#Twisty the candy

[marystaceylala]

[catlover4536]

TRICK OR TREAT!!! GIMME A TREAT!! (no tricks..)

HEH

[arytha]

[ID from ALT: A digital fullbody art of my OCs, one of which is Epoch's Maker in a hooded cloak, and the other is Era as he appears in his first life. Era is positioned mostly with his back to the viewer, prevented from turning fully towards the viewer by the Maker, who is gripping his arm. Era's eye, with his face in profile, glances forward. The Maker is completely turned away from the viewer, his cloak a blend that starts with white and cream colors on the top, and ends with blended streaky red and blue panels with defined, rounded black edges at the bottom. Era's complexion is more ashen than normal, and he is dressed in the same cream color as the Founder, with white pants. The background is white save for a simple pale red and yellow aurora. End ID]

Remember. This is for all of us.

[kpop-bbg]

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。this feeling inside of me— | gojo satoru

wc: 1.5k

summary: you make gojo realize that this twisty-pop!-y feeling in his stomach might just be jealousy. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, mild jealousy, mentions of some of the students, lots of stifled laughs and held back grins!, mostly fluff really, gojo just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling! 

a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (this one), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (the next part), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! 

collection masterlist: conversations on love 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine <-you are here -> 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace?

Gojo’s been… hovering lately.

He hangs around you a lot more than usual, following your footsteps around your apartment as if he didn’t just spend the night and stay in bed with you all morning. 

You’d think that’d stop at work, but nope. 

For someone who hates sitting still, Gojo’s spending an awful lot of time doing nothing while watching you rifle through folders and documents you’re meant to type away. He sits by the chair in front of his desk, feet propped up and fingers tapping on the wooden surface enough to push you just to the point of going a little crazy. 

Tap.

You could have sworn you’ve read this line already. 

Tap.

This paragraph feels entirely too familiar at this point. 

Tap—

“Satoru,” you sigh, smile half-annoyed-half-guilty as you switch your attention to the man in front of you, “do you have extra work to finish today?” 

You’re trying to ask kindly, after all, Gojo rarely chooses to sit by the paperwork he’s been assigned to do (even though he doesn’t really do any of it because it’s mostly left to you). 

He stops tapping, moving to rest his cheek on one hand as he flashes you a grin so lovesick you think it’s infectious—the corners of your lips are curling up too. 

“Just working on spending more time with you.” 

Of course he says something like this; the most powerful man in jujutsu society transformed into the ever-charming sweet-talker that being your lover brings. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you chuckle—the look on your face a reflection of his. As annoyed as you are that he’s distracting you, you’re endeared. 

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know.” 

Today is his day-off after all. 

He hums, eyes set on you with cerulean sincerity, “It’s boring without you, though.” 

Strands of white fall to kiss his eyelashes and you reach forward to brush them off—his hair is getting longer now, you note. No doubt he’s going to ask you to accompany him for a haircut soon. 

His nose scrunches under the space your fingers hover over and you draw them back, “Clingy.”

—which he’s always been, but even moreso lately. You don’t know where all of it is coming from, how it’s even possible for him to be clingier than normal, but the past weeks have definitely shown you that he is more than capable. 

Gojo loves grocery runs, but only when he’s able to wander around the breakfast and candy section while you go through the long list of essentials and ingredients that need stocking up on. 

Not last week though. 

Instead of beelining straight towards his usual spot, he stayed right where you were, pushing the cart whenever you needed him to and reaching up on the top shelf for things you’d normally have to ask some other kind sir to get to. He stays close to you, body draping over yours as you line up for the checkout queue—long limbs, long torso, long everything engulfing you.

It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru, but the days after that find him following you everywhere—picking you up after pottery with Megumi (as if you can’t make it back home alone), insisting on doing a taste test on cooking lessons with Inumaki, and even joining you on that afternoon yoga class you reserved for (initially) just you and Yuuji. 

You wonder what’s causing this, why he’s acting this way lately.

“Well, I have to be or else Yuuji might really steal you away from me.” he jokes, elbows propped on the table as he rests his chin on clasped hands. 

You know that he isn’t actually threatened by Yuuji—just that he wants more attention from you, some that you give to the pink-haired boy too eagerly and so easily. 

Still, it’s weird whatever he’s feeling right now, a bundle of unrest bubbling in his stomach these days. He isn’t familiar with it, doesn’t really know what to call it, just that he knows when it hits—like knots waiting to pop at any minute.  

You stand up from your seat to make your way to him, glancing at the clock across the room; you suppose there’s no point trying to squeeze in any more work for the last 20 minutes before you’re set to clock out. 

Gojo pats his thigh, as if beckoning you to sit; he manspreads like crazy but you think it makes sense for moments when he wants to hold you like this. 

Once you position yourself on his lap, he snakes an arm around your waist as you sling yours around the back of his neck, landing a soft peck at the tip of his nose. The hand resting on your hip rubs gently. 

“Is that comment still bothering you?” you ask, scratching the short buzzed hair of his undercut. 

You catch his eyes then, sky blue with a troubled sea.

Now that he thinks about it, it probably did start with the videos. 

Gojo Satoru is a man of many accolades: the strongest, a lone child prodigy, the best teacher (self-proclaimed); at some point he was also the world’s saving grace, and you’d think after that he’d decide to lay low for a bit, have a change of pace—but no.

The man you love has also, apparently, become a social media heartthrob after garnering attention for vlogging your dates. For the memories, he had said, but of course, it’s never just that when he’s as pretty–if not prettier–than the models you see on magazines and billboard posters. The video goes viral and suddenly you’re made very aware of just how coveted he is across all generations. 

