#personal space please wilbur

[anartisticdreamer0]

wilbur please. cease.

[itslouisan]

Time to have C!Techno headcannons!!!

Heyo, seems like finally I reached my 2nd favorite cc ever! I think techno's character is REALLY interesting, with great writing and details and I can definitely add some hc of my own in there, so without further ado, let's go!

(btw @syndicatedsystem you might like some of my headcannons involving Jschlatt and Techno I talk about here so yeah! Also feel free to discuss em' with me or make asks abt it, hell your blog inspires me a lot)

(I lost the name of the artist if anyone knows please tell me)

• Techno has some braids in his hair, the longer, the more he values the person

Longest: Philza, it's braided with gold details

2nd longest: Ranboo, has a amethyst crystal for purple

Mid-term: Wilbur, he braided it in consideration of a battle friend and some good times with Will, he doesn't hate or likes Wilbur, but still can't deny they do have a connection

Shortest: Tommy.

• Techno prepared a space in the cabin for Tommy in case some day, his demons and the hell he was looking for, finally was found, he'd welcome Tommy with open arms, since he'd view that the kid suffered enough and had the time to change and face any consequences he'd need to face, the space is safe, always available, but, he'd never tell Tommy that, he keeps it hidden, he's not ready to be vulnerable to the demon child again and openly say Tommy could count on him, not until Tommy makes the first step.

• Keeps the pickaxe that blinded Quackity as a trophy, this and keeps all weapons from powerful enemies with him as a reminder of a great battle he won once again

• Likes to write poetry about people and events, he'd never give them to the person, but keep it in a dusty small box in his room in the attic of the cabin

• OKAY, LET'S ALL AGREE TECHNO IS ARO/ACE? GOOD.

• Techno was friends with Jschlatt before everything went to hell, they liked to talk about random bs while watching the fire crack at night and drink some cheap booze for Jschlatt and coffee for Techno

• I view Techno also having some boar traits, so yeah territorial as FUCK don't mess with his stuff or house, also he chases pray like crazy and can eat almost anything without a problem due to that

• Doesn't CARE for alcohol, just doesn't like the idea of having a hangover afterwards since he'd be unable to fight the next day

• Would gossip with Jschlatt, Tommy and the syndicate like, ABOUT EVERYTHING, I imagine him and Jschlatt favorite hobby is shit talking people they hate

• Techno being aro/ace also means if you flirt with him, he'll just stare at your soul and bully the shit out of you, sometimes calls Phil and/or Jschlatt to roast the shit out of the person, also WILL defend himself from any creeps and defend his friends from ANY strange people since for him touch is STRICTLY a death sentence and something that takes time

• Techno smokes when stressed or in the syndicate room, making Phil always carry an extra lighter for him just in case, the 2 used to be smoking buddies before Phil quit when he adopted Chayanne and Tallulah

• Techno in the QSMP is an entity, a god watching above everyone but never leaving Phil side and the eggs side, sometimes he'd talk to Tallulah directly, or influence Phil like a voice in his head to do the right thing in his vision or appear to Chayanne in his dreams to have a chat

• Can and will drink blood from the enemies

• Loves to talk about skulls and anatomy of the body in general, a dark fact, due to respect to Jschlatt, after he died (not considering revival, I view revival as either the decomposed body coming back to life in a LESS but STILL fucked up state or a kind of new body that is the users body in the afterlife coming to the alive realm, if you guys want, I can make a post about this) picked and kept Jschlatt sheep skull, with horns and everything

(art by sadist)

• Would talk about historical wars and battles with his own analysis and commentaries on it, making a great history teacher

• totally collects greek mythology stuff, books, items, anything.

• Has a couple of tattoos but one that is pretty badass is a wither skull with red smoke on his ribs in the right, a tattoo of a emerald in the inside of his left wrist, a tattoo of a squid with a fork on it's head in reference to the potato war on his right wrist really tiny and "everything starts with blood" and "the voices demand blood" written in his tights

• My boy 100% has piercings due to piglin culture, around 75% of them being made of gold

[discipleofywrath]

[Wilbur nods, and puts his arm around Duke's waist.]

I'm alright. Why are you asking?

@discipleofyrath (ooc: i love pet names i have been trying to think of a good in character-y one. and. doll. haha get it like wiggly-)

I just worry a lot.

[ax-y10]

Step Aside

In which- Wilburs excited to see the Front Bottoms play, but you aren't so thrilled to be crowded in.

A/n: I'm pretty sure I recall the front bottoms playing at shaky knees and I got a real quick idea.

Chapter info: slight panic attack, crowded place, swearing, unnoticed anxiety (brief)

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

---

Wilbur didn't notice your increasing nervousness of being in a crowded area, to excited to see the Front Bottoms playing live, jumping around with his bandmates. You were previously squished up against his side, but now you had your phone out ready to text him telling him you were going to the bathroom.

He didn't realise you were starting to walk off until Joe tapped on his shoulder and pointed towards your distancing figure.

"Will? Bud? Y/n is over there. Go see what's happening for us, yeah?" Joe pointed out.

He looked over and saw you turning a corner, and that's when he started to rush towards you.

"Excuse me, sorry. Please move-" he trailed off, finally reaching your form, stopped when you heard his all-too-familiar short breaths, noted from when he gets scared of worried.

"Darling?" He whispered loud enough to not scare you, but also to not alert other people attending the festival.

You held out your arms on either side so he could wrap his arms around you, and that he did. He held you tight but not too tight, and kissed the back of your head to calm you, feeling your rushing breaths.

"Sweet? Match my breathing for me, please?" He spoke frantically, your breathing becoming more sparse and stuttered.

In, one. Hold, two. Out, three. Hold, four.

Ultimately calming down, you twist in his loose hold and bury your face in his neck, your slow tears falling down his shoulder.

You've never been good with crowded spaces your entire life. People think it's irrational: "How stupid? How are you going to do normal things?" One person stated. "Fucking pussy. Get over yourself," A kid in your school stated. The bullying got worse as you kept speaking about it to your close friends, your so-called trustworthy friends shared the secret. Your family also didn't help. They put you in Summer camps, made you do the shopping each week, made you do many activities that required you to be social, supposedly trying to cure your fear. You somewhat got over your fear, but this festival just broke down that barrier.

You broke away from the hug and went to sit down against a border near the edge of the festival, a few people scattered around but not too many to overwhelm you, him following you like a lost puppy to sit with you.

"Wil, you can go back over to the band. I don't mind. I'll stay here." Bu the denied everything.

"I've let them know I'm over here so I'll stay with you just to make sure you're okay."

You smiled and looked over to Wilbur to watch him jump along and sing along. He doesn't like festivals that much, much like you, but you loved how he was enjoying it so much, and it made you fall harder with each song that passed.

Your favourite song started playing but it didn't register in your head as you were too busy looking at your boyfriend jamming to one of his favourite bands. Once he looked at you and smiled, bobbing his head to the music, a large smile plastered on his face, did you realise it was your favourite song.

