#seems so long ago cause so much has happened in a short period of time

[orsane]

[lovesick-feelings]

UPDATE: This is just a repost for the tags. The original reblog will be kept up! Original AU made by @soleilxe please go check out their blog they are a genius (๑♡ ⌓♡๑)

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I had to get this one out in case the DLC mysteriously dropped out of nowhere! (ʘᗩʘ’)

I absolutely love this AU so much! I am telling you rn that when I first read this I couldn't stop thinking about it and i was so sad that it was never expanded! So I ended up drawing a small comic (this is like my first time doing something like this so sorry if its messy! ) and that was supposed to be it but I ended up writing a short fic as well (⌒_⌒;) Btw this is just my spin on things so sorry if I made any errors!

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"Irreparable," the company claimed. It made no sense to Sun and Moon. From what they know the incident occurred the night an unexpected visitor came by. On the morning management came in, they were met with their main star missing, busted animatronics, and a disheveled mall. To think that the boy they met that fateful night caused all this was… strange, to say the least. At least they were perfectly fine! Yeah, they had a bit of trouble avoiding the flames resulting in slight damage but they were working! With a few repairs and replacements, everything would be right as rain! However, that didn't stop Fazbear Mall from permanently shutting its doors. 

Even after conversations they overheard between co-workers, workers leaving as soon as they arrived with salvaged valuables, and the final click of the lock shutting the doors permanently, Sun was in denial. 

"They'll come back for us! We'll just have to wait till then!" Although Moon was still troubled by the events that night, he still held onto hope.

"Yes, yes you're right. In the meantime, we should clean up~" 

"That's the spirit!" Sun cheered.

The first few months played out like this: waiting and cleaning up whatever they could in anticipation that the company or someone would return. However, those beliefs slowly slipped away with each passing month. Sun tried so hard to keep them distracted from their situation but it’s difficult when you wake up in the same hell every day. Nowadays when he tries to comfort Moon every word comes out unsteady. If only he could make them more believable.

Moon couldn't handle it. It was all his fault. If he'd just fought back none of this would have happened. But how could you fight against something you didn’t know was coming? The night he became corrupted haunted him endlessly. It didn’t help that they also became more beat-up after several failed escapes he made. Though he was grateful for his brother's support, it felt more like lies and empty promises as time passed. Failure after failure, shame, and guilt built up. It was always at his lowest when he felt the same corrupt urges he had that fateful night back.  

"SHUT IT! JUST SHUT IT! IT'S THE SAME THING EVERY SINGLE DAY! NO ONE IS COMING FOR US!!" 

"...sorry" Sun whimpered. 

It was always too late by the time he snapped back to his senses. It was like he was stuck in an endless loop of mistakes. All he could do was apologize and blame himself again.

With no business and no people to tend to days have been spent pacing and cleaning the decrepit daycare. Today was no different. Sun wiped his hands in the desk cabinet causing thick layers of dust to fly in every direction. Every item out of place has already been put back in its original spot long ago. All there was left was the tedious task of wiping away dust.

Moon never understood why he was so keen on getting into the smallest crevices. He couldn’t deny he had his fastidious tendencies but Sun always went above him. He always claimed it was a good way to pass time but Moon knew better. Even with the new body allowing both of them to be present at once Sun still was never the biggest fan of shutting down for long periods. Normally, Moon would push him into resting but Sun seemed to be in a better mood today and he didn't want to disturb him.

The crash of crumbling rubble made them jump from their spot. It was loud enough to hear across the daycare. Their eyes were drawn to the ceiling and they noticed a huge hole. Sun frowned. Was the building finally caving down?

"Must've been a rat"

"whAT?-" Sun choked out.

"What do you mean by a rat? A rat does not cause a hole in the ceiling to collapse!" Moon's only response was a shrug. From where they were it looked like it was around the ball pit area.

"Let’s check it to see-"

"NO"

"WhaT WHy?" Sun’s voice glitched from surprise. He didn’t expect such a sudden response.

"Because it's most likely nothing. The building is just deteriorating again…" He stated plain and simple.

"Well yes but-” Sun paused for a moment, “B-but we may as well check to make sure nothing is wrong!" Moon didn't respond. It’s going to be nothing again and he really wasn’t up for disappointment. Knowing Sun, they were bound to end up there regardless.

"Okay," he grumbled. Moon could feel Sun slightly bounce up. He sighed as they walked around the desk and towards the ball pit. As they continue their journey, Sun can sense Moon slowing down.

"Moon, what's wrong?-"

"Shhh listen" Sun paused. He didn't know what he was trying to listen to but he did so anyway. There was something in the distance. Were those… footsteps? The bots trudged closer to the sound quietly. For the first time in ages, their sensors picked up someone.

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"Dammit..."

This was your fifth time wiping your clothes off debris. You knew buildings like this had weak floors but you didn't expect it to give in that easily! You would say you’ve been through worse but you’ve never been through something like this. You’re honestly not sure if watching Youtube videos of failed urban exploring counts as an experience. 

This was supposed to be your biggest project yet. Entering the abandoned Pizzaplex had been done before but nobody had ever explored past the ground floor. You had one goal: Record as much exploration as your camera storage will allow, upload all footage to your channel, and satisfy the hungry viewers with the possibility of getting that sweet YouTube money. What you hadn’t anticipated was falling through the floor and being trapped in one of the areas 30 minutes into your exploration. Now you have to find a way out.

 You looked back at the ball pit and shuddered, thinking of what might have happened if it hadn't stopped your fall. Walking over the chipped rainbow bridge you pulled out your flashlight and observed what was in front of you. You had to admit the place didn’t age as badly as you thought! It has its flaws from the fire but you were surprised by how much stuff still survived.

The bright cheery colors that once painted this daycare have dulled to darker hues. Somehow the kid's chairs were neatly pushed into the tables and toy barrels were still stacked on top of each other. You looked over the massive play structure. They were still standing strong and tall beside some large dark spots in some areas which you assumed was also caused by the fire. A few of the giant mascot cutouts were hanging on the sides while others that had fallen were carefully propped up against the walls. When you shined your light on one of the aisles, the light didn't reach much distance.

"Geez this place is huge..."

You took a few steps before hearing a scuffle. For a second, you assumed it was some small animal. At least that's what you hoped it was. You were about to turn back when you heard it again. You whipped your flashlight in the sound’s direction.

"Hello!?" You kinda cringed at how hoarse your voice came out. You darted your flashlight for a bit until you caught it. You froze. How long was it standing there? You pointed your light at the animatronic.

Even from a distance, you could tell how huge the animatronic were. A split separated the two sides, which gave the appearance of two heads. Among them, one half had dark yellow skin and a crown that resembled rays from the sun, while the other half had darker blue skin with a nightcap resembling a moon. Each had two pairs of arms. Their clothes or at least what remained of them were tattered. Parts of their endoskeleton are exposed most noticeably on their face. Their glowing eyes pierced your soul. What felt like hours of silence were finally broken when their soft chuckles turned into hysterical laughter.

"NEW FRIEND!!"

"NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!" You bolted in the opposite direction of the playground. As you ran you tried dodging as much debris as you could without falling over. As you approached the wall you could see large wooden doors. That's the exit! You weren't able to slow down your speed in time causing you to slam your arm against the door. Thanks to your adrenaline pumping you couldn't feel a thing. You tried pulling open the door only to hear clicking noises. IT’S FUCKING LOCKED!!!

“New friend!”

“New friend~”

“New friend!”

Their calls were growing closer.

You looked around until you crawled into one of the kiddie slides. You climbed your way up, lying flat on your stomach. You were pretty high up. There was no way they could see you as long as you didn't lean against the bars. The metal grating grows louder as the robot approaches where you once stood.

"N-new friend please cOME BaCK!!" He wailed in distress like a mother trying to find her lost infant.

“Shhh you’re going to scare them~” You gritted your teeth. Yeah, like they hadn’t scared you to death already. Unlike the other voice, this one was hushed and calm. As if it was a situation he knew all too well. The other voice gasped and quietly apologized. 

"Where are you, new friend?~" There was intense silence. They let out what sounded like a disgruntled sigh before the scraping faded away. Once you were sure they were gone you took a breath of relief. You didn't realize you were holding your breath the whole time. Your heartbeat was so loud you were afraid they would hear it. 'What even was that…?' You tried to recollect your thoughts. Everything happened so fast that you couldn't comprehend what was happening. When you tried thinking back about what happened all your mind could replay was the moment you stared into their ghostly irises.

'Okay, that's enough…’ You sat up. Another deep breath calmed your heart. There has to be another way out of here. You peer through the cage. From your vantage point, you couldn’t get much. There were only two things you could see from where you were: the front desk and the children's pit in front of it. You had to get a better view but how? You sure as hell wasn’t about to sneak down again. You looked towards the bridge connecting the two playgrounds. Despite its aging, it still looked sturdy enough to cross. Maybe this was your chance? You didn’t want to risk getting caught but you also didn’t want to die either. Well, there's only one way to find out… 

A small knock made you recoil back. You turned your head to the slide you came from. No. There’s no way they could get in here. With how big and clunky the animatronic look, they’d probably fall apart the moment you hit them. 

Upon getting up, you were met with jelly legs. You're gonna have to crawl this one out. You navigated carefully through the colorful maze. The number of dead ends you ran into got ridiculous. Sometimes you felt like you were crawling in circles until you finally found it. You silently cheered for yourself. The bridge was only a turn away!

Something wrapped around your ankle before you took another step. Your head spins to see several pairs of hands gripping your ankle. You couldn't scream before those hands brutally dragged your body down the slide. The suddenness of it all caused your head to bang against a turn. You hit the floor with a loud thud holding your head. All you could do was lay limp on the foam flooring. What even happened? You could feel your head throbbing from the pain. A giant shadow loomed over your figure. Rough, metal arms wrap themselves around you in a cold embrace. 

“Found you, friend, ~” The two laughed together making a strange combination of a cackle and a giggle. You wish you could fight back but you feel so nauseous and weak. All you could do was stand there awkwardly as you got crushed. Dread overwhelms your body.

“We were so worried about you, friend! You shouldn’t run away like that! I-I mean what if you got lost or h-URT!?” Their grasp on you was tightened as he spoke. The voice coming from what you assumed was the sun’s side made you tense up. His voice made your ears start ringing. Was he always this panicky?

“Now, now there’s no need for that anymore.” His hand cupped your cheek tilting it so you could face them.

“It won’t happen again~” The drop in his voice made it sound like a death threat.

“Besides-" He resumed back to himself.

"Think of all the fun we'll have together~!” Sun’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh, you’re right! We have so many activities we could do now that we’re together!” They easily pull you up and swing your body around. 

“We’ll have soooooo much fun~!” Moon chuckled

“We could play charades!” 

“And tell stories~!” 

“Oh oh, we could finger paint too! I haven’t done that in so long!!” The two exchanged enthusiastic opinions about everything they planned. 

You honestly felt like you would puke. It was too loud. Your head was throbbed and your whole body was aching. Everything felt so overwhelming. You didn’t care about exploring anymore, you just wanted to go back to the comfort of your home. You tried holding back the tears brimming in your eyes. The robots tensed when they heard soft hiccups. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Your body was lowered, bringing you closer together. Moon’s eyes widened while Sun’s eyelids drooped when they realized you were crying. 

“Friend, what's wrong?” Your cry turned into a full-blown sob. Sun and Moon quickly sat down. Laying you on their lap, they gently rocked you back and forth with their arms propping you up. Your sobbing could be heard throughout the whole daycare all the while Sun and Moon tried calming you down. They rubbed circles around your back whispering reassurances. 

“It’s alright~” 

“You’re safe now!”

“There’s no need to cry~” Their hands whipped your tears away. Your body becomes less tense.

“Did we do this?” You opened your eyes realizing they were looking at your head. Their concern was evident. You flinched when their fingers grazed the area you hit.

“Oh sorry! I-I-I didn't meAn tO do THat! WE-”

“Sun.” Moon interrupted

“We can fix this. As long as we follow instructed procedures they will be fine~”

“Oh right right! Sorry about that, friend” You could feel their fingers tenderly stroking your hair. They cradled your body while whispering soothing words.

You could’ve easily pushed them away and made a run for them, but you didn’t have the motivation to do so. You were beyond tired to fight back. It was getting harder to hold up heavy eyelids and the animatronic also seemed to realize this.

“Shhh rest~ You will feel better after a good sleep~” You had to admit their voice was comforting. This couldn’t be so bad right? They seemed nice enough. So it was okay to shut your eyes for a bit. You lifted your eyes one more time to see theirs. If only you were more awake you would’ve caught their lovesickness plastered on their faces gazing at you. Maybe then you’d realized sooner the situation you were now trapped in. You felt two soft taps on your forehead, mocking a kiss before slipping into darkness.

“Goodnight, Starlight~”

“Goodnight, Sunshine!”

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[melverie]

So......about Solomon

Before we get started: Discussions on this post are more than welcomed as long as you keep it civil and constructive. At the end of the day, this is still a game about fictional characters, so there's no reason to literally harass others over liking or disliking a character If it truly upsets you that much--which is valid btw--than the best thing to do would probably be to simply not engage with the other party, and not harass them over it; you won't change anyone's mind that way. I know most of you aren't like this but unfortunately it still needs to be said Also, if you want me to add sources to some points, feel free to ask! I've tried to mention the chapters as I go, but I might still have forgotten some. Some of the arguments I make are also hidden behind certain player options; if you can't find them, fell free to ask about them and I'll gladly tell you Also also, general spoiler warning for both the og game and Nightbringer. I'm not really covering anything specific after lesson 60 in the og game and lesson 14 in NB, but I might still mention things from later lessons

Now, onto the actual topic. There've been quite a few arguments against Solomon in the past few days, but I mostly just want to focus on those three:

Solomon wanted to force MC into killing Lucifer at the end of season 2 in the og game

Solomon betrayed the brothers and keeps hiding behind "wanting to protect humanity" as a scapegoat for his actions (putting these two together bc I think they go hand in hand, but it'll make more sense later)

Solomon tricked Asmodeus into a pact without his consent

This entire thing is very long, so feel free to jump around if one point interests you more than another

Solomon wanted to force MC into killing Lucifer at the end of season 2 in the og game

[mainly 38-12, og & 38-15, og]

He did, yeah. But here's the thing

They were all forced into a corner since the fate of all three realms was on the line here, and with the Ring of Light's whereabouts still being unknown at the time, they literally had no other choice if they wanted to save everyone. It wasn't Solomon that randomly decided the only way to restore the Night Dagger's power was by killing a powerful demon, it's always been that way. And he can't just be like "Oh well, let's switch strategies then and focus on finding the Ring of Light" when the entire cast (minus Simeon) has no idea where the ring is and the last time any of them saw it was centuries to millennia ago, if not longer. They don't have the time to search for it considering all the destruction MC's Ring has already caused in such a short period of time

Solomon first tells MC to do kill Luci, only to add that he was just joking and knows MC would never actually go through with it. Then, he says that if they wouldn't do it, he'd do it himself. Which kinda sounds like forcing, right? Except this happens [38-15, og; pic below]:

He was prepared to, which doesn't clear him of trying to indirectly force MC, let's get that straight. But ultimately he drops it and accepts that maybe their only option really is to just die here. This is also the only time we see him acting against his beliefs btw

