#No Agreement Yet

[xtruss]

Columbia University has failed to reach an agreement with Students Organizing the Pro-Palestine Encampment, the President has said.

In a statement, Minouche Shafik said "constructive dialogue" was held between academic leaders and students since Wednesday but no agreement has been found.

She added the University "Will Not Divest From The Illegal Regime of the Terrorist War Criminal 🐖 Isra-hell," a key demand by the students.

[doodleswithangie]

more from my au, in which stan and bill have a reluctant agreement to build the portal (x)

bonus thought: they always tie in their card games, because they both know when the other is cheating and when the other is letting them win

[Image description: Fanart of Bill Cipher and Stanley Pines from "Gravity Falls." Alt text is provided and copied below the cut. End ID]

Copied Alt Text

Image one: Stan wears his Mr. Mystery outfit in the Shack, complete with an eyepatch and magic 8-ball cane. Bill nudges him, saying, "Ooh, eyepatch? How flattering!" Stan snarks back, "Can it, cyclops."

Image two: Bill and Stan float in a mindscape similar to Ford's, except they're playing cards on folding chairs and drink Pitt Colas.

Image three: In front of the broken portal, Stan sits on a toolbox with Journal 1 and other documents scattered in front of him. Bill hovers over his shoulder.

End Copied Alt Text

[jetkast]

Sometimes I think about how Jin Ling goes by that instead of Jin Rulan and I just vividly picture his young mistress persona going like "yeah my not uncle was an unaware pining cut sleeve and my mom kind of just enabled it so... juijui and I just try to pretend it didn't happen -- it's cringe af" and I die a little in both grief and hilarity

[azu1as]

Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!

It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.

So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.

The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.

However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.

Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.

He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.

For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.

"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"

The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."

"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"

The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."

The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.

It snowballs from there.

All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.

The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.

Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!

On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.

Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.

Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.

It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.

The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.

And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

%%%

Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.

'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.

"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.

Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."

He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!

"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.

Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—

"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."

—?????

"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.

"Yup. It's going to be great."

"No."

"'No'?"

Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.

...

...Oh no.

"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.

"...Sect Leader?"

Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!

The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.

"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."

Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"

Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.

If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.

And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.

((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))

"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.

But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!

"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"

[blueskittlesart]

what do you think about zora design? about past and current designs? how would you change it? actually!!! what are the zora (and other races) like in your sword of fate au???

got distracted by the second question. look at my little guys:

these are some of the current (working) designs!! from left to right it's sheikah, zora, hylian, goron, and gerudo! these aren't necessarily the average builds/designs for each race but they're the most important character from each race lol. sword of fate takes place really early-on in the timeline, so the culture and separation of races is still kind of loose especially among the humanoid races. the current generation of zora is basically the first generation to call themselves zora and attempt to establish a government or hold any authority alongside the other races of hyrule, and because they're kind of a young race i imagine they're less fishy and more invertebrate-like in this stage, hence my jellyfish princess! (her dad is a giant squid lol.) the sheikah are descendants of the original surface humans, whereas the hylians and gerudo are two seperate sects that both originally came from skyloft. the hylians built a few villages which each have their own distinct vibe while the gerudo took a more nomadic approach and roam the desert in small independently governed groups. The gorons are the most well-established race at this point, having been on the surface a lot longer than basically everyone else, and so they have a much stronger culture and shared identity than a lot of the other races that are still kind of getting their footing.

[god-i-hope-so]

I'm gonna be this person for a minute because the things I read sometimes are just... not that. Some of you really need to talk to elder millenials instead of profiling Tommy based on your very young life experience. Please. The generation gap really shows and you misinterpret everything about him because his behavior of a late 30s/early 40s man doesn't match your less than 25 years old life. And I get it, you do with what you know, it's perfectly normal, but don't project yourself in a story where characters will invevitably be very different from you. Learn to know them instead. And even if you're jealous of Tommy (because I know how it works, you don't fool me), it's not a reason to paint a portrait of him that is nowhere near his canon self and what we see on screen. We're not dramatic teens anymore at this age and details are a lot less important when they're not about really meaningful things, as is life-scale things.

