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lavenderleahy · 16 days

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Buck scans the reception venue, eyes finally landing on Tommy. He's is sitting at an otherwise empty table in the back of the venue, sipping on punch and staring off in the distance. As Buck jogs over to him, Tommy notices him and his eyes lift with the hint of a smile. Buck slides into the chair nearest to him, hunching over earnestly.

"Tommy, hey. I'm so sorry. I did not mean to ditch you for half the wedding."

"Hey it's all good," Tommy shrugs. "You've got your priorities. Maddie needed you. No one could've predicted the chaos of the day."

"Yes," Buck responds, placing a hand on Tommy's. "But I'm still sorry. I'd do anything for Maddie, but it still wasn't okay to desert you."

Tommy mirrors Buck's movements and places his other hand on top of his. Smiles gently. "Evan. I can hold my own at a wedding. I promise."

Buck glances down, then looks up at Tommy, smiling shyly. "It's just... it's only our second date and I've fucked up both of them."

Tommy laughs. A real, pleasant laugh. It makes butterflies dance in Buck's stomach.

"You've done nothing of the sort, Evan," Tommy responds. "Sure, everything with you is.... unexpected. But I like it."

Now the butterflies are doing somersaults. "Yeah?"

Tommy smiles and squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Yeah."

Buck beams. God, he's so nervous. Tommy makes him nervous. He still can't believe Tommy has given him another chance after their train wreck of a first date. He'd been thinking about the wedding for days beforehand, just wanting everything to go perfectly. Needless to say, it had not gone perfectly. Not even close.

But here Tommy still was, smiling at him, holding his hand, forgiving him anyways. He hadn't left in the chaos. He-

"You're staring." Tommy's voice interrupts his train of thought. He raises his eyebrows. "Like what you see?"

Fuck, Tommy's so confident. Of course he's confident. He's cool, and he's loyal, and he's willing to take risks, and he has a cleft, and - Buck can't stop himself. He reaches his hand up and gently grasps Tommy by the chin, his thumb on that dimple and his four fingers brushing against the stubble near his neck.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he says, breathless.

Tommy doesn't say anything, just nods solemnly.

Buck leans in and closes the gap, brushing his lips against Tommy's. Immediately, there's electricity buzzing between them and he deepens the kiss. Their noses and foreheads are pressed against each other, their lips dancing in unison, and there's nothing, nothing that Buck would rather be doing right now. His right hand snakes around Tommy's neck and he pulls him in closer, impossibly closer. The kiss is perfect. Tommy is perfect. He never wants this kiss to end.

But Tommy pulls back, ending the kiss far, far too early. His face his flushed and Buck is proud to notice that he might be a little breathless, too. He stands up, and Buck's eyes follow him, wide and wondering.

"C'mon," Tommy says, offering a hand to Buck where he remains in the chair.

Buck puts his hand in Tommy's but he can't move. His mind is still reeling from the kiss. He wants to kiss Tommy again.

"You said you needed someone to dance with, right?"

This shakes Buck out of his stupor, and he laughs. "Yeah, I did," he says, rising to his feet. He lets his eyes meet Tommy's and steps forward into his space. "Let's dance."

#bucktommy #911 abc #911 speculation #evan buckley #tommy kinard #i was just thinking of the potential dynamics of tommy being buck's wedding date #and this is what happened #hope u enjoy tumblr #:)#im sorry if anything is ooc cause i'm very new to the fandom #i'm just really enjoying these boys and theor journey :')

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fake-married-my-dead-fiance · 1 month

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Queen of Tears is really saying maybe it's not a dream to marry an emotionally-distant, traumatized, horrible-family-having, only-loves-you rich person (like every other drama has sold) because love didn't fix them and when their life gets tough and they are traumatized again they'll regress into their old habits and also having that horrid family around all the time will very slowly crush your soul until you start to imagine that the only escape is your spouse dying of an incurable disease because that is the only way you'll ever get a clean break and get your life back because the lack of overt affection is literally killing you inside.

#queen of tears #I love it so much #so you saw the other dramas this one is three years later #and this is what happened #sequel to The Business Proposal and so many others

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dailypav · 5 months

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Pav trying to understand bra sizes

Drawing Pav every day until he's playable: Day 28

I am....so so sorry

#fear and hunger termina #fear and hunger #fear and hunger pav #pav fear and hunger #pavel yudin #funger termina #daily pav #i thought to myself “y'know what i should draw him properly this time”#and this is what happened

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kalevalakryze · 10 months

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Closing In

Warnings: panic attacks, mentions of anxiety, ptsd, claustrophobia

Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, The Armorer, Ragnar Vizsla(mentioned)

Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze/The Armorer

Notes: this definitely wasn’t meant to turn out like this, but my brain started to spin the idea and I just let it roll. It also, definitely wasn’t supposed to be so long. But I also missed writing for these two, and I’m trying to get back into the groove.

