#if they do I'll update this with a new link

[marigoos]

Updated scam alert

So, as some of you guys know, I've received an ask from a known scammer a few weeks ago. Since I found their main post reblogged by 300 or so people, thinking they were helping a palestinian diabetic lady, I made a pinned post (this one) and warned everyone.

At some point this week, that account has been banned (or deleted), to my great dismay (the best vaccine against this kind of thing is letting victims know, since these scammers will just make new accounts); however, I found out that one of the names used in one of the many of his PayPal accounts has also been used in (as of today, 11/23) gladysconnoisseurpost thanks to this other post!

I already added that new piece of info in my old pinned (the one linked above in pink), and just today I received this ask on anon - worded very similarly to this other one that I got (off anon!) immediately after I called him out the first time.

So, in short: it's clear it's the same person again, there are sources to prove my point in the first link, there's one more here (el-shab-hussein saying it's a scam), thus I'm resuming my little hobby here.

IF YOU'VE BEEN MENTIONED IN THE REPLIES HERE:

-read the post in the first link. I'm basically doing the same thing, just with another post since it's about a different account and it could cause confusion

-I'd like you all to either delete your reblog of this scammer's post or edit it to include a warning to your followers

-if you're having a hard time tracking your reblog down (some date back to August), let me know and I'll help

-some of you reblogged it more than once, try to get them all (I tried to take note of those who did, if you have any doubts let me know)

-I did recognize some of your names from the last time - I'm sure you're all more knowledgeable now, it's just that it's the same scammer that contacted you multiple times, and I found an older instance. It's unlikely you falled for it once more after I warned you, so no worries. Still! Keeping up your reblog with no warning helps making it look more legitimate, so if you would kindly do me a favour and delete/edit this one too 🙏

-usual disclaimer that I transcribed all urls manually and I may have gotten something wrong. Hmu if you think I made a mistake, so I can contact the right person (or prove that it was in fact you)

-and again, no worries. You're all doing a good thing, you're not at fault for this piece of shit taking advantage of your good heart. Just be more wary next time :*

-I'm still gonna check for name changes, both on Tumblr and Paypal. Most recent on top

Oh, and let's not forget my List of Actually Verified Palestinian Fundraisers Who Contacted Me. Gotta uplift their voices too

[loverdude]

HELLO! I've finally remade/updated my commission sheets! For the most part everything should be the same, except for my Ko-Fi username which is now lampscapes! I just wanted an updated version with more recent art examples, and different colors :] I've also been really fussing around with usernames and stuff lately and trying to pick a new one (to replace loverdude), so I just titled these with "Eddy's Commissions" instead!

I'm going to be finally graduating from college soon here, and I'm hoping to maybe make at least some money on commissions once I'm done :3 On top of rent/food/gas/etc I will also need to start paying off loans...

STATUS: OPEN

Half-body, full color: $35 USD, there are 5 slots open.

Full-body, full color: $55 USD, there are 5 slots open.

Full color icons: $15 USD, there are 5 slots open.

Full-body, full color, cute/chibi: $25 USD, there are 5 slots open.

I’m doing the commissions through Ko-fi!: https://ko-fi.com/lampscapes

There is more information on there! If you are interested, please email me at cupidartkofi@gmail.com to tell me about your request first! You can also email me there if you have any questions!

I also recently added all my past commissions to my gallery on my Ko-Fi if you want to see some more examples! Plus there's also my art-only Tumblr to look at as well! (If you've commissioned me in the past and want me to remove your commission from my gallery, please let me know and I'll remove it ASAP!)

Please share if you want and can, and want to help support a neurodivergent trans artist :] Here is a link to the info on Twitter if you want to help me spread info there too!

The detailed info provided in these photos is under the cut in typed format:

NOTE: 1-2 characters only, no extra charge for 2nd character

WILL DRAW: original characters, humans, furries, couples, MLP:FIM-style ponies*, fanart

WON’T DRAW: NS.FW, hateful content, mecha/armor, super-detailed designs or backgrounds, gor.e (blood is ok!)

*not edits, still my own art style

Some of what I will or won’t do is subjective and it will just depend! I have the right to decline any commission request.

BACKGROUNDS: I can make the background transparent, a solid color, or something with simple and colorful patterns and shapes like hearts, flowers, clouds, stars, moons, etc.

PAYMENT: I’m doing my commissions via Ko-fi! My username is lampscapes. Please email me at cupidartkofi@gmail.com before commissioning via Ko-fi, so you can run your idea by me first and we can discuss it!

OPTION 1: $35 USD, half-body, full color, examples

OPTION 2: $55 USD, full-body, full color, examples

OPTION 3: $15 USD, full color icons, examples

OPTION 4: $25 USD, full-body, full color, cute/chibi

One other note: my art varies a lot in style, so if there's a certain style you're hoping for (different brushes I've used, more smooth or rough lineart, etc) please let me know! An example of one of my previous drawings would be much appreciated if so :]

And that’s all! Thank you so much!

[garthyobsessed]

I'm irrationally obsessed with Garthy O'Brien, especially their voice, so I made a compilation of literally every word they speak in FHSY and PiroL. Enjoy!

