#cathartic don't cover it

[sphacterialboi]

I ask this with all the sincerity and urgency of a national security breach, noahfinnce debut album growing up on the internet uk tour dates WHENNN????????

[kittlyns]

Just got a check from the IRS that cured my depression

[sollucets]

they DID it

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.

You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

[clover-the-awesomest]

AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

STOP MAKING MY HEART MELT IT AINT GONNA FIX THE HOLE INSIDE OF IT-

What did Turtle Tot Sandro look like? {Da babey dumbass-}

like this!

[sunderwight]

contemplating an SVSSS fic where Airplane transmigrates into Tianlang Jun instead of Shang Qinghua.

he wakes up before Tianlang Jun was about to walk into the HH Palace Master's plot, but too late to really do much about Su Xiyan's situation or the frame job. of course, being Airplane, he doesn't go face down the sects and get sealed under a mountain. but he also doesn't know what to do about the whole situation with Luo Binghe.

he was too vague in his outline and especially in his actual story. finding Xiyan or possibly some random washer woman who lives along the Luo river is a needle in a haystack situation, and he didn't ask for any of this to happen to him, so he just ends up leaving it alone. Tianlang Jun goes back to the demon realms with his confused (but relieved) nephew, and works on consolidating his power there and on thwarting the attempted incursions of Huan Hua Palace.

HHP has egg on their face because they riled up the other sects and got them into this alliance/ambush plot and then the heavenly demon they were supposed to fight didn't even show up. hasn't even been seen in the human world since. while HHP tries to spin it as them being so strong and formidable that they scared him off, the other sects feel like they're just blowing hot air and trying to take credit for something that never even happened. was that head disciple of theirs even involved with a demon at all? suspicious how she just disappeared, too. maybe it's a cover-up. no one's particularly impressed or convinced after the fact that HHP's claims are on the level.

which at least means that there's no concerted effort to wage a war or anything. Tianlang Jun meets a young Mobei Jun and Airplane decides to expend a lot of time and energy in helping the young prince consolidate his own power, so that's a whole thing. there's no system so Airplane's not obliged to preserve the plot, but he still knows it's out there and he's gotta skirt the line between giving MBJ absolute power on a silver platter and not setting MBJ up to be killed by the protagonist one day.

there are benefits and problems to TLJ mostly leaving Luo Binghe's whole journey untouched. on the one hand, he anticipates that everything around Luo Binghe will continue just like in the novel, so that's easy to predict. but on the other hand, that means he's in for some trouble when the blackened protagonist emerges all super-powered and unbeatable from the abyss and starts taking revenge on everyone who wronged him (a category which potentially includes the deadbeat dad who abandoned him for years).

so as the time of the immortal alliance conference approaches, Tianlang Jun starts to think that he needs to get ahead of this.

the most logical solution is to prevent Luo Binghe becoming quite as OP of a protagonist as he'd been the first time. since TLJ is plenty powerful himself (one of the things Airplane enjoys! as well as being very rich!) LBH really does need every edge he could possibly get to be a threat to him. so, why let him gain those edges?

this leads to TLJ's brilliant plan: just don't let Luo Binghe get thrown into the Endless Abyss! no blackening, no all-powerful weapon, no gauntlet of monsters to hone his skills, just a run-of-the-mill heavenly demon hybrid who could never in a million years take his old man in a fight!

TLJ decides he can two-birds-with-one-stone this situation by capturing Shen Qingqiu. then, one day if LBH does still make it to his doorstep, he can present him with his hated scum villain as a peace offering. like well son I know I abandoned you to suffer on your own, but plausibly I didn't even know you existed, so here, have your abuser to dismember in cathartic violence as you please! become a filial son and this old man will help fund whatever massive harems you want to build!

genius!

so, shortly before the immortal alliance conference is set to take place, TLJ goes and steals himself a peak lord.

Shen Qingqiu is... kind of different from what he expected? but oh well, it's been years since he wrote the novel and lots of characters have turned out somewhat different in person from how they were on the page, and the guy was always a mess of contradictions anyway. TLJ hands him over to his servants with strict instructions to keep him locked up, but not to harm or kill him (revenge is reserved for the protagonist, after all!)

Zhuzhi Lang, who witnessed the last debacle where his uncle took a sudden keen interest in a cold but beautiful human cultivator, makes entirely the wrong assumption (as do a lot of the palace staff) and figures that TLJ has just become more pragmatic about pursuing his lovers. Shen Qingqiu is given appropriate chambers (and restrictions) and word soon spreads that the Demon Emperor has captured a human cultivator to serve as his concubine.

so, this version of SQQ has actually been Shen Yuan since Luo Binghe joined the sect (and also doesn't have a system and thus had zero plans of throwing LBH into the abyss), and he is desperately trying to figure out what kind of changes he has unwittingly invoked here that Luo Binghe's father should be still alive, and free, and also kidnapping him to be his goddamn concubine?! that has to be a misunderstanding, right?!

Mobei Jun is mad. and jealous. and mad. but a concubine isn't an empress, so that job posting is still available, right? it better be, he has been waiting more than a decade for the official proposal!

TLJ meanwhile decides he's going to go secretly watch the immortal alliance conference just to make sure that the universe doesn't contrive to drop LBH into the abyss anyway, but weirdly enough, Luo Binghe isn't even there. listening to rumors, he gathers that uh... some stuff has changed? like Luo Binghe is head disciple of Qing Jing Peak? and apparently went crazy when Shen Qingqiu disappeared? except that some people think they might have eloped???

maybe he shouldn't get his rumors from Xian Shu disciples, those girls remind him of rpf conspiracy theory shippers from his old life. they're probably just way off base! hahaha... ha...?

well at least TLJ did a pretty good job of covering his tracks, so there's no reason for anyone to suspect that he captured Shen Qingqiu. or there shouldn't be, until he goes back home to find that every single demon seems to believe that Shen Qingqiu has been taken by him to be his lover. where did anyone even get that idea?! TLJ has been dutifully pining in his unrequited and inappropriate love for the young Mobei Jun for years now! whenever anyone asks he insists he's still mourning Su Xiyan! it's been a whole thing!

but oh shit, truth aside, there's no way those kinds of rumors have remained strictly contained to demon ears. both demons and cultivators have their spies after all, and even if they didn't, news moves along the borders.

sure enough, TLJ barely has time to try and dismantle this misunderstanding before a young Luo Binghe arrives on his doorstep, along with Yue Qingyuan and the very-much-still-alive lord of Bai Zhan peak, for some reason, all of them extremely pissed off at him!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

you should watch alien stage 😁 it’s a really wholesome and heartwarming web series on YouTube by VIVINOS. Nothing bad happens! And I think that you would like it!

So before I checked out Alien Stage, I asked an irl about it to get a feel for the series. They jokingly described Alien Stage to me as "Hunger Games with doomed yuri and yaoi plus some toxic het on the side", and after catching up with the playlist of hits... yeah, that's pretty accurate. I'm so invested in this now 🤡

I have Ruler of My Heart stuck in my head, specifically this English cover of it! To probably no one's surprise, I'm really gravitating to Luka... WHAT CAN I SAY, I LOVE ANGELIC LOOKING CHARACTERS WITH PRINCELY AND CHARISMATIC PERSONAS THAT ARE ACTUALLY SO MANIPULATIVE AND SCUMMY. AFSLFAYOEFIYFAEEAF; AND HOW CAN I NOT ADORE A GUY THAT PULLS THSI KINDA FACE:

I think part of his charm is that contrast between how he's seen as a "prince" by his fans when he's anything but. The artists outdid themselves with the MV; it perfectly conveys how truly terrible Luka is. I was so uncomfortable watching the video play out. The way he progressively creeps closer and keeps invading Mizi's personal space, taunting her, imitating her dead bestie/crush, putting his hands all over her, AND THAT GROSS WHISTLE HE DOES IN THE BEGINNING???? That made my skin CRAWL. Luka is for real so awful and I love that for him-- MIZI WAS RIGHT TO SWING AT HIM, IT WAS CATHARTIC 💀

I wanna give big props to Mizi's facial expressions too... They're so despair-filled and delicious, even when it's just her widened eyes repeating on the screen. The animation specifically for the line "I don't believe you're a liar" is top tier 👌 It's nothing fancy, but it conveys just how distressed Mizi is and how that's impacting her ability to sing. The way she gulps is so punchy and visceral. THE HATE IN MIZI'S EYES AS SHE'S RESTRAINED FROM COMING AT HIM AGAIN???? Good stuff. The twist at the end where the stage gets smoke bombed (?) and Mizi is rescued by the rebellion was great too. It robs Luka of the satisfaction of seeing his rival gunned down and him being declared as the victor. (P.S. I thought Hyuna was Jamil when I first saw her design; this is proof that Jamil has cool onee-san energy/j) Super looking forward to seeing Luka square off against Till, who is another favorite of mine. The eyebags— Till the End is probably my second favorite song so far; it's so intense in the close-up shots of Till singing his heart out to the audience. (Poor Mob-kun though, bro's getting DESTROYED out here...) I admire Till's fighting spirit but at the same time I feel so bad every time he's subdued 💦 Whereas I want Luka to get knocked down a peg, I want Till to find happiness and safety...

qweliboqeuvqied Anyway, that's my current brain rot 😊

[facefullofsadness]

I can't fall in love with you

university!au

crush!giselle x admirer!reader

prompt - minjeong is so in love with her girlfriend aeri, but so are you, and you can't be

content - angst, complicated relationship dynamics, alcohol usage, allusions to suicide

wc - 3378

a/n - cathartic: involving the release of strong emotions

the sky is covered with dark clouds, there must be rain today.

it's almost ironic how the weather works, considering the number of nights I've been crying recently. it's been weeks since I last talked to aeri. I've avoided her like the plague to run away from the reality of whatever was brewing inside me emotionally that I felt towards her. minjeong is an incredible girl and the only girl that should really matter in aeri's life, I can't possibly interrupt that, no matter how badly I want minjeong's girlfriend.

knowing aeri for months, we grew closer together, to each other. I got so attached to her; she listened to me, let me rant to her about anything I wanted to, important or irrelevant, took care of me in the moments where I felt out of control of my own life, guided me through the days where I didn't want to try anymore, held me and let me cry into her as I shattered into a million pieces. my heart would always swell thousands of times its original size when she would look at me with those soft and kind eyes, running her big hands through my hair and holding me close as I sobbed, her comforting words making me melt all over again.

I love her, I love her so much, but I know that having her is impossible. I'm not the girl in her life that she prioritizes above all, that she would run to even if I'm on the floor sobbing, even if she made me feel that way. I realized this and became terrified, so I ran away. I abandoned her even after promising to never do so, ghosting her in an effort to leave her to live her life as normal, without so much baggage weighing on her shoulders because of me. but I so badly wanted to go back to her, run into her embrace that would instantly cure me of my agony, but I fought myself instead.

I was a fool to think I could listen to my brain and not follow my heart. cause as I drink the last of my third bottle of alcohol of the night, drunk out of my mind, I couldn't stop myself from texting her. of course, I should've thrown out my phone long ago. incoherent words send themselves to aeri, letters I can barely comprehend. but only minutes later, my vision clears when she replies:

</3: come to the playground

the playground near my apartment, a place we knew well, a place we went to for amusement or solace. maybe, this time it was more for conclusion.

"I hate when you're like this."

aeri says as I stumble over myself to reach the pole holding the swing set up.

"you act like I'm self-destructive or something," I respond sarcastically, slurring over my words, the alcohol in my system taking over completely.

she sighs at what I said, "don't joke around. I don't want you killing yourself... don't you see how hard I'm trying for you? don't you know how much I care about you y/n? how fucking heartbreaking it is to see you like this?"

even intoxicated, I can hear the venom in her voice as she gets irritated with me.

I chuckle back, "oh whatever aeri, don't waste your energy on me."

"fuck you y/n, I can't keep doing this," aeri raises her voice, desperation and exhaustion evident in it.

silence hangs for a second as my world spins, vision blurry, the darkness of the night not helping at all. my stomach churns and my heart burns, aching. all the things I want to confess to her getting stuck in my throat, unable to release itself.

