#Brittany Peer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Text

Time For Toys and Time For Cheer - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with the El to my Max, @munson-blurbs

Summary: When Brittany’s Christmas presents for the boys come in, it’s evident that “it’s the thought that counts” doesn’t apply.

Note: Jingle bells, Brittany smells, please enjoy this fic today!

Warnings: mild violence, Eddie being a perv, Brittany being Brittany

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”

Eddie lets the scissors drop down onto his mattress as you peer into the box he just opened. Seeing Brittany’s name on a box when you picked up the mail for your boyfriend was enough to irk you for the rest of the day—especially since Eddie wouldn’t open it until after the kids were in bed because it’s probably their Christmas gifts. The silver lining though, was that you saw Brittany is going by her maiden name again. You hope to God she changed it legally; she doesn’t deserve to be a Munson.

The box did contain gifts for the boys but as you look inside you see what pissed your boyfriend off. You reach in and pick up a box of Legos that were made for a kid half Ryan’s age. The Blue’s Clues coloring book that Eddie takes out is just as insulting. Should she get credit for knowing Ryan likes Legos and Luke likes coloring books? Not in your opinion. Not when she lived with them for most of their lives. Not when she gave birth to them and should know how old they are and that these presents are not age appropriate.

“Is this really a bunch of Lego kids on a bus? Oh look, they’re soccer players on a bus.” You scoff and roll your eyes as you set the gift back in the box it was shipped in. “Yeah, ‘cause Ryan loves sports so much.” Eddie’s eldest was in agreement with his father that sports are stupid. You think his mother would’ve known that. Then again, his mother is Brittany.

“He’d put that together in less than five minutes,” Eddie says, nodding towards the Lego set. He sets the coloring books back inside as well and pulls out a small white paper that got stuck to the bottom of the box. “Looks like they’re from Wal-Mart. Nice of her to send a gift receipt. Almost as if she knew her presents were shit.”

Any irritation you feel for Brittany doesn’t come close to the love you have for Luke and Ryan, and you’d do everything in your power to make sure they have a wonderful Christmas.

“Think Wayne will watch them for a few hours after dinner one night?” you ask, eyes scanning over the gift receipt before meeting Eddie’s deep brown ones.

“If we buy him a mug, he might watch them for the whole weekend.” Eddie puts the gift receipt back in the box and closes it. He looks over at you and an adoring grin grows on his face. “I fucking love you, babe.” He takes your face in his hands and presses a wet, smacking kiss to your forehead.

Eddie falls a little bit deeper in love with you every time you do something for the boys without any hesitation. And since it’s a frequent occurrence, it’s safe to say that he’s head-over-heels for you.

A few nights later, Eddie brings the car to a stop in front of his uncle’s trailer. He puts it in park and looks over his shoulder at his sons in the backseat. Ryan doesn’t seem bothered one bit that he’s being dropped off at his grandfather’s. Luke, on the other hand, looks like you and Eddie just told him he’ll never be able to eat another cookie again in his life.

When Eddie’s eyes meet Luke’s blue ones, the little boy groans and drops his head back against his seat, curls smooshing around his head like a halo.

“Why can’t we go with you?” he whines.

“Luke,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “You hate clothes shopping for yourself. Let alone anyone else.”

“Yeah,” you say as you turn to face him as well. “And I can take forever in dressing rooms. I can never decide what I like better.”

“Plus,” Eddie adds with a smirk, knowing a foolproof way to get the boys out of the car, “you really wanna come with us and watch us kiss the whole night?”

The moment Eddie leans in towards you, both boys groan and Ryan slaps his hand over his eyes. Checkmate.

Luke is quick to scramble out of the car, his older brother right behind him.

“Go!” Luke practically shouts. “Take your time! Make sure you get a nice dress.”

“Yeah,” Ryan adds. “Has to look nice for your work party.”

It’s hard for both you and Eddie to keep a lid on your laughter while the boys are all but pushing your car down the road to get you away from them.

“Be good,” Eddie calls out the open window.

“Yeah, yeah…” Luke mumbles as he trudges up the front steps of the trailer. Ryan follows behind him and gives you and Eddie a wave before they head inside the house.

The moment they’re inside, Eddie turns to you and raises his eyebrows.

“Can we buy you a new dress?” he asks.

“Why?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ll want me to buy a sexy one, then not want me to wear it out anywhere and let people see me in it.”

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbles as he puts the car in drive.

“Maybe after we return the baby-fied toys that are in the trunk and get the new ones, we can look at some lingerie, though?” you tease.

“Deal.”

The Wal-Mart parking lot is a madhouse; Eddie circles it three times before finally snagging a spot all the way at the back. He scoops the presents from the trunk and the two of you make a beeline for the return counter, with you holding onto his jacket sleeve to avoid losing him in the crowd.

“Okay,” Eddie says, once you’ve secured the gift card that contains the store credit. He looks at you with sheer determination. “We gotta divide and conquer. You shop for Ryan, and I’ll shop for Luke.”

You make your way to the Lego aisle; Brittany had the right idea, but the wrong execution. After perusing the shelves for something more age-appropriate, your gaze lands on a kit to build a Statue of Liberty replica.

Just as you grab it, you feel someone tugging on the other side. “Um, sorry, I’m taking this one,” you try to explain, willing your voice not to waver as it often does during confrontation.

The man who’d reached for it as well scowls at you. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He yanks it from your grasp triumphantly. There’s a nasty sneer on his face as he looks down his nose at you. He’s around Eddie’s height, bald as a cue ball, and has a beer belly that’s larger than most pregnant women’s bumps.

“Hey! What the hell’s your problem?” The words slip from your mouth before you can stop them.

The man smirks menacingly. “What’re you even doing in this aisle? The Easy Bake Ovens are down that way.”

When he points to his left and lets his guard down, you seize the opportunity to pull the Lego set from him.

“What d’you think you’re doing, bitch?” He reaches out a meaty hand to snatch it back, but he’s jerked back by his collar.

“You calling my wife a ‘bitch’?” Eddie growls, eyes blazing with fury. You can’t remember the last time you saw him this angry. He shoves the man, now wide-eyed and fearful, into a display of Tonka trucks, which catches the attention of a security guard.

He marches over to the men, waving his hands and shouting. “Hey, break it up!” The guard pulls Eddie away from the man. “You two,” he looks between Eddie and the guy, “get outta here!”

Eddie sputters. “Wha—no, he called my wife a bitch!” he tries to protest, but the guard just pushes him toward the exit. “This is bullshit!”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but feel butterflies at the way he said, “my wife.” It has a much better ring to it than just, “my girlfriend” or even “my fiancée.”

Your awestruck demeanor vanishes as you stare at the back of Eddie’s head in disbelief while the security guard leads him away. You’re left hanging in limbo, unsure if you should follow him out or buy the toy—he is going through a lot of trouble for it, and you’d hate for his efforts to be for naught.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. “You know what Luke likes, baby,” he calls out.

You can only nod as you hold onto the Lego box for Ryan.

“Meet you in the car,” Eddie says before turning back around, wincing when the guard shoves him out the door.

It’s hard to shake off the fact that Eddie just got kicked out of the store and proceed to shop as though nothing has happened, but you know you need to find something for Luke. Something that isn’t made for a preschool demographic.

“Okay, Legos for Ryan. Luke still likes coloring books. Just not Winnie the Pooh ones.” Brittany was at least on the right track with her gifts for the boys—just a good number of years behind.

The coloring books are a few aisles over and you chew on your bottom lip as you check out the collection. There are lots of Disney ones full of princesses and mice, but Luke only really enjoys the movies made by The Mouse, not any toys or games.

Scooby Doo catches your eye and as soon as you pick that one up, you see a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles book.

“Hmm…” you hum, but then chuckle to yourself. Of course he gets more than one.

You cradle those two books in your arm with the Lego set and also grab Pokémon and a monster truck one.

