#i was smiling like an idiot the entire time

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 / 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request! -> "paige with teammate!reader? it’d be soo cute i think" | you and paige were best friends on and off the court, and after an exhilarating win you spend the time together, relishing in the win (and each other)

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | mention of drinking/partying, slightly suggestive, just idiots who are in love with one another, touchy paige (obvs), slightly oblivious reader, energy drink abuse 🤑, lots of teasing/banter, confession that turns into ... A SWEET KISS DUHHH

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | i hope y'all enjoyed, this may a little too fast-paced but i would totally be down to writing a whole full-fleshed out fic on just this concept cus it's so cute! anyway, enjoy!

"THERE IS NO WAY we're gonna drink right now," Azzi yawned as she leaned back into the hotel bed.

You and Paige exchanged glances before laughing, your expressions both mirroring one another. You were both still high off of the win, you weren't sure how everyone was up right now screaming with excitement. But there was still some exhaustion lingering in Paige's expression ─ of course you didn't blame her, she'd played the entire time.

The whole team was downstairs celebrating right now but the three of you decided to take a short break and go back to Azzi's room to relax. That 'short' break turned into fifteen minutes and then now, it's been almost forty.

"I'm gonna go to bed," Azzi continued.

You groaned dramatically as you rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, Azzi."

Before Paige could join you, Azzi gave you both a pointed look. You realized that there was no way either of you could convince her to come back downstairs so you just sighed. You and Paige glanced at each other again before she gestured to get up and the both of you got up from Azzi's bed.

You got up and made your way to the door while Paige followed behind you. "So, we gonna go back downstairs or..."

"My room?" Paige's eyebrows raised as you gave her a grin and nodded. Paige's hand instinctively found a place on the small of your back as she began leading you to her room.

As she led you to her room, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Sure, you and Paige had been close friends for years, but there was always an underlying tension between you, something unspoken yet very noticable.

Once inside Paige's room, she closed the door behind you with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room.

Paige didn't waste any time, she crashed into the bed with a thud and an exhausted groan as you let out a small laugh. "I'm so sore," she groaned as you joined her on the bed.

She glanced up to meet your gaze with a smile. "How tired are you, from like... one to ten?"

"Maybe like... a six?" You responded as you leaned back on the headboard. "Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure you won't fall asleep, like last time." Paige teased as you rolled your eyes.

"That was one time!" You you protested with a playful swat at Paige's arm. "And I was exhausted from the bus ride, you can't blame me for dozing off."

Paige chuckled as she sat up and scooted closer to you. "Sure, sure. We'll just have to make sure tonight is more exciting than whatever boring movie we were watching last time."

"Yeah well, I don't think I'm falling asleep. I had like, three redbulls." You mention casually as Paige's jaw drops slightly.

"Dude, that's so bad for you." Paige's expression was filled with concern but she couldn't help the amusement in her tone. "Jeez, you're gonna have a heart attack right here, on my bed."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "It's worth it for the win, don't you think?"

Paige chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," you teased, nudging her playfully with your elbow.

Paige's laughter filled the room, warm and infectious. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I do," she admitted with a smile, her eyes softening as she looked at you.

You noticed how her gaze lingered on your features for far longer than any friend would have and you definitely didn't miss the way she wet her lips as she looked away. Your stomach flipped and you felt yourself begin to feel warm, you had no idea why little things like that made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

Was it just the adrenaline from the game, or was there something more?

"Have you showered yet?" Paige asked, seemingly out of nowhere as you laughed at her randomness.

"Yeah, right after the game. Did you?"

Paige sighed as she leaned back into the bed, a yawn escaping her lips. "I did but only my body, I haven't washed my hair. I wanna shower but I also wanna stay here, with you."

"Well you can do both," you replied as Paige's smirk widened. You quickly rolled your eyes as a blush began to appear on your face. "Not like that, I meant you can shower and then I'll just hang out in your room."

"Or you can come in the bathroom with me," Paige got up from the bed. "So we can talk and stuff, just look away when I'm naked."

You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's suggestion, the blush on your cheeks deepening at the thought of being so close to her in such an intimate setting.

"Are you sure about that?" you teased, trying to hide your nerves behind a playful tone.

Paige shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

You chuckled nervously, you couldn't argue with that logic. Your cheeks flush at the memory of the countless times you and Paige had shared changing rooms or gone swimming together.

After years of friendship, there were few boundaries left between you and Paige. Still, the idea of being alone with her in the warm confines of the bathroom sent a rush of nervousness through you.

"Yeah, but this is different," you pointed out, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect.

Paige's smile softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "It's okay, I promise I won't make it weird. We're just two friends hanging out, right?"

"Fine, okay." You sighed as you let Paige pull you into the bathroom. You quickly faced the door as Paige ran the water to the hottest temperature.

As Paige stepped into the shower, you took a seat on the closed toilet lid, trying your best to keep your gaze averted as she began to lather up her hair. You kept your gaze fixed firmly on the door, trying to ignore the tantalizing temptation of stealing a glance at Paige. I mean, if she was in your situation, she definitely wouldn't have hid her ultimate glimpse.

Paige's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present moment. "So, how's your shoulder feeling after the game?"

You blinked, grateful for the distraction. "Oh, it's not too bad," you replied. You had injured your shoulder at practice a couple weeks ago and it didn't hurt too bad anymore, Paige was just being over-protective.

Paige nodded, her movements becoming more relaxed. "That's good. I almost lost my shit when that girl hit your shoulder, I thought she hurt you or something."

You laughed as you shook your head. "I know, I could tell. It got us a foul shot, didn't it?"

Paige chuckled, a hint of relief evident in her voice. "I know, a win's a win. I'm glad it didn't hurt too bad, though. I would've killed her if she got you even more injured,"

You grinned at Paige's protective streak, appreciating the fierce loyalty she had always shown you. "I don't doubt it for a second,"

"Good cus I would've, trust me." Paige joked as she finished up her shower and stepped out, causing you to shut your eyes. Paige laughed as she rolled your eyes at your dramatics.

"Alright, drama queen," Paige teased, reaching for a towel to dry off. "You can open your eyes now."

You both made your way out of the bathroom, you got on the bed with a thud as Paige began to get dressed. You kept your eyes on the phone screen, ignoring Paige's laughter. After she'd gotten dressed, she put on her glasses on got into bed.

You felt the mattress shift as Paige settled in beside you, her warmth radiating against your side. You finally tore your gaze away from your phone screen, unable to resist the urge to sneak a glance at her. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair still slightly damp from the shower, her glasses perched on her nose.

"You played good tonight," Paige spoke as she smiled contently at you. This moment felt really intimate, the dimmed lights and the warmth of being so close to Paige. "And you looked so damn good," her tone was amused but you didn't miss the slightly serious undertone beneath her words.

"Thanks," your voice was soft as you returned her smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at her compliment. "You were amazing out there too but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you."

Paige's smile widened at your words, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. "Well, it wouldn't hurt," she joked as you let out a chuckle. "But seriously, though," she continued, her gaze locking with yours, "you looked incredible tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

Your heart skipped a beat at Paige's words, it was rare for her to be so openly affectionate and genuine, and yet here she was, laying her feelings bare for you to see.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Paige continued. "I'm proud of you, genuinely. Tonight was just kind of like..." she paused, unsure of how to say it. "I don't know, but I just admire you a lot. In more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" Your voice came out quiet and slightly breathless as your heart raced.

Paige laughed nervously. "I don't know, I've always thought you were really pretty. And super funny, you always match my vibe. You took care of me when I was injured and even in my worst moments I never felt like you were against me. I like being around you and like... it's different than with KK or Ice or anyone else on the team, or anyone else I know."

"Am I... uh, making you uncomfortable?" Paige spoke after a pause.

You took a moment to process Paige's words, feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Her confession caught you off guard, but at the same time, it filled you with a sense of ease.

"No, God, no. Not at all," you reassured her quickly, your voice soft, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I'm just... I'm really glad you feel that way. Because I feel the same, you know? Being around you, it's like... it's like being home."

If this was any other moment or any other person, you'd be cringing at that. But that was the honest-to-God truth and the only way you could possibly explain how she makes you feel.

Paige's gaze softened, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. "Really?"

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, really. You're one of the most incredible people I know, Paige. And... I'm just really grateful to have you in my life."

"I've been meaning to tell you that for a while now," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared of how you'd react. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us, especially with the team and all."

"Me too, I don't know when I started liking you like that but when I realized it, I was like 'oh shit'." You joked as you let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige's lips curled into a grin, laughing along with you. "Yeah, 'oh shit' pretty much sums it up,"

There was a moment of silence for a couple seconds as you glanced back at Paige, feeling the weight of the moment. You'd just confessed your feelings for the girl you'd liked since... well, since the moment you'd met her, basically.

"So, what now?" You whispered as you broke the silence, feeling her gaze on you.

Paige's gaze softened as she met your eyes, a tender smile playing at her lips. She took your hand in her lap, pulling you closer. You mirrored her smile as her hand moved up to cup your cheek, you felt your breath hitch as her gaze moved down to your lips.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down as Paige's touch sent a rush of warmth coursing through you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from hers, the intensity of the moment holding you captive.

"We take things one step at a time," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, yet it echoed in the quiet space between you. "And right now, I want to be here with you."

Paige's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her eyes dark with emotion. "Is this okay?

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

Paige leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours as she closed the distance between you. The touch of her lips against yours was soft and careful, it felt like time slowed down. She pulled you even closer as you let her explore your mouth, letting a pleased noise.