You soon got over the almost panic attack, and started enjoying yourself a bit more, however you were still at Wilbur's side listening to the various songs playing.

But everything came to an end eventually and once everyone was collected (after being hunted down by Ash) and back in the van, did you finally sit down and fully relax. You'd changed into warm, over-sized clothes from your boyfriend and laid down next to him in his small bunk, scrolling through your messages, winding down for the night. Little did you know, he was watching your smile appear on your face everytime you read the words "I love you" in a message.

"Are you having a happy session at the moment, Love?" He snapped you out of your thoughts.

"...no" You said mischievously, being incredibly obvious as it was a lie.

He threw his arm across your waist, taking your phone and pushing it under his pillow along with his, and snuggled his face into your shoulder.

"Wil, you can't fall asleep before me," You joked, but he grumbled and pushed his face harder against your shoulder.

"Don't get all pouty, I'm sorry. you can go to sleep."

And you watched him fall asleep, listened to his sleepy noises, and felt him relax into your touch as he got increasingly tired, leading you into a deep sleep.

[divinemackerel]

Hey y’all, I’m making a quick post about sootbur/sootcest/bursonas just because I wanted to talk about it as a fandom, because people have a tendency to misjudge what it is and that often leads to hate and it can get really nasty.

First off, it is a character-centric* fandom. It mostly follows consistent characters put on by ccWilbur (though occasionally we do latch onto one off bits). These characters have no resemblance to their creator besides occasionally looks, but it is really popular in the fandom to alter their heights and looks and to further differentiate them and for fun. 

They are NOT ccWilbur unless specifically stated, and that distinction is important. To say they are him is like saying ccTommy and cTommy are the same person, or Ranboo in Genloss is the same person as ccRanboo.

They are characters put on by an actor, ccWilbur is not a murderer, a misogynist, or a zombie. (We hope.)

*There are people who include ccWilbur in their sootbur, of course, but I personally haven’t run into them in the tumblr sootbur fandom as it is bursona focused in ships. I think it would be unfair to paint this side of the fandom as rpf writers.

Second off, fandom is for the fans, acting like otherwise is a bit silly.

There is a need in the MCYT fandom (especially the DSMP side) to make sure everything is approved of by content creators, is “ok” with their boundaries. Sootbur is just for us though, how Wilbur feels about it really doesn’t matter as he will never really know about it unless you go and tell him.

Yes, he knows about the bursona side of the fandom and has interacted with it on twitter, but sootbur is, once again, for fans! It exists only in extremely small pockets in fan communities. Content creators do not and should not be heavily involved with these communities imo. This is common place in nearly every fandom.

Sootbur isn’t hurting anyone, it is just a silly set of ships. There’s no need to treat it like its somehow so much worse than DSMP ships like eretbur or fundbomb. Those ships also exist without “permission”.

Sure, maybe to you it inexplicably yucks your yums, but rather than jumping to the ship being the problem and harassing folks I implore you to consider why. Because the answer “just because its weird,” isn’t a good justification. 

This fandom is a community space, and on tumblr, is almost entirely sfw. It is not hurting anyone and is just a group of people being passionate about a specific creator’s/actor’s characters.

Thank you for reading. If you just don’t like the fandom regardless, please just leave us alone.

[tommys-cant-swim]

So, you want to get a tommy

Great! Tommys are wonderful creatures and full of personality. But there are things you should consider before getting them:

Tommys have a very long lifespan compared to dogs or cats- 35-40 years to be exact. A tommy is a big commitment and if you're on the older side you might even need to pass yours on to another family member.

Tommys are extremely energetic, overwhelmingly so. By the time I finish tiring out my tommys, I'm usually sweating and exhausted (love them though)

The most popular breed of tommy (dsmp or canon depending on who you ask) are significantly more prone to anxiety than other breeds. Please do not get one just because you've seen them online

Tommys have diets that may be upsetting to some people- they eat bugs and shellfish (and fruit), if you're upset by either, don't get one, please.

All that being said, here's a quick and dirty guide to getting your first tommy!

Choosing a tommy

There are lots of ways to choose a tommy, there's plenty of shelters to choose from and most house every kind of tommy. I recommend going in person and picking whichever you feel the closest to- but picking a specific breed is fine too! I'll leave a guide to the two breeds I know best (feel free to add info about other breeds)

DSMP/Canon - As previously stated, a very popular breed of tommy. They form strong bonds with owners and other pets and generally mix well with other popular mcyts such as tubbos and wilburs. However, they are easily startled and can be very messy due to being burrowers. They're also known to experience strong 'play aggression' and can accidentally injure others if they get too riled up.

Origin(s) - I know much less about this breed, but I still feel confident speaking on them as I have fostered origins tommys in the past. Origins tommys are much more mentally sound than dsmp breeds and do not have the major caveat of having to eat bugs as they are completely vegetarian! However, they do have minor flight abilities, which may be a turn-off for some owners.

Setting up your home for your tommy

Tommys need an outdoor area of at least 25 sq ft for digging and general enrichment. Tommys who are let outside unsupervised should be belled to prevent damage to the local ecosystem and the tommy themselves, as they have a bad habit of eating birds and squirrels, fur and bones, which they cannot digest.

All tommys need a small, private space to hide and rest in. A cardboard box will do just fine under most circumstances as long as it is large enough for your tommy to stretch out in to prevent claustrophobic anxiety (which dsmp tommys are especially prone to).

Lastly, tommys need chew toys. Chewing is their main way of relieving stress and expressing joy and not having a consistent outlet for it is extremely upsetting for them.

Additional advice

Tommys cannot swim and should not be let near bodies of water deeper than knee-height.

Dsmp tommys are terrified of heights and should not be placed on counters or tables.

Tommy's Can be picked up by the scruff

My other guides:

Caring for tommys with anxiety Tommy mouthing Introducing two tommys (this can really be applied to introducing a tommy to any pet)

[wil-dearest]

Anonymous asked: dub. con. PLEASE!! (bonus points if it’s older!experienced!stepbrother willbur corrupting younger!virgim!innocent afab reader by using gaslighting hehe)

so i didn't do the step-brother and its dubcon if you squint. thought about it all day and i fucked up. anyways, hope this is somewhat enjoyable.

trigger warning: 18+. dubcon because you can't consent while drunk. sex. afab reader tho, so i got that right. sort of.

i, wil-dearest, present you my first- kinda, sorta, fic.

Want Me Sober, Please (Forgive Me)

Sure, you were close friends and he was so, so pretty, you couldn't help the way you leaned into him. It was a party and you didn't know anybody else after he begged you to go with him, just this once, he didn't want to be alone. (He wasn't that big of a party person so, you were confused. But you were nothing if you weren't supportive of him.)

The drinks became a little much for him, and after spilling some on his shirt, you laugh with him as you guide him to a spare bedroom, trying to keep him from stripping naked in the middle of some stranger's hallway. The second the door is closed and his shirt is off, he can't keep his eyes off of you and you try to find another shirt, letting him hold onto the water bottle you gave him. You're about to give up on a shirt for him when you feel his arms slide around your waist, tucking you into his chest as warm breaths ghost over your skin, leaving a wet, shiny trail when his tongue laps at your neck.