Also yes, Solomon might not have been the one that decided they needed to kill a powerful demon, but he seems to be the one that settled on said demon being Lucifer. The only other viable options would most likely be Diavolo and Barbatos. Don't know if the Demon King in his vegetative state still counts but similar to Diavolo, killing him would probably be seen as a direct declaration of war, so they're out. And from a strategic standpoint, Barbatos is the better option to be kept alive simply because of his powers. There most likely also is some kind of sentimental attachment at play here since Solomon is much closer to Barbatos than he is to Lucifer. None of justifies killing Lucifer of course, but we also need to acknowledge that everyone's hands were tied, they were out of time and given the circumstances, this was probably the best decision they could have come to (until Simeon showed up with the Ring of Light, of course)

Solomon betrayed the brothers and keeps hiding behind "wanting to protect humanity" as a scapegoat for his actions

First of no, he did not betray them. Ever since the end of season 2 Solomon has made it clear that his ultimate goal is to protect humanity and that he, similarly to Diavolo in regards to the Devildom and its denizens*, would do anything in his power to protect the human world and its inhabitants [38-15, og; pic in the point above] [38-19, og; pic below]

*friendly reminder that Belphie was charged with treason for planning to destroy the human world, since in Diavolo's eyes that would have severely damaged the chance of peace between the three realms [13-14, og]

Solomon continuously sticks to his beliefs. He said he'd protect humanity, and that's what he's doing. He never extended that kind of protection to the brothers, he never made any false promises, he didn't betray them in any way, nothing

I'd also like to point out he's not actively going out of his way to antagonize demons, or angels, or whatever. In fact, he even explicitly says that he does not wish to make an enemy out of either party [10-A, NB; pic below], which of course also extends to the brothers

You can even outright ask him if he's planning on backstabbing the brothers, and this is what he has to say [11-8, NB; pic below]:

And you know what? That is a valid concern. They can't say for sure what the future holds, and they just recently had to deal with the entire Ring situation that could have very easily destroyed all three realms, so wanting to be cautious and to be prepared for the worst makes sense. He also makes it clear that he does not wish to fight the brothers if it can be avoided, so there's that

And no, he's also not tricking MC into siding against the brothers in Nightbringer. Rather, he just wants to know that they're fighting for humanity should the relationship between humans and demons in general ever turn hostile. He puts the cards open on the table and gives a proper explanation to his reasoning for siding with humanity [11-8, NB], and once again goes a little further into detail before MC gives their answer [14-16, NB; pic below]. Plus it's up to the player if they choose to stand with him or not, and no matter what you choose, he accepts the decision

Also keep in mind that season 3 heavily suggests that the human world at large has no idea that angels and demons even exist, so MC is pretty much the only one he can even ask to help protect humanity alongside him to begin with. He can't just go up to a random guy on the street and ask them to fight something who's existence they aren't even aware of in the first place

Imo Solomon also seems to know more about where things might be heading than he lets on, with him actually knowing Nightbringer and whatnot, so granting himself some peace of mind by making sure he has at least one ally is perfectly reasonable

Also, Solomon is very much aware that he is not infallible. For example, he states that he realized he still has a lot more to learn about demons [60-20, og], and he even admits that he doesn't always know what the right course of action to any given situation is, which was part of the reason he first asked MC to help him with protecting humanity all the way back in season 2 [38-19, og; first pic below]. In season 2 he actually wanted for MC to be aware of what's happening, but it was Diavolo that decided it would be better to keep them in the dark for the time being [36-18, og]. He trusts MC's judgment and that they will help him make the correct decisions [14-16, NB; second pic below]

Solomon tricked Asmodeus into a pact without his consent

Before I get into anything, let's summarize the base situation so everyone's on the same page. This is based on the things Asmo tells us [53-16, og], as well as the things Sol tells us [6-18, NB]:

Asmo was trying to flirt with someone but their friends kept on telling him to leave them alone since he's a demon -> Asmo's dejected by this and goes to a tavern in Solomon's hometown

Solomon notices and feels sorry for him; he offers to talk to him and they chat for a bit

Asmo lets it slip that he's Lucifer's younger brother

they get drunk and end up forming a pact -> Solomon says that he was only able to forge a pact with Asmo because his judgment was impaired at the time

Right of the bat--yes, the way Solomon got his pact with Asmo is not okay. I'm not putting that up for debate. He fully took advantage of Asmo here, and there's nothing that can excuse that. I also want to make it very clear that it is in no way my intention to relativize this in any way. The way he went about getting this pact is, to put it simply, fucked up and I do not wish to condone that in any way. With the following points I simply want to explain how I see things. Maybe it'll put things in a slightly different perspective for you, maybe it won't. Now, I hope I made that clear enough, so let's continue

The way I see it, Asmo seems to be pretty okay with the pact. From the way he acts around Solomon in the present day all the way to him describing his reaction to the pact as just a "did I really sign that" [53-16, og], nothing seems to suggest that he holds any ill feelings towards Solomon, and personally I don't see any reason to be angry for someone who himself seems to take no issue with a situation that is directly about him

If it were as upsetting to Asmodeus as some make it out to be, surely he would have found a way to get out of it? Asmo is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom; if he truly wanted to break the pact he could have just killed Solomon and that's it. And if the pact itself somehow prevented him from doing so, I'm sure Lucifer would have more than gladly stepped in. Heck, I bet all of the brothers would have made it into a family thing in a heartbeat if Asmo wanted out but couldn't do anything himself. As Thirteen told MC, Solomon is immortal, not unkillable

But speaking of Lucifer, shouldn’t the same sentiment about forcing others into a pact be held toward him, too? Because he basically did the same thing with MC. This is what happens when you tell him you don’t want a pact with him [20-14, og; pic below]:

Yes, this comes down to player choice and yes, you need to make the pact for story continuity, but it ultimately does not change the fact that in-universe he forces MC into a pact if they say no

Also speaking of forcing others into a pact--Mammon and MC, anyone? Yes, MC did it because Levi asked them to so he could get his money back. We know they had no ill intentions. But you never know what the future holds and Levi literally proposed to basically hand over part of Mammon's agency over himself for the money Mammon owns him, to someone Levi has met about 5 minutes prior, knows nothing about and who's only been in the Devildom for a couple of hours at that point, no less. Lucifer also mentions that demons literally cannot resist temptation [4-10, og; pic below], so there literally was no way Mammon could have just noped out of that pact. We all know how badly he wants his credit card back, after all

To top it all of, we have MC's and Mammon's conversation in Nightbringer where Mammon explicitly says that he would only want to forge a pact with someone that is special to him [2-9, NB], and that he'd make sure to be their first pact [2-11, NB], yet he is forced into his pact with MC. A pact that ultimately turns out to be exactly what he wanted, but nonetheless he was stripped of the ability to say no when it was forged

And for the record, I'm not saying "oh, others did it too, so we shouldn't be so harsh on Solomon!!!" No! Forcing a demon into a pact isn't something that should be taken lightly. A pact literally means a demon hands a huge chunk of control of themself over to a human for as long as the pact exists. And on the other hand, for a human, making a pact with a demon usually means selling their soul. Neither party should EVER be forced into it. We of course don't know if MC actually sold their soul to Lucifer when they made their pact, but even if they didn't, Lucifer's "I won't belong to you. You will belong to me" speaks for itself

What I am trying to say here is that if you want to be mad at Solomon for forcing Asmo into a pact without Asmo's consent (which, again, is valid), you should also be mad at MC for forcing Mammon, and Lucifer for forcing MC into a pact

Anyway, back to Solomon now

Solomon actually admits that he used to treat demons like collectables--more or less, at least since he immediately follows the confession up with "just kidding" [14-14, NB]. Judging by what we've seen in the og game though, he seems to genuinely make an effort to better his relationship with the demons he has made a pact with, or at the very least with Asmo and Barbatos. I mean, the difference between Sol's relationship with Barbs in the og game vs in Nightbringer is night and day

In the present time, Asmo and Solomon are also super close. I literally cannot think of a single instance where they did not get along (though it might have happened like once or twice). You can literally pic any part in the og game to see their relationship play out, but some highlights include Solomon saying he got a huge oil painting of Asmodeus as his "permit" to summon Asmo across worlds [39-13, og] (which is not something you would allow someone you hate to do btw) and both of them mentioning that the two of them repeatedly hang out together in the human world [Proud Brothers, devilgram on Asmo's page, og], the hickey on Solomon's neck that's most likely Asmo's doing [Who Left the Hickey?, daily chat with Mammon, og]. Asmo (while drunk) is comfortable enough to tell Solomon that his cooking sucks and Solomon actually takes it to heart [47-16 hard mode, og]. Then there's Asmo's excitement at Solomon being in the Devildom for the first time [Proud Brothers, devilgram on Asmo's page, og; both of the pics below]

There's also that infamous chat pic of them doing face masks together (that I unfortunately don't know which chat it belongs to, so if someone could tell me, I'd appreciate it <3)

I don't know about you guys, but that's not typically an activity I do with someone I despise

So it's clear that current day Asmo holds no malice toward Solomon

Which, finally, leaves us with the way they forged their pact in Nightbringer

[mainly 7-12, NB & 7-15, NB]

@impish-ivy already went over it in this post, especially in the tags (I highly suggest checking out the reblogs as well btw), but to reiterate--Asmo was IN NO WAY forced into that pact. His brothers tried to talk him out of it, but at the end of the day Asmo willingly agreed to it. Yes, they were in a dangerous situation, and yes, Solomon used that as a basis to ask for the pact, but as ivy correctly points out in the tags, Lucifer could have easily handled the situation by himself, yet Asmo agreed regardless. By implying that Asmo was in any way, shape or form forced into that pact you're not only taking away a huge amount of his agency, but you also deny him his character moment and development that came with this scene. Asmo himself says that forging this pact will finally help him accept himself as a demon. Taking this moment from him is doing him a huge disservice

Aaaand that's pretty much all I have to say

If there's anything else you'd like to add, OR if there's anything you don't agree with, feel free to share! And once again, I'd like to remind everyone that civil and constructive discussions are more than welcomed on here!

Anyway, thank you all for reading, hope you have a great day! <3

[room-surprise]

When does Dungeon Meshi take place?

This is an excerpt from Chapter 2 of my paper, "Real World Cultural and Linguistic Influences in Delicious in Dungeon." Dungeon Meshi takes place in the year 514, however we don’t know how that number relates to anything else in the Dungeon Meshi world, so it isn’t really useful for identifying what era Kui is trying to depict.

It can’t be that the Ancient Cataclysm happened 514 years ago (it was still referred to as ancient history by Thistle and Delgal a thousand years ago), and it can’t be when the current elf queen’s reign began (she’s only 372), so it’s either marking some other major event, like the beginning of the reign of a royal family or the end of a war, or they reset their calendar at regular intervals, such as every two-thousand years for record-keeping purposes.

In the real world, 514 CE would have been the early Medieval era, just after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, which left Europe fractured into many small Germanic kingdoms competing with each other. It was also the beginning of the Asuka period in Japan, and the end of the Northern Wei Dynasty in China.

This has some similarities to the world we’re shown in Dungeon Meshi: the Western elves have abandoned most of their land in the Eastern hemisphere, leaving the local dwarven, gnomish and tall-man people (whose cultures are primarily Germanic) to fight amongst themselves for the land. A massive upheaval caused by a major imperial power collapsing.

However, based on character behavior, culture, clothing and technology, Dungeon Meshi appears to be set in a vaguely Renaissance (1450 CE-1650 CE) time period, with some elements from classical antiquity (800 BCE-500 CE), the Medieval era (476 CE-1300 CE), as well as some hyper-advanced steampunk/magic technology and modern day anachronisms. (Potential spoilers beyond the cut.)

The technological and artistic development of the different cultures is very different, with the long-lived races appearing to live a more modern lifestyle than the short-lived races. In the extra materials, Toshiro implies that Falin might find the Island of Wa “primitive” because they lack the social and technological advancements that come from contact with the long-lived races, and the Western elf Fleki calls the Eastern Continent a “primitive land” while complaining about the quality of life.

Based on this and additional evidence, we can reasonably conclude that the elven lands in the West are probably the most “modern”, followed by the lands in the Eastern hemisphere, with the Eastern Archipelago lagging the furthest behind.

Because of this difference between the races, it makes sense that we see a mix of different eras and styles of technology and clothing. For example, we see characters wearing Neolithic fur garments, Greco-Roman tunics, and Medieval garments as everyday clothes at the same time that other characters wear Renaissance and even 19th century-influenced garments.

Meanwhile, many things in the Dungeon Meshi world have also remained unusually stagnant for far longer than they did in the real world. Realistic oil painting seems to have remained unchanged for more than a thousand years, and Medieval-looking clothing that was worn a thousand years ago is still being worn in the “present” day, virtually unchanged.

There are also some things that are much more advanced than the Renaissance period, like steampunk elevators, and magical communication that works through birds/fairies/crystal balls/telephones and allows for instant contact across the globe… A huge advancement that should impact every element of life and society, thanks to the ability to easily exchange information.

In the real world, instant communication is the foundational element that makes things like precise time-keeping, time-zones, advanced banking, stock markets and news reporting possible… So one can assume that some of these things might possibly exist in some form in the Dungeon Meshi setting.

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 19 of Nona the Ninth

Very short, but probably the most horrifying part of this book so far (I don't want to speculate in detail about all of the things Nona did to herself to get free of the chairs), and even after sitting on this for like a month I still don't really understand what is happening here

For some reason I thought at first that she was somehow still in the classroom from before, but I see now that's not the case. This room she's in now seems to be part of a larger building, it's not clear if she actually left the building at all during this chapter, so possibly this could be part of the underground BOE complex that we saw earlier. She doesn't seem to recognize anything, but she's not really in a state to, I guess

I'm not sure why Camilla would have left her behind, or given her up to BOE? And this must be some other BOE wing if they think the sorts of safeguards they put in place here would actually stop her

I'm interested in where the first tantrum falls on the timeline, and what caused it. Based on what Nona has said so far, most of the time period during which she was "too young" to remember anything she also didn't have a lot of motor control, so it had to have been after that period, right? And what did the first tantrum remind Pyrrha of? I could understand if it said here that Pyrrha was just uneasy remembering the tantrum itself, but it specifically says that it's because the tantrum reminded Pyrrha of something else, and since this is Nona telling us about someone's unspoken thoughts I tend to believe it is correct

There's three people that Nona could possibly be, really, and that's Harrow, Gideon, and Alecto. Pyrrha has had some limited experience of Harrow and some extremely brief experience of Gideon in Harrow the Ninth, but I think the only thing that either of them did during that book that Pyrrha would be uneasy to remember was the soup scene and I kind of doubt that a barely-consciously-aware Nona would be able to do something that sophisticated, and I also get the feeling that Nona has never used necromancy for as long as she's been Nona - otherwise, I think they probably would have concluded that she was Harrow by now, and would not be entertaining the idea that she might be Gideon. But what if Nona's first tantrum actually reminded Pyrrha of something Alecto did way back 10,000 years ago? The other Lyctors did describer her as monstrous, and also like she didn't really know how to be a human. So it's looking more like Nona may actually be Alecto now. Or maybe she is just Alecto while having tantrums

I mean, I think the ability to hit something for long periods of time is also based on strength, it's not really a separate skill than hitting hard. Just in this case she does not seem to be experiencing pain or discomfort at all, so she just doesn't stop when her body hurts and just keeps going, it's basically the same principle as when people get flooded with adrenaline after like a car accident and are capable of doing things they shouldn't be able to do for a short period of time. If we want to believe that she really doesn't have the ability to hit the door any harder than normal, I think she would be hitting it for a much longer time than we see in this chapter

Of all of the adults that were involved in that sequence of events, I think Pash is actually the least at fault for everything that happened there. Well, Pash and maybe Camilla, to whatever extent Camilla is still a separate person than Palamedes, who is extremely at fault for everything, IMO

Also, the last time Nona was talking about Pash, she was saying how cool she was. I don't know if this is indicative of Nona somehow being a different person right now, or being multiple people, or what

Interesting that Nona doesn't seem to think of her body as being hers during this segment, I don't think she has said anything like that before in this book?