He feels the first pop! in his stomach when he finds the comment under a 10-minute video of your day out in the park. He blacked out, he’s sure, but some loser said something about how you were so hot and completely out of his league.

As if he doesn’t know that already, but it’s how confident user ManInATux69 typed that you should just leave Gojo and be with him instead. That one stung a bit; maybe even got to his head, and it’s ridiculous because it really is just some faceless person on the internet. 

But maybe that’s really how this feeling started. 

“Of course not,” he pouts, eyes avoiding yours as he looks to the side, brows furrowed.

You stifle a giggle as you wait, biting the insides of your cheek as you stare at him. A mental countdown until—

“Maybe a bit.” he mumbles after a few blinks, pout deepening as he turns to you. He always comes around to tell you the truth, without fail. 

It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru. Your Satoru.

“You wanna tell me how you’re feeling exactly?” 

If there’s one word Gojo will use to describe you, it will always be lovely. You have always been so gentle, so kind, never pushing, always asking lightly. 

You’ve sat through all his non-answers, so he thinks it’s just right, fair, that he gladly offers up his heart to you, now nestled into the palm of your hands as he lays all these feelings down, bare, intended just for you. 

He takes your free hand and places it right at his center, the space between his chest and abdomen. It’s warm as his hand dwarfs yours, forming it into a fist and twisting it into his skin. 

“Feels like a knot first,” he begins, before jerking your hand slightly as if to emulate a pop!, “then it pops.” 

And you think, that for all he sees and knows, it’s ironic that he can describe a feeling so vividly yet not know what it’s called—what it could possibly mean or be. 

“Do you think you’re jealous, Satoru?” you ask, smiling, fighting back a giggle (again), tone teasing. 

Hm, he thinks, is that what this is? 

Jealousy? 

He stares at you, lips parted slightly as you watch it register to him slowly. 

“Would explain why you’ve been hovering,” you chuckle, stroking small circles with your thumb. 

“I have not been hovering.” he snaps out of it, almost offended. 

You give him a look, eyebrow raised and mouth set in a smirk as if to say: really?

He relents, taking your hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Maybe a little.” 

Kisses are dotted along your knuckles, his eyes closed as if to ground him. You’ve known Gojo for so long that you can tell when he’s still figuring out how to say whatever it is he wants to—and your heart warms at the fact that this side to him is one he only entrusts to you. 

“There’s no competition, you know,” you whisper, the sky opening back to you, “I love you.” 

Your words are weighted, meant for him to hold and keep in the parts of him that doubt what he means to you. And it might sound a bit silly, to be this affected over a comment from some nobody, but you don’t want to leave any room for uncertainty—for your inaction to once again feed into his insecurity. 

He hums, soft vibrations flowing through his lips still pressed against your hand. Red is starting to bloom across his cheeks to his nose, and he mumbles, “Just want to be sure I’m good to you.”

a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the second part will be a bit darker, more serious, but will discuss more of where the feelings stem from in the first place! 

thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!! 

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter three

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 2.7k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | fluff | angst and i'm not comforting you this ch | lowkey unreliable narrator (jinx) | sexual tension if you squint | swapping spit with candy | beach episode | reader is implied to have big boobs | author attempt to write bpd splitting | reader and jinx get into an argument | not everything is sunshine and rainbows, friendship takes work and patience | not beta read | yes i am making this up along i go | PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS |

❛❛ OF COURSE, WE'RE FRIENDS ❜❜

WEEK ONE

after the two of you ran until the sunset it was awkward from there. jinx felt guilty— which she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. she practically begged you to be her friend and now chickening out like a pussy every time you get close.

she didn’t know how to be a friend. what does she do? give you hugs? scary!

you on the other hand?

you got comfortable immediately, going to the shop every day, hanging out with her rambling, and asking questions on her latest projects. jinx tried doing the same but there was this twisty turny feeling in her stomach when she tried. she was scared of how you would react.

she wants this. she wants your friendship, she needs it.

maybe it was because she finally cared what someone thought of her. someone that wasn’t silco or vi or isha.

she had to be vulnerable. 

fortunately, you didn't have any of it. you were the type of person to confront the problems ahead. communication was important to you which jinx hated, but appreciated simultaneously. it was beyond uncomfortable. at least it told her how much you valued this friendship between the two of you. you were willing to work things out.

“what does this device do?” your hand ran over the contraption, and with one move, you were covered in glitter. you slowly turned to jinx, looking at her with a deadpan, “don’t laugh—“

jinx nearly falls off her seat from laughing.  

this was painfully new to jinx. being called a ‘friend’, calling someone else her ‘friend’ was treading on unknown territory.

the way bubbles that formed in her heart the day she said yes burst every time you smiled at her as she ranted. that was sweeter than any candy you've given her.

you listen to her when she talks. you laugh at her dumb jokes. you walk with her around the plaza. you stay with her while she works on one of her (harmless) gadgets when you don’t have work. 

she was starting to understand the hype around having a friend. who knew sharing meals with someone made food taste even better? having a friend meant she could talk for hours on end and be met with a voice that wasn’t tearing her down.

is she doing it right? maybe. she isn’t sure herself.

grabbing a cloth, you wiped down your face. it didn’t help much. powder’s laughter wasn’t any help either. 

“you’re helping me clean that up, sprinkles.” powder tosses you a broom with a grin on her lips.

