thedarkenedkeeper:

@yourestillnotmytype-58​ and I were talking and we got
into the conversation of how we treat Anti and how he’s not really appreciated.
Sure, we’re giving him plenty of attention, but let’s face facts: since “Kill
Jack” happened, even though we’re scared of what’ll happen next, we’re not
doing anything to stop him or straighten him out. We’re STILL calling him the
nickname he absolutely hates – a nickname I have flat out refused to use ever
since that video. And what’s worse is that since then, we’ve made endless memes
out of him, making him into a joke. He’s no longer scary, he’s become a joke
and it’s sad.

So the idea @yourestillnotmytype-58​ and I came up with?

Anti’s birthday is on October
10^th, the very first time we ever saw him. October is his month, and
we thought ‘well why don’t we make October Anti-awareness month’? Basically we
should all get together for the month and agree to put an end to the memes and
name-calling, and focus on the good things about Anti. Have almost like an
Inktober kind of event go on, with a new prompt each day and from it, create
anything related to Anti (whether it’s fan art, fanfiction, edits, music,
cosplay, doesn’t matter)! The idea is to TRY and make Anti feel loved and treat
him like the son he is. It’s like that one post I made a few weeks ago about
how we should call ourselves his “Glitch Bitches” instead of calling him that
name. It’s taking a thing he absolutely hates and turning it on ourselves and
making it into something better. October should be the month we FINALLY get our
act together and show him the love he so desperately deserves.

No more ignoring him, no more
making fun of him and making him a joke, no more of not taking him seriously.
We need to stop viewing him as just our creation, put on the grownup pants, and
be the loving, caring parents we should’ve been a LONG time ago.

Yeah, sure, I honestly believe
we are all SO screwed and that he’s officially done with us. So even if we do
try to show him we love him, I genuinely don’t believe he’ll listen or believe
us. I mean, we didn’t listen to him, so why would he listen to us? However,
even if he doesn’t listen, even if we have fucked up and it’s too late, that
doesn’t mean we shouldn’t show him some love. Even if everything is going to
come crashing down, he at least deserves to know the truth before all hell
breaks loose.

Below is the list of prompts @yourestillnotmytype-58​, @golden-eyed-guardians​, @septic-obsessed​, and I put together for the month.
Please by all means have fun with it and get as creative as possible.

Tag any
of your pieces with #LoveforAnti  so we can see
what you come up with.
And remember, guys, this is an Anti-awareness event. Try to stray away from
anything that could be seen as “hurtful” or “mean” to Anti (such as the GB
nickname or the many memes that are out there).

Now I don’t know about any of
you, but come October 10^th, I’m going to spend the day snuggled in
my Anti hoodie, watching all of his appearances while either working on
Glitched or some fan art for him.

Our glitchy son deserves just
as much love as all of the other egos. Let’s show him we care.

1. Enjoy the Show/FNAF Sister Location
2. Forgotten or Just Too Afraid to Remember?
3. Snitches Get Stitches
4. We’re All Mad Here
5. That’s Not a Knife, THIS is a Knife
6. Did You Miss Me?
7. Don’t Believe His Lies
8. When Memories Break
9. Pumpkin-carving/Good Ol’ Gerald
10. I Hope You’re Happy
11. All Monsters Are Human
12. Once One Goes Down, They All Go Down
13. It’s All Your Fault
14. If You Love Someone, You Should Never Hurt Them
15. I Don’t Feel Too Well
16. No Strings On Me
17. Say Goodbye
18. Laughter is the Best Medicine
19. In Your Heads
20. Pay Attention
21. Dead is the New Alive
22. Down With the Sickness
23. Need a Doctor
24. Return of the Septic Eye
25. Green Screen of Death
26. Live. Die. Repeat.
27. Glitch in the System
28. You’ll Glitch Too
29. Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better
30. Time is Broken
31. See You Soon

Tagging the people who I think will be interested in this:

@steffid101, @fear-is-nameless, @no-strings-puppet, @nightmarewolf133, @haveaverynicetime, @maybekatie, @darkcurious, @butterlover328, @jse-fandom-protection-squad, @lil-gib, @aeoix, @lemonofweirdness, @sketchy-scribs-n-doods

00mystie:

rapscalyn:

oujiadere:

soypresidencial:

unsuccessfulmetalbenders:

there is so much tragedy in the world like war and starvation and the outfits that disney channel actors wear 

please everyone a moment of silence

I’ve already reblogged this today but I need to again because they’re /so/ bad

it’s clashy and bad and ohmygod help me do they think this is what teens wear?

no

where is Gunther fuckin’ it up with a crop top and some Adidas sweatpants??

