#more tags more clout

[chillaxzmadudesz]

some ducks :)

webby is sooooo cuuutttee <333

[elodieunderglass]

Eggs for Killie is over!

I award myself the 150th egg for all of the little bits of art. Thank you so much for inspiring me to make them! It’s been really amazing to see all the hard work and to truly appreciate the wide range of crafts and activities everyone can do. Bobbin lace? Shoemaking? Knife forging? Translating Irish? It’s genuinely incredible.

I also really appreciated the people who were taking a rest, too. Thank you for that as well.

And I SUPER, SUPER appreciate everyone who was going through saying encouraging words, leaving replies/reblogging with comments, or liking all these posts. That was also a huge outpouring of kindness and time. I saw you doing it (and tried to make sure OPs did too) and any credit for people feeling empowered? That’s for YOU.

I know for a fact that people were following each other simply because they spotted one of their people through doing this. Thank you for being here - and being brave enough to find each other! 

If you have a project you were working on specifically for this, and missed the inbox, drop me a message - I don’t want to miss you.

150 eggs x 60g (weight of medium-large chicken egg) is 9000g of eggs.

That’s 16.8% of Killie’s body weight in eggs.

I am planning to write a book about Killie and I think it will be very VERY funny to acknowledge every single username who contributed in the acknowledgements…

…. Because I am planning to throw them back at you.

Now rest up, everyone. April Fools tomorrow, we gotta make the REST of the website unusable.

[timbrainpopkinnie]

Hi guys do people like Sleep Deprived on Tumblr

I didn’t draw Schlatt this time because he’s a man

[shartfinz]

She said, "Come on, come on, kiss my battery/Come on, come on, I'll be your android girl."

[chimera-dolls]

Hey actual-users-of-the-dollblr tag!

Yes you! Reading this! I bet you're into actual dolls. Physical dolls. Doll collecting, custom dolls, art dolls etc. and not c0qu3tte shit.

This is your friendly reminder that spamming irrelevant tags on posts is spam. Legitimately spam, and against Tumblr User Guidelines!

You can, and should! report them! If you're familiar with how to report a spambot on tumblr already, you know how to report for spam.

May you have a blessed, and on-topic Dollblr feed~

[yrdnzz]

something i started during blacktober but didn't finish until a few months ago

[bloodmoonblitz]

wizard, cleric, who cares? this guy casts SPELLS

[leviathan-supersystem]

not to be a beatles defender but i've noticed that people who argue that the beach boys were better than the beatles seem to pretend the beach boys never made any music either before or after pet sounds

[hungergameshyperfixation]

Oh you think you were a fan of Maysilee Donner, Haymitch Abernathy, Haymitch’s family + girlfriend, Katniss’s parents, Plutarch Heavensbee, the Undersees, the second Quarter Quell, etc, BEFORE Sunrise on the Reaping was announced?

How many of you wrote FANFICTION about them???

No seriously I’m not doubting you I just want some fanfic recs-

[mommyashtoreth]

Cro, la belle écossaise (Crowley, the beautiful Scotswoman)

Study/redraw of a Courbet painting I saw at the Met recently! (Original painting under the cut) I see a painting of a woman with red hair and I think of her... trying to mix my regular style with more "painterly" elements, I definitely wanna do this again

[a-usernamelol]

MCtober week two: how my mc behaves in history class

idk I didn’t have time or motivation to finish this all nice so get a rough ass shitsketch lol

Also ignore that I forgot Sebastian’s freckles I cannot be bothered to care 🥰

[lizardkingeliot]

if i suddenly become a thousand times more annoying on here it's because i'm trying *really* hard to spend less time on twitter because iwtvtwt is nothing but the same stolen gifs being reposted over and over again without credit in between the same mind-numbingly dull discourse recycling itself with the phases of the moon and it's becoming incredibly grating to witness lol

[allay-uxini]

Nightmare Burns

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

Word Count: 2000

Fandom: Wild life, life series (On ao3: 3rd life | Last life SMP series)

Charcters: Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Goodtimeswithscar, Jimmy Solidarity, ZombieCleo, Minor Joel Smallishbeans, Minor Bdubs

Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity + Lizzie | LDShadowLady + GoodTimesWithScar, referenced Lizzie | LDShadowLady + Joel | Smallishbeans (these two can be interpreted as platonic or romantic), Lizzie | Ldshadowlady & ZombieCleo

CW: heavy angst, heavily implied self esteem issues, nightmares, unreality, descriptions of burning flesh, traumatised characters, mentions of (non-permanent) death, heavily implied pyromania, mentions of blood, fire

[AO3 link]

-—————————————————————————————————- When Lizzie opened her eyes, she expected to be greeted by the sight of her Bamboozlers, with Jimmy curled at her chest, his messy golden hair tickling her neck, and Scar holding them both in his arms.

But when she woke up, the ground below her wasn’t the disarray of blankets and pillows synonymous with their morning nest, but rather blades of grass brushing against her skin.

This isn't the Bamlands. 

Lizzie is outside the server.

She surveys the area, but wherever Lizzie looked, she couldn't find her Bamboozlers. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t find anyone.  

She could see other players walking past her, chatting about… something Lizzie couldn’t quite pick up, seemingly oblivious to their warped reality.

She tries to call out to a group, BigB, Skizz and Tango.

“Hello? What’s going on?”

They don't respond, they don’t even bother to stop. They just keep walking as if Lizzie never spoke.

Was she too quiet? Maybe she needs to get closer.

Instead of calling out as they pass her, she runs towards the next group she sees, Gem, Scott and Impulse, blocking their path to force a conversation.

“Look, I was wondering if– wait!” 

They don’t even bat an eye, turning the other direction the moment Lizzie called.

This is so weird 

She almost thinks about giving up, to explore this strange place on her own. Lizzie can tell they’re ignoring her.

But then, she notices something. A yellow hoodie, messy brown hair and a singular neon green highlight. 

Joel 

Lizzie can ask Joel to help! He wouldn’t ignore her. He was always there for her. He showed up to her birthday party when no-one else did. Surely he’ll talk to her.

“Joel, thank goodness you're here!” Lizzie can’t help the small hint of excitement laced in her voice, an overwhelming relief as she calls out in hopes of being greeted with a familiar smile, finally finding someone who would listen–

He’s not responding.

No not Joel! Anyone but Joel! 

“Joel, wait! It's me! Lizzie!” her voice begins to tremble, but Joel still doesn’t turn around.

“Are you mad at me? Look, I’m sorry I–” she reaches to grab his wrist.

But she phases through him.

Somehow, Lizzie isn't able to touch him.

Joel leaves without ever looking back.

Lizzie stares at her hand, almost in fear, but before she could think, she hears crying.

The sobbing is coming from the house behind her, one with pink cherry wood walls, an orange roof and a small green stem stick from the top, almost like a pumpkin.

Wasn’t that her house? 

It certainly was, but who would be inside her house? She looks around, but no-one else seems to notice the crying. 

She sighs, it seems Lizzie has to investigate herself. With hesitancy in her step, she walks to the door, and knocks. 

No response.

Well, it’s fine if she breaks into her own home, right? She opens the door and–

And she sees herself.

All she sees are a birthday cake, the flickering candle on-top, and herself. Sobbing.

That’s… not normal

“Hey, uh, other me?” She kneels down, attempting to stay composed, but her voice betrays her, still wavering, unsure what to think of the strange sight.

Though, what’s stranger still is that this… other Lizzie seems to be the first person to hear her, gradually lifting her head to face her and–

Half her face is charred.

The candle has burnt half of the girl’s face, there were patches of black smeared across her face, flesh bulging in uneven messy clumps, her eye drooping, almost melting from it’s socket as the blood seeps from the cracks until it–

I should run. 

If it means ending up like that, Lizzie can’t spend another second in this place.

She attempts to stand, backing away as quickly as possible, but she loses her balance and stumbles, her body hitting a wall of some kind. 

Lizzie turns her head to find herself backed into the trunk of a tree.

A tree that’s burning. 

She tries to escape, only to be encircled by trees, all turning to ash, flames sparking on branches, lava pouring from the canopy to the ground and the stench of burnt soot engulfing her senses.

