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Okay fine hiatus
#air vent reattling#is it good for my mental health? no not at all#we self destructing on this day#we know thats what were doing but that doesnt stoo the urge#cw self harm#self harm via isolation but whatever
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Thanks for the tag, @squibbles-gubwee vuv
Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then tag your mutuals
I used a playlist of liked songs cause I don’t have a favourite playlist
1. I’m so hot- chrissy chlapecka
2. Sunshine, lollypops and rainbows -lesly gore
3. What I want - george mcmurry
4. Mimicry - kerli
5. I wanna dance with somebody - fallout boy
Tag, you’re it should you wanna play!
@muzzlemouths @certified-handler @doofnoof @thelonereni @that-shy-fanfic-writer @thatmooncake
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Commission Slots
Currently open as assistance to @driftingmoonmenace who is in a bit of a bad spot right now. Will update as needed to confirm whether or not slots are open/who has claimed them.
Commissions are not really limited by a word count and are simply $10 per every 1,000 words (do not be surprised if there are extra).
If you would like to claim a slot, simply send a donation of any amount to Menace's Ko-Fi and send me confirmation. I also request some sort of an idea.
Slot 1: Open
Slot 2: Open
Slot 3: Open
Slot 4: Open
Slot 5: Open
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HEY HEY HEY!
I might be opening writing commissions again soon to help out my beloved @driftingmoonmenace cover vet bills for their sick kitty!
I'll only be opening 3 slots this time if I do, $25 USD a slot (2500 words)
Please keep your eyes peeled for more info if you're interested (or you can just DM me if you have any questions)
ALSO IF YOU CAN'T AFFORD THE FULL $25 PLEASE JUST CONSIDER DONATING WHAT YOU CAN:
Support JUICYDEM0N on Ko-fi! ❤️. ko-fi.com/juicydem0n - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page.
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SPOILER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 15
aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Yes this is rushed---- no it's not cuz Iwannarereadchapter15beforebed--whotoldyouthat??--
AGAIN--please read this amazing stupendous FANFIC I highly HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT!!!! @spadillelicious IS SUPER SUPER TALENTED GO TAKE A LOOK AT HER STUFF!!!!
ALSO!! please do tell me if the videos I post are ever loud- my pc has silly settings at the moment I apologize---
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HEY HEY HEY!
I might be opening writing commissions again soon to help out my beloved @driftingmoonmenace cover vet bills for their sick kitty!
I'll only be opening 3 slots this time if I do, $25 USD a slot (2500 words)
Please keep your eyes peeled for more info if you're interested (or you can just DM me if you have any questions)
ALSO IF YOU CAN'T AFFORD THE FULL $25 PLEASE JUST CONSIDER DONATING WHAT YOU CAN:
Support JUICYDEM0N on Ko-fi! ❤️. ko-fi.com/juicydem0n - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page.
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Secret Panel HERE 🙌 tapas.io/episode/3161466
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I could just see it
Eclipse and the bartender are in the Harry beautiful garden, both lovers sitting on the stone bench and holding hands while the bartender just leans on him.
😩🥺
It was a beautiful day, sun shining and birds chirping; a perfect day to be out in the garden.
The two of you had the space all to yourselves for the time being. Henry had taken his wife and daughter out to breakfast and Greene, the animatronic gardener, had set off bright and early to fetch more soil and fertilizer in preparation for the warming season, leaving you and Eclipse to enjoy the serene rooftop garden while the weather still remained tolerable.
Eclipse was unusually quiet, even for him.
The occasional grunts and grumbles you'd grown accustomed to hearing from him were notably absent as the two of you walked along, stopping every few feet to admire the flowers and shrubs that Greene had painstakingly cultivated to give color and life to the otherwise dreary Manhattan skyline.
You wondered if something was on his mind. It wasn't like him to be so... silent.
But you didn't want to pester him. Whatever it was, he'd tell you if it concerned you, and if it didn't concern you, you'd only annoy him by asking.
So you continued along, admiring the lovely foliage until you reached the very edge of the garden. You were about to turn back when you spotted a lovely little nook tucked into one corner of the lush space; a stone bench surrounded by pretty pink peonies and shrouded by an overhanging angel's trumpet. It looked like the perfect place to sit and enjoy the balmy summer morning before the day became too hot to be outside.
You took a seat, leaving room for your companion to join you, though you didn't expect him to. He always seemed on edge, ready to act at a moment's notice and never one to let his guard down.
Perhaps that was why you were so surprised when he settled right down beside you without any hesitation. You turned your gaze up to him to find him struggling to fit comfortably beneath the tree without causing damage to the delicate trumpet-shaped blooms that dangled in his face. Even then, there was no grunt of irritation as he batted vainly at flowers that would not leave him be.
Okay, something was definitely strange.
“Eclipse, is...” You hesitated, especially as his optics snapped to you at being addressed so suddenly when your morning had been otherwise wordless. “...is everything alright?”
“What? Yes. Why?”