You melted into the kiss, feeling a surge of emotion swell within you as Paige's warmth enveloped you in a comforting embrace. It was as if everything you had ever felt for her, every longing and desire, was finally being realized in one single, perfect moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the world around you fading away as you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of excitement coursing through you.

You were too enveloped in the kiss to hear the hotel room open, the only thing either you felt was the weight of one another.

"Oh shit!" KK's voice made you two pull away from each other as quickly as you could, your eyes wide as you caught your breath. Ice quickly followed behind her, looking confused until she took in the scene in front of her.

You and Paige scrambled to compose yourselves, cheeks flushed and hearts racing as you exchanged glances. KK stood in front of the bed, her eyes wide with surprise but her lips curved into a smirk, while Ice stared at the two of you with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"You owe me 50$ dollars," Ice blurted as she looked back at KK, a smile on her face.

"Shit, yeah. I should've listened to you and Aubrey." KK rolled her eyes as you and Paige exchanged confused looks.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, a note of confusion in your voice.

"We made a bet on whether you two would finally admit your feelings for each other tonight," Ice explained, her tone amused. "KK said that you guys would confess to each other later but me and Aubrey could tell, tonight would be the night."

Paige's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her lips forming an 'o' of realization. "Wait, you guys were betting on us?" she exclaimed, annoyance in her tone.

KK chuckled, nodding. "Uh, yeah. It wasn't like you guys hid it very well."

"Paige had the worst case of heart eyes I've ever seen... like ever," Ice added, unable to suppress a smirk. "I mean, it was practically written all over her face every time she looked at you."

Paige's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't suppress a smirk at Ice's teasing. "Can you blame me? Have you seen her?"

Your cheeks flushed as you averted from their gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and flattery at Paige's words. You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at her compliment, even as you tried to conceal your blush.

Ice and KK exchanged amused glances, their smiles widening at the banter between you and Paige. "Well, I think it's safe to say the feeling's mutual," KK remarked with a grin.

You glanced back at Paige, feeling a surge of affection for her as you met her gaze.

"I take either cash or Apple Pay, your choice." Ice glanced at KK as she groaned, taking out her wallet. But your gaze didn't falter from Paige as her hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing it.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #ncaaw #uconn huskies #ncaa wbb #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannon

[buckttommy]

If there would be a tommy begins episode, what would you like to see?

I have waited... my entire life for this moment.

Sorry, I'm about to answer this question in the most Jack way possible. Strap in, I'm about to enter my director era. Okay, let's get to it.

Tommy Begins (Jack's Version)

Opening scene: We see a kid (8yo) playing with Legos on his bedroom floor. His room is very much so a boy's room—there are dinosaurs and dragons and a soccer ball in the corner—but it's very sparse. This family is not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. He's building a car, and beyond his closed bedroom door, you can hear muffled shouting. It's his mom and dad. The boy stops playing with his toys and listens as a door slams downstairs (his mom leaving) and heavy footsteps come up the stairs. He's already scooting backwards when the door opens and his father stands in the doorway. He's visibly drunk, and the camera is angled at Tommy's height so that the man in the doorway looks scary and imposing. (We're really leaning into the visuals here). So his dad looks at him and says, "Tommy, were you eavesdropping?" He wasn't, of course, but it doesn't matter because his dad is already undoing his belt (to beat him, not for anything else!!). Little Tommy continues to scoot backwards as his father comes into the room, and closes the door behind him. Before the door closes and the light from the hallway is shut out, we get a shot of the man's shirt—his father is an auto mechanic and the name Kinard is stitched into his clothing.

Similar to 5x17, where Jonah is introduced as a random little boy before the narrative makes the connection as to who he really is, this is the point where the audience realizes, oh, this isn't just any Tommy, this is our Tommy. And he's about to get his ass beaten.

Oh shit.

And then the 9-1-1 title card appears.

Now, all the begins episodes parallel past with present, so in my head, Tommy is off-work. Buck is moving in that day (this isn't a Buck/Tommy focused episode at all, but Buck is the vehicle for this episode to happen) and Tommy needs to finish going through his stuff to make room for him. He comes across a large box in the back of his closet that's stuffed with all his random keepsakes. He reaches into the box and pulls out a small Rubik's cube on a keychain.

The next scene flashes back to the past. We see Tommy as a teenager, getting into trouble with his idiot friends. They're all high as kites, and one of his friends overdoses on [drug]. He notices—he's the only one that notices, actually—and tells one of his other friends to call 9-1-1. They don't because they're kids, there are drugs involved, and they're stupid, so Tommy calls 9-1-1. He follows the operator's instructions and stays on the line until the paramedics get there. He accompanies his friend to the hospital and someone—a cop who is familiar with him, from having plucked him out of trouble a handful of times—waits with him. He tosses Tommy a Rubik's cube (the same one from the box) so that he can keep his mind occupied. His friend is okay, but the cop is like, "Listen, kid. One day, that's going to be you and one day, it's not going to turn out so well. You've got to straighten up or end up dead." Basically, the whole thing is kind of a wake up call. Before the scene changes, we see Tommy look up and look toward a container of pamphlets on the hospital wall. One of the pamphlets has a soldier on it. In his hand, the Rubik's cube has been completed.

In the present, Tommy continues going through his belongings. This is a dense episode, so we're not going to linger too much on what's happening in the present because it's secondary to what's going on in the past, but Buck and Tommy are texting. Buck is excited and has no idea the turmoil that is going on in his boyfriend's head. Tommy matches his enthusiasm (and it's genuine) but also takes a lot of effort at the moment. Still he smiles a little before he puts the phone down and continues digging through the box. Next, he withdraws his dog tags (and if it isn't obvious by now, the items in the box parallel with the next flashback because these are memories that are actively being triggered while the audience watches).

So, the next scene is obviously back to Tommy's time in the Army. Now, ideally, this would be a ninety-minute episode and I'd have the time to explore all the layers of Tommy's time in the service, but, alas, the boundaries of network television. In my head, most of Tommy's trauma comes from his childhood rather than his time in the Army anyway (which isn't to say it doesn't exist, just that it's not at the forefront of his issues) so we're going to have to gloss over that a bit. When we see him again, he's already in the Army, already well into his career, and the audience can see that he's shaped up and matured quite well. He's well-liked and good at what he does.

He's doing repairs on a helicopter when his CO approaches him and asks where he's going and what he's going to do after he's discharged. Tommy looks across the [hangar] and the camera pans to a a young man. He's in his 20s. Handsome in a boyish way. He's already looking at Tommy, but he looks sad and guilty and hesitant. They meet each others eyes and stare just a bit too long to be casual, and there is a lot of unspoken feeling between the two of them. Their relationship, such as it was during the DADT era, is heavily implied and it does not have a happy ending. Tommy looks back at his CO and says he's headed back home to Los Angeles. As for the rest, he doesn't know what he'll do after he leaves, but he'll figure it out as it comes to him. When he looks up at the guy, he's already gone. It's kind of a metaphor for the way the things he wants always seem to slip away.

In the present, Tommy is still going through his stuff. He unearths an old Academy shirt, so the next scene is his first day at the 118.

Tommy doesn't know it yet, but this is the first day of the rest of his life. Immediately, seeing those walls and doors fills the viewer with a sense of peace. Finally he's where he's supposed to be. He learns on his first day what type of boys club the 118 is under Gerrard. He's visibly uncomfortable (visibly to the viewer, who knows him well enough by now to read his face, but not to the old guard) the first time someone makes a homophobic joke. But he laughs and joins in, aware of but refusing to acknowledge the fact that they are making jokes at his expense. Just like that, he's accepted.

We see him assimilate quickly; the 118 goes on several calls. Not necessarily a montage, but we don't linger on the calls either except for a big fire. He saves Sal DeLuca and is rewarded with lots of accolades and praise. Tommy is one of the "in-crowd" and things are going well. But then Chimney shows up and Hen shows up shortly after. We all know how this plays in canon, so we don't linger too long on the times when Tommy is a dickhead but we do understand, from his perspective, that he has disdain for Hen and Chim—not because he's racist but because their existences threaten to dismantle this bubble of safety he's built around himself at the 118. The goal isn't to make the audience dismiss his complicity, but rather make them understand why he made the choices he made.

Because I am self-indulgent, there is one additional scene right before Tommy leaves for Harbor, where he and Hen are sitting in the locker room. She asks if he's going to miss it. He says he doesn't know, then he pauses and says "Kind of." There are lots of mixed feelings here. He suffocated himself in the closet within these walls and became someone he did not recognize, someone who went along with things rather than fight against the status quo, but he also learned how to breathe and exist a little freely once Gerrard left and Bobby took his place. He got his first taste of what it looks like to be Queer and proud within these walls, and that means something to him.

He looks at Hen and there are so many things he'd like to say to her that he doesn't know how to articulate, mostly because he cannot yet articulate them to himself. He's getting to that point but he's not there yet, so when she asks why he's looking at her like that, he just says "Thank you." "For what?" "For showing me another way." (This, of course, has a double meaning: first, referencing the idea that Hen/Chim showed him another way to be a firefighter, to be a family, to be a human being, and second, referencing the fact that Hen showed him another way to be Queer—showed him that Queerness doesn't have to be filled with self-hatred and pain. It can just... be... and people can either accept it, or they don't). Hen gets the sense that there's a lot he's not saying, a lot under the surface that she's not privy to, but she says "You're welcome."

The next scene is Tommy at Harbor, and the moment he gets there, the viewer can see a weight slip off his shoulders. He's back where he belongs—back with the mechanics, back with the big toys that make him feel at ease. It's a direct parallel to Buck's first meeting with the 118 (not for any Buck/Tommy purposes, just because I love a good narrative parallel) where Bobby pranks him. But Tommy smiles when they bust his balls, and settles into himself, and the viewer can see that he's okay. Things might not be perfect—he might not be perfect—but he's on the right track to being the person the audience will know and love in a few short seasons.