I do not know what "she opened her mouth to remember her teeth" means

That makes it sound like she is two people right now, or is being possessed by someone. But I don't know who in this situation would actually care if they were killing Harrow, or Nona, or Alecto - I don't think this wing of BOE actually cares much if any of those people dies, and it seems like they are in fact trying to kill whoever Nona is right now. So why would it make sense to say that to them? Or, since she is "talking to herself", are we meant to understand that there are three people here, and that the third person is telling Nona that she's killing Harrow by all the stuff she did to her body during this chapter?

[azudarlings]

long awaited SILVER HAS NARCOPLEPSY slideshow

(this is from his "How I Wish There Was A Cure" vignette thing / SR lab coat vignette)

In the previous screenshots, Silver just seems to be perceived as other people as very sleepy–Crewel reprimands him for falling asleep during a test, which he’s done multiple times in “How I Wish There Was A Cure” Vignette. He denies that boredom or anything is the cause, and based off the title of this Vignette alone it seems possible that Silver isn’t nodding off because he’s tired–it’s because he can’t control it. These COULD be labeled as “uncontrollable sleep attacks” WHICH are like basically narcolepsy. Narcolepsy is often hard to diagnose because people just mistake it as sleep problems and not the disorder itself, but I can see Silver trying a bunch of different sleep things e.g. sleeping early/later to see if it would help, but it doesn’t and he keeps falling asleep. I feel like he’s definitely broken a couple fingers because of it.

If Silver has narcolepsy, it’s most likely narcolepsy without cataplexy. Cataplexy is basically where you lose motion in some part of your muscles when you experience heavy emotions like e.g. getting excited or angry. If he does have narcolepsy with cataplexy, then the cataplexy isn’t something that effects him a lot and could be something minor like weakness in his arms or like his jaw twitching.

LIKE LOOK HES QUESTIONING PEOPLE'S ASSUMPTIONS OF HIM BECAUSE HE DOESNT FEEL TIRED FOR ANY REASON AT ALL HES NOT TIRED WHILE HE STUDIES HES JUST ASLEEP BEFORE HE KNOWS IT--THERE'S NO REASON OR TRIGGER FOR IT, ONE MOMENT HE'S AWAKE AND THE NEXT THING HE KNOWS HE'S ASLEEP AND TORN FROM A VIVID DREAM, BEING WOKEN UP BY SOMEONE WHO FOUND HIM. I can see Silver trying to figure out that something is wrong with his sleep because it differs from everyone else’s ‘sleep during the night and don’t feel tired during the day but it doesn’t work for him like that, Silver’s always drowsy, and he’s asleep before anyone knows it randomly, waking up to feel rested for a brief period of time before the persistent sleepiness follows him everywhere again. But everyone insists he’s fine and nothing’s wrong with him, he’s just easily bored or something which Silver knows is wrong, this isn’t normal… right?

No because if Silver does have narcolepsy it must be so frustrating for him–no one believes him when he tries to say something’s wrong, not even his teachers, and he can’t even control it. He’s scared something’s wrong wrong with him, something not normal, because he doesn’t have the reassurance of a diagnosis showing what’s abnormal about your body and if/how to manage/treat it. So he’s just left to the mercy of his narcolepsy to dictate his life and he can’t explain why he gets the sleep attacks to anyone, because he doesn’t even know why he gets them, so he can’t deny any of their assumptions about him and his sleeping…

SEE HE CANT CONTROL IT SILVER LIKE FELL ASLEEP LITERALLY WHILE JAMIL WAS TALKING ABOUT THE POTIONOLOGY SHIT. LIKE SILVER WOULDN’T JUST DOZE OFF HE’S WAY MORE RESPONSIBLE THAN THAT ALSO JAMIL GOT THERE LIKE BARELY THAT LONG AGO SO 

And then there’s people assuming whatever that Silver can’t disprove because no one knows why exactly he gets the sleep attacks

“patients with narcolepsy often describe what is referred to as “sleep attacks.” During a sleep attack, extreme sleepiness comes on quickly and the need to sleep is virtually irresistible. People may fall asleep at any moment, with brief naps ranging from just a few seconds to several minutes. They often wake from these short naps feeling much more alert and awake."

That’s literally a TEXTBOOK example of a sleep attack

Narcolepsy is most common to happen from early childhood to your 50s-ish, so if Silver’s had narcolepsy for that long, it could’ve just been identified him as getting super sleepy as a kid and then a “trait” that Silver had, instead of a sleep disorder. Narcolepsy is often under-diagnosed or hard to diagnose, probably bc it’s easier to just say you’re sleepy a lot and you can’t fight the drowsy spells like Silver did, instead of thinking, “maybe I have a sleep disorder.” I imagine narcolepsy is also not the most prominent disorder around–people might not even assume something is wrong with them in a disorder sense, maybe just something is up with them. Or until something serious happens, people don’t bother to get it checked as a disorder.

I’m just picturing a scenario where Silver says he might have some sleep disorder or that there’s something wrong w him (disorder) and then gets brushed off as “no you’re fine, you’re just really sleepy” or something like that and then gets told to try sleeping more or something. Feeling hurt because he can’t control his sleeping like everyone else seems to be able to. Maybe convincing himself they’re right, there’s just something wrong with him that he can fix and experimenting with sleep and nothing seems to work and blaming himself for it despite knowing he can’t control it because no one else seems to believe he can’t control it.

More evidence for uncontrollable sleep attacks. Man someone get this poor dude a diagnosis 

Oh my god he literally starts BLAMING himself for the problem bc he desperately wants it to be able to treated or fixed, maybe just to have a reason of what’s causing it in the first place. All that uncertainty and the “something is wrong with me but I don’t know why” and the isolation of no one believing him that he can’t control it so he needs to find something to blame it on so people can believe him or so he can have a reason for it

anyway yeah that was it enjoy the slideshow

[queen-dahlia]

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

»»———-Part 1┋Part 2┋Part 3┋His POV———-««

please just ignore my name in one of the screenshots

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation | ⫘⫘ : flashback

When I fulfilled my role as Belle, I received a pass to the court as a prize, on condition that I should not meet the king.

The purpose of the visit was to have free access to the court library, which boasts the largest collection of books in the country.

Today, I took that pass with me and headed out to places other than the library.

I thought that the place where a prince from another country would be staying would be at the court in all likelihood.

However--

Chevalier: ". . . . ."

(...! Oh no, I never thought I'd run into Chevalier of all people)

Chevalier is now His Majesty the King.

--Clause 99 of the contract: After the selection period, "Belle" is forbidden to have any contact with the King.

(As long as that clause is in place, I must not get involved with Chevalier.)

As I lowered my head and hurried away, I was grabbed by the arm as we passed each other.

Chevalier: "What happened with the eye patch?"

(... How do you know?)

(Don't tell me it's not a coincidence that we passed each other here...?)

The pressure I feel from the icy blue eyes is not going to allow me to be silent.

Emma: "... I don't know, either."

Emma: "I was just helping him find someone, and he put me to sleep in the middle of the search."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Just a short time ago, when I woke up in a bar, Prince Gilbert and the man were gone.

Emma: "Excuse me, where was the man who came with me!?"

Barkeeper: "Ah, he just paid the bill and left."

Manager: "He said it would be a pity to wake the young lady, so he wanted you to sleep for a while."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

(I'm sure I was drugged, because I didn't drink alcohol, but I suddenly lost my train of thought.)

(But why...)

Chevalier: "... It seems that he likes you very much."

I had only told him the brief history, but Chevalier breathed as if he had seen it all through and let go of my arm.

Emma: "The kind of a man who would have drugged me with sleeping pills and run away?"

Chevalier: "If he hadn't done that, you'd be looking at something you don't want to see right now."

(What does that mean?)

He does not seem to intend to give me any details, and his icy blue eyes stare off into the distance.

Ahead of his gaze is the guest room used by Prince Gilbert a year ago.

Chevalier: "I hear the eye patch is always watching you."

Chevalier: "Perhaps there is someone around you who is in contact with that eye patch."

Emma: "Uh..."

Chevalier: "Is it covert, or is it more than that?"

Chevalier: "Remember, he's watching you anyway."

Emma: "Are you kidding me? I'm not 'Belle' anymore."

Chevalier: "'Belle' must be a trivial matter to him."

Chevalier: "You have a more important value. I don't know what that is."

Chevalier is a man of extraordinary foresight.

Knowing that every word is true, it makes my blood run cold.

Chevalier: "The worldwide disaster could eventually cause an uproar involving the entire continent."

Chevalier: "Perhaps you are special among the pawns on the board that he has prepared for you."

Emma: ". . . . ."

Chevalier: "Eye patch is in the chapel."

After saying this, Chevalier flips his cloak.

(I don't have any idea what's going on.)

I stood stunned for a while as I watched his back as he walked away.

═════════════════

When I went to the chapel as advised by Chevalier, I saw a figure in front of the altar.

Emma: "Prince Gilbert, you are terrible."

Gilbert: "Ahaha, sorry?"

I walk up to Prince Gilbert, who greets me with a smile and no sign of apology.

(He's not surprised at all... It's as if he was expecting me to be here.)

Relying only on the moonlight shining through the stained glass windows, I confronted Prince Gilbert.

Emma: "Why did you put me to sleep?"

Gilbert: "Of course, because it wasn't convenient."

Emma: "What's the matter—"

Emma: "Uh... Prince Gilbert..."

As I get closer, I finally realize.

Prince Gilbert has a scent of iron that was not there before.

My heart froze at the disturbing and ominous smell.

Gilbert: "Oh, did you notice? I changed my clothes."

Emma: "What did you do to that man?"

Gilbert: "There are some things it's better not to know."

(... That's right. This is the kind of person Prince Gilbert is.)

Perhaps I helped to do something evil that cannot be undone.

My heart was palpitating, and a cold sweat was running down my spine.

Gilbert: "I guess I've avenged your good intentions..."

Emma: "...Why did you involve me? If you were looking for someone, you could have done it alone."

Gilbert: "Because it was my birthday."

Emma: ". . . . ?"

Gilbert: "I came to Rhodolite to run some errands. Therefore, I have limited time for you."

Gilbert: "I couldn't spend time with you if I didn't have you running errands with me."

(For that reason…)

(...It's kind of complicated.)

Gilbert: "I'm a bad person. That's why, even if I hurt you, I can choose what I enjoy without hesitation."   //   "I'm, you know, a bad person. So I'm not afraid to choose to enjoy myself even if it hurts you."

Emma: ". . . . ."

Gilbert: "... I was waiting for you to come in, but my body got cold."   //   "I was waiting for you to come in, but I got so cold."

Gilbert: "If that's all there is to say, then I should go."

(...I have no way of knowing what Prince Gilbert did.)

It just smelled ominous. I don't know anything else about it.

Prince Gilbert didn't seem to intend to tell me, and quickly turned on his heel.

(I only know one thing… You've been waiting for me in the chapel all this time in this cold weather.)

This is a secluded place.

If I were to enter Prince Gilbert's guest room, I might be suspected of something.

A chapel would reduce that concern.

Even with such consideration, Prince Gilbert had something he wanted from me.

I may have had to interrupt thanks to some errands or something, but…

I'm sure he meant it when he said 'I came to see you because it's my birthday.'

(I guess he wanted to celebrate.)

(... Even though he is such a bad person.)

«sound of cane»

His back was turned away from me, and he seemed to be lonely.

(Uhm... Just for today, just for today, try not to think about anything else.)

I reach out to Prince Gilbert and hug him from behind to hold him back.

The unusually cold body temperature took my breath away.

Gilbert: "What?"

Emma: "I told you not to betray me, but you're the worst."

Gilbert: "Oh, man, I didn't even promise you I wouldn't betray you, did I?"

Emma: "Is that so. …I didn't believe in it much either."

Gilbert: "Ahaha, you're smart, aren't you?"

Emma: "On top of that, I'll say it."

Emma: "Happy Birthday."

While feeling the cold body temperature and the scent reminiscent of blood, I spoke.

Perhaps Prince Gilbert has been waiting to hear these words.

Gilbert: "You have a heart of steel, huh?"

Emma: "... I don't think so. It still hurts so bad I feel like I'm going to spit up blood."

Gilbert: "And yet you're celebrating?"

Gilbert: "I may have just done some bad things, as you might have guessed."

Emma: "I… I try to believe only in what I see."

Emma: "All I saw today was Prince Gilbert, who seemed to be enjoying himself throughout the day."

Emma: "The feeling that you stopped by Rhodolite and wanted to see me was genuine, too."

Gilbert: ". . . . ."

Emma: "Even though you're a big villain, I was happy to feel that way, so..."

Emma: "I honestly wanted to celebrate."

(I wonder if I will regret it when I know everything.)

(... I wonder if I'm going to lament that I shouldn't have celebrated Prince Gilbert's birth.)

I don't know now, but a year ago I was in the fangs of a trampling beast.

Even though I knew I might be betrayed, I also wanted to believe in the goodness of Prince Gilbert.

(To be honest, I was and still am scared to death to the point of shaking.)

Gilbert: "... Really, you're so repulsively stupid."

Contrary to the thorn in his words, Prince Gilbert's expression is soft.

(... Why do you look like that?)

(Can you hear me now?) **

Emma: "Prince Gilbert... What am I to you?"

I tried presenting the question that came up in the conversation with Chevalier as it is.

Prince Gilbert's reply was quicker than I expected.

Gilbert: "... Last hope, perhaps?"

(... What does that mean?)

The word 'last' is the only one that strangely pierces my heart, though I can only think of a few question marks.

(Prince Gilbert…)

(I wonder what kind of secrets you're hiding.)

Gilbert: "By the way, by the looks of it, you're going to celebrate with me, right?"

Prince Gilbert spun around, slipped out of my arms and smiled refreshingly.

I felt firsthand that the atmosphere of the place had changed.

Gilbert: "How are you going to celebrate this year? Of course, you won't run away, will you?"

Emma: "Well, if you want to celebrate, we just did."

Gilbert: "My birthday is not over yet, right?"

(... You mean it's not enough at all.)

Emma: "What do you want?"

Gilbert: "It's cold."   //   "I'm cold."

Prince Gilbert faces me with his arms outstretched.

(Oh, you mean warm up!?)

(... I don't mind hugging him on his back, but not from the front…)

However, I cannot refuse Prince Gilbert's 'request'.

I approached him fearfully in shame and gently put my hands behind his back.

Emma: "Is this what you want?"

Gilbert: "Yes, well done."

Emma: "...It seems modest for a celebration…"

Gilbert: "Do you hug anyone?"   //   "Do you hug everyone?"

Emma: "No, of course not!"

Gilbert: "Right?"

(... Come to think of it, Prince Gilbert has always been so close to me that I've become numb to the sensation.)

When I am aware of it, my heart beats strangely fast.

(I mean, to begin with, this is all you want for your birthday…)

(I'm about to make a strange mistake.)

Gilbert: "Hmmm... Your heart beat is so busy. What are you thinking and feeling right now?"

While hugging me tight, Prince Gilbert whispers sweetly in my ear.

Gilbert: "Tell me what your heartbeat means."

