#:// FILE : LOADING . . . HEADCANONS .

[karnaca78]

A sequel to this short comic because I have jumped into the Micolash & Maria interactions rabbit hole and I have THOUGHTS.

[gaiachose]

Also I've been thinking about Tseng a bit b/c I just... love my Turk boys and I dont get to write for them enough. So I might as well share some thoughts about him since I did Reno a day ago.

Tseng is his last name. His first given name is Xiyang which means "sunset". No one knows this unless they've seen his personel file. He always just introduces himself as Tseng.

He always has to be busy, he's a workaholic. He keeps the Turks moving.

He used to be more active in the field but after Zack's entire last stand he rarely does field work because he feels guilty not being able to save Zack from the Shinra army and if he had gotten to Zack faster with the Turks he felt he could've prevented his death. (even if he knows this isn't true)

Tseng is a very private person and rarely shows affection to anyone, but he's closest to Reno and Rude and he cares for the small group of Turks in the division.

He's pulled many all nighters in the office.

Like every employee he has official company housing in the Employee district. It's very minimalist.

He prefers tea over coffee.

[marcusrobertobaq]

Dbh androids got body hair, well...at least the male ones. The shaved effect is also noticable.

[lunatic-pudge]

Scout, Pyro, Demo, Medic, Sniper, and Spy Relationship Headcanons

Can you tell which ones are my absolute favorite:')

Scout

• Unsurprisingly, it takes him a long time to get over his infatuation of Ms. Pauling (I'm 110% convinced she's a lesbian), so you must be basically a deity to be catching his attention (though he'd the type to flirt with EVERYONE)

• Golden retriever energy, also youngest child energy. Constantly wants to do everything for you but also needs constant attention. He's also used to be getting picked on by the other mercs and his older brothers so he'll be going to you for validation. But he also doesn't want to appear weak so it'll take some time to break through his (fragile) shell.

• Love language: physical touch and acts of services. Will be constantly trying to act like a macho man for you but will also beg to hold your hand. Cuddles are constant. He may not be good at being a handyman, but my gods he's gonna try his darndest. Plz tell him that he did a good job, he's trying his best.

• He's the best person to go to if you wanna go on randon and unexpected adventures. One minute you're both in Teufort, the next your across country at the beach up east coast. Poor thing gets yelled at a lot for just uping and leaving without notice.

• Local snack dealer. Ma is always making sure that he's got sweets on hand. His room has care packages from her with some of the most wholesome letters from her and the box if FILLED to the brim with sweets, treats, and soda

Pyro

• My little baby boo, a wholesome partner who would kill for you. Can get jealous very easily so you might have to hold them back from committing manslaughter.

• Love language: quality time and gift giving. Time with Pyro is time well spent. Constantly just wants to be in the same room with you. They don't do well when you're not around. Also loves to give gifts. Most of their gifts consit of stuffed animals and handmade drawings. Your room will be filled with gifts from this goofball.

• In my opinion, they're a lot more there than people realize. Some days are better than others though. They were literally CEO of an engeneering company! And I believe they made all their weapons to but I could be wrong on that. Homie is definitely reliable when they're having a good day, but on the bad days, just sit and spend time with them. You don't gotta say anything, just knowing your right there beside them is enough conformation to know you'll always be there no matter what.

• You two are little troublemakers. You'll constantly be up to no good with them. It seems like harmless fun, but you've both almost burnt down the base five times just this month!

Demoman

• Probably one of the best lovers you could have out of all the mercs (aside from Engie, they're competing for the number one spot). I'm deducting points cause of the nonstop alcohol consumpution. :(

• But he is a happy goofy dunk so thank gods for that. Always happy to be here. Very attentive, caring, cuddly, overall a good person to date or even just be friends with.

• Cause the constant alcohol ruined a good portion of his memory (and Medic as well), he writes down every little detail of you that he can in a little journal he secretly keeps on his person. Important dates, likes, dislikes, ect. The man has it on file in case of emergencies.

• Love language: gift giving and act of services. He works three jobs and makes over 5 mil a year, he's LOADED. He's gonna buy you the world if you ask. Definitely good at money managing so he never worried at how much gifts cost. He's also gonna try his darndest to help you out with any problems, though it can be a bit hard when you're constantly drunk. Hims trying his best, okay?

• Wants his mom to approve of you but knows how critical she is of him. Poor baby has some self-esteem issuses cause of her so please give him lots of love and support. It's hard when your mom never has anything nice to say about you and compares you to everyone else. It's a neverending struggle. :(

Medic

• You're definitley into weird and questionable people if you like this man, and that means we're best friends now. :D

• He will ask you to help him out with surgeries and organizing his lab. You're hims little nurse. He'd probably (absolutley) be getting you a nurse outfit with his symbol on it.

• He's very much the possessive type. What's his is HIS, no if, ands, buts, or questions about it. Would put a tracker in you so he knows where you are at all times, but someone would have to talk him out of doing it... for now...

• Constantly talks about you to his birds, if any on them ever have babies, he's naming one after you. Would get you a stuffed dove plushie to cuddle with at night when he can't be there with you

• Love language: physical touch and quality time, you're ALWAYS welcomed in his lab, in fact, he expects you to be there with him. Is the type to ask you to grab something and will graze his hands against yours when grabbing it from you. (then give a shit eating smirk afterwards) He'd also be the type to stand VERY close to you, and stand behind you in an intimidating way to keep others from talking to you.

Sniper

• This man is my all time baby boy so I have LOTS to say about him and how much I love him :')

• Is someone who takes a while to get close to, especially in a romantic way. He's just a shy little boy who's used to being alone. But isn't introverted, just has introverted tendencies (you literally see him hanging out with some of the other mercs in Expiration Date)

• Love language: words of affirmations and physical touch, he sucks at verbally saying how he feels about you but will leave cute little love notes around for you to find. He's also VERY touched-starved so he will just flat out lay on top of you if you let him. Loves hearing you say how much you love him, plz just hold his hands and say how much he means to you, he might just cry from it.

• Is also someone who goes on random adventures, but they're usually just out and away from everyone. But I could see him taking you to a zoo or aquarium to look at the animals. But you're not allowed to go to a Humane Society cause you'll be walking out with all the animals they have and raising them like they're your babies,

Spy

• Another gremlin who takes a long time to warm up to you. He's a grumpy old man who's never really been with someone in such a serious light (aside from Scout's Ma)

• Love language: gift giving and words of affirmation, another merc who would buy you the world if you asked. Will only buy you the best of the best and will throw hands with someone if it's not up to his standards. He could go on about his love for you. His words sound like poetry. You'd wake up with a bouquet of roses and one of the most beautiful love letters anyone has ever read.

• Is 50/50 on PDA, he'll wrap an arm around your waist, call you beautiful, and give you a peck on the cheek in front of others but that's about it. Any extreme PDA is to be in private or you're getting a scolding.

• Would definitely help you learn French. He's way more patient with you than anyone else. You've seen him yell and insult every merc a couple times (Scout getting the brunt of it), but he refuses to ever say anything negative about you

• Definitely the bragging type. He'll put you on a pedestal and go on about how gorgeous you are. How you were crafted by gods, and so on. He thinks he's better than everyone else so if you're with him, than you're right up there with him.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Smut Headcanons - Amber

CW: Male!Reader, outdoors, scent kink, sloppy sex.

Amber’s Vision is very well deserved - she's optimistic, extraverted and very active. But on top of that? This. Girl. Is. Insatiable.

Her libido burns as brightly as the fire she uses. No matter the time of the day, Amber is more than ready to get some dick. What does she want to do with it? It doesn't matter if it's jerking it, licking, sucking or fucking - Amber is down. 

Don't you think she’ll go down easy! Her body is very fit and healthy, and so is her stamina. No matter how many times she cums, no matter how good you dick her, no matter if she's barely lucid from the hours upon hours of fucking - with slurred words, Amber’s going to beg you for one more round, one more orgasm, just one more…

The bunny vibe she's going for perfectly suits her - she definitely breeds like one. 

She can't be satisfied for longer, yes, but she still can be temporarily subdued. If handled right, Amber will settle down for a good while. Don't enjoy this too long though - she'll bounce back thirsty and ready to go. 

Drop that rubber because Amber likes it raw and natural. A hard cock and a wet pussy, plus some hands and mouths, are more than enough to have loads of fun. Some lube here and there helps too. 

When she was single, Amber had just a handful of toys to keep her raging sex drive under control. She jerked off very often, sometimes even daily with her fingers or a rubber dick. These days are long gone, and she couldn't be happier about it. She doesn't want to replace your wonderful rod for an artificial one, yes, but fingers are still fine by her - if it's you who's blasting her cunt, that is. 

Amber’s an outdoorsy girl, and she's always ready for some sightseeing - especially with you balls deep inside her. Being the Outrider has many perks, some of them being the knowledge of how Mondstadt’s reconnaissance works. She knows all the patrol routes by heart, and is more than familiar with a handpicked selection of safe, scenic and isolated spots. Most outings of this character are very much like picnics - a blanket, tasty food, drinks and lube is all she needs to get the party started. Nothing beats creaming on your dick to the wonderful sight of the mountains, she thinks. She likes to race to the spot two - the first gets to undress the other! 

Even if these spots are isolated, some precautions need to be taken, like, for example, stuffing her mouth with something. Amber is very vocal, so much so that a handful of noise complaints were filed by the neighbors after especially heated nights. Her moans are quite average in tone, but do take a higher pitch if you hit all the right spots. Sounds of her being sodomized would attract attention and spoil the mood, so the gag is a necessity. 