Back in the present, Tommy is pulled out of his walk down memory lane by the sound of his front door opening. Buck is standing on the other side with an overly large box in his hands. Tommy helps him carry it in, and offers to get the rest of his stuff from the Jeep, but Buck waves him off. He studies his face for a long moment, and asks if Tommy is alright. Tommy opens his mouth to answer and discovers, almost shockingly, that he is. He is alright. Maybe he wasn't a couple minutes ago. Maybe those items from the past dredged up memories that were best left forgotten. But he's here now, in this moment with his boyfriend, and he's fine. He's survived a lot. He's grown a lot. He's happy. So he smiles and he says yes, yes he's alright, and he kisses Buck, who also smiles, deeply. The doors close, implying sexytimes and Tommy closing the door on all the chapters of his life that have led him to this place, where he's now ready to embrace and walk into his future.

aaaaand SCENE :) the end.

#I had WAY too much fun with this #Oh my god. #TIM GET ME IN THE WRITING ROOM QUICK!!!!!!!!!! #tommy kinard #tv: 911 #bucktommy #(but only slightly)

[maybege]

What If - Part 3

Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love

Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.

There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.

The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.

But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.

Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.

For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.

“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”

You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.

“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”

Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”

He shook his head fervently.

“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”

“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.

True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.

“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.

“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.

“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”

You hummed in acknowledgement.

“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”

He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.

“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.

“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”

He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.

“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”

That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”

“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”

The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”

Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”

Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.

“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”

“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“

“Who do we have here?”

“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.

“You are – He is – What –“

“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”

You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.

Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.

The thought made you feel strangely queasy.

“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”

“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.

“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.

“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.

“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”

“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”

“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”

“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”

“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.

“Did you sleep well?”

You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”

His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”

“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”

Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.

“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”

“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”

*

The ship offered no privacy.

While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.

This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.

The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.

“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.

Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.

You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.

Your alpha.

You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.

You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.

Fuck, you were needy for him.

“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”

You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.

“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.

He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”

“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.

And you did not want to have it any other way.

You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”

“Wh-What?”

“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”

“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.

“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.

“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”

Of course, you did. And he knew it.

With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.

You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.

As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.

And worry about other things.

“What if someone sees?”

“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”

Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.

Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.

Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”

You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.

Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.

Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.

“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”

His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.

With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.

It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.

You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.

“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”

Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.

You wanted this man to be your alpha.

Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.

“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”

“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”

“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”

He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.

“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”

Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.

“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.

He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”

“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”

“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”

*

You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.

“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”

You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.

As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.

It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.

But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.

The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.

You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.

Briggs called them idiots.

But Paz was not an idiot.

Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.

And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.

“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”

You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.

“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”

You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”

“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”

You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?

With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.

The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.

“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.

You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.

“You know you cannot intervene.”

“Chants –“

“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.

A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.

However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.

Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.

It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.

You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.

But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.

“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”

Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.

“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.

“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”

That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”

“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”

“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”

“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.

“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”

“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

[em-harlsnow]

part 2 of my tattoo speed write, find part 1 here.

Tattoo date!!

so mickey goes in to get his tattoo with ian. he’s been for a consultation already because believe it or not he doesn’t want someone to do a shoddy job of it.

he’s drawn a cross between a serpent and dragon and shown the person doing it what size he wants and where he wants it.

ian asked him to draw his ‘MM’ tattoo as well so it’s sort of cursive, or at least has some swirly patterns ingrained into it because he doesn’t just want it printed on.

the guy doing it is just covered in tattoos and piercings. mickey thinks they look sort of cool, but the piercings look way too painful for him to ever consider it. the guy sits him down in the chair and starts running through the process, even if they already talked about it in the consultation. Ian’s sitting on a chair next to him, out of the way of the tattoo artist.

“I can see you’ve already got some ink, but i still have to go through everything.” Mickey nods. “So what you want is big, so it’ll take a couple of hours. Just a reminder: it is permanent. It’s not gonna rub out or wash off.” Mickey snorts, looking down at his knuckles and the guy laughs. “Yeah, i know you know that. I’ll draw it out first so you can confirm it’s what you want. But when we actually start just let me know any time you want to take a break. It’s also common for people to faint, so let me know if you feel lightheaded.”

He makes Mickey sign some stuff which he hardly reads because he understands that a tattoo is permanent thank you very much, and he is also familiar with the healing process and the pain.

So the guy starts to draw it out and that only takes like twenty minutes, during which him and ian just have a conversation about the next gallagher family thing. Then the guy asks Mickey to check if it’s okay, and Mickey’s pleased with it.

The tattoo artist (I’ve decided his name is Zyler) leaves the room to get the ink and prepare the needles.

“are u nervous?” Ian asks him, to which mickey rolls his eyes fondly.

“no, copper cock, i’m not nervous.” Except he is a little bit because tattoos still hurt and he’s never gotten one with this much fucking preparation before.

Ian just smiles at him and grabs his hand (on the side not getting tattooed) and mickey sighs but allows him to think he’s helping (which he definitely is)

Zyler returns and starts and yep, that fucking hurts. It’s not too bad after a while, and it’s the shoulder so it’s not close to the bone. he may have been drunk and it may have been a while ago but his knuckles hurt more by miles.

Zyler talks to them, asking about how long they’ve been married. ian answers most of the questions because Mickey’s not one to chit chat with strangers when he’s not being stabbed over and over by said stranger, never mind when he is.

Around half way through, Zyler says they’ll take a 30 minute break, because they’ve been there for like an hour already.

Ian reaches over to see how it is, and Mickey yells out.

“don’t touch it, idiot!”

“I’m not going to touch it, Mick, just let me have a look.”

Mickey twists to show him the progress and Ian smiles, telling him something like ‘looks good’.

Zyler talks to Mickey some more, asking about his current tattoos. Obviously, he’s had to take his shirt off for the procedure because even with sleeveless shirts it’s just easier to take it off entirely. Mickey tells him how he got his knuckles when he was like 14, to which Zyler looks surprised but not entirely shocked. Mickey explains how he designed the one on his forearm and got some unlicensed guy in Mexico to do it for him. He explains how he gave the ‘Ian Galager’ one to himself in prison, but doesn’t elaborate.

Zyler states that the nature of his previous tattoos makes sense considering his clearly high pain tolerance.

“I mean, i’ve been shot twice, so that probably has something to do with it as well.” Mickey laughs.

Zyler looks surprised again, because he may run a tattoo studio so he meets a lot of characters, but this is a lot.

“You’ve been shot twice?”

“Yup - all of ‘em his fault.” Mickey jabs a finger at Ian, which he snorts at.

“They aren’t my fault, they’re your fault. I was just in the vicinity.”

“In the vicinity my ass, Gallagher. Your fault.”

“You were the one who got too cocky and showed off to Kash, then got too cocky again and tried to steal a fuckin’ Grandfather clock, Mick. None of that was my fault.” Ian’s laughing and Zyler laughs too, although he looks somewhat puzzled. “Also - I was the one who got someone to patch up your ass the last time you got shot.”

“Yeah, i’m so fuckin’ grateful for your kitchen table and a grandpa with a pair of pliers”

“Better than your kitchen table with all the guns and knives on it and two dirty fuckin’ forks held by your high brothers.”

Mickey just does a little eye roll, and Zyler looks all the more intrigued as he cleans the equipment to continue.

“You got shot in the ass?” Is the bit he focuses on, too interested to maintain professionalism.

“Yup. All because of him.” Ian just rolls his eyes.

“The first one was in the leg, and both were because of your stealing habits.”

“Stealing habits- I don’t? I don’t have fuckin’ stealing habits, Gallagher. You’re making be sound like a klepto.”

Ian just rolls his eyes and smiles, squeezing his hand has Zyler starts up again.

“So… how long have you been together?” He asks, because all this lore he’s learning doesn’t sound like people who’ve been married for just two years.

“Better part of eleven years.” Ian answers.

“Jesus- how old are you two?”

“I’m 26. So, I was 15 when we first got together and he was 16.”

“Wow, real high school sweethearts.”

Mickey scoffs at the term.

“Yeah, I mean. We went to the same school so technically we’ve known each other since like elementary.”

Zyler raises his eyebrows again.

“But he looked like a dork in elementary so i didn’t go near him.” Mickey adds, voice somewhat strained.

Ian slaps his arm lightly.

When they’re finished, him and ian switch positions. Mickey’s shirt is back on, but he now has a plastic plaster-thing over the new ink. He keeps looking at it, almost touching it, and Ian slaps his hand away in warning not to.

Ian doesn’t even have to ask for Mickey to hold his hand during his tattoo, because he just does it anyway.

“Any meaning behind this one?” Zyler asks as he draws out the patterned ‘MM’ on his wrist.

“His initials.” Ian gestures towards Mickey with his head. “Mikhailo Milkovich.” And Mickey chides him for saying his full name because that wasn’t necessary, Gallagher. “He drew it, too.”

“That’s sweet.” Zyler tells them. “Usually I feel like people who get each others names tattooed aren’t gonna last, but I gotta say I think you guys might be the exception.” Ian beams and Mickey grumbles around a smile.

Ian squeezes Mickey’s hand tight throughout the whole thing, much the same as how Mickey had. He gets a matching plastic wrap and they both get some care-gel thing they need to put on each night as well as a reminder to put more sunscreen on areas with ink.

Ian waves a friendly goodbye to Zyler, and Zyler has a great story to tell his coworker Sasha, who he’s been hoping to ask out soon, when she gets back from her sister’s wedding.

#shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #gallavich fic #shameless fanfiction

[xmissrogersx]

“Because it’s pink” | Joel Miller

tags: Post-Outbreak. Fluff. Domesticy.

a note from me: yes, again i inspire myself in gilmore girls. Every time i see Lorelai and Luke is like “i need to write this like is in Jackson right now”

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

pris masterlist

-¡Paris! —I woke up with a start and turned my head in shock to see Ellie at the door.

-Hi, hey...

-What are you doing?

-Having a heart attack —I leaned back on my pillow.

-I'm going to be late for the presentation, ¡it's 7:15!

-No, it's 5:45...

-¡Paris, it's 7:15!

-No, Ellie for God's sake, I set the alarm clock to go off... —she took my watch from the bedside table showing me the time.-It's 7:15, I don't understand how it didn't ring, I swear I set it....

-7:16 —she said behind me.

-I had to take some sheets to Maria, I was going to get my clothes ready to go to your presentation and now I have to iron them and...

-7:17...

-You know what, time lady, why don't you go make some coffee and buy some time? —she came down the stairs, while I was trying to find my boots and fix my hair a little.

-Notes, decorating for the stage, looking for music...

-¡7:18! —she shouted from the dining room.

-¡Oh for the love of God! —I finished getting dressed.-It’s the last time i accept something just because it's pink.

Ellie was in the kitchen with what to carry for the recital under her arms. I grabbed my cup of coffee and drank some. I was going to pour it into my little thermos, but it was nowhere to be found.

-Shit, Joel's taking it to work —I remembered, smacking my forehead.-Never mind, I'll ask Maria. Okay, ready? —we ran to the door.

───────────────────────

-It’s done.

Joel along with other Jackson men were finishing building the library.

-Big brother —Tommy exclaimed when he saw him.-I didn't remember you being such an early riser.

-It has to be finished, doesn't it?

-Sure, you must have a very important reason for wanting to finish quickly —laughed the dark-haired man as he saw Joel's familiar scowl.-Really, it's good to see you happy again.

-She loves to read, it's the least I can do.

-Really? From what you showed me you have in your pocket, that's not all you want to do —he smiled, to which the elder Miller sighed.

-What if she really doesn't want to? What if she ends up realizing she missed an opportunity to be with someone her own age?

-Is this the same woman we're talking about? She went up against a bunch of crazies to get you penicillin and save your life. She crossed the country from one end to the other dealing with your sour ass, and yet she looks at you with an adoration I've never seen before.

Joel smiled softly as he remembered how he left this morning and seeing her sleeping peacefully with one of his shirts covering her breasts and torso. He had to restrain himself from waking her up and ripping it off himself.

-What the...?

His brother snapped him out of his trance as he saw the two people who occupied his entire world speeding across the street.

-¡Paris, the violet leaves! —Ellie exclaimed as she watched them slip.

-Shit! —said the blonde to duck, trying to keep the other things she was carrying from slipping.

-She's a little nervous, isn't she?

-Lately a little bit, in the last few days. The other night we were watching a movie and she was a little dizzy, and she said it must have been dinner. I can't stand to see her like that.

-Dizzy? You mean with dizziness and vomiting?

-A little, maybe, why?

Tommy was still shocked that his idiot brother didn't realize what was happening.

-What?

-You need to talk to her, now. Go, I'm still here —he practically pushed him out of there.

───────────────────────

-We're here! I'm really sorry I'm late... —I said, putting my things on the tables.-My alarm didn't go off.

-Everything is under control, since I know you are a perfectionist beforehand and I don't want you to stress yourself, especially at this moment —I stopped in my tracks because of the last thing she said.

-Why did you say that?

Maria turned to me and took my hand.

-Paris, I realized it two weeks ago, but I wanted you to confirm it for me.

I looked at her with tears in my eyes still unable to articulate a single word.

-So, how long exactly?

-I couldn't tell you an exact date...

-Of course, it's true, there's no way you could be in the same room for 5 minutes without jumping on each other —I covered my mouth to contain my astonishment and lightly hit her arm.

-¡Maria!

-Please, girl, next time for the love of the children here, close the blessed bedroom windows.

Our laughter flooded the place, plus my face was about to explode in the full range of red colors. I was thankful Ellie wasn't near us and had heard.

-Darlin'.

-Hi, cowboy —he put his hand on my waist to bring our lips together. Shit, and it had only been 3 hours since we'd seen each other and I was already missing being in his arms.

-Are you okay, don't you feel sick? —he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

-Why do you ask? —I saw how he looked at me with fearful eyes. I took his face and looked into his beautiful brown eyes.-Babe, I'm fine, what's wrong?

-The last few days you've been nauseous, and I know it's not your stomach because we both know you and Ellie have it made of iron, baby.

I sighed, pulling the air out of my lungs, releasing some of the pressure I was feeling, as if I needed to finally say the sentence stuck in my chest.

-I'm pregnant.

#pedro fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #ellie #joel x pregnant reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel fluff #joel smut #joel fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x plus size reader #because it’s pink #joel and ellie #joel miller x original character #pedro x plus size reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

[11rosecat]

When you first meet them (SHISHITOREN)

Tomiyama Choji

Togame had to hold him back from making you feel even more uncomfortable by his spontaneous, pocket of joy, personality.

You had bumped into the short beige-haired man-child in the section of the cold refrigerated isle of drinks, without thinking of your surroundings you had picked up the last milk tea bottled drink and didn't notice the sounds of hurried footsteps rushing to where you stood.

Your head turned to the side to be face to face with a small boy around your age blinking at you weirdly. And he wasn't the one that thought his staring was weird, it was you who thought that. Awkwardly, you began walking away but he continued to stare at you, regardless if you kept trying to avoid his eye contact.

Shortly after, a tall black-haired man walked past you as if he was in a hurry, he wore the same uniform as the shorter guy.

"There you are, jeez. Quit running off like that you're gonna make me have back problems..." A strong deep voice lingered past your ears as you walked away further, then suddenly, a loud boast of a higher but boyish voice belted out.

"Look, you made me lose the last drink of the milk tea!" Your nose twitched naturally, and eventually, your pace came to halt causing the two boys to peak their heads up at you. From there, you saw that the shorter one of the two had been pointing at your figure but was slapped away the second you turned your back to them by the much taller male out of respect.

Shyly, you spoke up, "Do you want the drink then?" You asked, you didn't mind giving it away, there were other drinks you could choose from.

Moments after, the unknown boy around your height jogged up to you as you held out the drink for him which he gladly took, "Thanks a lot kind lady!" His mouth turned into a smile which shifted his entire face. You could tell it was his most prominent feature.

"It's alright," You said softly brushing it off. He then hummed causing you to grow confused. The black-haired man began walking up to the two of you as the boy in front of you continued speaking.

"...Since you gave me this, I'll buy you a drink so it's 50/50!" Taken a back, your eyes widened slightly as an unsure flat smile appeared on your face, even though the atmosphere around you was more than calm, it was starting to rise with his expressive personality.

"I- okay," But before you knew it, the pressure of your right arm grew shallow when you had realized he now began dragging you all over the store making black-haired boy panic for your safety.

Once you finally choose a random drink the two strange boys encouraged you to take so he could pay, the three of you left the convince store.

"Thank you for the drink," You smiled softly looking at the beige-haired male who had already eagerly untwisted the milk tea bottle drink while the taller male drank his ramune drink.

"No problem, would you like to join me and Togame now?"

"Eurghk—?!" Your voice choked being surprised at how open and extroverted, not even having any shame when asking you out for the first time. From the sides, the two of you heard a snorting sound causing your heads to now place your attention on the tall male.

"That's not very polite y'know," He started off as he took another sip from his drink, "Asking out a girl without even getting to know her name? You should know better than that, Choji," He teased.

The beige-haired boy blinked, "Ohh, you're right!" His head turned towards you, "My name is Tomiyama Choji, and you are?"

The two boys noticed how you paused, assuming you were either in shock or still processing what was going on. After a few seconds, you finally replied.

"My name is [Full Name]."

Jo Togame

"I'm so sorry, please forgive my three idiot friends," The man before you had multiple veins all over his head with a strained smile while holding each of them by the backs of their clothing, making them raise in the air like two cats that had just been separated from fighting each other.

Earlier, you went to go out to buy an exclusive ingredient that was found in the Shishitoren area. The place was notorious for being a place of delinquents that trash and vandalize everything. Your journey there was making you almost regret going out of Kotoha as a favour to get the poor girl some groceries.

Stepping in there, you felt like a cat in a lions den, multiple stores were graffitied, as well as many of the townsfolk had hardcore personas.

As you were walking down the street clutching on your side back to quickly pull out your keys if anyone came to threaten you, what you weren't expecting was a group of three guys jumping out of no where scaring the living shit out of your soul, you let out a blood curdling scream as you fell to the floor shakily.

"O-oh, crap! Was our approach maybe to intense?" A boy with one side of his head shaved while his wavy hair fell to the side suddenly spoke out, looking back at his friend who was urgently biting his nails. His hair was set in a man bun. From the side of them stood another boy about the same age with beige-hair.

"I-I don't know...." The nervous guy said.

"Pfshh, everything is fine! We're Shishitoren now, we now help those who are in need just like Bofurin!" You heart began to pound, if these boys said they were trying to help you, why in the world did you feel like you were just getting jumped.

Without even getting to protest, the shortest out of the three lifted you up as you stared back at him flabbergasted on what just happened to you, "We are students from Shishitoren and we will protect you!"

You stood still on spot, trying to even process what was happening, you came to understand why Kotoha willingly sent you off to their territory with no remorse. Was this what she meant by saying their base was no longer a threat towards anyone?