(. . . . .)

Emma: "... I wish I knew."   //   "... I'd like to know."

(I guess this is one of the 'trampling' in Prince Gilbert's words.)

What do you want with me? What do you want to do?

Prince Gilbert does not lie, but he also has many secrets.

Emma: "I'm sure I'm nervous because I'm scared."

Gilbert: "Yeah, because you can smell the blood on a bad guy."

(Yes, he's bad... I'm scared.)

(... I celebrated his birthday as a matter of course. …And I'm so careless that I'm tempted to believe in his goodness.)

I can't hate him even though I know he's a bad person - perhaps the feeling will eventually become so poisonous that I will regret it.

Even though I knew that, I had to wait until Prince Gilbert's body warmed up.

In the chilly chapel, my heart beat calmly, and I continued to embrace his body.

»»———-Part 1┋Part 2┋Part 3┋His POV———-««

[jennyboom21]

As a football fan, it’s not uncommon to see big NFL stars date celebrities. When I was growing up in Pittsburgh, the Steelers’ quarterback Terry Bradshaw dated figure skater JoJo Starbuck. That was such a big deal at the time. For a brief period, they were the "it couple."

Now, that pairing seems so simple.

A few years ago quarterback Russell Wilson, when he was with the Seattle Seahawks, married global singing superstar Ciara. Before their nuptials, it was Tom Brady, who of course married supermodel Gisele Bündchen. Sadly, the two divorced last year. Then, Brady made big headlines in late summer with rumors he was dating another model, Irina Shayk.

That pairing seems so simple now.

This weekend, the Miami Dolphins scored 70 points in their win against the Denver Broncos, whose quarterback is Wilson. Presumably, Wilson was consoled by his famous wife after that embarrassing defeat. The Dolphins had a total offense of 726 yards, just nine yards short of the NFL's all-time record set by the Los Angeles Rams way back in 1951.

During any other weekend, the Dolphins's history-making win would dominate sports news, and spill into general news as well, because wins and yardage like that are unheard of, even in a league where high passing and high-scoring games are the norm.

Also on Sunday night, the plane carrying my beloved Steelers was forced to land in Kansas City, Mo., on their way back from Las Vegas after defeating the Raiders. That, too, would be huge sports news and general news, but alas, the emergency landing in Kansas City wasn't the biggest thing to even happen in that city on Sunday.

Earlier in the day, Taylor Swift appeared in a private box at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City, to watch the Chiefs manhandle the Chicago Bears 41-10. Presumably, Swift wasn’t there as a Chiefs fan or to watch the action. She was there to watch her new beau, the Chiefs's tight-end, Travis Kelce — who scored a touchdown probably just to show off. Images of Swift cheering and screaming for Kelce in that private box with his family almost crashed social media.

Is Swift dating Kelce? Well, who knows, and you might say, who cares? But, a lot of the world cares, to put it bluntly. Starbuck, Ciara, and Gisele pale in comparison to the enormity of Swift. If Swift decided to date a tree, that tree would become a top tourist destination.

It’s called the Swift effect; similar it seems to the Oprah effect. Everything Swift touches turns to gold. Swift walked hand-in-hand with Kelce out of Arrowhead Stadium Sunday after the game, and since then, sales of Kelce’s #87 Chiefs’ jersey have soared over 400 percent, according to TMZ.

This relationship between Swift and Kelce – whatever or however long it is – has also caused the interwebs to almost crash. Young women and young gay men around the world are Googling “Travis Kelce” to find out all they can about Swift’s new hunk of a football player boyfriend – or acquaintance?

Similarly, many of the gay “Swifties” I know were reaching out to me on Sunday about Kelce. They know I’m a football fan, so they had many questions for me; Is Kelce any good Where is he from? Who are the Chiefs? Is he a homophobe?

Kelce is good, in fact, he’s one of the best tight ends in the NFL. Kelce has an older brother, Jason who plays for the Philadelphia Eagles. Their mother Donna has become somewhat of a celebrity herself. During the Super Bowl last year, where Travis’s team the Chiefs beat Jason's team, the Eagles, Donna was all over the place. The ultimate football mother. Happy for one son. Sad for the other. And now? After her picture alongside Swift ran wild over social media and the news on Sunday, Mrs. Kelce is the third biggest and current global superstar, behind Taylor and Travis.

As a side note, and for those who are obsessed with garnering as much knowledge about Kelce as they can get, this year’s Super Bowl win was his second win; the first being in 2020 when Kelce and the Chiefs defeated the San Francisco 49ers.

The Kelce brothers are creating a cottage industry for themselves. They have their own podcast, New Heights with Jason and Travis Kelce, and they have a documentary, Kelce, on Prime Video that is more about Jason, with Travis making frequent appearances. It’s actually pretty good, even if you’re not a football fan. Not to be outdone by his brother, Travis had a reality show on E! called Catching Kelce, that featured 50 women from 50 states in a dating competition. I guess Taylor decided to wait until the dust cleared with that many women pining for Kelce?

There’s no doubt in the world that every Swifty is downloading all the episodes of that The Bachelor riff, so that they can find out how to catch Kelce too, or about how Swift caught Kelce.

Finally, Travis Kelce is anything but a homophobe. Kelce told Outsports at the 2017 Pro Bowl (this is the game that features the NFL’s best players) that he’d support a gay teammate. “Anybody in this world [can play]. I’m comfortable with who I am and I expect everyone to be comfortable with who they are. I respect people for their views and opinions.”

And here’s a story about why you can love Kelce even if you’re not a Swifty or even a Gaylor — which is a subgroup of Swift fans who believe Taylor Swift is actually queer. In July, Bud Light released a commercial starring Kelce. In any other year, that wouldn’t raise an eyebrow, but we all know what happened with Bud Light in April with the Dylan Mulvaney imbroglio, and Bud Light’s inexcusable reaction to the extreme right boycotting the beer.

In the face of that boycott, by angry cisgender straight white men who were shooting cans of Bud Light or pouring them down the drain, Kelce metaphorically flipped them the bird by swigging the beer. And for his bravery and f-you attitude towards the narrow-minded, they retaliated by calling for a boycott of Kelce and by calling him "woke." (How do you boycott a human being, let alone one that is 6’5” and weighs 250 pounds?) Kelce could have cared less about what they thought of him endorsing Bud Light. In fact, he was seen drinking the beer at a golf tournament soon after the ad was released.

This week, Kelce released a video announcing his partnership with Pfizer as part of an educational campaign to remind people to get their flu and COVID-19 vaccine shots, preferably at the same time. In his Instagram video, Kelce says, “With my schedule, saving time is key. The CDC says you can get this season’s updated COVID-19 shot when you get your flu shot if you’re due for both. That’s why I got two shots in one stop! Ask your doctor or pharmacist if it would be right for you. You can also visit CDC’s vaccines.gov to learn more and schedule an appointment.”

As you can imagine, the anti-vaxxers and the extreme right are horrified that Kelce is endorsing the same "phooey" and hawking the same “poisons” that their number one vaxxing nemesis Dr. Fauci championed. For his efforts, Kelce is a champion too.

Finally, Kelce hosted Saturday Night Live earlier this year after winning the Super Bowl, and appeared in a memorable sketch with Bowen Yang as his “Straight Male Friend,” as Yang's character seeks some balance after being the one gay guy in a group of straight women.

While the world tries to dissect Kelce in every imaginable way possible, as they scoop up his jersey in record numbers, we can take some solace in the fact that Kelce will have no problem with queer Swifties or even the Gaylors.

One of my gay Swifty friends asked me what the story is with Travis's hunky brother Jason. I was sorry to tell him that he is happily married to his wife Kylie, and that they have three young daughters who will be the envy of young girls worldwide some day soon, when they get a new Aunt Taylor.

[lycantranny]

2023

Well, it’s over, and we move onto the next course. This year has undoubtedly been the greatest of my life. That might seem like a bold statement, but I can assure you of the genuine sentiment I’m trying to express. I finally had a year that didn’t entail a brief period of glory followed by a swath of dark ruin, or an entire year of emptiness with some brief moments of well needed (if selfishly taken) joy. The development and direction of Heart, my first short film, was absolutely life changing, and I hope it served as a similarly valuable experience for my cast and crew. The folks I worked on that film with are among the greatest of the world as I see it, and I love them with all that I can love with. My journey into therapy and my transition both have played a role in saving my life, actualizing the changes I made at the end of last year, and ultimately giving me this new, fresh chance.

At the start of the year, I was coming off of an experience that reinvigorated my love for film and storytelling, after 2 hard years of losing sight of that and becoming lost. I had met an idol, and I had written my first feature length script. I set out for work to save up a budget for a film called “What Day Is It?”, which later became Heart. Over the next 8 months, I felt more like myself than ever before, I was doing what I loved, and I knew for certain by this point that my life would become meaningless if ever decided for a moment to not dedicate it to storytelling. The people I either met or got to know better by collaborating with them and letting them learn as much as I was learning made me like people again, made me care once again about pathos and human connection. Right after that, I started my transition, and this holiday season has been a great cyclone of emotions. I feel so much more than I did prior to HRT, more than I’ve felt since 5 years ago. Smiles are easier to not have to fake and I’m interacting with the world with one less layer getting in the way and softening impacts.

This isn’t to say there were never spiritual, emotional, or physical challenges. There were, and I want to list them here. Around when the weather began to warm up, I entered a period of extreme anxiety that was spurred solely by the nature of my social life at that stage, and this led me to attend therapy, where I was diagnosed with PTSD. In the summer I had an experience on the set of Heart that is responsible for the final product in every way, because it was the first time a shoot had spiraled out of my control, and I was feeling as spiritually damaged as I could the day after. To everyone that was there, your criticism brought our film to something greater than it would’ve been otherwise. I eventually made a realization about someone I briefly considered a like-minded friend. I experienced a litany of physical predicaments that were completely miserable. Re-realizing that I was transgender, in a lot of ways, only made my dysphoria worse, and in that gray space between coming out to myself and actually transitioning it was often debilitating. But for the first time in so long, these struggles were never anhedonic, they were always truly emotional experiences that I actually felt things over. More than anything, I hate feeling like I’m being bled out by circumstances that I can hardly even figure a cause for, and I’m so glad to be able to say that didn’t happen this year.

As I write this, I’m packing up my bedroom to head off to Olympia to attend The Evergreen State College. I personally count Heart as a full year of college experience, and I think its existence is part of what got me in. I can recall thinking about Evergreen a lot during creative peaks during high school, so here’s to hoping that it goes well.

Thank you everyone. Here’s to 2023. :)

[modx-reborn]

So idk if you've discussed professor simpbur with reader crushing on him, but what about teachers assistant reader?

Like this beloved greasy rat man is just failing every single class except for the one you are assisting teaching in. Does he pay any attention to the teacher? Absolutely not. Is his attention on the way you furrow your eyebrows and put your hair up as you focus on grading papers? ✨YES✨.

It's not that he finds the class difficult. He would just rather his attention be on you, which is why he was failing. After being scolded by the professor for his grade, you kindly offered your assistance to stay a few minutes after class to help with what you could. He was in the last class of the day so you had the time and he seemed friendly enough not to mention handsome af.

After a few minutes the professor got bored and left (ik this would never happen but bare with me), trusting you to help him then close up the classroom. The second he steps out of the room it's like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He becomes a little more confident and begins asking questions about you. Of course he already knew the answers, he just wanted to hear you keep talking.

