#teehee thank you so much!

[sugarpasteltmnt]

This your boy?

(I love your fic btw I’m not that far but still :3)

[POINTS] THAT'S MY BOY!!

hehe thank you!! 🩵🩵🩵

[stanpinesdykewife]

How do you feel about breeding kink ? Kinda a request for Stan/reader haha

HELLO thanks for sending this in! so i've never been a big breeder (breeding kink enjoyer) but you and several others are really into it so i finally gave it a shot!!! enjoy! and check out my friend's breeding kink fic at the bottom if you're into this :) under the cut:

knock knock stan/reader (fem!reader) (unless you're me and can ignore the gender implications of "mommy") pre/during/post-canon/unspecified smut, 1954 words (bonus: fic rec at the bottom)

It starts out like the normal, mostly-vanilla sex you usually have with Stan.

You two go out, get tipsy, come home, and make it through approximately half an episode of your joint show before slipping into a sloppy makeout. It's not exactly routine, but it's expected, and it's a hit for a reason. Sex with Stan is good, full stop. Which is why you’re always surprised when something new comes along that makes it even better.

“Hngh—Fuck,” you choke out, your voice catching behind your teeth as Stan sinks into you. You're on your back, staring with bleary eyes at the sight of Stan's flushed face above you. He's sitting on his heels with your ankles on his shoulders, his hands holding firmly at your plush hips as he grinds into you. “Fuck. God, please.”

“Told you you'd have to beg for it this time, didn't I?” Stan chuckles, stroking over your soft skin with his thumbs. He sounds gentle, but he's grinding into you hard, enough that each forward roll of his hips has your whole body rocking with it. He'd been fucking you so hard earlier, so good, but he does this thing sometimes—he stops altogether to get you talking. He loves when you talk to him. “Go on, then, sweetheart. You want it, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” you say, stuttering at another press of his dick into you. You gasp when he pulls back, drawing out only halfway before grinding in again. Your voice is wobbly when you say, “Yes, yeah. I want it, please fuck me, oh, fuck—I wanna come. Wanna make you come in me.”

You know, even through the haze in your mind and the growing blush on Stan's face, that that's a normal thing for you to say. It never gets old, and it's never untrue. Asking Stan to come in you always feels really fucking good. You're having a really good night.

“I know, baby. You want me to fill you up,” Stan says, full-on smiling down at you. His eyes are warm and a little unfocused as he draws out again, then pushes in, keeping that same romantic rhythm he's had since slowing down. His voice is low, almost drowsy, when he adds, “You want it to stay there, too? Want it to take?”

“Wh—Huh?” you ask, your mind a little preoccupied to register all the words coming out of his mouth. You're a little too busy staring at him, at his dark eyes, his crooked grin, then lower, to the hair on his chest leading down to his belly. Stan huffs out a good-natured laugh at your obvious spacing out.

“You always ask me to come inside.” When your gaze finally wanders back up to his, he's already staring at you. Stan chuckles again and adjusts his grip on your body, unintentionally hiking your hips up a little. He clarifies, “It's almost like you want me to knock you up.”

Your jaw drops open at that. A new wave of heat curls in your abdomen, making your fingers twitch, and your legs suddenly tense. Stan was half-joking, you know he was, but it's too late to pitch him a laugh and play into it. His brows raise, and you can practically see the gears turn in his head when you blink at him in mild shock.

Then the light bulb clicks on, and Stan's expression brightens in the way it always does when he learns something new about your body. Despite yourself, you smile, too, a flustered giggle bouncing from your throat when you realize he's about to pounce.

“W-Wait, I didn't—” You have no clue what excuse you were going to give to clear your name of a kink you didn't even know you had, but Stan interrupts you so you don't have to find out. You squeal when he suddenly grabs you by the thighs and adjusts your body, manhandling you into a new position. “Stan—!”

“You like that, huh,” he snickers, not unkind, as he shuffles himself up onto his knees without pulling out. One of your legs almost falls off his shoulders, but Stan quickly corrects it before snatching a pillow from your left and shoving it under your hips. He leans forward slightly, asking you again, “You want me to knock you up?”