You looked at each of them one by one, one of them stared at you trying his best to seem less scary, the one beside him was biting his nails obviously scared of who knows what, and finally, the one that had helped you up was staring back at you as if he was a puppy trying to get you to play fetch with him. Your brain was going to explode in any second now.

Suddenly, loud footsteps of wooden sandals hitting the floor marched their way over to the scene, and before you knew it, the wavy-haired man and the nervous boy were received a punch on their heads before he roughly picked up the two by the back of their shirts making the one in the middle widen his eyes. Even though he didn't look back, it seemed like he could already tell who approached them.

Your eyes lingered behind the boy before you and then you had made eye contact with an extremely tall male, with short black-hair, and downturns eyes with a faux sympathy atmosphere surrounding him.

"I'm so sorry, please forgive my three idiot friends."

Afterwards, you witnessed the man scolding the three of them in the middle of the street.

"Just because we changed our ways doesn't mean everyone will automatically view us differently!" He yelled in the street without much care.

Once he was done scolding and even threading them all, the shortest of the two lead them in defeat to go back to their turf. The boy then sighed with his back facing you until he realized you were watching the whole thing.

From there, he was now face to face with you. His hair was cut into a low taper, his eyes were downturn, as for his outfit resembled a bit of a more up to date monk outfit based on his traditional wooden sandals and airy baggy pants.

"Ah, I apologize again if any of us had startled you, we were currently patrolling the town to help people, turns out the first day was a total blow..."

You laughed at his sarcasm, "...It's okay, I was just a bit confused, I didn't know Shishitoren had changed," This time he laughed.

"Well, it's been a long time since, now May I ask what a person from Bofurin is doing here?"

"Ah, just passing by to get some groceries in a near by shop," He then hummed, before checking his watch and then where the sun set before looking back at you.

"I suppose I could guide you for the time being," He smiled while turning his body sideways, indicating you to walk beside him.

#windbreakerxreader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #windbreaker #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura x reader #hayato suo #taiga tsugeura #mitsuki kiryu #jo togame #tomiyama choji #jo togame x reader #tomiyama choji x reader

[miss-celestia13]

An Arsonist’s Anguish

Richy’s Lament - A Duskwood One Shot

A dark, angsty exploration into Richy’s character as he sets the stage for his death. There is no happy ending. Just some hope that another soul made it out of the mine as it burns. Crossposted posted on Ao3.

Trigger Warnings are below the line. Please check them.

TW: Suicide, Self Hatred, Hallucinations, and thoughts/descriptions of Death. Read at your own risk. I tried not to be too graphic, but you will know what’s happening.

Richy would never see the sun rise again.

The ghosts of all the beautiful things he killed to protect his secrets haunted his dragging, stumbling steps as he traversed the mine and ignored the cameras he installed. Gasoline poured and splashed from the canister he held as he wove through tunnels and gritted his teeth against the pain in his arm.

It was nothing compared to the emotional torture he felt inside. His thoughts were a tempest raging with the violence of a cyclone. Every destructive gust ripped through the fragile edifices of his grip on reality.

Within the labyrinth of his mind, self-loathing chewed on his soul like a pack of feral beasts tearing at the tender flesh of their fallen prey. Each bite drew forth burgundy rivers of desolation, self-condemnation, and unyielding fury. Blending with the physical aches until he couldn’t tell them apart

His arm throbbed as he ignored the yelling in his mind. Fucking Dan. Dan, who gave him a gun?! Oh, what an idiot! He scuppered all Richy’s plans and left him scrambling to end it before anyone else got hurt. Ensure nothing remains but ash.

Rivers of cold sweat streamed down his grey face as he held his injured arm over his stomach so he wouldn’t bang it into the rough wall. He wanted to punch the stone to take his mind off it. The bottle of pain meds he stole from his mother rattled in his pocket, but he couldn’t risk taking them yet.

His breathing roasted his throat, but his entire body shivered as though an icy glacier engulfed him. The persistent tremble in his body intensified with every labored step.

The combined weight of his physical and emotional agony was an anchor on his back, dragging his broken spirit beneath tumultuous waves, where the agony of drowning and being hammered from all sides echoed through the depths of himself.

It didn’t feel like any of it was unfair. The thirst was the worst thing. He kept smacking his lips together, attempting to inspire some moisture, but his tongue remained bone dry and coated in the remnants of bitter blood rust.

The blood he’d lost stained his skin and the stone as it dripped through the filthy dressing he tried and failed to use as a tourniquet. Everything felt like it happened to someone else. Something otherworldly piloted his body from the inside.

Like some demon possessed him, guiding him down depraved, treacherous paths, and the priest hadn’t arrived in time to exorcise him.

And he’d done it to himself. Every choice he’d made since kidnapping Hannah, it had felt like suicide in slow motion.

He marooned himself on an island surrounded by vipers of his own creation.

Now, the only option to set himself free was fire. It would hurt, he thought, and his stomach wrenched to the side, almost splitting in two as he dreaded it so strongly.

And death. There was a liberating freedom in death. A broken sob tore through his clenched teeth as he thought of Jessy, the emotions he harbored for her, and everything he had never deserved to have with her.

She was a shot of adrenaline after years of lethargy.

So many of his favorite memories revolved around her and their silly inside jokes. He’d used his closeness to her to torment and stalk her. Terrorized her and her friends. She would never forgive him. Her smiling face, her flaming hair, and desire for a life of adventure had made his miserable existence worth living.

She would forget him one day, but never forgive him. He was a coward. An idiot. He’d let them all believe a masked myth was chasing them.

The only masked freak after them was their own friend.

His megawatt smile, stupid jokes, and constant upbeat attitude despite the shitstorm life rained on him had been the heaviest disguise of his brief life. They’d all bought it.

Hook, line, and fucking sinker. None thought to check beneath that smile. Now, it had twisted and transformed into a permanent snarl. If they paid attention, they would have found the rot and ruin underneath his cheerful demeanor. None of his friends had stopped to think about just how stressed he was. How much he had to carry for his family and Hannah—screw her. She was party to his worst decision.

She caused it.

Her wanting to sacrifice herself, him, and Amy to clear her conscience, betrayal. Betrayal was a dagger Hannah concealed in a cloak of mutual trust and unspoken promises to take their secrets to the grave. That blade had appeared suddenly and without warning, piercing the walls of his shriveled heart.

Half of him wished he’d killed her while he’d had her under his control. End the threat, leave her body to decompose in the mine.

No one came here. He’d made sure of it. Everything might—well, it was too late now. She was safe in the hands of Alan Bloomgate. Hannah, perfect, beautiful fucking Hannah.

He hated her. He blamed Hannah. But it was Amy who he blamed the most. Richy blamed everyone but himself for too long. He knew that. And now he would pay the price for it.

He’d already staged his death. Now he just had to commit.

The cloying scent of gasoline infiltrated his nose, thickening in his raw throat, and the empty metal cannister fell from his weak fingers. The thunderous clanging as it bounced and came to a stop worsened the headache he’d had for the last few weeks.

It pounded in time with his thudding heart. Each pulse pushed yet more blood out of the wound in his heavy, aching arm. It tingled and sparked with fiery pain with every paranoid twitch as he glanced behind him, sure he heard footsteps chasing him down.

He gave himself a shake when only his shadow approached. It looked much bigger to him now. Sinister and spreading to encompass the entirety of him.

It had taken him over long ago, and at last, he accepted it. It was too late to beat it back. He’d embraced it. Its hug was gelid and dragged him down, down, down. The shadow had always been in him; his choices had brought it to life, and it was time to eliminate it so it wouldn’t harm anyone else.

If his last victim was to be himself, it would end on his terms.

His last words had been a confession and an apology. To Jessy, and his friends, to the unwitting stranger he’d dragged into this mess, and to himself. His conscience was far from clear, and his reckoning awaited him amongst the flames he would soon ignite.

The cave in which he’d chosen as his tomb would remain safe from the flames, but the poison smoke would choke him. An intangible noose, as he couldn’t bring himself to tie a rope. He shuffled inside and loosed a long breath that felt more like a death rattle.

His stinging eyes couldn’t penetrate the blackness encroaching him on all sides as he reached into his jacket pocket with his good hand, and pulled out the zippo lighter he’d stuffed inside days before. He’d always suspected.

Deep inside, Richy had expected that this was how it ended. The cold silver metal warmed a little in his clammy hand as his thumb stroked over the Garage’s logo and wished he had said goodbye to his parents before he gave himself to the fire.

It was best they learned with the world. His suicide letter would speak for him and he prayed it would ensure his family didn’t suffer for his actions.

Naïveté had always been his downfall.

Before he set his ultimate act into motion, Richy took his phone out of his jean pocket and flicked the flashlight on. The bright beam of white light assaulted his eyes and created a flurry of moving shadows. The skittering of tiny claws on loose stone racing away from him painted a cruel smirk on his mouth as he cast the light around the small cavern and found what he was looking for.

A grubby black backpack sat against the grey rock wall, covered in dirt, blood, and guilt as he scuttled over to it. He unzipped it and pulled out the almost empty bottle of water he’d been rationing for days.

After fishing the bottle of medication out of his pocket, he struggled to open them both, and cried out as his jerky movements irritated his wounded arm. It took five very long minutes to get the pills out. The light from his phone shuddered as he set it down to count the pills.

He’d chosen the strongest ones his mother had. One knocked her out for half a day, and he wanted to numb himself as much as he could before the smoke smothered or flames devoured him. They were heavy on his tongue as he tossed back a fistful of the chalky tablets and chased them down with the last of his precious water.

For a moment, they got lodged in his throat, his mouth flooded with saliva and his eyes prickled with fresh tears.