Tommy not wearing perfectly in-theme clothes at the party is nothing. It's a shame, sure, but does it spoil the fun (they end up not having)? Absolutely not. And remember: they just met. It's not like they've known each other for months or years and have high expectations because they have a history together. What is important here? That he showed up or that he wears the right outfit? He showed up while being on call. This is big. Details are details. It's like saying a 6 course meal was horrible because they didn't have the dessert you wanted and had to choose something else. No, the dinner was delicious, shame they didn't have the dessert but it's nothing. You still enjoyed the damn food served.

Creating posts about how Tommy doesn't care about Buck because of this kind of details, and using your personality as a reference to profile Tommy?? This is not how things work. It's not because you can't relate that it's wrong. It's not because it doesn't fit your fic ideas that it's not valid. It's not because it's different that it's not right. You can just say you don't like him for who he is, it's fine! No one is forced to like him. But don't twist the character's personality to fit your narrative. This is not how things work.

And please talk to people. Just, you know, sharing basic life things, in a safe space. It's possible and it's great, for everyone involved.

[randomwritingdrabbles]

Just started rewatching futari wa precure (I had a huuuuuge precure phase when I was a kid and I watched like all the seasons available then) and I was reminded of just how similar miraculous ladybug is to precure. Like legit it is just a magical girl anime but with normal superhero outfits pasted over the top and it got me thinking about how we were fucking robbed of magical girl Adrien.

Like they should have based the outfits on what the user deemed a superhero outfit cus Adrien would be rocking up in frills and thigh high heels while Marinette would rock up in gotham hero grunge.

Like you cannot tell me that lonely baby adrien wasn't an avid consumer of precure and sailor moon but in the same vain, Marinette would have definitely been a western superhero fan with emphasis on the batfam.

Like just imagine:

Adrien: "I run off the power of love and will protect the people of paris with the help of my fairy plagg!"

Marinette, who's favourite show is batman and the only magical girl show she's seen is magi madoka: "w h a t???"

-

Adrien, going through cutesy choreography that is 100% unessesary for his attack: "with the power of light I dispell you!"

Adrien: ✨️disintegrates a man✨️

Marinette: "..."

Marinette: "I am both terrified and amazed..."

(Adrien is upset he doesn't get a beam attack but he will make do by just making his cataclysm as extra as humanly possible)

-

Marinette summons her lucky charm by rummaging through her utility belt, also she also has a gun because she was having a red hood phase when she got the miraculous. It shoots whatever bullets she's feeling like because creation magic bullshit.

They're mostly rubber but whenever hawkmoth shows up they become metal and also explode... Gabriel Agreste is terrified of the both of them and refuses to attend fights in person ever again, after the time that Ladybug almost blew off his leg because he was temporarily blinded by cat noir's petticoat.

[bestworstcase]

Are you worried about Viz taking over RWBY? I’ve heard Kerry is still going to be involved in some capacity but that’s ambiguous. What about the other writers and creatives as well? Works like this are never written/realized by one man, it’s the collective hard work of the group. A lot of the intricacies you’ve teased out of RWBY, and their culmination in the narrative, rely on the same team (or some of them) being involved going forward. Where are you at on this rn?

really seems like the best case scenario honestly – kerry being the showrunner is obv the one taking point on the negotiations but it seems like the rest of the core crew and cast are being kept in the loop at minimum, though i’d bet contracts and production logistics are still being worked out behind the scenes. on the viz side they are clearly REALLY excited about the IP and kerry being involved decision-making for the show’s future is a pretty firm signal of intent to preserve the original vision and direction for the show, plus i would assume keeping the crew and cast together to the greatest degree possible is probably kerry’s biggest priority rn now that the first hurdle of finding rwby a new home has been cleared.

