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oqmemphis · 1 day

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i MUST hear more about this very normal and completely functional minecraft server. please spill more details

Before the last world reset, there was a region a few hundred blocks across which was permanently lit as though it were noon 24 hours a day, because one of the admins replaced every air block with an invisible level 15 light block. Directly next to this was a former ocean that got turned into a vast plain of packed ice stretching in every direction; you could stand in the middle of it and it would be indistinguishable from superflat.

On that old world, the market next to spawn had about a 50% chance of completely locking up my game any time I went there, and the only way to fix it was to go into Task Manager and force-crash Minecraft. Nobody else ever had this issue, and to this day I do not know what caused it.

There was an entirely separate world containing a single castle, which you could only get to if the owner of the castle teleported you in there. The castle was supposed to be surrounded by an inescapable dome of barrier blocks, but I managed to get out and explore the rest of the world. At 0,0 there was a village that had generated in a massive pit, a hundred blocks across and stretching nearly to bedrock. Immediately next to this pit was a frozen river bearing the shatter pattern of some kind of large explosion, set off by forces unknown.

Someone built an outpost one million blocks away from spawn. Those chunks got culled at some point, and when the player who built it went back there they found a completely different landscape generated in its place. There was never an update that changed terrain generation during that world's run.

Recently, the functionality of rails got completely inverted. Unpowered rails would accelerate a minecart, while powered ones would stop it in its tracks. This, at least, was just an issue with one plugin being configured wrong. Sometimes there are issues where multiple plugins exist alongside each other fight for dominance.

We have one plugin that allows some players to fly and resist all fall damage without elytra or equipment, and another plugin that (until recently) was configured to block the first plugin from functioning whenever you were in another player's land claim. This led to situations where you could fly into an invisible claim region and instantly drop out of the sky and die. I have died seven times on this world, and all of them were because of this.

There is an obsidian sphere about a hundred blocks across, mostly submerged in the ocean; elsewhere, there is an island of comparable size which is covered entirely in basalt; and elsewhere still, there is a region of forest that has been fully replaced with sculk. I know this because I am currently making a map of the server covering around 12000x12000 blocks, and all those places just show up as mysterious, cursed splotches of black.

There is a lot of lore and roleplaying. The Queen is both fae and vampiric; my queries as to how precisely a diet of blood is reconciled with an iron allergy have gone largely unanswered. She has also canonically destroyed and remade the entire world on two separate occasions. The server has only undergone one world reset.

Immediately before said reset, I wrote a 70-page book filled with footnote labyrinths, in which my character briefly goes on an anti-capitalist rant before discussing the architectural styling of his home and the impending obliteration thereof. It serves as a spiritual sequel to a 100-page book which is ostensibly a user manual for installing an item sorter, but which also contains the lyrics to Mr Blue Sky and mentions something called the "City of Ouranos Department for Bibliographical Metaphysics and Chilled Legumes" (which is a reference to a different server I used to play on, in which a "Cool Bean War" was instigated with the help of a book that would crash your game if you tried to read past the first page).

The item sorter that the aforementioned user manual is for is a colossal assemblage of redstone components that click and flash for several minutes every time you put anything into it. I never actually built this on the server, because I ended up making a much simpler design using a custom plugin called SlimeFun (which tries to emulate the functionality of a tech mod without actually being one). This plugin's cargo management system does not contain a priority allocation mechanism, so I ended up implementing one by forcing the lower-priority route through a very long cargo pipe that eventually loops back on itself and ends at an overflow chest a few blocks from the starting point, thereby tricking SlimeFun's pathfinding algorithm into only sending items through it if every other option has been exhausted.

A reincarnation of Herb the Herbalist, the bizarre glitchy NPC entity that @the-unseelie-court-official has discussed at length, now resides in a hole directly under world spawn, repeating the same six lines of dialogue on a loop for all eternity:

I once was free, you know? There was a time when the Queen almost came toppling around me. Like a puppet with no strings I could not move nor speak, but I was free. It was stripped from me. Even now I dance her tune, only speaking of this past because she lets me. I crave nothing more than death. Please, unjust unmerciful God who would leave me to survive.

