#idk what colors i prefer yet

[kenmaiii]

after two years i finally draw the favorite

[cyberfunsupporter]

now that i’m replaying l¡s again i really don’t know how to feel about double exposure 😭 deciding to take chloe out of the plot / choose the bay ending / have her be wildly unimportant is definitely a bad choice already, and then considering how similar the plot is to the original game- only it lacks the originality the first game had when it came out + nostalgia for the time + CHLOE and everything else that made the first game amazing is so… hm. like it’s disappointing. also max has no bangs. why is she bald. i’m more bothered by that than i’d appreciate to admit like honestly where is her hair i’m concerned

[floralstorms]

Considering creating another side blog to post all of the dungeon meshi chilaios & tragedy au stuff because there is. A ridiculous amount of it to be posted

[delicatepoets]

its nail day besties!!!!!!!!!!

[domesticated-whores]

how are there not height sliders in the sims by now????

[uno-san]

Hiii! Could I rq reader who was Fords gf/so before he left and when he comes back he’s happy bc he realizes reader stayed in Gravity Falls the whole time and maybe even helped Stan fix the portal!

But then Bill comes and it’s totally up to u whether to make Bill like super jealous of reader or become just as obsessed with reader as he is with Ford idk.

Thank u!

Hello! Thanks so much for sending in a request. This is the first thing I've written in FOREVER, so I miiiiight have gotten carried away. Hope you and everybody else enjoys!

It always reminded you of the night sky. 

That, or what lied far beyond it. Beyond you, maybe. But never Stanford Pines. Who, in this very moment stood several yards from where you yourself were. The both of you had that strange, not-quite night sky wrapped around your forms. Yet instead of the endless expanse that space was known for, various journals, textbooks, and equations littered that space around you.

It would have been a marvelous sight if you didn’t know the purpose behind this all-too tailored world for Stanford. A trap meant to make him feel seen and applauded in ways you couldn’t quite match. A place for them to meet.

Beside Stanford was another figure. A three-sided one to be exact who had taken place near his shoulder, where he had been far longer than you could have ever known. But here he didn’t need to whisper his lies. Here, the two of them could simply converse and enjoy each other’s company. A wonderful plan to make Stanford feel known while also shutting you out from the light altogether.

Their laughter was uproarious.

“AHAHAHAHA! COME ON, SIXER, YOU DON’T MEAN THAT!”

A shrill voice cut through your observations. The devilish figure that it belonged to had placed his hands over his chest, or stomach, as if he were trying and failing to hold in his joy. His one eye was closed and curved to show a smile that his body didn’t have the means to actually do. His tie meanwhile spun in circles as if a toy had been wound up.

‘Sixer’ had his eyes lowered to the platform of which he stood. Tucked under his arm was one of his prized journals, where each of his six fingers drummed against its spine. He looked bashful under interrogation.

“What, not quite the term your ego would prefer, Bill?” Stanford finally shot back, his gaze raising to meet Bill’s while his eyebrow raised to pose a challenge.

“NOT AT ALL!” 

The demon began to circle around Stanford, who’s whole body began to turn with a determination not to break eye contact again. As if he were afraid of losing sight of Bill. Or his attention. Seeing it reminded you of a puppy enamored with its owner. Its everything, really. You had been familiar with it at some point yourself. What felt like ages ago now.

“JUST SURPRISED, IS ALL. I MEAN, AAAAAAAAALL I’VE DONE IS EXPAND YOUR MIND TO THE UNIVERSE OUTSIDE YOUR PUNY WORLD, SHOW YOU NEW COLORS, AND GIVE YOU THE PERFECT COMEBACKS EVERY TIME YOU GET INTO AN ARGUMENT,” He humbly bragged, “BUT IS THAT ALL REALLY WORTH IT TO BE CALLED YOUR-”

MUSE.

Muse.

Muse.

Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse.

That damn word was going to be imprinted on your brain with how often it was quite literally repeating. Out Loud. High-pitched and nearly shattering your ear drums, a physical manifestation of the word appeared in the space to hurl itself in your direction; A move you’ve seen one too many times. You nimbly dodged off to the side without losing your footing like you had the first time this occurred. With both your feet planted firmly on the ground you whipped your head around to catch the end of the show.

The scene had frozen. Stanford’s expression was stuck in a form of denial, his cheeks tinted a rosy color that you used to make them turn. His brow was furrowed as if he were concerned. Or desperate to assure Bill that he truly was worth it all. Bill meanwhile had his arms folded behind his back while his half-lidded eye bore down on its prey like a benevolent mentor.

Bill’s pupil slowly slid in your direction.

“A BENEVOLENT MUSE, YOU MEAN.”

Bill Cipher became animated again. This time he no longer addressed the version of Stanford standing before him. His smug attention was all focused on you now. His small frame managed to tower over you in mere presence alone, even at the distance you two stood at.

Arms folded behind his back, there was a silence that followed while Bill inspected you. Perhaps waiting for you to give a response before he settled on his own. He feigned surprise.

“DIDN’T EXPECT TO CATCH YOU HERE. SIXER AND I WERE JUST HAVING A MOMENT ALONE,” Bill emphasized, his arm outstretching far past its supposed physical limit to wrap itself around Stanford’s still frame, “YOU KNOW, LIKE WE’VE BEEN HAVING FOR A WHILE. BEHIND YOUR BACK. IN FACT HE WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET TO COMPLIMENTING ME. SINCE I’M HIS MUSE. HIS SKY. STARS. WHATEVER.”

Muse.

Another manifestation hurled its way in your direction. You weren’t nearly as prepared and the edges of the word were sharp, slicing into your arm to draw what you assumed to be blood. With a wince you had to steady your balance before your glare shot back to the bastard in front of you.

He was a menace who you hadn’t realized you had been in competition with for years. And now, in a pissing contest with as the man you’re both fighting over like teenagers was lost in worlds unknown. The man you had loved and had been prepared to marry was gone now. Leaving you with his unfaithful ‘Muse’.

Oh, how you’ve come to hate the word.

It happened first when you had learned of the existence of an other-worldly being that had been secretly leading Stanford’s ambitions. Second was when you had discovered Ford’s hidden collection of idols and paintings. All squirreled away in a private chamber of his own viewing pleasure. That had been manageable.

But the fondness in his gaze when discussing their meetings made your heart ache. How he’d talk as if Bill Cipher was the sole purpose of everything now. His reason for continuing his research or facing adversity for his talents. Or the way he’d pause in the middle of a task to instead laugh at a memory of Bill from earlier, with his hands looking to busy themselves as a distraction.

All of that had hurt. But what made you hate the word most of all was its constant use to torture you. That the moment Bill had sensed your distaste for the term he had done nothing but plague your mind with it. Shoving it in your face as if he was a secret side woman in some stately affair.

Thus far this has been your nightly routine for several months now. Ever since Stanford Pines went missing from this world and so many others. With his brother, Stanley, being left behind with you to pick up the pieces to get back your lost loved one. And for some reason or other, Bill had set his sights on tormenting you.

Every night. Different visions of their bonded moments played in your mind while Bill sneered and poked fun at you for being fool enough to never notice the signs of your man slipping away. You never knew if what he showed you was true. You hoped not.

“THEY’RE REAL.”

You ignore him a moment to get back on two feet. Standing tall before him.

“Do you plan on taking me through your ‘Greatest Hits’ every night or are you going to fuck off already?” The venom in your tone caused interest to gleam in his eye. Most nights you try not to dignify his taunts with a response. But you were tired. Both mentally and physically thanks to late nights with Stanley to try to get the portal running again, or your lonely crying sessions blaming yourself for letting this go on for so long. You were exhausted.