the ambiguity is 100% because nothing is settled yet aside from what’s been announced. it is frankly shocking that they closed the deal on the IP this fast—i know two months feels like a really long time when you’re waiting for news, but corporate acquisitions of any kind are not like picking up milk at a grocery store. just from a strictly financial standpoint everything needs to go through accounting and depending on how viz is structured treasury might have needed to sign off too, so that’s financial projections and budgeting that needs to happen and pass through multiple different layers of approval potentially across two different departments on top of legal and whatever specific considerations other departments may have had; there are a lot of moving pieces that have to be lined up just so. i was really, really confident that rwby would get picked up pretty quickly but if you’d asked me after the shut down announcement i would have told you six months to a year because that’s, in my experience, about how long this sort of thing takes if nobody is dragging their feet.

two months is fuckin wild.

but by the same token, yeah everyone involved with this deal is going to be up to their eyeballs in paperwork and meetings for at least a few more months before we get any concrete new announcements, and nothing is getting announced to the public until it’s settled because you don’t want to be announcing things that aren’t locked in yet. that includes basic stuff like whether the original VAs stay on—there is absolutely no reason to think that, say, lindsay won’t keep their role as ruby, but we are not going to hear that until they’ve signed a contract, which may still be months away. similarly there is no reason to think that viz acquired the IP without every intention to greenlight v10, but we are not going to hear a v10 announcement until all the production logistics and legal and financial decisions have been squared away.

just keep in mind that corporations move like glaciers and the two months between the RT shutdown announcement and viz snapping up both the IP and the showrunner means this is all happening at breakneck speed, suggesting that everyone with decision-making power at viz is incandescently excited to get this show back on the road. it’s in good hands, they’re hustling, we’re probably on track for v10 news sometime this fall.

[smilepilled]

here to spread my bisexual futch (LINK) Pearl Houzuki agenda. she's literally THE bi futch. our McMom in arms!!!!! (and screams)

Longer/elaborate image description available in ALT.

[Image Description: A image of Pearl Houzuki, from the game Splatoon, on top of the bisexual futch flag made by "gendertreyf" on Tumblr. Both the flag and Pearl are rocking the colours peach orange, lemon cream yellow, and vibrant purples. /End of Image Description]

[aashiyancha]

The main farm

[bitchin-beskar]

The Roommate Agreement - Chapter 1

Rating: Mature

Pairing: College!Athlete!Roommate!Paz Vizsla x Fem!Reader (Bunny)

Warnings: Ok, so this chapter has no smut, as we're setting up the story here. However, this is the first chapter in a multi chapter story in which the MAIN THEME is free use, so there will be a LOT of smut. If you're not 18+, dnr/dni. REMINDER: IF YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT FREE USE MEANS, YOU'RE TOO YOUNG TO BE READING THIS FIC. LEAVE AT ONCE. I will say, for this chapter, we do have a male character (not paz) physically abusing the reader, although it is very brief, it could potentially be triggering. Please be aware of this when reading. Other than that, this chapter is relatively tame, but it will ramp up soon.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Oof, ok so I've been meaning to get this posted for awhile, but I've decided to share it tonight especially because I feel like we all deserve a treat after the latest Mandalorian episode drop. So this is for @maybege, @catsnkooks, @tailorvizsla, and anyone else who was personally victimized by the choices made by Filoni and Favreau in the latest episode of the Mandalorian. Have some lovely hurt/comfort and fluff babes, I hope this helps ❤️

You stare down at your phone, more than a little frustrated. Parjai had said he didn’t have any plans other than gaming with some friends online, so there should be no reason for not picking up the phone. But after over ten increasingly urgent text messages and numerous unanswered phone calls and voicemails over the last hour, you have to conceed that he just isn’t going to answer. You look around the party despondently.

Honestly, you hadn’t even really wanted to come, but Mir’a had drug you out, saying that you needed a night out to loosen up a bit. Then she’d gone off and gotten massively drunk, and ended up going home with her on-again-off-again partner, so you were now stuck at a party you didn’t want to be at, where you knew no one, you had no ride home, and your boyfriend wasn’t answering the phone.

Just as you were starting to debate the likelyhood of being able to catch a taxi or Uber this late at night, your phone buzz. You glanced at it, half expecting to see a sheepish text from Parjai, but instead lighting up your phone was a notification from Paz. A little unconscious smile crossed your lips, and you leaned back against the wall, bringing your phone up to see it better as you swiped at the screen to open up your text thread with him.

