anyway can we appreciate james tolbert in black friday. he’s giving 100% in every moment he’s onstage.
• “you’re nothing more than a Harvard law school community organising prick! take one step closer to my fwendy wend and I’ll rip your fucking throat out with my teeth!”
• “ 😄 mom is bringin my sled 😄 👍”
• OBVIOUSLY HIS DANCING!!!!!
• “SHE HAS THE LYING TONGUE OF A SNAAAAAAKE”
• “the prophet shall bathe in her blood as well!! JOYOUS DAYYYYYYY!!!!! nyehehehe”
I actually do have some drawings made! They’re mostly designs of the characters cause I had to start somewhere. Right now I’m currently working on better refs for two lords in black so I’m not gonna show those guys just yet. Instead I’ll show off Coffee Grounds (Paul)
some things about Paul:
he does NOT like racing. In Hatchetfield once a race ends it’s just like any other race in the world. They have to perform a concert in the end with the winner being the lead. Just like a musical to Paul’s eyes.
Most of the horse people in Hatchetfield sometimes change their names if they want a normal life or wanna separate their racing career and personal stuff. Paul changed it cause he hates racing and wanted a normal name.
Paul goes by any pronouns but mostly prefers he/him. It feels right, they don’t mind other pronouns but they like feeling masculine.
This took me way too long to finish, it's been months since I laid out the first sketch
Commission for an anon! They requested that I make him look more gross and scary.
oh you hate musicals? oh so youre allergic to all fun and whimsy then? youre against all joy and giddiness brought in front of you huh? you just hate any and all happiness and silly times dont you?
drew this as part of my “wuv-you webby” AU! you can find the synopsis below the cut <3
❗️repost as my old blog @snigglette got nuked — may it rest in peperony and chease
the queen in white has been a thorn in the sides of the lords in black since long before the earth held a title. their sister ( a title that tasted acidic on the mouths of the lords in black as well as the queen in white herself ), webina, was a nuisance at best and a iconoclast at worst. she was the only one not to adhere to their rules and visions. where they brought chaos, she brought peace. the kind of peace that she extended to those with a touch of the gift. the kind of peace that could permanently remove them from existence like graphite on paper.
the kind of peace that needed to be dealt with.
and deal with it they shall.
wiggog barked orders like a rabid dog, and wilbur cross followed them obediently.
wilbur slammed a sheet of paper down on the table of employees at the factory responsible for producing uncle wiley toys and goods. with a crisp green apple in one hand, he used the other to slam the pad of his finger against the sketch, the newest in the uncle wiley doll line. a plump and friendly plush spider, with eight limbs and eyes. he demanded a prototype of both the plush and the box it would be held in, a demand that didn’t need to be repeated, for the employees scrambled like mad ants to comply.
in mere days, they had it.
a vessel made of cotton and minky. a prison of fleece and embroidered stitch work.
webina was easy to fool, her naive heart yearned to believe her siblings when they invited her to speak about a truce, when they had offered opened arms as invitation to her.
irony held a wicked sense of humor, and it clutched its belly and laughed and laughed as the spider herself became trapped in a web woven to ensnare her & ensure her demise.
using their joint powers, the lords in black separated webina from her true form, trapping her essence in the prison of cotton and fleece. a prison that meant she could no longer be a thorn in their side. a prison that meant no further communications with those who have a touch of the gift — those that could put an end once and for all they had on their christmas list.
but webina should not go unpunished, wiggog decided. for this was not punishment enough, no. this fleece and fabric was the jail cell but not the sentence. and so, he ordered wilbur cross to have her delivered to toy zone, along with the various other stock in the uncle wiley toy line. schadenfreude seeped into the syllables of their words like spilled wine in white carpet as they giggled and snickered over how the infamous toy zone customer sherman young would be sure to purchase ‘wuv - you webby’, delighting in the what ifs and could be’s.
‘oh, what a delightful early birthday present,’ wiggog had happily hummed as he held the plush in his hands, before tossing it against wilbur’s chest with the demand he ‘see to it.’
webina fought with all her might to escape. she wasn’t able to free herself, though her efforts had caused the once pristine box she was encased in to become damaged with torn edges, creased corners and dented plastic. something that went unnoticed by wilbur, who figured the sounds were nothing more than the infamous potholes that every michigan road held & who hadn’t thought to open the cargo box to check on the state of the doll.
frank pricely, however, noticed it the moment he caught sight of it between the cardboard flaps.
as he opened the stock and removed the damaged box, he all but recoiled. it would be an insult to the reputation toy zone had built to place this damaged product on one of their prestigious shelves.
and so he phoned the manager for uncle wiley toys — though he was unable to get said manager, so he instead was met with a customer service rep — a prepubescent sounding boy whose voice crackled like pop rocks. phone in one hand and box in the other, frank barked his outrage that he had been delivered damaged goods and requested a refund.
‘uh sir, we have no transaction for a wuv you webby listed on our records sir, so we can’t issue a refund sir.’
frank hung up on him, shoving his phone into his pocket. he didn’t know what he was to do. he supposed he could offer it at a discount, but toy zone had a reputation to uphold! maybe he could —
‘frank?’
frank raised his gaze from the damaged box to look into the eyes of his best employee, lex foster. ( though he wouldn’t ever tell her that, he couldn’t let it go to her head! )
‘what?’ he asked exasperatedly.
‘is there any extra overtime i can do? i’ve been trying to save to get hannah something for christmas, but the fridge had some issues and every damn thing i had in that damned christmas budget had to go that damn fridge,’ she huffed and then closed her eyes tight and took a breath, trying to calm herself. ‘look, whatever it is i can do, i’ll do it. please, frank, i can’t bear the thought of telling hannah that santa was too busy to drop by the trailer again this year.’
frank pricely, a man who views ‘a christmas carol’ as a cautionary tale, looked from lex’s desperate face to the damaged box in his hands. the foster family’s financial situation & home life was no secret in a small town who loved to gossip. ‘here,’ he said as he placed the box in lex’s hands. ‘the box is damaged, but the plush inside it seems pristine. give it to hannah, and i’ll see what i can do about some overtime,’ he said to a jaw-dropped lex.
and for the first time in forever, the dead pine they used as a christmas tree held a couple presents beneath it — and hannah’s favorite was her new ‘wuv - you webby doll’.
little did the lords in black know that their plans of separating webby from those with a ‘touch of the gift’ had placed her in the hands of two with the gift, not merely a touch of it. two sisters who, together, may be powerful enough to take them all down.
prguitarman
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
andulkaphoto
kianamaiart
jbbartram-illu
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
origamiaround