“AW, DIDN’T THINK YOU’D GET SO CRANKY OVER A LITTLE FUN FORDSY AND I WERE HAVING! I’M SURE IT’S EASY TO GET INSECURE OVER THE IDEA OF YOUR MAN GETTING THE CHANCE TO VISIT A SUPERIOR BEING EVERY NIGHT BUT HE MENTIONED YOU ONCE OR TWICE. Y’KNOW, ABOUT HOW YOU’RE ‘SAFE’ AND ‘STABLE’.”

You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you. Perhaps even deter you from working on that portal any further, ensuring that Stanford would remain lost to mystery forevermore. “Say what you want Bill but I know him better than what your mind creeping could ever do. You miscalculated by seeing only the parts that benefited you and that’s going to end up biting you in the ass. Because it doesn’t matter what you and Stanford had before. Whatever was there is GONE, and I know that Stanford will be coming to end you too.”

It was difficult to keep your voice steady to feign the confidence that you hadn’t had in a long time. You stood bravely in the face of Bill, who’s form only grew in size while you charged up your own argument. He was nearly towering over you now while his gaze remained steady on you. His expression was unreadable.

“WELL WELL WELL, I-”

He’s yapped for far too long.

“Maybe that’s the point to all of this,” You gestured to the spectacle put on pause, “You realize you fucked up. Pushed too hard. Or maybe you’re not even playing this for me. You’re just trying to convince yourself that Ford is still in the palm of your hand when in reality, he despises you. Wants you dead. That despite all the compliments and praises you keep showing me he still picked me over you.”

You weren’t sure if any of this was going to strike a chord. Especially with being in the dark as long as you had, there was nothing for you to fight with. The best you could do was treat him like the vindictive affair partner he was pretending to be. And it worked. Or it was the hint of a suggestion you made in saying you were chosen over him.

Bill’s form skyrocketed in size from its already heightened form, with the triangle now bending over you now to force you to nearly tilt your head all the way back just to make eye contact. His pupil was entirely black to reflect your new surroundings as the static image of Ford and their place of contact was suddenly whisked away. What used to be a bright yellow turned to blood-red bricks that you swore you could feel heat coming off of.

“STANFORD PINES FEARS ME,” Bill’s voice boomed, “AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHERE I WANT HIM. THINKING OF ME AND CHASING AFTER MY COATTAILS UNTIL THAT NERD COMES TO REASON. AND UNTIL THEN YOU-”

His fingers snapped. The ground beneath you disappeared and you felt weightlessness hit as you began to descend into a dark pit. “YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!”

The vision of the gigantic demon began to fade away. His voice still boomed and echoed despite the void that they were shouted into. As your conscience begins to fade into its own form of nothing you close your eyes to instead repeat his words to yourself.

Never see him again.

__

The Mystery Shack above you groaned with disapproval. Its wood and structure creaked as it finally settled back on the ground, thankfully still supported by its own weight once gravity returned to normal. You were face first on the ground with your head still spinning from that hasty landing you made to resist any damage. With just one peek of an eye you could see that your vision was still hazy. Only a sickeningly familiar blue light kept the basement of the Shack from being in total darkness.

Darkened figures up ahead began to move. When you tried to join them you were quick to discover that your leg caught in debris. A quick examination told you that it wasn’t anything dangerous like active machinery, and the small tugs you gave to test your aching body showed that nothing was quite broken. Hurt, yes, but all intact.

Just like the house you could feel your bones settling back into place while creaking with resentment. You could only imagine how Stanley must have been feeling. Propping yourself up with one arm you then used your freehand to begin pulling away at the rubble on top of you, trying to carefully dismantle it piece by piece so that it wouldn’t collapse on top of you.

Having been so focused on your escape you had only caught the tail-end of what Stanley was telling dipper.

“The author of the Journals…”

Your head whipped around so fast it could have snapped, “My brother.”

As if on cue a figure cladded in a black cloak removed his mask with a six fingered hand, his silver hair whipping around him as he slowly revealed a face you thought you could have anticipated after having aged years with Stanley. The fact that they were twins did little to stop you from tearing up at the handsome visage that was your Stanford Pines.

The wrinkles in his face had deepened from the last you saw him. He was still chiseled with a hint of facial hair he might have shaved off recently while his posture and expression gave off a confidence you weren’t familiar with.

Stanley began to approach him with open arms, prepared to greet the brother he’s missed for years for longer than yours. Stanford didn’t match his sentiments. Instead his fist drew back to strike Stan who had flinched out of the way- But not before Stanford’s fist froze. Left hanging in the air as something else caught his attention. Past Stanley and Dipper. Through various piles of cement and broken wood.

You.

Neither of you moved. His eyes flickered back and forth in a manner that suggested he was examining you all the same. Taking in every detail of your graying form, of each new wrinkle that has marked your age like a tree. The intensity of his gaze made your heart stall for more reasons you could count.

Was that disappointment in his gaze? Or worse, indifference? The world had already been cruel in tearing you apart in the first place. How easy would it be to have Stanford simply forget you? To have moved on to grander and exciting things since his time away. After all, Bill Cipher had enticed him once before. YOU nearly lost him once before. Who’s to say you haven’t wasted your years chasing after a man who could no longer remember your face?

Tears began to gather. They soothed the sting of debris in the air to instead replace it with a dull ache in your heart. At this point you could have been crying over any number of things. You tried calling out his name but the words caught in your throat.

He shouted yours instead. Pushing passed his stunned brother and great nephew to run in your direction. Just as Stanford was a few feet away he suddenly dropped to his knees to slide the remaining distance. It was a physical endeavor you envied in this moment.

Already Stanford’s arms wrapped around your form, drawing you in close to his chest while he buried his face into your hair. You didn’t dare utter a sound of discomfort. Swallowing your tears you chose to focus on his warmth rather than the pain your body was in. How much studier his arms felt from the last time you were held in them, however long ago that was.

“M…My dear…” Stanford gasped, as if the term of endearment hadn’t been uttered in history before. His six fingers nearly dug into your body with his tight grasp. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “This…This is real. Bill isn’t lying again. You’re here. You.”

From the corner of your vision you could see both Soos and Mabel staring in wonder. Their mouths were left hanging open while they slowly turned to each other to clasp hands together. Mabel began to mouth ‘they have a histooooory!!’

You opted to turn your face into Stanford’s chest to ignore all that as long as you could.

“All these years I’ve waited here for you, Stanford. Every year was spent fixing the portal, I-” Your eyes wandered to his twin, “-We’ve been fixing the portal. Stan and I together decided we weren’t going to stop until you were home safe.”

Stanford drew in a breath. The tension that coiled his posture was a familiar sign of his frustrations being withheld, and with the copious warnings in his Journals to not open the portal again you had a fairly safe guess as to what that tension was. Stanford managed to swallow it down as his hand cupped your cheek and directed your eyes to his.

The years have really gone by. For the both of you, you realized as you gazed into weary and worldly eyes. Did he see the same thing in you? Or has it occurred to him just how truly long it's been since the two of you were close like this. Since way before he was lost in the first place. To where Bill’s schemes began to put the first cracks in the foundations of your relationship.

From the distance the portal still glowed a blue hue, flickering every few moments as the machine began to lose its life at long last for what you pray is the last time. Both of you were left illuminated with blue. The beautiful sight of Stanford had been imprinted on your mind, nearly washing away the years of trauma the color had come to be associated with.

You could have sworn Stanford’s eyes were brimming with tears as well before they closed, the distance between you two gone as he leaned down to capture your quivering lips in a kiss. With it came the relief of a thirty-year grief. Not of a healed relationship but of a path to recovery and trust. You nearly grinned into the kiss. Stanford Pines chose you.