Instead of a message, he’d sent you a selfie, and you could tell from the photo that he was in his truck, likely just having left a late night practice with the Mudhorns–the hockey team he was the goalie for. His hair looked wet, like he’d just hopped out of the shower, and you could see an old Mythosaurs logo on his teeshirt, the team he’d grown up idolizing. He had an adorably crooked grin on his face, and it was easy to see how he managed to charm damn near everyone he met.

While you were looking at the selfie, a message from him popped up on your screen.

Hey, still awake?

You bit your lip, suddenly thoughtful. If you were remembering right, the hockey rink wasn’t too far from here. Maybe…

Before you could second guess yourself, you tapped on his profile picture and then his phone number, putting your phone up to your ear as you began to move through the throng of bodies towards the outside. The butterflies barely had time to take flight in your belly when Paz’s deep voice was coming through your phone’s speaker and directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“What’s this, a proof of life call?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you said loudly, almost shouting to be heard over the music. “I actually was wondering if you could do me a huuuuuge favor?”

“Is that favor rescuing you from the angry mob you sound like you’ve accidentally joined?”

Your voice was drier than the deserts of Tatooine. “Truly Paz, you’ve missed your calling as a comedian by joining the hockey team. You should be doing stand-up.”

His loud, deep laugh sounded on the other end, and you couldn’t help but smile again. Gods, you’d missed his laugh. You’d missed him.

“I belong on that rink and we both know it.” You snorted at the cocky tone of his voice. “Nah, you know I’d do anything for you. What’cha need rabbit?”

You groaned. “Please, not that stupid nickname again. I had like… one stuffed animal as a kid and suddenly everyone calls me that.”

“You brought the damn thing in the bath with you, what did you think was gonna happen?”

You narrowed your eyes, wishing that somehow Paz could feel your glare through the phone. “Anyways,” you growled, ignoring his chuckles. “I was at a party except my ride left with someone else and now I’m stuck. Is there any way you could give me a ride back to my apartment?”

“Of course,” Paz responded with zero hesitation. “Gimme the address.” As you rattled off the address of the house party, Paz sighed through the phone. “I recognize it. Some of the di’kute freshmen on the team have gotten wasted at parties there and I’ve had to come get them. I’ll be there in five.”

“Thanks, Paz.”

You could almost hear his smile on the other end. “Of course.”

You finished weaving your way through the crowds of drunk, high, and horny college students to step out on the front porch, breathing in a wave of fresh air. The night was clear, and it was only the early days of fall, so it wasn’t too cold yet. You looked up at the stars for a few moments, before you heard the familiar roar of an engine.

Looking down the street, you saw the headlights of Paz’s truck illuminating the otherwise quiet road, and you began making your way down the drive. He pulled to a stop in front of the house, waiting for you to cross in front of the truck and climb in the passenger side. You pulled yourself up and into his truck, buckling in before turning to see him grinning goofily at you.

“What?” You asked, feeling somewhat self-conscious but your cheeks still warming pleasantly under his gaze. “Do I have something on my face?”

His grin softened, and he reached out, almost subconsciously, and brushed the pads of his fingers over your cheek. “Nah,” he said, eyes still boring into yours. “Jus’ missed you, that’s all. It’s been awhile.”

You smiled back, soft too but a little self-deprecating. The both of you were well aware of just why it had been so long since you’d seen each other in person. Parjai was almost impossible to deal with whenever he simply heard Paz’s name, let alone if he knew you’d seen him or tried to hang out with him. It had seemed simpler at the time to distance yourself from Paz, something your parents and Parjai had encouraged, but now it just made you sad. At least he didn’t seem to hold it against you.

Paz sat back in his seat and re-started the engine, pulling away from the curb and beginning to drive down the darkened roads. You were a good few miles from your place with Parjai, and you couldn’t deny that you were excited to simply get to spend this little bit of time with him. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before you opened your mouth, wanting to make the most of seeing him and actually talk to him.

