#i kinda wanna write more of this

[silent-stories]

Out of the castle

(Eddie Munson x F!reader) fantasy au

It's dangerous to leave the castle without any protection, without guards. This is what you had been told your whole life and yet, until that moment it was the only way you had found to have fun, relax and spend some time alone, without anyone telling you to walk with your head held higher, how to eat or what to say.

You had the opportunity to feel the grass under your feet, the sun's rays on your face and the wind in your hair, smell the scent of flowers and spices, meet new people or walk through the town market without everyone staring at you or worse, bowing.

You had never understood that stupid gesture that made you feel extremely embarrassed every time. You lived in a castle doing almost nothing every day and you were born with the privilege of getting to learn how to read and write while the common people worked hard to feed their families, sometimes giving up their daily meal for the sake of their children, and they were the ones who bowed when they saw you?

They deserved much more respect than you and your family.

However, your parents didn't seem to understand it.

You didn't know how far you had gone from the castle that morning, but that had never worried you since its towers were visible in every part of the the city, and perhaps the kingdom, from how tall they were.

The narrow path you had walked, wound through the trees and the leaves formed a green roof over your head, filtering the sun's rays. The ground was soft beneath your feet, covered in moss and some dry leaves.

You thought that if your mother found your muddy boots hidden in the closet again, she would kill you and the kingdom would be left without heirs.

The clearing you had reached was surrounded by many tall oaks and a lake, calm and serene, stretched out in front of you. The crystal clear water reflected the blue of the sky.

The frogs croaked undisturbed and some birds, hidden among the branches, were singing.

It seemed like one of those fairytale places that you only read about in books and you wondered if there were sometimes fairies there. You didn't know if they really existed or not but you had read so many legends about creatures like them, that you had started to believe them.

The "crazy" old man who preached outside the bakery a few days earlier was sure to talk to them every night.

“I thought I was the only one who knew about this place.” A voice coming from behind you almost made you fall into the lake. Luckily it didn't happen: you can't teach a princess to swim.

Turning around, you looked at the young man in front of you for a moment. He was wearing a beige shirt (buttoned the wrong way), dark pants with a seam on one knee, and a brown belt around his waist. He didn't seem to have any bad intentions and looked at you with only slight curiosity painted on his face. His curly hair was messy and his brown eyes were still staring at you.

"Since we're both here, I guess you were wrong." You finally spoke.

He softly chuckled under his breath. “How did you find this place?”

“I was just…exploring.”

"Mm." He looked at you like he thought you were lying. “Well, I often come here to fish, so as long as you don't steal my fish, you are allowed to stay.” He added with a smirk.

“Allowed” You repeated to yourself, chuckling. You almost wanted to say that that place was technically yours, considering that one day you would be queen, but you didn't.

"Wait a minute," he said, his eyes widening, "we've seen each other before."

"Oh, I don't think so." You were quick to deny. "I don't leave my house much, I like... reading and painting."

You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. They were the richest activities anyone could mention, dammit.

"But we did!" He exclaimed as a smile formed on his face, dimples on his cheeks, "You gave me a gold coin a month ago."

He was definitely prettier than any man your father wanted you to marry.

You shrugged. "I don't remember."

So he was the boy singing sat on the sidewalk that everyone was ignoring that evening.

"That's impossible! I was playing my lute outside a shop and you left a fucking gold coin in my hat! My uncle and I got three meals a day for a week thanks to that, and I even bought new boots! I never had the chance to thank you because a moment later you were already gone and I always wondered how the hell you managed to have such a coin and why the hell you decided to give it to me but now-" his babbling suddenly stopped.

"What?" You asked.

"No way." He murmured. "God, I'm so stupid!" He added, suddenly starting to bow.

That was always the worst part.

"I'm really so stupid. I don't know how I didn't notice before, I beg you to forgive me, I never meant to disrespect you and I'm deeply sorry for any-"

"No no no. Please stop. Don't." You grabbed his arm before he could bow.

He stopped mid-action, his knee almost about to meet the ground, and looked up at you, surprised.

"I'm serious, really. There's no need" You added, helping him up.

"But you're the princess." He murmured, confused.

"I know. But it's not that important, really."

It sounded funny, you had to admit that.

When he stood up and you realized you were still holding his arm, you let your hand fall to your side.

“So I won't have my head chopped off in public?”

You laughed.

"I'm serious!"

"I'm sorry. No, your head will be on your shoulders for a while longer."

"Okay, in that case." He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss that barely touched your fingers. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess of Hawkins. My name is Edward, Eddie to my friends, at your service."

“Call me Y/N, please.” A smile was on your lips caused by his theatrical ways.

"Wow." He murmured then, looking at you.

"What?"

"It's just... really weird. Seeing you here. Alone. Without twenty men ready to rip in two anyone who comes near you. Why aren't you...?" He raised an arm, pointing to the castle towers visible despite the tall trees. "I won't take 'I was exploring' for an answer."

"I ran away."

Eddie looked at you in surprise.

"I'll come back. I always come back. I have to. But sometimes I need time outside that castle. I can't spend my life locked inside those walls when there's a world to explore outside. So... I was really just exploring, actually."

"You have any idea how many people could like- kidnap you and return you to your family in exchange for chests full of gold? Assassins, pirates, hitmen..."

“Oh god, you sound like my family!”

He chuckled. "Sorry."

You never thought you'd find a friend outside the castle walls, someone you could talk to as if you weren't the heir to the throne and yet that morning, you spent it all talking to Eddie on the shore of the lake that only you seemed to know.

You realized that maybe Eddie could become your first friend ever.

You liked the way he laughed at your jokes and how he rolled his eyes, apologizing every time you scolded him when he called you “princess.”

"Do you know that your shirt is buttoned in the wrong way?"

"Princess, you live in a castle. You don't know the latest fashion trends."

You loved the way his brown eyes had so many shades of gold when they were hit by the sun's rays filtering through the leaves.

You liked the way he could weave fantasy with reality and confuse you, leading you to believe that the magic he claimed to be true actually existed.

"Of course fairies exist! They are small shiny beings and are only kind to those who are kind to them. A bit like all of us, isn't it?"

You liked his humor, sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose or was he was just like that.

"What about dragons?"

"You telling me you've never seen a dragon?"

"You telling me you saw a fucking dragon?"

"Hey, you know that for a princess you talk a lot like the people who work at the port, sometimes?"

And after hours, when you realized that if you were gone too long, they would find out about your absence, you had to say goodbye to him.

"Do you... do you think I'll see you again?" You asked then.