Before you can answer, Stan gives you the first proper thrust he's given you in a while. Your back arches as you moan, your hips automatically rocking up into his as he starts a steady pace. Your hands grip the sheets, and you try to stave off the mild embarrassment in your chest. You try to welcome the excitement instead, growing warm in your stomach, making you tremble.

“That's right, honey. Feels good, don't it? Gonna put a baby in you.” The humor in Stan's voice fades slowly, overtaken by his little grunts as he fucks into you. You moan at one particular angle, Stan's dick pressing perfectly up against that spot in your pussy that makes your legs shake, and Stan chases it. He leans forward, over you, making your voice pitch higher and higher. He groans, “Fuck, so wet. You're all nice and warm for me, sugar. Perfect for my spunk.”

“Ugh, don't—ah—call it that,” you huff out, voice cracking in the middle as Stan picks up speed.

“Whaddya want me to call it?” he laughs. “My come? My kids?”

“Fuck,” you moan, like the breath's been punched out of you. Stan's hips stutter, and something in the air shifts. He groans, leans forward more, and soon your body is bent deeply at the waist with your legs hooked over his shoulders, your knees close to your chest. You don't know what this position is called. A breeding press? A mating press? The specifics are lost on you as you open your eyes, blinking up at Stan's handsome, flushed face.

He’s breathing deeply above you, his hot breath mingling with yours as he plants his hands on either side of you. Stan’s been teasing you all this time, but all of a sudden it doesn't feel so lighthearted anymore. Stan pauses when you meet his eyes. Shifts his weight on his knees.

“C-Can…” You swallow around the words. You're fucking salivating. You look at Stan shyly, through your lashes, and find the courage to ask, “Can you please put your kids in me?”

“Holy Moses,” Stan says, and then he's kissing you, all sloppy and heated and so fucking turned-on. You moan into his mouth when he starts pumping into you again, fucking his hips down into yours, and this angle is so fucking good you can't believe you've never tried it with him before, holy fuck. Stan is so deep inside you, pistoning his hips so hard he's fucking you right into the mattress with each thrust.

“Ah, ah, fuck, yes—” you gasp, breaking the kiss. Stan groans against your open mouth before pulling away, his eyes screwed shut as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he grunts, shifting so his forearms are caging your head, holding up his weight. “Gonna fucking fill you up, gonna make you have my fucking kids—Fuck, I'm already close.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you whine, voice strained as you reach up to grab hold of something, anything, to keep you grounded. You feel like you're floating, so warm and dizzy at the thought of Stan filling you to the brim, and your hands somehow find their way up into Stan's hair. He groans again when you tug, and gives you a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp. “Ah, shit—! Yes, I want it, want you to come in me, fill me up—”

“Yeah, just take my fucking load, baby, just take it,” he breathes, somehow much more intelligible than you are even as his hips start fucking into you unevenly, losing their rhythm. But Stan's thrusts get harder, his dick reaching deeper into your ready cunt, so deep you swear you can feel his precome leaking into your cervix, or maybe the thought of it is just so good that you're making shit up. But you snap back to reality at Stan mutters, his voice gruff, “Gonna come so deep in you, sweetheart—Hah, fuck, that's—Gonna make you a fuckin' mommy.”

You're coming, an intense orgasm rolling through you and forcing one loud, drawn-out moan from deep in your throat as Stan fucks into you with a few more frantic thrusts. You're gasping, cursing when you can spare the breath, and then you're whining high in your throat as Stan presses as deep as he can fucking go. His voice catches for a moment. Then he groans, long and loud, right into your face as he comes deep in you. It's so hot, literally, you can feel the heat blooming in your fucking cunt, can feel the way his thick dick twitches with its release.