He couldn’t even kill himself right. Everything he did just failed in spectacular fashion.

He was a monster of his own making, and only he could slay it. He swallowed, compulsive and dry, ignoring the hot flashes creeping up his neck as the painkillers scraped down his throat and into his hollow stomach.

Richy dropped to his knees and crawled over to the wall, and slumped back onto it. Paper crinkled in his inside coat pocket as he shifted to get comfortable. He had about an hour before the full effects of the medication set in. He would light the fire once the gnawing, eroding ache in his chest and arm dulled.

Until then, he sat with his thoughts, his splintering sanity, and cursed himself. Cursed Duskwood and the predator the town had forced him to transfigure himself into.

The weight of hopelessness hung around Richy’s neck like a noose pulled tight, squeezing the light of life from his eyes.

It was a suffocating darkness that swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but the biting tang of despair on his tongue. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of broken glass, cutting deeper with every huffing exhale.

The silence that echoed in his soul was a relentless scream, a haunting, deafening reminder of the emptiness that consumed him.

“I should’ve told someone,” Richy said in a whisper.

The words bounced softly off the rock, a harmony of regret.

He twitched as it fell silent, mouth furling and eyes glazing over as he listened to the racket in his head.

All you had to do was hand yourself in. You could have avoided all of this.

What do you think will happen to your family? They’ll live happily ever after in the town you terrorized?

Do you honestly think your pathetic letter will save them?

The slippery voice of his own darkness broke into a baleful laugh. It made the hair in his nape rise and stand stiff. He shuddered, thrashing his head and gritting his teeth until they squeaked.

“I tried. I always tried. But I’m a failure. I’ve always been a failure. I can make it right. It’s the only way.” He muttered as the disembodied voice agreed.

Make it right? Ha! You think you can wash away the stain of your idiocy?

You’re tainted.

Forever marked by your wrong choices, Richy.

Redemption? You make me laugh.

Redemption is a fairytale, a delusion you’re desperately clinging to.

It is so far beyond your reach…

Richy’s voice was a growl as he said, “No, redemption isn’t my goal. I can’t undo the damage I’ve caused, but I can end it before anyone else gets hurt. I can make sure the world knows it was me.”

The derisive laughter of his demons chafed at his skull as if their talons were scratching their unspeakable names into the bone.

You’re a lost cause. A testament to all your failures.

Each step you take is a step closer to the abyss of self condemnation.

There’s no way out.

Your sacrifice won’t save your soul.

“I accept that!” Richy roared, spittle flying from his chapped lips as he panted like a wounded beast.

“My death might be the only way to atone for all I’ve done. I don’t care what comes after that. But my family won’t suffer because of me. Not any more.”

The voice in his head made a sound of agreement before it crooned his worst fears.

Yes, your death is the ultimate penance.

Your final act of contrition for the havoc you’ve so selfishly wrought.

Then again, have you considered the aftermath?

Your family will endure your actions. Long after you’re gone. Their suffering will echo until they, too, shuffle off the mortal coil.

Searing fiery agony ripped through Richy’s heart. It felt as though someone had taken a knife, heated it up over a fire until it glowed red hot, and then plunged it into his chest. The scent of burned flesh and molten iron filled his nose. The sensation felt so real to him.

His hand clawed at his jacket over his pounding heart, as if to pull the blade free, but his fingers met only dirty fabric.

“They won’t! They won’t! They won’t! I’ve made sure of it. This isn’t their burden to bear!” He yelled, voice laced with an anguish that made his body convulse as rivulets of salt descended his bared teeth.

Helplessness stole over him as his demons taunted and chuckled in a scornful manner.

You should have thought about that before you started donning the guise of an ancient legend.

Idiot.

Weak.

Pathetic!

Your existence is a festering wound that poisons all in your vicinity.

Embrace the fire.

Let it cleanse all the filth you’ve spread.

But just know, your family will bear the scars of your choices, as they’re carved into their souls for eternity.

Richy sobbed through the agonising sensation weaving through his internal organs. He felt as though someone was weaving his internal organs together with a blunt needle, and they had deliberately coated the thread in salt to prolong his suffering. The increasing pressure in his head demanded an outlet as well.

Everything ached, it bled, and it tore him apart. He was so tired. So tired of trying.

This mine, this town, and all it had demanded of him, he was done with it all. He wanted it to burn. His desire was for them all to suffer, just as he had for a decade. He hadn’t dug just one grave that night. No, there had been one accident and four graves waiting for them. They’d just seen theirs too late.

The forest had never forgotten them, though. It had been patient.

That night with Hannah and Amy, it had never ended. It was a living nightmare he had no way out of. Their deaths had simply waited for them to catch up, and even if Hannah could find it in her to exist after all he’d done, he knew she’d died alongside Jennifer and the rest of them.

Ghosts. That’s what they were. He saw it now. There was no point in trying to hold it off anymore.

It was as if the pressure in his head imploded with that thought.

He wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings as his mind fragmented and warped, and his tenuous hold on reality slipped from his grasp.

The cave dissolved in his vision. Something at the very core of himself disintegrated with it.

He was somewhere else. Somewhere he had long tried to forget.

It was ten years ago.

Amy was there. As was Hannah.

He held a muddied shovel. The surrounding forest smelled like home, but his blood had turned cold. Jennifer’s lifeless body lay broken and bloodied, the remnants of shock still painted across her lovely features.

Her hair lay in a sanguine halo around her head as Richy set down the shovel, and silently, the trio worked to lift the woman.

Hannah’s sobs blended with his labored breathing, sweat drip, drip, dripped down his sore neck. He’d wanted to report it to the police. Tried to convince them to do so anonymously. But Hannah, in her fright, had convinced him they’d be signing their death warrants.

His family would suffer. It was he who gave her the keys to a client’s car. It was due to be scrapped, yes, but that didn’t make it better. Everyone would boycott his dad’s Garage and now that mom was growing worse, the sickness in her invading her mind, he knew they needed that income more than ever.

All they could do was hide the body, agree never to speak of this night, and give the greatest performances of their lives to ensure no one ever suspected them once word of Jennifer’s vanishing spread through Duskwood. He felt like something inside him was dying.

His throat tightened, mouth flooding with saliva as the urge to vomit overtook his senses. Heat crawled through him as he swallowed a mouthful of acidic bile and looked heavenward as they shuffled to stand at the edge of the crudely dug grave.

The stars overhead mocked them as the foliage and freshly overturned earth disguised the metallic scent of spilled blood and their sour shared guilt.

“Are you sure you can live with this?” He asked as they hesitated to drop Jennifer into the ground.

Amy chewed on her bottom lip, blood staining her teeth she’d bitten so hard, and her leaking eyes wouldn’t settle on anything as she gave a single jerky nod. Richy’s stomach sank, but he turned his gaze to Hannah.

His friend’s grief mottled face would haunt him forever as she said, “What other choice do we have?”

That answer inspired zero confidence, but Richy accepted it as an affirmation, and said, “Okay, on three—1, 2, 3!”

With a slight swing and a wobble, they released their hold on Jennifer and all three screwed their eyes shut as she hit the bottom of the hole with a sickening crunch.

Amy fell to her knees, her shaking hands gripping the loose mud ringing the unmarked grave as she sobbed uncontrollably. Richy could hardly stand to watch her, and was glad when Hannah, who was crying freely herself, hauled her away.

He nodded once as Hannah and Amy embraced, clinging to one another, wordless apologies pouring from them both as Richy retrieved his shovel.

He felt like they were being watched. Paranoia snaked through his mind like a weed he knew would grow out of control. All he could do was start refilling the grave.

The soft sound of metal scooping up damp earth seemed to ring through the forest as he internally shut down. All his emotions, he forced them aside. He locked them in a cage made of lead and lined with explosives. Life would never be the same.

Life would be a method actors dream after this. He knew this would change them at a molecular level and none of them could breathe a word of it once they left this cursed forest.

Richy took the last deep breath he’d ever experience and watched expressionlessly as the earth rained down on Jennifer. The pattering noise reminded him of rain, of tears. Amy cried harder while he diligently worked to cover up their mistakes.

Hannah watched, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Wetness trickled down his cheeks as he slowly returned to the present.

Hannah’s face floated across his vision as the scene fully dissipated, and he found himself back in the cave. Stale air replaced the aroma of the night dark forest, and a thin haze hung over his eyes as a euphoric rush raced through his bloodstream.

He felt as if he was floating and drowning in a sea of deliriousness.

The medication had kicked in. His legs were leaden as his head lolled on his neck as if on a swivel, and there was an odd sensation in his nose, like the smell of a roaring fire, but none had been lit. The bullet wound in his arm still griped. Infection had set in, he thought.

Only death would cure it. The meds would ease his passing.

A synthetic fatigue draped him like a cloak as he blinked blearily at the dancing shadows creeping nearer. His mouth turned so dry his tongue curdled in his mouth, and his breathing grew shallower as the painkillers burned through the aches in his body. Not long now, his mosaic mind kept jumping between the past and present, footsteps and disembodied voices whispered so close and real that he answered one.

“I should have turned myself in, I know.”

“At least we agree on something. ”

A female said. His suddenly too heavy head swung around to find the source, his sluggish heart raced faster and faster as the voice sounded like Jessy’s.

“Jess? Remember the fish? The names I made up? If I could—No—I’m so fucking sorry...” He said. He spoke with a voice threaded with deepest despondency.

“The fish were just another lie. All of it was. Your life ended the night Jennifer did. Was any of it real after that? Anything you said, did you mean any of it?”

His shrunken heart broke irrevocably, the agony radiated through his chest, and filled him with a coldness that would soon embrace all of him.