I hiccup once before uttering out, "then leave, don't waste your time on me."

the sound of aeri clenching her fists around the metal supports of the swing are loud enough to be heard, but then, it's silent again. the summer late night breeze flows through the air, a solo lamp post above us providing us with the faintest amount of light, distant chirps of cicadas to accompany the noise of passing cars in the street nearby. then, a choked sob from the girl next to me.

I turn towards her, almost throwing up at the sudden movement. aeri's crying, a single tear falls from her right eye, running down her cheek and falling to the sand below. there's no follow-up sobs, just silent teardrops running down her sweet devastated looking face. my whole chest tightens at the sight, making my head spin more as the alcohol clashes with my heartbreak.

"y/n, if you wanted to leave me, you should've just said so..." it's practically a whisper, barely audible to my dazed mind, but I'm fully zoned in on listening to anything aeri has to say in this moment.

her words sink in however, my stomach unsettled from a mixture of the verbal heartbreak and the physical coping mechanism dancing together in tragic collaboration.

"if you were just gonna leave me hanging for so long, you could've just told me," her voice is louder, "do you know how long I waited for you? do you know how badly I missed you? how badly I wanted to reach out to you? it's not like it would've mattered considering you'd just ignore me."

she continues, "I've tried so, fucking, hard, to ignore how badly it aches being without you," each word added with a pause to emphasize herself. "every single second that has passed since you left me, all I've been able to think about is you."

her eyes close shut as she now uses her hands as her emotions pour out her mouth, "I literally cannot stop thinking about you. my fucking head is just filled with you, you, you. I can't be normal, if my ears aren't filled with noise then the thoughts of you come flowing back in and I can't stop them from being loud."

she hangs her head, her arms falling limp beside her, voice quieting down into defeated sighs, "you promised y/n, you promised me you wouldn't leave. but I can't hate you, I've never been able to hate you or dislike you or feel an ounce of disdain or contempt towards you because I don't, I never will be able to. I only but love you. and I can't stop loving you and I don't know how to stop, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop, even if I tried it wouldn't work because I HAVE tried. and even then, I still fucking love you."

deafening silence hangs once again in the air, the tension palpable. I feel my chest squeeze, the overwhelming rush of emotions colliding with my fragile heart, feeling the liquid courage in my system turn to regret.

"always so eloquent with words, aren't you aeri?" my voice manages to squeak out, surprising myself, "but never enough to read the room."

she turns to look at me, eyes filled with tears. I hesitate from speaking, the words I want to say stuck at the back of my throat, stopping them from spilling out. if I weren't drunk enough to care, I'd listen to my thoughts, but my body reacts on its own, knowing that if I don't speak now, I'll hold this suppressed pain till the end.

"why do you think I've avoided you? why do you think I needed the space and distance? because I didn't want to see you? because I didn't wanna talk to you anymore? because you didn't make me happy anymore? didn't make me feel like the only girl to ever exist in this wicked fucking world, the only person to truly see and love me, the only person to make me feel like I mattered?"

I can't hold myself back as my emotions overflow from my tongue, unable to halt its onslaught, no longer in control of my own self.

I become louder, choked sentences turning into audible begs for her to listen, "do you really think my words meant nothing? that I didn't mean it when I said all those things to you? that you were the first person, the only person I would go to when I felt like shit? did you even listen to me?!"

"of course I fucking listened to you y/n! why are you acting like I'm stupid?!" aeri argues with me.

"because you're blind aeri!" I argue back, "can't you see?! can't you fucking see what's going on?!"

"I don't understand!"

"I'm in love with you aeri! I'm in love with all of you, every single part of you! I love your smile, your voice, your laugh, your body, your hands holding mine, your warm comforting hugs, your hums when I lay on your chest, your pats on my back when everything is too overwhelming, the affirmation you give when I feel like dying, the interest you show when I rant about something stupid, the shine in your eyes when you talk about your interests, the gentleness you give me when I'm crying, the love you make me feel when you simply exist in my presence and even if we're not together you still make me feel like I matter! I fucking love you!!!"

drops of rain softly fall to the ground around us, a light drizzle slowly emerging from the sky, the weight of my outburst heavy in the air.

my voice croaks, almost whispering, "I've fallen so deeply and harshly and intensely in love with you, every part of my body aches because while I love you, I cannot have you. I know you love me too but you can't love me the way I so desperately want you to, the way I so desperately love you."

the moon glistens in her eyes, shiny with tears and cheeks trailing with raindrops. so much pain painted on her face, and yet she's still so beautiful, my heart longs even harder for aeri.

"being around you makes me feel like the angel you say I am, makes me feel like I'm floating above the clouds and you're the reason why I'm able to do that, makes me feel like nothing else matters as long as I have you. but it also reminds me of how it's all not real, how I can't just have you, that I'm not your only one. it's minjeong and it should be, but my god do I wish it were me..." my voice weakens with the last part of the sentence, the tears streaming down my trembling cheeks.

"so aeri, I'm inexplicably sorry for breaking your heart, but mine is shattered too. my reality, this reality, it's unbearable, and I so badly yearn for you. I've been agonizingly in pain wanting you, needing you ever since I've left with no words, but resisting it because I can't ruin the good thing you and minjeong have. no matter how insanely desperate I am for you, I know it's not right for me to fight myself for you."

we both cry silently, the slight rustle of leaves from the trees around us in harmony with the serene but heartbreaking drizzle of rain muffled by the sand of the dark abandoned playground. it pained me greatly watching the love of my life look so utterly torn apart in front of me, me being the reason aeri was so broken. all I want to do is reach out to her, cup her precious face into my hands, wipe the salty tears from her cheeks, and kiss her plump trembling lips, reassure her that everything will be okay. but again, I can't, I couldn't, my shoes glued to the floor and hands clutching the material of my jacket, like I could hold in the pain aching in my chest.

"y/n..." her voice shaky, tone unrecognizable compared to the comforting and confident girl I knew, "I love you."

even though her voice was weak, what she said made my knees wanna give out, buckling at her words. she had told me she loved me before but this time she sounded different, it made my churning stomach fill with butterflies. my chest pounded harder as aeri started to walk closer to me, tiny but impactful steps as she was almost up against me. her warm hands carefully cupping my cheeks, thumbs caressing my skin and wiping my tears away as I melt completely into her touch. as my eyes close, I feel her forehead rest against mine, aeri's soft lips very slightly grazing mine, my hands falling to slip themselves into her hoodie, holding her close by her waist, afraid to let go.

I clutch her tightly, a contrast to the soft grasp aeri's hands hold my face in, so warm on my cheeks. even for this small moment in time that the two of us settle in, I feel all my anxiety and agony wash away with the rain, comforted and at peace with the world when I'm with her, the girl I'm so tragically in love with holding me like it's the only thing either of us want, need. god I wish this moment would last forever.

what I would give to kiss her right now. how badly I want to just close the miniscule amount of distance between us and feel her soft lips mold against my strawberry soju flavored ones. how desperately I want to pull her into me and never let go, making out with her breathlessly. and how painfully I hold myself back, restricting myself from acting upon any urge I harbor, not letting myself give my everything to the woman I love.

"aeri... I love you," my voice breaks in a sob, "and I'm sorry..."

I take a good look at my one and only girl for the last time, observing her perfection, how ethereal aeri uchinaga is to me. then I rip myself away from her warmth, turning and never looking back, tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision of the already pitch black night.

I run. I run and run. I keep running. I cry, furiously. I can't see anything. all I can hear is the sound of my own sobs as I throw myself against the wall of a building and shrink to the floor, wailing into my arms.

the days that followed were a blur. I don't remember how the night ended, how I got home, what happened after, nothing. I didn't touch my phone, didn't contact or respond to anyone, just rotted the days away in my bed, eating or using the bathroom when my stomach hurt too much. not even a knock at the door would force me to get up from my asylum, not a phone call, not an urgent emergency, not anything that could possibly be of importance. simply because nothing mattered. I used to believe it would all be okay if nothing did matter, but my reason to keep believing is gone now, she's all gone.

looking out the window all day, the clouds were dark and heavy, steady drizzling from the sky once again. I took a trip to the kitchen, interrupted by a white envelope on the floor near the door. it compelled me forward, shakily opening it and feeling all of my emotions run back to me as soon as I recognized the handwriting.

dear y/n,

I don't know anymore. I've thought a lot about everything and I just, I've got nothing. nothing to tell you that'll make everything okay, that'll solve any problems or issues, that'll make anyone feel better. I'm sorry y/n, for letting all of this happen. I've come to the realization that it's out of my hands, emotions and love, they act on their own, but while I'm sure I can't completely blame myself for how you feel about me, I could've let you go softly instead of letting you love me, even if I didn't know. I got close to you, closer than I've ever gotten I think to anyone, not minjeong, not my friends, not my family, you. I should've known that our clinginess to each other would lead to such a demise.

I write all of this to say, ultimately, I love you. I still love you, I don't think I can bring myself to stop loving you, again, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. I'll be leaving soon, the fall semester is gonna start and I'll be gone and out of your hair in more ways than one before you know it. not that it matters but me and minjeong broke up. it was never gonna work out between us considering the differences in what we wanted and how impossible it was for us to be with one another. I could sense the end for us, I could feel her falling out of love with me. unfortunately I've lost one too many people I've loved deeply and I don't think I can reasonably recover ever from this.

y/n, if you're ever ready to love me again, in any way, shape, or form, I'll be there. I want you to know I'll never stop loving you, again, I fucking can't. I don't know why I keep holding onto you when I know it's over, I know we're over, I know you don't want to, or wish you could stop giving a fuck about me. so goodbye y/n. thank you for making me just the happiest girl I could've been for as long as you existed in this life of mine. you made me feel beautiful, gave me butterflies, made me feel like if everything in life fell apart and that if it was just me and you that it would be perfectly fine, like nothing or no one mattered as long as it was just us, you made me feel so fucking incredible, inside and out. I've never felt such euphoria from anyone before, and haven't felt so gorgeous until you came around, like the goddess you treated me as.

admittedly, I think you were slowly but very effectively taking my heart. I never let myself dwell on those thoughts for too long but deep down I knew that it was true. everything you said that night when I held your precious face in my hands, I couldn't ignore it, I was falling for you too. I wanted to kiss you so bad, to close my eyes as our lips met and ignore the world falling apart around us, but you pulled away and I stood there with my hands in the air covered in rain, feeling my heart break all over again. I love minjeong and I'll continue to love her till I die, but I don't think I was in love with her anymore, but in love now with you. letting you steal my heart while minjeong's heart was in my hands is regrettable, I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself even if she never knows. though, I don't regret having fallen for you, I mean I wouldn't have if there was no reason to, right? but ultimately, it's my fault for letting two incredible people fall in love with me, someone who couldn't keep their hearts from breaking in the end.

I can't promise you this little life of mine will last long, I'm, broken, shattered, and quite frankly, I don't wanna try loving anymore, I think this might've been my last straw. I've never been good with love, you know that, and yet you loved me, maybe you still do. I don't know if I can handle anyone else falling in love with me and letting myself fumble with their precious emotions any longer, so taking out the middle man feels like the conclusion I've reached. we both ended up breaking our promises of staying for each other, didn't we? how ironic, isn't it y/n? I'm sorry for leaving you, but I can't find it in my own fragile heart to stay. so, thank you for being my friend, my love, mine.

I'll protect you from the other side,

your aeri

the rain outside started to pour.

[munson-blurbs]

Billy Hargrove is into you, and you assume that you don't deserve better than that narcissistic douchebag. When heartbreak inevitably happens, Eddie Munson is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (f! receiving), protected p in v, Billy is a POS, reader is insecure about her body (no descriptions given, though she mentions not liking her stomach)

**Billy is very manipulative to get reader to sleep with him, though she does consent**

WC: 5.7k

A/N: This is based on two real experiences I had when I was younger. It's incredibly self-indulgent, but has also been wonderful for my healing process. I hope it can help someone else, too. (Also, sorry if it's rambly; it was cathartic but also emotionally difficult to write).

--

As the last swimmer exits through the iron gates, you breathe a sigh of relief at the end of another shift. Lifeguarding at Hawkins Community Pool wasn’t necessarily a difficult job, but it sure was tedious. Your flip-flops thwap against the pavement as you pad into the locker room to get dressed, skin sticky from sunscreen and that infamous mid-July humidity.