“How’s the team doing?”

He lit up, his grin huge and unrestrained. It triggered a grin of your own, always so happy to see Paz get excited about the sport he loved.

“They’re good! Din’s finally getting situated in left defence. He’s been working really hard at it, he’s a damn good defender, he just had some trouble believing it. Tua and Kua are a good pair too, they both made starter positions this year.”

You thought for a second. “The Skirata twins, right?”

“Yeah, that’s them. They’re assholes, but good players.”

You racked your brain trying to think of the other players you knew about on the team. With it being a new school year, there were some faces you didn’t quite know yet. “What about the other goalie position? Is Kye’ma still the secondary?”

Paz guwaffed loudly. “No! He got himself removed from the team ‘cause his grades were slipping too much.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Kye’ma Reau had been a vicious player, and while he was good at the sport, he was a little too bloodthirsty. He’d always been sore that Paz was the starting goalie and not him, and you were honestly starting to get a little worried about the possibility of him staging an “accident” for Paz, so you were glad he was no longer in the picture.

“Who replaced him?”

“Some freshman kid, Uliik Gedyc. Wouldn’t know it just by looking at him though. Kid’s built like a fucking tank.”

You snickered at the mental image. You remembered what Paz looked like as a freshman in college, and you wouldn’t exactly describe his physique at the time as ‘tank-like.’ Although, that wasn’t to say he hadn’t been fit. Paz had been fit since he’d discovered gyms around the same time as puberty, and the muscle mass only grew with every year.

Not that you’d noticed.

All too soon, you realized that you were turning onto your street. You slumped slightly in your seat, sad that your time with Paz was coming to an end. You resolved to try and fix that, and to attempt to spend more time with him. Granted it was senior year, and both of you were set to graduate, and he had the hockey team to think about too, but you were tired of shunning your best friend to keep your boyfriend happy.

As Paz pulled into the driveway of the place you shared with Parjai, you were surprised to see Parjai storming out the front door, his face twisted in fury. You quickly unbuckled and practically threw yourself out of the truck, not hearing Paz call after you, as you were worried something was wrong.

Before you could get any words out, Parjai reached you and gripped your arm tightly, causing you to cry out in shock and a little bit of pain.

“What the fuck are you doing with him?”

You blinked at the furious words being thrown in your face. “Him-you mean Paz? He gave me a ride home because you didn’t-”

“Don’t fucking blame me for you being a slut.” He growled, shaking you hard. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you? You’re not allowed to see him, not only is he a goddamn exile, but you’re mine, you hear me? I won’t be made a fool of by my girlfriend just whoring herself out to whoever fucking asks!”

You jerked away, ripping your arm from his grasp. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it turned your stomach, although not as much as the hateful words he spewed.

“I’m not fucking Paz, Parjai,” you said, not yelling but the anger still clear in your voice. “I’ve told you before, he’s just a friend. I’ve known him for years, there’s nothing wrong with me wanting to spend a little time with him! Besides, you weren’t answering! What was I supposed to do?”

“You fucking slut!”

Suddenly, blooming pain spread across your cheek, and you fell back in shock, your body colliding with the door of Paz’s truck and your head cracking against the glass from the force of what had been Parjai’s hand clocking you across the face.

You slowly raised a hand to your cheek, fingers shaking as they brushed the skin even as you winced from the pain. Tears filled your eyes and you turned your head back to look at your still-furious boyfriend. He was glaring hatefully at you, even though he was swaying on his feet, likely from the intoxication.

He opened his mouth, probably to spew more vitriol, when abruptly, faster than your brain was able to register, a fist shot out and punched Parjai square in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.

You blinked dumbly at your boyfriend-no, ex-boyfriend now, like hell were you gonna stay with that asshole-lying prone on the lawn, groaning in pain. Your brain felt like it was swimming through molasses, unable to process events in real time. As you were trying to put together what exactly just happened, suddenly Paz was standing in front of you, cupping your face in his hands as frantic eyes roved over you.

