered so hopelessly how long he'd been out as the hours passed with no other hermits logging on. If something bad had happened, they'd surely have left *something* to explain the events that took place, but the eerie silence simply filled his bones with a deep dread.

The shopping district was filled with stocked shops but no profits, just chests and chests of products and prices, yet not a single diamond in sight. Some shops were sold out, or had stacks missing from them, but it looked liked no recent customers had stopped by, not even in the most frequented shops. Cherry computers, the most profitable business on the server that Wels could so clearly recall [] complaining was sold out of repeaters again just yesterday, yet now the entrance was blocked off and nearby a giant timer using diamonds instead of sand with a Cherry Computers logo on top towered menacingly above the shopping district that wasn't his shopping district.

(TW: attempt at writing a sort-of panic attack? Not very good but fair warning anyway) He found himself staring at the floor, trembling, the only one online with no one to walk him through what had changed overnight even though it was not overnight and why wasn't anyone online and why wasn't there a sign somewhere, anywhere, something to explain what had happened when he wasn't there even though he should have been there with them but he didn't get a choice and why wasn't anyone online-

When Wels finally regained his sense of self enough to check where he was, he found himself inside of [], holding a stack of golden carrots that he was sure hadn't been in his inventory earlier. He vaguely recalled prying open the chest with shaking hands, although he could not remember if he had paid. A quick check of the chest revealed that he hadn't left any diamonds in compensation for the food in his hands, although he couldn't help but wonder if it was even necessary with the state of the shopping district. Despite his doubts, he left the appropriate amount of diamonds anyway, not wanting to risk the chance that the haunting silence was all in his head.

His communicator showed that no one else was online.

Despite the fruitlessness of it, he found himself typing a message into the chat. It was only a simple 'Hello?', but he couldn't help but hope that he would receive a message back. Perhaps his communicator had broken, he thought, and someone would be online and able to respond to his message.

The unchanging display declared that as untrue.

Finally, he gathered up his courage and walked back outside. He didn't need anything else from the shopping district, and even being out here once again triggered his anxiety, so he figured it was time to go back to his base. He'd figure out what to do next over a cup of tea, which he could certainly use right now. Xisuma and Biffa always loved tea, he thought bitterly, the face of his old friends surfacing at the mention. No, he corrected himself, Xisuma and Biffa were still alive and enjoying tea, and he would see them again soon. He couldn't give up hope just yet.

That tea was the worst he'd had in a while, bitter with the taste of his thoughts despite all the sugar he desperately added in an attempt to overwhelm the doubts that haunted him.

The list that declared him alone on the server did little to help.The next day he felt far more awake, almost too much so. It gave his mind far too much power to fill the silence, and so he decided to work on a project that involved noises. A doorbell, perhaps? Or maybe a mob farm. It didn't matter, just something else for his mind to focus on instead of the mystery as to where his friends were, and why they hadn't told him. Well, they couldn't have *told* him specifically, but sending a private message or placing a sign or book would have achieved the same effect.

At that thought, he once again looked at the communicator, and switched over to the last private messages he had received. It was the third time he'd checked, but it wouldn't hurt to check again. Unsurprisingly, the latest message remained an inquiry as to possibly collaborating on a project that had since been completed, something he'd noted as he flew about the server. 

He decided to work on [project here] instead.The repetitive *clonk* of placing blocks drove away his thoughts for a while, more interested in getting measurements right than pondering the fate of his friends, but all too soon he got into a rhythm, and his worries made themselves known again. Frustrated he looked down at his feet, focusing solely on the task at hand with all his might, but it was no use, as seconds later he caught himself zoning out and theorizing as to what had happened again.

((Inspired by this post, Wels sleeping through season six angst, though with a bit of canon divergence sprinkled in. Anything marked with ‘[]’ is to be filled in later after I’ve double checked locations / products / interactions. Things marked with ‘* *’ are to be italicized later. Plans for this are that Cub finally comes online and Wels is like ‘and you didn’t tell me??’, possible Helsknight reference)) [There’s also a wip watcher!grian fic but that one is really long and needs to be updated severely (started writing at beginning of season seven) so not putting here]