You’re welcome, Brittany, you think. You sent three but now he’s going to think you sent him four. None of this is for Brittany’s sake—both you and Eddie know that. The boys would be the ones disappointed, not their mother. There will come a day when they recognize her absence and carelessness, but you don’t want to help point it out; you just want to show them love and support.

On the way to the register, you do a double take when you see a mostly empty shelf of wrapping paper. Brittany didn’t bother to wrap the presents before she sent them, but that’s something else the kids don’t need to know.

Making sure to get a paper that’s very different from any of the ones back at the apartment, you add a Frosty the Snowman roll to the pile in your arms. This way, they’ll differentiate these from the presents left by Santa.

Most of the registers are crowded, which makes you huff, but you’ve had your share of fighting for the evening. Instead, you wait silently until the woman behind you in line starts speaking to you. “Last minute shopping for your kids, too?” she says with a laugh.

You nod. “Yeah, it’s been quite the adventure,” you offer, not wanting to relay the near-WWE match that occurred in the toy section.

“I’ll bet,” she chuckles, hoisting a toy Batmobile. “Boys or girls?”

The question catches you off-guard for a moment. “Boys. Two of them.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t imagine having two sons. I have one, and he’s a menace.”

You smile. “Yeah, but they’re my menaces.”

On Christmas morning you’re not entirely sure what’s up first: the sun or the boys. Eddie looks like a zombie as the two of you initially follow the boys out to the living room. Once they see the tree and the mountain of presents scattered about, their joy and excitement are almost as good as a cup of coffee in waking you and your boyfriend up.

Heaps of wrapping paper pile up as they tear open their gifts: action figures and Hot Wheels for Luke, books and science kits for Ryan, and a handful of VHS tapes for them to share.

Once the heap of presents begins to dwindle down to the last handful, Eddie stands up.

“Don’t wanna forget the gifts from Mom.”

The boys instinctively glance at you before they realize that their dad is referring to Brittany.

Eddie hands them the carefully wrapped packages, assessing their expressions to gauge their excitement.

“No way, this is the Lego set I wanted!” Ryan cheers, beaming at the toy.

Luke is equally impressed with his gift. “Yes! New coloring books!” He stands up and does a little happy dance that looks very reminiscent of something you’d see one of The Peanuts characters doing.

Eddie smiles, knowing all the bullshit of dealing with Brittany, in the past, present, or future, is worth it to keep his boys happy.

“You guys wanna call Mom and thank her?” Eddie asks.

They nod, racing each other to the phone so they can get back to playing as soon as possible. There’s a part of you—a petty part—that hopes their phone call wakes Brittany up from a peaceful sleep. Just because you play nice for the kids doesn’t mean you can’t have small moments of joy at the thought of that woman being inconvenienced.

“Your kids are crazy,” Eddie says to you, plopping back onto the couch and flinging his arm over your shoulder. “You should really rein them in.”

You give an exaggerated sigh and shake your head. “I’ve tried, but their father is even worse. Just enables the insanity.”

Eddie laughs, kissing your cheek before tilting your chin towards him so he can press his lips to yours.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #older!eddie #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

439 notes · View notes

graphicpolicy · 8 months ago

Text

EC Comics' Epitaphs From the Abyss #1 kicks off some classic horror

EC Comics' Epitaphs From the Abyss #1 kicks off some classic horror #comics #comicbooks #ncbd

From the publisher that drove Tales from the Crypt, Vault of Horror, Haunt of Fear, and many more into the depraved hearts of an unsuspecting world, the immortal EC Comics returns! Epitaphs From the Abyss #1 kicks off the first ALL-NEW series in nearly 70 years! But, in this age of gore-porn and brutal, scary, horror, does the classic still deliver chills and thrills? It’s a whole new era of…

#brian azzarello #Brittany Peer #chris condon #comic books #Comics #dan jackson #featured #j. holtham #jorge fornes #marissa louise #michelle madsen #oni press #peter krause #phil hester #richard starkings #stephanie phillips #travis hymel #tyler smith #vlad legostaev

0 notes

dannyphantom-zero · 1 year ago

Text

Danny Phantom Prompt: Danny, Sam and Tucker are in Gotham for a trip of some sort and Sam decided to test Danny's ability.

The three teens sat cross legged on the wide flat roof of the bakery not far from the hotel they were staying in. It was around ten and darker than you could imagine but at least there was street light near the bakery so they weren't completely blind.

"the gym coach hasn't hassled me for a while, I'm a lot more fit now that I've had Brittany by my side" Tucker said whipping out his newest PDA and kissing it.

"Fully equipped with sensor's. It counts my steps" he said excitedly.

Sam snorted, "yeah, well at least somebody has been keeping up with their physical training" she gave a pointed jab in Danny's direction.

"ah. That is SO unfair. I do too keep up with my physical training" he countered.

"oh yeah, then prove it."

Meanwhile, Nightwing was out on patrol in this specific area.

When he heard some chatting from a roof up ahead.

"how?" Danny asked.

"parkour" Sam answered passing a glance around the rooftop.

Danny sighed.

"Fine"

He stood up and threw Sam a glared before walking backwards towards the edge of the building.

Nightwing squinted and his breath hitched. That kid was walking backwards! And he was WAY to close to the edge of that roof.

Danny smiled to himself before doong a high backflip. His feet landed sturdy on the other roof.

Sams mouth was agap.

"wtf Danny!" She exclaimed.

He laughed at her expression.

"your the one who said you wanted proof" he hollered back.

"proof about what?!" Nightwing exclaimed still not okay with the fact that this kid almost plummeted to his third story death.

Danny jumped, startled, tripping over his own feet and actually falling off the roof.

He landed with a hard thud in the concrete.

"oh shit!" Nightwing exclaimed. Tucker and Sam calmly peered over the edge and grinned simultaneously.

Danny was holding a thumbs up as he stood up and brush off the dirt from his jeans.

"I'm okay!"

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #fanfiction #phandom #Nightwing #PhantomAntics #shananagins

171 notes · View notes

receivedhope · 19 days ago

Text

Kurt and Burt's relationship

This is a very long post and is only really the first half (third?) of my unnecessarily thorough analysis of the Hummels' relationship. I figured I would not post the 5k+ words I have already written so far in one go either, so I might as well post it in smaller pieces when I finish them. This is still stupid long. The Read More is there to protect you if you are not interested. ♡

One of the most underrated aspects about Glee, in my opinion, is the almost entirely implied and subtle character arc of Burt. It can get as implied and subtle as to people outright calling Kurt ungrateful/undeserving of his father - which I think is a very strange opinion.

There are multiple aspects to their odd dynamic but I think the two most defining ones that serve the best as a baseline to establish are Kurt's resemblance to his mother and Burt's past homophobia.

I like to think that Burt is kind of at the root of most of Kurt's attachment issues and proneness of emotional miscommunication, both having been a continuous challenge for him all throughout the show, so I really wanted to put my finger on why he struggled with it so spectacularly.

For one, while it is not explicitly canon, I think it is a very fair guess: Kurt never really had any peers he was close with, like a sibling or any kid his age. There is not much we see/learn of how Kurt was as a child, but we do know that his mom enrolled him in ballet classes from age three (the same age he asked for a pair of sensible heels) and even despite kids and their parents alike making fun of him for it, he liked it (Lights Out), that he was willing to compromise with Burt and in exchange for learning how to ride a bike, Burt had a tea party with him (Grilled Cheesus - liberal interpretation of the sequence, but I really think it makes sense with everything we know of Kurt and Burt) and that after Kurt's mother's death, Kurt took up most of his mom's chores as well as grew apart from Burt pre-canon and they only start connecting with each other again after Preggers.

Based on everything we know from canon, I think it makes the most sense for Kurt’s character if Burt was his only close relationship for years - which is not ideal.

