OLIVER X RANDY X GINGI THINGY!!

Randy woke up, sweaty and sandwiched between two warm bodies. He felt a pair of arms wrapped firmly around his scrawny waist and another strewn somewhere near his upper torso. His tail was twined with the tail of whoever was behind him, carefully fitted bells hanging from the end of their beige cord. The green skin.. wait. Green skin? Fuck, he remembered where he was now. He was cuddling with Oliver and Gingi, in Oliver’s apartment, on Oliver’s bed. His screen grew hotter and, against his own control, his tail thumped onto the mattress. This set off the bells wrapped around Oliver’s tail, obviously, waking both the fezzed man and the cryptid. Compared to Oliver’s slow stretching as he awakened, Gingi practically dragged Randy with them as it sat up as quickly as.. cryptidly possible in the bed.

“WHERE AM I!? DID I OVERDOSE ON COUGH SYRUP AGAIN?? RANDAL AND OLIVE-MAN, WHY ARE YOU HERE??” Gingi screamed all of this in rapid succession, frantically looking around the room and between Randy and Oliver. It had backed away from Randy’s grasp at some point and he didn’t feel like acknowledging how upset that made him. He did not feel like unpacking that right now.

“Rotary-christ, Gingi, shut up. I invited you and Randy to hang out yesterday and we ended the night by cuddling with each other because you refused to do anything else.” Oliver chuckled through his sentence, resting a hand on Randy’s knee to calm the startled nokia.

“Oh. In that case, Mama’s goin’ back to sleep.” With that, Gingi curled back into the bed and wrapped their tail around itself.

“We should probs go back t’ sleep too. It’s, like, 2:30 in the morning. Unless ya ain’t tired?” Oliver tilted his head, questioning Randy. The nokia replied with a small shake of his head.

“N- No, I’m still tired just.. I’ve got to use the bathroom, y-y’know?” He knew damn well the fezzed man wasn’t buying it, accentuated by the hand on his knee moving up to his thigh and giving it a reassuring pat.

“If it’s ‘bout us cuddlin’ ya don’t need t’ be nervous. It’s just me n’ Ging. Wait.. here I’ll even let ya choose the position ya end up in this time.” Oliver held his arms out, seemingly waiting for something. Randy felt his screen grow brighter and hotter yet again, but he still found himself latching onto Oliver’s waist and holding him close.

“Awww, didn’t know ya were such a lil’ love bug, Rands.” Oliver saying this while he pat the nokia’s head didn’t help his entire “overheating” situation. Randy simply wagged his tail in response as Oliver carefully caressed his head, rubbing the back of it and purposely avoiding the delicate buttons resting on the front. The moment the fezzed man started humming was when Randy knew he was done for. The quiet tune quickly lulling him back to sleep, the purring from Gingi to the side of him definitely helped. Oh, and how warm he felt for once. All he knew was he would trade all of his organs if it meant he was able to stay here just a bit longer. Surrounded by his “friends” and literally wrapped in the arms of one of them.

(@anonymouslyanidiot olandgingi,.,.)

Some spins on the "mostly male team with a token woman" trope:

The woman is trans and stayed in her old circle of bros even after transition

The woman is the only one in her circle of "girls" who didn't turn out to be a trans man

keep seeing undergrads on social media saying “oh if a prof has a strict no-AI academic integrity policy that’s a red flag for me because that means they don’t know how to design assignments” like sorry girl but that just sounds like you’ve got a case of sour grapes about not being allowed to cheat with the plagiarism machine that doesn’t know how to evaluate sources and kills the environment! I have a strict no-AI policy because if you use AI to write your essays for a writing course it’s literally plagiarism because you didn’t write it and you’re not learning any of the things the course teaches if you just plug a prompt into the plagiarism generator that kills the environment, hope this helps!

•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•

It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.

