#three dimensional yknow

[slydiddledeedee]

walk walk fashion baby work it move that bitch cuh-razyyyyy

[salemontrial]

Okay listen I know we all love Malakai here and of course so do I but can we at least acknowledge that he did Amerie dirty before their breakup. Like he was struggling with his sexuality and thats totally valid but he did not handle it well and yea he did gaslight Amerie about it, he did give her the world's mixedest signals, he third wheeled her on their own date to the guy he was into, like Amerie isn't perfect by any means but can we at least all understand that he did not treat her okay

[usamey]

ⓘ fun fact! i am literally william murderface 👍

[zoekrystall]

I am glad that the new event brought me the nice diavolo card..

but oh my god what the hell is this luck draw stuff I have such bad luck. Reg gacha and money (where I am as good as mammon) am I so glad I lost interest in the original (finally need to read some kinda recap bc I genuinely don't know what the hell some people in the fandom say) bc of pure interest suddenly vanishing like how the hell did some of you people deal with this. I rather have guarantee to get reward x at progress y than welp good luck pulling the cards and going to the next box. Pull 10? Or 100? Who knows!

-

Oh also like. I doubt I ever really talk abt chapters myself here. Or the events much so except reblogs maybe do I highly doubt spoilers will ever have to be feared

[cielles-random-vault]

brain empty just thoughts full of miguel having a soft spot for you and hobie's relationship

like if you were in different dimensions hobie would beg for miguel to let him visit you.

and if you were in the same dimension he would beg miguel to send him on missions with you

wait now i want to make it a lil fic

kind of a drabble? idk

ok afterthought this is way longer than a drabble lmao mb

word count : 561 😭

it was a peaceful day at the spidersociety's headquarters. all the anomalies you and hobie have caught while patrolling were imprisoned in their cages, you did your daily patrolling chores and now boredom seemed to have gotten the best of you.

sometimes when you're bored, you wonder what your boyfriend was doing. well, factually speaking he was not quite your boyfriend, because of his "i hate labels" stuff, but it was most likely the two of you had something

sadly you spent most of your time wondering how he was going. you couldn't communicate because your communicator broke and miguel decided hobie had to give his to you.

you know what? fuck that hierarchy thing, just because some vampire spider man didn't want you to multi dimensional travel doesn't mean you wouldn't.

you then left your small apartment and headed to the headquarters.

"don't even think of it." firmly said miguel.

"what? i didn't even say anything yet-" you say.

"your backpack. it's the one you always bring with you when i send you in missions with hobie. considering the disaster it made when i left gwen visit miles last time, i am not letting this happen a second time." he said firmly.

"please." you try to beg. "it has been weeks since you last sent us on a mission together. plus it's soon our birthday and we celebrate all of them together. please? i promise you won't hear anything from me next."

"fine" he sighed, "but only for three days."

"four days? please?" you try to negotiate.

(i don't know how to describe it but imagine him pinching his nose yknow the thing he did In the movie)

"if i let you go, will you stop harassing me ?" he asked, visibly annoyed.

"pinky promise!" you exclaim, "thank you so much!"

he then opened a portal which led you to your boyfriend's dimension. you walked a bit to the bar where he probably was, as usual.

once you arrived, riri, one of hobie's best friend, warmly greeted you.

"glad to see you around!" she says with a warm smile. "if you're here to see hobie, he's in the back!."

you then headed to the room in the back of the building. you did find him practicing with his band. taking care to not disturb them, you sat on a small table in the back of the room.

you couldn't help but admire him. despite everything he went through, he always kept going.

"hobes", said a member of the group."i think someone's waiting for you."

as soon as he noticed your face, you could see his instantly lit up.

once his practice went all smooth, the two of you headed outside. a fresh breeze greeted you as the two of you tried to catch up on the lost time.

"i can't believe miguel let you come there" he says in disbelief. "i ain't complaining though, i missed my sunshine a whole bunch" he continues before kissing you.

"i missed you too, hobie," you murmur with a soft smile.

the two of you kept wandering in the streets, talking about random things.