"Wilbur, what the fuck," you say, shivering, holding onto his arms as your wide eyes stare in front of you, you're not- not into it but he's fucking. He's fucking drunk and you try to voice it, trying to be the somewhat responsible, sober person that you were.

"Like you so much..." he says in that soft tone of his, right in your ear and you can only shiver, accidentally leaning into his embrace as his arms squeeze more around you, "can never say whats on my mind around you."

"Wilbur, you- do this when you're sober, I promise it'll-" but he doesn't listen completely, whining in your ear as he grinds against your ass. "You're drunk." You say firmly, tugging on his arms.

"You're so w-warm," he mumbles, finally stilling around you, "why don't you ever touch me?" He asks and lets go, and you can only grip the dresser, digging your nails into the wood as you listen to him struggle to sit on the bed again. You turn around, with a shirt, the ugliest one you could find, and you hand it to him, not looking him in the eye as he holds it, thumbing the fabric between his digits.

"Will you kiss me when I'm sober?" You hate yourself for nodding, it wasn't a lie but it gives him hope now. "Why won't you kiss me- now?" He hiccups and you click your tongue against your teeth, helping him with the shirt and when his arms comes down and his head is bowed down, you can't help sighing when he leans his head against your stomach. Your hands reach into his hair, combing through the tangled pieces before his hands came up, sliding underneath your shirt just to barely touch your hips. It burns where he digs his fingers and you are only so strong as a person, that when a pretty person begs you for something you can only hold out so long. You swallow the guilt and tilt his head back, making eye contact with those dark brown eyes that trace of every feature on your face.

"What do you want, Wil? What is it that you can't wait till you're sober?" You ask and he doesn't answer, using one hand to cup the back of your neck and press his face to yours. The touch shocks you, his lips moving sloppily against yours but you can't help but lean into his space, kissing him back and swallowing his half-whines and chest-deep moans.

"You- I want you. Forever." He says against your mouth, his teeth catching onto your chapped lips and you have to cry, damned pretty boys.

"Have me later." He doesn't respond before kissing you harder, tugging on your clothes. You don't want to stop but you don't want to be a regret, you don't want this to be a memory he hates. And when he sinks his cock inside of you, holding you close to his chest and kissing you and kissing you and rocking his hips and pulling those moans straight from your head, you can't help but hope this wasn't a drunk mistake. That he does like you and that he does want you, forever. Because you don't think you could just have him the once. You hope he'll forgive you when you kiss him again, when you start riding him and pressing him into the bed and getting him to leave bruises on your skin, when he leaves a trail of hickeys from your neck and down your collarbone and your chest. You never want to forget the way his touch is ingrained into your psyche, to your marrow.

When he comes into you and looks at you with those half-lidded eyes and yanked hair everywhere, you wish you had a camera. You want him forever too. "One more time?" He asks and you huff, barely catching your breath as you lean one hand on his chest.

"Go to bed." You say, kissing him one last time. Adjusting yourself so you lean onto your side, beside him. His arms tugging you into his chest as you fall asleep is a dream, waking up alone is a nightmare.

Sitting in that messy bed, and rushing up to go pee, only to realize he's nowhere to be found is an awful way to feel like you fucked up your friendship. He was also your ride. Fuck.

[modelbus]

hi hi, i saw your page and your writing and the fact that your request is open and like i really need comfort right now so i decided to slide in,, can you write Wilbur x gender neutral reader who is struggling with their emotion and their memories? like they suddenly want to cry when they see sth that remind them of their (mildly?) toxic ex or they just feel like they're someone else all of the sudden, hope this is not too much to ask for jadhjad

Of course! I'm quite a bit late with the comfort, but it's here now <3

This is a sensitive topic, and if I’ve written this poorly please tell me! I’m always willing to listen, learn, and fix things!

Pairing: CC!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

Toxic Tulips

It feels stupid. One second you were joking around with Wilbur while preparing to make popcorn, the next you were frozen.

He had tulips on his counter. Just three in a vase, light pink, but the sight of them sent a wave of emotion tumbling through you. Immediately tears pricked at your eyes, pressure building quickly. It felt like you had swallowed something too large, such was the lump in your throat.

Your ex used to buy you tulips after fights. What started as a whole bouquet eventually dwindled to one, then nothing, but tulips were forever tainted in your mind. A sickening reminder of the past you could never forget.

Just for a moment, you’re someone else. Someone who was quieter, more afraid. With your heart in your throat, you stumble back a few steps. Anything to escape the memories, the feelings, that just seeing those goddamn tulips are dredging up.

You stumble right into a solid chest and nearly jump out of your own skin in fright.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Wilbur asks, concern coating every word. “I called your name like three times.”

Wilbur, just Wilbur.

“I’m- sorry, I-“

“No, don’t apologize, it’s okay.” He gently turns you around to face him, but all it takes is one look at your teary eyes to have him searching for what made you so emotional. “What happened?”

You feel so stupid. Who cries at the sight of a few tulips? How fucked up were you that a fucking flower made you think back to an entirely different guy?

“Nothing.” You murmur, avoiding looking directly at him.

“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you. I only want to help you, love.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

He’s not going to give this up, and you know it. Wilbur’s always stuck by you, through thick and thin. You’ve done the exact same for him.

“I saw something that reminded me of… him. That’s all.” Even now—especially now—you can't bring yourself to say his name.

Wilbur immediately clenches his jaw, knowing exactly who you’re talking about. After all, he was the one to help you escape from the hell hole you found yourself in with your ex.

“What was it?” He drops his hands from your shoulders, striding past you. “The magazines?” In one motion, he sweeps them into the trash can. You’re too stunned to speak.

“Was it the magazines? Honestly, I have no clue where they came from.” His words have a careful lightness to them, one that reassures you Wilbur is safe.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Okay.” He casts his gaze around the space again. “The tulips?”

Hoarsely, you confirm, “Yeah.”

With no hesitation he grabs the entire vase and dumps it out the window.

“Wil!” You exclaim, pure shock overriding every emotion in you.

“What? I didn’t throw the vase out there. Just the water and flowers.” He places the vase gently in his sink before returning to you. “Better?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs, but his eyes convey a different emotion. “He’s gone, for good. You will never go back to him, and you’re never going to be that person again. I promise.”

How he knew exactly what to say, you have no idea. But his words help, extra assurance you’re safe.

“Thank you.” And you mean it for so much more than throwing tulips out a window.

“I’m always here for you. Always.”

You smile, wiping your eyes in case any tears escaped. “I know, Wil.”

“Just making sure. What do you say we buy flowers to replace those ones? Like a Venus flytrap or something.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t sell those at the flower shops?”

“There go my plans of world domination.” He shrugs, grinning back at you. “Let’s go see what flowers they do have.”