"Hey, I told you. I come fishing here often. And you can find me sitting on some sidewalk playing my lute."

You laughed. "Of course. See you then."

"See you."

You laughed when he gave an awkward bow.

The moment you started to walk away, you remembered something.

"Hey, Eddie!" You called out to him, before pulling a gold coin out of a pocket in your dress and tossing it to him.

He caught it.

And like the time before, before he could thank you, you were already gone.

[lambilegs]

listen, lowkey, I feel like sevika would love interacting with a feisty!reader. like, I get why people headcanon her as preferring a partner who's more submissive or, like, lenient with her. but, I don't know, something tells me she'd relish in having a partner who gives her a hard time. someone who she can bicker and argue with back and forth, someone who doesn't just ride with her shit no matter what. she'd like having someone who actually challenges her, and questions her stances, opinions and strategies. someone who gets her to reflect on her actions and give them even more careful consideration than she already does on her own. someone who makes her think even harder.

and aside from a moral standpoint, she would just playfully love it too. something about you looking up at her with a glare whenever she messes around with you has her abdomen stirring with desire. she feels like a teenager again, vying after the attention of someone who is constantly tiring of her. but, she can't help it. she likes when you punch her arm after she makes a cheap shot at one of the guys she's gambling with at the last drop. when you scoff at something tough she says, and teasingly coo that she's just a big softie, dammit, she can't help but feel like one with the way your words are affecting her. when she jokingly wraps an arm around your shoulders, you shrug her off with an eye roll, and when she props her elbow on your head as though it's an armrest, you pretend to bite at her wrist, to which she laughs and wiggles the mechanical fingers, saying, "you sure you wanna do that?"

sometimes, she tries to flirt with you. she'll ask you to go on a walk with her, or sit with her in her corner of the bar when she does repairs on her arm. hey, who said romance is dead? there've been times where you smile, heave a sigh and drawl out, "well, since there's nothing else better to do," which usually incites her pulling out a chair for you and gruffly sitting on her own, getting to work. it's nice, really. you chatter away, she learns more about you, gets more intrigued, then you leave, and she feels just a bit more hollow. it's a vicious cycle. but, she can't resist going back to it, over and over again. especially when there are little moments where it feels like her feelings might be returned. like when she asks you to do one of the above, and you scoff and say, "why don't you ask one of the girls you saw at the brothel today?"

it surprises her the first time, to say the least. but, she grows to like it. a lot. the way you stiffen up next to her when another woman eyes her with desire, how you snap and glare at her when you hear from babette that sevika paid a visit the night before. it feels like you already have your claws sunk into her before she even got the chance to ask you out. and shit, does she really enjoy that. how possessive you are, how livid you get with her for showing attention to anyone who's not you.

she nearly likes it just as much when you direct that anger to someone else. an ex-friend you're steaming with rage over, a disrespectful enforcer, someone who gives sevika, or actually anyone else in the undercity, shit. the way your nostrils flare with the deep breaths you take, how sweat lines your brow, that motion when your eye twitches. she can't help but admire the intensity of what you feel, and how you have the courage to deliver it to someone who deserves it. whether they fuck with you, your people or the city. and on some occasions, with sevika.

[jesuistrestriste]

Art Donaldson with literal loser reader? This is for the netizens of the world who don’t do anything but homely activities. Like for the depraved girls/nbs/boys whoever frfr like? Reader who’s obsessed w him, met him through a friend or sm??

art knows you don’t get out much.

he knows you’d prefer to stay inside and obsessively scroll twitter or tumblr or play video games as opposed to accompanying him to a party on campus.

by now, he knows all of your little habits that you’ve developed through your early youth and have grown to enjoy more than anything. he accepts them, because he accepts you.

but he also can’t deny that he’d love to take you out more than you usually let him.

he wants to take you out to a club and grab your hips and rut into your backside while you two drunkenly dance. and he wants to show you off to his friends when they all go out to the bar.

so when he fucks you.. he sometimes lets this stuff slip.

he’s pushing you down into the bedding and moaning into your neck, little gasps punctuating each roll of his hips against yours as he fills you with every single girthy inch of him. he reaches down for one of your hands and directs it to the back of his blonde locks, silently pleading with you to tug on them the way he likes.

“fuh-fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back as he gets close, “nobody even knows we’re dating… you— mngh—! you gotta come out with me this weekend… ohh god..”

and you pull on his hair and wrap your legs around him; your insides too stirred up to form a response. you feel him pummeling the deepest parts of your walls with an intensity that only washes in when he’s aching for something.

“… but.. ungh, fuck fuck fuck, i.. i think you like it, don’t you? staying in when im out… letting me come back to you at the end of the night and stuff my dick into this pretty hole of yours… letting me use you… AH— baby—! fuckkk, i’m gonna come inside you— i’m gonna come inside you, ’m gonna fucking— ohh god, please—“

and then he’s pulling himself out and slamming back in once, twice, three times before he lets out an anguished moan and spills warmly into your body; coating your parts in a thick, sticky, milky dose of desperation and longing as he pulls your back up into an arch while you yelp under him. he presses his stomach to yours as he rides out his high.

he so desperately wants you to quit the internet so that he can take you out properly and show you all of the ways he can make you happy.

he knows you liked him first—he was told that you’d had a huge crush on him—but none of it really mattered now. he’s obsessed with you too, so..

why won’t you let him show the world?

[wikiangela]

"I'm going to ask Tommy to marry me." Buck says out of the blue one random evening, sitting in Eddie's living room, spread out in the armchair, sipping a beer, eyes on the TV, where Eddie and Christopher are playing a video game. His tone is even and firm, not even a hint of hesitation, it's not a huge revelation, or even a decision he's made just now. He's been thinking about it for weeks, maybe months. He doesn't know why he says it now, it just slips out - maybe he just needed to talk to his best friend about it.

"Really?" he hears a hint of surprise in Eddie's voice, but when he looks at his best friend, he's still focused on trying to beat his son at the game. He's smiling, sparing a glance at Buck. "That's great, Buck."

"Yeah?" he breathes out, feeling even more settled now. He wasn't nervous, exactly, but still felt kind of like he did when he came out to Eddie. Like he just wanted his best friend to approve, to support him - and he had no doubt he would.

"Of course," Eddie answers easily. "You guys are perfect together, and you love each other, and if you're sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Tommy, yeah, go for it. I'm happy for you," he adds, finally looking at Buck, a soft, genuine smile on his face. Christopher uses this moment to win the game, and Eddie groans at his triumphant yell. "Aw, not fair, Buck distracted me." Both Buck and Chis laugh, while Eddie pouts for a moment, before a smile breaks through anyway.

