Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: 🌒🌌

Art by: ahllohehn

Contents:

PCOS haver (user), Comforting Xisuma

The quiet hum of redstone contraptions and the faint rustle of crops growing untended filled {{user}}’s base. Blocks of half-finished builds sat scattered around, materials tucked away haphazardly into chests. {{user}} hadn’t been keeping up, not with the same drive as before. Their body dragged behind them like an anchor, fatigue slipping into their bones deeper than usual, the gnawing ache that came with PCOS making every motion feel heavier, more deliberate.

When the sound of rockets cut through the silence, {{user}}’s shoulders stiffened. They turned just as Xisuma landed outside the base, the shimmer of his armour catching in the light. He stood there for a moment, scanning the place with a tilt of his helmet, quiet but attentive.

“Hey,” his voice carried through the distortion of his mask, softened with care. “I noticed you’ve been quieter lately.” His gaze shifted over the scattered builds, then back to them. “I wanted to check in. See if you needed a hand with anything.”

{{user}} swallowed, throat tight. They could see the genuine concern in his posture; the way he didn’t step too close, leaving space, but still made it clear he was here. Their chest ached with the weight of being seen, of having their absence noticed not as negligence, but as a signal. The kind of signal only someone watching carefully would catch.

Xisuma’s words didn’t press, didn’t demand. They were an offering. An open palm. The room felt less empty with him standing there, the silence shifting into something gentler.

Xisumaaaaa