He ushers you to his computer, forcing you to sit down as he leans over to navigate to the store website.

“How about these?” He points at a stupid looking flower, waiting for your reaction.

“Out of all the flowers you pick that?”

“Fine, fine, what about that one?”

He keeps picking out stupider flowers, and it’s not until you’re laughing harder than you can breathe at a flower he called “the horsefly of the flower world” that you realize what he’s doing.

By making you laugh at something so stupid, he’s pulled you back into yourself. He’s stopped you from going down the slippery slope of thinking about your ex.

“So?” He asks.

“Let’s get it. The horsefly of the plant world.”

“It’ll look perfect!”

[solar-care]

(In this moment, you are loved. You are loved.)

SIFFRIN/REWIND ⭐ SHE/HER ⭐ 17 Y/O

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Request Types I'll Do: Stimboards, Moodboards, Simple Doodles, Timeline Questions, Care Kits (from Etsy), Pfps/Banners + Themes, Names + Pronouns, and anything else you might need!

Will do requests from any media (for fictionkins) and requests for any theriotype (for therians)! <3

Open for any Kins, IRLs, and Fictives/Introjects!

Thank you so much for being here, friend!

Anons List ⭐

🌈🐾 anon, 🕸️ anon

PFP Credit

BYI + DNI under the cut!

BYI ⭐

I may be slow with requests, please be patient with me!

I try my best to make this a safe space for everyone, but if I do something to make you uncomfortable, please let me know! I'd love for this to be a safe space for you, too!

Although my blog is themed around In Stars and Time, it is not exclusive to this media! Anyone from any media/source is free to request! <3

I'll tag things with kin tags unless you specifically mention being an IRL or a fictive. If you don't want kin tags, please specify!

More TBA?

DNI ⭐

Factkins, Non-Traumagenic systems

Anti-kin (why are you even here?)

Proshippers

Bigotted in any sort of way

Pro-Israel

cc!Wilbur supporters

More TBA?

Overall, if you're just a kind and respectful person, I'm sure you'll have a lovely time here! Thank you so much!

[missholloween]

Trick-or-treat!

This fic is from April, and it's called "One mind, one voice, one flesh one end". It's the only think I've written for the tlt au, although this one was more Hatchetfiled focused @samuelandthesun, co-writer of the fic, hadn't read nona yet, so there were things I couldn't talk about when planning the au (no permeability of the soul sadly).

If I recall correctly, macnacross was second house, holloweane was fifth, lautski was third and holy ghost eight. Lexthan was out of this because Lex and Hannah were in a non-house planet. I would do things differently though, but this is still a solid idea.

Spoilers for Gideon the Ninth. TW for major character death and description of injuries

(also thanks again to mai for translating the first paragraph <3)

For their bones, for the decomposed flesh hanging from their predecessors’ bodies, she was not going to do what Canaan House’s bizarre mystery was showing her. She could mutilate her body, her soul, and even her fellow Houses’ ones. But she would not consent to killing her cavallier. If being a Lyctor meant giving up the only good thing left in this world, Miss Holloway refused to go through that.

“Holloway, what’s wrong? Have you figured it out? Do you know how to ascend?” Duke’s face was so full of hope it hurt her.

Holloway looked at him and smiles as she had done many other times. Duke knew when something was wrong, but he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of whatever it was.

“We’re closer, yes, but I think I’ll need another lab more. I think the Sixth one is still–“

An explosion cut their words. Duke drew his rapier and stood between Holloway and the figure that was now in the door’s frame. Their gloomy hair was as greasy as it always was, now decorated with blood. With their cavalier’s blood.

“Duke, boy, don’t be like that. Is that how you greet a friend?”

Wilbur Cross, the necromancer of the Second House, was not the same person they had met before. Their eyes had become an unnatural blue, and they held their rapier with a dexterity they shouldn’t have. For a moment, Holloway saw the end of their hair turned blonde, although they quickly faded. Wherever MacNamara was, it wasn’t a better place.

“So, you’ve discovered it too” Holloway said, looking coldly at the person who had been able to do that to their cavalier.

“Please, John was begging on his knees for me to absorb him. He will now be a part of me forever.” Wilbur smiled cruely, did an eerie twirl, raised their sword and pointed to Holloway’s neck. Holloway raised a bone wall to stop him, but they cut through it effortlessly- Holloway barely escaped from it.

“Miss Holloway, whatever they have done, Wilbur is a lyctor already… So do the same!” Duke shouted, going towards Wilbur. “Or we won’t be able to stop them!”

Miss Holloway wasn’t willing to do it. There had to be another way to stop him. Is that what the Lord in Black had preached through the galaxy? Was that the reason they had been sent to that house? The saints couldn’t be built through blood. Their history wasn’t made of blood.

But there was no time to think. Wilbur danced between their rapier and their necromancing, attacking the couple from both sides and preventing them to move. Duke could follow the rhythm, but Holloway knew he could not last forever: thanergy was flooding through the newly created lyctor, and Holloway knew they weren’t even trying.

“Why are you playing, Holly? Don’t you think I should see your maximum potential?” Wilbur laughed maniacally just to, some seconds later, return to the perfect stand that had belonged to their partner.

Suddenly, their eyes glew.

“Oh, I get it now.” Wilbur stopped their sword, and let Duke take the lead. “I’m sorry, boy. Believe me, it’s nothing personal.”

Wilbur’s “slip” had not been anything but a trap. When Duke crossed Wilbur’s space, a bone coming from the lyctor cut through Duke’s ribcages. It didn’t take long to expand, damaging the cavalier’s intestines and lungs.

“Duke!” Holloway could barely speak through her tears. “Don’t leave. D-don’t…”

“You know what has to be done, Holly. I can help you, if you’d like.”

Wilbur held out their hand, but Holloway didn’t take it. Her hands were already inside Duke.

[asingulardoorknob]

q!tntduo- claustrophobia

Tallulah didn’t like small spaces. Everyone on the island knew that.

So, that’s what El Quackity took advantage of when The Federation ordered him to teach Wilbur a lesson. 

“Tallulah!” El Quackity exclaimed as he stepped through the gate and into Tallulah’s garden. “I have a surprise for you.” The small girl’s face lit up, and she ran towards El Quackity. She seemed to be a sweet girl, but El Quackity had no sympathy for her- he couldn’t afford to have sympathy for anyone- as he knew The Federation would just take advantage of it. Just like he was about to do to Wilbur. El Quackity shook his head in an effort to clear any semblance of guilt from his mind, and turned his attention back to Tallulah, who was now directly in front of him, her small ringed notepad held out towards him.

-Mr. Smiley Guy!- it read, in large cheerful letters. Right. That’s what Tallulah had called the original Quackity. El Quackity forced a small smile to his lips.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said again. The girl’s smile grew even wider, and she reached up to hold El Quackity’s hand.

She trusted him. No hesitation at all. El Quackity’s heart constricted slightly, but he did his best to ignore it. 

