*yawn* good morning, it's like... 8 pm, but yeah
dusting off this blog, after A LOT has happened nothing big, but
yeah. the talk between Toga and Ochaco happened and honestly I was a bit tired sorting out my own life and just learning new things
and I kinda forgot how to use Tumblr, any social media in fact
anyway here have my sweet oc I finally drew after thinking about them for so long
focused on my mental health most of all and I'm finally starting to chill out. yay
summer is almost over and late exams are coming... but anyway
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"MSM content when-" *PLACES DIS IN FRONT OF YOU* ( this was inspired by Egyptian mythology )
It's about a ba & a Ka being reunited again and got turned into this ^ now they sing songs of freedom!
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I really like Dan Feng... Dan Heng not that much (NOT BIASED AT ALL !!!)
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Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.
If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.
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Today I remembered that I made an flight rising account in 2021 (that I played for only one day and then I gave up cause it seemed too hard) and I logged in today to check it out again. Long story short I found out I had a lot of cash from somewhere apparently so I bought a couple of dragons for fun.
As far as I'm concerned all the love is stored in the Aberration
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After Angband, Maedhros had a complicated relationship with his hair for a long while. The thing he once used to cherish and carry with pride, inherited from the mother he had left behind, was now tainted with memories of unwanted attention and derogatory touch.
After his rescue, it had to be cut short for the sake of his recovery, and he could never quite figure out whether he was more hurt or relieved by the act. It was Fingon, during those times filled with anxiety and doubt and shame, who helped him learn to accept his own appearance again– from the stump of his right arm and the scars littered across his freckled body to the locks of copper hair, ever so slowly regrowing to their former glory.
And little by little, the lingering memories of malevolent hands harshly yanking at his scalp were replaced by the feeling of tender hands carefully braiding familiar golden ribbons into his hair, once again beloved.
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