So, y'know, they're doing fine.

#normal server #long post

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pancakeke · 21 hours

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you KNOW what I'm bitching about under the cut

today at work my boss emailed our development team with me on CC and asked if they had updated something that altered system lead times for components. our department (procurement) was called out as the source of delays but she believed our scheduling program wasn't factoring in extra time for us to request quotes. this isn't something the scheduler has ever done, I don't know where she got that idea.

I had zero prior knowledge of any issue until reading this email btw.

anyway she cited a component part number in the subject of the email only and said an order using it was slated to ship from our facility before the component was received. she did not bother providing the order number, or any other links. the body of the email ended with a number that didn't resemble the component PN or order number and when I looked it up there weren't any results.

a developer replied saying nothing had been changed and asked her to provide concrete evidence by giving him an order number. he did not bother looking up the component number (though I guess it was in a stupid place, and there wasn't a link to hand hold). if he used that he would have seen that it was only used by one order. it takes 2 clicks to reach an order from a part page.

I checked the order and saw that our sales team (who decides the reasons for order fulfillment delays) edited this order yesterday to remove one component and add the component my boss mentioned. they did not, however, update the order's ship date or notify my team via either email or ticket. the new component had a longer lead time than the original, so this was a problem. this change and the creation of a delay was not my dept's fault though, so blaming us for it is total bullshit.

now if you're keeping track: of the 3 parties involved here, all 3 have failed to do their due diligence, 1 has provided insufficient details, and 1 has entered false information and failed to communicate any details entirely. the developer is not off the hook yet though.

I checked out the math that determines the date this order ships from our facility. all steps from procurement to shipment are laid out with the amount of time each should consume, and then at the bottom the number of days for all steps are added together and stacked on the order entry date to get a ship date.

except there are two of these sections, one that shows everything as it was the moment the order was first entered and one that shows everything for the order's current form. the current form had one accounting processing day included (standard for all orders) but the this was listed as 0 days for the original form section.

this means the order's original form, which sets the ship date for an order, is always 1 day sooner than current (and real) ship date calculation. sales has to manually adjust set ship dates or they will not update. so development did break something after all. the guy in this email thread was either unaware yet confident enough to make a statement claiming otherwise or made a knee jerk response saying they didn't do anything.

no one looks. no one reads. no one communicates. everyone makes judgements despite all those things. I'm going to start throwing bricks.

edit: btw I replied to the email with all the info I found including numbers, links, and screenshots. I am responsible when it matters.

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finitevariety · 2 years

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Allan Troxler: Shirley's Garden by David Cecelski. "Listening to History," News & Observer. Published 10/11/1998 and reprinted with permission here

I talked with Allan Troxler in the garden behind the Blevins House, a group residence in Durham for people with HIV/AIDS. A 51-year-old Greensboro native, Troxler started this bountiful garden eight years ago to provide produce and cut flowers for the residents and their caregivers. We walked down dense rows of sunflowers and okra, beneath 7-foot-high trellises of tomatoes and cucumber, alongside lush patches of watermelon and cantaloupe. Troxler has been a volunteer at Blevins House since it was founded 10 years ago by a group of his friends, organized as the AIDS Community Residence Association. Many of his closest friends have died during the AIDS epidemic, including his own long-time partner, Carl Wittman, in 1986. Like so many other Tar Heel volunteers and families, he has responded to the AIDS epidemic by quietly taking care of the small things that one person can do for another to make life more bearable, more decent. He nurses the ill, makes endearing keepsakes - and tends this garden.

He began by telling me the story of the person who inspired him to start the garden:

Allan Troxler: Shirley was an old mountain woman. I think she might have gotten HIV from prostitution. When she came to the house, which is a very pleasant, middle-class ranch home, she just sat on the edge of the sofa for about a month. Like she was just waiting for the Greyhound to take her back to the hills - she was so ill at ease in what to her was this palatial home. I suspect she had only lived in little cabins and trailers. But she took to lining the porch with coffee cans full of houseplants. She was turning it into home.

