Hi, howdy, I am deceased
Does anyone know where this is from?

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@maybemoira
Hi, howdy, I am deceased
Does anyone know where this is from?

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Do you know what a witch is?
Do you know what a witch does?
A witch makes things go her way
J̸̻̻͋̔o̸̤̪͕̊̓͝y̶̧̮̻̣̞̝͉̺̓̆́̈́̓̅̋̀̑͘ͅ Hecate Hardbroom couldn’t bring Ada back, even after offering her magic; her self - and I am still not okay.
Do you know what a witch is?
Do you know what a witch does?
A witch makes things go her way
Do you know what a witch is?
Do you know what a witch does?
Do you know what a witch is?
Do you know what a witch does?

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Do you know what a witch is?
Do you know what a witch is?
Do you know what a witch is?
(so I was watching a diss video in Lele Pons and saw this) Hello? ¿Hecate eres tu?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Words: 560 Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom Characters: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle, Hardbroom (Worst Witch) Additional Tags: Dimity Drill (mentioned), Supernatural AU - Freeform, shameless lust/fluff, Fluff, First Kiss, But also, Established Relationship, vampire, (Spoiler sorry) Summary:
Ada contemplates the snacc that is Hecate Hardbroom.

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Dimity : say it !
HB : no.
Everyone in the staf room : please ! Say it !
HB : no !
Ada : come on Hecate, just this time !
HB : fine.... Frrrrrrrrrrog.
Post with 0 views. Hardbroom "Frog"
You know what bugs me about soulmate aus? So, I’m assuming that this whole “the first thing your soulmate says to you blahblahblah” is a worldwide thing. So many of the aus I’ve read have a quote at some point that addresses how tragic it is when people have soul words that say something like “hi” or “‘sup” which makes NO SENSE! In a world where the first thing you say to people is THAT important, WHY GOD WHY would the culture still use standard greetings? Who the fuck is still saying hello at this point? Everyone in these worlds would surely develop a personalized greeting different from everybody else’s to prevent confusion. Like how no 2 racehorses can have the same racing name? The best part is that every time people met someone new for the first time, they would try to say something that no one else had said. You’d have people meeting eachother at a job intetview, they’d shake hands, smile politely, then one of them would be like “Every Tuesday, I hard even grape purple farm house sunsets too” and this would be perfectly normal. Or you’d go up to the cash register at Starbucks and instead of saying “Hello, what can i get for you today?” She’d look you right in the eye and say “I don’t know what Space Jam is” THEN ask you what you want and she’d repeat that to every customer in the line for the rest of her career. And because they live in the AU, nobody would think it was weird.
op you are forcibly opening my third eye with a crowbar and i am here for it
Also: we change and evolve as people all the time.
As a toddler, you are not the whole person (and personality) that your soulmate will fall in love with; maybe after the death of your first pet you grow and mature into them.
Maybe after discovering a new hobby, you find your passion in life and the words glow into your skin.
Maybe it's not till your 45, depressed, halfway through a glass of something and your second divorce, that the words finally appear, "Hey pal, you doin' alright there?".
Friendly reminder that Hecabae's eyes glow with her power
scribbling Hecate’s face as per usual.
still trying to learn to do digital art. Still failing. In fact, I seem to be getting worse so better post it now before I wreck it even further.
"Mildred's been rather clever."
"Clever, maybe~"