WHOEVER WAS THEIR COSTUME DESIGNER….NANI THE FRICK

Who the hell would wear that on a daily basis?

what the f u c k

alexandot:

tumblr is glitching and this is my whole dash

D E S T R O Y

martinplier:

Carnival Game

“Google Google Google!!!!” Wilford’s loud voice goes straight through his closed door, echoes loudly around his room and he looks up from his computer, pausing in his typing. He had been hunched over the device for hours now, trying to find different ways to upgrade himself. In the emotional way. He found himself to be… lacking, when it came to emotional standards and so he has been searching for days- when he’s not busy- for upgrades to fix this little problem. This is the first break of attention Google has had in five hours exactly since he has sat down at the computer this day.

The door bursts open a moment later and Wilford rushes inside, panting heavily with wide and excited eyes. Google looks him up and down, reading his emotions even further. Elevated heart rate from excitement, adrenaline pumping through his veins from excitement and other things from excitement. He continues to yell Google’s name until the android has had enough of it.

“Yes, Wilford?” He broke into the continuous flow of his name, head already beginning to ache. While he would normally enjoy being in the loud man’s presence any sign of strong emotion from anyone around him had begun to grind at his ears, grate at his brain and it was quite painful for the android.

“Okay okay so I was watching this show called ‘Steven Universe’-” Google’s databases kick into hyperdrive, searching up every small detail it could find about this cartoon. Intrigued as to why Wilford would be bringing it up, he tunes in more to listen- “and they do this thing called fusion-” once more he searches. Mixing or combining of two- “and I was wondering if you would try it out with me.”

All of Google’s searches abruptly stop once Wilford says this last part and his eyebrows draw together tightly. He bites down on his lip, gives Wilford a quizzical look as he thinks over what “fusion” is in this show Wilford seems so excited about. He only grows more confused once he finds the answer. “…. What?”

Wilford throws his hands up in the air dramatically. “You know, we could try and dance together!” He exclaimed and Google frowns deeply. He’s never danced before. He knows how. He knows every kind of dance there is. He’s just never done himself. “We could try and fuse!”

“Wilford, I do not think it is-”

“Let’s try anyway!” Wilford interrupted because he obviously knows what Google is going onto say. He clasps his hands in the pleading notion, opening his eyes wide like a puppy would begging for scraps. Even Google, an android that is programmed to be devoid of emotion, can never say no to Wilford. He is too boisterous. Too… filled with feeling. Perhaps Google is jealous of this fact. “Please.”

Google sighs heavily and stands up straight, brushing himself off and straightening his shirt of any wrinkles. He raises his chin slightly, not meaning to but gaining the look of superiority to Wilford. This is just how he olds himself. He doesn’t mean to look like he believe he’s better than everyone. That’s just what happens. “Fine. We can try,” he stated and Wilford claps his hands like a child.

“Okay, we need music!” Wilford exclaimed, meeting Google’s eyes and the android sighs heavily. Not everyone knows this fact but Google can play music from hidden speakers in his shoulders. Wilford is one of the few who knows this.

“What genre?” He asked with a click of his tongue.

“Hhhmmm,” Wilford hummed, twiddling with the edge of his mustache. He snaps a moment later, “How about jazz and rock?”

“Unlikely combination,” Google pointed out yet he begins to search for a playlist with a mixed assortment of the music kind Wilford desires.

“Well, I know you like rock,” Wilford began explaining and Google forgot that Wilford knows so much about his likes and dislikes. Wilford is too good at finding those sorts of things out. “But I like jazz. So, we need both, obviously.”

Google finds a playlist and chooses it, playing it at thirty percent volume. It plays jazz at first. He had clicked shuffle and so now a saxophone blares gently in the background. “How shall we dance?” He asked then, now that they have the required music.

Wilford hums once more, eyelids drifting shut halfway. “However you desire,” he replied and actually bows to the android. “You just need to be relaxed, my robot friend.”