But she’s fine with it. Sure, gags made of her own panties are cool and all, but what about yours? Why not stuff her face full with your boxers?

Amber stuffers from a severe case of a scent kink. She's no stranger to sweat - sports and general physical activity are her hobbies, after all. But there's just something so sexy about the strong smell of your body right after a jog or a thorough exercise session. It really tickles her brain, as just a whiff brings up how beautifully your perfect muscles flex and move when you work out, and how wet all your groans make her… Don’t judge! She finds the overpowering smell of sweaty cock and balls much more arousing than her cunt’s, so she'll be glad to get a solid whiff of your pants if you let her! 

Amber likes to get some of that fresh adrenaline into sex. She likes to fuck right after some solid exercise, when you're hearts are still racing and veins pumping with activity. And yeah, all sweaty, just like that. 

She's really into sloppy stuff. Rimming? Anal? Facials? Getting her face fucked? Swallowing loads of salty cum? Pressing her face right into your big, smelly, sweaty balls? Controversial to some, but hot as hell in her books!

Loves to race you to your spots of choice. The winner gets to top!

Amber doesn't really have a strong preference for where she wants to be - she can both fuck and be fucked, that's more than fine by her. That said, she does lean towards being submissive to you.

She just wants to feel that male strength, you know? Be completely pinned by your strong arms, hear you groan into her ear as you use her pussy so rough her thighs tremble for hours after you're done. Or feel that large hand slap her ass, leaving painful, red handprints on her delicate skin. Or maybe be lifted, be completely trapped by your muscular frame and used like a warm, moaning cock sleeve~

Treat her right and you'll end up with a happy, spent (temporarily) bunny curled into your body while your mind still spins from the inhuman effort it took to bring your girl down. 

Thanks for reading!

[mythandlaur]

I like the headcanon that Jeremie actually had a lot of battles during the fight with XANA...except most of them were really mundane, incomprehensible to anyone else, and against the supercomputer itself.

I mean, the whole thing was built by one guy, who probably made his own programming language for it, in 1994, while actively in the process of going insane. It was a marvel! A masterpiece of technology far beyond its time! And its codebase was probably spaghetti on top of spaghetti on top of a dumpster fire. Hence Jeremie having a love-hate relationship with first the computer and then Franz Hopper himself, constantly oscillating between "wow! how did you do this?!" and "oh god, how did you do this?"

The scanners and RTTP work nigh-perfectly because they were thoroughly tested, and Lyoko itself mostly runs very well, but also there's a pebble in the forest sector that cannot be removed or all the textures turn into checkerboard for no discernible reason, everyone's models have loaded in missing any kind of physics at least once, all of the shaders broke at some indeterminate point right after Aelita was first materialized and he still has no idea how that happened, why can't he spawn anything less than three meters above the ground without it ending up IN the ground, yes those are two rocks inside of each other stop giggling, what do you MEAN THERE'S A MEMORY LEAK, WHERE IS THERE A MEMORY LEAK, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME SOMEBODY CLEARED THE TEMP FILES ON THIS THING, WHERE EVEN ARE THE TEMP FILES THIS SYSTEM MAKES NO SENSE--

He keeps having to ask weird programming questions on internet forums and laments that he has to know an equal amount about 3D physics rendering engines and QUANTUM PROBABILITY MATHEMATICS to make the thing work. Plus he tries to do some things remotely, but his laptop can't run half the supercomputer's programs, and the other half he's remote editing over terrible 2006 school-wide wi-fi that craps itself every time some 10th grade bozo down the hall tries to pirate anime.

[bihanspookies]

Could you do headcanons of Ghost, Gaz, Soap and Graves challenging the reader to marksman contest? (You can choose who wins in each)

Forgive me, bc I am not a Graves girly so I turned to the best Graves fucker I know @chadillacboseman for assistance

Regardless I hope you enjoy 🫡

Ghost

• Congratulations! You almost caused a mission to go straight into hell and your Lieutenant was pissed. It was an accident really, what should’ve been a single headshot turned into one grazing the enemy’s head and then another that hit where it was supposed to in the first place.

• Ghost had pulled you aside back at base, questioning your skills and if you were actually competent enough to be a soldier.

• Of course you were competent enough! If you weren’t you wouldn’t be here now would you? But your LT seems to think otherwise, putting you to a test to see if you could get a better score than him.

“You get a better score, I’ll let you off the hook and won’t put this in your file. Understood?”

You gave a firm yes, loading your gun and waiting for Ghost to go first. You barely clicked it into place before he started to unload all his bullets into the target, all of them right on or near the center.

He turns to you, expressionless and places his gun on the table. He says nothing except crosses his arms over his broad chest and that’s when you realize he’s waiting for you to go.

You scramble back into your booth, slipping your earmuffs and protective goggles on. You grab your gun and point, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you fire off.

Of course the first one is massively off course, having you internally curse before slapping yourself mentally to get your head in the game. You wanted to look good in front of your Lieutenant, show him that you were meant to be here but he was making it increasingly hard with his intimidating presence.

Steadily you regained yourself, focusing your attention on the target and you let the bullets loose. Not quite as great as Ghost but close enough. You slipped your earmuffs around your neck, turning back to look at him and waiting for his feedback. He simply stared at you, saying nothing before handing you more bullets.

“Again.”

Gaz

• It can’t just be work work work on the base, you gotta have some fun too every once in a while.

• You guys were chugging a few beers, still buzzing from an earlier mission that went off without a hitch. So naturally he asks if you want to head to the range for a little ‘friendly competition’.

• It was friendly in the beginning until he realized that you were slowly getting better shots than him. Quicker than quick he sobered up.

“Just a little ‘friendly competition’ hm?” You teased, watching him concentrate as he puts another hole right in the center of the target. He laughs, removing his earmuffs and giving you one of his famous smiles.

“What can I say? You just bring out the competitor in me, darling.”

You can’t help but chuckle, giving a pat on his back before going back to it and determined to get a better score.

You’re still there about an hour later, neither of you letting up and wanting the other to win.

“Last round, love?” Gaz says, reloading his gun before stepping back into his booth.

“Oh scared that I’m going to beat you?” You can’t help but poke fun him, his beautiful eyes sparkling in amusement as a fit of laughter escapes him.

“Terrified.”

In less than a minute both your pistols are empty, Gaz pulling in the sheets that was were chock full of holes. He rips his off and holds it up to compare to yours.

“Just as I suspected.”

You go to his side to look, ready to rub your victory in his face.

“A tie!”

He smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Next time I’ll be the winner, love.” He winks at you, resting his head on top of yours.

Soap

• You were outside practicing, needing to let off some steam after a not so friendly review from your captain. Your shots were wild and off center, too consumed by your frustration to actually try and get good hits in.

• You don’t even hear Soap come up behind you and watch as you shoot bullet after bullet, making him wince every time you missed.

• After a while he finally had enough, catching you when you emptied your gun by placing a soft but firm hand on your shoulder.

“Jesus bonnie, you’re shootin’ like shit out here.” He tries to make you laugh, sensing the tension in your body. You only shake him off and groan, going back to reload your gun before he stops you again.

“C’mon now, let’s do this properly yeah?” He fixes your stance, body behind yours as he guides your movements and gives you pointers right in your ear.

“Just. Breathe.”

Your shots are better sure but that doesn’t make you any less upset and he can tell. He grabs your attention once more, a look of concern on his face.

“Tell you what darling, you get a better score than me I’ll let you buy me dinner.”

That makes you crack a smile, tilting your head in confusion as you hear his proposition.

“Shouldn’t it be you that buys me dinner if I win?”

He grins wide at you, winking before grabbing his own gun and getting ready to aim and fire. Later when both your targets are full of holes, you can already tell he’s won before even seeing it up close. Your mood sours again but you do your best to hide it.

“So, where would you like to go for dinner?” He asks you, making you look at him in confusion.

“But I lost?”

“Aye, and I won. So now I get to treat you out to dinner. Again I ask, where would you like to go?”

Graves

• Now what were you thinking accepting a challenge from Graves of all people. Have you seen how cocky and arrogant he is, of course he’s gonna go all out in this.

• Shows off his skills because if you didn’t pick it up already, he’s doing this to impress you (don’t ask about his backwards logic that to impress you he’s gonna kick your ass)

• He can and WILL use pet names bc one he’s a flirt and two he wants to try and throw you off your game.

“C’mon sweetheart just a quick game, just you n me, out in the woods and shooting the shit. Whaddya say?” He’s got his hands on his hips, a confident smirk, and his rifle perched on his back. You roll your eyes so hard that you see stars but you can’t deny that his smug attitude and that good ol’ Southern charm does tug at your curiosity.

Sure you were a good shooter but were you good enough to beat him?

Short answer is: no

But damn if you didn’t have Graves sweating in his boots when it was your turn. Especially when you were so far hitting every can without even breathing.

“C’mon baby c’mon baby…” He’s muttering to himself, watching as you set up to take the final shot at a swinging can. He’s counting on the wind and his own presence to distract you and throw you off guard.

He almost wanted to hold back his yell of glee when your bullet grazed the can instead of sniping it clean off. Instead he settled for a very sarcastic and fake sound of disappointment.

“Fuck darlin’, sure is a shame.” He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, tutting his tongue before turning to you with a big smile.

“Now about that bet.”

“We didn’t make a bet.”

“Oh, didn’t we? Well I won and I’m saying we did so.” He pretends to inspect his nails before looking you up and down, shamelessly ogling you.

“I got a few ideas in mind for this winner.”

[palfriendpatine66]

My headcanon: Obi-Wan loves to wear his mandalorian armor, it makes him feel safe... Anakin finds it hot..