“Fuck—Fuck,” Stan swears, shifting again so he can slide one hand to your hip. He hikes it up and shuffles closer on his knees, sighing once his lungs have the capacity. You're still catching your breath, still dizzy with warmth and post-orgasmic bliss as you think of that pocket of come being plugged inside you by Stan's softening dick. Stan breathes deeply in, then out. He’s still riding the tail end of his orgasm when he murmurs, “You okay?”

“Mm. Yeah,” you manage, carefully unwinding your fingers from his hair. When Stan can lift his head to look at you, his face is red with exertion. There's some drool slipping out the corner of his mouth, and you try a smile. “You?”

“Yeah,” he says, but he sounds distracted. He studies your features, reading your expression, and whatever you managed of a half-smile drops.

“What?” you ask. But then Stan nudges his hips back, just an inch, and slowly presses into you again. Your breath hitches in your throat, your hands flying to his shoulders to grip him there. “What are you—Ah, ah, fuck.”

You feel exactly what he does. Stan's come is slick in you, it always is, but the new connotations add so much to the warm, wet pool within your body. Stan grinds into you, getting your thighs and his abdomen slick with your come, then pulls out again. When he pushes back in, you both moan at how fucking easy it is. There's no resistance. His come is sticking the way, making it easier for him to fuck you.

Stan is still breathing deep, but another smile plays on his lips. He’s close enough that he only has to tilt his head slightly to kiss you, but it's chaste nonetheless. His grin is bright and affectionate. But it isn't quite innocent.

“You wanna try for another?” he chuckles, his hand smoothing over your skin to dip between your bodies, to press gently, reverently against your stomach. You jolt at the touch, but eventually your hips start rocking into him. Stan doesn't move. You're intoxicated by the thought of him keeping you like this, pinned beneath him, full of his come and plugged by his dick as he brings you to the edge with his fingers.

“Ah, shit—Fuck. Yeah,” you say, the corners of your mouth rising up to match Stan's grin. You play along easier this time. “Yeah. Please. As many times as it takes, right?”

“Gotta knock you up somehow,” Stan says, keeping eye contact with you, his voice oozing with affection. You chuckle at him. What a softie. Then his fingers press a little harder on your stomach, then dip lower, lower, to really touch you, and your mouth drops into a moan instead. “Gonna be such a good mommy.”

You're having a great night.

(inspo from Family Planning by burberryali, which dropped super recently and helped a lot while i learned to write this!!! if you like breeding and fluff and stan in general... which i know you do... this fic is for you! show it some love!!)

[theokusgallery]

Just discovered your art it's soo cool and I love how you draw the sunflower boys, have you ever drawn gender swapped versions of them?

Now I have !

Aren't they adorable :]

[buwheal]

Unexpected but fair.

How long were we disconnected?

[mochizz]

LAST SET OF DOODLES FOR NOW YALLLLLLLL can you tell most of them are like half-assed ☹️❌ I did a tiny little comic since I haven’t made any in a lifetime AND YEAAHHHHH okay dale dale me voy THANK YOU AGAIN TEEHEE

[jinstronaut]

i still orbit you, and nothing’s changed, but if there’s no name to love, everything has changed. (cr. namuspromised, lyric translation doolsetbangtan)

happy birthday @cordiallyfuturedwight ����💜💜

[askunwantedguestnarrator]

[Ahh I just saw a new TSP account and wanted to interact.]

May the Narrator tell us more about his character design? Or if they have any special powers or anything?

What about how closely related they are to canon? How much headcannons do they have? Are they still working via canon facts or a separate AU?

[Excuse the long questions, I'm interested and came up with these on the spot]

Sending my regards to the older gentleman and the rest.

anywhoosies, thank you so much for the question, Kat!

[bigshotautos]

Hello! I've been following your account for quite some time (since about very late 2021 I believe) and it's one of the main things that got me into Deltarune.

I finally got a tumblr acc and I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your art, it's such a huge inspiration and really enjoy your content in general :)

I love your use of shapes and the backrounds, but my favourite part are the exaggerated expressions for sure

OHHHH THANK YOU THIS IS SO SWEET.... a fellow oldhead spamvil fan you've been hanging around the puppet and clown hangout porch a while now.

i ran out of doodles so i whipped one up. hope you have a good one!