“I didn’t mean—please—I’m ready to pay for it. No one else will hurt because of me.” He swore vehemently.

Jessy’s spectral laugh, derisive and humorless, taunted him.

“We will hurt. It won’t go away. Your actions caused wounds that will scar us forever. Death is your relief. Living with what you did to us is our grief. Goodbye, Richy.”

Richy cried silently as her voice faded and the full effects of the painkillers turned his bones to jelly. He had to light the fire before he passed out. A coffin was his only way out of this cursed place.

Bracing a hand on the knobby wall, he gradually rose to his feet as rock crumbled under his fingers, and rained to the dusty ground, sweat on his palm mixed with the dirt as he tottered toward the entrance. He thumbed the Zippo open as he panted, jaw clenched and eyes stinging with slaking tears.

Petrol permeated the air. He breathed it in as he flicked the lighter and swayed on weak knees as the tiny flame ignited. In the dim, damp recesses of the mine, shadows waltzed like specters as Richy, face obscured by the glow of the lighter and shadow, dropped the flame with a snap of his wrist into the pool of gasoline.

Flame surged away from him, hissing along in a serpentine trail until it morphed into a living beast starved and hungry for destruction. He stumbled back. The heat was a physical blow as it sucked out the oxygen, and he trembled like a newborn fawn as he dropped to his knees and stared and stared and stared.

Amidst the cavernous depths of the mine, the candescent light of the furious fire cast a macabre ballet of shadows upon the rough-hewn walls, a surreal tableau of light and darkness. Tendrils of flame licked and lapped at the stone, awakening ember-tinged echoes that wavered and flashed like phantoms in the subterranean gloom.

Billowing smoke, an ash ridden shroud, coiled sinuously through the labyrinthine passages. The evidence he had doused in gasoline would soon catch fire. Relief glittered through him at the thought. An acrid perfume of burning wood and charred earth mingled with the metallic scent of ancient minerals, an otherworldly aroma that lingered in his lungs and clung to all his senses.

There was no going back now. Every breath was slower than the last. It felt like he was inhaling lava as the heat singed the soft tissue and hair in his nose.

His weighty eyelids sat at half mast. The tunnel walls seemed to exhale, releasing murmurs of long buried secrets, as if the very mine itself sought to voice its resignation to the all-consuming blaze. Mirroring his own easing turmoil as he shut down the instinct to flee and welcomed the darkness speckling the edges of his vision.

His lungs were burning as he struggled for air, and it felt like there was a boulder sitting on his chest, keeping them from inflating and grinding his bones down.

The feeling went out of his legs as his hands turned to claws and raked down his neck, leaving scarlet trails of pain scoring his constricting throat.

His world flipped sideways as he collapsed and his head cracked off the rubble strewn ground, but he no longer felt any pain. The roar of the fire, the slowing beat of his heart, and the stones poking into his tear-streaked face were all he knew.

As Richy’s weary eyes teetered on the edge of closure for the last time, a bizarre scene unfolded within the tumult of his fading consciousness.

The nerves in his hands spasmed and his fingers twitched, filthy nails scratching at the dirt to distract himself as he resisted the urge to fight for his life.

No, it had to end like this. If Hell was real, it was best he got used to it.

Freezing panic blasted through him like a blizzard as his blurred eyes caught sight of something that didn’t belong.

Through the shimmering haze of smoke and heat, a figure emerged from a tunnel he hadn’t thought to include in his fiery last act. His heart tried to beat faster as fear spread its icy fingers through his body. The person appeared cloaked in a shivering orange glow and erratic shadows.

Masked and foreboding, the phantom figure raced away without noticing Richy. And lost in the fractured fabric of his perception, Richy could not see who or what it was. If it was a real person, they might’ve tried to drag him out. This would all be for naught. For once, his horrendous luck benefited him.

As it was, the panicked footsteps bolted away from him, barely heard over the howling fire, and vanished into the tumult of smoke.

He hoped they made it out. It hadn’t occurred to him he might take another’s life with him. Just another mistake. Another tally on his list of sins committed. His choices lay before him like an intricately woven tapestry, each thread a testament to the wrong turns and paths he tread, yielding a disturbing, wretched pattern he wished he could unravel and weave anew.

His trembling gaze soon faltered as the slithering smoke filled his lungs, gasping for air that no longer existed as he spluttered and coughed. With every shallow inhale, the world blurred and distorted. Black spots burst like maleficent fireworks in his eyes, shutting down his fleeting thoughts of crawling to safety.

A cacophony of wheezes and whines slipping from his open mouth faded into a distant echo, as his eyelids, heavy with surrender, fluttered closed. He gave himself over to the exhaustion eating him alive from the inside.

The world outside ceased to matter as an alleviating darkness enveloped his mind. His tiny exhales were little more than puffs of air. A whispered farewell to all those he was leaving behind.

Richy had fallen quiet, but the fire raged on, growing stronger as it feasted on wood, and hastily packed boxes, and the papers inside them. His legacy of ash and blood.

In the letter he left for his parents, he had assumed all guilt and taken the lion's share of the responsibility for Jennifer’s death, and his actions after. Hannah, he thought she had suffered enough, and whatever punishment she received, he didn’t want it to ruin her more. Death was his toll to pay, his lethal reputation would exist long after him and pay for the rest of it. He only hoped his parents could move on from this.

They wouldn’t see him again, not until the funeral. It was over. The corrosive effects of his choices had eaten away at everything good in him.

There was nothing left to salvage from his wreckage.

He tried. And he failed. This time, he finally succeeded in something. The complete demolition of him. A tear slipped through his lashes, warm and soft as it fell to the mucky ground.

It was the last. No more fell.

Death came quietly for him, as silent as a falling leaf drifting into a pile of its fallen friends. His chest stuttered as tentacles of smoke wreathed around him like funeral wrappings, falling as still as the rock he lay atop.

Death finally slayed Richy Rogers’ demons, and no one heard their screams.

——————

I have never been so nervous about something I’ve written. I hope that you—I can’t say enjoyed 🙈 but I hope your time wasn’t wasted. Thank you for reading, if you made it this far.

This is in no way meant to glamorise mental illness or anything like that. That is not my intention. I have been where Richy was in this story, I didn’t kidnap or help bury anyone, but I’ve dealt with depression/anxiety all my life. I’ve dealt with suicidal thoughts. There is nothing glamorous about it. This is just a fictional character study to explore his mind and emotions at the end of the game. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust. Or a stranger, if that works better. Share the burden. You don’t have to suffer alone. It can get better. I promise. I wouldn’t be here if it didn’t ❤️🫂

Thank you ❤️

And the “masked figure,” that was Jake from this story, The Ending You Deserve. Just a little Easter egg for anyone who read that 🤭❤️

#dark fanfiction #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #duskwood fandom #duskwood #richy rogers #duskwood richy #duskwood jessy #duskwood jake #duskwood fanfic #duskwood oneshot #moonvale #duskwood episode 10 #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #duskwood fanfiction #one shot #angst #hurt/angst #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #sad ending #dark themes #duskwood x moonvale #duskwood mwaf #fanfiction writer #my writing #women writers #creative writers

[emotionallydevastatedandverygay]

episode 27 of welcome to night vale my beloved

#i think it might be my favorite episode ever #but then i've only listened to the first 2 seasons so i can't really know #that episode is amazing though #i was smiling like an idiot the entire time #and the weather is so amazing!!! #it's all perfect #welcome to night vale #wtnv #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist

[accio-victuuri]

xz & wyb behind the scenes compilation/ fan video { sweet days } by 无解·0805x1005 ❤️💛💚

#I DARE YOU TO WATCH THIS AND NOT SMILE LIKE AN IDIOT THE ENTIRE TIME #the best kind of serotonin boost #i will remember to keep this and watch when the work week gets stressful #these boys are my meow meows and i love them soooo #yizhan #bjyx #untamed bts #cql bts #wangxiao #the untamed

[clowningaroundmars]

my absolute fave thing to read in punkflower fics is lovesick puppy hobie brown

cool-as-a-cucumber hobie overthinking miles' every move, leaving lingering touches on him, longing glances thrown his way

certified BAMF hobie hanging by a doorway or window just a second too long before leaving miles

"skinny-hot" hobie refusing to believe someone as ✨️cool✨️ as miles would be into someone like him

badass punk hobie just yearning and pining and practically draping himself all over miles in desperate attempts but then pulling back all scared when anyone even hints that they should get together

god, i need pining lovesick loser hobie like AIR rn 😭

#mine #punkflower #spiderverse #can yall tell i am Not Normal rn #COOL HOT BADASS FUNNY HOBIE JUST!! *clenches fist* JUST!!! just fuckin swooning #like a victorian lady whenever miles does Anything #i mean do yall SEE the way he pays attention to and looks at miles in the movie? #i am unwell. i will never be able to emotionally recover from this #just... god. i love it #hobie brown spider punk just trailing after miles #joking with him and wrapping him up in all of the clothes he can manage to bring #practically screaming silently for miles' attention at every moment #showing off a lil bit when theyre swinging #dont get me wrong hobie is a very very cool guy. when miles isnt there #miles: shows up #hobie: immediately turns into the worlds biggest clumsiest clown to ever exist #miles: smiles #hobie: crashes into 2 walls a telephone pole and falls over a fence #bonus points if miles literally has zero clue the entire time #bc like obviously miles KNOWS hobie is ridiculously hot. this is canon #but SURELY someone like hobie has nooooo interest in him whatsoEVER right guys? …right? ahaha #IDIOTS the both of them #idiots in love #this is a trope i will never tire of ever #also the skinny-hot comment is a reference to the official atsv script #LOOK IT UP IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY #it is filled to brim with homosexuality and plenty of funny ass lines of miles being jealous #but miles my boy. my baby boy #look at me #you need not be jealous of hobie. YOURE the one in the middle of the love triangle NOT GWEN

[kelbunny]

Go update Triangle Strategy right now asdfghjkl

New Golden Route Scene! Wedding Scene :D

He's telling Frederica :0. And the fact he turned to his brother and made sure Roland was okay with it aaah these siblings

Anna, Geela, and Erador trying to have a nice conversation only to be intrupted by Lionel smh

Archibald trying to tell these two greedy merchants to stop being greedy lol

Anna also telling them to stop being greedy merchants

Milo being her cheeky nosy self trying to tell Lyla to go hug her son, he's literally been having visions of hugging his mom at the wedding

Asdfghjkl aaaaahhhhhh h u g

Quahaug hug

This one was really sweet. Two parents who lost their children realizing they need to carry the ardent dreams of the youth in their stead.