Nonnie. Anakin isn’t the only one to find this hot…

[send a nsfw prompt or headcanon and I’ll answer with a 5 sentence ficlet)

Obi-Wan loosens his pauldrons as he staggers into their shared tent and uncharacteristically lets them fall to the hard ground as they will, the tent flap swirling the thick smell of smoke and plasma around them as it flutters closed.

Anakin can’t tear his eyes away from the sight, drawn toward Obi-Wan’s weary, armored form as though pulled by a tractor beam. “Let me help you,” he murmurs and reaches out to still the bloody knuckles that move to the fastenings of the loaded utility belt.

“I’m more than capable of undressing myself, thank you,” Obi-Wan grumbles as his belt slips to the ground with a solid thunk and Anakin’s long, graceful fingers work their way to his codpiece and toss it aside.

Of course the High General was capable, just as he had been capable on the battlefield as the sun beat down on his gleaming armor, flashing as he hew down droids and returning volley after volley of blaster fire, never flagging. Anakin had had to file away the sight, saving it for a time when the explosions stopped and the battle had been won and he could truly appreciate just how capable Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had looked in his red Mandalorian armor.

“I know,” Anakin sank to his knees and pulled Obi-Wan’s cock from his blacks, just beginning to thicken in response to Anakin’s touch. His mouth watered at the sight, anticipating the heady feeling of Obi-Wan’s arousal growing and filling his mouth until he could no longer take it all and his tears and spit and drool spilled down to soil beskar shin guards. “But where’s the fun in that?”

[deepdrownlamentt]

Can I ask for some Headcanons for Nearl, Platinum and Blemishine with an overworked S/O?

blemishine, nearl, and platinum with an overworked s/o

content warnings: none

note: i spy a kurantaknights enjoyer huh 🙈 i understand . they're all so goopy . i keep putting off properly building Any of them tho 😭 this is my first time writing for all three of them so i hope they're not too ooc, and i'm sorry these turned out a little shorter than normal !! either way, i hope you enjoy!

↬BLEMISHINE's sunny, industrious demeanour almost gives the impression that she doesn't know how to get tired, but she has limits of her own, of course. she notices the bags under your eyes first, then the way you seem to fidget even after hours.

↬ she seems the type to help you get your mind off of things! why don't you watch her in the workshop for a little while — she'll hide from her training with whislash for a while longer and tell you how the new thingamabob she made works.

↬ you don't have to be pressured to listen if you don't want to, of course, but getting you to take a break is her main goal. here, let her explain the design she drew up for her new equipment, and... oh? did you fall asleep? that's alright, then — she'll rub a bit of stray motor oil off your face and carry you back to bed.

↬ NEARL is almost scarily quick to notice any changes in your demeanour. have you been zoning out more than usual, or staying in the office long after the end of the day? she doesn't seem the type to shy away from asking you about it directly.

↬ always dependable, nearl offers to lighten some of your load. the more people working on it, the sooner it'll get done, no? she doesn't like seeing you stressed, after all — let her bring you a warm drink and help you out.

↬ she knows all too well the toll that overworking can take on someone, and so she makes it a point to always keep you company while you finish the last of your work. don't worry, she'll say, she'll stay right here with you — and if you need anything, she'll be at your beck and call.

↬ PLATINUM likes to think she's rather observant of you, and so she's similarly quick to notice if something doesn't seem quite right about you. she's never understood those super-hardworking types, after all, but she understands you, at the very least.

↬ much like blemishine, she'll offer to take you out on a stroll to take your mind off of things. the gardens are always a good spot, and if not there, why don't you stop by the kitchen and grab some snacks? hey, if work is so troubling, why don't you just file for a leave? she'll ask. no? ah, how complicated.

↬ she seems rather flippant about your working habits, but she's been watching your reactions for a while now, ever since she offered to take you out for a while — if the crease in your brow has eased at all, or if your shoulders have relaxed even a little bit. she very promptly ignores any questions about why she's been staring at you so intensely, though... a girl has her secrets, after all.

[athena-studios]

🌱🍃 NOW PLAYING... 🍃🍏

Taylor Swift — Call It What You Want

01:33 ━━━━●─────── 03:50

↻loading…↻

   ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆."I want to wear his initial

                          on a chain 'round my neck." ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

⨳ 𓏲˖ 🩹 ˖ ࣪ 📓 ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

introducing…ATHENA'S CALL OF DUTY MW2 MASTERLIST ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

˖ ࣪ .  🦢 ࿐ ♡  ˚ .

genre keys:

fluff— εїз

angst— ✧

smut/18+— ✿

𖦹 📄 ໑ ⿻ 🗝️𓄹˖  ݁.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

♡⤷ JACKET— εїз

synopsis: You and your teammates are on the rooftop for drinks. it's cold and you don't have a jacket; but Ghost, you "enemy" does.

♡⤷ WINE DRUNK— εїз

synopsis: simon's wife comes home wine drunk.

♡⤷TREASURE—εїз

synopsis: you(simon's daughter) meet his teammates for the first time!

˚୨୧ ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 . 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ ✧ . ˖˳

♡⤷HEADCANONS OF PRICE AS YOUR SUGAR DADDY 18+ MDNI— ✿

John "Captain" Price

˚୨୧ ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 . 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ ✧ . ˖˳

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

˚୨୧ ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 . 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ ✧ . ˖˳

♡⤷ERROR—no works found in this file ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

♡⤷ERROR—no works found in this file ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

˚୨୧ ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 . 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ ✧ . ˖˳

banners made by cafekitsune !

૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა goodbye, have a nice day! ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

[marksbear]

if u write for the Riddler, can you do a m.reader x Riddler where the reader works for the police and is secretly dating him? Maybe with dom/sub undertones where the reader is the one with full control — ⚰️

It would be my first time for writing him! I hope you like the fic my friend! ⚰ I chose to write the riddler from the batman movie, but if you want the one from Gotham just simply tell me!

SUB RIDDLER X DOM COP MALE READER

"Edward-- No I mean fucking Riddler. When the hell are you gonna lay off the murder and torture."

Edward nervously turns around from his messy desk looking up at Y/n. Y/n holds the loaded gun to Edwards head. "Y-Y/n! uhm. I--" Edward chokes on his earning a laugh from Y/n.

"I'm only joking with you Ed." Y/n says putting his gun back in the holster. "But seriously lay off some. You're getting out of hand with this. And plus my boss is gonna give me more hours since all the shit you're going." Y/n puts his hand on his boyfriend's head giving his forehead a light kiss.

"I promise you that Batman sees you Ed. Everyone sees you. Your the talk of the office all the time." Y/n says pulling his boyfriend up off his chair. "Just be careful Ed. I love you too much to see you get hurt. And I don't wanna see you inside those bars. So promise me you're gonna be careful."

"I promise Y/n. I'll be careful."

"Good boy." Y/n responds back giving him a light kiss on the lips before sitting him back down on his chair. Edward looks up at Y/n in a trance. "You can continue what you were doing." Y/n tells his boyfriend giving the back of his head one last kiss before leaving the room.

Moments like that terrified Edward. Even though Y/n and him were dating for a long time and he knew that Y/n loved him no matter what it still scares him.

Theres no telling that one day Y/n isn't joking and actually shoots him or arrests him. He hated the way Y/n was fully in control. Y/n always had control over him since day one.

Edward thought once he revealed his little villain persona to Y/n that Y/n would be scared of him. He wanted to bow down to if he was some sort of king, but Y/n half other plans. Once Edward revealed himself as the Riddler Y/n already had a gun to Edward.

"I already knew. But thanks for telling me. I figured it was you a long time ago love. But since I love you too much to give you to my evil co-workers i'll leave you alone. But don't think I won't hesitate to take you down my love." Y/n confesses putting the gun on a flat surface before stalking up to his boyfriend.

"You look cute with your little costume. I like it on you." Y/n kisses the top of the mask where the head is supposed to be before leaving Riddler alone with his thoughts.

Editor Bear!: Because I felt like the fic was too short I added some headcanons!

Edward would leave Y/n tiny messages on his victims. It would be for Y/n to only recognize it. And sometimes would use the little riddle cards to communicate with Y/n using letters to spell out words.

Y/n hides / takes anything that can get Edward caught.

Y/n using his car sirens to get through traffic so he can pick up Edward after work.

Edward and Y/n exchange riddles back and forth during lazy days.

Edward picking up habits from Y/n. Like how Y/n studies information, drinking coffee,

Edward passes around the idea of you joining him to be a villain.

Y/n giving Edward private information about the person hes stalking about. Like giving him personal files about the person.

Edward standing in the background watching Y/n alongside the other officers work.

THE END!

[under-lore]

The red soul trait is not determination

One piece of fanon that has become so widespread in the community that some even forget that it isn’t canon is the idea that the red soul represents determination.

We know about the six other soul traits from the ball game in Snowdin.

The 7 possible flags in this game fit with the 7 soul colors. The first 6 can all be linked to the fallen human’s traits.

The last possible flag however, the red flag, simply restates the previous traits in a more explicit manner and associates them with their colors. Saying that a combinaison of all of them led us to victory.

Getting the red flag a second time will result in the red flag getting some different dialogue relating to Frisk’s sense of selfhood.

The red soul trait does not ever get explicitly associated with a trait unlike the other ones. Yet is often assumed to be determination due to DT’s importance in Undertale in general and some flavor text.

But the thing is... Frisk does not actually have special ties with determination other than those that naturally come with being a human.

Firstly, having high amounts of the determination substance like Frisk does is the norm for humans and is not a particularity of Frisk’s.

