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#i'm not proud of myself okay
hippogrifffeathers · 1 year
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Is This Seat Taken?
Ominis didn't usually mind History of Magic. Dull as it was, at least the class gave him a change to get some peaceful sleep for once. It was almost enough to make up for the stinging loneliness that came with the reminder that he was sitting alone, that nobody wanted to sit next to a Gaunt- nobody except Sebastian and once upon a time, Anne.
And maybe, in the light of a newly blossoming friendship, MC.
or, as usual, it's also on ao3!
It had been a small mercy that History of Magic classes didn’t start until after Halloween, something which all Hogwarts fifth-years would agree on.
Ominis had chosen the class under family expectations, and only tolerated it now due to the ease of the curriculum- and if he were being completely honest, the wealth of nap opportunities the lessons provided. Though, he could do without the demanding workload Binns assigned. One student could only take so many essays.
The chatter of the classroom greets Ominis as he crosses the threshold, full of usual pre-lesson complaints and friends trying to choose what table they want to claim for the rest of the school year. He pushes past it all, allowing it to become background noise.
That was another downside of History of Magic, sitting alone. It was one of the few classes he didn’t share with Sebastian, which left him sparse on people to sit with.
Solitude was hardly an unfamiliar shadow in Ominis’ footsteps, it had become something he’d grown used to quickly in his youth, trying to convince himself he preferred things this way. It was quiet, not isolating, he was just fine with the way things were.
The lie was easier to believe some times more than others.
Hearing the whispers of chatting classmates around him, knowing their giggles and scratches of quills on parchment were more from the exchanging of notes and games than focusing on Binn’s droning tone, wasn’t always easy to ignore- not against the pang of envy that he was particularly susceptible to in classes like this one. Times when reminders of his loneliness were forced to the forefront of his mind.
As classmates debate and disagree over which desk they want to claim for the rest of the school year, Ominis heads for the front of the room, settling for the desks to his immediate right. It made little difference to him where he sat, hardly as though he’d get any visual advantage, but given his unpopularity among his classmates Ominis had long since avoided more favourable tables when sitting on his own.
He goes through the motions of pulling out a quill and parchment, despite knowing they’ll go untouched for the next few hours as he drifts in and out of consciousness. Some rest was just about all he had to look forward to for the next few hours.
A familiar voice pulls him from his thoughts, someone who had stopped by his desk. His spine straightens.
“Ominis?” Soft and almost hesitant, in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from its normally assured owner, a rush of unexpected joy pulses through him as he recognises them, and his posture relaxes on reflex- MC, “Sorry, for bothering you I was just…is this seat taken?”
The unexpected line of question momentarily throws him off course, and a small laugh threatens to burst forth at their innocent inquiry.
With MC’s popularity, getting along with just about everyone in the school and the way they were excelling in all their classes, sometimes it was easy to forget this was their first year at Hogwarts. Then they asked something like that, and it was all too obvious.
“You’re not bothering me at all, MC,” He resists the urge to reach for his wand, catch a better understanding on how they were standing- or even, if there was anyone else in their company, “This seat’s free, why?”
A shuffle of shoes on stone, relief lacing their tone, “Oh good, I was hoping- I mean, if you’d not mind, if I could join you?”
A pulse of silence follows their question, Ominis finding himself momentarily lost for words, something that he found never happened, not to him.
Nobody ever wanted to sit next to Ominis Gaunt- a fact he’d become quickly familiar with in his first year. The only people who ever did sit with him were Sebastian and, once upon a time, Anne, sometimes even bickering over the seat in their early years. The occasional housemate might join him, if they were short on other choices.
But MC? MC, who Ominis knew had a wealth of friends in this class alone- many of which would be happy to offer MC a seat- and they wanted to sit with him? 
Even despite their almost too-easy companionship recently, Ominis knew he’d made an awful first impression on them that first night by the Undercroft, snapping at them as he had, threatening their mentor- the fact they’d headed straight for him now, of all the choices they had, was almost too unrealistic to consider.