"you down for cuddles, sunshine?" he asked as you came back home.

the two of you sat on the floor, your head on his chest, feeling his soft heartbeat.

eventually you both drifted to sleep, his hand playing with your hair.

yoooo 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻 call me the ceo of ooc hobie atp x)

uhhh yea sorry the end is a bit rushed but 😭😭 also im in an agsty mood so i'll write smth when reader finds out hobie is cheating on them when they come to his dimension 😈😈

ALSO if you want some sleepy hobie hcs you can find them here ! :D

[lesbianrobin]

my hot take is that abby was in a very vulnerable position having just spent years taking care of her slowly dying mother and then grieving her mother and as such i'm actually very happy for her for going off to do what she needed to do For Herself and while she did buck wrong she wasn't like an evil demon or anything and she was actually very nice to let him stay in her apartment indefinitely. however buck is my best friend so i'm allowed to hate his ex with passionate fury and ignore that she is a three-dimensional sympathetic person bc she hurt my bestie. so like fuck abby clark even though she actually kinda slays. yknow?

[loaksky]

hello! would you consider writing modern avatar stuff? if ur cool w that can i request modern human neteyam relationship headcanons?

wait hold the phone yes i would actually ! wanted to hold off on posting this to include headcanons about what modern!neteyam would be like in a relationship, but i’m so eager to come back ! instead here’s some background about him & reader leading up to the relationship (part 2 pending if you guys want it) ! headcanons under the cut & for all intents + purposes, i picture college-neteyam ! additionally, in my brain, it’s canon that teyam as a human would be poc, hence the reference pictures i included below ! <3

so i definitely see neteyam having a very soft aesthetic, he’s such a sweetheart tbh

fs think that the two of you would have a meetcute in university & then end up being college sweethearts

his major is something specific like environmental engineering or child psychology ? he’s definitely really smart and excels in all of his classes !

which brings me to how the two of you would meet ? perhaps he’s taking an elective course in pottery and your major is in art with a concentration in three dimensional composition

the class is considered a lab, so the professor emails out the syllabus and students come and go as they please during class hours to work on their compositions.

halfway thru the sem, you and teyam stumble upon each other in the storage room between two classrooms, fetching different pieces that need to be glazed + fired.

“sorry, you can—”

“nah, you first—”

you laugh and neteyam’s smiling because WOW you’re really cute + had he known that someone as lovely as you was in the same section as him, he’d probably hang around the classroom more.

from that moment on, neteyam’s always lingering during the class’ meeting time, even if he’s already finished with his projects for the week because he wants to get to know you SO bad, but he’s way too shy.

(probably still canon that he’s phenomenal at literally everything, but i think it’d be so cute if he had 0 legitimate rizz bc he’s so used to kinda just bein’ him and pulling bc he’s a jack of all trades type of guy)

“what are you making?” you ask him one day and he snatches his airpod out of his ear so quickly even though he’s not listening to anything.

“ashtray” he answers quietly, a lil self-conscious because he’s come to find out that you’re absolutely amazing at sculpting and while you do this for your future, he does it is as a pastime / elective to graduate. “but like i don’t smoke or anything yknow, i just thought that i’d be a good thing to–”

you’re staring at him with the corner of your mouth quirked and he shuts up quickly, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he slumps on his stool.

“you should score using a crosshatch,” you tell him simply. “makes the pieces stick together better.”

he looks down at where he’d been scratching the damp clay laterally and your hands hover over his, head tilting to the side.

“can i?”

oh yeah, yeah! sure,” he splutters, leaning back a little to watch you work your magic.

can’t help but watch the way your fingers work over the clay, knuckles smudged with glaze and dust coating the silver of your rings.

he watches your hands, but soon he’s watching your face because you’re concentrated so hard on making sure you’re using your best technique for the little ashtray.

lo and behold, the pieces stick together so perfectly and smoothly, ready to be fired in the kiln, and neteyam’s grateful.

“thanks,” he sighs almost dreamily.