This is especially relevant considering that dialogues from Toriel and Asgore also imply the 6 fallen humans had the power to SAVE and LOAD too before eventually giving up when fighting the latter.

Frisk’s determination is really nothing out of the ordinary for human standards and simply wouldn’t be warrant of being Frisk’s trait, even if determination had been an actual trait. Which is already quite dubious in itself as determination in Undertale is primarly a substance to which the feeling is secondary.

if anything, there would be more basis on associating Frisk with patience than with determination. That one is actually associated with Frisk’s personality unlike the latter.

As for the flavor texts, Toby has mentioned the SAVE points to be a manifestation of one’s determination.

The 6 humans and Flowey were also able to SAVE/LOAD. Accordingly, the fallen humans and Flowey all had their own SAVE points and each of them was “filled with determination” next to the manifestation of their own determination.

These flavor texts again do not represent anything that’s associated with Frisk in particular and do not tie them to the feeling of determination more than any of the other humans.

To continue, determination is never linked to the color red in Undertale at any point. The two are never even vaguely implied to have anything to do with each other at all.

The concept of the burden of proof dictates that the one making the claim has to be the one providing evidence for said claim, otherwise it is invalid and should be assumed to be wrong by default. Red determination is incapable of providing any evidence for itself that holds ground. Because of this, it cannot even be considered as a theory, it is just a headcanon.

However, the game does actually provide plenty of evidence which goes against it.

Determination is golden

Determination might never be tied to the color red whatsoever, but it does actually get hinted on several occasions to be of a specific color. And that color is actually that of gold.

Firstly, the SAVE points have already been stated by Toby Fox to be a manifestation of pure determination. It is thus only logical that the color of the SAVE points would be the color of determination.

That color is #fff200 gold.

Whenever a SAVE file is SAVED using said SAVE points, the text of the file goes from white to gold at the exact moment the button is pressed, thus using determination to SAVE it.

Whenever Flowey SAVES a SAVE file in a neutral route, this text is gold colored as well. (LOADS remain white however)

Similarly, in the menu, the continue and reset buttons flash gold when we hover over them.

All golden flowers in Undertale always come in 3 different shades, all except one which has apparently shifted away from its natural color at some point.

The exception is non other than Flowey himself. Flowey is a slightly brighter shade of gold than any other golden flower in UT. Not only that, but the shade of gold Flowey has just so happens to actually be the exact same one as the color of the SAVE points and presumed color of determination :  #fff200.

Flowey was injected with determination after all, that color change Flowey had is very likely to have come from Alphys' experiments during which the flower took the taint of the substance it was injected with in large amounts : Determination.

Even Alphys, who has seen pure DT and who out of any character should have at least a rough memory of the color it had, writes the word "determination" in a shade close to that of the SAVE points in the true lab.

In the meantime, determination is never written in red.

It is noteworthy that not all instances of this use the exact same shade of gold. That being said, it is not arguable that determination is constantly associated with a golden color.

It goes without saying that if determination is golden colored, it doesn’t make sense for it to be the red soul trait. A color that DT is not associated with a single time in the whole game.

The SAVE power inconsistency

On top of the golden color issue, there is one huge contradiction to the idea that determination could be the red soul trait.

The six fallen humans, who did not have red souls, had the power to SAVE.

Chara, who did have a red soul, did not have the power to SAVE.

With the other six humans being determined enough to be able to reach the treshold but not Chara. We find ourselves in a situation where out of the 7 humans that came before Frisk, the only one of them who had a red soul was the one with the least determination of them all.

Needless to say that Chara’s soul trait being determination simply does not make any sense. And subsequently, it being the red soul trait would not either.

What is the red soul, then ?

The true nature of the red soul trait is unknown, that being said, there are multiple other theories about its nature which all have actual evidence backing them up in the game such as “Ipseity”, “Love”, “Hope”, or even “A combinaison of the 6 other traits”.

[starleska]

stop all this wholesome >:( I wanna know your hcs on Dark!Wally. Explore how evil he is. What kinda horrible agenda he has goin on. Your choice if its still a x reader im just curious how you'd interpret it- ... Dont feel forced to do so btw feel free to ignore this if it aint yer cup of tea ToT

hahahaha, this gave me a great laugh!! you've caught me, anon - i am very much a fan of evil, devious, villainous, morally bereft and just plain dreadful characters. you'll see from my f/o tracker that i'm quite the bad guy connoisseur - i just haven't explored that with Wally yet because we know so little about what his agenda is!! it's Wally's ambiguity that makes him so fun to play with;;;

i'd love to fill this out with some potential theories, if you'll humour me 😉 gonna pop this under a spoiler tag as well just in case this speculation turns out correct, and for the warnings!!

content warnings for potential Welcome Home spoilers, scopophobia, stalking, murder, cannibalism, and cults:

Dark!Wally (or potentially, just Wally) Darling headcanons:

⭐ Wally is using us as food. ever since we found out about Wally eating with his eyes, i haven't been able to get this idea out of my head. everything from everyone looking up at the tracker on the website, to Wally watching us from the other side of the screen, has me wondering exactly why he loves us so much, and why he seems happy to engage with all of us pouring in to look at the site. i'm wondering if Wally is something of a psychic cannibal - someone who is able to devour essence through attention, particularly through eye contact. there is something he's getting from us interacting with him on the website, and i feel like his love is of the possessive variety...he needs us for something that we don't understand yet. ⭐ Wally 'fed' his neighbourhood friends to his Home, and is play-acting as if his friends are still alive by interacting with us. some eagle-eyed fans noticed recently that in one image, Wally's armchair has a stitched-on patch that looks suspiciously like Barnaby's skin. likewise, there's a very strange file name on one of the drawings Wally did on the Guestbook, in a comment talking about Eddie, where he says he 'runs too much'. we know that Home is alive, and that Wally talks to Home. we also don't know why Wally's house is the only one with apparent sentience. my question is...how is Home fuelled? and why is Wally the only one talking to us through the Guestbook if his puppet-self is alive - where is everyone else? my (very thin) speculation is that Wally may have sacrificed his friends to keep Home alive, but suffered a mental breakdown as a result, and wants to preserve their old life through the website as if nothing is wrong. ⭐ Wally is a vain attention hog who wants to be back in the spotlight. this one is bare-bones, but hear me out - this can go a couple of ways! if we choose to believe the Wally speaking from within the website is, somehow, a sentient puppet (or his consciousness is infused with the website), we could also believe that he may miss his apparently peaceful, love-filled life from another time. perhaps Wally was alive during the original run of Welcome Home, and somehow remained alive following its cancellation. perhaps he feels spurned now he's no longer the friendly neighbourhood host of the television show long-forgotten to the public...where better to try and gain a new audience than online, under the guise of a restoration project? we could even make a potential cult leader argument here... again, this is all pure speculation!! we have no idea at all what Wally's agenda is at this stage, and that's a good thing;; it's going to be loads of fun learning more about Wally and what his intentions are. i'd love to hear people's theories 😉

[gaystims]

How to make headcanon GIF's

What you will need

VLC media player

A video/edpisode/series/ect of the character you're making headcanons for

EzGif

Photopea

What you should probably have (not required)

A VPN

The whole series of whatever you want to GIF

An Adobe account so you can use Abobe express

A hard drive (this shit takes up a LOT of space, especially if you're batch downloading a series)

Now that you have all the basics let's get started!

Step one: Choosing a character

Obviously this process will vary from person to person, sometimes a headcanon is hard to prove with canon, sometimes it's easy.

For this we're going to go easy so we will be making GIF's of Maomao from the Apothecary Diaries displaying autistic symptoms.

She's basically a cat so this won't be too hard (does anyone else remember the autism cat or am I just old?)

Step two: Downloading the source

This can be a difficult process and (while I'm more than happy to help) I won't be sharing where I download anime from (Loose lips sink ships) although a quick google search into how to torrent anime will work.

Anyway I have the whole series downloaded for this, it's much easier to do the whole series.

Step three: Cutting the video/finding a scene to GIF

Best way to do this? Get your autism glasses on and pick up on all the details that make you think this character is autistic.

For me, one of the 'signs' is the way Maomao is obsessed with poisons and herbalism, so a good scene for me to GIF is when she's allowed into the doctors medicine draws.

But how do you clip a scene from a whole vedio?

Simple, you record the scene you want to GIF with VLC! Just hit the red dot (circled in red here) and let the scene play out!

I would personally allow a few seconds before the specific scene and a few seconds after to play, because sometimes the video can glitch.

Step four: Making the GIF

Next you'll need to go to EzGif and upload the clip you made, if the clip you made is too long you can use Adobe Express to trim it.

When your video is uploaded (it can take a while sometimes) you need to trim the length to the closest second that shows what you want to GIF, then you need to edit the GIF size so it's not too big for tumblr.

Here are the measurements we use!

Hit confirm and now you have a GIF!

Step five: Cropping and trimming

At the bottom of your GIF you should see a row of options of what to do with it.

Personally I would crop the GIF first and then do frames because frames takes longer to load larger GIF's.

To crop I hit the square option and drag out the edges, then process the GIF. Then I hit frames and press skip for any frames I don't want in the end GIF.

Then save it.

Step six: Adding Text

Now you will need Photopea where you will need to open the GIF.

I have a file saved for the text so I can copy and paste what I want it to say so it looks the same, for you though you need to type the text out.

Hit the text button (red) and then type out what you want it to say, change the font with the blur circled and the outline/font color with green.

I personally use a rainbow overlay for the text because I'm ~fancy~ and the autism symbol is mostly represnted as a rainbow.

