#they’re just so fucking stupid time to go back to the hut
Text
Human: Oh my god it’s a witch aaaaahhhhh!!
Witch: Why are you screaming??
Human: …Because…aren’t you going to..eat us?
Witch:
Witch: Do you have witches confused with wolves??
#no fandom#witches#humans#made up dialogue by yours truly#witch who never interacts with the human village remembering why that is#they’re just so fucking stupid time to go back to the hut
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
A list of more things that happened in my childhood that totally fucking happened for the ASL brothers:
While they act all grown up and cool they still play games like tag and hide and seek, and usually Luffy being the youngest sucked at it. But once, he snuck into a crate in Dadan’s hut and they spent HOURS looking for him and each time Ace and Sabo left the hut frustrated he would poke his head out and giggle. The bandits were trying so hard not to give it away and Dadan was seconds away from bursting out with laughter.
Oh you can not convince me these fuckers didn’t go sledding all year round. We do know it snows on their home island. But they’re not gonna let the WEATHER tell them when they can and can’t sled. Luffy probably whined and whined till they grabbed some cardboard from the grey terminal found the steepest grassy hill and barrelled themselves straight down it. There were many face plants, grass stains, blood and broken cardboard but they certainly sledded.
I can’t help but think they still went swimming even if Luffy couldn’t, maybe they found something that floats well enough that he can join them in the deep end. But I can totally see them jumping off a certain cliff into the river trying to do flips and screaming. One of them also definitely belly flopped and had to lay still while the other two laughed their asses off. The amount of attempted drownings in those waters would be alarming
On the same topic as cardboard sledding I feel like they would also make other things out of the materials of the grey terminal. Like they found a perfectly good tire wheel and decided that’s their toy for the day. They got Luffy to climb in the centre and rolled him down a hill till he screamed and crashed into a tree. He did throw up but it was still funny. Maybe they made the dingiest saddest excuse for a go-kart to roll down those hills. Either way Luffy was the test dummy and always crashes.
These boys totally just had a day where they decided to just. Dig a hole. Luffy probably started it, Ace and Sabo said that’s stupid but after lunch they found themselves joining. They didn’t know why. It just looked fun. In the end they made a huge pit and not bothered to fill it back in Sabo turned it into a pitfall trap. They had fallen into their own trap too.
They spent a week fighting over a stump. Ace stood on it once and said something and all of a sudden Luffy and Sabo wanted it. It was king of the castle war until Ace and Sabo gave in cause it was suddenly ‘boring.’ they found a cooler stump.
#boys will be boys but it’s these three about to kill someone#if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes suck my digital dick#god I can’t tell if these make me sound Australian. they make me feel Australian#asl brothers#portgas d ace#luffy#monkey d. luffy#one piece sabo#one piece#one piece headcanons#headcanon#I have a bunch of others but like. they fit to more of a modern au#my childhood was perfectly fine thanks#and I was what one would call an INSIDE kid#rambles
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
What waits in the woods part 1
There’s something terrifying about flickering campfire lights.
Or maybe that’s just Steve, because no one else seems to care.
“Lighten up,” Robin insists, jabbing an elbow into Steve’s side. He winces and shimmies along the bench away from her.
“It’s creepy,” Steve insists, sulkily. He looks out at the long line of trees next to their campsite and tries to forget about every ‘crazed whack job hunts kids in the woods’ horror film plotline that he’s ever seen. Robin rolls her eyes and bites down on a marshmallow.
“You do realize that you came to be a camp counselor, right?” she says dryly, mouth gummed up by hot goo. “And that there was a distinct possibility of there being woods, trees, and general nature.” Steve looks away from her open mouth and towards their kids, making sure that the little assholes aren’t messing around with fire or something. Angela had tried dropping a worm down the back of El’s dress earlier and Max had responded by kicking her in the shins. But everything is quiet now, the kids in a stupor after hot dogs and chocolate and are now content to watch the dancing flames.
“I thought we’d stay at camp, not trek half a mile out into the woods to sit out in the dark around a campfire,” Steve hisses. Robin wearily passes him his own marshmallow, possibly hoping it’ll stop him from talking.
“It’s fine. Really fine…hey, Hop?” she calls out, spotting the camp owner passing by with an armful of logs for the fire. “There’s no legends about wandering murderers or curses around here, right?”
“Not recently!” he says, without stopping. Robin glares at his departing back.
“What does he mean by ‘recently’?” Steve asks warily and Heather Holloway leans over from the bench one over. Her long dark hair falls over her large gold hoops, an accessory she’s not supposed to wear when she’s sitting by the pool, but that somehow make their way into her ears every evening anyway. She went to this camp as a child and knows every trick - the place on the dock where it creaks, the patch of poison ivy by the back of the Art hut, how to get the fresh doughnuts right after they’re put out.
“He means that there was a murder here, like twenty years ago,” she says, with an excited glitter in her dark brown eyes. “A little girl in the woods. Her family used to own this land, before they sold it for the camp.” Nancy leans forward from the other side of Robin, and Steve can tell from her face that something has caught her reporter’s interest.
“You mean the Creels?” she asks curiously. Steve frowns, struggling to place where he’s heard the name before.
“Creel?” Robin pipes up, licking marshmallow off her fingers.. “Like Henry Creel?”
Oh. Several mornings, when his kids have had early swim time, Steve has seen clear across the lake to the large, imposing house that sits on the other side. A towering old mansion, with shuttered windows, a tower to the south side of the building and a long porch that runs around the house, it's a striking image to see rising out of the fog on an early morning. More than once, Steve has spotted a man with blonde hair sitting on the front steps, holding a coffee mug. He waves sometimes, if he sees them looking. Steve’s never really wondered before how he came to live out in that house all alone. Now he knows.
“Shit,” Steve says. “His sister?” Heather nods.
“She was only eight at the time. I think Henry was maybe ten? Eleven? Really sick stuff. Like whoever did it stabbed her so viciously that her hand was basically severed at the wrist. The first stab to her heart killed her and the murderer just kept going until she was full of holes.”
Robin makes a face and drops the rest of her marshmallow to the ground.
“Fucking mental,” Heather continues, shaking her head. “My aunt lived around here back then. Said it screwed the whole family up. They arrested some local boy for it. Apparently, they found the knife hidden in his book bag.”
“That’s a stupid place to hide a murder weapon,” Nancy points out, wrinkling up her tiny nose in confusion. There’s an intense look on her face that says the wheels are turning away, looking for angles, an idea. Give her a microfiche and a notebook and she’ll have drafted up a rough article inside the hour.
“No one said killers had to be smart,” Heather says, with a shrug. “I’m going to get another coke. Anyone need anything?”
Robin asks for one too but Nancy and Steve both shake their heads. Nancy is still thinking and Steve’s dinner is sitting rather uneasily in his belly. He doesn’t like this.
“What happened to the Creels?” he asks aloud, so both girls look up at him. “Henry’s parents. I’ve never seen them.”
“Maybe they don’t live there anymore?” Robin suggests, rather sensibly. “Maybe they live in a home, or they just didn’t want to live near where their daughter died.”
“Maybe they’re dead,” Nancy says, voicing the one idea that they all weren’t entirely willing to say.
“Yeah,” Steve says, looking across the line of trees. This little clearing has been used by the camp for twelve years now, since Starcourt opened. Every summer, everyone in the camp eventually takes a trip out here, one year group a week, to eat junk food and watch the stars and tell stories. It’s the turn of the tree-themed name cabins - the thirteen to fourteen year olds - which means that Steve and his friends have to come too, to keep watch over the brats. Aspen, Rowan, Oak, Briar, Willow and Ash. Steve’s Aspen. Robin is Briar.
Something soft pelts Steve dead in the back of the head and he turns, reaching a hand up to inspect the back of his head. There’s some powdered sugar clinging to a few strands of hair.
“Did he just throw a marshmallow at you?” Nancy asks, sounding scandalized. Billy Hargrove sticks out his tongue when he sees her looking. The lifeguard is still wearing his bright red pool shorts, and flashing a toned bare belly in his cropped top, a fact that has not escaped just about every female counselor here.
Steve hopes he gets fucking pneumonia.
“Yep,” Steve says, looking down. A bright pink marshmallow lies in the grass just behind their bench. “Good shot.”
“Steve,” Nancy says, reproachfully. “Watch my kids.” She gets up from the bench and deftly scoops up the marshmallow as she passes.
“I think she’s going to give it back to him,” Robin comments, watching Nancy storm off to Billy’s table, ignoring the heckling of Jason, Tommy and their ilk. She means to lob it at Billy and no one will stop her.
Steve twists back around to face the fire again, unable to look at Billy Hargrove any longer. The boy is an absolute asshole ninety percent of the time.
It’s the other ten percent that’s becoming a bit of a problem.
“He’s pulling your pigtails,” Robin says quietly, tossing a pine-cone onto the crackling fire, even though Hop has repeatedly told her not to.
“He’s a dick,” Steve responds, because the only way he won’t fall completely in love with Billy is by constantly reminding himself of this fact. “He’s arrogant and vain and smokes too much in front of the kids and…”
“You love him, you wanna kiss him,” Robin sing-songs, before a yawn swallows the rest of her words. She drops her head onto Steve’s shoulder, the sugar crash finally kicking in. Everyone is flagging and it won’t be long before they pack up and trek back through the woods to camp.
“This is nice,” Robin mumbles sleepily. Steve sighs, still not entirely sold on the whole premise. But there is something magical about the flickering flames, the full moon hanging overhead. He rests his head on her’s, and wraps an arm around her back to stop her falling backwards when she inevitably drops off to sleep right where she is.
“Yeah,” Steve reluctantly agrees. “This is nice.”
#harringroveweek#harringrove week 2022#prompt: campfire#Day 5#part 1 of 2#part 2 will be posted as part of Hellcheer week#it's another fic I want to add to#billy hargrove#Steve Harrington#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#steve is right to be suspicious#genre savvy steve is my favourite#see part 2 for more#eventual hellcheer#harringrove
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
TSB Plays Legends Arceus Part 33
.....Okay that’s some heavy words of wisdom. Good bye Cyllene. I left a Wurmple in your desk drawer as a gift.
We take a moment for a brief intermission.
....What....
In the FUCKERY is that?
Fucking CHRIST.
(I did end up catching it because that was just so fucking cool and such an interesting detail the game and the Magikarp lore in general.)
BACK TO OUR DAILY PROVIDED NONSENSE.
....I caught a Garyados. I....It was flying 90ft in the air. It was so SICK.
I can see, I have EYES.
I have been made aware, tiny cowboy.
What are you implying, Cowboy-I’ve been trying to help with this bullshit. Maybe YOU should do something for once.
That’s WHAT I THOUGHT.
Irida is gonna be in a difficult position regardless.
....Do you at least have a GUN I could borrow?
Yeah provided another garyados doesn’t fucking yeet itself into the sky.
YEAH WE GET IT, SKY SCARY.
Lady, I’ve already got anxiety over this shit in general, you’re not HELPING.
Well Kamando decided to BLAME me in regards to this because it’s just easy and convenient to peg the outsider with the blame.
YEAH CAUSE I DON’T HAVE AN ANSWER. I’VE RUN OUT OF ANSWERS. I KNOW AS MUCH AS YOU FUCKERs.
NOPE. Xenophobia got too thick for me. I live outside now. I’m off the grid. I shredded my credit cards.
*inhales* YEAH I FIGURED. Nobody wants to touch the dirty outsider.
YEAH. I FIGURED. Tell Melli I put a Wurmple in his hut. I put a lot of wurmples in a lot of people’s places of rest-it’s gonna make for an INTERESTING spring when they pupate.
Time also causes wounds to decay and rot when untreated.
*sigh.*
This is fucking bullshit.
I wanna go home. I was supposed to watch Stranger Things Season 4. Our Flag Means Death just got renewed. They just released footage of LECHONK. My skin looks terrible, I haven’t had a proper bath in ages cause soap is just fucking LYE and harsh as fuck, I’m TIRED of potato mochi
This is stupid. Really really stupid.
What is SCREAMING at me, I am LAMENTING.
Ah.
BABY.
You’re a baby.....
I like you baby.
You’re a good baby, you’re not a hateful weird xenophobe who is gonna blame me for this shit.
You’re probably colorblind and you don’t even NOTICE the sky going all pixely and RED.
Okay bye bye baby, I love you sweetie awww looket them.
Shinx are always so cute. No wonder they’re Sinnoh’s top ranked pokemon pet.
....I miss my old pokemon.
Shit, I hope someone’s FEEDING ‘em. And someone at least is giving Atari his meds. Because uh. Those things don’t go in the MOUTH and he needs a towel hood and 3 people preferably ONE with a VET Doctorate to admister ‘em.
Oh GREAT.
It’s the end of the WORLD and I’m somehow STUCK WITH YOU. God, not even BEEDLE from BOTW doesn’t hound and follow me around like you do.
And I was looking to NOT be found by you. I NEVER want to be found by you, you weirdo.
I have done. ZERO trade with you and your merchant guild. Like. Actual literal ZERO. I pushed all my time and money into pokeballs because I go thru shit like tylenonal on my period.
AH. So you heard Kamando is fucking crazy blaming me.
I get it, you’re a GOSSIP hound.
.....I don’t like how you’re TALKING to me like this, it makes it sound like you’re trying corral me into a weird situational living arrangement with you that I am NOT into.
Don’t bother, I plan to just fuck off the Coastland where there’s a ship wreck. I plan to make a raft and make my way to Galar, thank you very much.
What part of ‘please go away’ translates to ‘please-continue BOTHERING me.’
I am NOT A MAREEP. Don’t HERD me places, I HATE that.
AND YET IM NOT BEGGING NOR CHOOSING, I JUST WANT YOU TO LEAVE, WEIRDO.
Oop.
H....Hewwo?
Cog...Cogita?
Volo please introduce me to your 10 superior.
Mommy-SORRY.
Mommy-SORRY.
MOMMY-GODDAMIT.
-inahles-
Ma’m.
49 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Final Confessional
Mentions: Celeste, Juni, Xavier, Seb, Riley, and Emma
“Emmie, you know I was wondering if we’d ever see you in here again,” the producer said as he handed Emmie the mic and she begrudgingly put it on. She had been trying to avoid the last confessional, to see if she could get off the island without doing one. And yet, one of the producers had to find her right before she was about to eat and then drag her in before she had even had a bite of her sandwich.
Rude.
“Well as you were threatening to deprive me of food again, I don’t think that I had much of a choice, did I Chad?” Emmie grumbled as she slouched in the chair.
“You know, I’ve started getting used to all of you calling me that,” the blonde producer said with a smile.
“Really? You had to go and ruin it? You couldn’t have waited until we were about to leave? Because now I have to go and think of an even more annoying name for you. Like I’d say Fabio, but that’s entirely too cliché.”
“Or,” Louis said, making sure that the camera was rolling, “You could actually start answering our questions.”
“Mmhmm, what’s the fun in that?” Emmie deadpanned, giving the producer one of her signature glares.
“Emmie, you do realize if you ever go on Survivor you’re going to have to do so many more confessionals than you’ve done here, right?”
“Of course,” she shrugged, “but at least in those I would be talking about strategy and not my pathetic excuse of a love life.” The moment that Emmie said the words she winced, it had just come out, and she had hoped that she would go into this without giving them any material they could use.
Stupid stomach making her brain short circuit. Stupid producers for not letting her have her sandwich before she walked into the hut.
“Still not over Sadhbh? Or is there a recent development that we don’t know about?” Chad asked with a smirk.
“Shut up, you have this place Big Brother’ed, book not TV show, and you’d fucking know if there was a new development. AKA there’s not, and I’m leaving single,” Emmie said, rolling her eyes, “which despite what all of you and the media tell the world, that’s not a bad thing.”
“And you didn’t answer my first question,” the producer pointed out.
“Listen, Sadhbh got a fucking amazing opportunity that she would have been an idiot to turn down. Getting your doctorate at Oxford? That’s just something that you don’t turn down. And if you want to get technical, we were together for three days before we went home and she got the news,” Emmie shrugged, “like I was in no position to ask her to stay, and I couldn’t go with her. Moving to the UK just isn’t in the cards for me. So yeah, it fucking sucked, and yeah I was hurt and I took it out on everyone. But that was also like two...three...I don’t know how long we’ve fucking been here, months ago. So yeah, I’m over it.”
“So about that taking it out on everyone, what...” Chad started, before he was interrupted.
“Yeah, I’m not talking about that, I’ve apologized to everyone I need to. Moving on,” Emmie snapped, leaving no chance of her changing her mind.
“Alright.......what about your plans for after the show? Anyone that you want to keep in touch with?”
“I mean, just going back to the store, doing my thing, like normal,” Emmie shrugged. It really wasn’t that great of a plan, and to be honest, in a way she wasn’t excited for it. The store really wasn’t what she was passionate about, but someone had to make sure that it stayed open. And from the way that it seemed it had to be her. “And like I’m hoping to stay in touch with Celeste, it’s not every day that you get to know your favorite author. Then Juni, even with me fucking up there, they’re an amazing person. And Xavier, Seb, and Riley are all like my brothers now. Like they’re more family than my actual family is. And Emma, I guess she’s cool, but I definitely don’t think that we got the time to really get to know each other here.”
The look on the man’s face made Emmie uneasy, like he was going to press more into what she said about Emma. And while there was still the slight flutter in her stomach whenever she talked about the other, that was not going to be something that she talked about. Especially since she was certain that the woman didn’t feel the same.
“Look I gave you plenty of information, can we be done here? Or are you going to keep interrupting my chances at eating my perfectly good sandwich?”
“I guess you can be done Emmie,” the blonde sighed, as Emmie almost immediately got the mic off of her and handed it to him.
“Great, see you later Kyle,” she said, venom seeming to drip off of the name that Emmie was sure belonged to 75% of frat boys everywhere.
“Kyle?”
“It’s your new name. And you can fucking deal with it until we leave,” Emmie said, giving him a faux-innocent smile before she walked out of the door.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I Had This Stupid Idea
(and by stupid, I mean stupid) to replay House of Ashes and ignore EVERY SINGLE QTE BUTTON, AIM SCREEN, ‘BETRAY OR LEAVE’ TYPE CHOICE, and just let nature take its chaotic course – but on top of that to also select ‘SAY NOTHING’ for every single conversation option.
Why? I have no idea. But I’m glad I did.
If you’d like to see the results of this experiment, please read on! If you’d rather not be subject to such time-consuming randomness or maybe you’re even on the same wavelength and would like to try it for yourself, please don’t read because there will be very detailed spoilers! I just wanted to share in case anyone else is curious what happens for things they haven’t experienced yet when trying to save everybody (and some of these surprised me) but also because I don’t think anyone in their right mind would have picked ‘SAY NOTHING’ for every option and may be curious how chaotic that actually is.
LONG POST, proceed with time on your hands.
I didn’t think it would alter anything significant for the prologue bit but it was actually interesting. Balathu is wounded by the female captive because he doesn’t fight back, refuses to kill her so the guard does it instead. King is very disappointed, much sad. BUT I thought an interesting detail was the fact that he’s injured on his arm means later you don’t even have the QTE option to defend yourself as him against the creature, the creature just gets you.
