Nyarnia-time - Aydens Page - Tumblr Blog

reblog to bonk the person you reblogged it from with a hollow cardboard tube

Me too

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

why not

i want. a cicada on one arm and a crayfish on the other

I fucking hate it when people hold romance above friendship I hate it I fucking hate it.

The duality of man is thinking “children cannot help themselves and we all need to be patient with them as they explore what it means to be human in public” and also “damn, I wish this crying baby was not on the plane rn :/“

I feel like each year I meet so many amazing new people! Crazy to think 18 year old me probably didn't even know half the people I cherish in my life today. It makes me excited for all the lovely people I have yet to meet ♡

Fucking CRYING IM USING THAT PHRASE FOR EVERYTHING NOW

can someone please be proud of me like fuck I’m trying

"oh, if you make out with friends, you could ruin the friendship" so who am i supposed to kiss? my enemies? get a grip

me

"the world isn't kind" ok??? Much more importantly are you?????

To any high school graduate about to start university seeing this right now: I need you to understand, like genuinely, fully understand, that your grades will drop, but it's going to be okay. There are a lot of things to look forward to about being in university but your classes will be significantly harder. If you stake your identity and self esteem purely or even significantly on your grades, please re-evaluate. Find other things you love about yourself, and understand that its going to be hard, but it will be okay.

Hell yeah

reblog if you want more interaction w your lovely followers

OKAY TUMBLR. IT'S TIME TO SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL.

Reblog this if you pronounce “.gif” as “GIF.”

NOT JIF,

GIF.

And here is the link for the opposite.

WE SHALL SEE WHICH ONE PREVAILS.

don’t!!! fake!!!! your!!!! interests!!!! to!!!! make!!!! someone!!!! like!!!!! you!!!!

Reblogging to look at later

3HATS AU Masterlist

And better. Every post will be linked and it'll be updated with each new one!

Cries For Help / Traveling

AND YOU JUST SIT THERE / Traveling w/ party: Cowritten w/ @anonymous-utility

Act 1:

Act 2:

Act 3:

Flower for you!

But then who was on the phone? / Sif3 loops 1 2

Act 4:

King HFQ / Stardust loops

Act 5:

Act 6:

2hats fight / 1 2

Extra:

Random traveling dump

Starloop + Sif3 dance

Loop

This loop was shit

Shitposting

House stay / Traveling

Why dis look so mad

Colorize them

Designs

Bill Cipher VS a Dill Pickle

Bill Cipher drifted through the boundless void between dimensions, his singular eye scanning the vast multiverse with a weary disinterest. The thrill of warping reality and twisting minds had begun to dull after countless eons. The chaos that once fueled his existence now seemed monotonous. He craved something new, something so mundane that he could delight in turning it into something bizarre. That’s when he saw it: a small, unassuming deli nestled in the heart of a quiet little town, in a dimension that had somehow evaded his notice until now. The place was quaint, almost laughably ordinary, with a red and white striped awning. "Bob’s Deli" was painted in neat, cheerful letters on the window. The sheer normalcy of it sparked a wicked idea in Bill’s twisted mind.

“This is perfect,” Bill cackled, his voice reverberating through the void like a sinister echo. “Let’s see what happens when chaos comes to lunchtime!”. In a flash of yellow light, Bill zipped through the dimensional rift, materializing in the center of the deli. The bell above the door jingled as if announcing his arrival, though no one seemed to notice the sudden appearance of a floating triangle with an all-seeing eye.

The deli was cozy, with wooden shelves lined with jars of pickles, fresh loaves of bread, and various condiments. The counters displayed platters of meats and cheeses, meticulously arranged by Bob, the middle-aged owner with a kind smile and an apron that bore the marks of years of service. Bill floated lazily over the shelves, his eye zeroing in on the rows of pickle jars. Each one was filled to the brim with crisp, tangy pickles. Their briny liquid catched the overhead lights and gave the display an almost magical sheen. The pickles varied in size and shape. Some tall and slender, others short and stout…but all were carefully labeled, as if they were precious treasures to Bob, rather than mere snacks. As Bill inspected the jars, his eye was drawn to one pickle in particular…a plump, green gherkin that seemed to occupy nearly the entire jar. Its surface was glossy, and it looked as if it were glowing with some inner vitality.

Bill clapped his skinny black hands together. “At last!” he thought to himself. “I’ve found a pickle worthy of my time!”. He hovered closer, his voice dripping with mischief. “Hey there, green guy! You’re looking… fresh. Hows about we have a little chat, you and me?”. The pickle, shiny and briny, remained still in its jar. Its bumpy surface reflected the light of the quant deli, but it offered no response. No sudden burst of life, no sprouting of arms or legs, no squeaky voice acknowledging Bill’s presence. Bill’s eye twitched, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Come on, don’t be shy. I’m Bill Cipher! Dream demon, master of chaos, all that jazz. You’ve probably heard of me, right?”.

But the pickle stayed silent, its green form utterly unresponsive. It was just… a pickle.

Bill floated even closer, scrutinizing the pickle with suspicion. “Okay, maybe you’re one of those strong, silent types. That’s cool. But you’ve got to have something to say. What’s it like being a pickle? Any deep thoughts on life in brine?”. Still, the pickle offered nothing in return. It sat there, looking like every other pickle that had ever existed. It was completely indifferent to the fact that it was being addressed by a reality-bending entity. Bill’s patience, such as it was, began to fray. He circled the jar, tapping it with a spectral finger. “You know, I only come around every one hundred years,” Bill began to lie. “I only ever appear when one of the greatest minds of a generation needs a muse. And YOU, dear former cucumber, are that greatest mind! So, what do ya say? Want me to be your muse?”

But the pickle didn’t so much as twitch.

“Look, you gherkin,” Bill snapped, his frustration boiling over his lie. “I can give you anything! Freedom from the jar, endless adventures, maybe even a spot on a gourmet platter! But you gotta do something in return for me”. The deli carried on with its normal routine, customers coming and going, oblivious to the cosmic drama unfolding in their midst. Bill, however, was fixated on the silent pickle, refusing to let it win whatever strange game this was. He tried everything, such as snapping his fingers to animate it, making exaggerated gestures…he even offered bribes of fame and fortune. But the pickle remained stubbornly non-verbal.

Finally, Bill sighed, floating back in reluctant defeat. “Alright, fine. Be that way. You might just be the most stubborn pickle I’ve ever met.” He paused, then added with a grudging hint of respect, “That’s kind of impressive”. With that, Bill turned away, leaving the pickle to its jar. As he floated off to find some other form of amusement, he couldn’t resist glancing back one last time, half-expecting the pickle to spring to life. But it didn’t.

Bill looked down at the deli’s linoleum floor, defeated. “It’s moments like these where I miss Sixer most of all” he sighed to himself. And with a final, echoing snap of the fingers, Bill zipped off into the chaos, leaving behind a simple, unassuming cucumber preserved in brine…completely impervious to the madness that was Bill Cipher.