WEEK TWO

stalking your friend is totally normal. there’s nothing wrong in making sure your friend gets to work safely, especially when there’s a gang after her. besides, is it really stalking if she’s hiding in plain sight? she just so happened to blend in with the colorful scenery of flosnum. much like herself, flosnum loves colors.

pink and orange powder that you can get from kicking plot plants. beautifully painted murals. colorful homes. it was a colorblast.

and just like the good friend she is, she knows your schedule by heart!

you wake up around seven am, ready for the day at about eight-thirty, do a bunch of random stuff after that, and show up at her house or shop at eleven am to hang out. on weekends and wednesdays, you work the afternoon shift. mondays and fridays are your days off. the rest you work at night.

you can't blame her for it, she has no idea what she would do if you got hurt. she’s finally settling down, and that took 10 mental breakdowns.

sometimes, while following you, she'll get distracted and end up at the ice cream truck. after trying out all the poor old man could offer, cotton candy became her favorite.

what was she doing again? oh yeah!

your work was demanding, which is odd because she’s been at bars. hell, she grew up at one. she knew what they were like, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be what you were doing. she had never seen a bartender work so hard. powder was pretty sure the job wasn’t supposed to be this intense. 

SEVEN CHIMES was just like its home flosnum with a mature air. paper lanterns that would illuminate a variety of colors and shadows of white stars on the ceiling some days. weekends it would be packed and that was one of those days. 

you were exactly the same while you worked. the customers loved you. even if they were drunk, the only type of handsy they would get is an arm swing around your shoulder. 

your coworker, stella is what you called her, kept your eyes on you a bit too long. stella’s eyes trailed your body up and down before meeting powder’s.

they locked eyes. 

with a smirk, stella broke the contact eye.

.

.

.

okay, what the fuck was the smirk about?

powder slumps down in her seat from the corner of the bar. she already knew she wasn’t going to like her. who the hell did that girl think she was? does she want to fight? because powder will! feeling her eyes twitch she looked down to slip on her pink fuzzy drink.

“baby blue?”

jinx's eyes shot up to the voice. it was you! in all your glory, the blue light hitting your pretty dark skin, wearing that smile the same way you wore the stupid bronze turtle necklace around your neck. pretty.

after she was done checking you out a frog got fixed in her throat. she's been caught. wait! it’s not the end of the world yet. she could just brush it off as a simple visit! perfect plan.

“why did you tell me you were here?” you sit down on the opposite side of the table as her. “stella told me 'a certain blue-haired girl' had been 'keeping her eyes on me.'”

ohhhh, so that’s why she smirked.

snitch.

“just wanted a drink.” powder shrugs and keeps sipping down her drink. 

“you could’ve said hi, ya know? now i feel bad for you sitting here all alone.” you frown.

“you say that like i’m going type of loner!” powder scoffs. you raise an eyebrow as if you’re saying ‘are you not?’.

she furrows her brows, “i am not!” she defended herself.

“i never said—“

“you were going to!” 

you leaned back and sighed. that struck something in jinx. she’s got you annoyed.

shit.

now you were probably thinking of breaking it off with her and never seeing her face again. she should’ve known. she shouldn’t have gotten attached. “I’m sorry—“

“come on blue,” you interrupt her, getting out of your seat. “my shift just ended, and i’m starving!” you take her cold hand in your warm one, pulling her out of the bar.

WEEK THREE

blue was mysterious— was.

this girl bounced off walls. no filter. talks back to old mean people who gave you a hard time. she had to be constantly doing something or doing nothing. no in-between. you adapted to it.

she's unlike anyone you’ve ever met. 

the shop you gave her? now her hideout. she completely renovated it in her own style. remember that broken illuminating sign? now the sign had no words it was a…

monkey?

you think it was. you saw it often in her work. you’re guessing it was her signature. 

you liked moments like this. standing behind her, brushing her short hair mindlessly. her hair grew really fast, it was almost to her shoulders now.

jinx tinkered on the glitter bomb that exploded in your face three weeks ago. her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth in concentration.

it was odd. her hair. not that it was bad, she somehow pulled it off amazingly, but you can’t help but think that this was a recent cut. “why did you cut your hair this way?” you asked.

she pauses her work and looks up, leaning back in her chair to get a better look at you. “what, don’t like it?” your heart jumped at the sight of her.

she was so cute. wide pink eyes, blue eyeshadow, dark lipstick, and glitter stains on her face. 

“no, just curious,” you spoke softly. powder’s eyes trail away from you as she thinks about whether she should answer your question.

in the meantime, you noticed some dark grease on the corner of her mouth. it was nagging at you, she was dangerously close to eating it if she were to lick her lips.

taking your thumb you lick it and then wipe it off of her. the action caused her to scrunch up her face a bit but she didn’t pull away. “it was a weakness.” she answered your question, “my hair was wayyy too long, practically dragged it on the ground.” she shrugged still looking up at you. 

“plus, i needed some change.” jinx made her hand into a gun and slowly raised it up to you, “pow.” she pretended to shoot you. 

“shooting me now?” your voice amused, raising a brow at her.

“you should’ve dodged it,” she shrugs, looking back down to her work. she set it down on the workbench and spun her chair around, “now you’re dead,” she got up from her seat to get another tool. "sucker."

“i thought you liked me!” you grumble, her back was now turned to you. 

“just a little.” she plays into it and turns around. 

her eyes widened to see you point a sucker to her head, with a smirk on your face, “now, you’re dead.”

“oh, so that’s how you wanna play, princess?” she puts her hand on her hip.

