POV: Tumblr Has A New Timeline Where Wimsy Became A Tumblr Sexy Man And I Made Fan Art Of Him*

POV: tumblr has a new timeline where wimsy became a tumblr sexy man and I made fan art of him*

“ gosh I absolutely love my misunderstood hot man- I hate smoking but I would happily give my lungs for him 💗👉👈✨any ways hope you guys like my fan art!”

*end of joke POV)

Hey Moomblr?

So in conclusion:

Just a hilarious thought, if anyone wants to add ideas or make additions to the post and pretend there's like, an alternate timeline where the little guy is a Tumblr sexyman like Joxter, I would love that. It's all in good fun tho.

Heya people!

The next chapter of the DM!Au will take a bit longer then usual to make, I want to work on my original series before I go back to making the fan fiction.

I absolutely love writing the fic but it’s time consuming and I have other things to balance, if any one has any sorts of questions about the au or the future of it please feel free to dm me! Or just add a comment!

(I will be posting doodles of Joxter and fuzzy along the way once in a while don’t you worry though!)

This-this right here? Yea I’m going to make so much fan art of this eventually-

Soooooo I had this quick-ish alternate universe idea and wrote it up for 4 hours straight. It is very much angst material but it's not super angsty until the end where it goes very hard.

Characters include the Oshun Oxtra (including the Nibling), takes place after the crew drift off to sea and this is about 3 thousand words long!

This may or may not be a part 1 but I'm not making promises as I've learned that I'm horrible at them.

So, yeah, hope you enjoy!

It was only very recently that the Oshun Oxtra had lost its anchor and set off to the great blue beyond of which Muddler felt ill to think the sheer vastness of, let alone of the things that lurk beneath the blue-green tinted darkness that stared back at him whenever he looked over the railing. Despite his best judgements and his wisdom, he couldn't help but be pulled toward the side of the ship every now and then just to peer into the sea that his uncle and apparently his father were fond of in concept, his imagination (or very little imagination, as according to most creatures) couldn't help but drift to picturing the unimaginable horrors that could live in the cold, empty, salty void that only the boat could be protecting him from, it was a guilty passtime between reorganizing and re-reorganizing his collection as he so often does, despite his obvious fear of the vast entity and his own imagination.

"See anything in the water?" asked the young stowaway Nibling from behind, indeed the one who had chewed off the river-boat's anchor in the middle of two nights ago "How come you keep looking over there?" he continued asking and approached the Muddler, too short to look over the railing himself.

The Muddler snapped away from his thoughts and looked down at the Nibling with embarrassment and even confusion at his own actions "O- oh, excuse me! I'm sorry! I'm not... I don't see anything, as of yet, I'm just checking the waters just in case... You- you know how there can be dangerous things there, right? Have to keep an eye out!"

"Uh...huh," the Nibling replied with a small hesitant nod and trotted his way to the Muddler's Maxell House Coffee™ tin in small, sticky steps.

Muddler's gaze followed the Nibling and was all too concerned about why he would go there, not wanting to seem rude, he silently followed the Nibling, making sure not to step on the Nibling's trail lest his gloved feet get stuck — or be left without footwear. The Nibling tried to claw up the tin with his small paws and Muddler simply crossed his arms and said "I'm... I'm sorry but I'm not going to let you inside the tin again! You made my playing cards into collage art and my silverware into a plate just from walking on them! I'm not sure if I can let you do something like that again...!" and suddenly guilt welled up and his meek conscience, he uncrossed his arms and held his mouth "Excuse me! Sorry! I hope that didn't seem too rude, Mr. Nibling..."

"I suppose that is fair, but I don't know how I can help it like I can't help from gnawing on the big rope! It's something I'm built with!" cried the Nibling.

"But the least you could do is try to learn from it and avoid it, right...? Try not bothering- I mean, stepping on things too much? Maybe I could find you a pair of socks you could wear while you're on board?" the Muddler offered.

"Do you think that would work?" replied the Nibling.

"We'll have to try! Though it might be a while before I could find a pair small enough for you... Don't suppose I hoarded some from when I was much smaller..." the Muddler pondered to himself before entering the tin.

The Nibling waited very eagerly as metallic and other sorts of noises clunk and banged from inside the enormous coffee tin, intermingled with Muddler's undecipherable mumbling and wordless exclamations. The eagerness subsided as it was clear this really was meant to take a while as Muddler hypothesized, so the Nibling eventually just sat beside the tin and waited patiently for the Muddler to return from his journey through the condensed junk yard found within the tin.