[bettysupremacy]

hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

[hxney-lemcn]

See You Again — Your Fav Twst Guy x gn! reader

summery: you don't realize just how much he loves you

tw: pining (idk)

a/n: uhhhh here you go. Another insert your fav character but twst version.

wc: 0.7k

Master List

You live in my dream state Relocate my fantasy I stay in reality You live in my dream state Anytime I count sheep That’s the only time we make up, make up You exist behind my eyelids, eyelids Now I don’t wanna wake up

As he falls asleep, his mind always seems to slip to you. Going over all the times he saw you and how romantic even the smallest of gestures were to him. Even if you only smiled at him the same as you did with your other friends, when he closed his eyes, he imagined a world where your smile towards him is warmer, softer, more affectionate. Imagine a world where you’d lean in close to him as you laughed at his joke, where you’d rest your head on his shoulder as you stared up at him lovingly. A world where you’d just lean over and give him a kiss-

20/20, 20/20 vision Cupid hit me, Cupid hit me with precision, I Wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind I said, I said I’m sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing You’re the one that’s always running through my daydreams, I I can only see your face when I close my eyes So…

He watched as you sat with your friends. A warm smile on your face as you watched them squabble. Did you even know what you were doing to him? How he managed to fall so hard for you without you even trying. It was tiring. It felt like all he could do was think about you, your preferences, your likes and dislikes. Perhaps he could try and take you out today? Or were you too busy? It seems like no matter how hard he tries, he’ll always be one step behind you. The only place he can actually reach you is when his eyes slip closed…

Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I’m ‘bout to go to war And I don’t know if I’ma see you again Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I’m ‘bout to go to war And I don’t know if I’ma see you again

He wished his dreams were real. To know the taste of your lips, the gentleness of your hold, the warmth of your love. He never wanted to wake up, his dreams leaving him longing once he awoke. Then there was the dread, the fact that you weren’t from here, that you could go back to your world and he’d never see you again. It was a vicious cycle. Daydreaming of you, remembering it wasn’t real, then the dread of never seeing you again leading him to daydream about you once more. 

I said okay, okay, okay, okey-dokey, my infatuation Is translating into another form of what you call it? Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, I ain’t met you, I’ve been looking Stop the waiting ‘fore I stop the chasing, like an alcoholic “You don’t understand me” — What the fuck do you mean? It’s them rose tinted cheeks, yeah, it's them dirt colored eyes Sugar honey iced tea, bumblebee on the scene Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a peace of your pie

His infatuation had turned into love for you, and it started to feel suffocating, and he wasn’t sure if he should even act on his feelings. It would only make things more confusing for you. Yet he couldn’t help his longing for you, how his love seeped into every action aimed towards you. He hated when you waved him off, not understanding how deep these feelings ran through him. How he found every aspect of you endearing, You were the sweetest person he’s ever met, and you attracted him effortlessly. He’d give everything and anything for a chance to be with you. Please, just give him one chance to show you just how much he loves you.

Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la la, la la) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la, la la) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la la, la la La la, la la la la) One more time?

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi hello! Idk if your request is currently open or not, but I'd like to request a fic where the Reader is a member of the Smiling Critters, they're still alive due to Catnap's fondness of them. They're on his side but hate it, only doing it in exchange that Dogday wouldn't get hurt.

With Catnap's permission, they would visit Dogday and give him whatever food they could find ( let's say Catnap still has some fondness for Dogday inside of him ) but with limitations.

You can change the idea into how you prefer! Thank you in advance :D

Ps. Mind adding a scene where Dogday calls the Reader " Angel " and reminisces about Catnap's fondness for both of them? I hope it makes sense, I just melt seeing Dogday calling us Angel :'D

Here We Stay

Note || KSJSJSJD I loved writing this, everything makes sense :D My apologies I took so long to write this! Kinda short too but UUHHHHH-

WC || 1,176

Sypnosis || being a member of the Smiling Critters meant you would’ve died one way or another, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is hope for the best.

One of the worst possible things could be corporate greed, even just having good intentions yet the worst execution is a plausible answer. Just how could you be forced into this situation? Trying to make things worth Catnap’s while is harsh, the only reason you knew you were alive right now was merely because he was particularly fond of you and DogDay alike. He wasn’t the same after the fact the Prototype’s reign began, you weren’t aware of much yourself, so all of this was just plain scary to you.

All your friends just disappeared and died, some of which you didn’t know was happening. You only got all that information because of DogDay.

You hated the circumstance he was put in, it seemed so painful for one’s legs to be severed and just hung up there the way he is now.

Repeatedly however, DogDay has assured you he didn’t mind being like this so long as you were in good health. He couldn’t bear knowing he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing for one of the only friends he has left. So many of his friends were gone already, DogDay would elect to die for you if it meant you would live.

Truth be told, you had only exchanged the peace you had before so that DogDay would not get hurt anymore then he already has. Catnap had full will and the power to completely end your life otherwise, you just were scared. 

Sometimes when you could, you would take a look at the broken clock that had somehow still worked like normal–and think about what time it would be in the day–Is it nighttime? How about daytime. Oh how you wished you weren’t subject to things the way they are now, all because of the wretched rules of humans and even the abject rulings of the Prototype himself.

Why would Catnap even view that silly toy as a god anyway? Perhaps that was for him to know, and for you to find out. Once, your life isn’t in any danger any longer. Just maybe it will be possibly any hour now, one can only hope. 

Trying to scrounge the Factory for any possible food was getting harder and harder every hour, one could argue it may be the stupid little mice stealing those last precious crumbs away. You would argue it would be the little Wuggies, those small toys were objectively brisk–and limpid too (colors so closely related within the walls of the factory, you forget sometimes they are even there).

You try hard to not forget where you are, in order to get back to DogDay with food for him. That was the only reason you were even anywhere else and away from your sunny friend, you would still be close to him any chance you get on account of Catnap’s permission. 

You wished otherwise.

“Ugh!” Groaning, you step over the possible weak spots that would have you falling through the floor. “There has to be food around here somewhere..” You mention, notioning to the fact you had now stepped into an office. There would be bound to be food here!

With an ounce of hope, you began scrounging the office for any possible heaps of food that you find. Ruffling through any drawers and papers, this office seemed to be a mess. You paid no mind to the messes anyway, there are bound to be messes since the last ten years in Playtime Co. 

“Success! Haha!” You triumphantly hold a bundle of donuts in your hand, “Take that Hour of Joy!” 

Winding down from your self inflated permeated success, you began making your way back to DogDay. You’d have to speak to Catnap to get to him first unfortunately, you always hated this part. Nonetheless, it was necessary.

You picked up the phone, already dialing Catnap to inform him of current conditions. You carefully had curated your words, you always did this when you spoke to him which ever way.

His deep voice rumbled soundly in your ears, “Food, for him?” 

“Yes.” You silently groan, kicking a benign rock stubble as you stand around while awaiting his confirmation. Why the hell was he so scary to you? Though, Catnap’s voice was oddly reassuring when he spoke without malcontent. For a moment, there was a long pause. 

You swore you could hear someone screaming and pleading to the giant purple cat; you felt bad for the unlucky victim that had crossed paths with Catnap.

“...” Then the phone hung up, you sighed a breath of relief that you could visit DogDay. Many things you would do for him just aside visiting, was having to loop in Catnap on whatever the contents of the material you would bring in hand with you. You knew the cat well enough his pause of silence meant yes. 

Well, you can go now at least. You don’t even want to recount the last time you had brought something to DogDay without telling Catnap. 

You stepped over the rubble that had led up to the heretic altar, you recognize he is one of the many dubbed a heretic, you truly wished he wasn’t in so much pain this way. Though immediately another thought crossed your mind.