“It's nothing. You just... you're so quiet right now. I guess I'm just not used to you being so quiet.” You looked up at him and shifted a bit nervously, gripping the edge of the stone bench in concern that you were about to annoy him by prying. “I-I just want to make sure nothing's wrong. If there's anything going on, you know, I'm here. You can talk about it if you want. Whatever it is, I'm here for you.”
“I know that, mouse.” He replied, his usual rumble coming out unbearably soft.
It sent a shiver through you despite the warmth of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead. The expression on his face was equally warm as he eyed you silently for a few seconds longer. When his eyes left you, you heaved a small breath of relief that you hadn't upset him. Everything had been going so well lately, or at least it seemed that way.
You were glad you hadn't ruined it by asking after his well-being.
“I like that you're here.” He spoke again after a few more seconds of silence, his voice even softer than before. “Not just that you're here for me, I mean. I like that you're here with me too.”
Oh.
Was that why he hadn't been grumping and grousing at all? Because he liked that you were there with him? Was he actually... happy for your company?
Your inner ponderings were answered without you needing to vocalize them when you felt his hand encapsulate your own. The large appendage clutched yours delicately, thumb brushing across your knuckles with such tenderness, it almost felt unlike him.
He'd never been quite that gentle with you before.
He stared stubbornly forward, refusing to look at you despite how he held your hand in his own. You couldn't help the smile that broke onto your face then, not just at the sweet caresses he was imparting on you, but at his seeming determination not to acknowledge them.
You let out a small sigh and leaned your head against his arm, slipping your hand more securely into his so that your fingers laced with his own, squeezing tightly.
“That's good.” You muttered after a while. “I like that I'm here with you too.”
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Hey!!!
Are you like me and suddenly feel like youre the most annoying person and you have no skills and everyone hates you?
Try…
GOING TO BED! YOure sleepy and your sleepy brain is an ass hole! Good night!
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Chapter 24: A Virus
With Monty cared for, you have time to seek an outside opinion on whats going down at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza Plex. But while you're away, something goes on inside.
Word Count: Approximately 3,530
CW: Vomiting, major character death, violence
Current Chapter | Start From The Beginning | Supplementary Story
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I made some fucking sick ass stew and I'm gonna teach you how
Ingredients:
Carrots, like 4 or 5 medium carrots cut into thin discs
Cellery, three leaves??? cut fine
Mushrooms, like 4 or 5 cut fine
green onion, three or four cut fine
Potatoes, like 6 small ones, cut small
black beans, one can rinsed
corn, one can not rinsed or trained
green beans, one can drained
Tomatoes, caned crushed
three cans of water (use one of the cans from your vegetables)
so much fucking pepper
Vegetable bouillion base powder
Badia Complete Seasoning, like a teaspoon to table spoon depending on vibes
Combine it all in a single big pot on medium heat until the carrots and potatoes are soft and cooked through and boom. Stew.
basically everything is eyeballed and vegetables are based on what i like. i hate peas so i never include peas. fuck peas.
this is vegetarian
because I am vegetarian
i do not know how to cook meat
figure that shit out yourself
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please leave the light on when you go
quick character/canon study of Sun and his possible reaction to the daycare remaining closed for some time
Sun centric [no y/n] // Wordcount: 1,340
In the very beginning, desolation was a black swan in a lake of possibilities. A fluke of unfavorable variety. Something rare and startling and bitter, it went down the throat like sticky syrup and tasted of things worse to come.
The first occurrence was easiest to swallow. A morning which became afternoon and fell steeply into the night, bereft of children and left empty, an aching stomach that lacked any laughter. No warning was given. No one told him or taught him to expect the isolation.
They offered no reason to anticipate a change so sharp. The schedule wasn’t altered, it did not wipe itself clean. The screens grew static like sand in an hourglass that in itself had frozen still, unchanging, unmoving, the words ultimately becoming meaningless.
The Daycare opened from the inside - lights, music, every toy in its place - a cold body with a still beating heart. Outside the doors, something shifted, a new normal that formed outside his line of sight. Left unaware, he performed as normal and uttered not one complaint. Perhaps they were closed for a holiday. It may be that they simply forgot to let him know. Sun cleaned until ammonia wore away at his fingers and licked at the paint, resolving to prepare a Daycare worth returning to.
The second day was a bigger bite than the first. Harder to swallow. Once again, the lights brightened with morning and the voice of a familiar tune welcomed all. Outside, the sky’s blue became blush, the afternoon yawned beneath his nose. Sun waited at the center, fingers intertwined and wrists locked together at the waist. He dared not look away from the door - he couldn’t bring himself to. Hours came and went, the Daycare closed. But never opened.
The third day week is hardest of all. The jungle gyms shine, the carpets like new, every toy and puzzle and puppet put away and then put away again. Sticks of glue line themselves like a perfect marching band, construction paper sleeps soundly in bins beneath the shadows of shelves and pompoms and pipe cleaners hide away between books. He loses time in the shuffle, making items dance in different formations, fitting pieces of a puzzle together in hopes that the final picture will be something recognizable.
There’s plenty of time to hone his craft. Sun breaks in a new box of crayons and learns to draw flowers, placing importance in every petal. He isn’t good at it. Not the first time, or the fifth, or the hundredth. He grows to hate the act of it, his wires twisting together as pigment breaks across paper. Flowers smell like wax. His warm rays grow nothing but their concept - the very creativity it takes to conceive them. The imagination.
