#oof its angst

[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?

[fandomsnrambles]

Figured out Wu’s hair at last

Don’t ask me what hes wearing, decided he deserved some casual clothing and thought he’d be the type to wear oversized comfy clothing.

Anyway, his hair is so fluffy….

[kaeyachi]

my recently cynonari obsessed brain: What if Cyno can safely handle 2 ba fragments of Hermanubis as an adult due to being companions/ having prolonged exposure to Tighnari, and Hermanubis recognized that closeness? (Tighnari being a descendant as well)

Cyno handled the 2nd ba fragment a bit too well for my angst-loving brain...

[beaulesbian]

wano spoilers

feeling some kind of emotional about rayleigh and roger flashbacks in wano, with smol shanks and buggy. and later oden and toki and their kids :'(

rayleigh has so much patience for them lmao

just few of my favorite panels:

(their captain is an idiot; a shared sentiment by whoever's captain wears the strawhat, probably)

(this is so cute and sad especially knowing this playfulness and love from roger never reached ace ;-; sorry)

"reminds me of the old days." - i wonder if rayleigh means by this shanks or buggy (or both? im not that far yet, if we know more of their backstories, but they were already very young on the roger's ship, so it would make sense if they found one of them as a baby and basically were raising him together ;-; *cries again*)

no really, these flashbacks said rogerray with kids rights, and rayleigh was the only one with a parenting braincell

and this last thing reminds me how often it's one of the strawhats (cough. zoro) reading luffy the news, mostly about their new bounties

smth smth captain and his first mate

and then this angst.... with the goodbyes, and rayleigh possibly keeping roger's pirate hat after he left.

these flashbacks were so emotional! so good and informative how roger's pirates worked, how oden went with them and their journey to the places we've seen luffy and strawhats travel from beginning of one piece - skypiea and the poneglyph text that oden wrote there for roger. water 7 and meeting young franky!, fishman island and roger and oden hearing that voice but rayleigh not hearing it. that was all so interesting.

it was both so fun and joyful, but also sad and devastating, what it must have been to part in the end, for the rest of the crew (and rayleigh especially.)

[dipplinduo]

Live footage of me re-reading a scene I just finished writing for S&S D, as if I haven't had it planned for weeks

[llumimoon]

quick doodle of regular <3

[thunder-shadow]

me + the tension between me and my four published WIPs

[sualne]

idk if this is a rude question but are you still working on the crocodad au?

not rude! it's on an indefinite hiatus of sort, i still need to finish the overview and i'd really like to at least finish the "luffy get shot" flashback since it's all sketched already. but rn im mostly working on the vamp au.

[mustlovesteve]

I’ve read some excellent one-shots but… Are there any longer Steddie fics where Steve doesn’t tell Eddie about the Russian torture trauma and agrees to be tied up but gets triggered by that?

[paulawithsharks]

last bit of artfight art dump <3

artfight was fun :) im glad i went for it and finally joined this year <3

1- sheela belongs to @larimarine!

2- wyatt belongs to  @romaniangothic

3- weichei belongs to @knightcallie

4- scott belongs to @/_jaszczomb_ on instagram!

[deathfavor]

The fact no one can really help Serpent when she's injured is :( it's very sad to think about. Or at least it's extremely dangerous to do so because of her blood. Her mood always plunges after an incident like that. Not because being injured upsets her, but because it brings back those thoughts of being a monster. Humans don't have dangerous blood. And no matter how much she might improve on that mindset, being hurt to a point of bleeding always a harsh slap in the face. Always the special protective gear or just letting her own body / herself fix the wounds. it's sad

[fangaminghell]

What do Charlotte and Laura think of Suraya? OwO

Do they act as wingmen for her and Saphira?

YES DEFINITELY!!!

Essentially, they both think Suraya is great and are beyond happy that Saphira is letting someone in, let alone actually starting a relationship with them. However, they both give Suraya the " if you hurt our sister, we will destroy your" talk ( Laura is much more polite about it. Charlotte is not). But outside of that they wholeheartedly approve of Suraya! It helps that she's Leo sister lol.

They are definitely wingmen for the two. Charlotte is the more chaotic of the two, totally being obvious in trying to get the two alone together and just getting Saphira so red hgvgvnngjnjdddx.( Charlotte: Welp I gotta go....do something. You to have fun~....but not too much fun. Saphira: Charlotte.) Laura is much more subtle, but still pretty obvious. She likes asking the two to meet up for tea and conveniently having something else to do rendering them alone.

With Saphira specifically, the sisters are pretty much constantly hyping Saphira up to make a move, cause let's be honest, she has no idea what she's doing. Romance hasn't been something on her mind until Suraya came into her life, and she's absolutely stumbling her way through it. I think she underestimates how down bad she is lmao. Laura loved gushing about how romantic they are ( or can be) and has a bouquet of flowers tailored for Saphira when she decides to ask Suraya out properly ( I like to think Suraya was planning to ask her out on the same as Saphira was. Que cute little " you jerk, I was going to ask you out first!" Moment hgvhvgvgvcg.) Charlotte was definitely spying on them on their first date and roped Laura into it hgvhvgvgvcg.

Both Charlotte and Laura actually give Suraya little pointers on how to woe Saphira- her interests, habits, dislikes etc. Suraya is actually just as nervous as Saphira is here so said pointers are very much appreciated! Literally every interaction they have pre-dating would just have Charlotte and Laura in the background giving a thumbs up. To who? Probably both lol. They both need it.

[raksh-writes]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @msmischief101 and @dual-desires thank youuu 🥰🥰

I’ve just finished typing up the first chapter of my VegasPete Sugar Daddy AU so I guess it counts as having the last line, hah. With some extra content here, for context! And because I want to 😂

Vegas’ fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone, thoughts smoothing out into nothingness, the flat surface of a lake with no wind stirring a single wrinkle. Then, the weird little something uncurls a bit further in his chest, an expectant look of two monstrous, hungry eyes burning him from inside out. His fingers move.  

Vegas. 

It’s Vegas.

~Oh, then – lovely meeting you here, Vegas!

~Hope to get to know you better soon ^^

Tagging (with absolutely no pressure involved): @livingbythewords @plushrumpasaurus @oenothera5 @roxannes-love-letters @fleet-off @theflowergirl and anyone who’d like to do it too! ^^

[daedrabait]

Your guy is drawing and writing again let's goooo

[cockringhoratio]

im not gonna lie i expected wendell and wild to be,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, better,,,,,,,

[lonely-night]

sometimes you need to listen to some songs of your native language (mandarin or cantonese) to feel something