When It’s Really Bad Again And It’s Still Way Better Than It Used To Be But It’s Still Really Bad.

how january has felt so far

i cant get over nices fuckass bedroom. COMPLETELY empty save for one statue. of himself. at the entrance. bed on the floor. surrounded by water. blanket is a millimeter thick and a single square foot. this is truly the bedroom of a man who lives alone

I want to fly, I want to fly so bad it hurts. I've so desperately wanted to fly since I can first remember. Like imagine it. Being up so high that the ground begins to fade away. Just you and the sky and the clouds and the wind. Day and night. The wind so loud you can't even hear yourself laughing. So free and weightless. This is all you're made for, you were made for the sky. Meant to soar through clouds and stars and sunlight.

Fuck, did I mention I really wanna fly?

mobtober day 1 : stars

(its the 14th day of october,,, my bad mob nation)

inevitable departure

someone has to leave first—

that’s the rule,

etched in the marrow of every hello.

we pretend it’s far off,

an ending for another day,

but it sits between us like a shadow

at the dinner table,

quiet, patient,

unfolding napkins we never meant to place.

either you die,

or i do,

or you find a life somewhere else

with sunshine i can’t offer

and conversations that don’t ache.

maybe one day your heart

just stops echoing mine—

it forgets the beat we built.

one of us will leave first.

and god,

what a cruel truth that is.

because even in love,

even in the best of it,

there’s an expiration we can’t read

until it’s passed.

and the worst part?

the world won’t stop.

i’ll still have to wake up,

brush my teeth,

fold the sheets you once tangled in,

and somehow

teach my heart to recognize a new rhythm.

someone else’s laugh.

someone else’s shoulder

that will never feel quite right.

rebuilding is not bravery,

it’s necessity.

and i hate that.

i hate knowing

this beautiful thing

we cradle like glass

has a fault line running through it

we can’t see until it shatters.

but still—

i love you.

knowing full well

one of us will leave first.

and maybe that’s

the most human thing of all.

I need to see more flashback scenes with these two SO. BAD. genuinely any interaction with og nice and wreck pls pls pls

Update on a new account, he actually didn't know which ones were the weed skittles and which ones weren't. He said either I got a nice bag of skittles or he would get to see me high so there were no downsides 💀

My soul almost just left my body. So my friend handed me a pack of skittles and I ate them and then he goes "guess what? I have weed skittles" and I was like "WHAT?!" and he was like "oh not the ones I gave you I keep them in a different spot" like bro, you didn't think to deliver that sentence better?

Nice lives au where Lin ling saved his life by talking him out of suicide and Lin ling became Nice's "emotional support civilian"

Ms. J: what the-? Nice you cant bring a civilian here?!

Nice: this is my emotional support civilian if you take him i will kill myself

the thing i immediately LOVE about the pale garden and the creaking is that it kinda feels to me like they're trying to emulate the creep factor that old minecraft had. the low visibility, the emptiness, the unfamiliar sounds, the feeling that something else is there just out of sight... the same elements that led to the rise of herobrine and other stories, and are now seeing a resurgence with the rise of args and digital horror series. looking into a dark forest and seeing a set of glowing eyes staring back at you is the exact same horror that herobrine was built on. seeing them showcase this biome felt like a throwback all the way to back when i first booted up the game more than a decade ago and felt an immense sense of unease as i looked to the horizon, and i absolutely cannot wait to get my hands on this update.

Chat they made Minecraft into a silly goofy cringe movie even through Minecraft is actually about life and earth and the universe and tearing meaning out of the ground and molding it with your hands into something that you can be proud of. They made the pink sheep look ugly and funny for a cheap laugh when it should’ve been a beautiful moment where you, age eleven, come across this rarity, this beautiful anomaly and you hold its face in your hands and stare into its chocolate brown eyes and you realize what the whole world is about. Chat they made it into a joke