#killer christmas tree

[bobgoesw00t]

It’s not quite Thanksgiving yet, but I don’t give a fuck and am posting this GIF in the spirit of Christmas x3

[darkitsunex]

Zodiac Signs as Puppet Combo Villains

Aries- The Nun

Taurus- The Mutilator

Gemini- Billy

Cancer- Santa

Leo- Dr. Edward Sullivan

Virgo- Womb Ripper

Libra- Larry's tree

Scorpio- Night Ripper

Sagittarius- Easter Ripper

Capricorn- Night Shift Abductor

Aquarius- Neokalaus Burr

Pisces- Driller Killer

[topazshadowwolf]

Chapter Sum: The boys go look for trees, and the Fire King awakens.

Fic Sum: It is that time of year again. It has been a few years since the first holiday he shared with his henchmen… his boys. Since then, a truce formed between his brother and him, and he has started to take the relationship between him and the Guardian of Balance, Lyra, more seriously. This year, he wants to be special… as life is changing, and for the better.

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

POM POM: KILLER OF MASCOT GAMES VOL.3 #11 (Vol Finale!)

Pom Pom vs Ristar

"Thanks for stickin' round, pal! I really appreciate you watching me in my endeavors! Hehehaha! I think I'm gonna take a little break. I've been feelin' that same ol' tiredness from before, and I might go into hibernation for a month or so... Anyways.

Thanks for the ride so far fellas! Hehehaha! See you next year!"

Previous Next

Who is Pom Pom?

Pom Pom is a virus/glitch formed by the scrapped side-scrolling arcade game from the early 90's “Pom-Pom Panic”. Pom Pom (the main character of Pom Pom Panic) for whatever reason gained sentience halfway during the game’s development. The game was cancelled halfway because the publishing company thought it was too bizarre of a concept and mascot character to gain interest. Pom Pom heard of the news and took it way too personally, as she literally cannot fathom why someone would think she’s ‘bizarre’-even to the point of getting ‘axed’. Prompted by the ‘poor judgement’ Pom Pom went rouge-breaking from her game to ‘axe’ any ‘approved’ game mascots/characters she thought could count as ‘bizarre’ like her.

[wlw-cryptid]

hi I hope your doing well❤️

I’m so excited and I can’t tell my parents this but the person I have been flirting with for months , we finally made it official and we’re dating.

they also sent me a photo of them in boxers before I asked 🤤🤤🤤. I didn’t know who to tell, hope I’m not like over stepping a boundary 🫣

!!!! congrats im so happy for you !!!

[southdigitalcreation]

https://southdigitalcreation.etsy.com/listing/1604647711

[thedrillerkiller]

[jukeboxofjellycat]

[zeiciety]

Funny Christmas drawing for Christmas on Christmas month

[bobgoesw00t]

Since it’s officially Christmas Eve in most of the world, I GIVE YOU THIS ICONIC GIF:

[saintlesbian]

did nik and Liz really still believe Esme was the hook after all this time??? I thought they were just keeping her prisoner bc she’s carrying niks child and she could go to jail for the revenge porn thing. y’all really tanked both of your relationships over NOTHINGGGGG

[junkyarddemento]

SNAPPER: THE PERFECT TREE

Now that we're in the holiday season, we'll get plastered by a wave of Christmas themed commercials. Some are classic, most are forgettable, but what UK department store John Lewis gifts us this year with, is very Little Shop of Horrors. A young boy finds a special plant that has a giant hunger for anything and maybe, anyone. Fun, entertaining, and with the right dash of dark comedy, this is a commercial we won't hit the 'skip' button for when it pops up!

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)³ retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. { his pov } [ one, two, three]

she’s like a breath of fresh air. bright and cold. a gust so frigid that it sends goosebumps to shroud his skin. like the first fall of snow. was it december now? how long has it been since he’d left? how long has he wandered? adrift like a buoy at sea. but strangely stuck, straying in place. like some sort of ghost. trapped and terrified.

he thinks she’s naive. strange, even. like a child left outside without supervision. prone to being up to no good. she’s insistent in her little fiat car. her hands are covered in a pair of creme wool gloves. and when he looks close enough he notices that they’re fraying at the seam. worn. loved.

she says her name. it’s pretty, her name. it fits. she’s expectant, waiting for him to speak. give her something, anything he’s sure. she seems like a good girl. too good, too much for him, not enough for her. he hardly even knew her. but she wants to know you. she’s being nice. nothing more. simon. that’s what he tells her and it rolls off her tongue faultlessly. “well, we’re not strangers anymore, simon.” is what she says. he finds her amusing.

it’s her eyes. that’s what makes him slide into the passenger seat. they're wide. warm. nervous— despite her being the one to offer him a ride. it’s endearing, if not a bit entertaining. and the cold has already frozen his body. he can hardly feel his feet. but he deserves this. this life that he’s been subjected to.

she’s an anxious thing. her gloved hands drum lightly against the steering wheel. she’s shit at making small talk. and from the reflection of the car window, he can see the way she works her bottom lip into her mouth. he’s tempted to thumb it from within the wet heat. he doesn't.