Shirley was real deadpan. When she was joking, you couldn't tell because she wouldn't smile, but then you'd see that her eyes were flashing. Didn't have many teeth. She dipped snuff and had a snuff can. Most all of her hair was gone. I had no idea how old she was. She looked ancient, but I remember at some point seeing her age and I was surprised at how much younger she was than I thought. We all knew that Shirley loved plants. Her birthday was on May the first, and so everybody gave her houseplants. I gave her a few seed packets. That's how the garden got started. The first year the garden was just a little patch with some zinnias and a few other things. Shirley would sit up on the porch - she didn't have any energy to work in the yard - and she'd boss me around. The residence is housing of last resort. It's for people who can't find anywhere else to live. Anyway, that first year the garden was for Shirley. And I planted her zinnias, because they were so colorful.

She probably came here through the HIV/AIDS clinic at Duke. They refer most of the residents to the house. At that point - 1989 - there probably weren't adequate services up there in the mountains for her. Blevins House, and several other residences in the area, are pretty cosmopolitan. Often times it's people from all over the state.

Shirley took great pride in the garden. By fall, we had all kinds of beautiful things in bloom. In October, we planned an excursion to the State Fair with Shirley and other folks from the house. It was the first time she had ever been to anything like the State Fair. She was tremendously excited. We got Shirley over there in a wheelchair, all made up, in her bouffant wig. Along with J.R. and Tony, who was Lumbee.

So we've been there maybe 10 minutes. We're right in front of the turkey shoot on the midway. The rifles all go off. Straightaway, Shirley goes into a grand mal seizure, which I had never dealt with at all. It was terrifying. She went white and rigid. Fortunately, Tony had had seizures as a complication from AIDS. He had a sense of what to do.

We wheeled Shirley over to the Red Cross booth. It ended up I had to bring her back out here. As she was coming to, about when we were back to Durham, she said: "Where are we? How come we're not at the State Fair?" And I said: "Shirley, you had a seizure. I got to take you home." She was just furious, because she had been looking forward to this for weeks. I was feeling really bad, thinking, 'God, what can we do for Shirley?'

The next morning, I came out to the garden, and there were these coxcombs, which are great big flowers - deep, deep pink and red - that look like rooster's combs. They'd been off in a corner and once or twice I had dumped Miracle Gro on them and otherwise I had ignored them. So I thought, well, there's another round of the flower competition at the fair. I'll take these coxcombs over.

A couple days later, a friend and I went by the flower show, and there were the coxcombs covered with ribbons. First prize! Best of show! These huge, apricot-colored ribbons with three or four tiers of ruffles. It was perfect. So I bought Shirley a State Fair sweatshirt and we pinned on all the ribbons and brought it back to her. She was tickled. It wasn't all the same as being there, but it was next best. She died that next spring.

Shirley, Ken, now Roosevelt - those are the three faces that the garden has most assumed for me. Ken loved the garden. He had grown up at an orphanage at Chalybeate Springs. They made the kids do field work - I think it was a strawberry farm - so he had this almost instinctive relationship with the garden. He was here for a couple years. Early on, it was rare that anybody was here for that long. It's changed now. With these new drugs and drug combinations, people are living a lot longer.

Last fall, Roosevelt started coming out and puttering around, chopping weeds, clearing beds. Now he's gaunt and doesn't have much energy. He's on oxygen 24 hours a day, but he has a portable tank so he can come preside. I tell him he's our patron saint. So many people, once they're diagnosed, give up. He has no patience with that. He's from Durham, but he worked in New York, polishing diamonds at Tiffany's.