I started writing this wide awake, and by the time I got to the end I was falling asleep , so I apologize for any spelling errors

Ever since she was a child, Bo-Katan Kryze had trained her mind and body to handle nearly every situation with a cool head, could face some of the most gruesome scenes on a battlefield and walk away just fine, because she was strong, because she put years into developing a resistance to the world she found herself in. When in immediate danger, she could force her brain to analyze quickly before acting, the ‘fight or flight’ many had talked about around her had been unheard of.

But despite all her strength, the circumstances changed, and no amount of training could have prepared her for the way her body would start to react, how her fight mode would click over to freeze, and she hated it.

The panic hadn’t really hit her until she found herself alone on Kalevala, where the droid she’d kept around was the only one to help pull her out, when her fingers would clench around the arm of the throne and her teeth would grind together as she tried to rile up enough anger to phase out the feeling of dying, until she was angry enough at anything and everything to force her body to start moving again.

She’d thought that things would be better, after reclaiming Mandalore, that the walls that moved in time with her racing heart would stop, that her body could finally relax because she was safe, Mandalore was home again, but her brain and body seemed reluctant to acknowledge this.

Bo had been lucky enough that these ‘attacks’ never happened around others, where she could drop to the ground in her own ship or her own quarters, and try to claw the demonic bastard out of her. And where she would often lay frozen for hours until the rustle or mandalorian’s waking in the mornings pulled her out, forced her to prepare for the day, sleep be damned, she was the Mand’alor.

And it had stayed like that for some time, leaving the woman content with the new schedule (as comfortable as she could be, trying to find sleep in nights full of panic and grief), had figured out how to balance each attack and work her schedule to accommodate her alone time in those hours, until… she couldn’t. Until she wasn’t alone anymore.

The Armorer had called her to the Great Forge, a place the woman had not been in some time. And at first, it had been fine, because the younglings wanted to show her their work, and the apprentices under The Armorer’s command were excited to talk about their progress, and it was just so much easier to cloud the rising anxiety, to focus on their helmets or faces instead of the way the rock formations along the walls had started to breathe in sync with her.

Until the apprentices and younglings had departed for their dinner, until The Armorer was leading her further into the winding tunnels, to a room that had been furnished into an armory. The Armorer was talking, and attempting to show her a piece they’d finished, trying to show her the Beskar Plate that had been furnished by a young Ragnar, who’d lain the Kryze insignia into the metal and had painted it a combination of silver, teal, and black.

She didn’t notice the piece of armor that had been crafted for her though, the only thoughts she could entertain were the certainty that she was going to die here, the walls closed tighter around her with every breath, tagged in her throat and leaving her mouth dry. The Armorer was in front of her then, and she could assume from the distant timbre that something was being said, but she couldn’t, just couldn’t breathe!

The Mand’alor dropped to her knees, gloved fingers digging into the iron heart in her armor, pulling at the pieces that seemed too tight, too constricting, she just needed room, but everything was closing in, and she could barely see The Armorer right in front of her, but her skin prickled like fire under the heavy hand that rested against her back.

“Off, off,” she gasped finally, her armor starting to separate from the leather buckles that held it in place as she focused every ounce of waning strength into forcing the piece off her chest, trying to find the room to breathe in the constricting space. “Off-“ she spoke again, voice nearing a pathetic sound that she would never forgive herself for making in front of another living being.

And oh maker, how was she ever going to look at The Armorer after this? Was she going to be immediately usurped for the blatant weakness? Would they just kill her then and be done with her? The thoughts did nothing to quell the bone deep ache, of the hammering of her heart that was certain she was going to die if the armor wasn’t gone.

The other woman was still for just a moment, hands hovering as Bo continued to claw at her own chest, forcing the metal to move from the liner that kept the chest plates combined over the flight suit. Then, deft fingers were releasing the straps, much easier than Bo was trying to get them off, the plates dropping to the ground with a sharp clang, the long plate from her back also clattering at the release, until her upper body was free and she could start to breathe again.

Finally able to gather some air through the filters of her helmet, Bo managed to reach her hand up and yank the helmet off of her own head, letting it drop to the ground just as disrespectfully as the chest plates, because she was going to die, the armor didn’t matter because there was no one to pass it down to.