Spread the Word :)

Shoutout to my dad for being the funniest person I know

Mary Oliver, from Long Life: Essays And Other Writings originally published in 2004

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

Funniest thing I’ve seen on tiktok are those sigma male boys getting mad that American psycho was written by a gay man and going “well I like fight club better” buddy I’ve got some world ending devastating news for you

KAREN (DIALTOWN) DRABBLE!!

Karen loved when she was able to paint near Norm’s shack. There were plenty of different subjects to choose from; the multitude of greenery, the lakes scattered throughout the forest, even a few animals on occasion. Even a few wild horses popped up from time to time. She kept her distance from them, of course, but she couldn’t help the excitement that popped into her mind when she saw them. Today, she was in the spot where she was fairly certain the horses showed up from. She saw a few tracks left behind, faint but obviously the animal she was looking for. Well, more like the animal she was hoping showed up.

She set up her easel, took out a few paints and grabbed a set of paint brushes out of her bag. Birds chirped in the distance, setting her focus into different directions but she knew the moment she started painting it would fade into the background. Just some noise that blended in with the others, much like her art’s colors did in the end. A gentle sigh left her, she picked up a paintbrush and carefully dipped it’s end into a delightful shade of green. She loved and hated how when she worked with green the thought of Gingi soon followed. She had grown quite fond of the cryptid at some point. She set off painting. Brush, back into paint, brush some more, rinse off in water, choose a different color, repeat.

She was finally done by the time the sun was setting, mixing the sky into a beautiful gradient of yellows, oranges, reds and pinks. The snapping of a twig behind her caused her to turn around, a quiet gasp falling out of her before she could think to stay quiet. There, in the path where she had been painting, stood a horse. It’s silvery, gray coat looked as though someone had splattered ink onto it but that paired well with the whirring engine it has for a head. It looked at her for a moment before galloping off into the distance, the humming from it’s head lingering for a moment before fading away as it grew more distant. Karen’s mind raced in joy, her hands were moving before she could tell them too. Fists waved around in wild, frantic movements as she tried to shake off the energy from her excitement. Rotary-christ, she loved it out here.

(oh and this was requested by @vincentbeloved!!! hope i did your idea justice little bro :3)

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

-Recording begins-

Spider-Man: Hi folks! I’d like to give a PSA to my usual villains, and anyone else with ideas for the next two months.

Spider-Man: *holds up a brick sized lump of metal* See this? It’s titanium!

Spider-Man: *starts flattening it out and shaping it*

Spider-Man: See, we all know that I’m crazy strong, but I never wanna really hurt anybody right? Right. While that hasn’t changed, something very important does right around this time of year.

Spider-Man: *pulls off a glove and pulls a chunk into a long stem with his nails carving lines for added texture*

Spider-Man: See, this is what we like to call exam season. Anybody who knows anything about college can tell you that it drives people up the wall, and I already climb mine when I’m antsy.

Spider-Man: *starts winding the thin sheet around the stem, delicately crimping petals in place*

Spider-Man: I do wanna be clear that this isn’t a threat, okay? I’m still not interested in crossing the line, which brings me to my point.

Spider-Man: *throws the titanium rose at the brick wall behind him, stem first, and embeds it all the way through*

Spider-Man: /That/ was restrained because I could focus enough to have full control. If I’m extremely tired or otherwise distracted, there’s just as much risk of me slipping up as someone operating heavy machinery. I’m probably not going to remember what sleep is for two whole months, so remember!

Spider-Man: *pulls out a brick and snaps it like a cookie*

Peter fucking Parker: Don’t.

having talented friends is so wild!!!!!! like. YOU!!!!!!!!!! YOU made THAT. YOU DID THAT?!?!?!?! YOU created!!!! THAT!!!!!!!!!!! WOAH!!!!!! praise!!!!!!!! praise for one thousand years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my dad saw ao3 open on my computer and asked if that was like my writing club and just so you know that's what fanfic writers are now, we're all in the same writing club where we all write about the same media and show each other our little stories and that's kind of cool actually

I saw a lot of people happy with the 4 pearls, I decided to give a tip to non-readers