Sun grows to hate that, too.
But hate is a strong word, and he doesn’t hate anything - not really - it’s only the closest thing to sour. This loneliness tastes like warheads. It bites back.
He lacks focus; hours become hollow and days lose their meaning. A month passes, then two, then six. The paint on Sun’s hands all but peels away, faced with abuse at the touch of bleach and shine on the hour every hour. His battery drains, and he forgets to doesn’t have time to sees no priority in charging it. The damage wears on him needlessly. He allows it to consume him, granting it access to the chasm swallowing him piece by piece in frail hopes that it might act as a bridge to the answer.
This solitude no longer weighs on his tongue like it used to. It isn’t cough syrup, sticky and bitter, it’s just a pill. It goes down without a fight because he has none left to him. Its aftertaste washes over him with the fangs of a dull knife, and he runs pliant to the wounds.
Theories and reasons bleed together like whitenoise on a screen. Eventually he runs out of questions to ask and starts pointing fingers. The daycare is closed for maintenance. The daycare is closed for a special event. The daycare is closed because it isn’t - clean enough - organized enough - bright enough - loud enough - fun - happy - exciting - enough - it isn’t enough. Nothing he does is enough.
Eventually he must rest. It isn’t a request, but a demand, a battery that bleeds out as its host stands by watching. It pleads through rusting parts and a slower frame, a cry of WARNING, WARNING, WARNING that barrages his screen until he is blinded and left with no other choice. It is four in the afternoon, the middle of a shift, but he can’t afford to wait another minute.
So he sets the last of his sights on the entrance doors and locks his knees at the joint. It’s only for a moment, he promises aloud. A short nap. A few minutes, maybe an hour at most. Enough to silence his mechanisms so he can go back to tuning them out. He’ll wake to the first creak of wood or sneeze or greeting, surely. He won’t miss it.
The light behind his eyes softens until it’s nothing at all. The whir of inner fans slows to a stop, electricity lapsing into eventual silence.
The music continues without him.
Instinct wakes him when a fly gets inside. It’s a tiny thing with a voice just loud enough to fill the room. Sun catches it by the wing before the remainder of his system boots up properly and disposes of it, cleanly and wordlessly, clear-eyed, and mostly back to his senses once more.
A glance at the clock tells him it’s four in the afternoon.
A second glance tells him the clock has broken.
His systems are fuzzy, the accuracy of his knowledge unknown. It tells him a time, and then another, moving forwards and backwards and standing still. The date is all zeros and awaiting an input. His awareness feel buried beneath electric snow. Nothing that Parts and Services can’t fix, but he hasn’t seen the inside of that room in quite some time, now. He wonders if it still looks the same. He wonders why he always hated their help (and attention) to begin with.
The room greets him with its same familiar sight, but there’s a stillness in the air that is new and cloying. It comes through the vents and stirs against the walls of his chest. An error message flashes across the screen, its wording corroded and illegible. Another appears as he reaches out for the jungle gyms and slides a finger across the metal, coming back with something gray and soft.
But that can’t be right.
He tests another, and then the slide, and then the netting. His hands come back dirty each time. He wipes them on his pants, and then sees it. The dust on his arms. On his wrists. On his shoulders and his head.
There’s no way of knowing how many times it’s been four in the afternoon.
He works long into the night to return the place to its usual spick an’ span. His knee joints creak, his elbows groan, his frame digs sharply into twisted wires and loosening screws. He tries not to think about it.
When he’s finished - The jungle gyms shine, the carpets like new, every toy and puzzle and puppet put away and then put away again - Sun retrieves a piece of paper and a box of crayons, and he draws a flower.
There’s nothing else to do, it seems, and maybe he’s become content with that answer. Losing himself won’t solve anything, and a frown will only upset the kids.
His knees tuck awkwardly beneath the length of this table, smaller than the rest but in perfect view of the entrance. He glances towards the two doors once a minute, and behind him, to the slide, every other minute. Time moves by the length of his pictures. Flowers bloom in piles.
Maybe today, Sun promises himself.
He pulls an extra chair out from the table just in case.
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Hello have you tried rice, honey, and peanut butter together? Delicious
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HIPHIP HOORAY
y et another drawingoffool
b ut
fool.exe
ehegfhej
wweyhuj
(characters from GITM by @venomous-qwille)
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Chapter 24: A Virus
With Monty cared for, you have time to seek an outside opinion on whats going down at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza Plex. But while you're away, something goes on inside.
Word Count: Approximately 3,530
CW: Vomiting, major character death, violence
Current Chapter | Start From The Beginning | Supplementary Story
#ccbagt#fic#fnaf sb fic#fnaf sb fanfic#fnaf sb reader#fnaf sb roxy#fnaf sb monty#fnaf sb bonnie#spoilers but nolans back
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my friend told me i should make the staff bots that live in the locker room and are in love in CCBAGT should cheat on eachother halsjkdfhlasdfasdfh what a goofball
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