wubby

>be me, typical eighteen year old shitposter

>go to school

>early spring of my senior year, already sick of this shit

>first period is AP Physics, I have no idea what's happening in it anymore

>only took it because my guidance counselor forced me to

>class is filled with the nerdiest fucking kids in school

>mostly girls

>they're nice I guess but can't really relate to them

>one of the guys also tutors me for free, so can't complain there either

>his name is Jake, maybe one of the smartest kids in the whole school

>he's tall and lanky as hell

>in contention for the valedictorian spot, probably heading for MIT or something

>okay dude, but again, giant nerd

>one day show up, Jake's not there

>the class is so tiny and the attendance rate so high that it's very noticeable

>teacher says we'll wait for him

>sounds great, not in the mood for electrostatics at 8:00 in the morning

>thanks Jake

>take out my phone and start reading shitposts while all the nerds talk about random math shit

>goes on for like twenty minutes, teacher is obsessed with Jake

>whatever, not my problem

>suddenly the door opens, still looking at my phone so not really paying attention

>entire room goes dead silent, everyone gasps

>raise my head, it’s Jake

>his whole body is covered in pink freckles, and he’s smiling like an idiot

>holy fuck, Jake triggered

>he’s a Wubby

>everybody instantly goes apeshit

>they really shouldn’t, this has been a regular part of our society for the last eighty years

>start frantically trying to remember all the Wubby stats they taught us in health class

>statistically, about one in every eighty people will trigger and turn into Wubbies

>over 99.99% of people who do trigger will do so between the ages of seventeen to nineteen, so only us seniors really have to worry too much about it

>Wubbyism is caused by a specific genetic reaction to an antibiotic resistant pathogen that virtually everyone on the planet has already been exposed to

>the pathogen was accidentally created by some endocrinologist studying hormones back in the early 2030s and it spread like wildfire

>the genetic reaction that determines if the pathogen affects you isn’t infectious, so whether someone gets triggered by it or not is completely up to luck

>if you do get it, you’re fucked

>Wubbies are stupid

>like really, really fucking stupid

>if you are one of the people who react to the pathogen, your body essentially loses the ability to tolerate dopamine and a bunch of other hormones in the way that it’s supposed to

>totally fucks up your brain chemistry, and you get stuck in a permanent state of euphoria

>Wubbies are constantly happy because of this

>it’s basically impossible to get one to stop smiling or experience any type of pain

>there are studies that prove that Wubbies are literally unable to understand the concept of negativity

>they can’t experience anger, fear, sadness, annoyance, etc

>just pure unending bliss for the rest of their lives

>might sound like fun, but on a practical level this makes them so dumb that they can’t do anything requiring the slightest bit of thought or dexterity

>all they can do is focus on how wonderful everything is and how much they love everyone

>that’s just the mental stuff, of course

>there’s also the physical aspects brought on by the hormonal havoc the pathogens cause

>the most obvious being the gender swap

>guys like Jake who trigger and become Wubbies will experience rapid physical changes at the same time as the mental ones, including severe loss of muscle mass

>the full change of sex only takes about a minute, and Wubbies are changed down to the chromosomal level, so it’s as if they were born a girl

>hell, if the government didn’t sterilize them they’d be able to have kids the same as non-Wubbies

>girls who become Wubbies also experience a rapid sex change

>both changes tend to exaggerate the proportions of either gender, so girl Wubbies are almost universally small, short, and petite, and guy Wubbies tend to end up being pretty damn tall and beefy

>from a purely physical viewpoint, they also tend to be fairly attractive

>not that I'm a fucking Wubbycon

>with how stupidly happy they act, it probably wouldn’t be difficult to identify them from a distance, but Wubbies have a natural physical characteristic that makes it impossible to miss one

>the pathogen messes up their melanin production, so all Wubbies develop pink freckle-like spots on every inch of their bodies

>it doesn’t have any consequences beyond aesthetics, but it does serve as a warning

>it’s usually the first sign of the change happening, as with Jake

>obviously back when this all started, people weren’t too happy about it

>nobody wanted to raise someone for over a decade and a half only for them to turn into a dumb pink idiot with the emotionally capacity of a golden retriever

>there was huge outrage and push for the government to find a cure

>the scientist who caused it all was initially sentenced to life in prison and almost got the death penalty