Too late, he realises MC has mistaken his silence for rejection, he can hear the rustle of fabric as they start to fidget, the disappointment underpinning their rushed retraction as they desperately try to redeem whatever moment MC seems to believe they’ve ruined, “I-if not I totally understand! I didn’t mean to impose, I can sit somewhere else-”
“No!” He hopes he doesn’t sound as awkwardly flustered as he feels, frantically interrupting MC’s rambles before they can make the mistake of thinking Ominis didn’t want them there, “I mean, I’d be happy for you to join me.” He emphasises his point by shuffling along the bench slightly, aware he’s been sitting closer to the middle of the table, an old habit.
“Oh, thank you!” His chest gives another pang at the relief in MC’s voice as they slide onto the seat next to him, their arms brushing slightly at the proximity. Neither of them move away, even as MC continues their chatter, and Ominis can’t quite believe their evident happiness is because of him, feeling a smile take over his expression as they talk, “It was a relief to see you here, if I’m honest, you didn’t mention you were taking History of Magic!”
The easy way they said it risks going straight to his head, he tries not to give that much attention. “Well, nor did you. History of Magic isn’t the most popular choice amongst our peers you know, I didn’t expect you to take it honestly.”
It was true, which maybe was blindsided of him. MC had taken to spellcasting like a niffler to treasure, everyone knew that, but proficiency in practical magic didn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t be interested in the theoretical, too.
Their mentor is the Professor of Magical Theory, afterall.
“It wasn’t really my choice, the school board chose my classes for me.”
Ominis supposed that was another explanation.
“That sounds unfair.”
MC shrugged, “Looking back maybe it was, but I didn’t exactly have the knowledge to make an informed decision on my classes at the time anyway.”
“Well, while the class is incredibly dull, it is useful for getting into some N.E.W.T classes, as long as you don’t mind all the essays Binns tends to assign.” He can’t help the look of distaste at the reminder that he had another year of that to endure. Late nights alone in some corner of the common room, trying to force out several inches worth of facts on Goblin Rebellions, always made more difficult when he needed his wand to search the textbooks. It nearly doubled the amount of time he had to spend on the assignments compared to his peers, not that any of the staff seemed to care.
Sebastian would always help, where he could, but History of Magic wasn’t even his subject- it never felt fair asking his friend to help, no matter Sebastian’s fondness for learning.
And now between Sebastian’s own studies, and his questionable preoccupation with finding a cure for Anne, Ominis doubts Sebastian would even have the time to offer his help.
MC nudged his shoulder gently, pulling him from his spiralling thoughts, “Well, I suppose I’m lucky to have a friend to study with, in that case.”
Warmth spreading from where they had brushed against him, Ominis tried not to feel too excited by their words, the silent offer- or was it a request? Sometimes, it was hard to tell with MC, but their sentiment was not lost on him. The suggestion of the pair of them studying together for History of Magic, working on the same essays that had been such a burden on Ominis for years now, but instead in the warmth of company and even teamwork, was almost enough to make up for the hand cramps Binns’ essay length would inevitably cause.
“I believe that might be my line.” MC didn’t know quite how truthful his statement really was.
“Careful Ominis, I’ll hold you to that.” He could think of no other reply but a small chuckle, as though their companionship was something he might ever want to avoid.
Please do, he couldn’t help but urge, hoping they meant it. Perhaps it was pathetic of him, the surge of glee he felt at something so measly as the possibility of working together on homework, but with years of pushing through the exhausting subject alone, guilt-riddled whenever he asked Sebastian to help him find something in the textbooks, nobody could really blame him.
“What did you mean when you said this class was dull, anyway?”
“So, I take it nobody’s warned you?” That was definitely unfair, everyone deserves an advance warning about Binns’ teachings. If only to make sure they remembered to bring a pillow to class, “He’s hopeless, rambles on for the entire lesson and hardly even recognises students, let alone calls on them- I’d not worry about that though, most people just use it for napping or messing around, as long as you’re not too loud he won’t notice. Or care. Nobody’s sure which it is.”