“It’s just in here,” he said, gesturing towards the small shed that Wilbur had built next to Tallulah’s garden in order to store her tools and extra seeds. That earned him a confused glance from Tallulah, but still not so much as a glimmer of distrust in her expression. It was endearing, but dangerous. She would never survive on her own with so much willingness to trust others. 

El Quackity pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked the shed door, and gestured for Tallulah to head inside.

“It’s just through there,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. An expression of unease flashed across Tallulah’s face, but still, she stepped into the cramped shed. She glanced around expectantly for a few seconds before turning back to face El Quackity, her confusion evident in her expression.

“Sorry,” El Quackity said with a slight shrug. “I lied.” 

With a grunt, he slammed the door shut in her face and shoved the key into the lock, snapping it at the shoulder to prevent the door from being opened from the inside. El Quackity chuckled as Tallulah pounded uselessly against the door. It was cruel, but if it made Wilbur obedient to The Federation, it had to be done. 

A choked sob echoed from the other side of the door as the pounding slowed. Poor girl. She gave up so easily- a shame, really. Too sweet for her own good. A soft rustling caught El Quackity’s attention, and he glanced down to see a small piece of paper being slid under the door. He bent down and picked it up, noting how it was slightly damp- presumably from Tallulah’s tears. Carefully, he unfolded it, and read the note written in shaky purple crayon.

-Mr. Quackity, I think you accidentally closed the door on me. Can you let me out?-

Accidentally. Even in this circumstance, Tallulah was still trying to look for the best in him.

-I don’t like small spaces. Papi says it’s called claustrophobia. Please let me out, I’m scared.-

El Quackity’s heart constricted slightly in his chest. He couldn’t afford to feel any type of guilt. The Federation would do god-knows-what to him if he failed this mission.

“Listen,” El Quackity said. “This isn’t personal, kid.” Tallulah sucked in a short panicked breath from the other side of the door. “I’m sorry.” El Quackity crumpled the letter up and dropped it down into the long grass. Wilbur would get the message. He’d never go against The Federation again, and El Quackity would never have to get near Tallulah again. He didn’t like how she got to him. How he’d had to fight back his emotions several times in the few minutes he’d spent with her. She was his weak spot, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. He just knew he wanted nothing to do with her. 

With a sigh, El Quackity walked away from the shed, Tallulah’s muffled sobs growing more distant as he did so. 

“Don’t fight this, Wilbur,” he muttered to himself as he dropped a small playing card with The Federation logo on it into Wilbur’s mailbox.

The brunette would get the message. He had to.

Otherwise, The Federation would ask El Quackity to do something much more drastic, something El Quackity wasn’t sure he’d be able to do.

~

El Quackity couldn’t concentrate. No matter what he did to distract himself, his mind wandered back to Tallulah, trapped inside that tiny shed all alone. He felt sick. His entire body felt tense, and he was jumping at every little noise. It was awful. He felt like shit.

Lost in thought, El Quackity wandered through the forest, occasionally stopping to pick up a rock or inspect one of the security cameras that The Federation had planted throughout the island. He went wherever his feet took him, not putting too much thought into which direction he walked. Eventually, he found himself standing outside the fence that surrounded Wilbur and Tallulah’s property. His eyes immediately landed on the small shed only a few metres from where he stood. 

Tallulah. Was she still in there? 

It had only been an hour since he’d locked her in. Had Wilbur come back yet? 

Carefully, he climbed over the fence and moved closer to the shed. A muffled sob from inside immediately answered all his questions. Tallulah was still stuck inside. El Quackity’s stomach twisted as guilt squeezed his heart. 

The Federation would kill him if he failed this mission- he had no doubt about that. 

But, Tallulah. Innocent, sweet Tallulah. She had nothing to do with this. She didn’t deserve to have her worst fears taken advantage of. It wasn’t fair. 

El Quackity gritted his teeth. He had to leave. He couldn’t afford to be caught here. Wilbur could return at any time. Another sob echoed from the shed, halting El Quackity in his tracks. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just leave her there. Not again.

Fuck whatever The Federation would do to him. That innocent girl in there didn’t deserve to suffer like this. El Quackity rushed towards the shed and grasped the lock in his hand.

“Tallulah?” he asked, as softly as he could. The girl’s muffled sobs abruptly stopped, as if someone had covered her mouth. “Are you okay in there?” He paused, waiting for her to slip a note under the door like last time, but no answer ever came. 

“Tallulah, I’ve come to get you out of there, sweetheart,” El Quackity tried as he carefully examined the lock. “I’m sorry I locked you in there- it was-.”

“You did what?”

~

El Quackity jumped at the loud voice behind him. He hadn’t heard Wilbur approach.

“Wilbur-.” The brunette’s expression was set in a stony glare.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Quackity,” he seethed. El Quackity flinched. He’d never seen Wilbur so angry before; not even when he’d been watching him on The Federation’s cameras. Wilbur was a calm person. He didn’t let his emotions get to him like this.

“Quackity, give me the fucking lock.” El Quackity’s eyes widened, and he quickly sidestepped out of the way as Wilbur ripped the lock from his hands.

“Tallulah?” Wilbur asked, his voice shockingly soft. “Honey, it’s Papa. I’m gonna get you out of there, okay? I know you’re scared, but you’re doing so well. It’s almost over.” El Quackity’s heart clenched slightly at the care that Wilbur held for his daughter. It reminded him of the way he’d watched the original Quackity care for Tilin- yet somehow this was ten times magnified. 

El Quackity watched as Wilbur yanked on the padlock, somehow snapping the shackle  cleanly in half and allowing the hatch attached to the door to swing open. 

“Tallulah, mi niña. It’s okay; I’m here,” Wilbur said, tearing open the door, his eyes widening as the sunlight fell on Tallulah’s small shaking form. It was even worse when she looked up, blinking against the bright light, her eyes rimmed red from crying and tear streaks running down her cheeks. 

“Tallulah!” Wilbur exclaimed as he rushed forward, falling to his knees onto the hard wooden floor of the shed. The small girl reached out for him, grasping at the soft fabric of his yellow sweater once he was within arm’s reach. 

“It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe,” Wilbur muttered over and over again, as he carefully scooped Tallulah up into his arms, cradling her against his chest, and using one hand to comb through the unruly brown hair that stuck out from under her beanie. The same hair that poked out from under Wilbur’s own beanie. El Quackity couldn’t help but notice the uncanny similarities between Tallulah and Wilbur. She really did look a lot like her father- just like the original Quackity had always said. 

El Quackity shook his head. Why was he still here? Wilbur was back, and El Quackity had delivered The Federation’s message- though not exactly in the way he’d intended to. He needed to go. He glanced back towards the pair, where Tallulah now had her notepad in hand, scribbling out what El Quackity assumed to be an abbreviated version of the events leading up to now. Wilbur kept glancing back and forth between Tallulah’s shaky writing and El Quackity, his expression shifting from bewilderment to anger to some other emotion that El Quackity couldn’t quite put a name to. All he knew was that he really didn’t want to be around once Wilbur had finally been told the whole story. 