“you started it, cutie.” you unwrap the sucker, placing it in your mouth.

she narrows her eyes at you with a frown. a cute frown. you could tell she wasn’t really angry. she takes the sucker out of your mouth and places it in hers. 

your breath hitched. this should not be affecting you the way it is. the heat that coursed through your body went straight up to your face. jinx leaning closer didn’t help, you could envision her tongue swirling around the candy.

oh fuck.

WEEK FOUR

the warm softly grainy sand slipped between jinx’s toes as she stood barefoot on the beach. the beach was bustling. children darting around, teenagers around playing volleyball, and locals dancing to the music that filled the air.

she sits down on the blanket you placed down. “you’ve gotten tanner, blue.” you say as you just finished applying sunscreen on yourself.

she didn’t even know what sunscreen was until she crashlanded her. “you used to be a ghost, now look at you.” she wasn’t tan, she was still pretty fair, but she wasn’t as white as a ghost the first time she got here.

you sat on your legs in front of her with your hand lathered up with sunscreen. you slowly approached her giving her the time to pull away. she didn’t. you applied the sunscreen on her tattooed arms.

jinx didn't need you to do this. she could’ve done it herself, but your touch was nice…

also because of the view it was giving her. “now, where have you been hiding these bazongas!?”

"I've had these the whole time" you deadpan at her, get up and crawl away to the other side of the blanket.

"never out in the open like this!" she bursts out laughing at your reaction. “wait, wait! come back, pretty lady!” she grabs onto your wrist, pulling you closer. 

she was terrifyingly strong for someone so thin. “you’re no better than a man!” you yelp but don’t pull away (not that you could). 

“can a girl appreciate some beauty?” she huffs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your back to her chest. “not my fault they’re right in front of me.” she pokes at them. jinx bit her lip to contain her laughter.

the clear blue water shimmered in the sun like it was a jewel. jinx clung onto your back, arms around your neck, and legs wrapped around your waist. fun fact! jinx can’t swim. “you’re such a baby.” you giggle, she puts her cheek on yours.

the both of you spent the time in the ocean teaching her how to swim or trying to kill each other by splash wars (you almost went blind because of her).

it was sunset. the both of you laid down on the blanket under you, looking up into the now pink sky. powder held onto your hand and you gladly held it with the same intensity.

“i like this, toots.” she turns her head to you but you don’t seem to notice. your eyes were fixated on the sky, you hand slightly loosened your grip.

your face drops into an annoyed expression, “i like this too.” foolishly you let out a tired sigh.

jinx's mind swirls.

she lying to you! she doesn’t mean it, do you see the way she replied? you’re such an idiot for trusting her. she’s probably only hanging out with you out of pity.

jinx shook her head, “you sure? you don’t sound like you did.” her voice offended.

you finally looked back at her. “sorry, baby blue. i’m just tired—“

she scoffs. “tired? tired of me? i thought we were having fun!” she sat up.

taken aback by her reaction you quickly backtracked what you said. you didn’t want to make this any worse. you got up to level with her, “no, no. of course not tired of you. i love hanging out with you, baby blue.” with that you seemed to get through to her, her face relaxed.

she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you.

jinx’s jaw clenches. why would you be tired of her? that doesn’t make sense! she’s made sure you had fun this whole time. yeah, at the beginning of your friendship, she chickened out a bit but you forgave her. yeah, she would pull stupid pranks but you love them. so why would you be so rude?

she looked into your warm eyes. “you’re lying to me!” she rips her hand away from yours. why are you lying to her? jinx’s eyebrows furrowed, jaw tensed and her forehead held creases.

“i’m sorry, blue. i just got stressed—“

“if you were stressed why would you come here in the first place? if you’re not having fun just say so, you didn’t have to fake it and lead me on the whole day.” she stood up and you did the same.

“what?” like an idiot, you laugh at the situation happening right now. “i never said all of that. honey, if you let me finish my sentence you would understand.”

now she’s laughing at you, she’s not even trying to hide it!

“shut up!” jinx shouts and you quickly pipe down. her breath came out in heavy pants. hands trembling over her ears. her mind was in overdrive. she was thinking about everything. about how you hate her. about how this was doomed from the start.

she should’ve known, no way someone would actually want a genuine connection with her. it’s not like you could ever understand her.

she points her finger out accusingly, “you think this is a laughing matter? you think i’m a joke!” 

your voice got caught up in your throat. this was insane. she was insane. she was just making up things on the spot to play the victim. you suck in a breath and shake your head. “what’s wrong with you?”

those words left like a gunshot to her heart. 

told ya.

jinx. 

not that you had to work hard to get to this point. wasn’t like she liked you to begin with.

hot, frustrated tears welled up in her eyes, her nails dug into the palm of her hand, letting blood drop freely onto the blanket under the two of you. an uncomfortable silence hung in the air, thick and stifling.

her glare at you intensified, a flicker in her pink eyes of… betrayal? a step back, followed by another, soon, she left you alone on the beach.

this was a mistake.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

[ultraericthered]

Out of four consecutive Disney Villains that were defined by plot twists regarding them, I've often thought: what made Turbo and the Cybug he merged with in Wreck-It Ralph work out so well and deliver a villain so infinitely stronger than the villains that followed? I'd concluded that mostly it was because Turbo got to be around as an active and characterized antagonist as King Candy and the twisty nature of his villainy was more comparable to Judge Doom than following the Stinky Pete, Henry J. Waternoose, and Lyle T. Rourke route of only being revealed as a villain in the third act and getting to be actively antagonistic for a limited time while taking on drastically different characterization than before like the later Twist Villains (or in Bellwether's case, in only the final minutes of the third act!).