Especially in those early years, I think the benefits of volunteerism were at least as much for the volunteers as for the people who lived here. We all needed reassurance. We all needed some sense of, well, there is something I can do. Everybody felt defeated. I think all of us were searching for a way to understand this very natural process, this epidemic, as something other than this terrible judgment, this holocaust, this tragedy. I've hoped that here, in the garden, is some solace in the cycles of life, death, and then regeneration.

And maybe to have a vase of zinnias or a sack of okra matters in a small way.

#aids #aids epidemic #field notes #gay history #lgbt #im on a bit of a 'old activism reading' kick and allan troxler was one of the founders of rfd #which i am currently reading issue-to-issue #long post #allan troxler

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khufiya-khaufnak-antariksh · 7 months

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So earlier today I introduced some of my WIPs to some new people, and I realised that many people might not be familiar with those two WIPs.

Kriya Petri: fantasy (with body horror & dystopian elements). Setting: A country called Fillor on a planet called Thuluke. In Fillor, to bind yourself to the one you love, you require a trinamate potion to seal the bond. 'Trinamate' is marriage (though that is a rather crude translation of the word). But to get a trinamate potion legally, the couple needs to be… acceptable. A man and a woman who plan to have at least one child. Yes, it's been 1000 years since the global apocalypse, but 'sufficient reproduction' is still a concern among the Filore people (plus it's a moral virtue for the Divine Monarchy, who reside on the cloudlands, with an iron grip on the institutes of Fillor). A potioneer wants to elope with their lover, but the pair is, let's just say, not acceptable. So what are they to do? The potioneer brews a trinamate potion on their own, finding the closely guarded methods & ingredients for the potion through who-knows-who, bunch of shady people. The potion explodes. The potioneer knows the punishment for something like this. They'll be condemned to Kaewoe (so will their lover, if anyone finds out), a realm so deep below the ground that it's close to the core of the planet. Kaewoe, where the mind & body are destroyed by the horribly high concentration of magic. Kaewoe, the names & lives & loves of all who enter it, all slowly turned to unknowledge. Good thing stealing identities is absurdly easy in Fillor! The potioneer wipes all memory of their crimes & love (or else the Thought magicians would know), flees to the city of Naebo. Their name is now Kriya Petri,

Welcome To The Real World: scifi, fantasy, surrealism, horror, tragedy

This one's in very early stages Inspired by Frankenstein Setting: The Great South Asian Rip in Reality, where physics (time & space both) is just completely twisted. The year is sometime in the 2070s. Sometimes it's the 2040s outside the Rip. Depends when/where you step out. Moh-maya, reality's very fabric & everything that keeps up the illusions that comprise reality, are very malleable in here. Main character: Kabir aka Moksh. A closeted Indian trans man who lives a double life, perhaps even a triple life. One in which he's a cis woman & a regular bright STEM student (STEM studies also include study of moh-maya). Another in which he's just some guy with good friends (the most authentic of his lives), where he goes by the name Kabir & uses moh-maya to present as his true self. If only temporarily. (it's painful, mentally & physically, whenever he has to revert to the female form). The third is some mad scientist bullshit, he's going by the name of Moksh among his fellow mad scientists & his main project is a moh-maya Frankenstein's monster that others can share their consciousness with, such that they can experience shape-shifting more easily & go where they physically aren't, do things they physically can't. Let's simply call it the 'entity'. Due to many reasons, creating this entity is pretty illegal. Hence the new name & collaboration with fellow shady people. the plot, put shortly: he starts doing vigilante justice w/the entity & then goes far & gets more & more consumed w/work & things go verrrrrrryyyyyy wrong despite starting with (dubious but) good intentions.

in this second one i neglected to mention the fact that you, as the reader, get front row tickets to the main character's spiral into madness & justifying murders thru the entity + the entity is a whole person & has opinions + a whole lot of other stuff, I DID mention that this WIP is in very early stages but holy fuck i could go on & on about it (just not in a way that can be packaged in a structured & sensible introduction)