I could not really put my finger on it for a long while, but I think I just find it more tragic than anything that despite Burt hoping for Kurt to become more masculine with some time (like how he forbids Kurt from wearing form fitting sweaters that stop at the knee and even takes away his car after he finds his tiara collection) he either did not mind or had no bandwidth to properly address Kurt seemingly taking care of most household chores - a traditionally feminine task.* In 2009, Kurt immediately thinks Burt only calls him over to tell him to start on dinner.

*This is where I would want to be clear that only because I refer to taking care of the household as a traditionally feminine task, it does not mean I agree with it - not in the slightest.

Kurt was always set up to be a very feminine character. I personally always appreciated his loud gender nonconformity about him, like his clothes or mannerisms and it also easily fit into my head why every time we get a glimpse into the Hummel household in canon, Kurt fills in any role that decidedly is not an average teenage boy's. We see him dance to Single Ladies in his room, teaching Burt how to cook and bake in the kitchen, taking care of Burt after his heart attack in the living room. The one time Kurt is doing what he's "supposed" to, bringing a girl to his room to make out with, it is treated as an oddity by Burt. (And also note that even this more common and general experience the average teen boy would share with Kurt is not at all usual either, with french music playing and candles lit, letting Brittany take charge.)

For Burt to want a more masculine son like Finn to have dumb boy fun with, is a bit hypocritical after pushing Kurt into this almost mother-role, or at the very least, an eldest daughter's.

There are also more “blink and you’ll miss it" indicators of Burt having tried to shepherd Kurt onto a more heterosexual path, like Kurt recounting his Power Rangers marrying and divorcing in so many combinations in Furt or how he always wanted a Pretty Princess Styling Head in PUC. Based on just these two, entirely unrelated scenes and his defining gender nonconformity, I think it is very safe to say Kurt had very similar play patterns to girls his age, preferring to focus on interpersonal drama and crafting/sewing accompanying pieces to immerse himself better in the story. I don’t want to make a bunch of sweeping generalizations, since the concept of boy and girl play patterns and styles are not as binary as they may sound (even the studies and research done on the subject say as much.) Anecdotal, but out of my sister and brother, I was leaning the most towards preferring girl play styles and I’m also the only one gay out of the three of us, so. I know it first hand it does not necessarily mean anything.

But there has to be something said about the socialization of girls and being encouraged to mimic, play and if you see the world as a really bleak place, train for the role of a caregiver, which is why toys aimed at girls include mini kitchenettes, realistic baby dolls that can cry, sometimes even mini cleaning supplies and so on. But the thing is, don’t those sound like something a five year old Kurt would be naturally interested in? He enjoys cooking and baking and he wants a family - a part of the conclusion to his story in the show is getting married and having a daughter.

What’s more, do you think the residents of the same town that made fun of a three year old Kurt attending ballet class, would take that kindly to a boy expressing those likes while his classmates are rough-housing or playing with cars? Would his father be able to treat it as well and outstandingly accepting as some of you like to imply, for someone who has had to level with Finn and admit he absolutely did call gay people, or people he thought were deserving of it, a faggot? Would he really?

And when you watch that scene in Furt, don’t you get some half thought about “huh, actually why didn’t Kurt have Barbies to do that with or something?” and then in PUC, “huh, why did he never get some styling doll head before?” And once you have these thoughts, you may also think, but wait, Kurt is sixteen at the start of the show and his wide array of wacky niche gay clothes (such as a corset he can wear to second period) and collections (like tiaras to keep in his hope chest) have to at the very least be financially supplied by someone. Which prompts the question: are sensible heels just a more appropriate gift than styling heads? And for the closest thing to an answer we may need to look at the events of Wheels.

This is the episode where we start seeing Burt having to confront what it is like for Kurt in a town like this. Burt instinctively and without question goes out of his way to threaten McKinley with a lawsuit so that Kurt can sing the solo he wants - it shows he actually, without the external pressure to conform, does not think it is a bad thing that Kurt wants to sing a woman's part. I always found that kind of interesting, because it is not even due to Burt being so unfamiliar with the theater world to not understand the implication, since Kurt very explicitly tells him why if he were to sing Defying Gravity it would be controversial. But Burt sort of does not see it? He just sees the song for what it is, a song. It is not until he gets the phone call where he realizes the homophobia directed at Kurt is not necessarily even about being gay, but about daring to stick out.

And as a side note, I count Burt telling Kurt about the phone call as a lower moment of his.

I always figured Burt’s past homophobia came from a similar place as Finn’s, where he personally did not see anything wrong with being gay or gay people but was also susceptible enough to peer pressure that he just never questioned it and took it as a part of life that is just how it is. Until Kurt, of course.

So based on the above, I see Burt’s and Kurt’s pre-canon like this:

Kurt has always been a more feminine boy, something his mother actually cherished about him, possibly even bonded over with. Burt does not see it as an issue - he loves his wife and his son, why would he? - but still wants to encourage Kurt to try out more boyish activities with him they could bond over, too and when possible, tries to direct his attention to the boy counterpart of the things he likes (Power Rangers over Barbies, riding bikes over tea parties) but he is not aggressive about it by any means. He does see how Kurt is treated about his interests though and wants to protect him from ridicule, as would any parent.

After Kurt’s mother’s death, Burt cannot settle it even within himself if he would prefer Kurt to be more masculine (joining the football team and having a girlfriend) so that he is not so singled out by society, with Burt getting to ease his subconsciously learned homophobia as well, or having Kurt stick with who he is not only because it makes him happy, but because it also preserves his wife’s memory better, down to such small, domestic details as following her recipes for dinners. (Which is more of a headcanon of mine but I don’t think it is that outlandish to consider.)

And the parentification affects Kurt a lot! He is a known control freak, of course he is, he was responsible for so many aspects of the household from such a young age, anyone would feel out of balance if suddenly their area of influence was drastically cut. It’s also easy to imagine Kurt having been predispositioned to it as well, the he possibly was a fussy child, particular about details (which is still present when he does things like arranging the swatches of subtle shades of whites and grays on his wall in Home) who then wants to take care of his grieving dad. In Glee, Actually it’s confirmed Burt was wrecked by grief to the point of forgetting entirely about Christmas, so I’d think he similarly couldn’t take care of a lot of other responsibilities he had for a time either.

His mother’s death also has Kurt confront the randomized nature of life so early on, with barely any parental support or safety net - remember, Burt is also grieving, moreover Kurt and Burt seem to live pretty secluded from any extended family. Be it distance, grief or Kurt’s homosexuality, or anything else or the combination of, the fact remains that Kurt only has his grieving dad at such formative years.

It makes sense that Kurt defaults to obsessively curating his surroundings and wanting to keep everything reined in under stress. He goes through sticky noting all of his stuff in Dance With Somebody when he and Blaine are in an argument, he develops a slight OCD in Wonder-ful in preparation for Burt’s cancer check-up, the latter example showing he feels responsible for events entirely out of his control and has to cope by thinking his inconsequential actions are actually important.

And Burt is actually feeding into Kurt’s control issues more than he is aware of. He is a very indulgent and doting father, always aiming to meet at least halfway with him based on how Kurt is not afraid of any repercussions in Acafellas, clearly still wearing his sweaters despite Burt bribing him with an expensive car. Kurt is pretty unfazed by Burt taking said car away at the end of the episode as well, after he found his tiara collection. This is the calmness of a boy who knows his softie father will break in a few days and return everything back to him after a few well placed whines and sad, pleading looks - an expression Kurt is prone to making when he wants something from others (really, once you notice it you will always see it).

And I personally would also see it the most Burt thing ever if he was always hand waving this tendency of his away to fold and do whatever for Kurt with “It’s just annoying when he starts whining.”

Not taking Burt that seriously is not even a sign of rebelliousness either, because at school, even Will can scare him into obedience (in Funk, Kurt runs back to his seat after Will shouts that the boys sit down.)