Roland finally accepting Avlora who's being an angsty butt bc she doesn't want to ruin the happy wedding

Serenoa wedding sprite?

FREDERICA WEDDING SPRITE!?

And I forgot up until this moment that you can check characters profiles when they're speaking and just... new art! In their wedding clothes!

I also want to rewatch just to see what everyone's profiles look like haha

Credits for the extra chapter had some art not shown in the Anniversary Livestream :0

You can now replay all story battles you've done as mock battles haha now you can get trounced by ng+ Trish and Travis whenever lol

You can also rewatch any Character Stories you've seen can't rewatch story cutscenes however

#triangle strategy #triangle strategy spoilers #Kelbunn's gameplay #Sorta #Mostly just screencaps haha #I was smiling like an idiot the entire hecking time #I just it's too sweet #And all of this is a free hecking update #I'm not going to complain about not being able to rewatch story cutscenes bc like #Tristrat before the update was a complete game #These are just bonus qol stuff #It's like getting a full cake and then a while later being told that they also got you a bunch of cupcakes #Anyways go play Tristrat #Serefrede

[halforcdad]

The last time we got a shot of Lucy at Whistler's door in 1x11 vs. the scene we got at the end of 2x05

1x11: The relationship's in the early uncertain stages, the scene takes place at night time, Lucy being timid and anxious because she knows that Kate doesn't like surprises and doesn't know how she'll react to her showing up out of nowhere, but still trying to seek reassurance and support, someone else opens the door and she finds out the hard way what secrets Kate's keeping, Kate tries to clarify that it isn't what it looks like, but her explainations sound more like deflections, her actions + excuses do more to protect herself rather than protect or reassure Lucy, their conversation outside the elevator seems very hushed and illicit affairs-like, Lucy worrying that Kate betrayed her because of Cara, because she wasn't honest with her, they fight and fall apart because they aren't on the same page at all and Kate messed up big time, Kate chases after her but Lucy ends up leaving heartbroken, essentially the end of whatever relationship they had

2x05: The relationship is established, it's day time, Kate is the one opening the door, fully expecting Lucy this time and all the time because Lucy's always over, Lucy doesn't tiptoe or beat around the bush she blurts out what's on her mind, Lucy worrying that Kate doesn't want her because she's making it seem impersonal and rational rather emotional and from the heart, Lucy gets the reassurance she's looking for from Kate loud and clear, of course Kate wants Lucy in her life, wants her to be close all the time and wants to share everything with her, assuring her there are no more secrets and she has nothing to hide, wants to be with Lucy all the time because she loves her, they messed up because they were trying to be considerate and didn't want to pressure the other into something they didn't want but they've really been on the same page this whole time, Lucy clarifies that they aren't fighting! just talking things out and realizing they've both been over thinking, they finally let themselves be excited and enthusiasthic about living together, they smile and kiss sweetly before Lucy walks into the apartment that's now also hers, confident and sure about where they stand and how much they love each other, a big step in growing their trust and their relationship further

#ncis hawaii #ncis hawai`i #kacy #lucy tara #kate whistler #me looking for parallels in literally anything #the contrast of Lucy leaving heartbroken vs her walking into the apartment so happy and assured is killing me #imagine being the neighbor across from kate and trying to leave your apartment but you cant #because you always time your errands at the exact same time as your lesbian neighbors doorway/hallway shenanigans #kate being confused the entire conversation was so funny shes still looking around and processing when she asks if Lucy's moving in #and their smiles and the looks of sincere affection wow i love acting #they are truly idiots in love this was so romcom of them #even kate messing with lucy by saying financially responsible decision at the end was so cute #real talk do we think lucy ever does that to jokingly flirt with kate like im sure shes tired of hearing it after this ep but #do you think shes like babe i got these groceries on sale or i got a good deal on this air fryer does that turn you on #they really have so much goofy and crack potential LMAO #let no one ever again say lucy never lets Whistler talk bc she got all her words in this time! #progress!

[goldennika]

why is Soobin the most precious babie boy to ever exist 🥹😭😭

#can't believe i'm only watching this now!! #i was smiling like an idiot the entire time !! #he and jaejae get along so well #and you can really see how sincere he is about the whole thing 🥹😭 #i'm just a soobrangdan fighting for my life out here #i love him sm #soobin #tomorrow x together #mmtg

[schigeo]

And when I say mob psycho 100 is the greatest anime ever made...I'm kidding, but only half

#sorry I justed watched ep 1 of the new season and I couldn't help smiling like an idiot the entire time #god I adore this show #and I missed it so much #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mob psycho season 3

[singsweetmelodies]

hihi I would just like to share my two cents because that anon's ask made me ???

I think the anon should realise it's called real person FICTION for a reason. things in RPF are made up, and by that extent, characters are too. That means even though authors borrow real people's names and sometimes make references to real events, at the end of the day, the character in RPF works are not the actual people themselves. Which is why I'm completely ok with reading fics involving drivers that are not top of my favourites/I don't know that much about if the summary of the work interests me a lot, like I personally do not really care much for Esteban outside of the fact that he, Pierre and Charles did spend quite a lot of time together in karting as they are French/French-adjacent, but I'm okay with trying reading say, Pierresteban fics from time to time. Or perhaps the fics come from a writer whose other works I enjoyed reading and I think, ok this fic's ideas, characterisation etc will most likely be good. Because these drivers in the fics aren't 100% representative of the actual drivers.

That being said, I'd understand if a driver's certain IRL actions disgust you so much that you can't bring yourself to read fics that involve that driver, like for me, I really can't bring myself to read anything involving Mazep*n. BUT that doesn't mean I can, or should, impose my belief onto others. Everyone being free to enjoy and curate their experience both here and on Tumblr is what makes fandom experience healthy.

Anyways, rant over, I hope you have a great weekend ahead (p.s. I always love to read your tags. They are always plentiful and detailed <3)

AMEN!! this, exactly - i agree completely with every word you've said here, omg. real person fiction: exactly! we borrow their names and aspects of their characters and backstories, but it's just that: borrowing. none of it is real.

and YES, i'm exactly in agreement with you again about reading fics for drivers who aren't usually my favourites. if it's by an author i like, or if the summary is intriguing... my thoughts exactly! we are here to have fun in fandom, so why shouldn't we read whatever strikes our fancy?

as for that last paragraph of yours about not imposing one's beliefs onto others, and curating your own experience: i know i've said it a lot in this reply, but EXACTLY. fandom should be about fun, and the second one tries to force things onto other people, it stops being fun. i feel like a lot of this fandom's nastier anons lately are hiding behind the anon button purely to ruin other people's experience, which i find both a completely baffling thing to want to do, firstly, but also incredibly cowardly. it's like they know they're in the wrong, so they're relying on anonymity just to try and ruin someone's day.

and not to bring taylor swift into everything, but like... "this is why we can't have nice things // because you break them // i had to take them away." i can't understand why anyone in their right mind would hate on any content creator!! all you are going to do, eventually, is drive them away. and if all the content creators are driven away, then soon there won't be any fandom!! i don't CARE how wild someone's ship is. even if someone ships something which to me is completely absurd - like... fernando/charles, to choose a wild one - i wouldn't send them hate about it. fernando/charles makes no sense to me personally, but as long as it makes them happy, that's all that matters, and nobody should ever tell them anything different. ship fernando/charles and have a great time if that's what floats your boat!

anyways yes 🙈 a very long, rambly answer all just to say thank you so so much for sending this, and i agree completely ❤️ i do wish i could print this out and have it sent physically to that anon (🤦🏼‍♀️) but yes, i appreciate you so so much for taking the time to come and share this! you are a star <333

#asks & answers #🖥 sometypeoffeels #i saw this on my tea break at work and just smiled at my phone down the entire time the kettle was boiling #because just. EXACTLY!! #you get it... you completely get it #thank you so so much ❤️ #logically i know that anon was way out of line #but having people agree with me and back me up just makes me feel so much better about it all ❤️ #so i really REALLY appreciate this! #and omg you wrote such a well-worded and well-reasoned rant too #LOVE it #you really are amazing mwah ❤️❤️ #ALSO TYSM FOR THE COMPLIMENTS @ MY TAGS #it always makes me blush and twirl my hair lmaoooo #i am an insane idiot in the tags but it makes me so happy to hear that people like it <3333 #kisses!! 😘

[severepink]

Observing Adam

Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.

Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?

This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.

All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.

He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.

If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.

Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.

I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.

I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.

Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.

Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.

Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.

Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.

Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.

Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.

Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.

I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.

Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.

We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.

I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.

Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.

Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.

I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.

It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.

3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))

Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.

Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.

Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.

Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?

I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.

And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.

Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.

At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.

I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.

He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.

Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.

Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.

I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?

I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.

Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?

I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.

This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.

But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.

This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.

And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?

Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.

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