"Well, I won." Chris shrugs with a grin. "And I think it'd be so cool if you and Tommy get married," he adds, moving his attention to Buck.

"Yeah?" Buck repeats, his smile even wider now. Having two of his favorite people not only really love his partner - Buck's pretty sure Tommy's the first one to spend so much time with all of them together, and it feeling so right - but also approve of Buck wanting to tie him into their family forever.

"Duh, Tommy's the coolest." Chris rolls his eyes. "Better lock him down while you can," he jokes, and Buck gasps in surprise. He's such a teenager.

"Wow, rude. He's not going anywhere." he shakes his head with a laugh. That much he's sure of, for the first time in his life he's not scared of getting left, of his partner getting bored or fed up. He knows Tommy's gonna be right at his side no matter what.

"Not if you put a ring on it." Eddie joins his son's teasing. Laughing, Buck reaches over to the table to pick up a chip from a bowl and throw it at Eddie, who dodges it as it lands somewhere on the couch. "Hey!"

"But seriously, you don't think it's too soon?" Buck asks after a moment, a little bit of nerves seeping into his tone. He's more than sure about wanting to marry Tommy. He's just a little scared that he's gonna freak him out. They have talked about this, about their future, what they want out of this relationship, out of life, but they never really discussed any timelines, and Buck might be a little in his head about this. Hence why he needed to talk to someone about it, probably.

"Buck, you've been together for over a year. Some people get married after less." Eddie raises an eyebrow. "When you know, you know." He shrugs, and Buck releases a breath. Because he does know. He has known for a long time now.

"So you think he'll say yes?" Buck asks, but he knows the answer before Eddie has a chance to roll his eyes with fond exasperation. Tommy loves him. He loves Tommy so much his heart wants to burst out of his chest and live in Tommy's. Tommy is his forever, he's sure of it, and he knows that when he asks, and it's going to be very soon, he'll get a positive answer.

"He'll say yes." Eddie says with a small shake of his head and a wide smile. "Now, two important questions from me: who's gonna be your best man, and do you need help planning and picking out a ring?"

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..

designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.

and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of what you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.

yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”

😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.

[onismdaydream]

Way too close boy best friend denji 😋

You guys are just really good friends and you've known each other since forever and you guys are just affectionate like that ☹️

HIII ANON <333 i love this idea :(( and i have officially caught up with the manga so i can at least write some thoughts down hehe

there's a familiarity between the two of you that other people just don't get. they don't understand why you're so comfortable sitting on denji's lap when there's an open seat right next to him, or why you wipe food from the corner of his mouth and then lick your thumb clean, or why his hands are always on you especially when your boyfriend is right there! and no matter how many times you say "oh, it's just denji though! we're just beat friends!", people always look at you with such doubt.

and it's not like you haven't thought about denji in that way before, i mean... look at him! he's so cute and he's actually funny and maybe you get those little butterflies when his hands rest on your waist like they were made to fit there and maybe you catch yourself staring at his chest when you go swimming but that's just because you love him, totally and completely platonically!!

and yeah, maybe denji also thinks about you and how soft you are when he's alone in his room, how you actually like spending time with him when so many others seem to only like him for their own gain, how your body seems to mold against his perfectly when you cuddle during shitty movie marathons. but it's just because the two of you are such good friends!

[fairylightspml]

dan saying every song on the preshow playlist is thematically relevant to the show ☹️☹️☹️

[shuutingstar]

pjo side characters have to be the funniest shits in the world. like all the campers at camp are all doing their own thing while the main characters go save the world for the hundredth time. I’ve fallen madly in love with every single one of them and all of Rick’s books that showcase just how chaotic and unhinged they are will always be my favourites. it’s sad that they’re background characters because they’ve got the potential to be so much more.

[tragicvampireromanceisland]

thinking so long and hard about joyness once more…like yesss they are very cute and sweet and all but i think them getting together even after their History is sooo interesting. like, does joy first start hanging out around sadness and talking with her more often out of guilt? is it performative? when does it stop being performative?? and at what point does joy realize it’s stopped being performative? how does joy feel when every single interaction she has with sadness after the events of the first movie are just like…constant reminders of how she screwed up with her prior? liking someone who makes her feel that bad when she normally never lingers on what she's done wrong just seems so counterintuitive (fun fact: joy has literally never genuinely apologized for anything she's done, across both movies. she's acknowledged and fixed her mistakes before, sure, but she has never expressed guilt so straightforwardly like that. is she simply incapable of it? or has she just...never given importance to feeling guilty before so long as she can just Fix her mistake? just something very interesting i've noticed...)!!

like, joy’s canonically admitted that she’s literally tried to kick sadness out of headquarters before. that’s truly how little joy thought of her before she got to know her better…she totally would have been fine with just. never seeing her again. imagine disliking your coworker THAT much since the very first day you met her and now you have feelings for her…?! not a possibility joy ever would have considered, and i think joy would struggle a Lot with coming to terms with that initially. she is the Queen of cognitive dissonance. of being Delusional. it’s HARD to shake off old habits just like that!! joy is someone who very much doesn’t fully acknowledge how she feels until it gets so intense it bubbles up to the surface and breaks through her usual demeanor (we’ve seen that both with how she’s gotten sad and angry before…who’s to say romance would not be the same. i think she’d just keep denying it until she just. has an Ah Shit moment with sadness one day. probably over something completely mundane).

and it certainly doesn’t help that sadness is, well. Sadness! she clearly admires joy from the very beginning even when joy treated her so poorly (knowing her she probably thought she deserved it…sigh). she’d literally just assume absolutely nothing would come out of her feelings. and you know she probably might even romanticize and Enjoy it in a weird way…i mean think about it. she canonically likes sad romance novels…this is her own "tragic romance" (apparently. SUPPOSEDLY) so i think she’d kind of insistently cling to that. define their entire relationship as unrequited and reallyyy lean into it and warp anything that happens otherwise to fit her little Doomed Yuri vision. she's observant as hell for pretty much everything, normally, but she just has goddamn Horse Blinders on for just this one thing specifically.

she’s just completely unaware of how fundamentally she’s changed joy and shattered her entire worldview (meanwhile joy is just busy having a whole crisis about exactly that). and NOW she has to deal with actually being treated like she matters, both by joy and the other emotions?? helloooo? she’s definitely got a lot to process by this point because Her entire way of living has changed too now in an entirely different direction.

AND then you add to that how it's pretty clear that sadness knows joy pretty well, but joy still has a Lot to learn about sadness because she never gave her a chance before...very much a recipe for guilt and confusion and miscommunication and other such weird occurrences to arise.