Even when they have arguments, like in Home, Duets and BIOTA, Burt seems to be careful of making sure he doesn’t upset Kurt as much as he can. In Home, he leaves immediately when Kurt asks him to, despite clearly having more to say about the topic of Finn and “ideal sons.” In Duets and BIOTA, Burt seems to have waited to bring up the topic of Kurt’s crush on Finn and Blaine staying the night until there seemed to be an opportunity for him to do so. Which really makes me wonder: how long ago did he and Carole talk about Finn? Because I’d imagine it happened the same day or the day after The Lamp Incident in Theatricality, considering Burt loosely threatened to kick Finn out. I’d imagine Carole would want to smooth things over as soon as possible. Now the timeline may be messy, but Glee’s first season ends at regionals, presumably around March, so I’d figure Theatricality should be set around February or March as well. Duets is probably set in September, at the very latest in early October. That’s a staggering six months at least, give or take a few, for Burt to sit on this information. Why does he bring it up now? Because he thinks Kurt is about to run into something stupid again headfirst that will end up hurting him. Burt is pretty nonchalant about the whole deal until it turns out Sam’s team is “undetermined” - and remember, Kurt is a delusional romantic. In his world, “undetermined” can also mean “has a girlfriend but I am in love with him.”

The timeline of BIOTA is a bit muddy - there are several time skips and outfit changes that don’t lend themselves easily after each other chronologically. Rachel’s party is on Saturday night and then Mercedes confirms the next daytime scene we see is on Monday so the scene where Burt finds Blaine in Kurt’s bed is Sunday morning. Kurt only goes to help clean up with Rachel after he’s had his argument with Blaine in the Lima Bean (where they are both in Dalton uniforms, so this should take place on Monday as well) and he’s also in his own clothes this time, so he most likely went home first to change out of the uniform. He wears the same outfit when he is making soufflé with Burt as he did when he helped clean up, however there is a loose Will plot taking place between those scenes with him getting drunk with Beiste on that night and having a hangover on Tuesday. Logically, you’d assume the Burt and Kurt baking scene takes place on Tuesday then, however Rachel most likely has her sober kiss with Blaine as soon as possible after her talk with Kurt, which would also be Tuesday.

I promise this is worth to mention, for two reasons:

One, Burt yet again waits for an opportunity to present itself when he can bring up a parental concern. Even if them baking happens on Monday night (which is probably the most intended read) that is still more than 24 hours between their argument and Sunday morning. Still a better time than half a year I suppose.

For two, and kind of loosely related I guess, if you interpret these scenes following each other as they took place in the episode, Kurt would be depressed enough to wear the same outfit for two days consecutively (on Monday when he helps Rachel and on Tuesday when he and Burt bake). I think that’s just really cute and for that reason alone we should assume he and Blaine have their argument on Monday and Rachel kisses Blaine on Wednesday. (And Kurt and Blaine spent all of Tuesday with ruffled feathers, possibly having a super uncomfortable Warblers practice too. The possibilities this presents are endless.)

And as I typed that all out and was proud of myself enough to whack together a pretty solid timeline, my fellow Kurt thinker and Klaine philosopher has pointed out Sue makes her announcement on Thursday, as she specifically says it’s been two days since she got Will’s voicemail. So Rachel could’ve kissed Blaine on Thursday or even Friday, but I just don’t see why she would wait that long – you know what, nevermind. Let’s just move on, I’m sure you don’t care about glee math and logistics this much.

The argument in BIOTA resembles the one in Duets - Hummel arguments seem to have a pretty set script: Kurt vents about something that happened to him recently and in response, Burt brings up some concern he has been mulling over for a while now (I personally think it’s because he doesn’t want to ruin Kurt’s good mood and would rather wait until Kurt is already peeved so he doesn’t feel as guilty for ruining the very few and far between good days Kurt has, possibly?) and Kurt, someone who has understandably internalized Burt’s past homophobic tendencies (and is already on high alert about it because that is nine out of ten times the root of all criticism he gets), projects his own insecurities about himself to be the core issues Burt has with him, too. Since that is never the case, Burt sees through him and tells him he doesn’t want him to hit on Sam or have Blaine in his bed because he cares about him and wants him to be safe above all.

Kurt receives a lot of criticism for “always deflecting by calling people homophobic” but… it’s very understandable? First of all, Kurt’s story includes a lot of bullying. He seems to be singled out even among other glee clubbers as early on as in the first scene of Showmance, where we already see how positively glee influenced all of their lives already. Will has a newfound confidence in himself, Rachel is excited to get things moving in glee club and even has Finn sort of already flirting with her by helping her with her backpack. Mercedes, Tina and Artie arrive at school together while having fun and goofing off.

Meanwhile Kurt is getting thrown into a dumpster (just as he was pre-glee in the Pilot) and no one cares or notices.

To pretend that Kurt’s effeminacy and later, him being out has nothing to do with his isolation and intense bullying is willfully obtuse and pretending that him being scarred by this is “outlandishly selfish” could almost be counted as a sign of low empathy in my opinion.

It bears repeating that we don’t see much of Kurt’s pre-canon, but based on his hesitancy to come out, as well as him thinking in 2009 “I’m gay, dad. Please don’t stop loving me, but I’m gay” and needing the high of a winning football match in Preggers to actually come out, I don’t think Burt was that down with the gay. I think it is most in line with Burt’s character if he just tolerated homophobia around him (since this is Lima and he does run an auto repair shop) and while he never thought much of it, Kurt always noticed these moments where someone would say something demeaning of gay people and Burt would keep quiet. Those non-reactions are very hard to gauge a meaning out of.

Even Burt himself says, “I guess I’m not totally in love with the idea” and then also asks if Kurt is sure as he leaves.

I understand that I’ve seemingly gone pretty hard in Kurt being such a doted on daddy’s boy, but there is also something to be said about how even though he is not particularly afraid of consequences, he is pretty secretive. While I can’t say that I’ve seen the floor plan of the Hummel house (god I wish, though) Kurt having the basement as his own room also tells something about this dynamic - he is content to stay in his own little bubble, away from Burt and does not necessarily want to share everything with his dad. It’s not entirely clear if Kurt keeps parts of his collections hidden (like the tiaras he kept in his hope chest) out of fear of ridicule or if he is just that reserved. You could really make a case for either or the combination of both, but it remains to be said that Kurt is simply not that open with Burt.

The point is, Kurt never received that much of an unconditional support and love from everyone around him for being gay to not be at least a little justified in always assuming that is the main issue people have with him they skirt around for.

However when it comes to Burt, The Lamp Scene of Theatricality is almost this unspoken arc’s conclusion - he is willing to kick out the “ideal quarterback son to have dumb boy fun with” to stand up for Kurt.

#kurt hummel #burt hummel #long post. Very long!#mymeta

41 notes · View notes

comicwaren · 10 months ago

Text

From X-Men: The Wedding Special Vol. 2 #001

“Something Borrowed, Something Blue”, by Kieron Gillen (W), Rachael Stott and Michael Bartolo (A)

“Wedding Gatecrashers”, by Tini Howard (W), Phillip Sevy and KJ Díaz (A)

“Get Mystique... a Gift!”, by Tate Brombal (W), Emilio Pilliu and Irma Kniivila (A)

“Épée Is Truth”, by Yoon Ha Lee (W) and Stephen Byrne (A)

“The Thief’s Surprise”, by Wyatt Kennedy (W), Jenn St-Onge and Brittany Peer (A)

68 notes · View notes

scapegoated-if · 2 months ago

Note

hi, i've been loving the scapegoated playlist! are there any songs/bands (on the playlist or in general) that fit your idea of voyeurs' sound specifically?