All the while, Hodgkins, the Muddler's aforementioned uncle and captain of this river-boat, and the Moomin, a very new person who had entered their lives and seemed much more interested in interacting with the captain more than anything, were holding operations and chatting in the pilot-house (it was more of a one-sided conversation with Moomin taking the lead, but still). Moomin was proudly steering the boat as Hodgkins made fixes and adjustments in the small tower, as the man much preferred to occupy himself with tweaking every little thing on his creation to make sure things run as smoothly as it can, especially as the river-boat was not meant to sail across the sea, it'd be safer if the Oshun Oxtra was more prepared as it went on.

They would also still need to ration their food and other supplies for this sort of trip, Hodgkins would have to warn Muddler, the crew's chef, cleaner and other things, about having to minimize the consumption and usage of the food supply in their meals, but of course they would have to take into account their food going bad, contamination, having an extra mouth to possibly feed, a plan B in case of miscalculation... Goodness, why did that Nibling have to stowaway and ruin everything like this? These are far too many variables to consider just for food of all things, they'd also have to worry about clean water and sanitation and potential danger and morale or sanity, most of which Hodgkins barely has a proper grasp on to even begin thinking on it!

"Wouldn't you think so, Hodgkins?" Moomin's voice suddenly broke through the train of thought.

"Hm?" Hodgkins turned around to face Moomin, utterly lost as to what he was talking about.

"Oh, perhaps I didn't speak too clearly- I meant that exploring such a vast place such as the ocean would be great for our prospects of being adventurers, right?" Moomin elaborated. And that was quite literally the opposite perspective from what Hodgkins was thinking of.

"Not quite," Hodgkins answered, attention going to the map on the pilot-house's wall "Considering all the practicalities that come with it. And the danger. Can't even be sure where we could be..." he landed a knee on the couch beneath the map and tried to pinpoint their location with his finger, he circled the North Sea as he was aware they were leaving the east of England, so it figures they would be in that particular part of the world "We're somewhere here, I think. Might be closer to our country, hard to tell. The area is too large to pinpoint, still, very likely rife with sea-monsters, or storms... I'm no expert," Hodgkins shrugged "We have to be prepared, don't want my nephew or Joxter or you to get hurt."

Moomin looked at Hodgkins and asked "What about you?"

"That, too," he replied and sat on the couch "Eyes where you're steering, Moomin."

"Oh, aye Captain," Moomin turned around toward the window, suddenly he noticed some dark clouds over the horizon and felt uneasy, he checked the barometer at his side "Hodgkins, I believe there might be a storm approaching if my eyes don't deceive me..."

Hodgkins tilted his head and noticed the dark clouds approaching, his ear flicked and he stood up "I'll consult Joxter, see if he has any input," he said and approached the door.

"Are you really going to think that Joxter would know how to tell the future?" Moomin said impatiently.

"Just for a gist, I trust his forebodings," Hodgkins replied and left. He could hear Moomin mumbling something under his breath before shutting the door.

Hodgkins went to Muddler's tin, ignored the Nibling sitting beside it and knocked on the lid for Muddler himself to peer out, Hodgkins leaned sideways to look his nephew in the eye "Storm approaching, we need Joxter's opinion," he said and lifted the lid up.

"Oh gosh! A storm?" exclaimed the Muddler and got out "I'm sorry that I couldn't find socks for you, Nibling, but this seems more important!" he apologized.

"It's alright! Storms are pretty scary, I think, I'd leave finding socks to do something else too if I were you," the Nibling said and turned the corner to look toward the dark clouds approaching and gulped.

Hodgkins basically dragged Muddler by the arm as the poor creature seemed so horrified at the sight of it that he froze, but of course he had to stumble in the direction Hodgkins was leading him, which was below deck.

Joxter had been sleeping in the, well, sleeping quarters for a few hours now as he usually did. He heard the two approaching from a above and slightly lifted his hat to see what they were intending to do there, then Hodgkins nudged Muddler to approach Joxter, which he did.

"Hey, sorry to wake you, Joxter..." Muddler said sheepishly.

"It's quite alright," he replied gently and sat up from his bed "Is anything the matter?"

"There's... There's a storm incoming, I think, and we hope that you might know if how bad it's going to be? Please?" Muddler answered. Joxter held a finger up to his chin with a very non-serious expression on his face "Joxter! This is serious!" Muddler added, unamused by this attempt at humour.

"Alright! Goodness!" Joxter said and got down from his bed, he walked past Hodgkins and said "Hullo to you too, captain Hodgkins," with a sarcastic salute jabbing at the lack of greeting from him. Hodgkins rolled his eyes and the three of them went above deck together, the storm noticeably being closer than before "Yep, that seems like an awful storm coming soon..." Joxter commented before a pain pierced his nose.