@d20fuckability

[birdon14]

Forgot to update. This is what happend on November 3rd and 4th, a few days after the callout. (This will be a long one) He reacted and panicked after finding out, the artist he looked up to is a good friend of mine. That friend drew me, my bestie and them together. He then decided to '''''apologize''''', but notice how he can't take any responsibility and points fingers at his sockpuppet account?

Blackwargreymon2003 is the same name of his oldest deviantart account. And the way they both write is identical. Yes, he really thinks I'm that stupid.

oh never said homophobic things huh? explain the reddit comment from my last post then dumbass

Most of these messages were written overnight, but that's not all. M a n, he wrote me even on Youtube too. Trying to play a different person. But it was so obvious that it's him , because his interests were always written on his usernames. For example, Spore and Digimon. The username 'epic7448' was his second account on deviantart. He keeps talking to himself.

After his pathetic apologies and kept ignoring him for hours, all I had to write was one sentence to make him delete his main account. I basically told him that I will tell everything he did to me, to my friend he looks up to. I have no proper screenshot of it, because he deleted his main not even a minute after I send my message.

So yeah, he completely lost it after that. Created a new account, to keep harassing me. His apologies mean jack shit lol And then he drew me with a CAWK😩 in my mouth on his private twitter and brags about it on his side account

Funniest thing is: he send me blob links. I'm not even able to see them or convert them in any ways LMAO. This idiot can't even send proper links xD

and finally, the last messages he send me came a few days later on my twitter callout: And hey buddy, maybe...just maybe.... a 14 year old is allowed to dislike nsfw stuff because SHE IS 14, A CHILD

So anyway, most of his accounts on Bluesky are deleted. Simply reported them and waited. All I had to do is writing one sentence to bring him into a downward spiral. 'Oh the consequences of my actions!'

So yeah, stay away from Gomogora or whatever name he's trying to rebrand himself with. Appearantly his youtube account changed to the name 'Riki'. Sorry for posting another weird post. This will be the last time I will adress him. I just thought it's funny how he reacts and you all can be asure, that his words mean absolutely nothing and simply block him.

((And sorry for anyone waiting for more art. I have been sick lately and have to study ;-; Let's hope I'll be able to post more on December!))

Alright, I'll warn my followers and fellow Kirby anime fans here too.

I'll delete this post later.

Beware of the Newgrounds user Gomogora (DeviantArt: Gomogora534)

This guy harassed me for 3 years.

You can read more detail on my twitter, but let me show you the unhinged drawings he made about me and the messages he send me:

warning: bloody/violent images, slurs, homophobia

This year, he drew my persona killed and did a bizarre hate art directed at my 'headcanons'. Dude is pissed simply because he thinks I hate Metaknight?

And here just recently gave me glorious message on Bluesky, containing all kinds of slurs and insults. This was on October 24th. He actively looked after me on his new accounts just to insult me and block me right after like a coward. The darkveemon account got deleted, but his main account is still there. (He has an interest in Digimon so that checks out as well.)

Another unhinged message under my reddit post back from August 2023:

He pretty much acts like a snake around people he's friendly with. Once you are one of the people he decides to hate on, he spews all kinds of slurs and insults at you. If he acts LGBT-friendly, remember that these are the texts he messaged me, an open lesbian. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, every time he drew Sirica, he always has this need to dunk on my headcanons lol. Appearantly my Sirica headcanons are all just about being crazy and hating Metaknight lmao

so yeah, those are the most important informations I need to share. Do not harass him back, just be cautious if you ever run into him and block him. I reported him on NG, he got a warning and one of the first images got deleted by NG self (the one with sprites got deleted by Gomogora himself, a few days earlier). Thankfully, he doesn't have a tumblr as far as I know.

It's best to stay away from him. That's all.

There are more informations I could share, but I don't think I need to repeat everything from my twitter thread:

https://x.com/ManniBirdon/status/1850981553196974496

[cubbihue]

So.... why'd Peri get assigned Dev as his first godchild?

Jorgen’s usually not the one in charge of assigning godchildren. There’s an entire department that weighs and classifies potentail Godkids to the right Fairy. Although it’s on strike at the moment.

So Jorgen has to do it by hand, until the union negotiations are resolved. Turns out trying to use paperclips is very hard. Itty bitty paperclips. Big muscular biceps. Not a good combo.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Peri's Assignment: [Previous] > [Next]

[ghostly-cabbage]

I have officially edited and updated my DP fic recommendation document

I've so far only used it for friends but now I'm wondering if any of you guys would be interested...

[vargaslovinghours]

Fandom: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (But really Vargas lol) Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

What, exactly, did Scriabin take from Edgar when they separated?

My first multichapter fic for Vargas! :D Yay!

(Pls read Ch. 1 first - Ch. 2 is also recommended, but as long as you're caught up on the first, you're good to go!)

-----

Side B

What the fuck.

"It's, it's possible that if, maybe whatever happened earlier, whatever caused all that blood and for us to be knocked unconscious-"

What the fuck.

"-and if I suffered a head injury, then maybe-"

No. That's enough.