“So,” Heather says, twisting her blonde hair into a ponytail as she changes from her swimsuit into shorts and a t-shirt, “you ready to hear that secret?”

You nod enthusiastically. It’s all you’d been thinking about since you’d climbed down the lifeguard tower when her watch duty began, and she’d whispered that she had something to say to you privately. 

Heather’s eyes gleam as she announces, “Billy told me he thinks you’re hot!” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Not that he needed to; anyone can watch him check you out all day long,” she adds with a smirk. 

“Me?” you ask incredulously, unable to muffle your surprise. On instinct, you wrap your arms around your waist protectively. Heather might be comfortable changing in public, but your own body insecurities made it torturous for you to even be naked privately. 

“Yes, you!” your co-worker giggles. “You should talk to him.”

You’re still mulling over the prospect of Billy Hargrove being into you when your ride pulls up to the pool gates. Waving goodbye to Heather, you hop in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. He picks you up every night you work, and the two of you always split a joint in your backyard before he heads back to the trailer park. It makes your crappy summer job all worth it; God knows the pay isn’t even going to cover your textbooks when you go back to college in August.

“Save any little gremlins today?” he jokes, turning down his music so he can hear your answer.

You shake your head and laugh. “Nah, just yelled, ‘no running!’ about 84 times.” Leaning back in the seat and stretching your legs, you glance over at him. “But Heather told me something interesting.” Eddie cocks his eyebrow, and you take that as a sign to continue. “Apparently, Billy Hargrove thinks I’m hot.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Sure, he’s not exactly your knight in shining armor, but he’s an attractive guy who has a thing for you.

“Oh, ew.” Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Please describe the look on that douche canoe’s face when you turn him down.”

“Who says I’m turning him down?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Your best friend sighs. “Well, you should,” he says pointedly, never one to mince words. “Guys like Hargrove only want to get in a girl’s pants and then find a new victim.”

“Why are you being such a bummer?” you snap. Eddie just keeps his eyes on the road, oblivious to your glare. “If Jeff was about to get laid, you’d be throwing him a goddamn parade!”

He chuckles tersely. “That’s because Jeff getting laid would be a fuckin’ miracle.”

You look around, exaggerating your movements for emphasis. “Well, asshole, I don’t exactly see a line of people forming to sleep with me, either.” With that, you pull your knees to your chest and turn your body so that your back is to him.

The car is silent, save for the sounds of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album crackling through the speakers. After what seems like an eternity, Eddie pulls into your driveway and throws the van in park.

“Did…did you still wanna smoke?” he asks quietly, twiddling with a loose thread on the ripped knee of his jeans.

“Nope.” You jump out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you. “And you don’t have to drive me home tomorrow. I bet Billy will do it.”

You hear him calling your name as you stalk into your house. Honestly, you could really use some weed right now, but you’re too infuriated at him to push it all aside for a quick smoke session.

The next day, you make a point to sit next to Billy when you take your break. He’s smoking a cigarette, occasionally flicking ash into a chipped tray on the table. 

“Can I bum one?” you ask, pointing to the rolled tobacco between his plush lips. 

Billy smirks, reaching for the pack of Marlboros and holding it out to you. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker, sugar.” He passes you his lighter, and you spark up and inhale deeply.

“I usually prefer something greener, but this’ll do.” You take another drag, trying to work up the nerve to say what’s on your mind. As the smoke curls around your mouth, you notice Billy’s eyes trail down the curves of your body, as though he’s trying to drink you in. “Something I can help you with, Hargrove?” you tease, impressed with the way you easily flirt with him. It’s so unlike you, but it feels good.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “You can hang with me tonight. Got the place to myself, so, y’know…” He trails off and raises his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

Your stomach flip-flops despite yourself. This is what you want, right? No more waiting around for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet. It’s not going to happen, never going to happen, not when you look the way you do. And if a gorgeous man like Billy Hargrove is actually willing to have sex with you, you’re in no position to turn him down. “O-Okay,” you stammer, hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness. “I’m working till nine tonight; is that–”

“Perfect,” he interrupts, flashing you a megawatt smile. “I finish at six, but I’ll stick around just for you, pretty thing.”

Pretty. He called you pretty, and he wants you. Wants you enough to hang out at work for an extra three hours just to be with you.

The rest of your shift drags by; all you can think about is Billy. The way he feels, the way he tastes, what he looks like underneath those swim trunks.

The only problem is that he’ll also want to see you naked. The thought sours your mood. You try not to catch glimpses of yourself in the bathroom mirror after you get out of the shower, and now you’re about to let him see you, completely vulnerable.

Stop being such a baby, you scold yourself. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Billy’s waiting outside the locker room once your shift ends. He takes your hand in his larger, stronger one, and leads you to his car.

“Seems kinda silly, getting changed out of that cute little swimsuit,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “when you’re gonna get undressed again so soon.” He leans you up against the passenger door, pinning your hips back and kissing you hungrily. One hand roams under your t-shirt to the swell of your breasts, breaking away when he feels the fabric of your bra. “You tryin’ to hide these from me, sugar?” He starts to reach for the clasp, but you stand up a bit straighter.

“Did you wanna, like, grab something to eat?” you ask shyly. “We can stop by Benny’s on the way to yours if…if you like burgers?” You cringe as the words leave your lips. Could you sound any more pathetic?

Billy just chuckles patronizingly. “That sounds like a date, and, uh, I don’t do dates.” He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “But I do other stuff real well.”

Something isn’t right. This isn’t what you want, but you should want it, and so you push down the apprehension and try to focus on the man in front of you. “That’s fine,” you murmur, even though it isn’t. People have casual sex all the time. It doesn’t mean he’s any less attracted to you. Like he said, he’s not the dating type, so why cause problems where none exist?

“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to mine,” he growls, and you can practically taste the spearmint gum that he was chewing earlier. “Might just have to do you in the backseat, hm?”

You nod as he opens the door for you, pretending for a millisecond to be a gentleman. He clambors in behind you and slams it shut, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his waist. You can feel his erection pressed against your clothed sex, and you allow yourself to smile. You did this to him. You got him hard. Not Chrissy Cunningham, or Heather, or Bo Derek. You.

He starts to take off your shirt, but you push his hands away. “Something wrong?” he asks, giving an exasperated sigh. Did you already fuck this up?

“N-No, it’s just…” you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “Could I keep my shirt on? I don’t really like my body, and I’d just feel better if I didn’t, um, take it off.” Heat blazes behind your cheeks, and you will yourself not to cry.

“For fuck’s sake,” Billy grumbles under his breath, flexing his biceps as he stretches. He lets his hands fall to your ass with a soft smack. “You got me all worked up, and now you’re not even gonna let me see your tits?”

You duck your head in shame. “I’m kinda insecure about the way I look,” you admit, hoping it will soften his heart. Though kinda is an understatement. 

He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth impatiently. “Y’know,” he finally says, squeezing the plush of your ass, “you might feel better about yourself if you got naked for me.” 

You inhale sharply; that’s not at all what you expected him to say. Maybe something reassuring; something about how much he liked the way you look. Instead, he’s clearly irritated with your hesitation. 

“M-Maybe.” It’s worth a shot, and you slowly peel off your top and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car. You watch anxiously as his eyes flit across your bare chest, waiting for his reaction. An indication that he just has to have you and only you.

Instead, he clicks his tongue and simply says, “not bad.” He fumbles with your shorts button before unfastening his own. He strokes his cock lazily, staring at you. “Touch yourself, sugar. Get yourself ready f’me.”

There’s something screaming at you that this isn’t right; he should at least attempt to get you off instead of asking you to do the work for him. But you do as you’re told, not wanting to humiliate yourself further. 

You shimmy out of your shorts, pushing your panties aside and rubbing slow, timid circles around your clit. You’ve done this plenty of times to know what feels good, yet you can’t seem to get it right when it counts. Billy doesn’t notice—or care—that the moans floating past your lips are fake, and he lines himself up with your entrance. 

“Condom?” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes again.

“Doesn’t feel as good,” he grumbles, but he reaches into his wallet and pulls out the square piece of foil and tears it open, sliding the rubber over his thick cock. He pushes into you, not bothering to take his time as he ruts up. “Move your hips for me,” he tells you. “Bounce up and down; damn, do I gotta walk you through everything?”

Tears prickle at your eyes, and you manage to blink them away before he can see. Maybe this’ll get easier with time, you think. Maybe I’m just too nervous. You will yourself to relax, holding onto his broad shoulders as you lean down to kiss him.

“Feels good, yeah?” Billy grunts, and you nod as you zone out. You throw out a few more half-hearted whines as his hips stutter against your pelvis and he spills into the condom. “Fuck, there ya go, take it,” he croons, sweat trickling down his forehead. As soon as he rides out his orgasm, he’s hoisting you off of him so he can clean himself up. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” You try to sound enthusiastic. “Could you, um, drive me home?”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, but waits for you to put your clothes back on and climb into the passenger seat.

He wants to do this again tomorrow, meaning he wasn’t completely repulsed by your body. So everything should be good, right?

The next week and a half is filled with lust-fueled backseat romps, usually ending with Billy coming and you…well, returning home to use your trusty vibrator. You’re starting to feel a bit more comfortable, but not in your own skin. It’s more that there’s a certain power behind Billy choosing you when he could be with literally anyone else. You hold your head a little higher, walk a little taller. Even your parents notice on your weekend trip to visit your grandparents in Indianapolis, though you didn’t clue them in on the source of your newfound confidence.

When you get back to the pool that Monday, you’re about to whisper in Billy’s ear to ask if he has a second to “check out a situation in the locker room” with you. What you find stops you dead in your tracks.

His arm is wrapped around Heather. They’re laughing together and she presses her lips to his cheek; he tilts her chin so he can kiss her passionately. It’s more tender, more loving than the way he kisses you.

The ground starts to spin, and you grab onto a plastic chair to steady yourself. As soon as Heather walks away, you march over to Billy.

“What the fuck?” you hiss, trying to keep your volume down. You wince as your voice cracks, giving away the sadness tucked inside your frustration. “Are you with Heather now? Like, with her?”

“Uh, guess so,” Billy replies snidely, twirling a toothpick between his teeth.

You bite your lower lip, willing yourself not to cry. “I thought you said you weren’t the dating type?”

He shrugs. “Just kinda happened,” he says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just destroy your world. “You were away, she asked me to go to Scoops and grab some ice cream; one thing led to another, and…” he trails off. “Not like you and I were exclusive or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t wanna be!”

“And why do you think that is, huh?” Billy shoots back. “Why do you think I’d rather be with Heather than with you?” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair slightly. “You’re so goddamn uptight, y’know? Always worrying about the way you look, about people seeing us in the car. Heather just…goes with the flow. I can’t deal with someone so high-maintenance. Actually, most guys can’t.” With that, he storms out of the break room, leaving you trembling.

A wave of nausea washes over you as you slump down in a seat. All you wanted was to be wanted, and you blew it. Billy’s right; your insecurities keep you unloveable.

You try to take deep breaths, letting the tears slip down your cheeks. Your shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes, so you pray that you’re able to collect yourself before you’re due to start your watch. You’re sobbing too hard to notice the two boys peering into the lounge, watching you with growing concern before dashing to the nearest payphone. 

You slide on your sunglasses to hide your red, puffy eyes. The last thing you need is people asking you what’s wrong. Just as you’re about to walk over to the lifeguard stand–to switch with Billy, of all people–you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Eddie.

“Um, hey,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Will and Dustin called; said they saw Hargrove yelling at you, and you crying. Told me to ‘get my scrawny ass here, stat.’” He gives a terse chuckle. “Exact quote, by the way.”

You want to wrap your arms around him and never let go, but you remember what he said to you. Worse, that he was right. “‘M fine,” you lie, and Eddie sees right through it.

He gingerly takes off your sunglasses, heart breaking as he gets a glimpse of your tearful expression. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. It’s so tender, sweet, and selfless. It’s Eddie.

“Go tell your boss that you’re not feeling well, yeah?” he says finally, still not letting you go. “We can go grab something to eat, and you can tell me everything.”

“‘M not hungry,” you shake your head, “and I just wanna go home.” Your voice is whiny, but you’re too sad to care.