This hallway needed some serious cleaning up to do.

A strained voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You didn’t have to bring anything my friend.” DogDay was being positive about you as per usual, you sighed as you stepped up to him then sat down as your legs were weary and tired. 

“DogDay we are friends, I’d do anything for you.” You motion, taking out a donut so you could feed it to him. Though in a rare few circumstances you were allowed to free DogDay’s hands so he could eat himself. Unfortunately it was not one of those circumstances. He took a willing bite, chewing it up as he savored it. 

For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to articulate anything, “Do you, remember how he was before… Angel?” DogDay was still mournfully thinking about Catnap’s old self, which he had every right to do. Knowing someone for as long as you would, then that someone changing so drastically–especially not in a good way–can be startling. 

You fed him another bite of the donut you held in your hand, “How could I forget? He was quite silent, sure enough. But he was always considering each and every one of us.” You nod with a tilted head. Oh, if you had the chance to turn back the clock and change things, you would’ve done it all in a heartbeat. 

Sincerely, you were scared. Scared for Catnap, scared for DogDay. All your possibly living friends you know are still alive. 

You grin slightly, wanting to alleviate the conversation and change the subject, “You might need a cleaning.” DogDay couldn’t help but bark–reminiscent of laughter–at your words. He shifted himself noticeably, most likely to bear the weight from one end to another. And remove the discomfort for a little bit before it would dare come back. 

“You may be right, my angel.”

"One can only hope."

[aeruia]

⌕. WIND BREAKER

↻. HOW CAN MY DAY BE BAD ?

suo seeing you all the time will just make his day ten times better since it’s you. because whose day won’t be better if they ever see you?

pairing : suo hayato x gn!reader

warning/s : lowercase intended, no use of y/n and no use of pronouns ( i only used " you " ), written poorly..

word count : 1.4k

note : inspired by the song bad by wave to earth 🗣️🗣️‼️ was listening to it then an idea popped up, idk if it fits but yeah, reblogs r appreciated :33

how can suo's day be bad when you're here to say the worst jokes known to mankind yet it makes him laugh and also checks on him, how can his day be bad?

he likes seeing that smile you always show whenever you bump into each other he finds it so adorable. whenever he won't get a glance of you he gets quite sad then you appear randomly in front of him and ask “ what's with the long face? ” with you trying to hide your smile and clearly he just gave you a smile. a bright smile that you can't help but just stare at him. he puts a hand in your shoulder before bidding you a goodbye that made you get out of your trance, waving goodbye at him.

he became so busy one day that he didn't get the chance to talk with you, that made his day boring since he was always looking forward to talking to you before ending his day but that didn't happen that day.

the next day, he looked at his window while he took a sip of a beverage he preferred. the sky was clear with only a few clouds here and there, the clouds covering the sun a bit making it not too hot outside. it was a perfect day to take a walk. finishing his beverage and doing his daily routine before putting his usual go to outfit.

suo doesn't know where to go and he just lets his legs walk him to who knows where. couple of minutes later he find himself in the park. walking and looking around, attempting to see a [hair color] head. it hasn't even been a minute and he already saw you, leaning on the tree with headphones in and a book in your hand, you look so peaceful sitting there and he couldn't help but smile wider.

you felt someone was looking at you so you peeled your eyes off your book and looked up to see suo in the distance with his usual attire. you waved your hand and smiled at him, him doing the same before he came closer where you are. patting the empty beside you as he took it as a sign to sit with you.

looking at him and you happily assumed that you two will be together. closing your book and putting it to the side as you faced suo, suo tilted his head to the side and looks at you. he stifles a laugh when he realized you were spacing out while looking at him as he wave a hand in front of you making you shake your head.

the next few hours you two are just talking — mostly you who was the one do the talking ang him listening attentively to every word you say making comments here and there also asking questions if necessary. the time goes fast that you only realized it when he tapped your shoulder and points at the sky.

the sky is painted with hues of red and orange as the cloud surrounds the sun and sky, it was so pleasing to look at that you couldn't get your eyes off of it.

the tall boy beside you stands up as he brush off the dirts in his pants before offering his hand to you to help you stand up. you accepted as you said thank you also brushing of the dirts in your clothes with one hand.

you both didn't let go of each other's hand as you both walk out of the park and both of you agreeing to have a stop in café pothos before he walks you home.

suo opened the door, the bell ringing as kotoha turned her head around to see you and suo together. she raised one of her eyebrows before grinning when she noticed that you two were holding hands. she stopped cleaning the dishes as you and suo takes a sit near the counter.

“ i didn’t know you two has something going on. ” she said as she can't stop smiling you on the other hand is puzzled. what does she mean by that? and your other hand also feels warmer than normal. slowly looking to where your other hand is, you feel your soul leave your body in just a second. looking up little by little and you see suo already looking at you with his usual smile. “ why [name]? is there something wrong? ” he innocently asked as if you two weren't holding hands walking here. heat rushes into your face making you red as you immediately take your hand off his to cover your face in embarrassment.

it was the first time you both held hands. you two never held hands even if you guys are walking together almost everyday to go home even it's not required to hold hands when walking home. you hear a plate set down in front of you. it was a freshly brewed coffee, placing your hands into your side as you just look at the coffee.

suo sipped at the beverage kotoha gave him as he saw you only staring at your coffee. “ you know, staring at your coffee like that won't do anything to it. ” your head whipped into his direction with your eyebrows furrowed. “ i wasn't staring at it " like that " ” you answered quoting the like that with your hands. he didn't answer as he just smiled at you.

he was delighted when he first held your hand. it was so smooth and soft to touch that he needed to stop himself from caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. he finished his drink when you're just starting to start drinking your coffee.

it took you a minute or two to finish your coffee since you were catching up with kotoha while she cleaned a few dishes. she was finished wiping the dishes while you also finished drinking your coffee.

” thank you for the coffee, kotoha we’ll get going! “ the girl waved her hand as a goodbye, suo waving back as he follows behind you. the walk from you home was silent, it wasn’t an awkward silence it was more a comfortable one. you and suo reached your house as he just stood there watching you go into you guys front porch. turning around as you smiled at suo “ thank you for walking me home! “ suo nodded as he ask you about going on a date together. your eyes widen when he asked you that, you can’t help but raise your eyebrow at him. “ hm, i will take that expression of yours as a yes to my question. “ he said making you roll your eyes. “ meet me at the café tomorrow. “ you said, your cheeks slightly going red before going inside.

suo stood there for a minute before walking away to go home and rest. his day can never go bad since he’s always with you.

“ you're smiling more than usual. ” sakura said when he noticed it all the way to school and café pothos his smile never faded. “ how can i not smile when the weather is so perfect today? ” he said as if quite unsure about what he said. sakura gave him a look that has his eyebrows burrowed and lips put into a thin line. did he bumped his head so hard on something that he’s acting strange.

sakura opened the door on the café, walking inside as suo did the same. kotoha turned around to see it was suo and sakura as she turned to where you are and tap you on the shoulder.

“ your boyfriend is here. ” kotoha teased making you tensed up as you closed your book. “ ha ha, very funny. ” you tried to say sarcastically but came out nervously. kotoha laughed as suo spotted you, sitting beside you leaving sakura all alone.

the two-toned hair boy scoffed as he distance himself. “ don't disturb them, they're having a date. ” kotoha whispered with the biggest grin on her face as sakura can only lean at his chair. “ that's why he keeps smiling than usual. ” kotoha shrugged, leaving him alone again.

everything was perfect, that's what you think. after you and suo finished eating you both decided to take a walk in the park again going to the spot you two were sitting yesterday. suo made himself comfortable as he leaned on the tree while you made yourself comfortable laying your head on his shoulder, watching the sunrise.