Scriabin pushed away from the closet door he'd defensively pressed himself up against and put his hands on Edgar's shoulders, which quieted him. He looked at him expectantly, with eyes that Scriabin somehow only just now realized were casually guarded, curious, uncertain in a way that denoted inexperience. That was so messed up, that was completely wrong. Edgar should've been on guard, absolutely, but only because he knew exactly what Scriabin was capable of. He really didn't want to look at him right now if this was what he was going to be seeing instead.

He spun him quickly and pushed him out the door before he could protest. He got one last look at those wide, confused eyes before he slammed the door behind him, bracing it shut with both hands for good measure.

What. The fuck. His head came forward, making a dull thud as his forehead connected with the door. He doesn't remember me? His fingers curled on the door. What does he mean he doesn't remember me?! How could he not know me?! One hand pushed through his hair; his scalp tingled and that was so weird, he felt it and it was so weird- We literally just- He literally just-! As if pulling him screaming into life wasn't bad enough, now he had decided to play some sick prank!

This can't be true. It's just like him to try and make jokes at the worst possible time, he has no tact.

There was a timid knock on the other side of the door. Scriabin jumped as it resonated through his skull, his elbow, pressed to the door with his hand buried in his hair, set his jaw. Then silence.

If he was really trying to get back in, clear things up, say he was only kidding, he'd actually try.

Nothing.

Scriabin's blood was ice as he went over it again. The way he'd said his name. The vacant look in his eyes as he said it, like his mouth knew its shape but none of the meaning. No fear, no realization, nothing that really felt like Edgar, just sound, just noise.

Maybe he really had-

Oh god. His knees gave out, and his arms had no practice at holding him upright, not yet. His hand slid down the door, his other hand guarding his head as his hair fluffed against the grain.

How could he do this

This is all his fault

Stupid, idiotic

He can't do this to me

I can't believe him

I can't believe this

How dare he leave me alone like this

Thoughts spiralling, and all he could do was hold himself down, press his fingers into the back of his neck, force his chest to his knees and maybe he wouldn't immolate under it all. He was shaking, from tension or fear he couldn't tell, his mind too hazardous and loud to cut through it all. He was shaking, dizzy, and if he moved, letting go would surely kill him.

He can't do this to me.

He breathed. And breathed. And swallowed. Eyes closed, heart pounding, sure. Confusion and dismay, whatever. Pain. Fine. So be it.

This isn't like me. A hand untethered from his vice grip in his hair, and he stayed attached to the floor. It connected with the carpet below him and became a new lifeline. He pushed up and away into a limp sit, arms already burning slightly from holding himself up after all that. He shook his head mildly. This isn't who I'm going to be in life. His body, this fear response be damned, he was in control now.

Regroup. Let's- a mental pause, barely a quarter of a second long as he turned the word in his head. Let's pretend it's all true- what does that mean?

He flopped over, leaned upright with his back against the door, heels of his fists pushed down into the carpet to scootch closer. Moving was so awkward still, very unfitting.

He was acting normal. Well, Edgar's baseline for "normal" had changed considerably, so maybe put an asterisk on that. Not that he was ever normal to begin with, but normal-for-Edgar, -ish. That means he has to have some memory.

Scriabin held out a hand, arm slung over his knee, one finger held out. He had recognized his glasses. One. The apartment. Two. Which key to use. Three. He had said Todd's name. Four.

His stuff can be discounted, he's had all that for a while. Back down to one. The kid is a new fixture. Which means he remembers the last couple months at least. He shook his head and brought his hand up to comb through his hair. Well...it's fuzzy for me, so it probably is for him, too. Scriabin remembered everything in as much clarity as the last couple months allowed, there was no way Edgar would know more even if he had all his memories.

Speaking of which, Scriabin could remember everything. He flipped through; the last two months and bringing Todd in, Edgar's parting words to Johnny, his and Devi's conversation - he grit his teeth - and further back, everything along the way, all the way back. False dreams, shared childhoods, everything that was once Edgar's alone, he still remembered it. Nothing was out of place which made it all the more strange!

This is so fucking weird, if I remember everything, then why would he-

He stopped short. His purported purpose had been to replace Edgar. Take him over completely. If he bought into the conceit for a moment, just to play in the space... He was alive now. That was not as intended; it shouldn't even have been possible.

Did he...give me his memories? Like, all the way? Not just to borrow, to shape him, give him legitimacy - he was alive now. His own person. Separate, embodied, and whole. Was this the price of life?

That's stupid. But possible, he couldn't discount. If this - he brought his hands up and looked down at them, watched himself touch his own chest and felt it beneath his coat, shirt, the nerves firing as his slid his fingers up himself - if this was possible, then...

He continued for a moment, curious and reverant, all of him new and privately exciting, to exist and to touch, to feel, smell, see, all of it clear and fresh and penetrated deeply into his mind, as if a layer of film had been lifted from his senses. The moment passed as the memories, unbidden but important, cluttered in around him again.

There were still a lot of questions, and most of them couldn't be answered without Edgar, ugh. If getting anything out of him before had been like pulling teeth, he was very sobered to think about how it might be now. Depending on how much Edgar remembered, maybe he could start piecing things together.

Did he do it on purpose? Did he know this would happen? There's no way he would have been willing to if he had- But he couldn't ask him things like that. Even if he did remember, admitting something like that...

