popcornsupernova

[popcornsupernova]

day 29

she is trapped in the loop in submachine... will they break out?

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Wato edit I crode

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Haven’t been able to draw too much recently ……

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poetic way to die ig

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got an idea for an animatic

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Another request I have: Clone Wifies getting put into parkour civilization

how did he get there? where is he going? why does he seem to remember some things but not others? who knows. set in the like week between evbo becoming the pk champion and pk god.

Word count: 685

The world is strange. It reminds Wifies vaguely of the Farlands, in that the generation is just weird. He hops across one block gaps with ease, looking for. . . anything? It’s mostly just empty houses until he comes across a large, looming building with. . . a parkour course?

With nothing better to do, Wifies ascends the parkour staircase.

It’s a simple thing, with no strange or complex jumps. He makes it to the top breezily and enters a new room.

“Congratulations Noob,” someone says nearby, scaring the shit out of him. “Welcome to the Pro level.”

“Uh,” Wifies blinks at the man. “Thanks? What am I. . . supposed to do?”

“Get some food, dump your old boots in the lava, and jump over for your iron boots,” the man says.

“What old boots?”

“Your leather boots, obviously. What are you waiting for?”

Wifies has no clue what the hell this guy is talking about, but he nods and does as he’s told. He takes some cooked steak, stares absently at the lava pit, and then jumps over the one block gap. Dispensers equip him with cold, iron boots as he steps out into a room with giant statues that tower above him. There’s one made of diamond that boasts a green, black, and white headband interestingly enough.

What the hell has he gotten himself into?

There’s no way out except forward, into another strangely generated world. When he glances through the widened gaps between grass blocks, he can see the area he just left. At least here, there’s more activity— there are people wandering around, chatting, living life.

And there’s a guy with a green, black, and white headband. Seems like in there is anyone to ask, this guy might be it. As Wifies makes his way over, he hears the conversation the green-black-white guy is having with another, more simply dressed man.

“—I just think ranking up might be too hard,” the man in grey is saying.

“Just because something is hard, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try!”

Good advice. If Wifies didn’t try, then he’d be dead.

“Um, excuse me,” he interrupts, voice a little shot. “Sorry, I think I need help?”

They both look at him. Wifies thought he’d be used to the feeling, but they stare at him with a particularly intense gaze that leaves him uncomfortable in his own skin.

“I don’t know where I am,” he says very, very slowly, eyes darting between them. “Um. Like I seriously— I remember where I was before, but not how I got here. That must be really strange to hear.”

“Probably Seawatt’s fault,” green-black-white says with a frown. “Do you remember Seawatt?”

Wifies snorts, covering his mouth.

“Sorry. Uh, yeah. Press F5. Of course I do.”

“Press F5?” the man in grey repeats. “That doesn’t sound right.”

As if a physical weight has dropped onto him, Wifies realizes he’s somehow made the wrong choice. The two jump over the gaps to get closer to him.

“It doesn’t. What do you remember?”

“I remember. . . Ken. Kenadian? And we were. . . I was getting hit by arrows. And. . . that’s it, actually. Everything else is blurry.”

“Strange. Evbo, I think something weird is going on here.”

“Definitely. Hey, you—”

“Wifies. I’m Wifies.”

“Wifies. Nice to meet you! I’m Evbo, the new Parkour Champion. If you come with me, I think I can help with your whole memory thing,” Evbo pauses, scrunching his face up. “But we’d have to travel to Seawatt’s old lab. The parkour path there might be too hard for you.”

“Can’t be worse than anvil jumps,” Wifies says. “Nothing is worse than anvil jumps, I think.”

“What are anvil jumps?” the man in grey and Evbo say.

“Um, when you place an anvil above you and jump on it while it falls. It gives you a chance to boost onto a ledge. They’re— finicky, to say the least.”

Evbo gets a strange look in his eyes, like Wifies has given him an incredibly valuable gift.

“I’ll help you with your memory problems, but you have to teach me how to make an anvil jump, okay?”

“Sure. Deal.”

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Concept where Wato doesn’t meet Wifies until after the End Barrens and when he sees him he’s just. Idek what she’d feel but there’s another drabble request 😭

i dont think i really understood this prompt super well??? so hopefully the fic came out fine :')

Word count: 394

Seeing another person is like a bruise. Their silhouette, their palette, their noise, it all aches fiercely. It’s even stranger that it’s Wifies. Wifies isn’t someone who has ever “hurt” Wato, not this particular Wifies at least. This is Wifies tamed, softened into putty between Wato and Ken’s attentions and care.

