#tw: graphic

[skeletoninthemelonland]

[Trigger warning]: Mentions of death and body horror.

This post is about my understanding of William Afton's possession of the Springbonnie suit!

One of the very few headcanons that I have is that, after his death, William Afton possessed both the Yellow Suit and his own corpse. It was more of an obligation rather than a choice. If he wanted to move around as Springtrap, he needed to bear the excruciating pain. Possessing a corpse meant striving to become "alive" again.

That probably explains why his body didn't fully decompose, even after 30 years: because his soul continuously struck it with jolts of energy, forcing the severely damaged tissue to function under awful conditions (cell membranes rupture and spill their contents after death, but they were forced back together). Here's an illustration:

To me, Springtrap didn't die once or twice, nor a third time. He died thousands and thousands of times and kept on coming back.

"I always come back."

The springlocks weren't the only cause of his suffering. It was the hunger, thirst, lack of oxygen, sleep deprivation, and subsequent infections, paired up with the psychological effects of it all.

[myfandomrealitea]

Your post regarding specifc places for things and some places dont need a vent channel it helped me realise that the people i follow online were damaging to my health. They were constantly sharing real people who died horrifically and saying things like "if you dont share you're supporting violence " while i only joined social media to view art.

I actively speak about real life events offline with my family, we always talk about whats happening in the world once a week and mention anything new within the local and worldwide news. I didn't understand why social media was worsening my mental health around these topics since i could speak about it in real life with my family. i assumed i was horrible for simply not wanting to see it online, When your post about a safe space came up i realised why it made me feel so bad, the artists i followed no longer were posting art and were just constantly sharing news daily about horrific events. It became inescapable and i was unknownly doomscrolling for hours on social media while hoping to see art (that just made me feel bad viewing after seeing so much death) , my only escape was going offline. I already made new accounts just for art and Im so thankful for your post since i did avoid everything that was about real world events since the account is only for art and i feel so much more.. i guess happier.. but definitely more mentally healthy if that makes sense? It felt like my mind was drained or foggy when scrolling through social media, and i wasnt actually paying attention before but now its a lot more, clear, healthy and positive. Im able to think properly and actually pay attention and appreciate the good things online

I'm so glad I was able to help you on your journey to bettering your wellbeing. Its an aspect of why I run this blog and talk about the things that I do.

So very often people don't actually register or realize what parts of their lives are causing stress. They attribute it to 'working too much' or 'not sleeping enough' without realizing that there are direct causes for things like not sleeping enough. And I'm not saying every single part of life comes back to activism, but very often we don't even realize how much negativity and forced awareness we're exposing ourselves to.

I used to religiously follow accounts on Instagram which posted about animal abuse. Other than a handful of celebrities my Instagram feed would be the most graphic videos you could imagine of people hacking into live dogs with axes, boiling cats alive in huge vats of water, jockeys tearing at horse's mouths until their teeth were loose and they were leaving a trail of blood as they walked the winner's circle.

I used to think if I wasn't constantly forcing myself to acknowledge that these things were happening, if I wasn't constantly reminding myself the extent at which these things happen, I was a bad person. I wasn't a real animal lover. If I truly loved animals why wasn't I sharing these videos? Why wasn't I sitting there with thousands of other people acknowledging what animals go through while I sit comfy at home doing nothing?

It got the point where I'd be throwing up constantly, I refused to sleep because I was terrified of the nightmares and my hands would shake as I opened up the Instagram app because I dreaded what I'd see today.

It wasn't helping me. It wasn't helping the animals. I'm just as aware now of what animals go through without having to see any of it.

But now, I have the wellbeing to actually devote myself to meaningful activism. Not just tormenting myself to no outcome. Now, I have the willpower and the energy to sign petitions and do research and take steps in my own life to better the welfare of the animals in my care.

Now I can sleep at night and wake up well-rested with the energy and the motivation to do things both for myself and for other people. Now, I can scroll Instagram and leave polite, correctional comments on misguided videos about animals. Now I have the knowledge to devote my attention and my efforts to where it actually makes a difference and changes animal's lives.

