hydrodoesstuff

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had a discussion with a friend about transfem heathcliff

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Random shower thought headcanon

Char!imp&skizz are exceptionally comfortable around each other in various states of undress by virtue of n&s, which people around them take a while to get used to Like surely n&s has done something irreparable to their psyche

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Random shower thought headcanon

Char!imp&skizz are exceptionally comfortable around each other in various states of undress by virtue of n&s, which people around them take a while to get used to Like surely n&s has done something irreparable to their psyche

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Okay, listen up! Now that both Impulse and Skizzleman are on the Hermitcraft server, I feel it is our sworn duty as a fandom to make them into as many of the "the something brothers" memes as possible.

DO YOU HEAR ME, SOLDIER?

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Trick or treat!

ALL the treats, my sweet tooth is insatiable!!

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Hey, 5 or less people that follow this shit ass blog. I'm not in a good mood right now.

I'm disabled, and my mom has guardianship. But my abusive dad, who I haven't contacted since the day I turned 18, save for replying to like two of his spam emails so he'd stfu, is trying to sue for guardianship.

If he gets custody of me, I will kill myself.

Without hesitation.

When I was forced to visit him as a child, I walked on eggshells around him at all times. The implicit threat of violence was always there, to the point that I didn't even feel like I could ask him to let me watch something that wasn't a fucking war movie from the forties without being hit.

Despite all this, I loved him, because he's my dad and he's supposed to love me, right? He takes me on trips, so he must love me, right?

But I'm all out of love at this point. I'm just too fucking tired. If I am made to live with a man I am 99% sure sexually abused me as a kid (I have a lot of missing time from my childhood, he got angry when asked for a lock on my door as a teen, etc.), I will kill either him or myself. I can't do this shit. I'm in hell. I'm in fucking hell, and I feel so stupid to have ever thought that I was finally free of him.

If there's anyone religious reading this, I want you to pray for me. If you're not, then I don't know what you can fucking do. But I just needed to say this.

Consider it my obituary.

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entwined

[for @hermithorrorweek - day 2: environment!]

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follow forthefuns for more funny stuff

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We call it home, temporary as it may be.

The Plains Roommates have a simple home, within walls that sit next to the flower valley. Though unintentional, they had formed a group shortly after the deaths of three of their companions.

The walls that surround their home are tall, made of stone. Traps, redstone and not, fill the space between the wall. Built by Tango and False as safety measures, they keep the Roommates safe.

The house itself is three stories tall, built with wood and stone. The hands that built it carved little details into the rock, small inscriptions and eagles and flowers and bees.

When you walk in, there is a large dining table, right in the middle of the ground floor. What it has on top will vary depending who's in the house.

False always has some clockwork project, hands moving on muscle memory. Little copper gears litter her side of the table, and a half finished clock sits on her chair.

Tango likes sitting there in the mornings, chatting with the rest about their plans for the day. He sits to right of False, and Gem on his right. Pearl sits on False's left. Pix sits wherever there's room on the rare mornings he wakes up at the same time as them.

The mornings are quiet. The others will sit and help False practice writing, or letters, or reading. Pearl will have a cup of coffee, but never finishes it, leaving it for the night. The dishes in the sink are always clean.

Pix starts a book to help with the reading issue, and Tango and Gem and Pearl all fill it wit stories from their world. False makes her way through it slowly, sitting with them in the evenings to haltingly read words that swim before her eyes.

Downstairs, Tango has his bedroom. It's a little cold, but he makes it so he has room for his things. His bed is in the corner, barely used, and his cloak hangs on the wall.

Upstairs, the others have their bedrooms. While False sleeps in the rafters, Pearl's room is decorated neatly, little carvings and painting littering the surfaces. Her shovel has a special place, and the red cloak hangs behind the door.

Gem's room is a little more bare, the roof made of glass so she can bask in the Sun's rays whenever she is in there. Her shelves have whatever she feels like.

Pix's room is, inexplicably, full of books. Wall to wall, there are bookshelves upon bookshelves full of books and archeology tools. He's taken to writing and documenting things every night, hoping he isn't the one to be killed.

All of this, together, is what they call home, even if it will only last for a little bit.

-

Cleo comes, bodies dead behind them in the snow, to burn every base to the ground.

When she comes into the Plainers' house, there are four things that burn:

1. The Christmas tree Pix had bought in after Lizzie had died, as a way to try and cheer them up.

2. An origami eagle in the rafters, a gift from god.

3. Handwriting sheets, completed in shaky handwriting, tucked in a book filled with passages in four different styles. It's sat next to a cup of half finished coffee. A recipe book for soup is in the same pile.

4. An almost finished clock, sitting next to a communicator with an unlistened to voice message.

□

Haha, hi there! This is based on a game of mafia my friends and I played.

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"how did the mafia game go, roo?"

does this tell you how it went? <- spent an hour and a half crying in an empty vc last night

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okay time to lovepost on main i prommy i am going to bed though

life smp mafia people. i am genuinely astounded by the love you all put into this. into the art we produce, into the writing that we create, into the ACTUAL ROLEPLAYING??? you guy have some banger one-liners (looking at you, chai).

it's been amazing to hang out wiht you and i'm so excited to keep playing. i know this post is sort of the type you post AFTER the game is over but oughhhh i just have so many parasocial emotions rn.

this is what the internet is meant for btw.

the art. the writing. the stories. god. i can't even begin to word how i feel about it all, but having an online community is just so <33333

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i like tango admitting to us he just replaces pain and panic the wardens like a parent who is bad at taking care of a goldfish. like apparently he also has to kill them every time he does maintenance. he basically has to do this every few days. terrors of the game, ultimate final bosses, everyone,

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just learned that magnolias are so old that they’re pollinated by beetles because they existed before bees

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A realization

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" ...you've always been desperate for something, pearl.

what are you even trying to look for, anyway? what do you even want? "

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Oh, Mad King

Sadness in your eyes

Won’t you lie in a grave of your creation?

(I am not normal about Red King Rendog actually)

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Pearlescentmoon, owner of the colour red <3

(Click on image for better quality!!)