It shouldn’t hurt to see Wifies.

“Wato! You’re back.”

Wifies smiles, bedrock dust in his hair and redstone slipping through his fingers. Wato came looking for him. It was so odd, not having Wifies there. Ken left, but Wifies never came with them. Wato hasn’t seen Wifies in a hundred days. They can’t think of a stretch of time where they haven’t seen Wifies that’s even a fourth of that.

It was just Wato and Ken again for a while, how they'd been for so long. They both always had other friends, other circles, but like binary stars, they were always in step. But even then, even with the nostalgic familiarity, Wifies's absence had been palpable. Their quiet, reliable third was absent. Busy.

And then Ken had left, and there was no Wifies to soothe the argument or ease the loneliness. There had been nothing for 100 wretched days.

Wato hops down from the roof of the escape room Wifies is working on and lands near him. Wifies dusts his hands off and shakes his hair out, turning into a human plume of dust.

“How was it?” Wifies asks, getting closer. “Was it hard? Where's Ken?”

Wato opens their mouth to let out some kind of answer, but what comes out instead is, “I missed you so much.”

Wifies pauses, smiling shyly like he's surprised he's been missed.

“I missed you too,” Wifies says.

Would Wifies have stuck around if he'd been there? Would he have followed Ken out of spawn off to adventure? Would he have died and returned to spawn with stories, laughing quietly at how silly the whole thing was?

Would he have listened? Would he have been there to watch Wato succeed?

“I really, really missed you,” Wato says, voice cracking embarrassingly.

Wifies stops smiling. He reaches out and rests his hand on Wato's arm. Wato feels their eyes water. Throwing their arms around Wifies, it's all they can do to not collapse onto him in sobs. Wifies hugs him back, squeezing Wato tight.

Wato missed him so much.

[popcornsupernova]

kenifies + ken borrowing wifies clothes. if you would kindly

this kinda became a scent thing by the end LOL sorryyyyyy but pls enjoy some clothing borrowing shenanigans!

Word count: 478

Ken doesn’t check what he grabs before shrugging it on. He’s late, very late, he’s supposed to be letting Seawatt into his newest escape room, oh, about, twenty minutes ago? So he grabs whatever is on top of the clean clothes pile and runs out of the house, nearly losing half a nail to his desperate shoe-shoving.

When he arrives, red faced and sweaty, Seawatt gives him a once-over and lifts his hands up.

“Hey man, if you were busy. . .” he says with a shit eating grin. Ken flips him off.

“I don’t know what you mean but I get the feeling you’re being an asshole, so shut up.”

Seawatt laughs at him but doesn’t elaborate because he’s an asshole and now Ken is left wondering what he meant as he TP’s him to the starting room. Later, much later on, as Seawatt is struggling through the final room, Ken looks down at his shirt and realizes he’s wearing one of Wifies’s yin-yang sweaters. It’s thick and warm and smells like their house. The detergent they use is scentless, because anything stronger makes Ken sneeze over and over, but their house is always filled with warm bread and fragrant flowers, and he can just about pull those scents out of the fabric.

Seawatt’s words finally click and when he successfully escapes, Ken silently punches him a few times.

When he gets home, Wifies is there. He’d been off for a while, dealing with Unstable business, but now he sits in their kitchen playing music and poking at the top of a pumpkin pie.

“Hey,” Ken calls out.

“Hey! Welcome home.”

Wifies kisses Ken before anything, smiling warmly before glancing down at his shirt.

“Oh? What’s this?” he says with a little sly grin, pinching a sleeve between his fingers and tugging at the fabric.

“I was in a rush and it was at the top of the pile,” Ken complains, but he doesn’t really mind when it comes from Wifies.

“Dang, and here I thought you were missing me,” Wifies sighs theatrically, kissing the tip of Ken’s nose and turning back to his pie.

“I did miss you,” Ken peeks around him to watch him cut the pie up into slices. “But it’s not like this even smells like you anymore.”

“Hm? What do I smell like then?” Wifies grabs two plates and places a slice on each.

Ken leans in and sniffs at Wifies’s shoulder. He travels up his neck, and Wifies just tilts his head to let him. He sniffs loudly into Wifies’s ear just to hear him laugh.