Step seven: Exporting as a GIF

After typing out what the scene represents, you need to save the GIF.

Go to File > Export as > GIF

Step eight: Repeat eight times

And then you stick them all together and make a board

This is the finished GIF set for this tutorial!

[unholy-screeching9]

I m sorry to bother you but…..do you think you could do KD x reader where they both have a shitty day and just need each other? Like they cuddle? Everybody needs comfort, even the greatest showman on inkwell isles!^^

You don't even know how much I needed to write this. These past few weeks have been hell for me, so it was so nice to finally be able to write something again, especially something comforting <3

There's some suggestive content in here still, so I advise everyone to be careful!

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

King Dice x Reader "Bad Day Headcanons"

SONG RECOMMENDATION: “I’ll Never Smile Again” - Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey

King Dice x Reader “Bad Day” Headcanons (GAME)

If anyone were to ask King Dice what it’s like to be the right hand man of the Devil himself, why, he’d say it’s a dream. The best thing that’s ever happened to him. Well, maybe the second best. Marrying you will always come first. 

He really does enjoy his job as the casino’s manager, and doesn’t mind the workload. To be surrounded by fawning fans and patrons, collecting their wallets, possessions, and damn souls from right under their noses? The job is certainly never boring. The poor fools who enter make sure of that. 

King Dice always enjoys a good gamble. Whether it’s a friendly game of poker, craps, roulette, or even a bet on which racehorse would take the prize, the manager clings to the thrill of the risk like a drug. 

But the thing about addiction is, you never realize how much you’re suffering until it’s much too late to do anything about it. More often than not, you tend to bite off much more than you can chew. 

Dice occasionally finds himself in this position, having become in over his head. Sometimes, the die gets a small reality check of his own. 

This reality check comes in many different forms. Not that he ever loses a bet, of course. The King never loses, and he intends to keep it that way, no matter how dirty his hands get. There’s a reason why the house always wins, and Dice is that reason. 

Instead, his reality check comes in the form of angry patrons who have had one too much to drink, picking a fight with the manager. A demanding boss constantly looming over his shoulders, nitpicking Dice’s methods and making it incredibly difficult for him to do his damn job. 

The crushing weight of pressure to keep up a perfect approachable appearance, luring the poor fools of Inkwell inside the Devil’s mitts like a lion tricking its prey. 

Not to mention the heavy workload of papers to sign, contracts to file, tailoring appointments to keep his style consistent with whatever trends might be appearing, exhausting measures to keep his boss happy, stocking of supplies, the list could go on. 

Normally, it’s manageable enough. Some of the tasks overlap, and Dice manages to find a nice, smooth routine to keep everything in order, especially with the help of his cards. 

Typically, they will work behind the scenes while Dice manages the front, filing his papers for him, checking the drink stocks from behind the counter (the Tipsy Troop is of very little help at times), or even just forging Dice’s signature on a few of his contracts to lighten his load. 

This way, all the King really has to deal with is a few tiffs with particular drunkards, looking pretty, and keeping his staff in line. 

However… sometimes, the workload is just too much for Dice to handle, even with his cards and his staff scrambling to help the poor man keep a level head. 

Sometimes, Dice is kept after his shift usually ends, signing contracts until he can barely see straight, fingers ready to fall off. 

Sometimes, Dice gets scuffed up during a fight, causing a small crack in his head, or a few rips in his suit. 

Sometimes, the Devil is too irate to effectively calm down, and Dice is on the receiving end of his boss’s wrath whether what caused the ruckus was his fault or not. 

Sometimes… Dice just can’t take it. 

There have been numerous occasions where you’ve watched him trudge inside your chambers, completely worn out, a sour expression on his face. Dice can’t even smile at you or offer any kind of greeting as he shucks off his shoes and jacket, frustratedly kicking the objects off to the side. 

You hate seeing him like that. It’s not like him, at all. He deserves so much better than what he’s given, and you wish you could do something about his awful working conditions. 

On the nights your husband returns to you looking beaten and weary, you do the one thing that you know he’ll never oppose. You guide him into laying on top of you, his aching head resting over your chest, listening to your soft, steady heartbeat.

You simply hold him in your arms and hum a relaxing tune, your fingers gently running over the crisp edges of his head. It relaxes him almost instantly. 

Very few words are exchanged between the two of you. Dice is too tired and frustrated with everything to vent, and you don’t push him. You won’t even try to make small talk. Sometimes, there’s just no point in speech. 

No… sometimes, things are meant to be silent. And comforting Dice after a horrible day at work is usually one of those times. 

In the early hours of morning, you may occasionally wake up and find Dice staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep with too much on his mind. It is here when he finally opens up to you, spilling the details of why he entered your chambers in such a cranky mood. 

You say nothing, just letting him speak, not even flinching when he occasionally raises his voice, gesturing irritatedly with his hands. You barely even bat an eye when he lets out a frustrated huff, grumbling under his breath about how different he wishes his life turned out, falling onto his back with a defeated sigh. 

What does get your heart caught in your throat, is when his hand finds yours from under the covers. When he gives you a gentle squeeze, shifting close to you and rubbing his thumb over the smooth, shiny gold of your wedding ring. 

“You’re the only good thing that’s come out of this mess, doll.” 

Before you can even respond, Dice is asleep, his hand still squeezing your own like a lifeline.   

Well, that certainly gets your heart to flutter. 

You can absolutely relate to his struggles, as you have had many, many bad days of your own. More than you can count. Fortunately, it’s usually nothing you can’t deal with yourself.

You can handle a hard day with your own job. You can handle coming home to the casino’s chaotic ambiance after a hard day at work, with a couple drinks and a quick smoke for good measure. You can handle the long wait for your husband to return from his shifts and into your quarters. The wait is a hundred times worth it for that sweet, sensual embrace he gives you (and whatever follows afterwards). 

What gets you slightly miffed is the treatment from the folks around you who are cautious, curious, and just damn nosy over your relationship with King Dice. Repeated. Near constant. 

If you need to answer one more goddamn question about Dice’s ability as the Devil’s right hand man to love, one more inquiry over whether or not the man has you in some sort of trance, one more jealous complaint from the filthy drunkards who can’t learn to keep to themselves, your head just might fall off its shoulders.

It’s not that you’re not used to the comments and questions, it’s not that you can’t handle the occasional jab from another being. It’s definitely not that you’re protective of your husband, when he can certainly protect himself and you as soon as he feels the need to. It just… it gets so god damn annoying after a while.

And some days, you just can’t. 

The pressure of your job, worrying over your lover and his duties, dealing with the obsessive freaks? It’s certainly difficult not to crack. 

What ends up tipping you over the edge is any extra conflict life decides to throw at you on that particular day. Your boss gives you a hard time over something unwarranted. Someone bumped into you and spilled a drink all over you, so you have to work in soiled clothing.

You’ll never admit it to yourself (or anyone else), but you’re a ticking time bomb on the daily, waiting for one final push into detonation. And when that push comes, well, you’re nearly inconsolable. 

You barely make it through the rest of your day without killing someone. As soon as your shift ends, you head back home, attempting to take the side door to avoid the casino’s loud, unbearable ambiance. 

The door is locked. God fucking dammit. 

You let out a frustrated shout, banging your fist against the golden door frame before stepping away. You bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself from the growing pain in your hand, and the fact that you now have to make your way through the suffocating atmosphere just to get to your room. 

Holding your breath, you quickly throw open the double doors, effectively silencing the whole room with the sheer amount of force you use as each door slams against the walls with a bit of recoil. 

Ignoring the stares and slight whispers of the folks who recognize who you are, you make your way through the maze of tables and machines, passing by the Blackjack table where your husband sat at the head, his deck of cards slipping from his hands and falling into a heap on the table. 

He stares at you in surprise, eyes desperate to reach yours, feeling crestfallen when you never meet his gaze. 

Watching you effectively slip past the crowd and head into the private halls, Dice makes a mental note to grab a bottle of wine for you on the way back to his chambers. He notices the clusters of people continuing to stare at the door and whispering in suspicion, and quickly becomes angry over their inquiries. 

Gathering up his deck of cards with one swoop of the hand, he brings his other fist down on the table to grab everyone’s attention, glaring menacingly at the wide eyes of his patrons. 

“Well, get back to it, will ya?! Don’t you fellas know it’s rude to stare at someone and start talkin’ smack when they’re no longer present? Forget what you saw and move on!” 

The powerful bellow of his voice combined with his threatening gaze was enough to jumpstart the casino into action once again, the games and chatter continuing like nothing ever even happened. 

With an aggravated huff, he turns back to his own table and silently deals the deck to his slightly shaky players, ignoring their hesitant movements and fearful eyes on him. As long as they aren’t focused on you anymore, he doesn’t give a damn.

When the day finally ends, Dice makes a beeline towards his room, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. For once, he’s silent as he opens the door and steps inside, quietly stepping over to your curled up form on the bed. 

A gentle hand rubs over your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise before you slowly relax into your husband’s touch, your eyes slipping shut as you do your best to collect yourself. 

Dice notices you trying to calm down and shakes his head, setting the wine and glasses down on your nightstand and taking your hands. 

“It’s alright to be angry and upset, sweetness. Don’t try and bottle it up for my sake. If you need to yell or cry, go ahead. I’ll spare your dignity.”

That’s all you need to hear. Dice silently nods along in understanding as you tear into the horrible day you had, letting you yell out your frustrations, his hand gently running along your inner thigh in an attempt to comfort you. 

If you start to shed any tears in the middle of your rant, your lover offers you his handkerchief, continuing to listen to you as he pours you a glass of liquid happiness. 