It is such, such a hard thing to drag yourself out of. We're so conditioned into thinking suffering shared is suffering lessened. We're so conditioned into believing that by spamming words anywhere we can we are the direct cause of change.

Its a hell of a learning climb. A steep one. But I genuinely believe the world would be better off for learning and changing as we both had the courage to.

[foxedthecards]

"Jonas? Are you - hey - are you okay?"

In the past few days,Jonas had been working pretty hard. Maybe in fact just a little too hard. Pulling back-to-back shifts bartending over at the Four Queens across the street at night, canvassing during the day following up on possible gig opportunities. The little desk in the corner of their shabby little hotel room here at the Oasis 5 was littered with notebooks and scribbled napkins and paper because in the midst of all of that, he'd been busily working out ideas pertaining to a magic show.

But this night, he'd come in as quietly as a mouse, trying hard not to wake Artair. Poor guy was still recovering after all. He'd dropped down on the worn cushions of the lopsided couch by the window he'd taken up nighttime residence on. He'd really only intended to nap for a few hours at the most in preparation for the next shift at the bar but it hadn't been long before he was absolutely dead to the world.

Not for long though.

He didn't appear to have heard Artair's soft inquiry. He was sitting up but still partially sprawled out over the couch, one white knuckled hand digging clawed fingers into the arm of the couch, the other hand feebly moving around, scraping over the couch as if he was trying to dig his way out of something. His eyes were wide but they saw no shabby hotel room.

He was buried in mud and debris, trapped, rain pouring down, soaking him. His ears rang, his concussed senses barely functioning. Pain flooded his side. Blood obscured the sight in one eye.

But oh god, he wanted to be blind, he wanted to lose all his senses, let oblivion claim him. Anything to not be forced to stare at him lying there on the ground less than an arm's length away.

Most of his head and face were gone, plastered to the opposite wall of the trench. Maggots feasted on what remained. His remaining eye stared sightlessly at Jonas. One mangled hand stretched out towards him. He heard him screaming over and over: help me, help me, help me, help me but he wasn't alive he wasn't alive oh god, oh cruel unfeeling God...

" Evan..." Jonas croaked. Tears began to run freely down his face.

[ohulancutash]

Mine came out sideways in the other direction and bored a hole halfway through my cheek in the middle of a lockdown. I still have a scar inside my mouth from it.

[and-corn]

shoutout to the "foolproof" bread recipe I fucked up entirely for inspiring this

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

How Bill was defeated and captured by Ford in my Gf AU! He basically just tricked Bill into accepting a deal that trapped him within Ford's mind and under his control :]

He may have gotten a little out of hand though....

>:)

Next post :]

[goatgutzupon]

my fav stamps (i have so many but these r a couple ive found)

[cheezitofthevalley]

Rare blinkies

idk if these are actually rare these are just some blinkies I've only come across once or twice when browsing resources and neocities.

PART TWO!!!

[thunderbird-3-best-bird]

Alan lets out another wrenching cough, a few more crimson drops hitting your old t-shirt. A shaky, sad noise escapes his mouth. "...J-John... I..." He sniffles, clamping onto you more. His eyes lock with yours for a second, tears rolling down his way-too-pale cheeks. His voice drops to a ragged whisper.

"...I'm scared..."

He starts coughing again, trembling in your arms. Slowly a little dribble of red starts running down his chin as you walk.

"...I-I'm... I s-sca-ha-hared..."

By the time you reach 'Two he's full-on blubbering. He's burning, and I mean burning with fever now, the VSM is blaring, and Virgil's nowhere to be found. He should be on board 2 by now...

It Wasn't Too Many Croissants [RP]

@thunderbird-3-best-bird:

Another weak cough is the only answer John gets. John is shocked when he realises the fever only went up instead of down. "...Hh..." 43°C. Hospital time. Alan's body shocks with the next bout of ragged coughs, his face pale as a sheet. At this point he's starting to resemble a sheet of paper more than himself. When by the next cough a small blood droplet comes up it's decided. Time to call Virgil.

