i'm playing silent hill 1 for the first time ever and i wanted to make fanart but keeping the ps1 feeling... anyway here's a harry and PS1 heather just for the funsies
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everyone has that one show/game/book/etc they really wish they weren't into. an interest that at the same time makes you irrationally angry. whether it be because it was a good concept with a horrible execution or something else i'm pretty sure we all have That interest. i wanna know what yours is, i'll start: mine is danganronpa
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@cherry-pop-elf has brought to my attention that hpma george weasley has a very charming design
also featuring @cherry-pop-elf's oc Cherry Cherry-Wood, who is a very stylish huff who also happens to be a durmstrang exchange student, which i think is a very fun combination
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ATTENTION TWINK TOM ENTHUSIASTS!!!
Are you bursting with the need to discuss Tom’s twinkabilities? Do you find yourself intrigued by the thought of Tom being captive to his own crippling coke addiction? Do you yearn to force Tom into unsavory yet comical situations? Then boy do I have a place for you.
It is my honor to introduce the RiddleTrapHouse™️, a discord server for all Tom-loving degenerates to mingle within. We are lurker friendly and already have 18 members, so feel free to join and interact at your level of comfort!
Requirements:
you must be 18+, no exceptions.
NO HATE!!! We gather in peace only!
Must have a flexible (and perhaps a little dark) sense of humor
This is a slash-only server, so be aware before entering
Come on in friends! We’d love to have you.
Link to join: https://discord.gg/36HnDX6J
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nothing is an obsession anymore. everyone is into some algorithmically curated 24-episode show for ten minutes before moving on to the next one in the queue. where is the group insanity over one mediocre piece of media that's been going for at least a decade? where's the lore? the commitment? this site used to mean something
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Whoever Loves Her Next - 01
There is a part of me that can’t believe what I’m seeing. This test isn’t like the others. There wasn’t a solid, bold line followed by the faint outline of another. This one only showed one word. A confirmation of what my fear had been for the last three weeks.
I’m pregnant.
The tears came faster than I thought they would. I disregard the test onto the edge of the sink and begin to pace. This was really happening, and there was no going back now. What we had done that morning was now permanently engraved into me, not just in my mind, but in my body. Something is growing within me. A child.
I didn’t realize how loud I had been crying until I heard a knock on the door, followed by my name.
“Bri?”
Another person is the last thing I want to see right now, but I know Mason would never stand for letting me cry in the bathroom alone. So, I weakly open the door to let him inside.
His eyes almost immediately find the pregnancy test on the sink, which then quickly dart to me, wide with shock. I hang my head in what feels like shame, my whole body seeming to cave in on itself. I can barely even breathe.
I know Mason is talking to me as he rests his hands on my arms, but I can’t hear a word he is saying. He moves me backwards until I sit on the edge of the bathtub, where he then crouches down to try and look at me. I can’t bear to look back at him.
He is trying to be comforting by talking to me slowly, but that only reminds me more of my predicament and the person who had helped put me in this position. He is basically known for being a slow talker. I’m one of the few who knows it’s because he always wanted to make sure he was saying the right thing at the right time. I don’t know how I’ll ever tell him when I know the right time will never come.
I stay in the bathroom with Mason for a little while longer, but eventually tell him that my ass hurts from the hard porcelain of the bath, so we decide to move out to the couch in the living room. My crying has calmed slightly from what it had been, but my tears have yet to subside. It feels like my body is on fire. I can hardly stand to be touched, so I pull away when Mason rests a hand on my shoulder.
Shortly after this, he says, “You have to tell him. You have to go see him. You know that, right?”
My hands cover my face, the tears leaking out faster at the thought. The idea of seeing him again makes me sick, but I don’t have another choice, so I settle for an “I know.”
next
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