He was just spinning his wheels at this point. Better to gather what he could from the man himself. He looked up, preparing to stand.

Ah-

The room was still in something of a state.

Edgar would be annoying, or at least distracted by trying to pick up the clothes and uncarefully unpacked items strewn about the floor from Scriabin's very successful excavation of his old glasses. The clutter would have to go if he wanted his full attention.

He grumbled as he pushed off the door to pick up the first few things. First day of life and I'm already his maid. Figures. He's always needed me to clean up after him.

Silence.

Somehow it only just hit him. Thinking alone in the late hours, planning things behind Edgar's back, it was nothing new. But a barb unsunk into his mental flesh was left out in the wide emptiness, poised to stab whoever happened upon it next, and he was the only one here.

He felt very small all of a sudden, and he didn't like it at all.

His eyes blankly scanned the room, looking for nothing, until they settled on the toy at Edgar's bedside. His toy.

He dropped the items he'd bundled into his arms and made his way over. He picked up the small simulacrum, turned it over in his hands once, and stared at it.

He wouldn't know this. Not really. He brushed a thumb up and over the little mouth, the contours of its small face. Retroactively, I've never been this at all.

I'm no one to him.

Does this mean we can start over? The thought struck him like lightning, freezing his heart in his chest. He was fixed solid, staring down at the small figure in his hands.

Before he could even think, he'd already thrown it through the open closet door, landing noisily in the box he'd dug through with a clatter. He grabbed up the fallen clothes and items and stuffed them back in the box, burying the toy in mundane detritus, then closed the cardboard flaps and slammed the door of the closet for good measure.

His breath was laboured and he glared, like wishing it gone would make the closet itself disappear.

Answers. He needed answers, more than anything.

He ripped the door open, and there was Edgar who looked up, staring dumbly back at him and carrying the clothes he'd shed earlier over his arm. Something in his mind clicked over, and he didn't think about it.

"Alright," he caught his breath for half a second, "what do you remember?"

Edgar just kept on staring, mouth open, eyes unconfident behind weak glasses. Scriabin huffed irritably, I don't have time for this, and moved towards him, arm outstretched.

"Come on." Edgar gave a small startled sound behind him as he grabbed his collar and dragged him through the doorway. He threw him across the room, not bothering to watch his arc as he closed the door behind him. The bed was that way, he'd be fine.

When he turned back, Edgar had managed to catch himself, though already halfway on the bed. Scriabin stood with his back to the door, feet planted and he crossed his arms. No more speculating around impossibilities, tangible and present as they might be, it was time for a proper interrogation. It was at least preferable to-

Edgar made a face at him and scooted back, offering a seat next to him on the bed. Equal footing briefly flashed through his mind and while he wouldn't consider it ideal, nothing today was really going his way. He sighed, then made his way over and sat across from Edgar, who was eyeing him with a certain degree of caution. At least the feeling was mutual.

"Spill." He re-crossed his arms and leaned towards Edgar. "What do you know?"

Edgar hesitated, apparently thinking, his hands laced and fingers agitatedly if quietly rubbing the backs of his hands.

"I want to verify some things first."

Scriabin snorted dismissively. Where had Edgar's overly-trusting nature gone? A serial killer, well he's an honoured guest, but Scriabin? He didn't even distrust him for the right reasons.

He gestured with an open hand, Go ahead, then tucked his arm back in.

"Todd's last name?"

Pfsh. At least it was proof enough that anything Edgar knew, Scriabin did as well. As expected.

"Casil. His stupid bear's called Shmee in case you forgot that too." Edgar shook his head. No he hadn't? If only he could just check!

"Do you know our phone number?" Obviously he did, so he rattled it off quickly, Edgar nodding in turn. He flipped his hair in time with the last digit, careful to keep his eyes covered. It was a bit of a timid attempt, being the first in this body, which was a minor blessing he supposed.

Edgar mulled over what he'd given him for a moment, then a moment longer, then a moment even longer. His eyes searched absently, gazing down into his own hand, his other on his chin, lightly thumbing his goatee. He was focused on names and numbers, but those were child's play compared to everything, everything Scriabin still wanted to know. It was frustrating on a visceral level, watching him struggle with such simple innocuous nothings while the most important person in his life was sitting right in front of him.

He was supposed to be the most important.

It was frustrating.

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" He didn't hide the sneer as it shaped his voice - odd the way his body just did that now, did things without him actively thinking them into being. Even things like the little waver that made its way in that he pushed back down and under. He was frustrated, angry, tired - any emotionality could be attributed to those, nothing else.

Edgar didn't answer, just kept his gaze locked to his face. That was almost worse. Watching him fumble through things, it wasn't fun, but at least he wasn't trying to pry. He could see him try to look past his bangs, and the fact that he didn't know better...

Scriabin looked away for a moment, then thought better of it. Best defense is a good offense.

He reached for Edgar's face, for those damn scars, ever-present reminders. Edgar shied away, not wanting to be touched suddenly by someone he didn't know. As if Scriabin had ever cared about that.

Well, things were different now. Maybe he didn't really want to touch him anyway. Not yet.