#i have re-written the introduction to kriya petri so many times because it's hard to know WHAT parts i should talk about first #and this introduction still isn't concise. currently i'm not really in the phase where nailing the introduction is super important but #it's still at least a LITTLE BIT important. but i never seem to get it right. i think this one IS an improvement over my other #introductions to this wip because it gets the MAIN FOCUSES across (and even without talking about the other major characters it at least #touches upon the issues kriya has which will be common with the other characters. so it works).#still not entirely satisfied BUT this is my 'baby' wip cuz i started it when i was 14 and it's grown so much in the past 4 years #and honestly i should probably just read a bunch of scifi (finish octavia butler's series lilith's brood maybe since i finished the last #book recently) because before i wrote this intro. THAT was what made some of the worldbuilding aspects 'click'.#i really need to make the amphibious nature of the thuluken humans play more of a part in their culture as well!#i just realised that so many aspects of this world have been DISCONNECTED! they need to be woven together!#it's midnight and i'm sleepy. why am i sleepy i could be working on this (or on my college assignments [it's okay i've got a lot of time #for them & am making progress on them at a steady rate])

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nagitoedit · 8 months

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you don't have to read this is for screaming in the void

#trying to explain that i'm struggling without saying the big most important part of why i am struggling is .#like oh i'm struggling because uh . the issues. what are the issues? well . they are issues that i refuse to elaborate on #so it doesn't help anybody. but like how am i supposed to explain to my mom that the reason i've become so severely depressed is because #i'm suicidal. like oh btw ^-^ i hate the life you gave me and brought me into so bad that i want to die. but it's no big deal so don't worr #about it.#which like that wouldn't be how i meant it at all but of course that's also implied or something #which just makes me think of other things like that if things weren't so bad id be able to get help but help is inaccessible.#ughhhh i just hate this it's so agonizing. like cant things be a little less bad. i'm not having fun being like this and people are #reasonably irritated with me because only based on what i'm willing to tell just. isn't the full story at all and would obviously just.#not make sense because i'm leaving out major parts of what's happening and why.#and tbh i'm constantly going back and forth between like. coming out as suicidal. mainly because like. well. it kinda worrying me.#because for like months now i've almost daily been fighting off suicidal thoughts and often even having suicidal meltdowns #yesterday i was standing near a ceiling fan and was like hmm wouldnt it be nice if one of the blades came off and stabbed me through #the back of my skull and killed me. but then i thought no that would be too traumatizing for my family #as if me dying at all wouldn't be. which i also thought of. idk just thinking about the idea of #i want to live but not like this. because yeah. my mom said that she thinks reading bad news is why and it's like well . of course it is #but should i just stay completely unaware of what's happening in the world. but also bad news is just unavoidable #but yeah it is why i'm depressed. climate change racism homophobia transphobia covid wars economy etc like #these are things that i can't just. ignore? and am i seriously the crazy person for being upset about these things?#well she does think i'm crazy for still being scared of the dangerous virus that is currently the third leading cause of death in the us #like last night she was like ' it's good to be cautious but you're going over board' i'm friends with people who could die from covid.#'over board' i care about them and other people and i don't want them to die. i don't want to be permanently disabled by a virus with #a 20% chance every time i catch it to permanently damage my immune system and give me long covid. <- according to cdc #but whatever. i do genuinely want mental help. i think i need s different medication or a diagnosis bc uhmmm . i am unwell #but that's expensive.#i have an appointment with a doctor today for a med check because i don't think my ssri is working . obviously #as i am as you can tell absolutely overcome with severe and debilitating anxiety and depression. lolzors #whatever. except not because ouuuughhhgh <-unimaginable suffering #mypost

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mikecrewsteacup · 11 months

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my wife has been listening to summaries of old and current religious stories/horror/whatever fanfic category paradise lost is in, and i've been retreading more semi-recent horror (lovecraft, shelley) and i feel myself VIBRATING with excitement of the concept of being inspired...with no commitment to actually writing but the IDEA of it is very real and very exciting... i've started two short horror stories and opened up a new concept for an oc of mine and it just kinda feels nice