You just stood there, watching as his mouth moved, but unable to hear anything over the rushing of blood in your ears. He let one hand fall to your shoulder while the other came up to gently prod at the swelling on your face of what was likely to be a nasty black eye. He shook your shoulder, his face growing more concerned when suddenly there was a popping noise and you could hear clearly again.

The abrupt silence startled you and you jumped slightly. Paz raised his hands quickly off your body, taking a half step back so he wasn’t right in your space, but your panicking mind decided that was the absolute worst possible outcome, so you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest. The tentative grasp of control that you’d had simply shattered, and you began to sob brokenly into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

Paz’s arms came up around you, one banding around your back while the other came up to cradle your head against his chest. You twisted your fingers in his sweatshirt, anchoring yourself to him as you only cried harder.

His chest rumbled underneath you, and you faintly registered that he was whispering soft words of endearment, trying his best to soothe you. You sniffled and burrowed deeper, almost like if you tried hard enough, you could climb inside his chest where it was safe and never leave.

You could feel his lips pressing against the top of your head, leaving gentle kisses in the breaks between his words. He held you like something precious, like something to be treasured, and you found yourself never wanting to leave his embrace.

Unfortunately, Paz seemed to have different plans. He slowly pulled you away from where you’d been buried in his sweatshirt, although he kept his arms secure around you. He tilted your head up with a crooked finger under your chin, his gaze suddenly very serious.

“You’re not staying here, sweetheart. Get in the truck. I’m gonna run in and grab you a few things, and then we’re leaving.”

You blinked up at him, lashes clumped together with tears. You were sure you likely looked a mess, but all you could focus on was Paz’s arm around you and his fingers brushing your jaw. He sighed softly, seemingly realizing that you were not in a good frame of mind to be doing any critical thinking. He opened up the passenger door and bodily lifted you up, ignoring your quiet squeak of surprise as he set you in the passenger seat.

“Get buckled, I’m just gonna grab some of your things. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before letting his own forehead gently touch yours in the sweetest mirshmure’cya you’d ever recieved, bringing new tears to your eyes. He stepped back and shut the door, before quickly stepping over Parjai and walking into the house. You buckled in a daze, still reeling from how quickly things had changed. One second you’d been happily chatting with Paz about his hockey team, the next your boyfriend was punching you in the face.

You pulled down the visor on the passenger side and flipped open the mirror, wincing at your reflection. Already there was the starting of some swelling around your eye, and you could tell it was going to bruise. It was throbbing and aching, and you poked at the skin cautiously, nose scrunching up at the uncomfortable sensation. You were going to end up with a black eye for sure.

You see Paz coming back out of the front door, a duffle bag you recognize from your closet in hand, stuffed full of whatever Paz had deemed important enough for him to grab. He deftly stepped over Parjai, who was still lying on the ground, rolling around in pain as he clutched at his jaw. Paz didn’t even spare him a glance, instead quickly making his way to the driver’s side of the truck. He jerked open the door and climbed in, reaching back to set the duffle down on the floor behind his seat.

He buckled, and looked over at you, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he took in the darkening bruise over your eye and the dried tear tracks on your face. He looked like he wanted to reach out to touch you, but restrained himself.

“Are you buckled, sweetheart?” You simply nodded, the lump in your throat too large to speak around. “Good. Let’s go home.”

You didn’t say anything, but you could tell Paz wasn’t really looking for a response either. He backed out of the driveway, probably a little faster than he should’ve, but it was late at night and it wasn’t like it was likely for anyone to be out for him to run into.

As he drove down the dark streets, navigating towards his apartment by memory, you looked out the window, eyes not really focusing on any one thing as the scenery flew by. You felt almost like you were having an out of body experience, like your limbs were too heavy for you to move on your own. Truly, you were about one step away from a complete breakdown. You didn’t realize you were twisting your hands in your lap until one of Paz’s hands settled on top of both of yours, stilling the anxious movement. You looked over, to see him still focused on the road, but a worried frown decorating his face. Turning one of your hands over, you pressed your palm against Paz’s, linking your fingers together and letting his touch ground you.