"Do you remember these...?" Instead he framed his face with his hands less than an inch from his skin, and even there he could feel the heat coming off him. Edgar reached for his face, looking away from Scriabin as he touched the angry red marks. He winced minutely, then glanced back at Scriabin, searching him, his expression guarded again. Scriabin could hear his own pulse in his ears.

"...Johnny?"

"Fuck." Fuck! "Of course you'd remember him but not me." God damn it! It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, just because Johnny came first by a hair's breadth, just because he wasn't in Edgar's head, with Edgar's fucked up little obsession with the murderous stick figure- It limited what he could get away with too, if he remembered that far back. Absolutely nothing was going in his favour.

"I'm sorry..." He sounded genuinely remorseful, and it stuck in his throat. Disgusting. "So you know Johnny, too."

"Unfortunately." Scriabin tucked his chin to his chest, arms crossed again in close proximity. This sucks. Edgar just kept rambling, unaware as ever. His excuses held this time at least, one point in his favour, no points for bringing his annoying habits with him despite everything.

"I don't think I've seen him for a couple months now? Everything's awfully..." He gave a vague gesture and Scriabin uncurled slightly. He was giving him room to contribute. He shook his head.

"You haven't."

"Have you?"

He returned to his tight coil of sulking. Not like he was keen to meet up and chat, but he couldn't explain why he hadn't had the opportunity to either.

"I remember he called, too."

"Ugh," barely above breath. Enough about Johnny! Again, Edgar continued obliviously.

"Although I don't really recall what we talked about, not for a while..."

Of course not. I took over for half of those.

He perked a bit, and Edgar focused more on him, patiently setting his hands in his lap.

"You know."

He could play this to his advantage. Give Johnny some well-deserved karmic justice for fucking him over so many times. It was almost better that Edgar didn't know - Scriabin had been trying to get him away from Johnny all this time, and if he really had forgotten everything, not just the moments when Scriabin took over but every moment they had shared, then that meant it coincided almost perfectly with his first meeting with Johnny. Blank spot after blank spot after blank spot, all lined up immediately after getting his face slashed.

He could work with that.

"It's probably trauma." Edgar startled and his hand shot to his temple, lightly touching his hair.

"Like, head trauma?" Scriabing almost laughed. Yeah, probably that too. But that wouldn't help his case.

"No." He leaned in, taking a more intimate, secretive tone. "Think about it. When did things start getting fuzzy?" If he was right on this - which of course he was, but not being able to verify, not being able to see that he was right, it was disconcerting - but if he was, Edgar's memories of Scriabin should start with that first fateful encounter, give or take. A bit of reframing here, a touch of implication there... It probably wasn't even an outright lie; if Edgar's memory were perfect after experiencing everything Johnny had put them through, that would be some kind of twisted miracle.

His only real concern was their "childhood" - how much had Scriabin pulled with him? Would that throw off his story? But that was so far back, there was no way Scriabin or Johnny could be implicated in that. As long as Edgar didn't bring it up before he thought his way around it...

Edgar stayed quiet for a long while. His eyes raced behind closed eyelids, searching, scanning, retracing - Scriabin could almost see the moments where he hesitated, stopped and went back, then starting recollecting again. He wished he could see it for real, watch him unfold himself, touch those memories again, hold up his own in contrast. Even just hear Edgar's thoughts as they went by, feel the emotions he felt. But he couldn't, so he just stared as unblinkingly as this new body would allow, just watched as Edgar went over everything on his own.

He finally opened his eyes, staring back into Scriabin's though he was sure they were still hidden. He felt naked and awkward and Edgar still hadn't said anything. If he could just see like he was supposed to, or if Edgar would just tell him, he wouldn't have to ask. I have to do everything around here.

"It was after you met him, wasn't it?"

"You think it's...mental trauma?" An unspoken 'yes.' Relief flooded him, and he pushed ahead.

"Edgar. He stabbed you." Edgar gripped his shoulder, his eyes closing again and he looked to be in pain. That was a very effective reminder at least. "Do you even know why?" He shook his head and spoke throught half-grit teeth.

"I must have made him mad, but I don't remember-" Of course not, I did that.

"Your mind is trying to protect you." Not. But one of us has to with your inexhaustable deathwish. Scriabin reached out to touch him properly, but Edgar pulled away. He didn't follow, still not yet. Play up the pity. "He messed you up so bad," with a curl in his tone, an I told you so that barely made it to words even privately; how long had he been holding that in? "Surely you must've felt like you wanted, you needed to get away from him, that he wasn't good for you, that you-" He'd told him so many times, some it must have stuck, some of it had to have-

"Then-!" Edgar's eyes shot open, wide and desperate with an edge of disbelief. A strangled gasp escaped him, half-choking him as he tried to speak. "Then why can't I remember you?!"

He almost began rolling off the cuff, but really, he still didn't know for sure. And it definitely wasn't like he could tell the truth even if he wanted to; who, who hadn't lived it, would believe him? Edgar certainly wouldn't, not with his lack of imagination. He had to dress this up, weave a narrative that was plausible, had the perfect mix of truth and falsehood to stand up to scrutiny.

Huh. Ironic.

"I..." No. Some of this was Edgar's fault too. "We...argued."

"Argued?"