But there was something else too, and it recently struck me.

Hans, Callaghan, and Bellwether all adhere to basically the exact same formula, with only the specifics of their roles differing due to each movie being a different type of story - Frozen is a fantasy adventure-thriller, Big Hero 6 is a superhero story, and Zootopia is a buddy cop mystery. The formula is that not only is the villain introduced as a friendly character in the first act and ultimately shows their true villainous self in the third act, but during the story there's another villainous character thrown at the viewer to serve as the red herring. In Frozen, it's the Duke of Weselton. In Big Hero 6, it's Allister Krei. And in Zootopia, it's Mayor Lionheart. All of these characters seem more like the sort of villains you'd typically expect to pop up in stories of these films' natures, radiating such obvious evil energy that the viewer is naturallly meant to have their suspicions drawn to them rather than the unassuming nice person who turns out to be the real villain of the piece. I'd argue it worked best when first tried in Frozen because the Duke ended up having absolutely nothing to do with the main conflict or how it got resolved, his main contribution being to tell two men to be prepared to kill Elsa at one point and that's it: he was a red herring in the purest sense. With Krei and Lionheart afterwards, they both had increased prominence in the narrative, the former being responsible for what drove Callaghan into grief-stricken, vengeful supervillainy, and the latter at first being Bellwether's boss and actually serving as a secondary antagonist in the plot with his unethical captures and coverups in response to Bellwether's Night Howler conspiracy. And they both are such obvious suspects for being behind evildoing even in-story that it loops around to becoming obviously NOT the true culprits at all. (Not helping is how both the Duke of Weselton and Allister Krei are voiced by Alan Tudyk, at the time still most known for King Candy/Turbo!)

Whereas with Turbo, I think it was so effective because it was sort of flipped around. The story was leading us to look at King Candy as the red herring or ultimately just the diversion, continuing to remind us that the Cybug that Ralph accidentally brought with him into Sugar Rush was lurking below and breeding, which we knew could become a true threat to the game and to the whole arcade world given the way Calhoun talked the Cybugs up. Even when Felix goes into the backstory of "Going Turbo", we're not really linking that to what's currently going on with King Candy, who we at that point had not been given reason to think is anyone but who he appears to be, and King Candy's such a silly, whimsical doofus of an antagonist that we suspect he'll amount to nothing more than food for the Cybugs. How King Candy goes on to manipulate Ralph and the revelation about him as a usurper turns our perspective of him on its head as is, but then it's revealed he's not just any usurpeeeer - he's Turbo! This on its own makes him that much more villainous, but then still we get the kicker: Turbo gets eaten by the lead Cybug, just as we might've predicted would befall him....and his code overwrites the Cybug from within, making him even more dangerous and malicious than ever! So while the Cybugs do indeed become the endgame threat, they're also used as the actual diversion to get you not looking harder at King Candy and figuring out both his true identity and his true nature as the primary, most menacing villain in this story. It is ingenious.

Pulling off a Twist Villain is easy. It takes a lot more thought, skill, style and polish to pull off a Turbo-Tastic villain as Wreck-It Ralph did.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Will, can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything.” He glances up from his clipboard, grinning wide and wry and sparkling. “Especially if it’s that you’ve got food.”

Nico knows his best friend, so he does have food; a pack of twizzlers the size of his face that he tosses, deliberately quickly, at his face, smiling to himself when he misses and dives down to grab it anyway. His clipboard clatters to the ground, pen bouncing after it, as he tears into it, inhaling at least ten twisty candies in half as many seconds.

“Gods, I love you,” he groans, mouth open like the disgusting mannerless loser he is.

Nico coughs. “Funny you should say.”

He’s spared from having to jump clear through the nearest window and landing right on his neck by the honestly uncomfortable noises Will continues to make — by the gods if he finds out it’s been another twenty three hours since William has eaten he is going to kill him and resurrect his skeleton for permanent manual labour — and instead worries himself with the first random task he sees unfinished. Do the kiddie Band-Aids actually need to be emptied from their boxes and sorted by size and vibe? No. But Will won’t stop him. And Nico needs, like, twenty minutes of recovery. So.

“What did you want to ask me, by the way?”

His mouth is still — somehow — full, so it sounds closer to whaa joo wanna asme. Nico, brave veteran that he is, feigns confusion.

“Hm?”

“Question,” Will swallows, an actual, audible gulp, gods, where have Nico’s standards gone, “that you had.” There’s the sound of joints cracking and a deep sigh, then quick footsteps, and then Will is in front of him, eyes squinted, mouth wide and crooked, leaning on the counter. He has been up before the sun and working the entire time, people pouring in and out like ants to an anthill, and Nico knows he has not rested, but energy still sparks all over his skin. He bounces, almost, from his frizzy ringlet curls to the balls of his feet, humming, twitching, moving.

“I.” Nico’s throat is dry, and his eyes move from the bandages, to Will, to the bandages. “Well.”

When Nico was a kid he would stutter over his words. He was a shit speaker. Bianca spoke four languages by the time she was six, and Nico could barely ever manage the one; he knew what he was trying to say, and he would say it, only somewhere along the way his brain sent the wrong sparks or maybe his tongue got twisted or maybe his mouth made the wrong shapes. Or he blended them all together, like ice sleet on helicopter blades, and everything left his mouth just fine but got smashed to bits in the air outside of him, never reaching his audience quite right. And then he was ten and everything he cared about was smashed to dust and he stopped caring about where the words got twisted and stopped relying on them at all, and stared, instead; glowered, let his face speak for him, even if they weren’t saying the same thing. It annoys everyone around him. It frustrated his mother and pisses off his father and annoys or frightens every other person around him, and everyone guesses, fills in the blanks, deciphers what he is going to say to make his presence just a little easier to bear.