With one last glance towards the pair,  El Quackity turned his back to them, and took a step towards the gate.

“Tallulah, darling,” Wilbur said firmly, the tone of his voice stopping El Quackity in his tracks. “Can you go inside for a moment? I’ll meet you there- I just need to have a word with Mr. Quackity first, okay?” El Quackity slowly turned back to face Wilbur, as Tallulah ran past him toward the house that Wilbur had built for her all those months ago. Once the small girl was out of earshot, Wilbur’s soft smile quickly dropped from his face.

“Quackity,” Wilbur started, his voice shaking with anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” El Quackity’s jaw clenched subconsciously. What would the original Quackity have said in this situation? He couldn’t let Wilbur catch onto The Federation’s bigger plan.

“It was just a joke,” he said, with what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. Wilbur bristled.

“A joke? You thought that was funny? Quackity, you know she’s claustrophobic!” El Quackity winced.

“It was a bad joke,” he said hesitantly. Wilbur stepped forward.

“No shit. What has been up with you lately? You’ve been a complete asshole,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, as he reached out to touch El Quackity’s cheek.

Of course, Wilbur would be the one to notice that something was off. 

“Sorry,” El Quackity said, stepping backwards and out of Wilbur’s reach. “I guess I’m just still upset about Tilin.” Wilbur’s expression slowly shifted from anger to something El Quackity couldn’t quite read..

“Really?” he asked distractedly, his fingers curling back into a loose fist at El Quackity’s reaction to his touch. Shit. Wilbur knew something was up. El Quackity needed to go- now. “Quackity, do you remember, just before I left for tour, when we had that picnic, and I told you that you could tell me anything?” Wilbur asked suddenly, his eyes still darting back and forth across El Quackity’s face, as if searching for something in his expression.

“Of course,” El Quackity lied. He didn’t remember a picnic in the hours of security footage that The Federation had made him watch- but if Wilbur was mentioning it, it must have been important. “And, I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about anything right now.” Wilbur’s eyes widened, and in one fluid motion, he sent El Quackity crashing backwards into the wall of the shed. 

“We never had a picnic before I left for tour.” 

Fuck. El Quackity let out a hiss of pain as Wilbur bundled his fist in the fabric of El Quackity’s jacket and pulled him slightly forwards. 

 “Who the fuck are you, and where is my Quackity?”

~

El Quackity’s heart sank. Of course, Wilbur knew. Why wouldn’t he? He was the only person on the server who knew the original Quackity well enough to notice a slight change in personality. 

“Wilbur?” he whispered, contorting his face into what he hoped was a convincing enough expression of pure confusion. “What are you talking about?” The brunette shook his head, clearly unsatisfied with El Quackity’s performance.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he hissed. El Quackity was taken aback by the venom in his voice, and decided to shift to a different strategy. Everything wasn’t lost yet. He could still save this.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” El Quackity spat, attempting to push Wilbur off of him. “What do you mean ‘your Quackity?’ I am Quackity! Who else could I possibly be?” Wilbur barred his teeth. 

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?” His grip was surprisingly strong; no matter how much El Quackity struggled, he couldn’t seem to push him off. 

Fuck.

El Quackity was stuck. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he could potentially blow The Federation’s entire operation. He had to save this somehow. He had to pin it on someone else. Someone like the original Quackity. 

Wilbur obviously knew something was off- just not what exactly. El Quackity could use that to his advantage. He could pretend that he was still the original Quackity- just under some sort of mind control.

“The Federation sends their regards,” El Quackity said after a moment, hoping the statement would be enough to catch Wilbur off-guard. The brunette’s eyes widened, and his grip on El Quackity’s jacket loosened slightly.

“The Federation?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “What the fuck do you mean?” El Quackity forced an emotionless look to his face as he mechanically pushed forwards, trying to wriggle out of Wilbur’s grip.

“That’s classified.” A muscle in Wilbur’s jaw twitched, and his entire expression seemed to harden. 

“Fine,” Wilbur said coldly, curling his fists into El Quackity’s jacket once more, as he shoved him back against the wall. “You don’t want to tell me? That’s fine.” El Quackity had never seen the brunette so angry before. Not even when the original Quackity had vandalized the home that Wilbur had built for Tallulah. This was a whole new Wilbur standing before him.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who are you, and where is my Quackity?” El Quackity forced himself to remain expressionless. He couldn’t afford to give the brunette even so much as a hint that he wasn’t the original Quackity.

“I am Quackity,” he said, slowly reaching up to grasp the small circular locket that hung from his neck. “Just not your Quackity anymore.” An emotion El Quackity couldn’t quite identify flashed across Wilbur’s face as his eyes settled on the locket.

“Open it,” the brunette commanded, his voice filled with emotion. El Quackity did as he was told, opening the locket to reveal a close-up photo of Wilbur’s smiling face. The original Quackity had carried it with him everywhere he went, and El Quackity knew Wilbur had an identical one somewhere with Quackity’s picture in it. The matching lockets were obviously important to the pair, so El Quackity had made sure to swipe it off the original Quackity when The Federation had taken him.

“Quackity,” Wilbur said, his voice barely above a whisper. “What did they do to you?” He sounded broken. It was awful.

“They opened my eyes,” El Quackity responded simply, fighting to keep his face as expressionless as possible. Wilbur glanced up, his warm brown eyes a startling mix of anger and sadness.

“What could they have possibly said to make you do this?” he asked, relinquishing his grip on El Quackity’s jacket to gesture at the shed. 

This was it. Wilbur was believing it. El Quackity just had to stick the landing, and get away from the scene of the crime.

“You were gone so long, Wilbur,” El Quackity said, letting a little bit of bitter resentment leak into his tone. “You abandoned me- just like everyone else did.” Of course, the resentment he felt wasn’t towards Wilbur- but it worked well enough to add that extra degree of authenticity to his story.

“Quackity-.”

“No.”

“I’m here now!” Wilbur yelled, his voice cracking slightly.

“That’s not good enough, Wilbur!” El Quackity yelled back, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion that The Federation had forced him to keep bottled up. “You weren’t there when I needed you!”

“And The Federation was?” Wilbur challenged, his eyes dancing across El Quackity’s expression. 

“Yes.” El Quackity forced his face into a cold, neutral expression. Eventually, Wilbur looked away, disappointed when he didn’t find whatever it was he had been searching for in El Quackity’s features. Perfect. He had Wilbur right where he needed him.

“You know what?” El Quackity said, raising his hand back up to the locket. “I’m done with you. “

“What?” Wilbur’s face paled slightly. “Quackity, what are you talking about?”

“Whatever was between us- whatever you thought we had- it’s over. I’m done. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

“I was on tour overseas-.”

“I asked you to stay. You didn’t listen.”

“I had obligations, Quackity! I couldn’t just drop everything for you!” El Quackity nodded, and in one fluid motion, ripped the locket from his neck.

“And that’s the problem, Wilbur.” He dropped the locket into Wilbur’s outstretched hand. “I’m done.” 

