Little Loser Man

RAAAHHHHWOMENRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I've not played a lot of Sonic games in my life bc I suck at platformers but... never cared much about Eggman bc he always just gave off the Cartoony Villain with little depth vibe, y'know.

In comes Jimbotnik in the movies, slaps that bald ass head and goes, this bad boy can fit so much repressed trauma, neglect, and loneliness in him. His reasoning for wanting to take over the world is to finally fucking matter, to someone, anyone, to be seen and recognized and have the upper hand and control over everything, because if he's the guy at the wheel he can't get burnt again. He'll be untouchable. And being human won't get him there, so he fiercely rejects any and all connection and emotion that's not anger or disdain because all it's ever gotten him is pain. Like, that shit runs so deep that his walls are building walls.

And then there's one singular guy with endless empathy and a coffee machine, patiently chipping away at it all with a chisel, and he keeps going despite everything Robotnik puts him through in the process...

Guys, I'm so unwell.

I don’t like being referred to as a boy

I love you realism in hermitcraft fanfics. I love you seasons in the hermitcraft I love you more animals in hermitcraft I love you real food and cooking and needing to drink water to live and non-minecraft mechanics I love you still being shaken up after respawning I love you proper days and nights and hot and cold and dreams and little moments. I love hermits changing clothes and making bowls and forks and trading with villagers and singing and dancing and being real. I love worldbuilding based on hermitcraft.

First time?

wl gem <3

Very interesting advancement note that I’m obviously not the first to comment on but

The wording is ‘rescue’ a Ghast from the Nether, and bring it ‘safely home’. Which has always been the idea of, are Ghasts from the Nether? Was the Nether always like this; and are they so miserable because they were forced to adapt to a ruined fiery hellscape? Well, now we know that presumably when young especially, they’re liable to dry out. That if they’re rescued from being dried, they thrive in a more earthly environment. That they grow up happy when doing so. I do think that Ghasts may be from the Nether, but not from the current Nether. A much colder one, maybe more like the Overworld, maybe not. Probably a cavernous fungal paradise if I had to guess. But now they live in a world that’s been ruined by something, and turned into the human embodiment of hell, forced to spit fire just to no longer be filled with it when they’d much rather eat snow to cool down. Is it any wonder they cry?