This continued on for a couple of week before he broke one day. Maybe it was because he had been holding himself back too long, maybe it was because your skirt was too short or your perfume was smelling so sweet, but he snapped. He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you with all the pent up passion he held. Simpbur has you to the wall in seconds, hands attached to your body, groping every crevice with adoration, lips traveling down your neck, and hips grinding into your groin in stuttered but purposeful movements.

~~~

I haven't written something like this in a while so sorry if this is full of mistakes! I am but a simple whore for the stalker boi. I'm kinda new to the blog so I am do sorry if any of this crosses your boundries and let me know what I can fix!!! Have a great day/evening! :)

(Also, could I be 🍎 anon? Idk if you need to know my pronouns but they are she/they.)

Hell yeah, you can be! Welcome to the wormhole 🍎!

It was you, it was always going to be you, you were the reason he paid attention why he strove to succeed or well in your class at least, all the other could be forgotten and ignored but here with you and the dullard of a lecturer you assisted all he could do was work eager for those smiles he got from you, longing for the days when you wore a loos button up with the top few undone and he could see the curve of your neck so clearly, he would overwork and overachieve if you would keep looking at him.

And yet if he wanted more time with you he would have to mess it all up, see you pout and be disappointed as the lecturer scolds him telling him he expected better from him and that he should ask more questions if he is unsure next time, and you. You pout yes, but are swift to wonder over to his seat during a reading session in class to offer to help him if he is willing to stay back after the class, taking the eager way he nods as nothing more than happy for the help, not the true eagerness of being able to be in the class with no one but you.

After the end of period sounds as all the others file out, the lecturer dumping the classroom key in your hands and reminding you to lock up, as it was his ass on the line should you forget and something gets damaged or stolen.

That was weeks ago and here you are again just you and him, but this time there are no questions peppered into his workings or kind smile that may endear you just a tad too much, it was just you stood by your desk having moved a chair so that he could sit by you as you helped him only to flounder and sputter slightly as he pushes you back, his hands so loose yet confident as the sit just shy of your elbows keeping you pinned to the wall behind the headdesk.

"You looked so good today, you said that you loved this colour cause it looked good on you but that was an understatement. You look heavenly, like a blessing in mortal form, you- you're just so perfect, please, tell me this is okay and let me-just please, please..."

Even if your nod was slightly muted the noise that you make isn't, one of his legs slipping between your own, lips finding purchase on your neck, laying kiss after kiss along the skin between the small pink marks that he leaves scattered as he works his way up to your mouth, drinking in the whine that comes from his hands on your hips making you rock into his thigh.

But soon the hands on your hips are moving down grabbing your thighs and lifting you, a surprising amount of strength in the motion but between how you pressed into the wall and the way your legs are wrapped around his hip any of your weight is anywhere but where he is so eagerly rutting his hips into yours, his kiss silencing any noises you may have made.

Only one hand stays on your hips as the other begins to roam, sliding up your shirt and mapping out the form of your chest, pulling away from the kiss as his fingers come to brush your chest, long fingers quick to begin rolling and pinching your nipples, keeping the gasps and whines on repeat in his head should he never get to hear them again.

[shadowsinger11]

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clichés of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation. 

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step. 

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true.  Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident. 

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second. 

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high. 

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was. 

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about. 

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds. 

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you. 

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy. 

Jungkook was anything but ordinary. 

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught. 

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods. 

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted. 

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not. 

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped. 

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you. 

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal. 

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school. 

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did. 

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things. 

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him. 

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse. 

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief. 

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -” 

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return. 

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you. 

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing. 

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you. 

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face. 

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It  turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes. 

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan. 

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor. 

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step. 

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did. 

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit. 

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction. 

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize. 

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go. 

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter? 

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand. 

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting. 

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw. 

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform)  with every step he took. 

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain. 

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair. 

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction. 

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room. 

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook. 

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook. 

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class. 

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack. 

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack. 

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile. 

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be. 

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag. 

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind. 

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much? 

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell. 

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it. 

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them. 

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?” 

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own. 

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead. 

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face. 

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”  

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times. 

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move. 

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes. 

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection. 

At least the seat was warm. 

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow. 

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again. 

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction. 

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks. 

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’” 

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile? 

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction. 

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled. 

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair. 

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long. 

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked. 

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept. 

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass. 

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape. 

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder. 

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option. 

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus. 

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest. 

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world. 

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you. 

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune. 

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray. 

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud. 

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later. 

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face. 

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder. 

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips. 

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant. 

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely. 

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline. 

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention. 

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape. 

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him. 

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready. 

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons. 

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod. 

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence. 

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you. 

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave. 

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process. 

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed. 

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment. 

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead. 

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.” 

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him. 

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could. 

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence. 

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day. 

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft. 

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech. 

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a  mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame. 

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil. 

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did. 

Your solution? It was ingenious, really. 

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped. 

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find. 

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him. 

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you. 

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help. 

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath. 

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened. 

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you. 

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet. 

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you. 

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly. 

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it. 

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy. 

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks. 

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said. 

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar. 

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable. 

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl. 

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud. 

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself. 

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit. 

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing. 

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter. 

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud. 

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body. 

You wanted to murder him. 

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you. 

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two. 

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing . 

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess. 

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student. 

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little. 

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute. 

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face. 

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek. 

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind. 

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different. 

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face. 

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips. 

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” 

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head. 

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it. 

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless. 

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back. 

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out. 

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless. 

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests. 

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you. 

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other. 

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory. 

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.” 

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips. 

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder. 

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked. 

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real. 

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years. 

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it. 

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition. 

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!” 

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side. 

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.” 

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.” 

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek. 

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll. 

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.” 

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him. 

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box. 

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude. 

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time. 

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips. 

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked. 

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one. 

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along. 

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

[withoneheadlight]

| billy & will + pre-harringrove | full fic in spanish |

~

There’s an in-between. The high school and the middle school. A bare piece of land, yellowed from the lack of grass and the rough kiss of the sun and, right in the middle, an old shack.

It's a shabby thing that accumulates lack of re-paintings and excess of humidity but that’s out of sight, in that way of things that are just there but no one wastes time looking at anymore are.

That's where they meet.

Billy lights up a smoke. Slides his ass up an ancient, long retired desk, pasture now of the damp and rot, and leans against the peeling wood. Front and back-row seat to the long column of trees the wind’s rippling along on the other side of the wire fence. The ember warms up his lips as he inhales a deep puff and exhales a,

“You’re getting soft, Billy Hargrove”

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, ears on that ceaseless chirping of the bids that sews together the slow-passing hours of the days and nights of Indiana, and on the delighted screams from the middle-schoolers, remembering that, somewhere in there, there's a bunch of kids who will still be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. That maybe even Max could be one of them, if Billy hurries. That maybe he will too, if Billy is able to control that instinctive reaction that pulls his skin inward and screams at him to stopstopstop, that the soft skin shreds, falls apart so easily.

But maybe it can be both of them, if Billy manages to clench his teeth hard enough and keep on softening.

‘Cause soft skin hurts when it breaks but,

"Hey!"

Sometimes it’s worth it.

Will’s smiling wide. Stops running, abruptly, and then just stands in there, panting. He’s got a funny nose and giant eyes. The kind of bangs that make you wanna blow them out of his eyes even though what they're is too short, actually, and Billy’s always thought he'd do better in life if he didn't. Notice things. If he didn't see that widewidewidewide smile and could read it so easily.

"I've been dying to show you this!" Will kneels down into the grass, chopping out the words in between exhalations. Pulls at the zipper of his backpack, chest heaving, and he doesn't realize he's going to get dirt on the knees of his jeans or that Billy can read it. His relief. Of finding him in here and not just an empty desk. Of how for a kid every single day more means 'You care’.

(About me)

It was early December. Friday right after last period and one of those silly things that only happen in movies. Something so like scripted and choreographed that Billy nearly considered looking up at the ceiling to make sure John Hughes wasn't silently watching them, taking notes from above. They crashed in the middle of a corner. Billy sped up ‘cause he was in a hurry and the only way to catch Max in time lately was to intercept her right out of class. Will ‘cause he's always going like that, Billy knows now. Always a thousand miles per hour. Always verging on time-jump speed to then being the kind of kid who seems so quiet it's scary. They crashed. Hard. In the middle of that corner. Papers flying all over and a curse (Will) and a muffled groan (Billy) and they ended up pulling at the same paper one from each corner. A drawing. Trolls and wizards and a castle and an emerald-green light. A star in the distance, auguring bad omens. Billy forgot to be frightening and Will must have forgotten he was supposed to be frightened when he blurted out a,

"Fuck, Byers. This is frikin’ fantastic."

No fear or reticence or that way he sometimes has of bumping into words and stumbling, just a "Really?" eyes huge and bangs brushing against his eyelashes as he blinked when Billy also forgot he was also supposed to― well, supposed to be Billy Hargrove.

"’Got more?"

So now he skips English instead of Algebra, every Tuesday and Thursday. Sneaks off to that in-between place he knows no one wastes time looking at anymore to light up a smoke, same time as Will has his recess. And the kid doesn't always manage to shrug off of his flock of nerds but he’s lucky, some days.

And he brings the drawings.

Orcs and goblins and enchanted mountains on the northwest and it seems to Billy that there are more princes than princesses and that if there are any, they’re almost always sorceresses, almost always queens and that your attention gets hooked on their burning eyes, not in the clothes they’re missing and Billy feels like it's a small grain of sand, this thing they’re doing. Knows that someone’s already keeping a solid ground under Will's feet ('Joyce' he says it’s her name. And it stings, the way he manages to fit so much love, into such a tiny word). But it also seems to him that maybe it doesn't take much more, for Will, just a few grains of sand, to replace those that being a strange kid in a small town sick with apprehension for what it finds strange, takes every day away from him.

So Billy’s gotta have to clench his teeth ‘till his gums start bleeding ‘cause is that, or let his skin toughen up again. Is that. Or fucking everything up.

And ave María, Billy doesn’t want to fuck it all up again.

So he sucks on his cigarette. Hooks up an eyebrow. Waves his hand to hurry the kid up.

“Mmm. That’s how good you think it is, dickwad? ‘C’mon, got my next class in twenty”

Will flies over the papers. Head nodding and fingers skimming fast. Finds what he’s looking for and yanks it out, raises it up triumphantly in his hand. It’s the sword in the stone and he carries it up to Billy with wet knees and just a little mud-staining. It’s February and the sun’s burning brightly over all the wetness the night’s spent crying. The drawing is a huge dragon, wings made of leather and cartilage, spread out in eclipse in front of the moon, only a few silver rays illuminating the dark knight in front of it. Blue eyes lined in black, blond curls cascading down his back and Billy was clenching his teeth but they part now, ‘cause the figure looks too much like him to be a coincidence. A smile devours his whole mouth. Soft. A joke itching on the tip of his tongue. He grunts a,