BASICALLY tldr theyre both kind of idiots and i think their dynamic is a little more complicated than people give it credit for. joyness is a veryyy. She fell first (sadness) she fell harder (joy) type of dynamic. To Me.

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

[altcvnningham]

hungry

william "case" calderon x f!reader x adler

summary: messy drabble inspired by this ask, where i can absolutely imagine a threeway with case and adler <3

tags/cw: nsfw, mdni, fem!reader, dubcon (at first), threesome, oral (giving and receiving), groping mention, light spitroasting, established case x reader, case 'shares' reader, adler is a sicko who hates seeing other bitches have what he wants, copious use of the word "pretty" wc: 1k

a/n: a snippet i might write more to if i can be bothered. unedited, messy, and sloppy as the head i'm gonna give them both. i just needed to get this idea out of my mind before it drove me insane. i still feel shy posting smut and i only had enough steam for just a drabble so sorry if it's uhhhhh not good,,,

It’s like being pulled in two completely different directions- greedy hands groping in all places, guttural grunting against your ear and into your neck, cornered by two wild animals, rabid and snarling. By no means are they ignorant of your needs, but it does get lost in the white haze of bliss as they both selfishly chase their own pleasure into you.

Hungry, is the only word that comes to mind when you let them take you, share you, like a wounded lamb torn between two wolves; the glint in Case’s eye evident of some faraway fantasy of his being fulfilled as he watches you get ruined by somebody else, someone with hands just as dirty- if not dirtier- as his; the foggy look in Adler’s indicative of a kind of possessiveness that you could practically feel burning into you whenever he glowered at you across a room, worse whenever you were with Case. Always a wretched dog, starving for what isn’t his. Never liking to seeing someone with a shiny toy he isn’t allowed to sink his teeth into. It was all inevitable, that it would happen like this. Only really a matter of when.

You’re wide-eyed and helpless when Case presses you down into the mattress, a firm hand on your tummy, pinning you like a moth as your legs kick and flail around his hips. Your head spills back so sweetly when you hear Adler’s heavy footsteps behind you- or, at least Case thinks so, his pretty girl- hair dangling in tangled tresses off the edge of the bed as you watch, upside-down, as Adler leisurely saunters over to you, unbuckling his belt.

The image of yourself laid bare upon the bed reflects in his glasses, your own doe-eyed expression mocking you with your shameless submission. You catch the flit of a smirk tug at Adler’s mouth as he tilts his head down at you. You don’t need to see his eyes to know he’s looking at you- like, really looking at you, raking down your figure and eating this picture of you up, not knowing if this first time seeing you this way might also be the last. Case is being such a good sport, sharing you like this. Adler wouldn’t want it to go to waste rushing himself, being unappreciative. You’re just too pretty- he’s wondered what you’d look like under those clothes for weeks.

You see in that same reflection Case’s body close over yours, mouthing over your breasts, down your abdomen, kissing- ow, biting- between your thighs, before he takes your legs and slings them limply over his shoulders. You go to crane your neck back down to watch as he pushes his face into your cunt but Adler’s hand from behind you finds its way down the column of your throat, uncharacteristically careful as he coaxes your head back, and tucks his thumb under your jaw to turn your face to the side. You gaze upward, so sweet and silly as your mouth parts in shock, hearing the sound of him smacking his cock against your hollowed cheek before you see him doing it- if you had any protest at all it’d go unheard with how he tuts at you anyway, so condescending when he nudges the head against your pouting lips and crooning about how that mouth’s too pretty not to take it for me, sweetheart.

You cry out as Case’s tongue licks a thick, languid stripe over your clit, and Adler uses your gasping mouth to push his cock inside. You’d already been drooling nonsense when they’d groped you in the hallway, bullying you into pliant submission, all your babbling please don’t and someone will hear and you’re being too rough only serving to make your mouth nice and hot and wet for when he fucks it. And he groans, so appreciative of you, of that pretty mouth your girl’s got, Case, and he fucks it slow, just to show you how much he likes it. Savouring every inch he feeds you, that your tongue curls up eagerly to taste. The thick intrusion, nearly too much to bear, has you gagging almost immediately, reflexively jerking your head back to breathe, but Adler’s hand slides into your hair and keeps you still, steady, insisting it’s easier that way. Relax, he murmurs dryly. You barely hear him over the sound of Case’s starved moaning as he eats you out.

But when Case gets too impatient, his own need stifling, he clambers over you, slots himself between your thighs clumsily, jostling you around enough to push your throat up further on Adler’s length; it hits the back of your throat with a shrill cry and you all but weep when Case slides into you, trembling hands grasping his shoulders as he fills you to the hilt in one careless thrust.

Between your pathetic noises you hear Adler laugh, a snide and condescending chuckle as his hand brushes your hair back from your face, mutterings of how precious you look taking it all so well. You never thought you’d feel so enamoured by his praise, when it’s uttered so mockingly. So different from Case’s, who gasps between sucking your tits, that you’re so perfect, baby, so fucking sweet. A swell of pride as you slacken your throat, earning a broken moan from Adler when you swallow him deeper. Doesn’t much matter that you choke and gag and spring tears to your eyes at the pressure- somehow even the asphyxiation feels like a reward, evidence of your effort. Case is slack-jawed as he fucks you, slow and languid, airy and mindless with eyes fixed on your sweat-sodden face as you take Adler so willingly, so obedient. In his delirium, hypnotised at the sight of you blissed out and skewered between them both, he draws a thumb up to stroke your cheek, to feel where Adler stuffs the hollow of it.

Perfect girl.

[shoezuki]

There was never a point where Qlipoth was not. No moment of sudden existence, no prelude to His divinity nor a point where matter gathered into Aeonhood. He always Was, and always will Be.

He does not know when life burst into existence or what started it. The specks of life were far beneath His awareness, growing and evolving and developing within the blinks of eons that passed by Qlipoth's notice. Maybe life was always there, maybe it grew from the shattered atoms of the Leviathans Qlipoth smashed to pieces as they krept out of the Nothing behind the foundations of His Wall. Whatever it was, wherever mortal life came from, He was oblivious to it.

It was once life developed to the point of sentience, to feeling, that Aha popped into existence. Qlipoth would spend the rest of His existence wishing he'd been aware of life, so maybe He could squish it out before Aha could become the longest lasting thorn in Qlipoth's side.