“Right now? Like rockets. Kinda gross.”

“The smoke must still be in my hair.”

“Under that, hm. . . A little like citrus and salt.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It’s very nice,” Ken sniffs at him again. “Actually, gimme that shirt. Wanna smell like you.”

“Buy me dinner first, Ken, jeez.”

[popcornsupernova]

Drabble request for Wifies getting Omz Masked because I need suffering

I had a weirdly hard time with this one and im not sure why...... I hope it's still alright :') does this tie in with the other omz mask request? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'll let you guys decide.

Word count: 319

It's unnervingly quiet. The mask is usually quiet, at least as far as Ken remembers; it doesn’t necessarily need to talk to get what it wants. But he doesn’t know what it wants, and it’s just looking at him, head tilted in a familiar, uncanny way. Seeing it in their shared world is—

Seeing Wifies’s eye so dark and empty is disturbing. He’s someone who’s always thinking, always moving in his own mind, and yet he looks almost corpse-like with the mask on.

“What do you want?” Ken asks.

The mask has a crack along the jaw. Ken isn’t sure where that came from. Honestly, he thought the damn thing was indestructible, but now it wears evidence of real damage. Who could’ve broken it like that? Where has it been?

“This vessel is a poor one,” it says in Wifies’s voice. “It lacks much of the skill and force other vessels have.”

“So you want a new one?” Ken can do that. As awful as it sounds, Ken can make it happen. As long as he can have Wifies back—

“No.”

—Okay. Less to work with.

“It can be made better.”

“I can’t let you do anything to him and you know that.”

Wifies’s mouth smiles and then drops away.

“Is it a bad thing, to make it better?” the mask asks. “This body hurts. It falls apart easily. It lacks.”

The mask pauses. Ken keeps still.

“You care about him, don’t you?” another flickering grin. “You care about me, don’t you? I’m your Wifies after all. Can’t you make it better?”

Ken is going to throw up. He feels it rise from his stomach and fights to keep it down, fights away the nausea, the spotting in his vision. His Wifies, sickened with Ken’s sin. Wifies’s footsteps are thief-quiet as he gets closer and closer, exposed eye half-lidded and brow furrowed.

“Won’t you make it all better Ken?”

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For the request thing can you do an expansion on that fic you made with post-eb100 wato and wifies I really loved that one

a small expansion on the eb100 oneshot !!! I do want to give a proper expansion a shot, but for now this is what ive got :') set right after the end of the original oneshot.

Word count: 620

Wifies is a quiet guest. Wato already knew this, but it’s even more emphasized by the way night blankets the world in silence that Wifies blends right into. He’s staying the night, and Wato hadn’t even had to ask— maybe the whole crying on him was a question itself, and this is Wifies’s answer to it.

“Sorry if it’s a little dusty in here, I haven’t had guests in a while,” Wato opens the guest bedroom and shuffles around it, looking for anything obviously out of place or dirty. “I’ll change the sheets. Do you want to shower?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Wifies says. “But you’ll have to lend me clothes.”

“Of course! I’ll put your clothes to wash and dry too, if you want, so they’re all fresh for tomorrow.”

Wifies smiles at them. The way he’s trying to hold eye contact is so sweet, though all it does is make Wato realize how much they were relying on Wifies dodging their gaze. They’re trying to not react at all, not shiver and bare their teeth, because every flash of violet brings them back, reminds them of those wretched endermen.

How much longer will it take? Wato can’t be unpleasant forever. They can’t. Especially not to Wifies. They don’t want to be unpleasant to Wifies.

“Let me— I’ll grab everything, wait here.”

Wifies steps aside and lets Wato leave him behind. Wato digs up a towel and some sweatpants, and struggles to find a shirt that’ll be soft enough to sleep in that will also fit Wifies. Wato’s always been taller than him, but Wifies has put on considerable muscle from his stints with Parrot. They end up picking something soft and pink and wide, folding everything up and handing it to Wifies.

“Thanks. I won’t take long.

With Wifies squared away, Wato gets to cleaning the room up. Bed sheets first, then dusting off most of the surfaces and wall decor, replacing some burnt out candles and fruitlessly bonemealing a wilting tulip in a pot. Wato can hear Wifies’s bare feet hitting the wooden floors, so his body at the doorway doesn’t startle them for once.