>but then some really freaky stuff started to happen

>a fuckton of people with serious illnesses started to get better

>like, terminal cancer patients in hospice making full unexplained recoveries, alzheimer patients suddenly regaining full lucidity, disabled people able to walk again

>shit like that

>at first nobody thought to link any of it, but someone eventually did a study and it was discovered that people living within a three mile wide radius of Wubbies had insanely better health outcomes

>and that wasn’t all

>greater reported happiness, higher IQ and work productivity, longer life expectancies

>a person who lives within walking distance of a Wubby can literally expect to live fifty years longer than someone who doesn’t

>this was all because of Wubbies

>they are basically hormone factories with a potency over ten thousand times that of a normal human

>for whatever reason, they are immune to most diseases, and it takes far longer for them to age on account of the way their DNA has restructured itself

>so when other people get in contact with the antibodies that Wubbies naturally put out, they get all those staggering health and wellness benefits without any of the intelligence draining consequences that the Wubbies themselves face

>just breathing in the air near a Wubby makes regular people into happy and healthy superversions of themselves

>after they discovered all this, folks suddenly didn’t mind it all that much

>nobody wanted to become a Wubby themselves, but having them as a part of society was seen as more than worth it for the total eradication of cancer and about 95% of human illness

>by the time I was born, all this had already been normalized

>Wubbies obviously can’t attend school or hold down a job, and they tend to require a lot of care, so they live together in very well funded government group homes with caretakers and other Wubbies

>there are a ton of laws meant to protect Wubbies, so they live extremely comfortable lives

>the hormones they create in the air are bottled and distributed out throughout the country, especially in rural areas, and the global GDP produced by the direct effects of Wubby hormones is estimated to be in the tens of trillions

>they don’t have a lot of freedom, but as expected they don’t really give a shit

>they just spend all their time hugging each other and talking about how happy they are

>Wubbies are supposed to be really crazy about hugs, which they call “huggies”

>if you let two Wubbies hug, they will sit there for hours if not stopped

>it’s kinda sad

>not that Jake feels that way, at least anymore

>it looks like he triggered a few seconds before walking into the room, and we all watch as the spots spread all over his body

>he’s lucky that the mental side hit him first, or else he’d definitely be freaking the fuck out

>the fact that it’s such a smart dude triggering makes it all the more noticeable

>literally going from a future Harvard grad to “square peg in round hole” level stupidity in less than a few seconds

>nobody stops him from slowly waltzing over to his seat

>by the time he gets there he’s about a foot shorter

>everyone is being quiet and respectful, pretending nothing is happening, nobody wants to spook him

>since we are seniors, we’ve already had a ton of assemblies about what to do when this happens

>the protocol for when a Wubby is changing is to not react until it’s totally finished, even if they are already smiling and looking dumb

>if the mental effects haven’t been completed than the person might realize what’s happening to them and start panicking

>we don’t have this problem with Jake, though, who remains oblivious the whole time

>another minute passes and soon a cute-looking pink Wubby is smiling mindlessly in her seat, drowning in clothes that are way too big for her

>barely over five feet tall, and just like most Wubby chicks, fairly well endowed

>seeing that it’s over, the teacher walks over to her and asks her how she’s feeling

>she giggles and asks for a huggy

>surprise surprise

>the teacher tells the other students to talk to her and calls up the office to report what happened, tells us that they won’t be here for another twenty minutes to pick Jake up

>feel bad for Jake, but at least we won’t be having a Physics lesson this morning

>Jake won't ever have one again

>the girls immediately pounce on her, congratulating her and telling her how good she looks, giving her the long huggies she so desperately craves

>Jake is loving every moment of it, although she’d probably be almost as happy staring at a wall

>you’d assume that people would feel bad for her, considering the bright future she’s missed out on, but that isn’t the case

>among the cocktail of chemicals Wubbies put out are happiness hormones, which tend to make people very accepting of Wubbies

>they are put out in excess when a Wubby first changes, so everyone tends to get extra smiley right after a transformation and really wants to be near them

>mostly everyone, anyway

>around 3% of the population isn’t affected by some of the hormones Wubbies put out, and so they don’t quite understand the Wubby worship

>this includes me

>sadly this partial immunity doesn’t extend towards becoming a Wubby myself, so I still have to worry about that

>the chances are even higher for those who are resistant to them, actually

>but at least I don’t fawn over them the way everyone else does

>the twenty minutes pass surprisingly quickly, and “Jackie” laps up the attention and huggies like the happiest girl in the world, a circle of hormone-craving crazies surrounding her