Wait, circle of trees? 

Lizzie freezes, a realisation slowly dawning on her.

Is this… 

“I did warn you,” a voice cuts through the crackling of flame, harsh, mocking and so horribly familiar. 

No, not this! Not her!

She shouldn’t be back here. She pretends her ears are just playing tricks on her, that she doesn’t know exactly who’s standing behind her, that she doesn’t know exactly what’s about to happen.

But Lizzie turns around, and there they were.

Vibrant orange hair that outshines the very flames she’s igniting, skin that has greyed and dulled beyond repair, mimicking a corpse and piercing red eyes that haunt her every waking moment.

“Cleo! What are you doing? Why are we here?” Lizzie attempts to plead, maybe she reason with her. The fairy fort was in the past, so why was she here? Doesn’t everything reset after a new season starts?

“Whoever harbours a traitor, is a traitor.” Cleo's face darkens, clenching her bucket of lava even tighter, unaffected by Lizzie words.

Even when in a different season, Lizzie’s cries still fall on deaf ears.

“Cleo this isn’t real! You’ve already won why–”

“You think the boogeyman curse is bad?” Cleo’s smile widens, bearing her horrid, pointy teeth that makes even the sharpest of knives look dull. 

Lizzie shivers.

“I’m a boogeyman now full time!”

“Cleo–” 

“Do me a favour…” they lift the handle of the bucket and, without a moment of hesitation, Cleo throws the lava at Lizzie, the scalding liquid barely missing the edge of her shoe as it chars the grass, reducing it to nothing but rumble and smoke.

Lizzie barely catches her breath, the phantom pains from when her wings were burnt still linger. 

She never forgot what it meant to be scorched.

Lizzie lifts her head, but she already knows the sight. Cleo staring down with blood-shot eyes as the flames grow behind her.

A harbinger of death.

After a heartbeat too long, she finally says it.

“DIE FOR ME”

Next thing she knows, Cleo’s lunges, falling to Lizzie level and begins chasing her.  

Lizzie runs and runs and runs. She doesn’t look back, not even for a moment, paying no mind to the throbbing pain in her legs as they grow numb. 

Cleo laughs, an echoing shrill ringing in Lizzie’s ears, the sound growing louder as they close the distance.

Lizzie keeps on running, praying, desperately trying to find an escape from this hell before–

“I have to do this!”

Bdubs? 

Before she could process the situation, she feels fireworks. One, two, three shots blast through her ribcage, causing her bones to shatter, but Bdubs doesn’t stop. She feels stinging, sparking, burning. 

Lizzie keeps getting pushed back from the blasts, unable to steady herself, stumbling backwards until–

Until Lizzie falls 

A ledge. Bdubs managed to shoot her off a ledge and Lizzie gasps, sinking deeper, never hitting the ground as the world around her changes. From the gentle blues from a clear sky, clouds and sun and light, to deep purples, an endless vacuum of nothingness, bleak and uncaring to those that fall.

Lizzie’s back in the void.

Nonononono! 

Lizzie screams. She screams at the top of her lungs, but even when pushing her vocal cords to the brink, no-one can hear her.

(Lizzie?)

She shouldn't be back, she can’t be back, she needs to escape. 

Lizzie tries to move her body, but something’s holding on down, like hands gripping against her waist, it keeps pulling her further from the surface. She can hardly see any light now.

Lizzie? 

Is the void calling out to her? But why? 

Maybe it’s trying to convince her to stay, to rot into nothing. Is that what it wants, to torture her?

Calm down

The void’s grasp tightens, refusing to release its hold on her.

“Shut up…”

Lizzie…  

The voice softens, almost gentle, but it’s grip never loosens.

“Shut up.”

Lizzie please– 

“I said shut up!”

And like the snapping of a tethered string, Lizzie breaks free. She opens her eyes, only not to see the void, but rather two concerned faces looking down at her.

Jimmy and Scar.

There is no void beneath her, instead she feels the softness of a blanket and a pillow rested against her head, though disheveled with stuffing scattered across the sheets. 