[meirimerens]

MEIRI!!!! i am taking a class in art history and i wanted to ask about your favorite paleolithic cave paintings, cause i know you're very passionate about that!

OOOHHAHHGRGHH MY GODDDD

YOU'VE AWAKEN MY EVIL POWER......

okay so this is gonna be real hard for me to choose. like reallll hard. but i think i can narrow it down. i don't know how much #info you need or how much Lore you care for me to add, but you've activated my trap card, so now you're stuck in the cave with me, i have the torch, and if you try to leave you won't find your way back. okay. let us start.

GENERAL LORE:

at least in the Franco-Cantabrian geographical and paleo-cultural area [this thing], which contains some of the most famous painted caves such as Lascaux, Chauvet, Pech-Merle, Altamira, etc, one main currently reigning hypothesis, because it allows to explain the most amount of [gesture] Stuff Going On, is that cave art exist within a magico-spiritual system of belief of the animist persuasion likely with shamanic elements. The places where walls were painted in the caves, were very, very rarely Living quarters. paleolithic tribes prefered to make camps outside, or just at the very entrance of caves: the depths were Hard to navigate, dangerous, possibly inhabited by predator animals. you didn't got to these places to fuck around; you went because you had a drive, you believed in something about them.

Jean Clottes (one of our main prehistorians in France, who wrote Pourquoi l'Art Préhistorique ?, or "Why Prehistoric Art", translated into english as "What is Paleolithic Art" which is fucking stupid, the "why" is the whole question he's trying to answer in the book, is this guy fucking stupid) identifies 4 main concepts that exist within indigenous, nomadic or semi-nomadic, hunter-gatherer, animist & shamanist societies and peoples, that are widely distributed (as such having "universal" elements) and could, likely, have been found within paleolithic societies, and possibly give us clues to their belief system, which are:

the INTERCONNECTEDNESS: of animal species between one another (explaining the numerous accounts of paloelithic art depiction species together, or separated), and of human and animal: including through mythologies in which humans were created from animal(s), or animal(s) later changed into human(s).

the FLUIDITY of the living world: animal species are recognized as kin, for they can become it; animal species are given, or projected-onto attributes that make a tribe, a clan, recognize themselves in it

the acceptation of the COMPLEXITY of the world: paleolithic people likely had deep, complex mythologies and cosmogonies, which we might Never, Ever, know anything about (this drives me insane.) their language, and their rites, might (have) reflect(ed) an understanding of the complixity of nature, or animals, that sedentary, then later capitalist societies might have lost the nuances of.

the PERMEABILITY of the living world(s). this again is seen in beliefs in the permeablity between human & animal, human a animal, animal as human: this is also where Shamanism might come into play. shamanism(s) rest(s) upon the conceptualization of the world as divided-but-permeable between a physical, living world, and an unseen, spirit world: the Shaman is the mediator, the person who can freely go between these two worlds, to communiate, to heal, to direct, to plead, etc. AND, and this is where it gets real interesting for The Caves: potentially, the belief in the permeablity of the cave rock itself: multiple painted sites might contain hints of a belief in the cave being the place where spirits dwell; and painting them is less "calling" or "invoking", even if there might be some of it, but rather "revealing". the cave itself, maybe, could (have) be(en) considered the place where spirits dwell, and come forth/from. more about that later.

