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blot... quite a fan of this little fella

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WOODLUCE WOODLUCE WOODLUCE WOODLUCE!!!!! and Walters there too! WALTER WALTER WALTER WALTER!! WOODLUCE WALTER WOODLUCE AND WALTER IS THERE WALTER AND WOODLUCE!!!

“What was she like?”

“

“What was she like?”

It’s a simple question. Walter, being the kid he is, probably holds no weight to the question like Woodie himself does; he does not see the significance of what he’s just asked Woodie to divulge.

The question hangs in the air for some time, and the quiet stretches on between them. Silence is a long-forgotten notion here in the forest, but its closest relative is quiet, Woodie’s found. The river below them rushes by with no less fervor than it did before the query was laid, and the wind rustling the pine needles above their heads continues like it didn’t hear it. Birds chip in the distance, the squirrels high in their trees continue with their adept nest-making, and deer far away continue to graze mindlessly on their grass.

It’s as if nothing happened, to everything else. But not to Woodie.

What was she like?

What wasn’t Lucy like?

Lucy, his other half. His darling wife. His best friend and only confidant, the only one with whom he could truly be himself.

He thinks back to those long nights, long before he’d known Walter or anyone else he’s now come to call his companion. Those nights where he hadn’t yet learned to control the plague that afflicts him, not under the full moon’s light. He thinks back to all of those lovely, quiet dinners shared in a cabin all by their lonesome, all of the nights spent getting to know each other, every single inch of the other’s body, and all of the nights they’d sat up until sunrise talking. They’d shared the good, the bad, and the ugly together, and they’d always come out… together. Flaws and all.

Especially Woodie’s.

For months he’d tried keeping his unfortunate affliction from her, always feigning some excuse, saying this-that-or-another kept him held up from plans around the full moon.

Lucy, the sharp woman she was, caught on rather fast.

“Woodie,” she’d chide, “Don’t you lie to me! You always get weird around this time.”

“‘S just a coincidence, dear,” he’d say. “I’ve got some important business goin’ on, ‘n’ I’d appreciate it if you'd let it go.”

And she did, for a while.

Nonetheless, about a year in, the inevitable happened.

Woodie had stumbled into their cabin, late for yet another one of their nights together, after a particularly rough transformation where he���d come head-to-head with a moose.

Lucy, who had been sitting downtrodden in the kitchen in front of a cold meal, shrieked.

“What happened to you!?” She’d shouted, rushing over to him. He’d been covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises, but most prominently, a large gash actively leaking blood from the top of his head.

“There was – agh – a moose – hnng – didn’t like me goin’ near her calves too much. Honest mistake, eh?” Woodie’s lie is obvious even to him, and his nervous smile and slurred speech are surely not helping.

“Woodie, I’ve damn near had enough of this!” She’d yelled, wrapping a portly arm around his shoulders to drag him forward towards the bedroom. “Sit down!”

She’d left him on the bed to stare at the moonlight forest through their window, contemplating his life choices and what lay in the future. He wondered if there was even a chance to come back from this, or if his overconfidence in his fighting skills had just ruined the best thing he’d ever had.

Sometime later, Lucy had returned to break him out of his daze. With her, she brought a bucket of water, a roll of gauze, and rage.

“This is the third time you’ve gone out for a day and came back half-dead! Either you tell me right now what’s going on, or… Ugh! You don’t wanna find out what I’ll do to you!” She had squeaked, and, despite the severity of the situation, Woodie had chuckled. She was so cute when she was worried…

That was the wrong move, apparently, as she continued to seethe.

“Hold still,” she’d commanded, voice dripping with fury, then dipped some of the gauze into the bucket and wrung the water out.

“Start. Talking.”

Woodie released a resigned sigh. As she’d tended to his wounds, Woodie had reluctantly spilled everything through gritted teeth. For once, Lucy just listened.

Her silence was eerie, and it signified the worst: that it was over. He just knew it was the end, that she would call him a lunatic and run for the trees, and it no longer was a matter of when.

And yet…

“That’s it?” She’d finally asked, breaking her silence once he was done. “All of this secrecy, just because you’re sick?”

It seemed like she hadn’t gotten it all the way, but she was trying. He wasn’t surprised about that part; if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t get it either. The part that struck him was that Lucy wasn’t disgusted, or God forbid scared. Those were the worst possible outcomes, and somehow, they’d been avoided.

But boy, was she angry.