“That sounds like such a waste.” 
“Oh, so you’ll be paying attention then?” He grins, already knowing the answer.
“I never said that.” Their tone is equally as cheeky, punctuating it with a small laugh, “What about you then- you’re telling me that the ever perfect Ominis Gaunt naps in class?” He felt a flush of warmth flash across his face at their teasing, the ever perfect Ominis Gaunt-
“You expect me to get a full night's sleep in the same dorm room as Sebastian? The boy snores.” Not a complete lie, Sebastian did snore on occasion, it just wasn’t the reason Ominis struggled to sleep sometimes- but the jibe is enough to earn him another laugh out of MC.
“Oh no, he doesn’t!”
“Oh, he does.” Ominis grins at their obvious glee in teasing their mutual friend, even if Sebastian wasn’t here to defend himself, “I’ve considered casting silencio several times now, but I wouldn’t want to get predictable.” Or face retaliation.
He likes it, this easy conversation between them, the light jibes and laughter.
Despite their rocky start together, after that horrific night in the Scriptorium, he and MC had become closer; MC warmly greeted him whenever they crossed paths in the corridors, happily struck up conversation with Sebastian and Ominis outside of classrooms, but until now they’d never had any chances to talk where it was just them, without the buffer of their mutual friend. Now, with MC choosing to sit beside him, their conversation coming just as easy as it did whenever Sebastian was there, MC’s earlier words stuck in his mind, a surge of appreciation in his chest-
A friend.
MC considered him a friend. Not just ‘Sebastian’s tagalong’, or someone they talked to because it was convenient, but a friend, their friend.
There were only two other people in his life who had ever thought of Ominis as a friend, and now it was three.
Ominis wished he’d not been so harsh to MC that night by the Undercroft, so uncharacteristically emotional in the heat of the moment. It had been an impulsive lashing out that haunted him even more after the Scriptorium, when MC had defended him against Sebastian of all people- he knew what that must have taken, given the two were practically wrapped around each other’s wands these days, and still MC had taken Ominis’ side when Sebastian had wanted him to cast Crucio. Merlin, MC had all but demanded Sebastian cast it on them, just so neither Sebastian or Ominis would have to bear the torture curse themselves.
It was an act, a friendship, he still struggled to feel deserving of. 
Even now, surrounded by classmates perfectly suitable for MC to sit with, others who MC knew and greeted warmly, it had been Ominis they made a beeline for when they entered the classroom, Ominis whose company they chose over everybody else.
He wished he was able to convey just how much that really meant to him, without sounding like a complete moonmind, or risk scaring one of the few friends he has off by being too attached.
For now, he’s content just knowing they chose his company even if he doesn’t understand why, but elects not to dwell on it any further, happy just to enjoy the mindless conversation with MC- drawn to an end only by the sudden wave of silence that sweeps through the room, followed by the familiar drawling tone of Professor Binns.
As if on conditioned reflex, Ominis’ eyes begin to feel heavy.
The only thing that snaps him out of it is a quiet groan from MC, who’d already made the rookie error of making an attempt to pay attention, “Goblin Rebellion?”
He leans towards the left, closer to MC and murmurs to them conspiratorially, “A Binns specialty, they’re practically all he talks about.”
MC groans again, “I’ve had enough of Goblin Rebellions for an entire lifetime, thanks.”
It’s fortunate they seemed to be complaining more to themselves than him, because Ominis didn’t know how to respond to that, nor did he like the uncomfortable reminder of the sorts of dangerous activities that (rumouredly) occupied MC’s spare time.
Still, MC had never made such a direct reference to it before, or at least- never to Ominis. They remained frustratingly tight-lipped about where they slipped off to after class, and what they discussed with Professor Fig- regardless of the whispers that followed them around the castle. Despite his urge to ask, to find out exactly what dangers MC was facing, Ominis knew the value of secrets better than most, had respected the privacy MC was so vehement about maintaining.