But Will waits, rocking, as he always does, eyes flicking around the infirmary, a handwidth of space between them. Fingers, drumming on the curve of his thigh, too-big front teeth gnawing on his chapped bottom lip. Waiting. For the words, for the time, for the courage.

“I missed you today,” Nico blurts, and it isn’t what he meant to say, not by a long shot, but it’s an approximation and it will count. And Will is suddenly smiling, huge, too big for his face; beaming, brightly, beautifully. “I hate it when you work too long.”

“Yeah?”

Nico exhales, cheekbones ruddy. “Yeah.”

“That’s not a question, Neeks.”

“Oh, stuff it.”

Will laughs, then, and the room gets brighter, and Nico gets warmer, braver, and takes his hand. He walks even both out of the infirmary and Will goes willingly, even though there is work too be done, swinging their hands, and he talks, and talks and talks and talks, and then he waits, quietly, humming to himself, and Nico says nothing, although he thinks things, and Will acts like he has said them. And his palm is still rough and warm against his, and the sun is setting, and Will smells like artificial strawberry and lavender body wash, and Nico thinks, You can tell me anything, and he vows that he will. And he holds his hand, and squeezes it around his, and smiles, and waits, easily, contentedly.

[heartfullofleeches]

Ngl in my mind Twisters dick is a baloon

That is... extremely cursed. I need to draw ol Twisty the clown, but in my brain it has two tentacle dicks that are twisted into one.

Sorta like these candies

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

In Your Eyes

Steve Harrington x Best Friend!Reader

2.5k words

Warnings: Pining, fluff, tiny angst

You loved your job at Family Video. Movies were an obsession of yours, so having access to them at a discount was a great perk. The store was only a few blocks from your house, so you saved tons on gas and could easily bum rides off people when your dad couldn’t loan you the car. The hours didn’t suck, and the pay was decent. The best part of your job, however, was working with friends—except for the moments when Robin Buckley decided to tease you about your love life.

“You know, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you,” Robin piped up as the two of you grabbed candy from the back for a restock.

You shook your head. “Steve? Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

“Come on. He talks about you all the time, he lights up like a Christmas tree when you enter the room, he kind of can’t keep his eyes off you, he makes me switch shifts with him so he can work with you-”

“Yeah, because he knows he can get me to mop up at the end of the night,” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Robin smirked. “Because you’re in love with him,” she pointed out.

“In love with who?”

Steve Harrington stood in the doorway, sliding his Family Video vest over his shoulders, ready to start his shift. He cocked an eyebrow at you; you prayed that he couldn’t see how shaky your legs suddenly became.

“John Cusack,” you blurted out, shooting Robin a look that silently begged her to shut her mouth.

Steve nodded slowly. “John Cusack,” he repeated. “He was one of the geeky guys in Sixteen Candles, right? And he was in that movie you dragged me to like five times? The one where he’s got the boom box like this.” He lifted his arms in the air over his head, mimicking one of your favorite movie moments.

“Say Anything,” you confirmed softly, your heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of you. “Yeah, I loved that one.” 

The three of you stood in your small circle for a moment, Robin’s eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve as neither you said another word. These silences had been happening more and more lately; part of you wondered if Steve had figured out your feelings and was looking for a way to let you down gently.

In almost all your memories from the time you could walk up through middle school, Steve was there. Even when you wound up in different circles in high school, you would still find him climbing through your window in the middle of the night just to talk or share a snack or listen to music. It wasn’t something his girlfriends liked, but he always assured him that you were just friends.

Just friends. You hated the little twisty feeling that appeared in your stomach when you thought of those two little words. From the moment thirteen-year-old Steve had sat next to you on your bed and pressed his lips to yours for the first time, you were a goner. The funny thing was, you hadn’t even wanted to kiss him; you only agreed because he was your best friend, and he was begged you to let him get this milestone “out of the way”. But by the time he crawled back out your window and was scurrying across the street to his house, you were head-over-heels in love with the boy.

And here you were now, years down the road, still melting at the sight of his stupidly perfect hair and deep brown eyes. Another perk of your Family Video job.

“Well,” Robin finally said, clearing her throat. “Let’s get this candy out there before a customer comes in.” She gave Steve a gentle punch in the arm as the two of you walked past him. “See you out there,” she called over her shoulder as Steve moved to clock in.

As you and Robin walked back to the front of the store, she raised her eyebrows at you.

“You’re really obvious, you know that?” she scoffed. “I don’t get how he doesn’t know you’re nuts about him.”

“Robin!” you hissed, snapping your head towards the office door Steve would be coming through at any moment. “Please!” Robin rolled her eyes, but for once she shut her mouth.

~

“You need to tell him.”

You and Robin laid down on your bed, the English Beat playing on the record player on your dresser. Hanging out after work had turned into dinner had turned into a sleepover; it was just past midnight, and you were at the point of the evening where one of you usually blurted something out just to annoy the other one.

“Enough, Robin,” you muttered, rolling onto your stomach. Your eyes landed on your dresser, where a framed photo of you and Steve sat. It was from your first-ever middle school dance, which Steve had taken you to. Another first the two of you shared. You could still remember the weird feeling in your stomach when Steve placed his hands carefully on your waist during the slow songs; you now recognized that the feeling was butterflies. Almost as if your body knew how you felt about Steve before your brain did.