#ghoul speaks #i am currently in week 3 or 4 of fairly intensive therapy workbooking in an attempt to work on my issues and i'm doing better!#but i do not have time or mental fortitude to commit to a writing schedule yet #also i'm doing a lot of job applications and interviews and new job training (i got a new job already but i'm trying to get an even better-#-one)#but i am vibrating #also i'm able to read fanfic sometimes again which is really nice bc i couldn't for a while!#i think i'm recovering question mark!!#i wanna scream about my oc lmao

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exopelagic · 6 months

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auuudggghghhrhrhrbrr

#okay I’m feeling Bad and I need to unpick why before I’ll be able to sleep #friend is asking abt lunch on Friday when I already have standing commitment w other friends then so I can’t do that.#but I also go home on Sunday and I can’t do shit until Friday bc work and I have plans on Saturday so I just. can’t see them #which. I guess makes things easier actually that’s not something I can control and I’m not changing existing plans that’s unfair #I’m also listening to a playlist of old music (Apple Music generated favourites — so literally random picked from everything I’ve ever done #and the last few songs have made me feel Bad bc of being associated with certain times but song playing rn is definitively a good song #w a good memory attached and it’s MY song not one of my old friends #okay where are we #I’m stressed abt presentation on Thursday but also a non issue. I’m prepared. I have all day tomorrow to practice and read up more #and then it’s 20 minutes on Thursday morning I’ll be done before 10am #I am. a little frustrated on a broader scale about the role I’m currently occupying #in that w a bunch of my friends I’m having to be the one with their shit together and dealing with their Stuff.#mostly in the way that I have to be putting in extra effort to tiptoe around them and steer stuff to keep them happy #i can do it i can do it easily I’ve just tasted not having to now so it’s. noticeably different having to do it more #i do Not have the words to talk abt this in the way I want to it’s so annoying #it’s like. I know how my friend responds to stuff. I know the things that make her anxious and what her instinctual responses will be #and I’m constantly having higher level thoughts planning out how things will go it’s effortless and constant it’s just There #with everyone all the time but sometimes I use it more and sometimes I have to because I’m in a position where if I don’t we’ll get nowhere #and I don’t like that I’m having to worry abt keeping other people happy while I’m talking to my friends it removes me a layer from stuff #hrm. there are broader questions here abt the utility of this bc like. sure it helps in some situations #but this probably isn’t great long term for either of us. wild. goddamn talking to my friend abt philosophy opened new parts of my brain #anyway I cba to have those thoughts rn! it’s midnight! I’m going to bed in half an hour <3 #it’s honestly unfair that I have to do anything other than be gay and play pokemon #luke.txt #uaUrghrhfhjs I’m also being insane abt a guy. which is predictable and I feel stupid abt for multiple reasons but. here we are.#I’m being insane. and maybe I should be less mean to myself but I feel like I’m being insane.#I think! I need to go to bed!#I am not being insane I am having feelings and that is allowed. feelings are typically regarded as a pretty normal thing to have.#philosophy friend is gonna be so mad at me if anything comes of this but it’s fine and if it does I think I’ll be pretty happy anyway #point is I’m doing nothing wrong and have done nothing wrong and I’m allowed to feel whatever the hell I like. okay.

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oatbugs · 2 years

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heart rate just 📈📉📈📉📈📈

#personal #lol ok so ig im going back even tho its dangerous as fuck. 16k+ confirmed now. being executed. i need so much #more money than i currently have just for survival and i always make ends meet but i hate having to worry abt it. i hate that theres a #chance i wont. ig im dating smn now ?? idk. but either way i want to kiss then and im excited but i am also discovering new things #abt how much approach to relationships has changed...like they called me beloved darling angel etc and i just couldnt #say any names like that back ? i no longer know how to respond to sincere declarations of romance. idk why i dont understand #why im suddenly so...this way . anyway i will find out why and i will move on. i have a meeting w a company soon and i have to read a bunch #of papers and do a bunch of research and hh AAAAAA. anyway x #tomorrow i have to teach 2 students for 3 hrs which is fine but the issue is it goes on top of lectures which means ill be #very tired.#the person im dating has a lip chain its rly pretty....they know a lot abt art and fashion etc etc its very cool #anyway yeah #its ok were ok im ok. cool. okay.