WITH ALL OF THAT IN MIND. at least in the franco-cantabrian area, the placement of cave art is, very Very likely, extremely deliberate. it is not just the art that counts, but where it was made. we can ask ourselves, why it was made here, and not elsewhere. i am picking my answer on this axis. some caves might be so beautifully painted, but are The Vibes here? if the expression of this potential magico-spiritual complex and tens-of-thousands-of-years-spanning(!!!!!!!!!! this is nother thing that's fucking insane btw. did you know we are as close to Lascaux as Lascaux is to Chauvet, another very ornate painted cave. MULTIPLE TENS OF THOUSANDS OF YEARS) is visible, or #feelable, let's mention it. now onto the good part

CAVE ART THAT DRIVES ME CUCKOO CRAZY:

THE NIAUX (pronounced "Nyo") CAVE

reason: i've been there. twice. sobbed both times. came out changed like genuinely. made me go back to uni. the Niaux Cave is located in the Ariège (a-ryeh-juh) département [think smaller than a state bigger than a county] of southern france, in the Pyrénées (pee-reh-neh) mountains making the border with spain.

the almost entirety of the art is concentrated in the "Salon Noir" of the cave.

now. come close and listen to me. the Salon Noir is some 700 meters from both the modern entrance and the prehistoric one. today, like back then, you have to navigate rough, slippery terrain, crouchspaces, and generally accident-inducing (source: my dad slipped & fell just like our guide warned us about) walking space. for most of the way, the ceiling is 5 to 10 meters above, and the walls relatively close together (but not claustrophobic). the Salon Noir seems to be "indicated" by, on both of its sides, red symbol markings. now listen to me. the Salon Noir's ceiling is twice as high. even with modern lamps, you struggle to see it. now imagine. having walked all the way there, in the Wet, the fire of your torch or your grease hand-lamp to guide you, and suddenly not only can you not see the ceiling anymore, but the rock seems to speak back to you. the echo is intense, in the Salon Noir, way more than anywhere in the lower-ceiling'ed cave. your voice carries on for 5 full seconds, if you sing the rock continues singing after you. did you know? in france and spain, studies have shown that most parietal (=cave wall) art corresponds to particular acoustic features. did they sing? did they play the flute, the drums? did they use lithophones: the stalagtites & stalagmites, hit of small sticks, to make them ring? in the Salon Noir, most of the animals are bisons, as is very common in the franco-cantabrian area. now this is just something fun that our guide told us, possibly nothing more than an interesting coincidence, for its truth would rest on an unproven-hypothesis-within-an-unproven-hypothesis, but did you now that the female bison has the same gestational period as the human? 9 months.

the bison to the right, with the red markings and the "eyebrows", is my dad's favorite: he says its profile looks like him, with his beard and his big nose, which to be fair, truly it does. in a previous-previous-previous-previous life my dad as an upper paleolithic era bison. this is my dad's paleolithic fursona.

my favorite is this horsie. see? she smiles.

so does this one on the left, a protome (= name for the depiction of only the front of an animal, of a human)

PERGOUSET (pronounced per-goo*-zeh) CAVE

(* but the "oo" sound is short)

i'm cheating a little. because this is not painting, it's carving. but i consider sculpture an art, and parietal carving to be as important and interesting as parietal paintings, so. take it or don't!

yeah the whole cave. you'll see why. basically if i think about Pergouset for too long my skin starts melting i foam at the mouth etc. anyways. since the cave is closed to the public, and basically only available to researchers' viewings, it is quite hard to find images of it, so we'll just ball on this one.

Pergouset is located in the département of the Lot, in southwest-central france. this region is Plentiful with caves, including Pech-Merle that is basically next door, and Lascaux 1.5h away. why this one & not any of those two? well. come closer.