The rest of the night is filled with tears, alcohol, and eventual silence as you both finish off the bottle, settling down for bed. You’re more than eager to sleep off the struggles, in hopes that tomorrow will bring you fortune. 

You both are there for each other when you need it, and that’s something you’ll always cherish about your husband. How someone as intimidating and evil as him could be so sweet and caring with you, you’ll never understand. But you are grateful for it. 

Dice is just as grateful for you, for dealing with his messes. For putting up with his work life, for loyally waiting for him every night, no matter how late it gets. For looking past his ‘rough and tough’ persona, and learning to love his broken, messy interior. 

Your love for each other is what gets you both through even the hardest of days. 

That includes, when both of you aren’t exactly having the best time. It’s rare for you to have an off day at the same time, but in the unfortunate case that something like this happens, well… you lean on each other more than ever. 

Both metaphorically and physically. 

As usual, you return home first, making your way through the casino’s main floor and biting your lip to keep from shouting at the drunkards who bump into you, whoop and holler in your ear, or simply stare at you in disgusting infatuation. 

Except this time, Dice is too distracted with his own hardships that he doesn’t even notice you come in. This time, it’s his eyes that fail to meet yours as you pass by, creating a slight twinge in your heartstrings. 

It seems today is just shitty all around, you suppose.

Stopping by Dice’s office, you grab a couple books from one of his many bookshelves, and head back to your quarters. Maybe some light reading will help you get your mind out of reality for a while. 

Dice’s escape from reality… isn’t quite as healthy.

With a cigar in his mouth and a glass of scotch in his hand, he finally makes his way to the room with heavy footsteps, just wanting to see you. To hold you. To lament to you. 

He knows in his heart that all you want is the same. It’s what you both need right now. You just need to be near each other. To hold each other. To kiss each other. To forget the stress of the day, and just focus on what’s most important. 

Your love for one another. 

The quiet creak of the door opening followed by the light of the hall flooding the room catches your attention, your head lifting from your book and finally meeting Dice’s eye as he steps inside, taking a drink from his whiskey glass and setting it on his bedside table. 

You’re up in a moment, the book forgotten about as you make your way over to him, helping him remove his jacket, carefully draping it over a hook and hanging it neatly. When Dice kicks off his shoes, you move them underneath his hanging tailcoat for him. 

The only sounds in the room are the rustling of fabrics being taken off, the soft pads of footsteps trailing to the bathroom, the running water from the sink’s faucet, and the aching ringing in your ears. 

Dice washes the makeup from his face and steps back into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with you, clad only in his boxers. His movements are tender and careful as he cups your face with his hands, his fingers slowly covering your ears, helping to finally rid you of the god-awful sounds plaguing your brain and causing a headache. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you rest your pounding forehead against his bare chest, taking in that addicting scent of smoke and musk. 

For the first time in a while, Dice chuckles slightly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. While you rest against him, he helps you rid yourself of your top and bottoms, leaving you in your undergarments. Shivering slightly, you shift closer to him for warmth, and Dice responds by pulling you into his lap all together. 

He peppers you with all the kisses you’d ever need, holding your face in his hands as he makes his way over your cheeks, forehead, nose, and finally, your lips. 

Oh, hell, his lips are magical. They’re so soft against your own, and the taste of alcohol and cigar smoke is always welcomed. It’s incredible. Your favorite way to take your whiskey, if you were honest with yourself. 

Your arms find your way around his neck area, and his around your waist. Both of you are itching just to get a taste of each other, your tongues meeting and mingling with one another. You both are exhausted and frustrated with your lives, but it’s the kisses you share that make the day worth going through. 

Dice scoots back into bed with you in his lap, laying down on his back, letting you sprawl on top of him. Skin against skin. Lips against lips. Hands interlocked. Neither of you want to be anywhere else. 

After a while, you both are content with just relaxing in each other’s embrace, unwilling to move. You’re warm. Comfortable. Almost happy. Almost. 

It’s not enough to completely fix the horribleness of your days, but it’s damn near close. It’s enough to convince you both that the hard days are worth it. It’s enough to bring small, peaceful smiles on your faces, providing comfort for each other when it’s so desperately needed. 

“Darlin’?”

Your husband finally speaks, bringing you out of your thoughts. You turn your head to look up at him, your eyes locking in with his bright green ones. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, hesitantly, already knowing the answer. You understand what he’s really asking– he wants to know if you’re willing to talk about it, or if you just need time in silence. 

You sigh softly to yourself, contemplating your reply before you flash him a soft smile, gently rubbing your hand over his chest. 

“I’m okay, my love. It was just a rough day today.” 

Dice understands your reply and nods, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead as he shifts on his side, letting you shift with him so you both are in a spooning position, with your partner hugging you from behind. 

“Alright.”

Silence falls over the both of you, and you are left with your thoughts, occasionally shifting closer together for comfort when you remind yourselves of what you’ve gone through that day. If Dice’s leg finds its way over yours, you don’t mind at all. If you let out the occasional sniffle as your emotions threaten to take over, Dice pretends he doesn’t hear. 

If your shoulders begin to heave slightly as you silently cry to yourself, Dice’s soothing hand makes its way towards your back, rubbing reassuringly. If Dice squeezes you closer in an effort to quell his own shakiness, you rest your back against him, nestling your head under the bottom edge of his cubed head. 

After a while, you turn around to face him, wanting to bury yourself into his arms. The smile that had temporarily graced your lips is gone, replaced with a dispirited frown. 

Dice looks down at you in concern, gently caressing your cheek, his thumb wiping away the occasional tear that fell down your cheek. 

“You’re not alright, are you, sugar?”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as you shut your eyes, a couple extra tears lining your eyes making their way down your cheeks. Dice takes care of those as well, his fingers gently massaging your face in comfort.

“No, I’m not.”

Not that you needed to tell him that. He knows. He always knows. And he understands, you know that. Because he’s not alright, either. Neither of you are. 

You’re both in pain. Exhausted. Frustrated. Angry. You aren’t even in the mood to be intimate tonight, neither of you have the energy. 

Even so, you find yourself pressing closer against him, relishing in the feeling of your skin contacting his. Falling intoxicated to the addicting scent of smoke and citrus that at this point may be Dice’s natural musk. 

Sometimes, just cuddling with each other without any clothes on is just what you need. It’s physical. Intimate enough. Comforting. Relaxing, even. It’s nice, when you want the blissful feeling that sex leaves you, but when neither of you have the strength to move. 

The slow, slightly shaky rise and fall of Dice’s chest keeps you grounded in reality, and simultaneously, your erratic heartbeat fluttering against his own keeps your lover’s own emotions in check. It’s a silent reminder that you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re not going anywhere. 

If there’s one thing that you both can count on, it’s that you’re secure. Dice would never let anything happen to you, and you would always be there to pick up the shards and piece his life back together. 

You both lock eyes with each other, silently proclaiming your love for one another, and kiss once more. Your breathing slows as you relax once more, just focusing on the comforting tastes, scents, and soft groans coming from the King. 

Dice pulls you closer to him, holding you tightly as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. The feeling is soothing to him; your hair is so soft. He doesn’t want to be anywhere else. Luckily for him, neither do you. 

Eventually, you both slip off to sleep, finding contentment from being wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle snores with one another as you finally get some rest. 

At 6:00 am sharp, Dice’s alarm goes off, the man groaning in irritation as his hand lazily swats at the damned thing before yanking out the plug. With a yawn, you sit up and stretch, sighing to yourself as you mentally prepare yourself for what you hope to be a better day at work. 

Before you can get far, however, Dice’s hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back into his warm, relaxing embrace. 

“Dice, we need to-”

“Five more minutes, doll. Please.” 

You sigh, shaking your head as you squirm slightly, not wanting to be late for your job.

“Dice, I can’t. We can’t. Your boss would use your head as game dice for the craps table if he knew you had–” 

“To hell with the boss.” Dice grumbles crankily, insistently pulling you closer. “My boss, and your own, can wait five minutes.” 

Well, you suppose he does have a point. Besides, he’s so comfortable, it’d be a waste to get up now, when you both still have a little time. So, you reluctantly give in, settling back down and shutting your eyes again. Surely, the day can wait a little longer. 

And when you both wake up a half hour later, scrambling to get up and make yourselves presentable, as much as you want to say otherwise you can’t help but think to yourself…

It’s worth it. 

King Dice x Reader “Bad Day” Headcanons (SHOW)

Many believe that becoming a beloved star in showbiz has to be a dream come true. 

Let’s face it, the showmen get everything they could ever ask for. Doting fans who would bend over backwards just for a damn signature, the ability to pick up anyone they want for a partner, all the money in the world, and an influencing presence on some of the highest officials in town. 

Being a star should be the best thing that could ever happen to a man. And if you were to ask King Dice how he views his job, he’d certainly tell you how splendid he has it. 

After all, running a game show where he can sing, dance, and talk all he wants, with an enormous crowd screaming his name before he even enters the stage? Why, it’s magical. 

The King loves his job, dearly. He doesn’t see himself doing anything else. He’s even found himself enjoying the thought of what happens to the foolish fellows who stumble upon his spotlight, happily playing his game, and falsely believing they’ve won. Sure, they may have won on paper, but here's the catch: King Dice never loses. 

There’s something so satisfying about the idea of those pests who are so desperate to touch him getting what’s coming to them. It’s a nice little bonus to the job, knowing that those he severely disliked would be taken care of. 