The ‘SAY NOTHING’ option inevitably meant A LOT of awkward silent staring and it’s hilarious, but the best bit was this from Eric’s arrival through the briefing with him just silently staring everyone down and everyone like –
But even funnier because you’d think this meant Jason didn’t like him but he says ‘yeah nice guy’. Maybe it’s because he likes men who ‘give their mouth some rest’.
Bonus:
Rachel: *says nothing*
Nick: Say no more.
If Eric says nothing, the default option is no air support.
Salim saying nothing to his neighbour and putting the phone down on her was hilarious.
The raid on the huts was VERY interesting in regard to how you usually play it with Jason when obviously he usually takes control.
Nick: Awaiting orders
Jason: *says nothing*
Nick: LIEUTENANT KOLCHEK
(the way Nick shouts this did something to me, I don’t know why)
*fuck it I’ll do it myself* Nick then proceeds to take charge and give orders to take it slow on the raid.
When everything is settled, Nick then says to Jason, ‘What the fuck happened back there? You hesitated. Were you thinking about the checkpoint?’
Jason says, ‘No’ and walks off. Much brooding.
Then comes the attack by the Iraqis. Merwin uses the WP (which had been brought along after Eric *said nothing* as to whether to bring it) after Jason *says nothing* about whether to use it.
Jason then proceeds to fall over EVERYTHING during that usually bad ass moment of him assault-coursing it through to cover. So Joey gets shot before Nick can get to him. Merwin sees this and screams ‘Joey’ and goes ape shit with another shot of WP. The way Merwin shouts Joey hurt me.
So this next one really took me by surprise because I thought Salim shouting ‘what the hell do you want’ and laughing like a maniac during his first encounter with the vampire was the only option, but apparently not! If Salim trips over everything when he’s running away, when he turns, he gets down on his knees and prays to Allah. When the truck falls on it, he doesn’t laugh, he says, ‘Merciful Allah’ in a relieved voice.
Bonus:
(Eric professing his love for Rachel by the generator)
Rachel: *says nothing*
Eric: Okay well this is a little awkward
When the creature is first chasing Jason and Nick through the tunnels when they’re carrying Merwin, when Jason doesn’t shoot Nick does some really weird Frodo FlopTM and starts screaming? I’m imagining it’s because the vampire did that amazing silhouette moment of standing infront of them and it was a ‘MY SWEET JESUS IN HEAVEN’ moment for Nick.
The default choice if you don’t click is to go through that tunnel pile rather than around when carrying Merwin. When Jason doesn’t fight back he gets flung up against the wall leading to Merwin starting to shoot in defence… AND THEN HE GETS DECAPITATED.
I had heard in legend that there was a ‘Merwin gets decapitated option’ but I had NO CLUE how to get it, but here we are – that’s how. RIP Yo Moma Jokes.
The scene where Rachel and Eric are creeping away from Dar, Dar hears them when Eric knocks a rock so he follows. Dar then shoots Eric while he’s clinging onto the rope – Eric says ‘Rachel’ with his dying breath before she falls and he falls and gets impaled. Shot AND impaled. Tough day for the colonel, but this death particularly broke me because I’ve never had that one before.
During the sequence that Salim pulls the truck off the vampire, he misses the epic leap and is hanging on for dear life – the vampire graciously helps him by leaping over and then grabbing his head to hurl him back. Salim gets the Metal PipeTM but gets tackled. The American soldiers arrive early to shoot the creature and Salim flees. This also means that he doesn’t discover the creature’s weakness to sunlight during this bit.
A little detail: Nick discovers Joey’s crucifix alongside the med kit and says ‘Please god let him be all right’.
Both Jason and Nick get wounded during the Dar ambush scene when he hurls the grenade.
During Nick and Salim’s first vampire fight bonding scene, Nick makes a noise resulting in the creature noticing them. It attacks Nick and he shouts, ‘Please please help me.’ Jason arrives early and shoots the creature but it gets away. Salim is already spotted so they all pull out their guns, but Salim surrenders like good boi.
A little detail: Vampire Joey punches Jason in the face when Jason doesn’t fight back, and I don’t know why but that’s so funny to me.
Bonus:
Clarice: Giving me the silent treatment, huh?
Rachel: *says nothing*
The default result at the chasm was also that Rachel abandons Clarice.
While Jason and Nick are trying to get the transmitter to work, Dar rescues Salim. Jason gets shot when Nick fails to provide cover for their flank as well as tripping over everything and he shouts, ‘WHERE THE FUCK WAS MY COVER, SERGEANT?’
Jason, who has been shot and injured twice on the same shoulder by this point: ‘PUT YOUR SHOULDER INTO IT’ as he pushes against a door. Poor Jason.
During the standoff in the main temple (where the machine gun is that Rachel has the option to fire) she gets killed by one of the creatures by graphically pulverising her stomach, and then it proceeds to infect her body.
When the fighting begins in the sacrificial chamber stand off, Nick gives Salim a gun, which I thought was an interesting detail.
Bonus Jason and Salim exchanges:
Salim: *says nothing*
Jason: You just gonna stand there like a god damn mute?
Salim: *says nothing*
Jason: How about you keep your ideas about my country to yourself?
Jason: You got any idea what we’re dealing with?
Salim: *says nothing*
Jason: Huh. Well I’ll just talk to myself, then.
Salim: *says nothing*
Jason: I think you need to give your mouth some rest
(That last one particularly got me)
Jason: Is that your wife?
Salim: *says nothing*
Jason: I was wrong to judge you. You’re all right.
When Nick wakes up from being knocked out in the sacrificial chamber, he’s accosted by both the undead (Balathu) and a now-infected Rachel. She’s like some sort of rabid puppy waiting for orders and Balathu gives her the boss nod and she’s like ‘yay’ and sprints after Nick.
Jason inhaled the dead vampire (sad face)
When Jason starts coughing in the star chamber, Salim says, ‘Hey! Your coughing may attract the vampires!” This one killed me because I know when they have a developed relationship he instead says ‘it’s okay, you’re okay’ and now he’s just WILL YOU STFU
Nick retreats from the motherlode by default, but one of the vampires accosts him because of his wound dripping blood and, without fighting back, Nick is killed and the vampire goes to ABSOLUTE TOWN on his insides.
Now it’s just Salim and Jason left, so obviously this is gonna hurt because we know what’s coming.
Infected Rachel comes back to chase them up the rope, but Jason cuts it.
Bonus:
Jason: *cutting the rope* Long live the Queen
I’m living for that line, I’d never had the scene play out like that before.
So another thing I found interesting because I’d always had it that Salim discovers their weakness to sunlight/Eric has the UV lamp, but this time when Jason and Salim climb out back at the shepherd’s huts, they look back into the hole confused and say ‘I don’t get it, where are they, why aren’t they coming up?’
But OF COURSE they come up when the sun goes bye bye.
Balathu comes after them in the hut and yep, without being able to press a single damn button to save them, Jason gets a healthy dose of Balathu through his skull and Salim is speared as well as being bitten in the neck. Broke my heart when his body also fell against Jason’s body in some sort of macabre spooning.
In Conclusion
I thought this would be a really stupid idea, and of course it was, but I really enjoyed all the extra bits I’d never heard/seen before! But it also made me like Nick’s character more to see him take control a little bit more, but obviously when Jason is actually making decisions like he should you don’t get that from Nick.
Now I’m gonna pretend it never happened.
#house of ashes#the dark pictures house of ashes#dark pictures anthology#jalim#jason kolcheck#salim othman#jason x salim#rachel king#eric king#nick kay#clarice stokes#nathan merwin#joey gomez#oorah#semper fi
145 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm sorry for adding on to your pile of requests but I just wanted some family fluff with sbi where all of the siblings are having fun on a road trip or vacation
I don't know if that's specific enough for you if you want a little more detail maybe they're just being really dumb and making stupid videos with each other because that's something my sister and I do a lot
(A/N): I hope you don’t mind that I added Kristin and Tubbo (BASED ON THE CHARACTERS, NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE). Real life AU btw (no covid tho)
Okokok so this is deadass something Philza and Kristin is both dreading and looking forward to
1. They love spending time with their family especially now since yall are getting older and don’t spend as much time together anymore/getting ready to fly the coop
2. Have you met the SBI fam? Chaos incarnated.
After packing, yall set out on your trip to the hotel yall rented for a week or so (about an eight hour drive away from the house)
You and your twin Tommy 100% smuggle Tubbo underneath all of the luggage and a blanket
You’ll just ask them for forgiveness when you’re about halfway through
It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission
Wilbur and Technoblade catching you hiding the stowaway and blackmailing you both into doing their chores for a few week
Seating: Phil and Kristin in the front, Tech and Wil in the middle, You and Tommy in the back, and Tubbo in the trunk (it’s a mom van)
Before getting too far into the trip, a gas station is raided for snacks and drinks
Philza raising a brow at the amount of food you and Tommy get
Philza’s eyes were torn off from the refrigerator in front of him by his wife lightly nudging him. Looking at her in question, she raised her eyebrows and pointed at their youngest kids. It looked like they were just looking at the Monster drinks, so why- oh god the last thing he needed was two already hyper teenagers hopped up on Monster trapped in a car for eight hours. Before he could go over there to stop them, Kristin grabbed his arm.
“They’re up to something. Listen to what they’re saying.”
He strained his ears to hear what you both are whispering to each other. “...e like this flavor?”
Tommy shrugged, “I dunno. I’ll text him.”
As Tommy texted someone, Phil looked back at his wife. She wore a similar wary expression as they both stared at each other. He nodded in confirmation, “definitely. How do you reckon we confront them?”
He watched as his wife thought for a moment before she sighed and looked at him with a hint of excitement in her eyes, “let’s wait to see. It might be a pleasant surprise.”
“What? Are you mad?” He eyed his youngest gremlins once more. It seemed that they finally decided on a flavor and are now moving on to the snack portion. He looked back at his wife and felt his heart skip a beat at the small grin on her face. “...fine. Let’s just see what they’re doing after they do it.” Oh, the things he does for love.
He kept a very close eye on you two after that
You both are on your phones for longer than usual
Texting Tubbo so that he wasn’t lonely
Tubbo has fun with hiding too, never being bored at all
The only thing that he (and you and Tommy) struggled with was holding in his laughter
You jumped as you felt someone gently slap your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Tubbo’s hand peeking over the backs of the seats. You glanced at your parents in the front seats, they were deep in conversation. Good. You saw Tommy stifle a laugh and pull out his phone to record.
Tubbo made grabby hands at something but you didn’t know what he wanted, so you decided to mess with him a bit. Smirking, you put your earbuds in his hand. It snaked back underneath the blanket before he threw it back at you and did more intense grabby hands. You put your metal water bottle in his hand. He did the same thing before he threw it back at you. It collided with your forehead with a loud bong sounding throughout the car. Tommy started to laugh loudly and ended the video. You followed suit in the laughter as Tubbo’s hand froze midair and quickly slinked back into his lair.
All noise in the car came to a halt as they all looked behind them (well, Phil glanced through the rearview mirror suspiciously) to see you and Tommy laughing your asses off with you holding your forehead. Through blurred vision, you could see Kristin looking at you with worry and Techno and Wilbur looking confused and mildly annoyed.
“(Y/n) honey are you alright? What happened?” You opened your mouth to respond, but only wheezes came out making you laugh harder. You could hear Tubbo silently cackling to himself in the back, the blanket shaking slightly. Without being able to speak, you only nodded your head and gave her a thumbs up.
Tommy sent the video into the siblings' group chat and you could see over Wilbur’s shoulder as he watched it before starting to cackle and save the video to his phone. Even Techno got a good chuckle out and saved it to his phone making Phil and Kristin even more suspicious. Well, Kristin was just excited for what you two (four? Was Techno and Wilbur in on it as well?) had planned. Phil could just imagine the chaotic things you had planned. And he did not like what came to his mind.
When the rest stop came eventually (about three hours into the trip), you all left the car to stretch your legs and take care of business
Taking separate ways to walk in pairs (same person they sat next to in the car)
You and Tommy wait until Phil and Kristin leave before getting Tubbo out of the trunk
You three vibe walking along the winding sidewalks for a bit before you come back to the car and get Tubbo back into the trunk
You, however, forgot to use the bathroom so you leave Tommy and Tubbo in the car
“Fuck, I forgot to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Be quick, I’m not fuckin telling em if we forget you.”
“Pfft, they won’t forget me. Stop joking around.”
With that, you left the car and made a beeline to the bathroom. After that, you went back to the car. Well, where the car was supposed to be. There was no sight of a van anywhere in the parking lot. That asshole, he just let them drive off? He and Tubbo’s probably giggling to themselves in the backseat like school girls. You were only gone for like eight minutes.
Sighing, you walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, pulling up Techno’s contact and calling him.
He picked up after a few rings. The second you heard the dial tone stop, you spoke to him, “check the backseat.”
“What? You’re taking a nap, why’re you calling me I’m literally right in front of you.”
“Just fuckin check, Tech.”
In the background, you could hear Tommy snickering to himself. You heard some rustling before Techno started laughing, “Dad, we left (y/n) at the rest stop.”
“YEAH YA FUCKIN DID!”
You could hear loud laughter from your brothers and muffled cursing from Phil. You heard Kristin tell Techno to hand her the phone.
“We’re so sorry, we’re turning around right now. We’ll be there in about five minutes. Stay in one place and don’t talk to strangers.”
“I dunno Mom, that trucker looks really friendly. Might do some hitch hiking with him.”
You ended up befriending an old lady when she sat next to you on the bench with her husband. She even gave you some butterscotch and those strawberry hard candies that all older people somehow have but you can never find in stores. Her husband was telling you stories about his younger days when you saw the familiar van pull into the parking lot. Waving goodbye, you thanked them and hopped back into the car.
After profuse apologizing from your family and scolding Tommy for tricking them, you were on the road again. You glared at Tommy with a small smile on your face, “you fuckin prick. Did you seriously make it look like I was sleeping under a blanket?”
“Yeah, I told you that I wouldn’t tell them if we forgot you.”
“You fuckin dick,” you grabbed a few butterscotches and strawberry candies and handed some to Tubbo after ensuring your parents weren’t looking. He took them gratefully and quickly. You heard him whisper a ‘thank you’ and opened them with plastic crinkling.
“Wha- are those butterscotches? Gimme some.” He was about to snatch them out of your hands before you moved away from him. “No, you left me at the rest stop. You don’t get any. Do you guys want some? I’ve got butterscotches and strawberry candies.”
After you handed them out to your family, Phil looked at you confused in the rearview mirror, “(y/n), where’d you get these?”
“Oh, I just made some friends with an old couple while I was waiting.”
“You what? What if they kidnapped you?”
“Naw they couldn’t’ve. Ethel has hip problems and Charles was in a wheelchair. They were chill anyway.”
“...Just- just don’t do that again.”
“Well don’t forget me again at a rest stop three hours away from home and you got yourself a deal.”
After a while the family was chill again and everything was back to normal
It was getting closer and closer to when Tubbo would make his reveal
You three agreed that Tubbo would just wait for the perfect time
That time came about three hours later when Phil and Kristin was asking everybody where they should stop for food
“So kids, we have three options: McDonalds, Wendy’s, and Arby’s. What do you want?”
“Wendy’s is obviously the superior choice.” Tommy proclaimed and you nodded in agreement. You leaned back and whispered to Tubbo, “now would be a great time.” You pulled out your phone to discreetly record the front seat.
“No it isn’t. Arby’s is you heathens.” Wilbur chimed in, glancing at his twin for back up. Techno shrugged, “I’m fine with anything as long as it’s edible.”
“I’m more of a fan of Wendy’s myself!” Tubbo’s muffled voice chimed in from his makeshift hut in the trunk. You snickered as Kristin whipped her head around to look at the back seat and Phil’s eyes snapping up to look at you through the rearview mirror.
“...Tubbo?”
“Hi Mrs. Tommy and (y/n)’s mum!” You flipped the camera around just in time to catch Tubbo poking his head out of the blanket and grin sheepishly at them. You panned over to Tommy’s ruby red face as he was holding in his laughter before flipping it back to the front.
“You absolute gremlins, this is what you’ve been hiding?” Phil scolded you and Tommy, his knuckles whitening from gripping the steering wheel. You could see his shoulders bouncing slightly with a slight strain in his voice from holding in chuckles.
“Honey, have you been in the trunk this entire time?”
“Yeah, but it’s quite comfy back here! Tommy and (y/n) gave me pillows and some snacks. Got some stretching done at the rest stop.”
“You’ve been back there for six hours?” Phil’s incredulous voice asked.
“Yep! Don’t worry, I had a lot of room. Anyways, my vote goes to Wendy’s.”
The car was quiet before Kristin started to laugh, “Wendy’s it is. See Phil, I told you it was gonna be a pleasant surprise!”
Tubbo sat between you and Tommy in the backseat for the rest of the trip
Techno and Wilbur saying that they knew Tubbo was back there but left out the blackmail part
There was no way they’d risk losing their little siblings doing their chores for them for a few weeks
At the hotel, the rooming was the same as the seating in the car
You, Tommy, and Tubbo having the time of your lives alone in your hotel room
Jumping on the beds, checking for hidden cameras and double sided mirrors (well, that doesn’t sound fun, but you had fun doing it), truth or dare, racing each other down the halls at night time, the works
B L A N K E T F O R T S (but always cleaning up the hotel room in the mornings bc yall are respectful to the staff)
Getting plenty of videos of you guys ding dong ditching Techno and Wilbur’s room
Them getting tired of it so they tell Dadza and Momza and they tell you to stop : (
Walking around aimlessly around the hotel hallways with Wilbur and Techno
Going up and down elevators aimlessly
Pulling an all nighter with Tommy and Tubbo on the last day
Philosophical late night talks when yall hardly know what you’re saying anymore (and becoming closer than ever before)
“Tommy, Tubbo?” You three were currently sitting on the balcony chairs looking out at the empty parking lot and the occasional cars driving by. It was about three in the morning and you guys were determined to stay up all night. “If you think about it, a hotdog is puréed meat in an intestine casing. When we eat the hotdogs, we turn it back into puréed meat. It eventually goes through your intestines which makes you the hotdog for a solid couple of hours.”
“...What the fuck, (y/n).”
“No no, they’ve got a point. Don’t you understand, Tommy? We are hotdogs.”
“...I’m starting to think you guys need sleep. Speakin nonsense.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Do you two reckon we’re alone in the universe?”
“What do you mean, Tubbo?” You glanced at the male next to you and raised an eyebrow. He was looking up at the stars with furrowed brows.
“Like, do you guys think there’s life out there. Looking down at us right now wondering the same thing.”
You hummed and looked up at the stars. They were twinkling down at you with the occasional shooting star blazing by. Red lights from far off satellites being the only visible sign of humans in the dark expanse of space. “I think so. I mean, nobody knows how big the universe is. You never really know.”
“Honestly I don’t know what’s scarier, being the only lifeforms and being completely alone or having things out there that we don’t know about.”
You sling an arm over your twin’s shoulders, “that doesn’t matter. As long as we have each other, we’ll never be alone. We’ll face whatever the universe has in store for us together.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know, I just hate it when people only see me as the loud annoying one. It really gets to me sometimes and I don’t know what I should do about it. Fuck, even Wil and Tech see me like that.”