okay. the pussies & this guy with his penis out cave. what's her deal. Well, first piece of lore is to know that, in the grand scheme of franco-cantabrian paleolithic cave art, human representations are minimal. animals make up the majority of depictions, however, "archetyped" or "stereotyped" human figures that insist on sex characteristics are Plentiful. and within representations of that, "female" archetypes outnumber "male" ones by a lot. basically you cannot cough on a paleolithic "human" depiction without landing on a vulva frankly. many such cases in life as well. one of the hypotheses, which Michel Lorblanchet brings forth in his book La Naissance de la Vie: Une Lecture de l'Art Parietal (from which the picture above is from) is that it could be part of a belief system in which the cave, the whole cave, itself could be a "female" principle or archetype: the whole of the cave a matrix, a uterus. basically its giving, it's giving birth. one of the biggest data point he has for that hypothesis is the Pergouset cave. in the Pergouset cave, carvings of vulvae rhythm a long narrow passage following an underground river. the 3 vulvae could represent that of pre-birth, that of currently-pregnant (with the line in the middle, like the pigmentation line on pregnant belly + carved over a convex part of the stone), and that of currently-actively-giving birth: "vulva 3" is just two streaks in the rock, surrounding a naturally-occuring hole in the rock: as if that feature of the cave itself had been recognized as It's Giving Birth / hereditary voice I Am Your Mother. as you can see on the picture, vulva 1 is all the way back in the #depths, in the #dark, and vulva 3 the closest to the exit, indeed to the light ( -> it's giving birth). now. and this is the insane thing. foaming at the mouth like unwell arms shaking rn. i've had to go pace 4 times since i started typing. in the depths of the cave, the animals that are carved are less (see the numbers on the picture). but also, they're... more fantastic. stranger, more unusual. lacking the realism that is typically associated with parietal art. they're... as if from a dream, an undetermined land of weirdness, of amorphousness. as they get closer to the light, they get more numerous, they proliferate, life crawls the walls: they become also more and more realistic. as we reach the last carved vulva, as it is giving, what is it: giving BIRTH, animals are numerous, abundant, fully formed, their visible selves in the world outside: it is as if the cave itself, the depths of cave itself, gave birth to these animals, formed them inside of itself, let them out from this unknown, amorphous, strange land beyond the stone, where human cannot reach. humans went in, and meticulously, sometimes using a natural relief in the stone for an eye, a feature, "released" the animals from the stone, "revealed" them from their state of hidden-inside-of-the-depths-ness. the whole cave this Mother from which all the animals drawn on the walls emerged.

tldr

[loony-n-moony]

Stoner Leona real and true to me

If you feel like it, could you expand on him? (Doesn't need to be related to the aforementioned headcanon, just go where your heart takes you)

GRAHHH you ask and you shall receive!!!! I even made a banner >:D

Leona Kingscholar General HCs!!!

How ya’ll likin’ it? (˘⌣˘)☆彡 anywayz here we go

He is a piece of shit stoner, yes, but a SEASONED one. In other words he’s been doing this shit for years

Epel tried to ask him for weed advice or wtv and got sat down for a 20 minute explanation and convo (to the point where Epel didn’t even wanna try anymore)

The reason is bc his first time trying it (when he was like???? 16???) was an ACTUAL disaster. I’m talking greening out, throwing up, having a panic attack and thinking his mom’s gonna hang him.

See, for a period of time as a kid, Leona was a MODEL child. Good grades, good behavior, all in the hopes of receiving some praise and attention.

When THAT didn’t work, he flipped it and became the biggest nuisance known to man. And it kinda worked! Until he got tired of actively choosing to be the worst every single day

That’s when he just gave up and started hating people altogether.

Enough angst, Leona is the type to cry when he gets pissed

See, I’m not talking frustrated or annoyed like he usually is, I mean like RIDDLE ANGER LEVELS angry. When that happens, he has to walk out so people don’t see him tear up.

Savanaclaw was all like “woahhh he must be really upset… look at him walking away to maintain his patience… so epic…!!!1!” When in reality he just can’t afford having his underlings dorm-mates watch him cry.

Don’t let his nonchalance fool you, he’ll beat a bitch for Cheka

This isn’t JUST Leona but everyone in Savanaclaw cries when a dog dies in a movie

Speaking of, animals love him. Much to Ruggie’s jealousy.

A little bit after Cheka was born, Farena kept giving Leona shit about when he’ll settle down with someone of his own, and it annoyed Leona so much he shouted “I’M GAY” in his brother’s face just so he’d shut up.

He in fact, didn’t shut up and tried having a heart to heart with him, so much that Leona was weighing the pros and cons of killing him right there.