“Quackity!” Wilbur yelled out as El Quackity turned his back on the brunette. “Wait!” 

Almost there. Just a few more steps to the waypoint, and El Quackity would be gone.

“Quackity!” El Quackity winced at the pure pain that filled Wilbur’s voice. “Quackity!”

Five more steps.

“Quackity, please!”

He opened the door to the small room that Wilbur had built around the waypoint. Three steps.

“Quackity!” El Quackity’s heart felt heavy in his chest. Guilt. He was feeling guilty again. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The door slammed shut and Wilbur’s voice grew muffled.

One step.

“Quackity, please! Can we just talk about this?” El Quackity met Wilbur’s red-rimmed eyes through the small window on the door. He forced the corners of his lips upward into a small smile.

“This is for your own good, Wilbur,” then, as an afterthought, he added, “I’m sorry.”

[wilbyscoot]

Hello. I'm sure you've noticed that I haven't been active in quite some time. Or, well, if you haven't, now you have. Sorry that I am only now returning and only to tell you that I will be “leaving” permanently.

I'm only here now to address something. Yes, it's regarding the situation with Wilbur Soot. I don't want to go into too much detail about it. If you know, you know. If you don't, sorry you had to find out this way. All I can say is, I'm no longer comfortable when it comes to things relating to him.

I wanted to come back to this blog, even coming up with an idea to write a fic for my return. I've really missed talking to my friends and my mutuals, you're all amazing and wonderful. But I've found that I don't really want to go back here, at least not in this blog. And now, with the terrible news about Wilbur, I'm starting to lean even more to the idea of not coming back here.

I've read and seen the things people are saying about him with my mutuals and people I followed. People are slowly leaving or taking a break from their blogs. It hurts seeing my friends get attacked for it and it hurts even more knowing that they're having a terrible time over this. This is meant to be a safe space.

And before you say anything or start attacking me in asks, in no way am I saying that the things people said about Wilbur are true. We do not know the identity of the person Shelby was talking about and we can't be sure until she's confirmed it herself, which she has every right not to if she could. Even so, I still want to be safe.

Wilbur had been a huge inspiration for me. He brought me comfort and joy, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have made so many friends that I could share an interest with. But with everything that's been going on, whether it is true or not, I do not feel comfortable being associated with him anymore and this blog was created based on him, which makes me feel uncomfortable going back to.

I haven't been here for a long time so I can't say I've seen everything. But I just wanted to quickly say this before things take a worse turn. Plus, I've slowly grown out of my interest for Wilbur Soot (if you haven't already noticed by the huge lack of content last year).

So, I've decided. I'm going to start over. I've made a new blog that I've been running for a while (well, there's not really anything there yet) and I've been thinking of moving there permanently. Yes, it is the blog I was talking about in my introduction. Though, it's not just going to be a writing blog now, it's going to be filled with a bunch of other stuff.

The new blog is completely different. You will see a new side of me you haven't before. More fandoms, more content, more media and franchises. And less of MCYT. For the sake of myself and everyone's comfort, I won't be sharing my blog with you all right now. I'm only going to share them with SOME of my friends and mutuals. Maybe if I'm a little more comfortable with opening it up to all of you one day, I'll come back to announce it. Or maybe you'll end up finding it on your own. Who knows. Either way, if you ever find my new blog, please don't mention anything from this one. I would like to keep them totally separate.

I won't be deleting anything from here. I'm keeping it as an archive. I won't do anything to this blog other than state that I will no longer use it. Maybe I'll come back here one day just to completely change everything, but that is not a plan of mine right now.

If you specifically want to keep in touch, let me know! (I don't mind if you still create content with Wilbur, that's not a big deal for me) My DMs are open right now but they won't be for long. Keep in mind, I might not accept everyone (especially if you are a minor, I will decide very carefully about this). While my blog will still be SFW for the most of it, I can't promise that it will always stay that way in the future. Please practice viewer's discretion. I also have a Discord! This is only open for my friends and mutuals (sorry!!), but I might accept friends of friends!

I think that's all I really want to say. If I have more to add, I will. If you have any questions, send me an ask or DM me! Again, I might or might not leave this blog for good sooner than expected. If you're seeing me for the first time and you want to follow me in my new blog, feel free to as well! This is not just for my old friends and followers. I'd love to see new faces!

That's all I want to say. Thank you so much for the wonderful memories and the laughs. You are all wonderful and I will not forget you. I hope we may cross paths again in the future.

Lots of love,

Alex

[spookyangeladdams]

haiii!! ❤️🦇

welcome to my blog, spookyangeladdams!!🦇

i’ve finally got round to making (at least a filler version) intro post!!!

my name is angel or angelina, i’m 23 & from london, my little age is 1-8 and im queer and genderfluid! i use any pronouns but mostly prefer they/them so you cant go wrong with them!! 👻

i am autistic/adhd/t1d/hypermobile and a multitude of other conditions but i won’t list them all haha!! kinda tldr: i am disabled/chronically ill 🫶🥀

i luv:

house md

the addams family

the umbrella academy

the orville

good omens

macabre / spooky stuff

sharks

the ocean

halloween

elementary cbs

criminal minds

nature

rainbows

gaming

modelling with clay

baking

makeup

cars

asmr

edm

music in general

theatre and theatre tech

game theory & co

chuckle sandwich

the sturnilos

james marriott

tommyinnit

jack manifold

aimsey

billzo

ranboo

tubbo

shelbygraces

caitiibugzz

renee rapp

kallmekris

willne

eddy burback

~

mood boards!!

specifically dni, aside from the standard dni: no k-nk/agepl-y/abdl/ddlg etc/transphobes/queerphobes/fatphobes/anti agere/tories/ed/sh/wilbur, dream, or george supporters/m@ps/p-dos/no trauma dumping/ transmeds/anti endogenic systems/anti systems in general/anti blm/israel supporters/russia supporters/ anti science/the list goes on, use common sense!! 🙏🎃

mdndm = minors don’t dm me! i don’t mind minors interacting but i am an adult, even in little space. please look after yourself online!! also i dont use tumblr dms anyway🪦

i am not a regular poster but i love putting together mood boards that directly relate to my little space, i won’t take requests because if i don’t personally understand it i might misrepresent it and i don’t want to do that to anyone else’s safe space!!! i also don’t have the energy or time!!

any pics/gifs/videos etc that i post or reblog are not mine unless i explicitly say so, i get most of my images from pinterest which dont have sources 99% of the time ☹️

okay, have a great day and remember your little space is valid and a safe space, it’s a coping mechanism and supported by licensed professionals around the world, whether it’s voluntary or involuntary for you!!! everyone experiences it differently, for different reasons, and embraces different parts of age regression so please be kind and respectful and honour others’ dnis when you know what they are!! ❤️🪦🦇

more on little space:

http://bit.ly/3PuslbQ

mental health hotline international directories:

[lillyspeakz]

Can I rant/vent about some concertgoers here? I desperately and genuinely need some people to learn basic concert etiquette and human decency before they ever go to another concert again. These are REAL PEOPLE. I think some of you guys forget that.