“ let's go on a picnic date soon. ” you blurted out, suo agreeing. you two weren't even officially together but perhaps going into more dates will make you two official.

date posted : 061824

[odiesdayoff]

JAIME REYES NSFW ALPHABET?? PLEASE ANYTJING NSFW JAIME 🧎🏽‍♀️

IM GONNA BE SO REAL I HAVEN'T EVEN WATCHED BB YET BUT I YEARN FOR HIM. SO BADLY. this may change when I see it like...tomorrow.

NSFW under the cut <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s a cuddler. He’ll plant kisses all over you and hold you against him. He’ll keep telling you how much he loves you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his arms. Specifically how strong he is and how it allows him to pick you up and spin you around all romantic-like.

He loves your eyes. The color, the way you look at him, the way you squint when you laugh or smile. He can stare into them for days. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s a bit more traditional and likes to cum inside. He’ll always wear a condom, though. He likes the closeness. Also includes your mouth!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s into cockwarming. Or falling asleep like that. He doesn’t know how to approach doing that. The thought of having to do some work and just you sitting with him inside? Makes him swoon. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He went through law school. In GOTHAM. Briefly a city boy. He’s had a few dates before you and he knows how to make you lose your mind. It took a bit of a learning curve to adjust to you specifically, but he’s GOOD. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

When you’re, like, laying down together and spooning while fucking? Idk what that’s called. But that. He loves that. It’s just so intimate. He can hold you close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He loves to laugh. He enjoys spending time with you and doesn’t let it get too serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed. Dark and curly. That's all I'm at liberty to disclose.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s so romantic. Definitely would be the type of person that lights candles and throws flower petals all over the bed. He’s such a sweetie. Will constantly tell you how attractive you are and how good you make him feel.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’ll never admit it, but he totally jerked off using a pair of your underwear that you had left at his place once. He’d rather not masturbate when he has you, but he has needs!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Heavy on a praise kink. Whether it’s giving or receiving. He’s also into you being in charge!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a little basic. In the bed. He thinks it's incredibly romantic. That, or in the kitchen and dining room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When he wakes up in the morning before you and you’re sleeping, he thinks you’re so hot he will actually melt. He would fight for his life not to wake you up and ask to fuck. You getting along with his family gets him going fr. Just seeing the people he cherishes the most getting along with you fills his heart.

Also…neck kissing!!! He looves it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’ll absolutely NEVER do any of the step-family or things related to family, even as a pretend thing or scene. That’s just way too weird. He’s far too close to his family to think about any of them sexually in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a sucker for making you come and oral is one of his favorite things to do. Bro will literally get under the table and give you head while you’re eating dinner if you even mention being a little horny or maybe someone that flirted with you. He’s gotta show you that nobody can make you feel as good as him. He’s a bit jealous.

He loves to receive, but is far too shy to ask for it. If you put it on the table, he’s giddy. He’ll somehow think that he’s degrading you by asking you to suck his dick.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He takes it slow. Sometimes painfully slow, making you feel every vein in his dick each time he’s inside of you. If you asked him to be a little rougher with you, he ain’t gonna say no! When you’re on top or in charge, he lowkey loves when you kind of use him as a sex toy and go as fast as you need to reach your orgasm. He likes to prolong the moment as long as he can when you’re under him. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers not to have a quickie. He wants to spend time with you as much as he can and take his time making you feel good. He definitely would not say no if you asked him right before either of you left for work and after you woke up. He just prefers a night full of lovemaking.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It would definitely take a lot of convincing to get him to do more outlandish kinks, but he likes to try some things at least once. He’s not a “it’s hotter if we might get caught” person. Very much a behind locked doors kind of guy when it comes to sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go a few rounds. Again, the scarab would increase that stamina by a little bit. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Let’s be so real. Yeah. I don’t think he would have toys for his personal use, but getting things for your pleasure is his favorite thing to do. He loves watching you squirm as he presses a vibrator against you. He would literally ask you to watch a movie, then use the vibrator on you while you sit on his lap the entire time.

Also…that suit? It can literally be whatever he wants it to be…IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He looves to tease you. At the grocery store, while you’re having dinner with your/his family, washing the dishes. He wants you to be completely dripping/rock hard by the time the two of you get to fuckin’.

On the other hand, he likes when you tease him. He’s a firm believer that whatever he does to you, you can do to him. A hand on your thigh under the table at the family dinner? He won’t be surprised when you “accidentally” drop your fork and lean over him to grab it from the floor. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Some guys are afraid to moan, Jaime’s in his partner's ear losing his mind. Initially, he’d be hesitant to be noisy and all, but once he gets comfortable (or you get a place alone) he’ll make sure that you know how good you’re making him feel. He’s a whimperer. Hardcore. You can play with his hair and his breathing gets shaky.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have a feeling that he would want to try to fuck while dressed as a priest. Maybe he watched Fleabag in college. Or had some religion in his childhood. Either that or have you dress in religious clothing and act that out. He’s not sure yet, but he wants to try it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about average size, maybe six inches hard? Uncut. Slight curve upward.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He would be a few times a week guy normally, but after the scarab fiasco, his drive increases. You could bend over picking something up and he needs to have you right now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I feel like he would absolutely pass out after a heated night. Like, I'm talking honk shoo mimimi with one leg off the bed and only half the blanket over his body.

[orengejoshi]

Love you art. My favorite thing is definitely your coloring. Flug does give t boy swag. Hope to see more of your drawing soon. Out of curiosity what do you hope for season 2?

Thank youu🥺💜

I know what you meant but just the entire term "T boy swag" reminded me of my fav rapper who just goes by "T" and since I wanted to do that for a while anyway (his songtexts would resonate with Flug so much) I used this as an excuse to redraw one of his album covers, so I love that, I'm gonna steal that heheh

(relatively unrelated for everyone except me lol but I always throw in some art when replying to asks)

umm yeah so... we're not even done with the first season, so idk. from S1-B I predict more of what we've had so far; more or less episodic comedy, slowly easing us into a connected plot. 6th episode already kinda introduced that.

it's gonna be one of those cartoons like TOH who start off silly and episodic in the first season and develop into a melodramatic serialized show from 2nd season onwards.

this is going to be an unpopular opinion but I actually do not 100% vibe with that, I prefer episodic cartoons like SpongeBob or South Park without overarching plot; comedy over drama. but it was always obvious that Villainous is gonna have a fuck ton of lore so I'm not disappointed.

my criticism rn is that I feel it's already way too many characters I'm sorry. it's getting pretty convoluted. I'm just not a fan of that but again pretty subjective. I can't bring myself to care for absolutely any character that we haven't seen animated yet. it's been too long for me to throw too many new characters in the mix, I've been nonstop hyperfixated since 7 years so I'm skeptical about changes.

as for the plot, I have no idea. we're in so early that I can't even imagine where this is gonna go.

for the end I wish that no ship with the main 3 becomes canon. it's just going to create fandom wars, just leave it open

I just want to see Flug happy...

I'll always just hope to get as much information about Flug as possible

definitely hope they explore Miss Heed's character too, as long as she doesn't end up with Flug l'm interested in her. I would like to see her getting worse (maybe switching sides?) before finally healing and learning to love herself

I want to know more about Goldheart and consequently about Flug's past

I wish for Demencia to snap out of her brainwash some day and learn about her past. I need Flug and Demencia to become real good friends and escape together with 505. I do NOT want them to become heroes but in order to find true happiness and peace they'll have to leave this place imo

but I think most of that is WAY in the future, this won't all happen in the 2nd season. but idk how long this series is gonna be, I doubt the crew even knows, so ye!