He’s bisexual but that’s beside the point,

Leona was fucking THRILLED when Rook wanted to transfer

No I’m dead serious Leona wanted to kick him out but Crowley was being a little bitch about it so he couldn’t. 

Usually the transfer process is very lengthy but Leona asked ZERO questions and Rook was out THAT DAY.

As long as he doesn’t have to deal with the Keter level fujoshi that is Rook, he’s happy.

Whenever Idia gushes about cats, Leona instinctively covers his ears bc Rook deadass is that PTSD inducing.

He’s sensitive to light flashes so he almost mauled Cater one time

[yanderemommabean]

*knocks on door politely*

Hello! Just dropping by with this AMAZING Gojo audio I found on YouTube!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XBYXLAFzTy0

It is SFW, but it is Yandere!Gojo pretty much exactly as I envision him. Honestly, this VA has a lot of other amazing Gojo audios (though most of them are SFW, just so yall horndogs know /j)

Anyway, that's all I dropped by for. Keep up the awesome work, Momma!

*sprints away from door as fast as possible*

oohh! I can't wait to give this a listen! My own recommendation that's NSFW is this creator on P*rnhub called "Akira dubs"

They do amazing audios and some are even yandere themed, there's even a recent Gojo one for those curious!

-Mommabean

[sugarpasteltmnt]

he will not leave my brain congrats <3 /g (literally this guy IS NOT leaving we've read this fic three times over in the past week- /pos)

hehehehe GOOD. GET INFECTED WITH MY BRAIN WORM!! teehee thank u so much!

[caycanteven]

A real fuckin' Chad bro... Big thank you to @dark-imagine-robots for your support! 🫶🫶

[buwheal]

...Unfortunately, no. I don't doubt that you hear something, but we can't hear anything on our end. What does it sound like?

(If you’re going to help out, it’d great to also add something to distract him :-) )

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

Throughout the entire game, who do you think are some of the most underrated or under-appreciated characters?

stumbling into the askbox whyyy hello there!!! it had been a while!!

OKAY SO. let's start from one fact: every. single. character has something special about them. so like the easy answer is... anyone, lmao. truth be told we (the whole community) has been around for llke, 18 years (WOAH) and some sides are completely unexplored. even just from the idea that... have you guys ever noticed how little content there is around about nerds and jocks, for exmple? and i don't only mean art but also writing, analysis, metas, thoughts and such. not to mention the townies, the townies, when, having some of them been given some actually adult attributes, there would be a lot to unpack.

i feel like this is a) mostly for the nerds, that the rightful fisgust for the horrible thing they did to mandy discourages a lot from engaging with them as characters too, and b) because they are quite overshadowed by the fan favorite preps and greasers. which, i mean, very legit. but i think that they do have a lot of potential, again, in terms of characterization and themes, and i feel like we are collectively missing out on a lot.

and there's also the fact that, even with the fan-favorites, there is so little tapping into the more serious and sometimes mature aspects. i wouldn't say christy is neglected by the fandom, but it's not often that i read someone talking about her repressed anger that explodes whenever she feels too much, that heirloom of her father that of curse she doesn't have, she isn't a problem boy like her brother, what do you mean with that, i could use this tie to strangle you goddammit! or vance, that we all love as the sunshine jokester of the greaser and heartbreaker queer icon, but how come none of us ever mention him having a canonical addiction, and what if his messy dating habits have to do with that, too? what if he's running from something inside himself, rushing to next best thing just so he can feel something?