Heya! I'm glad you're listening to it and I'm glad you like it! I made it in the hopes of contextualising the story better for those who aren't familiar with the sounds of the time, but I also made it as a literal soundtrack for the story. A lot of the songs I match to scenes and just imagine as theme-tunes. If this was a show, California Dreamin' by The Mamas & The Papas would play during the opening credits of each episode.

The sound of the band I try not specify or overwrite with my own perspective. I wanted to leave as much room as possible for you guys to decide what they sound like. But I'll give you the specifics of my view and what I generally imagine when I'm writing! I'll add brackets of songs I recommend listening to as examples.

In terms of the vocal styles of the band members:

For Leon, his voice resembles the likes of Jaco Pastorius (Come On, Come Over), Eric Clapton (Bell Bottom Blues) and Brittany Howard (This Feeling, Alabama Shakes). It's powerful, gritty and funky with a lot of soul.

For Vince, I would say he is a stronger vocalist than Leon. Leon's centralised talent is in his writing, while Vince vocally just has it. He's a tenor: the two main tenors he resembles are Ray LaMontagne (Hold You in My Arms) and Jeff Buckley (Everybody Here Wants You). I think his singing style, when he isn't pushing his vocal range and adding his usual spritzes of vibrato, can bare a likeness to that of Chet Baker's (Time After Time). Van Morrison (Sweet Thing) comes to mind also.

I think Leon's voice isn't anything wildly different from what you would hear during that time, very mature and guttural at times, while Vince has a youthful lightness and a soulfulness that is softer than Leon's and definitely would stand out amongst his peers for someone in the general rock genre. Their vocal styles would blend extremely well--just a sensational musical chemistry.

But in general, Voyeurs' music is all over the place; it doesn't try to be any one thing. Musicians that vaguely remind me of what Voyeurs would sound like are: Pink Floyd; CAN; Alabama Shakes; Karen Dalton; T. Rex; the song The Calvary Cross by Richard & Linda Thompson stands out to me, also.

I can make a playlist if that's easier--specific character ones if that helps and a general Voyeurs one or something more miscellaneous. Just shoot me an ask in my inbox! I hope this was legitimately helpful!

Stay groovy!

#inbox #leon rivers #vincent buscemi #general

20 notes · View notes

heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago

Text

Black Paint; Vessel (Sleep Token)

a/n: i am so fucking proud of this and i hope you absolutely love it. pls don't anyone tell brittany or else i'll fucking kms. thx.

description: brittany broski and friends go see sleep token. the group's energy catches the attention of the band.

warnings: alcohol, smut, cringe wattpad y/n moment.

“Hey, guys, welcome back to the Broski report. I’m your host, Brittany Broski.”

She rambled the words out breathlessly, smile void on her face. I stifled a laugh from the seat beside her, especially as I knew the camera frame would then focus on me.

She slammed her palms down onto the table, peering over at me with a blank expression, “Bitch.”

“I know,” I shrugged. My lips were pursed together, shoulders shaking as small giggles forced their way out of my nose.

“Bitch!” She tilted her head from the microphone so as not to disturb the sound mix.

I pressed a hand to my lips, dying of laughter now. “I know!”

“Listen,” she pointed at the screen behind us, “there is no fucking time for introductions because this bitch…just ruined my life by introducing me to yet another GROUP masked men I will not and can not have!”

“I know,” I nodded solemnly, still giggling. “I’m so sorry for what I have done to you.”

“Sleep Token,” Brittany yelled. I flinched from the volume, eliciting a soft, “Oh!”

“Sleep Token, guys,” she repeated. “Listen…before we even begin, we have a disclaimer for you horny sluts.”

I licked my lip as I silenced my laughter, looking seriously to the camera. “We do not condone the search for the identity of this band. Let them exist peacefully. If you know who they are, and you comment it on either of our platforms, anywhere, you will be blocked. Be respectful, shut the fuck up, and keep the mystery alive, kay?”

“Kay. Moving on! Sleep Token!”

It was my first time being on Brittany’s podcast. I was honored to have been asked, considering she didn’t often have anyone join her. But, considering I’d introduced her to the band I was currently hyper-fixating on, she needed me to provide my personal testimony. We spent most of the video appreciating their music, pointing out our favorite drum parts, lyrics, and Vessel vocals. Of course, we thirsted over the band, too. Why wouldn’t we have? They were hot as fuck and we were just girls.

And, of course, the video blew up. Her podcast segments normally did, but this one reached new numbers even she could not have predicted. At one point, trending on TikTok was a video of me saying, “I would literally let this man do dirty, nasty, terrible things to me that my mom would disown me for. Things only bitches did in that fucking town of Sodom and Gamora. God would literally come down and rain hellfire over my apartment after I got done with that man.”

I wasn’t necessarily embarrassed by the videos that came out after my clip went viral, but it was a little silly. I just hoped the band didn’t have secret accounts that they stalked fans on. I would never want to know that- but Ijust hoped and prayed it wasn’t sure.

Soon after we posted the video, the band announced a new leg of a North American tour.

And, of course, we spent a shit load of money to get tickets.

The months drug on before it was finally time for the concert.

“Shot?”

Brittany held out the glass vial towards me, a knowing smile- brows raised, round eyes suggestive- egging me on. Not that I needed it- tonight was the perfect night to get trashed. Of course, with Brittany, that was most night’s. When we had filmed for the podcast? Oh, we were smashed.

“Duh, bitch.”

I took it from her hold, wrapped my forearm around hers, and shared a low cheer before taking the shot. Our other friend Sarah Baska, was ordering herself something at the bar. Meanwhile, the liquid burned the back of my throat, sliding down my chest in it’s fiery path. A natural lightweight, I felt warm immediately. It was also just really hot in here.

I then ordered some mixed drink. Sarah got more, harder liquor, as per usual. And, Brittany did another handful of shots for the road. After, we headed for the stairs, giggly and anticipatory. We spent extra money on a private box, both to shake our asses in a spacious area, and to be able to enjoy the concert without being bothered by fans the entire time. It was nice getting photos with them and meeting people who looked up to all of us. But, tonight, it would be nice to just exist as normal people at a normal concert. Besides, we were all here for Sleep Token. I wanted them to get all the worship that they deserved.

Not that this was a normal concert. This was, in any devoted fan’s words, a night of worship to the god of Sleep. This was a ritual. Tonight, I would be shaking my ass extra hard for the little dancing vessel’s on that stage who were so fucking attractive, I could drool.

We found our seats quickly. I was grateful for the space away from the thick, sweaty crowds- it was hot in here, even though I was wearing next to nothing. I really didn’t want my makeup- done heavier than normal thanks to Britt- to run. I did, however, hope that Vessel’s paint would smear a little extra from this heat. That was hot.

We sat down in our seats for a few minutes, gushing about finally being at this ritual. I sipped at my drink, finishing it faster than I thought possible. I tended to drink heavier when my pulse rate was this high. My chest was really warm now, and I enjoyed it. It loosened me up quite a bit. I wasn’t really introverted, but I had anxiety when it came to these situations. Liquid courage was always nice to have.

I shed my jacket on the back of my chair, exposing my midriff and bare arms. It cooled me down a bit. Brittany was rambling on about Vessel and some video she’d saw on TikTok the night before. I went to reply to her, to ask to see the video, when a staff member interrupted us, “Excuse me, ladies-”

We looked up him expectantly. His voice was quiet against the loud chatter of the crowd and the pre-show playlist thumping through the speakers. I leaned in close to him and strained to hear his next words.

“These seats have food and drink service. Would you like anything?” He graciously held out a menu.

We nodded enthusiastically and ordered another round of shots and cocktails. Just as he returned with the tray of drinks, after we occupied ourselves by watching a handful of videos on Brittany’s phone, the lights dimmed for the opener. I tipped the server as I joined the crowd, on my feet, hooting and hollering. We quickly down our shots.