She looks up and is faced with a dark sky, but it is not empty as there are stars twinkling with the moon shining its light above her.

This is the Bamlands, Lizzie’s home. She must have had a nightmare and woke the others up.

She made them worry.

“Are you–” Jimmy tries to speak, but Lizzie cuts him off.

“You two should sleep. I… need some space.”

“Lizzie look, hey wait–” She doesn’t bother to let Scar finish speaking before she runs off.

Lizzie stops just below the mountain, sitting underneath a small cluster of cherry trees, admiring the blossoms that grow from the branches.

Lizzie has always loved flowers, back in the fairy fort she remembers growing some in the fields, peonies and lilacs decorating the walls, poppies lining her house and dandelions dotted across the ground. 

She always loved those flowers, even after they burned. Despite witnessing her garden turn to ash, she still rushed for the cherry blossom trees next season, decorating her base with flowers once again. 

Maybe it’s silly to be so attached over some petals, but even after all this time, she still finds watching them bloom comforting.

“The flowers are nice,” a voice speaks from behind, and Lizzie jolts. She turns her head, only to see Scar sitting on her right.

She looks the other way, she can’t face him yet.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Oh come on Lizzie,” Jimmy laughs as he sits on the other side of her, catching one of the falling petals, “Did you really think we would leave you alone?”

Leave me… alone? 

“You will eventu–” Lizzie slams a hand to cover her mouth to stop herself from continuing. 

She shouldn’t have said that. 

Lizzie expected worried faces, eyes holding a quiet concern, lips curling into a faint wince as they whisper sweet lies. “It’ll be okay,” they’ll say, hiding what they really feel. 

Pity.  

It makes Lizzie sick to her stomach.

What she wasn’t expecting was for Scar to grab one of her shoulders and spin her around to face him, nor the sparks of a quiet resolve flickering in his eyes, nor Scar’s hand resting on hers.

“We won’t,” in his gaze resides something determined, a small hint of empathy, and a lingering regret Lizzie can’t quite seem to name, “You won’t be alone.”

Scar’s grip on Lizzie’s hand tightens, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“How do you know!” Lizzie tries to stifle her cries, but even so, she still chokes on her words.

How pathetic 

“I always die alone! I’m always forgotten! It’s won’t change, it–”

“That’s not true,” Jimmy perks up, wrapping his arms around Lizzie from behind.

“Even if you think you’re cursed and that everything stays the same, things change,” from the corner of her eye, Lizzie sees Jimmy slowly lifting his wings as they curl around her, pale yellow feathers engulfing her vision. Feathers that haven’t grown since the beginning of Secret Life.

“I would know.”

Maybe Lizzie has grown too trusting, maybe she’s become soft, but she couldn’t help the pathetic sobs that escaped her lips.

“Promise?”

Scar moves his hands to pull Lizzie and Jimmy in an embrace, his body warm next to hers, but not burning. For the first time, Lizzie doesn’t feel a fire searing at her skin, only a gentle, comforting warmth.

“Definitely.”

And so, the three of them stay there, holding each other underneath the cherry blossom trees as flowers grow.

[collectorcookie]

So many enstarries will be like "yeah haha i like this game but also it's weird and cringe" and on the other hand many mahoyakkies will look docile on the outside but in reality they are waiting for the perfect moment to grab you by the shoulders and drag you into the depths of wizard hell

[tinystrawberryshifter]

Bro what happened to "Don't tag your hate" ??? Rage bait culture has got to die actually.

[gameprincessanya]

Taking a Break in the Safe Room (Switch!William, Switch!Phone Guy)

Summary: When Scott gets hurt on the job, Henry has William watch over him. William isn't the affectionate type, but he soon finds a way to bond with him that both of them can enjoy!

…

Everything had been going fine. The children were laughing, Freddy was on stage with Bonnie. The guests were chatting amongst themselves and Scott was serving beverages.

William, on the other hand, was telling Henry that his idea would never work. He'd thought of some other animatronics, and designed the costumes, but they were more like fursuits than animatronics and didn't fit the restaurant's style.