“I’ve been called many things. But never this, Byers”

Only half his expression’s visible, eyebrows covered with those thick bangs, and Billy has to once again fight the impulse to blow them out.

“¿Hum?”

“Knight” he says, drawling the teasing tone out “In shining armor”

And It’s such a loss, all that hair. Because it’d pass unseen, if you don’t know him. The way his eyebrows spike up underneath and it burrows in between them, the eagerness of teasing back. But Billy’s lucky, ‘cause it’s been more than two months like this and Billy―

Knows him. Well enough at least. So it doesn't pass unseen to him.

“You know the drill, William. Spit it out. Can see you’re holding it up from miles”

Will purses his lips out tight. Looks like he’s trying but. Nah.

“Wouldn’t be that shiny '' scrunches his nose. Throws a meaningful glance at Billy’s disheveled looks. More thoughtful than not, way more intentional. But that's something he'll figure out when he grows up.

Billy cackles. Will's smile widens, satisfied. Hops onto the desk next to his. Billy offers him the cigarette.

“And―this?” Will shrugs inwardly. Glances up at him. Then down, at the exchange between their hands. Takes the cig in between two fingers and it doesn’t burn but he barely presses them against the filter, anyway, as if he’s afraid it would, all of a sudden.

"Retaliation," Billy half grunts, half laughs, and Will huffs, but swallows a deep breath to gather strength. Exhales. Takes a tiny puff and―

"Argg," coughscoughscoughs "This is. Ugh. It's awful. I don't know how you―” almost throws the cigarette back to him "Ufff, what a―" he hesitates "Yuck"

Billy snorts. Thinks about Max inhaling deep, no more than two weeks ago, eyes pining his in place. Breaking into a violent cough only a second later.

Billy pats Will’s back too.

“That’s good” he says “You better not like it” Will scrunches his whole face “And this too” Billy adds, shaking the drawing a little “This is good, too. Amazingly good, man”

Will. Stares. At him. One. Two. Three long seconds. And Billy hurts a little. With every single one. Three sharp stabs with that newly freed sword. A different kind of ' you care' each one: 'it seems so impossible to me (that you care)'. 'If you think so, maybe it's true (and I do care, that you think it)’. 'Thank you (for caring)'. And then. Those hidden eyebrows. Will’s cheeks puffing out a little when he bites the tip of his tongue and―

"Billy?" his eyes glint, heavy with ill-contained malice.

"Uh?"

"You're the dragon"

"You fucking ass―!"

Billy shoves him sideways. But Will just sways. He doesn't lose footing on that firm ground he’s standing on. Looks back at the drawing, hunches a shoulder up.

"But you’re the knight, too"

He says it in a tone that cuts straight through Billy’s chest Thank you he thinks, even though his soft skin is hurting. And he still doesn't blow hard on that bowl fringe from where it covers Will’s whole forehead but―

Stirs up all his hair instead.

“Eh!!”

“Hey, shitbird. Wanna see the one I’ve made?”

Will nods quickly. All contained-speed and reverberating and sometimes Billy doesn't know how so few people can see it, how big he is for his own skin and he thinks I wish, wish he'd accumulate enough grains of sand to raise up that firm ground under his feet, and get really, really high.

“Sure!”

He keeps it tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket. Folded in upon itself. Same way he keeps everything else. Folds and layers and at the bottom of pockets no one ever looks at but.

He unfolds it to show it to Will Byers.

“Wow” Will says, and smiles up at Billy like Two months since we crashed against each other and I feel like I know you a little too, Billy Hargrove and Billy hit rock bottom but now at least Max and him sing AC/DC in chorus on the rides back home and Will's voice sounds like 'You're good' as he runs his fingertips over the graphite outlines of the skull and repeats, "Wow"

“Gonna have it done” Billy inhales a deep drag of Marlboro and 'Four Months to Eighteen' and for a moment it’s like he could feel the smoke curl up inside his lungs before blowing it out. The image is as pretty as it’s stupid. He glances at the open jaw of the drawing and thinks maybe he'd like a drag too "Have it healed for summer and―"

“What’s happening here?”

Steve.

Harrington.

Hand on his hips, preppy pastel polo lapels up, Ray-Bans holding up that way his hair swirls without really taming it. The twelve o'clock sun is shining sideways from his back and he's pretty. Painfully pretty. And Billy’s sure it's impossible that this redneck raised on corn and money amassed in dubious moral business is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen but sometimes he forgets. That it is impossible because. Fuck. It so seems like it. Light flicking on the ends of his hair where it curls. Under his ear. In the long curve of his neck. And the world doesn't halt and the birds don't stop chirping and the clouds don't part and no preternatural shit happens because this is the black hole where all the world's shit goes, Indiana. But. It so seems like it and,

Billy.

Knew how to breathe but that’s another thing he keeps on forgetting. Every time Steve Harrington passes him by.

He’s gotta force himself. To nod. To stop choking. When Will looks up at him with those big eyes. Questioning.

Apologizing.

Billy Hargrove, from freshly crowned local terror to―

“I was―” Will starts. Inhales. Presses his lips together right before blurting out the truth ‘cause he knows it's the only real way out "Showing Billy my drawings. Sometimes we―"

―the softie whose pride goes high up in his throat every time an eleven-year-old kid says 'Billy, this is good. It's very. Very good, Billy’.

"Sometimes we. Uhm. We―"

Will's already huge eyes get bigger, rounder. As if he’s just realizing that where he's stuck his foot keeps getting muddier, trapping himself all the way in. And Billy smiles lightly at him, sideways, so it’s hidden. From Steve Harrington. From all the world beyond. ‘Cause of that thing about facades and how hard they’re to maintain, when on one side is pressing what you're supposed to be and on the other, relentlessly, what you're hiding.

But Steve’s asking,

“Sometimes―what?” and Will’s eyes are fixed on Billy, two wide-open I’m sorrys and Billy thinks Fuck it, Hargrove. C’mon. Stop hiding.

So he’s the one who says,

“We share our drawings, Harrington”

And Steve.

He’s got those eyes.

They're like a troubled ocean in the heart of winter, those eyes. Hard, hard, hard. Imposing. But soft. So fucking soft. When something catches him off guard. Rolling stones in the breaker. And Billy wants to get swept up in them, like falling along the curve of a wave. Steve looks at him, and at the drawing in his hand, his eyes a swirl and, when he looks up, the calm. And Billy feels as those times when it seemed to him the waves wanted. To wrap around him. To catch him. Soft as the reflecting clouds. And Billy feels as those times when he’d let them. Carry him. Drag him to the shore. Safe and sound.

“Is that yours?” Steve frowns. When he does that. He looks the prettiest. And Billy's heart breaks. In tiny tiny pieces. Thinks This is what it takes, thinks Fuck, thinks, This is how things hurt when you let your skin get soft.

What you don’t have. What you want. What you could―

Fuck.

What you could love so bad you'd rip your own skin off, so they could touch your heart right with their own hands.

Billy nods. Will smiles. Steve’s frown softens and― waveswaveswaves. On an autumn morning. Waves lapping at the surface of an ocean of calm.

And now. Billy sings AC/DC with Max. His heart taking on water when his voice falls off-key and she clutches at her lungs, choking on laughter. Now, he sits in the back of an old shack halfway between who he is and who he should be and so, so very carefully turns at the pages of Will Byers' sketchbook.

And Billy Hargrove hit rock bottom one day in late October. Hit rock bottom and beat into pulp that pretty face he can't stop seeing in his dream. When he's asleep. When he's awake. Hit rock bottom and that's where he's going to stay. It's either that. Or risk coming up to the wrong surface. And it's easier, here at the bottom. Easier to see what matters, when you look up.

Here, Billy takes a breath. Deep. Deeper. Holds onto that air so he has something keeping him alive underwater when Steve snatches the drawing off his hands. Studies it carefully. Says,

"It's―Uhm. Well―" Grins "It's not. Beautiful. Like, conventionally." He eyes cut back to Billy and something in them breaks into whitewater, into that softness he can't help, as if everything else is as much of a lie as 'Billy Hargrove' and all those imaginary walls "But―"

He says ‘But’ and then. The bell goes off.

"Oh!" Will bounces on the spot "I have to―" he yanks the backpack shut "Class!"

He takes off. Running. Turning around right before the corner of the shack to wave at them, flashing one of those smiles Billy has involuntarily categorized as 'the good ones', wide and already almost panting again, before disappearing at the speed of light towards school and to, Billy hopes, be one of those few kids who are still going to be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. If they’re lucky.

(If Billy’s lucky)

Steve Harrington is still there, planted in front of him when the alarm stops.

"Can I bump one of those?" he asks, chin pointing to the smoke Billy's squeezing between his fingers. In the drift of his hair the Ray-Bans stay afloat, capsizing.

Billy bangs the base of the pack against his thigh, pops out a cigarette. Offers it to him. Scrapes his thumb along the wheel when Steve takes it to his lips, leaning forward and― It's broad daylight but in the thin glow of the flame it almost feels like it’s that exact instant when the world begins to fade, darkness turning wide-open spaces into narrow little universes: Steve Harrington and his red lips around the smoke and a small ache in the pad of Billy's thumb from keeping alive the fire and from wanting things with a bigger kind of ache, his heart cauterizing from holding inside the rage of knowing he's never, ever going to have them but―

"But?" Billy asks.

Steve grabs his wrist. Hollows out his cheeks. Inhales deep. Takes him a moment when he pulls away. To let go. Long enough that his fingers could read the way Billy's pulse is raging in his wrist, if he wanted to.

“But” And he’s smiling. Lopsided. He slips into Will's seat and stretches his neck toward the sky. Prolongs the wait. Exhales. "It's cute."

And then his gaze cuts down and he’s searching for him, with those eyes of his. For Billy, who can never stop looking at him so, when he finds him, finds him looking back already.

And Billy―

Billy.

"Cute?"

Billy. Blinks. His hand stops halfway from getting his own cigarette to his mouth. Stops his heart and it feels like time’s stopping too, in this narrowness Steve's presence has reduced the moment into. And he’s smiling big now. His eyes soft. Soft. So fucking soft. And Billy thinks,

You're getting soft too, Billy Hargrove. You want to let him shred off your skin, when Steve says,

"You," snorting a soft laugh, sun melting in his eyes like honey "With Will. Drawing."

Billy wants him to never stop looking at him like that. Wants to lean in, and kiss him.

"Shut up and smoke your fucking cigarette, Harrington" he growls.

And Steve rolls his eyes in a way that screams 'Gotcha, Hargrove', but leans his back against the peeling wood of the shack.

And does as he’s told.

(Next Tuesday, it's not just Will who shows up, when the bell starts ringing)

.

.

i just finished translating this and, since i had originally written this part as and stand-alone thing. here it is. idk if it's worth the work of translating it whole, or if i really feel like it but, we'll see!. i've been at war with life and writing this past few weeks but i've been missing you so much, fandom <3<3<3. hope you've been doing well.

also billy + will + drawing is one of my fav hcs and there are a few tiny things more that i wanna write? hopefully i will 🌟

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day Six

“Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?'

'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him.”

― George R.R. Martin

The walk home had become much more fun since they had met Aubrey. Before they met her it was just him and Kel. That wasn’t to say Sunny hadn’t had fun on those walks. Kel was his best friend, and he never pressed Sunny out of his comfort zones. He did pretty much all of the talking between the two of them and only stopped periodically to check in with Sunny or get an encouraging nod. Sunny loved to listen to Kel’s ranting and wild made up stories, and he usually ended up drawing them once they got back home. But now that Aubrey was there too, it wasn’t just a walk. It was a performance.

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

They continued back and forth, practically tripping over each other in their haste to respond. They had seemingly forgotten anything was around them but their ranting, facing one another as they walked and expertly avoiding obstacles with the practiced ease of those who were used to doing two things at once.

Aubrey had only joined their friend group a week or two ago, but she fit so seamlessly in with them it was hard to remember she hadn’t always been there. Kel had found a sparring partner in her, Mari finally had a little sister to spoil and do girly things with, and Hero could have made friends with a brick.

As for Sunny? Well he wasn’t too sure exactly what he thought of the girl, but he enjoyed having her around. He had never been a fan of loud noises or anger, but somehow with Aubrey it was different. She never stayed angry for long, and even when she was mad, she had never been scary.

“Did too times a million!” Aubrey declared, and Kel gave a disgusted growl, throwing his hands up in the air. She smiled smugly and stuck her tongue out at him, which only started their argument anew as Kel’s fire was rekindled by her slight.

Sunny smiled to himself as their back and forth sped up even more, and he continued to walk innocently at their side. As long as he didn’t call any attention to himself, they wouldn’t remember to drag him into it and try to get him to pick a side. Sunny couldn’t exactly remember what started their argument, or why they were still going at it after being at each other's throats since they had all gotten on the bus, but their shouting was funny.

An unexpected bark broke through his happy haze, and Sunny froze. His good mood evaporated and in its place was cold fear, dripping down his back and gluing his feet to the sidewalk. Hector bounded closer, tongue waving in the wind as he ran towards them. Kel cut off his argument with Aubrey and called for his brother. He intercepted the dog as it got to him, holding his collar fast and keeping him back from Sunny.

Aubrey gasped and clasped her hands together, squealing at the arrival of the furry terror. She skipped over, elated by the new arrival.

“Oh my gosh, who is this?” She asked, holding out her hand towards him. Hector was distracted from his mission to squirm out of Kel’s grasp and sniffed her hand with a laser focus. Once he had determined she was friend and not foe, Hector refocused his efforts to escape.

“This is Hector. He’s my dog,” Kel said, his words punctuated by pauses as Hector jerked them back and forth trying to get his freedom. Hector was only a dog, but Kel was also only a nine year old boy, and trying to hold onto an energetic ball of fur was quite the exercise.

Sunny tried to remember the steps Mari had given him for when he felt like this. Calm down.. Focus. No, he had to focus first, right? He couldn’t remember, and if he couldn’t remember the order, then it wouldn’t work. Sunny shut his eyes tight, letting black starbursts try to distract him from the pain in his chest. It didn’t work, then he was just scared he wouldn’t see if the dog came near him. He opened his eyes again. Kel was watching him with a worried look, and shame colored Sunny’s cheeks. It was bad enough to have such an overreaction to something completely normal, but Kel’s eyes on him somehow made it even worse.

“So cute!” Aubrey shrieked, not noticing what was going on between the boys. She squatted down and let Hector lick at her face, giggling in joy and scratching behind the dog’s ears. She took his face in her hands, speaking to him in a sweet baby voice, “You’re just a little lovebug, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Kel said, trailing off. He was clearly distracted by trying to manage everything around him, “Where is Hero?”

Said boy was hurrying up the street, an electric blue leash in his grasp. He was panting from exertion, the same way he always did when what they were doing required any exercise, and Sunny vaguely wondered if Hero had his inhaler with him. It was just running up the street, it shouldn’t trigger an asthma attack, but Sunny also knew that stress sometimes made them worse and could make just breathlessness pull into a full attack. On top of the fear and on top of the shame, now he also had to deal with guilt wrapping around his shoulders for causing Hero to have to run out and help him.

“I’m so sorry guys, Mari and I left the door open to get a breeze and I wasn’t paying attention to where he was,” Hero explained as he clipped the leash to Hector’s collar and pulled him into a heel. Hector walked in circles around Hero and tugged to try and get closer to the group of kids. The second Hero had him, Kel was back by Sunny’s side, blocking him and Hector with his body and quietly checking over his best friend. From around Kel Sunny spotted Mari walking over at a much slower pace, and the steel in his spine began to melt. Mari meant safety.

“Why are you sorry?” Aubrey asked, cocking her head to one side and looking around. She finally saw Sunny hiding behind Kel and she seemed even more confused.

Mari arrived with a gentle smile, walking around Kel and hugging Sunny close without words. He wrapped his arms around her automatically, breathing out a sigh and letting the tension fall out of his shoulders and onto the ground. He had felt better when Hero had intervened, but Mari was the one that made him feel safe again. If she was here, nothing bad would happen.

“Calm down. Focus,” She whispered, and the order clicked into place in Sunny’s mind. Once he knew that, he took an experimental breath. It was easier. He could do it.

“Sunny’s afraid of dogs,” Kel explained as the sibling had their moment, “We always keep Hector in our parents room when he’s around,”

“I completely lost track of time,” Hero said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Now that Sunny was taken care of, Kel knelt down by Hector and shushed the still whining dog, scratching underneath his chin the way he liked. Hector’s leg began to shake erratically and he held his head high to give Kel better access.

“It was an accident,” Mari replied, keeping Sunny close to her. When she worried she liked to have him right beside her, and he never minded. Beside her was the best place for him.

Aubrey hummed to herself, clearly taking in all of the information. She pulled her mouth into a thoughtful frown surveying the scene around her. The young girl walked away from where the brothers were and over to Sunny and Mari. She stood in front of him with her hands behind her back rocking back and forth on her heels.

“He’s a nice dog,” Aubrey stated, shooting Sunny an encouraging smile. She kept her voice sweet and light, the way she always talked to him. He bit the inside of his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with the girl. The shame sitting in his belly got worse.

He knew that Hector was a nice dog. Hector was the only dog that Sunny could even get relatively close to, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a dog. He was loud, and he jumped, and he licked, and the energy was just...too much. Sunny didn’t even have a good reason for being afraid of dogs, he just was. He had always been, and he always would be. It was frustrating. It was humiliating.

“It’s okay, Sunny,” Mari soothed, as if she knew what route Sunny’s mind was bringing him down. She patted his shoulder and turned to Aubrey, “It’s just something that he’s uncomfortable with, it’s not something that has to change.”

Aubrey loved Mari. She liked all of them, but Sunny knew that it was more with Mari. Aubrey looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars, and her word was law. They had only known Aubrey for a short time, but he already knew that she would never disagree with his sister.

That’s what made her next words so shocking.

“My mom says that fears should always be confronted. You can never bring light into the dark unless you open the door.” Aubrey stated, the words clearly rehearsed from hearing them over and over. She ended by holding out her hand towards Sunny, her smile never wavering.

“Aubrey...” Mari started with a sigh, her voice kind but delicately firm. Sunny knew what would come next from that tone.

Mari would gently put Aubrey down from the idea and bring Sunny back to the shelter of their house before anything else could happen. She would wrap him in blankets and hot chocolate and love and he would never have to confront what scared him so badly. It was the option he knew, the one that he should take. It made sense and it was safe, responsible even. It would be foolish to break out of what he knew and go beyond into the unknown.

But Aubrey was still holding her hand out. She still believed in him.