“I don’t think that’ll work,” Wifies says, rubbing the towel through his hair.

“Well, it was worth a shot.”

Wifies looks incredibly funny in Wato’s clothes. The sweatpants have some sloppy cherry blossoms embroidered on one leg, and the paleness of the pink shirt makes him look like he’s perpetually blushing under the lights. His little owl-eyed blinks don’t help with the whole innocent, messy look he has going on. He looks like he belongs in Wato’s space, less like an invasive voidling and more like the guy who slips into tight crevices in escape rooms for Wato and lets Wato test traps on him when they’re bored. He looks like Wifies, dulcet and dampened.

“I’m really happy you’re staying,” Wato says suddenly. “I’m really— I appreciate it. I know you’re busy working on videos and stuff.”

“Never too busy to stay,” Wifies says, glancing down, embarrassment turning him pinker.

Wato wants to eat those words. Never too busy to stay. They warm Wato from the inside, bring a boiling heat to their fingertips, and Wato can’t help but reach out to pull Wifies in close, hug him all over again.

They have learned one thing well: when someone says something that sounds too much like what you want to hear, make sure they’re real.

Wifies is real. He’s a real weight against Wato’s chest, smelling flower-petal fresh, like Wato’s soap and shampoo and conditioner, though that staticky citrus spark still lies beneath. Better that it remain, even if it evokes the image of chorus fruit; he’s more real because of it.

[popcornsupernova]

Accidentally left asks off oops

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hi saiint! i would tell you to write evil kenifies to your hearts content as i said i would but i need some sugar. write them trying to draw one another and being cute, i dont know

dont you worry, other people have the evil on lock this time around :') here's some ken and wifies drawing!

Word count: 524

Ken’s tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth as his pencil scratches on the paper in front of him. Wifies does the same in front of him, a stack of books haphazardly set between them so as to not look at each other’s work. Their kitchen table is covered in paints and brushes and pens, a cacophony of art materials that they were playing around with.

It’s hard to think that Wifies had never just. . . messed around with art before.

Ken hasn’t always given much thought to these kinds of experiences, so intrinsic and natural to life— everyone has fingerpainted on their floor and drawn in the margins of their homework and braided friendship bracelets at school, haven’t they? But not Wifies. So they’ve been playing around with art all day, and now they’re drawing each other on a time limit. Thirty minutes, just a pencil, do your best, have fun!

Ken’s sketch of Wifies is. . . wonky. His nose is a little too offset to one side, and his mouth just doesn’t look right, but otherwise Ken thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. The eyes even match! When the timer runs out, their comms blaring in sync, he feels satisfied.

“Pencils down!” Ken says with a grin.

“It’s down, it’s down.”

Wifies has a smear of paint on his arm, and what looks like charcoal smudged on his jaw. He looks cute. He looks somewhat like a kid discovering that he can make things pretty for the first time. Ken likes it.

“Ready?”

“Yup.”

“Three, two, one, reveal!”

Ken holds his sheet up towards Wifies over their makeshift barrier.

Then he sees Wifies’s art and his jaw drops.

“That’s so cute,” Wifies says, taking the sheet out of Ken’s hand with a blooming smile. Ken silently takes Wifies’s art in hand. “I love it.”

“What the fuck,” Ken says eloquently.

It’s a beautiful monochrome sketch of Ken. It looks just like him. Like, honestly, it’s kind of mind boggling how accurate and good it looks. This is unfair.

“This is unfair,” Ken says out loud. “How is it this good? How are you this good at drawing?”

“You like it?” Wifies asks. He keeps tracing his fingers over Ken’s shit-ass drawing.

“Wifies, what the hell, this looks amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Mine looks awful next to this.”

“Noooo, no it doesn’t look awful,” Wifies holds Ken’s drawing to his chest as if Ken will snatch it away from him. He might. “I love it. You made it for me, and I love it. Don’t be mean to it. It’s beautiful.”

Ken blushes, because he’s stupid and easy. Wifies sounds so sincere and sweet, eyes wide as he watches Ken for any sudden snatching movements.

“It’s fine, I guess,” Ken grumbles and sinks back into his seat, looking at Wifies’s drawing of him.

There’s something. . . loving about it. The idea that Wifies has looked at Ken so often and catalogued so much of his appearance, to be able to draw him so well. . . Ken isn’t immune to tenderness, though he’s very much allergic to it.