The opener was pretty good. Brittany, Sarah, and I danced along to the songs, clapped when gestured to, and took a few embarrassing pictures for us to regret in the morning. I liked to spin in circles as I danced, rotating my hips to the beat. I made a stank face while doing so, drink raised to the sky like an offering. Brittany and Sarah would hype me up, pretending to swipe stacks of cash over me like rain, leaning into my momentum with hollers. The more I moved, the more the alcohol took over. I was completely lost in the music.

When the opener took a bow, Brittany, Sarah, and I screamed, loudly. Loud enough that the opener noticed us. They waved up to our seats. I jumped up and down, splashing my drink over the railing, on the floor below. I waved wildly. The opener then blew a kiss and I nearly melted. I felt like a little girl at a One Direction concert. It was awesome.

As the crew began tearing down the openers set, and putting together Sleep Token’s, more music streamed through the speakers. The server scurried off to get us more drinks.

Because the opener had noticed us- twice- a few people in the crowd turned to look up at our seats. Now that the overhead lights were back on in the venue, a bunch of fans started calling out our names, waving excitedly. As they did, I Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing and the energy in the venue lifted completely.

I set my drink down in my cup holder, needing both hands to go absolutely feral over the song choice. As the first verse began, I grabbed Brittany’s fingers in my clutch, serenading her through viscous screams. I swayed from foot to foot, hitting each beat with my hips. As Miss Houston sang, “My lonely heart calls…” I grabbed the railing from behind me, leaned myself over it, back arched and head upside down, towards the crowd. Everyone freaked out at the stupid move I did. I was sure to see clips of it in the morning.

Then, the chorus started, and we jumped around like raging lunatics. We clapped our way through the song, entertaining the crowd like we were the real show. Eventually, the crew seemed to be finishing up their work onstage. The music started to fade, the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up with bright blue. I picked my drink back up, screeching my head off as the music started.

I swear to god that the band could hear us screaming from our side of the venue, jumping around like children, holding onto each other like we just might fall over. We were louder than, probably, the rest of the crowd. They started with Chokehold, which made me nearly lose my sanity. Vessel strutted out onto the stage like a literal god, rings shining in the light, blackened skin already slick with sweat. I bounced up and down to every beat, waving my hands with the crowd, spinning in circles, downing my drink like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t focus too much on how good he looked, caught up in the music. But, god, did I know he looked insane.

At one point, Brittany and Sarah turned their phone flash on. They switched between that and taking videos on their phones, giving me all the spotlight. They made it like I was the fucking main character of the concert. And, I loved every second of it.

At one point, the bassist noticed our flashing lights and mini dance circle. He pointed up at us, nodding his head in appreciation. I screamed my head off in response, gripping the railing and whipping my hair. He raised his hands like he had to defend himself from my energy and slunk off to the other side of the stage. Brittany pointed the camera in my face, “How do you feel?!”

“I’m shitting my pants right now!”

The concert went by quickly, too quickly. IV interacted with us a bunch, too, especially after he’d scream his lyrics and we’d go wild. Vessel, unfortunately, avoided our side of the stage. He was so lost in the music which was, honestly, amazing to witness. His silly dances combined with his insane vocals made for a great show.

By the time The Offering started up, Brittany, Sarah, and I were absolutely trashed. I wasn’t too far gone because I was started to sweat out what was in my system. Yet, I was nowhere near sober. Anyways, maybe it was because we were being obnoxious and loud due to our drunken states- Vessel finally noticed us. It was at the beginning of the song, when he sang, “Take a bite…’ It came out like an animalistic growl, chilling the audience.

He pointed his hands towards our balcony, though I’d like to think he was really just pointing at me, and whispered the sultry lyric. I melted to the ground, head thrown back as I yelled. Brittany grabbed my bicep to ensure I wouldn’t fall any further. She and Sarah hoisted me back up. We cackled into each other’s shoulders annoyingly. Then, as the drums picked up, we began moving with the rhythm again.

Before we knew it, the concert was over. Vessel raised his hands in a bow. Then, he looked around the crowd, found our seats again, and shot us a small smile. I took the opportunity to blow him a kiss, enthusiastically throwing it through the air towards him. He grinned in response, looking to his feet as he shook his head, before slinking backstage.

I plopped back down into my seat, already cracking open a water bottle. My chest heaved for air. I didn’t even know how to process anything that had happened. All I knew was, “I need to eat so many fries right now,” I breathed out, sweat slicking my skin. I sipped the water slowly. I could feel myself sobering up more and more. I was a little more conscious, but so damn hungry.

Sarah was talking to some people next to us who she knew. Brittany sat beside me. “Vessel literally wants you,” she said, nonchalantly, like she had read it in that morning’s paper. “Like…holy fuck.”

I cracked a smile and wiped a bead of sweat off of my brow. I checked my reflection in my phone. Luckily, my makeup had stayed intact. I replied with a silly tone, “Don’t even get me excited like that. It’s rude.”

“No, cause, he kept looking up here after The Offering,” Brittany said in a matter of fact manner, again.

“Really?” I sat up in my seat, “No way! I must have been dancing too hard to notice.”

“Oh, you were shaking your ass,” she snickered with a grin.

“Ugh, he’s fucking sexy,” I continued on. We stared at the stage for a moment in one of those silences where neither drunk girl could really formulate any relevant response. Then, I kind of tossed my weary arms around, “Well, doesn’t matter. I bet he, like, doesn’t even date.”

“No, but he def fucks,” Brittany emphasized. We leaned into each other, laughing loudly.

Sarah turned to us at the sound. She plopped down beside me and went to add to our conversation, but the familiar staff member who’d been supplying our drinks was interrupting again. Though, this time, he didn’t have a tray of alcohol.

“Excuse me, ladies,” his favorite phrase. We all looked up at him, curious. He didn’t have to speak so loud, considering the venue was clearing out, so it was easier to hear. Whitney Houston was playing again.

“The band is wondering if you’d like to come backstage for some refreshments?” He asked so casually that it took my brain a moment to process the information.

I managed to play it really cool, but internally, I was basically shitting my pants. Brittany, however, gaped at the worker. She slowly turned her head towards Sarah and I with a wild look in her eyes, seeming like she might scream at any given moment.

Sarah snorted, “What fucking fanfiction did we just get thrown into?!”

“I don’t know, but I fucking love it,” I gushed back, staring at the worker. “What the fuck.” He shrugged back at me.

Sarah shook her head with an amused grin, waving off the worker, “Listen, yall go, have fun. My friends offered to let us go out with them, so I’m gonna split off. I don’t think I could mentally handle meeting them right now. I think I’d, like, puke all over them.”

“But, then you could say that you’ve puked on Sleep Token!” Brittany smacked Sarah’s shoulder, reaching across my body.

“Go!” Sarah shoved back, squishing me further between the two of them. “Go, so you can say that you puked on Sleep Token.”

“Yeah, I fucking will,” I pushed up out of my seat, an eager energy in my bones.

Brittany and I followed the worker down the stairs, clutching each other’s arms. He ushered us through the remaining crowd gently, though we had to stop to take numerous photos- and make the occasional TikTok- with fans. They gushed about our dance moves, our podcast episode. It made everything feel even giddier. We eventually made it up to the stage, where we were guided behind these large black curtains disguising the dimly lit area of the sides.

The crew worked hard on getting everything packed up, put away. We skirted between all of them, trying not to get in the way of it all. I kept checking my reflection in my phone’s front camera to ensure I looked okay. Most of the sweat had soaked itself up and my perfume was long lasting. Hopefully that was enough to rizz up Vessel. Not that I was counting on that. It would be awesome, but I was actually excited to have a conversation with all of them. I would soon learn that was not what he wanted from me tonight.

We went down another set of stairs and stopped before a closed door. Behind it, we could hear music playing over a speaker, a few sets of voices cheering and chattering. The worker knocked, kindly, and the voices cut themselves off.

“Come in!” A thick British accent called out.