However… sometimes, King Dice gets the occasional contestant who isn’t so horrible. A contestant who’s surprisingly respectful of his boundaries, plays the game perfectly, and doesn’t give him any trouble whatsoever. 

Dice would be lying if he didn’t feel a little twinge of guilt as he watches the poor thing happily wave to the crowd before waltzing into the Mystery Prize Room, expecting a wonderful bout of riches and earthly pleasure. The showman closes the door quickly, signing off before leaving the stage in a slight rush, not wanting to think of it any longer. 

King Dice is selfish. Egotistical. Arrogant. Self-absorbed. The perfect fit for the Devil’s ‘Number One.’ He couldn’t care less about what happens to others; it’s none of his concern. 

But yet… that unfamiliar sting of regret still finds its way to Dice’s cold, dead heart. 

It’s uncomfortable. Awkward. Foreign. It shouldn’t be there. 

It sours his mood. He curses that contestant for being so unlucky. He curses his boss for putting him in this position, knowing fully well that for the sake of his job, he’s lost the trust of one of the good ones. But most of all, he curses himself, for not giving enough warning. 

Being a splendid actor, Dice is able to finish the rest of the night without a hitch, but there are other things on his mind. His head is no longer in the game. 

And the occasional guilty night is only one hardship Dice puts up with as a star working for the Devil. The list could go on for miles. 

Unpleasant conversations with his boss when one of his contestants came close to losing. The headaches from the constant flashing cameras fighting each other for a good angle of him. The carpal tunnel from signing every damn scrap of paper his fans shove in his face. The numbness in his cheeks from smiling all day long. 

That’s not even half of it. 

The truth is, being a star isn’t all it's cracked up to be. It’s hard work. Exhausting rehearsals. Pounds of makeup. Putting up a charismatic persona under layers of clothing, under hot lights. For hours. A lot of sacrifice is put into making sure everything is perfect, and some days, Dice wonders whether or not it’s worth it. 

You’ve spent many nights as Dice’s support system, guiding him out of his dressing room and into the waiting limo from the back way, to avoid the crowds. Letting him rest his legs in your lap as the limo takes you home, and massaging his aching feet as he sips tiredly at his champagne. Helping him up to your chambers, removing his jacket for him and hanging it up neatly by the door to be used for the next day. 

Unbuttoning his vest and undershirt, tossing the clothes into the hamper for his cards to wash, and gently massaging his bare chest. Allowing him to melt into your touch with a gentle moan as you slip his slacks off for him, setting them off to the side as you coax your lover to lay down. 

Wiping off his makeup for him as he complains to you about the exhaustion he feels, and the mess he had to deal with that day. Letting him rant out his frustrations at how disgusting his fans can be, and how he sometimes wishes he hired a few bodyguards to keep the pests away. Consoling him with a soft, soothing voice, validating his struggles and perhaps even appealing to his ego, letting him know just how patient and strong he is for dealing with such nastiness all day. 

Dice is grateful for your help, every time. And he’s sure to let you know that as you work your magic. 

“You’re the only one who could ever bring me true joy, doll. I adore you.” 

You smile and shake your head, kissing his cheek as you peel off your own clothes, tossing them off to the side and laying down with him, allowing him to rest his pounding head over your chest and relishing in the contact. 

“And I you, my King. Please, get some sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.” 

He obeys, but only after you start humming to him. Your voice puts him right out, and he finally finds the relaxation he’s been looking for. 

Your job complete, you allow yourself to snuggle close with him, watching over him and making sure he’s safe and secure. Eventually, your eyes slip shut, and you both rest together, allowing the past to wither away in preparation for the next day. 

You understand where your husband is coming from, sometimes. Every job has its faults and struggles, including the job of singing and putting on a show for others’ enjoyment. Including your own job, which leaves you with many, many days where you wonder if it’s even worth the effort. 

After all, Dice makes more than enough money to keep you both well off for the rest of your lives. You don’t necessarily need to keep your job, but it’s something to do during the day while your lover is at the studio. Something to keep you busy. Something you’ve earned for yourself. An accomplishment. It’s hard to give up. 

Even though sometimes, you heavily consider quitting in favor of keeping your husband company. It’d be nice to let go of all the hardships of your job for good, and bask in Dice’s presence all day instead. 

The worst of it all is when you work overtime, and you miss Dice’s show entirely. You sometimes get so occupied you can’t even tune in on the radio. It makes you unbelievably aggravated. Not only that, but you can’t even make it to go home with him at times, having to catch a cab back to your quarters. 

Even so, Dice waits for you. Greets you as soon as you trudge through the door, taking care of your bags, your coat, and your shoes. Drawing a bath for you, and helping you undress. Undressing himself, and joining you in the tub. He washes the grime off of your body for you, singing a soft, comforting melody as you rest your head on his chest, your sore voice trying to match his rhythm. 

Soon enough, you both are softly singing together in harmony as Dice massages the tension out of your shoulders and back, effectively distracting you from your heavy responsibilities. 

Once you’re clean and Dice is satisfied with his work, he pulls up the plug and drains the tub, carrying you out and drying you off. He secures his fluffiest robe around you, tying the knot with a pretty little bow before drying himself, shucking on another robe for himself, and guiding you out into the bedroom. 

A slow jazzy song is chosen from his record books, and the gramophone plays the tune gently, prompting a slow dance between you and your husband. His hands guide you into the proper positions, and soon he’s swaying along to the song with you, singing to you and sneaking in a few kisses until a smile finally graces your lips. 

You admire his ability to bring you joy, even when you don’t feel like smiling at all. It’s so unbelievably sweet of him to treat you so kindly, especially when his job is just as difficult. 

Once you’re worn out and you’ve forgotten all about the struggles you faced in the day, Dice will remove your robe and his own, carrying you off to bed to turn in for the night. 

He holds you. Tightly. His lips grace your face and neck, planting several kisses over your skin along with the occasional love bite. He understands you may be too tired to be intimate, but he figures he can at least make a mark or two to let others know you’re taken. 

His teeth and mouth feel exquisite against you, and the gentle nipping and biting make you chuckle occasionally. He tickles, especially when his mustache grazes over your skin just slightly. 

Dice longs for your laughter. It’s all he ever wants to hear from you. He hates seeing you upset, and if he can help it, he’ll chase all of the horrible feelings away, leaving you a relaxed, giggling mess in his arms.  

“Dice…” You manage to mutter between your laughter. 

“What is it, angel-eyes?” 

“Thank you for this. I appreciate it. You never fail to take the pain away when I need you the most. I love you, so so much.” 

Dice simply smiles at your words, bringing the duvet over you and covering you up so only your head is sticking out. With a kiss to your lips and a caress of your cheek, he murmurs into your mouth some of the sweetest things you’ve ever heard him say. 

“Anything to see your smile again, my dear. It breaks my heart to see you so upset. Please, lean on me when you feel like you’ve lost your smile. I’ll always be willing to help you find it.” 

He seals the promise with another sensual kiss to your lips, bringing you into his chest as your tongues explore each other’s mouths. You’ll never understand how he sweeps you off your feet with something as simple as a kiss, but you won’t complain. You love it. 

He’s yours. And you’re his. No one else will ever have the privilege of his gentleness, or your loyalty. No one else deserves those privileges. They can rot in hell, for all you care. 

You eventually find yourself nodding off in his arms. With a fond chuckle, Dice pulls his mouth away from you and lets your head drop onto his shoulder. Your ear is filled with your husband’s sensual whispers of praise, successfully lulling you to sleep. 

Wanting to keep you relaxed even in the early morning hours, Dice wakes up before his alarm and shuts it off before it even has the chance to ring. Figuring he’s allowed to be a little late just this once, he decides to stay with you an extra hour, humming quietly in your ear and massaging your shoulders. 

When you finally wake to get ready for work, you find a small box of chocolates and a cup of your favorite morning drink along with a single purple rose resting on your nightstand. 

That cheesy bastard, you love him to pieces. 

Taking a sip of your drink and indulging yourself in a few of the chocolates, you decide that you can finally move forward, and strive to have a better day. With Dice’s sweet gesture, you’re already off to a pretty good start. 

Through your hard days and his own, you and Dice are always there to pick each other back up when you need it. You’re each other’s rocks. Best friends. Spouses. You wouldn’t want to share this type of bond with anyone else. When one of you is down and broken, the other will always be there to pick up the pieces.

However, there is the rare occasion when both of you are down. When both of you are tired, struggling, and ready to quit. Those days hit especially hard. 

You can already tell it’s one of those days when you trudge home late after work, and find that Dice isn’t even home. He must’ve gotten caught with the crowd, or was dragged off to some damn party that he really didn’t want to go to. Dice hated any parties that involved other celebrities. Hoity-toity bastards. They make him sick to his stomach. 

Even though a huge part of you wants nothing more than to curl up and sleep, you know that you won’t be successful until your husband comes home. You can’t sleep as well when you’re alone, especially when you’re emotionally struggling. You need him. 

And when Dice finally steps into your quarters, barely able to stand on his own as he lets his tailcoat fall to the ground, you can tell that he needs you just as much. 

Exhausted, you make your way over to him and just wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. After a few moments of processing, you feel Dice’s arms tightly wrap around you as well, pulling you against him as his shoulders sag slightly. Jeez, he’s so weak and tired, it makes your heart break for him. 

“Shitty day?” You ask, your voice muffled from your face being snugly buried into his chest. 

You hear a dejected sigh from above you as Dice rests his head on top of yours, nodding slowly. 

“Shitty day. You?”

“Mhm.” You mutter back, hugging yourself closer to him for safety and relief. 