“yeah, of course. glad to help,” you tell him.

when you return to your own project, you slam back the rest of your melting drink and neteyam’s eyes are squinting the get a read on what it is you order.

you’re pleasantly surprised when you turn up to pottery the next session to work on a new project, and neteyam’s there with two coffees, one next to his wheel, another near yours.

“what’s this?” you hum, tying your apron with a messy bow.

“a thank you,” he says shyly. “for helping me last time.”

your eyes widen when you see your favorite; a chai with almondmilk, vanilla, and a shot of espresso.

“how’d you…”

“it’s what you were drinking…” he responds. “last week. i think.

“oh…” you trail off, cheeks hot because he noticed ???

“you don’t have to—”

“NO!” you yelp, a tad loud. some of the other students working on a few last minute projects peer at the two of you and teyam’s grinning like an idiot when he sees the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and reach for the drink. “this is good! it’s great. thank you so much. i actually missed my run this morning.”

“yeah, of course,” he sighs, rolling his lips together as the two of you kinda get off to a clunky start.

the silence between the two of you is a lil awkward, but you decide to break the ice since teyam’s technically played his hand and the ball’s in your court.

“are you an art major ?” you ask.

“uh, nah,” he'd say, rubbing his sweaty palms on the thighs of his baggy jeans because HE SHOWED UP TO CLASS 15 MINUTES EARLY and the agony of not knowing if you’d show up made him so nervous. “environmental engineering.”

your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, lips forming an ‘o’ bc wow that must mean he’s super smart.

“wow, that’s insane,” you say quietly. “what made you take pottery ?”

“only elective that didn’t make me wanna claw my eyes out,” he laughs nervously. “what about you ? what’s your major ?”

you seem to mull over your thoughts for a moment, obviously a little hesitant to answer.

“3d art...nothing special...” you trail off.

neteyam begins working with the slab of clay waiting for him in the center of the wheel, cheeks going hot because the words leave him before he can stop them.

“no, no. i think that’s really cool. art is a really challenging passion to have & i admire people willing to dive in full stop.”

the comment makes you smile, fingers pliant over the wet clay.

neteyam wants to DIE because he can’t read whether or not your smile is genuine or if you’re grimacing because he’s the biggest idiot ever.

he supposes it’s the former when you two are parting ways, signing the attendance log and you decide to bite the bullet and write your instagram handle on the bottom corner of the page and tear it off to hand to him.

he’s barely able to get a ‘thank you’ out before you’re racing out the door with your gifted coffee in hand.

you’re so giddy when you run out of the building and your phone pings in the front pocket of your satchel and you see that teyam.sully has followed you.

after that day, you two become really friendly !

neteyam frequently dms you about class, but eventually, he starts sending you vids and memes, saying that they made him think of you.

it becomes so obvious to both of your friend groups that you’re crushing on each other, but both of you are too painfully shy to say anything despite every green flag.

soon, looking forward to seeing each other during class turns into neteyam subtly asking you to hang out.

you make a comment about one of his hoodies and he mentions that he thrifted it.

“wait really??” you’re pausing your work to look at him. “i love thrifting!”

he smiles wide, word vomiting before he can stop himself.

“yeah? i know a couple of good places if you’re down.”

you say yes, DUH !

looking back at it, maybe that’s your first date because he picks you up from your dorm & bc you guys live in a fairly walkable city, you commute to the thrift and you’re SO giddy because the backs of your hands keep brushing every time some impatient pedestrian pushes by you guys on the narrow sidewalks.

you guys end up spending HOURS and teyam’s internally screaming because you find a shirt that has a peeling heart with the phrase ‘if lost return to wife’ and he happens upon the match to it a couple aisles down that says ‘i'm the wife’.

when you’re not looking, teyam buys the shirts and stuffs them in his canvas bag.