“I can’t believe you hid it from me for that long! I would’ve at least tried to help you, you know,” she’d chastised. Once she’d finished patching him up, she’d commanded him to lay down.

“Now, I’m going to bring you dinner, you’re going to eat it, sleep, and then we’re going to talk about this in the morning. Got it?” she’d sternly said. She had her arms crossed, still in her day clothes, her hair messy and her forearms covered with splatters of his blood, and Woodie realized what being in love was like right then and there.

Beneath the layers of anger and frustration, Woodie saw real concern and compassion from the woman in front of him. It’s what surprised him the most. It’s what drew him to her from day one, and on that day, his mind was made.

Loud? Bossy? A little bit mean? Kind of screechy? Lucy was all of those things.

She was also loving, sweet, doting, and kind.

All of those things were things Woodie had come to love about her in the time before they were… separated. He’d come to love her and everything about her. Every feature, every flaw, and everything in between were all things that Woodie had grown to adore. The way she squeaked when she yawned, the way she hated to eat alone, the way she moved around in her sleep like a dancer… All of it.

Even the things about her that frustrated him were things he’d grown to love, and doubly so now that he didn’t ever get to experience them again.

What was she like?

Being around her was like the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen, all of the most vibrant warm tones swirling into a picturesque moment for your eyes and your eyes alone. She was like the freshest water, refreshing and energizing to behold. She was like the finest wine, leaving the most exquisite finish on your tongue that left you wishing for just one more sip, buzz be damned. She felt like the best rest after a long day of work, like the feeling of letting your sore muscles have a break when all was said and done. She was like like a warm fire after a freezing day, she was like the reprieve from a hellacious thunderstorm, and she was like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Or since.

Woodie looks down at Walter with sad eyes.

“She… She was perfect. There’s no one else like ‘er.”

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For no particular reason, I feel like pinging @notnotstarving. Nooo reason at all, haha.

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What have I done

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This idea kept gnawing at my brain at work and I had to get it out. I've always liked the idea of fankid crossovers and poor unfortunate Sarah seemed like a perfect fit since she and Grunedon both have beef with Volo... Sarah courtesy of @komaedamizuki/@xxhexfallennxx !

Bonus feature: Sarah's other interdimensional sister Cybil explains this particular timeline's foibles

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glow in the dark friend

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Fankid week 2025 day 3 (yes I'm miles behind shut up) Cybil and Gothita take a break from predicting horrible things in the future to get some fresh air!

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i did this and im so proud of it :3

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we got a guy arm wrestling a moose in dont starve

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Dst Squid Game AU

Because I was bored

Wilson is player 456 cuz he's main character duh

Maxwell is player 001, except he used to be the frontman and now he's a player cuz he pissed Them (the real people who created and fund the games) off.

Charlie's the actual frontman now

Don't worry guys they don't play against each other in this one, they play against some other randos we don't care about. Also Wickerbottom is the only reason Team 2 survives.

More shit under read more for those who are interested

The Guards

Wanda's a guard too, I just didn't wanna draw her.

I wanted Wortox to be a player, but he could be the recruiter lmao

(don't ask me about wormwood i have no idea what to do with him)

The Players

Thats all the drawing I had the energy to do but uh. As for the others and why they're here uhhh

Wilson blew up his Uni and has student loans

Wolfgang comes from a large, poor, immigrant family and he's pulling all his weight to help every single one of them out

Warly took a loan out to start his restaurant and it flopped lmao what a loser. Plus he couldn't really keep up with the workload with his mother's deteriorating health.

Wickerbottom's library blew up. Which was costly. She also did not want to participate in these sketchy ass games when she was recruited. But the business card Wortox gave her looks a lot like the one a frequent patron of the library (Willow) had on her before she went missing 🤔

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Silly fun fact: I main woodie and am annoyed that there is almost no canon wereform art

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BACK IN MY ROOTS, GOD MY BRAIN IS MELTING

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A nice little dst doodle dump it was mainly me trying to learn how to draw a bunch of other characters and I think I did not that bad for my first try!

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im glad they have each other 🥺🥺🥺🥺

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I started these fan arts last year, and I finally managed to finish them this month. From the enlightened surface to the nightmarish deeps of the Constant, I made these images to illustrate this Moon vs Shadows arc of Don't Starve. I hope you like them.

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in honor of dont starve’s 10th anniversary yesterday, some very old dst pieces of mine!

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Wes himself did not understand how he got into this team