It only made their small admission all the more meaningful. The confirmation that they were involved in the recent Goblin Loyalist action, and the fact they trusted Ominis with that information, however vague, knowing he wouldn’t push them.
Like they hadn’t pushed him when he brought up his family.
The pair fell into the same silence as the rest of the class after that, the dull tone of Professor Binns washing them into the arms of lethargy, the ghost none the wiser about the slipping attentions of his students.
Predictably, the sounds of whispered giggles and scratching quills echo from behind Ominis- a sound he knows by now is not the sign of a diligent student, but one proposing some game on parchment, or passing along a note. 
The pang of loneliness he’s so used to following after the sound never arrives, instead all he feels is the familiar edgings of exhaustion pulling at his eyes, any thoughts drifting far away to the tune of Binns’ mindless droning lecture, the scratching of quills on parchment, and the occasional whisper of a student all creating a harmonic lullaby which he had no interest in denying.
Going to lift his left hand, ready to settle in for a couple of hours of dreamless sleep, he almost jolts violently as a pressure falls atop of the outstretched limb, heavy, but not crushingly so.
His brain catches up to him before Ominis reaches for his wand, filling in the gaps with soft hair tickling the exposed parts of his wrist, familiar breaths that now sound deeper and closer than before.
MC had fallen asleep.
MC had fallen asleep, right next to Ominis.
Well, basically on top of him, if the weight on his arm was anything to go by. 
His initial alarm is quickly replaced by a surge of affection, and another of deep surprise.  For as tired as he often was, Ominis had only fallen on top of someone four times in his life. Once on each of his best friends, and twice on his Aunt Noctua. It was just about the most vulnerable position to put yourself in, willing to let your guard down completely around that person and place faith that they won’t betray that in any way.
Then here was MC, who hadn’t hesitated to use him as their makeshift pillow as they succumbed to the throes of sleep.
Him. Ominis Gaunt.
He almost can’t believe it, and wonders if he’s been dreaming up a positive History of Magic class this entire time, because at least that would be easier to believe.
For a moment, a stab of disappointment hits him as he realises MC probably only fell asleep on him by accident, not realising how close they were- but, he supposes MC could easily have leaned the other way, and they hadn’t. Just as easily as MC could have chosen any other table in the classroom to sit at, yet they’d chosen Ominis’- even though he’d chosen what was arguably the worst spot in the room.
If it had been difficult before, now it was nearly impossible to fight the smile that tugs at his lips- an expression that’s rare for him, especially these days, he notes with a pang of silly delight.
Just as quickly, his moment of warmth is ruined by a sharp spike of concern, as he notes the way MC hadn’t so much as stirred when Ominis almost pulled away from them in his earlier alarm. MC had fallen asleep faster than Ominis, which was no minor feat- he was at least self-aware enough to admit that much.
Their fatigue is too reminiscent of his own, something he wouldn’t wish on anyone. 
How much sleep were they getting at night, Ominis couldn’t help but worry.
Rumours of their escapades outside of the castle had only grown in frequency over recent weeks, between that and their undeniably demanding schoolwork, where does MC find the time to rest. Merlin, do they even allow themselves to rest?
A trickle of insecurity bled through his concern…Was it even Ominis’ place to ask?
Conflict raged within him, the want to ensure MC was taking care of themself, that his friend was alright, versus the fear of overstepping and pushing MC away in the process. Their friendship was new, despite the turmoil it had already endured, and he wasn’t quite ready to test its boundaries.
The idea came to him immediately.
He could ask Sebastian. His friend had many fine qualities, but Sebastian had never been great with boundaries- not where worry for the people he cared about was concerned. It was an endearing enough trait, when it wasn’t pissing him off, or worse yet, exposing his secrets to other people.
Resolved to casually investigate the matter later, Ominis allowed his lingering concern to fade to the back of his mind. MC was resting now, and he knew better than anyone that naps in the History of Magic classroom were always peaceful and empty of dreams. They’d rest well here.
And so would he.