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hicsqueak sharing candy 🎃
Miss Hardbroom never attends Halloween celebrations. Her first year, Mildred looked around, her austere potions teacher nowhere to be found, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. It had been the first time in so long she didn’t feel like she was being watched at every turn (even when she managed to upend the entire bucket of bobbing apples on Ethel Hallow).
Her second year, the school froze. It was hard to ignore the lingering chill in the air, even the warmth from the candles not quite enough; but her mum had been there, dancing and laughing, and everyone was fine, everyone was safe, and even Miss Hardbroom, before she left, seemed...well, Mildred thinks “impressed” might be going too far, but she had been softer than usual, almost, almost, smiling.
(Mildred isn’t certain she’s ever seen Miss Hardbroom smile. She imagines she must, sometimes - or else, she thinks, how horribly, horribly sad.)
Her third year, Mildred was so obsessed with the wishing star and her Mum and angry, always so angry, furious with Miss Hardbroom for the way she treated her mum, for the way she treated her and her friends and everyone, and she hadn’t cared in the slightest that Miss Hardbroom wasn’t at the festivities, said, when Maud brought it up, good, I hope she’s miserable somewhere else and hadn’t felt bad about it, not then, not for months after, until magic and Indigo and Joy.
Mildred thinks about it more than she would like - that her name used to be Joy, that she used to have joy, that maybe, if someone had helped Joy like Miss Hardbroom helped her—
Mildred shakes her head and sweeps her eyes around the great hall, full of students and teachers and even a few parents, looking for Maud and Enid. Instead, there’s a flash of pink and she looks back abruptly, finds Miss Pentangle at a table near the back, talking to Miss Drill, a glass of punch in her hands.
Continuing her scan, she doesn’t see Miss Hardbroom, and wonder if she knows. She has half a mind to go get her, but then Enid appears at her side, and apple between her teeth muttering something about Miss Bat doing face painting and there’s Maud with icing on her nose and Mildred forgets for a few hours about everything except her friends and bright magic and sweet foods and laughter.
It isn’t until later, mich later, when the crowd has started to thin, that Mildred remembers Miss Pentangle, and wishes she’d gone up to say hello. She scans the room but can’t find her, and thinks perhaps she’s gone home, back to her own school and her own pupils.
She thinks this, until she bids Maud and Enid goodnight, her eyes heavy, and makes her way back to her room along the low-lit corridors.
“I’m just saying,” she hears, a soft, familiar voice, “there’s nothing sinister about apple bobbing.”
Mildred stops just before the corner.
“It’s hardly the apple bobbing that concerns me,” Miss Hardbroom replies, terse as always, and Mildred puts her back to the wall and, after a few tries, summons a small mirror. It’s a trick Miss Hardbroom, of all people, taught her during their last catastrophe, a way to peer around corners without being seen.
Angling the mirror, she’s unsurprised to see Miss Hardbroom and Miss Pentangle, but is a bit curious to see them sitting side by side in the stairwell, Miss Pentangle, as always,
leaning slightly into Miss Hardbroom’s space, Miss Hardbroom, as always, straight spined, her hands folded together in her lap.
“So what does concern you?”
There’s a long pause, and Mildred watches in the mirror as Miss Pentangle waits patiently, eyes never leaving Miss Hardbroom’s face.
“It’s Samhain,” she says eventually. “It’s tradition.”
“Traditions can change.”
“Not at the expense of our magic. Candy and costumes are nothing but distractions. Half the girls don’t know why they’re celebrating in the first place.”
“Do you teach them?”
Miss Hardbroom glares at her. “It is not our responsibility to educate witches on their own holidays.”
“What about witches like Mildred?” Miss Pentangle asks, and Mildred has to resist the urge to look properly around the corner. “Does she even know about the Veil?”
Miss Hardbroom’s jaw clenches. “Not unless her friends have informed her, though I doubt Miss Nightshade is an expert on the crossing.”
“So…” Miss Pentangle prompts, and Miss Hardbroom arches an eyebrow. “So teach them,” she says, bumping Miss Hardbroom’s shoulder. “You can hardly expect any girls to show reverence for tradition if they don’t even know what those traditions are. And who better to teach them than the mistress of traditions herself?”
Miss Hardbroom glares at her again, but Miss Pentangle just laughs. She drops the subject, turning instead to rifle through her bag, saying, “Speaking of which…”
When she turns, she holds out a bag of what look like sour candies and offers it to Miss Hardbroom.
Miss Hardbroom eyes it disdainfully.
“Oh come on, Hiccup. Just try one. I promise you’ll like it.”
“You said that every year.”
“You don’t trust me?”
Miss Pentangle bats her eyelashes and Mildred expects Miss Hardbroom to vanish the offending candy away. Instead, she seems to soften, a strange look on her face before she relents, selecting a piece of candy from the bag between her nails, eyeing it suspiciously.
Miss Pentangle smirks. “I promise it won’t bite. This time.”
Miss Hardbroom huffs, but gingerly takes a bite, her face contorting slightly. “Delicious,” she says, and Miss Pentangle huffs, waving away the candy.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Miss Hardbroom looks a bit guilty. “I’m not one for sweets, Pippa. You know that.”
“I know,” she says, and then, leans in and busses a kiss to Miss Hardbroom’s cheek. “But thank you for trying anyway.”
Miss Hardbroom pinks, but doesn’t pull away. “Yes, well,” she says, “It’s tradition.”
Miss pentangle beams, and takes her hand, and Mildred slowly backs away, decides she’ll take the long way around, so as not to disturb them.
She makes it back to her room just after midnight, and finds, on the center of her bed, a familiar bag of candy, tied with pink ribbon.
I'm so psyched that after 3 seasons of screaming "where is her BAFTA?" at my TV raquel cassidy is officially a BAFTA nominee for her work as hecate hardbroom like
I can't find a source for this, can you link me?
http://www.bafta.org/children/awards/childrens-awards-nominations-and-winners-2019
🙏🙏 Thank you
And bless her, Bella Ramsey is nominated for child performer too- and the director.