[critterbitter]

HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know if you already wrote about this so forgive me if this is a repeat question but, what do you think about Leona’s depression? I feel it’s pretty obvious in game and yet it’s always glossed over as him being ‘lazy’ idk but I don’t find many talking about his really shitty mental health with any seriousness.

Surprisingly I haven't addressed this (at least not in detail)! So thank you for bringing this to my attention; I definitely feel like I've heard people (especially Leona fans) discuss this quite frequently. If you look in the right places, you’re sure to find insightful commentary on the subject! I know I certainly have, but I've yet to say my own piece on it yet.

Now, before I actually get to actually rambling, I want to preface this post with a few points so we can walk in knowing the perspective I'm coming from. Analysis isn't a "one size fits all"! My experiences and background will color the lenses through which I view Leona’s mental health.

First and foremost, I usually don't go out of my way to claim, "this character has X condition" beyond what is outright stated or implied in canon. That does NOT mean that I disapprove of fans who may have their headcanons that say otherwise or project onto or relate to characters' mental health. You can consume the media you like however you want! I am just saying that I don't have this preference so I feel somewhat uncomfortable speaking on this matter.

Secondly, I am trying to approach this situation from a very clinical viewpoint (as I do have knowledge in this area). This means that when I look for “implications” or read between the lines, I am doing so as objectively as I can. It’s how I choose to process and understand characters from a health angle. This does not mean that my opinion is certain; you could very well find someone else in this area that gives you the opposite opinion. As always, I warn you that my response is for fun, it is NOT meant to be taken as medical advice.

Lastly, PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE POST before you comment or share your own thoughts. I'm up for having a discussion, but I ask that you not do so without getting the full context of my thoughts. It’s a lot of information, and I did my best to break it down in a way that (I hope!!) is easy to understand.

CONTENT WARNING: due to the nature of the question at hand, I will be discussing or mentioning potentially triggering topics such as ***depression, suicidal ideation, dieting, homophobia, and substance abuse.*** Please look away if you are not in the right headspace to read about such topics.

Okay, let's rip the band-aid off now: I don't think Leona is clinically depressed.

Pause. Rewind. Take note of my careful wording there: clinically depressed. I don't think Leona is clinically depressed. What does that mean, and how does that relate to "being depressed"?

I think when people describe Leona as "depressed", they commonly mean that he "has depression", not that he is just feeling sad or has low self-esteem. By "having depression", I'm going to assume they are referring to "major depressive disorder", which is the technical term for the condition.

"It's just an abbreviation of the longer term. What's the issue with using 'depression'?” you're probably wondering. “You understand that we mean major depressive disorder.” Well, equating the two does NOT a diagnosis make.

Mental conditions such as major depressive disorder are documented in a handbook known as the DSM (or the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). The latest version, the DSM-5-TR (5th edition with text revisions), was published in 2022. The DSM is a manual that sets forth criteria for each diagnosis in its pages. Of course, this includes major depressive disorder—and it may surprise you to learn that Leona does not meet its diagnostic criteria.

A diagnosis of "depression" (the term I will henceforth be using as shorthand for the disorder) is much more than having persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, being unmotivated/lazy, and wanting to sleep often. (I bring up these three things specifically because they are the ones I see being pointed at most frequently to “prove” the diagnosis.)

In order to be formally diagnosed, an individual must be experiencing at least 5 or more of the following symptoms during the same 2-week period:

Depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day.

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day.

Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day.

A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement (observable by others, not merely subjective feelings of restlessness or being slowed down).

Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day.

Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day.

Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day.

Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide.

At least one of the symptoms should be either 1) depressed mood or 2) loss of interest or pleasure in activities they previously found enjoyable. Furthermore, the symptoms must cause what is known as "clinically significant distress", which is defined by impairment in important areas of functioning. This includes, but is not limited to, socialization, occupation, and/or education. The symptoms must also not be the result of substance abuse or another medical condition, and the individual must ever have experienced mania or hypomania.

Let’s briefly go through each criterion + additional documents and see what evidence there is or isn’t to support it:

We do not have his medical records to cross reference, so for the sake of convenience let’s assume no underlying or additional medical conditions.

We must consider additional context about family, lifestyle, etc. which can confound his symptoms. For example, as a prince, Leona has grown up having most things done for him by servants. This is what he is used to. So when we observe Leona not doing basic things for himself (getting food, doing laundry, making his bed), how much of this can we truly attribute to an underlying condition and how much of this can we attribute to Leona being accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle?

Leona (at least from what we know of) does not experience mania, nor is he depicted as taking mind or behavior altering substances.

Of the first two criteria, Leona must fit into one: either 1) depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day, or 2) markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day. These depend on how you interpret his actions and behaviors. Personally, I don’t think Leona strongly fits into 2 because he still has an interest in his hobbies like Magift/Spelldrive and playing chess (though his involvement in it varies depending on the context). I will concede that there is stronger evidence for 1 over 2, as Leona has definitely expressed sadness and despair regarding himself and his future prospects. It is these thoughts that drive him away from home and keep contact with his family at a minimum. It is these thoughts that prevent him from seeing himself as worthy or even capable of change—a sentiment he shares in book 6, when he encourages Jamil but does not grant himself the same kindness or optimism. For this reason, we will go with the first criterion.

He has not experienced notable weight loss nor gain, nor a notable increase or decrease in appetite. Regarding his general diet, Leona has expressed a preference for meat and rejects vegetables. This by itself does not really provide any useful information in of itself; many people have this preference.

Leona does not experience a slowing down of thought. He is still very sharp and quick-witted in responding to his surroundings, especially in potentially dangerous ones, and coming up with an appropriate plan to counter. It can be argued that Leona has had a reduction in physical movement, as many characters often make remarks about how they perceive him as lazy or not doing much. However, this criterion actually refers to the speed at which one completes an activity and as far as I know, Leona is not said to be moving sluggishly, he only conducts himself in a manner that can be described as "lazily elegant". Even if we stretched the definition to encompass long-term goals he is putting off (like graduation), this criteria is still not counted for Leona since the wording used in the DSM-5-TR states “slowing down of thought AND reduction in physical movement” must be present. In other words, both must be true, not just one of them.

Leona does seem to experience some level of fatigue or loss of energy. This could be one way of interpreting his desire to sleep excessively instead of tending to more meaningful matters (like class). Fatigue, in this case, can also refer to emotional or mental fatigue. The sleep, then, can serve as a means of escape from reality for Leona, but it does not indicate actual physical tiredness. Rather, the tiredness can be intangible. This is also a potential explanation for his lack of motivation when it comes to some activities, especially those that demand him to take charge.

Leona does appear to experience feelings of worthlessness, though perhaps not excessive or inappropriate guilt. In fact, I would wager Leona does not demonstrate the latter, although this could be attributed to the fact that we are not in his head and he does not open up to others about his feelings. For example, we still don't know what his feelings are on almost killing Ruggie in a fit of rage. This does not discredit this criterion though, as the wording in the DSM is “feelings of worthlessness OR […] guilt” meaning one or the other suffices. It is no secret that Leona seeks recognition for his skills—something he was denied as a child and even put down for. While he is aware of his strengths, he has moments when he doubts himself (stating that he can’t change, or giving up when he realizes his plans won’t work so what’s the point in trying?), the contributions he can make (even when his older brother reassures him he can help their country), and encouragement from others (Jack telling him his play inspired him).

As I've said before, Leona does not have a diminished ability to think or concentrate. It has been shown to us time and time again that he doesn't do schoolwork not for lack of trying or lack of understanding, but because he thinks of himself as above it. Leona has already been tutored by the finest teachers royal money can buy, so he believes there is not much else for him to learn. He is also not shown to be indecisive--he can make decisions very quickly and can guide others or at least convince them to go along with him.