>the girls had just started braiding her hair when two WPS agents come in

>Wubby Protective Services

>they both smile and thank everyone for taking care of Jackie, and then calmly ask her to come with them

>she giggles again and gives a few people quick goodbye huggies, and is soon out the door

>we can hear her laughing down the hallway as they take her to the group home

>everyone knows that we will never see Jake in school again, but the mood in the room isn’t somber at all

>no one can stop talking about Jackie, including the teacher, everyone’s so happy for her

>at least the teacher has totally given up on trying to teach us anything

>tfw no electrostatics

>three weeks later, be in the cafeteria for lunch

>it was a big deal for awhile, but most kids stopped talking about Jackie already

>considering how big our school is, there will be at least half a dozen transformations a school year, so everyone’s still lying in wait for the next one

>having a shitty day, found out I failed the electrostatics test

>the class got a lot harder without my tutor, lucky me

>was thinking about talking to my counselor to see if she’d let me switch over to another class when I hear a scream from the other side of the cafeteria

>look over with everyone else, it’s Amelia Longstock

>not someone I know well, just a typical goth chick

>seemed chill from the brief interactions I had with her in chem class, even if I didn’t get her sense of fashion

>she’s triggering, her skin's already loaded with freckles

>apparently one of the people she was sitting with noticed and pointed it out without thinking, and Amelia caught wind of what was happening before she got hit with the dumbo stick

>took one look at her pink dotted hand and started screeching

>one or two people tried to grab her to pull her into a hug, which is the second tactic to employ if they panic mid-transformation, but she dodges them and bolts towards the exit door

>it goes right into a big grass field in back of the school, and dozens of us follow her out despite teachers yelling at everyone to stay inside

>one girl on the track team was right near the door when it happened, and she was the first to make it out behind Amelia

>Amelia hoofs it a few hundred feet out despite visible physical changes, and we watch in awe as her outline grows taller and pinker against the afternoon sun

>a bunch of people chase her down at first, but only the track chick is moving fast enough, so everybody else drops out and watches them go

>Amelia starts going even faster once her legs lengthen enough, but she eventually starts stumbling a bit and it’s clear she isn’t gonna last much longer

>the mental changes start really fucking her up and she stops to pause and figure out what's happening to her

>track girl finally gets to Amelia during this and gives her a giant hug from behind

>the height difference is super noticeable by this point, she’s huge, Amelia doesn’t even flinch as the girl basically tackles her from behind

>she isn’t the right word anymore, either

>he turns around to hug her from the front, no fight left

>they stand there together for a minute and eventually the track chick nudges him to stop and she leads him back to the school with a proud smile on her face

>his smile is even bigger

>already dumb as rocks

>the Wubby version of Amelia is incredibly tall and muscular, even for a Wubby

>makes him look extra ridiculous wearing a ton of dark makeup and a ripped up dress

>not that he cares, all clothing (or lack thereof) is now equally wonderful from his POV

>a bunch of people compliment him and take big whiffs of the fresh hormones in the air

>someone jokes about him not having a hard time getting together with a Wubby girl once he gets to the group home

>he laughs but clearly doesn’t understand

>Wubbies have “nice touchies”, relationships, and even get married to each other on occasion, but they are for the most part very asexual

>huggies are pure

>non-Wubbies who try to do stuff with Wubbies go to prison

>rightfully so, fuck off Wubbycons

>teachers order everyone back into the cafeteria, and him and the track girl go to the office to wait for the WPS to arrive

>track girl gets an award, Amilo gets to live at the Wubby home for the rest of his life, and me and everyone else who went outside without permission get detentions

>fml

>a few weeks later afterschool, be at friday detention with around twenty people

>only got one detention for being outside during the Amelia fiasco, but didn’t show up, so they gave me more detentions

>bored as hell, try to use the time to study for electrostatics

>it sucks, can’t do it

>eventually just give up and decide to look at the window

>the girl to my left suddenly glances at me when I turn my head, and her eyes go wide

>she immediately forces her expression back to normal, trying to act like she wasn’t shocked, but I’m not dumb

>look at my hands, but don't see dots

>do a whiplash turn to the kid on my other side to see if he has a reaction to seeing my face

