hello

“House on Fire” by Sarah Anne Johnson, 2009. Dollhouse/mixed media.

Wilbur’s fingers are slender and pale, and so, so cold. He feels more like a corpse than he did when he was one, and his laughter puffs out clouds of chilling frost.

Opposite of him, Jack runs hot. Too hot. There is lava in his veins, and his skin flashes metallic in the light, molten and frozen all at once-he will never burn again, as he did in his final breathe. 

Niki is neither. Niki is warm, and thin, and her eyes-have they always been so dark? Have they always been so green? The flowers curl and tangle through her fingers and ribs alike, and she giggles at the sensation. 

Quackity’s feathers burn gold in the light, and more than once, have drawn blood when pricked. He smiles, and his eyes are plastic, his words are honey, nobody can hear them anyways. His absence is as empty as his presence, is he even real?

Punz quirks blue lips and tilts his head, his blood doesn’t follow the movement. Nothing does. His blood, his breath, his body is still, even as he runs and fights, and trades. Still, still, still, it will never move again. 

Purpled blinks moss from his lash, and bats at the frost climbing his arms. He is where he is, and that is survival for him. Where is the sound, he steps on twigs, he stumbles through water. There is no snap, there is no splash. There is no noise.

Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. He curls his lips, the world shudders. He smiles, it eases. Does he love it? Does it love him? Maps upon his skin, treasure in his veins, perhaps he is to be loved, but it’s a dangerous thing to do, worse things than him can attest to this. 

Tubbo holds the bee in his hand, it whispers it’s secrets to the honey on his lips. Pop, pop, pop, the taste of candy rocks are red, blue, white all on his tongue. Bang, bang, bang, rings the bell, it is he who rings it, he who decides the final toll, and they who will deliver if he only ask it of them.

Ranboo hums, a two-toned voice equally empty as it is melodic. Partially of void, partially of monsters, he always comes it twos. Twos, twos, twos, his loyalty may seem the same, but is it split if they are all on the same side? His friends laugh at the notion, and he shakes his head. How silly, how silly, to think him bound by such a thing.

When lore hurts too much, some wholesome Off-Stream vibes helps.

Dream SMP to outsiders:

~

everyone else in the galaxy:

everyone on tatooine:

minecraft

pandemic

lgbtqia rep uncensored by a corporation because smp isn’t owned by one

a story uncensored and given no limits by a corporation because smp isn’t owned by one

connections between the writers and the audience (both on stream and off stream)

unique fantasy during a time where the fantasy genre is fairly bland

not a remake

free to watch

creators have direct contact with the product so they have full control of their story

neurodivergent rep that isn't a caricature

neurodivergent people like. in general. both in the cast and in the audience

much of the experience is supported by the fan artists

multiple perspectives and branches to the main story mean multiple theories constantly being made

a lot of content at a time

multiple events being anticipated means multiple people interacting and talking about it

karl - adhd

tubbo - dyslexia

eret - dyslexia, dyspraxia, adhd

fundy - dyslexia

dream - adhd

connor - ocd

punz - adhd

Character’s traumas being taken seriously and given nuance to their portrayal (mostly thinking about how Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, and especially Tommy are portrayed). 

Ranboo portraying neurodivergent traits (many people have compared his happiness simply picking up and moving grass blocks to stimming) as something positive rather than weird and unnatural.