Google can’t stifle the laugh that comes from him when he hears the stupid nickname. He clears his throat and searches through database after database, trying to find the best way to-

His hands are suddenly grabbed and he’s roughly pulled out of his thoughts. He lets out a noise of surprise just as Wilford spins him to the side. “You maybe the smartest man in the world!” Wilford exclaimed with a loud laugh. “But you obviously have no idea how to dance.”

The android scrunches his nose up and brushes himself off again, scoffing as he watches Wilford step towards him, swaying his hips and snapping. “Then how do you dance?” Google asked just as Wilford once more grabs his hands, pulling him closer as though to tell a secret.

“You don’t think,” Wilford said and Google’s eyes widen because how does one not think that’s impossible he always needs to- Wilford snaps his fingers in front of his eyes, gaining his attention. A grin is on his face. “You just… dance!”

Wilford then grabs one of Google’s hands and lets him fly out to the length of both of their arms. He’s pulled back a moment later and the android is dipped. His eyes widen when he realizes something: it’s all to the beat of the music. He focuses on the tune, the rhythm, and straightens up, grabs Wilford’s shoulders and turns him, pressing his back to his stomach. Google then leads with stepping to the side and he’s amazed at how well Wilford is keeping up with his movements. He turns Wilford back so their chests are together and he grabs one hand, twirls him and then they dip together in sync.

The music picks up in speed and so do they, footsteps moving so fast that they nearly step on one another multiple times. Google has switched to leading, twirling and dipping and moving the ways he wants Wilford to move and Wilford moves how he wants him to. A strange feeling in the android’s gut is forming- something he’s never felt before and it’s strange, new. It’s warm and an urge. He can tell Wilford has it, too, because they press closer to one another at the same time. The urge is to be closer, to never release the other man, to always continue dancing. That feeling spreads from his stomach to his limbs and brain and he feels warm, warmer than he has in over a decade.

He loves it. Never wants to lose it.

He lifts Wilford into the air and carries him, and as soon as Wilford’s feet hit the ground, laughing loudly in glee, Google can’t help but crack a smile as well, giggling softly. “Throw me, Googs!” Wilford said loudly and with so much energy Google has to. He throws Wilford and the ego does a spin in the air, throwing his arms out as he comes falling back to the android.

Just as Wilford lands back in his hands, a laughing and giggling madly, Google chuckling softly, that’s when it happens. A burst of light and warmth and energy and he can feel Wilford becoming even closer than ever before, feel his happiness and all of his emotions at once and it’s like a truck hit him.

But then, they form. They are on the ground, sitting with their legs spread apart and their hands in the middle, looking up in confusion. Thy blink slowly and flex a hand, so many thoughts and emotions circling in them at once. A strand of pink and blue hair falls into their face and they pull at it, trying to see it better but of course that wasn’t going to work. They’re smarter than that, right?

They push to their feet, feel at their face and everywhere else because they can’t believe this worked this is amazing it worked-! What an amazing discovery this is indeed. Two pairs of eyes. Two center with another beside each, on the outside. They only have two arms, disappointingly. They had been hoping for an extra pair of hands. They grab at the shirt they wear and find it to be a nice cotton candy green, a large c in the center glowing a bright red. Their pants are a bright cotton candy purple and once they find a mirror they find out it looks like someone dropped a mixture of blue and pink cotton candy on their head for hair.
Their two center eyes glow a bright blue like Google’s while the outer pair are a neon pink. They blink repeatedly, wink with one pair and then the other. Amazing. They then notice the red veins in their skin, beneath their eyes and running down their neck and arms. They look like the kind of veins you find inside of an electronic but now they stick out of their skin. They feel at them curiously, finding them to be cool despite their warm glow. They lift their shirt and find that their entire torso is made of metal. If they were to open the chest plate found there, they would have discovered a machine gun courtesy of Wilford’s love of guns.

They lean away from the mirror and tap their chin because this is the time that most fusions would name themselves, right? They hum in thought, running their fingers along the facial hair on their chin. They need more facial hair.

Then, they smile because they can actually feel happy and they snap their fingers, making finger guns at their reflection. “We like fucking cotton candy!” They exclaimed and winked at themself. “Carnival Game sounds like a rad name! Let’s go with that!” They nod and snap again, turning like a runway model does, swaying their hips like Wilford.

What a wonderful feeling being them.

—

I had to write their fusion okay. Carnival Game is my cotton candy child and I love them so much.