>he does, same look of surprise, it’s obvious I have freckles on my face

>fuck fuck fuck I’m triggering

>stand up and bolt out the door

>the teacher and the other kids leap toward me to try and get a hug in but I manage to toss an empty desk in front of the door and slam it on my way out, buying myself at least a few extra seconds

>thankfully the school has already mostly emptied out so no one is in the hallway to grab me

>go in a nearby stairwell, run up to the next floor and go into the deserted computer lab that I already know has a closet in the back with some furniture in it

>go inside the closet, block the door with some furniture, turn the lights off

>not trying to get away, just need some time to collect myself

>have a plan

>had always been scared of this happening, but got especially freaked out after the Amelia incident and did a ton of research online to see if there was anyway to stop or slow it down once it started

>it’s considered taboo to want to look for a “cure” to being a Wubby these days, since it’s viewed as a universally good thing by the vast majority of people who aren’t immune to the positivity-inducing effects of the hormones

>so stuff like that would be hard to find, but I did get something

>found a blog made by a guy in Sweden who had also started to trigger

>he was alone in the bathroom when it first happened and noticed pink freckles starting to pop up

>instead of crying or running for help, he just sat and got really pissed off

>like so angry that he started breaking down a door into splinters with his bare hands

>lasted like fifteen minutes but soon he started to realize that the change wasn’t progressing

>he connected the dots and realized that remaining angry had allowed him to hold off the changes for whatever reason

>presumably your brain can’t get a chance to focus on the happiness that sucks you in if you don’t let yourself have the chance to be happy in the first place

>decided to try and keep it up for however long he could

>kept the blog about it while he powered through to spread the word and motivate himself

>managed to hide the freckles he already had from his parents while also maintaining just enough anger to stop it for three months

>he theorized that if he continued for long enough to make it past the age where people no longer triggered, the process might stop

>didn’t make it that far though

>he couldn’t get too much sleep since he feared losing concentration in his dreams, so he was almost always sleep deprived

>only slept in thirty minute chunks with alarms

>he also had trouble forcing himself to be angry all the time, even moreso with the exhaustion

>one day just stopped posting altogether

>not hard to guess what happened

>still, he said he was only seventeen, and I was eighteen, so I had a bit of advantage

>would have to wait way less for the time when I couldn’t trigger anymore, at least if he’d been right

>started staring at a corner and forcing myself to get mad

>wasn’t that hard

>thought of my parents, school, electrostatics, the whole Wubby system

>the fact that nobody would give a shit about who I was before I triggered if I failed

>the fact that people were literally searching for me at that very moment to give me a huggy and make me into a dopey idiot so they could feel good

>a hug, not a huggy

>the fact that I’d seriously just had that thought

>eventually I got into a groove of feeling pissed off

>swedish anon said that he didn’t need to be in a blind rage all the time to stop it, just very upset

>kept it up for half an hour, felt like shit that this was happening but had to accept it if I didn’t want to be a permahugging dipshit

>eventually hear someone walking into the computer lab, they look around and eventually try opening the closet door

>when they ask if I’m in there, I keep silent

>they walk away and I immediately go back to planning my next move and trying to stay angry

>some more time passes, still a dude and the freckles aren’t progressing, so I’m good

>not that hard to stay angry when I go over what my options are, though

>a bunch of people already saw me with the freckles, and they are on my face, so I can’t hide them and play it off as me just going nuts

>suddenly someone knocks at the door

>”Anon, are you in there?”

>it’s a woman’s voice

>not any teacher or administrator of the school that I know

>stay quiet, but they don’t leave

>”We looked at the school cameras, Anon. We know you’re in there. Can I just talk? I’m from the WPS. Your teachers know that I’m talking to you, but I’m the only person here right now. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

>still don’t say anything

>”Please, can you open the door? Just let me in so we can talk. You can’t stay in there alone forever, right? We’ll find a way to deal with this.”

>think for a few seconds, but begrudgingly let her in, careful not to let my guard down emotionally

>figure that it’s better to deal with it now instead of later

>maybe I can convince her that I’ve stopped the changes and to let me be

>the computer lab is empty when I open the door, so at least she was honest about that

>she slowly comes in, shuts the door behind her

>she’s tall with a bob cut, maybe in her early thirties

>she’s wearing the regular WPS uniform, but has a really soft looking wool jacket on top of it

>looks comfy

>my eyes linger on it for some reason, have trouble breaking away from it to make direct eye contact

>see her pay attention to where I’m looking

>shake my head and try to stay mad

>”Are you okay, Anon? You understand what’s happening, right?”