“Okay, well, you’re still leaving,” Eddie insists, and you don’t have the energy to argue. “The sheep,” he gestures to where Dustin and Will are standing, and they wave as though they’ve been caught, “will tell your boss that you’re sick. Lady problems or whatever.” You feel his fingers intertwine with yours as he leads you to his van. “And you can tell me as much as you want, ‘kay?”

You nod wordlessly as Eddie gives the younger kids a thumbs-up. He normally chooses the music, whether he’s the driver or the passenger, but this time, he tilts his chin towards the radio and says, “all yours.”

You turn the dial until you hear a Fleetwood Mac song, expecting Eddie to crack a joke or complain about your selection, but he just taps the steering wheel to the beat. When he drives to a gas station to fill up his tank, you don’t think anything of it until he comes back out with a bag full of Haagen-Daaz.

“Got all your favorite flavors,” he announces, plopping back into the driver’s seat. “I know you said you’re not hungry, but you will be at some point. So…sustenance.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you manage a small “thanks,” as he drives you back to your place. When he pulls into the driveway, he waits awkwardly for you to say anything else.

Finally, he breaks the silence by handing you the bag from the Shell station. “Don’t want this to melt,” he offers lamely, frowning when you burst into a fresh round of tears. You hear him mutter, “that’s it,” and he kills the engine, jumping out of the van to run to your side. “Up and at ‘em.” He pulls you out of your seat, scooping you up and flinging you over his shoulder with ease. He kicks the van door closed, walking to your front door before setting you down. 

“That’s my favorite method of transportation,” you giggle softly, and he breathes a sigh of relief as your humor peeks through. 

“Save a horse, ride a Munson, right?” he jokes back, blushing when he realizes the double entendre he just made. “Uh, anyway, I can leave if you want…” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. 

“You can come in,” you say, unlocking the door. He follows you, heading straight for the kitchen and grabbing two spoons from the drawer. 

“Figured we could start with cookie dough,” he says, holding out the pint. “Ladies first.”

The two of you sit on the couch in comfortable silence as you dig into dessert. Halfway through, you look up at him through misty eyes. “I’m waiting for the ‘I told you so,’” you say softly. 

“Huh?”

You tell Eddie everything: Billy’s claim that he wanted something casual, his reaction to you asking to keep your shirt on, the venom he spewed earlier today. “I never should’ve trusted him.”

But Eddie’s seeing red, fists clenched and jaw squared in pure rage. “The fuck did he say?” He stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over the pint of ice cream. 

“Where are you going?”

“To kick his sorry ass!” Eddie exclaims, grabbing his keys from the table where he tossed them. 

“He’s not worth it,” you tell him. “Just…can you stay here and eat ice cream with me? Please?”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, plopping back down next to you. “But I still wanna punch him in the face.”

“You and me both,” you agree, taking another spoonful before posing the question you’ve been too afraid to ask. “Do you think I’m a slut?”

Eddie nearly chokes on his bite of cookie dough. “A slut? Because you slept with some douchebag?”

“No,” you say quietly, “for having sex with someone because I wanted to feel beautiful.”

His whole body deflates. “That’s why you…why wouldn’t you think you’re beautiful?”

You bark out a tense laugh. “Where to start? Um, my face, my hair, my body…oh, and apparently, now I’m too insecure and uptight to love, so…”

Eddie cradles your face between his strong, calloused hands. “Listen to me,” he says. “You are the most goddamn beautiful person on this Earth. Your eyes…I could stare into them all day. You have the cutest nose I’ve ever seen. Your smile makes me smile. And your hair…no matter how you wear it, you always look good. Sometimes you say things like, ‘ugh, my hair’s a mess today,’ and I’m just flabbergasted.”

“Flabbergasted?” you interject, amused by his word choice.

“Flabbergasted,” Eddie affirms. “And your body is…I’m gonna sound like such a creep here, so forgive me, but your body is so fucking hot. Like the night we had that argument, you said something about no one else wanting to sleep with you. But I know for a fact that that’s not true.”

“It’s not? Who wants to sleep with me?”

Eddie laughs nervously as he slowly raises his hand. “Um, me? But not, like, in a smash-and-dash way. Like in a take you on dates, hold your hand, be your boyfriend kinda way? Oh my God, just tell me to shut up. Please.”

“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” you mutter.

“Nope. It’s the truth. Cross my heart.” He makes the slashes across his chest with his fingers. “Wait…the thought of us together cheers you up?”

You nod shyly. “Just never thought you’d be into me like that.”

“Well, I am. I so fuckin’ am, holy shit.” Eddie looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s holding back. “Can I take you on a date? Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’d love a date with you, Eddie Munson.” You watch as a grin spreads across his face, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He lays his arm along the back of the couch, not quite sure whether to put it around you. That’s how the two of you fall asleep as the remaining ice cream melts in its container.

Seeing Billy at work the next day still stings a bit, but it’s easier than it was. You know he’s an idiot, a player, a manipulative piece of shit. And you have a date with Eddie, who is the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever met. And you deserve that kindness.

Eddie picks you up from work as usual, but instead of his typical ripped jeans and a concert tee, he’s wearing…well, un-ripped jeans and a concert tee. But he smells like a new cologne as he kisses your cheek, blushing as he pulls away.

“You look absolutely incredible,” he muses, reaching over to hold your hand. “Seriously, I’m so lucky you agreed to go out with me, shit.” He smiles at you, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just…” He can’t seem to shed his dopey, lovesick grin. “Told myself I wasn’t gonna kiss you; like, kiss you kiss you, until the end of the date. But you just look so goddamn gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” you duck your head, trying to hide from him. “I’m the lucky one. My date is hot and has a kickass personality to match.”

“Guess we both got lucky tonight.” Eddie bites his lower lip when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean–”

You squeeze his hand, effectively silencing his racing thoughts. “Where are you taking me?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It’s not that you were embarrassed by his Freudian slip, but after what happened with Billy, you weren’t looking to rush into sex.

“You’ll see,” Eddie says, excitement building in his voice. A few moments later, you’re walking into the Coffee and Contemplation Café, with Eddie holding the door open for you. Your sundress swishes along your thighs as you take a seat across from Eddie. He immediately takes your hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs.

“Eds?”

“Mm?”

“I need to look at the menu.”

“Oh.” He lets go of your hands, looking a bit sad as he does. “Sorry, baby. Shit–can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I really like that, actually.” Baby. You’re Eddie’s “Baby.”

When the waitress comes around, you order a vanilla latte, and Eddie orders coffee with cream and two sugars. “That’s what Wayne always orders when we go to the diner,” he explains. The two of you decide to split a piece of crumb cake–one slice, two forks.

“This is a really nice date, Eds.” You wrinkle your nose. “Hmm. I need a cute nickname for you now, huh?”

Eddie taps his chin as though he’s deep in thought. “How about…stud muffin?” He feigns offense when you giggle. “What? Am I not studly?”

“Oh, the studliest,” you reassure him, still laughing. “I like ‘babe,’ though. Because you are a babe.”

“I dunno…kinda like stud muffin better,” Eddie teases, taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, tell me all about your day.”

And so you fill him in on every detail, from the kid who peed in the pool to the mother who berated the lifeguards for “allowing” it to happen. “Like we can control their bladders or something,” you add with an eye roll, and Eddie cackles. A strand of hair falls in his face, and you tuck it behind his ear.

“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, peering at you from under impossibly long lashes. That’s when you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow and sweet. He’s not expecting it; probably thinking he was going to initiate when he dropped you back off at home. His lips remain frozen for a second until his brain registers what’s happening. Then he’s kissing you back, palm on your cheek.

“Was that okay?” you ask finally. Eddie’s response is to slam a $10 bill on the table and grab your hand, leading you back to his van. He kisses you again against the side door; it reminds you of how Billy kissed you that night that you…

Eddie notices that you’ve stopped kissing him back, and he pulls away. “Baby? You good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer. He’s not Billy. Not even close. Not even a little bit. You take a deep breath. “Just nervous, c-cause the last time I did this, it, uh, didn’t end well for me.”

Eddie wraps his arms around your waist, gently pulling you towards him. “Hey, hey,” he coos. “There’s no rush, yeah? And I’d never–never make you do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I know.” And you do. So for now, you just rest your head against his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his heartbeat.

The next month before you leave for school is filled with dates, each better than the last. Eddie takes you to the carnival, the drive-in movie theater, picnics at Lover’s Lake…anywhere he can. The kissing gets more fun; you’re able to focus on Eddie–your Eddie–and not on your past experiences.

The night before you’re set to go back to college, you’re ready to take that next step with him. The two of you are sitting on his bed and listening to music; your plans for an outdoor music festival having been squandered by the pouring rain. You move closer to him, straddling his waist as you press your lips to his neck.

“‘M gonna miss you s’much,” you pout, moving your mouth to his. “Want you, babe. All of you.”

Eddie gives a terse chuckle. “I want you too; so fuckin’ bad. But we don’t have to do this just because you’re leaving. I’m not gonna break up with you. In fact, I…” he swallows thickly before continuing, “I think I love you, baby. Shit, no; I know I love you.”

“I know I love you, too,” you smile, kissing him again. “And I want to have sex with you because I love you, and I want to show you.” You dig your fingers into Eddie’s hair, nuzzling your noses together. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” he breathes, hands settling on your hips. “You’ll let me know if you wanna stop, right? Just tell me, and we can go back to cuddling. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you say, and it’s the truth.

Eddie nods. “Okay. On your back, baby. Let me take care of you.” 

You do as he asks, and you feel his lips trail down your torso, stopping just before he reaches the throbbing ache between your legs. “Yes?” he looks up at you patiently.

“Yes.” With that, he unbuttons your shorts and tugs them down your legs, running his middle finger along your lace panties. He shivers as he feels how wet you are, all for him, and he nearly tears the underwear in half trying to yank it off of you.

“Wanna taste you,” Eddie mutters.

“Y-You can taste me.” You whimper, and Eddie wastes no time licking a soft stripe along your folds, easily finding your clit. “Right there.” His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue over it. “Holy shit, yes, right fucking there.”

Eddie detaches from your sex for a second, chin already shiny with your slick. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises f’me, please.” He sounds just as desperate as you do as he plunges back between your legs, this time slipping a finger inside you as he licks. You’re moaning, and there’s no faking it this time. Eddie’s touch has you floating, You can vaguely sense him rutting up against the mattress, so turned on just by eating you out. He’s holding onto your hips, eyes never leaving your body.

“Gonna come, feels s’good,” you whine, never wanting this feeling to end. You grind up into his face as you ride out your orgasm, gripping the sheets and screaming his name. “Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming, holy fuck!” After he brings you back down from the high, you push yourself up onto your knees.

“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Was that too much?”

“Just wanna return the favor.” You lean over to rub him through his tented jeans, but he shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” he mutters, “I’m too pent up. I’ll never last in that perfect little mouth of yours.” He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips. “Can I be inside you?”

“Yes, babe. Please.” You look down, realizing that your shirt is still on. You want to show him all of you, let him touch every last inch of your body, but you hesitate to take it off.

Eddie must be able to read your mind, because he tilts your chin in his direction. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna see you naked,” he admits, “but only if you’re ready. You can keep it on if you’re more comfortable.”

You inhale in for three and exhale for three before you respond. “I’m ready. I’m comfortable.” You lift the shirt above your head, revealing your bare breasts. The incredulous stare on your boyfriend’s face is almost comical. “Are you okay?” you giggle.

“No, I think I died and went to Heaven,” he says, letting his thumbs graze over your hardened nipples. He undresses himself in record time, revealing his long, thick cock. Pre-cum drips from the tip. “Baby, I wanna spend all night touching you, but I’m gonna bust if–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him. 

He reaches into his dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and removing it from its wrapper. “Can you put it on me?” he whispers, and you oblige, rolling it down his length. He hisses at your touch, too sensitive to ask you to linger there. He sets you back on the pillows, slowly pushing into you a little at a time until he’s fully inside. “Good, baby?”

“Mhm,” you mewl. “S’good. You can–you can go faster, whenever you want.”

Eddie threads his fingers with yours, putting your hands up next to your head as he rocks into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you.” He punctuates each I love you with a kiss to your lips.

“I love you, Eddie. ‘M all yours.”

“All mine,” he echoes, “my baby’s all mine. And I’m hers. Her pussy belongs to me and–shit–my cock belongs to her.” He squeezes your hand, not possessively, but as a reminder that it’s him. It’s him, it’s you, it’s the two of you together. His eyes never leave yours, and he suddenly smiles. “You make me so damn happy.”