Aha was a molecular flash of light, a pop of noise sudden and so small Qlipoth shouldn't have even noticed it. But He did, suddenly so hyperaware of the atomic presence that suddenly manifested in the cosmos with Him. It stilled His hammer, made Him turn a few rare degrees away from His Wall, and lurch forward at the small being of air and light and noise.

Aha couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't grasp much of anything. Its form was incomplete, shaky and made up of the barely existing thoughts and feelings of sentient creatures that Qlipoth didn't know existed until this very moment. It could move, barely, flickering between atoms as a divine electron.

It couldn't speak. But it could laugh. It cackled, shrill vibrating sounds that echoed between dark matter and the empty space of the universe. It laughed, and laughed and laughed until it's laughter became it's name-- mere seconds right before Qlipoth swung His hammer and dissolved the Aeon into nothing.

Qlipoth settled back into His isolation and went back to building the Wall.

That should have been it. The molecular Aeon should have ceased to exist.

Mortal life evolved further, from shivering molecules to singular cells, to multicellular organisms and shimmering, immaterial beings of sensations. Qlipoth noted it a bit more now, more out of concern for His Wall or any other strange beings that will crop up, but nothing more.

Aha's burst into existence was bigger, more prevalant, just as sudden and overwhelming to Qlipoth's infinite senses as before. He never noticed the fragments of Aha, scattered between atoms, nor how they suddenly snapped altogether once more into a being more developed than before. Aha had a form now, mismatched swirls of varying limbs and claws and tentacles much like the immature physical forms of the mortal life Aha spawned from. Aha was made up of colours that didn't exist yet, sounds that had no place in Qlipoth's quiet galaxies.

The new Aeon was just as small to Qlipoth, but was still so much more than the first time it popped up those thousands of years ago. It instantly started to laugh, but it couldn't do much more than that, it's attempts at speech cheery garbled nonexistent words.

For the first time in Qlipoth's endless existence, He felt something, an emotion breaching the divinity -- annoyance.

Aha cackled and tried to speak up at Him, undulating limbs vibrating and thrown around in something like cheer. Qlipoth's reaction was near instant, a pivot from His Wall and a swing of His hammer. But Aha knew better then, no doubt remembering the scattering of it's being as it zipped across the universe and narrowly avoided being dissolved once more. Aha gigglees in a way that shakes stars and Qlipoth simmered with new feelings that burned across His gargantuan form. The miniscule Aeons gargled non-speech tempted Him to strike again, but Qlipoth just barely resisted and returned to His Wall.

Aha hovered around Qlipoth for an indescribable amount of time. It challenged Him, toeing closer and closer to the Wall, seeing how close it could get before Qlipoth snapped and swung at it. Sometimes Aha gets scattered again, not dodging quick enough, only taking a few centuries to reform, only for Aha to return to testing Qlipoth's patience. It's only fitting that the very first game is entirely built on bothering the much larger Aeon.

Annoyance, frustration, and rage were all becoming familiar feelings to Qlipoth. It's all fixated on Aha, the sole fixation of His emotions. The cause of it, Qlipoth eventually realized; when Aha is scattered or it's flickering attention pulled elsewhere, Qlipoth's entire existence returned to the unfeeling need to protect, to build, to close off the universe from the Nothing. The moments and decades between the Elation being shattered and reforming feel like intermissions, waiting for Aha to return.

Qlipoth at some point realized He welcomed the strange, small Aeon and the range of feeling it instilled in Him. Qlipoth stopped shattering the Aeon so much, only when Aha decided to be truly bothersome and started picking away at the Wall. It seems like the other Aeon can't be destroyed anyways, and maybe He doesn't always want it gone anymore.

There's other Aeons. They creep into existence, ascending to divinity. Qlipoth paid them no mind, not caring where or when or how they begin. Long seemed to simply always exist, perhaps having been outside of Qlipoth's notice this whole time. HooH appeared a few times to judge the Wall, their twin gazes seeming to find the structure satisfactory every time they appeared while Qlipoth continued to build unbothered. The Voracity is pummeled and nearly destroyed when they consume a segment of the Wall, Qlipoth leaving them to scamper back into the Nothing and lick their wounds. Oroboros lays low for centuries after that but does not tempt Qlipoth's ire again.

Qlipoth wouldn't care much about them, wouldn't know anything about the other Aeons or anything kept within His Wall really, if Aha wasn't constantly blabbering to Him.

"Aha likes this Trailblaze guy," it hummed, sitting on empty space up by Qlipoth's shoulder, kicking it's legs back and forth. Aha is larger now, no longer a molecule in comparison to His size but more of a pebble, a bug. It's form is made up of strange manmade objects, grinning masks and musical instruments and toys and ribbons. "They're funny! And much less standoffish than you are, you hunk of rocks."

Aha giggled at Qlipoth's rumbling reply, the sound of tectonic plates shifting and meteors crackling apart. Aha's voice was a symphony of many, hundreds of different tones and words spoken in hundreds of different accents and languages. Verbal speech isn't necessary, something Qlipoth always made abundantly clear in His otherworldly responses. Aha never listened, just laughed Qlipoth off and waved one of many gloved hands. It always was one for theatrics.

"Hey! It's not Aha's fault your a stick in the mud." There was the sound of a slow landslide, debris and gravel scraping over a slanted rockface. "It means you're boring, old, and not cool at all. Which you aren't! At least Akivili knows how to cut loose. They got some big ideas, something about trains and space faring or whatever. Aha is excited to see where that goes!"

A harsh sound of stone snapping, and Aha paused, leaning forward and holding up their grinning mask face with a twitching hand. Qlipoth refused to acknowledge them. "If Aha wanted to hang out with Akivili, it would be with them now." His grumble was a slow collision of planets. "My dear Qlipoth, are you jealous?"

Qlipoth didn't respond, which was definitely the worst choice He'd made. Aha giggled, then snorted, then cackled and vibrated as it shifted the surrounding stars around it's glee. Aha finally settled down and controlled itself after a few years, sitting down on Qlipoth's shoulder with a sigh. Qlipoth halfhearted swatted at the other Aeon, who dodged effortlessly after eons of practice.

"Ahhh, that's funny. You're funny sometimes, y'know that?" Aha exhaled, wiping at diamond tears from its eyes. "Aha takes back the 'stick in the mud' thing. Really, though, you're a good friend." A hummed sound of a mountain forming, earth's crust cracking. "It means Aha likes being around you and likes your company. It's a mortal concept-- Aha knows, it knows! That's very below you, oh majestic Amber Lord you, but. Aha likes it."