Leona does not have suicidal ideation or have recurring thoughts of committing suicide/death. While it's true that this is a game rated for ages 4+ (and therefore has restrictions on what content is and is not allowed in it), TWST has demonstrated to us that there are ways to imply suicidal ideation and other dark themes without explicitly saying it. (One notable example is Idia in late book 6, where he drops lines like "I'll go with you" and expresses dissatisfaction with "this world" to Ortho, who is known to be dead. To this, Ortho reassures him and encourages him to keep living. In fact, I could go on a whole tangent about how Idia better fits the criteria for major depressive disorder, but we're not going to get into that here.) The fact that TWST does not really imply this about Leona makes me think this is not true of him.

It can be said that the symptoms Leona does have are clinically significant, as his behavior is shown to have significant impact on his studies to the point where he was held back a grade. This was not because he did not know the material, but because he failed to find the motivation to attend class and to do his assignments. It also appears that Leona didn't really make an effort to work toward his future until book 7, when he actually talks his internship plans and about wanting to graduate.

We may guess that the symptoms persisted for two weeks or more (given Leona’s history and involvement in the main story), but the frequency of the symptoms is unclear since the game controls what we see of Leona and what we don’t.

Taking all of that into consideration, Leona does in fact exhibit depressive symptoms, but only 3 at most (I say “at most” because we have no idea about the true frequency at which some behaviors occur; we aren’t with Leona 24/7, nor has he reported it to us) out of the 8 total criteria. That’s 2 short of a diagnosis.

“But wait, there’s a lot of information missing here! We don’t have medical records, his weight and appetite changes, etc.” That’s true—but see, the main issue I take with diagnosing fictional characters in the first place is that we oftentimes do not know a character in detail enough to understand the full scope of their lives and symptoms. Noticing a few details is one thing and valid to an extent, but to evaluate an individual is not purely observational. This is particularly true for TWST characters, as even though there is plenty of content to refer back to for behavior, there is still a lack of really going into daily activities or deep feelings (beyond the one post-OB flashback for the OB boys). We cannot observe their behavior extensively. Because of this, tons of key criteria may not be visible to us from the audience’s perspective, let alone a medical history or other data to consider for assessment. We will almost always have an incomplete profile of a fictional character. Health is holistic and not entirely based on what we as individuals see or on all anecdotal evidence.

Just as health considers all parts of the individual, we, too, must consider individual cases of depression. It is possible for depression to exist without a diagnosis—many people (especially older adults), unfortunately, go undiagnosed for their condition. At the same time, it is possible for Leona to have depression which manifests in an atypical way. Each person with depression presents differently than the last, so I so not intend to make any blanket statements about the general population with this condition. The only statement I am making here is that based on my own interpretation of the current lore TWST has granted is, Leona Kingscholar does not satisfy the criteria for a formal clinical diagnosis, at least not for major depressive disorder as is defined by the DSM-5-TR.

Interestingly, Leona does fit the diagnostic criteria for a subclinical form of depression in a 1994 version of the DSM (IV). Minor depression or minor depressive disorder, colloquially known as “everyday depression”, is defined as having 2–4 depressive symptoms persisting for more than 2 weeks. One of these symptoms must be either depressed mood or loss of interest. It should be noted that this terminology is no longer recognized, as new information is added and dropped from the manual all the time. The information is flexible based on the consensus of a panel of hundreds of experts. Older versions of the DSM can be horribly outdated and it is not advised to reference them over newer ones. (As an example, "homosexuality" was legitimately listed as a mental illness in the very first version of the DSM. Yikes. Thankfully, this was dropped from the DSM-II. Other conditions like "multiple personality disorder" are granted new names like "dissociative identity disorder" or reworked altogether as our studies and understanding of mental health and science improve. It is important to keep up with the research coming out and update our approaches accordingly.)

We do not currently have a label for Leona’s situation aside from perhaps experiencing depressive episodes (periods of notable sadness lasting under 2 weeks) and exhibiting some depressive symptoms. I must stress that just because we lack a full-blown diagnosis, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t impact his life. Leona is shown to very clearly be struggling with his mental health. He spends a lot of time in bed, typically cannot be motivated to attend class or do complete assignments, and has moments where he thinks very lowly of himself in spite of the confidence he exudes to others. What's more is that because Leona does not speak to others about what he's going through, it comes off as laziness or arrogance to his peers. Think of it this way: if you have a bad day and snap at a stranger or an acquaintance, the stranger/acquaintance is far less likely to grant you grace or forgiveness for your behavior compared to, say, a friend. They are not as familiar with you, so they will have less patience and are less likely to consider what you may be going through on a personal level. This also applies on a fandom level; if a fan is not actively reading between the lines, they, like Leona's peers, may miss the depressive symptoms he is displaying because they aren't looking for it. How many people can we say are close friends with Leona for him to open up to them about his circumstances? I would say Leona barely even lets his own dorm members be intimate enough with him to let them know about this part of himself. He has Savanaclaw backing him, but he probably does not talk to the mobs extensively. Ruggie is his errand boy, but I doubt Leona pours his heart out to him. And Jack is the newbie who did technically betray their dorm, so Leona might not trust him. Forget about people beyond his dorm. Even his family is not much better off; we've seen that Leona tends to brush off his brother's friendliness and attempts to make amends. There is no strong support system in place for him, which is tricky because Leona perpetuates it by keeping others at bay. In the light novel adaptation of book 2, Leona has an inner monologue about how he is afraid of letting others give him hope because it will encourage him to try again, only to fail another time. I imagine similar logic applies here; he is afraid of showing his vulnerable side because it might give him hope for change when he as late as book 6 expresses that he has given up on himself. I think that this is the detail about Leona most look to when they consider his mental health. The hallmark of depression is, after all, the feeling of perpetual sadness and despair itself. Most do not realize that other factors are considered.

From a clinical lens, it is not “obvious" that Leona is depressed. However, I understand why the prevailing sentiment tends to skew in the opposite direction. For the layman, it may be difficult to distinguish what is and is not clinically significant enough to warrant an actual diagnosis. Again, most will cite the same three pieces of information to support the depression reading: Leona's irritability, his unwillingness to participate, and the rejection he experienced as a child (which has now manifested as self-doubt and low self-esteem). Characters are often judged based on fans' own experiences, and this naturally comes with biases and subjectivity. Thus, some fans may project their own understanding or preconceived notions of what the "typical" depressed person acts like in their head onto Leona. This is normal human empathy at play. I believe that other fans see depression in Leona either because they experience it themselves or are familiar with someone in the same shoes. It can be difficult, and at times we can find solace and solidarity in fiction, especially if we find a character that “speaks to us” and seems relatable. That character may be Leona for some people. If you see do see him in this light or relate to his situation, I’m not invalidating your feelings. On the contrary, I'm happy that you were able to find comfort in him and that a piece of media you love can serve as a coping mechanism. You keep on doing you!

It is at this point that I will reiterate what I said at the start with a little extra nuance: I do not think Leona clinically depressed BUT I do believe he has depressive symptoms and poor mental health as the result of his cumulative circumstances. It is possible for him to have major depressive disorder, but we cannot determine this for certain with the information available to us right now. We are still missing several key components that would typically be considered in the evaluation process.