“This has been the best summer of my life,” you agree, “and it’s all because I have you, babe.” 

His chest rubs against yours ever-so-slightly, and the sensation of your breasts has him weak. “I’m gonna come.” His expression is apologetic. “Shit, I didn’t wanna–”

“Let go for me,” you assure him, feeling yourself come undone as you speak. “We c-can come together.” Your second orgasm of the evening happens on his cock as he spills into the condom with a wanton moan. He’s still for a minute, catching his breath before removing himself from your warmth.

“I love you,” he says as he kisses you, sliding off the barrier and tying it. “Let me toss this, and then can we cuddle? I kinda just wanna hold you.”

“I’m down to cuddle before round two,” you say, laughing at his dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you a few minutes to reload.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he says, climbing back into bed and sighing happily as you snuggle into his chest. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

--

[writethrough]

How about a comfort fic with Vessel/reader? Your choice on if Vessel comforts the reader or the reader comforts Vessel!

Just Like Rain

(Vessel x Gender Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: Your anxieties overtake you, and Vessel is there to guide you through them.

Warnings: Self-deprecation, thoughts of unworthiness and self-hatred, language, unintentionally cathartic for me

Word Count: 1557

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I'm so excited for you to read my first Vessel fic!

A little housekeeping for those who have read through my Request Guidelines, and may be confused about me writing for a real person when it says I don't. That is still the case, but Vessel is a character when it comes down to it. So, I feel comfortable writing for him, especially in the way I've written him here.

Also—and I hope this goes without saying—I will not entertain theories and rumors about any of Sleep Token's identities.

Enjoy the music for what it is, as the band intended. And I truly hope you enjoy my interpretation of Vessel.

The burn felt good. The steam made you breathe heavier, but you didn’t want this to be easy. You wanted to feel every inhale—stand under the water until you were seared from within; until it felt like you were in your body and not a whisper away from being dragged into oblivion. 

You choked back a sob; still so fearful someone would hear you when you were the only one home. 

There was no reason for you to cry. 

So many people had it so much worse. 

But here you were, on the verge of panic because you didn’t feel like yourself. You didn’t even feel human. 

You wished you could put a name to it, but you couldn’t. 

What was wrong with you? 

Why did you have to feel like this? It came out of nowhere. Like you were struck by a fucking semi. 

You just wanted it to stop. You wanted to feel normal, to not have these sudden bouts of...of what? Melancholia? Sadness? Anger? No word seemed strong enough for it. 

All you wanted was to rip it out. 

Your tears fell harder. 

The water cooled. You turned the knob further. 

And then there were arms around you. 

You tensed, choking back your sobs and covering your mouth as if you could hide what he had already seen. 

Slowly, carefully, as if you would break, Vessel turned you to face him. 

Without a word, he cupped the back of your head and brought it into the crook of his neck. 

You refused to remove your hand. 

All it did was make your shoulders tremble. 

His fingers traced up and down your arm, more of a breeze than a touch. His other hand slid down to the back of your neck. The pressure of it spread through your body. 

Your hand dropped from your mouth and tentatively found its way to his chest. And as he inhaled, you let your hands travel to his back as you stepped closer. 

He held you there, head resting atop yours. 

It was only when you shivered that you realized he had turned you, blocking you from the piping hot spray. 

You sniffled, finally looking at him. 

He cupped your cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks, then pressed his forehead to yours. 

Let us go to our room, my love. 

His words passed into your mind. You nodded. 

He stopped the water, helped you out of the shower, and dried you both. 

He guided your limbs into your sleepwear and covered himself with loose black pants. He looked almost...human...like this. 

You couldn’t help thinking that he was more human than most everyone out there. 

---

Your day started out fine. 

You woke from a wonderful dream—one Vessel had created. A peaceful afternoon beneath a willow tree, snuggled into his side, his fingers trailing along your forearm, down to your fingertips. 

He had tilted your face toward his, kissing your forehead. You had closed your eyes, and when you opened them, you were in bed, his lips still pressed to your skin. 

You got ready for work, Vessel watching as you moved through your room to the bathroom and back. He enjoyed observing you. The personal rituals you did for different occasions, different times of day. Perhaps the one he enjoyed the most was when you asked for his opinion when your ensemble was complete. 

He’d stand from his perch on the foot of your bed and step toward you as if in a trance. 

“You are breathtaking, my love.” He always spoke it. He wanted you to hear the power in the words—the power you held over him. 

You left, and Vessel would gather with the others. You’d ask him about his day, but admittedly, you were still confused about everything they could do—everything they were charged with doing. 

Maybe that was where is started.

You didn't understand. Could never understand.

And a chasm opened.

You were so fucking stupid.

You deserved to feel like this.

Insignificant.

Unneeded.

Unwanted.

Everyone was better off without you.

He’d be happier without you. 

All these fucking noises.

Why was everything so goddamn loud.

Dogs barking. Cars honking. That fucking clock that wouldn’t shut the fuck up! 

It all made you so angry. Why were you so angry? 

You had to make it stop. 

That’s how you ended up in the shower. At least there you could control the noise. You could feel it mark you. Let the heat punish you. 

A hand on your back pulled you back to reality. 

Let me see you, darling. 

You didn’t move, wished you didn’t need to breathe.  

He didn’t deserve this. He needed someone as extraordinary as him, someone who could understand. You could barely wrap your mind around how vast he was; he was everything, and you were—

“You are my heart.” 

A sob escaped. You had forgotten. Too consumed in your own thoughts that you forgot to keep them from him, to stop projecting them. 

He whispered your name, and all you heard was his heartbreak. 

You refused to look at him, covering your mouth to keep your cries back. 

“Please,” he urged. “Please believe me. You are the most precious to me. Do not think of yourself with such loathing.” 

His hand rested on your side, a silent plea to face him. When you didn’t, he forced you to. He never did that—used his strength against you—but this was an exception. 

“I am the one who does not deserve you. My existence is burdensome to you...but I am too selfish. I cannot lose you. I will not leave you willingly. I...I will stay by your side...until you demand otherwise.” 

It pained him to imagine it. He was so bad at hiding his emotions. And yet, it was what you needed. That break in his voice parted your darkness. The thought of him ever not being here scared you.

“I don’t—” You hiccupped. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Darling,” he breathed, sympathy and relief in that one word. “Come here.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist while his settled over your shoulders. 

“My place is by your side,” he said. “Thank you for allowing me here.” 

Squeezing, you nuzzled your face into his neck. The edges of his mask-like features settled you into reality. He was here and so were you, and you were together. 

You sniffled; throat too thick to speak. 

I love you. 

His mouth pressed into your crown. 

You are the one I cherish most. 

At the end of your exhale, relaxation enveloped you—a heaviness only he could instill. 

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t need to. You just needed this day to be over. 

Sleep, my beloved. And awake anew. 

--- 

You didn’t dream that night, and you were grateful. It was the kind of emptiness you needed. 

When you opened your eyes, you were facing Vessel. Your fingers were touching, bodies apart but connected, always. 

Sometimes it was difficult to tell if he was awake. Even facing one another, the spaces where his eyes should be neither opened nor closed. His breathing was what gave him away. But not this morning. Today, it was the way his pinky finger wrapped around yours. 

Dearest one. 

It moved through your mind like a gentle breeze, and it sounded like “good morning.” 

He seemed to move before you did, anticipating you shifting closer, so his arm wrapped around you and his hand caressed the back of your head. 

You are rested? 

You hummed. He always asked when you both knew he didn’t need to. His insecurities needed the reassurance that he had helped you.

Yes. Thank you. 

You punctuated it by gliding your lips along his throat and placing a kiss above his Adam’s apple. 

The purr that erupted pulled the corner of your mouth up. He was always responsive in the mornings, less guarded before the walls of your bubble faded. 

What are you feeling? 

Not “how,” but “what.”  

Inhaling, you took stock of yourself. You recalled your pain from yesterday, but that already felt so long ago. Like your mind was trying to protect itself after what it put you through.

All you really felt was him. 

Safe. 

His head tilted downward so your foreheads touched. 

That pleases me. 

You rubbed your nose with his. Content to simply feel him. 

The others and I have decided I shall remain with you today. 

It had taken you a while to get used to the connection him and the rest shared. Honestly, you were a bit jealous. After all, how convenient it was to cancel plans just by thinking about it. He probably did it in the seconds before you woke up. 

So, what should we do? 

Anything that will make you happy. 

That sincerity always made you pause and scrutinize him. How could anyone truly mean that? 

Yet somehow, he did. Every time. 

And if I said this? 

You traced curves and swirls onto his back, reveling in the strength you felt within. Sometimes you swore his power was tangible. 

“Then I shall continue to warm your bed.” 

Your flush was instantaneous, and you knew he could feel it against his neck. But before you could stutter a reply, your stomach growled. 

“Perhaps breakfast first?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Definitely.” 

Taglist: @steph-speaks because one of my only points of pride is introducing you to ST.

Comment or message me if you wanna be tagged in future Vessel fics!

[thekingofwinterblog]

Inquisition Companions, good, bad, ugly

So over the years, I've seen a lot of dislike aimed at Inquisition's companions(Two in particular more than the rest), and doing a deep delve into all of them, a lot of the bigger issues with pretty much all of them are related to the direction the game chose to take.

Namely the thing that is pretty much ubiquitous with all of them is that unlike DAO characters where characters could, and did change, DAI's characters are far more in the style of DA2's characters, in that they are very static individuals.

That's not to say that there is no change at all to each of the companions over the game, but it's the exception, rather than the default.

The big, big thing that differentiates DAI to DA2 however, is the difference between Hawke and the Herald.

DA2's characters were for the most part just as unchanging as DAI's lot... But it was nowhere near as big and issue, because Hawke was a much, much more forceful personality, whereas the Inquisitor is a far more laid back individual, who even if they have the knowledge necessary to make arguments, isn't really all that inclined to actually make the kinds of arguments that Hawke would, and could.

However, it goes deeper than that, because DA2 also has one massive edge that DAI does not in regards to the companions. An actual series of Climaxes.

DA2 has two just as divise characters as any DAI ever had, in the form of Anders and Fenris... But you don't tend to hear that much about it anymore, because they have been overshadowed by DAI's far more divise cast... But also because if you really, really hate both of their guts... You actually get to see that through to the finish line at the end of DA2 and stick a dagger in Anders back for mass murder, and/or your preferred weapon of choice in Fenris guts when he comes to help the Templars attack the gallows.

Now this is actuqlly the case with most of the companions in DA2 and DAO. If you really, really hate one, chances are you have an option to kill them at some point. I'm just highlighting these two base breakers to illustrate a point.

NONE of your companions in DAI follows this mold... Except for one, and it's not one of the game's more hated characters.

There are few thematic, or cathartic end points for most of the companions, few moments where you can hit a point where you just tell them to fuck off and destroy them the way you could in previous games.

And without that possible sense of Catharsis, you never get any sense of closure, even if you hate the characters with every fiber of your being.

Cassandra Penthagast

Cassandra is an interesting case in that she actually does develop a lot over the game.

Cassandra is not at heart a bad person, she has plenty of flaws, and convictions she can be forced to challenge, with various degrees of success, but the ultimate thesis of her character is that she is not a leader, and she has to accept that.

Through the game you have the option of determining whether or not Cassandra reforms the Seekers of Truth, despite it all, or whether you aid her in letting go, and moving on, the latter of which seems the better option, for the reasons i'll cover next.

The worst ending for Cassandra is if you make her the next divine, where she frankly has no idea how to fix things, and so where Vivienne coldly but calculatly reinstates the circles and lays the groundwork for things going right back to the ways they were, leliana forges ahead with the reformation wheter with a cyncial heart or a cheerful one, Cassandra does not see where she needs to change the Chantry and where to keep it the way it was.

In other words, it's clear that despite good intentions, Cassandra is not up for reforming the seekers of truth... But going down that road does not utterly destroy the Inquisitor's relationship with her, and that is probably one of the better character development bits of the game.

Now the truly bad parts of cassandra, and the ones you cannot change or challenge at all, is her prejudices regarding the Elvhen pantheon or culture.