DUDE IS WHIPPED.

he wants you SO bad.

after the thrift, you guys get pizza, and after that, ice cream, and JESUS he doesn’t want the day to end because being with you is so easy.

over the course of the rest of the semester, the two of you make it a routine to hang out at least once a week and you’re always looking forward to it.

dates excursions include; trips to the museum to see recent exhibits, weekly pizza parlor dinners, study sessions at the 24 hr cafe a block from the school (in which he always walks you home after), park days where he reads books on environmental sustainability and you secretly draw portraits of him.

in these times, he learns that you want to become an art teacher, your favorite cereal is froot loops with the marshmallows, your all time show is amazing world of gumball.

almost cries laughing when he finds out that you have a secret pet turtle you hide in your dorm named franklin.

acknowledges that he’s falling, but falls even harder when the florist who owns the flower shop you two always pass hands you the prettiest little bundle of flowers and you spend the entire trek to the park, handing out individual stems to couples, children, and the elderly, telling them to have a beautiful day.

it all comes to a head near the end of the semester when he realizes that he can’t keep dancing around his feelings for you and the feelings he’s almost certain you have for him.

tells you to clear your schedule for the upcoming friday night and dresses a little nicer than usual when he picks you up.

brings you two to the planetarium in the city and, instead of watching the exhibit, he spends the entire time watching how you light up.

he knows in his gut that you could be it for him.

he’s loved getting to know you and spending so much time with you.

he’s so immersed in this feeling throughout the entire night.

probably wipes his sweaty palms over the thighs of his pants before shakily taking your hand as the diagram of the constellations shift.

can’t help but smile when your fingers squeeze his and you seem to shift closer to him as the narrator starts the presentation.

and he’s especially quiet after the exhibit, fingers still twined with yours as the two of you walk down the bustling sidewalks of the city center.

two of you probably stop by a dessert cafe and sit outside on a bench in the spring air, enjoying the buskers as you share a little cake.

you’re talking about home and how you’re excited to see your family again and he can’t help but imagine bringing you home to meet all his siblings and his parents because he knows that they’d absolutely love you and—

you’ve paused your speaking, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth and he’s SHORT CIRCUITING.

“shit, that was weird i’m so—”

his palm cups your jaw, thumb on your cheek, pad of his pinky and ring finger soft against your neck.

“can i?” he whispers.

TRIANGLE METHOD !!

he glances at one eye, gaze dropping to your lips before glancing at the other.

you already know what he’s referring to, could feel the romantic tension between the two of you since the beginning, but only become sure of it in the recent weeks.

”can you what?” you swallow.

he breathes a short laugh because the knowing smile that quirks your lips is a dead give away.

“can i kiss you?” he asks softly, absently setting your abandoned dessert somewhere behind him on the bench.

“yeah,” you’d nod, leaning into him. “please.”

before the two of you go your separate ways for summer holiday, he shows you the shirts he bought at the thrift store the first time around, but insists on keeping the shirt that says ‘i'm the wife’.

neng © 2023

[love-byers]

How do you think the timeskip for season 5 is going to work? (I forgot how many years, is it two or three??) Is The Crawl going to begin (after the flashback ofc) in 1988-9 or is it going to start in 1986 and later on do the timeskip?

If it's the first option, would they say Vecna is dormant/recharging/healing during those years? How could the military cover up a town broken in four for so long? I don't think they could force a sense of normalcy onto the people who'll remain in Hawkins. I say that bc of the bts pics and clips that show the Party at the school hallways and at the cafeteria -they're obvs there because Hawkins High continued to be an emergency shelter, right? not because they'll have been forced to pretend everything's "normal" and continue to attend school in the middle of a dimensional clash, right?? (that'd be both too sad and hilarious fr 😭)

The second option is also wonky to imagine, but then again, the episode length might allow something ike that. What do you think?

oh man i literally have no idea

i saw people saying it must be fall 1989 since one of those cds from a set came out in august 1989 but if it was fall 1989 the kids would be graduated

their senior year is 88-89. if it was fall 89 they'd be graduated and we've clearly seen them at school

i remember seeing people say the first 2 eps pick up immediately after the end of s4 but i don't think there's any proof for that

and i'm assuming since they've been big on saying s5 will have s1 vibes that it'll take place in fall/november, but i doubt it'll be fall 1986

then there's that leaked hospital report about karen saying it happened in summer 1987, so s5 being fall 1987 would make the most sense since every other season has had a 1 year change

83 -> 84 -> 85 -> 86 -> ?87?

and nah i'm pretty sure they're going to school like normal since we've gotten bts of them with their back packs and students everywhere + cafeteria. i'm assuming it was under control enough that they could go back to school since..yknow...kids have to be in school

i think part of the reason s5 will have the s1 small town vibes again is because so many people left town at the end of s4

but i really can't be sure

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

A penny for your thoughts on the Dikinbaus episode? 👀👀👀

Omg okay so I definitely have to rewatch it like 10082927 times but just to go off of my late night 'delirious from excitement' watch, I am absolutely ECSTATIC at the way the episode treated Butters and gave him a well deserved win.