Exhaustion was becoming too hard to resist, and with Binns well and truly lost in droning details and stories, it wasn’t as though they’d be getting up any time soon. The slow blinks of his eyes were becoming longer and more frequent, and as his head drops sharply with a fractional loss of consciousness, Ominis finally gives in to the urging pull of sleep, bolstered by the comforting weighted presence at his arm. To his sleepy mind, it feels all too close to an invite.
Logically, he should rest his head on his right hand instead, since MC was resting on his left and he didn’t have the heart to move them. It wouldn’t be fair for him to disturb them like that, that was all.
(It had nothing to do with the fact the pressure on his arm felt so warm and comforting. Nothing to do with the easy way MC was touching him, that physical contact between them a presence he was so unused to but deeply appreciated. Privately, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d sleep all the better for it)
He’s too tired to think so pragmatically, for once he just wanted to do what felt natural, without overthinking it- to give in to the natural lean of his body, even as it sways him to the left, resting atop of MC.
Head cushioned by the fabric of their hood, as he easily fits to the junction of their shoulder, suddenly greeted by a wave of them- the faint smell of their shampoo, smooth material of new robes that hadn’t yet endured the might of a Hogwarts school year, and the slow beat of their heart, just audible over the muffle of robes and the droning of their Professor.
It lulls him to rest, not even realising as his breathing and MC’s effortlessly become synchronised, as the sweet pull of sleep finally getting the better of Ominis, along with a comfort he hadn’t felt in some time.
History of Magic wouldn’t be so bad, if he had this to look forward to in the future.
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softgothbabe · 3 months
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My bestie had her bachelorette party at a club 💅🏻💜
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Reblog this with something that you accomplished today and are proud of! You deserve to be proud of yourself. It can be anything, from taking out cat litter to getting out of bed to eating breakfast.
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unu-nunu-art · 2 months
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Unu !!
why didnt you add Template and Pale to your artfight?
Maybe my reasons don't make sense to everyone, but... it feels like they are too popular for Artfight? Adding them there seemed kinda unfair to me, so I didn't. I also guess I don't wanna be known for just my Undertale Stuff everywhere I go. That's also why my Instagram doesn't feature much UT fanworks. Besides, it gave me room to create a Melusine version of my sona, and I'm really happy with the design >u<
This doesn't mean that there is no chance for them to be added in the future though, I might add them next year, or the year after... just, not right away c:
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crispycreambacon · 9 months
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[Image Description in the Alt Text]
Ever wondered what happened to the puppets stuck in the Wondrium Arena?
So did the Professor and his meat shield/bestie westie, Ryan. Instead of waiting for an answer, they planned to get the puppets out of there. They even argued with God over it, or rather the Professor did since Ryan was too mentally out-of-it from the absolute absurdity of this situation.
And what did God give to them in return for winning the argument? A bus. To drive to the Wondrium Arena with. ‘Cause what better way to rescue a bunch of dead puppets than crashing a bus into their purgatory?
— ☆ —
I'm happy to announce the release of my first AO3 fanfic: Seatbelts, Everyone!
As you can see from the blurb above, it's a one-shot crackfic about the Professor and Ryan rescuing the puppets in the Wondrium Arena by crashing a bus into it. 'Cause why not?!
This fic has it all! We got:
Ryan learning how to drive a bus via WikiHow!
God being the absolute worst!
Silly puppet interactions!
Existential crises occuring throughout the fic!
An honestly heart-warming ending?
Y'all the line between silly jesting and sincere genuineness is so blurry in this fic. So if that all sounds like a jam of a time, you can read the fic via clicking here! Or clicking the title. Or searching up "Seatbelts, Everyone!" by crispycreambacon on AO3.
Thank you so much for checking it out! And even if you don't, I hope you enjoyed the comic. May you all have a fantabulous day!
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slightlymad · 1 year
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'cause I knew you steppin' on the last train marked me like a bloodstain
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ratislatis · 1 year
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"Your Dudes are normal, they're teens... but mine, she's--she's just a kid."