“could be a killer.” she smiles. her eyes brighten. it’s small but he finds himself forgetting to breathe. in and out. in and out. she smells temptingly like honey and spices, all tangy and sweet. fuck. he holds his breath. “are you?” he doesn't respond. after all the killing. the blood that stains his hands. his skin. won't come off no matter how hard he scrubs. he’s a murderer. yes, i am. she’s too trusting. he wouldn't hurt her. never.

small. is how he would describe the apartment. small but homey. filled with greenery, color, and a tiny christmas tree. it’s tucked away. surrounded by lights at its base. it smells like chocolate, milk to be specific. but her as well. honeyed spices and dried fruits, tangy and sweet. the radio that he hears plays quietly. silent night in instrumental. his heart tightens in his chest.

he’s not sure how he ended up here. surrounded by her four walls. she suggests sweetly. eyes wide and sad at his destination. he declines. she isn't the type to take no for an answer. her brows are knitted. hands tightening. he’s enamored. he shouldn't stay. he should tuck and roll out the car while he has the chance. run. like he’s used to doing. too late the two pull in. she’s pleased with herself. he grins faintly beneath his mask. cute.

the couch is a bed. it pulls out into one anyway. she busies herself. shuffling to get sheets and a comforter. it’s a faded baby blue, printed with delicate flowers. and she looks proud. smiling at the cozy couch. her lips are coated in a sheen. from the lip balm she’d put on a second ago. and he adverts his eyes when she looks toward him. couldn't meet those wide eyes. sweet and nervous. he stares instead at the makeshift bed. she speaks. grins awkwardly.

“thank you.” he means it. it’s stiff. his voice hoarse from the cold but, he means it— no matter how gruff it comes out. her hands. no longer swathed by wool gloves, slide down denim-clad thighs. lips press. and her head nods. she says his name again, but scurries before he can reply, and maybe it’s for the best. he can barely speak.

click.

he shouldn't. but he finds himself amused. good girl. he was still a stranger after all. a strange man she has willingly invited into her home. he wondered briefly if she was right in the head. right to slow for him. to smile at him. she couldn't be. unsure. he can’t get comfortable. just lays there and listens to her faint voice. walls thin. voice muffled. but words clear. “die tonight.”— “…love you.” he ponders.

he doesn't remember a ring. friend? mom? boyfriend? his heart aches. he doesn't know her. he has no right to feel anything. she was nice, too good. he was the opposite, with nowhere to go. nothing to offer. why was he here? he should leave. but sleep weighs heavy on his eyes. bing crosby lulls him to sleep. he’d be gone before she woke.

i've always thought simon to have very choppy thoughts. and always being very in his head. very observant. so yeah. listened to christmas music making this! hehehe

[hedgehog-moss]

I received a BroomSlayer 3000 for Christmas!

Behind its jovial mien lies a cold-blooded killer. It's got merciless jaws to clamp onto the plant and a heavy pivoting handle to extract the roots.

I think Father Christmas saw the Christmas Broom held hostage in my living room, under which he was supposed to leave presents, and realised I had reached a breaking point. Last winter I removed all the invasive shrubs in the pasture. I cut everything! Down to the tiniest baby broomlets! And one year later the place looks like this

It's luxuriant. It's humiliating. It's a boundless undulating broom prairie. Clearly as far as they're concerned, I just gave them a nice trim which allowed them to grow back even healthier. So I needed to try something more violent. Get to the root of the problem. (Sorry.)

(I noticed that the spot of last year's broom bonfire is still completely broom-free, but I have not yet reached the point where I set fire to the entire pasture and hope for the best)

Now let me demonstr

—wait a minute.

Is Pampe eating broom??

Ah, no. She's eating pointless, flavourless, leafless brambles which she wouldn't look at twice if they weren't right next to the plants I'd like her to eat, thus emphasising how much she is not eating these.

For a second here I thought you were being helpful.

I saw Poldine eating brambles instead of broom as well. Bad Poldine!

Poldine recovered from this heartbreak after I let her sniff the snow boots I got for Christmas. Just like cats (her idols) she enjoys inspecting new things. (She also enjoys pulling on the laces delicately with her lips to untie them. This game never gets old, if you're a mischievous young llama.)

Anyway. The BroomSlayer 3000 works!! But it's hard work. I did not think it was going to be hard work, because the website made it look so easy.

I wanted to take a little video of me uprooting my enemies but then I thought an illustration would better convey my emotional state—there was a demo video on the gardening website which sells the BroomSlayer and it was the loveliest most bucolic scene, featuring a polite tree who basically picked up its skirts and scampered away with a contrite gasp the minute it realised its presence was unwanted. I really thought uprooting things was going to be a picnic, because I am not immune to propaganda.

To be fair to the gardening website, maybe it's just broom. With that said, it's incredibly satisfying to pull on the handle and hear the delightful sskkrrhh sound of roots being violently torn out of the ground. It's an exhausting whole-body workout but eventuaIly I will grow stronger than broom. I made a murderous Veni Vidi Vici playlist to put myself in the right mood and with this musical support and my new antibroom weapon I will prevail.

[amazing-spiderlad]

I'm just posting this in case anyone hasn't seen it

LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT CHICA'S EARRINGS, THEY'RE CHRISTMAS TREE ORNAMENTS! LOOK AT ROXY'S OUTFIT- THEY ALL HAVE SO MUCH DRIP! GREGORY LOOKS LIKE A SWEET LITTLE KID INSTEAD OF THE SERIAL KILLER HE PROBABLY IS!