but this is just me rambling as an introduction oops. so, just trying to list a couple of my favorites:

thad carlson (& dan wilson) (putting them together bc they're intrinsecally connected and while i do stand by the fact that he's wildly underappreciated in the fandom i would hit dan in the face with a brick): i would lterally give my first born for these two. they are what they actually wanted to write when they wrote about cain and abel. i'm not sure what is the exact reason why they have different last names, and i don't wanna enter headcanon territory here. what it does unavoidably indicate, though, is that they were doomed from the start. like it was written in their names. so, picture this: they were in the nerds together. they suffered the bullying, the abuse together. the humiliation tasted like blood in their mouths and shone like the stars they'd see with their heads smashed in a locker, but at least they knew their brother would've been there to hold them. there's something very visceral about suffering together with a brother. like the blood they share creates somewhat of a shell, one that can protect them from what is outside, that can give them the comfort that they will never be alone. whether they like it or not, their brother will forever be with them; it's inside them. except that thad had the rage of a wounded animal; dan had the fear of a small prey. so, while thad kept standing tall and proud and chin high against his bullies, dan started training and morphing until he could be accepted in the jocks. dan wasn't the bullied anymore. he was the bully. while his brother was still on the other side of the war- the side of the eternal losers, that is. the side that, no matter how many battles they will win, they will always be at a disadvantage. so thad has got all the hurt of having been betrayed by a half of himself, like the phantom pain of a lost limb. and the hurt makes him angrier and angrier and when he wants to take revenge on the jocks his brother is the first target he wants, because, see, he is the victim, his brother is cain who has killed abel. but also dan has got his head on backwards to look out for enemies and for anyone who might uncover him as the fraud he is, the way he just thought- they are just bullying me for what i am, so what if i become someone different? except that it's not like he didn't feel like a loser anymore, he just feels like a loser with a football sweater. so at that point you look at the direction of that violence, at where the anger and the resentment lies, and you stop there and wonder. who's cain there? who's gonna be the victim, who the executioner? like nathaniel orion said, "i want to kill him sometimes. i think sometimes he wants to die". i love them ur honor.

otto tyler: i have no literal idea why there is so so so little about him. admittedly, content about townies is in gnereal harder to track down, since they have... no last names.... for the most part. but the otto tag is absolutely desolated. this boy is what you'd call too angry to be this young. his first response to anything is extreme violence and fantasies of it. playing his audios you will be met with die, kill, die, kill, kill, die, die. and all of his vitriol is poured on the school, like they have all come together specifically to hunt him down. and he's been canonically hospitalized, as well; when you walk in the asylum for the first time (galloway away i believe) he tells you not to "anger the watcher"- but who is this watcher? the composition of the scene seems to implies it is the statue in the courtyard; the most coherent correspondence would be the orderlies you will have to avoid as you walk past them; maybe otto himself has just been told not to anger the watcher by the people who are supposed to take care of him, but that are just playing with his mind to make him too afraid not to behave. which, incidentally, doesn't sound too different from what he might have suffered at school. otto will ask you if you have ever punched a wall. he will swear he hates everyone in the school, that everyone in the school hated him, he will threaten to destroy it. otto is a landmine, he's an unstable kid who just needed some ground to stand on, and instead they placed him all alone on a shaking earth. all is anger is desperation, it's having spent too much time without a support system, too much time bound -to a chair, in a cell, in a straitjacket- surrounded by people who couldn't understand him. who stifled his expression instead of channeling all the feelings he had all the time, exploding and intense in an overwhelming and violent way. i like to think of him as an artist. he mentions tattoos; i like to imagine he's learning to do them himself. that he's finding that as an outlet for his expression. and yeah overall. i am a lot fond of otto, and i think he would have a lot to say.

mr. wiggins: look, this guy is super unlucky. he's the only teacher with no class minigame; he's only ever walking around, and if you saw him you probably mistook him for the more familiar mr. matthews. but believe me when i tell you he's a real one. example 1: when someone snithces to him, he says something along the lines of "thank you, but i will never be able to trust you again". BRO. let me tell you, in 1968 this guy was OUT on his college campus and he was MARCHING and RIOTING with workers and students. he even mentions having spent a night or two in JAIL. he will walk into class and say the nastiest things about reagan while he keeps saying that as a teacher he will have to be politically neutral as if he didn't just have a fight with hattrick about socialism.

[shkika]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! Handing you a star that's about to go supernova :D

omigosh for me?? yaayyyyyexploding into a billion pieces forever!!