Hero Oak's Dude takes the form of an eldritch younger form of her no I will not elaborate
this sketch page is so rough ;-; I'll start caring about composition someday,,,, wistful sigh,,,,
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okkennymay · 7 months
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Two commissions for the always brilliant @waezi2
Top page features Pat, the Bard turned King- he was just here to look pretty and sing songs for The Queen and be a good dad to Dimi ;w; It's not his fault the world took her too soon by illness leaving him unprepared to run a kingdom and fight off an Orc invasion (Thats the enemy ruler's daughter Mayari, whom starts to visit him in the dungeon and ends up considering him her best friend ;C; hOW CUTE IS THAT)
The second is Veronica, an Older Gorgan woman, an irredeemable, self serving and scheming villain of Royal Punch, and god I love her- the very reason Ivan the Minotaur has to hide away in a small village and keep his head down, He cost her big time when he brought down her illegal boxing operation and by gosh does she want revenge ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
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iraprince · 7 months
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Hiii, i love your stuff and kinda from a distance really look up at you for, in my perception, being able to express yourself without giving a fuck. Thats sick dude, Im so so afraid, of absolutely everything, its nice to think like i might grow into someone less apologetic of my existence. Nice to see people just being yknow
hey, thank you, this is really really nice. the secret that is probably not a secret is that i am also deeply afraid a lot of the time lmao -- but less than i used to be, and in ways that feel less stifling and self-suffocating, if that makes sense.
like, it used to be "i'm scared that if i express myself the way i want to, everyone will find me obnoxious, so let's just sand those edges down to be safe" -- now my fears are more like "now that i'm expressing myself in a way that feels natural and real, i'm afraid that it's all stupid/vapid/not worthwhile or meaningful" (<- specifically abt my art) or "i'm happy that i talk and act the way i want to now, but what if it makes me impossible to befriend," etc etc etc. which still feels bad and puts me in a funk a lot of the time but at least it's a fear that comes After/in reaction to doing stuff, rather than a fear that STOPS me from doing stuff, you know? like, it's evolved into a kind of fear that's less in my way.
anyway. i believe you'll experience something like this, because wanting to grow is the first step of growing. the fact that u hope or wish for something different means you're already on your way. to fewer fucks!! or at least distributing the fucks u give in a way that serves u better
#stuff like accepting that i'm reserved and i'm not very accessible via messages.#or that my online tone isn't very bubbly and it's weird and uncomfortable to force it.#i stop letting fears about that shape my behavior ('i'll look mean or snotty so let's force markers of Friendliness to avoid that!!') -#- and instead act the way i want to and then trade it in for new fears that come After the action.#also a good reminder to give urself is that if ur fear is abt how other ppl perceive u (as 90% of mine is personally)#u really... can't actually control that. and being very very anxious abt it all the time is usually ur brain throwing a tantrum abt not--#--having that control. bc it is understandably very scary that u don't have that control#as much as it sucks + is terrifying the truth is the only thing u can do is ask urself 'am i behaving in a way that i'm proud of'#'am i behaving in a way that's in alignment w my values + what i think is important'#bc if the answer to that is yes and somebody hates u or is deeply offended by ur existence anyway. well. literally not ur problem#but obv being at peace w that is way way easier said than done + requires tons of practice and will take. probably. years. which is fine#i am stuck with myself. i can either contort myself forever trying to be someone everyone will like and find totally nonthreatening and-#inoffensive and in the process exhaust myself totally and never feel safe or natural myself. OR#i can say okay. so i am a kind of prickly guy with stern and drab speech patterns and close to no social energy. and i think i can still be#-sexy and fun this way. and it is up to other ppl to figure out if they can agree w me on that#ANYWAY enough rambling for now. just another one of those things i think abt a lot so i have a lot of ready-made sentences abt it in mind
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disposal-blueeee · 3 months
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nny and edgar in the dance club be like
OKAY LOL this is SUPER DUMB but
it all started when @zarla-s sent this video to a gc i'm in saying " edgar goes with nny to the club to go dancing and he sees nny do this and just stands there paralyzed " " DANCE EDGAR nny shouts at him, edgar sways awkwardly back and forth " i was like haha that's so funny when i do have the time i'm gonna animate that i think guess what i did have the time . right now
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abyssalhuntersnerd · 2 months
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It's that time of the year again where I put the fish and Amiya in the washing machine...