"Ah! Fiddlesticks!" he exclaimed painfully, holding his face "MMM... YES! Darn it! This will be an awful one indeed!" he cried. Muddler held Joxter worriedly and tried to hug his arm.

"I should get inside the tin, then-"

"I wouldn't recommend getting in the tin for protection, dear," Joxter interrupted Muddler and looked at him with a serious expression, then looked up at the sky cautiously.

Moomin broke the door open "The barometer is getting seriously low!" he yelled, looking (metaphorically) pale.

"I'll be steering," Hodgkins mildly yelled back and climbed the stairs to the pilot house "The rest of you go below deck until this is over."

"Excuse me! But what about the coffee tin!?" Muddler cried to his uncle.

"Afraid it can't be brought with you," Hodgkins said, and he was being very truthful in this as the stairway's entrance couldn't fit the coffee tin even if they somehow managed to carry it all the way there.

"NO!!!" screamed the Muddler.

Joxter held Muddler as he squirmed to approach Hodgkins "It will be alright!" he said, he proceeded to escort Muddler below deck. Moomin followed thereafter but not without giving Hodgkins a concerned look.

Hodgkins grabbed the steering wheel and then noticed the sticky sensation on the floor as he stepped on it, he turned around and saw the Nibling was sitting on the couch behind him "Since... When did you get here?" he asked.

"Since Muddler left with you," Nibling answered candidly.

Hodgkins stared at the Nibling for a few seconds, then shook his head and looked forward at the storm.

Below deck, the three crewmates were waiting for the storm to pass. Joxter smoked and played solitaire with his deck of cards, Moomin was pacing around the room, and Muddler sat balled up in the corner of the room, anxious for both his uncle and his coffee tin. This went on with quiet uneasiness and downright paranoia for a few minutes before the boat started noticeably swaying and ruined the Joxter's game, though he merely shrugged off the loss as bigger priorities were in order. The crew could hear the coffee tin gliding across the ceiling in all sorts of directions above their heads, which didn't do much aside from giving the Joxter and Moomin a sense of how much the boat is swaying and putting Muddler on the verge of a heart attack, this went on for a several long minutes until Muddler couldn't bear the sound or thought anymore and decided to go above despite the others' urgent warning and his own logical reasoning.

The door to the exit was dripping with water and, with a shakey paw, Muddler opened it to witness the great rainstorm and raging tides that swayed the river-boat unfit for such weather. Muddler trembled and tried to lift himself up and saw his tin sliding past. Overcome with a near-animalistic impulse to protect his collection, he almost ran after it before his uncle yelled at him asking what he was doing there and that he told him to stay below deck. Muddler suddenly felt regret strike him through the spine but his attention was soon switched with the priority of his tin above even himself. It was a cartoonish goose chase around the deck as the Muddler would trip before catching his tin and his uncle was simply trying his best to keep the ship from capsizing.

Muddler finally managed to hold onto his tin in a moment of sudden calm and relief. The storm was fading into a shower, the weather became brighter, and Muddler was gasping for air from exhaustion.

He seemed proud of himself for such a foolish venture, he beat the storm and made it out intanct, he didn't lose anything, he was fine, everything was fine. He's alright. There's nothing he should be afraid of anymore. Muddler could slip and hit the ground comfortably knowing that the tin is safe.

The boat jossled and then a large thing which seemed like a pillar or a tentacle shot out by the boat's side from underwater and threw everyone on the boat in the air, including the coffee tin. The pillar retreated back into the sea and so did the boat violently rock from side to side. The coffee tin flew across the boat, hit the railing and before Muddler could catch up to it, it slid off into the depths, the lid opened and everything sank into the unknown darkness right before Muddler's eyes.

The boat finally stabilized again. The last few droplets from the big finale landed. Muddler stood frozen over the railing, arms reaching out below, breathing heavily, eyes widened.

Muddler was in shock.

What happened? What was that? Why? Questions echoed in his head. The thoughts were akin to a small child asking innocent questions about the event, and then it quickly descended into accusatory madness trying to come up with an answer himself. In only a few seconds his mind was barking a thousand hateful reasons as to why this happened to him, all pointing at him for the blame, all overwhelming him with spite, and he didn't like it. The thoughts hounded him like rabid dogs, saying that this is was a punishment for his misdeeds and idiocy, screaming that this was his inevitability after so long, and others would squeak back questions of whys and hows. These thoughts would clash and yell over eachother, echoing and repeating, growling and seething, whirling and reeling, they mangled every corner of his consciousness and left no room to breath, all weeping and wrecking every shred of love he had within him.