Butters has evolved a lot over the course of the show, he used to be a 100% naïve and innocent boy who was absolutely clueless about everything mature or terrible going on around him and it was always a very hopeful thing for me to watch him keep going and loving life despite how much the world tore him down on all ends. In a way, watching old seasons makes me miss the old Butters, but if Butters had just stayed the same for the next 20 seasons, he would hardly feel like a real/three dimensional person as he does now.

The changes and mood swings he's gone through, as well as the resilience he's started to build up were weird to watch at first (*COUGH* s20) but then they've started making more and more sense, especially taking into account the Post COVID special and the two wildly different paths his life could go.

That all being said, Dikinbaus was an absolutely satisfying cathartic episode as a Butters enthusiast, because he's just finally embracing things he's genuinely good at and demanding justice from someone who's arguably taken advantage of him the most in the entire show: Cartman.

It's kind of like Butters' version of Wendy's "Breast Cancer Show Ever" episode, where she's often been disrespected in a sexist way by him and no one (no teachers/adults) ever really did something, so she took matters into her own hands. Cartman is always screwing Butters over by letting him take the fall for his schemes, making Butters spend money on his behalf, and Butters has let him get away with it for so long, and so have Butters' parents (and everyone else but I especially blame the adults bc yknow).

This makes Dikinbaus kind of a kickstarter for Butters' "Fuck you, Eric!" moment at the end of Post COVID: The Return of COVID, which is nice to see because in the "Worldwide Privacy Tour" episode earlier in the season, Butters' behavior (after his parents sent him to rework his "brand") reminded me much more of Vic Chaos. It's nice to see these two versions of Butters' future reflect in present episodes, and I'm excited to see more of it in future episodes.

I've been rambling about Butters only but tbh I found the Kenman dynamic in this episode hilarious too. It makes me kind of mourn the respect Butters had for Kenny though, bc I'm sure that after this episode it must've significantly gone down, but honestly I was just happy to see Kenny have some fun even if it was at Butters' expense. Let him be a dumb immature kid fr

The only issue I had with the episode for now is the commentary on mental health days at work and the underlying "today's youth is sensitive and too lazy to work" message, which lacked nuance and just kinda felt like old people complaining. It would've been okay if they'd kept it only to Cartman, kinda like the "there's queer people, and then there's Mr Garrison" thing, but they brought Kenny & other kids into that narrative too so it made me feel a little eh about the commentary. But oh well

Sorry anon, you gave me a penny and I'm throwing a whole thesis on you but I still thank you a lot for asking and letting me ramble. Kisses to you :>>

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv

shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

god, i love musicals.

(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)

once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship

but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!

part three fic masterlist part five

While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.

Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.

Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.

The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.

We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.

Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)

My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.

He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.

As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.

Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.

Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.

So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.

If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.

So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.

The same could not be said for her.

~

Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.

With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.

This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.

Did they plan something?

She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.

He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.

All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.

Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.

If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.

Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.

When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.

The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.

Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.

“How did you-”

But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.

“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.

This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.

“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.

“A world of your own-”

“-where you can be free!”

“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”

“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.

“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.

~

What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.

She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.

The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.

She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.

“Terrible shame what-”

“Florence?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.

Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”

“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.

“Hi, Felix.”

Silence.

Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.

“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.

For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.

“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t move.

She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.

Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.

The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.

“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”

“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”

“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.

Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.

“...My family?”

“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”

…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.

They haven’t-

“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”

“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s the same way for me!”

This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.

“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.

