Curly90
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Summary
Juniper was supposed to die. Hospice bed, final save file, one last tearful montage.
Instead, she wakes up in My Time at Sandrock. Now in her hot builder body, and face-to-face with the fictional man she never got to romance.
She can’t build for shit, keeps bonding with people who feel too real, and might be in a feud with a recycler.
And Logan? Built like trouble, acts like comfort, and somehow ends up under her skin.
Juniper is finding out that you don’t have to be good at building to start putting yourself back together.
**ACT THREE SPOILERS**
The story starts right before Just Give A Whistle.
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You, Me, and the Blue Moon by ClimbedMtRocksand
Fandoms: My Time At Sandrock (Video Game)
05 Oct 2025
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Summary
New builder Maggie finds a friend and unlikely mentor in Sandrock's resident barkeep. His offer to teach her the ins and outs of Sandrock turns into a game of escalating feelings that neither of them were prepared for. *Spoilers throughout*
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There’s nothing like an apocalypse to make you realise there’s definitely something wrong with you.
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A woman wakes up with a throbbing head in a body that’s not her own in a building she doesn't recognise. Helpfully, society at large appears to have collapsed while she was unconscious.
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Our lovely protagonist finds herself unwillingly transported far from home. Struggling amidst the chaos, Alexandrea must learn to navigate her new surroundings and come to terms with her ill-fated predicament. As she races to stay alive, she discovers an unexpected yet familiar face.
[Not reposted elsewhere unless this message is removed]
Series
- Part 1 of The Displacement Series
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Summary
‘In a single instant, everything changed.’
When people say those words, it’s rarely taken seriously. An exaggeration some would call it – a grand overstatement and magnification for the mass of a jeering audience. Perhaps a punchline for a newspaper article, headlined in bold, black ink.
But your ‘single instant’ was, so to speak, very much a reality. And it started the way most distributed media articles do – grimly. Horrifically.
The more you thought about it, oh, and think you did, the more it resonated with you. Your life was an essay; an attention grabber. One tragedy after another typed out in Times New Roman and stamped in size twelve; double-spaced for ease of sight.
A white van, inlaid with tinted windows, a gun in the back of your spine…and a man with nothing visible but a pair of brown eyes that glinted amber from under a balaclava.
That was the instant, you knew, and then everything had changed.
It would have been kinder to take the bullet.