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#i don’t know wtf to do

mlmarint · 13 days

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not me actually thinking eddie was REALLY JUST dreaming

like i was absolutely SHOCKED when marisol and chris walked in. I LITERALLY HAD TO PAUSE THE EPISODE TO PROCESS THAT SCENE LIKE AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION THAT HAPPENED????

not even for a SECOND i thought kim would could actually change her hair and pretend to be like what??? a ghost of a mans dead wife,????she met him like a week ago??

the level of insanity that this plot is like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

this is it

this might be the end of my eddie apologist era

#i wasn’t buying the whole buddie divorce era 2.0 but after this??? i can’t see buck forgiving eddie for doing something like this to chris #i can totally see why eddie it’s going to “be alone/feel alone’ next season cause if i was that man’s ANYTHING i would too not talk #kim i don’t even know what to think about what you did like wtf #THE FACT THAT ORIGINALLY IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A KISS NOT A HUG?????#actually i think i might hate kim to the core like this is just as much her fault as it’s eddie’s #don’t even try to convince me that she’s was trying to help him or he’s the only one wrong him or she doesn’t know about chris trauma #i get he has trauma but that’s NOT AN EXCUSE TO GO AFTER kim!!!!!!!!!#911 abc #911 show #911 spoilers #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #ryan guzman #oliver stark #abc 911

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marragurl · 1 month

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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?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own #marrapost

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sad-emo-dip-dye · 1 year

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Sometimes I forget that anime only bsd fans are a thing. How do you watch a show like that and not become obsessed? Like, do they know what’s about to happen? Are they aware of the absolute emotional turmoil they are about to witness? I’ve been in the trenches for YEARS and people are just out there…blissfully unaware

#I’m baffled #what do you mean you guys don’t know who Bram is yet #CHAPTER 88 RELEASED IN 2020 WTF #edit: yes I am aware that money and being able to get physical copies is a barrier #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd manga #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd atsushi #bsd akutagawa #sskk #skk

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sweetlyticklish · 1 year

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Being pinned down and teased about, “Come on, Baby! You can get out!” “Just let yourself out! Show me how strong you can be!” and they just start squeezing your hips or your sides, watching you struggle trying to pull your arms free from their grasp through uncontrollable laughter and they kind of just laugh with you, “What’s the matter, can you not get out?” “Aw, you can’t take it? You’re just too ticklish for your own good, aren’t you?” … and they don’t even care, like they know you can’t get out, they’re stronger than you, but they like teasing you about it and watching you try so desperately.

#mine #tickle community #tickling community #literally DONT fucking LOOK AT ME #i don’t know wtf it is about like someone doing this shit and not giving a fuck about how badly it tickles #and you’re just ??? STUCK.#GOD BYE

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kaite--s · 2 months

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Inspired in @sister-dear ‘s fic

it’s the chapter 2, the scene where they kiss at the end ^^

I can’t stop thinking about them, they have conquered my brain and they don’t plan to leave soon D;

I mean, just look at them! Ravio is so shameless and funny, Link just fell in love and flirts with him back, but Ravio is so silly and dense that he doesn’t realize it and I adore them GAAAAHH

So far we have only seen the point of view of the rupees-loving merchant, but I can only imagine Link suffering as much as he did for love JSFKLDKH

I can mention how Link is the one who speaks little, but do we really know more about him than about Ravio? I mean, I realized when Ravio mentioned Hilda, we don’t know what her reason for separation was!

In the game it was for Hyrule, because of the difference of opinions between the two, but in the end Ravio returns and makes her change her mind.

Here Ravio doesn’t seem to know that it’s Hilda who attacked Hyrule (she did it?), and that makes me so curious *Insert rabid dog*

…Going back to the drawing, I hope you like it! I think it’s one of the most personality drawings I’ve ever made 💕

Even if i hated Link’s wet hair, water droplets, eyes, eyelashes, jaw and muscles. It was a declaration of war.

Instead Ravio was so easy to draw 🤧🤧 Why couldn’t you be like him, Link?