“Toms, fuck them. They don’t know you like we do. You’re caring, ambitious, and brave.”
“Yeah, don’t listen to what they say. We’ll prove them wrong when we form our own nation one day.”
Tommy’s sullen expression slowly melted into a smile, “yeah, I’d like that. You’d be the president.”
Tubbo grinned back at Tommy, “and you’ll be my trusty vice president and (y/n)’ll be our Secretary of State. We’ll rule together.”
“Our nation would be a place for people to escape tyranny and injustice. Somewhere where men could live free, you two would be amazing leaders.”
“What do we call it though is the question,” Tubbo hummed in thought.
“How about ‘Manberg’?”
You looked at your twin with half lidded, exhausted eyes, “I like it, but it needs more… pizazz. How about L’manberg?”
You watched as he smiled widely at the stars, “it’s perfect.”
Watching the sunrise together on the balcony wrapped in blankets
Sleeping on the rest of the way back home
Best sleep of your life
When you wake up (about an hour or so away from home), you see that there’s blankets over you three and you had your head on Tubbo’s shoulder, Tubbo had his leaned up against the seat behind him, and Tommy’s cheek was squished against the window
You stretch out your limbs a bit trying not to disturb the two beside you
Checking your phone to see pictures of you three sleeping sent into the family group chat with Kristin replying with a bunch of heart emojis
You send the videos and pictures you took along the way of you, Tommy, and Tubbo doing stupid things in the hotel room and in the car
If you looked in the middle row, you could see Wilbur watching the scenery pass by out the window with his earbuds in
Techno is reading one of his books (you have no idea how he doesn’t get car sick)
Phil and Kristin are talking lowly to each other holding hands on the center counsel
Soft radio music is playing in the background
Life is good
General taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser
#sbi x reader#sleepy bois x reader#sleepy bois inc x reader#philza x reader#technoblade x reader#wilbur soot x reader#tommyinnit x reader#tubbo x reader#momza x reader#mcyt x reader#dream smp x reader#requests#hellion's requests#1k special#hellion's 1k special#tw: swearing
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
diving into lord of chaos! the 3 terms i know from this book going in are The Box, dumai’s wells, and asha’man kill. what do they mean? i don’t know, but i know they’re iconic (and traumatic) and i will be keeping an eye out for them
the similar names are starting to get out of hand. took me a solid paragraph to remember demandred was a forsaken and not some cairhienin (since a lot of cairhienin names have the -dred ending). and every time i see “mazrim taim” i feel like mat and tam al’thor are making up fake names to get free trials of stuff
our first glimpse of shayol ghul and the dark one! very exciting. does the dark one have a corporeal form or is he just like a spirit entity? a deity of sorts? how will rand be able to battle and defeat him? (all rhetorical questions ofc)
i wonder if shayol ghul will exist at all in the show since they’ve changed the dark one’s prison to the eye of the world. now that i’m thinking about it i think that was a great decision bc a) shayol ghul feels like a lotr knockoff whereas the eye and the blight are more distinct and memorable b) what even is the point of the eye in the books? does it ever come up again after the first one? why did moiraine even need to take the kids there in the first place (i’m sure this was explained at the time but i completely forget)? why is there just a pool of untainted saidin chilling there? how is that possible? how can saidin be matter, i thought it was just some intangible force? why doesn’t rand think about going back to the eye to try and use this untainted saidin? all this to say that the show’s version of “the eye is the dark one’s prison and moiraine has to take the kids there to defeat him” is much more clear-cut. and c) older hardened rand going to the eye to battle the dark one in the series finale the same way little baby rand did in the s1 finale will be a beautiful full circle moment and WILL make me cry my eyes out
is it just me or is the aes sedai not letting elayne go to caemlyn very uhhhhh stupid? i understand they want her to finish her training but, political powerhouses as they supposedly are, you would think they’d realize that a huge country being in turmoil because they have no ruler MIGHT cause problems. “if rand has you and caemlyn he has andor” so you think the solution is to keep elayne away and let him have caemlyn all to himself? how is that not worse?
if elayne can make ter’angreal now, i think she should make a matching set of Fuck Hut-esque ter’angreals for all members of the polycule so that they can long-distance date more effectively
"min’s laugh had a huskiness to it; elayne supposed many men would find that attractive. and she was pretty, in a mischievous sort of way.” i swear to god elayne is the most bisexual straight character i’ve ever encountered. i can’t wait for the show to make bi elayne canon
“if [rand] learns about the viewing he might decide it isn’t what we want, only the pattern, or his being ta’veren. he could decide to be noble and save us by not letting either of us near him” elayne says, and she is bang on, but min replies “more likely, if he realizes we’ll both come running when he crooks a finger, he’ll crook it. he won’t be able to help himself.” doing rand a huge disservice and proving that elayne knows him WAY better than she does
“you and i will divide him up like a pie. maybe we’ll let the third have a bit of crust when she shows up.” ugh. min you are losing my esteem left right and center. i absolutely loved her the first 4 books, things took an abrupt nosedive in book 5, and book 6 is not off to a promising start. some of you guys have assured me that min/rand will get much better once they actually have screentime together (though others have said that it remained their least fav rand ship throughout), which i hope is the case bc at the current moment there’s a long ways to go before i will ship it. at this point i’m advocating for mat straight up taking her spot in the polycule rather than being added as a fifth jkdjfg
very fitting that the next scene opens with faile saying “a man is not a horse or a field, neither of you can own him” i do feel like she ought to take her own advice there lmfao but i’m glad to see her again!!! despite how much the tsr relationship drama pissed me off, i actually really love faile? i think that’s an unpopular opinion, but I Just Think She’s Neat
so it seems it’s perrin’s turn to experience the homoerotic ta’veren pull! very interesting how faile thinks about “sharing” perrin with rand with similar language as elayne and min do about sharing rand romantically with each other. if you wanna be my lover you gotta get with my fellow ta’veren to whom fate has inexorably linked me
tangent but i’m realizing that mat’s struggle with his fate-pull to rand is so fucking SIMILAR to min’s and aviendha’s. good GOD just put him in the polycule!
“why did the dragon reborn need perrin now, so strongly that perrin could feel it across however many hundred leagues lay between them?” fellas is it gay to need your buddy so strongly that he can feel it from hundreds of leagues away
i know we hate gawyn, but him thinking about swearing an oath to give his life for elayne’s when he was “barely tall enough to peer into elayne’s cradle” 🥺🥺 that got to me okay? and i can’t blame him for believing the rumors that rand killed morgase and elayne and now wanting to kill rand for it. “gawyn had chosen to stay because his mother had always supported the tower, because his sister wanted to be aes sedai” that was an aha! moment for me where i felt that i understood gawyn’s decision in the coup much better - he has no reason to disbelieve the charges against siuan (esp since he was already suspicious of her for concealing elayne’s whereabouts) and he truly thought that supporting elaida (who was his mother’s advisor for most of his life) meant supporting the tower, and therefore his mom and sister. i still have no strong opinion about gawyn either way, time will tell whether i join the ranks of gawyn haters or end up taking him under my wing as a problematic fav
sevanna mentions a small cube that a wetlander gave to her with instructions of what to do with it once she had rand. mesaana mentions something called a “stasis box.” could one or both of these things be THE box????
i am 65% sure osan’gar is ishamael brought back to life (we know he’s a male forsaken but not rahvin, and i don’t think any of the other dead ones are important enough to make a comeback), but i wonder who aran’gar could be
“stripped to the waist...sweat slicked his hair to his skull, rolled down his chest...figures like that on the white banner overhead twined around his forearms, glittering metallically red-and-gold” god bless, we continue our tradition of a sexy description of rand to kick off the book (post-prologue). i vividly remember tfoh opening with a sexy description of him lounging by a window in rhuidean, and i believe tgh began with him shirtlessly sparring with lan
“sometimes he was so sick of himself that he really was ready to die” 😭😭😭😭😭
“rand said nothing; mat’s secrets were his own” protective boyfriend! “he supposed mat had to have read a book sometime, somewhere, but mat did not have much interest in books” exasperated boyfriend!
bashere is so chill i love him. how he has a daughter who is Like That i have no idea. i hope we get to see him and faile interact sometime.
“he would welcome more men who could channel walking the earth unmolested. finally he would stop being a freak.” 😭😭😭😭 man that just shattered my heart. sometimes it really hits that rand is only a deeply lonely 20-year-old trying his best. also, rand’s channeling abilities as metaphor for queerness example #372456
“i’m going to build something, leave something behind. whatever happens, i will do that! i’ll defeat the dark one. and cleanse saidin, so men don’t have to fear going mad, and the world doesn’t have to fear men channeling” just copy in all my commentary from the previous bullet point, crying emojis included
lots of mentions of rand’s luck, and taim even says he has the dark one’s own luck. which as we know is a mat thing! leave me to grasp at what cauthor straws i can, ok? now that i mention it, i’m 90% sure that the very first instance of “time to toss the dice” was actually rand, when he was trying to take them all thru the portal stone in tgh
lews therin when rand yells at him to shut up: surprised pikachu.jpg. interesting that he may be an actual conscious (?) voice that rand can talk to, rather than just memories etc. but does this mean that lews therin will never truly get to rest in peace, if some part of him is still alive thru rand? that’s so sad :(
i feel that entrusting all these male channelers to the tutelage of some powerful and dangerous guy who just showed up who rand is getting bad vibes from right off the bat may not be the smartest idea, but poor rand is so overworked, he really doesn’t have many other options
“to the maidens, rand was all those children come back, the first child of a maiden ever to be known to everyone”
okay okay okay i’m fine moving on
“he had to stay away from [aviendha]. he carried death with him like a contagious disease; he was like a target, and people died near him” see? elayne was bang on
rand absolutely owning the maidens by telling a joke so bad even i can’t work out the punchline. i love him.
“tolmeran’s doubts centered on mat. despite what he had heard from cairhienin of mat’s skill in battle, tolmeran thought it flattery from fools for a country man who happened to be a friend of the dragon reborn” i just KNOW there are rumors that mat only got his job because he’s sleeping with rand, i just know it
“they were honest objections, and semaradrid’s even had validity” so rand thinks that tolmeran’s objections about mat are NOT valid. supportive boyfriend!
the maidens giving rand advice for how to get aviendha’s attention i’m crying they are his big sisters and moms!!! i love them!!!!
had to post this passage in full bc i’m hollering. i rest my case about there being rumors that mat is sleeping with rand. he is so anxious about anyone finding out rand teleported to his room for a pre-dawn bootycall (which, come on, rand, you can’t just teleport directly into someone’s room in the middle of the night, mat would’ve been well within his rights to stab you)
“how do you know you’re in love with a woman, mat?” “how in the pit of doom should i know?” mat has no time for your heteronormative assumptions rand
i feel like rand didn’t even need mat’s input on anything, he just came bc he wanted to talk to him 🥺 usually rand keeps his problems close to his chest, but he’s venting pretty freely to mat rn
rand saying “no man should have another man’s voice in his head” about his own problems and mat thinking he’s talking about HIS problems AAAAAAHHHH JUST FUCKIN TALK TO EACH OTHER YOU IDIOTS!!! YOU HAVE (SOME OF) THE SAME PROBLEMS!!! GIVE EACH OTHER THERAPY!!!!! GODDAMMIT
mat has adopted a child!! he really went “i’ve only had olver for a second and a half but if anything happens to him i’ll kill everyone in this town and then myself.” he is such a dad!!!! him kneeling down to talk to olver instead of talking about him over his head to another adult because he used to hate when adults did that to him 🥺🥺🥺 this will be all the more touching in the show with Dad Mat already established by his devotion to his sisters
i am so sooooo curious about the lands beyond the aiel waste and wonder if we’ll ever see more of them
#wot#wot book spoilers#oh i forget whereabouts this happened but i cracked up when rand was like 'uh oh i lost asmodean. oh well!'#poor asmodean really did get the most unceremonious offing
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Main 6 + Morga When They Walk in on MC Crying
Asra
He would most likely freak out at first
Immediately runs to you and asks what’s wrong. If you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll just hug you and try to calm you down.
“Everything’s going to be alright, okay? I’m here. I’m not going to leave you alone.”
If you don’t want to be held, he understands and sits in front of you without leaving your side. However, if you tell him to leave, he will ask if that is what you really want. If the answer is “yes,” he’ll get up and leave, but will stay outside the door as a precaution.
Faust will try to lighten your mood by squeezing your hand and saying some silly things.
When you’re ready to talk about what hurt you, Asra will listen carefully and try to find a solution, if there is one. If someone hurt you, that’s a different case. He would be angry. Most likely he will confront them or cast a bad luck spell on them. If it was your own mental problems, he would spend hours trying to compliment you.
He understands that sometimes it’s best to just let your emotions out, so he tells you it’s okay to cry.
However, if you were crying over something stupid, like you dropped a slice of bread, he would laugh. You scared him and he’s just happy that everything is okay. And it was funny.
Makes you some tea afterwards. Even feeds you some chocolate if you want to.
Nadia
“Darling, are you in… Oh.”
Nadia is utterly confused and surprised. That was the last thing she expected when she started looking for you.
If you were lying on the bedroom floor crying, she’ll make you sit on the bed so you’ll be more comfortable. She doesn’t mind if you don’t want to tell her what’s wrong right away. Nadia sits down next to you and calmly waits for you to stop crying. If you want a hug, she will gladly hold your trembling form.
She whispers sweet nothings in your ear to help you calm down.
“It’s okay, darling. Cry it out.”
When you’re ready to talk, she gives you her full attention. She doesn’t mind if you take big pauses between sentences. You’ve probably never seen her so focused before. If you tell her someone hurt you, she’ll ask if you want to put that person behind bars. Whatever the answer is, the person will get punishment for their actions. If it’s stress or something else, she’ll try to find a solution to your problem.
She doesn’t mind if you want to stay in bed all day. She understands that and lets you rest. However, she tries to stay with you as long as possible.
Get’s you anything you need. Food? New clothes? A new pet, perhaps? She’ll get you one. If it makes you happy, she’s cool with it.
If you want to stay with her, even if she has a meeting, she’ll gladly let you come. Will tell the courtiers/royalties that you are welcome here and if they mind you, the door is over there.
When the two of you are alone again, she will kiss you and tell you that she will do everything she can to make sure you are not sad again.
Julian
Uh oh
His first thought is that he fucked up and now you’re crying because of him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he runs to your side and asks what’s wrong and if he caused it.
When you don’t answer him for minutes, he gets worried, but he respects your boundaries, so he tries to hug you and let you cry on his shoulders. If you want him to leave, he leaves, but probably stops at your door. He tries to remember everything you did that day that could have made you so upset.
Most likely, he is overthinking the whole situation.
When you are willing to talk to him, he will sit down like a little kid and listen to you. If someone hurt you, he will ask for their name to confront the person and probably get beat up by them. If it’s something else, he’ll immediately ask if you need medical help. Even if you say no, he will remember to ask again if this happens more than once.
If you need a hug, he will happily cuddle with you on the couch/bed. His first priority right now is the person he loves the most, which is you. That’s why he wants to stay with you all day.
He gets you food and water and peacefully waits for you to finish your meal.
He uses his comedic acting skills to make you laugh. Julian even puts on a little show for you. He plays every single character, of course. When Julian plays a female character, he tries to make his voice a little higher and tucks his hair behind his ears. If that doesn’t make you laugh, he’s lost.
“Do you, uh…. wanna go to Mazelinka’s house for some soup?”
Julian is genuinely trying to make you happy, even if he has to make a fool of himself. He’ll do it for you.
Portia
“OH MY GOD! MC, what happened?! Are you okay?!”
Portia runs to you and immediately hugs you. She tries to calm you down by rubbing your back and whispering to you that everything will be okay. She lets you cry on her shoulders and waits patiently for you to open up about it.
If you want her to leave, she looks at you with puppy eyes, but eventually gives you some time alone.
She immediately runs to the kitchen to get you some sweets and water. Even gets some warm blankets so you can cuddle them. When Portia gets back to your room, she quietly opens the door and slides in the things she got for you. Then she immediately closes it again and waits for you outside.
When you don’t answer for minutes, she runs to Nadia and explains the situation, asking if she could be free today to be with you. She is understanding of the situation and lets Portia be with you. Once she hears the answer, she runs back to you.
Pepi somehow got in and rubbed her head against your leg to cheer you up. She won’t leave you alone until you stop crying.
When you are ready to talk about what happened, Portia will sit down on the bed with you. She is very worried, but tries to smile for you. If you tell her that someone hurt you, she is ready to slam that person to the floor. Portia really wants to do something, but if she can’t confront said person, she will try to talk to Nadia about it. If it’s something else, she’ll try to get whatever you need right now.
She may even take you to the kitchen to bake something with her. She tries to make it fun by throwing a little flour at you.
Helps you brush your hair (if you have any) and compliments you on how nice it is.
Prepares a bath for you and if you want her to join in, she’ll gladly do it.
Muriel
This man deadass froze at the sight of your tears.
He was so surprised that he forgot he had just walked in on you.
Slowly he approaches you and tries to hug you very gently. Muriel doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you, especially when you’re crying. He quietly asks you what’s wrong and tries to rub your back to reassure you.
If you want him to leave, he’s a little taken aback, but nods and walks out to give you some space. While you’re in there, he picks you some flowers. He only picks the prettiest ones because he thinks they’re the only ones that fit you.
When he comes back and sees Inanna whimpering at the door, he gives her the flowers and lets her in. She walks right up to you and drops the flowers in your lap. She then puts her head in your hand and lets out a small whimper.
As soon as you are ready to talk about it, Inanna runs to the door and scracthes it, signaling to Muriel to enter. He slowly sits down next to you, takes your hands in his, and asks what happened. If it turns out that someone hurt you, he’s really angry and promises that he won’t leave you alone from now on. May or may not ask Asra to curse the person. If it’s something else, he feels really bad and tries to help you get through it.
When you’ve completely calmed down, he takes you to his favorite place in the forest. He shows you all the plants and animals that live there and tries to explain why they are important.
If you want to watch the sunset, he takes you to the best spot he knows. Sits you down and waits for the sun to set. You may look at the sun, but he will look at you and tell you that you are beautiful while he blushes.
When you are both done, he grabs your hand and walks back to his hut.
He will cuddle with you once you are in the hut.
(Something that probably happened and made you cry: “Muriel… I accidentally stepped on Inanna’s tail and now she doesn’t want to come near me…”)
Lucio
Worried face™
“Why are you crying? What happened?!”
Lucio is so damn scared.
At first he doesn’t quite know what to do, but when he finally realizes he should reassure you, he walks up to you and hugs you. Lucio places gentle kisses on every inch of your skin or where you allow him to. He uses his baby voice (the one everyone uses on animals and babies) and tries to tell you that everything is okay.
If you want him to leave, he huffs a little but walks out of the room. Once he’s out, he immediately runs to find Mercedes and Melchior so they can be with you if he can’t.
The servants only see a panicked Lucio running towards the garden and then back to your room with two dogs following him.
He lets the dogs in, hoping they can calm you down a bit. When he’s alone again, Lucio goes all over the palace ordering each servant to get you your favorite foods, sweets, drinks, clothes, anything he can think of at the moment.