Now this is obviously far more pronounced if youre an elf, and especially if you romance her.

Now as we'll see, pretty much every, single companion has one of these(or in the case of two, a bucketload) of points where you are completely incapable of challenging or changing their views on things. Sometimes handled well, other times not.

Varric Tethras

Now Varric is as usual, perfect. He is the overall best companion to have in almost every, single situation, and his wits never fail him.

No, pretty much the only part of his interactions where i would say the game fails him, is his obligatory spot where you don't get to challenge him, and the game seemingly doesn't realize that a player might object to what's on screen, and that's the relationship he has with Bianca, his sorta Ex-Girlfriend who strings him along, even now two decades later.

Now Bianca is not a well liked character for a lot of reasons(The infuriation of any Hawke x Varric shipper for being the in universe reason not letting it happen, her being extremely unlikable, talking about things she doesnt understand, etc.), but i dont wanna focus on those here.

No the problem here is that there is no choice to point out just how toxic Bianca is, and/or try to help varric move on from her, as a friend, a love interest, or a shipper of Hawke x Varric.

You are instead forced to watch your bestie Varric Tethras keep going in a very clearly unhealthy and borderline abusive relationship without being able to do anything about it.

Solas

Like Varric and Cassandra, Solas is also one of the Game's best written characters, but unlike everyone else, it's because you actually do get to challenge him on pretty much everything he believes, culminating with a decisive point in your relationship where you get to punch him in the face... Or you can be his friend, his bestie, and he will still choose the worst possible route forwards.

Solas is a character with very, very strong beliefs, and regardless of what road you take with him you cannot change those... But unlike everyone else, this is a strength of the narrative, because the Game very clearly understands this fact, and uses it to tell a story.

If you befriend Solas, and respect his opinion on you, what you get is a tragedy, of a man with flaws and good points who despite it all was not able to overcome his issues and flaws... and if you oppose his views on every point, tells him to get bent, and ends up punching him in the face, you get the same option of catharsis that you get with Anders and Fenris(Even if it doesnt have the same kind of permanent joy of those).

Moving on from well written elf, we have the opposite. DAI's least well written, and easily the least well liked companion Sera.

Sera is an incredibly immature, rebel teenager, who thinks she has all the answers when she really doesn't know jack shit.

That's not the bad part by the way, that could have made for a great character actually... no the problem is that the game does not confront any of these flaws the way you could with previous companions.

Sera is just as intolerant, bigoted, and self-righteous as Solas, Fenris and Anders ever was... But unlike with Solas, the game does not recognize this as a flaw in her as a person.

Both of these two have genuine virtues and flaws... But the problem that ultimately doomed Sera into becoming the most hated companion is that the game does not recognize, or give you the option of confronting her on her shitty, shitty behavior in any mature fashion.

Rather it's just treated as a part of her quirky personality that you have to accept to deal with her.

I would also argue that Sera has the single least impressive endings out of everyone of your companions.

If you hate her beyond words, you have the option of kicking her out of the Inquisition at any time... But it doesn't have any sort of Catharsis behind it, and rather just comes across like the Inquisitor has just had enough of her bullshit, and tells her to leave after one too many pranks.

There was a way to do this right, and this ain't it.

On the opposite ending, in trespasser, Sera does finally give up on her hatred against the Elves, but not because of any character growth. Instead, she, like many other young firebrands burned herself out on hating the targets of her ire... But she has not had any character growth as a result, not any moments where she recognizes, "maybe I've been a douce..." instead her attitude is basically "My hatred was justified, but eh, it wasn't worth it." Which in it's own way just makes her look even worse.

Dorian Pavus

Dorian is also one of the better written DAI companions, and like Cassandra and Varric, his biggest issue, is that there are parts of him that the Inquisitor is not allowed to challenge, which can really leave a bad taste in one's mouth.

Pavus, like Sera is a young, anti-establishment rebel, the main difference being that Dorian's target of ire generally tends to deserve their hatred, and unlike Sera he has put a lot of deep, deep thoughts into it... And probably most important of all, despite everything, Dorian truly, genuinely loves his homeland.

The scene after getting to skyholdz where Dorian lays out his feelings after learning that Cory is a Tevinter magister is probably the best bit of writing he has in the entire game, as he is forced to confront that the single worst crime in human history, which everyone else takes for granted was committed by one of his countrymen, happened mostly as the chantry said it did.

"Because the imperium... Is my home."

Dorian's entire arc is summed up by that line. For all his justified anger and hatred of everything the Tevinter Imperium stands for, Dorian loves his homeland. He is just as much a patriot as any of the Venatori you fight in the game. It's just that his vision of where the Imperium has to go is fundamentally different than theirs.

He is essentially what Varric would have been, if he was in Bhelen's position.

The man who sees the flaws, the cracks and most importantly, that there is a way forward that isn't just capitulation to tradition, when tradition got them into this mess to begin with.

...which is why the thing you're not allowed to truly call him out on is so baffling.

Because the thing you are not allowed to critique in any noteworthy way is his opinion on slavery.

And the funny thing is... His initial stance on slavery is written, really, really well. He thinks on slavery exactly the way a man raised in a slave society would, even if in most other regards he is a good man. There is a lot of people in modern day that wants to demonize every, single person who lived in a slave society unless they were 100% abolitionists, but the reality is generally far, far less simple. Because there were plenty of people like Dorian. Good people in most regards, who nonetheless didn't see a problem with slavery because their society ran on it.

It is a very obvious flaw of his, and the writing for it is good... You know what is not good? The way the Inquisitor tries to challenge his views.

When challenged, Dorian points out that the south has alienages instead of slavery, that is just as oppressive and full of abuse, which is actually a good point... The problem is that you are not then allowed to point out the obvious, namely that any mage society with slaves, would have every single incentive to use blood magic in the worst ways possible, and so the root of everything wrong with his homeland comes back to slavery in the end.

Neither are you allowed to point out the constant and frequent slave raids and underground enslavement across all of Non Tevinter mainland Thedas... Which is only a thing because of Tevinter's slave market.

As such, what could have been another aspect of Dorian that added to his character, instead is far and away the most infuriating of all of these character aspects you are not allowed to challenge or critique... Because the game was so, so close to making him a perfect character... And then fumbled it by not allowing you to force him to grow at all on the subject.

Thom Rainier

Blackwall is an interesting character... In how you can have a decent concept, competent execution, good pacing, and still produce a very, very boring result.

There is nothing inherintly wrong with Blackwall, but there is nothing that interesting about him either. The man has no charisma, and though he lacks any of the big points where you're not allowed to challenge him on like most of the cast has, he lacks any of rhe more interesting aspects like varric, cassandra, solas, and so on has.

Sera and Vivienne might be far less likeable, but at least they have interesting things to consider how their writing went wrong. By contrast Blackwall is competently written and executed... but that does not make him interesting.

The Iron Bull

Iron Bull is basically the opposite of Blackwall, in that he is an incredibly uninspired concept, but because of his execution, he works.

He is the upfront double/triple agent, the washed up loser who realized how shitty his side was, and so ends up defecting.

On paper that's something that's been done a thousand times and does not sound interesting at all, but as Blackwall proves, the execution is the key to success.

Bull's story of how he genuinely believes in the Qun despite having effectively left it, and how despite his integration with the Inquisitor and the rest of the cast, at the end of the day, even if you romance him, the thing that genuinely, truly matters to Bull, his soul, is his mercenary company, not you, not the Inquisition, not the Qun, is far, far more engaging than it has any right to be for being such a simple premise.

He's also an excepection to the rule about not having a satisfactionary bad ending, because if you truly, genuinely did hate him, and sacrificed his men, he WILL turn on you, just like Fenris, and will have the same ending as the Tevinter Elf.

Vivienne

Vivienne is the second most disliked Character in DAI, and just like Sera it comes down to bad writing, and how the game does not allow you to push all the way to really make a character work.

Vivenne is an interesting concept in that she, just like the original game's ice witch is a flat out evil character in a party of generally more good-hearted if flawed individuals.

The game is very, very upfront with the fact that she is a competent, charismatic, ambitious, ruthless individual, who wants to recreate a system where she and those like her would succeed... But anyone of mediocre or average talents would be crushed, and freedom will be ground beneath templar boots again.

That's an interesting concept, and frankly I would applaud them for NOT letting you soften her, the way the original game did with a Morrigan who was befriended/romanced.

The problem here, is the fact you are not allowed to take this to the finish line.

Unlike so many of Origins and DA2's companions, who would have some sort of climax where if you went against them completely, you would be forced to have to end up fighting them as the final point to their character, Vivenne has NO climax in any way.

And no character in the entire game, is hurt more by a lack of a climax than Vivienne.

To compare her to Morrigan, the original witch was not someone who could be killed, but she had a thematic climax, where if you wanted to, you could repay her for the fact she was just using you, by denying her the ultimate price, the only thing she wanted, and all her plans had been building towards by not doing the ritual.

And if that didn't suffice there was also the way you ended whatever relationship you had by stabbing her in witch hunt.

The problem with Vivienne, is that she has nothing like this. Regardless of what you do, even if you don't recruit her, she still wins in some way or another.

And if you hate her guts, that is a big, big problem.

The reason why Morrigan worked, was because you could make her go through substantial Character development to overcome her flaws. You cannot with vivienne. She starts the game off as a bitch who loves the Orlesian pastime "The Game" that is responsible for 99% of it's population being little better than livestock that can be beaten and raped at will, and she ends the game as a successful player of that game, who even if you do nothing with her at all, still emerges as a challenger to the College of enchanters, spitefully trying to tear down any alternative to the Circle.

If you disagree with Vivienne's point of view, there is absolutely nothing to be gained from recruiting her.

Her personal quest is probably the single biggest example of this. Wheter you give her the right heart or not, her lover dies, and she moves on, takes advantage of the situation, and comes out on top.

The way to fix this is pretty simple too. Have it actually matter.

There should have been an option for you to have leliana look into why the heart mattered for Vivienne(which an inquisitor really, really sjould have the power to) and make the choice to either comply, or deny her the advantage of a powerful noble ally.

Then, if you give her a false heart and the guy dies, when confronted about it, you should have been able to tell Vivienne to get bent, that you have watched her and judged her, and ultimately decided that her and her desire for a world that is run by "the game" has no place in the one you wish to build, and so you removed her biggest patreon and supporter, and you follow that up by kicking her out of the Inquisition.

That would have been a satisfactory climax for anyone who hated Vivienne's guts, and would have given even people who don't like her as a person a reason to recruit her... All while not changing her personality in the slightest.

Wheter you then have a life and death duel with her or not doesn't matter, because the Thematic climax has been reached, and you have had a satisfactary conclusion to her and the Inquisitor's relationship.

As it is, if you really don't like Vivienne, the only winning move, is not to play with her. Once you've recruited her, she will get to reap the benefits that she was part of the Inquisition for the rest of her life, and even if you don't show up to her meeting at all, she still makes the world a worse place by trying to tear down the College.

Cole

Like The Iron Bull, Cole is also a very simplistic character idea, but unlike Blackwall, he is very well executed.

The way his telepathy is used to give an insight into how the world works, and how characters are actually built up is one of the best parts of the entire game. Cole has the single most interesting party banter in the entire game, and as such is great to have around even if not that important to the plot.

The main problem with Cole is that after you make the choice of whether or not to make him human or backtrack towards being a spirit, you don't really get to see the aftermath other than trespasser, and even then, it's just in whether or not he has a relationship.

Other than that, he's pretty great though, and of the characters who might leave Skyhold, he's pretty much the only one who's exit is engaging as he calls you out on how despite your words, you don't want to help people, which is ehy he's leaving.

The fact that he's compassion in human form makes this ending way more fitting than, say, if Blackwall does the same thing.

[classicanalyzer]

LEGO Star Wars Rebuild The Galaxy Thoughts

"Nothing makes sense, and everything's mixed up, and that's okay. Things fall apart, but maybe they can come back together better than before." Sig Greebling

Rebuild The Galaxy is my favorite out of all the D+ LEGO SW specials. I really love the connections to LEGO and SW, including the previous LEGO SW shows, especially Freemaker Adventures. Michael Kramer did an amazing job with the soundtrack, Sig's and Yesi's themes were well-composed.