"I... Mng." He wanted to aim for some kind of levity, but his throat had tightened on him. He just wanted to tell this stupid inside joke and not have it affect him, not have it mean anything, and here he was getting emotional? He'd say it and fucking mean it. "It's not like I'm in your head, so-" spat out in a rush, there, he'd said it. Haha, isn't that so funny. He swallowed harshly, pushing down everything he felt into his stomach acid. He was in control. He was fine. This didn't shake him. "I can't know for sure," another humourless laugh inside, "but I was against your relationship with Johnny. Maybe you shut me out so you could keep seeing him with no pushback."

It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibilities of what Edgar would do to avoid taking Scriabin's extremely basic advice about fraternizing with serial killers. How many times had he been ignored up to this point, only to culminate in the ultimate 'I don't know what you're talking about.' Pfeh. I bet he wishes he'd thought of this sooner. It did nothing for his painfully stuttered pulse.

"You know, I've been trying to convince you to stop going back to him for a while, but, well..." He waved his hand at Edgar's hand still death gripped into his shoulder, and Edgar averted his eyes guiltily. At least he showed some remorse. Better than his nigh constant apologia.

He stayed quiet a moment longer, and just before Scriabin made to fill the silence again, Edgar struck him with an intense look.

"What are you to me?" Ugh. Of course. There was not a single good answer for that. Even if he told him everything- no, especially if he told him everything, there was no way Edgar would believe him. But coming up with a convincing lie on the spot, when they were so clearly something to each other - even he needed time to come up with something workable. How could he have ever prepared for a situation like this? It was never meant to happen, so many things were never meant to happen!

He continued at Scriabin's silence. "You know Nny," Ugh! Even his awful nickname. "And Todd. And...me." He couldn't refute it, so he nodded tightly. "Do you live here?"

Technically he had, and technically he hadn't. Still, going forward, it would be easier to let Edgar assume that he did. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go at the moment anyway.

"Yes."

"Are we..." He searched him, looked him over as much as he could and he wasn't subtle about it. If only Scriabin had his proper glasses, he'd let him look as much he wanted, behold his spectacle! As it was, he just felt self-conscious and it was very unbefitting. "...family?"

The baggage on that. He did not feel like opening that particular can of worms in either of their current states. He turned his head and flipped through any number of halfway decent ways to phrase it until he hit on something Edgar would remember. Better not to contradict for now.

"You told Johnny you have no family when you met."

"That's true..." Edgar blinked, processing. "Wait, did I tell you that?" Scriabin startled. Even after he'd accounted for his memory! Of course he had to pick his story apart now, he never knew when to leave well enough alone.

"When you-" No, he had to be involved. "When we bandaged your face."

Edgar mulled on that for a few seconds, taking on a thoughtful pose. "I only remember being alone."

"You don't remember me at all. What do you want from me?" He huffed.

"No, sorry, you're right."

"Thank you." He was right!

Where had Edgar expected him to be? There was something weird about how he'd said it. He filed the thought away for later.

"So, if you've been living here, where..." Edgar looked around the room, then back to Scriabin. "Where have you been sleeping? Todd's already on the couch..."

Scriabin couldn't help as a smile sprung to his face. If he was going to present him with such a perfect opportunity, well, he'd better take it. He even had the decency to look nervous in response! This was too good.

"Would you believe me if I said right here, in bed?" He again tucked his chin, playfully this time, his hair falling further in his eyes. Even through the dark tangles he could make out Edgar's face immediately bristling with heat.

Ooh. That's such a fetching shade on you, my dear.

"But-! I, I haven't been sleeping on the floor!" He was visibly sweating!

"Correct." His smile grew. This was too easy, and he needed an easy win right about now.

"W-" He leaned forward on his legs, though refused to get any closer. When he spoke it was a harsh whisper. "Why...?"

Scriabin shrugged easily, not bothering to reign in his smile in the least. "I mean, where else, right?" He leaned in since Edgar refused to, and oh. He was blushing all the way up to his scalp. Hilarious. "You certainly didn't seem to mind." He couldn't hold back the slightly musical tone or his eyebrows inclination to move on their own. His body knew what he was getting at, and he could see it only increased Edgar's fluster. All the better.

"Well I do now!" Edgar darted up and away, stumbling in his hasty retreat. "If you'll excuse me!" though he was already practically in the hallway by the time he said it. What a display, and Scriabin's laugh was loud and natural.

Finally, something positive. He'd managed to fumble his way through, not his best work in lying or manipulation, but he'd set some important groundwork. He'd gotten some answers, and he could start to shape some more believable stories around them.

The biggest hurdles were Johnny and Devi. As long as Edgar didn't meet with them too soon - or well, at all would be preferable, but he doubted he could just keep him locked up, as much as the idea appealed to him. There were so many things that were possible now, things that he had the ability to do, given the right circumstances... All of that in due time. For now he had a yarn to spin.

He listened as Edgar fumbled in the hall, the sheer sound of cloth being pulled and folded over an arm barely perceptable. Was he really going to try to sleep on what little was left over? Maybe he'd give up once he realized the pickings were thin and beg Scriabin to let him sleep with him. Hah.

While he was out, Scriabin made his way over to the pajamas drawer. They were all old and soft, even just to his hand. They'd do for now, until he could get his own. It wasn't like he hadn't worn all this before anyway.