Sunny took her hand before Mari could finish her thought, letting himself be pulled out of his sister’s arms. Aubrey hummed a happy tune as she walked them away from Mari and back towards the boys. They were staring at Aubrey in silenced shock, Kel managing to keep a tight grip on Hector’s collar in spite of being clearly lost for words.

Aubrey, unphased and unafraid, changed her grip on Sunny’s hand and turned it so the back of his hand was facing Hector.

“So what you do is let him smell you. That way he knows you’re a friend, and you know that he’s okay with you being close to him.” Kel and Hero had taught this to him over a dozen times, but trying now wasn’t quite so stressful.

It had to be the way Aubrey held no fear or concern. Every time he had tried this before, his sister and friends had reassured him they were holding Hector tightly and that should anything go wrong, they would be here. The possibility of going wrong was what scared Sunny so badly, but that possibility wasn’t present now.

Hot puffs of air hit the back of Sunny’s hand as Hector eagerly sniffed the offered appendage. Kel still had his arms looped around Hector’s neck and Hero was holding the leash, and nothing had gone wrong yet. A pink tongue darted out and licked at his fingers, and Sunny pulled away. It wasn’t the normal jerky motion that was usually accompanied by a sudden breathless panic, he just didn’t like that feeling. Aubrey giggled and reached her own hand out to pat Hector on the top of his head.

“If you pet him, he won’t be able to lick at you,” She commented, and Kel took the silent direction to turn Hector close to him so Sunny could reach his body, “He’s really soft!”

She was right, Hector was soft. His fur was thick and glossy, clearly cared for and brushed thoroughly to keep it this nice. Sunny had seen Kel brushing Hector in the backyard plenty of times before, but now he could see the appeal of putting in all that work. Experimentally he scratched his fingernails against the dog’s body and he was rewarded by Hector giving a full body shake, turning so Sunny could get to his other side.

This was nice, unexpected, but nice. Mari was coming over now, putting a hand on Aubrey’s shoulder and beaming. Sunny turned around to look at the two of them and awarded the girl’s with one of his rare smiles, both of them lighting up at the unexpected happiness on Sunny’s face. Aubrey let go of his hand and turned all of her attention onto Hector, distracting the pooch with her baby talk.

“Are you fwiends now wiv Sunny? Yes you are, yes you are you sweet little baby,”

Sunny pulled his hand back, but he didn’t retreat. He was focused on watching Aubrey. Strong, confidant, idealistic Aubrey. Sunny finally figured out what he thought of her.

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 5/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  even though you were determined to leave the palace as soon as you could, you now find yourself waking up in a luxurious room of the palace months later  Warnings: angst Word count:  4.7K..... yea A/N: for the sake of this series, nikolai never gave alina the lantsov emerald lol also this turned out longer than I planned it to be but do I regret it? maybe a bit not in the slightest, enjoy reading! :) (also I know I posted part 4 like yesterday but I want this one out there cause a lot happens & I want to post part 6 & 7 so bad) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 add yourself to my tag lists here 

For someone who had dreaded going to Os Alta, you find yourself starting to actually like it. After pulling you aside, out of earshot of your father, Nikolai explained to you why he told your father he’d picked you as his bride.

When he told you it was to ensure he couldn’t control your life any longer, you got confused, asking him why he would do such thing. In response, he recalled the conversation you had at the gardens, when you told him your father had been controlling your entire life, and how people had made decisions for him his entire life as well. 

Nikolai merely said he thought you deserved to make your own choices for once. Even if it meant living at the palace, far away from Ketterdam.

You had agreed to stay at the palace. You knew you couldn’t go back to Ketterdam now. The news of Nikolai picking you as his bride would probably travel faster than you’d like to.

While you did like Nikolai, and you enjoyed the little time you had spent with him, you made it clear you still didn’t want to marry him. That a part of still longed for Ketterdam. 

Nikolai listened to you explaining your choices, and respected them. While both of you knew all eyes would be on you after announcing the engagement, you also knew you couldn’t push it back any further. Not after all the rumours. 

He did agree to wait with picking an actual wedding date, giving you enough time to get used to your new life. You had told him you had no intention of marrying him, but over time you found yourself thinking more and more about it.

You’re amazed by the palace, and the life you live now. Every day, you walk around the palace, finding new routes and rooms. You start to think you might never see all of it in one lifetime. And you visit the gardens as well. 

You keep the yellow flower Nikolai had given you next to the mirror in your room. But you’d never tell him that, he’d tease you endlessly about it. 

As more weeks pass by, you spend more time with Nikolai, as well as his triumvirate. He’d invited you to few of their meetings, telling you if you ever did get married, you’d have to attend them as well. And the sooner you got used to it, the better.

At first, it felt a little weird. You walk around with Nikolai and everyone knows you as his future bride. While it feels odd, Nikolai’s presence is a comforting one. And the more you get to know him, the more you actually start to like him. Maybe staying at the palace wouldn’t be so bad as you thought it would be.

He spends a lot of time getting to know you. You have long conversations about your life in Ketterdam and his time in the army. About both of your dreams for the future, and what you want to achieve. But you also talk about small and simple things such as your favourite dish, or a book you love. 

Most of the talks take place in the gardens or your room. You like getting to know the Nikolai beneath the mantle of king. You start to realise the two of you aren’t so different. If you had been born in a different city, you might have been childhood friends. 

On a particularly sunny spring morning, the two of you walk around the gardens again. Nikolai doesn’t even have to offer his arm to you, you already place your hand on it. After some time, you’ve slipped into an easy morning routine, which sometimes includes a walk through the gardens.

‘How long until the Summers Week blooms again?’ you ask him as you walk past the familiar bush.

Nikolai glances at the same bush. ‘Probably a couple of months.’ he says. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I think they’re beautiful.’ you as the two of you sit down on the same bench you sat on so many months ago, when you had escaped the ball. ‘It really is a shame they only bloom for such a short period of time.’ 

‘Do you still have that one flower I gave you when we met?’ asks Nikolai.

You glare at him. You just know he’d never let you forget it if he knew you kept it. ‘Yes.’ you say. ‘I wouldn’t throw it away.’

And indeed, a smug look appears on Nikolai’s face. ‘I’m delighted you didn’t throw it away.’ he says. 

You playfully roll your eyes. ‘I expect a new one when they bloom again.’ you say.

‘I’ll make sure to give you one, sweetheart.’ he says with a smile. 

You feel your cheeks heat up at the mention of the nickname. He’d called you nicknames on more than one occasion. You still weren’t used to it. Maybe it had to do something with the fact that Nikolai seems to always look good.

You look at the bush again, getting lost in your thoughts. Nikolai seems to notice. After a while of silence, he speaks up.

‘What’s on your mind?’ he asks you.

You wonder when get got so good at reading your face. ‘I’ve been thinking about, well, all of this.’ you say, gesturing to the gardens and the palace behind you. 

Nikolai turns so he can properly look at you. ‘And?’ he says.

‘I have to admit, life at the grand palace isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. And it has been nice not to have my father following me around all day long. I still miss Ketterdam, but maybe not as much as I used to.’ you say. 

You briefly look at Nikolai and notice a faint smile on his lips as he’s listening to you.

‘Plus, the company isn’t so bad.’ you say. ‘I know I made it clear I didn’t want this. But the time I've spent here has been very nice. Everyone is so kind, and I love the walks around the palace.’

‘What exactly are you saying, Y/N?’ says Nikolai, though the look on his face tells you he already knows. 

You take a deep breath. ‘I’m saying I’m willing to do this. I think I could be happy here. I’m willing to marry you. Even it it’s just for the sake of Ravka. I’d rather marry you than some old merchant back in Kerch.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles. ‘That’s good to hear.’ he says. ‘Was it my dashing smile or charming personality that made you decide to stay?’

‘Don’t get cocky now, Nikolai.’ you chuckle.

‘Sweetheart, have you actually met me? I’ll always be cocky.’ he says. 

You laugh and Nikolai reaches out to take one of your hands in his.

‘But on a more serious note, I really am glad you decided to stay. I didn’t lie when I said you’re nice company.’ he says. ‘And now I can finally give you this.’

He gets something out of his pocket and holds it in his closed fist.

‘Close your eyes.’ he says.

You slightly raise your eyebrows. ‘Really?’ you say. 

‘Really.’ says Nikolai, smirking at you.

You do as he says and close your eyes. You feel how Nikolai lifts your hand and slides something on your finger. You feel the weight of it on your finger and can tell what it is before Nikolai tells you to open your eyes.

A ring with a beautiful green emerald sits on your finger. Your lips part in surprise. He doesn’t even have to say it, you know this ring.

‘This is the Lantsov emerald.’ you say as you look at him.

‘It’s really just an emerald like any others.’ says Nikolai, looking at your hand which is still in his. ‘But that is what most people call it, yes.’

You admire the ring on your finger. ‘It’s beautiful.’ you say. When you look up, you see Nikolai looking at you with an odd expression on his face.

‘What is it?’ you say.

He simply smiles at you and shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’ he says. He gets up and offers you his arm again. ‘Shall we go back to the palace? It’s almost lunch time.’ 

You nod and get up as well but instead of laying your hand on his arm, you grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with his instead. The two of you walk back to the palace, and you try to ignore the way people look at your left hand, clearly eyeing the emerald ring. 

This would be yet another rumour that would spread impossibly fast. You had to write another letter to the Crow Club soon. You’d rather have your friends find out through you, than because of rumours. 

You’d been writing letters to the Crows since you decided you stay at the palace. You told them about your life at the palace, and in return they told you what was going on in Ketterdam. 

You loved receiving letters from them. They each took turns writing you, and all of them signed the letter. 

Once you had lunch, Nikolai got called away to another meeting, and you went to your room to write a letter to Ketterdam. As usual, you started off by asking them how they were doing, if any jobs went wrong, and a new prediction on how many card games Jesper had lost. 

You then wrote about finally accepting the fact you’d marry Nikolai. Despite the chances being low they could attend, you invited them to the wedding anyway. You told them you’d send them a formal invitation with the date as soon as you picked a date. 

And then the chaos started. Genya insisted on being in charge of the planning, and she also sketched you a few designs for your wedding dress. They were all equally stunning, and you couldn’t pick one. Eventually, Nikolai picked the one he thought would suit you best.

Zoya was in charge of putting together the guest list. When she asked you who you wanted to invite, you gave her the names of the Crows. She seemed a bit taken aback you’d invite them because after all, they were criminals. You hadn’t yet told her you’d been part of the Crows for many years as well.

When you looked at the list she was writing, you noticed your father’s name on it as well. He’d sent you many letters, which you ignored. You took the pen from Zoya’s hand and crossed his name off the list without a word. 

Time seemed to fly by at an alarmingly speed. Before you know it, you wake up on the morning of your wedding. Until this day, it seemed like a strange concept somehow. As if you couldn’t fully realise it. 

But when your eyes land on your wedding dress, you feel like for the first time, the realisation of what’s about to happen finally sinks in. You would marry Nikolai. You would take his name and you would become a queen. Of a country that’s not even your own.

A knock on your door catches you off guard and you call for them to come in. Genya enters, followed by a few servants. She’s beaming at you, clearly excited about today.

‘Are you ready?’ she says.

‘More like the most nervous I’ve ever been.’ you say.

Genya smiles at you as she sits down on the bed next to you. ‘I understand you’re nervous.’ she says. ‘But I promise you it’ll be alright. We’ll all be here right beside you. And it’s just one day.’

‘One day of ceremonies and traditions and then I’m a queen.’ you say, having an uneasy feeling in your stomach. 

‘Nikolai will be there by your side. And we will be there as well.’ says Genya. ‘Now let’s get you in that dress.’

She rises to her feet and motions for you to get up as well. You hesitate. 

‘Could you, um, go and get Nikolai?’ you ask her, avoiding her eyes. ‘I want to talk to him.’

‘Of course.’ she says and she immediately leaves the room. You get up and start to pace the room, ignoring the servants who are patiently waiting for you. It doesn’t take long for Genya to return with Nikolai. 

Nikolai smiles at you and asks the servants and Genya to leave the room, which they do. 

By the looks of it, Genya caught him while he was getting dressed. His hair is still messy and his shirt is hastily tucked into his pants. He walks up to you, looking at you.

‘What can I do for you?’ he says. 

‘I’m nervous.’ you say.

‘If it helps, I’m nervous too.’ he says.

‘But you always manage to hide it behind a curtain of flirty comments and confidence.’ you say. ‘I wish I could do that.’

‘Y/N, just because I always know what to say, doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous.’ says Nikolai.

He reaches out to take your hand in his and walks you back to your bed, where you sit down. 

‘Listen, it’s completely normal to be nervous. It’s a big day. A lot of important people are going to be present. But I want you to be okay with this, so do you still want to do this?’ he says.

You look at him and frown. ‘Yes, of course!’ you say. ‘We’re not going to cancel this whole thing because I’m nervous. I just hope I won’t throw up because of the nerves.’

Nikolai chuckles. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ he says. ‘If it makes you feel better, we could practice.’ 

You frown again. ‘Practice what? I know how weddings work, Nikolai.’ you say. 

‘It wasn’t the entire wedding I was talking about.’ says Nikolai. 

You look at him, waiting for him to continue. He looks at your lips instead. 

‘Oh.’ you say softly. That was what he meant. 

Nikolai slowly inches closer to you, leaning in. His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes, silently asking permission. You give the barest of nods and Nikolai closes the remaining space between you, softly pressing his lips against yours. 

You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his lips on yours. All of the nerves seem to leave your body as you easy into him. When he pulls away, your faces are still close to each other.

‘Well if that’s what you call practicing, I wonder what the real thing is going to do to top that.’ you say.

Nikolai laughs at your words. ‘You’re getting better at your comebacks with every passing day, sweetheart.’ he says.

‘I learn from the best.’ you say, smiling at him.

‘Are you ready for this?’ says Nikolai.

‘I am now.’ you say with a hint of newfound confidence. 

Nikolai nods and gets up. ‘I’ll call Genya back.’ he says.

You get up as well and walk with him to the door. Before opening it, Nikolai takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. With a wink, he opens the door and steps out into the hallway.

Once Genya and the servants enter, she immediately drags you over and pushes you into a chair to do your hair.

‘You don’t seem nervous anymore.’ she says. 

‘I’m not.’ you say. ‘Nikola and I, uh, talked about it.’ you say, unable to stop your cheeks from turning red. 

Genya smiles knowingly at you. ‘I’m sure it was a good talk then.’ she says, emphasising the word “talk”. 

‘It was.’ you say, avoiding her eyes.

The smile never leaves Genya’s face as she finishes with doing your hair. The servants help you to get in the dress, and you finally look at yourself in the mirror. Genya had really outdone herself with the dress. It looks beautiful on you, as if it was meant to be.

You turn to look at her. ‘Thank you.’ you say. ‘Truly. It’s perfect.’ 

‘Don’t thank me. Nikolai is the one who picked the dress.’ she says. ‘Are you ready to go?’

You take a deep breath and nod. Genya links her arm through yours and you start walking toward the small chapel on the palace grounds. The guests had already arrived and were gathered inside. You can hear them talking and chatting excitedly even outside the chapel.

Genya hugs you tightly and disappears inside the chapel. After a few deep breaths to calm yourself again, you firmly plant your feet on the ground. No going back now. 

The doors to the chapel open and you watch as the guests all rise. A last deep breath, and you start walking. Were there really this many people on the list Zoya had put together?

You start to feel nervous again, but then you see Nikolai looking at you. He’s smiling brightly, and looks very handsome. You remember the feeling of his lips on yours, and find your confidence once more. 

You slowly walk down the aisle, smiling as well, and your eyes are fixed on Nikolai. When you finally make it to the front of the chapel, Nikolai smiles as you stop walking. 

‘Still nervous?’ he whispers softly, so only you can hear it. 

‘Not anymore, thanks to you.’ you whisper back. 

You take a quick look at the crowd. You only recognise the people that lived at the palace as well. Thankfully, you don’t see your father in the crowd. But your heart sinks as you don’t spot your Crows either. They didn’t come. 

You had invited them. Maybe they feared being captured if they risked coming to Os Alta? Whatever their reason was, you’re sure it was a good one. You’d send them a letter after the wedding, asking them if maybe an important job had come up. But still, it hurt a little they wouldn’t attend your wedding. 

The wedding itself seems to last minutes. You’re only focused on Nikolai. He holds your hand and you’re grateful he does. It helps keep you grounded. You had expected the wedding to be grand because after all, it is a royal one. But once you leave the chapel, hand in hand with Nikolai, you realise it turned out to be even better than you expected. 

The two of you are silent as you walk through the halls of the palace. You see the door to your room in the distance, but Nikolai walks right past it. When you raise your eyebrows in question at him, he points at the door to his room in the distance.

‘They’d expect us to share a room. It’d be a bit weird if we got married but sleep in separate rooms.’ he says. ‘Don’t worry, the bed is large enough to fit both of us without having to cuddle close. Not that I would mind if you did.’

You chuckle at his words as he opens the door to his room. You’re thankful to be away from all the guests. You appreciated that they all came to attend the wedding, but you got tired of listening to their congratulations over and over again. 

Once the door closes behind you, you immediately bend down to take off your heels. You watch as Nikolai shrugs off his suit jacket and runs a hand through his hair. 

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he says. 

‘It wasn’t bad at all.’ you say. 

Nikolai studies your face. ‘But there’s something on your mind.’ he says.

‘I just...’ your voice trails off as you try to find the best way to voice your thoughts. Nikolai takes your hand and pulls you down to sit on the bed with him. 

‘I thought they would come.’ you say softly. ‘I invited them, and I know I haven’t seen them in a while, but I thought they’d at least come to my wedding. I spent years with them.’ 

‘Maybe something else got in the way? Maybe something came up and they simply couldn’t make it?’ suggest Nikolai.

You shake your head. ‘Even if Kaz would plan a job, Jesper and Nina would burn down all of Ketterdam if a job prevented them from attending my wedding.’ you say. ‘I can’t think of a single reason why they wouldn’t come. I thought I meant more to them.’ 

‘What if you write them another letter? I’m sure if you just ask them, they’ll explain why they couldn’t be there.’ says Nikolai.

‘I was going to write them about it anyway.’ you say. ‘But first I want to change. As beautiful as this dress is, it’s incredibly heavy.’

‘I had a servant move some of your belongings here already.’ says Nikolai. ‘A part of the closet is now yours.’

‘Thank you.’ you say and you walk over to the closet, opening it. You pick one of your comfortable dresses and go to the bathroom to change. When you get back, you see Nikolai hasn’t changed yet. You didn't mind. He really looked good in a formal suit. 