Lucio comes back to your room and waits rather impatiently for you to open the door. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he’s just anxious.
When you are ready to let him in, he literally bursts in and runs to you. He sits down in front of you with wide eyes and gives you his full attention. If you tell him that someone dared to hurt you, he already runs to them with his sword drawn out. It takes a while to explain to him that he can’t do that. He’ll still throw them in the dungeon and you can’t stop him. If the reason you cried is something else, he’ll let you rant about it and make little notes in his head to make your life easier.
Takes you to the garden when you finally calm down. Goes to a tree and tries to fight it for you. Just so you can laugh, he loses to it and dramatically falls to the ground screaming that it hurts so much and he dies.
After you smile, he sits down next to you and tells you his wonderful stories while cuddling with the dogs.
Morga
She just stands there looking down at you for a minute. You probably didn’t hear her come in.
At first Morga doesn’t know what to do, because all she had to deal with was a couple of people crying, which probably wasn’t her husband. Morga sighs softly and kneels down to you.
mother senses intensifies
She tries to say something, but decides it’s better if she doesn’t. She places a hand on your shoulder and begins to rub it. As you snuggle closer to her, she puts the spear away and hugs you. She won’t say anything until you are ready to talk. If you ask her to leave, she nods, gets up, and goes hunting.
Morga may not show it, but she is genuinely concerned for you. You’re living with her in the middle of the snowy forest, so you have to be physically and mentally strong.
“Probably something really bad happened and that’s why they’re crying.” she mutters.
She couldn’t bear to look at her son while he was crying, so it was hard for her to act tough while you weren’t doing well.
In the end, she thinks about everything that could have happened and tries to find a solution before you’ve told her anything.
Jaeger waits for you on a tree next to your door so he can tell Morga if you’re ready to talk.
When Jaeger signals her, Morga comes right back and goes inside. She kneels down, looks deep into your eyes, and asks what’s wrong. She can see that something really hurt you, so she sits down, takes off her cape and puts it around you.
If you tell her someone hurt you (even though you thought the two of you lived here alone), Morga clenches her jaw. The look in her eyes tells everything. She doesn’t run off like Lucio, but she’s definitely going to try and hunt the person down. If you’re struggling with something else, she nods acknowledgingly and tries to find a solution for you.
You can relax for the rest of the day, though she’ll probably want to get her chores done. If you really want her to stay with you, she’ll eventually give in and take you to your bed to lay down with you.
Achievement Unlocked: Soft Morga
#the arcana#Morga#the arcana morga#morga x mc#lucio#the arcana lucio#lucio x reader#montag morgasson#Morga Eirsdottir#nadia#nadia the arcana#nadia x apprentice#asra#the arcana asra#asra x you#the arcana julian#julian devorak#julian x reader#Muriel#the arcana muriel#muriel x reader#the arcana portia#portia devorak#portia x reader
459 notes
·
View notes
Text
Locked Out
winter prompts day 10 ❄️ lost in a storm
If Jaskier was a stupider man, he'd be confused about the sheer amount of times he and Geralt seem to be getting stuck places together. But he and Geralt had been the first to arrive and these things only started happening after both Eskel and Lambert had reached the keep. Jaskier can put two and two together and come to the conclusion that none of this is an accident.
Unfortunately for him, Jaskier also knows why it's happening. Witchers can smell all sorts of stupid, inconvenient shit, one of the more prominent (and most inconvenient) of those being the changes in human emotion. Meaning that if Jaskier wants to keep his feelings to himself, he has to try very hard to do so. And he discovered almost as soon as the other Witchers showed up that he is terrible at it. The only conclusion he can come to is that between the four of them, they've come to the (albeit correct) conclusion, that Jaskier is hopelessly in love with Geralt, and set themselves to the task of getting together.
What they don't know, is that Geralt barely tolerates Jaskier at the best of times and getting them together is a lost cause. He wants to confront them about it, but he rather likes the time he gets to spend alone with Geralt, whether they're cooking or cleaning or chopping wood. Geralt is different up at the keep than he is on the Path and Jaskier likes this friendlier, more open side of him. So, as long as no one is getting hurt (himself notwithstanding) he decides there's nothing wrong with their little game. They think they're solving a problem and Jaskier gets to spend some time with his friend in a place that's comfortable for him.
Then, one day, they're all gathered in the main hall. Vesemir has long grown tired of Geralt and Lambert's bickering and has retired to his room or the library or wherever it is he goes when he's had enough. Jaskier is once again left alone with the younger wolves and Aiden and he's enjoying the conversation, but he finds himself tuning out more and more often tonight, wondering what it was like to grow up in a place like this.
He knows it was very different then, that there were many more Witchers who called Kaer Morhen home, but he doesn't dare ask more than that. He's gleaned enough from the little bits and pieces from Geralt to know that his childhood was not a happy one and if he's happier here now, Jaskier doesn't want to stir up bad memories.
Jaskier doesn't realize he's staring at Geralt until Lambert nudges him. He shales his head and turns around to a very smug look.
"Aiden's gonna grab drinks," Lambert says, "why don't you and Geralt go get more firewood while we settle up in here." Jaskier nods obediently, casting a quick look in Geralt's direction to see if he suspects anything. Geralt just sighs as he rises to his feet. Jaskier follows suit and traipses after Geralt toward the large doors.
They've only been outside a couple of seconds when Jaskier hears the doors click shut behind them and the sound of the lock being slid across. He spins on his heel immediately and Geralt takes a few steps back, pressing on the door, to no avail.
"You can come back in when you figure your shit out!" Lambert calls through the door. Jaskier can hear them mumbling afterward, but it's too quiet to hear properly. Geralt sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Idiots," he mumbles and turns back to Jaskier. He seems surprisingly calm, but Jaskier feels immediately guilty. This is his fault. He shouldn't have let the game go on for so long and now they're stuck out in the cold until, well, until Lambert and his cohorts decide that they've figured their shit out - something Jaskier knows won't happen.
Fuck. He should have talked to Eskel when he had the chance. He knows Eskel would have listened, that he wouldn't want to force Geralt into something he's uncomfortable with. He might have even talked to Lambert and Aiden about it, gotten them to call it off as well, but Jaskier had been greedy. He had wanted too badly to spend time with Geralt that he hadn't considered things might get out of hand, and now they have.
All at once, he realizes the only way to solve this is to own up to his own feelings. Maybe it will make Geralt uncomfortable for a little while and maybe he won't want to travel with him any longer, but it's his fault for not saying something earlier. Now, it's the only thing he can do to fix this.
He turns to try to explain to Geralt, but when he does, Geralt is smirking back at him.
"Bastards," he mumbles, "what do you say we beat them at their own game?"
Jaskier, stunned, just looks at him.
"I-" if that's what Geralt wants, how could Jaskier turn him down considering this is his fault. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"
"Find somewhere to hide out until they come looking for us," Geralt smirks. Jaskier finds himself at a loss. Ever since coming to Kaer Morhen, he's been continuously surprised about how much fun Geralt really could be when he was comfortable enough to let go. He finds himself agreeing without even thinking through what a terrible idea this could actually be.
"Come on," Geralt says, "we'll head up to the old watchtower and watch them from there."
It's a great idea in theory. In practice, Jaskier will be oblivious to whatever Geralt is watching and he's already wondering why he agreed to this. They barely make it down the hill before it starts to snow and Jaskier sighs to himself. He doesn't quite understand why he's feeling so bad about all of this because Geralt seems to be having a perfectly fine time with it and regularly Jaskier would be thrilled to (team up) with him, but tonight, he's still feeling a little guilty about everything.
A part of him is even hoping Geralt will turn around when the snow starts, but he doesn't and it only starts to snow more heavily. Jaskier does his best to keep up but finds he's falling behind and eventually gives up when he loses sight of Geralt altogether.
"Geralt!" he shouts and for a moment there's no response. Great, he was stupid enough to keep playing along with this and now he's going to die for it, lost and frozen in the middle of fucking nowhere.
He drops to his knees in the snow and is almost immediately hauled back up to his feet. Geralt's arm wraps around his shoulders and suddenly Jaskier is being walked forward through the snow. He has no idea if they're going in the same direction or if they've turned around, but he trusts Geralt to keep him safe.
He doesn't know how long they walk before coming upon a partial structure, half-buried in the snow. Jaskier is pushed inside and Geralt follows shortly, brushing the snow off of himself and then Jaskier. Before he can stop to consider his options, Jaskier is being tugged down into Geralt's lap and bundled up in his arms. He squirms but Geralt holds him close.
"Just... let me warm you up. You're nearly frozen." Jaskier wants to point out that it's Geralt's fault he's nearly frozen, but he's feeling more miserable than bitter.
Reluctantly, he lets Geralt hold him and hopes that he's considered warmed up sooner rather than later. He relaxes into it after a moment, but he's hyperaware of every place they touch. Geralt's hands are warm and comforting, but when they slip under the hem of his shirt, Jaskier pulls away.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I can't let you do this."
"Do... what?" Geralt asks. The expression on his face is a combination of hurt and confusion and Jaskier hates it, but he knows this is for the best.
"Treat me like this," he mumbles. "It's my fault we're in this place."
"Jaskier, I wasn't going to force you through the snow-"
"I don't mean here in this little shack, Geralt. I mean locked outside the keep in the first place." At this point, Geralt looks at him like he's speaking a whole other language and Jaskier sighs. His shoulders slump and he braces himself, but he supposes it was bound to come out at some point. It's been twenty years, after all.
"You know what they're doing, right?" Jaskier asks and Geralt shrugs.
"Being idiots."
"No." Jaskier pauses, but he can't bring himself to look up at Geralt. He's imagined telling Geralt how he feels time and time again, but he never expected it to be an apology. "Geralt they're trying to get us alone together on purpose. Because of my- because of the way I feel about you. Witchers can smell feelings or whatever, right? And I'm not as good at hiding it as I thought I was, so they've obviously figured it out. And I know they're just trying to help, but they don't realize that you don't-" he chokes on the words He's thought they dozens of times, but knowing Geralt doesn't feel the same and saying it out loud are two different things.
"Jask?" Geralt says softly and when Jaskier looks up, he's moved closer and he's smiling softly at him. "Is that why you think they're doing this?" Jaskier nods and Geralt sighs and shuts his eyes. "Jaskier, come here."
"Are you sure?"
"Jaskier."
"Okay, okay." He shuffles closer again, letting Geralt's arms wind around him. He tries not to press into him, but the hut is cold and Geralt is so warm and he smells wonderful, like leather and smoke and home and Jaskier is so worried about being so close that he doesn't realize Geralt is talking until he rests his chin on Jaskier's head.
"Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Uh. Yes?" Geralt sighs and does something that Jaskier can only assume is nosing at his hair.
"I didn't know about your... feelings. I thought they were just fucking with me." His arms close in a little tighter and Jaskier is too confused to fight against it. Geralt chuckles softly and Jaskier is fairly certain he's actually imagining things when he feels soft lips press against his head. "If I'd known you were amenable, I would have kissed you a long time ago and gotten them off our backs."
At that, Jaskier is certain something is wrong. Geralt doesn't just say things like that. He pulls out of his arms, turning to face him.
"Are you sick?" he asks and Geralt tips forward, swiftly closing the space between them and catching Jaskier's lips in a soft kiss.
Jaskier's mind goes entirely blank and he forgets what he's supposed to do with someone's mouth against his own. Then, Geralt's thumb comes up to brush against his cheek and when Geralt deepens the kiss, Jaskier moans softly and his reflexes take over, leaning into the kiss and wrapping his arms around Geralt's shoulders.
Without hesitation, Geralt winds his arms around his waist, hauling Jaskier up into his lap and leaning back against the wall. The kiss seems to last an eternity and no time at all and when Jaskier pulls away it's only because he's abruptly aware that he still needs to breathe.
"Oh," he breathes and Geralt smiles at him, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair back behind Jaskier's ear.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time."
"Me too. I suppose this means we'll have to thank the other?"
Geralt chuckles as he curls a hand around the back of Jaskier's neck and draws him close for another kiss. "Not a chance."
493 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE sbi crit post (reupload)
after the original and the iconicmcytblrposts version both being deleted, i was pretty sure the sbi crit post was gone permanently. thankfully, after a good amount of digging i was able to find an internet archive version, which im posting here for accessability (and because the archive version mentions op by name.)
op has since abandoned their blog, but please, still dont seek them out to harass them. im not posting this as much to mock as i am because i think even dumb fandom history shit deserves to be preserved. this is the full text of the post, minus the requesters url removed by me.
———————————————————————
cw, critical of sbi
as requested by @/[url removed], a SBI critical post. Going from youngest to oldest. None of this is satire, no matter how silly these points seem
TommyInnit
A kid. He is arguably too young to be doing what he does.
Twitch is a site that’s quite adult, even with many streamers being minors, and many of the people watching the streams also being minors. Swearing, sexual jokes, etc. are (if we’re looking at the definition of it) nsfw, and let’s be real, if you can’t have a job, you shouldn’t be probably shouldn’t be engaging in NSFW things. Yes this includes making stupid little sex or penis jokes, since they’re being broadcasted to thousands of people.
Many of his friends are adults and they have to watch themselves around him, which is something they shouldn’t really have to do due to their line of work. They should be able to make shitty sex jokes and flirt with their peers because that’s their job, but around Tommy they can’t. Bonus points for befriending a fucking 32 year old. Remember that one John Mulaney set? Where he talks about how fucking weird Back to the Future is? Sorta the same thing only we know how Phil and Tommy met so not nearly as weird. But still a little weird.
Technoblade
This one was the hardest, and I thought about it for a good bit. Hard to write, but I think I’ve got it.
He is glorifying his ADHD. I know it’s not purposeful. I know ADHD isn’t bad. But by doing what he does open and in the public (just look at the potato war) he is making it seem as if hyperfixation is the Best Way to win something. He spent months holed up in his room, farming potatoes in a block game. 10 year old kids are going to see that. And they’re gonna want to do it too. And it is not good for you
Wilbur Soot
are you gay or not.
We all agree that he’s bi coded (not saying he is, saying that he presents as bi). He’ll, someone on the Projekt Melody LoH straight up called him a “bi-guy”. Because of this he often gets away with his more Home of Sexual jokes, yknow, like the same ones we hold Dream accountable for? Just look at the entirety of him asking Dream on the pizza hut date. Most definitely queerbaiting but we ignore it because he just seems like he’s LGBTQ. Hell, this is where I get my definition of Soy-Boy from; “a man that seems bisexual, so you just kinda assume it and then one day you find out he’s actually straight. The fact he’s straight sits in your mind, but the fact he’s not bi is constantly dancing at the front of your head. There is nothing you can do about this. Also soy-boys have good fashion senses”
ALSO he is fairly open about his political beliefs (re: Piss Speaks Louder than Words cover, calling Sapnap (who at the time was RPing a cop) a pig, calling himself a liberal), and yet he doesn’t say anything about his fans that are racist or such (please just go look through the comments of the Piss Speaks Louder than Words cover. It’s a hell).
Ph1lzA
“Sir that is my emotional support block man!” all the kids with fucking terrible parents say. Trust me, I know because I am one of those kids.
He is an escape for many of us, a father that will always care, a father that won’t hurt us (or in my case, threaten so much I’m afraid to be around him). And Phil is also an unhealthy coping mechanism.
He is “trapped” behind our screens. He can’t actually comfort us. He can’t give you a hug, or ruffle your hair, or anything that a good father could because you don’t know him. You can call him dad in donos. You can ask for life advice. But he’s not your father. And we all need to realize that, I think.
None of SBI is your family. They have family dynamics with each other, but you don’t have family dynamics with them.
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Of Angels and Promises
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader
Word Count: ~12.2k
Warnings: fluff, smut, violence, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, daddy boba is a warning all on his own, implied throne fucking
Summary: Promises are bad. They imply attachment and accountability, both very hard to come by in the maker-forsaken deserts of Tatooine. Falling in love inspires promises that one isn’t able to keep, and you let your guard down with him.
You saw the ship. It soared through the sky, slicing through the air like an arrow. It was the same one that he had drawn for you on the rough sketching paper in your mechanic’s workshop, and it was even more beautiful in person. It was a cloudless day, and the green paint contrasted the sky perfectly. You could track every movement across the blue expanse and expected to watch the ship set down directly by your hut. But it didn’t. It continued, stretching farther away in the direction of the palace with every passing second that you stood, frozen in space and time.
So you do what every other abandoned lover would. You ignore it and tell yourself that you were mistaken. It’s easy to pretend you’d imagined it. Because if Boba ever came back, he would come back to you, right?
A gentle knock on the doorframe rouses you from the depths of overthinking, and you accidentally slam your head on the shelf in surprise. “Shit! Motherkriffing, dank fucking farri-”
Your first name echoes through the building and cuts through your vicious curses like a bell, and you stop in shock. No one out here calls anyone by name. Your hand drops to your workbench and grasps a heavy wrench. You slowly approach the door and slide to one side of the frame to prepare an ambush. The voice calls your name again, and this time you register that it’s female, low-pitched and soothing. An arm appears through the doorway, and you swing the wrench with all of your might.
You expect at the very least to graze the limb appearing through the doorway of your workshop, but you’re sorely disappointed when you miss entirely. You stumble forward, off-balance from the misplaced strike. A hand seizes your wrist, torquing it violently to one side and forcing you to drop the makeshift weapon. Before you can blink, you’re pinned against the wall with your arm twisted behind your back.
“Let me go!” You struggle against the grip, but it’s too strong, and you grunt at the strain in your joints. “Please, I have water, maybe a handful of credits in the house.”
She doesn’t release you and your name is muttered sharply again. “Is that you?”
“You found me. If you’re going to kill me,” You turn your head enough to spit on the ground, “Tell Bib that I’ll come back to haunt him and shove it where the suns don’t shine.”
“I don’t come on Fortuna’s orders.” She spits the Twi'lek name like a curse. Now you’ve pissed her off. If you weren’t going to die before, you would now. “I come on Boba Fett’s.”
You stop struggling immediately, “What?”
“Boba Fett sent me to bring you to him.” You inhale sharply at the confirmation.
Betrayal flashes through you like lightning. “Let me go.” The words are an angry hiss, reminiscent of a desert serpent ready to spit venom.
She does so and you turn, rubbing your shoulder. The woman is deceptively small, with dark hair in a long braid down her back. A form fitting leather tunic and coat accents her slim waist and fit body. She’s wearing a helmet, though you can see dark eyes through the visor, and a long rifle rides on her back.
“Who are you? Are you a bounty hunter?”
“I am.” You wait for her to reach for her rifle, “But that is not why I am here.” She disengages her helmet lock and pulls it off. She’s too pretty to be a hunter. You wish that wasn’t your first thought, because now you can’t help but stare. You’re vaguely aware that you probably look stupid, but you’re too busy gaping at her smooth skin and fine features. The only indicator of her profession is the stern set of her mouth and perfectly shaped eyebrows, okay you need to stop.
Because you weren’t mistaken earlier. Boba is back on Tatooine, and you’re not sure how to handle that after so much time.