Robin followed your gaze and lit up at the sight of the photograph. “You two are adorable,” she mockingly gushed. She hopped off the bed and skipped over to the picture. Before she could lift it, she paused, and your heart froze when you remembered what was next to the picture.

A few nights ago, after pining particularly hard over Steve during a movie night, you had locked yourself in your closet and penned a letter to him. In it, you spilled your guts: I love you… I can’t stop thinking about you… I wish you would notice me… It was utterly cringe-worthy, and you had every intention of burning the damn thing. But of course, Robin found it before your lazy ass could toss it in the fireplace.

Her jaw dropped as she snatched the letter and her eyes scanned it quickly. You didn’t even bother getting up to fight her for it; it was nothing she hadn’t already heard you whine about anyway. She finally looked back up at you, her gaze softer now. You clutched your pillow and squirmed awkwardly.

“Don’t laugh,” you half-whispered.

Robin sighed. “Seriously,” she said gently. “You need to tell him.” She left the letter on the dresser and rejoined you on the bed, propping herself up on her elbow. Her devilish grin returned. “Or I will.”

~

The next morning, Robin woke up early and quietly left for her opening shift at Family Video, promising to see you later when you went in for your afternoon shift. So, you happily laid in bed for about an hour before deciding to get up and get yourself ready for the day. After a hot shower, you returned to your room and opened your dresser drawer. As you began to grab your things, you realized that something felt… off.

“Oh no,” you gasped as you scanned the top off your dresser. There were your perfumes… your jewelry box… the photo of you and Steve…

“Where’s the letter?” you choked out, scrambling to move things around, knowing full well that the letter was gone.

You sank to the floor, pulling your towel tighter around you, as if it would somehow protect you from what you knew would be impending embarrassment. “Robin,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

Just as you were planning your revenge, the phone rang. Your mother called your name, shouting that Robin was on the other end. You quickly grabbed the phone you had in your room and answered.

“Robin-”

“Heeeeey,” Robin greeted slowly as you both heard the click of your mother hanging up on her end. “Think you could come in a bit early? Steve, uh, called out today.”

Heat rose to your face. “Robin, did you-”

“Just, uh, come in, okay? We’ll chat once you’re here.” Click.

The tone of fear and nerves was not one you often heard from Robin. You resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall, hoping that somehow your best girlfriend had not destroyed your life.

~

A customer jumped at the sound of the slamming door as you entered Family Video. You made a beeline for the counter, where Robin was sorting a stack of videos. She winced at the sight of you, her cheeks turning deep red.

“Heeeeeey best friend,” she called in a hopeful, sing-song voice.

“Where is it?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure there were no customers in earshot.

Robin cleared her throat and shuffled her feet. “See, funny story….” She glanced up at the ceiling, as if the words she needed were typed above her head. “I kind of… gave it to Steve.”

Several customers looked up at the inhuman screech that came out of your mouth.

“What the hell, Robin?” you groaned, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why would you do that? What did he say?”

“Okay, so,” Robin started. “I, uh, gave Steve the letter in the office. And he read it, I guess. And then he came out and said he was going home… and just walked out.” Robin lifted her hands to her face, as if she thought you would hit her. Which, honestly, sounded like a good idea.

Your chest tightened with anxiety. “And?”

“That’s it,” Robin answered. “I haven’t heard from him since.”

Tears stung in your eyes. Great. Steve now knew you loved him. And he left work so he wouldn’t have to see you, so he wouldn’t have to tell you that no, he did not like you that way. He would probably go on yet another date and laugh about your stupid letter with whatever girl he had on his arm. And he would never, ever speak to you again, except maybe to ask you to switch shifts with him so he could go out with some beautiful girl.

“I’m so sorry,” Robin whispered, interrupting your panicked thoughts. The pain in her eyes melted your heart a bit. Deep down, you knew she had done what she did out of her affection for you. “I thought-”

Sighing, you shook your head. “Let me just clock in,” you said, defeat echoing in your voice.

~

After a long shift, an awkward dinner at Robin’s house, and a quick shower, you planted yourself on your bed, determined to distract yourself with a book. Through your closed window you could hear the distant sound of music as you finally hit a rhythm with your book, but it was muffled under the melancholy sound of The Cure coming from your stereo.

Two quick knocks at the door interrupted you. Your dad poked his head in, exasperation on his face.

“Honeybee?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

Your dad sighed. “Can you tell Steven to go home? I’m trying to sleep, and I have no patience for him and his antics right now.”

“Steve?” Your breath hitched slightly at the mention of his name. This was it. He was on your front porch, letter in hand, ready to confront you over your stupid, stupid crush and tell you that your friendship was over, that eighteen years of laughter and memories was down the drain because you couldn’t help yourself from writing that letter and Robin couldn’t help meddling.

You jumped out of bed and scurried past your dad, begging your heart to quiet down, praying that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was so loud in your ears that you once again were barely noticing the music that continued outside as you reached the front door. Taking a deep breath, you reached out and turned the doorknob.

As you opened the door, you finally recognized the sound of one of your favorite REO Speedwagon songs wafting across the yard to you. But your attention was focused on the sight on your lawn:

Steve Harrington, King Steve, your Steve, was standing in the middle of the grass, his hair more tousled than usual, with his arms in the air, holding up the boom box that usually sat in his room. From the boom box you could hear the words-

And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

You let your eyes wander down from the boom box to Steve’s face. At the sight of you in the porchlight, his whole body seemed to soften, and you swore you heard him let out a gentle sigh. You quietly closed the door behind you and stepped off the porch. Steve met you in the middle of the sidewalk, allowing his boom box to fall to his side and setting it on the ground between you.