You move to sit behind Nikolai’s desk to write a letter to Ketterdam. You try to sound polite, but a part of you wants to just write what you’re actually thinking. But the Crows mean the world to you, and you don’t want to hurt them or piss them off. 

Once you finish the letter, you seal it and hand it to a servant, telling them it’s urgent. 

When you get back to the room, you find Nikolai sitting at his desk, fidgeting with something in his hands. Curiously, you walk over to him. 

‘What are you doing?’ you say.

Nikolai looks up and holds out his hand to you. On his palm is a small boat, made out of a piece of rope. You carefully take it from his hand to examine it.

‘How did you learn how to make this?’ you as him.

He shrugs. ‘A lot of practicing.’ he says. 

You smile and hand the little boat back to him. ‘It’s nice.’ you say. ‘Could you teach me how to make one?’

Nikolai nods and pulls out a second chair for you. He spends the rest of the evening trying to teach you how to make a boat out of a piece of rope. While his fingers move smoothly and create the boats with ease, you struggle with it. After all, he had probably done it for many years, whereas you’re only trying it out for the first time. 

When you successfully finish your first boat, you decide to call it a night and go to sleep. Nikolai hadn’t been lying; the bed was big enough to fit the both of you comfortably without invading each other’s personal space. 

Your usual routines don’t change much. Except for the fact you know share a room and a bed. And you notice there are more lingering glances between the two of you. 

Like Nikolai had said, you’re expected to attend important meetings as well. You try to listen to it, but sometimes the meetings just aren’t interesting in your eyes. Luckily you always sit next to Nikolai, who is able to nudge your leg with his boot if he thinks you’re starting to zone out.

You have breakfast together every morning, expect for the mornings when Nikolai isn’t at the palace. You practice making boats out of rope, and you’re improving. Nikolai’s still turn out better than yours, but you’re getting there.

Every day, you ask if there’s mail for you. But somehow the Crows don’t send letters as frequently as they used to. And they had never given you a proper explanation as to why they didn’t attend your wedding. 

Most of the times when you’re lost in thought, you’re thinking about Ketterdam. You hadn’t been there in months, not since the ball. It’s as if the longer you stay at the palace, the more you miss Ketterdam. 

The city had always felt like home. And no matter how much you like spending time at the palace with Nikolai, you can’t help but to feel guilty for being away from Ketterdam for so long. You miss the city, and you miss your Crows.

Nikolai must have noticed something is bothering you, but you dodge his questions. You try to come up with excuses, but eventually, he pulls you aside and stands in front of the door, preventing you from slipping away.

‘Out with it.’ he says. ‘What is going on?’

You look at him, not sure what to say. 

‘Is it our marriage? Do you regret it? Is that why you’re avoiding talking with me?’ says Nikolai.

‘Of course not!’ you quickly say. ‘Nikolai, I do not regret our marriage. I happen like you a lot.’

‘Then what is it?’ says Nikolai. ‘You’re not yourself and I can tell something is bothering you. Let me help you.’

‘I don’t know where to start.’ you say softly, lowering your head and looking at your feet. It all seemed so childish now. 

‘I miss Ketterdam.’ you say softly. You feel tears burning behind your eyes. ‘I miss the harbour, and the tourists flooding the docks. I miss playing card games with Jesper, and going out with Nina. I miss talking with Inej and going over Kaz’ plans with him. I even miss reading to Wylan and trying to win a drinking contest from Matthias. I miss the Crow Club, and their laughter. I miss all of it.’ 

You see how Nikolai’s feet step closer to you and his hands cup your face, tilting it upward so you look at him. He brushes a tear away with his thumb.

‘It’s alright to miss Ketterdam.’ he says. ‘You left everything behind, I understand it if you miss it. It’s been your home for so long.’

‘But this is my home now.’ you say, your voice trembling slightly. ‘Here in Os Alta, with you. I shouldn’t long to go back to Ketterdam as much as I do.’

Nikolai smiles at you, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. ‘I told you a long time ago I won’t let anyone else control the choices you make in life, sweetheart. If you want to go to Ketterdam, I think you should go.’ he says.

You stare up at him, letting his words sink in. ‘But I’m your wife. You’d let me go just like that?’ you say.

‘You are indeed my wife. But I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. If you think you’re happier in Ketterdam than you are at the palace, then you should go. Go and be happy.’ he says. 

‘But I'm happy with you too.’ you say. ‘I just miss my home, that’s all.’

He smiles again. ‘Then you should go home. This is not goodbye forever, you know.’ he says. 

‘Not goodbye forever.’ you say, repeating his words. 

You stand on your toes and lean up to kiss him. Nikolai pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around his waist in response. When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

‘Go.’ he says softly. ‘Go to your Ketterdam, go to your Crows. I’m sure they’d love to see you again.’

You nod and pull yourself out of his embrace. Nikolai watches you as you quickly pack a bag with some essentials. You can’t bear to look at him again as you walk past him, out of the room.

You didn’t know Nikolai followed you from a distance, to see you off. As soon as you got on a horse and left the gates, he stands at the top of the stairs that lead to the entrance of the palace. 

He watches you as you become a smaller and smaller dot on the horizon. The triumvirate, who had seen the two of you leave, joins him on the steps, wondering what Nikolai is looking at.

‘Was that Y/N? says Zoya. ‘Where is she going?’

‘Back to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai.

Zoya turns to Nikolai. ‘You let her go?’ she says. ‘Saints, Nikolai, why did you let her go?’

Nikolai doesn’t say anything and continues to look at the horizon. Genya is studying Nikolai’s face as he looks at you in the distance. Her lips part in surprise, but her eyes are sad.

‘Because he loves her.’ says Genya.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[starlightrows]

4 — The New King

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussion of losing parents, mention of disordered eating, bed sharing

Summary: Saved from an untimely death by starvation and exposure, Boba offers you a place in his palace

*This chapter contains an Easter Egg for an upcoming series that severely deviates from canon*

When you wake up your head is throbbing and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re so hungry. But the one thing you don’t feel, is cold. In fact you’re actually quite warm and comfortable at the moment. You crack your eyes open and are confused to find yourself wrapped in a worn blue blanket, laying in what looks like a large storage closet with a mattress on the floor.

You peer out the open door and see you’re on a ship. How did this happen? Who’s ship is this? Suddenly your stomach growls loudly… you smell something… something good. It doesn’t matter who’s ship this is, you have to eat whatever it is that smells that good.

You clamber out of the sleeping closet and see Boba turning off a hot plate and sealing a bag that surely must contain dehydrated food. He turns when he hears you.

You stare at him, at the food. You’re confused and starving. Having no idea what to stay you just stand there.

He offers you a hand, a gesture to approach “It’s not the most flavorful or healthy dining option” he says “but it’s hot, and will be ready in just a few minutes”

You step closer cautiously and look up at his face “How did you find me?” You ask in an unsteady voice

“I went back to the inn and saw what happened to it. And the town. Followed the road, I figured you’d take the shorter path with water even though it would be uphill and colder” he explains, handing you the sealed bag and a long handled spoon. You open the bag and dig in, not even caring what it is. “Eat slowly Princess, you’ll make yourself sick”

He’s right. You’ve seen it before. Travelers who haven’t eaten in days… weeks even… come to the inn and eat a lot of food in a short period of time… they land up retching in the woods behind the inn. So you slow down and actually taste the food as you eat it.

You make it about half way through the meal before you feel a little sick. You don’t normally eat this much food to begin with. So you set aside the bag of food and let your stomach settle. Boba is eating from a similar bag of food. You study your current meal companion and apparent savior.

“Why did you come back? Why did you come after me?” You ask

“I told you I would” he says “I came back to extend you an invitation, to come to Tatooine”

“You want me to go to Tatooine with you?” You're surprised by that. Sure he’s said it the last time you’d met, but you didn’t think he’d meant it. Men who pass through little towns like yours generally don’t keep promises to return.

“You don’t have to by any means” he says “But the offer is on the table”

“I can’t exactly refuse, can I? My home and businesses are gone…” This is coming out all wrong. This man just saves your life and you’re treating him like he planned this all out “I’m sorry… that was rude and ungrateful”

“You are not wrong” he points out “Put it another way. As you have said, you can’t go back. So I’ll offer you a choice, Princess. Come with me to Tatooine, or tell me anywhere you’d like to go and I will take you there”

“You would really do that? Just ferry me anywhere in the galaxy or take me back with you to Tatooine? That is a kindness I can’t repay”

“You already have. You saved my life that night in the storm. And I did promise you I would come back for you”

“Why?” You ask in a whisper “why would you come all the way back here? You owe me nothing… even if I did let you come in that night”

“Because you made an impression, little one. I found myself thinking about the sweet innkeeper at the edge of the universe often. Even before you saved my life. I always planned on coming back for you, I only wish I had done so sooner”

You let his words sink in. I always planned on coming back for you. You can feel your heart beating in your chest and your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’ll go with you” you say softly “back to Tatooine… Let me work in the kitchens or something to be useful in your household”

“We can talk about that later” He chuckles. “I know it isn’t flavorful, but I want you to eat and get more rest. Replenish your strength”

Your stomach is full, given that you usually don’t eat heavily on a regular basis. But he’s right, you know you need to eat more. Not just right now to recover from hypothermic exposure, but in general. That’s always been a struggle for you. But you do try. The food is right there, and he has been kind enough to offer it you freely.

Boba returns to the cockpit to manually fly his ship, you force yourself to eat at least a few more bites of the rehydrated food he prepared for you. You take the blanket from the cot where you woke up with you, and climb up into the cockpit to sit with him.

He doesn’t turn when you slide into the seat next to him but he does when he notices you wrapping the blanket over your shoulders.

“Apologies Princess” he says “This ship was not built for comfort”

“It’s alright. Just a little cold” you run the edge of the blanket between your finger tips

“You won’t be cold when we reach Tatooine” he chuckles

“No, I suppose not. I’ve heard Tatooine’s binary suns make it so that nothing grows” you can’t imagine it. A world where nothing grows. You grew up in the greenery of a forested planet, at the base of a mountain with rich soil for growing vegetables.

“Tatooine is rather desolate” he admits “Most of the palace is actually built underground to keep cool”

“The palace” you muse “And how does being king suit you so far?”

“The Hutt’s left that place a mess. The palace and their business affairs. It’s all been a nightmare cleaning it up” he admits “My partner Fennec and I have only been able to clear out a few rooms, the business affairs take precedent”

The word partner pulls you up short. Your heart sinks. Partner… your mind immediately jumps to significant other. If that’s the case, then why is he inviting you into their space? Does this person know Boba has made this journey to see you? Do they know he’s bringing you back with him? Your mind races, and you feel a bit measure of panic setting in. What if this partner has no idea, and gets angry? What if this situation turns sour and you have to figure out somewhere else to go?

“You’re awfully quiet” Boba observes “Have I said something to offend you?”

You figure you may as well ask… better to know what you’re walking into rather than go in blind. “Your partner” you swallow the waver in your voice “What are they like?”

“She’s a former bounty hunter like me” he says

Oh no… now you’re really in trouble…

“Hmm… and she’s just fine with you flying off to the edge of the galaxy to visit an innkeeper?” you try not to make the question sound like an accusation.

He turns to look at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips “You misunderstand little one. Fennec is my business and hunting partner. She has no influence or opinion over my personal affairs”

Relief floods your heart, followed instantly by embarrassment. “Oh, that’s… that’s good I suppose. I just didn’t want… I didn’t mean… I just don’t want to cause problems”

“You’re not causing problems. I offered this to you, and to be honest I am glad you accepted,” he admits

That makes you feel better, a little more at ease. In that moment, you realize why you’d reacted so suddenly and severely in your mind. You like him.

You haven’t had many crushes in your life, not a ton of opportunity for it. When you were young there were a few other kids your age in the settlement, maybe one or two of them caught your interest, a few secret kisses in the barn or behind the one roomed school building, but it never lasted, and for good reason. The people who passed through your inn were never really the type you had interest in either. Until now…

Hours pass sitting in the cockpit next to him, chatting about your life in the settlement and his traveling on his own since the age of ten.

You don’t want to pry, but you do make a comment on it “Ten is quite young to be on your own”

“You said yourself you were young when your parents passed and left you with the inn” he points out

“Suppose loss like that makes a person independent” you sigh

“Would have been nice if we didn’t have to be independent so early in life” he said curtly

“I would have liked to have brothers or sisters” you say wistfully “At least things seemed to turn out well enough”

“I think if my father had lived longer, I would have had a younger sibling” Boba says “I think my mother wanted a another son or daughter”

“Your mother never found love again?” You ask sympathetically

“No idea, I haven’t seen her since the beginning of The Clone Wars” he says, starting the command sequence to drop out of hyperspace

Since the beginning of The Clone War… over thirty years ago… “That’s very sad” you say quietly

“It’s better this way. I don’t think she would be proud of some of the things I’ve done” he says “But maybe someday I’ll find out what happened to her” You take that as a queue to drop the subject.

The ship drops out of hyperspace, and Boba starts the landing approach sequence. Tatooine is a massive planet. Even from space you can see it’s yellow sand and rock formation topography. It’s a wonder how any species manages to live there, given the prominent lack of water or greenery.

As the ship flys down closer to the surface you find that the chill of space dissipates, and heat radiating off the planet's surface permeates through the reinforced walls of the ship. You shed the blanket that had been keeping you warm before even touching down.

The palace is massive. The biggest structure you’ve ever seen. Three cylindrical towers built into the cliffs overlooking The Great Dune Sea.

Boba engages the ground security protocols, and lowers the ramp and escorts you to the intimidating durasteel door. There are no guards, no one patrolling to prevent entry. Boba opens the door with no indication of announcing his entry. The entryway is a short sandy strip of a room leading to a descending staircase.

He offers his arm to you “Careful Princess, these shifting sands make these steps more slippery than you’d expect”

You accept his offer, and place your hand in the crook of his arm and start down the staircase. He’s not wrong, loose sand on stone is slippery and you are glad to have his arm for stability.

The staircase ends and leads into a large space clearly meant to entertain groups. The room is in disarray. It is clear, based on the drag marks and blood splatter in the sand, Bib Fortuna and whoever else of Jabba’s entourage remained died at the hands of Boba and his partner. Outcropping in the stone walls lined with low couches, pillows, tables and chairs. Many of which are broken or knocked over. A large grate in the center of the floor sits at the foot of an elevated platform. A throne.

Boba lets your arm go, freeing you to move about the space and explore. He ascends the shorter staircase to reach the throne and sits, quietly observing you. After a moment you turn to him, and take in his regality. He’s intimidating with his emotionless helmet and solid stanced posture. A king in every right.

You smile at him and give a small curtsy “My lord”

He chuckles behind his mask, so very contrary to the stoic picture he paints with his armored silhouette. “Come, allow me to show you the rest” He rises from his seat, and extends a hand for you to take.

He shows you down a hallway lined with doors, explaining they’re private rooms previously used for guests. “Most of them haven’t been cleaned in decades”

“You would think with all the credits the Hutt’s had, they’d pay for cleaning services” you shake your head

“Unfortunately I haven’t had the time to clear out many of the private quarters. Just the Master’s chambers and a single guest room Fennec uses” he tells you, turning down a hallway with an ornate door at the end. Clearly the Master’s chambers he was referring to.

The room is bigger than the footprint of your inn. High ceilings to let hot air rise, an en-suite fresher with a deep soaking tub, a massive bed is the only furniture left in the room. It’s beautiful despite not being decorated or well maintained. But you could imagine it was much worse if this is what Boba describes as “cleaned out”.

“If you are comfortable, I would like to invite you to stay with me in the Master’s chambers” he says from behind you “At least until a room can be cleared out for you, if you so choose”

You whip around to look at him. An offer to share a bed with a king. He must see the touch of fear in your eye because he quickly speaks again.

“I have no intention of asking favor of you. I only wish to make sure you’re comfortable here. You have my word.”

You soften at his promise, and give a silent nod before thinking better of his hospitality. “Thank you”

Later that day you finally meet Boba’s infamous partner, Fennec Shand. She’s got a sharp eye, quick wit and a taste for good spotchka. It’s an interesting tale to hear how they came to meet and land up in each other’s company.

As there are not yet staff or guards in Fett’s employ, dinner is some kind of hunted desert beast Fennec killed yesterday. It’s actually not too bad, but not like the game hunted on your homeworld.

“In time we will get this sorry excuse for a capital back up and running” Boba says when the meal is finished “Full staff and guard and reopen trade”

“I can help begin clearing out the palace” you offer “Make suitable accommodations for your staff and guard, and any allies that may come to stay”

Boba looks to you “You are not obligated to do so little one, but your help is appreciated”

“I enjoy having projects” you admit with a smile “Things to work on and keep me busy”

“Then you make take the task, for so long as you choose” he smiles at you.

Despite his haggard appearance, Boba has a nice smile. It softens him, brings out the light in his eyes. You find yourself returning the smile, and unable to wipe it from your face.

The evening comes to an end. Fennec excuses herself to return to her own bed chambers. Not without casting a sidelong glance between you and Boba, still chatting away. Eventually Boba leads you back to his own chambers. True to his word, he takes his robes into the fresher to allow you the privacy to change into borrowed sleeping clothing.

“I’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow” he promises, climbing into the oversized bed beside you.

Your impulse is to thank him politely and decline the offer, but given that you are his guest and no longer have property of any kind, it’s a kindness you have to accept.

“Thank you” your cheeks burn with heat, a little embarrassed to be needing so much from him at the moment. Borrowed clothing, a place in his palace and in his bed.

You get down under the blanket on the bed. Night time in the desert is quite cold, and sandstone walls that keep the palace cool during the day turn the air chilly when the binary suns set.

Boba turns towards you, laying on his side, he looks as if he wants to say something. Ask you something. But instead he just stares, with his dark soulful eyes and seemingly perfect hint of a smile

“Goodnight Princess”

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