---
“Come on, don’t do this to me right now. No, no no no no n--” A puff of smoke drifts from the comm unit, and you drop the screwdriver with a defeated sigh. Kriffing hell. Weeks of searching for the right parts, the blazing hope within you that you might be able to finally get off this ball of sand when you saw the Imperial signal boosting unit, all ending in a smoking and sparking mess in your hands. Anger flashes hot through your veins, and your hand flies up and whacks the communicator hard, hard enough that the stinging impact chases away the anger momentarily. Then the fury returns, doubling in intensity, and the sheer injustice almost makes your vision white out.
The distant grinding of the sandcrawler shakes you out of your fervor, and you haul yourself to your feet with a sigh. Trading days always... intensify you. But you can’t afford to get hung up on one comm unit. It has been years of fried comm units. Even if you managed to patch together a working one on your limited knowledge, who would you call? A single name flits across your mind, but you veto it instantly. Even if he was in range, he wouldn’t come to get you.
So, back to the original plan. The long plan, the one that has stranded you on this planet for solar cycles. You busy yourself with the various scavenged parts that you’d collected over the past month, polishing and dusting the pieces until they glint like gems in the late afternoon suns. Every small scratch garners another twelve minutes of debate over whether the rebuilt astromech viewport would be worth the trade for the polished transparisteel, or the additional inhibitor units.
The first thing that’s off is the Jawas themselves. They seem… tense. No, that’s underselling it. They’re always high strung, running around and worrying about different bargains and barters. But today, they’re absolutely freaked out. Dual sun-stroked. High on their anxiety. Which is good for you; they’ll be distracted and maybe they won’t try to barter for your spare vapor consolidator again this time.
So you naturally pay it no mind while setting up your line of wares. You had a good haul this week, enough to make the water taxes this month.
The Jawas crowd out of the sandcrawler deck, and you greet them as you recognize them. A flurry of Jawaese flies around your head as they run about, laying out the wares for you to examine. One scurries to your offerings this week: random parts and a series of old mouse droids that you had reprogrammed. They examine the small droids while speaking to each other too quickly for you to follow. Finally, they come back with two of the small droids, nodding to each other as they present the desired pieces to you.
“Got any working EC processors lying around in there to trade?”
They look at each other, and one says a single phrase that you translate roughly to, ‘Bring him out.’
“Bring what out?” But you’re too late and the Jawas are already inside, hauling a mass covered in sackcloth down the ramp. “Is that a patch-in droid? Where the hell did you scavenge a whole one fr…”
The second thing that’s off is the human body. They rip the sackcloth off of the form, and you trail off. “What in the kriffing hell is that?” After further examination you confirm that it is probably a he. His eyes are closed, and he’s lying in the sun too limply to be healthy. There are bruises and cuts on the skin that you can see, but he’s draped in dark clothing that has to be sweltering hot in the Tatooine suns. A Tusken gaffi stick lies pinned underneath his body.
The Jawas erupt in a storm of chattering, waving their arms around their heads as you try to keep up your limited Jawaese. You crouch by the man. He’s breathing shallowly, and you don’t see any visible injuries, but dammit, you don’t know much about first aid. “Slow down, please!”
They don’t slow down, and you’re left scrambling trying to remember the difference between preterite verb forms while continuing to try to check on the man’s health. “He broke into the sandcrawler, killed your warriors, and took a nap?”
More unpleased Jawaese flies around your head, “He broke in, killed your warriors, and didn’t try to escape, just sat down and tried to interrogate you. And then you knocked him out and broke his legs.” The Jawas cheer gleefully in affirmation, and you sigh. A second glance at the man reveals the sunken skin around his eyes and the unnaturally pale color of his skin. There are white scars over his face that look like acid burns. “Maker, how long has he been in there?” The Jawas keep talking, but you’re not paying attention. He won’t last another day without attention, and that is coming from an inexperienced mechanic. You may not know medicine, but you can’t leave him in good conscience.
“I’ll take him off of your hands. Keep the mouse droids.”
It’s a kriffing miracle that you manage to get him back inside your hut and onto the cot without pulling a muscle. You don’t even know if he’s going to wake up. He just lies there, and the weight of the situation slams down on you in a single crushing moment. “What the hell did I just do?” You rake your fingers through your hair, “Take in a dying stranger, why don’t you? Sign away half of your supplies, half of your food, half of your water, half of the credits meant to get you out of this damned place? Dumbass.”
He groans, and you start. He’s awake. With a heavy sigh, you face the newest burden in your life. “Here, drink some water.” You grab the half-empty jug from the table and kneel beside the cot. “You’re lucky that the Jawas decided to meet me today. If they had gone to Tokonu’s farm, you might not have lived through the next few hours.” You reach to prop his head up.
In retrospect, you shouldn’t have tried to touch him. There’s an explosion of movement, and you suddenly find yourself pinned to the ground, arms locked painfully behind your back. Maker, he’s half-dead, and you barely saw him move. “Where am I?” The growl is so deep that you can feel it in your toes, though the roughness of his voice suggests that it hasn’t been used in a while.
You look over your shoulder, and you see dark eyes piercing into you. A shudder runs the length of your spine at the predatory gaze, and you’re feeling less like an unlikely caretaker and more like trapped prey. This is a dangerous man, no matter the state of his health. Then he curses and the weight on your back lifts as he falls to the side and you remember the broken legs.
You shakily roll to the side and sit up, studying the man next to you on the floor, who’s clutching his legs and muttering rude phrases about Jawas and thieves that you’d rather not repeat. He’s older, with creased skin and a dark scowl contorting his features. Scars run the length of his face, adding to the aged appearance. His dark clothing masks most of his body, though you’re sure that the rest of his skin bears similar scars to the ones slicing through his features.
“You done staring?” The rasping voice makes you jump and look away hurriedly, cheeks flaming red in embarrassment.
You stand. You have to find a way to splint his legs. “I don’t see many other Terrans out here.” He grunts, and you hurry to your workshop. You need wood, or metal, or something straight. Fuck you’ve never set a broken bone before, but you grab the bacta from the back cabinet. Your gaze lands on the ladder in the corner of the room.
“Hey.” His head lifts when you re-enter the room, lugging the ladder through the door frame. You dump it on the floor in front of him, and he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Angel, I’m not going to be climbing anywhere anytime soon.”
You ignore the endearment and the sass, “I’ve never set a broken leg before. I need your help if you ever want to walk normally again.”
“You’re going to set my legs?” He asks.
“I’m assuming that you know how to.”
He doesn't confirm your theory, instead tilting his head and looking at you more seriously, “Big assumptions.”
“If you know how to break an arm, you know how to set one.”
He just leans back and laughs, “You have a tongue on you.” You won’t dignify that with an answer, and his smile only grows. “Break the ladder. I need two straight planks.”
---
The massive palace is dank and cold, the polar opposite of the planet outside. It’s a new world compared to the heatwaves and sand dunes. The silence amplifies your quiet footsteps as Fennec leads you through the hallways. Speaking of which, she is absolutely silent. Her footsteps are nonexistent even on the cold metal floor. She put her helmet back on when you entered the palace, so you can’t even hear her breathing. The only sounds are the ones made by you, and the walls seem to amplify them to the point where you’re sure that wherever you’re going, you will be expected.
You can’t help but feel like you’re walking to an execution, though you haven’t decided if it’s your own yet. It could be. You don’t know if he’s changed. It’s been years. You’ve changed, that’s for sure. Actually, scratch that. You know that he’s changed, because he didn’t come straight to you.
You frown. There’s a piece of the puzzle missing, though you can’t place your finger directly on it just yet. After years of being tied to no one, of being perfectly free and independent, why would he come back to Tatooine? What is tethering him to this desert of a planet besides his own suffering?
Out of nowhere, a staircase yawns in front of you, and you hesitate slightly before following after Fennec. The arched ceiling opens into a large room that prominently displays a raised dais, though it all falls away when you see who is seated on the throne.
It’s been a long time since you’d seen him, and you’d never seen his armor in color, only a sketch. The smooth green and red accents are color combinations that are in short supply on Tatooine, he cuts a menacing figure against the dark throne. He’s splayed out on a throne built for a Hutt thrice his size, legs spread and arms resting on the sides. It might be intimidating if it were a stranger, but you keep telling yourself that he’s not a stranger. It’s easy to imagine that he is, due to the blatant showmanship and armor. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, but this suit of armor isn’t the Boba that you knew.
---
“What’s that?” You’re sitting at the workbench while he’s in a kitchen chair that was dragged into the workshop so that he could have a place to rest. He’s recently become mobile, though he’s only allowed to move under your sharp eye, making sure that he doesn’t try anything stupid that will leave him bedridden for another month. That would be another seven weeks of extreme food rationing and existing on supplies only meant for one. That being said, he mentioned that he was willing to lend an extra pair of hands in your workshop, and you’re not one to deny free help, so long as he promised to not push himself too hard. Your measurement tools were left on the table, and to your surprise, he picked up the stubby pencil and began sketching with it. The rough parchment now shows evidence of a human-like figure.
“My armor.”
“What color is it?”
“Green.” Another purposeful sketch on the paper and there’s a prominent blemish in the helmet. “And red.” Stars, it’s like pulling teeth.
“Did you lose it?” Maybe you’re intruding, but you’ve been taking care of him for the past month, so you’ll excuse yourself from this one.
“Yes. These--” He waves a hand around his face, indicating the pale scars, “--are from a Sarlaac. When I fell in, I lost consciousness. Woke up without the armor. I need to find it.”
The Sarlaac pit is an execution site for those who oppose the Tatooine crime syndicate. You’ve never heard of anyone surviving either the wrath of the Hutts or the Sarlaac. “It’s important to you.”
“The armor belonged to my father.” It’s hard to imagine the toughened man in front of you ever being dependent upon someone else. Though, you suppose that everyone comes from somewhere. You wonder not for the first time where this man came from. “It’s part of who I am.”
---
“Boba?” The name is a quiet whisper that echoes emptily through the chamber.
He says your name in return, but his deep baritone makes it sound so much more full than his did floating in the air. “Just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.”
“Can’t say that I can make the same observation.” You shift nervously. It’s too empty and cold in here, the absolute antithesis of the world you made your own. You can feel the dampness leeching the energy from the air.
“That’s fair.” There’s a beat of silence.
“How have you been?” It’s a passive question, nothing more than something to say to break the silence.
“Good. And you?” The conversation is stunted and awkward, though it only used to be stunted. Now, you’re looking at this man and you don’t know him anymore. Even before, he was your friend above all else. Now you’re stuck making basic observations about him.
“You got your armor back.”
The helmet inclines once, barely an acknowledgement of a statement that you feel should receive so much more. “Found it through a friend.”
“Some friend. Am I going to get that story?”
“Later.” It’s infuriating, the distinct lack of personalization. For solar cycles, you had Boba. Then, nothing. Now you have Boba Fett, the bounty hunter.
---
“What’s your name?” You can’t believe it’s taken you this long to ask, though in all fairness, there’s not much need for names when there are only two people around for leagues. You simply speak, and he assumes you’re talking to him. He rarely speaks, so when he does, he’s always talking to you.
He doesn’t answer at first, only continuing to hold the sheet of metal in place so that you can continue welding it shut over the gap in the droid’s body. You don’t mind. If he wants to answer, he’ll answer. Though it would be nice to have a name to place to the stoic face. It would also be nice to have a name to whisper when you touch yourself at night.
You hadn’t meant for it to end up like this, but you can’t help but admit that you had been setting yourself up to fail. Living with a man, especially one so tall, strong, so… kriffing dominant in how he carries himself? You’re just surprised that it took the dreams half a solar cycle to start up. But now you can’t stop thinking about how it would feel for him to back you up against a wall and pin you to the rough stone with just one of those wonderfully strong hands.
“Watch it angel--”
You snap back to the present just in time to see your torch drifting dangerously close to your hand. You yank it away, but the damage is done and your glove is burning. He curses, bare hands immediately flying to the thick cloth and yanking your arm forward. A few rough pats later, and your glove is smoldering. Shit. That had been your last good pair. You sigh, pulling the glove off and getting up to find another. You snag a mismatched glove from the bottom compartment of your storage unit and settle back down to finish the job.
You’re two inches into the welding line when he speaks. “If I had known you’d be so distracted by silence I would have spoken.” The tone is dry and sardonic, and your gaze darts up to meet his deadpan one before flicking back down to your work in time to keep the welder from drifting again.
“No you wouldn’t have.” It’s the truth, based on how he doesn’t seem to have a snappy answer.
Finally, he sighs, “My name is tied to my past. I’ve done some bad things.” This time, you know better than to look away from your work.
You raise an eyebrow at the sheet metal, “I know.” You finish and click off your torch, settling it carefully down on the work station beside you. “No one ends up in a Sarlaac pit by following the law.” Air puffs out of him a little more forcefully than normal, and you squint. Was that a laugh?
“I wasn’t the one getting executed.”
“Didn’t take you for a clumsy person.” He doesn’t dignify the jab with a response, and you suppose that you deserve that. You examine the weld before pulling the torch back out. It’s a little sloppy. “Do you regret those things?”
“No. The sum of a person’s lifetime is found in his actions. Regrets or none, they are who I am.” That… is shockingly poetic considering that you’d only asked for a name.
“You’ve killed people.” It’s not a question, there is no doubt in your mind of the answer, but you want to hear it from him.
“Yes.” A beat of silence. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Depends.” You inhale slowly, trying to figure out how to phrase this, “I… understand that you don’t have an easy past.” He snorts at that, and you glower at him before continuing. “Tatooine doesn’t need more war.”
“You’re scared.” It’s a pointed statement, blunt and uncaring about the blatant assumption.
“No.” No, a million times no. You had not cowered in fear during the Clone Wars, you had picked yourself up and survived. But ever since Bib Fortuna took over the syndicate, violence had been minimal. You do not need more. “As long as you live here, I do not want you to be the one who brings it back.” You’re on shaky ground here, considering that you really don’t have much control over him or his choices. But this is the only request you have made of him so far.
He grunts in response, a thoughtful silence settling over the workshop. “You really care for this planet?”
“No. I fucking hate deserts. I’m blowing this joint as soon as I can.” You yank the glove off with more force than perhaps you needed. Whatever, it got the job done. You squint down at your calloused hands, “I just don’t want to be the reason that more innocent people get hurt around here. Bib does enough on his own.”
Bib Fortuna. The Twi-lek that currently commands the most powerful force planet-side on Tatooine: the crime syndicate that was left leaderless after Jabba the Hutt died in mysterious circumstances involving a Jedi and a Sarlaac execution. Wait a minute...
“No violence?”
You shake your head, chasing away the puzzle pieces that just began to slot together. “Only self-defense.” You’re not unreasonable, Tatooine may be more peaceful than during the war, but lowlifes still exist. “And if you get a chance to get off-world, take me with you.”
“Steep price.”
You raise an eyebrow, “I saved your life. You may as well return the favor.”
“Fair enough. You have my word as a…” He slaps a hand over his chest, but trails off before finishing the sentence, as if only realizing then that his armor is not there. He amends, “You have my word as a man.”
An awkward silence settles over the shop again, though there is no logical reason why it should be awkward, giving you the moment to remember the seed of the conversation. “A man with a name?” It’s a fumbling and clumsy attempt to turn the conversation back towards your objective, and you can tell that he picked up on it.
He looks at you with amusement, “Persistent.” There’s a half-beat of silence as he considers you. “You may recognize my name.”
“I live in the middle of nowhere.” You counter. “Who would I tell?”
“That’s not why I don’t want to tell you.”
Oh. You can’t really think of a response to that, so you stand and begin cleaning your station. Rusty bits of scrap go into that bin, useful parts go into that one over there so you can tinker late at night when you can’t sleep.
“I don’t know your name either.”
You turn a prop a hand on your hip, dramatically lowering your voice, “My name is tied to my past. I’ve done some bad things.” There! Another huff of breath, and a halfway crooked smirk from the usually grim-faced and unreadable man. You smile back, “Trade?”
He considers it briefly, “First names only.”
You grin. That’ll do nicely. “Deal.”
“Boba.”
You introduce yourself, “Nice to meet you, Boba.”
---
“Why are you back?”
“Are you not happy to see me?” He sounds amused.
“I am.” You shift back and forth on your feet. “Why am I here? Why are you here?”
“Because I wanted to see you. To know that you’re alive and healthy.” He’s avoiding answering.
“That’s only half of my question.” Your voice becomes small, “Why didn’t you come home?”
“If I had come to the farm, Bib would have sent hunters out again. You know how that ended last time. You have to cut the krayt’s head off, or it will just keep coming.” You don’t miss how he’s avoiding calling the farm his home.
“You don’t have to pretend, Boba. You have your armor and your ship, you don’t need me anymore. If you came back to take over the syndicate, I won’t be angry.” Even if it means that he’s throwing you away and not looking back. Your heart would heal.
“I--” He hesitates to finish the sentence, and your stomach drops as you expect him to confirm your suspicions. “I didn’t only come back for the throne. I still wanted to see you.”
“If that were true, you would have come yourself.”
“Ang--”
“Stop making excuses.” Your gaze narrows onto the visor blade, meeting his cloaked eyes, “If you really wanted to see me, you would have come to the farm, not sent your lackey. You have your armor and your ship. Why are you back?”
---
It’s all he talks about anymore. And it’s not like he talked that much before, so now ninety-nine percent of the conversations that you have with him are about the nearest pawn stalls, or the Jawa trading route, or the ship scrap yards scattered around the planet. He’s been moving about independently for the past two months, each day venturing out further into the sand hills in search of his armor.
The jug of water is disgustingly lukewarm, but refreshing all the same. You swipe a hand over your forehead as you pace around, propping open all of the windows and shoving the door open. You don’t want to work anymore, it’s too hot for this shit. Late afternoon is the worst, hanging the promise of sunset overhead while continually beating the world into submission with the heat that makes it feel like you’re dragging fire into your lungs. With nothing better to do, you slowly sweep the floor of the house, brushing sand outside just as it continues to blow inward.
The moisture vaporator is functioning passably, your supplies were restocked two days ago, and you made decent headway in your workshop. Nothing is urgent enough to spur you into action. All there is to do is wait for Boba to come home. That’s the brightest point of your day; seeing his figure appear in the shimmering heat waves as he treks through the sand towards you.
He still doesn’t talk much. Neither do you, but there is a comfortable sense of companionship every night when you set the meal down and eat together. If conversation is needed, then it’s needed. But until then, you’re content to sit with him. He’s my friend. The stark realization nearly makes you stop in your tracks. You’re friends with the gruff man who you took in with two broken legs and who leaves you alone for the better part of the day. The man who you imagine on the rough nights when you long for a body beside you.
Finally, finally it’s sunset. You climb to the top of a nearby dune. He’s there in the distance, he always is. You watch the suns sink beneath the horizon and turn to head inside.
You don’t hear him come in, though to be fair, you never do. You expect him to sit at the table. Instead he appears at your elbow, silent as a wraith but as large and solid as any human. You nearly jump out of your skin, “Stars, Boba, you kriffing scared m--” You turn, but are stopped short because he’s right there, crowding you against the counter and there’s something feral in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He’s breathing heavily through his nose, face hovering an inch away from yours and gaze fixed on your lips. Your eyes are glued to his almost black ones. His flick up to meet yours. You can smell him, something spicy and musky that’s drawing you in. Stars, you want to fuck him.