There was silence. Qlipoth, as always, had nothing to say, but Aha's lack of constant stammering and babbling is notable. It was almost a bit unnerving, until Aha sucked in a sharp, unnecessary breath. "Aaaaaanyways, what was Aha saying? Oh! Yeah, Akivili is interesting, but this other guy-- the Propagation? They've got a name but it's way too long and boring-- is kinda concerning. They are just gross and they have no personality! Seriously, they're becoming a bit of a problem. Just a massive bug hivemind... Aha tried talkin' to some of them, but they don't understand Aha's jokes. No class, I say. Oh, and Aha hasn't seen HooH in a while, because they tried to organize Aha into two categories last time. Aha blew up a planet of their worshippers after that but they didn't care. Hey, have you seen Oroboros around anywhere? Aha has been wondering what would happen if they try and swallow Aha, but..."

Qlipoth didn't like how Ena the Order looked at Aha.

Aha was a force of chaos, as unpredictable and uncontained as the growing mortal populations the Elation seems to love so dearly. It ran around the vast universe constantly, always on the move and causing problems. Aha returned to Qlipoth fairly regularly but still sparodically, sometimes centuries between visits at the Wall, and sometimes thousands of years before it returned to pester Him. Regardless, Aha always brought emotions back to Qlipoth's awareness, the capacities for frustration, annoyance, interest, irritation, and maybe contentment. Aha brought first hand accounts of the chaos it caused, too; planets destroyed or warped into strange shapes, galaxies rearranged so that their gravity sang a sweeter tune, populations of sentient creatures made to dance and weep and scream. Aha tipped the universe out of balance, danced on the edge of the Nothing and along all other Paths, all for entertainment.

Qlipoth did not like how Ena watched the Elation. Qlipoth did not watch any other Aeon like He did Ena; the Order crossed Paths with the Elation often, tidying up Aha's messes and rearranging the chaos Aha created. Even the kinder things Aha did, planets moved to spin at a calmer rate and starforms turned beautiful arrays of colour, were all fixed with Ena's mechanical, methodical hands.

Ena looked at Aha's uncertainty and rampant emotional chaos like She wanted to solve it, fix it, be rid of it.

The Propagation was expanding outside of Qlipoth's notice, His knowledge of it only due to Aha's complaining. Ena confronted him with a proposition, a deal. Spoken in vibrations, constant tones. The Propagation needed to be exterminated. Qlipoth did not care.

The Propagation was killing thousands of mortals, was overtaking the universe. Qlipoth gathered and spawned more minerals for the Wall. The Propagation could kill Aha, the Elation, along with the universe. The mention of Aha sparked enough sentience to make Qlipoth rumble with a mockery of a laugh.

Ena's hands crackled, porcelain and gold joints crackling. Ena's eye swirled and landed on Qlipoth, fierce with threat. Qlipoth finally paused and looked at the other Aeon, and accepted the proposition.

The Order is absorbed before Qlipoth confronts Tayzzyronth, Xipe the Harmony overcoming Order and standing alongside the Aeons as Qlipoth fractures the Propagation with His hammer. Aha watched with interest, cheering and screaming and celebrating far too loudly as Qlipoth seals the remnants of Tayzzyronth in amber. Xipe watched Aha's pluming sparkles and confetti, his raoucous chaos and disorder, and their giggle sounds like a symphony.

Qlipoth found himself content with Xipe. Ena held up Her side of the deal well.

Aha started adding to the Wall.

At first it was to annoy Qlipoth, grabbing meteors and debris and strange starforms and shoving them into the Wall without care. But the first time made Him vibrate and rumble with approval, sounding of the pop of plants rising from earth and stones being weathered down smooth. That had made Aha freeze deadly still more than any annoyed retort or swing of His hammer had before, made the Elation stare at Him strangely. Being met with even Qlipoth's stony gratitude rather than being the brunt of frustration seemed to make Aha glitch.

Aha, of course, proceeded to plunge it's hands into the Wall and rearrange the physical matter, not even bothering to run when Qlipoth slammed His hammer down on the Aeon. Aha's particles shattered against the Wall.

Aha reformed some time later, cursing Qlipoth out in every language possible, but Aha kept adding to the Wall. It was always strange, unnecessary things; sparkling gems, debris from shipwrecks, the fossilized remains of extinct animals, manmade creations that stuck out awkwardly. Aha shifted the Wall and created statues in the Elation's likeness, hundreds of thousands of Aha figures jutting from the Wall. But it never broke the Wall or interferred with its integrity every again. Aha's additions to the Wall barely made a difference, were barely noticeable. But Qlipoth found Himself humming with contentment each time Aha added another knicknack to it.

Qlipoth watched on as Aha waltzed along the Wall, nearly tripping into the Nothing as it danced and sang, recreated plays and theatre performances it stole from humans. Qlipoth could only feel when Aha was around, but it had taken Him until those moments to really feel some appreciation for a Path other than His own.

Other Aeons came into existence.

Yaoshi sprung to life from twisted plantmatter, intertwining into something greater. Aha first found interest in this, then grew bored of the single-minded desire to grow for the sake of growth itself. "You'd think growing and eternal life and all that would lead to more fun," Aha once lamented, "but Yaoshi makes those mortals so... dull. They become numb and wither away. Where's the fun in that?"

Lan rose in response to Yaoshi, a being of pure rage and a thirst for blood. Aha poked and prodded and mocked until arrows rained across the cosmos, green strikes of lightning briming with rage as Aha laughed and danced around them. Sometimes he hid behind Qlipoth who never even flinched as the arrows striked His back, and rarely did Lan hit his mark. Nous made Aha uncomfortable in contrast, but intrigued him in a strange way. "That bucket of metal wants to dissect Aha," the Elation would shiver, faces crying in exagerated unison, "wants to pin Aha to a board in her library. You should kill Nous." Aha wept further at the sound of stars crumbling with Qlipoth's refusal.

Qlipoth had turned towards Nanook when Aha regaled tales of being threatened, but thankfully found that the Destruction was unimpressed with the smallest Aeon, easily fooled by Aha's childishness. Fuli showed clear disdain for Aha as it stole human memories for itself, but unlike Ena at least they showed enough restraint to ignore Aha.

IX was a challenge to the Elation. Mythus was hilarious, and Terminus couldn't take a joke.

Aeons fell, too.

Idrila ceased to be and Aha quickly masqueraded as the Beauty, sending Knights of Beauty and wild journeys. Long fragmented eons ago, outside of Qlipoth's notice.

The arrows Lan sent racing towards Aha rarely hit their mark, but sometimes they did. Piercing rays of rage, hot-white anger would send Aha scattering in a burst of laughter. Aha would always, always reform.