He’ll find a good place to keep it.

[popcornsupernova]

holy what the fuck i need more

ASJDKNSALK SORYR IM BACK AM I TOO LATE. i seekomz mask ken. . .. . ..,,,.,ifyour reqs are closed it's gen OKAY BUIESHK FHAIDKJBHDSHJKFADGUVBVS HVHCD HKBJSC ADHA BSBKHCJN SBJCHDN JN DBSADN CBDJKLADVZHJKLDMADJKMN D

you were, in fact, too late for the original request period, but this made me laugh real bad so im christening this round of requests with it. to everyone who has been waiting diligently, i present to you: omz mask Ken bullying Wifies in an escape room. enjoy!

Word count: 995

He’s sloughing off skin next to this deep, bubbling lava pool. It's a disgusting feeling, like he’s going to melt into a puddle of sludge if he stands here any longer; he thinks about Ken traversing the Nether with banners, lava lapping at the fraying fabric edges, and garners a new appreciation for what Ken is willing to go through for a good puzzle.

“You’re cute when you’re thinking hard.”

That’s not Ken, he tells himself. It’s not. It’s not Ken, even though it sounds like him. It’s not Ken, even as Ken’s green and yellow sneakers dip into his sightline, even as he looks up and sees the familiar stack of hoop earrings on his green ear.

The mask is a powdery white, like fungal spores, like sickly pale moss, like a spreading infection that saps all the warmth out of the exposed skin of Ken’s face. He’s smiling, cheek bunched up and lip barely visible in its arc, but his golden eye is empty.

“Stuck?”

Wifies is trying to channel some of that infamous stubbornness everyone says he possesses. He doesn’t glare or rise to the bait, has been as diligent as possible in doing this by himself, even though his body is starting to ache and his mind is slowing down. Sure, he was made for this kind of thing, but it’s been hours— probably closer to a full day than not, though the sun doesn’t move here. It’s all bedrock and barriers and sunshine that makes his eyes sting.

“You’re so quiet!”

Ken— not-Ken— the body lounges in mid air, tail swaying imperiously as Wifies is looked down upon. An ear flicks, the clicking of hoops filling the air. Wifies keeps poking through his inventory over and over, trying to figure out what he’s going to do to get across the lava. Blocks rotate in his grip, a splintering wooden sword landing last.

“Oh no, are you mad at me? Is that it? I know it’s a hard puzzle, but you’re smart.”

He sounds smiley, the way he does when he knows he’s made something that’s going to drive Wifies insane. Wifies is so prone to binary thinking in these rooms that it’s easy to turn him around if it’s a puzzle that’s unintuitive enough.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

That mask fills his vision, upside down and as sickening as ever. Wifies can’t control the way he flinches. The gold eye squints the way Ken always does when he thinks Wifies has done something particularly affection-inducing.

“Heh, cute. The secret is this: you can’t get out of here.”

Wifies doesn’t believe that. He can’t believe that, more than anything.

“It’s so sad that you won’t talk to me,” a hefty sigh, ears pinning down. “Maybe if you did, I could’ve told you that you left behind some important blocks. Conserve resources, Wifies, when will you learn?”

He wants— something just as hot and awful as the lava fills him. He’s not the only stubborn one.

“What the hell is your problem?” Wifies finally snaps, taking a step back.

“Problem? I’m golden.”

Those sneakers thud as they land on bedrock, heavy and casual. Wifies steps back, and back, and back until his back hits a wall.

“Be more specific,” it tilts its head, curious and playful and not Ken.

“Why are you doing this? Putting me through escape room after escape room?”

“I’m not the one who wants to do that,” it clicks its tongue. “I’ve already seen you do this rat race again, and again, and again. Him, on the other hand. . .”

There’s that smile again. A clawed finger presses into his jaw. It’s cold and sharp. A reminder.

“He’s so fascinated by you. It was easy. All I did was—”

It’s a horrible, delicious crack. The pommel of the sword lands true— he’s better at this than Ken probably realized, movements honed, violence desensitized— and the body flails. Flipping the sword in his hand, the flat part of the blade becomes his bat as he swings again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and—

And it cracks in half, despawning over Ken’s bloody head, mask dislodged in the assault. He ignores Ken. He has to ignore Ken. He’s been ignoring Ken this whole time. He can ignore him for a while longer. He can ignore the gored heap on the floor that is Ken. He can ignore Ken and the welts swelling up on his palms and the wet, slick feeling of viscera on his face. He picks the mask up.