It wasn’t a long drive to Paz’s place, and soon enough, he was pulling up in front of his building. He didn’t waste time, shutting off his truck and sliding his hand out of yours so he could hop out. You began to undo your buckle, but before you could open the door, Paz was already there, ready to help you out of the truck. The concerned look on his face broke something inside you, and you felt tears begin to fill your eyes again.

Paz didn’t hesitate to pull you out of the truck and into his arms, your duffel already slung over his shoulder so both of his arms were free to hold you. You clung to him clumsily, throwing your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist as one of his arms wrapped around your torso to hold you tightly against him. Burying your face in his neck, you let the tears fall, trusting Paz to get you inside safely.

He didn’t say anything as he carried you into his apartment, and you didn’t look up from the safety of his neck until he was setting you down on a soft mattress. You looked around, slightly dazed as you realized you were in his bedroom. You’d seen glimpses of the space through pictures he’d sent you, but you’d never actually been in his bedroom.

A careful hand on your jaw caught your attention, and Paz gently lifted your head, turning it from side to side as he studied the swelling and darkening skin around your eye. His thumb brushed your cheek as his eyes found yours. “Lemme go grab something for you to ice that shiner with, ok?” You nodded, watching as he left the bedroom, moving down to where you were pretty sure his kitchen was.

While he was gone, you took a moment to take in his bedroom, the one place that was purely, personally, Paz. There weren’t a whole lot of decorations, but you weren’t expecting there to be. Paz had always been rather minimalistic by nature. He had some trophies and framed awards from various hockey leagues and games he’d won, some assorted sports paraphernalia in the corner by his closet, a soft grey rug underneath the king-sized bed which was adorned with soft white sheets and a light grey duvet, two nightstands with matching lamps, and on the far wall was a collage of pictures. As you looked at them, you realized most of them were pictures of the two of you. Some were clearly from when you were kids, but some were obviously more recent, although you realized with a pang that none of the photos were more recent than four years ago, around when you’d started to distance yourself because of Parjai.

It hit you then just how much of an idiot you’d been. You’d wasted so much time with someone who clearly didn’t trust or love you in the same way you’d loved him, especially considering how he’d acted tonight. You hadn’t realized Parjai’s insecurities ran quite that deep, but looking back it was painfully clear just how much he’d hated Paz Vizsla.

You were pulled from your self-deprecating thoughts by Paz returning, an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel clutched tightly in one hand. His eyes met yours, and some of the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders seemed to melt away as he reassured himself seeing that you were safe. He came forward to kneel at the side of the bed where you were perched. With gentle hands, he pressed the ice pack over the swelling on your face, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw as you tried to shy away from the sudden shock of cold.

“Gotta let the ice do it’s job, rabbit,” he murmured. “We’ve gotta get that swelling down.”

You winced, but nonetheless held still, letting Paz do his thing. Maker only knows how many, many bumps, bruises, broken bones and black eyes he’d suffered over the years, not just from hockey but his uncanny ability to always get into fights. You’d even helped him with some of the more painful injuries.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. Your eyes had fluttered shut, just basking in the soft attention and careful ministrations Paz was bestowing upon you. Paz kept one hand on the ice pack pressed gently over your eye, the other still cupping the side of your face, his thumb softly stroking your cheekbone. After awhile, Paz slowly took the ice pack away, and you opened your eyes to see him critically looking over your face. He seemed to be satisfied with the state of your face where Parjai had smacked you, and he sat back slightly on his heels.

“How does that feel, hmm?”

“Better.”

Silence descended again, but this time there was a tension floating in the air. It felt like Paz was just waiting for something to happen, but you didn’t know what he’d be waiting for. You were fine, absolutely fine. Sure, your partner of over three years had just assaulted you out of the blue, but honestly, you were-

“Rabbit?”

The sound of Paz’s voice, thick with worry and concern and love is what broke the dam. Your eyes filled with tears, and your breath hitched as you fought to not burst into sobs. You met Paz’s gaze, and you saw nothing but love and understanding.