By the time he'd finished dressing, his clothes discarded on the opposite side of the bed to where Edgar had set up his little nest, Edgar had finally gotten himself a set of pajamas. He wondered for a moment if he'd dress with Scriabin in the room again, though maybe his intense stare drove him off. Who could say. He patted the bed with a wide grin when he returned and was dutifully ignored. He settled down to the side, and Scriabin laid on his arms to look down at him.

"Ugh, lame."

"I don't-"

"Yeah, whatever." He'd heard it all before. At least he could literally look down on him like this. He folded his hands and leaned just a bit further, looking him over. A desire he hadn't realized he had surfaced in the dark and quiet. "Give me your hand."

"Sorry?" Scriabin held out his hand expectantly.

"I used to hear your heart beat every day." Edgar looked at him incredulously, but Scriabin was unperturbed. "Let me hear it again."

He hesitated but eventually slowly offered his arm. "...Okay."

He pulled his arm up and placed his thumb against his wrist. He felt a strange mismatch - where he'd been expecting one heartbeat, there were two. He covered his surprise, near shock at the realization that of course he had his own body now, by pulling harder on Edgar's arm, directing him up to his ear.

"Wh-"

"Shh." Quietly. He had wanted this, wanted this body, this separation, this freedom for so long, and now... He spoke quietly, his voice betraying nothing. "I'm listening."

Edgar's pulse was erratic, but he hardly paid attention to it. His own fingers on Edgar's skin, warm and pliant, and Edgar's fingers twitching in his hair, he could feel it, he was trying not to touch him- This hesitation was killing him, every jerky movement away not from fear of what Scriabin could do to him, just uncertainty, like he was still a stranger- He pressed him harder to his head, and he could feel goosebumps under his fingers. He wanted to just hold him there until all the memories they'd shared poured back through him, into his blood, into his breath.

Where are you?

But he replied in that same uncertain, guarded tone that indicated he didn't know, not really.

"C...can I have my arm back now?"

He pushed him away. "Fine." Edgar curled his hand protectively against his chest, and he noticed he rubbed it slightly, he probably hadn't even realized.

He mumbled out a harried "Good night," and it was almost enough to make Scriabin smile. Almost. He could still affect him but this wasn't enough, it wasn't right.

He laid his head on the pillow, not bothering to pull his arm up over the side of the bed. If he twitched in the night and touched Edgar, well, that could mean anything. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he did it on purpose. Plausible deniability was one of his greatest assets.

As it was, he was just tired. Maybe he didn't pull it back because he hated the thought of sleeping alone, pushed out and forgotten, and hated it more that he was even thinking something like that. How pathetic. He didn't need anyone, especially not Edgar.

But he was tired. Not in his right mind.

Does this mean we can start over...?

The thought echoed and died, and he slept.

[prosebushpatch]

So I decided to restart my animal crossing new leaf for the 3ds file completely but I didn't know that Tom Nook would OFFER TO BUY the entire town and let you carry over the money to the new town and it's hysterical because the mayor basically peaces out, cashes in on 30 million bells, changes entire identity, and accidentally becomes the mayor in a new town. There's a fanfic there but I'm too lazy to write it.

[grineerios]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Warframe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Original Tenno Character(s) (Warframe), Gauss (Warframe), Alad V Additional Tags: Harm to Children, Flashbacks, POV Alternating, Independent Warframe Summary:

After a near-death event catapults a young Tenno from the grasp of the Second Dream, Rufus and his Gauss warframe are forced to remember their pasts and come to terms with their current selves.

[risingsunresistance]

admins are allergic to patch notes

[izzy-b-hands]

The PP IT guy admitting he's the only one available to help prep and do chart work for telehealth appts is. Something. Makes me feel for everyone working there rn even more than usual

(did also gently say to him to maybe not mention that to anyone else bc like. That's not necessarily on with good practices re: chart work in my experience at the old clinic job, but also I personally don't care bc he's v nice and I trust him with my info. Others might not tho when they're expecting a nurse or a nurse tech/etc role to be calling ahead of the appt instead)

[frozenambiguity]

Very long Initial thoughts and first impressions on the Caribert Archon Quest in the tags. Spoiler alert!! Part 2!

[littlestarxmilkyway]

I collected links I've seen across sites for donating in the US, and abroad.

Links to help survivors in the DRC:

Pads for Sudan:

Other funds for Sudan, and a general information link:

Abortion fund, mutual aid and mask funding in the US:

[jeremiahthefroge]

literally obsessed w writing fanfic. So glad I decided to pick it back up. I'm not ready to like, announce it on the actual fic bc I don't want to ACTUALLY get anybody's hopes up, bc I literally can't stick to a project for more than 2 minutes, but I've been slowly going back over my old ATLA fic And You Saved Me, Maybe, in which Zuko joins the Gaang way early in season 1 after the Blue Spirit episode, bc I wrote like 60k words and it blew the hell up on Ao3, like that shit was my Magnum Opus in high school, and I've made a lot of progress as a writer since then. It's always kinda haunted me that I didn't ever finish it, but I just can't work with the fic as it is now, so I'm like, COMPLETELY reworking it. The other day, I reread it, and took 10 pages of notes on the exact plot/character beats that I introduced. That fic is a MESS. I wanna fix it up, finish it, and release it.