It wasn't only the loss of his coffee tin that made this happen; something similar happened with the loss of Hodgkins' house to the foot of Edward the Booble, but at the very least it was the tangible fault of someone else, and he had his things and his family, then after a long while after Hodgkins revealed his secret project, he almost choked him with a cogwheel over breakfast, then he painted the boat and got paint all over himself, then painted his tin, then slept in paint all night, then he had to prepare for moving away from a home he's known his whole life, then almost suffocated and drowned in his tin during a river flood, then wished for the Groke to have eaten a hemulen who was promptly taken away by Niblings right after, then he couldn't make any use of himself on the boat, and now he lost his precious collection that kept him sane through all of this. What's next? Losing Hodgkins and Joxter?

His thoughts continued to scream at him, the uncohesive riot slowly gained organization and turned into an angry choir of 'you deserve this', he deserved it for being so dumb, he deserved it for all the things he did over his blurry childhood, he deserved it for being so sensitive, he deserved it for making his uncle almost eat a cogwheel, he deserved it for not thinking ahead, he deserved it for wishing the Hemulen Aunt to be eaten, he deserved having everything taken away from him, parents, home, collection and soon, all. Existing felt like a painful thing after all of this. He just wants it to end now, this weight on his chest, this pain all over his mind and body, this oversensitivity toward everything, having to play both the angry parent and the hurt and guilty child at the same time. He pulled his thoughts together into a quiet desire to just disappear. To do a favor for everyone else and not bother them any longer. Dark, somewhat bloody tears flooded down his face (this is normal for him and his species, Muddlers have tears like dogs) like they do all the time when he feels this. He just wanted to go away, to leave everyone alone, to not have to deal with how he thinks or feels.

The dark clouds parted as the storm ended. Sunbeams shined through and lit up the Oshun Oxtra. Muddler, though, flickered in and out of visibility as the sun's rays expressed no desire to touch something so pathetic and undeserving of their light, and soon his face faded, then the rest of clothes, only leaving a floating saucepan in the air. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Muddler so quietly desired, but he was still physically present, he was there, you just couldn't see him.

Hodgkins rushed out the pilot-house and approached the floating pan where he witnessed Muddler disappear. He reached out a hesitant paw and felt Muddler's jacket where it was meant to be, but still couldn't see. The saucepan rotated in the air as if it turned to look at him, Hodgkins seemed completely lost on any of this.

"Muddler...?" he managed to let out very quietly, misty-eyed.

Joxter and Moomin got out from below deck when they sensed the storm passed, and Hodgkins tried his best to explain what happened without cracking.

I would like to add on to this!

I feel like moomin would kiss the back of wimsys hand here and there and he would slow dance with wimsy if they where ever at a party and they played a slow song or if a couples dance came on- moomin(papa) thought it was the decent thing to do since they where both “singles” but wimsy was oblivious to it and thought it was sincere

Poor wimsy would go along with all of moomins outlandish (some times illegal ideas of adventure and chaos and such because he sincearly had feelings for the guy and I feel like they would exchange poetry together, poetry that would seem so romantic but only one sided

(wasn’t there a point where moomin papa said he had a poetry faze of some sort? I don’t know where I heard this or why I thought of it but correct me if I’m wrong)

Or to add on to then swapping poetry eventually that poetry is written for miss moomin (young moomin mama) and moomin(papa) asks Wimsy what he thinks of it before revealing it’s for a “lovely lady he rescued from the sea shore” and that all the other poetry before was just flowery practice for when he finally fell in love and wanted to write real poetry and this just shatters wimsys heart

Wimsy: you wrote this...?”

Moomin(papa): yes yes I know poetry isn’t my strong suit but what do you think...?”

Wimsy; It’s... it’s amazing! Well written and well- thought out as well-“ *wimsy gushing over the poem*

Moomin(papa):Oh great! Miss moomin will love this!”

Wimsy: Miss w h o ?”

After all who could care about some

Dumb hemulen like him?”

👤Headcanon👤

The Muddler and Joxter have been in a romantic relationship for a very long time but never informed Moomin about it. And Moomin, being a friendless and naive lad fresh out of the orphanage, managed to mistake Muddler and Joxter's affection as purely platonic, and assumed this is how male friendships usually go.

Things get really awkward between him and Wimsy once either of them figures it out years later.

I finished reading Scott pilgrim vs the world I liked it but it seriously had some issues- but besiDes that it was good! So I decided to draw my boyfriend and an ex over a specific Scott pilgrim page for fun! (I don’t take full credit since it’s mostly just traced over/edited version of the original)

This was a process ✨ lol

(Click for better quality)

Little bonus I drew a long time ago!

Finished animation! Well as close to finished as I’ll get of Course-

@autoheart