Dice coos sadly in response, kicking off his shoes and sliding them in a heap by the door. You yelp a little in surprise as he lifts you up, carrying you over to bed and sitting down on the edge with you. 

You watch as he runs a defeated hand over his face, shaking his head in resignation. He looks worn and ragged, like he had been run through a road roller. Dice certainly feels that way, at least. 

He looks down at you with an unreadable expression, cupping your face and examining your eyes. Your beautiful, glossy eyes that are incredibly easy to get lost in. They’re truly a wonder, in Dice’s head. You yourself, are a wonder. A joy. A prize. 

He wishes you didn’t feel so low today. 

“I’m so sorry, my sweet. But I don’t believe I have the energy to help you find your smile tonight.” 

That sentence is enough to shatter your heart, but not in the way you’d think. You’re not upset that he can’t provide the comfort he thinks you need. You’re not upset that he can’t make love to you, or run you a bath, or dance with you until your feet hurt. 

You’re upset that he’s been run down to his last thread tonight. You’re upset that he feels guilty for being unable to help you in the way he would like. You’re upset that he’s had such a horrible day, when he should’ve been enjoying himself. 

In response to his apology, you lean forward and press your lips to his, gently nipping at his bottom lip and coaxing a small groan from his throat. 

Helping him undress completely, you mumble in his mouth in a voice that’s barely audible:

“Dice, don’t think that you need to pamper me to help me relax. Don’t think that you need to sweep me off my feet and carry me everywhere to make you happy. Don’t think that you need to do all of these sweet little gestures to bring me comfort.” 

You run your hands up and down his sides, memorizing the way his smooth ivory skin feels against your fingers. 

“All I need tonight is you. And you’re here now. That’s all I could ever want. I just want you.” 

Dice is at a loss for words, opening his mouth to say something, but nothing coming out. After a minute, he sighs hopelessly, shaking his head and just holding you in his arms, searching for solace in your loving warmth. 

You both sit together, naked and weary, just embracing each other. Loving each other. Not daring to move, in fear of stumbling or breaking the quiet atmosphere. It’s… surprisingly wholesome. 

Who knew that all you both would ever need when you’re down is a hug? That was all it took to make you at least a little content with where your life is? You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised, after all any type of contact with Dice is enough to bring you peace. 

You contemplate in his arms for a moment, remembering that new blues song that was playing on the radio over your workplace a few days ago. How did it go again?

Oh, yes. You remember.

“I’ll never smile again…” you start, your voice hesitant, wondering if you had heard the lyrics right. “Until I…”

Recognizing what you were trying to sing, Dice finds the corners of his lips turning up in a soft smile. He kisses your forehead, hugging you close and slowly swaying back and forth with you from where you were both seated on the bed. 

“Until I smile at you…” he finishes your open sentence, gently rubbing your back as his mind recalls the melody himself. 

“I’ll never laugh again… what good would it do?” 

You close your eyes, peacefully swaying along with him as you both slowly make your way through the song, taking in the quiet, soothing notes of the melody. 

“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…” 

As you harmonize with your husband, you eventually feel a small, blissful smile finally reach your face. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, smiling tiredly with one another as you finally conclude with the last line of that song you both had just gotten familiar with.

“Until I smile at you.”  

Silence greets your ears once again, but this time, there’s a feeling of satisfaction in the air, rather than misery. And what’s even better is, you both are smiling with one another. 

You chuckle quietly, your hand tracing up and down Dice’s bicep as you gently kiss and bite at his collar bone. 

“You know, you had apologized earlier for not having any energy to help me find my smile. But I don’t think you realize that all I need to smile again is you, Dice.” 

Dice stares down at you in slight awe, slowly processing your words and taking them to heart. You feel yourself get slightly squeezed against him as he lets out a quiet, teary chuckle that brings out a couple tears of your own that you didn’t realize you were holding back. 

“I… I guess I never thought of that, babydoll.” 

He wipes away your tears as he blinks back his own, lowering his head down and pressing tiny kisses to the top of your head, little bursts of love and warmth exploding from your chest. 

You ache for him. He puts so much unnecessary pressure on himself, sometimes it’s hard to watch. You wish he’d give himself a break. He deserves one more than ever. 

“Tomorrow’s your day off, right? It’s Saturday, so I have off as well. Maybe we could dedicate it as a recovery day.” You offer quietly, rubbing in between his shoulder blades to help him calm himself. 

With a gentle sniffle and a moment of thought, Dice smiles sadly once again, nodding thoughtfully and taking your hand. 

“I’d love that more than anything, sweet one. We’ll spend the whole day together, just the two of us.” 

Just the two of you. No one else. Not a single coworker to deal with, or a boss screaming in your ear. Not one nasty admirer clinging to Dice’s leg, begging for one picture. Just you, Dice, and the peaceful quiet that home brings the both of you. Yes… that does sound perfect. 

“It’s a date then.” 

Content with your plans of a better tomorrow, Dice crawls back into bed and lays down with you, curling up under the covers with you snuggled perfectly in his arms. Once you both settle down, you sigh quietly together, your heads slowly resting against each other. 

Your hands connect with each other, the soft metal of your wedding rings clinking together as your fingers interlock. The clear diamonds sparkle and glisten as the pale moonlight peaks in from the window, hitting the stones at just the right angle. 

Dice grins warmly in amusement, his thumb rubbing over the rings in curiosity before he squeezes your hand reassuringly, bringing you closer. 

“Now that I think about it… I wouldn’t have my life any other way. I think I’ve done well for myself.” 

You laugh softly, your nose gently brushing against the pip on his face as you nod in response, agreeing with his statement.

“I wouldn’t either, sweetheart. You’re worth all the bad days in the world.” 

You relax in each other’s arms, peacefully satisfied with where you both are at. As you start to nod off, you hear Dice begin to quietly hum the tune you were both singing together earlier in an attempt to lull you off to sleep. It works, rather quickly. You’re passed out by the time he reaches the fifth or sixth line. 

For a moment, Dice watches you resting against him, enjoying the feeling of your chest slowly rising and falling against his own, your heart beats slowly coming together and finding a steady rhythm. 

He’s right; he wouldn’t have it any other way. This is perfect. All he needs. 

You’re all I need, the showman thinks to himself as his heavy eyelids finally close, and within mere seconds, he’s fast asleep, holding you securely in his embrace. 

You both sleep well into the next day, taking the time to recuperate and take care of the exhaustion you were dealing with. By the time you finally rise, you keep the promise you had made to each other, spending the day making each other laugh, sing, and dance together. 

Your love for each other really is worth all the bad days in the world.

[lavender-teardroplettes]

You should do Miguel and Si hcs (Weathering Feelings VN)

Since idk how many people have played it I’ll suggest doing so before reading this post since it’ll contain spoilers!

Hcs under the cut!:

This one’s a little more interesting than most to me due to the nature of the game and Miguel looking at the PLAYER and less so the stand-in he has for you in game, gets a little meta in the best ways in my opinion. UwU

Si would find the general idea for the game really cute assuming the download page is a little different from the irl itch page and doesn't include any spoilers. It would be neat if the moment he downloads it the page is gone since it's meant for him and no one else. (though this is an open mc headcanon even if it wasn't Si, I just think it's a neat idea). While he knows games aren't the same as getting real therapy, sometimes it's nice to harmlessly vent to a game just to get it out.

I think he'd play a "normal" route where he wouldn't notice anything off about the game just yet, not hitting the right flags right away and putting the game down for a day or two before booting it up again to try and get a new route with one of the other Doctors before going back to try and do a better route with Dr. Nubloso....only to get him again even after picking different answers. Weird...but he thinks "maybe I have to hit a flag first and clear his route first." He does better the second time around, but now things are getting...weird, and he notices that the game sprite seems to be looking directly at him.

Once he gets to the part where things get really weird and Dr. Nubloso starts talking about going into the game files before the route ends, Si gets really spooked and closes the game again. He's surprised and a little shocked at the change of pace in the story, but he also can't help but be a little curious about what would happen if he did delete the file. It's also around 2-3 am at that point of time, so he also thinks that maybe he fell asleep or misread something in his sleepy state. He sleeps on it, opens the game again, and plays through one more time to make sure, once again giving different answers, and once more getting the Cloudy Day therapist.

Once he confirms the weird ending and the request of deleting the file, Si looks around in the game files before finding it. His curiosity gets the better of him after a little debate with himself, and he does. Now....When he boots up the game again he is NOT expecting to see Miguel at all, and he certainly wasn't expecting to be talked to directly. He almost yelps and turns off the game again, but something pulls his attention to the new development and tells him to stop and hear him out. Maybe he's overacting and this is just really good...specific writing? So he plays on, almost exhausting each available line of dialogue Miguel has for him, even replaying them a few times before Miguel acknowledges what he's doing and gives him the whole 'oh, you're testing me and my loyalty' speech. And...he has to admit, he does feel a little bad for the character by that time....that is until he hits the nsfw route and gets WAY MORE flustered than he should've been. And yes....he played both routes. ovo

By the end of it, he gets the ending where Miguel resolves to break out of the game for him, and he's left confused when all that loads after is a glitched screen. He does some more digging in the files and finds some "easter eggs" from Miguel, getting flustered at two of the special pictures hidden in the files. Curiouser, Si- seemingly out of a whim- decided to read the game's script...and his stomach drops when he notices little notes hidden in the game's files from Miguel- even down to the nsfw scenes. Before he can really react or fully process that this could be real, there's a knocking at his door..... Miguel came to find him just like he said he would. :)

That's all I really have for now since it's been a hot minute since I thought about how this would work given what we have with the current demo, but as you can see it's a really fun premise to play with!