Your eyes flicker down to his lips and the tension shatters. He shoves past you, planting his hands on the counter. He hasn’t changed out of his gear, and the gaffi stick sways threateningly on his back. The tip is darkened and shines in the dim light of the lantern.
Dread pokes your heart. “Boba, are you hurt?” You try to look over the rest of his body for hints of injury, but his baggy clothing masks his body. He seems to be moving fine.
There’s a strained silence before he rips himself away from the counter and stalks away with a terse, “I need to change.” He halfway out of the door when he stops, and you watch him carefully as his head turns back halfway. “Meet me in the bedroom.” The ‘fresher door bangs in the distance, and you nearly collapse against the counter.
You’re not sure how you make it to the room. You’re a trembling ball of nerves, anxious and fidgeting as you stare at the corner of the room. He killed someone. Someone is dead, because of him, and he doesn’t seem to be torn up about it. Only… tense. Like he’s more concerned about the consequences on you than him. You remember his promise.
He’s standing there now, dressed in clean clothes and looking at you like you’re the most complex problem in the room. He seems calmer, though he’s in this mode that you can’t describe with a single word, though you had witnessed it before when you first brought him into your home. There’s a feral intensity about him, almost primal. You don’t know what to say, so you keep your mouth shut.
Finally, he speaks, “I would never hurt you, angel.”
You nod. There’s a shared understanding of this, though it had never been verbalized. He has your back, and you have his. A mutual survival and benefit exists between you two.
“Will you come here?” There’s an underlying question to read in the rasped question. Will you go to him? There’s also a warning. He’s not a safe man, but you’re willing to ignore your fears about that if it means you'll have him. You stand and walk towards him purposefully, each step sealing your choice. You stand in front of him, barely allowing yourself to breath as he scrutinizes you. A hand comes up and tilts your chin upwards carefully.
And then he’s kissing you, more like absolutely devouring you with how far his tongue is down your throat. It’s sensory overload, because all at once he’s so close and so there right in front of you, pressing against your front so closely that you can feel him hardening against your thigh. His hand comes up to tangle in your hair, and you gasp as he yanks your head back.
“I don’t know if I can be gentle, angel.” His pupils are blown, dark eyes even blacker with desire and boring into yours. You can see the restrained lust in his eyes, and you shiver at the silent promise in them.
You grin, only barely aware that it’s slightly feral, “No one asked you to be.”
His own responding smile is nothing short of primal. “Maker, you’re fucking perfect.” His hand roughly smooths over your hair, and you melt into his touch. “Now strip.”
You can’t yank your shirt off quickly enough, but he stops you as soon as the offending fabric flutters to the ground. A hand traces over your collarbone, the rough calluses scraping over the crisp outline of the ink. “What’s this?”
You hesitate before answering, “It’s, uh, it’s artistic.” He makes his skeptical face at you, and you step in closer to him, pressing your body against his more clothed one, “I saw the design in a shop and liked it.”
The distraction seems to work, because he crushes his mouth to yours again, his hands removing the rest of your clothes so that you stand completely bare before his piercing gaze. You fight the urge to cover yourself. He has this way of making you feel like an open book even when you’re clothed, and now you feel that he can look into your soul without any other barriers.
“Beautiful.” The compliment is growled into the tension filled air. Blood rushes to your face, and you duck your head shyly. A hand tilts your chin back upwards to meet his eyes, “Get on the bed.”
He pushes you backwards gently so that you land on the mattress, bouncing slightly as you watch him remove his coverings. With every delicious inch of skin revealed, you feel another shot of heat between your legs. You hadn’t seen much of his body since that first day, and it’s like watching a gift unwrapped in front of you. When he pulls the last of it off, your eyes unavoidably drift between his legs, and your heart stutters at the sight. Stars he’s thicker than you’d expected.
You don’t get anymore time to overthink because then Boba is caging you to the mattress with his body. Your breasts heave, nipples brushing against his chest with every inhale. One thick finger slides through your folds, and you almost cry at the contact. Maker, you’ve wanted this for so long. He pushes into your heat and you swear your body seizes at the sensation.
Boba grunts, “Angel, you’re so tight.” His hips jerk seemingly of their own volition against your leg, his erection sliding over your skin. “Want to be inside of you. But--” He adds another finger, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out more, “--I think I’d break you.”
The heel of his hand grinds into your clit, “Boba. Please, fuck. Told you not--” He curls his fingers against your g-spot and you gasp, “--not to be gentle.”
He pulls his fingers out with a growl and flips you around to your hands and knees. You shiver in anticipation as you glance over your shoulder while he aligns his hips to yours. He barely gives you any time to prep before he sinks into your heat.
Oh shit.
He is so much thicker than you expected. The stretch burns so good, and-- you spare another glance over your shoulder as it just keeps coming. Your arms give and you collapse to your elbows with a whine. Your teeth clench as you focus on taking him, and your hand slaps the mattress as you tense. He stops behind you, “Angel, you need to relax.”
You exhale shakily. Fuck, you can’t relax, it’s too much. He’s going to split you in two. You’d told him to be rough, but you hadn’t been prepared for this. So you crouch on the bed, trying to breathe enough to allow yourself to form words.
“I can stop.” His cock inches marginally out of you, and you panic.
“No! Fu-- keep--keep going. I can do it.” He’s holding himself back. You can tell in the tiny quiver of his hips as he inches further into you. All you can focus on is the feeling of him rubbing against the inside of your cunt. His fingers rub your clit, and a garbled moan escapes your throat as your hips press backwards into him. The pain mixes with pleasure, a bone-deep one that you feel through your entire body as it arches against the bedsheets.
When his hips finally fit to yours, you let out a breathy moan. But he doesn’t continue. He just rests there, which is ridiculous considering how every nerve ending in that region of your body is firing with pleasure and how is he staying so still when this feels like fucking paradise? You might go insane just lying here with him bottomed out so deep inside of you that you can feel it in the back of your throat. His hand leaves your clit to grasp your waist. He eases out of you, the satisfying fullness retreating until the head of his cock hovers at your entrance, just barely inside of you. He’s teetering on a cliff, all of that potential energy built up behind his body as he hovers there, waiting for something. He’s trembling, Boba is trembling as he waits for something that he never asked you for. There’s molten lust creeping through your veins, you need him to move, to fuck you nine ways to next week. “Move. Please. Need--need it.”
He rolls his hips forward and you swear the world implodes behind your eyelids. He doesn’t stop this time, just yanks you closer on the bed and fucking wrecks you. The pace is unforgiving and rough, and the obscene slapping sound of skin on skin echoes through the small home, making you ever more grateful that there are no neighbors for miles.
A whine escapes your throat before you can help it, and you clap a hand over your mouth. He chuckles as he pushes back into your dripping pussy, “Oh, you like that angel?” His hand seizes your hair and drags your back flush against his body, “Ah ah ah. Take it off your mouth.” You do so, your hand trembling, “I want to hear every.” Thrust. “Beautiful.” Thrust. “Noise.” Thrust. You could almost feel him in the back of your throat with that last one, and a strangled cry is ripped from you. “Understand?”
You whimper and nod at the velvety purr against your throat and he hums in satisfaction. “Good.” He shoves you back down onto the sheets, one hand pinning you to the cot by your neck, the other curling around your waist. Without your hand to muffle the noises, your sounds come without you intending; choppy moans that are only broken by the force of his thrusts. He’s anything but quiet himself, a series of soft grunts and curses coming from the general vicinity of his head as he continues to slam into your body.
Your orgasm peaks without warning, ripping through your body before you can think to prepare yourself for it. The climax ripples outwards from your center, white flashes appearing behind your eyelids as you keen high in the back of your throat. Your floor muscles clamp down on Boba, and his rhythm stutters.
“Angel--” With a curse, he rips himself out of you, painting your ass with his release. You’re in a daze of pleasure as you come down from your high, the sheets smooth beneath your cheek and his cum warm on your back. He pulls the sheet, and you whine in protest as he yanks the comfortable bedding from underneath you. He cleans you up with the cloth, tossing it to the side into a random corner of the room.
It’s dark now. The only light in the room comes from the flickering lamp in the corner. Boba pulls blankets over your cock-dumb body, and you snuggle down into your bed, fully expecting him to leave. He doesn’t sleep much, but when he does, he naps on the floor with a blanket or two. You don’t expect him to climb into bed behind you, arms wrapping firmly around your waist and pulling you close to him. You drift before finally surrendering to peaceful sleep.
You wake when he moves behind you. The sunrise glints through the window, spraying warm light around the room. You’d have to get up soon, but not yet. He doesn’t have to go. You turn and look at him.
Your voice is raspy with sleep, but it cuts decidedly through the silence of early morning. “I trust you. You know that, right?” You don’t wait for an answer, because if you don’t say it now, you probably won’t have the courage to do it later, “It’s not hard to earn my trust. It’s hard to keep it, and even harder to regain it.” He’s quiet, and you can feel his deep, even breaths against your front and how his arms tighten fractionally around your waist.
He rolls over, and you feel the mattress dip as he stands. “I need to cover another sector by tonight.”
You turn on your side so that you can’t see the door. Best not to get attached anyway.
---
“Should I be calling you a title or something?” You’re hesitant to refer to him as anything in your mind. He’s just Boba. Not your boyfriend, or your lover, because you only name things you expect to endure. If you find a super cute loth cat, but you can’t keep it, you don’t name it, that's just a rule of life. Don’t label it if you don’t want to keep it. Don’t get attached to something that will not stay. “Lord Boba? King Boba? Master?”
He snorts, “Not necessary, Angel. Though I wouldn’t mind that last one.” You blink at the old nickname, the familiarity of the endearment stirring up emotions that you’d thought had long since been buried. “I’m still me.”
“Are you?” The question slips out before you can think to restrain yourself, the tone more accusatory than you expected.
“Do you want me to be?”
Now you’re the one caught off guard. You had thought about it, in the empty silence while he was gone, when the bed was too cold and empty after so much time adjusting to his weight on the other side of the mattress. No decision had been made. But once, in the darkest hours of the morning, right after you’d made yourself cum on your own fingers that couldn’t hope to measure up to him, you’d wished. You had wished that you had labelled it when you had the chance. Because maybe you had wanted the relationship to stay.
---
“Why do you call me that?” The words are whispered into the darkness of another early morning. He’s curled around you, the heat of his body keeping you warm despite the freezing cold desert night. You need to start thinking about getting up soon. It’s a new day, a fresh start, a time to restart. Chores are waiting, like they always are. But you can’t seem to bring yourself to want to move when he’s at your back.
He shifts, breathing in the scent of your hair, “Call you what?” His arms tighten around your midsection and you wiggle slightly in his grip, your hips pressing back against his half-hard length. “Ohhhh, angel you’re going to start something that you won’t be able to finish.”
You turn so that you’re facing him in the darkness, his features just a ghost of an outline against the early dawn rays glowing faintly through the doorway. “That. Angel. Why do you call me that?” He grinds against you, and you stifle a whimper at his heavy erection against your thigh. “Stop distracting me.”
He sighs heavily, but he does stop and allow you to regain your focus, “I call you angel because of that first day. Do you remember?”
You roll your hips against his, “Hard to forget.”
“Yes.” His teeth sink into the bare flesh of your shoulder, licking and sucking until you’re sure that there’s a mark. “I was in that sandcrawler for days, it’s a haze in my memory. Just blinking in and out, hoping that the sound would stop, that the world would stop moving, that those damn creatures would stop jeering at me for just a few minutes.” Your hand slips down and grasps his erection, and he inhales sharply, “And--and then. They’re grabbing me and dragging me out of that hell. And you’re there, standing above me, framed by the suns. And my first thought was that you--” He grunts as he thrusts up into your fist. His cock is leaking profusely over your hand, and you swipe your thumb over his head, “-- you must be an angel. How could you be anything else? You saved my life.”
“Bold of you to think that I’m from heaven.” With a wicked smile, your other hand drops to fondle his balls, massaging the flesh in your hand as you continue to slowly jerk him off. He snarls quietly, hand anchoring in your hair and tugging your head back so that he has access to the bare flesh of your neck and shoulder.
“Now, you’ve become more of a devil in my bed, my angel of death.” His teeth sink into the juncture of your shoulder, no doubt leaving a mark. You were prepared for the pain, but you weren’t ready for his hand zeroing in on your sensitive clit, rubbing with the exact amount of pressure that could cause you to come in seconds, and you have other plans.
You roll on top of him, swinging your leg over his hips and positioning his head at your entrance, “So you try to break the arm of every angel you encounter?”
“That was your fault.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as his hands reach to grasp you around the waist. “For pushing me, like you are doing now.” His hips roll up, and your eyes roll back. The day can wait.
---
The surge of emotions only serves to make you more frustrated, and that’s not going to help matters. You may have a long fuse, but once your anger ignites, it burns hot and long. He knows this, and yet he continues to push you. “I came down here because I owe you one, for saving my ass. So you better talk if you’re going to keep me here.”
“I saved your beautiful ass twice in return.” He’s amused, and that only serves to make you angrier. “So you owe me two, one for coming and one for staying while I explain.”
Hell no, he doesn’t get out of this by throwing in a shabby compliment, though you furiously fight the rising embarrassment all the same, “No, the first one repaid me for dragging your dying carcass out of the sandcrawler. And the welding incident hardly counts, so you’re on thin fucking ice right now.”
“Angel--”
“No, you are going to stop with this pretentious bullshit and tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing.” Your arms are waving in the air, you’re on the verge of hyperventilating, your voice is rising in pitch and you’re vaguely aware that you shouldn’t be working yourself up like this, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care, because he’s there. And you’re here, at the foot of the throne.
“Why are you so angry, angel?”
A laugh explodes out of you so forcefully that your throat stings, “Your fucking audacity, is pissing me off. You leave without explaining. You come back, and don’t think to come to find me yourself. You send your incredibly attractive, what are you, his sidekick?” Fennec raises her chin in response, though you don’t know if that’s a confirmation or not. “You drag me down here where I find out that you’ve killed Bib Fortuna and become Tatooine’s newest crime lord. And yet, you still haven’t shown the basic decency of telling me why I’m here. Do you have to kill me because of some new fucked up bounty hunter code? Because you know that I won’t go down easy, whether you have me two to one or not.” You’re scarily aware of Fennec’s gaze boring into the back of your neck.
Silence screams into the empty air as Boba freezes on the throne. “You know.”
“That you’re a bounty hunter? I’m not an idiot. It was smart to not give me your last name that first time I asked. As soon as the hunters told me, I knew. Jango Fett was your father.” The name drops a bombshell in the center of the throne room.
“What do you know of Jango Fett?”
“Not much. Only what Hondo told me.” Hondo Ohnaka. The pirate, the outlaw, the man who had morals enough to take in a starving child rather than leaving her to die.
“Hondo Ohnaka.” He leans forward, clearly interested once he recognizes the name. “But you’re not Weequay.”
“Fortunately, the man cared for children. He wouldn’t abandon one in need. He fed me, essentially raised me.” You’d been caught picking his pocket. Instead of killing you, Hondo took you in. You feel the corner of your mouth quirking up at the memory of the old pirate and the small-time smuggling jobs he’d allowed you to help out on, with your small size and quick fingers. “He’d always remind me that he used to be a feared outlaw throughout the galaxy, and that he wouldn’t be as soft the next day.”
“But he kept you anyway.”
You shrug, “He lived by a code.”
“The pirate code?” There’s skepticism in his voice, and you don’t blame him.
“Hondo… didn’t exist by societies’ laws. He was honorable, but never good. Told me to be the same.” The advice was the best that you’d ever gotten. It allowed you to move on from guilt, to live isolated from the chaos of the galaxy. It taught you to live on your own and to be independent, to not feel for the suffering of the collective galaxy. But it also commanded you by the morals that saved your life. Don’t steal from the poor, but the rich won’t miss a handful of credits. Don’t hurt a sick child who’s just trying to eat. Don’t kill a helpless enemy, even if he hijacked your ship and crashed it onto a desert planet in the middle of nowhere. Leave him to die in the sand instead.
“I was stranded on Tatooine a few years ago. I had no money, and no ship. I found the abandoned farm, and put together something so that I could save enough to escape one day.” No communicator either, and you’d only just struck out on your own too. Hondo was lightyears away by the time you’d thought to try to comm him, and none of the technology was current enough to reach that far. You’re pretty sure he wouldn’t have come to pick you up anyway. “Whe--” Your voice breaks, and you curse your emotionally sensitive vocal cords. You clear your throat, “When you left--”
“You think that I could have taken you with me.”
“You could have!”
“It was dangerous, angel. I hated that I had to leave the way that I did, but--”
“You smeared bacta on me and disappeared. Was I supposed to feel happy?”
---
The day he left started the same as any other. The moisture filter needed replacing, but you didn’t have the credits yet. So you had a date with an ancient filter and your multitool. You look up, flicking hair out of your face when you hear the footsteps behind you. “Hey.”
He doesn’t answer, as per usual, but he nods and rubs your hair with a gloved hand. “I’m scouting towards the flats today. Only a day trip, I’ll be home before dark.”
“Sounds good. See you.” You turn back to your multitool. You’re too focused on tweaking the settings to allow for a greater flow rate to see him smile, a rare one-sided grin before he turns to leave. His path takes him south, so he doesn’t see the three dark shapes in the heat waves approaching from the north.
The vaporator beeps loudly, protesting the absence of the filter and loudly proclaiming that it needs the filter to harvest water from the atmosphere. You tune out the obnoxious sound. After a ten minute struggle, you snap the filter’s frame out of place, exposing the internal wiring. You’re going to need a smaller drill point to reach the last resistor knob. You walk towards the workshop, wiping the sweat out of your eyes, fiddling with the screen as you do so. You’re too distracted by the tech in your hands to notice the figure slipping around the outside wall of your hut.
You grab the smaller bit and unlatch the last knob, absentmindedly walking outside to get better light into the inner workings. Despite the heat, Tatooine’s afternoons were perfect for mechanics, with the twin suns illuminating all but the tiniest crevices. Unfortunately, with your attention elsewhere, it doesn’t reveal the crime syndicate members waiting outside your door.
The air rushes out of you as something slams into your midsection, effectively knocking you onto your ass on the sand. The filter flies out of your hands, but you’re focused instead on the helmeted figure standing over you, vibroblade levelled at your throat. “Where is he?”
Your hands are shaking as you raise them in the air, attention fixated on the masked figure. Adrenaline surges through your veins, and you almost don’t notice the second one hanging back near the wall. A third, the only unhelmeted one, stands beyond the first, smiling nastily. The blade grazes your throat, and you whimper at the cool metal against your skin. “I said. Where is he?”
“Who? Maker, please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fett! Boba Fett!”
Your stomach drops at the surname. The hunter curses viciously, holstering the weapon and grabbing you by the front of your shirt. You’re yanked to your feet, “Intel said that he’s here, so I’m guessing that you’re his little pretty piece on the side.” An arm presses over your throat, and you gasp as your airway is almost cut off. “Where is he?” The question is purred into your ear silkily.
He must be insane if he thinks that you’re giving him that information. “I don’t know, he said he’s going towards the Dune Sea today. I swear, he’s gone. Left an hour ago.” You inhale sharply as the blade stops against your jaw.