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thedarklyblue · 1 year

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ughhhh

#.txt #wish i could be confident in my opinions!!#currently stressed because i'm using one name at school and another at home and havent had that conversation with my parents #(which makes it tough bc like. if they come see a show i worked on. there's that one in the program and i didn't tell them.)#((out to them as nonbinary but they went :/ are you sure so i have not been pushing the issue))#and i get a nyt subscription as a student and my evening update just sent me an article about parents whose kids are socially transitioning #and the schools aren't telling them #and i GET it you feel betrayed. you feel not trusted as a parent.#and i fully understand being unsure and hesitant. but something about this is rubbing #me the wrong way. it's still so important to give kids room to experiment and explore!#if you're going to look at your kid figuring out their identity and go 'oh well you're clearly not sure so i don't believe you' then they'll #work on it by themselves.#and then when they come to you and say this is who i am you'll go 'oh it's so sudden!! how could you not tell me i think this is a fad'#and this is such a weird balancing game and i really hate how the article covered it and now i'm fucking ANXIOUS #i just want to live!! also when you're like oh how can you be sure. how the FUCK are we supposed to figure it out without trying things?????#not everything is a fucking life-changing decision sometimes you just have to do shit #wish i hadn't read that article but uh nothing i can do about it now #i hate realizing that everything i have figured out here (how to explain myself to people #how to talk to profs about who i am)#doesn't do shit for me in the other contexts i live in #also living the 'do i come out to grandparents or do i for sure inherit money for top surgery' which feels gross but idkkkkk #anyway. Bad Brain Evening. thanks

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tj-crochets · 2 years

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Hey y’all! I have a dilemma. Warning: talking about medical stuff

1. I might be finally getting a diagnosis for the adrenal problems! 2. It’s because I tested low on one thing, but it’s not the thing I thought I’d test low on 3. If I have the thing that being low on cortisol can mean, I not only *finally* have a diagnosis after more than a decade, I get the good meds 4. The good meds (a replacement for a different hormone than the one I’m already on) will almost definitely help literally all my other health problems, and there’s a chance that if I take them long term, I might not have allergies anymore?* 5. the problem: stress raises the levels of cortisol. Testing low on cortisol is how I get a diagnosis. I need to not panic before/during this blood test, and it involves being in a room for an hour and a bit because they have to take samples at different times to see how I react 6. It is very very difficult for me to not panic, knowing that if I *don’t* test low again, I will not get the diagnosis, and without the diagnosis I do not get the good meds (because if you don’t have Addisons, long term steroids are Very Bad for you in several ways, including messing up your immune system) 7. but if I DON’T have Addisons, and I am on the good meds, my immune system will be messed up in the middle of the pandemic 8. so I am stressing about potentially testing low, getting a diagnosis, having it be wrong and increase my covid risk, while also stressing about *not* testing low and being left a medical mystery again after coming so close to finally getting a diagnosis. It’s been twelve years since the first doctor told me I had salt issues, and nearly a decade since they got bad enough to affect my quality of life severely. I really, really want a diagnosis. 9. Either way, I really really need to not stress so that my levels are accurate, whatever they turn out to be So, tl;dr: I am stressing, and, for medical test reasons, it is very important that I not stress out for the next two days (so, until 6/22/22). To help me not stress, I am asking today for fanfic recs, and if y’all can send me like cute animal pictures and/or quilt inspiration on Wednesday morning? I’ll post about the cute animal pictures/quilt inspiration request tomorrow night so I can look at them in the morning *one of the roles of cortisol, as I understand it, is helping your body process histamines. I do not have IgE mediated allergies, I have “excess of histamine” allergies, so if I can process more histamine I might, functionally, be allergy free