I love trying to accurately nail Zuko and Aang's characters as I've come to understand them as an adult. Zuko's sort of prideful defiance in season 1 is something that I totally skipped right over in the fic. I was working with an understanding of Zuko that I had after the entire show was over and it just didn't work for season 1 Zuko, which made his whole arc totally whatever.

And also now I can smoke pot and I know how to write a story outline. So we know this shit will be inherently better. I'm seriously hoping I can actually get this going properly, and I'm encouraged because I've written a bit of it a night for like a week, so we'll see what's up with all that.

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Urgent: @fahedshehab-new

Vetted, vetted, ButterflyEffect Project #764 | Paypal (proof of legitimacy here)

Old gfm campaign closed (more details here and under the cut), new gfm going through issues (DON'T DONATE HERE RIGHT NOW, I'll keep you updated). Do NOT ask for a refund yet, they're still trying to get the funds out!

Fahed endangered himself to get to a place with a good enough internet connection to send this video of his children to me so I can share it with everyone. Please watch it.

He needs CAD $5,055 in his campaign (includes additional fees) to rent a safe shelter to protect his children from the winter cold. This value may be subject to change. Roughly $1,000 - $2,000 in donations will be spent on living necessities such as food.

Slightly more details and updates:

Nov 16: There are some problems with the new campaign. Fahed and the campaign manager are currently trying to resolve it, so don't donate but also don't request a refund yet. They're currently taking donations in this Paypal (proof of legitimacy here).

Nov 10: Don't request a refund from the old campaign yet, the campaign manager is appealing the bank to lift the ban and get the funds out!

[ID in alt text]

Nov 9:

The old campaign was closed and its description links to the new one here. Read more about it here. At the time of closing, the campaign only needed €3,338 to reach its short-term goal. This is CAD $4,968, which is a goal of $87 + $4,968 = $5,055 in the new campaign.

Nov 5:

The children catch colds living in tents, which are difficult to treat. My note: Medications are expensive, in demand, and difficult to find at times.

Priority: Fahed wants to rent an apartment to protect his family for ~€1,700 a month for at least 3 months. This would cost ~€5,000.

Food prices have spiked and even flour for making bread is not available. Milk for baby Yahya is expensive and difficult to find. The children are suffering from malnutrition.

Fahed has set a goal of €82,000 in his campaign to pay rent and feed his children. This amount accounts for extra fees.

[yujateaandpi]

Gravity Falls Thirty More Years AU and Art Masterlist

Here's all the pages of the comic in order plus some of the other GF stuff I've made. I'll keep updating this list to make it easy on y'all.

Edit: I have a new tagging system! All asks will be tagged #thirtymoreyearsau without spaces, and all comics and fic updates will be tagged #thirty more years au with spaces. If you want the whole story together, then you can filter using this tag on my account! Filtered link here.

If you like the comic and would like to support it, here’s my tip jar!

Thirty More Years AU Comic:

Page 1

Pages 2 and 3

Page 4

Page 5

Page 6

Page 7

Pages 8 and 9

Page 10

Pages 11 and 12

Pages 13 and 14

Prequel Multiverse Mini Comic

Epistolary Prequel Companion/ Dipper's Diary Entries:

"Dear Mabel, I Miss You"

Answers to Common Questions:

What is the Thirty Years AU?

A Gravity Falls fan story and comic about what would happen if Mabel and Ford both fall into a leftover multiverse rift at the end of summer. They experience a week of silly adventures but return to a world where 30 years have passed and Dipper + co have aged without them. Told as both a comic and a companion fic.

2. How old are the characters?

Answer

3. When does the story take place relative to the show?

Answer

4. Where's Bill?

Answer

5. Where else can I read the comic? Will you distribute it on a site?

Releasing it on my Instagram (but Tumblr gets the pages earlier cause y'all are special). As for releasing it on a site, answer here.

6. How many pages/ how long will the comic approximately be?

Subject to change, but here's my answer for now.

7. How often will you post/ when will you post again?

Here's my answer for now, but if there's delays between posts please don't spam me with questions on when I'll post again. The updates will come when they come and I'm trying to keep this flexible.

8. Is this Drifting Stars AU/ Other Similar AU?

Answer

9. Someone's reposting on TikTok/ Other social media! Are you okay with this?

No, and please report them if you can. Answer here.

11. Will you tag me/ make a tag list?

Answer

12. Why haven't you answered my question?

Answer

13. What art program/ brushes do you use?

Answer

Other Fanart

Twin Glare^2

Kitten Sweater

Pines Pines Pines

Happy Birthday Twins

Gravity Falls The Odyssey AU

Sona Shenanigans

Fiddleford to the rescue

mystery trio eizouken

twins in time mini comic

F-fiddlestan…🥺

Stan Pines Mini Character Analysis Essays

Apparently I do this a lot, so collecting them in one place:

Poll thots

Rough and tumble little Stanley

Stan Appreciation

that magic 8 ball man…

off topic Billford thots

off topic Fiddleford thots

off topic Fiddlestan thots

off topic Emma May thots