The redhead’s cheeks were flushed, pupils blown wide as the pure and primal fear that had boiled in her veins started to simmer, as the fear of death was replaced by shame and embarrassment. She kept her eyes focused on the floor, on the way her muscles went rigid after she’d dropped, and on the way her chest expanded with every breath, free of the claustrophobia the metal on her chest had brought her.

Still, The Armorer did not leave her side, knelt down beside the Mand’alor like at prayer, though instead of her hands clasped in a steeple, the woman’s discarded helmet was held carefully in gloved hands.

They sat like that for minutes, the only sound the unrestricted noise of Bo’s labored breaths and the occasional shifting of what was left of her armor as she adjusted her weight on the floor. “Are you alright, Lady Bo-Katan?” The woman finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“I’m alright,” she answered too quickly, voice hoarse as she struggled to right herself, finally starting to push herself to get ready to stand when a hand had reached and stopped her ascent.

“Sit a moment, please,” and while she was asking, even at her worst, Bo follows the command, turning to sit beside The Armorer on the floor, the metal leg of the table pressing into her back as the other woman settled into an officially sitting position, Bo’s helmet held in her lap.

“If you’re trying to figure out how to tell me to get out, you can just say it, I can take it,” Bo spoke after several beats of silence. Even when that golden helmet turned again, and she could feel the eyes on her through the visor, she forced her gaze on the nearest wall in front of her, jaw tensing as her hands pulled into fists, preparing herself for it.

Again, a beat of silence, as The Armorer tried to process this. “Bo-Katan, Mandalore is your home, just as it is any other Mandalorians’. No one has any right to ask you to leave, unless it is of your own volition,”

The Mand’alor made like she was going to speak, but clamped her mouth shut when The Armorer spoke again. “We are a United people, stronger together, thanks to you, but even the strongest armor has it’s melting point, a weak spot. That is where the rest of the armor comes into play, to help protect that spot until it can be repaired,”

Her helmet was set down, and this time, she’d picked up Bo’s chest piece, claw marks pulling the paint away from the chrome around her iron heart, testament to her frantic scrambling. “You are not any less a Mandalorian because of this, nor any less the Mand’alor that has brought our people together at last.”

When the armor was set down once more, and a gloved hand moved to rest on Bo’s shoulder tentatively, the Mand’alor leaned into the strength provided, until her heated face was meeting the cool of red painted armor and the softness of the fur on her back.

“Together,” Bo echoed at last, as her legs tucked up close to her chest, as The Armorer’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, and the walls started to push out a bit, no longer as tight an constricting as they’d been feeling for weeks.

When she could finally take in slow and measured breaths again, and the last of the adrenaline burned from her body, Bo had finally stood, reaching to grasp an offered arm, bound in leather, to steady herself. “I apologize, for steering us so far away from our intended objective here,” she finally spoke as The Armorer picked up her discarded armor pieces and laid them against the table.

“The time is not important, as it will still be here when you are ready,” and then The Armorer was turning the piece so Bo could fully look at it. It was just the right breastplate, but it was clear that the craftsman took a great deal of time and effort into shaping the Beskar, inlaying clan Kryze’s crest into the metal, and from each paint stroke that colored the metal. She knew how important the colors of armor were to the children of the watch, how their paints were chosen carefully to express their duties to this life. The teal, a color she was seeing more and more in the Mandalorian’s that survived the purge symbolized healing, something Bo was certain they all needed a certain degree of.

The silver covered a large expanse of the plated piece, and while many could assume it plain, she was aware of the colors purpose, redemption, easy to paint to something new once a person redeemed themselves again.

Black paint lined the edges, close to where her scratched up iron heart would be if the piece had been complete. Justice, for Mandalore, for herself, for everything they’d been put through since the civil wars.

She had paused then, blinking at the piece, trying to figure out why her clan was emblazoned against the metal, and why The Armorer was presenting it early. “Ragnar created this piece, his first work, as a means to express the individuality and our combination as one people again. Your Owls seem too uniformed, and he’d hoped you would protect yourself with this Beskar, so the others would feel at ease changing their own pieces,” she explained, letting her glove trace the rim on the plate as Bo stared.

“Oh, they’re all allowed to change their armor, absolutely,” The warrior rubbed at her face, before finally reaching out with her hand. “And, I accept, if he, and you, are sure,”

Carefully, The Armorer removed the old breastplate from the fabric that kept them conjoined, and with a little work, the black marred beskar was replaced with the new, gleaming piece. “May I?” She asked finally, and Bo nodded her head slowly.

She was still rigid under The Armorer’s fingers, as the armor was pulled on over her flight suit once more, as she tried to expand her chest with each buckle done, preparing herself for the crushing feeling that would not come. When each piece of her armor had been reattached, Bo’s gaze was caught on the different colors against her chest, hand raising to trace against the many different colors.