John freezes at the sight of blood on Alan's fingers.

"What the-" He starts, already pushing himself upright and seizing the kids sticky fingers with his own. It's not clear what he expected, but John seems genuinely surprised when, turning his brother's hand this way and that, as if it were all a trick of the light, doesn't make the splash of crimson go away.

John's heart is a kick drum in his chest, rabbit fast and dizzyingly uncertain. If Virgil's reply, a blur of white text at his wrist save for the letters for HOSPITAL, didn't spur him into action, this new development sure did.

This is a lot more than a simple fever, or too many croissants.

"Hold still Allie." He instructs, already sweeping the scattered remnants of the medkit back into it's bag, and slinging the strap over his shoulder. "We're going to take a little ride in the Tracy Two, you and me, ok?" He piles the IV bag and tubing atop his youngest brother's lap, remotely accesses the hangar door from his wrist comm, and curls both arms under Alan's shoulders and knees. "Ready?" He asks, more courtesy than anything, and lifts the kid into the air.

Geez. John thinks, as something in his back that's wildly unused to heavy lifting pulls. When did little Alan get so heavy?

[clara-scintilla]

[selysie]

　 𝜗୧⠀⠀⠀𓈒⠀⠀⠀dividers by me ۪ㅤ🐏◞ ྀ

　　 　 　 ⠀˖　⠀˙⠀　｡　⠀rb to use/save

credit to @abyslita for using one of his dividers:3!! vv sorry, forgot to credit so mb <3

[okaydays22]

[e-resources]

meat themed graphics?……..

🥩,,, MEAT GR4PHICS !!

[all-things-cutecore]

[the-star-rigel]

pjo/hoo/toa + the cycle

The Lightning Thief / Growing Sideways, Noah Kahan / Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan, Ilya Repin + Saturn Devouring His Son, Goya + Saturn, Rubens / The Blood of Olympus / The Family Jewels, MARINA / The Last Olympian / The Sea of Monsters / The Family Jewels / Orestes Pursued by the Furies, Bouguereau / The Hidden Oracle / Apollo and Marsyas, Manfredi / In The Blood, John Mayer / The Sea of Monsters / The Combat of Ares and Athena, Jacques Louis David / The Family Jewels / Mark of Athena / The Combat of Ares and Athena / The Lightning Thief / Family Line, Conan Gray / Cronos and Rhea, Schinkel / The Lightning Thief / The Blood of Olympus / In The Blood / The Last Olympian / Chronos and His Child, Romanelli / Desireé Dellagiacomo / The Lightning Thief / Family Line / The Fallen Angel, Alexandre Cabanel + The Last Day of Pompeii, Bryullov / The Blood of Olympus / The Outcast, Botticelli / Glass, Irony and God, Anna Carson / House of Hades / Family Line / The Last Olympian / The Lament for Icarus, Herbert Draper + Sacrifice of Iphigenia, Roman School + Minerva and Arachne, Houasse + Venus Induces Helen to Fall in Love with Paris, Kauffmann / The Last Olympian / Hadestown / The Lightning Thief / apple, Charli xcx / The Last Olympian / I Would Leave Me If I Could, Halsey / The Sea of Monsters / ? / LET YOUR DAD DIE ENERGY DRINK, Lavery and Corrigan / The Last Olympian / Eat Your Young, Hozier / The Last Olympian / Orpheus and the Bacchantes, Lazzarini / The Blood of Olympus / Susan Smith, wych elm / Orpheus and the Bacchantes / The Burning Maze / ? / The Tyrant’s Tomb / Perseus Freeing Andromeda, Veronese / Abduction of Psyche, Bouguereau + Bacchus and Ariadne, Van Loo / The Tower of Nero / The Tower of Nero / The Tower of Nero

[goatgutzupon]

like my 4th stamp set XD