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#normal posts#specter and skadi will be next but by themselves#fyi I do this because these fellas sleep with me and this year they built a parking right besides my room#so the dirt and dust has gotten all over my room and my plushies are literally brown... so I have to clean them whether I like it or not#normally you don't need to clean them that often but these really need it and I won't wash them by hand cause#the dust and dirt is just stuck there so :/#I'm not a dirty gal I love keeping my room clean but these mf really got the whole house trashed#and that's not even just my room everywhere in the housr has to be deep cleaned#I have to clean my room but I'm still waiting for my dad to help me put up my ikea skadis... but at this point I'll have to myself so#I guess I'll have to watch yt vids lmao#so sorry for being out of socials I'm honestly just really tired and feel like rn things are pretty chill so my presence isn't needed here#and honestly I'm not legally allowed to talk about what's been going with me because I have some respect and would rather not shame people#online for the sake of it <3#so yeah idk does anyone miss me here hsisjddi cause I miss being here but the energy is just not it#I'm tired but I wished I had more energy for things#sighs#but yeah I will post room stuff since I will be putting some arknights decorations around once I get stuff sorted out#I can't hide that stuff anymore you know#gotta face my fears and honestly? a gift isn't something that the gifter owns it's the gifted and it's okay to be sad about it but#gotta start facing shit and being proud of stuff even if my ak energy is very low because of my personal stuff#anyways sorry for the rant but I kinda just wanted to get it off my chest I know most people won't care and they just want fish but#thanks for reading and making it all the way down here I love you
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yasmindifference · 1 year
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jaytim week 2023 masterlist
I’m very proud of the roll I’m on with jaytimweek, so I’m just gonna stick all my fics here ♡
Day 1 - identity porn - they call me king here - Jason is the king of Crime Alley. It’s not his job to check in on every new resident, but the kid in the alley gets his attention anyway.
Day 2 - urban fantasy - just like a tattoo - The morning after a spectacular (and spectacularly ill-advised) night with Jason, Tim has some regrets...starting with his tattoo, which has relocated itself to highlight an inconveniently placed hickey. [Betrayed by his own tattoo. Unbelievable.]
Day 3 - reluctant soulmates - part-time soulmate, full-time problem - Tim sighs and stands, ignoring the way pain shoots up his ribs. Looks like it’s time to save his soulmate from himself. Again. 
Day 4 - arranged marriage - (don’t) make me a match - Jason's engaged and he is not happy about it. Maybe Tim can change his mind.
Day 5 - amnesia/only one bed - wake up with amnesia - Tim wakes up in a strange bed, being spooned by a strange man. Neither of them know who or where they are. It only gets weirder from there.
Day 6 - time shenanigans - memories i never can escape - Things just keeping getting weirder for Tim and Jason. [A sequel to Day 5!]
Day 7 - free choice - hold me (like a grudge) - Jason gets shot...and Tim, distracted by the pain in their bond, gets stabbed. [A sequel to Day 3!]
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ineffabildaddy · 7 months
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can someone come and switch my brain off at 9pm each night because the "my fics are shit and i'm not saying anything worth saying with them" thoughts really do tend to fly at me with increasing fervour as the eve wears on
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shadow-the-crow · 6 months
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It's my goal in life to always say the name of random, increasingly weirder entities instead of "God"
"By Odin!"
"Oh StarClan..."
"Thank the Eye!"
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lit-in-thy-heart · 1 year
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been trying out a new writing technique recently and it's called chilling tf out and reminding myself that fic is written for fun.
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Rhys Darby - Rhys Darby hears Desert Sparrow preforming “You Don’t Mess Around With Jim”
Video link below the cut.
youtube
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