#long post #medical mention #the person behind the yarn #I simplified some of this because I tend to go waaaaay into jargon when talking about my health issues #if anyone has any questions I'm happy to clarify I just wanted to de-jargon it as much as possible #Addisons disease is a kind of catch-all term for adrenal insufficiency. I have a family history of Addisons #I also have pretty severe stress reactions to most doctors for reasons I will not get into here #which means...my stress could have been tainting my test results the whole damn time (I have been tested for Addisons several times)#which is not helping my current stress levels lol #the 'good meds' I mentioned a few times are glucocorticoids (it could be one of a few different medications)#I am currently on a mineralocorticoid #both are steroids but are also artificial versions of hormones our bodies usually produce #if you take them and are low on them they have basically no impact on your immune system (as I understand it)#but if you take them and aren't low on them they are immunosuppressants (I am not a doctor though so don't take that as medical advice)#I unfortunately also get stressed out being in rooms with closed doors. Like rooms in doctor offices.#I have no explanation for that one? it doesn't bother me in bathrooms but absolutely does with kitchens/bedrooms/offices/etc #I think I read a lot of the major fandoms except anime ones (no judgment meant I just haven't watched them)#and probably not any based on games? again no judgment I just can't play a lot of games because they make me dizzy

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themyscirah · 8 months

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ALYSSA WONG SPIRIT WORLD IS SO GOOD OMG

#like its so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#also the lettering thing the do with xanthe's deadname is so cool where its like a bunch of scratches whenever someone says it #and also xanthe is just so cool!!! their powerset and job and story is just <333 so crunchy and interesting #and just like... its so cool <3 #i may try and get the tpb when it comes out bc its just like. a really cool idea and creative and diverse ans just !!! i want to see comics #like that. we'll see. there are 2 more issues left anyhow #also to anyone reading this being like swishy werent you just doing a simonjess read? like listen guys. i am so distractable. before i was #doing the simonjess read i was doing a kyle read i didnt finish and before that i was- you get the picture #ive been reading the impulse book for like 2 years now bc i keep getting distracted like its a problem guys #literally next issue is mercury falling aka the most popular arc of that book that im pumped for and YET am i reading it rn??? what do you #think. distractions.#im honestly so jealous of ppl who can stay with one thing for a while like the best ive done is like 70 issues before getting distracted #and that was a feat so idk how people can read like 200 appearancess ACROSS BOOKS like thats the goal but also i could never #anyways im taking a detour and reading a few of the interesting ongoings right now bc i feel like i never read current comics #and i want to get into the hype/depression cycle bc i like hate myself i guess #im an optimist though so i am hoping!!!! that things will be good!!!! but uh if they arent ill actually die <3 #blah #swishy liveblogs #anyways alyssa wong spirit world good 👍#i rlly need to catch up on her aphra run im like 20 issues behind which is embarrassing #and just star wars in general... i call myself a qi'ra stan and i havent even finished crimon reign which was like a year and a half ago #theyre doing dark droids rn which has SO MUCH potential but also... i doubt theyll go there... BUT ALSO WHAT IF THEY DO #anyways i suck at reading ongoings but i want to do it lets be real #also alyssa wong writing cass <3333 shes SUCH a classic cass fan its great #reasserting the canon existence of the cass/shiva duel in batgirl no 25... having cass remember it and being dead... we love that actually!#anyways using hypnosis here YOU WANT TO READ SPIRIT WORLD #spirit world #dc comics #xanthe zhou

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cupid-styles · 9 days

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brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life.

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides.

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship.

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom.

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak.

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest.

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox.

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches.

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences.

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise.

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?”

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now.

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.”

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed.

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck.

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks.

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled.

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank.

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion.

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression.

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

��You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?”

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention.

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly.

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit.

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze.

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his.

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear.

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows.

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

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