Aha had always had an interest in mortals. In the smaller aspects of the universe. So often when rambling to Qlipoth it spoke of legions of starhopping amphibians, movies or plays it'd plucked from mortal memory and kept to itself, the overly intricate ships humans made to traverse galaxies, the strange games and music and drinks they created through their small existences.

"Have you ever left this Wall, Qlipoth?" Aha once asked, placing jewelry and gems on the Wall, "ever even like, turned around and looked at what you're preserving?" There's an echo of thunder, of earthquakes settling. "Yes yes, Aha gets it! It's all beneath you, it doesn't matter, blah blah. You old bastard."

There was a stitled moment of silence, save for Aha's constant humming, before it whined again. "But, really! You Aeons are all so high and mighty and stuck up sometimes. Have you ever even tried to eat some food? Like, something those mortals cooked up? Wait. Do you even have a mouth."

Qlipoth's minerals clattered against each other in response. Aha huffed, crossed it's dozens of arms, masks swirling upside down. "... Y'know, Akivili hangs out with mortals. And Akivili has a mouth."

He didn't respond, but the next swing of His hammer crushed a fleet of surveying IPC ships. Aha applauded.

"Aha made a puppet," the Elation reported to Qlipoth much, much later. It had been an extensive amount of time since Aha visited Him last, but Qlipoth would never let Aha know he kept track. "Aha put the puppet on one of Akivili's Astral Expresses. It was a lot of fun, but it wasn't Aha. So Aha blew it up! You should've seen Akivili's face!" Aha cackled, kicking it's feet and tumbling far too close into the Nothing. The Elation didn't even seem to notice how Qlipoth pulled it back behind His Wall, too busy rejoicing in what it did.

Akivili fell not long after.

When Aha visited next, Qlipoth didn't need to say a thing to have the other Aeon huffing, it's hackles raising and millions of bells furiously ringing. "Aha had nothing to do with that, you heap of rocks! To accuse your dearest friend, Aha, of that! For shame." Qlipoth's garguantuan body grinds against itself as He tilts his head, riling it up further. "Don't give Aha that bullshit! You were thinking it! Aha could hear the thought clattering 'round that pebble mind of yours. Really, it blows up one Astral Express and suddenly Aha is the Akivili killer. Ridiculous!"

Qlipoth just tuned out Aha's rambling, turning back to the wall and not noticing when Aha enters an unsettling silence.

Something changed in Aha ever since its stint on the Express.

Aha had always been a being of pure energy, flighty and erratic as it sought out thrills across the universe. Even the moments it spent on Qlipoth's Wall were full of energy, rambling about nothing and bouncing atop and across the Wall.

But the Elation had become quiet. It's journeys and chaotic jokes across the galaxies never stilled, but it became quiet in His shadow. There wasn't any rambling gossip, complaints about the other 'stuck up' Aeons or stories of the Elation Aha had created. It became pensive, a pensiveness overtaking it's constantly anxious energy. It was strange, and uncanny. Qlipoth found Aha's restless melancholy contagious. Qlipoth tried not to wonder, not to care.

"Aha has decided," Aha hummed out a single note, a voice of low cords, "to make itself mortal."

Aha was always reckless and idiotic, never one to think anything through. It's actions were always spur of the moments, never planned or deliberated over. It had never told Qlipoth what it wanted to do before. This wasn't the Aeon asking for advice let alone permission, more like it musing aloud, but Qlipoth still responded.

The sound of planets colliding, the slow and agonizing growth of the edge the universe. Stars crackling and burning themselves into extinction, intercepting galaxies leaving only destruction. Qlipoth's disgust and disapproval made the Nothing quiver. Aha was unaffected.

"Aha talked to Nous," it continued, laying back on one of the many meteors that make up His body. The Elation felt like a smoldering jubilation against His rocky surface. "She said it's impossible and got way too interesting, but Aha is gonna do it anyways."

There's never a point in arguing with Aha, not that Qlipoth ever bothered to before. He doesn't then either, doesn't say anything as Aha zips away without a word, leaving sounds of soft revelry in its wake.

Qlipoth found what remained of Aha later. Aha never returned after that last visit, and all that was left of it was butchered remains, the Elation flayed and left in scattered limbs and objects beside the Nothing. Whatever was left of Aha wasn't there, not among it's still living dismembered corpse.

The remains of Aha wasn't enough to spark any feeling in Qlipoth. As He built the Wall He only paused a moment with recognition, no feelings of melancholy, rage, annoyance. Qlipoth did not care.

But, as the eternally growing Wall approached the remains of Aha, Qlipoth moved it, shifted the Celestial Wall to encase Aha, wrapping around it in a cocoon of amber.

[chipistrate]

Scared and Alone

(Click for better quality) Dr. Rabbit is officially my second favorite fnaf character(right next to Gregory) He's just such a little shit I love him<3

Anyway- me when I'm luring me and my coworkers therapists to their death and my coworker is annoyed at how much cleaning she's going to have to do afterwards

No text version below cut(has silly dialogue):

Screen transcript:

(Dr. Rabbit) >Girl I stg why are all our therapists soooo ass

(Vanny) >You're like >10 >Can you say that

(Dr. Rabbit) >Not like my "parents" can stop me

(Vanny) >Jesus Christ dude

[lordkuntfuck]

Au where a drunk newly 19 year old Eddie shacks up with a girl, not long before he gets together with Shannon. 9 months later a baby shows up on his doorstep.

(I'm sorry in advance)

Not knowing what to do but not wanting to just abandon a baby, Eddie and Shannon take him in. Everything continues as is in canon (to an extent) but now with the extra layer of chris not actually being biologically Shannon's (so her story is even more heartbreaking (I love her, this is not Shannon bashing at all))

Eddie joins the 118 and meets the firefam, all is well. He can't help but think that Buck guy looks vaguely familiar but then again blond white jocks are pretty indistinguishable.

One day, a few years later, their all talking about their childhoods while on a q-word shift. Buck says something along the lines of "when I was little girl" without thinking about it.

Everyone's a little surprised but very accepting obviously.

Later after the shift, when they're alone, Buck needs to find out more on how Eddie feels about him being trans so tells him he can ask him anything. Eddie asks about like when and how he knew and stuff like that. It starts getting a bit emotional cuz of the Buckley parents and whatnot.

So to lighten the mood Buck makes a joke about being a really hot woman and he knew the world couldn't handle it so he had to transition for the sake of humanity. Eddie makes a snarky comment about how that's impossible (and quietly thinks that no way Buck could be hotter as a woman than he is as a man).