“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”

“I…”

Tears blurred her vision.

“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”

For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.

Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.

She’d lost him.

She’d never truly had him to lose.

But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.

After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.

“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”

What?

Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.

“Wait-wait, no, I-”

“Wren-”

She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-

“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”

“Wren-”

“Let me-”

“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”

“WREN!”

The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.

All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.

They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.

Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.

This is not over.

[wasyago]

Love your art! I was super inspired by your Gillion design specially. He's so squishable (positive).

Do you have a specific process for designing characters? Be it original or reimagining canon designs of fandom

thank you!! :D

hmm, well, i don't remember the last time i properly designed an original character, so nothing on that front. for reimagining designs... i don't have a step by step way i do it, it varies from character to character, but i can point out some of the things i do that might be helpful?

i largely base my designs on the vibes the character gives me: their manner of speech, their actions, their story and personality. and also the world and environment around them if it affects the character. it sounds pretty obvious but like, duh.

im gonna try and explain on gillion's example since its the one you mentioned. he's a himbo, a swimmer and a paladin, so he's gonna be buff or at least a little thicker. he's a triton, so he's short. he's also short for the reason that he is in an unfamiliar for him world and he might feel small in it. he's also short because it makes him look almost child like, connecting it to his trauma and lack of childhood that manifests in his behavior now. gillion is kind or at least trying to be, so his features will be softer and rounder. but sometimes he's chaotic or harsh, so he has some sharp features too. though they're secondary, the softness is still the main focus.

i also really like to think and overthink the designs while drawing. i try to keep everything simpler and less detailed, showing personality with shapes rather than uhh presence(?), but that means that details i do include have a lot of thought behind them.

one of my favorite things is practically. i love to think about what a character would realistically wear in the climate they're in, which clothing would be comfortable for their anatomy and field of work. would certain things get in the way or would they be helpful? how would they style their hair, do they need it tied back or do they not care? would they wear make up, why yes or why not? etc etc etc. i like asking myself questions and answering them in the design.

continuing with the gillion example. he's constantly wet because he's a triton (again, yes), so it would be more comfortable for him to wear a wetsuit. other clothes may stick to him and be uncomfortable, or get stuck on his fins, etc. he doesn't have any piercings, there's no way he would've gotten them in the undersea, and on the surface i don't think there was anything meaningful enough to promt him to get it. plus fin ears. he doesn't have his hair styled in a complicated way because of the coral on his head. doesn't wear a lot of jewelry because he jumps in the water a lot and it'll easily get lost. no belts or flowy bits because they constrict the movement and might get in the way.

and then like. all the personal headcanons and preferences and little bits and things. there's a lot of elements that i draw just because i like how they look. or because that's a comfortable thing for me, or because it's cute or hot or sad or whatever. or because i saw it while looking for inspiration and i really liked it. just bullshitting with the design and making it my own, yknow?

for gillion. gave him a cool long tail and lots of fins everywhere because i like it when inhuman characters are openly and visibly inhuman and have distinct features. and gillion is VERY much not human, part of his personality is being confused about humans. big ol yellow eyes with slits — look cool, also doubles as an inhuman feature, also makes him look curious about the world. small black stripes all over his body — make him look more fishy, plus because there's a lot of them and they're all the same they form a pattern that looks more like a natural anatomical feature and draw less attention. coral that goes around his head and not only the front like a tiara— makes it feel more three dimensional and looks cool in perspective (also i kinda just drew it wrong and never fixed it). coral and fins are pink — adds some much needed color variation and contrast, plus pink is one of the more natural colors which again make him look animalistic and not magical, plus ties in with pretzel. his skin is closer to green than blue — removes blue from the color pallet (especially with his eyes being yellow instead of blue), making the design more coherent and pleasing, allows me to properly introduce reds and purples without it looking like a mess of colors (although it still does sometimes). sharp teeth — fish, cute. yellowish underbelly — supports the yellow for the eyes and makes it stand out less, plus again, animalistic feature. little to no details on the clothing — creates good negative space that lets the eyes rest and focus the attention on everything else. his fringe and hair are floating around and don't follow the laws of physics — personal headcanon that it always looks like he's under water, plus adds roundness to the design because of the waves and curls.