>I tell her that I’m not a fucking idiot, don’t want to be talked down to

>she apologizes

>normally I’m not this edgy but I don’t have much of a choice

>stay silent for a little while, she quietly watches me, waiting for me to talk to her

>ask her if we can just forget what happened, point out that I’m fine and have barely changed outside of a few freckles

>“Anon, you started triggering. Nobody controls this stuff, but you should already know that it’s irreversible. I see kids your age trigger almost every day; it’s really not as bad as you think.”

>tell her to fuck off

>”I mean it, Anon. The only reason it bothers you right now is because you are resisting so much. You aren’t the first person to try raging through it. It doesn’t work.”

>say that I’ll make it work

>admittedly somewhat unnerved by the fact that she’d seen someone try this before but can’t give up

>for all I know she could be bluffing

>”What are your plans, then? Are you going to keep going to school like that? Everyone will know, and I promise that some people are going to try and hug you. It’ll be very hard to keep up under those conditions. If you’ve changed enough to have it start showing on the skin, it’s almost certainly altered your brain chemistry to the point where resisting that would feel like torture to you.”

>my stomach literally twinges when I hear her say the word hug

>bite my bottom lip to make it stop quivering as pleasant warm pulses flow through my whole body

>barely manage to stuff it all back down with more anger but it’s only getting harder

>she clearly takes note

>don’t say anything, she continues on

>”Anon, be reasonable. I know that this can be a very scary thing for a young person to experience, but it doesn’t have to be. I used to work at a Wubby Center myself; you wouldn’t believe how nice they are these days. It’s like living in a luxury hotel, people waiting on you hand and foot… and it’s not like you wouldn’t still be having a big impact on the world; it’s just a different kind of impact. Honestly, Wubbies contribute a lot more good for society than most regular people ever will.”

>tell her that none of that matters to me, that I’m not a Wubby

>“Really, Anon? So if I offered you a hug right now, you wouldn’t want it?”

>bit my lip again

>stutter out a no, tell her that I don’t in any way want a nice warm huggy

>realize what I said but try not to acknowledge it, feel hair start to grow past the back of my neck

>she smiles

>”Look, how ‘bout this. If you let me have one hug with you and then still don’t act like a Wubby, I’ll know that you can handle this, and I’ll tell them to let you go. Does that sound fair?”

>think about it

>it’s definitely risky, but seems like it could be worth it

>probably won’t have another chance to convince her

>besides, her jacket looks so warm and fluffy, one huggy couldn’t hurt

>nod softly, she smiles again, makes me feel better as she does

>she takes a step towards me and wraps both arms tightly but gently around my back, clasping them together

>i find myself doing the same

>we stay like that for a minute, she starts to softly whisper reassurances into my ear

>feel so safe and secure

>the jacket is even softer than it looked

>it’s a really nice huggy, maybe even the best I’ve ever had

>suddenly realize that I’m getting smaller

>my whole body is warm and tingly, especially around the chest

>little freckles are popping up, my clothes are getting way too big

>can’t think clearly either

>try remembering stuff about the electric picnics I was learning about earlier but I can’t

>start wriggling in her arms a bit, but she pulls me closer and doesn’t let me go

>“Is everything okay, Anon? I think this is a really nice huggy. I’m so jealous of you. You’ll get to have huggies like this every day.”

>look her in the eyes and ask her if she’s being serious

>she tells me that she is

>I can’t help but smile as wide as I can

>don’t feel upset at all anymore, but it’s okay

>especially if she's right and I get more huggies like this one

>we stand there for awhile and she keeps saying nice things in my ear and patting my back

>eventually she nudges my head and tells me that we have to go

>I giggle and ask her if I can have more huggies later

>she says yes, and I giggle again

>she opens the door and holds my hand tightly in hers, and we walk towards the school entrance together

>a few teachers smile when they see us and she says stuff to them and they say stuff back

>I’m not really listening, still thinking about getting those huggies

>eventually we get to the parking lot and her car, she buckles me in and we start driving towards the place she says I can get more huggies

>while we drive, I tell her how pretty she looks

>she thanks me and tells me that I’m pretty too

>giggle and watch the road pass by

>tfw I’m about to get more huggies