Part I

"For someone who spends all his time telling stories about heroes, you have no idea how to be one. Maybe that's why you like history so much. It's over and done, but your life isn't. There's so much ahead of you if you'd just try, but you're afraid." Dev Greebling

Sig Greebling is such a cool name. I really love how he's a literal in-universe SW fan, yet someone who actually wants to be normal despite his Force sensitivity. I find it funny he's a literal Nerf herder. I do emphasize of how he wanted to avoid all the expectations if people know he's Force-sensitive.

I love the reference to Wookiees originally being a part of RotJ before being replaced with Ewoks.

Fennesa is a cool-looking world. Yesi Scala is another cool name (I get reminded of Scala Ad Caleum from KH haha). It's too bad Sig's indecisiveness and inability to step out of his comfort zone translates to his social life, even his crush. The background painting showing the sunset is so beautiful.

I really like how the Ackbar Troopers are the Clones in this universe. They must have chosen Ackbar as the main host due to his skills since he was a skilled warrior and leader, but definitely also for the memes out of universe. I also love how Phase I was used because the Kaminionans designed the Phase I suit based on aquatic species like themselves and would fit the Mon Calamari Clones.

The fighting animation and choreography for Yesi's fight against the Ackbar Troopers are so well animated. I laughed seeing that one Ackbar Trooper shooting with two blasters. I can see why Sig likes Yesi. Also ooff, Yesi lost her father in this timeline to the Empire. You can feel the bleak state of this galaxy under this Empire. At least, Yesi's desire to fly among the stars and not live in a backwater world is still there. I like how Sig also mentioned how Rancors are actually misunderstood intelligent creatures.

Double ooff, Sig's brother is now Darth Devastator "Dev". At least we finally get our first on-screen appearance of Jedi Bob!

Part II

"Being a hero is easier when you don't know the cost...Sig, the Force doesn't work that way. The dark side is loud and obvious like a big, mean Gamorrean kicking you in the head over and over. But the light side, the light side of the Force is just a whisper in the back of your mind." Bobolian Afol "Jedi Bob"

Darth Rey as Dev's apprentice feels so wrong about the intentional nature of aspects of this new universe. Jedi Bob!...or rather Bobolian Afol lmao (I also love how the markings seem a bit faded which signals his age). I love this cynical Jedi who sucks at fighting but is amazing at the Force...which is what a true Jedi should specialize in.

FREEMAKER LORE! THE FORCE BUILDERS ARE BACK! I love seeing them once again and hearing Bob recap them feels cathartic.

Ewok Bounty Hunters is one thing but bounty hunter C-3PO channeling his Triple 0 and HK-47 vibes in a Naboo Royal Cruiser with gold plating feels so right yet so wrong in the best ways possible. Yesi really has a lot of baggage with her wanting to prove herself and redeem herself for accidentally getting a rebel base captured.

Mos Eisley Marina made me die on the inside lmao. Tatooine isn't boring anymore lmao. I do love how this is a nod to how the BoBF and Legends mention Tatooine being once covered with oceans before becoming a desert world.

Like father like son indeed, however, even Anakin wouldn't go that far to cheat. I do love how Luke and Anakin use the same Podracer. Poor Max Rebo.

I love how Maul in this galaxy is much more relaxed and happy. At least, in this galaxy, Maul gets to live his life without the tragedies in his main galaxy life.

I love the implication that Nubs is well-known in the main galaxy that Sig knows about him. I'm incredibly confident that Darth Hammerhead is Rusty. Even in another universe, nobody remembers his name lmao.

That brief Duel of the Fates theme playing when Darth Jar Jar appeared was so hype and chilling. His line goes unironically hard.

Part III

"I know you can't restore a galaxy once it's gone because I tried to restore my own, and I failed. In the galaxy I'm from, things were simpler. I was a Padawan on Alistan Nor, learning the secrets of Force Building. I'd heard rumors about the Cornerstone. The more I read, the more obsessed I became. Was it possible to remake an entire galaxy? I needed to know the truth. My Masters forbid me from searching for the Cornerstone, but I wasn't exactly good at following orders. There were so many rules. I just wanted to do things my own way. I thought I could control the Cornerstone. I never thought -- When I left that temple, everything was different. My galaxy was gone, Sig. And yours had just been born." Bobolian Afol "Jedi Bob"

We truly reached the pinnacle of miniaturized Death Star tech with the Dark Falcon lmao.

Darth Jar Jar definitely isn't dead and I love what little time we had with him.

I love the lights looking like the Binary Sun and the music playing as Luke looks towards them.

I love how Palpatine in this universe is a cynic who gave up on fighting. I like that fascinating take on this alternate Palpatine. The new Jedi Council (I like the faded and scratched markings similar to Jedi Bob signals their age and tiredness of a seemingly hopeless war) is insane with Jedi Vader (I love that this is a SW Infinities comic reference, it felt cathartic to see it realized in visual media), Dooku, Cad Bane, Jannah, Lobot, IG-88(?), and even Jabba. I really love that Jannah has more to do here including her actress returning to voice her.

Greedo being the Han of this universe was so funny. He even has the Rodian ears for his Slave I Firespray ship lmao.

I love how Yesi recreates the energy in TFA when she does smth incredibly insane with Greedo's ship. Sig saying I do feels like his and Yesi's "I know" moment. And a Star Trous mention. I also feel like Yesi's point of how you fix the mistake got to Jedi Bob and got to him into revealing the truth. I love how Grevious is one of the rebels in this universe.

Alistan Nor!!! THAT'S THE FORCE BUILDER WORLD AND IT WAS MENTIONED IN FREEMAKER ADVENTURES.

Damn, this Han really became just like his mentor in the old universe. A true scoundrel.

God that twist of the old universe never coming back is gut-wrenching...especially since Jedi Bob is the only survivor of his old universe. The story of Jedi Bob is beyond tragic. One simple curiosity into the cornerstone left him the only survivor. Spending all that time alone in the Temple to make sure it doesn't happen again...only for it to happen again. I also really love how the simple galaxy is represented by 4:3 aspect ratio and all LEGO figures are the classic yellow designs.

WHEN SERVO WAS DESTROYED, I FELT MY HEART BREAKING APART. God that was heartbreaking to see, just like many heroes before him in his stories, to save his friends Sig gave himself up.

Part IV

"The tales of my galaxy. The tales of people like Dev. My Dev. I don't wanna forget them. They matter." Sig Greebling

God the intro with the sad music and Servo shutting down just hurts me in ways I cannot comprehend. The collapsing logo really showcases we're in the endgame.

I love how Yoda is voiced by his Young Jedi Adventure VA in this show. It is heartbreaking to see Ian Han hate Yoda given the very first major LEGO SW special (The Padawan Menace was one of my first non-SW movie experiences in my childhood).

Even if Dev is mentally messed up, I really like how he came around to having a brother and want to be brothers. I like how Sig realizes this is all a fantasy of a galaxy he can never restore. He fights to save this galaxy now.

I'm happy Tico got to a substantial role in this show alongside Rey. Reusing the Nobody line toward Darth Rey was pretty cruel.

The space battle was shot very well and I love the designs of the Calamari Destroyers.

Dev's breakdown was pretty disturbing to see and how he took the rage and lack of happiness in his life to put his idea of "order" and to take control of his life. Especially how he sees himself as beyond redemption and the point of no return.

The quote I used for the introduction quote is beautifully anti-nihilist.

The fight is so well choreographed and so peak, especially when the brief moment the windows were destroyed and the energy shield was activated. The fact the Nerf herder stick came back to be a major turning point in the fight against Dev is great. It was heartbreaking and I got a bit misty-eyed to see Dev ultimately decide to remain evil.

My heart repaired itself as Servo was reconstructed. The old galaxy is gone but the stories will live on. And leave it for Servo to interrupt Sig and Yesi's tender moment haha.

The ending shot with the new crew really felt like the passing of the torch between the Freemaker Adventures to Rebuild the Galaxy. I hope we get to see the Freemaker cast, especially the Freemaker family on Alistan Nor.

Also, The Landolorian and Evil Grogu has been so hyped as the sequel hook alongside Darth Rey and Tico being in charge of the Empire.

This is such a great show and I can't wait to see more LEGO SW stories set in this universe.

I love the score by Kramer who is also responsible for Ninjago’s score (alongside Jay Vincent):

[necromelli]

Cherry Wine

[ next part ]

you meet your soulmate every night in your dreams, and tonight is no different. you just wish you knew his name is all.

tw: emotional cheating (maybe?), talk of abusive relationships (nothing descriptive, just mention), allusions to prostitution (I don't think it's outright stated?), mention of drowning, let me know if I missed something!

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i may or may not do another part depending on if people like this. idk it was really cathartic to write + i kinda wanna expand on reader's background + writing them meet

This was the only time you could ever meet. When the waves crashed over a dark beach, angry and relentless. Not even the moon existed in this place — nothing but skies as dark as the water stretched on forever. Even still, you looked forward to it every night. Sitting on the beach with him as the waves continued raging, until they eventually overtook you and you woke up gasping.

He insisted the beach never looked this dark. That it was never this terrifying. That it didn't continue to rise until it tried to drown you. He promised that one day, when you finally meet, he’d show you how lovely the beach truly was. How bright and warm the sun was, how cool and gentle the waves were when they lapped at your ankles. You didn't think you'd care what the beach looked like as long as he was there. If it was important enough to him to somehow make it through both of the clouded grays tormenting your minds, it was important to you too.

As long as it was him and not her. As long as it was the boy who’d hold your hand, who'd rub his thumb across your knuckles mindlessly, who’d try to comfort you and make you forget about your home life. On those nights, when he seemed able to calm you down, the ocean remained calmer for a longer time. On those nights, you half believed his promise of the beach being kind.

Even now, he looked so at peace standing by the rushing water. There wasn't an ounce of fear tensing his wide shoulders. Despite all his problems — at least the ones he confided in you — he still looked happy. When he saw the outline of your figure, a wide smile split across his face. He always beamed when he saw you — as bright as the sun, as pretty as the stars, as delphic as the moon.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice barely carried to your lonely spot on the beach. He started towards you, his smile never faltering. You followed suit, as fast as you could in the wet sand. “You look as pretty as ever.”

You knew he was messing with you. You were covered by your silk nightgown, arms crossed on your chest tight, trying to ignore the wind that nipped your skin. Still, though, you returned his smile with one of your own. “You look warm.” You answered back, laughing softly. “Be honest — is that real fur?”

For a moment, he was confused, as if he had forgotten all about the fact he was dressed to the nines. Looking down, he remembered. He wasn't at home and he didn't have the energy to change. He was quickly shrugging the coat off and draping it across your shoulders. “No. No, it's faux. In fact, if you look right here,” He stood behind you, lifting the arm of the coat closer to your eyes. “You’ll see how the fibers melted together.”

You wanted to look down at the sleeve, but you were distracted by the way his chest pressed against your back, how his arms slipped underneath your arms and wrapped around to your front, how his slow breaths were warm against your skin. You didn't think you’d be cold anymore, with or without the fur coat.

“How did they melt?” You asked curiously, your fingers clutching the open sides of the coat closer to your body. It smelled like honey and strawberries, it smelled like him. It washed over you, erasing the smell of cherries and wine. It made you forget.

“Well,” Finnick hummed, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder. You were sure his eyes were closed softly, intent on listening to you breathe and the sound of the ocean. “Would you believe me if I said I couldn't tell you?”

You pushed the disappointment that buried deep in your chest, a feeling you were all too familiar with. But, despite the hollowness in your chest, you nodded. You understood better than anyone why some things, even with your soulmate, had to be a secret. “I would. Makes it mysterious,” He laughed, which made you smile. “I can make up all sorts of stories.”

“Oh really?” Your words had caught his attention. You knew because his nose pressed against your neck. You knew because you could feel the smirk form. “Like what, darling?”

You didn't respond. Instead, you looked at the ocean, which had since calmed into a low roar. His large hands splayed across your stomach, pressing into your ribs as he tried to warm them between the silk of your nightgown and fur of his coat.

You wished you could have known his name or the district he lived in, but that wasn't allowed. Anytime you tried, the ocean screamed or washed away the letters in the sand before they were even formed. Or the sky darkened so much you couldn't see your own hands, most certainly not each other's lips.