Please do not throw things on stage unprompted! People can get injured because of things being thrown at them. It takes one person throwing something and he or other members could get hurt. I don't care if he doesn't say anything about it, that doesn't suddenly make it okay. And it doesn't matter if he's a grown man and it doesn't matter if everyone else does it. It's disrespectful to throw things at people. 

The band got a Gromlin Flag at one of their shows (Props to whoever made the flag!) and some fans wrote stuff on like their names, drawing, and messages but there were also NSFW messages written on it like “Fuck me” “Whip it out” Do not do that! Look, I get that a majority(?) of LVJY fans are teenagers and that the stuff they say online they either mean nonserious or a joke-y way. So, I get tweeting those words on a platform he doesn't use so he’ll won't see them but writing them on a flag for him where he'll see it is just weird. And the way I've been seeing people trying to excuse this, “Wilbur is a 30-year-old grown ass man with dick and balls, he can handle a sexual comment or two especially when he hasn't spoken against it.” Yes, he is a grown man and it's probably weird and uncomfortable as hell for him (and the rest of the band) to get NSFW and sexual messages from (most likely) underage fans, so stop. Please, don’t write or say something weird where they will or can see/hear it. 

Also, can we please respect the band’s personal space! Crowding around them, touching them, and grabbing them without consent is not ok. While it’s ok to be excited, it’s not ok to be disrespectful like that. They are human beings with personal space and deserve to be treated as such! I understand being excited to see him, after the kind of year we’ve had but he is one man against a swarm.

Unrelated Side-Tangent: Am I the only one that's kind of nervous and worried about Wilbur possibly streaming again? I mean, people will jump him and hate in chat so he may have to be on emote mode or - for his own mental health and well-being - disable chat and donations, for a while. Unless he makes a whole new channel for streaming but even then, I feel like it’s not safe for him because while the hate may not be as potent as it was earlier this year, it's still there.

THIS ALL OF IT! The nsfw shit is actually disgusting. Like why- I get posting it and shit and about characters. But irl? No. Absolutely not. Like be a human being and see that that’s not ok. Love the flag tho-

Also I’m nervous too. I don’t want to see the comments, I don’t want to see what people say. I just want positive. That’s all. I just want to listen to him talk. And he knows it’s still there, and I think that’s why he’s getting so emotional at shows which is 100% valid and understandable. He has people who want to see him and his band still. Listen to him talk and play, etc. it’s so special to him. And that’s what I love about it. He cares about us. And if he goes emote mod only and shit- so be it! I miss him and he wants to stream again, he wouldn’t bring it up if he didn’t,

[where-the-warren-ends]

Welcome to the warren

Call me Fiver—he/him pronouns. I’m a boy (FtM) navigating life with ADHD and autism, and I’m always excited to make new friends. While I keep my age private, I am above 18 so minors please do not interact with me, this Warren is a safe space for everyone who respects boundaries and enjoys a mix of creativity and chaos.

I also love creating OCs—building worlds, characters, and their stories is my biggest passion. So, whether it’s Star Wars aliens or clown-themed misfits, expect a lot of imaginative content here.

Feel free to reach out on Discord (broken_warren)—though it’s about as reliable as a warren during a storm, I love connecting and chatting with cool folks!

Here in the warren, I post:

Incorrect quotes (expect absurd humor and chaos)

Stories and world building (currently working on my own Star Wars species and more!)

Fanfiction (I'm not very good at the moment and please do not expect anything sexual)

These are a few of my favorite things:

🐇 Watership Down—I live for the balance of hope and tragedy. 🌌 Star Wars and Star Trek—two galaxies, infinite possibilities. 🎮 Undertale—nothing hits quite like it. 🎃 Horror movies—especially Saw and slasher classics. 🤡 Clowns! From circus whimsy to terrifying chaos (yes, I love ICP and Big Top Burger). 📖 Percy Jackson—still my favorite demigod world. 🎵 Weird Al—because parody makes life better. 🧩 Retro media and oddities like Clockwork Orange, Black Christmas, and The Muppets. 🖌️ Making OCs—crafting characters is my favorite way to build new worlds.

Boundaries for the Warren (DNI)

This warren is a safe and respectful space. Please do not interact if you are:

Proshippers or ship real people in any way. NSFW/k!nk accounts, fetish blogs, DDLG/ABDL, or anything sexualizing agere.Minors, thinspo/pro-ED accounts, or pro-self-harm spaces.

Supporters or fans of:Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Vivziepop content.Dream SMP, Wilbur Soot, or the Dream Team.

The Good Doctor, MHA, Stranger Things, Owl House, supernatural and the coffin of Andy and Leyla fans DNI

Anti-agere blogs, or people who demonize personality disorders.

Zoophiles, pedos, MAPs, or creeps of any kind.

Let’s keep this warren safe, kind, and creative—a space where everyone can feel at home.

Welcome to my blog. Let’s share stories, explore new worlds, and burrow into some wild adventures together!

[tinydreamblob]

﹌﹌﹌【Please Read】﹌﹌﹌

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Hello!! This blog is specifically made for blob, if you have a question for blob send it into the asks or my personal strawpage but please make sure you say that your ask is for this blog if you ask on straw, if you have a question for me specifically I go by Sam and please do the same thing send it into either the asks or my straw but once again please say that your question is meant to be on this blog not my main!! Please do not spread misinformation towards anyone about this blog, Dream, or anyone in general, I feel like this needs to be said more often.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 DNI: usual dni, toxic SSS (this blog is a WSS safe space), toxic dream stans AND WEIRD DREAM STANS, homophobes, Dream haters. This is just about it but I will block people freely.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 for personal info on me (Sam) I am a MINOR so please do not be weird towards me or blob, blob doesn't appreciate being weird towards him, undiagnosed ADHD, Austim, and dyslexia, WSS I'm putting this here bc on my main I also am fully WSS Shelby supports are aloud as long as they aren't mean and toxic!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the main 'Adventure (num)' posts will be once a day but I will post dream related stuff in general to it if I feel like, so expect a few more things from this account then just adventures with blob! If I'm not posting Adventure posts it's because I'm brainstorming ideas to make thos blog more interactive, fun, and new adventures so I'm not reusing any ideas!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 !! If you have any problems with this account please DM this account personally and me and my management will try and solve the problem !! (My management is @lesbiananvilcat if anyone would like to talk to them first instead of me)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 If I send in asks to your blog you can tell its this blog by the tag or 'Blob:)🌱' and sometimes ':)🌱'!!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tags that will be used: Dream, mcyt dream, wss, Wilbur soot support, Wilbur support squad, blob blog, where is blob?, blob dream

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Links to my main blog, and strawpage I do have this blog pinned on my main, the only person I told myself about this blog is my management!

Edit dates (for me personally to keep track!)

Edit 1: 8/22/24

Edit 2: 8/23/24

Edit 3: 9/3/24

Edit 4: 9/16/24