I took a deep, drunken breath as the worker turned the door knob. And, my stomach dropped when he pulled open the door.

Sleep Token sat, lounged out across their dressing room, on various couches. They wore those familiar masks, their stage costumes- save for a few layers- and clutched some drinks in their blackened hands. My eyes found Vessel last, who was leaning against the counter of the vanity, a drink sat beside his left hand. He had shed his cloak, so visible to us was his paint-smeared chest and back. I tried not to let my eyes wander too much- but they did.

III stood from the couch, excitedly dancing his way over to the door where we stood. The worker abandoned us. “‘Ello, darlings!” III called out.

He hugged Brittany first, bent down because of his insane height. As he did, I couldn’t rip my eyes from the slits of Vessel’s mask. I somehow knew that he was staring at me- probably because his distant gaze burned my skin. Then, III was pulling me into his chest, “It’s so lovely to meet you…”

“Brittany,” she gestured to herself, then to me, “Y/n. Dude, thanks so fucking much for having us! We had an absolute blast. Your performance is just- wow!”

IV and II approached us next, as III pulled us a bit further into the room. III busied himself with pouring us each a drink as we introduced ourselves to IV and II.

“We’re so glad you had a good time worshiping,” IV cracked, hugging Brittany, “makes it all the more worth it.”

I grinned at his words as he embraced me, too, still occasionally glancing at Vessel. II added on, “Sure you’re exhausted from all that dancing. Have a seat.”

III wrapped an arm around Brittany’s shoulder, passing a drink to her hand, as he brought her onto the couch beside him. IV and II moved to stt back where they had been, probably assuming I was following. I clutched nervously to the drink III had given me. I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to not act stupid in front of men I wanted to fuck. The nerves were crashing down me instead, making me stoic, overthinking my own breathin.

I looked back at Vessel, again, who had been quiet thus far. He held out a hand, an offer for me to come sit beside him. I hesitated, for just a moment, before taking it. His fingers were warm, even his rings, and I noticed that black paint smudged itself across my skin as I took my hand from his. I leaned up against the counter beside him as I admired the paint.

III, IV, and II struck up a lively conversation with Brittany, full of teases and easy topics. I watched until I felt that burning stare on the side of my face again. I looked up at Vessel, a small smile forming across my lips. He returned the expression.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/n,” his voice was just as deep as his singing tone. It sent a shiver down my spine.

I shifted on my feet, glanced around, before returning his gaze again. “You, too, Vessel,” I took a sip of the drink in my hand.

He chuckled down at me. My knees rocked. “So…you like Whitney Houston, yeah?.”

My face turned beat red at the realization that he had seen a lot more than I hoped. I pressed a hand over my face, groaning, “Oh, god. You saw that?”

Vessel brushed his shoulder against mine. More paint took it’s place there in my skin. “I saw everything.”

I crinkled my nose, “Ugh, that was just…I don’t claim to be a good dancer, just so you know.”

Vessel shrugged, “I beg to differ.”

Shaking my head at his words, I waved him off, “Don’t even…I just, like, throw myself around like a fucking rag doll.”

“No,” he drug out the word, deep voice reverberating in my chest, “no, you have some rhythm in those hips.” His head tilted down as he eyed my body.

There was a beat of silence that passed between us. I examined his mask. I think I knew then that I wouldn’t be leaving until this man fucked me senseless, but my foggy, drunken brain thought still that maybe I was just being delusional.

It wasn’t until he opened his mouth, again, that I was certain. He drug his tongue over his bottom lip, as though he was searching for the right words to say. My eyes followed the wet, pink organ with a blank stare.

Vessel thought for another moment before leaning his mouth down towards my ear. He pressed his hand against my hip, fingers curling around my bare skin exposed there. His breath was hot against the side of my neck, though I shivered again. “I want to see how those hips would move on me.”

I flushed, bright red again, the alcohol making the heat on my blotchy skin worse. Vessel pulled away, a smirk ever-present on those pink lips, black staining the outer edges. It took all of my self control not to lick it clean, right then and there. I wanted him- needed him. And, he knew it.

Vessel searched my eyes with that curl in his lips. I was unable to come up with a proper response. But, I think he found what he was looking for in my dilated pupils and rising chest. “Be a good girl for me? Yeah?”

Vessel offered up his hand again. I entwined my fingers in his, my own smile finally finding its place on my mouth. Vessel took my cup and chugged it, tossed it into the trash, and led us from the room.

I followed like a puppy-dog, hot on his heels. He guided me so carefully, looking back occasionally to ensure I was okay. Then, he threw open a door at the end of the hallway we traveled down. It was dark in the room, with only a small lamp in the corner to illuminate our hushed desperations. Vessel locked the door behind us after he ushered me inside. He spun me around and forced himself against my chest, pressing my back against the door. It knocked the wind right out of me. My chest rose and fell as I took rapid, deep breaths. Vessel held me by my hip, again, thumb brushing against my bare skin gently.

“Is this okay?” He whispered as he brought a hand to my face, cupping my cheek.

I barely nodded, entranced by the stare coming from behind his mask. I had enough focus to touch my hands to his chest, though, running my fingers up and down his toned stomach. The paint smeared beneath my knuckles, revealing more of his pale skin. I watched it mix with our sweat with hopeless admiration in my gaze.

Vessel looked down at my hands, too, a smirk still present on his face. But, then he forced my chin up, so my eyes were on his mask, and said, “Use your words, darling.”

“Y-yes,” I shuddered, voice breathless.

Vessel pressed me harder against the door as our lips met, tongues clashing against teeth, hungrily. We moved together so easily, entranced by the other’s taste. I gripped at his sides, pulling me into him, arching my back to press my chest against his. Vessel’s hold tightened, too, and he ground my hips against his.

I felt him get hard, quickly, the loose material of his pants allowing his erection to fully grind against my thigh. He was whiney, all gasping breaths, low moans, as I drug my fingers down his chest, dipped them through his waistband. I nearly got to feel him, but Vessel grabbed my hand harshly in his, slamming it up against the door, above my head. My eyes shot back open in surprise. I don’t remember closing them.

“S’all about you right now, darling,” he demanded, words against my lips.

Vessel shoved his head into the crevice of my neck, nipping and tonguing at my flesh. My eyes dropped shut again, head hitting the door in a way that would probably hurt tomorrow. I had a feeling all of me would hurt tomorrow. But, I didn’t care.

Vessel drug his fingers up my arms, leaving goosebumps in his path, trails of black paint like a roadmap amongst my freckles. He slid the straps of my dress down past my shoulders. Then, he kissed his way down to the arch of my breasts. He rolled the material between his teeth and sunk to the floor as he drugged it down my body. Vessel was on his knees below me.

Vessel looped an arm around either of my thighs, nearly pulling my entire weight onto his shoulders. I clutched onto the top of his head, feeling some of his hair slip out from the cap he wore beneath his mask. It was soft, though just a bit sweaty. He glanced up at my bare breasts, smirking devilishly now

He admired my face as he said, “I watched you worship me all night. It’s my turn to pray at your altar.” STOPPED HERE.

My head hit the door again as Vessel sunk his tongue into me. He had managed to tear my underwear down with his teeth and they were now laying across the room. I ground my hips into his face, back arching each time his nose would then rub against my sweet spot. I tried to be quiet at first, though small gasps and moans slipped from my bitten lips.

But, then, Vessel stopped, eliciting a whine from me. He chuckled, lips slick from me. He darted his tongue out, smirking as he cleaned his mouth. He tilted his head in disappointment, “You were so loud for me earlier, darling. What happened to that good girl? I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”

I nodded, dazed, brows furrowed, fingers digging at his hair. The cap had fallen off his head at this point, but the mask managed to stay on. I was grateful it did. The mystery alive energized both of our primal desires..