It trembles. Or he trembles. It’s impossible for him to tell.

There’s a saturation beacon somewhere nearby. He has to be fast.

He makes his way to the edge of the lava pool and falls to his knees next to it, eyes on the mask the whole time. He closes his fingers through the eyehole tightly. He dunks his hand and mask into the lava, keeps going down until it’s to his elbow, and holds.

The smell of burning flesh is something beyond nauseating. It’s inhuman, is what it is, a violation of natural order and harmony. But Wifies keeps his arm in it until he can’t anymore, until the muscles in his hands spasm and burn away and the mask drops into the bottom of the pool.

It takes everything he has left to not fall head first into the pit. He sways backwards and lands on the floor, pulling his hamstrings as he fails to straighten his legs out. It's just one more pain to register, between the burning in his body and the burning of the sun. He hasn’t slept in days, he’s pretty sure. Rolling onto his good side, he watches Ken’s body, watches it jerk and stutter as saturation forces it back together.

His eyes feel heavy. He closes them, just for now.

[popcornsupernova]

Drabble about Ken supporting Wato in their memory issues after the mask since he’d know what it’s like

how long do you guys think it took Ken to remember everything post-mask???

Word count: 428

The memories are a rare occurrence. They come, and then they don't go, a car wreck Wato can only watch happen to their own mind without any input. They can't control when they return, or when they don't. There's no amount of willpower that will force them back into existence.

At least one clone died to a design flaw.

The memory bursts into Wato's mind as they lay out some bedrock. There had been some kind of— the clone would have to boost over a wall using damage boosting, but the timing and dimensions had been wrong, or—

The memory is incomplete. All it brings with it is the burnt corpse of one of the clones, unsuccessful in its escape attempts. Wato doesn’t know how long they spend just standing there, staring blankly at the bedrock they just placed down, replaying the memory over and over, a fraction that can’t be placed in the larger puzzle of everything else that’s missing. What day was it? How far into being masked was it? What number was that clone? Nothing else comes to them. It’s all blanked out. It’s just the corpse left.

“Wato.”

Wato doesn’t flinch. It’s just Ken. It’s Ken, and they were working on a room together.

Ken presses a hand to the back of Wato’s shoulder. It’s not a push, but a weight, something to center their thoughts around.

“Sorry,” Wato says slowly, words syrupy, tongue heavy. “I just remembered something.”

“What was it?”

Ken’s hand begins to move in small tight circles.

“One of the clones.”

Ken’s hand doesn’t stop. Warmth spills out from the spot, filling Wato until they feel like they can move again. Wato turns to look at Ken. Ken doesn’t stop his ministrations, just half smiles at Wato, eyes a little sad.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It died. I think. . . I think I made the room wrong. So it was doomed to die. But I can’t,” Wato pauses and looks back at the bedrock they placed down. “That’s all I remember. It died. I don’t know what I did before, or after.”

“Sometimes things don’t come back all together,” Ken says. “It’s better to not get stuck on it. The rest of the memory will come back eventually.”

It had taken Ken months to get most of his memories back, and he hadn’t worn the mask for nearly as long as Wato had. Wato doesn’t point that out. Instead, they stand in silence together, Ken’s hand a constant anchor to reality, until Wato can shake off the impossible vertigo of the whole situation.

[popcornsupernova]

Any minecraft series ever

i love when fandoms r based around something that has really simple character designs bc you compare the fanart to the base media and it's like the most extreme case of yassification youve ever seen

[popcornsupernova]

I mean- I don’t want to be rude, do you want to build one too?

No, I’ll leave it the professionals, don’t worry.

Sure?

…yeah, positive.

Obsessed with the idea that Wifies (and by extension part of Wato herself) was trying to protect Wato from the fact that he wasn’t real, not for fear of Wato knowing he was a hallucination but because some part of them (the part that manifested as wifies) knew he wouldn’t be around anymore if they did. Like breaking a mirror. The illusion is shattered and it isn’t coming back no matter how much you want it to. I like to think 'Wifies' was trying to protect them from that.

[popcornsupernova]

What if we were both doomed clones made for the sole purpose of farming content to get the highest viewcount just to be killed off after our purpose was served and we both wore headbands