“I couldn’t find that Peter Gabriel song,” Steve blurted, gesturing at the still-playing boom box. “So I thought… I mean you like REO, right? You play them all the time in the car.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, blinking rapidly and rubbing his fingers together.

You’d seen Steve flirt plenty of times with plenty of girls. He was confident, charming, funny, and incredibly sure of himself. He made jokes and smirked and offered sly compliments. And he often left the interaction with plans for a date, shooting cocky winks at you and Robin. But that wasn’t Steve right now. His eyes were full of uncertainty as they flickered everywhere but your own eyes.

“Steve, what’re you doing?” You took a small step towards Steve, trying to make everything make sense.

A flicker of that King Steve grin flashed across his face. “You said the end of Say Anything was the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen. So, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

In spite of your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile back. “And why in the world would you do that?”

“So I can do this.”

Steve took your face in his hands and tugged you towards him, pressing his lips to yours for the second time in your life. Just like last time, your heart skipped several beats and your mind was filled with nothing but Steve. Sighing into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling his body against yours, wondering how you’d survived going this long between lip locks with Steve Harrington.

When Steve finally pulled back, you both broke out into fits of shy giggles, giddiness evident on both of your faces.

“That was a hell of a lot better than last time,” Steve teased, giving your nose a small peck.

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a little shove. “Yeah, looks like you finally know what you’re doing, Harrington.”

His eyebrows flew up. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, pulling him back in for another kiss. “That’s how it is.”

[ranger-tater]

Horace Altman gives me those vibes of someone who always offers up their pocket knife/belt knife whenever the opportunity presents itself. Like it could be the one of those bread twisty things and he’ll hold out his knife for Will like a giddy school girl handing her crush a candy or sommet,

[hanasnx]

kendal whimpers and james praises. sorry i dont make the rules

can you believe my jaw dropped as soon as i read “kendall whimpers” shut the fuck uppp🥴🥴🥴

as soon as kendall’s putting it in, he’s making those delicate little sounds while you’re sitting down on it. bites his bottom lip hard while those pitiful noises spill out his throat. and when he’s about to cum and his tip is getting too overstimulated, he’s clutching onto you with his head buried in your neck whimpering over n over again right up until he comes and releases a big groan like he was holding it in

james just thinks everything you do is magic. you make a twisty little face because it feels too good? he’s telling you how pretty you are, how much he likes looking at you, how you’re eye candy he can’t believe people don’t fall in love with you at first sight. you back up on the dick? he’s telling you he loves it when you work for it, show him how much you want it. when he can fit you into all kinds of positions? he’s complimenting how bendy n flexible you are while he’s folding you in half

[kittycartoon]

💝🎀💖Cindy Hearts💖🎀💝

💝🎀Her backstory🎀💝

🎀💖she is a candy demon or devil ((doesn't matter anymore)) who was created by the devil to trick cuphead into falling in love so that he would fall for the trap. But the more cindy got to know cuphead she started to have a soft spot for him so she eventually betrayed the devil and ran off with cuphead ((then she started to get used to everyone in dlc))💖🎀 so yea she's just a really sweet person and kind now

🎀Voice claim🎀

80s strawberry shortcake ((I'm obsessed with strawberry shortcake and you can tell))

💖 Her likes💖

+ baking

+ Kittens

+ Pink

+ Cuphead

+ Adventures

+ Learning new things

💖Her dislikes💖

+Rotten food

+The devil (ofc)

+Mean people

+Candy corn

+Enemies

💝Some facts💝

+ She is part of a trio with Mugsy ((belongs to mugsy_here)) and twisty ((belongs to mayablueezz)). She is every sweet with them and always knows how to cheer them up

+ She has her own candy house that is based off of the one 1980s or 90s doll house

+ She has her own pet cat named sweets that she just found on a rainy day all alone and she adopted sweets

+ She is the girlfriend of cuphead ((basically a love interest)) for the show version of Cindy. Season 2 version they start to date

🎀💝💕So yeah she's just a sweet lil demon gal that loves to be kind and makes friends💕💝🎀

[emptyjunior]

First Commission Piece finished. Konfetti the clown , a crown of candy OC based on twisty candy, I Love a jester

[das-a-kirby-blog]

I LOVE THE CANDY KIRBY AU STUFF!!! Now I really wanna draw my own idea for Magolor, bc I personally love the idea of making him out of those twisty marshmallows with the pastel colors

heehee….. marshmagolor,,,,,,,,,

marshmagolor........

[i-am-thedragon]

Since the Cellystix snakification edits are taking a while, I figured I'd show off the Snakpod ones. I displayed them on Eggabell because she stays still, but unfortunately the lighting in her area isn't great lol.

The very first one I did was the Melty Snakpod, and that I think has the biggest visual change out of all of them, emphasising the chocolate more than the rainbow candy shells.

For the Grumpy Snakpod I tried to make it look more like the grumpus becomes made of a gummy substance, rather than being made of gummy grumpuses, though that's a little hard to get across without translucency. The grumpus skull headpiece was a must in any case, though.

It's not super obvious at a glance, but I chanced the Twisty Snakpod teeth to be little salt crystals. It's probably clearer on a grumpus with an overbite or underbite.

The Meaty Snakpod snakifications were originally gonna have antlers and a horned rhino beetle nose, but I felt they didn't fit much so the nose idea went to the cappucceetle and the antlers will be for the Cellystix horns.