Vessel watched my face as he pressed his tongue back up into me, running the tip of it down my entire core. I moaned, loudly, back arched into the cold air, nipples hard from the temperature and arousal.

He chuckled into me, making my thighs shake around his head. Vessel pried me back open with his fingers bruising my skin. He continued on until I was close. I vocalized my point of no return, and he hurriedly spoke, “Don’t. Be a good girl and wait. For me, okay?”

I nodded wildly, clenching my stomach to deny myself of the orgasm. Vessel gently set my feet back on the ground. He guided me by the hips towards a counter. Easily, he picked me up and set me on it. It was freezing cold against my bare skin, but his warm hands, tongue, were on me soon enough. I took the opportunity to unlatch his belt, fingers moving hurriedly. Vessel moved to help me, tugging the pants down his thighs.

Vessel then pushed me back from him, taking control again. He pushed my legs open further with his bare knee. Then, he grabbed me by the hips and tugged me down till my back was flat against the counter. His hand splayed across my thigh as he pushed himself inside of me.

He was sloppy, quick in desperation as he fucked me. But, every thrust he pushed into me was strong, deep. Vessel wrapped my legs around his waist, securing me by the hip. His other hand drug itself up my chest until his fingers were wrapped around my throat. Black paint smeared most of my skin. There was even a ring around his mouth where the paint had transferred from his skin to my own. I don’t know how we would manage to keep this rendezvous a secret from everyone else with the state we were both in. But, right now, I couldn’t care.

Vessel leaned himself overtop of me, his forehead against my chest. Though, he was dominating me, he was so caught up in the pleasure that he was starting to quickly come undone. I touched his back, nails digging into his skin. He tossed his head back at the sensation, neck exposed to me. I eyed the veins protruding from his skin.

He smirked at me when he noticed I was staring at his neck. He growled, “Take a bite.”

I held one hand, tightly, to his shoulder, keeping him steady as he fucked me. But, I gripped the back of his head with the other. I was slow at first, nipping at his neck gently. Vessel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy with each bite I took. I was close, too. So, I opened my jaw further, taking a pinch of his skin between my upper and lower canines. I bit down, hard.

“Fuck!”

He quickly pulled out and came on my stomach. As he did, I felt myself come undone. Vessel pressed his forehead against mine as we rode out our high. We came down from the top and he gave me a sloppy kiss.

There was a bitter cold left on my skin as he stepped back. I hugged myself, finally taking in the black paint covering my skin. “Oh, god,” I laughed.

Vessel pulled his pants up. He looked at my body, grinning, “Fuck. That’s so hot. Darling, if we had more time…”

“I know,” I smiled up at him.

“Here, there’s a bathroom over here,” Vessel spoke as he finished buckling his belt. He offered me his hand.

I followed him into the side room. He found a washcloth on the side of the sink, clean and unused, and wet it with warm water. Vessel gently pried my hands from covering my body and busied himself with wiping down my skin. He focused on what would be visible: My arms, neck, hands, face. I watched him while he worked. It was fucking hot when he was dominating, disgustingly dirty. But, this, this caring demeanor? I’d fuck him again in a heartbeat.

When he was finished, he rounded up my dress, shoes, and underwear. He turned away, without a question, while I dressed. I was no longer nervous, so I wouldn’t have minded if he watched. But, he was respectful.

“Okay,” I breathed out, pulling my final dress strap back up and over my shoulder.

Vessel faced me. I was finally able to take in his face and had to cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. He frowned, slightly, confused by my laughter. “What? What is it?”

I touched his shoulders, forcing him to face the mirror. His head pulled back in shock at his appearance.

I kept laughing and Vessel peered down at me with a tilted head. “Keep laughing, darling.”

“I’m sorry,” I shrugged, “it’s fo fucking funny.”

“What’s funny?”

I yelped, trying to duck out of the way as he jolted towards me. He caught me by the waist, rattling me around in his hold. I giggled, loudly against his chest, trying to twist out of his hold. His mouth was near my ear as he teased me, “Not so funny now, huh?”

I rested my forehead to his shoulder in my fit of laughter. Vessel calmed his movements, just holding me against him now. “It just goes to show the mess you make out of me,” he murmured against my ear, lips pressed to the shell.

I looked up at him and pointed a warning finger, “Don’t do that.”

“I know,” he huffed as he tossed his head back in frustration. “We should be getting back.”

“Sadly,” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

He admired my face for a few moments, silent, until he smiled softly, “Can I get your number?”

“Maybe,” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, I kind of like to just fuck and dump, ya know?”

“I won’t let you do that, darling,” his voice dropped low again.

“Okay, you’ve gotta stop doing that or I’m never going home.”

Vessel cupped my cheek in his hand, nearly void of paint, “I’d be okay with that.”

“I’m gonna walk away now.”

Vessel didn’t let go, however, as I made a move to step towards the bathroom door. In fact, he held me tighter. He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Can’t go anywhere looking that, darling,” he twisted me around to face the mirror, long arms cradling my waist.

I reached for the washcloth and wiped off my face. I faced him again and cleaned up his mouth, just enough so that it wasn’t completely obvious he’d eaten me out. We spent another moment teasing each other, eliciting more giggles from my throat. But, we figured we should get back.

So, he took my hand again and led us back down the hallway. I flushed red as soon as the door was pulled open, considering the entire band and Brittany snapped their heads towards us.

“Way to leave your sister!” Brittany exclaimed, holding up a cup of what could only be whiskey. “Dude, you’re missing out on some insane stories right now. Come, sit.” She patted the couch next to her.

I glanced up at Vessel as I took my hand from his. II, IV, and III greeted me with kind eyes and small greetings. “Hey, sorry,” I said as I plopped onto the couch. “He was just showing me the, uh…”

We hadn’t come up with an excuse. So, my words fell off my tongue with no resolution. Vessel shoved his hands in his pockets, quickly stuttering out, “Backstage. Just the backstage area. She wanted to see how everything works.”

Brittany nodded, oblivious to the elephant in the room. “Dope. You’ll have to show me next.”

“We can do a group tour,” IV offered.

Everyone agreed, enthusiastically, and we all stood to pile out the door. III and I were the last ones seated. I met his dark eyes, smiling kindly at him. His gaze dropped to my thighs, brows raising beneath his mask suggestively.

I followed his eyes down. Where my dress had ridden up my thighs was a long line of smeared paint, not to mention reddened hickies that were starting to sprout up. I pressed my lips together and quickly tugged the material down over my legs.

III patted my knee as he stood, “You were the one going crazy during The Offering, love.”

I gaped after him as his words lingered in the air before me. Vessel stood just beside the door, awaiting my presence. As III passed by him, he took Vessel by the chin and tilted his head.

He tsked at the bruising bite mark on Vessel’s neck. I shoved my face into my hands, face beyond burned.

III whispered, “Take a bite.”

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Brittany and I were hanging out, looking through concert videos with nostalgia, that she found out. I was nervous to tell her. Besides, Vessel and I were starting to see each other, so I didn’t want to expose his private life too much. I trusted her, but I just overthought it all. Apparently, though, I hadn’t enough overthinking.

I had just made a post on Instagram, making the photo we took with the band the cover photo for a dump. It blew up immediately. Brittany and I were reading comments as they came in, dying of laughter at some of the shit people were saying.

“No, hand placement is so real!” Brittany exclaimed. She shoved her phone in my face, showing me the zoom-in of Vessel’s hand on my hip. I blushed and shoved it away. She kept scrolling.

“Wait,” her voice trailed off.

I glanced at her and watched as her brows furrowed. She tapped around, zoomed in a bunch, scrolled through comments. I looked back to my phone just as a new comment began blowing up with responses and likes.

User- so is no one gonna talk about vessel’s paint on y/n’s thigh and her very obvious sex hair?

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

#sleep token!vessel x reader #sleep token x you #sleep token x reader #sleep token #sleep token smut #brittany broski

326 notes · View notes