“You’re pretty.” Your stomach turns at the sneer, and you fight the urge to bite him. Better to bide your time. “But an awful liar.” The angle changes so that the point is pressing into your skin and you cringe in anticipation of the cut.
A sharp command rings through the air and your captor stops. You exhale shakily, but don’t allow yourself to feel any hope. Boba’s gone and will be all day. They’re going to kill you, or use you as leverage when he returns. Or both. You’re not getting out of this alive, but you’re not going to lay down and die. Your eyes fix on the knife in front of you, but you’re visualizing where the hunter’s holster is.
Blaster fire explodes behind you, and you duck as sparks shower down onto you and your captor slumps to the ground. You don’t waste a second, ducking to rifle through the hunter’s pockets, snatching the blaster. Boba is there, features contorted in rage. He’s standing over a body, blaster in one hand and his staff in the other. Your eyes lock, and for a moment, you can almost hear him asking if you’re okay. You nod your head almost imperceptibly, but he gets the message.
A laugh rings through the air, and the moment shatters. There is a single hunter left, the one who was hanging by the hut while the other one threatened you. The cocksure swagger tells that this is the one in charge, the one who gave the command to keep you alive. And yet, the favor doesn’t hold any value to you as the helmet tilts up at Boba, “Boba Fett. You’re a hard man to find.” Boba doesn’t answer, instead jerking his head and you move towards him, “Bib Fortuna wants to talk.”
Now Boba responds, “I don’t.”
“150,000 credits to me says that you will.” Another blaster(fucking blasters) points at you, and you stop in your tracks, fighting to keep your breathing steady. He’s only a few meters away, a dead shot if he decides to let his finger slip.“Because he may want you alive, but not her. And she lied to me. Drop the blasters, or I shoot her now.”
You slowly lay the weapon down, eyes fixed on the barrel. Boba does the same, his hands raising placatingly as the shiny metal plops into the sand, “She’s nothing to me.”
“You can try to tell Bib Fortuna that, but he’ll believe it even less than I do. I’ll cut you a deal. You come with me, I get my credits, she gets to live.” You focus on Boba’s face, trying to steal some of his stony calm.
Boba smirks, “You’re even stupider than you look.” Then he’s moving, eating up the meters between them faster than you can blink. The staff arcs up, the wicked point glinting in the sun before smashing into the hunter’s helmet, crushing the metal with stunning ease. Your mouth is still hanging open when white-hot pain flares through your shoulder. Fucking blasters. You drop to the sand, curling in on yourself as your entire body seems to throb in agony. There’s no blood on your hand when you pull it away, but the smell of burnt flesh almost makes you vomit. The suns are too bright and you blink rapidly, trying to get rid of the spots dancing in your vision.
A form crouches over you, blocking out the light. Someone is saying your name repeatedly, slapping your face gently as they support your head and neck, “Wake up, stay with me. Gotta get bacta on that shoulder.”
You blink blearily. The world is swimming before your eyes and nothing is focusing correctly. It’s a struggle to stay awake, never mind focusing on what Boba is saying to you. The sand is so warm. Sleep would be nice. You wouldn’t have to stay awake and focus on the implications of what just went down. You wouldn’t need to feel the hole burned in your shoulder. Fuck, Boba had been shot before? How did he bear it?
He turns away, but he’s instantly back, gloved hands ripping apart your shirt at the shoulder. You mutter, “Leave it. Self cauterizes. Best way to get hurt.” The suns blend into twin slurs of light across the sky. ‘Meteors,’ you think, ‘They look like meteors. Or shooting stars.’ People make wishes on those, right?
Boba snorts, “Bantha shit.” He smears the bacta on the wound, and you shudder as the pain lessens marginally. He starts talking as he works, though it’s a struggle to understand anything when you’re so distracted by the world spinning beneath you. “Angel, I have to leave. They’ll be coming for me. I can’t stay here with you. Do you understand? Tell me you understand.”
Okay. Okay, you tell yourself it’s okay. You’ve been expecting this day for some time. He’s a dangerous man, it was right to assume that he’s wanted by someone, you just didn’t expect the someone to be the resident crime lord of the planet he is kriffing living on. It’s hard to stay in one place for some time, but he did. For you. And now it’s your turn to let him go, to sacrifice for him because he sacrificed for you. But you can’t seem to bring yourself to say it. You have to settle for a shaky breath and a tiny nod.
He lifts you and carries you inside, arranging you on the bed. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, a second of tranquility before he turns and begins gathering supplies. You fight against the encroaching sleep, resolving yourself to watch and savor these last moments. He won’t be coming back, not while Bib Fortuna holds the bounty on him, and Bib has a long memory.
So you commit every detail of him to memory. His grim and stoic face and the deadpan sarcastic humor that you’ve grown to love. His broad shoulders remind you of the first time you met him. It was absolute hell fitting his massive frame through the small doorway of your home, only for him to flatten you to the ground when you moved wrong. His careful and smooth gait that you observed every time he walked out into the dunes and away from you. His lips, which sometimes wear that devastatingly attractive sideways smirk that promises trouble, but more rarely wear a genuine smile that you’ve only seen once or twice. His powerful legs that pinned you to the mattress more than a few times. And you wish on the twin meteors outside that this wouldn’t be your last memory of him.
You try to summon words to your dry throat, but they come out as a raspy cough on your first attempt. “Boba.”
He’s by your side instantly, so quickly that you would do a double take if you had any strength to do so. “Here.” He offers the water jug to you and you sip, remembering the first day that you met him.
But there’s no time to reminisce, “I know that you have to go. I know that I probably won’t se--” Your voice breaks, but there’s no need to finish the sentence. “But I’ll be here. If you ever come back.”
---
“You broke your promise that last day.”
“It was self-defense.” A huff of air echoes through the modulator, and he sits back on the throne, “Angel, everytime I kill, I kill for a reason. It’s not senseless.” No, that’s not what you’re talking about.
“You broke your promise when you left Tatooine without me.” You took a chance on him. You trusted him to hold to his word. And he’d betrayed that trust.
“I was trying to protect you. You couldn’t come with me, it would have been too dangerous. You have an entire life ahead of you. Coming with me off-world would have thrown it all away.”
You laugh scornfully, “So what, you just made that promise without ever intending to keep it? Is that all your word as a man is worth?”
“I made the promise intending to keep it.” His voice is stiff, mirroring his posture as he regards you with all of the bearing of a king lording over his subject. You hate it. “But my loyalties changed, angel.” You open your mouth to continue, but he cuts you off, “I couldn’t bring you into my life within good conscience. I promised to save you in any opportunity promised. My way of saving you was leaving you here.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“Angel, if you had come with me, I would have been violating both aspects of the promise. You would have seen killing, pointless and meaningless death. And it would have destroyed you, whatever good hope for the universe you had left.”
You scoff, “I am not a good person. I have flaws, Boba, you just refuse to see them.” You tear your collar open, revealing the tattoo inked into your skin. You’d told him that it was artistic, and it was the most beautiful reminder of your old life that you had. It’s the mark of a thief on your home planet, curling into your skin and reminding you everyday of what you had run from. “I lied and cheated and stole my way through life. I am not too naive to hear the real reasons for you coming back.” Because that’s why he didn’t tell you. He thought you were too pure to know about his job. He thinks you’re too innocent to know why he’s back. Well, you're done with him handling you with kid gloves.
“If you ever cared about me, you’ll explain why you’re here now. Because I won’t stay.” You stare down the emotionless visor, knowing that you can’t hold your ground. Your anger is still burning white hot, but it’s beginning to subside for lack of fuel. You’re exhausted, and you have no power here. You inhale, ready to continue to ream him out except the breath catches in the back of your throat and comes out a strangled half-sob. You continue to stare at him, but all you can manage is a little, “You promised.”
The suit of armor staring back at you holds the power, and he could kick you out in an instant without a backwards look. What’s a few solar cycles compared to a lifetime of independence? But someone is going to have to give ground here, and you’re almost convinced that it’s going to be you when he speaks.
“Fennec.” Without a single word, she turns and leaves. You watch her retreating back, not knowing if you should feel relieved or trapped. “Do you want to know why I came back today? Or that day?”
A rebellious tear slips down your cheek, and you scrub it away angrily. “Pick one first.”
He’s silent again for several heart breaking moments, and you’re terrified that you’re going to have to leave, “I didn’t break my promise at first. I didn’t leave Tatooine that day.”
“What?” The tears have stopped, and that’s one little victory you won’t have to fight for here.
“The day that I left.” His hand rubs against the visor of his helmet, and you can almost imagine that he’s rubbing the visor of his helmet, right over the bridge of his nose the same way he always used to when he was stressed. “I went to Bib and bargained. A year of my service to leave you alone. I had no choice, it was the only way I could try to protect you after they came after me.”
Your heart drops and rises in your chest simultaneously, making you feel both like you’re plummeting off of a cliff while bound to a torn parachute. Puzzle pieces click into place too quickly, laying out a picture that’s still unfinished, but one that you understand primitively. The next command from Boba is unexpected, slicing through your problem solving.
“Up.”
You blink, “Excuse me?”
“Come here.” You stand and walk to him. “Give me your hands.” His grip is gentle, guiding your fingertips under the lip of the green painted beskar. His hands stay on your wrists as you carefully lift the helmet, inch by inch, and it’s a good thing that they did because without his support your hands might have been shaking too hard to get the damn thing off.
He looks the same as when he left all that time ago. Same strong chin, stern mouth, and scarred skin. But you look at his eyes, and you know that he did change in the time away. There’s a soft look in his eye that you had never seen before.
“What happened to you?” Your hand grazes over his skin, and he leans into your touch.
“I fell into a Sarlaac pit.” The familiar sardonic smirk appears, but you don’t smile along with him. It vanishes, “I--” He breaks eye contact with you, looking down and licking his lips as if he’s trying to gather the words to explain, “I met a man. And a child.” He looks back up, and you almost melt at the muted shine in his eyes, “They reminded me of what is important. I came back.”
You gently set the helmet on the ground and raise your hands to cup his face. “Boba--”
“I came back that last day because I realized that I loved you. I turned around and came back to tell you, and it’s a good thing I did.” His hands come up to cover yours, and there’s the wicked spark of humor in his eye. “I wanted to stay, angel. I wanted to stay so bad, but you were safer if I didn’t.” Your eyes slip closed as you lean down and graze your forehead against his, the way that he taught you. His hand leaves yours to plant on the back of your neck and holds you there. “We couldn't be together until Bib was dead. I was wrong, to come here first and to send Fennec for you. But I needed time to… prepare.”
He had to prepare for the possibility that the bargain didn’t work, or that you had moved on. He hadn’t needed to worry, because you promised that you’d be here. You slip onto his lap, straddling his thigh without moving your head away from his. “I’m here.”
“Are you still upset?” A hand comes up and ghosts over your hair. You lean into the touch almost subconsciously.
“I’m working through it.” You pull back and fix him with a stern gaze. “This isn’t resolved.”
“But?”
“We’ll work through it.” He nods, his mouth hanging slightly open in a look of contemplation.
“I won’t stay.” What? You freeze, dread spiking through your chest. He must feel the tension in your body because he rushes to clarify, “I-- uh I, ah shit that was a bad way to put it.” He pulls away and meets your eyes, “I will leave this. I’ll be Boba. Not Boba Fett. Not king of the crime underworld. I’ll be anything for you. We’ll escape off-world together or some shit. We can go find Hondo, if he’s still alive.”
You snort, “That old man is too tough to die.” You tap his nose with your fingertip, “Like one other that I know.”
He snaps his teeth playfully at your finger, and you squeal happily. “My point is--” He looks up at you with such peace in his eyes that you want to curl up against his chest and never leave, “We can do whatever you want. Just the two of us. But I want to stay with you, this time around. That past life is all done. We’ll find something else to do, besides hunting bounties.”
Your eyes track towards the doorway that Fennec disappeared through, and his gaze follows. “Fennec will be fine. I’ll release her from my service. Hell--” He chuckles dryly, “Maybe I’ll leave the throne to her.”
That’s a terrifying thought that you’re not quite ready to consider just yet. “You’d give this all up for me?”
“Angel, that’s what love is. Sacrifice. I just didn’t learn it soon enough.”
You kiss him, a real one this time, melting into his lips, “Love can be compromise. And this is a point I’m willing to give on.”
“What?”
“I’ll admit,” You tilt your head, a mischievous grin sliding across your face, “Queen of the crime underworld has a nice ring to it after being a moisture farmer for several years.”
He smiles, the real one this time, “I like the title on you.” His hands attach to your hips, holding you down on the hard ridge of his thigh as he grinds the leg up into your cunt. “Makes me wanna act out, Your Majesty.”
You gasp at the surge of wetness between your legs. Stars, it’s been so long that you almost forgot how much you loved the feeling of his body beneath you. “Boba--”
“Ah ah, is that any way to address your king?” So this is how he wants to play? Fine.
“No, Your Royalness.” Wrong answer. One hand comes down hard on your ass, and there’s going to be a mark for sure. “Your Excellency?” Nope, and another spank burns on your butt. “My king?” You brace yourself for another, but the hand stays.
“Hmmm, I like that one.” His grip tightens, and you know that you’re going to have finger shaped bruises on the pillowy flesh. He captures your lips against his, and you roll your hips downwards onto his thigh. His erection rests heavy against the inside of your thigh, and you purposefully angle your hips to create more friction against it. “Angel, I want nothing more than to take you now, but--” He stands with a grunt, easily hoisting you into the air with his hands supporting your butt.
“--I’d rather taste you first.”
A/N: Okay wow this took me so long. This project has literally been in the works for months, and I found a way to finish it finally! I’m not sure if the Boba Fett craze has passed yet, but either way here we have Boba. Some throne-fucking for those of you who would care for it.
Taglist: @alliterative-albatross
#boba fett#boba fett x reader#smut#fluff#violence#daddy boba#could rail me anyday and I would THANK him#sir#just a crumb of cock please
234 notes
·
View notes
Text
( stupid and self indulgent but have it anyway <33 )
Steve really shouldn’t be lost in his thoughts considering where they are, though he can’t help but giving in to his overthinking while walking.
“Earth to Steve” Robin calls him.
“Huh?” Steve looks at her and she chuckles.
“I said that the Upside Down looks cool” she repeats herself and points her flashlight around them. “Disgusting too, sure, but also pretty cool looking”
“Please tell me you’re kidding” Erica replies, turning around to give Robin a disgusted look.
“I mean, she’s kinda right” Dustin argues. “There’s something fascinating about this.” He then goes on a rant about science and theories about multiple realities but Steve tunes out again. They’re here for Hopper, but he can’t stop wondering if someone else might be here too.
“A house!” Lucas suddenly yells and starts running towards it, closely followed by Dustin and Max.
“Be careful!” Steve and Robin warn them while making their way towards what looks like a hut of some sort. Steve knows Max’s heart is beating as fast as his; they’ve talked about him a few times but she doesn’t really open up with anyone because she knows they won’t understand. Steve gets it. He wants to be mad at everyone for forgetting him so fast considering they’re all still alive thanks to him, but if he did he’d have to face another truth: he’s mad at himself, too. He should’ve done something sooner.
“It’s empty” Lucas tells the others and they all go in and take a look around; it does look like the inside of a shelter: cloths hanging, the remains of a fire in the middle of the room, a handmade knife laying next to some vegetables. Everyone is whispering stuff along the lines of “holy shit” and “someone definitely lives here guys” and at some point Lucas and Dustin start having this back and forth about what they think it’s happening so when they hear footsteps approaching after a while they are all caught off guard. The group turns towards the door and Steve’s heart skips a beat when they hear the person say “What the...” and it sounds so fucking familiar.
Billy is as speechless as them when he steps in. He drops the knife he was holding and his eyes dart from one face to another until they stop on Max. “Oh...” he lets out and he sounds relieved but also a bit embarrassed. She runs to him and hugs him tight, one hundred percent sure it’s him. Billy hugs her back and whispers a few “shh, it’s okay” while she sobs against his shoulder. Everyone is suddenly aware of their bond and how little they know about it. How they used to have breakfast together every morning, sing along to the radio when Billy drove them to school, comfort each other once they got to know know each other, have inside jokes and how empty the house must’ve been for Max ever since she lost him.
Steve feels like he could to pass out at any given moment. He feels Robin’s curious look on him but he can’t stop staring at Billy, who has finally worked up the courage to stare back at him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” is what he manages to blurt out.
“Steve.” Max reprimands him.
Billy just shrugs. “Do you think I have any idea about how any of this works?”
“You-” Steve licks his lips and clenches his fists. “Right. Great” he mutters and makes his way out of the door. He’s so overwhelmed he feels like he can’t breathe, but of course going outside doesn’t change a thing. This whole place is suffocating.
He’s pacing around trying to collect his thoughts when Billy walks up to him. The blue eyed man just lifts one eyebrow at him.
“It’s just so fucked up” Steve mumbles. “So fucked up” and he lets out the breath he was holding, finally stopping his pacing to stand in front of Billy.
“Yeah” Billy sighs and his mouth curls up in a smirk. He reaches for the collar of the denim jacket Steve is wearing and runs his thumb over it. “You look good”
Steve laughs and rolls his eyes. “You look awful” he replies.
“Take that back” Billy smirks and sticks his tongue out at Steve. His signature gesture. And everything suddenly falls back into place.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fear Street Part 3
here we go:
- we love her already joking about marriage and reasons she can't
- this rhyme feels like foreshadowing because he's not blind - why does it exist, how did it come about??
- already got Hannah and Sarah flirting in public and the town drunk being a creep
- we do love Solomon though (for now at least) - and my brain just put together that his past name is Goode as in Nick Goode
- 'drinks blood of virgins' already sounds like such a nice lady
- if you find a book in a witch's hut that just has a list of demon names you don't start reading them aloud - that's stupid at least read in your head and show us the page
- just instantly going parting as if you didn't just get a horrifying prophecy about the devil
- yes Sarah protect your girl, insult the man and fuck in the woods
- I do like the dynamic of Deena being outspoken and not hiding her sexuality but Sarah being the one to push Hannah away and say that it's wrong and they shouldn't
- demons interrupting their time in the woods and the damn dog interrupting her self-care time
- HALF SIX and most of the morning work is done - it's still dark out and why didn't you wake her when you first started chores??
- also the fact that Hannah went out of her way to find Sarah and take her back to her house just to find a prayer passage when she's not meant to see her anymore is... ballsy - especially cause her mum comes home soon after and throws Sarah out the door
- pigs are terrifying if you think about it and also the noises of it eating its children doesn't help
- Poor Merryboy, he was nice dog when he wasn't making terrifying noises at the door
- yay Solomon for being the only non-homophobe in Union - also is the secret the seeing a possible demon or that she's gay and it wasn't a 'dalliance'
- he even left the eyes in a neat pile for ease of cleaning
- the horrifying imagery of the children lined up outside the hall like in the second movie showing correlation between Sarah's life and the people she cursed
- why are they letting the town drunk speak at the meeting like he actually has authority on the situation??
- is he trying to victim blame in a situation that he ran from and didn't see the conclusion of??