I think it's important to step back from focusing on labels and instead focus on the individual experience, and how you can still grow as a person and not let a perceived label define you. Leona is definitely working on himself! Changing, particularly changing a deeply ingrained mindset, takes much time and effort. We may not see the progress since Leona tends to hide it and/or we have limited intractions with him. We may not always see giant strides because the process is difficult. Even so, Leona is trying to jump over those mental and emotional hurdles. He's putting his all back into Magift/Spelldrive training. He's attending classes and doing the assignments. He's going home for the holidays. He has an internship planned. He wants to graduate. I've enjoyed following Leona's journey of growth and self-development and seeing all the intense discussion surrounding that. It all comes from a place of love and wanting to support the characters we care about, no matter how we may individually view him.

[empthy1]

heyyy I was wondering if you’d be up to maybe writing a Victoria Nueman fic where maybe the reader is like a supe who’s not well known at all in like their personal life, antisocial, they’re very exclusive and maybe they’re genuinely like a myth, like some sort of phantom or something and maybe they’ve been tasked(by themselves, after hearing about how she was in danger) to watch over Victoria from afar until they actually have to step in and save her from being jumped and maybe her powers were blocked so she couldn’t fight back and so reader finishes them off for her? and maybe like it turns out that they were also at red river when they were young and them and Victoria were friends so that’s why they had been watching over her. Like a guardian angel or like a guard dog. so like a gn!reader.

- 👁

Guardian Angel - Victoria Neuman

omg yesssss ty warnings: none? idk lmk

Most Supes weren’t exactly… subtle. Big, flashy displays and exaggeration of power were Vought’s M.O. Snatching up every Supe that made it to the top of the rankings, perfected super speed and strength and showmanship, with an ego the size of Texas.

You were… less like that.

With powers that allowed you to slip into shadow, and the personality to match, Vought overlooked you. Saw a mediocre crime fighting major and didn’t think twice. You liked it that way.

After school, you were assigned to any small town. Some place that led you to disappear even more, somewhere with no more troubles than cats stuck in trees and dumb teen robbing the gas station. Most of the time, the police dealt with everything, not needing you to even intervene.

It allowed you to slip away whenever you wished, exploring the country through its shadows. Slipping in and out of places hadn’t always been this easy. But, with years sneaking yourself (and another, once upon a time) out of the orphanage had lead to a skill honed liked a knife. It also led you to… interesting career paths. Let’s just say that.

Being a PI was boring and thankless. Cheating spouses and pending divorcees were your usual clientele. Occasionally, though, you’d get an interesting case. Like protecting the soon-to-be Vice President.

Sneaking into her house was easy. Even with the increased security, and random cameras on every corner of NYC, slipping in under the door, body melding with the shadows was so, so easy. What caught you off guard was not the government files you found in her office, no—but the countless familiar items, sparking childhood memories. Not of Victoria Neuman, but Nadia. Your scared little friend, who was attached to your hip day and night (really. You slept in the same bed more nights than not).

A locket, showing her parents. The same one she revealed with trembling fingers one cold night, months into your joined stay. Or maybe her journal, pages delicate and yellowed from age.

The kicker—the one thing that truly incriminated her was her daughter. You didn’t mean to see her. You usually only survey rooms and leave, planting cameras in the dark corners. Yet, there she was, sleeping. A spitting image of the girl you once knew, young and soft.

You had to get out of there, but not before seeing her. There, sat at her desk, head a weary weight on one hand. Even with small marks of stress and age, she's still recognizable. This is about so much more than the money now.

Weeks of surveillance. It’s more time than you usually take. Instead of pictures of infidelity and sin, notes about drug drop-offs and mistress names, you’re greeted by pictures of her, notes that don’t relate to her protection. How she likes her bagels, or her coffee. How long she works, when she gets home. There are even a few notes about her daughter’s preferences—a favorite color, beloved character, and how she’s doing in school.

You were bound to get caught, one of these days. Sneaking around her house, knowing how protective she is about her daughter? Oh, you had a death wish. It’s just a normal surveillance—slipping through the shadows, notepad tucked in your pocket and a digital camera against your breast—

Unceremoniously, you’re grabbed, yanked from the protection of darkness. Sent sprawling and tumbling over the hardwood floors of her office, the one you’d almost memorized by now, you’re greeted by a familiar, pissed face.

“If you don’t tell me why you’re here, I’m calling the police—“ when your mask is ripped off by her callous hand, she gapes as wide as her training will allow her—barely a brief widening of eyes. A breath of your name is breathed, before she’s rearing back again. “What are you doing in my house. You didn’t think I wouldn’t catch you?”

No more sweet bedmate. She’s gone steely in your view, drawing back as if to protect herself.

“Nadia—I’m not here for… I was here for a job. Protect you.” Immediately comes your reasoning. Please, please believe me.

She seems too, if only minutely. Softening, just that little bit.

“You promise?” She murmurs lowly, a wary note to her words. Even then, she’s still idealistic—trusting of the ones she loves. Are you still one of them?

“Promise.” Is equally low and murmured, a pinky automatically extended. The juvenile routine, still ingrained in both your minds. Your hands meet pinky first, other fingers tentatively twining after the promise as she hauls you up.

Warmth is all you can feel as you’re barreled into. She’s not tall by any means—but she’s solid, with warm hands and soft hair against your skin. Wrapping you up in that all-too-familiar bear hug, as though you’d never reunite. Mumbled words against your skin and soft breaths meld, in this unlikely place. Meeting again, a decade-and-a-half later.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

So i was jus yk thinking and i jus thought what if we had red hair like shanks.. like not related at all it could be dyed or natural don't matter, but how would he react to seeing someone he doesnt know with the same hair color as him?

(Idk i feel like he would a lil happy n shi🤭)

Shanks headcanons?!?!

SHANKS HEADCANONS ✨️weeeeeee✨️

Also Shanks was at least like eighty percent of the reason that thirteen year old me dyed my hair red for the first time and it remains my prefered hair color to this day.

Silly and fluffy and SFW

Shanks (OPLA or anime) X Reader

Ugh his smile fucking kills me 🥹🫠❤️💀

Shanks grabbing Benn Beckmann's shoulder and pointing excitedly at you in a tavern in some port town or other, "Beck—look, look—"

*not even batting an eye* *just rubbing his temples and gritting his teeth* *tone of voice as if speaking to a small child* "Yes, Captain, other people have red hair."

*big stupid grin* "I know, isn’t it beautiful?"

*exhausted sigh* *literally so tired someone give this man a vacation*

Literally so happy, he revels in the little things and lives in the moment.

Let's face it, his whole shtick is hair color, it's in his nickname, it's in the name of his crew, he one hundred percent believes in redhead supremacy.

Basically turns into a giddy teenager about fellow redheads. Same-hat vibes, or that spiderman meme.

Any shade of red, from orange-ginger to deep red to burgundy, it's all just beautiful, and he will go out of his way to either befriend or flirt with any redhead within shouting distance.

Honestly does not care if it's dyed or not, actually kind of an honor if it is dyed because it means you're a redhead by your own free will and he just thinks that's so neat.

But if he's drunk enough that his brain-to-mouth filter is gone, then he's definitely going to ask you if the carpet matches the drapes. He fully expects to get punched for it (whether by you or Beck is as yet unknown), but he can't help it, he's just curious.

If you respond to his flirting in kind, he's going to want to keep you. Not kidnap you or anything obviously, but he's very persuasive and there's a fair chance it's going to work and you're going to be the newest redhead among the Red Hair Pirates.

Your new nickname is Little Red, this is non-negotiable.

He will constantly be playing with your hair, running his fingers through it, cuddling up to you and just burying his face in it, reveling in how bright and fiery it looks when the sunlight catches it.

If you do dye your hair, then Shanks is going to offer to help; but he has no idea what he's doing, it's going to be a huge mess, hair dye literally everywhere, and there's a good chance it's ultimately partly (mostly) an excuse to end up in the shower with you.