ookay haha sorry didn't mean to write down literally every design decision here-- kind of derailed the post again.

basically yeah, for me designing is like a dialog with myself where i ask and answer questions. also something that wasn't mentioned are references and inspiration. if i don't have a good idea when i start, i usually scroll through my gallery or pinterest for some time to get ideas and figure out the general direction i want to take the design, maybe also find some fun stuff to include, etc.

hopefully this long ramble was at least somewhat helpful or gave you insight on my progress. i wanted to draw some things to also visually explain the design decisions for gill, but i think I'll do it later and in a separate post, and maybe include chip and jay too...

umm good luck 👍👍

[txttletale]

Is worm Homestuck but with superheroes?

not really. in terms of things they have in common, they're both:

extremely long with lots and lots of characters

refreshingly focused on their female characters

bitterly cynical often to the point of open misanthropy

known for constantly upping the stakes

other than that--worm is focused in a way homestuck isn't. worm has one main character who goes through a pretty linear story. worm is, obviously, a deconstruction story from ground up, but it's not really concerned with storytelling and metanarrative in the way that homestuck is.

both hussie and wildbow are good character writers but in very different ways--there's no character in worm with a character voice as immediately distinct and quotable as, say, dave strider or karkat (only a few even come close: rachel, aisha, ashley?)--but worm's characters are much more believably drawn out as three-dimensional human beings.

this reflects that worm takes itself seriously. a huge chunk of what happens in homestuck is hussie saying 'yknow what would be funny?' or deliberately subverting or negating or inverting some narrative expectation. worm's got jokes in but it's not funny (or, if you don't find homestuck funny, written to be funny) in the same way homestuck is. it's much more self-serious and tonally consistent. there's no [homestuck made this world podcast host voice] deflationary move. awful shit happens in worm and then everyone just sits with it. it's a much darker story in tone and in terms of how reality-adjacent the content is.

and--and i can't believe i'm saying this!--homestuck is substantially more progressive than worm in its discussion of gender and sexuality. they're both pretty equally dreadful about race.

there's a bunch of other differences too but these are just the ones that come to mind easily. tldr: i wouldn't really say they're meaningfully similar at all other than being long things online with weird fanbases

[anx1oustig3r]

NO YKNOW WHAT IM TIPSY I GOTTA SCREAM ABOUT THE SHOW AGAIN

davion is all like “there’s a monster inside me and it’s gonna kill me one day :(“ WHEN LIKE slyrak has been in him for like, what 3 days?? a couple of weeks? he’s acting like this was over multiple years

BUT HERES THE THING

this could have been played in an interesting way, if they had decided: were dragons either intelligent beings with their own culture and society like any other race in dota? are they more on the vein of any other animal? dangerous but still important and valuable to the ecosystem and balance of the world? or are they big evil baddies who only wanna do evil things bc big scary monsters?

let’s say it was one of the first two. davion learning this and coming to the conclusion that these are creatures just like him - either other people or just trying to survive the only way they know how, while fymryn will believe that the monster he’s talking about is slyrak, davion’s talking about himself. that monster has been there for years, born from his hatred and trauma.

like yeah it’s a generic “the real monster was the man” thing, but FUCK LIKE at least he would be a bit more compelling?? more three dimensional???? LIKABLE EVEN?????????

[sharpth1ng]

I think I know why I like Stu but not Ethan, even though they’re the same base character: the corny white boy. Stu is a corny white boy, but he’s funny, yknow? He’s silly and goofy and zany. Ethan is a corny white boy but he’s annoying. He’s a whiny incel bitch boy that looks like Dream. So in conclusion: Stu rules and Ethan drools.

Another difference: Stu is well written. Despite the in-text misogyny and murder his character is treated as three-dimensional. He’s silly, attention seeking, he has issues with empathy, he’s a neglected kid, he’s obsessed with Billy. And these things aren’t just outright told to us in dialogue, they’re in his actions, in background details like the note on the wall from his parents, saying they’re sorry they missed his birthday. And on top of that we get Matthew Lillards performance adding layers to it all.