- at least all the other kids look guilt and like they don't want this to happen or their terrified of the curse but i hope it's cause they don't want to see their two friends get hung
- it's a stealth mission - clearly visible in in the grass and isn't being silent, throw something and instead of the person being like 'something was through and looking around the area for where it came from, spends 10 minutes looking at the item thrown giving plenty of time to sneak by
- she really said 'fuck all of them I'm gonna make the curse real cause they're a bunch of homophobes'
- the widow is dead time for a new witch to come to town
- of course it's Solomon should have put that together when I realised his last name because of the theory
- yeah you want to sacrifice one person but they get possessed and kill upwards of like 15 people which is a much bigger price to pay
- did he seriously think that Sarah would turn her back on the entire town and the person he cursed killed her brother?!?!
- that's a much more disgusting way of getting your hand cut off and least it explains why it was down there while her body was a car ride away
- wait punishment for witchcraft is hanging but they never did anything to the widow??
- I've just realised I still have another hour to go
- confessing to protect Hannah because no one is going to believe her if she blames Solomon
- I like these guys being nice and giving her a proper burial
- I've also just realised it's the same actor who plays Solomon and Nick, I need to go through the Imdb to find out other crossover actors other than the obvious
- at least the theories are correct that it's the Goode family behind it all and I'm not disappointed by the reveal
- first Deena stole a cop's gun then a cop car, Deena really does say ACAB
- yeah its gonna get a whole lot worse and that is so disgusting
- I already love this plan but did they seriously tell him their going to kill the Sherrif and not why - granted he just jumped in the car so...
- is there really time for a motivational speech right now when there are shut tons of killer after you??
- so glad we get the lyric songs back cause I don't think I could last two hours of a hour film with just 17th century instrumental
- but it's so pretty with the bioluminescent writing and neon signs
- I was waiting for the plan to go to shit and they just go after anyone
- okay that was very fast paced - but how many times is deena gonna cut open her hands and uts a lot of blood so its gonna be deep - they were on different hands so is she just gonna have two scars, one on each now.
- I was gonna ask how they're back in the cave system but the tree is there so the mall was built on top of the camp grounds so theirs obviously an entrance
- time for round 2 - I swear if Josh or any of them die now.. I dont know what I'll do
- well done Sarah finally making the Goode family face their consequences and none of the main 6 died in this film
- why does he have so many goats?? And is no one going to question why two girls covered in dirt and blood are walking out of Nick Goode's house??
- I just had to pause and cackle so glad it turned into a comedy at the end as that truck hit and then the music started with 'baby...'
- Martin in a school parking lot selling things to minors - has no teacher come out to check what he's doing cause I think even in 1990's that would seem a little weird
- Everyone getting their happy ending - Josh meets another cute girl, Sam and Deena have a date at Sarah Fier's grave - you know the usual
- of course ends on a bad note of the book being stolen but that was funny cause no one picks up an ancient time like your stealing a book from a friend that their reading, that quickly
And that's the end and I loved it and I want to spent this weekend reqatching all of them now.
#fear street#that was amazing#and as stated before#not disappointed in the twist because it was so well done#when i rewatch them#im gonna pay close attention to Nick's dialogue because it showed clips from 1978#and him being like maybe i dont want to be what people expect of me#or some shit#but he still does#but that moment of guilt(?) was nice#wish he would have stuck with it and not sacrificed people but#at least hes probs dead now
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
LGBTQ+ Harry Potter Headcannons that I say are cannon and JK Rowling can die mad about it 😊
Harry Potter is a disaster bisexual and half Arab on his father’s side
Hermione Granger is Black and pansexual as well as trans (MtF)
Ron Weasley is Asexual/Heteromantic
Ginny is pansexual
Fred and George are raging bisexuals
Literally none of the Weasley children are straight; Bill and Percy are bi and Charlie is gay
Luna Lovegood is a cottage core lesbian and uses They/Them pronouns
Molly Weasley knits Pride flags sweaters for all of her children with their own respective flags, fight me!
Arthur Weasley is very supportive of his children and always makes sure to educate himself (and others) every time he learns something new about the LGBTQ+ community
Draco Malfoy is fucking gay and you can’t change my mind!
Crabbe and Goyle are straight allies
Pansy Parkinson is aromantic/bisexual
Blaise Zabini is demisexual
Neville Longbottom is a soft pansexual ❤
Dean (bi) and Seamus (gay) are dating, fucking deal with it!
Cedric Diggory is a pansexual trans man and EVERY student at Hogwarts was in love with him! Don’t question me!
The only time Harry and Draco WEREN’T bickering (with loads of sexual/romantic tension) was when they were ogaling Cedric and complaining about how hot he was!
Hermione still went with Viktor Krum to the Yule Ball but Ron wasn’t all that bitter about it and instead suggested that he and Harry go as each other’s date. Harry agreed as well as suggested that they bring Luna along with them as well.
Luna was thrilled and accepted their invitation, making all three of them matching corsages and boutonnieres.
Sirius (gay) and Remus (pan) are married but they’re also polyamories so when Remus falls in love with Tonks Sirius is like “go for it dude”. So Remus starts dating Tonks and her and Sirius become good friends and when Remus wants to propose to her after a few years Sirius helps Remus pick out the ring that’ll match both of theirs.
A muggle born student gifts Dumbledore a mini rainbow pride flag and he sticks it on his hat like a feather. He hasn’t taken it off since.
McGonagall is bisexual and helped rally during one of the first pride marches in England back in the 70s
Once Hagrid learns about the LGBTQ+ community from Harry and Co. he asks them if they could get him some flags to hang around his hut so that every student knows it’s a safe place for all.
Hogwarts eventually starts allowing students to stay over the summer months if they have nowhere else to go or if their own home isn’t safe for them.
Harry knew he was bi since he was like 10 but he just didn’t have a word for it until he met Hermione (cuz she was smart and knew a lot of words)
Of course he never told the Dursleys this but one day (he was 14 at the time) he found Dudley crying in his room when he thought no one was home and Harry just had this strange feeling that he should talk to him.
So turns out that Dudley was bi too and he was not processing it as well as Harry did. Harry came out to him which somehow comforted Dudley a lot more than he thought it would; they talked all night long and it was the beginning of them mending their familial relationship with each other into something healthy.
Heromione told Ron and Harry that she was trans during their second year and she was so scared that they would reject her that she cried for a whole hour before being able to say anything properly. Ron and Harry comforted her the entire time and promised her that they would all remain friends no matter what.
After that if anybody even LOOKED at Hermione in any sort of offensive way Ron and Harry would go absolutely feral on their asses
It took a LONG while for Ron to figure out he was Asexual, like he knew that he liked girls he just didn’t wanna…go all the way with them.
He had thought there was something wrong with him because all the guys were always talking about their “experiences” with their partners and how good it was
At first he thought that maybe it was because he unknowingly liked guys but after a few curious make-out sessions with a couple of male class mates at parties he concluded that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t a terrible experience but it just wasn’t his cup of tea.
Eventually he caved and finally talked to Hermione and Harry who were both very patient and gave plenty of helpful advice. So in the end Ron found out that he wasn’t weird he was just asexual.
When Harry and Draco finally start dating every time they see Lucius in their range of sight they start acting obnoxiously couple-y just to piss him off.
Narcissa thinks it’s funny
Dolores Umbridge is a homophobe and everybody hated her even more (including Draco’s gang). This was the moment all four houses came together in perfect harmony and collectively fucked her over.
When Harry was sent to Umbridge’s office for detention and told to write “I must not tell lies” with a black quill he instead looked her straight in the eye and wrote down “raging bisexual” in all caps.
When Draco found this out he fell just a little bit more in love with Harry
During their DADA class as Umbridge was discussing Merlin, Draco made a disagreeable comment which led to a squabble between them. It ended with Draco rolling his eyes and scoffing: “If you honestly think Merlin was even remotely heterosexual then you’re even stupider than I previously though, you mythic bitch!”
The entire class was stun into awed silence and Harry would not stop making obvious heart eyes at Draco for entire week.
After double teaming on a particularly nasty prank on Umbridge, which involved replacing all her cat portraits with worted toads, configuring all her sweets into slugs, hiding spiders and harmless snakes in her desk draws, and changing anything pink in her office to a gross bog water color, Harry and Draco finally got together. They were caught by Umbridge making-out under the stairwell and sent to detention.
She tried to get them expelled for their prank but she didn’t have enough evidence against them to prove that they did it.
(AN: Please add your own headcannons that you think should be cannon ❤I would love to read them❤)
#harry potter#Draco Malfoy#drarry#ronmione#ginny x luna#Ginny Weasley#Ron Weasley#Hermione Granger#professor mcgonagall#hagrid#dumbledore#lgbtq#lgbt pride#Sirius Black#Remus Lupin#nymphadora tonks#wolfstar#gay#lesbian#asexual#biseuxal#pansexual#The Dursleys#dolores umbridge#nonbinary#fuck jk rowling#hp fandom
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
So @billy-baby mentioned That 70’s Show and Harringrove, and it reminded me of a *whole ass* set of hc’s about a 70’s/Stranger Things AU that has been sitting in my notes for literal years collecting dust, so here it is:
-Billy & Hyde would be besties, probably neighbours in the same shitty neighbourhood
-They headbang to hard rock and metal, jam to 60’s & 70’s rock while drinking TONS of beer and hotboxing the Camaro and El Camino, respectively
-Bands they’d have in common: AC/DC, Black Sabbath & Ozzy Osbourne, Scorpions, KISS, Judas Priest, Van Halen, and Led Zeppelin just to name a couple
-Hyde always gives Billy shit for like, never wearing a shirt, Billy gives Hyde shit for his ever-present sunglasses & sideburns
-They know each other’s parental problems, and take refuge in the Forman’s basement/the empty Harrington house (yes, we’re talkin’ a Hawkins, Indiana/Point Place, Wisconsin mashup here)
-Billy still has a major crush on Steve (Harrington that is, Steven Hyde will only be referred to as Hyde [and that possible name mix-up could cause some hilarity whenever anyone calls out “Steven”, and some embarrassing rumour drama for Billy, Steve, & Hyde (or omg a block party at the Formans where Kitty calls out “William! Steven! Michael!” And she turns around and has Billy, Will, Hyde, Steve, Mike, and Kelso starting at her expectantly)])
-Billy probably also thinks Eric and Kelso are kinda cute, but total dumbasses, they both definitely annoy him
-Fez would have a totally awkward and hilarious crush on Billy, and you just know Billy would flirt with him on purpose just to make him nervous (this might make Steve a lil jealous and annoy him to no end)
-Jackie would have the BIGGEST crush on Steve, after Kelso, and drag him around to go shopping and shit, he would tolerate it but Billy would absolutely hate her as a “bitchy rich entitled snot-nosed brat” cause she would be vocal about him being poor and he’d have to be calmed down by Hyde and Steve all the time
-Billy would give Hyde an unimaginable amount of shit for going out with Jackie, hooo boy!
-Steve would get a kick outta Kelso, but I think he and Eric would be pretty close friends, with Steve always pushing to hang around at the Forman’s cause Eric’s parents are always present, as opposed to his empty house (he adores Kitty Forman for SURE as the mother he never had)
-But the gang would surely hold parties at the Harrington’s....and only sometimes get away with it (both these groups are known for their KEGS! and the 70’s teens would lose their damn minds over Keg Kings Billy & Steve)
-Billy would put the charm on for Kitty sometimes just to see her blush, and Red would get annoyed and just a little threatening saying something like “Like to see how charming you are with my foot up your ass” and Billy being the abused kid that he is automatically takes it a little too seriously- probably flinches, goes a little pale, stutters out a “Yes sir, sorry sir”
-This would make Kitty and Red a bit concerned, pay a visit to the Hargrove household- I wouldn’t be surprised if they experience Neil putting Billy down or catch a glimpse of a smack or something and they would for sure take action with Red intimidating Neil cause you know he could
-Anyway! Girls. Robin and Donna would be THE BEST FRIENDS EVER, cause Donna had no other cool girl friend to hang out with and you just KNOW Robin might have an “itsy bitsy” (huge) crush on Donna, cause she’s Hot Donna, also they’re both super into female empowerment (and honestly, when Donna/Eric break up I could see her maybe falling for Robin too)
-Donna and Billy would be buds, she might like him for a hot minute but be cool with him being gay (Out of everyone in the 70’s gang, I think he’d most likely share this with her - cause she’d probably figure it out - even if it’s just to gush about their dumb, brave, pretty brunette boys to each other)
-Max would LOVE Donna, not just because of the hair (but also redhead solidarity is important), but because they’re both badasses and would totally vibe together- Max, Billy, and Donna would be an unexpectedly fun trio (and Billy would complain about having to drive the “GingeTwins” around all the time or something to that effect)
-And Jackie having to babysit Erica (because Donna does it sometimes, but she’s out for the night) would be the best thing ever good lord, Erica would put Jackie in her place, but they’d probably make up some schemes together too
-Also Erica would be absolutely appalled at having a similar name to Eric, she’d probably call him something along the lines of “Supreme Nerd” or “King of the Nerds” and have an endless supply of unimpressed looks for him during their debates of whose name is better
-Eric would totally join Mike, Will, Lucas & Dustin in their nerd exploits (STAR WARS!) And he and Dustin would get into loooong nerd debates
-I think Kelso would join Dustin & Lucas (and maybe the other boys too) in doing mischievous experiments including but not limited to: pyrotechnics, wrist rockets, radios and electronics... He’d begrudgingly listen to the scientific explanations of the boys (which would all fly right over his head) and they would have a moderate success rate, but also have to run away from the trouble they’d get in
-Lucas and Hyde would always be cool, but after finding out about Hyde’s biological dad they could become closer (Hyde’s dad and Lucas would have the best banter)
-Will and Eric would geek out over comics, and I think Eric would be super nice/supportive about seeing Will’s drawings
-Jonathan would be pretty quiet at first, but might talk to Fez since they’re both kinda the odd man out in each group (and he’d be genuinely NICE to Fez, *side eyes 70’s teens*)- then he’d be roped into doing random/stupid/mildly illegal stuff with the gang
-And despite Billy & Hyde being besties, I think Jonathan would bond with Hyde over shitty dads (plus I think Hyde would love Joyce, and she’d be another offer of refuge for him & Billy) and WEED WEED WEED
-Actually that might definitely be a sub-trio: Jonathan, Billy, & Hyde- they’d all have each other’s backs when it came to family drama (and later on when Hyde gets his record store, he’d offer them both jobs and Jonathan would be over the fuckin’ moon and work there)
-Billy would for sure work for Red in his muffler shop, and Red would take him under his wing, probably unwittingly become the father figure Billy never had.
-Nancy, hmmm, well she’s on the richer side of town so her and Jackie might be friends? but she’d for sure get annoyed with Jackie’s shallow bullshit
-OH and Robin would also hate Jackie I think, ‘cause of her entitlement and relentless obsession with boys (poor Jackie, I’m not setting her up for anything great here huh)
-So that’d be why Steve is friends with her, if only ‘cause he feels bad when she alienates herself from the rest of the teens, they (and I hate to say this) *could possibly* date for like 5 minutes, it’d be a REALLY hard time for Billy...and Kelso. And those two would probably come up with some hairbrained scheme to break them up (and succeed, but each get ripped a new one because of it)
-But at least the group of teen girls would be bigger if Donna, Robin, Jackie, and Nancy all hung out together sometimes (and if they tried to have a sleepover or something there would be toooo many idiot boys trying to creep on them, I think Billy would be the voice of reason and tell them they’re all being dickheads)
-And he’d give Fez a fuck ton of shit for being such a voyeuristic creep, probably make him stop hiding in people closets (wait what? Fez is like constantly coming out of closets in that show?! hello?? is that a thing??? Oh ho-ho they’d have a whole talk about that)
-Steve would get a kick outta Fez, probably think he was the funniest dude on the planet, as I’d say they’re the goofballs of the group (and yes, I am mostly excluding the King Steve narrative from this and using only cool mom Steve, cool? cool.)
-Steve might also have a lil crush on Donna, (‘cause a strong personality and blue eyes is like his kink, we all know this) but Eric would throw a fit about that and then they’d be all buddy-buddy discussing Donna & Billy (I think Eric being kind of a dumbass about his own gay kiss might put Steve off for a bit [and make Billy super hesitant and real pissed], but I also think Eric would be cool with hearing Steve out about his big bisexuality-discovery-adventure)
-Donna and Eric trying set Steve and Billy up by saying they’re all gonna hang out, and then like locking Billy/Steve in a room together or something and leaving😈
-When Billy/Steve’s relationship comes out, Hyde’s reaction is probably “That’s cool, man” Kelso would make some corny statement about how hot *he* is, Fez would probably fangirl over it with big ole heart eyes, Jackie would be like “weird, whatever”, Kitty would get flustered and then overly excited about it after a while, Red would be uncomfortable but okay with it saying something like “I better not catch you two dumbasses doing anything in my house”
-Ohmygod, Red as a father figure to Billy, Kitty as a mother figure to Steve, and they end up being so supportive of the boys ‘cause they have to put up with so much parental shit (say what you want, but the Formans have compassion) and they convert their house/backyard into a little private prom for the whole gang just so Billy/Steve can dance together and be themselves
-Billy, Steve, and Robin would die laughing every time they saw/talked to Leo. And I feel like Robin would talk her way into a job at the Photo Hut and then just end up being the manager and hires Jonathan herself to do the developments
-And you know how Hyde is always punching Kelso in the arm? Well he’d always get one, and Billy would punch the other arm as he’d classify Kelso a special kind of idiot, they’d always be teasing Kelso together, but Billy (and Steve I’m sure) would have some wicked BURNS that Kelso would love
-Steve and Kelso as friends? Sure, pretty boys gotta stick together~ especially when Steve gets called that by Billy, and then Kelso insists he’s a prettier boy, and Billy either rolls his eyes or flirts aggressively cause Kelso doesn’t understand WHY that’s Steve’s nickname, and it’s a whole can of worms you guys
-(And I didn’t forget about El, I’m just not quite sure where she fits in this AU... she probably doesn’t have powers and is the new kid who moves into town cause of a bad home life, she’d befriend Max in school and then I think Donna would take her under wing, then she’d be a hit with the teen gang cause she’d break her quietness with witty comments/one-liners, and since she’s very intuitive still, she gravitates towards Billy & Hyde and there would be some touching heart-to-hearts about shitty parental situations followed immediately after by inappropriate offers of beer to which she responds with a firm “gross”)
-And finally, *the Circle* would be so much bigger and funnier with the Stranger Teens in it
#harringrove#that 70’s show#stranger things#billy hargrove#steve harrington#steven hyde#donna pinciotti#eric forman#robin buckley#jackie burkhart#michael kelso#fez#johnathan byers#nancy wheeler#Stranger 70’s Things#no upside down tho just teen sitcom#ahhhh my hc’s these are just my brain rambles so like do with them what you will 🤷♀️#I really love both these shows so#in high school kids always said I was like donna lmao❤️#long post#😬#oh! and someone be nice to Jackie for me? I dunno how I could not get her into a good spot among the gang🤔#excessive use of parentheses
44 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
unfinishedbow
UnfinishedBow
shawnssketchez
🩸Shawn🩸
nextone1
A bit of Everything
minled2
MinLED1
s-a-n-z
Untitled