In his rage, William gestured a bit too wildly and smacked Scott in the face. He yelped and recoiled, the tray falling out of his hand. The drinks then spilled all over the floor. Panicking, Scott rushed for a towel to clean it up. But he unfortunately slipped on the floor himself. He flailed, and then fell over backwards, hitting his head on the floor. Some of the surrounding customers laughed.

"Scott! Are you alright?" Henry said in a concerned tone. He rushed over to examine him.

When Scott didn't answer, Henry looked up at William.

"It seems like one of us needs to help him."

William nodded.

"Good luck… I'll be on my break."

"Will!" Henry cried angrily. "You did this. You fix it. I need to get the extra costumes ready just in case!"

Growling, William crossed his arms. Why did Henry have to be so mean to him?! Why did Scott have to be such an idiot?!

Looking down at the scene, William thought he may as well take him to the safe room. It was nice and roomy in there, and maybe he could take his break at the same time. Not like an out cold man needed much.

In the safe room, William nibbled on his sandwich. He sat in a chair he'd stolen from the dining area, and had set Scott on a couch he'd stolen from the game room. He didn't know how the day could get any worse, but he wasn't optimistic.

Seeing Scott move didn't unsettle him until the man rose like a zombie to sit up.

Jumping, William glared and held his heart, pounding fast.

"You scared me!"

Looking around, Scott seemed confused.

"Huh? Where are we?"

William explained the situation, not enthused.

"You slipped on the floor and hit your head. Henry wanted me to take care of you."

"Oh."

Scott could hardly remember what happened. All he recalled was the happiness and whimsy he felt before it all went down. Things were silent as Scott processed everything.

"Uh… S-so, did the spill get cleaned up?"

"No idea."

Scott rushed to his feet.

"Then someone's got to-!"

Stopping him, William walked up to him and held his shoulders.

"No. You can't start to work already. You might have a concussion."

"Huh?" He looked confused, but then sat back down. "Oh… Uh, then what?"

"You are staying with me on your break. Or Henry's going to be angry at both of us…"

Scott stayed silent, hoping he understood. He sat back on the couch and watched William eat. His mind was reeling and not much was making sense. He'd ask for some food too, but he wasn't really hungry. He was already underweight because he didn't eat very much. He'd grown up poor and was used to not asking for stuff unless he absolutely needed it.

After a while, he spoke up.

"So, William?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for taking care of me." Scott smiled softly.

"Oh? It's alright."

Walking up to him, Scott offered a hug. William cautiously accepted it, patting his back awkwardly. Scott's hug was warm, full of affection. William tried to show more affection by patting a little more intently, squeezing his lower back close to his sides. To his surprise, Scott made a strange noise, and pushed him away.

"Hm? Oh…" William smirked. "Come here, Scott."

Smiling nervously, Scott stood there wondering what he should do.

"Uh. Heh! W-why?" He said, already knowing.

And William pounced, wrapping his arms around his waist and tickling him all over. His quick fingers moved from his belly to his sides, up to his armpits, and back again.

"HAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAA! WILL! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!" He squirmed and flailed, but William followed his movements. "STAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHP!"

"I think you might be a little ticklish!"

"AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHAAA!! YOHHOHOOOHOUUUU DOHOOOOOHOOHOON'T SAHHAHAAHAHY!" Twisting around, Scott looked for an opening. William was scribbling everywhere he could, mainly focusing on his sides. "HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAHA!"

He knew Scott could catch his breath relatively easily, so William wasn't afraid of going all in.

"You know, your sides are very poke-able!"

Grabbing his wrists, Scott pushed him away and took a breather.

"Haha… Heehehe… S-so are yours!" He shot back, and dared to poke William back.

Flinching, William looked startled. He gulped and backed away when he saw him smirk. Unlike Scott, who was used to giving and receiving physical affection, William didn't get touched a lot, which probably made him more sensitive. Scott noticed and got a sly grin.

"They are not!" William snapped. He hoped it would discourage him.

Scott grinned, poking them with both hands. "Wanna bet?"

"HAHAHAAHAAAAAAHHHAHAHAAHAHAAHHH!!"