#albw ravio #ravioli ship #my art <3 #albw link #merman link #bois in love #It took me two months to do this #wtf #i love them #I don’t know how to draw muscles #send help #tysm for the fic!#i love it #ravio brainrot

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mystic-girls · 8 months

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Jumin x MC fluff headcanons

-MC introduces Jumin to video games. He doesn’t get the point of them at first, but MC introduces him to animal crossing and in a very short time he has a town full of cat villagers, with a ridiculous amount of bells. (Seven later shows him his mod villager of Elly, and is instantly forced to deleted her from his game.)

-MC destabilizes Jumin by not wanting luxuries and expensive things. They like the simpler stuff, and at first Jumin is highly uncomfortable about this, because that’s how he’s been taught to show affection.

-MC catches on and reassure him that not wanting those kind of things doesn’t mean they love him any less. They just prefer the strawberry pancakes he makes.

-MC likes to tease Jumin about the fact that he likes to watch them sleep, so sometimes when they wake up first they’ll stare intensely at him, hovering one inch above his face with the silliest face until he wakes up.

-Elizabeth the 3rd gets attached to MC really quickly, and the feeling is mutual. Jumin will sometimes whine about how he feels like a third wheel.

-Jumin needs a lot of reassurance and gets easily jealous. When MC realizes he’s in that bad headspace, they’ll shower him with kisses and cling to him like there’s no tomorrow, until he feels better.

#i don’t like jumins route so this won’t have its flavor pls forgive #i hc jumin as a dork whos very clumsy in showing how he feels #thx #mystic messenger #jumin han #han jumin #jumin #also;;; i need 2 rant #jumin is a 26 yr old virgin w/ no previous relationship experience #cheritz pls tell me how the hell he can b such a kinky smooth talking mf #dude would NOT know wtf to do with MC at first #not saying he can’t get good but 😫😫😫#their first time// jumin in his boxers like 🧍 i am ready #im cryingggg

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seraphicalsuccubus · 28 days

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dear fucking god I almost killed myself trying to relax with a bowl (or several) after almost killing myself for real tonight holy shit

I just simply wanted to relax after having practically a 5 hour long anxiety/panic attack/suicidal episode and I only have some old indica flower so I ground up a bit of what I have and put it in my bong with a little kief since it’s all I have to smoke because I smoked 10 fucking grams of concentrates in less than 4 weeks so I’m not very happy about that 🙃🙃🙃🙃

so I smoke like half the bowl and stand up to go grab a drink and in the process, I knock over a paper bag I had sitting next to my bed for some reason ?????? I think it was meant as a cat toy but I randomly stood it upright in front of my night stand one day for whatever reason ????? I don’t fucking know don’t ask me I just work here ????

nearly immediately get like blindingly pissed off from that simple thing and just flooded with rage to the point where I manic clean half my room

stop to check my progress for a second after around 15 minutes, and get almost instantly hit with a wave of pain and exhaustion because I’ve been forgetting to take my dosage of pain and adhd meds for like the last month so the adrenaline of being angry ran out and the inflammation took over 🙃🙃🙃

sit down to finally relax, and barely fucking blink before I find something else to clean and get irritated enough to stand up and clean more of the fucking room

suddenly stop, almost 15 minutes later, holding a half full garbage bag, slowly coming to the horrifying realization that WASN’T a jar of indica.

it WAS, however, a jar of the 6 different hybrid and sativa 1/8ths I bought a couple months ago in March, all fucking mixed together because I had the genius idea to like condense everything and fucking cram the like 6 jars that were slightly full into the one giant jar from a previous trip (that I got an indica from, hence the confusion) until that was overflowing

so I basically just smoked a Frankenstein bowl of what fucking snorting my 60mg dose of fucking adderall would feel like in weed form and made myself fucking manic because now I want to do fucking everything humanly and inhumanly possible and rearrange my room entirely and go for a random night walk in the cool air (but no fucking way in this neighborhood, I’ll end up killed. or worse). or just literally pack a bag, throw my cats in their crate, fucking run away, and start over somewhere where no one knows who the fuck I am, delete all my social media, and never return home or have an online presence ever again, and yeah

my guys it’s been a fucking NIGHT and it’s not even midnight my fucking christ

#I am so fucking tired but also so fucking like amped up I don’t know what to fucking do right now wtf is happening

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