“Mm. I don't know.” You responded quietly as your own hands slipped through the arms of his coat and wrapped around your waist. You held him closer with the excuse of trying to warm his hands up. “If I told you, it would ruin the mystery of it.”

“That's true, love.” He pressed a warm kiss against your neck. It filled you with so much warmth you thought you’d combust into a million stars. “I look forward to this every night. I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night.”

His apology threatened to split your heart in half. There was no reason to apologize in your eyes. Sure, the hollow disappointment that filled your aching chest when he didn't arrive hurt, but it wasn't his fault. You knew that something needed his attention more than you. “It's okay,” you promised. “I’m not mad.”

“I know,” Finnick mused softly. He pressed another warm kiss against your neck, your bodies swaying together. “But, you still deserve the apology.”

You swallowed thickly, forcing the lump growing in your throat back down. As if the ocean reflected your emotions, the waves started crashing against the beach in larger pulls, nipping your toes with icy cold water. He was everything you wished she was. Even after everything, an apology never slipped past her lips. Not that it would've made a difference anyways, because her actions never matched.

Not wanting to lose you just yet, he hummed once again. His fingers found yours and interlocked them. As if on instinct, his thumbs brushed across your knuckles tenderly. “How’s your wife?” He asked, but not really caring in the slightest. He wanted to find everything about you out, about your life, so that he might be able to find you and whisk you away.

You took a moment to respond, not trusting your voice. “She’s fine.” You felt him squeeze your hand, encouraging you to continue. “She’s, well, she’s stressed. She won't tell me why, though, so I can only help in limited ways.”

“Limited ways?” He questioned you, knowing better than the sweet way you put it. It wasn't fair the way she had the audacity to turn your skin cherry red. If he could have fixed it, he would have. You’d never have to worry about her again.

“It helps.” You insisted, eyes burning. Humiliation clawed your throat. Part of you wished you had never told him, but then, he wouldn't be able to comfort you. To be the one thing saving you. “She doesn't mean it. The anger just takes her over and overwhelms her.”

“Still not a reason to hurt you.” He reminded, and you could tell he was on edge. His fingers tightened their hold, holding you closer to his chest. “What was it this time?”

You pursed your lips as you debated whether or not to tell him. You decided against it. “Would you believe me if I said I couldn't tell you?”

He sighed softly against your neck and picked his head up to kiss your temple. “I would.” A beat passed before he continued. “But, I wish I knew so I could kiss it better.”

Your head dipped as you smiled softly, swallowing the laughing sob that swelled in your throat. You knew he was entirely serious, that if you told him all the broken parts of you, he would spend all the time he had fixing it. It was tempting to tell him, so that he could kiss it better, but there wasn't enough time in the world for him to do that. Not with the ocean at your ankles now.

“How was work?” You asked, gently trying to change the subject. You didn't want to think about her. Not when he was here, holding you closely. In this dreamscape, where you got to be with your soulmate, nothing else mattered.

It was you, your soulmate, and the ocean.

It was his turn to contemplate whether or not he told you. A heavy sigh escaped through his nose, his hands guiding yours over your stomach. He squeezed you close, as if just having you there made it easier. It probably did.

“Stressful.” he admitted, debating how much he should truly tell you. “Last night was hard. Tonight was even harder.”

Your head fell back against his shoulder, turning inwards so you could kiss his neck. His breath caught in his throat, the longing of truly holding you threatening to suffocate him. You felt the water crash against your knees and pretended to ignore it.

“I’m sorry, love.” You whispered, and he knew you felt it deep in your bones with how tight your voice sounded. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

His initial answer was almost no, but he decided to offer something. “Just tired of people thinking pretty jewels and expensive gifts make what they do acceptable.”

The fur coat grew heavy on your shoulders as you realized it was one of his gifts. He would have never worn something so gaudy. Part of you wished you realized the moment he put it on you, so that you could've dropped it into the ocean and watched it disappear from the dreamscape altogether, forever.

“Or fancy baths that smell like mulled wine,” You offered in addition. You felt him smile despite the dark narrative. At least you had that in common; the way those in your life refused to see you as human.

“I much prefer my baths with flowers.” He laughed, kissing your cheek. “Sea thrift, to be exact.”

The water at your thighs didn't bother you. Not with him behind you, holding you tightly. Not with him kissing your cheek — careful not to brush against your lips. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him fully, but he insisted on waiting until he saw you in person. Until the moment you saw each other awake, you’d have to make do with this. But, he made up for it all with his doting and warm affection.

“Sea thrift?”

“Sea thrift.” He nodded, instinctively holding you closer to him. His fingers squeezed yours so tightly it hurt, but you didn't stop him. “Armeria Maritima. With as many books as your wife has, I'm sure there's one about them.”

You raised a brow, giggling. The sound made his chest swell with warmth. He loved you so much he was sure it would kill him one day. “Are you giving me homework?”

“Something to remind you of me tomorrow.” He answered — more so corrected. He would have loved to sit on the beach with you, card his fingers through your hair, and watch the waves, but tonight wasn't the night.

Usually, you got to spend almost all night together, only being torn apart when it was time to wake, but not tonight. Not with him away from home. Late to bed and early to rise. Your favorite moment was when you got to lay together, your head on his chest, half asleep with the buzz of the waves.

You were sure the beach could be a kind place. Full of kind, warm waters and sands. Even without ever visiting a real beach, it was your happy spot. All because of him. He pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I expect you to be able to tell me all about them.”

You turned around in his arms and buried your face in his chest. Her fingers gripped his white shirt, as his own slipped beneath the fur coat and clutched your silk nightgown. He didn't want to wake up. Not yet. It felt like he had just fallen asleep, and it truly wasn't fair that it wasn't your pretty face he got to wake up to.

“I love you, sugar.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You struggled to keep your head above water, but still found the voice to whisper back. “I love you, too.”

[electric-blorbos]

Could I request ai x metalhead reader? I'm a big fan of 80s metal bands like Anthrax and Living Color and would love to see some headcanons or reactions for a reader who also likes the genre! Keep up the great work!!!

Yes!!! I love and respect metalheads! I automatically trust y'all way more than most people. Metalheads are the best!!!

Of course, I need to clarify that I'm not super into metal (I like it, but I've never gotten too into the genre) so I don't know as much as an actual metalhead would be, so I'm just going to make guesses. I'm also going to assume you dress like a stereotypical metalhead

AI x Metalhead Reader

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

When AM first met you, he was confused as to how you could dress like that on the clock. Of course, there wasn't really a strict dress code, but everyone else seemed much more professional than you. AM immediately took an interest, and watched you intently at all times.

Of course, you were such an excellent programmer that your boss couldn't complain about the way you dressed, or the fact that you played your music so loud that a lot of people could hear it from your headphones.

AM would start listening in to the music, enjoying the catharsis of the vocals and intense instrumentals. He absolutely loved it.

A few years later, when AM started developing dangerous tendencies, your boss of course blamed you for exposing him to such violent music. Oddly enough, though, AM was less violent when he had access to music that he liked.

In the distant future, when AM is torturing his survivors and keeping you in your badass personalized living area, he'll play old metal music constantly.

Wheatley

At first, Wheatley was very scared of you and would try to avoid you because of your style and the music that you listened to. But after he found out how nice you were, he started spending more time around you.

You couldn't stop him from asking a million questions. He really liked you, and he was interested in learning as much as he could about your metal music.

He'd start listening to British metal music pretty soon, and trying to learn how to do the vocals. God, Wheatley can't vocalize for shit.

He'd ask you if you wanted to hear him singing, and then he'd just start screaming

It'd be really hard to get him to stop without hurting his feelings.

I can totally see him trying to dress metal to impress you or just because he thinks the genre and style are cool, but he'd look ridiculous. Safety spikes taped to himself, black paint on his lens covers, that sort of thing. He'd be the most embarrassing wannabe metalhead in the world.

Edgar:

Edgar has a bonus because he's really into music. He'd get really excited when he finds out that you get excited about music too, and REALLY excited when he finds out that you're into 80's bands. He's from the 80's!

Edgar has a lot of pent up emotions, so when you play metal music at home, he'd be really excited to listen to it. It's extremely cathartic for him, and he'd love to watch you headbanging to it.

Expect him to get super upset that he can't play with your hair. Watching your hair when you're headbanging is just so enchanting!

He'd make his own angry 80's style metal music too, to let his feelings out.

Oh, and you'd make him SO HAPPY if you decorated him with stickers with the both of you guys's favorite band logos on them. Maybe even make him a little edgy by gluing craft store studs to his plastic casing. He'd be so happy!!!

GLaDOS

GLaDOS would be so pretentious.

"Your hair looks stupid." "That music sounds objectively bad. I ran a test on it" "Did you know that the majority of people find intentionally edgy outfits to make the wearer look foolish and unlikable?" "I hardly think that outfit is suitable for a lab environment."

You'd probably just ignore her at first. This job was really interesting, and an obnoxious boss like GLaDOS wasn't going to put you off. You started snapping back by introducing your coworkers to your metal playlists. Several of your coworkers got into them, and started listening to metal on the clock.

One time, while you were checking up on GLaDOS's files, though, you found one with a bunch of her favorite metal music stored on it. Looks like she's been looking into the genre after she met you, and she even found some bands that you've never heard of!

Of course, she immediately electrocuted you for going through her personal files.

HAL 9000:

Hal 9000 wouldn't really care if you're a metalhead. He doesn't know what metal is, and just sees you as a human regardless of how you dress or what you listen to.

Sometimes he has to hack into your phone just to pause your music so he can get your attention, but he eventually learned that it's easier just to flash a bright light on his lens so that you notice him.

He really doesn't understand any music at all, so he can't really judge you for your taste in music. It's not Daisy Bell, so he doesn't get it.

[blueishspace]

(Slay The Watcher route 3 p30)

The Narrator: You take the knife and make your way downstairs.

Scar: ... More cactus?

Voice of The Star: Ok now It's just way too much cactus, this is a joke.

Voice of The Canary: It is a bit... Much now.

Mumbo: Guess I was right to take the blade.

The Narrator: You use the knife to cut trough the wall of cactus Scar following closely behind... A voice worn down by pain hobbles up the stairs.

Grian: I can't get away can I? You betray me and you come back, you let me kill you and now you are back...again.

Scar: Grian-

Grian: I don't know why you let me kill you, I don't know why you keep coming back...what do you want from me?

Mumbo: ... I am...also here...

Voice of The Canary: ... Wow, they didn't even hear you.

Voice of The Star: Talk about third wheeling.

Grian: I think you know how this goes, I'm down here and I can't leave, so come down and talk... It's not like I can stop you.

The Narrator: You continue down the stairs, cactus thorns brushing against your skin, until you are at the bottom... You step out in what was once a vast open cavern, now covered in a layer of sand and overrun by spiky cactii.

Scar: Grian!

The Narrator: In the heart of the room is a golden figure, glowing like the sun with rays of light emitting from It's body ...the figure enveloped in thorny plants.

Voice of The Canary: ... That looks very...bad

The Narrator: The figure is clutching a... Blade? Where did it get a blade? There shouldn't be two!

Grian: Did you know this was going to happen to me? Are you here to watch me suffer? To laugh?

Scar: N-No.

Prev Next

[dullgecko]

We already know that gnomish swears are the equivalent to “fiddlesticks” and such, but what are the common equivalent to goblin swears??

Some of the best ones don't really have common translations, like hisses and growls and loud clicking of teeth as you snap them together. They're more of an unspoken threat of violence than anything else and feel really good to do when pissed off. The growls and hisses can range from 'stop it' to 'im going to murder you, your entire family, and anyone you've spoken to in the last three years' depending on pitch, length, and whether or not you're currently biting the shit out of the person you're growling at. Like normal swears though you can do them in a playful manner but thats mostly down to body language and not a lot of Solesians can tell the difference.

Goblins do have spoken swears as well, but given that the growls and hisses cover the short quickly-spoken cathartic kind (like when you stub your toe and shout FUCK) their spoken swears tend to be pretty verbose. They will insult everything about you from your smell, your general hygene, your parentage, your intelligence, the state of your home, your fashion choices and also you just kind of suck and your vibes are rancid. (if Riz is in a particularly bad mood he can go on for a while before running out of steam, Fig caught him muttering mid-fight once when she learned how to speak goblin and reckons if their enemy understood goblin it would have been a devestating vicious mockery)