Since William wasn't used to this, he didn't have good breath control. He was uncertain where Scott would go next. Secretly he hoped Scott would continue, because he was curious as to how ticklish he really was.

"Okay, so you know what has to happen…" Scott said teasingly. He brushed his fingers along his sides once more, delicately, making him flinch. "We're going to have to make a deal…"

He scribbled William's thick hip.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAA!"

"That's right… You don't tell anyone about me, and I won't tell anyone about you." He winked. His tone was playful. "Got it?"

William just stood there and said nothing.

Scott grinned.

"Oh? Wait. Heh… Or maybe, you want this…?" He teased, tickling William's ribcage, delicately like a piano.

William screeched and wheezed.

"AHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAAAA! NOT THERE!! HAAHAAHAAHAAAA!!"

He pushed his hands away.

Scott seemed unaffected.

"Am I wrong??"

William huffed, blushing.

"You… you are wrong!"

"Oh really…?"

He scribbled William's neck, making him devolve into squeaks.

"EEEHEE!! HEEEHEHEHEEEEEHEE!"

William took a defensive stance as he caught his breath, holding Scott's wrists so he couldn't do this further. Seeing as he was taking longer to catch his breath, Scott sat down with William. William seemed upset, so he rested his hand on his shoulder and made sure he was alright. This was the wrong move, as William was ready. He grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back. Then he went for it.

"By the way?" William said, booping and scribbling Scott's sides once again, "Haha… You… You know that this isn't a secret?"

"EEHEHEHEHEHEEEHEHEE!" He squealed, thrashing and trying to get away. "STAHAP! WHAHAHAAHT'S NAHAHAAAAAT A SEHECRET!?"

"That you're ticklish." He grinned, as he tickled up and down his back and along his spine. "So basically you just promised me you wouldn't tell anyone I'm ticklish. I'm truly grateful!"

"HEHEHEEEHEHEEHEHEEHEEHEHEEE!"

Scott's face flushed more as he pulled away from William's grip.

"Hahahaaaahaha… hhohhohow dihihid you knohohow?"

Smirking, William recited the incident.

"Don't you remember? Your comrades tickled you at the company's Christmas party?"

He shook his head.

"Wheheheehn?"

"You came in with the drinks and they started poking you. You told them to cut it out, or you'd spill them! Your voice was strained and high pitched. They knew what they were doing!"

Scott huffed. He remembered being quite proud that he did not spill them. It was his grandma's eggnog recipe, home made.

"W-whatever." He held his sides protectively. The sight of him was quite adorable, a huffy, pink faced little nerd. (Well, only little compared to William.)

William smirked. "Anyway. I'm going to tell Henry you're alright."

He got up to leave, but just to show Scott he had more tricks, he scribbled his fingers along his back.

"EEHEHEEHHEHEHE!"

Scott jolted and shifted away from him, arms in a defensive stance. He pouted.

"Mehehean!"

"You know you like it."

To this, Scott had no words. He looked away and laughed awkwardly to try and lighten the mood.

William rolled his eyes and left the room, checking in with Henry. He told the man Scott was holding up alright.

Seeing that things were ok, Scott pushed himself up. He decided he'd slacked off enough today. Time to get back to work!

…Or so it would seem. Henry stood at the doorway and shook his head. He had a glass of water in his hand. Guiding Scott back to sit down, he made him drink from it.

"I think you're going to need more rest. You hit your head, remember?" He smiled a little through his stern tone. Scott did look better, but he didn't want Scott to push through his pain.

Scott hadn't remembered, but then his body did, pain shooting through his skull.

"Ugh…. Y-yeah…"

Henry had some pain meds in his hand, but Scott shook his head.

"I can't. I'm allergic."

Henry nodded, and gave him a warm cloth instead. Scott eventually relaxed and rested against Henry, who patted his back.

"Heh, thanks Henry. Maybe I needed this…" He muttered.

"Of course you did, Scott. Be kinder to your body and take your breaks when you need them."

Scott hummed softly, and given his body was already very tired, it took that as the green light to go to sleep. Henry smiled softly, and continued to stroke Scott's back, wanting him to rest easy.