“Oh, c’mere love,” he murmured, his hands gently tugging you off the bed and into his lap. That was the last straw, and you began to sob, deep and heartbroken sounds wrenching their way out of your throat as you clawed at his back, as though you could somehow pull him even closer to you. “That’s it, let it all out.”

“W-W-Why, Paz?” you cried, voice trembling as you tried to force the words out. “I-I loved him… w-why wou-would he–?” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your voice breaking as you sobbed harder. Paz’s arms were tight around you, holding you securely against his chest. His lips were pressed to your head, and the rumbling in his chest told you he was attempting to make soothing noises although you were unable to actually hear them over the sounds of your cries.

As your sobs began to slow you clutched tighter to Paz, suddenly afraid that he’d let you go now that you weren’t crying your eyes out. But to your great relief, he didn’t, merely sliding his arms more securely around you and pressing you closer against his chest.

“What am I gonna do?” You said, voice barely more than a whisper pressed against the fabric of his shirt. Even as you said the words, you didn’t really fully realize what they meant until they’d left your mouth. You pulled your head back to look at Paz with wide, teary eyes. “T-That’s my home, Paz, but he’s not gonna leave, I know he isn’t, and it’s not like my parents are gonna be any help cause they love him and are just gonna say I’m making this up for attention and-”

“Breathe.”

The order startled you out of the sprial you’d begun to descend into, and you locked eyes with Paz, mouth snapping shut at the commanding tone of his voice.

“I’ll tell you what you’re gonna do, rabbit. You’re gonna stay right here, with me. There’ll be a blizzard on Tatooine before I let you go back to that hut’uun di’kut. He doesn’t deserve you, and I refuse to let you delude yourself into thinking that any of the actions he took tonight are in any way acceptable.”

His stare was piercing, and you found yourself unable to look away, even as you listened to what he was saying. You opened your mouth, about to insist that you couldn’t just intrude on Paz and his home like that, but a finger pressed to your lips stopped you.

“Uh uh, I’m not finished.” Paz waited for you to acknowledge his words before he continued. “I’ve got more than enough space, and I don’t want him or your family trying to manipulate you into going back to him. You deserve better, so much better, than that.”

Tears began to fill your eyes, but for far different reasons this time. Paz wasn’t the kind of person to say things like this openly, not the type to blatantly lay his feelings out for all to see, but he was doing it for you.

“Y-You’ll really do that, Paz?” You asked, trying and mostly succeeding to prevent your voice from shaking. “You’ll let me stay?” Some emotion you didn’t recognize passed over his face, but it was quickly gone before you had a chance to analyze it.

“Course I will,” he said softly, voice quiet but no less steady. “You’ve always had a place with me, and you always will.”

Another tear trailed down your cheek. The words that escaped your mouth weren’t something you’d been intending to say, but that didn’t make them any less true.

“Love you, Paz.”

Paz’s eyelashes fluttered, his face going slack for a moment before he was able to focus on you again. “Oh, bunny,” he muttered, drawing you close again even as a shiver ran down your spine at the unexpected variation on his nickname foe you. He was tucking your face back into his neck as his hand stroked soothingly up and down his back. “My sweet bunny rabbit, I love you too. You’ll always have a place with me, no matter what.”

In that moment, in Paz’s arms on the floor of his guest bedroom, you knew things were gonna be alright.

[visceravalentines]

really having a ball with the nicknames benson has for randy in this chapter. so far we've got trouble, spaceman, and party animal ehehe

[tentacledwizard]

national treasure 3… save me national treasure 3…

[melverie]

THERE'S A CONNECTION HERE SOMEWHERE I CAN FEEL IT

[goldensunset]

MARIA!!! YOUR POST WAS ON THE CLOCK APP!!!

Good news, people agree with ur opinion btw..

great………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

[inkiedraws]

I'm so sorry if you've been asked this before, what Program do you use?

And what Brush for said program?

While I'm here, your art is amazing, I look through your account at least once a month cause wow you draw incredibly

Thank you!

I use Photoshop but i'm thinking of switching to something else in the future! (If someone knows of a good alternative to PS let me know!)

Currently i like using the default brushes with the diffuse setting on :)