In contrast with Ethan we get someone who mostly talks about how he’s a virgin and definitely can’t be Ghostface. We don’t really get more than that. We get that he’s jealous of Chad but even that doesn’t feel fully played out. Ethan doesn’t feel like a character to me, he feels like a cardboard cutout of an incel played by a fairly young actor who imo just didn’t bring a lot to the role. But what was he supposed to bring? It’s not like the fucking script did him any favours.

[likeadevils]

So i have this little problem with evermore the album I don’t think i had fully digested folklore before evermore came out so i couldn’t fully emerge myself in it if that makes any sense lol anyway i was hoping to ask about a few songs and your take on them if that’s ok with you :)

Ivy

Tis the damn season

so folklore and evermore both function as more of a sandbox than anything in my mind, where i like to take existing songs and then be like, oh seven is the story of betty and augusts childhood friendship but betty had to move away because of her parents divorce, my tears ricochet is from augusts pov after she heard james got back together with his ex, etc etc (and these daydreams change all the time like sometimes this is me trying is adult james, sometimes it’s betty, sometimes it’s betty’s dad, yknow whatever gets the story done)

tis the damn season is like, the load bearing stone in all of my evermore daydreams. i love the way it can tie into almost every other song on the album— dorothea, obviously, but also the idea that if this love was ever to work she would have to wreck her plans, that she moved to la and left her relationship in tatters like champagne problems, her prickliness and reticence to get in a new relationship in gold rush, becoming disillusioned with fame and the surface level relationships in coney island and evermore. personally i like to add a relationship with a cowboy like me type that eventually descends into tolerate it levels before returning home, but that’s just me

even on its own merits, i love that taylor found an incredible common experience (returning home for the holidays, feeling simultaneously stuck in and comforted by your past self, and hooking up with your hometown ex) that doesn’t get sung about often. i love when she sings about love as something inconvenient that she would rather not experience, and i love when she writes really mean stand-offish lyrics and sings them in such a way that forced you to see the deep love underneath. like there’s something so fanfiction-y (in the best way) about putting “if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone i would’ve asked you” in a love song— it’s something you find in books or tv shows or movies, more long form content that gives the author the space to make it obvious that the character is saying it out of jealousy, not malice, and taylor has the balls to drop it in a song and trust listeners to pick up on it without any other context clues. and the whole song does that, builds a three-dimensional character out of her complicated love for the people and places she inhabits, and it works so well.

the instrumentals of ivy are my favorite thing about the song— the way they all stutter over themselves, the tentative horns, the gasping backing vocals in the bridge, it all feels like falling in love in careful little tiptoes. just like tis the damn season it builds a character out of her love for someone else, but a different kind of person— ivy is tentative and sweet and doomed by her own inaction, where tis the damn season is prickly and cold and doomed by her ambition. it’s just. it’s such a good song but in order to do the lyrics justice i feel like i would need a line by line breakdown and this post is already too long. but just. every metaphor for love she uses is something destructive, how she moves from something god has forgotten to someone god has damned, how the song opens with “the old widow goes to the (tomb)stone everyday” and the refrain is “my house of stone,” it’s just so well thought out

[neutrallyobsessed]

Today I bring you, Me!

That picrew was incredibly excellent it brought up Me in its most enhanced state lol

Basically my self insert is just me but as a fictonal character, an Entity of sorts who traded her three-dimensionality to able to travel to the many many fictional universes and exists where her many many MANY boyfriends live~

On the left is a casual mode, how I usually present myself and exists both irl and in the fictional world (for the sake of simplicity xd) while on the right is what I call Modo GOD™ and which sometimes appears to convey her supernatural abilities and such... I just felt like it couldn't be right for her to have a completely Normal Human™ appeareance, she needed a lil something something yknow? And now she has x3

Something to clarify that the Entity is ✨Ageless✨ and doesn't really care for the ages of her f/os cause none of this is real, it's all FAKE NOTHING EXIST PEOPLE, MOVING ON~~!!

Like I said, me but hyperbolized :3