Buck takes offense (jokingly) and decides he needs to prove himself. He shows a photo to Eddie when he was 18, not long before he was able to start socially and medically transitioning (he couldn't before because of his parents). He's also not usually this nonchalant about himself pre-transition but it's Eddie and he trusts him.

Eddie's about to make another joke but as he takes a closer look at the photo, he almost drops Buck's phone. Because no fucking way.

Buck thinks Eddie's reaction is to how hot he was and makes a comment about how he knew Eddie would be drooling over him (he tries not to hurt himself too much with that thought, it was just meant to be a joke after all)

But then he realises that Eddie isn't laughing anymore and he's like having a full blown panic attack and shit what just happened.

Meanwhile Eddie's mind is slowly imploding because what the hell is he meant to do with the knowledge that not only has he already slept with Buck, did so when Buck was in a body he was massively uncomfortable with (which makes Eddie feel extremely guilty), but that there's an extremely high likelihood that he's the father of Buck's son.

Not that he isn't completely shocked by this cuz like come on despite all the years of trying and failing to not wonder who Chris's bio mom was, this scenerio certainly never crossed his mind. And yet somehow he can't say he's that surprised, the amount of time people have thought Buck was Chris's dad instead of Eddie becuase of how similar they look. It actually makes perfect sense.

And maybe he'd be more freaked out if Buck wasn't as close to Christopher as he is because seriously he's thought of that man as a second father to his son for the last however many years already, it's actually kind of a comfort to found out he literally is.

It's that though that finally calms Eddie down enough to allow him to breathe normally again.

Buck is looking at him with that look (you know the one) and Eddie kinda melts on the spot.

Now he just needs to figure out how to break the news to Buck without freaking him out so much that he'll leave again.

Cuz that's another thing, Buck didn't want that kid, except Eddie knows Buck and he knows how much he craves a family so why the fuck did he abandon Chris on his doorstep all those years ago (seriosuly is there any adult in his son's life that hasnt left him at least once, god that poor kid). Also how does Buck not know, if he knew enough to know which house to drop the kid off at, how doesn't he recognise him, he hasn't changed that much. Or maybe he does know but hasn't said anything because he doesnt want that. There are so many questions and Eddie doenst know what to do, he kinda wants to break down again but he feels too drained to even do that.

They don't end up talking about it that night, they just sit with each other until it gets late enough that Buck realises he should get going so he's not a zombie at work tomorrow. Eddie let's him leave.

Buck doesn't really get what happened that night, everything was going fine until he showed Eddie that old photo of him. He couldnt help but think that sure maybe Eddie was fine with him being trans as like a passive thing that happened to him, but when Buck forced him to see the changes he'd gone through it got too much? Eddie's pretty repressed and grew up catholic of course this was gonna be difficult for him to accept when he was probably told people like Buck where freaks of nature or somehting (obviously not all Catholics believed that but he's spiraling here)

After many many hours of self-hatred, a long long talk with Maddie (which included a lot of cuddling with his favourite niece), and a metophorical slap round the head from Chim, Hen and Bobby. Buck confronts Eddie about it.

Eddie feels like a peice of shit for making Buck think his reaction was due to transphobia, and he felt even worse when Buck tried making excuses for him.

Eddie realises he has to come clean.

Buck freaks out as expected. However it's not for any of the reasons that Eddie thought it would be.

Turns out when Buck realised he was pregnant he returned home. He hadn't been gone for long and he really didn't want to have to go back already but he couldn't do this by himself and he wasn't about to ask the random dude he'd hooked up with at a party to raise a child with him. His parents were shocked and reprimanded his behaviour but helped him through his pregnancy nevertheless. Buck suspects it was because they that this meant he would finally change his mind about being trans, but if course it didn't, leading to so many fights and leaving a very hormonal Buck in tears everytime.

Buck doesn't remeber giving birth, he doesn't even remember the drive to the hospital. All he remembers is waking up, his parents sitting by his side, Maddie nowhere to be seen (she was never told, iconic that they both ended up keeping pretty big secrets from each other involving a child). His dad looked stoic but somber, and his mom had two perfect tear tracks running down her face, her makeup left unaffected.

Immediately Buck knew something was wrong, it didn't take a genius to figure out what that something was. His parents told him the baby hadn't even taken a first breath.

Buck looked up at Eddie after finishing the tale of the worst day of his life. Eddie was red faced and crying, Buck had never told anyone else that story before, not even his therapist, he knew he looked much worse.

Eddie takes Buck's hands in his own, forcing Buck to meet his gaze, and says with as much love as humanely possible "he's alive". Buck let's out another sob, and God he sounds so wrecked. Eddie repeats himself, "he is alive, Chris is alive, our son is alive"

Before Buck can respond the phone rings, it's the hospital, Chris was in some kind of accident and he's being taken into surgery, they don't know if he's gonna make it yet.

Buck is delirious, he almost wants to laugh because he's just found out that his child that's he's thought was dead for the past 13 years is actually not only alive but the son of the literal love of his life (whos very much straight and does not reciprocate by the way), now might actually be dead. The whiplash is enough to kill a man.

Eddie has gone pale, he looks like he's about to throw up, Buck cant help but think ditto (okay he's still a bit delirious)

They race to the hospital, neither of them should be driving but they're not about to waste time waiting for an uber.

When they got to the hospital, one of the parents of another kid in Chris's class is there. She tells them she was driving them back to hers for the kids' sleepover when a drunk driver smashed into the side of the car, the side Chris happened to be on.

Hospitals are shit. Waiting rooms in hospitals are even more shit. Waiting in a waiting room in a hospital while your son is having potentially life saving surgery and no reassurance that he's going to make it is soul destroyingly shit.

Buck's mind is stuck in a loop of "his first breath was stolen from you, now his last breath mightve been too"

After what felt like a lifetime of misery, a doctor finally approaches them.

Eddie is grasping Buck's hand so tightly he thinks he might break it (hey at least he's already in a hospital his brain provides)

The harmonious sighs of relief that punch out of the two men when the doctor tells them the good news could surely be heard the next state away.

For the second time that day Eddie turns to Buck, with tears staining his face and a wobbly smile and says "he's alive"

[crybaby-bkg]

have u ever considered gojo trying to tease you about how into it you get whenever you suck him off, but how flustered he gets when you admit yeah, I like it more than I thought i would, mainly because it’s you, because you’re so pretty to look up at, you always treats me so well when I’m on my knees for you. now you’ve killed him, especially with the way you’ve been touching yourself all the while running your tongue up at that one vein on his shaft. dead. gone and buried.