“Thank you,” The Mand’alor spoke quietly, letting The Armorer linger behind her, and when strong arms started to wrap around her from behind, Bo let herself sink into the wert retreat, allowing herself to lean against The armored for strength as she focused her breathing, ensuring that unless she found herself in this position, her armor would not still be as compressed as it had been against her skin.

#bo katan kryze #the armorer #bo katan x the armorer #bo katan needs a hug #bo katan gets a hug #the armorer is a rock #the mandalorian #nitearmor #star wars #take off your helmet #it was supposed to be a small Drabble #because my brain was literally just #clawing at the beskar heart #struggling to breathe #and this is what happened #this is why we cant have nice things

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stargazeraldroth · 2 months

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I will never be normal about the family of the First Humans in my Hazbin Hotel AU. I will never be normal about it. I really took this AU and said "Family angst to the MAX". Also this may or may not contain spoilers about Hazbin Hotel, so be warned about that when reading this.

Since we don't know much of anything about Eve in Hazbin Hotel's canon universe, the Eve included in this post is obviously how I imagine her character. Also, there are some major changes to the relationships between some of the characters. For starters, Vaggie and Lute are sisters, but they're also direct creations of Adam's.

Let me explain.

So in this AU, Adam and Eve became a thing shortly after Lilith ran away to be with Lucifer. And in this AU, they were only able to have Cain and Abel before Eve ate the Forbidden Fruit and ultimately died (I might elaborate on the whole Garden of Eden story in another post). But they'd talked about having daughters and Eve was especially excited to have little girls. Clearly, that never ended up happening. So how does this tie into the story? Because Adam made Vaggie and Lute with the idea of them being the daughters he and Eve were never able to have.

(To take this a step further, this AU started as a Reimagine series where I went over how I would've done it all, so there were also name changes. Vaggie and Lute were two characters who got their names changed; Vaggie's name became Evelyn [originally Evangeline but I thought that too long and didn't roll off the tongue as well] and Lute's became Edith, with Vaggie being named after Eve and Lute being named after the Garden of Eden. And if you want even MORE angst with that idea, Adam sometimes called Vaggie "Eve" as a nickname because of how much she reminded him of her. There's nothing romantic there, I just wanna clarify that in case anyone jumps to conclusions. The changed names aren't important to the post, I just wanted to mention this little background fun fact from before I decided to make it a regular AU)

I may not have diddly squat about Cain and Abel in this aside from the fact that they exist(ed), but BOY do I have a lot to say about these four. First, let me just start with the parallels between Eve and Vaggie in this AU:

Both someone Adam swore to himself that he'd protect at all costs

Both fell from grace and are in Hell

Both of them are on the opposing side (for Eve this'll rely on the post I eventually make about the GoE story, but the gist is that she was completely unwilling; Vaggie saw no other way)

Both of them fell in love with demons

Like... Vaggie reminds Adam of Eve so much that sometimes, it physically hurts. In this AU, Vaggie wasn't left to die in Hell, she got attacked and left behind. Adam thought she was dead, which was part of why he pushed to move up the date of the next Extermination and why Lute is so set on revenge, wants to kill ALL demons, etc. And Adam doesn't care about sexuality- he doesn't care if Vaggie's bi, pan, lesbian, ace, etc. In this AU, he only cares because Charlie's a demon (and the daughter of Lucifer, but that's another thing). The way Adam sees it, he's been losing everyone he loves to temptation and sin. He believes he lost Lilith to Lucifer's seduction (even if he was an angel at the time, he eventually became a demon), he lost Eve to both Lilith & Lucifer and the Apple, he lost Abel to Cain's jealousy and wrath, he lost Cain to his inner darkness, he originally thought he lost Vaggie to the demons, and then he thought he lost her to seduction (even though Charlie didn't do anything like that). And this- this is why Adam's both so close to Lute and why he smiles when he dies in this AU. He died believing that he failed everyone he cared about except Lute, even though- in the back of his mind- he told himself he still failed her. Because he wasn't going to be able to make it back to Heaven and stay with her.

Y'all. I don't know WHAT made me decide to focus so much on these four... but this is what I got. This is what happened. They're devouring my brain.

#hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel lute #my heart breaks for this whole family in this AU #especially eve because i feel like her story is very tragic #and adam is meant to be very flawed #but still someone who is trying and he does care #like even though eve's a demon he still loves her and he wanted to see her again #i just #why did i do this to myself #there just needed to be background lore #and this is what happened

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